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About The Albany register. (Albany, Or.) 1868-18?? | View Entire Issue (Jan. 1, 1875)
The Christmas Gift. BV X. D. BRINE. Around the Curustmaa tree we stood, . And watched the children's face. As they their little gift received With childish aim and graces. We grows folks had our share of fun In making vee ones merry. And laughed to see the juvenile Kiss 'neath the ' holly herry." Beside me sat sweet Bessie Moore. A lovely dark-eyed maiden. While near her Htood our little Eve. Her arms with love-gifts laden, Until around the room she went, The blue-vyed baby, shyly. And, blushing red, into each Ian Her offerings dropped slyly. But when to nit the d&rling came All empty-handed was she. And when I asked, " Why slight me thus : She answered. Oh, betause we We dlnna know you. turamhig here !" And then, with blue eyes shining, To sister's side she went, her arms Her sister's neck entwining. But sotiirthing I must have," said I. "My Christmas heart to gladen." A shade of tii'night the baby face Seemed presently to sadden. Till all at once, with gleeful laugh " Oh ! I know what I'll do. Sir ! I've only.sister Bessie left. But I'll div hrr to yon, Sir !" Amid the laugh that came from nil I drew my new gift to me. While with flushed cheeks her eyes met u And sent a tiiriil ill through me. "Oh! blessed little Eve !" cried I: " Your gift I welcome gladly !" The little one looked up at me, Half wonueringly, half (aiHy. Then to her father straight I turned. And humbly asked h:s blessing Upon my Christmas gift, the while My Im.'g-ntored hopes confessing. And as his aged hands were raised Above our heads, bowed lowly. The blessed time of Christmas ne'er Had seemed to me so holv. THE SAILOR'S RETURN. A t'urtimti iur . It w.is Christmas eve. For an hour or more I had been seated before the chimney-place gazing into the fire, in dulging in a retrospection. I am a bachelor. But - Christmas is not the only day I devote to dreaming; for I am one of thoseindividuala who live much in the past, and often, as twilight deepens into -darkness, I sit peering back into the hazy past, in fancy snatch ing again scenes pwhich bring to my vision a sweet childish face,, framed m j a profusion of yellow ringlets, a face that made an impression on my boyish heart, which time can never efface, That awoke within me the first wild thrills of love trne, indulging love. A face too heavenly for this world, so God called it away early. When I looked upon it for the last time before the coffin lid shut it forever from my view my young heart chilled within me, and I fervently prayed that I, too, might die. From the moment that heard the harsh earth thud upon the coffin that contained the form of my child love. 1 became something of a re- cluse. I had come to Cliffville on busi ness a few days previous to the opening Jf my story, intending to return on the following day; but before I had been in town two hours an old acquaintance of mine the gout took it upon him self to pay me a visit; I was obliged to forego all business and remain in my room in the Cliffville HoteL Christ mas eve found me much improved. But the prospect of spending the day at a village tavern, where I was a total stranger, did not present to me an un pleasant aspect, although a sense of ex treme loneliness stole over me, and the - silence and gloom of the room (for it was not quite dark) oppressed me put some wood upon the fast expiring ' coals and lighted up my lamp. I paced up and down the narrow room to keep warm. By degrees my thoughts drift ed into a strange channel, and suddenly, and for the first tune m my exist ence, I realized what a useless, selfish being I was that I had been looking at life through a detective glass. was simply Isaac Alderton, a moody old bachelor, with an intellect in no way superior to the average, but possessing a goodly stock oi this world s goods. which I had managed and used for the gratification of my own selfish whims and fancies, never for a- moment think ing' of the want and suffering around me. I would turn over a new leaf and date it Christmas eve, 1855. A. few moments later round me care fully picking my way over the slippery pavement 01 tne main street; 01 tne town, In the store-windows, which were illu minated as brightly as a plentiful array of oil-lamps and metal reflectors would permit, articles of every description were displayed m the most enticing manner. Groups of men, women, and children were collected before the most attractive windows, gazing admiringly at their alluring contents, while others hurried hither and thither laden with numerous packages, containing articles destined to make both young and old hearts bound with pleasure on the mor row. The jingle of bells, as the merry sleighing parties dashed over the crisp snow, the peals of laughter that reached my ear, and the happy smiling faces trial met my gaze at every turn, com bined to almost convince me that f care had been vanquished for a time,' and mirth and happinets had usurped its place. , I had been walking quite briskly for some moments, humminghalf aloud odd lines from old songs, having qui e for gotten my mission, when the distance between store-windows, and the infre- ?nency of street lamps, notified me that was approaching the suburbs of the town. Going back away, I had stopped op posite the show-window of a little con fection and toy-store. Before this win dow, looking with longing eyes at the wonders within, stood a little girl, thin y and poorly clad, and by her side holding a hand in his, an old man with a sorrowful, careworn face. " Oh ! grandpa, arn'tthev beautiful !" exclaimed the child. See that doll with light hair. Isn't she lovely ! How I wish she were mine; but you can't buy her for me, can you?" " Not to-night," replied the old man, with a half-suppressed sigh. "But some time, perhaps, my little Aggie can