Image provided by: Hillsboro Public Library; Hillsboro, OR
About Washington independent. (Hillsboro, Washington County, Or.) 1874-18?? | View Entire Issue (Nov. 16, 1876)
THE INDEPENDENT. THE INDEPENDENT Advertising IUtes. LRO AC ADTIRTIIIVKRTI (!.) One squsra or one Insertion ... 91 JS OujUrcb subsequent Insertion.., M Jndoioe EYery Thursday Evening, -IT- H. B. LUCE, RCniWRKM ADTRRTIIRMITa (!.) WashijQgtoi nc Ibo 1 j 1 timb. m. 1 mi. 4q V col tf coll col. I month.... I Ml 4 1 00$ I 001 1 00$U 0(1 MO months... sOU-IM 10U SSU 10 00 17 10 ST It iBontba... 100 T0U 900 It 0U MOO Mil MOt montht... ISO 10 00 MM II 00 IT K 91 90 10 09 limr tow it oi sow as oo soou so a 9000 Office, Old Court House, HtLLSBORO, OREGON. mt SbMriytira (la rata.) StngU copy pr yr Slatf copy tlx montna. .. Hagl nsmbr ti 30 . 1 90 . 10 VOL. 4. HILLSBORO, WASHINGTON COUNTY, OREGON, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 1876. NO. 33. J 9 s I I When We Are Parted. When we are parted let me lie In some far corner of thy heart. Silent and front the world apart, Like a forgotten melody. Forgotten by the world beside, Cherished by one and one alone, For some loved memory of its own. So let me in thy heart abide. When we are parted keep for me The sacred stillness of the night; That hour, sweet love, is mine by right, Let others claim thy day of thee. The cold world sleeping at our ftset, My spirit shall discourse with thine, "When stars upon thy pillow shine, At thy heart's door I stand and wait. Boston Tran$crijt. A Sons: of Peace. The grass is green on Bunker Iliil, The waters sweet in Brandywine; The sword sleeps in the scabbard still, The farmer keeps his flock and vine: Then, who would mar the scene to-day With vaunt of battlefield or fray? The brave corn lifts in regiments Ten thousand sabres in the sun; The ricks replace the battle tents, The bannered tassels toss and run, The neighing steed, the bugle's blast. These be but stories of the past. The earth has healed her wounded breast. The cannon plow the field no more; The heroes rest! Oh, let them rest In peace along the peaceful shore! They fought for peace, for peace they fell; They sleep in peace and all is well. The fields forget the battles fought, The trenches wave in j olden grain; Shall we neglect the lessons taught And tear the wounds agape again? Sweet Mother Nature, nurse the laud, And heal her wounds with gentle hand. Lo! peace on earth. Lo! flock and fold, Lo! rich abundance, fat increase, And valleys clad in sheen of gold, Oh, rise and sing a song of peace! For Theseus roams the land no more, , And Janus rests with rusted door. Joaquin' Miller. My Night Lodger. Every person iid I was a queer little girl. 1 cai'l remember when they did , not say that. From all that I can learn, I was not a queer baby. I cried like any other child, and was just as troublesome, so the queerness must have been acquired, I cannot discover whereiu my queer neas lies ; when I ask my friends, they say, "Why well, you are different from other folks." A very clear and satisfac tory definition I This having the word "queer" attached to my name used to annoy ine; my dolls were the only specimens of humanity to whom I confessed this. To them I con fided all my secrets and my manifold . trials. They were attentive listeners never interrupted me. There was "Rosa," the very large one, she was my prime favorite, and oh, there were so many of them 1 cannot describe them. When I was eleven years old our folks tried to make me think I was too old to play with dolls. I felt as though life would have no pleasure tor me were my dolls taken from me. No one knows how I loved them. I used to go to my room and, locking the door to keep my fun-loving brothers and sisters from in truding, 1 would play by the hour with my miniature family. Another favorite resort of mine was the garret. It was full of boxes, barrels and chests, contain ing old papers, books and letters. Many of the letters were very ancient, written by relatives of whom I had scarcely heard. There were letters from parents to children, from brothers to sis ters, and love-letter. The latter interested me the most, although I thought they were rather silly. I suppose I could not appreciate the height and depth, and length and breadth, of the tender passion. Filling my pockets with apples, I would take possession of the garret and some comfortable old chair, minus an arm or rocker, and there I would sit for hours, reading. I had a passion for ghost stories, and stories of robbers and pirates, although they used to frighten me terribly. When in the midst of a most frightful story, down would tumble a bundle of something from the rafters, making considerable noise, and leading me to imagine the ghost