The Syracuse Enterprise, Volume 1, Number 5, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 4 February 1875 — Page 1

The Syracuse Enterprise.

' J..P. PRICKETT,. Editor and Proprietor.

VOLUME I.

JUST .48 IT VSBD TO BE Fct-t many> face thp blackboard dxnre. Os ape tacied eyes and monstrous nose. With mouth stretched grinning from ear to ear And lanky neck and ribs so queer; While lindenicata, In boy Uh scr»*l. The master** nickname* on the «*U, J'ust as it used.to lx. Each boy is droning st hl, desk, Scratched up with face and form grotesque, •IW’ * MR' ft>sUrit}» reward to reap, ? rA-..Wjaitta«uitteV. Among the mischief-loving girls One hus ri wrdlfi of RoMen t-nrlw, > And sunny dimples,- and her eye Is blue an an Ilakaa sky, » <Jml as Am used lobe / g dl oufrofiesri! Intaht* ? 8o long the master’s eye is bent; When he looks up, then t hey leek down. And at their tasks profflundly OrcTWh; When he looks down, with grimace sly , They twist their faces quite awry, Just as wr used to do! The master, though Severe, Was kind, Affected sternness was combined With uuaffeeiadlore of fan; And when he Joked or made a pun -(And cunningly they saw a joke W ■■ VhU Lre before be spike-. Right loud they roared with urehin eraft, And saw or not the point, they laughed, 'Just JS nr ased tp do! ’Twas sad to see what used to be. And findjsll things unchanged—but me; ’Twas sadder still to think,that atoy In after years sHttrgrief #onffi say• •• Oh. that the days were here again ; When all was pleasure, nothing pain, # V< ’; . (| ; |u_„ *H' I THE CLOUGHS ANO THE HEATHER* CLOU6HS. What passion la it which keep* than quarreling to all eternity, which clings to him after every other human emotion jhaatkaoru d him-yea, which crops hi* soul lu il> steel clutches eve* as the man U growing odd ip death* A'nritc 1» !itd kept John C lhdgh and Babylonia He athen lough quarreling for forty yean. They were deadly enemies. He waa a widower, •eveaty-fire yean old; she «aa a widow, and seventy. Promi-ing young couple to build a romance un, aren’t they ? ;■ Both laid claim to the fairest and rar-<-t bit of pro|»criy in the village of Hejtbn ton This property w« known , in all HeaU»trU>n, all county, indeed through weft n i;fi the wlu|»!< ? »te, as the ” Bone." That was because it was the hoae o. contention which these two old misers had been picking at for forty years. Toe -Bone c old house, surrounded by a magnificent, paik, Engl sh style, with grand trees, jgii a lovely little lake in the center, wherein liny darting fi»h turned their glancing, red g »>ld >ides up to the light. Here, on the ivy-covered bank* of this lakelet. 1 begin my story Here, whether by a remarkable accident or by real fell intent ot the adversary hitdseU, at the self same hour and moment, the two people who bad been fighting each other for furty‘years met. “There,” said Babylonia Heatherdough to the stout serving-maid on whose turn she loaned—“there’s that old wretch! I wonder if he h going to live forever?", “ Who’s that, Mariana*" said John < tough to his grand-daughter *' It Un i —jt*. it I*; it’* myoid friend, that sweetvoiced female of the name of Babylonia They said last week th a} she was on her death-tied Death bed! ! Humph! She’ll never die They won't hive her in heaven *' and t’other place ain't big enough for her." •''■■■ | . ... . At this they came up opposjte. It was * a painful right, these two, in whom hale had outlived strength, glar ng at each otter like a couple of toothless ligers Tie spile and venom Os nearly half a century hissed in their trembling voices as they fought each < Other with hard words, almost the only weapons left them in t»eir helpless, loveless old age Clough spoke first “I'd have you understand, mistress, thatray park Un’l a public highway.” ’• Fear park!” screeched Babylonia. “ I auppoue my silver spoons belong to you, too, don't they? John Clough, I’m seventy year* old thia day, and you’re the nrst man I ever saw who waa mean enough to try to drive a childless widow oiit of the home her father g»vc Lcr wi h his dj ing breath.” John Clough winced a little, but he gathered courage in a moment. “ 1 wouldn’t try io pul you out of the bouae, mi<Uews if yon didn’t hare » boiler one <4 go to. What poasesaea you to want to hang to that old barn I don’t know. B leak* all over. The neighbors tell me that whenever ft rains Ton have to keep pans a aeirin’oll over the floor to catch the water that leaks in. You'll catch yoqr death then yet. “Doot yon flatter yourself, John; Clough. I’ll live to hear the bell toll for your funeral and long enough after it to ■ come into my righto. ITI build a mosu ■HP* W yo,tf # rar * promise yoa I’ve fife- enough in me to last - twenty yean yet. I’d have you know.” “ft isn’t life. it’s the Old NMt in the *om>a, that's, what it is." muttered Clough to himself. “ Conte, grandpa. Jet s no home,*-said f hts gland-daughter. property honeatly. The Marshalls hainA an howeat bone in their bodies and in my opinltra they hadn’t fur to go to learn left.” ■ The old woman iooketf al Mm with the sneer nf a vidows witch. ” You’d belter be making your peace with your God and rour avighbors,'’ said abe. •’ You haven’t so much time left yoe in this world, dear knows, that you can afford io sf«nd it lawing a widow out of her hotet Better be making year pence with your God and your neighbors, I •ay. IVM take all the time yon’ve got left to do that, particularly if you taIt was lik. touohiag a «pot with a ted'lMM iron to tba obd man. He clutched i.. ■

