TUK UAOIC HAHH.
BI OONBTAKTIHA . BKOOXJi.
I Mt in the winter twilight, 1 " ' '
The red in the west burned low.
And the redder light of the Mazing log
Streamed out rm the drifted enow, V
And I thought of the olden story
: The harp of long ago. , . "t
'When Ita string were touched, cams only
A note like a half-said wordj
Bnt sudden awaked by that sound
A strain responsive stirred ;
.Above, below, on every side.
Grand harmonies were heard. " -"
A deep low musio sweeping up
The sea surf on the ledge;
A soft sweet mnsic breathing down '
The night-breeze in the sedge ;
A lond shriM xnuHto whistling through
The pines on the mountain edge.
But only he who touched the strings
Could Ut-ar those ehords profound ; :
All others heard the faint low note
And the alienee dumb around.
And they said, " tin but an idle, toy
This harp so poor of sound.'
1 thought 'tis the heart of the poet
This harp of olden time ;
The grandest song he sings is but
A poor half spoken rhyme,
Hut he hears respondent everywhere
A harmony sublime.
Tor day and night forever
la sounding in bis ears
The mystery or the universe
The marvel of the spheres
All chords and discords blend and make
The raptures of the years.
And day and night forever
He strives, and strives in vain.
To breath the passion of his heart
The phantom of his brain ; i
To utter forth in tongues of time .
The grand eternal strain.
MISS ERISM'S CODICIL.
Miss Rebecca Eriam, a . valetudinarian
of sixty, lay dying at her house in town.
She had held so tenacious a imp upon
life that it was difficult for the two young
people to realize the end was so near.
These two young people were Gerald
Erism, her nephew, and Miss Luane
Williams, her companion and nurse.
Gerald had seen the young woman
very day for the three years, she had
lived with his aunt, but never until this
moment had bestowed a serious thought
upon her. He did not even know the
color of her eyes till his aunt gasped out
a sentence that caused him to' look at her
attentively. Then he found them shin
ing luminously in the somber gloom of
the sick chamber, and something therein
forbade him to hate her, although the
sentence his aunt had uttered was to the
effect that she had left Miss Williams all
Jher money.
"If vou expect to pay for that horse
for Emily Thorpe to ride with the money
you get yy my: death," said the dying
woman, "you're mistaken."
You don 't understand, " I egan Gerald.
" It was an infamous transaction," said
the old lady, "and what I call a post
obit. I found out enough about it to
make me put a codicil to my wilL That
rascally horse dealer'fl loose his money
after all, and Emily Thorpe shall flaunt
none of her finery- at my expense. I've
left my money to Xinane Williams !'
It was then tliat Gerald looked at
Luane ; but his aunt suddenly stretched
out her hands to him pleadingly, and
finding a gray pallor spreading over her
face, he knelt down by her bedside and
took her cold withered hand in his own.
" If the horse had . been for any one
tout that Emily Thorpe t" faltered the
-Door old lad v. U ,
"Oh, aunt," said Gerald, "if you'dj
let me explain
" I would if I had time," she said ;
' but I must die now."
In ten minutes it was all over, and
Gerald went out of the house with a great
ache at his heart. He was very sorry for
his aunt ; she had been very . kind to
him too kind, for she had reared him
for the useless life of a drone, when new
it appeared he must work for 'his living
like all the rest of Che bees. It had
hitherto been something of a bore to him
merely to spend money, and the fact
began to dawn unpleasantly upon his
mind that to earn it must be infinitely
more wearisome. . . .
Walking aimlessly on, his feet took
mechanically a familiar direction, aad he
found himself pausing before a fine
house in a fashionable quarter of the
city, from which shambled a somewhat
bent and awkward figure that presently
disappeared in a brougham before the
loor. . : , -: '
Gerald recognized the man as Mr.
!Badger, the millionaire, and involun
tarily contrasted his condition, with mat
of the fortunate soap dealer, tie was,
however, so absorbed with the direful
news ho had to tell Emily that before
she came into the parlor he had forgot
ten tSadser s existence.
It was singular that her remarkable
lbeauty and brilliant toilet did not appall
Gerald at that moment ;- that the fact of
his no longer being able, to grace that
lovely hand with befitting gems did not
prevent him from seizing it in both his
own. and kissing it rapturously. But
for an enchanting moment ha was al
lowed to forget the gloomy chamber
-where his aunt lay dead, and the woman
-who waited there for the money he had
"been taught to consider his own.
"It seems to me that you are very
beautiful this morning," was all that he
xmld say. V
Emily drew her hand gently away
xrom niB caress.
" Gerald,' she said, "I have some
thing to tell you.'
Her accent - was cold. There was
something in her manner that caused
him to step- back and look at her with a
dim premonition oi what was to come.
"You know," she continued, "how
bitterly opposed is your aunt to your af
fection for me. She has told me herself
that she will never consent to our happi
ness. Gerald, I am too fond of yon to
-wreck your whole life. There was but
one way to end it all "
She paused. 1 He leaned forward, and
still kept his eye, now wan and haggard,
vrpon her face. Then she Bank pale and
trembling into a chair, and covered her
eyes with her hand. She was moved with
pity, perhaps, or a vague regret. At last
ahe spoke. v 7" '-' '"'u
" I have just accepted an offer of mar
riage." - -
From " Badger," cried, Gerald, and
walked to the door. " Tour prudence,"
he added, standing upon the threshold,
" has served you well. You have just got
rid of me lntime. u aamaiea cms
morning, and has left everything to hex
nurse and companion. ' ..'