and the robbers had stepped from the book to the garret. An old apple-tree stood by one of the windows; it had the greatest faculty for unearthly creaking and groaning, and the lightning rod generally kept up a mali cious racket. I declare it is a wonder I didn't lose my senses, reading so much trash and hearing so many fearful sounds. But this has nothing to do with my "lodger." I believe lam becoming carru lous. In the first place, I must tell you papa was a wealthy fanner, and our neighbors were "few and far between." When I was in my twelfth year, papa and mamma made up their minds to take a pleasure-trip to the "Far West." This was something unusual; they seldom left home. Well, they went, and my two sisters, two brothers and myself, had a gay time "keeping house." One day, all except myself and our servant girl were invited to go to a dinner party. I confess I dreaded to have them go. "Kate, we will bring you any amount of candy." "Sow, pet, you know you and Sally can stay here just as well as not." "Don't be a baby, Kitty," were the words directed to me. Finally I resignedly bade them "get out of my sight." p Sally and I were good friends; she told me stories and saur songs till I began to think it was quite k fine thing to be left at borne. Tired of stayinpin the house, I saun tered down the front walk, and amused myself by indulging in a forbidden pleasure swinging on the gate. Looking down Ahe road, I spied a man coming along. I flew to the house, and, satisfied that he was coming in, I ran to Sally. Seizing her dress with both hands, I exclaimed: "Oh, Sally I there is a dreadful-looking man coming in." Sally picked up the poker and walked to the door, while I, imitating her exam ple, snatched a stick of wood. Suddeuly Sally cried: "You little goose, it is Bill McCartyl" Sure enough, it was Sally's beau. Hef mother was very sick, and McCarty was sent to bring Sally home immediately. Here was a dilemma. Sally didn't want to leave me, and unless she started home then, she might not see her mother alive. It was nearly time for the rest of the folks to come home, so I managed to raise courage enough to say I was willing to remain alone. In a few minutes S:illy was off, and I was left in possession of our great house, which never seemed so large to me be fore. I tried to read, but it was impossi ble; all the murder stories I had ever read came to my mind. I remembered that none of our doors could be locked. Papa, who had a few strange ideas, declared locks' were a nuisance. I felt that I was doomed. I went out to the yard, and, to my dis may, discovered that the sky was over cast and a storm near at hand. I could see the rain coming; faster and faster it came; it was soon at the house. Oh, how it did rain ! On each 6ide of our yard was a brook, pretty and peaceable in pleasant weather, but a very little rain transformed them both into raging torrents. As I stood at the window I saw first one bridge, and then the other, swept off. I knew now that I must stay aloue all night; it would be impossible for my brothers and sifters to get home. Travelers, or, as Sally called them, "trampers," often stopped at our house over night, as there was no public-house near. To my horror, I now saw one of them coming across the field. Should I hide? No, that was not to be thought of. Without stopping to knock, the great rough man walked in. "Can I stay here all night?" I dared not refuse him, so as firmly as I could, answered: "Yes." He seemed surprised at seeing no one but myself, and questioned me much. I told him that my brother was upstairs writing; that we two were alone. That was the first thing that entered my head to tell him. Such a villainous counte nance that man had I His hair was cut close to his head, leavinsr his huge ears in bold relief. Wicked-looking eyes, and a brutal mouth, completed his general expression of ferocity. Bed-time came, and I directed the man to a room upstairs in the servants de partment, not the "upstairs" where I had said my brother was. Now that there was real danger, I was calm and reasonable. I fastened the door that led upstairs with my embroidery scissors, which happened to be in my pocket, so as to guard against surprise, and hurriedly collected our silverware, carried it to mamma's room and hid it in the bed. No one would have supposed the bed had been disturbed. I was elated at my ingenuity. I then hunted up what few jewels the girls possessed, and placing tbem, witli what money I could find, in a box, I tied them in my pocket. After doing this, I stole downstairs, and removed my scis sors from the door. These scissors were counted among my most valuable treas ures. I had them many years, and had no intention of losing them now. I