Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Volume 8, Number 49, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 5 July 1877 — Page 7

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THE COUNTRY.RAILWAY-STA-TION. In the midst of a noble fervor for aesthetic mprovement, which is not without witnesses in many departments, there j, is'one conspicuous monument which has very nearly escaped the unlifting contagion. Though frequented by human footstepsdaily, its Iack» every element and pretense of beauty. As it began fifty years ago, so it remains—a bald, desert looking spot, as destitute'ofattraction and adornment as if it were the gate way to a wilderness, inateaJ of being, as it is, a living nerve-centre in our com plex system of civilization.

We submit the proposition, with strong faith in our opinion, that it might be, and ought to be, made more cozy and cheerful. Certainly theie is no place where the average American citizen is more often compulsorily placed than at the railway-station and none where a little deference to his sense of the artistic and comfortable would be more welcome* II he is ever aimless or idle, or ready to be amused and

edified

if he wishes a pivot

to hang his thoughts upon, it is during that irksome confinement in which he is held before he can take the cars, or continue the journey for the completion of which he has just left them Instead of entertainment, however, or genial comfort even, he finds nothing but blank weariness. There is not a thing his eye can alight upon to divert him from his natural impatience of the necessary delay but, on the contrary, there a preconceived conspiracy in the situation and its surroundings to aggravate and deepen it.

With.the single exception that the passenger building i6 a weak parody and dilution of Gothic art—now drearily and offensively common—there is at the average station no hint whatever to be found of an authetic purpose. The grounds are bare and gravelly in all directions there is no relief of near shrubbery and trees grass is not only trampled out, but the bereaved spaces seem ready to aver that it has never been there and a few telegraph poles standing upright under the stretched wires, smooth and barbless, are the nearest approach to picturcsqueness that you can discover. It is a spot lor cold, forlorn inhospitality.

The building in which you mug rest if you can is bleak and dreary Wnough. There are, perhaps, two or three wooden 'settees a villainous stove which, when there is afire in it, is hotter than you can endure—though, sometimes, when you would like a fire, it has just gone out and no seat which invites you can be found* The walls are bare, except where a few advertisements break the rronotony, and, for quenching thirst, vou may likely enough find a painted waterpail containing water and a tin cup—the latter having been dipped up a day or two or a week previous to your arrival there.

When the station is in the heart of a

large

village or town, one can, at least, get away from it, or amuse himself for an hour outside its limits, when he is detained so long but, in country places, the hundreds ot railroad-stations rnudt either offer something congenial in themselves, or leave the passengers without resource. Are the railroad companies really afraid that, if they make these places tastetul and attractive, the passenger# will linger too long in them, and at last forget to buy their tickets and take the cars? If this is the true solution of their difference in the matter—or, let us say, their willingness to make the station look inhospitable and forebidding—they are certainly doing all thai human wit can devise to avoid the danger. For, surely, if Ulysses and his companions had been compelled to take the car6 at an American railroad station, neither sirens nor sorcerers would have detained them from their journey.

We do not need to dip far into our private experience to suitably emphasize this subject. Who that travels does not remember being stranded for hours on soms one occasion, if not more than one at a desolate country railway-station? It is a trial never to be forgotten. It will linger in the memory until that particular spot.becomes a legacy burned in and borne down to you as"if it had descended from anteccdant ages of affliction. There is even a thritty country village not a hundred miles from the present writer's pen, which is not despicable as a country village, but which, from its being a catchall for the passengers from several intersecting roads, and because it detains them for an hour or more of residence without the slightest comfort or cheer at its joint stations, is marked and monumental in the traveler's hatred. We know what Dr. Chapm will always think of another where he was provokingly compelled to stay a whole day artd eat crackers-and-chcese, and lose, bv the detention, an imperative and desirable appointment. Horace Greeley wrote one of the chapters in his "Recollections of a Busy Life" at a Massachusetts way-station, because he couldn't afford to waste a single hour and the writer of this has used pen and paper in editorial work under a similar detention, not so much for economy ©f time as to forget his surroundings But all travellers do not have so easy and accommodating a craft, and for the great multitude, in all professions, a cheerful resting-place at the station is a desideratum.

