COIili. VAN OIjEVE. ...
ALBANY;
OREGON.
TOLD AT NIGHTFALL.
It was a stormy September evening.
Ony Urquehart and my resDeeted self
Charles Eupntone, painter were sit
ting in the studio window of his de-
A. 1 .-..1 - .
aiguum uiuB vuua at f rascati, near
Some, high over the rounded tops of
woods now lurid in the red setting sun.
Beneath a leaden sky the gloomy Cam-
pagna stretched like a dead sea, and
wiui its i air run cut tne disk, a porten
tons blood-red ball, slowly, slowly
sinking. . .
Guy and I had been old friends and
school-fellows in England. He was two
or three years older than myself, but
that had made his f rienship for me all
the tenderer, and mine for him reveren
tiaL Besides, I had looked on Guy as
a kind of genial young saint. I had
always felt rather wicked in his com'
pan), because he really seemed, quite
naturauy, never to ao anything wrong,
or to have so much as a wrong thought.
He would have chosen art as his pro
fession, I knew, had he been allowed a
voice in the arrangement of his own fu
tore; but the bilious old father who
ruled his destiny made a civil engineer
of him, without the slightest reference
to any possible fancy or protest of the
lad s. Naturally, he did not take kind
ly to his work, though he buckled to it
conscientiously.
When I came to Italy to study art-
Guy and I kept up a pretty brisk cor
respondence for about a twelvemonth.
But in my second Italian summer his
letters suddenly ceased to arrive. I
wrote to him in vain hope of answer for-
six mantnH) and then let the correspond
ence go witn a sign.
I easily ascertained that be was alive
and well, but could find out nothing
else about him that we s more reliable
than the gossip retailed bv certain En'
glish military men, who had flapped
their lazy flight across the sea one win
ter, and perched in Borne. " Got into
a scrape about a woman, and didn't
behave well to her, or something of the
sort," drawled out one of these amiable
gentlemen. And this was all I could
discover about poor Urquehart.
But at last I heard from Guy him
self once more. Lo ! he had inherited
a small fortune from a distant relation ;
he had thrown civil engineering over
board ; ne was coming to tiome iortn
with. te study art in earnest at last ; and
we must spend tne em.nn.c summer in
"Villeggiatura together, eating figs at
-LTiscumm. as the tune my stoy be
gins, ne nad been about an weeks in
Rome, and had already pa:nted oi.e or
two capital little pictures .
No village in the world drives such a
roaring trade in scandal as grand ld
XConie. lou nave seen now Urquehart s
character went before him, as Sir Petei
Teazle's stayed behind, .for the comfort
of the community, and what mercy it
met with. Now, when circumstances
are served up in this mixed way, theie
are generally certain tacts wmcn one
may trace like pebbles through disturb
ing waves. I felt convinced that I
. Should do so in Urquehart's case, if ever
it pleased him to give me his confi
dence.
But I could not try to thrust myself
into any chamber of his past not freely
opened to me. 1 could not nelp guess
ing that there was a shut and looked
door, behind which lurked the solution
of a mystery. This mystery was the
great and grievous change in my friend.
not to be accounted for by the mere
lapse of two or three years. And this
change was all the more remarkable that
it was not always obvious. No two men
could be more unlike than Urquehart
to Urquehart in different moods. It
seemed to me as if much evil had flowed
into his heart by some rent where much
good had run out, but that the poison
had never mixed with the healthy juice
of his life.' . ,
On this September evening as we sat
together, Guy had been muttering some
very bad sentiments, which would have
grieved me mere if I had not attributed
them in part to some unripe peaches
and the state of his stomach.
"Guy." said X suddenly, "I've
found a key to much that makes people
- gasp and stare at yon.'
" What do you mean 1" returned he,
rather roughly.
Most persons," I wens on, "are
half-angel, half-devil, they say. But
your angel and devil seem to share
their lodging on the most curious terms
of mutual foroearance. ' 'xney seem to
' take you turn and turn about, in watch'
es. v a it were. Your angel never tor
ments your devil, or interferes with his
mode of en j eying himself, in his Walpur
cris niglat with his man ; and your devil.
with equal politeness, never intrudes
himself on the angelic prayer-meetings,
They could not possibly come in con'
tact without disturbing the harmony of
the system ; but they seem to agree
to diner, like certain polite married
couples.'--' '-i t..'.
Urquehart took . his pipe from his
mouth, and Hew out a long smoke
wreath. Then he leaned head and
" shoulders out of the window, and stared
far away at the sun, now like a dot of
.-. blood ill the livid horizon, till even that
crimson speck was absorbed. Then he
brought himself back to his former
TVMiitLon in a corner of the rickety
old sofa, and from that dusky comer
"You hooked a fine fat fish there,
ro-r voung friendj with - your moral
critical line. Your sagacity really de
serves twittintr for having snapped up
such a good head of game.: Still you
don't know how the devil got into me ;
how should yon? He had hardly set
claw on vonr friend when we were boys
. together, and I rather the better boy
f the two."