have a far finer one whenrrandpa gets rich." . - He smiled faintly then turned his eyes from the window and gazed away into the darkness. The light fell upon his face, when I could easily discern the deep traces of care, disappointment, and age. " Oh I how I wish I had some of those candies, and the doll, and that wagon with red wheels, and but I forgot. It is wrong to make such wishes. Aunt Maria has told m& that I must not covet anything that to do so is very wicked. Come, Grandpa." And she turned away sadly. Let us go home. I don't want to be wicked, but I can't help it whfn I see so many pretty things." The old man permitted himself to be led from the window by the child, and hand in hand they walked slowly away. For a moment I stood looking after them, then, acting upon the impulse, I started in pursuit. After proceeding a short distance along the main thorough fare, they turned on into a narrow street, and following I saw them enter a small and rather dilapidated house, which stood some little distance back from the street, with a courtyard before it. I noted it i appearance carefully. It was built of wood, two stories high, and looked to be considerably older than a century. A picket fence minus many of the pickets with a rickety gate, wnicn swung backward and for ward in the strong wind, discoursing the most excruciating music imagin able, divided the plot of ground upon which it stood from the street. Satis fied that I could find the house again without difficulty, I retraced my steps, and was soon standing before the coun ter of the little store, into whose win dows the old man and child had gazed so wistfully but a few minutes previous. When I stepped out into the street again it was with a large brown paper bundle in my arm, the contents of which consisted of the coveted doll, several sugar soldiers and peasant girls, a miniature cradle, the wagon with red wheels, a white woolly dog, with pro truding glass eyes and a red paper collar, a cat that mewed when squeezed, and numerous smaller toys, together with several cornucopias of sweets. Though the package was a cumber some one, and on several occasions c:ime near being knocked out of uiy arms by some careless or excited passer-by, and the tongue of the wagon would persist in o-ottiTio- into complications with my letrs T must snv I never felt lighter heart , or better able to contend with the ordinary annoyances of mankind, than on this peculiar occasion. Back to the old-fashion bouse I strug gled, but 1 was not destined to reach it without two complete " tipnps, Irom which I suffered 'no inconvenience, how- wr bevond a slight bruise upon a rather prominent portion of my ana tomy, in consequence of my coming too suddenly and violently in contact witu the pavement, in a sitting posture. I pushed open the vociferous gate, cross ed the courtyard, and knocked at the door of the house. An aged female, wearinar a frilled cap. answered the summons. "Good evening ." I remarked. " My call may strike you as somewhat singu lar, but this being (Jnnstmas eve, J have undertaken, for the hrst time, to enact the agreeable role of St. Is icholas, and in that character I have tapped at your door." She looked rather perplexed, and con siderably alarmed. " Step aside, Nancy, and let me do the talking." And pushing her gently aside, the old man 1 had followed stepped forward. 'What is it, sir?' he asked eyeing me rather sharply: The fact is, 1 replied, 1 saw child, to-night, gazing into the window of a store, and heard her express a de sire to possess some of its contents, and here they are," and I extended the bun dle toward the little pale face I saw- peering timidly out from behind the old woman s skirts in the background. One glance at that countenance, as the expression of perplexity and doubt gave way to that of extreme joy, as the child seized the bundle and tore an aperature in the wrapper, paid me ten fold for the bruises 1 hau received m conveying it to her. The old man looked first at the child and then at me, as if debating in his mind whether it was advisable to permit the little one to retain the package, so mysteriously and unexpectedly presented ; but the female, regardless of his hesitation, again came forward, and with a low "God bless you," bade me euter. Accepting the invitation, I found my self within a good-sized room, upon the large old-fashioned hearth of which sparkled and blazed a cheerful woed tire. The furniture, which was antique in style and much worn, consisted of several cumbersome maple chairs, a huge mahogany bureau with diminu tive glass knobs and claw-like feet, and a tall clock almost resembling a coffin, which stood in a remote corner solemn ly telling off the passing seconds, with its measured "tick, tick." ' Upon the walls, hung several highly -colored prints of scriptural-scenes. There was no carpet upon the well-scoured floor, and everything wore an air of the most scrupulous cleanliness and respectable poverty. The occupants of the apart ment were four in number the old man and woman, the child, and a short, withered up piece of female humanity, who retired to the utmost extremity of the room immediately upon my en trance, and, burying her face in her hands, gave vent to the most astonish ing and unaccountable outburst of feeling, in the form of unintelligible utterances and hysterical sobs, I ever heard. The old man motioned mo to a chair, and when the excited female had somewhat subsided, said: "Sir, you have brought happiness to one little heart to-night, and God bless you for it. But how happened it that one of our household should be the object of your genrosity ? " " Because Providence so willed it," I answered. "I can assign no other rea son." I related how I chanced to over hear the conversation which prompted me to assume the role of St. Nicholas. The child fairly glowed with joy. eyery doll brings to its possessor the. happiness