The Syracuse Enterprise, Volume 1, Number 18, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 6 May 1875 — Page 1

VOLUME I.

NO-OH A KISS. A WBB bit, winrami-, bonnie rifts My b*die fair,-' Like grspertae tendril#are-the curia Os her dark hair. ? Her face la bright, and loving light 8b inaa in her eyes, I love her well and would I might Her thoughts surmise. I know she loves, and loves full well, She told me so. But whom she love* ahe will not tell. When I would know. And whether I’m the happy one That own* her heart. Or whether ahe is makinx fori With coquette’s art, f And only .tearing me in play, lean not gucMI hope, and yet whene’er I pray She will say yes. She laugh* a merry little laugh Uke robin’s trill, ■ And ttya jl am too dear by half To Ueatao ill. Some day: when I chance to *ee This wayward miss j * I’ll hold her till ahe answers me, k No—or » kl»*. TALE OF TWO WEDDIXKS r ; ' '■ .. [was yoiihg then, for the fliyt wedding I out about to dcscrile look place fortyfive years I Ute minister’* wife, . J and my husband’s parish was in the northern part of the Stale of New York, just verging upoh the Adirondack region. Our people were mainly simple, home-spun Scotch folk, and our church belonged to what was known a* the "Scccder” pcrHUtsion. Many of Ute people talked the Gaelic, and all of them retained the U”v enanter prejudice against by inn-si tigfag mid instrumental music in the house of G<d On Sabbath the pre< cnt->r stood iu the little stall made for hi***- Ixuesth the pulpit, aud iw tuning-fork in hand, hd off the ISal tn, reading every two lfa<Though all the people had books not all of them could rra>l-rand thoM» who cofild Would not have been Wilting to See the old ways forsaken and the reading of the line abolished A little north of us was a colony of Dutch folk who hud no regular settled , insui»ler asjyei ami w vreyiejtend'-ut on the .jmisstonaritjw scut out by the• Dutch R< formed (’htinh, Three people came some times to our meeting ami usually counted on my husband to attend their burials and , perform the marriage ceremony st tin ir weddings The winter of *29 was very cold, and the deep snow lay uponJbe ground from October until nearly the first of l|ay. One bright, moonlight but bitter c -b! <v. n ing. having ftniahed my day’s work of housekeeping. mending and writing letters, and my husband having finished his work of sermon-writing and committing - oh! whal A work it wan to write a sermon an hour long every week and then commit it to memory l—for our g<*>d iVotch folk would n«>t listen to a read wermbh—and having brought in tip- wood for the night and. foddejred the cow. we wen sitting by the cheerful hickory fire, roasting apples and cracking nuts and talking over our affairs,. when out on the clear, frosty air broke the < ry. Halloo' , Halloo the Ihhj.sc!’’ "There’* somebody [for me,” said uiy hu»lu*nd; and, openin|g the door he answered? “ Halloo! what do you want ?” A tram and big open’ sleigh, or rather shjd-—for it hod no side*—stood at the gate and a voice from it answered ** (food evening. Dominic: I’came down to gel ye to 'tend a weddin' up in the 1 ‘ clip*’ (tlilfal. Jake (V'nrall wants to " i jiue Sally Ann Linkumfilterj that lives down to ’squirc Houghtaiin’s, ami they want you Vi come and splice ’em—there’* acotlpie <ff dollar* in it, sure Will ye conic*’ "Aye. aye!” n*pon<fcd my husband. "I’ll be , out in a few 1 minutes,” Coming in. hi* eyes twfahted with Cun as herald: ‘’ I’ll warrant that fellow i* lhe Yankee that has come up from Albany to ; teach the cliff school. He’s an eye t» th< ‘ main chance, too. Did you hear him, clinch the invitation to gw out thia cold night with the prospect of a two-dollar fee ? Well, w ith a salary of only f-W. and the bairuie there to educate, gvery (foliar help#*.’’ The bairnie was our baby-girl, about six month* old, lying asleep in the cradle. “O’Malcolm.’’raid I, "ask the man to come iu while 1 change my drea# and get ready. A? take me and the baby! j-1 have, never been to one iff those Dutch wedding*. and it ia so tonely in this great, b old house without you!” "But. Buran, ills so cold. and the wee bidrnib—what’ll yon do wjth her I” “ She isn't undreswed yet, and her slip i» clean t PH wrap hemp well and U»k her into my muff '* a Well, of course he consented; and in ten minuteti we were out on the sled, aitting down in the straw, and well covered with bear-skin* and buffalo-robes. The muff* we wore in those days were very large—they’d be a cur’uwity now—ami the baby was wry small; so, as I promised. I tucked her into it and she afojvt all the •even mile* When we arrived, the guest* were assembled ; sitting-room and great kitchen full. The bouse was an old fashioned one, with four Rx>ms on the first floor, with the rame above, and over all a great garret. The sitting room Was furnished with old-style, plain lusltogany furniture, straight-backed chain*, heavy table* ami a great bureau nearly five feA ffiigh. ornamented with bran* handtea. and almost as black a* ebony with age. Brass fire dogs, bright a* rubbing could make them, reflected lhe objects around them; a bright fire glowed in die ample fin -place, and on the floor was a home-made rag ctupvt The Mfchek W» ««» i»' meuse room, and had a fire-place al. each end of it large enough to hohi the Hggiret bwc-k-log that might be cn* tn lhe primeval forests cluse at hand./ From the oaken rafters overhead hung strings of , fojeon brown hams. In one corner »tood loom*, •nd beside them a great spinning wheel and a “ Jenny.” The beds had been cleared away from one «ff the bedrooms on for u>e eotertatameiau ixwleu with <%w nMM f °

The Syracuse Enterprise.

