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About The Albany register. (Albany, Or.) 1868-18?? | View Entire Issue (June 25, 1875)
nmunren itfkt rnroATj-T COLL- VAN OLEVE. ALBANY, OREGON. LOVE ' OR PRIDE t Great purple shadows swept across the bay-fields ; the distant landscape was becoming indistinct, and the moon was lowly rising in the heavens. After awhile the twilight deepened into as much of darkness as there would be in the Bummer night, and silence fell upon the earth. Then a girl stole noise lessly across a small garden, and stood beside a gate that led into the adjoining church-yard. A yew-tree spread its dark branches wide above her, but the silver tints that were slanting down upon the tall gravestones, and bring out the delicate lines of the old church spire, touched also her white face, making it whiter than usual. : She did not start as a tall figure approached from the farther side of the churchyard. She had evi dently been expecting some . one, and "when she heard the words " You are out late, Miss Jervis " . She quietly answered - " I was waiting for you ; I wanted to say good-by to . you before you went sway." , . . I thought you had done that al ready, , replied 41ie young , man wita some bitterness. . . ' Not quite," returned the girl, weari ly ; ' you were too angry for me to say m as a wi&oeo.; ' "Had I not the right to be so?" he asked. " Ever since I . have been at Shelf ord you have been deceiving me. believed you to be as earnest as I was myself, and now He paused. "And now t" .uar vwuo iuu. uinrp rang Jul it vus sua - repeated m words, as though she would give denial to what he had said ; but ber face looked like stone in the moonlight, white and immovable, as she eontiniifwl " I did not understand that you could really be in earnest, otherwise I might have told you before what I have told you to-day." " You did not . believe- in me you looked upon me as heartless as a de ceiver. You do . not believe in me now." "I do." . ""What do you believe?" he asked impetuously ; " nothing good, or you would not give me the answer you have given me." - . " Everything good, except the know ing what is good for yourself. I want you now to say good-by to me without any anger in your heart. The day will oome when you will perhaps bless me for what I have had courage to do to day." And she held out her hand. The young man hesitated. " Is there no hope?" "None." Her voice rang low and clear through the summer air. Again he hesitated, then suddenly taking both her hands in his, he bent down and kissed her for the first time. She gave a faint cry. and disengaged herself. " We part in peace." V And with these words she turned and ' fled, not looking back, or perhaps she might have repented her decision. ; Once in the house she sat down in , the empty sitting-room, made light as day by the moonbeams.- The old dog rose as she came in, and when she threw her self into a chair he laid his head in her lap. " ' ' " - ' ' " . . There came a sound of clattering of plates in the kitchen on the opposite side of the narrow passage, and her mother's voice sounded sharply, giving her directions about supper. Presently she entered. ' Where have you been. Ally f How ill you look 1 and you're all shivering ! Come iato : the kitchen, child : Anne's gone off to bed, and there's a bit of fire in the grate. ; It might be winter instead f miiinnmrnAr. to imI voiir hanfifl. . Alice rose . mechanically. She walked dreamily into the : little kitchen, where her mother drew, a chair to the fire for . her. -j,'-.::- - t Presently a ruddy, good-humored-looking youth entered, saying " Let me have my supper here, mother. The fire looits pleasant, though, it is summer time." Mrs. Jervis opened the oven door and took out a covered dish that had been kept warm there. Alice, watchirg her as she placed it on the table and laid knife and fork beside it, - instinctively roused Herself, ana taxing a jug irom the dresser went to the cellar to draw some beer for her brother. , - It was a relief to her to perform this menial service. It seemed almost an answer to the question she had been ask ing herself over and' over again since her conversation with Mr. Scrope in the morning. She was even glad that all around her looked so commonplace, so poor poorer and "commoner titan , ever to-night. ' And a bitter feeling rose in her heart and made her almost indignant that some people should be so much more favored in a worldly point of view than others. When she went to her room, instead of undreesing, she opened; the window and gazed out toward the yew-tree under which she had carted with Mr. Scrope, and then suddenly untwisting her long hair she turned to the looking-glass, not with any, feeling ol -vanity, bntin order to nna what bad so attracted mm. It was more than a handsome face that answered back her gaze, . one , which showed an amount of .. earnestness and intelligence not often met with. Of this she was no judge herself, neither of the continual change of expression! which Mr. Scrope had began bv curiouslv ob serving, and ended by being thoroughly uiwreoKw in. tie was passing the long vacation at Shelf ord, reading and fisfr