IN PKNSIVK
BX AXJCK WTI.LIAMH.
" Oh UkereHi nothing balf so sweet in life
Aa love's young dream I"
I mused last ntent in pensive mood
Albeit not often sentimental
My heart was heavy and my frame
Was racked with aches both head and dental.
I say. as once I've said before.
My mood was somewhat sad and pensive.
I cast upon the Post a glance
Fond, lingering, and comprehensive.
I siw once more that mossy bank
By which the river ripples slowly,
0 ershadowed by the silvery veil
Cf willow branches drooping lowly,
B -strewn with wild spring flowerets dyed
In every color of the prism ;
Waere oft we sat. May Brown and I
2ior ever dreamed of rheumatism.
We loved. Ah, yeel Some might have loved
1 iu orv us, in their humdrum pasnion ;
But never yet the world had known
So wild, so dees, so pure a fashion !
We recked not of the heartless crowd,
"Nor heeded cruel parents' frowning ;
But lived u one long blissful dream,
And spouted Tennyson and Browning.
And when the cruel fates decreed
That for a season I must leave her,
It wrurg my very heart to see
How much our parting seamed to grieve her
One happy moment, too, her head
Reposed so lightly on my shoulder !
In dreams I live that scene again,
Aud in my arms again enfold her.
She sjave me one iong auburn curl,
She wore my picture in a locke;,
He letters, with blue ribbon tied,
I carried in my left coat-pocket.
Those notes, rose-scented and pink-hued.
Displayed more sentiment than knowledge.)
. I wrote about four times a week
That year I was away to College.
But oh, at length a change came o'er
The spirit of my dream One morning
1 got a chilly line from May,
Id which, without the slightest warniug.
She said she shortly meant to wed
Tom Barnes (a parson, fat and jolly);
She sent my notes and ruby ring,
And hoped I would M forget my folly."
I sent her ail her letters back,
I called bar false and fickle-hearted,
And swore I hailed with joy the hour
That saw me free. And so we parted.
I quoted liyron by the page,
I smoked Havana? by the dozens,
And then 1 went out West aud feM
In love with all my pretty cousins.
Scribner' far .Vtwnoer.
" SUMMER-LAND."
Tilt Sdt World According to Spiritual
ists. Summer-Land" is the name given
by the seer Davis to that bourne from
whence it -was popularly supposed be
fore the day of spirit-rapping no trav
eler returned. In other words, it is the
heaven of the Spiritualists who believe
in Mr. Davis teachings. Before going
into a description of the Summer-Land,
Mr. Davis' statement of the manner in
which the spirit quits the earthly tene
ment by the process called death will
be entertaining :
HEATH SO-CALLED.
Suppose a human being to
b lying
in the death-bed before you.
present not seeing anything
Persons
of "the
neautuui processes of the
interior "
are grief-stricken and weeping. The
departing one, it may be supposed, is a
beloved member of the family. But
there in the corner of the room of sor
row stands one (the seer) who sees
through the outward phenomena pre
sented by the dying one. To the out
ward senses the feet are there, the head
on the pillow, and the hands clasped,
outstretched, or crossed over the breast.
" If the person is dying under or upon
cotton there are signs of agony, the
head and body changing from side to
side. Never allow any soul to pass out
of the physical body through the agony
of cotton or feathers either beneath or
in folds about the sufferer." The per
son is dying, and we will suppose that
is a rapid death. The feet grow cold.
The clairvoyant sees directly above the
head what may be oalled the magnetic
halo, "an ethereal emanation, in appear
ance golden, and throbbing as though
conscious." The body is now cold up
to the knees and elbows, and the em
anation has ascended higher in the air.
The legs are cold to the hips and the
arms to the shoulders, and the emana
tion, though it has not arisen higher in
the room, is more expanded. Now the
death-coldness steals over the breast,
and around on either side, and the em
anation has attained a higher position
nearer the oeiling. The person has
ceased to breathe, the pulse is still, and
the emanation is elongated and fash
ioned in the outline of the human form.
Beneath it is connected the brain. The
golden emanation is connected with the
brain by a very fine life-thread. Now
the body of the emanation ascends.
Then appears something white and
shining, like a human head ; next, in a
few moments, a faint outline of the face
divine, then the fair neck and beautiful
shoulders ; then in a rapid succession
come all parts of the new body down to
the feet, "a bright, shining image, a
little smaller than this physical body,
but a perfect reproduction in all except
disfigurements." The fine life-thread
continues attached to the old brain.
The next thing is the withdrawal of the
electrio principle. When this thread
snaps the spiritual body is free and pre
pared to accompany its guardians to
Summer-Land "Yes, there is the
spiritual body ; it is sown in dishonor
and raised in brightness."
THE SP-BIT JOURNEY.
The newly arisen spiritual body
moves off toward a thread of magnetic
light whioh has penetrated the room.
The spiritual being is asleep, just like a
new-born, happy babe; the eyes are
closed, and there seems to be no con
sciousc ess of existence. It is an uncon
scious slumber. In many cases this
sleep is long, in others not at all.