" You may well say that, old fellow I
At that time (and what a little time ago
it is after all f) you really seemed inca
pable of evil, or even of comprehend
ing it. You trusted everybody implicit
ly, because you yourself were "
" An ass ! roared Urquehart. " And
; now listen."?-
So. as the mcht fell, ana " the case.
inept Slowly grew apiTnwwlTyTTayf,
in the blackness, ; TJrcuehart'a tale was
told.--:-m-,iS - -
" Fourteen months ago, : I was lodg
ing for the summer in a farm-house in a
village, no matter where. The only
ouse there belonging te gentlefolks,
ept the wretched; old parsonage, was
Squire Bingwood's. It was a big,
stupid-looking mansion, on a hili,
staring down overbearingly at the poor
little tenements huddled together be
low ; and the burly Squire himself
was for all the world like his house, as
he sat on his tall horse, and looked
down pompously over his vast waist
coat at a frightened crew of village
children. The Squire had an ugly,
sickly wife and daughter, and they had
an humble companion that was an angel
of beauty. I fell in love with her at
church. Oh, the little church in the
west conn trie, hid in the bowery orchard
noiiow i Oh, the sadden delicious gust
that littered the graves with blossoms !
your mother's grave, Charley ; has
the dear woman the violets I planted
there ? or did they die like the faith and
nope sne set in me ? X fell in love with
Fanny Vale before I knew her name ; I
learned that from the farm-house folk
with whom I lodged. ; They told me.
moreover, that she was a young widow,
and still in weeds when she came to
lodge very humbly in the village six
months before ; that the Squire s wife
and daughter had taken a fancy to her,
and had adopted her into their family.
as a ama oi reaaer ana companion of
all work. I made her acquaintance by
a note which I threw at her feet over a
hedge the first time I spied her walking
- V -m . m i.
aione. i neea not swear to vou tnat 1
never had an evil wish or thought about
ner. xo ma a woman was a nolv thing.
desecrated by no lowness of condition.
deserving of any gentleman's love and
reverence, if endowed with certain
qualities. These qualities I now took
on trust, and, being enchanted by her
beauty, saw also the perfection of moral
loveliness in her face. Such an angelic
face, Charley I There she sat in the
Squire's pew, beside her ugly patron
esses, with such intelligence m her
melancholy blue eye and fair half -moon
ox orw, suon a Dreaming sensiouity
in her silence ; and when I came to
know her, what sympathy in her smile.
what silken manners, so soft, graceful.
caressing, yet modest and full of suave
dignity I one did not answer my note :
but when I went to the copse behind
Bingwood house, where I had implored
ner to meet me, sne was there, tone
came, sne said, jniy to beg me to come,
and write no more. : She was a poor
dependent, and the least suspicion
falling on her would cast ner homeless
and friendless on the world. I will not
dwell on this stale love story ; it was
perfectly commonplace of its kind, ex
cept that the dupe was not, tor once,
the humble beauty, but the gentleman
from London. She consented to be my
wife : and at the summer's end, without
asking her a tingle question as to her
past, without knowing more of it than
the farm folk had volunteered to tell me
the first day I saw her, I brought this
girl to London and married her. That's
what came of being too good for this
world, incapable of evil, or the compre
hension of it. x nad written to tell m;
father of my intended marriage to (
frankly confessed) a perfectly obscure
and penniless young woman, that had.
of course, everything but position and
wealth to recommend her. I wrote a
respectful letter which I received back
in a blank cover. Yet my heart yearned
to the cross-grained old man, and from
the glory and joy of my fool s paradise.
I emerged voluntarily, before the hon
eymoon was over, to seek a reconciliation
with my father.
" When I got to his door, he drove
me away li&e a beggar, luce a strange
dog, with bis lifted stick, with his
mouth full of curses. This is the last
I ever saw of him. He died six months
after, implacable.
"I hurried back to town, to be com
forted by the angel m my house.
returned sooner than I was looked for,
I opened the door by a latch-key. and
went softly up-stairs to surprise my
wife. It was about Z in sne afternoon.
Our little drawing-room had folding
doors, which were now sjar. JNo one
was in the front room, but X heard I
heard my wife's voice in the other.
heard her voice and a man's. I had
but to step forward, and I saw-
It was quite dar& by this time, and
here the voice that had come out of
Urquehart's black corner suddenly
broke into an awful sob.
"Don't go on, said I, much dis
tressed.
" Let me alone, gasped Urquehart.
In less than a minute he resumed,
, " I saw my wife with her arms round
a man's neck. She was passionately
entreating him not to leave her ; he was
trying to release himself. The next
moment they saw me, and started apart.
Then, instantly, my wife, that tender
angel, flung herself at me like a wild
cat. She did not scream, but through
her shut teeth she said, I'll kill you.