stir and clearing of space about the door that separated the kitchen from the sit-ting-room, and lhe bridal party came in. The bride was young and bad the bright ruddy complexion so universal with the girls on those hills, living active, useful lives as they did. She was dressed in tome soft material of worsted and siW: the short sleeves and fonr-lncb bodice were dashed with blue, and ahe wore a blue sash, and blue morocco shoes with high heels. The groom was a stalw irt. broa 1-shouldered young feli<>w, line In htuAesptm clothes aSd liras* buttons. The Yankee schoolmaster and the liriderrnom's sister were groomsman and bridesmaid. Tlie marriage ceremony was short and rimple. Then followed much ki—ine and m«y joke*, some not so remarkable for wjt as a certain coarseness that passed for it. Supper followed, and great was the merriment when the britieemaid drew the ring that had been put in the wedding-cake! After supper the table w® cleared .as by magic; the elder* retired to the sitting-room and the hostess’ liedroom, where on the high-.post bedstead, hung wjth blue checked enrtaink, slept my little! baby, unconscious of all thatw.ns arnunil her-, of all that wsa before her. Tliciyoittip people had gathered in the supper room, and won, the sound of their merriment came in to us. forlbmigltjl was not yet twenty years sj ld 1 was the minister s wifc and had to sit—much agiinst my inclination —with the staid, old people. . “ Hunt the slipper" and kindred games were played with forfeits, and after a white there was a sort of lull, and then a ►< raping and twanging sound, and I knew the alarm for Us to leave had sounded, for the fiddles were heinftuned for the dance; and, sure ent Ugh. nty good husband at once arose an I said very gravely, “ Susan, I think we had better be going now.” Sum we were wrapped up, and baby, who opened her blue eye* only a minute, and stared about w if unable to decide whether Mri was a pay! of her dream dr not, and then shut them again, was tucked once more into llui great muff, and we accepted the invitation of one of our own deacons to ride home: with him and his wife. “Did you get the two dollars, Malcolm*’’ 1 ns|icd. when we were again at our own hekrthstone. " Ye*, indeed," he answered, “ and another dollar beaide r which the school master told me making die cereuwny ao short. Old. Ikiminie Van Horn, of Johnstown, who iiMtl t« do the marrying, was wont lb keep the poor creatun-s standing an hour and .wnnetimv* more The Yankee ‘ reckoned’l had lied ’ctU Jeff * s in five in ;,ut> > And tin dear fellow put into my hand three silver dollars, raying. There Susan, there is so- much toward educating the wee bairnie.” it. I alkali take little space to tell of wedding numlwr fare. lam old now—sixtyfive on Christmas Eve. Time* have changed in forty-five years. A few weeks ago Malcoljn—hi' htdrjs “ like the snow”, now—and I ram* tn the city to visit our daughter—the' "wee bairnie" whom I in< a carried in my muff. And last week we were invited to attend a wedding at one of the collegiate churches in Fifth avenue. The bride is ® the grand daughter of the young woman who waa married that night, forty-five years ago, up in Montgomery County. Hhat a contrast th*t* was in the weddings and in the bride*! This young girl, in her trailing satin drew*, white M shw ted snow; her point D’Aleucon flounces and wreath of real orange bto*M>tns. wiasi as pate as a lily, and her waist wa* *o siepder IhtU 1 wondered how she had strength to carry the weight of her train. No rosea rave white one* bloomed on her ciheek*. No wonder! Sfa never milked the sweet-breathed kine; sAe never carded* wool and flax, and spun and wove, a* her hxndsome grandmother did. Tlie widding "M l very grand one. From lhe church door to tlie sidewalk there wa» an awning, and the pavement was carpeted. There were six bridesmaid* and groomsmen, ahd the church wav filled with gaily -dressed people. The cterpymau who married them wont a gown and read tlie service from a book. I Then at tlie house there was a great display of flower* and present*, and the bride and groom, sarroundeil by their, attend ants, »tf*<d in state for hours and reteivedilh'ir friends; and winea and sass and wonderful: confections were served; and afhjr the guest* had left, the bridal iwrty went in a special train on their wedding fate. I suppose It is I who am wrong and that Utese changes are but necessary concomitants to the advance of wealth and culture. but it dura seem to me that there was more heartiness, more realneaa In the old than in the new. Wouldn’t our girls have more rid rose* in their cheeks, more vigor in their frainra, if we could go back to the simple! life of forty-fiveyearo ago? Would not we jdl be better and happier*—" iteek* te nwote. ‘ »'• Jf’- |SL a The steamship Non Scotian, which arrived at Baltimore recently, from UrerpoolL fia Halifax, reporta that at eight a. m. QU the 14th of April, in latitude 48 deg. 30 min , longitude 4» deg. W min., an immense ice-field waa met in the Atlantic. The steamship akirted Ua edge for live hours, and altered her course to escape U. From the mast-heads,» far as the eye could reach with the aid of glasses, an unbroken stretch of ice waa to be teen, extending fur many miles. There were in it many *mall icebergs and a number of vessels, some of them long distances from the outer edges, and sbeming to have been caught there • ■ tong while before. There were a ship, 1 -flfa barks, a-tife, and so ; far ip they could not be made out. This tec had come down from the Arctic i regions, and the imprisoned veeaels had ' doubtless come many miles with It, and R hflbkot be libefafa nil! tfa warmer > waters of the gulf strewn melts them f out The steamship afa reports that I bceh forced to seek reftige in lhe harbor , of Halffax, where they were driven I the heavy field* of floating Arctie tee. t J To gfaYOtTis HtSTUtG.-Bnb freah j Cut h into a hot heat it tb«v j I *