ing, and had made the acquaintance of wmiam jervis o Uie bank of the river, and through him, whom it was a conde scension on the part of. Mr. . Scrope to notice, of Alice herself . " v . Alice perhaps understood1 the footing on which tney stood better than her mother, and the innate pride in her na ture caused her to accept it with reserva- . tions. " She felt the gulf between (hem and measured it by the world's standard. Therefore when Mr. Scrope made his somewhat startling offer she, in spite of her surprise, was not unprepared with her answer. . And now that she had given it, she asked Lersrlf if she had done right. ' Sir. Scrope was an only son; a brilliant future was before him a - world of which she knew nothing was familiar to him. Corr ii she, who was accustomed to the ." Liilunt-Wsa incident to circumstances sofaewLai above actual poverty, move witli y--?priety in circles accustomed to every 1 : "irj ? , Would his relatives, so far a i.1, accept her and her be lc"i" I Ll-s answered, No." Ur. tk'" 1 'S'l argued what matter since it resk-i viJx him to give her plaae and position -in the world as bis' wife? But that she knew would .be a separation for him from all former associations, and her own unfitness to move in her lover s sphere would make hex a clog .upon the life of him to whom, before she knew it. i -i i . uiie mux gfwea. ner nears. . , . Such had been the train of arcument she had pursued, and she had struggled iree xrom me prospect open to her not wimous pain, ana.naa tusmissea it as a dream of beauty that had naught to uo with wa&ing hours. . And now JJut it was over. The morninir .rose. and she went .about her tasks as usual. perhaps. even more energetically, since she needed an outlet for her pent-up, feelings. Mingled with pain there came a sense oi happiness in the knowledge of Mr. Scrope's love. r To have possessed it -nay, peruana to possess it stall ear ned her into another world, ia Which. however, she must always be alone, since au mat naa passed must lorever remain ner own especial secret. jut. ocrope went abroad; and after a time he returned home to begin his ca reer. ' Alice Jervis pursued her homely and monotonous life. She grew quieter and graver, and worked m&re diligently. She believed that she had decided rightly as regarded Mr. Scrope's happiness, and the sacrifice she' had made for his sake made her feel that she had a right to be interested in him, and she lived in the excitement of seeing his name in the pa pers and in gaining every particular of him within her grasp. " She smiled when she read his name among the presenta tions at Court or noted his presence at Court balls. , At such times she looked down at the shabby dress and the poor appointments surrounding her, and won dered what sort of an appearance she would have made in other circumstances. At length she saw another announce ment. Mr. Scrope was going to be mar ried. . She turned pale, and put down the paper. And vet she had expected this an nouncement had looked for it day after day. Nevertheless, she felt a strange pang, which as long as he was unmar ried she had escaped. JJown by the river, where the water- flags hoisted their yellow standards among the reeds, and where the forget-me-nots blossomed along the banks, she sauntered, listening to the murmuring waters, whose burden was ".fast, past, past." Even Kover appeared to under stand it, for he looked up into her face and whined. ." . The great gray bars of clouds spread across the setting sun and blotted out the sunlight; but still Alice paced up and down under the pollard windows until the evening was far advanced. Night was setting in around her; the light and life were over. She had scarcely realized until the present moment how present Mr. Scrope had been in her every thought. ' The morning after reading the news in the papers another very startling piece of information came to her She was an heiress. By one of those strange chances iu life that are so common nowadays, her mother's brother beginning life as an artisan had amassed a princely fortune. And he had left it between Alice Jervis and her brother. And Alice Jervis sat down and wept bitterly. To her it had come as a mock ery, tier lot in me was cast; wnac aiu. she want with money now i In due time she read of the marriage itself; she cut it out of the paper and placed it in her pocket-uook. . It was all over. -- in. . x v Three vears slipped away. Three travelers entered an hotel in a little for eign town. One, a beautiful woman, a little past her first youth, whom one knew in - a moment, in spite of the im provement that had taken place; but her brother was scarcely to be recognized. A; tutor and three years of foreign life had caused a marvellous transformation. The third, an elderly lady, was not much altered, excepting that her dress was handsome as heart could desire. They took their places at the table cThote, and exactly opposite to them sat a hvrty and gentleman. The latter looked wearied, and his short black moustache twitched with the curvinga of the rest less mouth beneath , it. The lady was fair, fashionable and vivacious. . Alice Jervis started. .