Til kill you, if you touch him !' Her
blue eyes glared much like yonder blue
lightning tnat keeps flashing out there,
and something glittered close to my
face, ne nad snatched up ner scis
sors and I verily believe . would have
aug them into my temple if the man
her lover, had not come and pulled
down her hand. She was going to fall
into his arms again, 1 but he put her
from him, not very gently, and told her
to sit down. She obeyed him instant
ly. I cannot in the least describe my
state of mind all this . time, which was
only a minute or two, I suppose. My
impression is that I had ceased to feel ;
that, if my brain and heart had been
scooped out, I could not have been
emptier of emotion and thought ; that I
was not conscious of any vindictive rage,
or any transport of despair. Some peo
ple may think I ought to have kicked
that man down -stair a, I neither did
so, nor felt any desire to hurt him. It
was, he who took the initiative, and
made me a sign to go into the front
room with him, which I did. Then,
when I stood there face so face with him.
I said suddenly, and, as it were, invol
untarily : .,v.,
"Who are you? 1
" ' I am sorry for you,' said he, in
gentle drawl, looking at me quite com
passionately ; ' this woman has treated
you very badly. Still, you know, you
have only yourself to thank, xeur con
duct has been quite inconceivably rash,
you snow K.r ? --;--'
" ' Who are you? I repeated, staring
at him bluntly. - t r
"I am Caps. Edward Bingwood.
This woman is - an actress, whom I be
came acquainted with about s year or
two before you first saw her. I assure
yon I knew nothing about your love
affairs or proposed marriage. If I had
known in time, I should certainly have
condsidered it my duty to warn you of
the awful blunder you were making.
When I went abroad with my regiment,
is seems she chose to go down and wrig
gle herself into my family. What her
motive was. I can t imagine." ' She is a
most artfuL dangerous person, that is
clear. She saw my return to England
in the papers yesterday, and sent me
note inviting me to come and see her at
this address, which I did. I give you
my word of honor I had not been here
ten minutes when you made your ap
pearanoe. She had just told me she
was married, and this was your heuse ;
upon which I got up and wished her
good-day.
"By this time I had found myself
unable to stand, and was sitting on the
sofa with my head between my hands.
WhenCapt. Bingwood left off speaking,
I looked up, meaning to say something,
but forgot what it was, and only stared
at him silently.
" He was a fair,' slight young man,
about 80, with handsome,thin features,
and large, light-brown whiskers. He
stood there looking at me with the same
good-natured concern in his face that
he had expressed in words, in his fash
ionable, affected way.
" At last I recollected what 1 had
been going to say, and told him I
wished to be left alone. He silently
took out his card, laid it on the chimney-piece,
and went out.
"I don t know how many hours I re
mained lying on the sofa, with my eyes
shut, in that strange torpor; but it was
night when I opened them, and found
my wife standing by me. She had
lighted the candles on the chimney
piece, and was stooping down over me.
She started upright as my eyes opened,
but she did not avoid them. , She con
fronted me, arching back her nymph
like figure, and leaning one hand on a
table behind her. I felt no emotion at
sight of her, but looked at her as if she
had been a picture. Her beauty was
splendid. All her fair golden hair was
turned off her white face in a sort of
gUttering aureola. Her great turquoise-
biue eyes flared under slightly con
tracted brows ; the nostrils of her deli
cate, straight nose and her infantine
mouth expressed rage and pain.
" I am glad you are awake.' said
she ; ' I want you to hear me say I hate
you I
I don't care, said I, wearily. Go
away.
' lier face named out with the fury
that was burning her heart.
" JBut you do care I she cried ; "you
shall care 1 I tell you I always laughed
at you and despised you. I only mar
ried you from pique because he left
me. X got into his family and toadied
them, and made myself their servant,.
only to bear of him, and to feel nearer
him, and be where ne nad Deen x love
him so! I love no one else in the
world I never did. I would kill you,
and a dozen like you, to save him from
a nngerache. x would rather a thou
sand times have a blow from him than a
kiss from you a hundred million
times ! When I think of you, and that
you are between us, 1 hate you I ab
lior you ! How dare you smile at me?
X 11 kill you r.
" I was quite unconscious of smiling:
but she darted at me, and Btruck at my
throat. I caught her hand ; thi3 time
she had a penknife in it, and I felt that
she had pricked me. That instinctive
act of self-defense roused me, and
probably saved my wits as well as my
life. When I had mastered her and
thrown the knife away, I held her hands
in mine till she put down her face and
bit them . savagely. X tied her wrists
with my pocket handkerchief, and she
sank panting on a chair. All of a sud
den the unhappy creature burst out
crying as if her heart was broken as it
wall might be. Probably Bingwood's
cool treatment of her throughout the
interview recently was at the bottom of
that frenzy of vituperation, that des
perate behavior toward me. She did
not hate me, but was simply mad with
pain, and raved and struck out in her
delirium. I think she really liked me
when she married me, notwithstanding
her assertion to the contrary, and
meant and wished to lead a new life;
but the sight of xungwood s name in
the papers, and the knowledge of his
nearness, in my absence, revived her
passion for him, in which her good
resolutions burnt like straw. I released
her hands, and brought water and put
it to her lips ; and when she was quiet
through exhaustion, X advised her to
lie down, and hoped she would
goto sleep. As I was leaving the room
she called me back, m a low, broken
voice, and when X stood beside the sofa
on which she lay, she joined her hands,
and asked me, with streaming eyes, to
forgive her. I did so, freely. Of
course, Bingwood was right. I had no
one but myself to thank. My infatua
tion had been so monstrous that X
could "no more complain of the conse
quence than a man, sober, can com
plain of the consequences of some
drunken folly. ;
" In the morning I took Fanny away
to a farm-house in Kent, a place she
knew of, and chose herself for a retreat.