We remember once being left by the cars for a couple o'f hours in the open fields in June, and we thanked our good fortune that the locality was not one of the regular stations. On either hand were grassy meadow*, and tall, umbrageous elms and under a neighboriug bank wound along in serpentine beauty a crystal stream, which chattered its thusic amid the chorus of bobolinks and robins. It set us wondering why a station itself might not have a few hints of lawn and shrubbery—an adjacent park, sav a t»untain, and plenty of trees. The lawn on which we reclined suggested that a depot-settee even might be made 6ofr, and that some part of the prodigality which Nature proffers might not'be lost or worthless if it were bestowed on all 6topping-places which the railroad-trains regularly make.—[Jot 1 Benton in Appletons' Journal for July,

FASHION NOTES.

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Holbein work is os fashionable as ever Robin's Vgg blue is the lashionable shade for tissue veils.

Colored flower# are used in the composition of funeral decoration The Corisandc and the Sidonie-are the 'leading overskirts this summer.*

Red peonies, aa. natural, and large as lite, are among the fashionable ^artificial towers.

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SELECTED SHARPS.

Peaches are coming into market slowly. Their price added to the doctor's bill make them expensive.

Lucy Stone fays she has got through struggling f®r woman's suffrage. The money has gone out of that business.

Fig culture in Florida, which has been greatly neglected since the war. is now attracting the attention of capitalists.

Gratz Brown ought to write a letter to somebody. Reminiscences of the VicePresidency would be a goad subject for him.—[ Hawkeye.

The Emperor of Russia has sent the Emperor of Japan a magnificent vase four feet high and cut from a single block ot agate.

The Mayor of New London, Conn., ordered ihu police to kill all unmuzzled dogs. His own pet was the first one brought in.

In Japan they boil and serve raJifhes as we do turnips: They also think, that they make a nice pickle, using both tops and roots.

Many are the vicissitudes ot human life, but they seem trivial enough when compared with the ups and downs of a yoke of oxen on aside hill plow.

After eating green currants chew a piece of raw potato to restore the equanimity of your exasperated teeth. But first, don't cat the currants.

Some men who are clamoring for the "Dollar of our Fathers" would not be worth seventy-five cents if they had all the dollars their respective fathers ever earned.

An amateur phrenologist has discovered that the principal bump on George Washington's head was that of adhesiveness—when it is on a three cent stamp.

Time and again has it been demonstrated that the best fly-trap is a plate of butter, the suga.- bowl or a pitcher of cream, left standing on the table.

Little girl lias present of rabbits Vvhen she goes to bed she prays: O God, we thank Thee specially for the wabbits— 'all but the cage we had that before."

A man with a red ribbon got a big drink at a restaurant, and then, turning the red ribbon over, he showed on the other side of it the words "I'm busted." He was helped out.

They were laughing at Victor Hugo for having sent to a fraternal banquet which he was unable to attend in person ,'a bhake of the hand from the bottom ot his heart."

Mr Erastws Corning, of Albany, gave a birthday party last week, and treated his guests to strawberries grown on his farm, not one of which was less than five inches in circumference. Cost per berry not stated.

A Cleveland girl graduate read an essay on "The Seven Deadly Sins of Rhetoric." Colleges will keep on having commencements just the same, but as for the Paregoric Association better things are hoped lor.

The predictions of the Adventists that our world will burn up in July, don't worly us but we are threatened with a horror quite as terrible as the final conflagration. A man who plays on sixteen drum3 at once is on his travels. "Which is the most valuable—experience or instinct was the subject up for discussion at a country debating society recently. One member said experience teaches us to back up to a hot stove when we are ccld, but when our coattails catch fire instinct is boss.

Little boy—' Please, I want the doctor to come and see mother." Servant— '"'Doctor's out. Where did you come from Little bov—"What Don't you know me \Vhy, we deal with you. We had a baby from here last week."—[London Fun.