ITEMS OF INTEREST. in* end of everything—the letter g. It takes only two seconds to arrange a e duel. I Boston complains of stagnation in her t business-blood. Bois see their palmy days when tfiey . arrive at a spanking age. --L I J A Japakxsb variety of lhe persimmon ► has been introduced iXleJCalifornia. ‘ Thky have an Amalgamated Tailors’ Society in England. What is an amalgamated tailor? Maike claims to have been the first State to allow women to solemnize marriagea. .. ... if. ■ The man who courted in investigation says it isn’t so good as an affectionate girl. Neveb spend any time musing on the meanness of an enemy. Better use it thinking of the virtues of your friends. Wbess cold acquaintance suddenly changes and becomes kind, look out for him —be expects pay for it. Tub height of anticipation—A dentist sitting in his own chair all day and grinning at the candy-shop over the way. Why are the fond glances a mather casts upon her baby like Turkish cavalry? Because they are mammy-looks (Mamelukes). Thb courts of South Carolina have ruled that in the trial of an issue of fact involving the examination of a writtenor printed instrument it is good ground of challenge to a Juror that he cannot read. The hunt for Charlie Ross still continues. No heart is so wicked that it does not feel a pang of sympathy for the poor lad’s parents, and the recovery of the boy would be gladly hailed by every household in America. Whbn the Lebanon (Ky.) Standard lake* held of a metaphor there is some desperate wrestling. Os the recent cold snap It remarks ■■ " J ack Frost gave us a parting and, we fear a fatal, kick in the short ribs, nipping us in the bud, so to speak.” A half century ago an old gentleman in Southern Massachusetts caused evary shingle with which he covered his roof to be first dipped in boiling whale oiL The other day his grandchildren replaced the shingles on the old mansion /Or the first time, and found many of them in a perfect state of preservation The young and progressive live in the future; the aged and retrogressive in the past. Hope inspires the former; memory is dear to. the latter. Most men run half the race of life, then, turning, walk back to the starting-place—childhood. Few are the noble souls that press on to the end.' A Boston lady, while in Paris twb years ago, sent a letter to her sweetheart, a ship Captain, addressing it to Bt. Helena. It missed the wanderer, and followed him about the world, finally returning to Paris, where the Captain’s banker forwarded it to Boston. It reached him one evening as he was bouncing a six-weeks-old baby on his knee, he having married the writer of the letter a year ago. They have a new wrinkle in Boston for making chickens out of old hens—that is, by breaking lhe breast bone about one and one-half inches from the point where a person feels for it. It looked as if it had been done with long pliers by bending the bone up. It is very nicely done, and cannot be discov ered until the chicken is dissected. This is no fish story, for I bought them myself; but 1 should call it foul play.—(for. AT. F. HfrM. Boston offers some prodigies in the way of cat*. Five kittens were born in one of Ua suburb* recently, each of which was joined to another after the manner of the Siamese twins. The owner, who bad doubtless never heard of Barnum, had them all drowned. At the South End, the Boston Htrald says, a lady has a kitten, not two months old, which has five heads—one in the usual place and one at each knee-joint on both front and hind legs. The tail grows perpendicularly up from the back, and cannot be bent downward without causing the animal to cry. _ The Bffy ®n Moving Day, One of the moat disastrous elements in a moving is a small boy with an aspiring disposition. If he carries anything, it must be a chair, which he takes on his bead with the back at the front, so a* to prevent him from seeing where be is go- • ing, and with the erect legs in range of the chandelier and upper door casings. Thu* equipped, be strike* a military step, improvising hi* mouth into a trumpet, and start* mrt. In lea* than a quarter of an hour he has thatchair safely on th* cart where it is not wanted, and is hurrying back after another. Before the carman ha* returned for the aeeond toad, the one boy has< developed into eight, each boy with a chair, each boy under feet, and each boy making as much noise as a piautag-mill on a damp day. If a boy cannot get a chair to cany he wants two bed'poeta. Be wanta twpso he can carry one under each arm. Then he starts down-stairs. First the posts cross each other at the front and nearly throw him flown, then they crow at the back and the front ends fly oft at a tangort,<Mte of fafa digging into 4m calcimined wall and the other entangling In the banister* But be won’t tot one of them go, but hangs on to both with exasperating obstinacy. In th* meantime the carman, who is working by the load that boy back of the Rocky Mountain* for about fifteen minutes; and the anxious father, with a straw-bed in hjs arms and his eyes full of dust, is at the head of the stair* waiting to come down, and vociferating at the top of hto voice, until - on furniture I* worn off to the boy, andl he s is bring fap jteragt. I JFsfa

SYRACUSE, INDIANA, THURSDAY, MAY 6, 1875.