The love-thread now draws the new-
horn bodv to the outside door. A
" thomrht-shaf t " descends upon one
who is busy about the body. "This
person is impressed to open the door of
the awemng nun ioto " ij- d
moments. Or some other egress is
nnpnwl and the spiritual body is silent
ly removed from the house." Celestial
attraction draws it obliquely through
tha fnriw.fiTfi miles of air. It is but
rounded bv a beautiful assemblage of
tr. . it rr. inn friends. They throw
1 r.-tff n cr orms around the sleeping one,
and on they all speed to the world of
Light. When the time approaches for
fv, snii-it'n awokenme. then celestial
music, or some gentle manipulation, or
melodv of distant
streams, or something like breathing
ma,l over the sleeping one,
-una, sensation to return, and thus the
newcomer is introduced to the Summer
Land."
too tacittai nv MTMMBB-IiAND.
s,.i tm Afr Andrew Jackson Davis'
picture of the change called death, it
would certainly be a very pleasant thing
to believe, if he could onng auj vm
thoti hid visions to prove it,
nnrl it -nrnnlfl rnh t,l last hour of all its
terrors. Now. having taken the spirit
into its new abode, it is next in order to
ascm-fain what that abode is. In an
swering the inquiries which will natur
ally arise under this head, we are op
aA Vw a communication
from the late Theodore Parker, which
appears in a Boston spiritual paper.
Being asked where is the spiritual world
be replies that it is " About sixty-five
billions of miles from the planet earth.
It is a spiritual planet, revolving on its
1 MUSJU LIST KIGHT
MOOD.
own axis, around its own spiritual sun,
and in its own spiritual solar system,
and is subject to laws just as perfect as
the laws governing in the physical solar
system that come within the range of
human sense ; and yet, wherever a spirit
can exist, there, in degree, is a spirit
world, but not the spiritual planet
proper of this material earth."
SPRING GARDEN CITY.
Mr. Parker also says that he lives in
Springlarden City. Spirit is but sub
limated matter, and matter, after all ;
therefore it requires a given time for
that body of matter, or spirit, to pass
from one point to another. The time
required depends very much upon the
strength or will of the spirit, and upon
its knowledge of the elements through
which it has to pass ; of the universal
powers with which it has to deal. Some
spirits can pass through space more
quickly than others ; some find it ex
ceedingly difficult, because they do not
know how to take the best advantage of
the currents of magnetic and electrio
life that they meet with. " So, then,"
continues the disembodied Mr. Parker,
" if I say I can leave this place and be
at my own villa in Spring Garden
City in five secoRds of earth-time, you
are not to suppose that every other
spirit can do the same thing, only that
I can do it." These human wills, in the
spirit-world, are the fast or slow horses
that yon have to drive.
CELESTIAL SCENERY.
Mr. Davis says that the Summer
Land is vastly more beautiful than the
most beautiful landscape of earth. Ce
lestial waters are more limpid, the at
mosphere more soft and genial, the
streams arc always musical, and the fer
tile islands there are always full of
meanings. The trees are not exotics,
and the birds are literally a part of the
celestial clime, every one having its
lesson of divine significance. The
Summer-Laud is every way a world as
actual as this. It is a. comprehensive
sphere. Astronomically speaking the
earth is on one side of that vast galaxy
of suns and planets termed the "milky
way," and directly across this great
physical belt of stars we find the sub
lime repose of the Summer-Land, and
this is but the receptacle of the im
mortal inhabitants who ascend from
the different planets that belong to our
solar system. These planets all have
celestial rivers, which lead from them
toward the heavenly shores. The spirit
land has a firmament. It is filled with
stars, suns, and satellites. It rolls in
the blue immensity. The sky there is
not without its clouds. Thev chansre
very much like the clouds of our
tropics, yet they do not much resemble
them. The changes are like those in
the Southern skies, but the clouds
themselves are very different.
A SUMMER-LAND CITY.
In a volume containing communica
tions from distinguished personages in
the other world, sold at the Spiritual
ists' bookstores, there is an account of
the city of Spring Garden, before al
luded to, as the residence of the spirit
body of Theodore Parker. The late
Margaret Puller, Countess d Ossoli. is
the alleged authority for the statements
contained in this connection. Probablv
the description will answer for other
cities in the spirit world. Spring Gar
den contains between sixty thousand
and seventy thousand inhabitants, a
jority of whom are engaged in literary
and artistic pursuits. It is iust the
place where all good newspaper men
are likely to go when they shuffle off.
The streets are handsome, the pave
ments being covered with a brilliant
enamel, which is formed by dampening
certain yellow powder, which, when
hardened, shines like amber. They are
laid out in circles surrounding a large
park of several acres, which forms the
center of the city. This park is embel
lished with trees and flowering plants
of every description, and does not differ
materially from the extensive parks to
be found on earth, except in its manage
ment. Forming an outer circle to the
park is the main thoroughfare of the
city. The buildings are of a light,
graceful style of architecture, adapted
to the out-door life which the people
generally lead. The street facing the
park is devoted to the display of com
modities and creations ol the spirit
world and its inhabitants. Here beau
tiful fabrics, finer than the web of a
spider and ornamented with the most
exquisite floral designs taken from na
ture are exposed to view. There are,
however, no millinery establishments
in bpring Garden City, and the females
wear simply their own beautiful hair,
which they adorn, with flowers and a
peculiar lace "as thin as a breath."
There are many artists' studios in the
streets, and the art of painting is car
ried to greater perfection than it ever
has been on earth. The citv contains
many institutions of learning, which are
accessible to all.