A nevada paper says you can always tell when a circus is coming to town. The hoodlums stop pelting Chinamen, and wander the streets with "Lemme split ver wood up!" "Don't yer want yer ashes out?" "Clean up yer back yard for four bits," etc. 0

JUDGE KEY AND HIS SALERY. Washington Correspondence Cincinnati Commercial.

When I accepted this position," said Judge Key, ''I fully intended to bring my family. Otherwise I could hardly have brought myself to accept. A man with a wife and nine children has to many household gods to tolerate in good humor a separation reaching through months. I sent for Mrs. Key to come and look over the ground th me and select a house, if it should seem best. We examined a number. Of course, in thisposi tion, and with so large a family, we should want a large house. Now what do you think was the lowest that we cound we could rent a furnished house for, of suit able location?"

I give it up. "Twentv-ftve hundred dollars or about one third of my salary we were offered a suittable house for that (the one Secre tarv Thomson now has), but after care fully figuring Jthe matter up one side and down the other,' we found that my salary was insufficient to allow me to bring the family here and 'keep house,' as I desire to do. After paying rent there would be $5,500 left. With a large family in a large city, and living as a cabinet minister with.a proper respect for his position should, this would not go far. If my family was smaller or my salary large: or the habits of society here a little lesi expensive, I could live within my salaily in Washington, but under all th« circum stances'it seems impossible.

A FAMILY TELEPHONE.

From the North Alabamiau..

Mr. John M», Powers, one of the pioneers of telegraphy in North Alabama, amuses his children with a telephone that can be made in a few minutes by any one, and by meaps of which conversation in. an ordinary tone may he carried on between parties a hundred yards or more apart. Knock both ends out of two tin cans— old oyster cans will do—paste letter paper tightly over one end of each can, through which insert the cod of common wrapping twine, although a silk line would be better tie a knot to prevent the string from slipping through extend the string as far youcan without allowiqg£t to touch the ground or any intervening object plaCt your mouth at the open end of the can, and a slight whisper .will' be heard at the other end of the line, where a similar arrangement of the string through the can^and paper mwtt be made.

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••xit.Sitf.f,^xif. THE TERRE

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A VISIT TO THE FARNE ISLANDS, COAST OF ENGLAND.

So many points of interest had to be examined inland and along the coast, that it was a good fortnight, and the utmost limit of our vacation was already drawing nigh, when we began to make plans for carrying out our great purpose —a visit to the Fame Islands. The $rst thing to be done was to secure a suitable fishing-smack, and, as Mr, Patterson informed ns, the proper person to apply to was his son, who lived at North Sunder, land, and owned a large numbdr of boats, in which he occasionally carried parties over to the islands. To Mr. Robert Patterson we accordingly went, and it was arranged that on the following morning he. should be the shore at Monkshouse with a boat.

The morning rose in a thick mist, which, however, rapidly cleared away and left heaven and earth free to rejoice, in the light and heat of the summer sun. After a heartv breakfast, during which Fanny, for at feast the fiftieth time, persistently refused poor Jack's solicitations in behalf ot gulls'-eggs, we issued forth, and embarked on the fisning-smack. Several large stones were put in by way of ballast, the single brown sail was hoisted, and we were soon fast approaching the nearest island. As there was nothing to be seen thereon but a lighthouse, we passed it by. and proceeded to the next. While sailing between these two island, we were surprised to observe a seal's head emerge close bchinil the boat. The animal snook the water from its eyes, and regarded us for a time witha look partly of curioiity. partly of nevolence then ducked, then emerged, once more, till at length we drove upon the little, sandy beach ot the second island, and the seal, after a farewell flap, disappeared, and was seen no more.

On our way we had been made acquainted. by Mr. Patterson, with a curious tact in natural history, viz., that each one of the island was appropriated and held exclusively by a distinct species ot bird. This we found to be a fact. The is. land we had just landed upon was sacred to the cormorants, black as night sitting upright in their n«6ts, in long, parallel rows. At the sight of their visitors they rose en masse into the air, positively darkening it with their number, and filling it with their pievcing crics. We drew hear to the nests, and found that they consisted of piles of sea-weed some three teet high in a hollow, on the '.op of which the birds had deposited their three long, white eggs.

