StK&K CURIOUS EPITAPHS.
0 A UKl'MMEB.
Tom Clark was a drummer, who went to the war.
And was killed by a bullet, and hlB soul sent for :
Thera were no friends to mourn him, for his vir
tues were rare.
Tie died Like a aann, like a Christian bear.
A BARB SPECIMEN.
My wifey ha loft me, hho gone up on b i k h .
She was thoBuhtf ul while dying, and said
1 Tota
aoni cry,
Kbe was a pret beauty, so every one knows.
With Hebe-! ke features aud fine Uon.au nose ;
fine played the piany, and was learning a ballad.
When she sickened aud die-did from eating veal
BIGBTI.T NAMTD-
Down in this chasm lies a poor sinful critter,
Her name was Poll Twist, and that name it just at
her;
For In twisting her neck to swallow some toddy.
She twisted her breath right out of her body.
H-r bloated remains we hid under the sod,
But her rum-setted soul none could hide from its
Clod.
A HARPIST.
Mary Homers was with us but twenty short years;
Hue departed'this life 'mid a torrent of tears ;
She was a fine musician, and played well on the
harp
So thought the angels who floated by in the dark ;
They wanted a harpist to join their good band.
So seized her and flew to a far better laud.
AS ONLY CHILD,
Our departed little Sally
rost her strength and could not rally.
She pined away, both night and uay,
. And kicked the mortal coil away.
ttjLNsrrrvF. to the last.
Aramartnta Taylor (how do we regret her?:
Departed this me lor a state much better ;
She was gentle and lovely and not over bold.
But her age is a thing that remains untold.
She grew younger and younger as years passed
away,
Then a cypher became, wien nought went to de
cay, The poor foolish creature, hating to grow old.
Has me now, praise God, where years are un
told ;
And there may she revl. a venerable sage.
With no one to bother her by asking her age.
DEATH OF A CHILI).
It was spotted measles that killed our Daisy:
When I fh ol her death it makes me go crazy ;
1 don't see why we should have so much trouole.
While others go scot free " and of money have
double.
FEUITFCt. BC&TECT.
As death was sauntering idly by,
lie spied the apple of myfeye ;
With cruel aim and no delay.
In her heart's core he put decay.
And, like the fruit upon the tree.
She dropped down dead in spite of me.
To celebrate her fall this day,
1 raise a stone to Mary Grey.
A FATAL BLOW.
This is the place where rests Timothy Morse,
Who slid out of life through a kick from a horse ;
No four-legged beast caused this dreadful disaster,
But a two-legged cuss kicked the life from his mas
ter. THfi B3TBCLY MT..MBFB.
In the sacred spot my wife does lie.
She quit this world and went on high :
Her tongue wagged so fast for thirty long years,
That she died from exhaustion, while I dropped a
tear.
ON A PATRIOT.
Here lies a a soldier, under this atone.
Stop, passer bjy, aud heave a groan ;
Oroan, did I say ? No, hurrah, for he u happy, I
ween.
Singing Hail Columbia, Yankee Doodle, and God
nave the uueen.
In this land of glory, where he has become by this
ume a cherubim. Amen.
A OCKTBT SCHOOL TEACHER.
In this grave lios Mary Edwards, a pretty school
Barak
Who coaxed and flattered all the beaux, but never
aid tnem narm :
She was graceful, evanescent, but she faded like the
dew.
And her age (excuse me for telling it) was just
ionv-two.
ON A PBL'KKARD.
John Graft' is dead, his corpse Lies below.
But where his aoui is. of course we don't know.
There were two paths to take which he chose is
tne ruD,
One led to glory, the other to Beelzebub.
His disease was slioug drins ; as this settled the
matter.
It settled poor John, too we guess with the latter
KXI.I.KD BY A HORSE.
Absalom Charles Timothy Jones
Once was alive, but now here are his bones ;
He was thrown from his horse against an old post.
And was so badly smashed that he gave up the
ghost.
A SLANDERER.
Here lies an old dame with a dangerous tongue.
She slandered all her neighbors and really thought
it fun ;
She got so angry one day when in a slanderous fit,
That a blood vessel burst and the biter got bit.
fhis epitaph was written by her victims in the
town.
And this heavy granite stone was laid to keep her
body down.
FOOD FOB WORMS.
And now, dear friends, you'll see him not,
For here he lies in this grave to rot.
A FBBCOCIOCS CHILD.
Alas ! why should I cry to-day
For one who could no longer stay ?
My darling little Hannah !
This child could read, and write and spell.
Could say her " tables " very welt.
And play her ma's piana.
God bless my Utile Hannah !
Who plays now on Heaven's piana.
OLD PEANUT'S THANKSGIVING.
" Hey ! Old Peanuts ! How much a
pint?"
" Twelve cents," answered the old
man who presided at the stand.
"But look here," said the ragged
little questioner, " couldn't you let 'em
go for ten cents, seein' as I want to keep
Thanksgivin and haven't any more than
this."
He held up a torn ten-cent stamp.
" That's no good," said the old man.
" The gover'ment don't take torn ones. "
" There is quite a piece off it," said
the boy, looking wistfully at the piles
of peanuts, " but you could pass it. It
was passed on me."
The old man shook his head. "Torn
ones don't go," he answered.
" Gosh ! That's so," said the boy.
"I've tried it in tliree places. Can't
keep Thanksgivin', I s'pose. Wish I
war yon."
" Do you?" asked the old man, smil
ing faintly. "But I am not keeping
Thanksgiving either.