- She would have moved, but William Jervis, all ignorant of past events, had exclaimed: Mr. Scrope !" . Mr. Scrope looked across, wondering at the friendly recognition from an ap parent stranger. Then his eye fell upon Alice and he started, but quickly recov ering himself he bowed, Baying: "Pardon me if I . did not at first remember you. " i Mrs. Scrope had turned in delight to wards William Jervis. ' ' ."The first English 'Voice, excepting my husband's, that I have heard for three weeks. I do not understand Italian and have consequently had no one to talk to but Mr. Scrope. Can you: imagine any thing more dreadful V ' Then turning to her husband she said, ' You must introduce me to your English friends." - ---- ' - " " ' : " Mrs. Scrope Mrs. and Miss Jervis," said Mr. Scrope, his look riveted on Alios." v -i - The face that had never left his mem ory in spite of his marriage, had grown to a hurher ' beauty than even he had imagined to be possible. And;' though he knew it not,' it "had come about through her striving after aa ideal that she aeemea worxny-oi nun. ' - StilliEcr the pulses that throbbed So painfully Alice conversed with him as with an old acquaintance and yet the remembrance of their 'parting on that moonlight night was vividly present to both of them.-!" - --- ,.-. ' a Mm. Sfflroue talked' inoessantly, the more especially as William Jervis was't lively talker, with a frank, half-jesting, half-deferential manner that 'had some thing very winning in it ' " ai; tm. watrhArt Mrs! Scrope nar- AUWVa.-m. iiinnileMlI 'vhT' Mr. SCTOPC ImA married her. And mstinctively the answer came, because 'he did not care very much about her, but found that the fi.riifl.iTKv vitnM ftdd Instre to his career. There was ' something paradoxical in the idea, but it passed with her. " .She had argued that, if Mf. Scrope had really cared for herself, to care, sauch for Mrs. ocrope was impossible. . So they met, and so they parted, in the little out of the wav Italian- town ; and Alios had seen Mr. Scrope once more. Was she glad or sorry t . The Scrapes returned to England the Jervises remained . abroad. And they heard nothing more of one another. IV. ' Exactly why she had oome there she could not telL It was more to gratify an old longing than for any definite reason thoturh she had persuaded herself into the belief that she had business at Shel- ford. At any rate, upon the anniversary of that day, eight years ago, when she had waited under the yew-tree to. say j good-by to Mr. Scrope, Alice Jervis stood - ,t . 1 J . it. - . A wiui tier nana oa uie wicaeir-gau), quietly reviewing her life, and once agair asking herself whether love or pride had had tile greater part in her decision. r The branches of the yews were waving gently, the roses were rustling their silver-tipped leaves, and the white moon light feu upon the graves.. Still: with her hand upon the garden gate, she looked toward the church, trying to be lieve that the years had stood still, and she was there waiting for Mr. Scrope. She was turning away when a dark figure approached her and a well-remembered voice said : .-.' "Miss Jervis!" . . " Mr. Scrope !" "Yes : I was waiting for you. I wished to see you before you went away." , Almost ner own worus m tneir last in terview. She looked up at him half fearfully. It was so strange to see him there at that hour of the night, and an almost super stitious awe-crept over her. 1 wanted to tell you that you have ruined my life so far. I heard that you were at Shelf ord. I knew that you would be here to-night, and I have come to ask you if you repent the past, and are will- ing to atone xor is. Alice shrank bacfe. " Mr. Scrope," was all she could say. " The inferiority, if there beany, is on my side," lie said ; " you have improved the past X have wasted it. xet the wast ing of it I lay to your charge. I knew you better than you knew yourself. I wanted a wife who would understand me and would give me sympathy. You could have done this and you refused it. Will you refuse it now ? . ; ' ! " . - .Bewildered, ana yet indignant, moe shrank further away from him. " Mr. Scrspe, she said, X bid you go back to your wife, x bid you to re pair the brilliant prospects you seem so wrongly to have marred." - ' X wish X could, he answered sorrow fully. "My wife- is dead, Alice, or I should not be here to-night. She died two years ago. You are hard and un- iust as you have ever been." " .Dead I stammered Alice. now could I know ? I have but just returned to England." She moved nearer to him; she held out her hand, -. " Forgive me," she said. And their eyes met ; and Mr. Scrope, looking down into hers, stooped and kissed the quivering lips for the second time in his life. Jean Banceur. Dinner. Dinner, both in the nature and quanti ty of its components, must be regulated by the constitution and judgment of in dividuals : who. however, bearing in mind a constant and consistent discrim ination with respect 1 o aliments, should be careful to study the peculiarities of their constitution and digestive powers, and to adapt their diet to them. We may. however, very well add, that those who are chiefly employed in mental oc cupation, and not exposed to much bodi ly