The next island at which we touched was one consecrated to the use of various kinds of gulls—the great black-backcd gull, the lesser black-gull, and many other doubtless worthy families. Here Jack could no longer resist the opportunity he filled his pockets witli eggs, and rejoiced in the prospect of future leasts. But his joy was short-lived* We had all seen as much as we cared to see and were returning to the boat, vhen jack slipped on apiece of sea-weep, and abruptly sat down on a rock. At the same time was heard an ominous craking. as of egg-shells. He rapidly put his hand into his pocket, and when he withdrew it the doleful look upon his countenance was quite sufficient to justify the pcal« of laughter which immediately rang over the island and elicited a repreacht'ul cry from the hovering gulls.

We now made straight for the most important of the islands, that known as Longstone. On Longstone is,the light house which was Grace Darling's home. We landed, and were courteously re ceived by the keeper of the hous a brother of Grace. He showed ns all over the building, which was in excellent condition. So particular was he with regard to cleanliness, that he obliged us to take off our boots before he would conduct us up-stairs. He informed us that, when the government inspectors paid theis visit the last time, one of them had drawn a white handkerchief from his pocket, and passed it along the top of the doors, to be sure that no dust had been allowed to gather there.

Here we saw the little room that had been Grace's chamber: Everything is religiously preserved as it was when she lived there. Brave maiden who knew well how act, but knew not how to receive the praise that her act drew forth.

After a slight repast on Longstone, we re-embarked, and examined several islands. Here was one occupied by the terns or sea-swallows, the little eggs lying so thickly over the rocks that we had to

Dick

our steps to avoid treading

on them. Here was another which was the abode ot the eiJer-duck, a bird that lays five large olive-green eggs in a nest of down plucked from its own breast. Then there was the island of the puffins, a bird with a beak something like a large parrot's, that makes its ne?.t in the depths of an axcavation which it digs in the sand, and there lays its dirty-brown eggs. At last we came to the island where dwelt the man who had special ca of all the birds, for they are preserved by act of Parliament. This island was appropriated by the guillemots. It wds large and abounding in crevice*. All around the farther side the rocks rose sheer from' the wave*, and on the very face of such precipices, making use ot a little ledge perhaps not more than six inches wide, the guillemot lays its one egg—a large, beautiful, vari-col ored egg, and shaped like a beil-pear, so that, it perchance it receives a shock, it will roll on its smaller end and not fall from the led je for the bird makes no nest.

Silk purses are fasnionable again, and ladies are crocheting them for summer vt*{ 1 td 8 pastime.

Many rows of machine stitching are seen on some of the handsomest summer costumes.

Pansies are used in immense quantities far funeral wreaths and designs.

memento mon E,-

Willingham embroidery and applique work in bright colors on "ray and white coutille is a popular kind of fancy needlework at this moment .«*•)*«

Murphy, it is said, can make more conArts in one hour than Gough has made in ten yeais. But Gough can throw more eloquence and oratorical effect in his coat tails in one hour than Murphy can exhibit in the narrative of his outer garment in ten years—hence honors are earivS*c

Louise handler Moulton cays that to be properly.dressed in London a wopian must wear a tint bonnet hanging on a knot of hair, an immense crinoline, heedless boots/ a black iace shawl, and her fiont hair pasted down over her cheeks like a librae's, blinders *. a 4 4 -i

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LITTLE GENTLEFOLKS. "A gentleman," she began thoughtfully. "What does that mean, Ralph?" "I know. The teacher said it was just what it sounds, a man who is gentle and nice in his ways, polite to the girls and old women, and never says rude words, nor tries t» cheat in croquet or^ marWics. that all, auntie?" doesn't all lie in being gentle," laughed the old lady* "nor yet ii being a gentle man, as some folks think it does. lr i-. more than being kind and polite, or nice in manners or clothes, though Jhey all belong to it. It is, first of all. id he a man—manly.