" I would, if I war you," said the boy,
I'd eat a whole quart."
" You wouldn't, if you had no teeth
to eat 'em with," answered the old pea
nut seller, " and didn t like em. Once
I cared for peanuts ; but that's long
aero.
What do von keer for now ?" oxkad
the boy. " How do you like to keep
Thanksgiving r
" I shouldn't care to keep it at all,"
said the old man. I used to keen it :
bnt one day is like another now, and
that is best lor me. i nave nothing to
be thankful for now-a-days, and I don't
want to think of the old times."
' ' How were the old times ?" asked the
other leaning against the lamp-post
close by. . . ...
What'd be the use of telling you,"
grumbled the old man. You couldn't
help me nobody could that I know of. "
Yet he went on as if it relieved him to
tell his troubles even to the small ragged
boy beside him.
" My boy John went out West, and
wai scalped by the Injuns. I knew how
it'd be. I wanted him to stay on the
old farm with me : it was in Pennsvl
vanv but it was a small place, and half
stones, and mortgaged for nearly all it
was worth at that ; so he would go to
make his fortune, as he said. His wife
that he left behind him till he cleared
his claim fit for her to live on why, in
less'ti a veax after he was dead, she
married again, and they took John's
bov with 'em to New York. That s the
last I heard of little Johnny.
" But didn't you come to New York
. . . i 1
to look after him?'' askea me uoj.
" Yes," answered the old man, " of
course I did, or I wouldn't be on this
sAllincr peanuts
to-day. She promised to write, but she
never did, so at last I couldn't stand it
any longer, and I sold the old place and
came to New York. I got partial track
of 'em two or three times, but at last I
had to give it up. Then my money was
about gone, and I set up this stand and
have sold peanuts ever since that's five
years. No, there's no Thanksgiving
tor me unless x nua .lonnny ; ana i
never shall."
"Mebbe yon will," said the boy.
" Things tarn up sometimes when yon
nint a-lookin' fer 'em, like this ten-cent
stamp. I didn't set any hopes on keep
in' Thanksgivin' ; but a man says to me,
as I was a-standin' in Fulton Market,
Would you carry this turkey as far as
the Third avenue cars?' So I did. j
But as sure as siv name is J ohnny i
Mooney I was cheated after all, unless
von take it."
"Isvouruame Johnny?" asked the
old man. " Well, then, you shall keep
Thanksgiving for me, for your uitrne."
He poured a pint of peanuts in
Johnny's hat. The hoy held out the
torn stamp.
" No, no," said the old man, " throw
it in rim crritrer. I mitfht pass it on
somebody that'd go hungry on account
of it. I don't want to be wicked, if I
can't be thankful."
" Then here she goes," said Johnny,
tossing the stamp into the gutter, "aud
thank vou. Old Peanuts. But what
makes the bovs all call you 4 Old Pea
nuts ?' " he added, cracking a nut be
tween his teeth ; " or mebbe it's your
name?"
" It's as good a name as any other."
said the old man. " I haven't seemed
to myself to be John Dorrling since that
happened. o I d rattier be called uid
Peanuts."
Johnny went down Chatham street
crunching his peanuts ana hopping in
glee, and Old I'eanuts leaneu ais
wrinkled cheeks in his hands and
sighed.
" Mav be worse things 11 come upon
me by my unthankfulness," he said to
himself ;'" but I can't be thansful.
But worse could not come. If I had
only died long ago !"
Presentlv another small boy stopped
in front of him ragged, shoeless and
hatless, but with a clean, jolly-looking
face.
Five cents' worth of peanuts,
he
said bnsklv.
Old Peanuts poured the peanuts into
the boy's pocket, which he held open to
receive them.
" Here's a ten," said the boy.
" A torn one again !" said the old
man. it looks tike tne very same one
offered me just now. Where d you get
it?"
" Out of the gutter down the street,"
said the bov.
" It must have gone floating down,"
said Old Peanuts. "Well, they say a I
bad penny always turns up again."
" Give me five, quick," said the boy.
"I want to buy some taffy with the
rest."
" Going to keep Thanksgiving, too, I
s'pose," said the old man, " though I'd
like to know what vou can be thankful
for."
"Lots," said the boy. " Fnstly, for
this luck. I don't pick np ten-cent
stamps every day."
" Well, and what else ?" asked Old
Peanuts.
" Cause I'm going to get a splendid
dinner. But I must give my hair
a-pullin' out, or they won't let me in,"
he said, laughing and trying to dis
entangle the mass of brown hair oh his
head.
" Who won't let ou in?" asked Old
Peanuts.
"Why, the Mission," answered the
boy. ' ' And it's most time to be there. "
The stamp isn't Rood, said Old
Peanuts, handing it back to the boy.
" Whv, ves.it is, said tne boy.
" It's only dirty."
lint it s torn, said uid reanuts.
" I told a bov just now to fling into the
gutter. "
tie must be a tunnv bov to lung
stamps away," said the boy, laughing.
"JSo, said Old I'eanuts; "not so
funny as yon think ; he only went in
for being fair. But I gave him a pint
of peanuts because his name was
Johnny."
" Then you ought to give me a pint,"
said the bov, laughing again, " for my
name's Johnny, too."
' ' Don t stand there laughing at me
and telling lies !" said the old man, im
patiently. " Taint lies, answered the boy.
Mv name is Johnnv. There ! I can
prove it." He drew a small thin card
out of his j acket-pocket and held it up.
" Kead that, he said, triumphantly.
it was a card of admission to tne
Mission-House dinner. The old man
snatched it and read " John Dorfling."