MARRIAGE.
In the Summer-Land (we again quote
from the volumes just alluded to, and
not from A. J. Davis this time) the
unions of male and female occur from
very similar causes to those which bring
about like unions bn earth. The parties
are drawn to each other through the
operation of a natural law, and the re
sult is greater happiness than is usually
found on earth in these relations. Mar
riage in the spirit land is not an indis
soluble bond. Some minds associate
together in harmony and expand in the
same direction, and with these the
union is permanent. There are others
whose states and conditions after awhile
become changed Such seek new com
panions, and this is permitted without
discredit to the individuals. Many forms
of marriage ceremonies are extant in
the different societies and countries.
Garlands of flowers and symphonies of
divine music are bestowed upon the
bride and bridegroom. From these
spiritual marriages are born soul at
tributes sic. Human beings are never
generated. They need what is known
as the material world for their nurture
and growth.
PARSON POHICK'S PERIL.
The Rev. Abiram Pohick was a de
vout man and zealous circuit-rider, but
in worldly matters notably absent
minded. So much so that if his wife,
who was a noticing woman, hadn't kept
a keen lookout when he rose in the
morning, ten to one he would have ap
peared in public, half the time, arrayed
in her habiliments instead of his own-
an exchange which some would have
scoffingly declared not inappropriate.
His head once set on a text, he was
oblivious of all else. To find his way
round the ciruit, he trusted implicitly
to Old Job s geographical Knowledge
Old Job was the parson's horse. He
was not an old horse, either, but a likely
animal in the prime of lif e. It was his
gravity and patience, mayhap, that
earned him the sobriauet of "Old Job,
He was a horse of sense, withal, and,
to a congregation that understood
Houyhnhnm, could probably have
preached a more practical sermon than
his master.
A portion of Parson Pohick's field of
labor lay in a wild, out-of-the-way
region ; and it was on his first journey
to keep an appointment there that he
met with the adventure we are about to
relate.
After a wearisome day's travel, Old
Job and the parson sought and found
rest one night at a settler's cabin. At
a later hour another wayfarer arrived ;
and, after a hearty supper, and af socia
ble chat, the two guests, who 'were to
take an early start in the morning, re
tired to rest, both being assigned to
one apartment.
Mr. Pohick, his devotions ended,
would gladly have conversed a little
with his fellow-guest, but the latter was
disinclined to talk ; and the parson,
from falling into a revery on his forth
coming sermon, in due time fell sound
asleep.
Me awoke at daybreak, out iounu nis
companion had already gone.
Having a long road yet beiore him,
the parson rose at once, and having
made his toilet, and performed his
morning duties with all proper dispatch,
he left the house without disturbing the
family having paid his scot the night
before and finding his way to the
stable, he saddled his horse and rode
off, intending to breakfast further on.
It was a fresh, bright morning ; and,
as the parson rode along, he sought to
improve the time by more fully working
up the details of the discourse where
with he was preparing to enlighten a
people hitherto groping in darkness.
" Get along, Job," said the parson,
at the end of a mental paragraph ; "I
never knew you lag so before. "
But the horse seemed absorbed in his
own reflections, and paid no heed.
Inattention to his master's words was
an unusual thing in Old Job, and might
have attracted the parson's notice ; but
just then he began subdividing his
" Ninetcenthly," and the horse might
have stopped stock still for all his rider
would have known.
The clattering of hoofs, and the cry
of " Stop thief!" behind him, at length
broke the parson's chain of thought.
"Stop, you old villain, or we'll blow
you through !" yelled several voices, ac
companying the command with divers
expletives which greatly shocked the
parson's ears.
Parson Pohick had no suspicion that
such words could possibly be addressed
to him ; but the reproof of profanity
was a duty he never neglected. So,
turning about, he quoted several texts
on the subject, and would have enlarged
upon them edifyingly but for the deri
sive shouts of the company in whose
midst he quickly found himself.
"Ha! ha !" laughed one ; "jest hear
the old rascal !"
" Satan reprovin' sin !" added an
other. " Whose boss is that ?" queried a
third.
" Whose horse ?" echoed the parson
" whose is what horse ?"
" Why, that 'ere you're mounted on."
' ' This t Why, this is my horse Old
Job," answered the parson, more and
more surprised.
" Your horse !" exclaimed a burly fel
low. " You say that agin, an' I'll mash
your mug. That's my hoss as was stole,
an' you stole 'im, an' his name's not
Job; it's Pete."
The horse whinnied at the name, as
if turning State's evidence against his
rider.
" Git down, you old reprobate !" the
burly man continued. "Why, I've
owned that hoss ever sence he was
foalded, an' there's plenty here ken
prove it."
" That's so !" chimed in several.
" Git down ! git down ! you tarnal old
thief I"
A dozen revolvers were leveled at
him, and the parson felt constrained to
dismount.
" I assure you, gentlemen, the horse
is mine," he protested earnestly, "and
being a minister of the gospel, my word
should have some weight."
" Minister ef the haw ! haw !"
The man who tried to repeat the
words broke down with laughter.
" A pretty minister you are!" jeered
another, who, searching the parson's
person, drew a pack of cards from one
pocket and an empty whisky bottle from
another.