At the root of the

of a gentleman lies the idea of being a strong, useful, protecting man and nothing else has the stuff iu it to make a gentleman. In the old time when the world was divided into two classes, gentles and common people, there were very strict lines for the former." "Oh, if I could only find them now!" cried Ralph. The rules to make a gentleman! Are they written anywhere?" "They were never written, that I know of but they were handed down from father to son, and never laws were obeyed as strictly as these. We know enough of them to be sure that the standard of a gentleman in those days did not in manthings differ from what it should be to-day. And there is nt reason why a little boy should not carry in h's heart as stainless a code of honor as a plumed and visored Knight ofot: John." "There are no knights now," said Ralph, a little sadly. "I'm not so sure of that. Things go by working, nowadays, more than by fighting but they cuil for the 6ame knightly qualities of courage and endurance that rode forth with spear and crest to the field of battle. What do you think was a knight's first duty To fight for the true cross. The next was to serve his king and country, My Ralph's work is the same to-day— always believing in God and his truth, and, because you believe in it and* cannot help it, warning for it and defending it. And, to the day of your death there will be something to do for your country. You must watch, that bad principles do not creep in, or bad men get control, and you mnst count no tax of time or money too great to keep things what they should be for you and those who come after you. '1 his will be your work before many years, even if you never have to go out with rifle and sabre to really flght, as your brothers had to. When bad men or careless men say, as they are saying now about many things, "This is not exactly what ought to be done—it is not doing fairly by what we ought to protect, but is is the easiest way to get along,' there must be one man to (ay, 'No, the right way is the easiest in the end, and the only way,' ifit is only my little Ralph, larger grown. No matter if you are only one for the right, Say your word as becomes a man. The rest may see it and be ashamed: but at least, you will have your heart and your conscience clean. "The knight's vow was to succor all who were oppressed, to right all wrongs which he came across, and to help all who stood in need. If a knight came upon any deed of cruelty or injustice, he could not say, 'It's no affair of mine—I won't interfere. I may get into trouble by it, and get hurt.' It was his particular business to interfere, and, when he saw a creature tortured, or found a captive in prison unlawfully, or knew of insult offered to a woman, a child's inheritance taken from it, a child stolen from its parents, as happened in those cruel days, he was disgraced if he did not go at once, with his good lance and his men, and set things right. What he was not strong enough to do he besought his brother knights to aid him in doing and to refuse this appeal would have cost a knight his honors and his sovereign's favor. "For a man to draw back from danger, when called to it, was a disgrace to tell a lie was a deep disgrace to take a bribe, or allow himself to be influenced by fear or favor was to be unworthy the spurs he were, and the society of other knights. 1 don't see why you could not be a little knight of St. John, Ralph.— Author of Ugly Qirl Papers in July Wide Awake.

A BEAR IN COURT.

Tim. Hope can't stand any lonesome ness. He's essentially a social being. When there are no Police Court law yers about for him to confound with knotty legal points, or kill off with revelations as to the nature of their fees, or when there is no simple at'ter-noon-pap-er's reporter to be victimized by his "sells," Tim. feels a want of companiqn^ sh'p that hangs iieavtly on his soul. "Tim., I've a pet bear I'll send you, you sinner," said one of Tim.' lriends, and he kept his word.

Now, Tim. has had his fun out 'of the cub, and thought he had it trained well enough to give it the run of stationhouse yard, but he didn't.

The Court was in session that day and was doing a brisk business in sending poor devils to jail or chain gang when Uiat cub poked his nose in the door and followed it up with his body. No one noticed him until the little fellow crawled under a woman's dress. Then you just bei he was noticed. The woman gave a piercing, hysterical scream, and fell back fainting with fright. "What is it shrieked the court, giving dignity the cold shoulder, and springing up.