Then he got into the street, and walked
Along with a faltering, staggering step.
Wis eve were wild, his fan iividlv Tale.
People turned to look at him as he went
try, and two or three wondered wnat was
winding that man to the &emL v -
' He went home and stood try th body
of his aunt. There was a single fascina
tion about 'this death something very
wonderful and tempting u nas mysteri
ous and absolute rest Sufldenly he be
came master of himself. Of the bitterness
and despair of the moment. He walked
firmly to the door, but astep' followed
mm, and, turning, ne saw ewe pw, pwr
tnrbed face of Miss Winms: Then he
remembered bar rweaenM inta room.
but his madness and grief fcuad preveated
him from realizing it. ' "!f ' '
- Just one word. -Mr. Erssra. she said.
f 'Of oourro you knew thatrwiM not toach
one penny of this money! - ' 1
"It doesn't matter now;" 'he replied.
" It might as well be yours . as any
body'sT -- '-:' !
"But it is yours," she said.- '
"Oh, as for me," said Gerald, "I
shall not want it. " He walked through
the hall. Miss Williams followed him
stealthily. . He entered the room, but
when the door shut him in Luano re
mained, haggard and trembling, her ear
glued to the cold panel between them.
A grim silence reigned about her. She
could hear the clock tick in the dead wo
man's room below, i Suddenly she put
both her hands about the knob and
opened the door. Gerald turned quickly ;
there was an ominous click ; the pistol
fell a little as it went off. The blood
soaked through his coat and trickled out
upon the floor. . Just as Liuane was about
sinking at his feet, Gerald put out his
hand to her.
" An accident, Miss Williams," he
said. "Please send Adams for the doctor,
and then help me off with my coat."
This brought Liuane to herself. She
hastened to do his bidding, dispatched
Adams, and returning again to Gerald,
stanched the blood with strips of the pillow-case
from a bed. When the doctor
came she held the light for him while
he probed the wound and extracted the
bullet.
" An inch or so higher," said the doc
tor, " and you would have been buried
on the same day with your aunt."
" It was a lucky thing, then, that Miss
Williams had an errand to my room
when she did," said Gerald. "As she
opened the door my hand fell and the
pistol went off."
" She has unconsciously saved your
life," said the Doctor. Then as Luane
left the room he added, " She's the finest
young woman I know, and would make a
capital nurse in my hospital. Do you
know what she tliinka of doing now that
your aunt is gone ?"
" No," said Gerald, with a grim smile;
" but I fancy she'll think of something
livelier than that."
" She has such an excellent ' physique
and splendid nerve," said the doctor.
" But I must go. Keep as quiet as you
can, and have Adams within call."
That night Gerald awoke with an in
tolerable thirst ; his temples throbbed,
his eyes burned. Looking over at Adams,
he found that he was sound asleep. This
of itself was offensive to Gerald. What
business had the man to sleep when he
was suffering ? How terribly oppressive
the stillness was, this semi-darkness and
loneliness ! At that moment a ponderous
snore resounded from the throat of the
study Adams, and Gerald almost leaped
from his bed. It was like a stab to him ;
it was unendurable. He stretched over
his Bound arm, and reaching a pillow, :
threw it with all his might at the uncon
scious Adams. But in spite of the agony
the movement cost him, it was a futile
one. The pillow fell far short of the ob
ject on the floor, and Gerald sank back
with a groan.
But suddenly the soft touch of a
woman's hand fell tenderly upon his
forehead, the sweet tones of a woman's
voice fell soothingly upon his ear.
"It is time for your medicine," said
Liuane, and put the cup to his hps.
Gerald drank as if it was nectar. Then
she arranged his pillows for him, and was
about retreating from the room when he
faintly called for a drink. Then he
thought his head was too high, or per
haps a trifle low ; every movement
caused him intolerable agony, and he
hated to be alone with Adams again.
Besides he was curious about this woman.
She must have really divined his motive,
and come to him to save his life. , She
was again about to leave him, but he put
his hand upon hers to detain her, and
found that it trembled a little beneath
his touch.
" Your hand didn't tremble when you
held the lamp for the doctor," said Ger
ald. " He wants yon for a hospital
nurse, but I told him you'd prefer some
thing more cheerful."
"Why, I think I'd like it," said Lu
ane. " You know I must do something."
"I don't see the necessity," said Ger
ald ; "you have my aunt's money, and
it will occupy all your time to enjoy it."
" Your aunt's money is your own,"
said Luane, "and you insult me by
thinking I would take advantage of a
poor old lady's weakness ; I never will
touch a penny of it. And, Mr. Erism,
you must not talk. " !
"One word, only one," pleaded Ger
ald. " But for you I might have been
like like our poor old friend below."
Gerald shuddered and turned pale. " I
am cowardly enough," he went on, "to
hate even the thought of it now. How
can I thank you, Miss Williams ?"
"By taking what is your own, and
using it nobly . and : well," said Luane,
and vanished from his sight.
But as she left him he felt a sudden
throb in the hand beneath his own, and
saw a quick flame leap into her cheek, a
glow to her eyes.
" Three long years," murmured Ger
ald, " and I never knew her till now."
Gerald was young and strong, and the
fourth day, the one appointed for the
funeral, he was able to be up and dressed,
and welcomed Luane warmly as she en
tered his room. She looked paler than
ever in her black dress, . but Gerald
thought he never had seen so sweet and
noble a face.