> “Mind your business, Marinaa,” answered the aid man. He turned to his triumphant enemy: “Olfi woman," said r he, “if you ever set foot in these here ’ grounds again, by St. Pat, m drive you out with.a shot-gun!” With that be hustled off at the top bf his hobbling old speed, not quick enough, though, to escape her woman’s last word.' “ You old viperahe shrieked after him “I’M outlive you, and tome into trifbvffi after you ar# In youT grave. I’ll outlive you, mark my words. Andif , the law had its Just dues tMs day vou’d be up yonder with a striped suit on snd a ball to ywur leg.” « She hurried od In |ha opposite fflrecri<m St a ptodigiyns rate just toolto* her enemy how much more active she was than he. His rage cooled sufficiently for him to be sarcastic as she -dilapprint d. He waved bis hand after her in the manner of high tragedyjmd remarked serenely; •’ Sweet-voiced female of the name of Babylonia, farewell!" A little while after Babylonia fell ill. They told her at length it was a mortal stekneas. She had not sat up for days before that. But as the stout serving,, maid announced the direful tidings the old woman sprang bolt upright. She; clinched her hands. “I will not die,” she said—“l wjjl not die. I mean to outlive John Clough.’’ But she pew ioret for all that. At length they brought her word that her enemy too was ill. ’• AhaJ!’’ said the terrible old wpman. ’■ I'll autllye bio y<|. Bwil! nkt ’ NerertJreleM she grep yet peaker until she'was no more thmj half cohsrtotis of mortal things. While she was in this Gale oqju day began to toll in tokdw that sdbae poor soul waa passing out alone over the cold waters of etemity. The very first stroke of ,the bell aroused her wandering, already halfeacaped, senses. She even counted the stroke*—one; two. three, and so on. "ftiirty, sitty-frre, skventyofte, two, three, four, Um —setanty-jiw/" screamed the fierce old woman. Shc raited her head > and shoulders desperately. “Seventyfive! Heaven abowew!il'a John Clough ' they’re tolling for. Ha. hail told him to his face I'd outlive him. They said I was going to die. did th A * I will not diej 1 wiß notdfr!” - . •••• • a • < The people wjio had been listening with momentarily chilled solemn hearts to the bell which tolled for the departing soul of old John Clough had returned to their buying and selling, their gossiping and dressing, their marrying and giving in marriage, and their poor little tricks W keep the breallf of life within their (txxliM I <ay they had returned to all this just the same, for it had been half an hour—nay, had it not struck threequarters?—since the bell ceased tolling fol old John Clough. What would you hav’ej Must one think about dead people forever? Must—Hark! What's that? Tlri great deep bell had begun to toll agajrl People ceased their poor little tricks and listened again with solemn hearts. ' One, two, three, chanted the great bell—thirty ,’forty, sitty. ’• Ila an okl person—real old;” aaid the younger ones. — Sixty-one, sixty four, sixty five, sen e>U*, called the deep-mouthed l>ell. Miss Patience Hopkins struck her hands together. “ Heaven help us, it’s Widow HeadrereJough!” ahe exclaimed. “Them two old creeturs has gone into t’other world 1 side an’ side; God be merciful to us all, miserable sinners! I wonder if they'll ever squabble anywhere they're gone? It’s wicked to question God's mercy, but It doe* sppear as if heaven waa hardly big enough to bold them two both al once." And so it was. These two, who had hated each other and hurt each Other and abused each other forty years, had passed over together, quie'iy enough at last, to the shoe- whence the serene “ pilgrim of •teroity,'' looking backward, sees that all ike strifes, worrying* and torment* of this world are inexpressibly mean, small and pi iful. Ay! quiely, quietly enough, God knows! Th<-y died within the same hour; they were buried in the same grove yard; and bar funeral procession went In through the gate as his came out. “ 1 bequeath all my earthly possessions to my granddaughter, Mariana Clough.'' said the old man's will. “I also bequeath to her. as a sacred legacy, my Heatberton Park lawsuit. I nquest her to fight for that property till she die* or gain* poasesakn of it If she gives it up while she u alive, 1 hope she. may die in the almshouse." “ Land o’ liberty - said Miss Patienee. “To think bow two poor worms o’ the dost can hate each bther av«m with erne foot in the grave!* wonder what’ll become of the • Bone’ now?" said the gossips. Mariana bought .tome black dreiM* and staid at home in the old Clough house. She waa a handsome, clearheaded, highspirited young woman of three and twenty. Meantime the oppoaing lawyer advertised for the legal heir* of the Ute Babylonia Hcalherckmgh. I have Ibid y<J6 of the hate of two old people It 1* left me now to appak of the hereof lim young people. • • *, • » » • It was late in November- The two old etMMrWßtbm *WWBJh«»fcriy in their graves, for three months. The lawyer had at!length found an heir to the estate* of Babylonia Heatherclough. Th* said heir waa a nephew of the decea*ed lafiyc Hl» mother bad been her youngeat sister. His father had been a . ewsjtMri tte deedasMl tedy'w taasband, auXt hi* name was Heatherclopgb too. He waa coming in person to take pos J sesrien, had been formally anpouced to Mariana. Mariana took it quietly enough. In P Ibt rinrrita the pale November tenwon*-«he willed <n»t to the tiny lake in the middle of the “ Bone.” She bad net beesThgre before since the time her f groadfathi r and D*me Heatbercfough had quarreled s > furKsll- H wa* chilly, and Mariana forgot the was in nounteg ao far a* to wrap a Scarlet shawl abevt her firm, plump shoulders. She wa* always forgetting the most itnpor- ’ tent patter* so Hfe—-like the impropriety