Mr. Pohick was dumbfounded.
"There is some terrible mistake
here !" was all he could utter.
"What say you, gentlemen? is the
pris'ner guilty or not guilty ?" sang out
the leader of the crowd.
" Guilty !" they all said.
With equal unanimity it was voted to
hang him on the spot !
My friends, before taking a fellow
creature's life," pleaded the parson.
you should have clear and certain
proof."
' roof ! what proof would you
have?" replied the leader. "Wasn't
the hoss found on you or vou on the
hoss which is the same thing in law ?
Come, string 'im up, boys !"
And the poor parson would surely
have ended his worldly career then and
there but for the timely arrival of an
other party.
in their midst was a man in clerical
garb none other than Mr. Pohick's
companion of the preceding night se
curely bound on a horse.
The new company was headed bv a
Deputy Sheriff well acquainted with
Mr. Pohick.
" Glad to see you, Mr. Pohick," said
the officer ; " but, bless me, I hardly
knew you in that rig !"
The parson s eyes, for the first time.
fell on his garments. They were cer
tainly not his own. Nothing could be
more unclerical than their cot and ma
terial. The cards and whisky bottle
were now accounted for : and when Old
Job, on whose back the other prisoner
was tied, greeted his master with his
old familiar neigh, the whole truth
flashed on the parson's mind. The man
with whom be had shared his room the
night before was a horse-thief, who,
rising first in the morning, had not
only taken the parson's clothes for a
disguise, leaving his own, but had taken
Old Job, who was far the better horse.
instead of the one he had recently stolen
the parson, in his absent-mindedness,
never noticing the difference.
The thief was one well known to the
officers, who had been for some time on
his track ; and when the Sheriff" s depu
ty, who knew Old Job as well as hi
master, saw the former and the clothes
of the latter in the possession of a noted
outlaw, he feared at first that murder as
well as theft had been committed and
murder would have been committed but
for his arrival in the nick of time.
" Let it teach you to keep your eyes
open next time," was all the consolation
the parson got irom Mrs. jfoiuck on
reaching home and telling her how near
he had come to being hanged A c iv
York Liedger.
While .Northern woolen-mills are
stopped, those of Georgia are increasing
the number of looms and reaping dm
dends. Columbus has 35,000 spindles,
60 woolen and 879 cotton looms, all
built in less than seven years by a oily
which lost 60,000 bales of cotton, worth
fifteen million dollars, and millions of
other property.
All Sorts.
Olive Logan is deaf.
Bismarck is a great fox-hunter.
The Astors own 1,500 houses in New
York city.
There are thirty-eight Roman Catho
lic churches in Brooklyn.
Cooper's "Bee-Hunter" chewed to
bacco, and he lived to be 103.
The Jews say that Judaism is de
clining, and they ought to know.
Milwaukee's census shows a popu
lation of 94,405, an increase of 22,955
since 1870.
Two Atlanta professors, who recent
ly tried a mule steak, pronounce it finer
than real beef.
The hair of a lady in Montpelier, Vt. ,
turned white in a single night. She
fell into a flour barrel.
Gov. Furnas, of Nehama county,
Neb., raised 5,000 bushels of peaches
in his orchard this year.
The first daily journal in the world
was that o Frankfort-on-the-Main, es
tablished in 1615. It is still issued.
"As I never pay my own debts it
isn't likely I shall pay hers." This is
the frank way a Tacoma manadvertises
his errant wife.
The Northumberland House, in Lon
don, was bought for the purpose of
opening a new street. The price paid
was $2,489,500.
A new salt-basin has been discovered
in Saginaw Valley, Mich., which is
deemed inexhaustible. The brine is
obtained at a depth of 1,764 feet.
Yeddo has eighteen newspapers,
among others the " Nischinshinjishi,"
the " Tokionichinichi Schimbum," and
the " Chinbansashi.''
Honor and glory to E. F. Phillips,
of Michigan, who has written 5,115
words on a postal card ! These would
make about three columns of closely
printed matter iu a large newspaper. A
great man Phillips is !
"The Son of Man" advertises in a
Cincinnati paper that the world will
come to an end on the 4th of July,
1876. The sooner, therefore, this hope
ful son of a gun gets out of " sin, sin,"
and into another State, the better.
The Austrian Polar expedition, which
has declared to the world the inadvisa
bility of attempting to explore the far
north or discover an open sea, would
seem to have been composed it explor
ers competent to judge. From recent
and more detailed reports, it is shown
that the expedition last spring did reach
the most northerly point ever trod by
the feet of men, 82 degrees 50 minutes
north la' itude. Here they raised their
native flag and gazed away to the north
as far as the eye and glass could reach
over a dreary waste of perpetual ice,
Austria will send one more party ovei
the same ground.
One of the most pathetic reminders
of the recent Fall Biver disaster is the
habit of a woman whose three daughters
were killed, but who still insanely be
lieves that they are alive. Every day,
when the factory bells are ringing for
dinner, the woman, who saw her three
daughters borne away to be buried,
that Sunday, takes a tin-pail, as she
used to do, and starts for Granite Mill
No. 1. Sometimes her neighbors divert
her attention by telling her that it isn't
bell time, but other days she walks to
the place where the mill once stood,
sees nothing that she can recognize,
turns back in a dazed way, and goes to
her deserted home again.