labor, require leas - animal food than such as are in the continual exercise of corporeal strength, and should conse quently, avoid excess in that particular ; with this exception, tnat an nysieno or hypochondriac tendency seems to re- Quire animal food, which, however, should be freely joined with the vegeta ble. We may here, also, properly re mark, that no error is in this country more common or more dangerous than the neglect of bread. This valuable edible is the safest and most nutritious of vegetable aliments, and the best -corrector of animal food by its plentiful use alone, the bad conse quences of an excess of the latter may be obviated. The tables of the French appear to be supplied as freely with ani mal food as those of the English ; yet that people, by a greater use of bread and dried acid fruits, prevent the ill ef fects of a heavier diet, and preserve a cheerful buoyancy of spirits, to which the generality of our phlegmatic island ers are strangers. The English, there fore, who are so much devoted to animal food, - should particularly moderate its effects by a liberal use of bread and Oth er- vegetable matter; since vegetable food is necessary to secure, not only health, but long life. Iu infancy and youth, we should be confined mostly to it ; m mannooa ana .tne aecune oi we, we should more freely use nimn,l nour ishment ; and in old age, we should re turn to the vegetable. Vegetables and milk, indeed, are' strong antidotes . to scurvy, and putrid- and inflammatory fevers' ; nay, in the former disease, milk alone will frequently do more good than any other remedy. A Sickening Story. The New Orleans Times records the following incident of the recent steam boat disaster at that city: Maxwell, upon being interviewed, stated that he was a workman on the Hodman when she caught fire from the Kyle. Although he could have reached the shore, the pite ous appeals of the women induced him to stay. Launching a stage plank, he ramped into: the river, and. calline to two ladies, bade them follow for their lives. Unhesitatingly they' took the fatal leap, and were assisted by him on the stage. The current drifted them directly against the burning vessel, not withstanding his desperate exertions to push the stage in a contrary direction. While attempting ; to save the ladies, urged and encouraged by their agoniz ing shrieks, a burly negro seised a plank and jumped upon them.' The plank striking Maxwell across the leg and pre cipitating him -into the- water, a few strokes were taken and he reached an other plank, where, helplessly, he 'watched the negro, lost to everything but saving his, life, make ineffectual at tempts to gain the - stage on which were the ladies. Suspecting the result, he turned around, and when he looked again the stage floated . buoyantly past ium, bottom, upwardthe- ladies aad their murderer had drowned." Thb folio win or is a reoioe for mnVino- hard soap, which, is said to be excellent and economical. Nearly every family accumulates through the winter drippings from beef and . mutton. - These can be utilized for the grease by boiling is water, allowing it to cool, then removing from the water and boiling' till all the water is expelled, t Of course the whiter the grease the nicer the soap. - Take six pounds of sal. soda, six pounds of grease, three sad a half 'pounds new stone lime. four gallons soft - water, half pound borax. Put soda, lime and water into an iron boiler : boil tall all is dissolved. When well settled pour off the clear lye. wash out the kettle, and put in the clear lye, grease and borax ; boil till it comes to soap, pour into a tub to cool. and when sufficiently: hard cut into bars ana put on boards to dry. "I HATBi" said a French pnest. "to confess an Irishman, for there are four questions I always have to ask before can get at the sms: Are you . married or single?' Yes, sir. Are you mar ried or, single ?' No, sir ; Are you married or singlet' Yes, sir. Are you a married man?' 'No, sir. " l X : jrOB powllsg'g Funeral. r HL S. Cox writes the following : " Many years ago I was one of ; a parly in Wash ington city, when .South and North vied with each other in convivial life. ' An other of the party was Uen. XJawson, membei ' from Western Pennsylvania, whose homestead was Albert' Gallatin's old home. 1 He was an admirable story teller. I recall somewhat sadly, now that he is gone, how well he illustrated he InttfriAHg of a class of Virginians. The story was a part of Ins Congressional canvassing.' On one ' occasion he got across the Pennsylvania ; line into a little village of Virginia. He was in the midst of a group around the tavern, wnue treating and talking, a procession ap proached which looked like' a funeraL He asked who was to be buried? "Job Dowling, said they. "Poor Job!" sighed the General.: He was a good natured, good-for-ncthing, lazy fellow living on the few fish he . caught and the squirrels he killed, but mostly on the do nations of his neighbors. "So poor Job dead, is he?" "No, he ain't dead, zactly, " said they. " Not , dead not xet you are going to oury mm r ' Fact isl General, he has got too infer nal all-fired lazy to live. We can't afford him