" " How I would like to go down, Miss
Williams," he said, " and enjoy the sur
prise of the good people below I I'd
like to see them bow and smile to the
heiress of my aunt's fortune. I'm as
bad as the rest of them, I suppose, for I
feel like making all sorts of pretty
speeches."- Gerald paused, and his face
grew suddenly grave and tender. . " Go
now," he added, " and kiss my aunt
good-by for me ; tell her I am quite
satisfied with everything."
x Luane went from the .room and down
the stairs. For the last three days she
had been like one in a dream. It seemed
awful to be warm and happy even after
she entered- the dark, gloomy drawing
room, even after she had bent and kissed
the oold, stern face for Gerald and for
herself. ..-.-(
I will not take it," she whispered,
hot tears raining on the dead woman's
face " I will not take a cent of it, but it
has given me such a gleam of happiness.
God forever bless you for it."
-Then the people began to bout in. and
the ceremony commenced. Loane's ware
the only tears that were shed, and the
most of the guests came from civility or
curiosity. Miss Erism had . taken but
little active part in the world for many a
year, and the poor- lady was very soon
put away and forgotten. .-!; .;-
The most important part of the pro
ceedings was when they returned from
the burial to hear the reading of the wilL
-. Luane trembled when : the pompous
lawyer unrolled the parchment, and be
gan in a sonorous voice : " In the name
of God, amen 1" -- t-.s- . Vt. - ..-h ?
What would they think of her what
would they say of -her? Oh; how glad
she was that the only one she oared for
in the world knew all about it I How in
nocent she was, and how ignorant ! ; '
- But even while she thought thus she
heard the lawyer read: " To my beloved
nephew; Gerald Erism, I give and be
queath," my property, personal and
otherwise.' Luane could scarcely be
hove her ears. She listened to the end;
and heard at last: " To Luane Williams,
my faithful nurse, I give a mourning
ring and the sum of $50. "
Then she went up stairs to Gerald.
"The King shall have his own!" she
said.
" Only on one condition," said Gerald.
" IH take your money only on one con
dition." " You'll take my money ?" echoed
Luane " my poor little fifty dollars ?"
Luane's face shone with a profound joy.
" Your aunt left her money where it be
longe, Mr. Erism. I have just heard you
declared her sole surviving heir."
Gerald remained stunned and be
wildered. "Where is the codicil ?" he cried to the
lawyer, who stood at the door. " My
aunt left her money to Miss Williams.
She told me so when she was dying t"
" Oh, that was when you bought the
horse ! I was afraid there would be
trouble then ; but, bless your soul, she
got all over that."
" And the . money is mine ?" cried
Gerald. - f
" Of course it's yours," and the lawyer
went down the stairs chuckling at his in
credulity. Then Gerald held out his. hands to
Luane. v ' ;
" I was going to ; be magnanimous
eneugh to marry you despite your
money," he said ; " now there is no ob
stacle to our happiness. Come, my sweet
Luane, and bless the life you have given
me!"
Luane became his wife. Mrs. Grundy
said that he married her to spite Emily
Thorpe. The lawyer chuckled still
more, and thought of the codicil. But
we know that it was love, and for love
alone.
The Rival Babies.
TJncle Luther Beecher's grand co
operative baby-show, which was to have
been one of the features of the poultry
and dog exposition at Young Men s Hall,
is not visible to the naked eye as yet, but
it came very near- making a start on Sat
urday afternoon. Two women with
babies entered the parlor set aside for
the little popsey-wopseys, and taking
seats on opposite sides of the room, pro
ceeded to stare at each other coldly and
suspiciously. One was a tall female with
auburn hair, and the other was a little
lump of a woman with very black eyes
and a determined look. -Although they ;
were alone in the room, neither spoke,
but they commenced to unpack their
offspring. The auburn-haired lady finally
produced from the midst of innumerable
wrappings a pale, scrawny-looking infant,
wearing considerable gold chain and an
expression of settled melancholy. The
other baby was a chip of the old block,
so to speak a corpulent cherub, with
puffy cheeks and big eyes, who pro
ceeded to suck its fat thumbs with much
composure. . '
The silence was becoming oppressive
when the tall woman broke it. She re
marked with affected solicitude :
" What is the matter with your baby,
mum ? the poor little thing looks quite
unwell."
The little woman's black eye's snapped,
but she answered with forced composure:
" Minerva Geraldine was never nick a
day in her life, madam, and she is six
teen months and ten days old. Has your
little one been ailing long ?"
The tall woman's hair began to raise
up, but she pretended to be looking to
see where the pin was pricking her sad
faced babe, and made no reply. Present
ly she wound the infant's gold chain
around her finger in an abstracted man
ner, so that the other woman would see it.
The rival mother produced a coral
necklace with a blue locket, and care
lessly clasped it about Minerva Geral
dine s neck.
Then the other, in tones of alarm, ex
claimed, "Why, Alphonso, have yon
lost your little gold ring?" Alphonso,
who was about . thirteen months old,
vouchsafed no reply, but only looked
sad, and bis mother, after a brief search,
produced the ring from a needle-case,
and, with a glance of triumph, forced it
on his finger.
The little woman was pale, but com
pressed her hps with stern determination.
Reaching down . into her basket she
brought out a silver mug and a wax doll
with real hair. She trembled with excite
ment, for she had shown her full hand.
She won ; the silver mug settled it. :
" Did you intend to put that over
grown monstrosity on exhibition here ?"
inquired the firy-headed female, glaring
wildly at her rival. i
" Why don't you hire out your living
skeleton to a side-show ?" screamed the
little woman, her eyes snapping with
rage.