-« of putting on a seariet shawl ©ver moums ing. for instance. 1 She was melancholy, on the whole. * She really did not know whether she, t meant to fight for her rights or not*. She carried in her hand a newspaper, in f which she had just been reading a *oul- » discouraging story of a strike and sickt ening fight among the iron-workers in Wales That made her bine, too. It did r not sound much like the universal prog. > rvss of all humanity, really. This cynical young lady sage was so wrapped in her f contemplation of the depravity of the 1 human species that she did not at all I notice the tsll specimen bt the masculine human species which was approaching * her with the long, free, independent r stride of one that owned at least half the * world. The masculine s pert men saw her, though, and marked even the brilliant scarlet shawl. > “ Humph!” said he, in his odd, blunt 1 "ways “ lied light; danger ahead.” He went pearer. “M) enemy reads newspapers, tbeff! BettMble girl!" said he.’agate. Still the cynical young lady sage did not sec him, but went mooning on with her doleful wisdom so far as to remark, aloud: “ Pity that mortal man can't sec Wtiride pUhis atUDxach!” ■ Right you are. Miss’,” answered a deep, hearty voice at her very ear. She looked up, instantly and saw—what? A tall, solid, strong man, with * cheek as re<M>rown as an autumn, leaf, a bold bhek eye which looked at her clear and-straight, just\s the man would have looked at an equal and one of his own fearless, merry comrades. He didn't un dersUnd carpet-knight politeness, you see. He touched his cap, though, as she looked up. “My Dame is Wolf Hefitherclough, Miss," he said. Then the two pairs of eyes, one black, the other blue, looked in each other and measured each other, and one glance just as firm, fearless and decided as the other. ;: , “ I’m a civil engineer, and a civil sort of a fellow generally, I hope. I’ve been surveying Northern railroads and I’ve hardly seen a lady for ten years. Consequently.’’ continued the hearty, solid, strong young man, “ I don’t know very Well how to behave to a lady. The lawyer tells that vou and I are deadly enemies, though we never heard of each other before in our lives. We’ve each had a grudge bequeathed us by will and we axe to set to and scalp eacfy other like a ('row and a Blackfeet. It .see ms odd to thrash a fellow when he never did you any harm,” said the solid young man, musingly. * “Yes, Mr. Heatherclpugh.” “ I don’t know who’s in the right of it, I’m sure." said Wolf. “But when a fellow has spent ten years surveyirg milloads and*farms sp big that it was a two days' journey to cross ’em, twenty acres look like a very contemptible little patch. As to that little frying-pan full of water with the minnows in it’’—jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the fishpond— “ I know lakes put yonder so big and beautiful that whenever you see them your heart aches with the wonder and admiration which you can’t put into words." He looked thoughtfully at the ground a moment and then added, as if it was an afterthought: “And, Miss, when a man sleeps half the time under the open stars, and has not a living soul who cares much for him, except the good God who cares for us all, is it likely that he will miss an old house that he never lived in, even though it was the home of his ancestors? Miss Clough, 1 don’t care two cents for Heatherton Park, with the whole town of Heatherton thrown in. I surrender to you all the rights of’ the Heathercloughs, if they ever had any, in this property, and you are to take it, and welcome you are to it. That's what 1 came here to Say.” She looked up at the broad-shouldered, brave young man with a bright glow in her fair cheeks. “fir. Heathexlough," said she, “you are very generous and noble. But I don't care two cenu for it, either." “ Then we'll donate it to the town for • lunatic asylum," said the broadshouldered, brave young man. They walked peaceably away together, in the pale November light, Clough and Heathcrclough ride by ride. So calm, strung atyi self-controlled these two •tri, so different from the noisy, squabbling, cackling Clough and Heatherclough who had died bequeathing their mutual i.ate to these their heir*. Genuine strength is always calm; “inferior force is always violent.” Pale November whitened into winter, winter chaaaed into green spring, and spring, again, deepened into the gold of summer; but still the Clough and Heathercloogh dispute had not been settled. Since the world began there never was a dispute which required so much consultation between the chief parties m this dispute. Dame Heathervlough would”hare surely jumped out of her year-old grave sad clawed the red-brown cheek and bold black eye of Xolf Heatherck>ugh, like a cat o’ mountain, if she could have beard the mysterious hints which were rife in the village about a ne wigayto paydd debt*. * > As to Mariana and Wolf Heatherclough —of why notf r 1 ■■ . Gooe more they met bCafete the lovely little lake in the midst of the “ Bone"— the little lake where the trailing vines drooped to the water’s edge and the darting tiny fiah turned up their glancing, red-gold rides to the light. Bhe had gone there first and he followed, seeking her, his “ enemy,” he always said. “Miss Mariana,” he began, without a moment’s ceremony, “we have been engaged—. “No, we haven’t,” said Mariana, < He blushed like a Mg cabbage-rose. “Imean weW Mew qaarreltag with all our might for nearly a year wow and we’re no setter to agreement than we ! were at first. There is one way of settling our dispute which I’ve often thought of lately, bat which I never mentioned to yop. I've been afraid you wouldn't like iL" ... “May I inquire what that is?” asked Mariana, very composedly. * He looked hard at the ground, and when be spoke st length it was keritat tegly and with much embarrassment. He wm very modest, this brave foltow.