The foolish small boy conspiciously hangs his boiled shirt on a bush and slides down the bank into the water, while the sapient urchin carries his iniimaXe.^a«ewt jdown -tiie bank With him and deposits it nnder a fl-it atone. Youtb is noQ«ftoearly tp begin learning wisdom.}

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"Fits 'said one. "Hysterics !"yel.ed another. "Lor!" see dere! Mr. Tim.'s bar!" called Black Mich, as the cub protruded its snout and waddled out from the skirts Then there was hurrying to and fro—chiefly fro—for legal talent^ went the chairs and benches and stuck in the door, and the great ur.t^eansed vied with each other in their anxiety to clear the corner, The court drew up its pedestals, ancl the cub had possession of the court. Tim.'s presence was warmly invited, and the cub was led to the rear with the realization of fractured dignity shown in the trowns upon the Couit's awful tront. —[Memphis Appeal.

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A novelty for umbrella and sunshade handle* to have a small spy-glass the endvofitafchandle. ...... ,„,i

The^EMN?e6t styles of parasols have pagoda Kg*, and measure from eighteen to twenty-four inches from the top to tht end of the

ribs.

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'•MY PRECIOUS LULU:—We are UI Rome, where the beautiful Roman aashea come from, and where we've had a very good time. I've had some very pretty Roman sashes, and the prettiest ona I spoiled by getting it wet. Thereare beautiful fountains here in Rome, but if you ever come here you had better not w^de ia them, for the shores are very slipper. We have a little boy in our party named Harry Ludlow. He is very amusing, but, as he is but five years old, notion ps a great care to me.

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"WRITES A

LETTER

Wego every day to see ruins, and the one we like best is the Coliseum, It is a splendid place for playing hide and seek. It was once a circus, where thry used to have race horses and man fignts, and keep a great many very savage lions and tigers, and other wilcl animals. They used to feed them with Christians. Your father Wilt tell you all about it. We had a game down there, Harry and I. We made a lot of men of figs and raisins and wire a raisin pinched up for the head, a fig for the body, and raisins strung on wires tor the legs and arms. We took them down tfl the Coliseum with us, and set them up near the old lion cagcs, and then Harry and I went into the cages to spring out on to them and eat them up. We should have had a great time, but some little dirty Italian boys, who were watching us, pounced on to the Christians first, and ran away with them, up among the arches, and stood there and made faces at us, with the legs and the arms of our Christians sticking out of their mouths. Harry cried, and 1 laughed at him, and told him he wan n* kind of a lion to cry like that. He said he wasn't crying—he was"only roaring. "Everyday, nearly, we.go to drive to Monte Pincio, which is a park on a high hill, where a band plays every fine day. Mew days ago we were there, and a beautiful carriage camt driving up and stopped right beside ours. The coachman and the footman both had on long red coats, that reached most to their fet t, »nd had ever so much gold lace on their hats. There was a very nicc lady in the carriage, and a lovely little boy about four years old. I held up my doll for him to look at, and he wanted to take it. I asked Aunt Elinor to let me get out and walk a little, and ran up to the carriage and handed it to him. He was as pleased as Punch, and die lady looked pleased, too, and thanked me in Italian, and then spoke to me in French, and asked me it I wan an English girl. I told her I wa^ an American, and then I wanted iny doll aijain. The little boy didn't want to give up, but his mother made him, and then I started to go back to our carriage. And what do you think, Lulu? The beautiful lady said something to the red footman, and he took me up and carried mq back to Aunt Elinor, and all the people stared at us as if we had been princes—at the very least. "Afterwards we drove off and I bowed to the little boy, and he pulled a catneHa out of his mother's bouquet, and threw it into our carriage, and threw a kiss alter it with hif pretty l.ttle chubby hand, and his mamma bowed, and the people stared the harder, and when we were well out of hearing Aunt Elinor asked our coachman who it was. He said, looking very prou 4:

It was our Princess Margherita and the little Prince Royal.' "We met them again the next day, and I didn't dare hardly to look up but I did—and the little 6weet dumpling of a

took of his little hat and bjwed

beautifully, and his mother bowed, and it was lovely. 1 send you a photograph of the little Prince and his mother. Isn't he cunning "And, Lulu, we've seen such a funeral! The Princess Bonbonia died the other day, and, as she was a very rich princess and a very good princess, ancl letc rer so much money to pay tor her funeral with, they had a splendid one. It was in the night, and the procession was more than two miles long. There were carriages by the hundred, and there were priests and monks, which are qpn that wear dresses like women, and go barefooted, and shave their heads, and iry to keep good by shutting themselves up away from all the wickedness they can There were thousands of little children fiom the charity schools, and there were

lots

of regular funeral men, who wear long gowns with hoods that cover their whole heads, all but a place for the eyes Everybody carried alighted candle, and the grease was dripping everywhere: It was very much like a torch-light procession. We got a good many iJeas from seeing it, and Harry and 1 had a funeral a few days alter, which I'll tell you about. "When we we were waiting for a train at Calais, I found a cocoon in the hotel garden, and we brought it with us to Rome and we bought a plant, and put it under the leaves .in the window, and one morning it was broken open and tnere was a lovely yellow and biack butterfly fluttering over it. We called him Gold-wing, and kept him ever so many days and every night I would put him^ to bed on a rose-bud, and he wouldn move till the next day, "One morning I went to look t^r him, and he was lying dead on a breaktas'--piate, hi. bra'uzitul wings folded up, and his head dra'rn down on his velvet breaftt, and his powdered legs all kind of tangled up. I burst out crying, and bhould have cried a good while, only Harry came in and jumped right^up and down with joy. and eaio: •"Now. Marian. we*M got something dead! Vve can nave a funera.! "I was glad to have the funeral, but I was so sorry forGoldy. don't think Lulu, that boys are as ieeling as girls. But the tuneral was Jvery couooliug, so we took our beautiiuldead Gold-wmgto get him ready. Harry brought a pillbox to ut him in, but I wouldn't have it. 1 said, -No, Harry, my btautiiul Gold-wing shall never be- buried in a pill-box. And 1 tjok a little gilt candy box that I had, and we put our precious pet in that, and laid a rose-leaf under him, and covered him with a pansy, and ^ula prim-rose under his pretty head. He rooked so sweet that 1 couldn't help crying again. Then wa put a sheet, over each ot our heads, and took a chainbcr candle, aud marched very solemnly into the hotel garden, and laid Goldy under an oleander bush, in a hole which was dug with a tea-spoon. I criedj of course, and ji}st after w*'d got Goldy inHarry broke out as loud as he could cry. Said, "Never mind, Harry, we've buried goodly in goodstjrle, and we can tdoasiy .more.. Afttr all, he was only a butter-

1 Jjn't car^ a.iythiu^ abjut j'OJr old

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'Hitterfly," said Harry Tve burned my fingers wijh the candlc!' "Boys are so heartless, Lulu. I felt like slapping him. Bnt Harry is young and can't be expected to behave. I can forgive him for not caring for the butterfly, but he went and dug up the candybox afterwards, and won't tell me what he did with Goldy: that I can't forgive him fbr.—[Win. M. F. Round, in July WtnK AWAKE.

It is at a party. The room is close, and all the females are energetically waving their fans The men wipe their brows with their handkerchiefs, and lean out of the windows for the purpose of snuffing a breath of air. Yet, notwithstanding all thist a young ladv goes to the piano and begins to sing: "Out in this Cold World!' Tableau, during which .the young lady at the piano faints from the heat.—Ex.

Centa ur

LINIMENTS,

1

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White the Human Family.

Yellow, for Hori&T find Animal

These liniments are simply the wonde of the world, Their effects are little less than marvelous, yet here arc some things which they will not do. They will not cure cancer or mend broken bones, but they will always allay pain. They have straightened fingers, cured chronic rheur matism of many years standing, and tak en the pain from terrible bums and scalds which has never been done by any othe, article.