" You !" he said. His hands shook
so that tlie card slipped out ot tnem.
Just then there came a gust of wind
and away went the card and the boy
after it. The old man tried to call him
back, but he was too much agitated to
speak. He shook in every limb, bnt he
started after the boy, running as fast as
he could. But the boy ran twice as
fast, and he disappeared around a cor
ner. Then tho old man raised a feeble
cry, "Johnny ! Johnny! Stop, Johnny!"
He turned the corner, breathless, but
the boy was no longer in sight. On
went the old man, looking right and
left, peering in the open doorways aud
gazing wildly aown the cross-streets.
But suddenly he thought, ' How silly
I am ! He has found his ticket aud
gone to the Mission dinner." So, with
renewed hope, he turned his steps tow
ard the Mission.
He explained his errand to the door
keeper, and was ushered into a large
room where two hundred or more boys
and girls sat at long tables laughing
and talking merrily and devouring good
things. Up and down the passages Old
Peanuts walked, gazing at every brown-
haired boy ; bnt be did not see Johnny.
Then the children were appealed to.
Silence was called for and the question
asked, " Is John Dorfling hei e, or does
any one here know him ?" Bnt all the
children shook their heads. The super
intendent then searched the books and
found the name "John Dorfling," he
said, "bnt no address. He probably
did not know it. Many of the children
cannot tell where they live."
But I suppose he will come in
again next Sunday," said Old Peanuts.
The superintendent shook his head.
" It is doubtful, " he said. You see
a great many come m a week or two
before Thanksgiving, because we give
them all a good dinner. JBut only those
who have been with us three months
have tickets to the Christmas festival.
Yet he may come next Sunday again.
Drop in and see," he added, unwilling
to send the old man away withent any
hope.
"Ah! if I had only staid at my
stand," Old Peanuts thought, as he
hurried along to the Chatham street
corner. "He has ten cents and the
peanuts, too, bnt if he is like the father
he will come back." So he went to his
stand, vaguely expecting to find his
grandson there. Bnt the other Johnny
stood beside the stand instead.
" Yon ought not to leave your stand
'thout anvbody to look after it,'.' he
said. "A lot of fellers war agoin' to
make off with vour peanuts, bnt 1 hap
pened up and hollered ' Perlice 1' and
they thought I owned the concern
and took to their heels. The perlice
didn't come, but I kept guard and sold
five pints, too. And there war a boy
here as said he owed you five cents,
and"
" Where is he ?" cried the old man.
"Why he left the five and he went
away," 'said the boy. " I don't know
which way ; I warn't looking."
"It was Johnny," said the old
man, wringing his hands. " Now I
shall never see him again." In a choked
voice he told the story.
" Don't take on," said the boy. " Ef
I'd a-knowed it I'd held onter him.
Next time I will. I'll know him
again."
"Ah!" said Old Peanuts, tears roll
ing down his cheeks, "I thought I
couldn't have more trouble ; but to find
him only to lose him again, it is more
t'uan I can bear. But he is a good,
honest boy I knew he was."
" I'll look for him," said the boy. " I
v as agoing to the Central Park to see
the animals ; but never mind ; and it's
ar. awful ways to walk, so I don't keer
much. And here's for the five pints. "
" No ; keep it for taking care of my
staud," said Old Peanuts.
" No," said the boy. "The peanuts
you gave me paid for that. I ain't
mean. Good-by. Don't fret. Mebbe
I'll fetch him along afore yon know it."
The old man sat down "by his stand,
but he could not rest.
"I'll look for him, too," he said.
" Ah ! if 1 could only find him I would
keep Thanksgiving. If God would only
help me : but I have been so unthank
ful to Him I have no right to ex
pect it."
He locked np his stand and went
down toward the City Hall, then up
isroadway ana across c;anai street, then
down to Chatham street again, and
through the dirty cross-streets and
lanes up and down up and down.
until his feet were so tired that thev
slipped under him. At last when night
came he went back to his stand, un
locked it and sat down on his stool
But he was worn out ; and as he leaned
his head against the pine-boards his
eves closed, boon he was m dream
land. He was keeping Thanksgiving
with his wife and his son and little
Johnny. They were all at the village
church, singing hymns, and then again
at the old farmhouse, eating their
Thanksgiving dinner. Little Johnny
climbed on his knees and kissed him,
and then pulled his hair in tun
" Don't puli so hard, Johnny," he
said. And then he opened his eyes,
" Yes, I must pull, if you don't wake
up," said a voice. "We tried ticklin'
and everything. You sleep so sound."
Old Peanuts opened his eyes widely
and rubbed them, but still he was
afraid he was asleep, for the two John
nies stood beside him.
" Went to Central
Park after all,"
said the first Johnny,
looking at the animals,
I would."
" and found him
Thought mebbe
"Are you my grandpap?" asked
Johnny number two. " If yon are, I'm
glad, though you made me lose my
dinner.
The old man drew the bov to him and
held him closely in his arms, as if he
were afraid he would lose him again.
"And your mother?" he asked,
" v ill she let me have you?
"She died," answered the boy;
"died long ago him, too ; and I take
care of myself helping a junk man
" And hereafter grandpap will take
care of yon," the old man said
" Thank God, I have found you, and
now we will eat our Thanksgiving din
ner.