She was quiet and humble, and appar
ently broken-spirited. But she did not
remain there a month ; nor do I know
whither she went, or where she has been
ever since. Before she left she wrote
me a long letter expressing her remorse
at her behavior toward" me ; 'bad as I
am,' ended she, I will never trouble
you more. I do implore you to be sure
of that, and to forget me, or think of
me as dead.'
" I am afraid to think of her at all.
I made every possible effort to trace
her, quite in vain ; and I hardly know
where would be the good if I suc
ceeded. " That's all," added Urquehart, after
a moments pause; "and there s the
history of your friend and the wife of
his bosom ; and if you still wonder how
or when my devil got into me, I don't.
I believe you love me enough to think
he is not so black a devil as he is
painted. I am not the kind of man in
whose heart such a gash could be made,
and heal, and leave no mark. For a
long while this world seemed, and often
does seem, really an Inferno ; nothing
but plunging and breaking one's heart
in a swamp of suffering, with intervals
of quiet from mere exhaustion and de
spair. Ah, Charlev I how I wished your
mother had been alive I I wanted some
kind woman, that was honest and pure,
about me; we men all do in our dark
hour. , Basta I let us go down to the
drawing-room, and your friends, and
the lamp. By Jove, what a flash!
There's a mighty storm brewing, young
fellow." -.
A Good Patent Medicine Story.
"Lives there a man with soul so
dead " as never to have heard of Prof.
Benton's " Holloway pills " and oint
ment ? These curative medicines have
been constantly advertised for the last
twenty years in every newspaper in the
world, the result of its publicity being
that the Professor has realized an enor
moua fortune. He and his wife are now
well stricken in years, and they have no
children. So he is spending his money
in benefioence. r Believing possibly
from the large sale of Lis quack medi
cines that most - people are mad, he
has built an asylum for the insane at
Virginia Water, near Windsor, at a cost
of jeiuuuuo, and he is now about to
erect at Egham a university for ladies.
on an estate which he has just bought
for 25.000. The best professors will
be engaged to give the highest educa
tion pot sibly to women, and the scheme
will cost 150,000. This Mr. Holloway
once asked Dickens to write one page of
matter, mentioning in some way or
other Hollowav'a Dills. In the envelone
eontaining this request was a check for
1,000. Dickens, who was greatly an
noyed, put envelope and contents into
another, loose, and returned them by
the messenger, saying there was no an
swer. I had this story from Dickens
own lipBr. London Correspondence,
jxew ryfc Jtleraia.
Tub highest prize in a Chinese lottery
is 29 cents, and? the man who draws it
has his name in the papers, and is
looked npon as s heap of a fellow.
STEEL.
How It la Blade Its Manufacture Always
K.ep a Mystery, which is Transmitted
Verbally from father to Son Interest
ing Ifacta.
Gen. F. A. Starring, in his report to
the Treasury Department upon the
steel question, gives an interesting
chapter upon the manufacture of steel.
He says: :..
Xae manufacture of steel has always
been kept a sort of mystery. The proc
ess mostly followed is what is known
Huntsman a process, discovered
or most successfully worked and
brought into operation in 1780 by Ben
jamin Huntsman. Steel bearing bis
name is universally known.
The process with its subsequent im
provements is very, complicated. The
special method of manufacture adopted
by each firm is a jealousy-guarded se
cret handed down by verbal lormuia,
etc., from father to son, through suc
cessive generations. Each maker has
bis peculiar mode of manufacture, and
does not know what particular propor
tions of irons, etc., are adopted by his
colleagues in mixing their steeL
Cast steel is made from various mate
rials. The most inferior quality is
English cast steel, viz., that made from
English iron or scraps. This is the
kind from which English spring-steel
is made, the price being about 25 per
ton. English cast steel is adapted only
for piston-rods, springs for wagons,
etc., rope-wire, and for purposes where
a cutting edge is not required. This
class of steel does not come under the
designation of best cast steel, although
its appearance is very similar. For the
best qualities of cast steel good Swed
ish iron must be used.
There is a proverb among steel-melt-ers
that if you would have good steel
you must put good irons of uniform
quality into the melting pot. This is
the case, as it concerns the consumer
or person who uses the steel, although
the brands of the iron are melted and
lost to view.
The Swedish iron is delivered to the
manufacturer in the form of bars,
which have been hammered to the
necessary dimensions, viz. : about nine
inches wide, one-half inch thick, and
from six to twelve feet long.