SYRACUSE, INDIANA, THURSDAY’, FEBRUARY 4, 1875.

“ Mils Mariana, I’m but a rough fellow, because I never had time to learn the fine ways which ladies like, though I . think I might learn them even yet—- . from a teacher of my own choosing. t That’s neither here nor there, though. . Once, standing right here by this little . kettleful of water, I begged.you toact ccpt this patch of land with the old I house up yonder, i must s»ve bungled wretchedly in my offer of it, for you reI fused it, and you have refused it Meadi- • ly ever since. Miss Mariana, I wish to offer it to you again, and ttris time 1 beg I you very earnestly to accept it, and—te» a haff civOized fellow who -would carry you in his heart to the world’s end so tenderly that life should scarcely have . a rough place for yen.” j He seemed choking with the effort to speak, he was so embarrassed. Mariana was silent. How could she . look into the eyes of this “ rough fel> low,” this brave, pure, child-heatted i man, and tell him that nO himself was more of a knight and hero to her than any Other living man' " I meant to go back yonder." said Wolf Heatherclottgh. “But I have no heart to go back to my wild mountains again, because fn v heart wilMp Web- re where you are. Desir Mating*, let me stay where njy heart's, and call you by the«name which my heart has called you a million times." Oactmore Clough and" HeathsrdaCgh walked peaceably home from die Huie lake side by side, and this time they walked arm in arm, and it gras to be side by side and arm in arm to the world’s end. % s . - , The very last words fierce old Dame Heatherclough wrote with her own hand were these: “ May the hot^sebe leveled to the ground, and Hesitherton Park sown with salt, before this property shall come into the hands of a Clough!” But for all that, a Clough and Hcatherclough, wife and husband, hve iogether in that very same house, and they are as happy as two angels—which is “saying considerable. The two ancient enemies who are sleeping so quietly now would have had their hate outlive the grave; they would have handed it down to unborn generations if they could, and, behold! this very bate brought the two younj; people together, and changed into love. Hate cannot last; the devices of spite and avarice pass away as asummer cloud; and it is all one in the grave. What is there of earth that can last? Listen! Sometimes Wolf Heatherclough clasps his wife’s hand and looks into her face with his bold black eyes, now moist and gentle and tender, and says to her: “ Nothing is enduring in this world but love.’’—Harper’s Bator. ITEMS OF INTEREST. A Fairfifld (Me.) youth announces that he will give a chromo to the young lady who will take him “for better or for worse.’’ No special rates for clubs, however. A Philadelphia man says that when his wife gets up in the morning with a jerk and, neglecting to do up her hair goes silently about her work she is materializing her domestic row, which before night will shake the house to its founds tiens. Prof. Morse says that there are probably not over 100 moose in Maine, where not long ago they were annually killed by the thousand. He thinks the species will become suddenly extinct, the condi lions growing more and more unfavorable for its continuance. Yo< may go on inventing washing-ma-chines for the next fifty years, but to the average eye you can’t patent anything equal to the sight of a lady’s diamond rings flashing in and out of the sparkling suds as she humps a wet towel up and down the wash-board.— Detroit Free Preet. All accounts agree in describing the weather on the North Atlantic this season as almost unexampled m severity the prevailing winds being from ths northwest, which reach to the height o the hardest gale and blow.with tremeu dons fury, day after day, with scarcely any cessation. ’ Jones and his beautiful bride are on their way East, and the Nevada editors are all wishing that “No cloud may ever lower upon the path of the happy couple.” We take pleasure in adding that any cloud associated with Joee.wdl be very UM ly to have a silver lining. —Brooklyn Argue. Pkuaaiu.v the largest elm ever cut in the Bute was recently cut on his farm hy Mr. Harrison Farrar, of Paris. Me., and hauled to the Faris Hill Manufacturing Company. It scaled 2,850 feet, and 200 rings were counted from the outside to within three inches of the center where they became too indistinct to be counted. It was probably 300 years old. If a man finds himaelf “stuck”on a one, a five, or even a ten dollar bill he stoically resolves to ft grin-and bear it,” as it wool “ break" him. anyhow, but a counterfeit SSOO greenback is a disagreeable thing to find in one’s small change. 1 very well executed counterfeit of that denomination has lately been discovered in circulation in Maine. A v*by hospitable lady, who.does nOt live over fitter miles from Utica, gave a party for her friends, among the young misses find masters, the other evening. Round dance* were proposed, when the lady said: “I cannot allow you to have any round danets. If any of tbe boys wish to hug the girls, let them ait down upon the teles and go right at it in earnest, but—no round dances, mind youT Wasn’t that sensible? J senx Jckr’s notion of a sleigh-ride isn’t bad :** Young ladles snugly wrapped up in white, buffalo robes, their bright faces peeping out from abundant wrappings, have been taken through the park to High Bridge by devoted cavaliers, and there regaled with the customary hot lemonade and mince pie, while j laughter and sleigh-bell, all through lhe night, waking one not unpleasantly, though at unseemly hours, out of a quiet ? sleep, tell of impromptu panics a long' ride shortened with jest and fun, with an oyster supper at one end of ft, and a MoSenkissor render hand-pressure at the other. There are boon that never do return; a f< w of t)»em have to sufSre for a lifetime,’’ 7