So, hand in hand, the three walked
up the Bowery, and down a side street,
to Old Peanuts' lodgings. He bought
a cooked turkey and other good things
on his way there, and at the door he
stopped to ask a neighbor or two to
" come np and help them to be merry
What a happy, blessed day they had,
after all ! How they talked and
laughed, and how Old Peanuts leaned
back in his chair and almost cried with
joy when Johnny sang a pretty song
for them that he had learned at ragged-
scnooi
For the first time in years, John
Dorfling, when he sat down to the ta
ble, bowed his head in penitence and
grateful prayer. But his thanksgiving
did not end with that day, nor for many
a a a v.
In fact, he is hale and hearty yet.
This very year he and Johnny hope to
keep "Thanksgiving" with the other
Johnny ; and after dinner they all are
going to ride in the horse-cars to the
park to see the animals. St. Nicholas,
A. T. Stewart's Great Mistake.
It is now understood that Alex. T,
Stewart has altogether relinquished the
idea of devoting the great iron building
in Fourth avenue, begun several years
ago, and long under roof, to its original
purpose oi a working-women s home.
He is said to have discovered the plan
to be impracticable, fer working-women
would not enter it under such restnc
tions as are necessary. He tried to in
duce the women in his retail establish
ment to agree to go there, when the
building should be completed, and they
flatly refused. He is reported to feel
bitterly disappointed at the result, be
cause the home was a benevolent scheme
he had long cherished. The building.
with the real estate, has cost him half a
million dollars. Nothing has been
done on it for months, the cause being
mysterious, since everybody knows
Stewart has abundance of money to go
on with the work, if so inclined. He is
now at a loss what use to put the
structure to. He thinks of finishing it
and renting it as a hotel, bnt the loca
tion is not favorable. The stories are
unfounded that he had abandoned the
undertaking for the reason that it
would not pay him as well as he had
thought. His intention was to charge
only a nominal price to the women
just enough to preserve their feeling of
independence. As the home was the
only benevolent scheme Mr. Stewart has
ever embarked in, its failure is consid
ered particularly unfortunate. New
York Telegram.
Value of Farm Products per Acre.
The last volume of the agricultural
report which has been so long delayed
has just been printed at the government
printing omce. The following table
shows the average cash value of farm
products per acre in this country, ac
cording to the report of the statistician
of the department :
Average
value per
States. acre.
Maine $14 16
New Hampshire. . . 19 GO
Vermont 17 87
Massachusetts 31 10
Rhode Island 34 00
Connecticut 33 94
New York 22 94
New Jersey 27 96
Pennsylvania 20 80
Delaware 13 24
Maryland 15 22
Virginia. 14 15
North Carolina 11 38
flouth Carolina 10 45
Georgia 11 68
Average
value per
State. acre.
rexan 2 84
Arkansas 17 60
Tennessee 12 70
West Virginia 15 04
Kentucky 15 54
Ohio 14 67
Michigan 15 65
Indiana 13 51
Illinois..: 11 13
Wisconsin 14 28
Minnesota 11 83
Iowa 8 49
Missouri 11 99
Kansas 8 92
Nebraska.... 7 75
California 16 12
Oregon 16 70
Nevada 44 30
Florida 11 47
Alabama 13 77
Mississippi 15 61
j Louisiana 16 57
The Territories .... 26 17
DESTRUCTION OF FORESTS.
Some
Rather Startling Facts and
Figures.
The constant and reckless destruc
tion of our forests is fast bringing us to
a condition in which there will be oc
casion for real alarm. It is not proba
ble that any "scare like that which a
few vears ago went over England con
cerning the prospective exhaustion of
her coal supply, will immediately oc
cur in America, touching the loss of our
forests, but we wisn something near
enough approaching it might happen
to stop awork that is full of evil prom
ise.
In the whole United States there is
left bnt one really great tract of timber.
It lies at the far extreme of our country,
and consists of about one-half of Wash
ington Territory and a third of Oregon.
California has, perhaps, 500,000 acres
of forest now, of which fully one-half
has been cut away within the last two
or three years. Here in New York we
have no considerable iorest ieit except
in the Adirondack region. Our wealth
of maple, walnut, and hickory is sub
stantially gone, and a large part ol it
has been wantonly destroyed. Wiscon
sin had a magnificent forest growth, but
the people" are sweeping it away at a
rapid rate. One bimon ieet oi timber
were cut in a single year. It will not
take more than a decade or two at the
utmost to fairly exhaust this source of
wealth to the State. Michigan and
Minnesota are following in the same
course, slashing away at their forests as
if a tree had no right to lift its head.
One of our most intelligent army offi
cers, Cien. linsbin, who knowa the
Western country thoroughly, and to
whose accurate knowledge of this sub
ject we are indebted for many facts,
says that 50,000 acres of Wisconsin
timber are cut annually to supply the
Kansas and Nebraska markets alone.
The Saginaw forests are even now prac
tically destroyed, ana n tne northern
Pacific railway is built, it will open up
to the ax the one remaining belt of
American timber, in Oregon and Wash
ington Territory.
The railroads have been the great
destroyers of our forests. They use
1C0, 000, 000 of ties annually that
means the leveling of at least 150,000
acres of trees. The timber they use.
also, is not the refuse or the inferior,
but among the very beat fine young
trees, eight to ten inches in diameter.
The Union Pacific Company undertook
at nrst to lay their road with cotton-
wood ties, drawn from the occasional
wooded canyons along the line of the
road. One consequence of this was
shown in our Washington dispatch, the
other day, regarding the legislation to
be asked of Congress for the relief of
the road. The Government Commis
sion appointed to examine the line re
ported that it was not completed within
the terms of the law. The use of these
soft wood ties was held by them to be
an evasion of contract, and government
patents for the lands granted along two
or three hundred miles of the road have
accordingly been refused. The settlers
who have bought the lands can get no
titles from the company, for it has none.