A story Js told of a woman in Providence who, having secured a good place to see the St. Patrick procession, report--1 ed to apoliceman that she had lost her child and earnestly asked him to find it for her, as she did not dare to go in search of it, for if she did she would “ lose her place.” ** Do von know that only two out of every 100 who come to Chicago to try their fortunes succeed)” said Old Realist to a brawny youth applying at his bank for something to do, the other day. “That may be, sir,” replied the lad, “ but I’ll be one of the two.” That boy will get along. “ Shall women," exclaimed Lucy Stone in a public lecture at Providence, the other day, “ leave their children at home and neglect them while they go to vote?" Just at this point a little infant that had been quietly sleeping in its mother’s arms awoke and, in protest to some motherly correction, cried out lustily: “No-o-o!” A young man who had been discharged from employment in a Boston railroad office applied to be reinstated the other day, and was told that his request would be granted if he would get married. The officials immediately forgot the matter, but the young man soon returned with a girl. A Justice of the Peace united them on the spot and he was restored to his position. About Spiders. 0 • Perhaps none of the numerous spider family offers so many facilities for the accurate observation of her life and habits as the common garden spider (Eorira diadema). Fixing her dwelling between the branches of the_ smaller bushes and shrubs, or between the railings of the garden, or, better still, in a sly corner in front of some convenient window, she affords easier opportunities for daily observation than any other variety. She is not at all particular which side of the window is selected, as she seems to thrive equally well whether inside or out, only losing, when inside, that brightness of color which distin gulsh the open-air dweller. Constructing a beautifully-formed circular, or, as it is sometimes called, geometric, net across a pane of glass, her every movement can be studied with advantage. From the center of the work run radiat- , ing lines like the spokes of a wheel, attached at the outside end to long and much stronger lines, usually of a triangular shape, stretching from one side of the woodwork of the pane to the other. These radiating lines are again crossed by another set of concentric circular threads, at gradually-widening intervals, making, altogether, when, finished, a piece of work of a more delicate texture than any dainty lady’s embroidery. So wonderfully fine, indeed, are the mate- , rials of which it is made, that a thread only just visible to the naked eye has been proved, by some of the best ctomologfsts, to have been spun out of a thousand strands issuing together from the spider’s spinnerets and tubes, the comparatively coarse threads of the house spider containing about 400 united strands. From the center of the web of the garden-spider to her hiding-place, in one of the upper corners of the windowpane, runs a strong, cord-like gangway or passage, only connected with the main work in the middle. With her feet rest-' ing on one end ot this connecting rope she feels the slightest vibration of the net when a fly is caught, rushes to the center, feels with her feet on which of the strands the fly is entangled, and - darts at once to the place, and soon finishes her victim. The spider is evidently guided to her prey more by touch than sight. The spider’s touch, how exquisitely fine! Feels at each thread, and lives along the line. Unlike the common house spider (.IrtwMw danwatun), which rushes straight al her prey and drags it at once in her , mouth into her den, to be killed and . eaten in darkness, the geometric spider, even if a fly be caught near her hidingplace, runs first to the center to discover the whereabouts of her prey. Unlike the house spider, too, she kills the fly on the , web where it is caught, the rapid death of the victim showing the virulence of the spider’s poison, which is distilled into the wound through hollow fangs like those of a serpent, if the fly be a small one—say a midge—and lies perfectly still when caught, the spider will feel all ; the strands in the center round and round two or three times before finding . on which part of the net the little tit-bit t lies. When a wasp is caught, if the , spider cannot see her way to a safe blow, , she will either weave her enemy In a , stronger mesh and wait till the wasp is almost dead from exhaustion, or, if her network be in danger of being all broken up by such a strong intruder, she will cut the threads that hold it and let her dangerous customer go. There is a little black fly, shaped like an ant, but smaller, often caught in ene of these circular nets, which frequently escapes by wriggling itself clear. Whether it is fur niahed with some sharp weapon of defense, or has the power some beetles are well known to possess, of emitting a pungent essence against its enemies, would be difficult to determine; but the spider soon beats a retreat when she finds she has caught a Tartar, and either allows it to wriggle itself free or waits at a conven lent distance until the fly Is completely exhausted by its struggles. Unless the fly killed on the open web boa very small one, the garden spider does not carry her prey to her den in her mouth, but wraps it up in a bundle in a kind of sling, and runs to her lair with her victim hanging down behind her-cleverly preventing the loosely-hung bundle from getting entangled on the way. DepositJ||the booty at the entrance of her tupmdahaped home, she quietly enjoys her meal, sucks the body dry, usually removing all traces of her recent slaughter. When another spider appears upon the scene, however, ner aemeanor b very i different. Gathering as many strands of her web as possible inker saw-like daws I " - •