"Woman!" i
"Creature!" i
It looked as if there might be blood
shed, and a humane reporter, who had
overheard the wrangle, rushed in to
interfere.
" Is my little darling a monstrosity ?"
"Is my Alphonso a living skeleton ?"
Both interrogations rang out simul
taneously with a shrillness that drowned
the yelping of the canines, and the crow
ing of the prize roosters in the next
apartment, . j
" Ladies," said he, with an expression
jl great solicitude, : "they are both
angels. But for heaven's sake do not
detain me, for I have just been exposed
to the scarlet fev " i -
And each exasperated female clutched
up her baby . and nursing-bottle and
basket and bounced out. He was alone.
Detroit Post. 4 . .- -
. Informal People.
Preserve us from unceremonious peo
ple those men and women who V never
stand on ceremony "who are always
perfectly at home in other people's
houses i Society has manypests, but few
so intolerable as they, j " Free and easy"
visitors are most thoroughly disagree
able. They will inflict themselves upon
you at any time, and expect to be always
cordially welcomed because they are so
free and easy and so loth to put anybody
to trouble. They iWill come before
breakfast, or just as you are sitting down
to dinner, and draw up their chairs quite
like one of the family. Early in the
morning they delight to "run , in," and
they will come right up to your chamber
to save you the trouble of coming down,
and there they, will sit and watch you
make your toilet, and comment on how
gray your hair is getting, and wonder if
you are not a great deal stouter and red
der in the face than you used to be.
They will hunt over jyour writing-desk
for note-paper ; bathe their faces with
your cologne-water, ; and ' scent their
handkerchiefs with the contents of your
choicest perfumery bottle. - They are
always ready for luncheon " You know
I'm too much at home in your house to
go hungry, my dear,' and any stray
confectionery lying about melts before
them as dew before the sun. ' They make
no scruple of borrowing' your latest
magazines and novels ; even your wardrobe-does
not escape their encroach
ments ; and all ' this insolence is cloaked
by some such empty remark as this; "J.
never stand on ceremony, but make' my
self at home everywhere, so don't1 'pai
yourself oat to entertain mel" ' Again
we pray, preserve us from unceremonious
people t ..v jx-v-r-
State and United States Taxation.
The St. Louis Mcpublican has pub
lished some interesting figures on the
relative cost of the State , and the general-governments.
It takes, for purposes
of comparison, the three large States of
New York, Pennsylvania,' and Illinois,
the three middle-sized States of Michi
gan, Wisconsin and Missouri, and three
other States, Kansas, Texas, and Ala
bama. The adjectives refer, of course,
to the population and wealth of each.
Some of the figures are merely estimates.
Thus Pennsylvania collects her State
revenues by indirect taxation, so that the
rate per capita and per $100 must be cal
culated, i
Of the three large States, New York
levies T2 cents on the $100 for State
purposes, or $3.75 per capita ; Pennsyl
vania charges 45 cents on the $100, or
$1.80 per head, and Illinois rates are a
trifle less than 60 cents on the $100, or
$2.23 per head, for State purposes alone.
The taxation in the middle-sized States
varies as follows :
Per per
States. i 11K). capita.
Wisconsin --. SO $1.80
Michigan 6f 1.80
Mtosourl,.. .60 1.90
A similar table for the three other
States would read thus : I
: ' i " Ptr"Frr
States. i $100. capita.
Kansas : 80 $2.20
Texas.... , 60 l.5
Alabama 70 1.17
These nine States fairly represent the
average of the whole Union. The aver
age rate of State taxation is, then, abou
62 1 cents on the $100, or $2 per capita.
The taxes levied bv the national govern
ment amounted, in 1868, to $2.50 per
$100, or $9.25 per capita, and in 1874 to
$2 per $100, or $7 per capita.
It appears, then, that United States
taxes, despite the recent 3eduction, are
still 3J times as much per $100 and per
capita as the State taxes. : But the local
tax of each State far exceeds those levied
for State purposes, and hence the com
parison with Federal taxation is deceptive.
The general government has an army and
navy, a postoffice, an enormous pension
list, and rivers and harbors, public
buildings, diplomatic service, Indian an
nuities, national judiciary, Congress and
miscellaneous things to support, and a
great debt upon which to pay interest ;
but the States have also, many of them,
heavy debts, and they, too, maintain very
costly reformatory, penal, charitable and
school systems, which cost the Federal
government nothing.
These figures show that a great field
for economy still exists in the States an
well as at Washington. . Legislatures and
Congress must stop extravagant appro
priations, must keep clear of swmdling
subsidies and jobs, and must keep down
taxation instead of increasing it. Even
such a galled jade as the American tax
payer will sometimes wince. Chicago
Tribune
Last Call for Charlie Rons.
Still no tidings of the j child Charlie
Boss. And now that the hapless parents,
the wealthy relatives, the ! sympathizing
citizens, the municipal officials, and the
keen-scented detectives, have apparently
exhausted their means of reaching the
heartless wretches who snatched the ht
tls one almost literally from its mother's
arms and bore it away into biding, the
strong arm of the commonwealth is about
to be stretched out in an exceptionally
powerf ul way to put an end to this con
tinuing crime against' society and the hu
man heart. j
To whom it may concern .' Kidnap
per and their abettors ! The Legisla
ture of the great State of Pennsylvania
is in the act of passing a bill containing
the severe penalties of fifteen years' im
prisonment and $10,000 fine, to be
imposed upon each and j every person
who 'shall continue to conceal, or' have
any knowledge of the concealment of
this or any other child. In order, how
ever, that the kidnapper, or kidnappers,
or those who abet them by refusing to
give information of, the whereabouts of
the child, may have a little grace left
them, the act of Assembly will' contain a
clause which will free the guilty parties
from the consequences of their criminal
conduct, if they atone and make restitu
tion or give information! of the child
within thirty days from the time the bill
passes.