The first process of manufacture is
that of conversion. The converting
furnaces are of different sizes, some
capable of containing twenty-six tons
of iron, some forty tons. They contain
two stone-converting pots, each about
four feet in width and depth, and
twelve feet in length. These pots are
placed side by side, and when in opera
tion the heat from the fire below is con
ducted around each pot by means of
flues. The heat is prevented from es
caping by means of a brick dome in
closing the whole. The iron bars are
placed in layers in the converting-pots,
the spaces between the layers being
filled up with charcoal broken into
small pieces. When the converting
furnace is filled, it is hermetically sealed
with " wheel swarf," a substance accu
mulating at the trough of the grinding-
wheel, and capable of resisting long
exposure to heat. The fire is then
lighted, and is allowed to burn from
twelve to sixteen days, the time de
pending upon the amount of carboniza
tion required. It is then left to die
out, and the converting furnace and
metal, having been raised to a great
heat, take about the same length of
time to cool as for the heating. When
the metel is removed it is covered witk
blisters, from which it gets a name of
"blister steeL Xt is as brittle as glass,
and can be broken by a slight blow of
the hammer.
After the metal has been weighed, it
is taken to a melting furnace, and con
veyed into small fire-clay pots about
eight inches in diameter, and sixteen to
twenty inches high, covered with
closely-fitting lids, and previously raised
o a white heat. A hey are allowed to
remain in the furnace, surrounded by a
strong nre, lor several noun, aunng
which the metal is, frequently stirred,
so that it may be thoroughly mixed.
After it has been thoroughly melted and
mixed, it is run into a metal mold of
the required form. When the bars are
cooled, a piece is broken off at each end
-this inspection of the fractures being
for the purpose of ascertaining whether
the metals have been thoroughly mixed
more than to determine whether the
quality of the steel is equal to any par
ticular standard. This completes the
process ; and the steel is sent to the
mill to be rolled or hammered into its
ultimate shape of square, triangular,
octagon, round, or flat.
Without entering into an analysis of
the many different ways in which oast
steel or best cast steel is made, it is
sufficient to state that there are several
hundred varieties, varying in temper
and quality. The best oast steel of one
manufacturer, may be totally different
from that of another firm.
It is. of course, well known that noth
ing can be told by the outside surface
of the Dars, dus is is neveruieiess true
that the value can be determined by the
grain, as exhibited upon fracture. If
the grain is fine, the steel is supposed
to be valuable ; if coarse, not so. This
is altogether an error. The grain of
the steel depends npon the temper the
harder the steel is, the finer it is in the
grain. The commonest quality looks
just as fine as the best ; and many of
the low-priced samples forwarded here
with present a considerably finer grain
than the steel worth $4 or 5 more per
hundredweight.
' Taxes In Different States.
4 A table recently prepared from offi
cial statements for 1873 and 1874 gives
the taxable valuations and the rates of
taxation in the several, States The
rates vary all the way from 10 cents on
the 8100 in Connecticut, to the enor
mous sum of on . tne kiuu in
Louisiana. The rate is 60 cents in
Alabama. Arkansas. California, Maine,
Minnesota. Texas -and 'Virginia; 40
cents in Georgia. Kansas, Ohio and
Tennessee : 70 cents in Florida : 10
cents in Connecticut : 24 cents in Illi
nois ; 15 cents in Indiana ; 17 cents in
Maryland : 22 cents ; in- Michigan
M. 124 in Nevada: 72 cents in New
York ; 15 cents in Oregon ; 20 eents in
Bhode Island, and 70 oents in South
Carolina. The great difference in the
rates ia remarkable. Indiana and Mis
souri have about equal populations, but
the Indiana rate (15 cents) is one-third
ss large as the Missouri rate (45 oents);
this is partially explained, however, by
the fact that the Indiana valuation
($950,500,000) is neatly twice as great
as that of our state ioo,oo,uuu.
XL Louis Republican.
Pcsoh has the following on the abo
lition of second-class carriages : " Are
there any second-class carriages on this
line, Eogersf" :"o, my lord." "Ah,
then take two first-class tickets and two
third." "Beg pardon; my lord, but
is me and Mrs. marker expected so go
third-class ?' " Gracious . heavens !
No, Rogers, not for the world ! The
third-class tickets are for my lady and
me!"
Boom Enough.
A few facts touching population will
reassure those who suppose that this
country is getting to be so densely pop
ulated that it will not offer inducements
to European immigrants very much
longer. The islands of Great Britain
and Ireland, with an area of about 21,
600 square miles, contain forty-two
cities with a population of 21,000 and
upward, their aggregate, population be
ing 8,012,200. Of these cities twenty-
six have a population of JXJ.UUS and up
ward, the total being 7,469,000, and the
average 466,800.