cautious way they approach each other, evidently conscious the fight means death to one or both. Spreading out their legs on each side, as if to guard against a side attack, and reaching as far as possible with their fore legs, they open wide their jaws, and look very formidable indeed, each presenting to the other a “ horrid front.” It is a duel in which the one that can plant the first well-directed blow conquers. Once let the fangs of the one be planted in the other’s body, and the one seized will curl itself up and quietly yield to an inevitable doom. It is a question if, in their personal encounters with each other, these cunning creatures do not fight with a full knowledge of how to use poisoned weapons independently of their fangs. When ap proaching one another for that final gripe both seAn to dread, they will stop, and place in their mouths first one and then the other claw of the long fore leg, with which it is part of their strategy to overreach each other. For what purpose? Is it to dip the claws in their poison-bags or glands, knowing that a single scratch inflicted on the body of an adversary by a poison-tipped weapon will eventually prove fatal* The spider is surely the very Ishmael of insects; from the time in early spring when, bursting the yellow bag or cocoon in which the parent spider had deposited her eggs, the young ones take their solitary way through life, with their hands, as it were, against every one, and every one’s hand against them. Even their matrimonial alliances are formed with unusual precautions, not altogether unnecessary when the bride, the larger of the two, not unfrequently finishes the honeymoon by devouring her lackless husband. The circular web is perhaps adapted to the fly-catching business than any other, as the proprietors drive a roaring trade, and soon wax fat, especially after the apparently painful process of casting the skin has been successfully accomplished, a process that leaves them for two or three days very weak, and devoid of their usual animation. After peeling off the skin the legs are clear and almost transparent, not unlike a piece of amber. Toward evening the garden spider leaves her lair and takes up her station in the middle of the web, with her feet resting on the radiating threads, ready on the slightest vibration to pounce upon her prey. Evening, too, is the time usually selected for gathering up her broken strands; though Kirby and Spence, in their admirable “Introduction to Entomology,” evidently go too far when they assert that the concentric circles of the geometric nets are all renewed every twenty-four hours,- the patchy appearance of the structure after being some time in use being in strong contrast to its beautiful regularity when first constructed, which a total renewal would naturally restore. The spider is never, apparently, off her guard, and is always either “ fishing or mending the net,” the proverb about catching a weasel asleep being equally applicable to this wide-awake, feather- ■ less fly-catcher. She is not a bad barometer either, for when rain is threatened—especially those warm, summer, showers that fill with fragrance and set the blackbird’s rich contralto caroling through the air—this spider may be seen busily engaged arranging her “parlor” for her welcome guests, the flies, whom she invites to “ walk in,” knowing that the coming rain will drive them for shelter to the nearest bush or building. In striking contrast to the jolly openair life of the garden spider is the dismal existence that can hardly be called life passed by many common house spiders. Constructing a web of strong, cloth-like texture, slung like a hammock, in some out-of-the-way corner, her life is spent in a state of chronic semi-destitution, waiting for the infatuated fly that may accidentally dro[f in. Her powers of endurance must be something wonderful. When hunger can be borne no longer this spider—a determined cannibal when nothing better can be had—will starton a hunting expedition after other spiders of a smaller kind, exercising in the nefarious quest a good deal of cunning. The house spider passes the winter in both the egg and perfect form. The writer on the 10th of February roused a large, torpid house spider from its sleep, which slowly and with much difficulty made its way up the wall to a crevice in the ceiling, evidently thinking with the sluggard: “ You have waked me too soon; I must slumber again.” On the same date, Feb. 10—a cold, frosty day—a cocoon that was observed to be turning darker colored than others was opened and found to be full of perfectly-formed young spiders, nearly black. Some of them began to move, and one fell out of the neat on to some paper beneath, when, on moving the paper, the young straggler was found hanging to it, four or five inches below, proving that as soon as spiders are batched they have the power of attaching themselves to any object they touch, by a line of their own making strong enough to bear them. Theyevi dently knew it was too early to separate, for, on being left to themselves, they were soon after found huddled together in a round heap, each in the shape the old ones assume when simulating death. One of the prettiest, as it is certainly one of the most entertaining, of our native spiders is a small jumping species, called by naturalists Satticut which almost any sunny day in summer may be seen dodging about on the win. dow-sill to get within leaping distance of some unconscious fly, on which it will spring Hke a diminutive tiger, with fatal precision. Beautifully marked with black and white or black and brown stripes, this active little hunter manages to pick up a living without The trouble of manufacturing a web. The extraordinary maneuvers practiced by it are extremely amusing, and to any sportsman fond of stalking his game a quiet study of this little creature’s method of getting near its prey without [spiders, as it is also the most handsomeAs the |so th® art of flying tb« air with- ... a. '