any more. He's got so lazy that the grass began to grow over his shoes so everlasting lazy thf t ne put out one oi his eyes to save the trouble of winkin' when out a gunnin. But," says the Genera', " this must not be.. It will dis grace my neighborhood. Try him a while oncer, can t you ? " Uan t ; too late coffin cost 81.25. Must go on now." About this time the procession came, up, and halted, when the General proposed if they would take Job out he would send over a bag of corn. On this announce ment the lids of the comn opened and Job languidly sat up ; the cents dropped from his eyes as he asked, " Is the corn shelled, General?" "No, not shelled." " Then," said Job, as he lazily lay down, go on with the funeral Wall Street. Present and Past. Wall street, so much derided by com monplace cities as the devil s exchange, is at this moment a mirror of what is tak ing place, everywhere. ; Instead of s dozen heroes in its Pantheon, there is but one Jay Gould. He has nearly broken Daniel Drew, the head . of the bears. Burns Hatch, whose operation with Michigan Southern stock in 1867 netted $2,185,000, has been exploded by Gould, and has sailed for Europe. Henry Keep has been five years asleep under a $100,000 mausoleum, and his wife has found a husband for the $4,000,000 he left her in Judge Schley, of Georgia. Vanderbilt ho longer visits the street. and his stocks hold their high figure from the integrity of the man ; that is, Van derbilt will not permit his own stocks to fall on his friends, although the condi tion of the Lake Shore railroad seems to be anything but sound. Jim Fisk died the brawler's death he coveted. Horace Clark passed away with the serenity he had lived. I saw Leonard Jerome, a few days ago, lunching in the park, pass and indifferent. He was the Sardanapa lus of the street, and under his domina tion Pacific Mad sold at 829. With more intelligence than any otker broker, educated at .Princeton, he lost millions by foolishly remaining up town at pleasure on the day his company held its annual meeting. Xle is now worth about three- quarters of a million, which he husbands as closely as he can, and avoids the street. Tom Durant dropped out of prominence very much for the. reasons which exhaust ed Jerome pleasure and extravagance, There are no such times, at present, for rabid speculation as in the period of the war and succeeding it. JJr. Hhelton, -the hermit operator, who used to appear late in the autumn from his country estate, and carry 75,000 shares at a time, bearing gold meanwhile, is only a tradition now. Amasa Sone ant Alexander Mitchell, who are great railway officials, sent in large orders at times, but , have grown conservative. " Oath . Toumsend. Ten Years for Forty Cents. John Steptoe was yesterday sentenced to ten years' imprisonment in the State Penitentiary for robbing Xiarney Uswaid of the sum of .forty cents on the 16th of December last. , On the evening of that day the .prosecutor, who resided at McBee City, when driving toward his home, and when on Chouteau avenue, near Urand. came across the nnsoner. who threw a rock at and struck him, and then . jumped into the wagon and beat him on the head with a soda-water bottle. He knew the prisoner, having formerly worked with him. Another man, named Sam, held him while the. prisoner rifled in pocket. He only succeeded in ob taining 80 cents in money and 10 cents' worth of " tobacco. Oswald had a con siderable amount of money in another pocket, which the robbers faded to find. 8U JjOu uiooe, aisfc , . Speculation Extraordinary. . Numerous applications have- been re ceived at the United States Treasury at Washington from various parts of the country, for the first sheets of fractional currency printed with the new signature of Mr. New, the new Treasurer. These applicants express the belief by offering a premium, that they coma sen tne " stamps" .with the new signature at large advance to the public for keepsakes. Similar applications have also been re ceived for the last sheets printed with Spinner's signature before he 'goes out of office. This rage for speculating upon the petty foibles of the people is taking an nnTia"- , turn w una matter, bumjb neither signature is in the handwriting of the Treasurer, and all are simply printed fac-similea. But a fool and his .money are soon parted. . Tax following is a simple method of cleaning brass, which will be valuable for the housewife to remember : If very much oxidised of covered with green rust, lirst wash it with strong-soda and water. f If not, so very bad, this first process may be dispensed with. Then apply a mixture of - one part of common sulphuric acio and twelve parts pf water, mixed in an earthen vessel ; wash ; well, first with clear . water, and : then with water containing, some ammonia, after ward scouring well with pil and rotten stone, using a piece of soft leather and a little dry rotton-etone to give a brilliant polish, v In subsequent cleaning, oil and rotten-stone will be found sufficient, ,. A SmdiFro'EwrOTKB. -M. Seguin is dead. He built' the first railway in France (from Lyons to St. Etienne); he invented iron - wire suspension bridges and the tubular boilers of