1 or comparison take the mew En
gland States, with New York and New
Jersey. These States, exceeding Great
Britain and Ireland in area by 4,000
square miles, contain only twenty-nine
cities with a population of 21,000 and
upward, the total being 2,746,800. Of
these only ten contain 50,000 inhabitants
and upward, the total being 2,152,000,
and the average 215,250, or less than
half that of the twenty-six British
cities. If we include all the towns and
cities in New England, New York, and
New Jersey, with 7,000 inhabitants and
upward, we find seventy-one of them in
all. with a population 3.174.900. The
number 7,000 is chosen as being one
third of the lowest number of inhabit
ants in any of the British cities re
ferred to.
To narrow the comparison: England
proper, with an area of about 51.UOO
square miles, has no, less than twenty
eight cities containing 21,000 inhabitants
and upward, the total being b,322,DUU, and
sixteen of these cities contain 50,000 in
habitants each and upward ; the States
of New York and Massachusetts, with
an area exceeding that of England by
3,800 square miles, only nineteen cities
containing zti.uuu inhabitants and up
ward, the total being2,269,500 and only
six of these cities contain 50,000 and
upward each. To go one step further :
England has 421 inhabitants to the
square mile, while New xork and Mas
sachusetts have only 106 to the square
mile, or only about one-fourth as many.
From these facts it is safe to conclude
that we still have room for more even in
the most densely settled of our States.
England, however, is not the most
densely populated country in the world.
Xiittie Xieigium, which is about the
size of the State of Maryland, has
442 inhabitants to the square mile.
or more than six times as many in all
as Maryland. . With an equal density of
population Illinois would contain no less
than 24,491,000 inhabitants, or more
than Hrussia, and nearly as many as
England and Scotland combined : and
the United States as densely settled
would contain a population 'of 1,600,
000,000 or 300,000,000 more than the
entire population of the globe at the
present time.
xt is true, of course, that a large part
of the territory comprised within the
United States is incapable of support
ing a dense population. There are
great ranges of mountains which will
never be good for much except to afford
coverts for game, and so modify the
climate, and there are vast acres of arid
plains which will remain sterile so long
as the mountains stand as a barrier be
yond which the clouds from the ocean
cannot pass. But notwithstanding all
that, there is no danger of our crowd
ing one another very hard for some
centuries to come unless the Chinese
should pour their millions into our
midst ; and if five ships, with 800 China-,
men each, should arrive on the Pacific
coast every day in the year, they would
bring less than a million and half of
the almond-eyed emigrants annually.
vmcago Times.
Western Progress.
The New York papers and the East
ern papers generally are waking
up, latterly more than ever before, to
the fact that the West is growing in
business and manufactures, as well as
in population. The' New York Com
mercial A.dverto8er, in a recent issue,
has a very interesting article in admis
sion of this. It remarks that the East
ern reader has so long regarded the
New England and Middle States as hav
ing the sole right to manufacture for
the rest of the united states, that it
seems to him manifestly improper that
Western capitalists should engage in
any other business than packing hogs
or shipping grain. Then it proceeds to
summarize some of the statistics in the
census of 1870. At that time the State
of New York had 35,693 manufactories
in its borders. The six New EoglaBd
States had 32,005 viz., 5,462 in Maine,
3,296 in New Hampshire, 8,194 in Ver
mont, ld,12o in Massachusetts, 1,813 in
Bhode Tsland, and 5,082 in Connecticut.
Once these States controlled the manu
factures of the Union. But if we turn
to the West we shall find some figures,
says the Advertiser, that " will startle
us by their suggestive comparisons.
In 1860, Ohio had 22,254 manufactories;
Illinois had 12,491 ; Indiana, 11,622 ;
Michigan, 9,264 ; Wisconsin, b,915 ;
Iowa, 6.566. This gives a total of 69.-
102 for the six States, or more than
double the number of the New England
States. Umo and Illinois together had
as many manufactories as New York,
and more than all New England. Com
menting upon this, the Advertiser adds:
" True, msny of these branches of basin ass
are small, bat they are the seed of great ac
tivity ia the future. When it ia known that
Missouri has as many branches of dud
f actnres as Maaeschusetta. and that Tennessee
bas more than Connecticut, it mnat be evi
dent that Ben Butler spoke words of sound
wisdom to his constituents when he bade
them remember that the scepter of power had
passed to tbe country west of the Middle
States. It is vain to abut oar eyes to this
fact. Baltimore has been prompt to reoog
nize it by extending ber groat railroad artery
to Chicago, ana ty ragging the west to
make it seaboard port In Maryland. It is
time tbat the people of Nev York also waked
to a knowledge of the faot that the West ia
not only a producing country, rich in all re
sources of the soil, and boundless tn its ca
pacity for its production, but that there has
ceased to be any obstacle to the extension of
its manufactures. It has all the facilities
that the East can boast. Cheap transporta
tion has made machinery and the raw ma
terial everywhere available, and tbe Western
manufacturer naa his customers at his doors.
The next decade is destined to see steady
Ijrawiu ui mauuiactures at (ne west, ana I
competition in sales for which Eastern manu
facturers must be prepared."