The Ice-Palace. Tffs winter of the year 1710 was a very severe one in Russia; poverty and misery abounded in the land, and, in order to give occupation to some of the many thousands of people who were thrown out of work by the inclemency of the season, the Empress Anne planned and caused to be constructed a work of architecture which, though of little durability, had the merit of entire originality. This was the celebrated ice-palace which was built in St. Petersburg according to the designs of Alexis Danilowitsch. It was made out of the purest and most transparent ice cut out in great masses from the frozen Neva, and brought up teethe building-site by means of cranes and pulleys. The single blocks were worked out in the most accurate manner and adorned with various architctural. decorations; when two completed ones were to be 'placed upon each other water was first poured between them, which, freezing, al once united them in a single mass. Thus the whole building seemed to be cut out of one frozen whole and the bluish tint of the pure ice made if resemble one of those enchanted edifices carved out of a single diamond of which we read as children in fairy tales. The house, properly so called, was forty-six feet long, eighteen broad, and twenty-one high. The front was divided by pillars into compartments, in each of which was a window, the frame-work being painted green; the panes, Also of ice, were as transparent and smooth as ground glass; at night they were gener ally lighted up from the inside and then the whole house was illuminated by tne softest pearly light. The center division looked like an entrance and was richly decorated, the real inlets being at the back and consisting of two moderatelysized openings, about which were grouped flowers and trees; on the latter were perched quaint-looking birds, all made of ice and gayly painted so as to resemble nature. The roof which surmounted the whole was flat and surrounded by an ornamental balcony, decorated by ststues standing upon low pedestals. Round the house was fixed an elaborate railing, also of ice, which inclosedabroad space for walking. In front of this ihclosure stood six guns, three on each side. They were of the size of fopr-pounders, but being of ice they were only loaded with half a pound, and the balls, which consisted of pressed tow, would pierce through a board two inches thick from a distance of sixty steps without bursting the gun. On each side lay a dolphin, which threw up lofty jets of naphtha at night and so formed two beautiful fountains of fire. At both ends of the row of guns in front of the inclosure stood two pyra-' midal buildings, on each -of which was painted a sun-dial.' They were lighted up at night with great paper lanterns. On the left side of the Louse was a lifesized elephant; upon his back was a man with a battle-ax, and in front two guides in Persian costume. The elephant was hollow, and spurted from beneath his tusks, twenty-four feet into the air, by day a shower of water, and by night a feathered spray of glowing naphtha. At the right side was an enormous bath, made, in true Russian fashion, of round blocks of ice. s ■ The interior of the house was divided into three compartments, viz., a spacipus ante-room and two side apartments; one of these was arranged as a bed-room, and contained, in addition to a table borne by two figures—upon which were placed every species of sweet-smelling casket and bottle—a pair of candlesticks, and candles which were dipped in naphtha, and shone at night without melting; a. looking-glass and a little clock hung on the wall.. The bedstead was richly furnished with pillows, blankets and a beautiful embroidered coverlid; these were the only things in the whole palace that were not made of ice. On one side was a pretty fire-place and grate filled with ice-coals, which were also dipped in naphtha, and shone brightly at night The second room might be called the dining room. The most charming adornment there was a lovely clock, through the transparent case of which the whole mechanical array of wheels could be seen. On all sides were sofas and armchairs, and in the corners elegantly, draped figures, as of sculpture. Against the walls stood ice-cupboards, in their transparency as of glass, through which might be seen a goodly stock of dinner paraphernalia, knives, forks, spoons, drinking-cupe, as well as every sort of food; all and everything was of icesome shining brightly, others again painted with the most natural colors of the objects represented. . This wonderful work of art, the enormous cost of which could only be justified by the fact that It did. good to many thousands of persons, remained intact from the beginning of January till the middle of the month of March, when the mild-epring sun undermined its supporta and slowly consumed its beauty.—Aunt Judge Magatine. A little six-year-old girl in Monroe went into a store where her father ;Was the other day, and, slyly approaching him, said: “ Papa, won’t yon buy me a new dress?" "What, buy you a new dress, Susg?” “Yes, papa, won’t you?” “ Well, PH see ; I’ll speak to your mother about it” Elongation to analarming extent rapidly apread over that little countenance, but a thought suddenly struck her, and with a smile she looked up into her father’s face and said: “Well, papa, if you do speak to mamma about it,. du it easy, or she may want the new dress herself!” The father at once saw the point, and the new dress yas purchased. —LfrUetos (Jfam.) Republic. The YoungstownXOhio) Regitter tells a tough story. A maa employed in one of the iron mills in that place had a finger cut off m the large shears. The Regitter closes the “item” with this statement: “ The first intimation that Mr. Cook bad wf his misfortune was from a followworkman, who'picked up the end of the severed finger from under the shears and handed it to him." If that man should be hanged be wouldn’t know anything about it until some kind friend called Ms attention to the account of the exe cution Ip the newspapers,