You people need not lay the flattering
unction to your souls that this act is what
the lawyers call an er poet facto law, for
it will require no fee to be paid to the
best lawyer in the land to ! give you the
honest advice that the crime of conceal
ment is a continuing one, and will attach
the moment the act is passed, and be
punishable after thirty days have elapsed,
unless the child, is given up. Philadel
phia Prcse.
An Itinerant Fbih-Hook-U.lt ' oes All
Over a Boy
We find the following in the Dover (N.
H.) Enquirer . Some eight years ago a
lad of 13, a son of Charles E. Myers, a
well-known citizen of Portsmouth, while
fishing from one of the wharves of that
city caught a fish-hook in! the forefinger
of the right hand near the roots of the
Bail, drawing it into the bend of the
hook. His father saw at oaoe that the
only thing to be done was to open the
finger on a line with the hook and take it
out, put preferred to call in their family
physician to do it. After looking at it
for a moment, the doctor, by a sudden
twist, wrenched the hook from the finger,
minus the barb and point. The parents
were justly indignant at such rough treat
ment, and insisted that the hook was not
all removed, while the boy came near
fainting from extreme anguish. The
doctcr, however, insisted that no incon
venience would result, and dressed the
finger in some simple and safe manner,
and in due time the wound healed. But
the finger and arm troubled him for a
long time. After a year or two the lad's
health had so far failed as to become a
subject of. serious alarm to his friends,
he being subject to frequent and alarm
ing fainting fits and other spasmodic af
fections or symptoms, t This state of
affairs continued for years! with more in
tensity until a year or two ago, when- the
boy's health became nearly or quite re
stored. ; In the spring of 1874 the young
man, while dressing himself one morning,
tore a pimple from his left shoulder, and
on examining it he drew from the flesh
the point of the hook which seven years
before was imbedded in a finger on the
opposite side of his body, j ..,
As Eastern newspaper finds fault with
a Connecticut Congressman on the ground
that he has been seven years in Congress
and has never once made a speech. By
all means let Connecticut reward him by
sending him to the Senate. A man who
can pass seven years in Congress, busily
attending to his duties, and preferring to
do the actual hard work jof the House
rather ; than to , bore v the public with
Speeches, is a pattern to oiir public men.
To; know that the member in question
has never made a speech in Congress is
to know that he is at least wise enough
to abstain, from xnaldog himself a nois-
SMMW, ' ' -
THE GREAT EXPRESS R0BBEKY.
About SOQ.OOO Stolen How the Job wm l
Kxeoutod.
From the New York Herald.
Superintendent Walling and the de
tectives were engaged yesterday in hunt
ing up the details of the recent robbery
committed on the Adams Express Com
pany. Three men, Daniel Hovey, a
driver, John Sweeney, a clerk, and James
Drew, said to be implicated in the theft,
are now in confinement at the central
office, and the police are endeavoring to
obtain from them information that will
lead to the recovery of all the property
taken. The robbery is said to have been
committed on Sunday, the 24th ult, and
the amount taken in the neighborhood of
$200,000. On that day Hovey and
Sweeney went to Jersey City to take
charge of some safes containing bonds
and money 'packages that had , arrived
there from the country. The express
agent who had accompanied the safes on
the train handed them over to these men.
There were in all nineteen boxes, and
they were supposed to contain packages
of money and other valuables sent from
the various agencies throughout the
Southern States to the central office in
this city. One of these boxes was placed
in charge of the agent at Richmond, Ya.,
and he in turn transferred it with the
others to Hovey and Sweeney, and the
supposition is that it was given by them
to the man Drew on the way from Jersey
City to New York, as it was not delivered
at its proper destination with the other
safes. Hovey signed the agent's receipt
book at Jersey City for nineteen safes,
and obtained a receipt in his own book at
the office in New York for the same num
ber, although it was afterward discovered
that he had only delivered eighteen.
He managed to receive the receipt from
Mr. Sullivan,' who was in charge of the
receiving department at the central office,
counting one of the boxes twice over.
In the hurry of business Mr. Sullivan
did not detect the deception, but was
enabled to throw the immediate responsi
bility from himself. On the following
Monday morning, when it was discov
ered that the safe from. Richmond was
not in the receiving vault, a search was
instantly instituted, but no trace of ,the
missing box could be found. Hovey
stoutly maintained he had delivered it at
the office, and presented his receipt book
in proof of his correctness. The agent
at Jersey City was satisfied he had passed
it over with the others, and so the matter
rested, the case causing the greatest con
sternation and mystery among all those
employed at the office.
Many exaggerated stories have been
put into circulation about the amount
contained in the lost safe, but it is almost
certain it held no more than $200,000;
much of this was in securities that can
not now be put upon the market, and of
course are of no value to the thieves.
Rational Banks.
The reports of the condition of the
national banks of the country, for the
year ending Doc. 31, 1874, have been re
ceived at the Treasury Department, and
the full report has just been completed.
The total number of banks was 2,027;
their resouroes and liabilities were as
follows:
BHSOUBCB8.