locomotive engines, ' by which invention railway trains have been able to attain their pres ent great speed, for ' the tubular boiler generates steam rapidly enough to sup ply the vapor as fast as it is wanted. He lived to attain the age of eighty-nine years. His mind - had decayed some years before his body. He was a pupil and a nephew of Montgoliier, the paper maker, so well known by his connection with aerial navigation. Four per cent, of the people of Eng land die a violent death. So says the British Medical Journal. Madame Jerome Bonaparte. In Scr timer's for May there is an in teresting account of "The Baltimore Bonapartes," by E. L. Didier, accom panied by striking portraits Of Jerome and Madams Bonaparte, their son and grandson. We quote as follows.: Madame Bonaparte is still, livincr m Baltimore, at the age of ninety years. She says she has no intention of dying until she is a hundred. She has been to Eurspe sixteen timeB, and contemplates another trip this summer. This old lady has mote vivacity and certainly more in- j telligenoe than many of the leading wo men of fashion of the present day. She expresses her opinion upon all -subjects with great freedom, and sometimes with bitterness. She has little or no confi dence in men : and a very poor opinion of women, the young ladies of the pres ent day, she says, 'all have the " homo mania." All sentiment she thinks a weakness. She professes that her am bition has always been not the throne, out near the throne. Mr. Patterson, her father, died in 1896, at an advanced age, in possession of a large fortune. In his will, which is one of the most remarka ble documents that has ever been de posited in the Orphans' Court of Balti more, he says: 'The conduct of my daughter, Betsey,' has, through life, been ss disobedient that in no instance has she ever consulted my opinion or feelings ; indeed, she has caused me more anxiety and trouble than all my other children put together ; her folly and misconduct have occasioned me a train of experience that, first to last, has cost me much money' in this, lie means the. marriage Of his daughter to Jerome Bonaparte. The old gentleman left her, out of his wealth, only three or four small houses and the Wines in his cellar worth is all about ten thousand dollars. "Madame Bonaparte is very rich ;' she has made her money by successful specu- lataona, and by her life-long habit of sav ing. For years she has lived at a board ing-house m Baltimore, seeing very little company. Her costume is ancient, and there is nothing about her appearance that suggests the marvelous beauty that led captive the heart pf Jerome Xkna parte. Her eyes alone retain some of the brightness of former days. " i: or forty years. Madame iionaparte kept a diary, in which, she recorded her views and observations of European and American society. Some of her remarks are severely sarcastic. A well known Boston publishing house, it is said, re cently offered ten thousand dollars for the manuscript volumes, but Madame refused to sell them at any price, and has committed them -to the custody of her younger grandson, Charles Joseph, re cently a law student of Harvard, now a ris ing member of theBaltimore bar. They will probably be published after the writer's death." A Dead Weight of Lead. Oscar Barton was a bad boy of Somer- ville, Tennessee. He was only nine teen years old, and therefore, a boy, but he did man s work about town. He was a walking arsenal of small arms had at various times fired himsel off, and killed a good many people. He had one good trait, however. He always told people about when there was danger in him, so they could defend themselves if they de sired so to do. That was certainly very kind of liurton. He was honorable in all his assassinations to that extent. Last August there was a rumor that the negroes were about to attack Somer- ville, and Oscar Burton armed himself for the defence of the town.- He went out like David did against the giant of Oath and swore death and destruction to any man with a black face he miirht meet. The black men kept out of his way. The Sheriff of the county and the Sheriff's two brothers, went - forth to take Burton into custody. - Burton killed the Sheriff and one of the brothers and Crippled the other brother for life and was not taken. In the skirmish he was riddled with bullets and filled with lead. Nobodv thoucht he could possibly survive, but he did, and the lead he carried gave him more weight. This was all the inconvenience he experi enced. ' T. N. Doyle, a young man of 21, and a clerk in a store at oomerville, occu pied the same room for some time with Burton. ' Doyle was summoned before the grand-jury and testified that Burton carried concealed weapons. ' The next day Doyle' told Burton what he had done, He excused himself by saying that he could not swear to a lie when the Question was asked him under oath, and said he would make all the reparation he could by paving Burton s line if be was fined. It was on Sunday that Doyle made the explanation to Burton. Burton became incensed and told Doyle that he did not want to kill a man on Sunday; but would postpone the killing until the next time he