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.