expected the man would only wait till he thought I and my fictitious brother were asleep, and would then search the house for valuables, and finish by killing me. Only one plan for escape that I origi nated seemed feasible, I determined to wait till I heard myjodger in the room below, and then wrap myself in papa's shawl, and jump out of the window. I was not kept in suspense long; the pecu liar squeak of the sitting-room door warned me that it was time to act. Quietly I raised the window, and just as the steps approached the stairs, I jumped to the ground. Fortunately, there was a bed of lilies directly beneath the window, and they softened my fall. That there was danger of breaking my neck I had not thought. I was deter mined to escape. It was dark as Egypt, the rain was pouring down in torrents, but this was nothing in comparison with the horror within the house. Half a mile back of our house lived a friend of papa's Mr. Vincent. I resolved to go there. I ran along, stumbling against fences and falling into ditches, thinking I never knew such a long half mile. Finally I reached the house, and man aged to tell my story. Several young men happened to have been delayed there by the storm, and, headed by Henry Vin cent, a young man of some twenty-two years, they prepared to capture my visitor. I was too excited to remain at Mr. Vincent's. I declared I would go back home. They all tried to persuade me not to do this except Henry Viucent, who said "such a little heroine should do as she pleased." With a hand tightly clasped in Henry's we started. When we came within sight of our house, we saw a light flitting from room to room, and a few words of boisterous song floated to us on the breeze. Silently my friends surrounded the house, guard ing every avenue of escape. Henry and I (I would not let him leave me for a moment) entered the house. We found the vagabond searching papa's desk. He had found several hundred dollars that I had not seen, when preparing for flight. He started to run when he saw us, but finding men and revolvers on all sides, he was obliged to surrender. He was safely bound, and then ques tioned. It appeared he was a noted thief who had long battled the police. He said when he learned the house was occupied only by two individuals he was much elated. He did not intend to pro ceed to acts of violence, unless my brother and I troubled him too much. When he found the house deserted, he concluded I had not told him the truth that I was alone. Not finding me, he supposed I had hid, and he would not hunt for me. Lifting me into his lap, Henry Vincent called me the "bravest little woman he ever kuew." All the others praised me, till I began to think men were greater talkers than women. All that night we stayed there, but before morning I was "raving like a madman." Three long weeks I remained unconscious. When I became sensible, anxious faces were bending over me. Papa, mamma, and all the folks were at my bedside. "What is the matter?" I asked. In a moment that dreadful day came to my remembrance. "Oh, I know," said I, with a shudder. It was a long, long time before I re gained my strength. Every person petted and praised me. I was the heroine of the neigUorhood. Henry Vincent never tired of descant ing upon my bravery, and devoted him self to me in a manner that would have leen very aggravating to his young lady friends hail i been a few years older. My ''lodger" was sent to prison to medi tate for some years. Difficulties in the Way. But here are difficulties in the way I or as the wise man has it, "There is a lion in the way a lion is in the streets." Thou sands would gladly rejoice to be learned were it not for the toil. They would gladly enjoy the gratification that intel lectual wealth affords, but they are un willing to labor' for the prize. Think you that the great names in history rose to distinction without effort? Or rather did they not climb the ascent step by step? Burritt, to whom we have already alluded, was not merely a blacksmith by profes sion, but for years a daily laborer for twelve hours at the anvil. William Cob bett was once a common soldier, and afterwards a member of the British Par liament. He says of himself: "I learned grammar when I was a private soldier on the pay of a sixpence a day. The edge of my berth, or my guard bed was my seat to study in, my knapsack was my bookcase, and a bit of board lying on my lap ray writing table. I had no money to purchase candles or oil; in wintertime it was rarely that I could get any light but that of the fire, and only my turn even of that. To buy a en or a sheet of paper I was compelled to forego some portions of food, though in a state of starvation. I had no moment of time that I could call