met him ; honorable to the last. Doyle knew his man and placed himself on guard. On Monday he saw Burton saunt ering across the street, towards the-store. with his hand in his bosom. Doyle got a heavily-loaded double-barrelled shot -gun and stepping into the door, fired upon Burton in the street. He fired both barrels in quick succession, both charges open. Burton f elL Doyle advanced On Viito with a revolver and fired several shots into him to make a sure thing this time. Oscar Burton is dead. On his person were found not less than five loaded navy revolvers. Doyle was ar rested, but he has all the , sympathy in Somerville. &t. Louis Jtepublican. Ants That Bury the Dead. V Xt has been discovered that there are some ants which actually bury their dead. . Recently a lady had been obliged to kill some ants, the' bodies of which lay about on the ground. - Presently a single ant found its dead - companions, and examined them and then went off. Directly it returned with a number . of others and proceeded to the dead bodies. Four ants went to each corpse, two lift ing it and the other two following, the main body, some two hundred in num ber, following behind. The four bearers took their office in turns, one pair re lieving the other when they were tired. They went straight to a sandy hillock, and there the bearers put ' down their burdens, and the ethers immediately be gan to dig holes. A dead ant was then placed in each grave, and the soil filled in. The most curious part of the pro ceeding was that some six or seven ants refused to assist in grave-digging; upon which the rest set on them, killed them, dug one large hole, and tumbled them unceremoniously into it. - 1 What the Word Bee Means The term "bee," now so generally ap plied to spelling classes, has for a centu ry or more been used in connection with quil tings, corn-hoskings, apple-butter boilings, and other pleasant gatherings of country people, ' where the hum of busy industry reminded one of the activ ity of a bee-hive. - When the quilt was completed, or the corn all husked, the young people generally amused them selves with dancing, playing games, etc, and, among other pleasant amusements, spelling classes were introduced. To these old-fashioned oountry customs may, we think, be traced the origin of the term " bee ' in its application to or thographic contests. BUSINESS CARDS JOHN CONNER, AND Exchange Office, ALBANY, OREGON. v Deposits received anbject to check t right. . Interest allowed on time deportta in coin. Exctwnse -on Portland, 8n Francisco and Hew York for sale at lowest rates. Collections made ana promptly reminea. Hefers to H. W. Corbett, Henry Falling, W. 8. Banking hours from 8 a. m. to a p. m. Albany, Feb. 1, 1874. 22v J. W. BALDWIN, Attorney and Counselor at Law, Will practice In all the Courts in the Second, Third and Fourth Judicial District, in toe Supreme Court of Oregon, and in the V. 8. District and Circuit Courts. - ; - ' . . Office In Parrish brick (upHrtairt), In office occu pied by the late N. H. Cranor, First street, Albany, Oregon. ; 1 v tol6v6 D. B. BICE, M. D., SURGEON AND PHYSICIAN. Office, firstst., Between Ferry and Washington. Residence. Third street, two blocks below or east of Kethodlst Church, Albany, Oregon. v5n40 . O. POWKIili. I Ii. FLTNN. . POWELL & FLYNN, , Attorneys and Counselors at Law, AND SOLICITORS IN CHANCEBY, T Flinn. Notary Public). Albany. Oregon. Collec tions and eoneyanoes promptly attended to. 1 Albany Book Store. JNO. FOSHAY, Dealer In Miscellaneous Books, ftchool Books, Blank Books, Stationery, Fancy Articles, ec. , Books imported to order at shortest possible no Ice. ! vn30 DR. GEO. W. GRAY, 1 . DEN T It 8 T Albany, Oregon. Office In Parrish Brick Block, corner First and Perry streets. ! Office hoars from 8 to 12 o'clock a. m. and l to 5 RMtHAimft. mraer r li iu tuu rerry trca. o'clock t. m. i - 10 Epizootics Distanced. THE BAY TEAM STILL LIVES, And is flonrishina' like a sreen bay tree. Thankful for past favors, and wishing to merit .he continu ance of the same, the BAY TEAM will always be ready, and easily found, to do any hauling within the city limits, lor a reasonaoie compensauuu. r Delivery or gooas a specially. 30vS . A. N. ARNOLD. Proprietor. W. C. TWEEDALE, Dealer in Groceries, ProTisiojis, Tobacco, Cigars Cutlery, Crockery, and Wood and Willow Ware, I Albany, rST" Call and see him. i Obkoon. 24v5 The Eletzler Chair I Can be had at the following places : Harrisburg... .....j. ...... .I. .Sam May Jnnrtion Oitv i Smith A Brasneld Brownsville Kirk A Hume Halsey.... , t... J. M. Morgan Bdo ...J ........J.J. Brown Albany. .Graf A Collar A full supply can also be obtained at my old shop on first street, AiDany, uregon. ..-(--. tf. in. mc M. t-t .r.rw. H. J.B0UGHT0N,M.D., GRADUATE OF THE UNIVERSITY MEDICAL COLLEGE OF NEW YORK, and late member of Bellevue Hospital Medical College, New York. Office in A. Carothers bany. Oregon. A Co.'s Drug Store, Al- Piles! Piles ! ' win itftv this damaainv and troublesome com plaint cannot be cured, when so many evidences of success might be -placed before you every day cures of supposed hopeless cases T Your physician informs von that the longer von allow the complaint to exint. you lessen your chances for relief. Ex perience ha taught thx in all earn. A. Carotliers & Co.'s Pile Pills & OMmen1 ...... i . 