A Matrimonial Sensation.
A sincrular storv comes to us from
Westmoreland, and I feel that no injus
tice will be done the parties by giving
the facts as they have thus far occur
red. There are two residents of that
town (whom we will consider Jones
and Smith), whose land " joins." Jones
is a farmer and has a daughter who
will be sixteen years of age in a few
weeks. His neighbor Smith (who is in
the employ of the Borne, Watertown and
Ogdensburg Kailroad Company) has
among his children a boy who will be
sixteen years of age next January, and
to whom it was his intention to give a
trade and educate till he should attain
his majority. Last April Mr. Smith
indentured his son to farmer Jones for
a period of six or seven months, and at
the expiration of that time the boy was
to go to school. An attachment sprang
up between the young people, and a few
days ago young Smith asked his father's
consent to the union, saying that Farm
er Jones favored it. Smith called on
Jones a few days subsequently, who de
nied giving his consent to the matrimo
nial arrangement, and told Smith in
straight English that his son had lied.
After Smith left the house, Jones is
said to have told young Smith that his
father proposed locking him up the
next morning. What particularly fol
lowed is not known, save that these two
children were packed off to the church
in Lowell and legally married, young
Smith wearing a suit of clothes belong
ing to Jones oldest bov. As soon as
Mr. Smith was informed of the mar
riage he saw his boy and made tnis
proposition : To stay at the home of
Farmer Jones three nights in the week,
and at his (Smith's) the remaining four
nights, which would insure going to
school and a trade, as a start down the
matrimonial stream. Up to yesterday.
young tsmith had not reported, anu
"All s quiet along the lines. corres
pondence Utica Herald,
The Sczaroch.
The Russians, it is said, have adopted
a new shell which, from its formidable
character, according to recent experi
ments, is attracting much attention on
the part of military authorities, xne
following description of the new pro
jectile is going the rounds of the scien
tific press. It is well known that the
ordinary elongated bolt will not permit
of a ricochet fire, and as this species
of firing is very effective against masses
of troops, the loss is a matter of con
siderable moment. The sczaroch, as
the new projectile is called, is either a
percussion or a time shell, combined
with a shot. The latter ricochets
beyond the point of explosion of
the bursting charge. The shell por
tion is a simple iron cylinder, to one
end of which is secured by a thin sheet
of lead a spherical shot. On leaving
the gun the combined projectile acts
like an ordinary elongated shell, but as
soon as the explosion of the charge
takes place the cylinder flies to pieces,
while the shot, impelled with the addi
tional velocity ricochets for hundreds of
feet ahead. In firing at batteries it is
claimed that the double effect of this
projectile comes into excellent use, as
the shell might be exploded among the
guns, while the ball would strike far in
the rear among the reserves ; or while
the shell might burst in the front rank
of an advancing column, the ball would
continue its course through several sue
oeeding columns.
Trials of a Ticket-Seller.
" Ticket to Ne Yark," said Pat, the
other day. at the Providence railroad
station.
" By the Shore Line ? " inquired the
ticket clerk, who always wants to be
certain with this class of customers.
" Shure line ? Faix I do, and mighty
shure too, for I want to see me brother
Dennis in Worcester, shure, an the
way."
"That's not the Shore Line. Yon
want to go to the station on Albany
street."
" Divil a bit do I want to go to any
station. Faix, I was in a station all
night for givin' an omadahn a black eye
that was blackguardin' me, jist."
"You don't understand The Shore
Line don't go to Worcester."
" Augh, bother that ! Me brother
towld me the train was always shure to
go to Worcester, and I want the shure
train."
" No, no !" said the clerk, laughing.
" This train does not run to Worcester,
this is the Shore S-h-o-r-e L-i-n-e
on shore. You understand what com
ing on shore is, don't you ? "
"Coming ashore, is it? An' is it
laughin' ye are bekase ye think I'm
just ashore, and I a votin' more than a
dozen times wid the byes of the owld
sixth since I set me fut in Ameriky? "
" I tell you this train does not run to
Worcester."
" Don't it ? Beoad, perhaps it walks
there thin, for I've heard av things
be in' slow and shure."
"If you want to go to New York by
way of Wore "
" I don't want to go any by way, avic ;
it's the shure way, 1 towld ye and stop
at Worcester. "
"This road don't stop at Worcester,
I tell you ; it goes to New York."
"An' Worcester is bet wane Boston
an' New Yark?"
" Yes, but not on this road"
" Augh ! go away wid ye ! Give me
me ticket, and let me go. Faix, I'll
stop if the road don't."
" There's a ticket for New York," said
the clerk, " but you can't stop at Wor
cester with it, mind that."
" Shure I do," said Pat, passing over
his currency. "Faix, I've no desire to
shtop at Worcester wid it. Shure, I'll
leave it wid some gentleman in the car
till I return,"
The case was hopeless, and the ticket-seller
was obliged to let Pat go, but
could not help but smile at the task the
conductor had in prospect.
"Blazer" Finds a Faradlse.
We have, says the Virginia (Nev.)