my gift did to this little one, doll-makers should never be forgotten in children's prayers. At last, wearied with play, the child clambered up into the lap of the diminutive female, and sank to rest with the doll pressed to her Heart, in a thoroughly maternal manner. Happening to glance at the wall, near where I was seated, I noticed suspended in a rude frame a family register. The bright border that surrounded it, to gether with the highly-colored and rath er ludicrous pictures intended, no doubt, to be suggestive and appropriate - which headed the respective columns of births, baptisms, marriages, and deaths, at first attracted my attention, but I was still Trtore interested when my eye fell upon the following entry, the last but one under the , latter heading: " WilUam Hemphill, youngest son of Aaron and Nancy Hemphill, aged twenty-six years, sailed from Cliffville, August 16th, 1849, in the brig Starlight. Neither he, the vessel, or any of her crew were ever heard of afterwards." "It's a sad story that paper tells, sir," remarked the old man; as he noticed me looking intently at the register- " A story of long ; waiting, disap pointment, and mourning." "He was your son?" I ventured, after a moment of silence. "Yes," he replied, with something of a tremor in his voice, j " The only one left of three. The others died when they were children. He was a noble lad, and a good seaman. I was so proud of him, sir, so proud, and used to look forward with pleasure to the time when he would command his own vessel. " Tears ran down the old niau's cheeks and his lips tvitched convulsively. Alas! the dream of his old age was dispelled his idol lay buried beneath the waters of the cold cruel sea. And the little one." I asked, " is she his child ?" " He did not appear to hear me. i He was gazing aDstractedly into the hre with a peculiar, far-off expression. His wife answered in his stead, " Yes. " And her mother V I resumed. "Died," answered she, "three years ago. She never was very strong, and when she realized that all hope was vain, she seemed to lose interest in everything. We did all we could for her, but as the doctor said, there was no medicine in this world that could save her. One night she called us v her, and told us that she was going to leave us, and wished to bid ris all fare well; and when she saw the tears rise to our eves for we loved her as if she had been our own she looked up, and smilingly said Father, mother, don t mourn for me: 1 shall De nappy, very happy, soon for I am going to meet him. mv husband, in a land wnere nothing can ever part us.' We lifted her child up to the b dside. She kissed her tenderly, and with its father's name unnmsned on ner ups passeu quieuy awav, . ... -, -i 1 was much moved ny tnis recital, and it was not without difficulty that I overcame the choking sensation I felt in my throat, and suppressed the moisture tliat came to my eyes. The old man having roused from his reverie, was gazing sadly at tne sleeping child. x telt at desire to know more of Wiilian Hemphill than the sad entry upon the family register told. I listened to the wind moauingthroughthemtked branch es of the trees outside, and whistling through everyhole and crevice in the old house, satas. wondering must feel who hear its screeches through the rigging of a doomed ship, far away upon the ocean beyond the reach oi aid. tor some moments, no one spoke no sound broke the stillness except the ticking of the clock, the cracking of the tire and the heavy breathing of the little woman in the corner, who, following the example of the child, had gone to sleep. I was the first to break the silence. " Where was the Starlight bound ? " I ventured, hoping to draw forth the story. " To the northern seas," replied the old man. "She was a whaler, and as pretty a craft as ever sailed. Why, sir, it was considered an honorro be one of her crew. For four years, William had been first mate of the Dolphin, a staunch, slow-sailing brig, that could stow away a larger cargo than any craft that sailed from California, yet he had often ex pressed a wish to sail on the Starlight. The Dolphin got in on a Sunday about sundown. We were seated around the table in this very room, that evening, a happy party, listening to William s de scription of the strange and wonderful things he had witnessed far away in the Arctic seas, when there came a knock on the door. Maria, there" and - he pointed to the slumbering little woman " opened the door, and who should step in but Nathan Ross, the captain of the Starlight. He drew up a chair and joined the party, and entered into con versation and told us many strange in teresting stories. At last, as he arose to go, he turned toward William and asked whether it was true that he had made his last voyage on the Dolphin. ' les, replied, our boy. lhree voy ages on a slow tub like her are quite enough for my temperament' 'How would you like the Starlight ' inquired the captain. ' ihere s not a craft that would suit me better,' he answered. 'I want a mn.te.' the captain went on to ex plain. ' Isaac Uenton is down with a fever, and as I know you to be a good sailor, I dropped in to-night to know whether you will ship with me ?' Wil liam's face lignted up a3 he answered, With no man sooner than yourself, and on no craft with more pleasure than the Starlight. ' " The next day everything was ar ranged, ajid William was the first nrslt of the handsome little brig, whichjsaii- ed two days after upon a six months voyage. There was a crowd on the paer when she left, composed of fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, wives, and sweethearts, collected there to say Good bye ! God speed, and a safe voy age ! ' Days rolled into weeks, and weeks into months, and, at last, people began to speak of the return of the Starlight, and to look toward the hori zon, expecting each day to sight her sail, but no sail