Freaen Politeness. -
A Frenchman -was about to be hanged
for a criminal offense ; aa there was no
professional executioner available for
the occasion, the painful duty of carry.
ing put the sentence devolved upon an
amateur, who apologized for possible
shortcomings to the person principally
I m hope you will pardon me," said
he, "if I put you to any unnecessary
inconvenience ; but the faot is, I have
never nangea any one before."
Pray do not mention it," replied
kue oiiier, witn tne greatest sancTroia ;
" for that matter, I have never been
hanged before. We must each do our
best."5 . , .
Silk culture in California seems to be
considered a failure. The idea prevails
tnat tne cumate is in fault. Mulberry
trees thrive, but silk-worms perish be-
xore maturing tne oo coons.
BUSINESS CARDS.
JOHN CONNER,
an In iie
AND-
Exchange Office,
ALBANY, OREGON.
Deposits received subject to cheek at sight.
Interest allowed on time deposits in coin.
Exchange oa Portland, San Francisco and New
York for sale at lowest rates.
Collections made and promptly remitted.
. Refers to H. W. Corbett, Henry Failing, W. S.
Idd.
Btnking hours from 8 a. m. to 4 p. ni.
Albany, Feb. L, 1874. 22v6
P. M. JONES.
J. IilSeEY HILL.
JONES & HILL,
PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS,
Albany, Obeoon.
37v0
. J. W. BALDWIN,
Attorney and Counselor at Law,
Will practice in all the Conrts in the eond, Third
and Fourth Judicial Districts, in the Supreme Court
of Oregon, and in the U. S. District and Circuit
Conrts.
Office in Parriah brick (up-stsl), in office occu
pied by the late N. H. Orsnor, First street, Albany,
Oregon. to!6v6
D. B. BICE, M. D.,
SURGEON AND PHYSICIAN.
Office, First-st., Between Ferry and Wanhington.
Residence, Third street, two blocks below or east
of Methodist Church, Albany, Oregon. v5n40
J. C.
POWBIili. I.
POWELL & FLYNN,
Attorneys anil Counselors at Law,
AND SOLICITORS IN CHANCERY,
L. Flinn, Notary Public), Albany, Oregon. Collec
tions and conveyances promptly attended to. 1
Albany Book Store.
JNO. FOSHAY,
Dealer in
Miscellaneous Books, Scliool Books, Blank
Books, Stationery, fancy Articles, tc.
Books imported to order at shortest possible no
ice. - v6n'J0
DB. GEO. W.
GRAY,
I s
D 35
IN" T
T
Albany, (5beook.
Office in Parriah Brick Block, corner First and
Ferry streets.
Residence, corner Fifth and Ferry streets.
Office hoars from 8 to 13 o'clock s. m. and 1 to 6
o'clock p. m. 18v6
Epizootics Distanced,
THE BAY TEAM STILL LIVES,
And is flourishing like a green bay tree. Thankful
for past favors, and wishing to merit the continu
ance of the same, the BAY TEAM will always be
resdy, and easily found, to do any hauling within
the city limits, for a reasonable compensation.
r Delivery or goods a specialty.
20v5 A. N. ARNOLD, Proprietor.
W. C. TWEEDALE,
Dealer in
Groceries, ProTisions, Tobacco, Cigars,
Cutlery. Crockery, and Wood and Willow Ware.
Albany, Oregon.
W Call and see him. 2v5
The Metzler Chair!
Can be had at the following places :
Harrisbnrg Sam May
Junction City Smith h Brastteld
Brownsville Kirk & Hume
Halsey J. M. Mosgaa
Bcio 3.3. Brown
Albany Graf & Collar
A full supply can also be obtained at my old shop
on First street, Albsny, Oregon.
j. m. ait izutK
Piles !Piles!
Whv say this damaging and troublesome com
plaint cannot be cured, when so many evidences of
success might be placed before yoo. every day
cures of suDDOsed hopeless cases T Your physician
informs you that the longer you allow the complaint
to exist, yon lessen your ensnces zor reiiei. jxe-
ptrienee has taught this in all easfs.
A. Carotliers & Co.'s Pile Pills & Ointment
Are all they are recommended to be. Will cure
Chronic, Blind and Bleeding Piles in a very short
time, snd are convenient to e.
This preparation ia sent by mail or express to any
point within the JJuited States at $1.50 per package.
Aaureas A. lawj ihim ,
27 v5 Box 33. AUbany. Oregon,
JOHN SCHMEER,
DEALER IN
Groceries and ProTisions,
ALBANY, OREGON,
Has just opened his new grocery establishment, on
Corner of Ellsworth and First Streets,
With s fresh stock of Groceries, Provisions, Candies.
vuar, xodbcco. c, to wmcn ne invites tne stten.
tlon of our citizens. -
In connection with the store he will keep a Bakery,
and will always have on hand a full supply of fresh
tsreea. uncaere, etc
as call ana see me.
JOHN fcCHMF.ER.
February 16. aiv4
The Old Stove Depot
John Briggs,
Dealer in
Cook, Parlor anil Bbi StoTes !