Enterprise, in this town, a genius
known as "Blazer," who is " never at
peace except when at war." He would
leave his dinner any day if he thought
he could find a fight. When he is un
able to find a muss he is perfectly
wretched. A week without a battle,
and he begins to think there is nothing
in the world worth living for. Although
he seldom wins more than one fight in
ten, it is all the same to him. He
rather enjoys a good pummeling. A
night or two since some friends of his,
who happened to be passing through
the " Barbary coast region of the
town, had their attention attracted to a
shebang near at hand by a tremendous
uproar. There was a smashing of
glass, a crashing of chairs, bottles, and
tumblers ; fierce yells, bitter curses,
and, in short, a fearful commotion.
Thinking one of the voices within had a
familiar sound, the gentlemen looked in
at the door of the gin-mill, and there
beheld Blazer surrounded by about
half a dozen " coast rangers," who were
giving it to him " straight from the
shoulder " on all sides. Blazer's nose
was flattened ; one eye boasted a watch
fob ; his upper lip was laid open by a
blow from a tumbler, and his clothes
were nearly torn from his back. A
clip under the eye sent him "to grass,"
while those nearest him began jumping
upon him and kicking him iu the ribs.
His friends at once rushed to his res
cue. The breath was completely
knocked and kicked out of poor
Blazer, and he lay stretched upon the
floor. Some water dashed in his face
revived him. Recognizing his friends, he
smiled as amiably as was possible with
his bloated and distorted upper lip, and
huskily whispered :
"Boys, it's gorgeous ! I've stumbled
into a regular paradise 1"
Banbnry Bailey in England.
A dog show was the principal feature
to-day, and I am extravagantly fond of
dogs. The afternoon I came into the
city I found two mastiffs in the depot.
In the confusion I thought they were
two freight cars that had by some in
scrutable means got off the track. I
was glad to find they were dogs. The
larger of the two was called the cham
pion of England, and added other
laurels by carrying off the prize at the
show. This was the largest dog I ever
saw ; it was the largest dog any two
people ever saw. I thought at first I
would buy him, but partly hesitated on
learning the price $1,000 and com
pletely gave up the idea before I saw
him out of the depot. He was secured
by a chain in the hands of an attendant,
a man who appeared to be in a chronic
state of perspiration and protestation.
And he was an erratic dog. He made
violent and entirely unexpected dashes
at various objects or openings, and
wherever he went the perspiring and
protesting individual was sure to go. He
snapped him oft his feet every other
minute, and in the intervals hauled
him over square-cornered trunks, bump
ed him against other people with lug
gage in their hands, or shoved him
over highly indignant but utterly help
less little boys, whose unrestrained cu
riosity had led them too close to the
performance. The last I saw of the
keeper (?) he was passing through the
door in charge of the mastiff, a boy
was running after with his hat, and peo
ple on the sidewalk were appropriating
eievaiea places wim spotless alacrity.
Manchester JLetter.
Velocity of Thought
The velocity of thought is commonly
regarded as unsurpassed in nature.
1 . m . . m "
notion which is well illustrated by the
phrase quick as thought, so fre
quently used to express the utmost con
ceivable rapidity of action. But Mr,
George F. Rodwell, in an extremely
suggestive paper on the perception of
the invisible, lately printed in Macmil
lan's Magazine, points out that "quick
as thought" is not nearly bo " quick as
lightning ; for while, according to Sir
Charles Wheatstone, a flash of light
ning lasts only the one thousandth part
of a second, tne experiments of Jjon
ders snow mai 11 rases auout one
twenty-sixth part of a second to think.
We believe, however, that the expert
mefats made by Prof. Ogden N. Rood.
of Columbia College, New York, dur
ing a thunder-storm in August. 1870.
showed that the duration of the flashes
of lightning then seen was twice
great as ir unaues wneaistone s re
suit or, in round numbers, the five
hundredth part of a second
Lost in a Wisconsin Pinery
J. L. Robinson, train-boy ou the
Wisconsin Central railroad, conceived
the novel idea of hunting partridges
with a revolver, and in order to give
shape to his thought, left the upward
bound train at Mill Creek Station, fif
teen miles northwest of Stevens Point,
Wis., on Friday, Oct. 9. It was his in
tention to return ou the first incoming
car, which was due one hour from the
pinery. Alas for human purpose and
expectation ! A few rods from the sta
tion and he was as thoroughly bewil
dered as though a hundred miles inter
vened between him and civilization.
His hunt for game proved fruitless, as
well as his effort to retrace his steps.
The young man wandered about in the
woods for four days, and when found
was half famished. Scores of people
turned out to hunt for the wanderer,
and the excitement attending the search
is described as intense. When Robin
son first realized that he was lost he
wrote and attached to a twig the follow
ing note :
" I am Ist in the woods and can't find 1117
wav out. J. Jj. Robinson.
" Oct. 9."
After sleeping on the ground during
Friday night he moved on and dropped
the following in his path :
"I am lost in the woods ; if anybody will
show me oat I will give them $5. i am news
agent on the Wisconsin Central road. Keep
calling me ; if I hear I will come.
"J. It. RoisINSON.
" Oct. 10, Saturday."
At this time if he had taken a south
erly course it would have brought him
to the railroad track. Instead, how
ever, he went north, reaching the east
side of Bear creek, where he left an
other communication as follows :
"I am lost, and can't find my way out.
Look for me aud you shall have 100 reward.
"J. i. Robinson."
A little farther on he dropped his
handkerchief, which, together with the
former memorandums, aided largely in
the success of the search.