appeared except that of some fishing-smack or coasting ves sel in the distance. So six, seven, eight, nine, and ten months rolled away, and yet no news of the overdue vessel reached us, and the peeple be gan to display anxiety and to scan the sea oftener, but the trim little vessel never showed her peaks above the hori zon. It was not until two years had sped by, that all hope died. Oh, sir ! sad faces and broken hearts were nu merous then ! Our home was no longer the same; a heavy cloud hung over it, casting a gloorfl where everything had been bright and happy before. We saw the face that had been the brightest of all, growing each day pale and thinner. It was a long time before I fairly real ized that our boy had gone from us for- then uttering a terrific screech, she sank to the floor. Hastening forward, I was confronted by a tall mau, with a f nil shaggy beard, dressed in a half civilian, half sailor costume. He stepped by me, and crossing, with extended arms, toward the old couple, exclaimed "Father! mntlior t don't, von know me?" At the sound of his voice they rushed forward with a cry of joy, and fell upon his breast. He hsd returned, as from the grave, the son they had mourned as dead, to be the stay of their declining years. But the wife he had so tenderly and truly loved I vv nere wan ouc Alas! beneath the frozen sod of the near-by churchyard she lay, wrapped in that deep sleep that knows no waking. Sadly, but fondly, he clasped his motherless child to his breast, and seated there before the ample hearth, he told his story. The Starlight had foundered in the Arctic sea, but ne and two others succeeded in reaching an icefloe, upon which for three en tire days they drifted over a trackless sea, until a Danish bark hove in sight, and rescued them his comrades m a dying state, and he almost. On his arrival at Copenhagen, he found an English vessel about to sail for Liver pool, and succeeded in obtaining pas sage on her. His great desire was to reach home as soon as possible; but as he was without means he had no alter native but to work his passage. Beach ing an English seaport, he at once went i'i quest of a vessel about sailing for some American port. The Virginia was an American ship. She would sail in a few days for New York, and wanted a few good seamen to complete her crew, the captain informed him where he made his application. It was not until the Virginia had 'been two days out that he discovered she was slaver. Jboniid for the coast of Africa. how they After a tedious, stormy vcyage the ship demoniac I put in at Ouitta, a little town on the Atlantic coast of Africa. He succeeded in effecting his escape to the interior, where he remained several months among the natives. He recounted the strange things he had seen, and the danger he had encountered in the jun gle. At the expiration ot two years he again found himself upon the coast, at Old Calabar, where he shipped upon Brazilian vessel, and m due course of time arrived at Bio de Janeiro. , Years of toil, seeking for gold in the mountain districts, found him a poorer man than when he left home to seek his for tunes at home again, a weary wan derer, with little pleasure in the sound of the Christmas bells a-nnging. head has the The bald space upon mv increased in circumference since Christmas eve I heard that story told in the little old house, and now 1 am very old bachelor. It is just two years ago last New Year since I retired from active life, leaving my partner, William Hemphill, to manage and conduct the business. The wound occasioned by his wife's death has never entirely healed over, so he is a widower and I a bach elor, live together in a quiet neighbor hood in the suburbs of the town. On would scarcely recognize in the pretty and handy little maiden who presides over our establishment the pale child for whom I made my purchase of toys that Christmas eve. logether, once or twice a year, William and I run down to Clin- ville to look after a little homestead which is now his property, and visit the little plot, in the picturesque villagi churchyard, where his father, mother and wife are sleeping. There is a small upper room in our dwelling, which our little housekeeper keeps as a sort of sanctum. In one corner of it I have of ten noticed a small green chest. I had occasion to pass through the apartment a few days since, when I discovered that the lid of the chest was left up, and cu riosity prompted me to take a peep at its contents, which I found to consist of the remnants of a doll's cradle, a doll's wagon, with a solitary red wheel, aud the head, body and one leg of th: doll herself. ever. I have of ten found myself gazing xplanatiout ensued. ? D ! w?i?' t w "TT. f e.ei",g been delayed ina lo ftt mv neart. tnitiKini? halt nlonrl at my heart, thinking half aloud, ' Per haps she 11 heave m sight to-day,' but the remembrance of those two years of vain waiting and hope would flash upon my mind tnen my heart would sink. with a dull sinking pain. After Marie -tij his wife, sir died, the clouds seemed to fall thicker about us. I should have lost all heart, had it not been that the child was left us. Each day some new trouble overtook us, and last year I was obliged to mortgage oar little home here." The fire was dying down only a few coals smouldered among the ashes. The wind sang dolefully, and shook the old house till doors, sashes, and blinds beat in chorus a loud tattoo. I was much affected by the old man s story, His wan face, so deeply furrowed by age and care, and sunken eyes now moist with tears, were thrown out in re lief by the light of the oil-lamps on the mantle, maiing a sad and almost weird picture. He had fallen into ono of his thoughtful moods again, his eyes fixed upon the floor before him. His wife sat rocking backward and forward, in a iow cnair, nervously picking at the thread m the hem of her apron, while the mysterious female and