Loans and discounts t 990,894,978
Overdrafts 4,9b-i,419 35
United States bonds to secure de
posits 14,71,000 00
United States bonds on hand 15,-2U0,300 00
Other stocks, bonds, and mortgages. 28,313,473 12
Pue from redeeming and revenue
agante 80,488,831 45
Due from other national banks 48,079,1-23 HI
Due from State banks and bankers . . 11,6S,178 11
Real estate, furniture, and fixtures. 39,190,683 04
Current expenses 6,670,506 47
Premiums paid . , 8,630,113 16
Checks and other cash Herns 14,0-26,119 64
Exchanges for clearing-house.... ... 11,399,135 55
Bills of other national banks. 32,508,036 00
Bills of State banks 34,300 00
Fractional currency 2,393,182 74
Specie 22,436,761 04
Legal-tender notes 82,711,791 00
United State oertinoates of deposit
for legal-tender notes. 33,523,000 00
Five per cent, redemption fund 16,835,063 90
Dn from United States Treasurer,
other than 5 per cent, redemption .
fund 4,108,020 46
Total $1,902,408,455 46
t.T. wxi.rnRB,
Capital stock paid in $ 495,802,481 00
Surplus fund 130,485,641 37
Undivided profits.. .. . . 1. 51,477.629 33
National bank notes outstanding 331,193,159 00
State bank notes outstanding. 850,755 00
Dividends paid 6,088,846 01
Individual deposits .:. , 682,855,066 45
United States deposits 7.492,307 48
Deposits of United States disbursing
officers..... 8,579,72294
Due to national banks U 129,190,276 36
Dne to State banks and bankers 51.627,997 42
Notes and bills. rodiscounted 6,805,652 97
Bills payable 5,398,900 83
Total .$1,902,408,455 46
Wholesale Murder of Babies.
As has been briefly announced by tele
graph, an aged couple, named Nelson
and Mary fteignolds, were arrested a few
days since on a charge of murdering nve
young children at a baby-farming estab
lishment at Mollis ter, Middlesex county,
Mass. The ; Springfield Hcpublican
says the business of the old couple has
been known for a long time, and they
have had charge of 200 children during
the past three years, by their own admis
sion, most of them being illegitimate.
Iiegular physicians have visited the es
tablishment from time to time, and every
thing was supposed to be all right until
within a few weeks, but a growing sus
picion that great cruelty and perhaps
murder outright was perpetrated has
been confirmed by an employe (Miss
Mary Colby) of the old woman Reign
olds. She says that laudanum has been
used to carry off the babies, and that the
crimes have been concealed in at least
three cases by withholding notices of
the death from the Town Clerk. Another
witness . (Miss , Shebon) confirms . this
story, and even furnishes a bottle con
taining the poison from which she says
doses have been given ' to the children.
Most of the criminal work is said to have
been done br the woman, but Mr.
Beignolds doubtless knew what was go
ing on. When arrested, the old couple
denied the charge of murder, and de
clared that the substance they gave the
children was . a mixture of laudanum,
sweet tincture of rhubarb and camphor,
which had been prescribed by physi
cians. '. . j "., - . . ,;,!,.;, '
A Bright Woman. : ' ';"
The presence of mind and prompt
courage of women need never hereafter
be doubted, since Mrs. Church, of New
ark, has so conspicuously demonstrated
her possession . of those qualities. She
was sued by a sexton, who had slipped
and broken his leg. while holding her
horses, for the value of the leg. The
sexton obtained a verdict in which : his
leg was estimated to be worth $2,000,
which sum Mrs. Church will be expected
to pay. Now, mark the manner in which
that astute woman received the news of
the verdict. Instead of . bursting into
tears and insisting that she never would
pay the extortionate sexton for his gross
ly over-valued leg, she quietly went out
into the street, selected a nice icy bit of
pavement, and, gracefully, falling down,
broke her arm. Of course she will sue
the city of Newark for the value of that
arm, and, of course, no jury will esti
mate it at a higher rate than the sexton's
leg. Indeed, she will probably make a
handsome profit out of the affair, besides
demonstrating that her sex is capable of
the . brilliant feats of t legal strategy.
New York WorUU - ,' , .,
The Secret of the Potato Disease.
tLyman Beed, of Boston, In Kevr York lodger. J
Prof, de Bary, of Strasburg, the in
vestigators in France, Rev. J. M. Berk
ley, and other scientists of England, and
many in America, have labored diligently
during a period of thirty years, to dis
cover the origin and true cause of this
malady. The utmost they have discov
ered by their researches and experiments,
is, that "fungus" is found, upon the
vines ; and their theory is that disease
originates from this parasitical growth,
and that from its attack and continued
presence, rust in the vines and rot in the
tubers follows.
The idea that fungus originates the
potato disease is a fallacy. The fungi
never start spontaneously from a healthy
plant or substance. They are exhalations
from a purelent, morbid condition of the
plant or substance from which they start
and derive their nourishment. - Fungus
is a consequence and not the cause of
the disease.
My experiments and miscroscopic ex
aminations of the potato reveal wonder
ful inherent substances eggs of insects
developing organisms never described
by entomologists as connected with the
potato, nor referred to in any of the early
or later scientific investigations. They
have entirely overlooked the hidden
enemy, the secret source, where and froia
whence the potato disease originates. I
furnish the following facts : For years
past I have taken different varieties of
potatoes, washed, and actually scrubbed
them thoroughlv with a stux brush.