On Sunday he reached an old haying
camp, where he found several bushels
of potatoes and some salt. Here he
remained until Monday afternoon,
when he left the following, written on
an old tea-chest cover :
"Friends, I am lost. For God's sake look
for me. Iam starving to death ; can't find
anything to eat. Five hundred dollars to the
one that finds me and leads me out, of these
woods. I live in Menasha, Wis. My name
is Joseph L. Robinson. Carry the news to my
poor wife.
" I am going to leave here in the morning.
I go right straight throngh the woods. Please
hunt after me, and you will be well paid for
your trouble. May God have mercy on my
soul. Tell my wife my last words were about
her. Directions Mrs. M. V. Robinson, Me
nasha, Wis. I leave Tuesday about 9 o'clock.
"Five hundred dollars to any man that
finds me and leads me out of these woods, and
takes me home to my family. O God ! I am
starving to death by inches. Follow me,
won't yon. for God's sake? It is hard to give
up life. I haven't had anything to eat since
last Friday.
" If I am dead when you find me, take me
home.
" Joseph L. Robinson, Menasha, Wis."
On Tuesday he was observed near
this shanty, and on perceiving his
rescuers, he shouted, " I am lost, I am
lost, I am lost !" and then lying on the
ground and kicking with all his might,
he cried, " I am found, I am found, I
am found !" Robinson is now at home
with his friends, with a wholesome
horror of pistols and partridges.
The Eouniis Cure for Consumption.
A correspondent of the London Daily
News, writing from Samara, on the
Volga, says : "It has long been known
that the Tartar tribes inhabiting what
is generally known as Independent
Tartary (no longer, however, since Geu.
Kaufmauns visit, particularly inde
pendent), and nomad tribes scattered
over its northern frontiers, the Turko
mans and the Kirghis, as well as othei
tribes more or less akin to these,
such as the half-nomad Bashkirs of
Orenberg, all used . fermented mare s
milk, which they called Koumis, not
only as a beverage, but as a substantial
portion of their daily food It was re
ported to combine the nourishing prop
erties of milk with the invigorating
qualities of alcohol ; indeed, among its
other virtues, it was said to exhilarate
and intoxicate. It came into the heads
of some Russian medical men, of whom,
I believe, Dr. Portnikoff, of Samara, to
have been one of the first, that this
koumis might possibly possess medical
properties as well. It was observed
that consumption and its cognate dis
orders were unknown among the tribes
. 1 .j 3 - 1 ' ri 1 .
wno namtuauy aran Koumis. starting
from this observation, experiments were
made on the vilia corpora of consump
tive patients, and with highly beneficial
results. Upon this Dr. Portnikoff
started a koumis establishment at
Samara. Its situation offered him
many advantages. In the first place,
from its position on the Volga, it was
at least approachable, whereas Oren
berg, the nearest spot where koumis
could be said to be indigenous, was the
ultima thule of the civilized world.
This new establishment ou the Volga
was the means, therefore, of pushing
the koumis outposts 300 miles westward.
in the next place it . was observed that
the pasturage at Samara was similar to
that of Urenberg. It is supposed that
the virtue of koumis consists in a great
measure in the rich quality of the mare's
miiK, which again is dependent, not
only on the race of mares, but on the
pasturage on which they are fed. All
these are propositions which are more
or less vehemently affirmed and denied
by the different camps into which
koumis connoisseurs are divided."
Produce of the Earth.
Take the potato away from Ireland,
and starvation comes. Famine recent
ly had its hold ou Bengal on account of
a failure of the rice crop. Bread fruit
is to west India both food and clothing.
Heaven sends it and causes it to grow,
and the lazy natives ask nothing fur
ther. And yet all these yield to tne de
spised bamboo. We go fishing with
these poles : the Chinese eat them. The
uses to which it is put render it a na
tional benefactor. Houses, boats,
screens and water-wheeis are made of
it, together with fences, ropes, furni
ture, hats, umbrellas, and all varieties
of weapons, lamp-wicks, pencils, brush
es, pens, aqueducts, telescopes, and a
thousand other things of daily use.
We might almost say that were the
bamboo to perish suddenly from off the
earth the whole Chinese Empire would
collapse.
A singular and affecting trait is re
corded of the bison when young.
Whenever a cow bison falls by the hand
of the hunter, anp happens to have a
calf, the helpless creature, instead of
attempting to escape, stays by its fallen
dam, with many expressions of strong
affection. The mother being secured,
the hunter makes no attempt on the
oalf , because this is unnecessary, but pro
ceeds to cut up the carcass ; and thn,
laying it on his horse, he returns home,
followed by the young one, which thus
instinctively follows the remains of its
parent. A hunter once rode into the
town of Cincinnati, between the Miamis,
followed in this manner by three calves,
all of which had just lost their dams.
Naming Children.
A child has a right to his individu
ality, to be himself and no other; to
maintain against the world the divine
fact for which he stands. And before
this fact father, mother, instructor
should stand reverently ; seeking
rather to understand and interpret its
significance than to wrest it from its
original purpose. It is not necessarily
to be inscribed with the family name,
nor written over with the family tradi
tions. Nature delights in surprises,
and will not guarantee that the ehildrec
of her poets shall sing, nor that every.