This looks bad for our forests, since it
means the ultimate destruction of
thousands of acres of more good timber
to replace the condemned ties, which
have already swept off a large part of
the few precious growths ol this com
paratively treeless region. If it is re
membered that ties have to be renewed
every seven years, the extent of the de
mand on our forests will be appreciated.
When 10,000 miles more of rails have
been laid, it will require all the young
trees in the country to supply the de
mand for ties.
Fences are also enormous consumers
of trees. In the East we are learning
in this regard economy from necessity,
but in the West, in some States, the
farmers cut down the f oi ests with scarce
ly more thought than they harvest their
gram. The fences of the united states,
people may not generally know, have
cost more than the lands, and are, to
day, the most valuable class of prop
erty, save railroads aud real estate in
cities. Hlinois alone has 82,000,000
invested in fences, and they cost an
nually 175,000 for repairs. In Ne
braska, where excellent herd laws are
in force, the necessity for fences has
been so much lessened that the fences
of the State cost less in proportion to
population than in any other in the
Union.
The outrageous waste of timber
caused by the felling of forests and the
burning of the trees to bring the land
under cultivation still goes on at a fear
ful rate. From 1860 to 1870 no less
than 12,000,000 acres of forest were thus
wantonly destroyed. For fuel also vast
tracts are leveled of their trees. It took
10,000 acres of forest to supply Chicago
with fuel one year, 1871. An annual
decrease of forest from all these causes
is not far from 8,000,000 acrBS. Yet we
plant only 10,000 acres of new forest a
year.
The necessity for a commission of
forestry, and the need of efficient laws
in all the States for the preservation of
forests, need no further argument than
these facts. New York Times.
Migratory Fishes.
It was formerly supposed that certain
fish, as the herring, the shad and the
alewives. with others of like habits,
prosecuted an extensive migration along
the shores of the ocean, covering some
times thousands of miles in the sweep
of their travels ; and much eloquent
writing has been expended by such au
thors as Pennant and others in defining
the starting-point and terminus, as well
as the intermediate stages of the voy
age. The shad, too, which, as is well
known, occupies all the rivers of the
Atlantic coast from Florida to the Gulf
of St. Lawrence, was thought to begin
its course in the West Indies, and in an
immense body, which, going northward,
sent a detachment to occupy each fresh
water stream as it was reached, the last
remnant of the band finally passing up
the St. Lawrence, and there closing the
course. We now, however, have much
reason to think that, in the case of the
herring, tLe shad, the alewife and the
salmon, the ionrnev is simply from the
muths of the rivers by the nearest deep
gully or through to the outer sea, and
that the appearance of the fish in the
months of the rivers along the coast at
successive intervals, from early spring
in the South to midsummer in the
North, is simply due to their taking up
their line of march at successive epochs,
from the open sea to the river they had
left during a previous season, induced
by the stimulus of the definite tempera
ture, which, of course, would be succes
sively attained at later and later dates,
as the distance northward increased.
Some of the regular Boldiers sent
West have married squaws, and are
doing their best to civilize the poor
ignorant redskins. As soon as a squaw
gets a pair of army boots and a brass
chain en, she begins to act refined and
lady-like.
Friendship, like iron, is fragile if
hammered too thin.
All Sorts.
Nearly 1,000 convicts in the Califor
nia State Prison.
That persons should remain seated in
church until the service is over is a
standing rule.
Pennsylvania has 7,000,000,000 feet
of hemlock timber, and 4,000,000,000
feet of hard wood.
What enormous legs firemen must
have, as we often hear of their using
hose fifty feet in length.
A ami, baby was recently born in
Scott county, Ky., having the features
of a person 80 years old.
There have been one thousand suici
des in Paris during the last six months.
Two-thirds of them were of women.
The new elevator of the Wabash
Company in Toledo, the largest in the
world, holds 1,200,000 bushels of grain.
There is a big gold bar on the coun
ter of a Denver bank, weighing 1,346
ounces, and valued, in cein, at
$52,694.94.
Sunday contributions in the churches
have fallen off in amount since the issue
of ten-cent currency resembling in ap
pearance the fifty-cent bills.
Squashes, three of them, weighing
1151, 137, and 1391 pounds, respective
ly, have been raised this year by James
Arnold of Oimsted county, Minnesota.
As if the Smiths were not sufficiently
numerous, four of them, all boys, have
put in a simultaneous appearance in a
Terre Haute family. The lot weighed
thirty pounds.
A short-horn steer was butchered in
Detroit recently which weighed 4,110
pounds alive, and yielded 3,000 pounds
of dressed beef. This is believed to be
the largest animal ever slaughtered for
beef on this continent.
A French paper says that not one
American in a hundred has a handsome
chin. This is due to the fact that so
many of onr fellow-citizens give nearly
all their time to the cultivation of
cheek.
The Jardin d'Acclimatation, Paris,
has just received two running oxen from
the Island of Ceylon. They are of di
minutive size, not larger than a very
small donkey, but are of great utility in
that country. The mail .service is per
formed by them. They are active, and
bear great fatigue, and can travel a very
considerable distance at a regular,
rapid pace.
Postmasters' Salaries.
L. D, Ingersoll writes from Washing
ton to the New York Tribune : There
are three classes of Postmasters by
Executive appointment, whose salaries
vary from 81,000 to 86,000 annually.