the child slumbered peacefully. Suddenly a gust, stronger than any which had pre ceded it, snook the house from founda tion to roof, so that even the dishes in lhe pantry added to the general clatter oi doors, windows and blinds. All at once, the door through which I had Be Careful About Your Part.. Invita tions. At the wedding of Gen. Llierman's daughter, the guests fell short by 400. It was subsequently ascertained that, to gratify some "practical joke," the invi tations had been purloined from the Post Office. A similar instance occur red not very long ago in England, with a difference, which resulted in a very laughable denoument. In this case, a very grand lady had made the most ela borate preparations lor a garuen par ry." Confectioners, tent-pitchers, Ty rolean minstrels, and a whole army of footmen .and assistants at such festivi ties had been engaged. But nobody came! The lady was chagrined, as might be supposed, and kept retired for a week in a fit of sulks that's the plain Enclish for it. The very day week of the disappointment, as she was languid lv sinning her chocolate and munching her toast abW noon, with a ravished little nie-htctio perched knowing over one. and thinking of getting up by and by, carriagejs were heard rolling up the j he is not at work. ilVtlllil. Jl- XA HT v.- - swarms. Pink bonnets, light muslins, brilliant neqkties, and all the minutiaB of the moist exquisitely fashionable morning neglige were set off by the ra diant countenances of the expectant guests. The lady arose, and hurried lue invites local Post Office, and having been issued merely for "Wednesday," or whatever the day was, had been accepted in good faith, a week after the affair. The lady thenceforthj had all her invitations printed on Commercial blue post. J3he preferred business to fashion after the contretemps. MARRIED LIFE IN NEVADA. The Coufidcntinl Talk a. Yntinn 'ni.. h.. j About 1 units, and What Came of It. From tlie Virginia City Enterprise. After having been married some weeks, it came into the head of a young husband m tnis city, one ounday, when he had but little to occupy his mind, to suggest to his wife that they should plainly and honesuy siaie tne iauits that each had discovered in the other t.hev had been husband and wife. After some hesitation tue who agreeu to the proposition, but stipulated that the rehearsal should be made in all sin- eeritv and with an honest view to me bettering of each other, as otherwise it would be of no use to spe. ox ura faults to which marriage- had opened heir eyes. The husoand was oi tne same mind, and his wife asked him to begin with her faults. He was some- what reluctant, . out iuo wuo that he was the first to propose the mat ter, and as he was at the head of the house it was his place to take the lead. Thus urged, he began tne recisai. said: . . TVTv dear, one of the first iauits x observed in you after we began keeping house was that you a good deal neglect ed the tinware. You didn't keep it as bright as it should be. My mother always took pride in her tinware, aud kept it as bright as a dollar." " 1 am clad that you nave menuoiieu it, dear," said the wife, blushing a lit tle; "heieafter you shall see no speck on cup or pan. Pray proceed." 1 have also observed, said tne nus band, "that you use your dish-rags a long time without washing them, and then fiually throw them away. Now, when at home, I remember that my mother always' used to wash out her .Hsh-rags when she was done using them, and then hang them up vhere they could dry, ready for the next time sh- would need them." i flushing as before, the young wife pr nised to amend this tault. ue husband continued 'with a most formidable list of similar faults, many more than we have space to enumerate, when he declared that he could think, of nothing more that was worthy of men " Now," said he, " my dear, you be gin and tell me all the faults you have observed in me since we were married?" The young house-wife sat in silence; her face flushed to the ternjiles, and a great lump came in her throat, which she seemed to be striving hard to swal low. " Proceed, my dear; tell me all the faults you have observed in me, sparing none. Arising suddenly from her seat, the little wife burst into tears, and throwing 1-oth arms about her husbands neck, ci'ied " My dear husband you have not a fault in the world. If you have even one, my eyes have been so blinded by my love for you that so loDg as we have been married I have never once ob served it. In my eyes you are perfect, and all that you do seems to me to be done in the best manner and just what should be done. " But, my dear," said the husband, his face reddening and his voice grow ing husky with emotion; "just think, I have gone and found all manner of fault with you. Now. do tell me some of my faults ; I know I have many ten times as many as you ever had or ever will nave. Let me hear them." " Indeed, husband, it is as I tell you; you have not,a single fault that I can see. Whatever you do seems right in my eves: and now that I know what a good-for-nothing little wretch I am, shall at once begin the work of reform, aud try to make myself worthy of you." "Nonsense, my dear, you know sometimes I go away, and leave you without any wood cut; 1 stay up town when I ousjht to be at hoiue I spend my money for drinks and cigars when I ought to bring it home to you; 1- ' JNo you don t, cried his wife; "you do nothing of the kind. I like to see you enjoy yourself; I should be unhap py were you to do otherwise than just exactly as yon do ! "God bless you. little wife!" cried the now thoroughly subjugated hus band; " from this moment you have not fault in the world ! Indeed, you never had a fault; 1 was but joking aon t re member a word I said!" and he kissed away the tears that still trembled in the little woman s eyes. Never again did the husband scrutin- ze the tinware, nor examine the dish