Quaker baby shall take kindly to drab
color, or have an inoerent longing foar
a scoop-bonnet or a broad-brimmed
hat.
In the very naming of a child his in
dividuality should be recognized. He
should not be invested with the cast-off
cognomen of some dead ancestor of his
torical celebrity, a name musty as the
grave-clothes of the original wearer
dolefully redolent of old associations
a ghostly index finger forever pointing:
to the past. Let it be something fresh;
a new name standing for a new fact, the
suggestion of a history yet to be writ
ten, a prophecy to be fulfilled. The
ass was well enough clothed in his own
russet, but when he would put on the
skin of the lion every attribute became
contemptible. Commonplace people
slip easily through the world, but when
we find them heralded by great names
we resent the incongruity, and insist
upon making them less than they are.
George Washington selling peanuts,
Julius Caesar as a bootblack, and Virgil
a vender of old clothes, make but a
sorry figure. Leave to the dead kings
their purple and ermine, to the poets
their laurels, and to the heroes of th
earth sole possession of the names they
have rendered immortal.
Let the child have a nam;? that doe;
not mean too much at the outset, but
which he can fill with his individu
ality, and make by-and-by to stand foz
exactly the fact that he ie. Victor!'.
Magazine.
Sunlight for the Sick.
Dr. Wm. H. Hammond, in discussing
the sanitary influence of light, ob
serves that the effects of deficient light
upon the inmates of hospital wards atd
sick chambers have free neatly come
under his special notice ; that most
physicians know how carefully the
attendants upon the sick endeavor to -exclude
every ray of bght from the
apartment, and even some members ot
the profession are singularly assiduous
in this respect ; but -that the practice,
except in some cases of actual disorder
of the brain and other parts of the -nervous
system, is pernicious, admits .
of no question. During the late civil
war Dr. H. visited a camp and hospifcv.
in West Virginia, in onsequence of in
formation received that the sickness .
and mortality there prevailing were un
accountably great, and he made a
minute examination into all the cir
cumstances connected with the situa
tion of the camp, the food of the men,
etc. Among other peculiarities he
found the sick crowded into a small
room, from which the light was ex
cluded by blinds of India-rubber cloth.
The patients were as effectually
bleached as is celery by the earth being
heaped up around it ; pale, bloodless,
ghost-like looking forms, thwy seemed
to be scarcely mortal. Convalescence
was, under such circumstances, ac
cording to Dr. Hammond, almost im
possible, and his belief was that maxi-v
1 of the men had died, who, had they
been subjected to the operation of the
simplest laws of nature, would have
recovered.
An Earthquake Experience.
A lady correspondent of the Cleve
land Herald, writing from CaJlao, gives
as follows her first experience of an
earthquake shook: "Night before
last we were, having a very restless
night ; could not get to sleep. About
12 o'clock Belle awoke, her big eye
wide open, and a few moments after a
low, underground thunder came rolling
toward us. H. sprang ap and said.
' earthquake,' but there was no need of
being informed, for it was unmistaka
ble. I jumped from my bed and cried,
O, my God I ' By the time we were
fairly up, the house was coivuised with
tne demoniac snase. 1 iaa dux one
idea in my head ; it hod been told me a
few nights before to keep my slippers
always by the bedside. I had neglected
to do so, and in the frenzy of lright I
could only cry out, 1 Oh, where are my
slippers?' B., who lay in her little
bed quite composed, not appreciatiis.
the danger, told me just where they--were.
My hands were cold and clam
my, and I was truly beside myself. I
cannot describe an earthquake in n
manner that you could comprehend.
They are neither sublime rcr grand,
but terrible and demoniacal. This one
lasted about fifteen or sixteen seconds,
yet it aroused sensations that I did not
get over for twenty-four hours. All
night I was trying to realize that God
had anything to do with a terror so
horrible."
The Famine in Nebrjika.
Death from starvation, for the actu
al want of food, within eighteen hours'
travel of Chicago, and in the heart oi
the grain-growing region of the conn
try, is something that should attract
the attention of the public. Gen. Otdr
commanding the Department of the
Platte, and who is personally cognizant
of the facts, addressed the Board ot
Trade yesterday, telling in plain and
direct terms the sad story of the de
struction in Western Nebraska caused
by the ravages of the grasshoppers.
Prom the reports of his officers on the
ground and among these people, he has
reliable information as to the actual
condition of affairs. He states that
several cases of actual death oi
children have already token place.
Fathers have been compelled to aban
don their families and seek work and
food In one house the corpse of a
child was found that had perished for
want of food, and near it the mother
prostrate and dying from the same
cause. He states that iu Boone, Gree
ley, Sherman, HowarJ, Buffalo, anil aH
the counties fifty miles west of the Mis
souri river, two-thirds of the people are
destitute of all the necessaries of life.
They have neither clothing nor shoes ;
and food is impossible to get. Chicago
Tribune.
A Baptist missionary in India pro
poses that men and .women who go out
as missionaries shall enlist for ten
years only. He thinks by this plan the
missionary service would be xiore ef
fective, as many missions are ruined by
sick men hanging on, and by the reten
tion of men too old for hard service.
Furthermore, more persons would be
willing to serve as missionaries than on
the life plan.
Form times as many patents were is
sued in this country last year as were
granted in England during the same
time.