Jfor gating graders. HOW DOLLS ARE MADE. BY OLIVE THORNE. Darling Rosabel came from the ragbag. From the rag-bag! you don’t see how anything nice can come from such a place,' do you say? I fear you’ll be shocked when I tell you that not only Rosabel, who is a “ perfectly-lovely” wax-doll, but your own most precious dolly, if she’s anything better than china, probably came out of the same dreadful place. To be sure her head, neck, hands and feet are all of wax outside, and, as only this covering shows, she is just as good and as pretty as though she were wax all through; and you know the old saying that “ beauty is b.ut skin deep.” Ttoi t, nevertheless, she did come out of the rag bag, and I’ll tell you all about it, while she sits there on the sofa, elegantly dressed, and looking as lovely as though' she never even heard of such things as rags. The true story of her life, since she was first created, would be. very interesting; but it would make a big book, and I can't tell you half of it. A new doll, did you say? Well, I know she has not lived long in her present shape, but you must remember that she was not always stroll; she was once wrapped up in a green bud, growing on, a bush. She came out of that long white bit of catton, went through ever so many processes, and became cotton cloth of some kind; was bought and sold and made upand used, washed and ironed and worn out as cloth, just to begin with. Think of all that probably happened to her before she even became rags! That was only the beginning. After being worn-out rags she went into the rag-bag ar the alley, made a journey on the back of a rag-map, went. through a dreadful course of soaking, and washing, and boiling, and bleaching, and pressing, and drying, and ever so much else before she came out nice clean paper, ready for use again. Did you suspect your dolly had ever been paper? Well, she was paper once, and who can tell what may have been her life when in that state—whether she was beautitnl note-paper and carried loving messages from one friend to another, or whether she was used for business writing, or for wrapping up confectioners' dainties, or whether she was made into a book or not, or did good or, harm. She'll never open her lips to tell of her past life; but you may be sure she was put to some use as paper, and could tell strange stories of what she has seen if she could only remember—and talk. •> You see she’s very old, older than any of you, and I don’t think it’s respectful to old age to treat her as some of you do. 1 hope you’ll mend your manners toward her, now that you know about her age and dignity. • i When the paper of which she is made was old and soiled and unfit for use it was taken to a doll manufactory, in the little city Soniieburg, near the northern border of Bavaria, and there it vent through the operations that made it into this pretty doll, x The first thing, of course, is lo make that mass of paper into a clean pulp, and we’ll leave it boiling away in «a big kettle while we see what the doll-mak£rs are doing to get ready to use it. First they must have a model of M as Dolly’s head. A model, you know, is a figure made of the exact size and shape of the head, for a pattern. The man who makes the model has a narrow work bench which be can make higher or lower, or even turn around if he wishes. From a lump of soft clay he cuts and shapes a doll's head and neck. When the model is finished the modeler makes lines on it a ith colored crayons as a guide to the next workman, who is called a molder. When the pattern, or model, is ready there must be made a mold in which to shape the paper pulp from the kettle. This is made by the molder. He takes the pretty clay model when it is dry and hard, and lays rit face up in a dish of wet clay, pressing the clay into every corner up to the colored line which the modeler made This being done, be builds a wad of clay around the mass, coming up some inches higher all around than the face of the model, which is left uncovered. The whole looks life a box half full of clay, with a face looking out of it. One man then holds tbe clay walls together while another one pours 6ver the face some melted sulphur. Sometimes plaster of Paris is used instead of sulphur, but it is not thought to be so good. The mold is not done yet. Tbe clay was put on merely to protect that part of the head while the rest was molded. When the sulphur is cold the box is turned over and the clay taken away, leaving Miss Rosabel With her jace buried in sulphur. It’S well she cannot smell; the visitors to the room who ow». do not care to stay long. Clay walls are again built up and more sulphur is poured in to make a mold for the back of her bead. Now tbe mold is finished and we must go back to our pa}>er pulp, which we left, boiling, you kno w. When soft and ready for use the water is squeezed out and other things added—some powdered elay to make it stiff and • little glue to make it sticky. These are worked uo together till the mass is about like dough,'and indeed it is made into loaves. Then a man with a rolling-pin rolls out the paper dough—popier-mocAs it is called—for another man to shape. He makes it a little thicker than pie-crust and then cute it into pieces the right size fcr use, making a pile of them, with flour or powdered clay between to prevent their sticking together. These thin cakes of paper dough are then pressed into the molds for Doily’s bead. When the workman has carefully fitted > the sheet of dough into every part of the mold he paresoff the edges with a knife as you see a cook cut the crust from a pie plate, lifts the half head out of the mold and lays it on the table to dry a little. When dry enough ft is again pressed in tbe mold to giro R » more per-