The White Lniment is for the human family. It will drive Rheumatism, Sciatica and Neuralgia from the system cure Lumbago, Chillblains, Pal sy, Itch, and most Cutaneous Eruptions it extracts irost from frozen hands and feet, and the poison of bites and stingrs of venomous reptiles it subdue swellings, and alleviates pain of ever kind.

For sprains or bruises it is the mos potent remedy ever discovered. Tha Centaur Liniment is used with great eflfi cacy for Sore Throat. Toothache Caked Breasts, Earache, and W^o Back. The following is bnt a sample ea numerous testimonials: "INDIANA HOME, JEFK. Co., IND.,

May 28, 1873.

"I think-it my duty to inform you tha I have buffered much with swollen feet'and chords. I have not been tree from ihese swellings in el {flit years. Now I am perfectly well thanks to the Centaur Liniment. The Liniment ought to be applied wamtf'

BENJAMIN BROWN.

The proof is in the trial. It is reliable, it is handy, it is chcap, and every family should have it.

To the sick and bed-ridden, the halt and lame, to the wounded and sore, we say, "Come aud be healed."

To the poor and distressed who have spent their money for worthless medicines, a bottle of Centaur Liniment will be given without charge. The Yellow Centaur Liniment ft adapted to the tough muscles, cords ads eftsh 01 horses and animals. It has periormed more wonderlul cures ot' Spavin, Strain, Wind- galls, Scratches,. Sweeney, and general Lameness, than all ther remedies in existence. Read what great Expressmen say t: "NEW YORK, JANUARY, 1874. "Every owner of horses should give the CKNTAUR LINIMENT a trial, consider it the best article ever use our stables. '•H. MARSH, Supt. Adams Ex. bles, N. "E. PULTZ, Supt. U. S. Ex. at N. Y. "ALBERTS. OLIN, a.. Stables, N. Y."

Sta-

Ex.

MONTGOMERY, ALA., Aug. 17, 1874. "GENTLEMEN.—I have used over one gross of Centaur Liniment, yellow wrapper, on the mules of my plantation besides dozens of the family Liniment fo mv negroes. I want to purchase it at th wholesale price, and will thank yous ship me by Savannah steamer, one grot of each kind, Messrs A. T. Stewart& Co., will pay your bill on presentationr "Respectfully, JAMES DARROW

The best patrons of this Linime no Farriers and Veterinary Surgeons. heals Galls, Wounds and Poll-evil, removes Swellings, and is worth millions of dollars to Farmers. Livery-men Stock growers, Sheep-raisers, and those having horses or cattle.

What a Farrier cannot do for $20 he Centaur Liniment will do at a trifling cost.

These Liniments are warranted by the proprietors, and a bottle tfrill be given to any Farrier or Physician who desires to test them. Sold everywhere.

Laboratory of J. B. Rose & Co., 46 DEY ST., NEW YORK.

Castoria.

tis a pleasant and perfect substitute, in tu cases, for Castor Oil. Castoria is I ie result of an old Physician's effort to.

Ire

roduce, for his own practice, an eflfectcathartic, pleasant to the taste and I je from griping. )r. Samuel Pitcher, ofliyannis, Mass.,

Kceeded in combining, without the use of nlchohol, a purgative agent as pleas ant to talus as honey, and which possesses ill the desirable properties of Castor Oil.

It is adapted to all ages, but is especially ecommetided to mothers as a reliable emedy for all disorders of the stomach nd bowels of children. It is certain, greeablc, absolutely harmless, and cheap, a should be used for wind colic, sour aomach, worms, costiveness, croup &c... lien children can hare sleep and mothers may rest.

J. B. Rose Co., of 46 Diy Street New York, are the sole preparers of Cas oria, after Dr. Pitcher's recipe.-'

Eureka BarOer Shop

S *&*iL

-fry

(ioodbarbers an an attenttre loot black

and

briish bov. LeSi.hes kept on. -.: band and eitntr applied or sold to the mcdi- ,. cat profession. .•

Ernst Seeger Proprietor.

loutlicaht Corner vl Fifth an-! If -a re« 5^•lown stairs.

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