The total number of these in the States
and Territories is 1,567. The amount
of the salaries in the different cases
varies in the most unaccountable and
fantastic manner. In some cases it is,
as I believe, too low, but in most alto
gether too high, so that a graduation of
pay, made on some principles of com
mon sense, business wisdom, and fair
play, would result in a handsome meas
ure of economy. As an illustration ot
the haphazard manner m which these
salaries are arranged, let me give a few
examples from my own State, Illinois.
The Postmaster at Chicago receives SJ4,
000 a year. In point of business trans
acted, this is the secoad Postoffice in the
United States. The population of the
city is about 450,000. As is well known,
it is the commercial center of the in
terior, with railroads going everywhere.
The Postmaster has to give bonds in an
immense sum of money. But the Post
master in Bloomington, a little city of
20,000 people, also has a salary of
84,000. So does the Postmaster at
Aurora, which is a mere suburb of Chi
cago, and has a population of only
about 12,000.
The following table illustrates the
grotesque unfairness of some of the
salaries :
Population
(1870).
:St5,099
12,GSt-2
117,714
12,42.1
2.9U2
Poitoffire.
Brooklyn, N. Y.
Salary.
(4,000
4,000
4,000
4.000
1,300
2,100
4,000
4,000
4,000
4,000
4,01)0
4,000
3,900
3,500
1.500
4,000
4,000
liinebamtou, N.
. Y..
nuffalo, N. Y
Locbport. N. Y
FiBhkill-on-the-Hndson, N. Y.
Cazenovia, N. Y .. 1,71H
Philadelphia, Pa 064,022
Titnsville, Pa H,6a9
WilkeBbarre, Pa 10,174
Boston, Mann 230,526
Pawtncket, R. 1 0,G1
Austin, Ten 4,488
Taunton, Mass 18,629
Dantmry, Uonn. (town) 8,752
Merlden, Conn 10,495
St. Lcuis, Mo 310,864
St. Joseph, Mo 19,565
Dry, Indeed!
An honest old farmer from the coun
try gave his recollections of the hot
spell aa follows : "It was so dry we
couldn't spare water to put in our
whisky. The grass was so dry that
every time the wind blew it flew around
like so much ashes. There wasn't a
tear shed at a funeral for a month. The
sun dried up all the cattle, and burned
off the hair till they looked like Mexi
can dogs, and the sheep all looked like
poodle puppies, they shrank up so.
We had to soak our hogs to make 'cm
hold swill, and if any cattle were killed
in the morning they d be dried beef at
dark. The woods dried up so that the
farmers chopped seasoned timber all
through August, and there ain't a match
through all the country in fact, no
wedding since the widow Glenn mar
ried old Baker three months ago. What
few grasshoppers are left are the skin
and legs, and I didn't hear the teakettle
sing for six weeks. We eat our potatoes
baked, they being all ready, and we
couldn't spare water to boil 'em. All
the red-headed girls were afraid to stir
out of the house in daylight. Why, we
had to haul water all summer to keep
the ferry running, and say, it's getting
dry ; let s take Buthm . -r -JXxcnange.
Cure for the Bite of Poisonous Ser
pents.
According to Mericonrt. in a com
munication before the Academy of
Medicine, in Paris, the only effective
means of counteracting the bite of
poisonous serpents, and which should
be generally and popularly known, are
those which prevent the absorption
of the poison immediately after the
bite, namely, ligature above the part
bitten, suction, lotions, cauterization
bv means of a white hot needle, or of
small heap ol gunpowder placed on tne
wound and ignited, or the application
- . . , ,
of some coagulating caustic. U these
means have been neglected, or have
been applied tardily and ineffectually,
hot alcoholic drinks should be given
gradually and in a methodical manner,
so that sweating and the elimination of
the fluids by the kidneys may be in
duced as freely as possible. The action
of the new sudorific, " Jaborandi,"
may be tried. If, in consequence of
violent vomiting, the introduction of
medicine by the stomach be prevented,
and any confidence be still retained by
the practitioner in the use of ammonia,
he may practice its injection, as it is at
least harmless.
Fashions in Furs.
Those most used for decoration are
the Silver Fox, Chinchilla, Silver
Marten, black Arctic Lynx, and Alaska
Sable. Sea Otter and Russian and
Hudson Bay Sable will be used for re
ally elegant garmrnts, and for opera
wear garments will be trimmed with
Royal Ermine.
The sets most in favor this season are
Mink, Seal, Lynx, Black Marten and
Otter. Mink will again take the lead,
as it has been thoroughly tested, and
found to be perfectly reliable, and
really there is nothing handsomer than
a dark set of Mink. We can purchase
sets of Mink at all prices from $25 to
$75. ; those at the latter price being
very handsome. The medium sets cost
835, 840, 845 and 850. Real Alaska Seal
sets cost 826, 833, 838 and 845. while
the finest quality of Shetland Seal is
from $18 to $60. Boas are from 60 to
84 inches long. There are very good
imitation Seal sets at from 87 to $12.
The Lynx sets, with black, flowing
fur, can be bought for 824 and $27, the
best ; while the imitation sets, which
are very good, cost from 87 to $15.
The Arctic Lynx, a really handsome
fur, is only $15.
The Black Marten, in natural color,
comes cheaper, the sets being only $14,
$18, $22 and $25. imitation sets are
only $6, $8, and $10.
Otter sets are pretty, and cost from
$30 to $50 ; while very handsome sets f
beavers are $22, $27, and $32.