feet shape, and then is dried for the last time. The two halves being finished they are glued together, and Miss Rosabel for the first time takes an upright position on a shelf, where she stands till she is hard and dry, looking more like stiff pasteboard than anything else. Miss Dolly is not very pretty in that state, I must admit. Bfce is of a dingy gray color, with no -eyes and no hair. However, she is not yet finished. Her next journey is to the eye-setter. A rough doctor he is, and the first thing he does is to cut off the top of her head by running a sharp knife around it and knocking the piece out with a hammer. • What for* Merely to put in her eyes, my dear; and a curious operation it is, too. If they were immovable eyes, like a common doll’s, they .wou'd be simply glued in; but in a young lady of Miss Rosabel’s pretensions, who meekly shuts her eyes when her mamnpa lays her down, there is much to be done. In the first place, the eyes themselves, life-like as possible, have been carefully made of glass, in a large factory which turns out nothing but eyes; lliese the eye-setter now fastens to a piece of curved wire with a ball of lead on the end. it is the weight of this lead which makes her eyes close when her head goes down. Then the workman, with a sharp knife, cuts a hole for each eye and goes on to put them in. I can’t explain exactly how he makes them ail secure but there is plaster to hold them in place and support the cheeks; a cork or sponge to* keep the lead from hitting her chin; pieces of wood to prevent her head from being easily crushed, and various arrangements by means of which the whole is made firm and strong and able to endure the hard knocks she may expect in the rough life before her. When everything is in, the cut off Slice of her head is glued on again, and Miss Rosabel has received all the furbishing for the inside of her head that she wall ever have. If your poor doji ever is so unfortunate as to break her head, you can look in and see all this machinery, if you like. Now the inside is finished the next thing is to put on her lovely complexion. First must be removed any roughness, such as bits of glue at the seams of her head. ’ Women now go to work on Miss Rosabel’s head one filing the roughness off, and another giving it a,coat of ruddy, flesh-colored paint from the top of the head to the ends of the shoulders. Dolls who have hair made of the same material as their heads, like bisque and china dolls, have the hair varnished black, but Rosabel has real hair, so she is colored alike all over. A frightfullooking object she is, too, with color enough for a boiled lobster. When she has received her color, and got dry, she proceeds to the next operator, who is the waxer. I should have told you before that her hands and feet were made in the same way as her head, molded, and painted and waxed. The bodies of cloth or leather are made by families outside of the factory, and brought in all ready for the heads. Can your dolly cry? Rosabel can, and therefore her b dy is stuffed with hay, because sawdust, the usual sluffing, would get into her crying machine, and make her dumb forever after. To give her a voice, you must know, she has a sort of a bellows-like arrangement, such as yon have seen attached to a toy cat, which when pressed would mew. These parts are all made and’put together outside of the* factory, and the finished bodies brought in And now comes the next process, Which is coloring her face. You thought she had color enough. Well, she has her flesh tint, but her lips are white and she has no eyebrows, nor hshes, and no brighter cheeks than firebrands, which will never do. She must go to the painting-room. Into a kettle of boiling clear white beeswax Miss Dolly is dipped, and then is held up to drain. If she had been intended for a cheap dull she would have received but one dip, but being destined to belong to toe aristocracy of the doll world she receives several dips, each one giving her a thin coat of wax and toning down her flaming complexion into a delicate pink. The reason she was painted so red, you know, is that she may have the proper tint when the wax is on. In this room is a long table with several workmen, each of whom does only one thing. The first one paints Miss Dolly's lips, and seta her down on the other side of him. The next one takes her up and puts on her eyebrows. The third colors her cheeks. The fourth pencils her eyelashes, and so she goes on down the table, growing prettier at every step. But she has yet no hair. Now Rosabel has a regular wig, made of real hair on a foundation of lace, and glued on, but many of the dolls in the factory have locks made of fine wool, Which look like real hair. This wool is braided up tight, and boiled to make it stay wavy. It is curled over a glass tnbe, and glued to the head curl by curl, whether long or short. If it is yellow, it is the natural color of the wool; if any other color, it has been dyed. Sometimes the hair is elaborately braided, and doae up in style. I dare say you have seen it put around in a droll German coil, and held by tifay hair-pins. Generally, however, it is preferred in curls or loose waves. 4 Now the bead is done; and how many people do you suppose have had a hand in bringing it from the paper pulp to the present state? You can’t tell? Not ‘ less than thirty eight, each one of whom never does but one thing, and thus becomes very skillful. , But though the head is finished, Miss Rosabel is not yet out of the factory. She must have her head; as well as her hands and feet, glued fast to her body; and then—-last but by no means least—she must have a wardrobe. Cheap dolls have merely one garment, loosely stitched together by a machine at the rate of about two cents a dozen. But our dolly was sent to a regular dolls’ dressmaker, and clothed from bead to foot in a very pretty suit. Os course it is not in styje now, for it was made several months ago, you must know. Miss Rosabel is then taken to a warehouse where she Is surrounded by hundreds and thousands of fellow-dolls, • •! ‘ . '

- - Wy * TERMS: $2.00 a Year. ■ - ■ -