out wings was regularly practiced by the tiny gossamer spider long before Montgolfier and the earliest aeronauts constructed their first balloons. Running to the topmost point of a garden gate or railing, it will elevate its abdomen and shoot out a streaming line until it is long enough to bear the weight of its small body, when it will spring into the air and go floating on the current, with the gauzy thread gleaming in the autumn sun. Some entomologists affirm that this mysterious little animal, that has so long been a puzzle to them, has the power oi shooting out its thread toward any object it pleases. It is hardly possible, however, that such an impalpable, filmy substance, so exceedingly fine as to be quite invisible except when flashing in the sunshine, can do otherwise than go with the prevalent current of air. Though they are occasionally met with during the summer, it is only toward the end of autumn that they appear at all numerous. Whence come they in such immense numbers some years, compared with others, covering our fields and lawns at dewy eve with an invisible network, which the morning sun transforms into a brilliant veil, clothing the earth as with a garment of silvery gauze, studded with liquid gems, until the deW evaporates and leaves them again at liberty to resume their aerial flights? Beside the varieties already noticed there are other wanderers that might be Studied with both pleasure and profit There is, for instance, the long-legged shepherd spider, that may be seen at any time in summer, particularly in the hayfield, always apparently in a desperate hurry to be in time either for a fesst or a fray, rtlicn that blessed millennium arrives when the lion shall lie down with the lamb, the shepherd spider and our old friend, daddy-long-legs, will, no doubt, make a capital pair, and, forgetting their previous mortal feud, will live long together and be, as the story-books say, “happy ever after.” All our native spiders are comparatively harmless to man, except one found occasionally in cellars, which causes a painful swelling by its bite, though this has been doubted by some careful observers. In some tropical countries, however, the bites of certain large spiders are considered very painful, if not dangerous; and Mme. Marian's pathetic picture of a large spider killing a humming-bird, dragged from its nest, often doubted, has been confirmed by later travelers. Alas, poor humming-bird! In danger of extermination, not from bird or beast of prey, but from the dictates of a heartless fashion, by which thy joyous life is sacrificed, that thy bright little body may adorn my lady’s head-gear! Perhaps enough has been written about spiders to induce some of our readers to show a little more consideration toward these useful, but often persecuted, creatures. If some of their characteristics are calculated to inspire aversion, they, at any rate, fill their al loted part in the economy of nature. They assist materially—along with other destroyers—in keeping down hosts of flies that would soon become intolerable. The fecundity of some species of flies is so prodigious it has been computed that three and their progeny would eat the carcass of a horse sooner than a lion would! Cobwebs, as they are called,may be offensive to people of a tidy turn, but, as Southey quaintly remarks, “ the more spiders there were in the stables the less would the horses suffer from flies.” As the sluggard is commanded to “ go to the ant, consider her ways and be wise,” so, in considering the ways of other tiny beings, equally interesting, if not so popular, may we have wisdom enough to profit by their lessons of patience, vigilance and industry.— Chambert’ Journal. ® A Horrible Death. At the Devil’s Elbow, about six miles below Black Hawk, on the line of the Colorado Central Railway, where the bed of the road is hewn out of the solid rock, owing to the extreme narrowness of the valley of Clear Creek at the point, an accident occurred on Wednesday evening last which takes rank as one of the most horrible and terrible on record. A Chinaman, Lin Wau, working in the gulch mines along the creek, was pursued by a wild and furious bull, which had wandered*away from his herd up the creek. Fur safety the Celestial took to the track, but was closely followed by the infuriated animal to the Devil’s Elbow, where the bed of the creek is about twenty feet below the track, and the top of the telegraph poles on a line with the rails. One hurried moment had the Chinaman to realize that his enemy was upon him, when with all the force of brute power one horn went piercing through the back, passed through the abdomen and came out in front. It was the work of an instant to raise, like a feather, the mass of bleeding, screaming human flesh, and, with a toss, to hurl it across the track and into the gulch. The unfortunate Chinaman, thus gored unto death and tossed into air, in his descent struck upon the end of a telegraph pole, which entered the very same gaping wound made by the horn of the brute in his back, and the pain-tortured, bloodbesmeared victim was impaled in mid-air. Without speech, and pale with horror at the sight, his companions stood powerless until the heart-rending cries of the unfortunate awoke them to duty. He was then taken from his apqading position as speedily as possible, bur died in a few minutes. The bull, after accomplishing this deed, passed up the canon, and had not been captured at last accounts.— Denver Tribune. Tub Lawrence (Kan.) street railroad baa been sold at Sheriff’s sale, and at a low figure. One party bought the track, rjght of wny and franchise, and the equipment was divided among several parties. It will probably require the formation of anew company to get the fragments of property together again and put the road into operation. Alexander Stephens says the next President wB be a newspaper man. That is the first kind word the boys have had for many a long day. Keep on, old man, and the boys will scratch something niceovar your tombstone, if you’ll let them know who it is. . Statute of Limitations— -The het of