The Russian and Hudson Bay sables
are decidedly elegant furs, and can be
worn only by those who can afford such
expensive sets. Hudson Bay sets are
sold for from $85 to $2C0 ; while the
Russian sable sets range in price from
8300 to $1,500.
Many ladies prefer the fancy furs.
such as the silver-fox, greibe, and chin
j chilla. Silver-fox sets range in price
! from $100 to $300, and are in great de
! mand. Chinchilla also is fashionable,
: and sets of it can be bought for from
1 $20 to 100. Greibe sets cost from $25
to $40.
j The novelty of the season is a boa
; and muff combined, which consists of a
I boa the usual length, with pocket on
j each end in which to place the hands
! when necessary or desirable. It is
certainly more convenient than the
j muff, for there is no danger of losing
j this affair, as ladies often do their
! muffs, by carelessly leaving them upon
i counters of stores. This article will be
manufactured in all the different grades
of fur, and can be bought at any and all
prices from $8 to $100. A very neat
specimen in mink the dark shade
was exhibited. The price was $25.'
New York Weekly.
Fight with a Cougar.
A letter from Fort Griffin, Texas,
gives the following account of a little
episode in frontier life :
' On the bank of the Clear Fork of
the Brazos river, John Selman and fam
ily were sitting in their little cabin, en
joying the comforts of a brilliant fire,
when their dog set up a fierce barking.
Mr. Hewitt, who lives with Mr. Sel
man, walked out to see what was the
matter, and discovered a large cougar.
Air. H. stepped back to get a gun, leav
ing the door open, intending to return
in a moment. But their morning visit
or did not choose to wait for his return,
and followed immediately into the
house. The first introduction the in
truder gave himself was to leap upon a
little child, taking hold of its neck with
his monster teeth, inflicting some very
serious wounds. Mrs. Selman, the
mother of the child, grabbed it and re
leased it. The animal then made an
attempt to recapture the child from the
mother, and Mr. Hewitt, who is gifted
with uncommon size and unusual
strength, knocked the monster down
and kicked it under the bed. Mr. Sel
man had sot hold of a gun by that time,
and. as the coutrar came from under the
bed. shot it. the ball entering the left
side of its neck, ranging back and com
ine out through the abdomen. But
that only infuriated him more than
ever. He then leaned upon the bed,
tearing the bed and bedding. The
door had got closed during the fracas,
and the wild animal having become
dissatisfied with his little prison, like
a lion in a catre. leaned from side to
side of the room, upsetting the chairs,
table, and other furniture, at the same
time uttering the most terrific screams
imaginable. At last Mr. Selman got
another gun, and shot it tnrougn
behind the shoulders. It then jumped
at the fire, arrabbed its mouth full of
live coals, and stood there and growled
until Mr. Selman opened the door, and
Mr. Hewitt took it bv the tail and
ilrawHil it into the yard, where it died
It measured eleven leet nine incnes iu
length."
The Chicago and South Carolina Rail
road.
A trunk line to connect Charleston,
S. O.. with Chicaaro is now in process ol
construction, and the people of the
Palmetto and Prairie States will soon
be enabled to shake hands by rail. The
people along the proposed route have
assisted liberally, in the country east
and south of the Alleghanies $1,600,000
being subscribed. North of the Ohio
river, the States of Illinois, Indiana and
Ohio raised $4,000,000. South of the
Ohio and north of the Cumberland Gap.
$2,000,000 have been pledged.
On the southern end of the line, 73
miles are already under contract from
Charleston, and in the northern portion
contracts have been made for the grad
ing of 105 miles. The greater part of
this portion ib now ready for the iron,
and the company expect to have the
road completed to Indianapolis some
time next year.
The officers of the company consist of
a President and one Vice-President from
each of the States through which the
line passes. The Vice-Presidents will
exercise full control Over the local
traffic of the road in the State which
they represent, and are empowered to
make all necessary contracts. They are
also ex-officio Directors, and will hold
meetings to decide on all questions con
cerning the general interests of the
road. Each section is in a measure in
dependent and not responsible for the
debts contracted by any other section.
All watering of stock is prohibited, and
no section is allowed to lease any por
tion of its line to other roads. The
President of the company is Mr. W. S.
Haymond, of Indiana. The Vice-Presidents
are Robert Rae, for Illinois ; J.
H. Stewart, for Indiana ; Thos. L. Jones,
for Kentucky; and C. B. Memminger,
for South Carolina.
In the ordinary course of business
two telegrams were recently sent from
New York to London, and answers re
ceived to one in thirty, and to the other
in thirty-nve minutes actual time.
.bach message was transmitted 3,600
miles and passed through the hands of
eighteen persons. The message and
reply in each case passed through the
hands 01 thirty-six persons, and trav
eled oyer 7,000 miles in thirty to thirty-
The Jackson-Dickinson Duel.
A letter from Nashville, Temn., to tho
Chicago Inter-Ocean referring to the
famous duel between Jackson and Dick
inson, says ;
It was almost as notorious as tho
Burr-Hamilton affair at the time, bnt
few ef the facts have not been miscon
strued. A singular chain of circum
stances connected with the marriage ol
Jackson caused considerable scandal,
which followed him Jeven to the White
House, and was the one subject to
which his warmest friends dared not
allude. Jackson was fiercely jealous of
his wife's reputation. A breath of sus
picion against her, a suggestion of her
impurity, always caused eternal hatred
of those who uttered it. To suspecS
her was something that could not be
forgiven. With Dickinson he had a
long and bitter feud. Both were law
yers, and it was their fate to always
meet at the bar. Frequently their
mutual hatred found vent, and several
times challenges for duels passed be
tween them, which were always with
drawn through the influence of friends,
and a tacit reconciliation effected. But
one day Dickinson said something that
reflected upon the chastity of Jackson's
wife, and that was the unpardonable
sin. Jackson challenged him, regard
less of the remonstrances of friends.