ag never so much as mention one of the faults he had enumerated; but soon after the neighbor women were wont to say: " It is wonderful how neat Mrs. keeps everything about her houe. Her tinware is always as bright as a new dollar, and I do believe the not only washes, but irons her dish-rags !" And the neighbor men were heard to say " What a steady fellow M has got to One of the Pyramids of. America. A correspondent of the Louisville Courier-Journal, from the.ity of Mexi co, gives in that paper an interesting account of a visit to the ruins of Xochi calco. The place is described in Lip pincott'sGazeteer as" a ruined pyramid, 50 miles S. by. W. of the citv of Mexi- The ruins." savs the corresnond- - i 1 The Indian Territory Blots. Information is received that the re cent mnrrW and rirt at. TalannaK the capital oi fhe Cherokee nation, was a wanton an4 cruel murder on the part of two members of the mounted guard detailed b the Chief, Wm. Boss. It seems that two of the guard got drunk, went down street shooting off their pis tols, and declared that they wanted to kill a Dojwning man. The first one they came to was working in a stable. They kill id him, and joined their comrades, and formed in a line near the postofiice. The Down ing partv formed further down the street and they began firing at each other More than 100 shots were fired, and two persons were severely wounded, afad several slightly, f The murderers were protected in the post office on Sunday for several hours, and no efforts 1 vere made to have them ar rested. They finally escaped to the country. The whole riot grew out of the intensa and bitter feeling between the two pa rties known now as the Boss and Down ing parties. The excitement - d a fl i rtn nillTW la hah a entered the apartment dashed open, and to break oUt at time. Major Ingalls iaiixiK wilu x, n lled the quantity of drifting snow, rushed madly in. lue sudden change of temperature awoke the small female in the corner with a start. Pushing the child from her lap, she sprang up and rushed toward the door. For a moment she stared fixedly out into the darkness, with a look of terror upon her face, and His proved by teen years; on to investigate the matter. recommendations were not ap- the Chief, and he left Tala- quah miicl disappointed with things in the Xndiaq lenitory. Canpy ISam. who has hung around the college buildings at Yale for nine- has gone to England. be of late; he don't spend a dime where he used to spend dollars, and can never be kept from home half an hour when He seems to worship that wife of his. A Remedy for Neuralgia. A'remedy named " acqua puncture' has been introduced in France for the treatment of neuralgia. It may be de scribed a5 a force-pump which can be carried about aud placed on a table with a small flexible tube about two feet long, so constructed as to deliverja thread of water from its extremity with such force as to pierce the leather. In operating on a patient afflicted with neu ralgia the piston is worked a few times to expel the air from the tube; the point is then held about half an inch from the painful spot, the pump is worked, and the thrend of water nlftvs on th skin Presently a white vesicle appears on the spot where the water strikes; and any rmnnr of punctures mnv bo . mad" at the discretion of the operator and in proportion to the extent of the pain. At first the skin around the vesicle becomes red; but after a few hours the vesicle and the redness disappear, leaving only a small black point, which is the crust formed by the drying of a drop of blood in the puncture. The operation is de scribed as painful, but the relief it pro duces is so great that patients always call for a repetition whenever their neu ralgic pains return. The Proposed Caughnawaga Ship Canal. A Belleville (Ontario) (paper learns that the directors of the Caughnawaga Ship Canal Company have, we believe, resolved to construct the canal at their own expense, without the Government's interference. The company has fixed it capital at $5,000,000, and many of the wealthy men of Montreal have taken shares to the amount of $100,000 each. They expect to be able to recover the whole expenditure in a few years after the completion ,of the canal, out of its revenues, and afterward to pocket large dividends. That Iowa invention which is to ef fect " a perfect revolution in the sawing of wood" has been explained, it is a circular saw. Marriage is often the end of man's troubles but which end ? CO. ent, are situated for the mot. nurt upon a single hill, which, although not more than 300 feet above rolling plateau uumcumwjiy around, owing tothe eleva tion on the latter may be seen from a great distance, save in one direction, where the mountains approach within a few miles. So completely is it covered now, however, with stunted trees, shrub bery, vines, and weeds, that we could discover no evidence of artificial woik upon it until we reached its very base. Here we crossed a deep and broad ditch. waned with cemented stone, and ex tending entirely around the hill, a dia tance of about three miles. The walls oi this trench are for the most part broken down, or so overgrown with vines and brushwood as to be scarcely accessible except with great labor; but in many places tney are as perfect as wnen ixtbi constructed, and measure upon the upper sid six or eight feet in height. Above this point the slope pre sents a series of four or five high ter races, supported by slightly inclined walls, composed of large, rough masses of porous volcanic stone called tepite closely cemented with mortar. " It has been satisfactorily determin ed by archneologists that the original monument or temple was a five-storied truncated pyramid, constructed entirely of hewn stone, and measuring about fifty feet in height. Of this only the base or' lower story now remains, which is rectangular in form, its lines cor responding exactly