' '.gar gating geadtrs. 5 LITTLE FIDGET. f | BT GBOKGK COOPER, r If there’s .mischief she is in it; Why, she’s never still a minute! On the go from morn tin night, And she looks a perfect fright. What she’s like, I cannot guess it; Like an eel?—that won’t express it! Mother chides the little midget—- > Calls her “sueh a fidget!” Up and down the stairway tramping, Thro’ the hallway stamping, stamping; > If you ask her to be still, Pretty eyes with tear-drops fill. : “ Making more than twice the noise i Could be made by twenty boys” — * That’s what mother says to midgot; Oh, she’s such a fidget! 1 Soon, however, comes her bedtime; You should see her then, at said time, I In her little gown so white; Hear her whisper sweet “ good-night,” I Mark her pretty, sad confessions Os her very small transgressions! Then you'd love our little midget, Tho' she’s such a fidget! —Hearth and Home. 1 « ■ tr Stories Told by Kocks. » 1 Can rocks tell stories? Well, not faltehoode, at least; or, in fact, any other I kind of stories that have to be> told in i words. But they have away of telling stories, and very interesting ones too. These stories must be interpreted, though, before they can be understood; and their interpreter is geology Suppose, for instance, that a man who knew nothing at all about geology should see the plain print of a rain-drop in eolid rode. Such a person would probably think the single drop of water had forced its way into hard stone. But geology makes us understand that the rock was a bank of soft clay when the rain-drop fell on it, making a little dent, which remained in it after it had turned to stone. In this way rocks relate their own histories; and they not only do that but they tell us many wonderful stories of other things—stories of floods and fires, volcauoes and earthquakes, gigantic wild beasts and men hardly less fierce and savage, strange and terrible monsters and even dragons, or at least creatures that looted very much like them. These things that looked like dragons were called pterodactyl*, from two Greek words meaning “wing" alfd “finger.” They had wings very much like those of bats, joined to a long claw or finger on the outsides of their four feet, and with these wings they could fly fast enough to catch swift insects. Their heads were something like those of crocodiles, and their great strong jaws and sharp teeth must have had a very dangerous and altogether unpleasant look. They were of different sizes, but some were very large indeed, with wings more than twice as wide, from tip to tip, as those of the biggest bird in the world. These frightful things lived a very long time ago, and their skeletons have been found among the rocks where they have been for thousands of years. The rocks have kept them safe for us, so that we could tell what sort of creatures used to live in the world in very ancient times. Skeletons of many other strange and terrible animals have also been found among the rocks. One of them was a tremendous elephant, a great deal bigger than any you ever saw in a menagerie, with long tusks which curled around like one of those twisted horns we some? times see in a musical instrument store, and which looks as if somebody been trying to tie them in a knot. Others were like various animals now in the world, but very much larger. Some of the bones that have been found belonged to birds which must have been almost as big as the “ rocs" you have probably read about in the “ Arabian Nights." It would be very inconvenient, I think, to have one of those tall fowls around now, particularly if he should take a notion to pick up a little boy or two in his big beak and stalk away with him. And the people that should go out gunning after such game would have to take a small cannon along if they expected to do much harm at one shot. The njen that lived in the days when" some of these monstrous beasts and birds still remained on the earth were very rough and savage fellows, and were not a bit afiraid of them, even if they were so much “ over their size." Although they did’nt have any guns or pistols, or any other weapons that we would think much of, yet they not only defended themselves againfit the great animals, but even hunted them, ate their flesh and clothed themselves with their skins. The rocks prove this, and, although there is not room here to tell you how, yet when you study geology you will understand it and learn a great many other interesting things. But these fossils, as they are called, which are found in the rocks, are not really more interesting than the rocks themselves. For every rock, stone or pebble on the earth has been made to undergo some wonderful changes. Every lump of coal was once part of a tree in an ancient forest. AU limestone has been fonqed from shells by . the ocean which broke and ground them up until they became dust, which was afterward hardened to stone. Many beautiful churches and dwellings are partly built of a sort of stone which was once nothing but sand. Other kinds < rock were formerly clay. Some owe their origin to living things, such, for instance, as coral, which is made by a little insect. And a very large number were made to take their present form by great fires inside the earth, which melted older rocks, changing them to marble, i granite, etc., and sometimes pouring i themjout through the craters of volcanoes i in the form of lava. These changes which have been taking place ever since the foundation of . the world have often given the rocks . very strange shapes and peculiar aspects. I very often they look just aa if they had I been put together by men, and ignorant • people have often believed that such was I the case. The “Giant’s Causeway* on the coast of Ireland, looks, like the beginning of a great bridge ! made of stone columns, extending lout into the tea, and many of ths people

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NUMBER 18.