'Are all they are recommended to be. will cure Chronic, Blind ana tsteeaing .rues iu a very nm time, and are convenient to .' , ' . This preparation is sent by mail or express to any point wunin tne unuea yw pwHgn Aaaress a. i;ano ibji m v w. , 27 v6 Box 83. Alabany Oregon JOHN SCHMEER, DBAXiEB IK Groceries and Provisions I ALBANY OREGON, Has just opened his new grocery establishment, on Comer of Ellsworth and First Streets, ..... j . With a fresh stock of Groceries, Provisions, Candles, Cigars, Tobacco, Ac, to whicn ne invites vote alien tion of our.eitixena. In connection with the store he will keep a Bakery, and will always have on hand a full supply of fresh Bread, crackers, Ac. j , tar" Call and see me. , ' JOHN 6CHMEEB. FehrnaryM j '' a4" The Old Stove Depot John .Briggs, - y Dealer in .. - " Ccot, Parlor- ani Box Stoves ! 1u 't OF THE BEST PATTERNS. i ...A. LSO, Tin, Sheet Iron 'and Copper "Ware, And the usaal assortment of' FurnlaMng Good to . : be obtained in a Tin Store. Repairs neatly and promptly executed on reason able terms. .. . - -. -;. Short Reckonings Hake Loag Friends. Front Street, Albany. Dee. S, 1874. i WHEEELEB. C. P. BOUGE. a B. tVHEEXER. ', A. WHEELER & CO., SHEDD, 0BEO0N, , FORIABBIM t AHD - COMMISSION ' MERCHANTS. , ... ,f . . , Dealers In Merchandise aad Produce. A good assortment of aU kind of Goooa always in store at lowest market rates. j . - . - ' Agents for sale of Wagons, Strain Drills, Cider Mills, CiJUrns, Ao Ac - CASH paid fo WHEAT, OATS, PORK, BVT- xao, iMma, ana mwitti. - - A. W. GAMBLE, M. D., PHYSICIAN, SURCE6N, Eto. Office on First EL, over Weed's Grocery Store "BesJdence opposite late residence of John C. Ven denbaH, near the Foundry, First street, Albany. October 33 1873. . ' . ' ' ' ." . . I" ' W e bfoot M ark e 1 1 CHARLES WILSON Ha-rlng leased the Webfoot Market, on First street, adjoining Oradwobl's, respectfully asks a share or the pnblia patronage. The market will be kept con stantly supplied with all kinds of fresh meats. Call and see. t3T The highest cash price paid for Hides. rr . CHAKLE3 WiUSO-V. Albany, August 14, 1874. J ' GEO. R. HELM, Attorney ani Coisellor at 1 ALBANY, OREGON, Will praotlre In all the Courts of this State. umce in r ox d juries jsuuaing tup-euun;, steet. ALBANY Foundry anil A. F. CHERRY, Proprietor, ALBANY OEEGON, Manufactures Steam Engines Hour and Saw Mill Machinery, WiToa-Vortiiig & Aricultiiral MacMiiBiT v And aU kinds of Iron and Brass Castings. Particular attention paid to repairing all kinds off machinery. - 41t8 A. CAK0THE11S & CO.. DEA1KBS IN Drugs, Chemicals, Oils, Paints, , Dyes, Class, Lamps, Etc AH the popular ' PATENT MEDICINES, JJ'XJNJS UUI'LEKI, CIGARS, TOBACCO. NOTIONS, PERFUMERY, And TOILET GOODSL Particular care and promptness given physicians.. prescriptions and family recipes. . , A. (JAKUTliEKB A UO. Albany, Oregon. . 4vS GrO TO THE DEE-HIVE STORE S -TO BUT- Groceries, Provisions, Notions &c.f &c, &c. Cheap for Cash. ! Conitry Mnce of All Ms BoniM For Merchandise or Cash. This is the p'aee to get the Best Bargains Ever Offered la Albasy. Parties will always do well to call and see for thesa selves. , H. WEED First Street, Albany, Oregon. S2v6 MEXICAN lustang Liniment Was first known in America. Its merits are now well known throughout the habitable world. It has the oldest and best record of any Liniment In the world. From the millions upon millions of bottles sold not a single complaint has ever reached ua. A a Healing and Paln-8nbdaing Liniment it has no equal. It is alike . BENEFICIAL TO HAN. AND BEAST. Sold by all Prueglata. S.T.-ie60"K, Y- OLD Homestead Tonic . 1." .-' - ,' '-- -" ; .. Plantation Bitters Is a purely Vegetable Preparation, composed or Callaaya Bark, Boots, Herbs and Fruits, among which will be found garaaparillian, Dandelion, WJld Cherry, Sassafras, Tansy, Gentian, Sweet Flag, etc.; also Tamarinds, Dates, Prunes and Juniper Berries, preserved in s sumeient quantity (only) or thesairit of Sugar Cane to keep in any climate. They invari ably relieve and cure the following eomplaiuts Dyspepsis, fanndioe, -Liver Complaint., Loss of Appetit., Headache, Bilious Attacks, Fever and Ague, Summer Complaints, Sour Stomach, Palpita tion of the Heart, General Debility, eta. They are especially adapted aa a remedy lor the diseases to which w o m E N Are subjected ; and as a tonic for the Aged, Feeble and Debilitated, have no equal. They are senctly in tended as a Temperance Tonic or Bitters, to be used aa mediaine only, and always according to direct iocs. ' Sold bt all xibst-Class Dbvogists BROOM FACTORY. " W. IX BELDING, Who asannfactured the ' first - good Broom every -made in Albany, baa returned Irom California, and located permanently In this city, where he baa again eonunenoed the manufacture of all kinds of Brooms," ;Brushes,J Wisps, Ac, at his factory oa FIRST STBEET, at John Uetsler'a old stand, east of Itagnona Mill, where he invites those wishing a first-class broom to call and secure it of him. XT. . SELCnw. Albany, Oct. 16, 1874. 6 t