to the profits of the compass, and measuring along its up per edge sixty-four feet from north to south and fifty-eight from east to west. Ti. U.. -T 3 blocks, some of them eight feet m length, and nearly three feet in breadth and thickness. These are most accu rately fitted without cement, and form in position an inclined wall ntteen aud a half feet high; which presents a well- hnished plinth below; then a broad surface, divided into two long panels which extend the whole length of the wall; next a friezes also divided into two panels; audj lastly, prominent cornice by which it is ter minated above. The whole of the frieze, which is three and a half feet in width, and the two broad panels are crowded with figures in bas relief, hav ing a projection of four or five inches, and, as they extend from one stone to another, it is more than probable that they were sculptured after the wall was erected. It is impossible to give an in telligible description of these carvings without the aid of illustrative draw ings. They consist, however, for the most part of the human form, with front view of the body and face in profile, a tunic around the loins, heavy necklace 1 round balls about the throat, arid a profusion of curved lines drooping from the head, and supposed to represent feathers. Some of the figures terminate below in a kind of feather brush or scroll: some are reeling, some standing, and others apparently walk ing, holding erect in the right hand a club shaped, like a cricket bat. There are also well-defined rabbits, heads of nondescript animals like alligators, with drooping lines from the interior of their open mouths and the tops f their heads, hieroglyphic letters, circles in closing a cross, and near the last a fig ure like the letter V on it side (thus ), which A have fancied were intended for a pair of dividers. Nearly the same figures and groupings are repeated upon each of the two broad panels and upon the four sides, and another sot upon the two halves of the frieze, and the same upon the four sides. Among the latter is a very remarkable representation of a man sitting cross-legged, with a cap upon his head, irom which projects for ward the head and half the body of a snake, and over his eyes what appears to be a pair of spectacles without glasses. In the sides of the hill, a short dis tance from the summit, are three or four large openings leading to subter ranean excavations, two of which we followed to the distance of twenty or thirty yards, where they terminated ab ruptly in moderate sized halls, ten or twelve feet high, but without any stone facings or cement. A third one, which was explored by Dr. Skelton and Mr. Drees, led to a large vaulted hall, par tially walled with cemented stones, and supported by pillars left in making the excavation. In the centre of the arched ceiling they observed a large opening, occupied by a hollow cylinder of earthen-ware, the upper orifice of which was closed, as if by something having fallen into it. This hall is said to be situated underneath the pyramid, and its opening to communicate with the interior of the latter. The floor of the tunnel leading to the hall is cemeut ed, and a short distance within the en trance I found the root and shaft of a small deer's horn, about eight inches in length. Other small structures, to gether with fragments of ancient pot tery, were found around the spot." The writer continues: "Whoever may have been the builders of the pyramid of Xochicalco, it is quite evident that they lived before the time of the constructors of the pyramids of Teotihuacan, for the reason already stated that they did not understand the use of obsidian, which was so largely employed by the latter in the manu facture of cutting instruments, arrow heads, and the like. That they pos sessed great taste in architecture, won derful skill in some mechanic arts, and a tolerably clear knowledge of scientific engineering, no one can doubt after an examination of the ruins. When it is ouit) in auiui tiu; ie u:ita o gran ite, of which the base of the pyramid is formed, were brought i from a great distance for there is no appearance of this species of rock within many miles of the spot that these were carried to the top of a steep hill 300 feet high, and they were elevated into a stately edifice, and that they were beautifully sculptured, all this without the use of iron or steel, and so far as we know, without the knowl edge of any of ths modern contrivances for moving heavy masses, Sreven beasts of bnrden. we cannot deny them a high rank in the arts and refinements of civi lized life. They possessed copper and tin, and probably compounded them in to a species of bronze, of which they constructed tools.". ' These ruins are considered the most remarkable yet discovered north of Yu catan and Guatemala. Through Life. We slight the gifts that every season bea And let them fall unheeded from our In our great eagerness to reach ana cla-i The promised treasures of the comiug year . Or else we mourn some great good pa t d away, : j And, in the shadow of our great grit' hi, , . . j ' j . liefuse the lesser good we yet might wi.i. The offered peace and gladness of to-day. So through the chambers ot our life we pass, And leave them, one by one, and never stay, Not knowing how much pleasantness there was In each, until the closing of the door Has eounded through the honse and died away. And in our, hearts we sigh, " Forevermore." I " Chambers' Journal. A Rescue. A few years ago, on any Bunny morn ing, a heap of hi thy tags might be seen stretched on some of the bales of a pa per warehouse in a neighboring city, with a strong smell of stale tobacco and whisky hanging about it. Turning it over (winch you could as though it were a log any time -after ten o'clock in the morning,) you could find the swollen lace of what had once been a handsome " young man: but there was little hope that