These potatoes being subsequently sub-
mitted to the element of warmth same as j
when planted develop, after a few
weeks, myriads of living microscopic
(larvai) insects. The epidermis of the.,
tuber, examined with the microscope, show
at this time the eggs of the insects ; also
their embryonic state in various stages
of development. They appear to be pro
tected by a gluten until warmth and
moisture dissolve the adhesive substance
which first fastened them to the epider
mis. Myriads of this larvse come into
existence from the potatoes planted,
leave their nidus (nest), and adhere suck
torially to the roots f er subsistence,
thereby poisoning the vines and destroy
ing their vitality. Blight in the vines
and rot in the tubers follow.
Potatoes from England, Scotland, Ire
land, France, Germany, Prussia, and
other countries, all, by experiment ana
microscopic investigations, show the
same results.
Those foreign tubers contain, inher
ently, the eggs of the larvse, and the same
elementary action that develops the stalk
and roots brings to life these deadly ene
mies of the crops. "'."'.
The insects are always semi-aquatic in
this larva state, and remain during this
period of existence upon the roots and
new tubers.
Statistics from agricultural districts of
various countries show an aggregate loss
of hundreds of millions of dollars in the
potato crop annually. England reports
a loss of $200,000,000 by the potato disease
in 1872. And yet England, and all Eu
rope combined, with scientists in ento
mology and microscopy , unsurpassed,
have never traced out! the underground
rendezvous where the enemy are reserved
for their annual campaign of destruction.
Mr. Gladstone's Successor.
It is announced by cable that at the
meeting of the British Liberal party the
Marquis of Hartington was " elected "
leader. It would be more correct to say
that the Marquis of Hartington has been
chosen as the party leader in the House
of Commons. On Lord Granville de
volves the leadership of the party as a
whole, and the eldest son and heir of the
Duke of Devonshire is merely Lord
Granville's Lieutenant in the lower
house. The Bight Hon. Spencer Comp
ton Cavendish, called by courtesy Mar
quis of Hartington, has been justly desig
nated "a meritorious nobleman oi the
highest rank and of second-rate abilities. "
His election marks a temporary restora
tion of the supremacy of " the old Whig
families " in liberal politics, and suggests
a return of the state of things which
drew from the mother of George hi. the
remark, "I never could find that the
party was anything else but the Duke of
Devonshire and his son and old Horace
Walpole." With a Grower leading the
party in the House of Lords, and a
Cavendish in the House of Commons,
not to mention a numerous family party
of- Cavendishes, Levison-Gowers, Bus
sells and Wentworths having seats in the
lower house, Earl Russell will probably
get over the regret which he lately ex
pressed at having given way to Mr.
Gladstone " as the head of the Whig
Radical party of England." ATcw York
Times.
! New Grasses. ;
The Savannah (Ga.) llepublican says :
"After Gen. Sherman made his march
to the sea, all in the wide track of waste
and desolation that he made with the
tramp of his footmen and the iron feet of
his cavalry there sprung up a new and
unknown grass from the sou, which the
farmers called 'Sherman clover.' It
would grow up in the most unexpected
places, and it is said would root out Ber
muda grass ; and, as a strange similarity,
we now hear that after the JFranx-Prussian
war of 1870-71 in many districts of
France a new vegetation sprang up, evi
dently the result of the invasion. It was
believed that this vegetation would be
come acclimatized, but very few of the
-species introduced in this way appear
likely to continue to flourish. In the
departments of Loir and Lioir-et-Cher, of
163 German species at least one-half have
already disappeared, and the surviving
species diminish in vigor each year.
Scarcely five or six species appear to
manifest any tendency to become accli
matized. Con any of our naturalists ac
count for it T"
Parts is a veritable Botany Bay for
dethroned monarchs and royal pretenders
generally. The Count de Chambord is a
householder there; all the Orleans family
are residents; Prince Napoleon (Jerome)
spends most of his time there, living on
the dowry of his wife, Princess Clotude,
which Victor EmanueL her father,
prudently had settled upon herself. The
ex-Queen of Spain, erst Isabella IX, has
headquarters in - Paris, ' as well as her
mother, Christina, the Queen Dowager,
widow of Ferdinand VIL One of the
Murat family is also living on somewhat
contracted means in one of the Parisian
suburbs, and he had a hope, once - upon
a time, of going back to Naples, of which
his father, Joachim Mumt, brother-in-law
of Napoleon L, was sovereign for
some years. Last of all, just before the
close of 1874, King George, of Hanover,
and his family took np their abode in
Paris, resolved to spend the winter
there.. ' - -' 'A
Mors than a hundred murders have
been committed at Jerusalem within a
year, and not one of the murderers has
been punished. An ex-employe of. the
Onetom-House, named Said, recently at
tacked : young woman who was walk
ing along w a vineyard at , Bethlehem,
and Having put out tier eyes,' cut off
hex , ears, oeoapitated. her, took
every article of value on her pexson, and
escaped. !;, ,t, .j .,. !..,.v, ' .
MEASTJRrNO THIS BABT.
We measured Hie rlofcms baby, '
Against the cottage wall ' '
A lily grew at the threahol. -' '
And the boy was Just as taO t
A royal tiger lily, , '
With spots of purple and goMU ' .
And a heart like a Jeweled chalice,
The fragrant dew to hold.
Without, the blackbird whMled
High np in the old roof trees, ,
And to and fro at the window
The red rose rocked her bees : -And
the wee pink fists of the batsy
Were never a moment still
Snatching at shine and shadow
That danced on thalattios i
His eyes were wide as bluebells
His mouth like a flower onbtown
Two little bai feet, like fanny white
Peeped out from his snowy girra j
And we thought, with s thrill of rapes
That yet had a touch of pain.
When June rolls around with her vases.
Well measure the boy again.