in the neighborhood still believe it was made by a race of giants who intended ■ making a bridge or causeway all the way across to Scotland. On the shore of the island of Staffs, near the coast of Scotland, there is a great cavern which some people supposed to have been the palace of an ancient Scottish chieftain named Fingal, and so it has been named “ Fingal's Cave." Many other strange formations of rocks, which look like very large buildings, have been found in our own country and in other parts of the world. And they really are buildings, too, but not such as are made by the hands of men. The Great Creator made them in carrying out the Wonderful plan which causes the universe to be governed. And even if the study of geology—by means of which we may understand all these *' stories of the rocks”—were not useful in any other way, it would be of great benefit to us by helping us to see and feel the wisdom and power of Him who has made and now preserves the world in which we live.—lT. W. Crane, in Hearthand Homo. Maggie’s Troubles. The first real spring day had come and Maggie felt as happy as a bird. Every, body was unusually pleasant at breakfast, as everybody is apt to be on the first clear morning after several days of rain. The older folks went .to drive, leaving Maggie and her cousin in the back parlor, each busy in her own way. The sound of a carriage made them run to the window in time to see two ladies on the step. “Oh, dear! dear! Mrs. Delaney and her * daughter are at the door,” exclaimed Maggie, putting the chairs straight and pushing her scraps into the closet. “ There, all is in beautiful order," she cried. “ Except that closet," said her cousin, as out tumbled a work-basket, storybook, pair of stockings and even an old calico apron. “ Nobody will see them," said Maggie, pushing them in, pell-mell, and turn, ing the key. By this time the ladies were in the room. After a short chat Mrs. Delaney spoke of wishing to see an old family portrait that hung in Maggie’s . room. Maggie’s heart beat quick at this, for she remembered that in her haste to get to a pleasant piece of work she had left her room in disorder. She excused Emily and herself a moment, so that the two ran up-stairs to arrange things. Maggie threw her clothes into her wardrobe, big trunk, and under her bed, till really there was no telling Where anything could be found when wanted. “There!” she cried, looking pleased, “we have done wonders; Mrs. Delaney will see all neat." Emily said nothing, only pitied Maggie because she would have such a hard time to find her things. “ Your room is in perfect order,!’ said Mrs. Delaney approvingly. Maggie looked pleased; but Emily thought, “ What would she think if she could look into those closets?” When the visit was over, Maggie couldn't _ find her patches. • ■ “ You put them in that closet,’’ said Emily. After some trouble Maggie found them, but they were covered with ink. She remembered that she had left the ink in the closet, instead of returning It to its place on the study table. That was the end of the patch 1.. Next, she couldn't tell where she had put her worsted work; well, she would finish a certain story-book; but no, it couldn’t be Wound. Finally she asked Emily to take a walk. Now the trouble was to get her hat and shawl out of the confused mass. The hat was ruined, and the shawl too much tumbled to wear that day.— Childte World. _____________ Red Clover as a Renovator of the Soil. Hon. Frederick Watts, Commissioner of Agriculture, writes in the “ Monthly Report for February and March": “ Many examples are given of the renovation of worn and apparently worthless soils and the increase of fertility in fresh but unpromising lands. Fields that have been cultivated exhaustively for twenty and even forty years have been restored to original productiveness, not by guanos and superphosphates at . sixty dollars to eighty dollars per ton, but by inexpensive local resources, the cheapest and most reliable of which is found in clovering. In one case in Butler County, Pa., a section of thin, gravelly land, on which it was thought no one could secure a decent living, came into the possession of German immigrants at , nominal rates. They cleared off the brush, plowed, cultivated, turned under green crops; saved every fertilizing material available; never duplicated a crop in five or six'years’ rotation, and that tract is now a garden, and from w-orth-lessness has advanced to the value of SIOO per acre, and is yearly becoming more productive. These owners, in some cases, have raised and educated families, lived comfortably, ride in their carriages and have money at interest. In other instances in which the use of clover has been invoked, swine-feeding in the clover fields has been valuable means of soil improvement. In the South, a region which many Northern writers on agriculture assume most er- ( roneously to be unsuited to grass culture, and which Southern farmers have strangely neglected as a meat-producing section for obvious reasons, a new era is dawning, and clover and orchard grass are in many places found to be sources of immediate and heavy profit and of greatly-increased fertility.” If there’s anything that commends the ordinary tramp to one’s sympathy it’s "his invariable modesty. One rapped at a kitchen door near Springfield, Maes., recently, and mildly asked if there was any cider in the house. The lady gave him a drink, and he then remarked that < some cake “ wouldn’t go bad at all." • This also being furnished he called for a ’ couple of cigars, and getting them, too, 1 lit one, put the other in his pocket and • walked off, picking up sapowmUanew E pair of woolen stockings that happened ' to be in his reach. ( a..— — • ' i economical Connecticut girl re. ! fused to be married by the of [ son owed her two dollars for knitting I stockings, and ym wo poor w pay cash,