the bleared eyes or thick tongue could give an intelligent answer. The porters, passing by, would push him aside, but not roughly. The time had been when he had been a jolly, gener ous young fellow and a favorite in the office. "Young liodgers" some one would give you his history in five min utes: " Taken to rum no chance poor devil. Stokes (the proprietor) could not turn him out to starve, so he still gave him a nominal salary, and sut ler eu him to hang about the house, lest he should take to worse courses than drinking." There were hints,- too, of a widowed mother, away off in the country, who had been de pendent on him, and a sweetheart, a pretty, clinging little girl, both of whom long ago he had abandoned. But there was' nothing ; to be done. 1 he end, through the usual horrors of delirium tremens, was apparently not far off. One day, as liodgers was creeping, to the nearest bar for his morning bitters. a man whom he baiely knew by sight, took him by the elbow, and walked with him into a quieter street. " They tell me you are Bichard Bodger's son,'r he said. " Dick liodgers was the only friend I had for years, and, for his sake, I'd like to save his boy. Are you fil ing for me to try? " " Oh! you can try, muttered the lad, with an imbecile laugh. . : This nameless friend, nothing daunt ed, took him to a chamber in his own house, and put him to bed. There he and his sons kept watch and guarded this poor wretch for months like a pris oner, keeping liquor from him, and try ing to supply it by medical treatment. A physician he employed, but he was not able to pay for a nurse. Any one who has had to deal with a victim of manla-a-polu can guess how difficult and loathsome a task he had set himself. Ungrateful enough it was at first; for Rodgere struggled against his tormentors with the ferocity of just what he was a starving animal. As reason began to return, and his unnatural strength to vanishhe would beg them iu his inter vals of reason not to fail him, but to work out the experiment eitner to suc cess or death. " It is my last chance," he would cry; " for God's sake, be pa tient." This friend, with his son, did work it out through all the foul, unmen tionable details, and the end was .not death, but success. "How soon," asked a friend of Bodgers afterwards, "were you trusted alone?" "Not for two y?ars,"he an swered, laughing. "I was out of jail bounds. Do yon remember that lank, muscular fellow who had a desk beside me iu the office ? He took it with -the condition that he could leave it to dog me night and day, to my .meals and to my bed. That was the ton of the man who saved me. He was "taken from a lucurative situation in order that he might become my jailer. God bless him ! How I used to curse him 1 'Can't you trust my honor!' I would cry. 4 I'm not convinced that your honor has not the consumption,' the Scotch-Irishman would say. 'We'll put no burdens on it until it has re gained its health.'" "Your friend was a wealthy man, no doubt.and so able to give both time and money to your case ?" " On the contrary, he is but the own er of a small hat store, and supports his family out of that. He is rich or noble only in the deed and spirit of friend ship. All this was, years ago. liodgers is. now an industrious, honorable man, married to his old love, with his grey haired mother by his hearth, bringing to it tne perpetual benediction of benig nant old age. His friend sells hats makes" ' speeches nor bruit of any sort in world. Nobody has recognized in a hero. Yet who, for the sake of a dead or living friend, would go and do likewise i JCx. TT r a r , J.UJS luuuu itaiure oi a new plan on tnai m tne rkntisn navy, tor raising sunken ships, is closing hermetically iiic uuMjiiBB uu Hu openings in i lie xn ,,i , .lii.l i . .1 ....... r i . air thus introduced rises toward the un der side of the deck, and not being able to escape, presses the water down out through the holes made in the ship's bottom. The vessel by this means will be rendered buoyant and rise to the sur face. A Dissolving Playmate. A family removed from a country vil lage into Boston, and occupied a house comparatively new and in a modern of the city. The children soon began to tell the'ir parents of a boy who came to play with them in the street or in their play room, and of what he said and did, and how he looked. The parents never saw the boy, and finally bade the children bring him in some day to see them. The answer was' " Oh, we can't;" he goes right away." Being told the next time he came to the house to let them know, the children did, so, but as they baid, lie had "gone right away" when the parents reach ed the play room. This Tont on for some time, greatly to the wonder and perplexity of the parents; the children, simple and matter of fact, thought noth ing strange oi n. une day they report ed to their father that their playmate, now well known by name, told them his latner and mother were going to Europe in a few days, and he gave their names and the vessel they would sail by from ew xork. xne gentleman without say ing anything, went to New York, found Bucn names on the steamer list, went to the dock on the day of sailing, sought out tne persons,, ana inquired if they had a boy of such age and description tw nis caiiaren naa related to him. With greht emotion they replied "We t. .3 l , , . , - -. -. , - uu bucu: ooy, out ne is oead; wny oo you ask i Further conversation con vinced them and the Bostonian that the spirit of their darling boy never seen by those whb knew and loved him, was tl e frequent! visitor to the house of perft-i-t stranger, und seen and talked with by tho children of oihera.-r-J$urlington, Vt. ! Free J'lf.tH. . A SENSATION novelist speaks of "wife of three years standing." It is replied that a man who keeps his wife standing three years must be a brute. But she! used to keep him dancing at tendance on her for ever so long.