The duel was a matter of public gossip.
Bets were made with large odds in la
vor of Dickinson, who was regarded as
the best shot in the State. The agree
ment was that after the word " fire'
was given each could nse nis own dis
cretion. Jackson was of cool, and Dick
inson of nervous temperament, and thc
former supposed the latter would shoot
at the word, preferring himself to run
his chances and tako a deliberate aim.
The supposition proved correct. Dick
inson fired instantly, the ball taking
effect in JackBon's side, a hair's breadtl.
from his heart. The dust puffed fron
a heavy woolen coat he wore ; the old
warrior staggered a moment, but re
covered himself, and without lifting his
pistol looked his antagonist w. the face
Dickinson was astounded at the un
wonted failure of his aim.
"G d d n yon," he shcuted, "I
thought I sent you to h 1."
Jackson, who had not yet cocked hie
pistol, raised it deliberately, aimed and.
pulled the trigger; but it did not fire.
He examined it as coolly as 1 it was the
merest matter in the world ; put on &
iresh cap, and shot Dickinson dead.
"When I found he had not killed',
me," said Jackson afterward, "I in
tended to give him his life ; but when
he cursed me I knew it was his hate
and not his honor he was fighting for. ' '
Jackson's wound was a very severt
one, and troubled him until the day oir
his death.
Punk in Pi.
Punkin pi iz the sass of Ntr
England. They are vittles and drinks ,
they are joy on the haffshell, they are
glory enuff for one day, and are good
kold or warmed np. I would like to be
a boy again, just for sixty mirmets, and
eat myself phull ov the blessed old
mixtsur. Enny man who don't luv
punkin pi, wonts watching cluss, for he
means to do somethm mean tne iust
good chance he kan get. Giv me all
the punkin pi i could eat, when i waz a
boy, and i didn't kar whether Sunday
skool kept that day or not. And now
that i have grown up to manhood, ani-i
have run for the legislature once, and
only got beat 856 votes, and am thoroly
marrid, thare aint nothin l hanker lor
wuss, and kan bury quicker, than two
thirds of a good old-fashioned puvnkin
pi, an inch and a haff thik, and Tvel
smelt up, with ginger and nutmeg,.
Punkin pi iz the oldest American bev
erage i kno ov, and ought to go down fee
posterity with the trade mark ov our
grandmothers on it ; but l am arrade it
won't for it iz tuff even now to rind one
that tastes in the mouth at all az they
did forty years ago. Josh Billings
Allminaxfor 1875.
Icelandic Women.
" I turned to inspect the crowd," say;.
Bayard Taylor, "and found, to my sur
prise, that the women were much more
picturesque figures than the men. Man 5
of them wore square bodices of some
dark color, a gown with many pleats
about the waist, with red or blue aprons..
Nearly all had a flat cap or, rather, a
circular piece of black cloth on the
top of the head, with along black tassci
on one side, hanging from a silver 01
gilded cylindrical ling, an inch or iwo
in length. These rings are precisely
like those which the women of Cairo
wear over the nose to hold the veil m
its place. Some of the girls had thai?
hair braided, but many wore it loose
and I saw one girl whose magnificent
pale yellow mane suggested a descent
from Byrnhilde. The men on ly showed
two colors the brown of their wadma?
coats and trowsers, and the ruddy tan
of their faces. Few of them are hand
some, and their faces are grave and un
demonstrative ; but they inspire confi
dence by the strength expressed in the
steady blue eye, and the firm set of tho
lips. There were plenty of tawny o.v
piebald ponies, with manes like lions-,
in the streets."
Imitative. k
The railroad from Yokahama to Yeddo
is the wonder of the Japanese peas
antry. The peculiar dress of the peo
ple shows their eagerness to adopt Euro
pean customs. Some of the combina
tions are rather curious, as for instance,
a Paris felt hat, a Japanese robe of silk,
woe den pattens, and a common bath
towel around the neck for a comforter.
Of the shops, on the handsome Tori, or
boulevard of Yeddo, with its double row
of pines and blossoming fruit trees, a
traveler says : " There are all kinds of
European or imitation European ar
ticles for sale ready-made Western
clothes ; clocks, which are sometimes
right and which are in great demand
just now ; .ttusiey shawls and Bru.seh
carpets, and drugs from England and
wines from France ; ancient suits of
armor and modern machinery ; de
throned Buddhist saints and sewing
machines."
A Field for Doctors.
Physicians crowd each other in thisv
country, and a young man finds it hard
get into practice. There is ample
room m ranee for beginners. There
are in that countrv nifeima of ir.nfit;
inhabitant which have not onp rli v sii-inn -
there are cities of 20.000 which have,
but one. and he not crrnrlnfo of
medical school. There is always posted
in the arcade of the Paris Medical
School the names of fifteen or twenty
towns or villages which have no phy
sicians and wish one. Lille is a city
with a population of 200,000 souls ; it
contains only forty-three physicians.
Roubaix is a city of 76,000 souls ; it com
tains only eight physicians.
Paris had a marriage the other day
of the Tom Thumb and Minnie Warren
class, but with more drollery in it. Tho
husband is a dwarf, thirty inches in
height, and the wife a giantess of six.
feet six.