NUMBER 5. * - s a C wvnrln vTV tViO CQTVTrt

many of them made in the same mold with herself, and as like her as twin i sisters could be. I have read of one of those warehouses, where twelve rooms were filled with dolls w of all sizes, from one inch long to two feet high. One room was entirely filled with Wooden-jointed dolls, an inch and a half long, piled in a loose heap from floor to ceiling, and another room con- , 4 tained nothing but. dolls’ heads. There were millions of dolls in that one house. You wish you could go there? It would be interesting to you. It looks very droll to see a cart going througMijo streets filled with dolls’ legs, for stance, each one withdean white stocking and bright slipper painted on., •I, One wholesale house in that town buys 30.000 of the inch-and-a-hali bab es every week the year round. Fbr my part, I should think a few years of such work would nearly pave our streets with wood- 4 en dolls? A smart worker can make twenty dozen of this size in a day" ' Wouldn’t it be funny to live where almost the only business carried on is toymaking? Where grown-up n.en and women spend their whole lives in inventing, improving and making dolls that talk, and turn their heads, and shut their eyps, and creep, and walk, besides engines that run, and horses that draw a loan, and steamboats that go —a million ' of dollars’worth, in a year, and all to < amuse the great army of little folks in t the world? Z The children who live in that fairy land, however, care very little for toys; the poor little creatures are all workers. When very young they begin to leain to make some one toy, or part of a toy, and they spend their whole lives at it. The pay is small, and eVery one of the family must help. But to go back to Rosabel. From that warehouse she was packed in a box and sent on a sea voyage; Arrived in America, she was once more brought to light, set up in a shop window, and Jherd ° I found her last Winter, on the day be-' fore Christmas, and brought her home to a little girl that I know. I’m obliged to confess, before I finish, that Rosabel and others made in that | lactory are uvi iv cry xdecc* dcl’e made. There Is the genuine ■wax doll, whose head is of wax all through, and. whose curls and eyebrows and eyelashes are of real hairs, put into the head one by one. Such a doll, with her wardrobe, costs several hundred dollars and is too nice to play with, though pretty to look at- No doubt you little city maids have seen them, with their beautiful —> trunks full of clothes, dresses of all sorts, shoes, gloves, parasols. jewelry, pocket-handkerchiefs, brushes and combs and nearly everything a grown lady needs in her trunk. Do you wish you had one? Well, my dear, let me tell you a secret; you wouldn’t enjoy it half so much as you do can play with and dress and attend to yourself. They are ptfppets — not babies. The other dolls in your play-house, the bisque and china, are made in the same way as Rosabel, only the dough is of clay instead of paper pulp and the heads are baked to make them hard. So your pretty bisque dolls are made of mud, and your wax ones came from the rag-bag. Isn’t it wund-rful what.— . changes go on in the world?— St. Nich- ; 1 ' Destinat oa.” \ “ What’S the fare to Destination?” inquired an individual who had waited his turn in the Pacific Mail Steamship Company’s office in San Francisco. “ To where?" demanded the gentlemanf of the golden beard, frowning through the window. ) . “To Destination, is what I said. Id thought of only getting a ticket to kohama, but since reading that notice? 1 —pointing to one on the wall —“ p raps it might be better to buy one slap through to the other place, hey?” ■ * ' o ” Oh, you’ll goto that pon free. Everyone does,” returned the agent, with — asperity, and turned away. The offended applicant wheeled and took two strides to the opposite walk, where, having first glanced it over to be certain he was right, he read >he notice aloud with tremendous emphasis: ► / *« Passengers who intend going farther than Yokohama are requested to purchase through tickets to Destination, as otherwise they will be charged full local rates from Yokohama, viz.: $l5O to Hong Kong, and so forth.” x “ Now,” said the man, “my beard ain’t yaller, nor maybe so well iled as>ome folks, but I b’leve I’ve read that ’ere notice straight; and if so I want to know what’s the fare to Destination. Denied if I care how far I go if it’s an object; and I’m not peculiar, I expect, in. wanting the most I can get for my property. a You’re paid to give advice to passengers, 1 reckon.” The agent confessed that he was, and r ? so advised the passenger for Destination—to walk up and down the wharf “in the sea-breeze for half yn hour, end then Jo come back for his ticket. Threatening - to report him to the company for neglect of duty the stranger rushed down-stairs as if he would leave his impress on every tread. His ticket waits. ; If we cannot bury our dead in the a ground for fear of unwholesome gases *1 generated from them, nor yet burn them j| and let the odor be wafted into the air, . » what shall we do with them? * A London medical journal now tells this story about cremation: “The remarkable statement has been recently made that ha immense number of corpses burned by the Hindoos, who are compelled by ihe worship of Brahma to burn their dead, is the real cause of Asiatic cholera. The poisonous gases generated in this way hover in the air during the day, but t at night sink into the lower atmosphere, mixing With the water and the various kinds of food, and permeating >he lungs in the process of respiration. In Hindostan the Asiaic cholera is endemic, yet, subject to certain Influences in the at- , moephere, it becomes epidemic, and then causes ruin and destruction th the remotest countries " ' ■ ■ i A PinLAO&U’riu doctor pronounced it an " electric fit;” the Cvroner’sjaryrendered’ifcverdict accordingly, end the poor j man went to his grave with that terrible