OF THE BEST PATTERNS. .
; A. X. 8 O .
Tin, Sheet Iron and Copper Ware
And the usual assortment of Furnishing Goods to
I oe oouunea in s Tin mors. .
Bepsirs neatly and promntly executed on reason.
auia terms.
Short Beekonlagg Make Long Friend.
Front Stbebt, Aljiant.
Dec 8, 1874.
Every thing New.
(GRAF & COLLAR,
Manufacturers and Dealers in
FUBNIT XT IR IE
OF JJJ KINDS.
Bureaus, Bedsteads, Tables, Lounges
' Sofas, Spring Beds, Chairs, Etc.,
Always on band or made to order on ths shortest
notice.
Furniture repaired expeditiously and at fair rates.
slarsm axel VMtory na , "trat atrset,
aasav soaaiwr'a mv-jt -'
Albany, Fsb. 38, 187-a5. GRAF COLLAR
FURNITURE
v A. W. GAMBLE, M. D 7
PHYSICIAN,' SURGEON, Etc.
Office on First AY., over Weed's Grocery Store'
Residence opposite late residence of John C. Men
den hall, near the Foundry, First street, Albany.
October 21. 1878.
Webfoot M arketr
CHARLES WILSON
Having leased tbe Webfoot Market, on First street,
adjoining Orsdwohl's, respectfully asks a "bare or
the public patronsge. The market will be kept con
stantly supplied with aU kinds of fresh meats. Calk
and see.
ttr- me highest cash price paid for Hides.
CHA8LES WlISOX.
Albany, August 14, 1874. .
W. H. HlcFarland,
(Late M. M. Harvey ft Co.,) .
Next Door to Conner's Bank,
ALBANY, OREGON.
STOVES, RANGES,
Force and Lift Pumps,
Lead and Iron Pipe,
Hollow Ware,
House Furnishing Hardware,
Tin, Copper I Sheet Iron Ware.
LARGEST STOCK IN THE VALLEY
LOWEST PRICES EVERT TIME.
REPAIRING PROMPTLY DONE.
June 11, 1874.
ALBANY
Fonnflr? end MacMie
A. F. CHERRY, Proprietor,
ALBANY, OREGON,
Manufactures
Steam Engines
Flour and Saw Mill Machinery,
Wool-Worlting & Aricnltnral MacMnery.
And all kinds of j
Iron and Brass Castings.
Particular attention .'lid to repairing all kinds of "
machinery. 41v3
A. CAROTHERS & C(W
DEALERS IK
Drugs, Chemicals
Oils, Paints,
Dyes, Class,
Lamps, Etc..
AU the popular
PATENT MEDICINES,
JBU-N1S UUTXiEttr,
CIGARS, TOBACCO,
NOTIONS, PERFUMERY,
And TOILET GOODS-
Particular care and promptness aiven physicians'
prescriptions and family recipe.
A. SS UM.
Albany, Oreson. 4vB
GQ.TO THE
BEE-HIVE STORll
-TO BUY -
Groceries,
Provisions,
Notions,
&c, &c.f &c,
Cheap for Cash.
r
Donntry Produce of All Kinds Bonjtbf:
For Merchandise or Cash.
This is the p'ac to get the
Best Bargains Erer Offered In Albany.
Parties will always do well to call and sre for them
selves. H. WEED.
First Street, Albany,
82v0
Oregon.
V
tDflLJID
MEXICAN
Mustang Liniment
Was first known in America. Its aoerlts are now .
well known throughout the habitable world. It has
ths oldest and best record of any Liniment In tbe ,
world. From the millions upon millions of bottles
sold not a single complaint bas ever rsaoosd us. As .
a ueaung ana rain-Buuamng Linimout it bas no
equal. It ia alike
BENEFICIAL TO MAX AND BEAST.
Sold by all Druggist.
S.T.--I
Y" OLD
Homestead Tonic:
Plantation Bitters
Is
Preparation, composed of "
Calisava Bark, Boom, tierus sua rrani, imuui
iS,iK -ni he found BarssparUlian, Dandelion, Wild
Cberry"bssssfras, Tansy, Osntlsn, Bwsst Msg, etc.;
also Tamarinds, Dates, Prunes snd Juniper Berries,
sreservedin a Vufflcisn quantity (only) of thsspirit
offmsar Cans to keep in say elimsto. Tbey In vari- .
n.v- ud cure ths following complaints
nvanmaia Jaundice, Liver Complaints, Loss of
aXoeUte Heedsche, Bilious Attack., Fever and
Summer Complaints, Hour Stomach. Palplta-
ttZn of ths Heart, Uenerai ueoiniy. eio.
especially adapted sa a remedy for the
They are
diseases to
WOMEN
Are subtected ; and as a tonic for tbe Aged. Feeble
and Debilitated, have no equal. They are strictly in
tended as a Tempsrsnos Tonic or Bitters, to be
M a medicine only, and always aooording to
direoilons.
Sold by all Fib st-C lass Dkcooists