Ah me ! In a darkened chamber.
With the sunshine shut away, .
Through tears that fell like bitter rsJn,
We measured our boy to-day.
And the little bare feot that were dimple ,
And sweet as a budding rose,
Lay aide by side together.
In the hush of a long repossv - -
IT..
from the dainty pillow,
The fair little face lay smiling.
With the light of heaven thereon ;
White as tne risen
oawn.
And the dear lltue nanus, uae ivmi
Dropped from rooo, lay still.
Never to snatch at the snnshina
That crept to the shrouded still.
We measured the sleeping baby,
' With riihons white as snow, f
For the shining rosewood sasksa
That waited him below.
And out of the darkened charaocr
We went, with a childless moan
To the height of the sinless angeai
Our little one has grown.
Wit and Hunor. -
Thk family jar is frequently a jug.
An unsatisfactory meat Domestic broil.
What is it which has a mouth and
never speaks, and a bed and never sleeps f
A river..
Mice iatten slow in church. They
can't live on religion any more than min
isters can. - .
A Texas damsel has sued an admirer
for breaking her nose while trying to kiss
her against her will. :
Thk Marquette Mining Journal man
has a frozen ear, frost-bitten foot and a
lame leg, and yet he is as funny and sun
shiny as the owner of six coach dogs and
a bank-book. v '
Helen was proud, " said an Indiana
widower of his last. wife, and she was a
great worker. You ought to have stood
by and see her jerk a bedstead down and
go for bugs!" , .' ' ' .
Washington Ibvtno once alluded to a
pompous person as " a great man, and, in
his own estimation, a man of great weight.
When he goes to tke West, he thinks the
East tips up." .
" I hope yon find your tea good,
gentlemen," said a bachelor housekeeper
to his guests. " Yes," replied one of the
guests, " the tea is good,, but all the
water is deuced smoky. " . v
When you see a bare-headed man fol
lowing a cow through the front gate and
tilling the air with garden implements
and profanity, you may know that his
cabbage plants have been set out.
A Southwestern journal told its read
ers that at night, " when you se the big
dipper, with the handle toward you, and
the tail of the comet in the bowl, it is
about time to go home and go to bed."
When a young man in Patagonia falls
in love with a girl, he lassoes her, drags
her home behind his horse, and that's
all the marriage ceremony neoessary.
He doesn't even have to buy the lasso.
. Afzeb a fellow Las been carrying a
young lady's glove pinned over his heart
for thirteen months no one can ' imagine
his feelings as he sees her dash by in
cutter with a clerk's arm around her.
Joixtbot " I say, waiter, which did
you put in first, the water or the spirits?"
Waiter "Whisky, sir; and you told
me fill it up." Jolliboy "Oh, that's
all right ; I haven't come to the whisky
yet." .
Thk Brooklyn Argu paragraphist told
his wife to take out her juw and . rest it
for awhile, and as the doctors gather
around his bod they look solemn, shake
their heads and whisper : " I dunno 1 I
dunno I" Detroit Pree Press. . . .
" Mr dear fellow," said an old member
of Congress to a new one, " you work too
hard on your speeches. v I often prepare
one in half an hour, and think nothing
of it." "And that's just what everybody
else thinks of it," was the reply.
At a public gathering lately one of
the gentlemen was called upon for a
speech, and this is how he responded :
"Gentlemen and women, I ain't no
epeecher. More'n twenty years back I
came here a poor idiot boy, and now what
are It"
Business is lively in St. Louis. A dry
goods merchant there, in a fit of somnam
bulism, arose from his couch, neatly cut
the bed-quilt in two with his pockets
scissors, and then asked his terrified wife
if he could not show her something else.
A Kansas farmer purchased a revolver
for his wife, and insisted on target prac
tice so that she could daf end the house
in case of his absence. After the bullet
was dug out of his leg, and the cow buried,
he said he guessed she'd better shoot
with an ax.
On a Detroit sidewalk, the other day,
a portly man snatched at the surround
ing air for a second or two, and then
went down upon the icy bricks with a
force that shook his frame, and made him
see stars. "Say," remarked a newsboy .
to his companion who witnessed the
catastrope, "that 'ere feller's a Free
Mason; didn't you see him giving the
signs ?' Inside of a minute two boys
were getting away, closely followed by a
boot. ' '
Death from a Pen-Knife Wound.
William H. Dusenbury, a prominent
citizen of Half moon, Saratoga county,
died on Tuesday. About a week before
his death he was whittling down an old
cork. In so doing bis knife slipped and
made an incision into the fleshy, part of
his thumb. A short time afterward he
complained of an unaccountable pain.
This was succeeded by numbness in the
hand, alternating with excruciating
pains. ; The luifortunate man rapidly
grew worse until his death ooourred.
The theory of the attending physicians
is that the cork was impregnated with
poison, and that the knife in passing
through conveyed enough into the
wound to cause - death. New ' York
limes. ' " f ' V-'
Where the Wool Grows. ; V
1 The California wool : product for 187-4
was little short of 40,000,000 ' pounds,
against 31,000,000 in 1873 and 23,000,000
in 1872. Of this total, 36,000,000 was
sent out of the State, 32,000,000 by rail,
an item of no small magnitude and profit
in the traffic of the Pacific railroad. Th
exported crop returned $8,120,000, which,
is less per pound than in the previous
year, but still a good price. - !
- ' ' "-'J" i". i i i i f'V-ij,'- i.-i
, No Kbraryin the United States cost
tains over 300,000 volumes, ;iSl;;i,,a