my own; and I had to read and write amid the talking, laughing, sing ing, whistling and bawling of at least half a score of the most thoughtless of men; and that, too, in the hours of freedom from all control. And I say, if I, under circumstances like these, could encounter and overcome the task, is there, can there be, in the whole world, a youth that can find an excuse for the non-performance?" Pupils are apt to ere in attributing too much to genius and favorable opportuni ties. There certainly are grades of intel lect, and with similar opportunities all would not succeed equally; it is likewise true that wealth may buy advantages, but it often brings its disadvantages. It leads youth to rely too much on their op portunites, and the mind lacks the en ergy which adverse circumstances gener ally impart. The young, man who relies on his genius and college facilities, will not be apt to distinguish himself by his attainments. If misfortune overtakes you, rally again, wnen tne web 01 tne spider is destroyed by the hand of the intruder, it does not waste its time in idle repiuiugs, but forthwith commences the work anew. Shall man do less? So the student of mathematics will often find, after spend ing hours or even days in completing some solution, that his plan is wrong, or that some slight error has been commit ted, by which all his labor is rendered of no avail. Then it is that, with mind dis ciplined to the task, he must, if he would succeed, meekly sit down to the work of review. He that would succeed must learn to bear the toil of revision. He must try and try again. Tradition relates that when Bruce, King of Scotland, after a succession of defeats, took refuge in the winter of 1306 in the Isle of Kiclirin, on the coast of Ireland, and there lay upon his bed, debating in his mind the question whether to continue further the unequal contest, or to leave his country forever, he saw a spider hanging to its thread, and endeavoring, its fashion is, to swing from one beam to another, for the purpose of fastening its line. Six times did the insect essay with all its ap parent power, to carry its point, and failed each time, but gathering all its strength for the seventh effort, it was suc cessful. Encouraged, the king rose up and returned to his scenes of danger ; and as he had never before gained a victory, he never afterward sustained a defeat. These examples show what can be done if we are willing to pay the price. Jour nal of Education. TnAMrs. The Albany Liw Journal says that "the Supreme Court of Maine has decided that it is a violation of the Constitution of the United States to send tramps and general vagrants to the work house without due process of law." This court, as quoted by the Journal, says: "If white men and women may thus summarily be disposed of at the North, of course, black ones may be disposed of in the same way at the South. Thus, the very evil which it was particularly the object of the Fourteenth Amendment to eradicate will still exist. The amend ment provides that no State shall "deprive any person of lite, liberty, or property without due process 01 law." the Su pre me Court of Maine holds that the summary commitment 01 "tramps ana general vagrants to the workhouse" is a deprivation of liberty not in conformity with "due process of law," and, hence,for- bidden by the Fourteenth Amendment. Therb is much discussion in New York papers on the question of admissions to the bar. The existing rules governing admissions are regarded as too lax, since under them the profession has deteriorated in character and learning. A Valuable Secret. If the anecdote is old, the lesson of life it bears can never grow old, any more than can the divine lessons of the Sermon on the Mount. It is related of Franklin, that from the window of his office he noticed a me chanic, among a number of others, who was at work on a house which was being erected close by, who always appeared to le in a merry humor, and who had a kind and cheerful smile for everyone he met. Let the day be ever so cold, gloomy or sunless, the happy smile danced like a sunbeam 'on his cheerful countenance. Meeting him one day, Franklin requested to know the secret of his constant happy flow of spirits. "Its no secret, doctor," the man re plied ; "I've got one of the best of wives, and when I go to work, she always gives me a kind word of encouragement, aud a blessing with her parting kiss; and when I go home she is sure to meet me 'with a smile and a kiss of welcome; and then tea is sure to le ready ; and as we chat in the evening, I find she has been doing so many little things through the day to please me, that I cannot find it in my heart to say an unkind word or give an unkind look to anybody." And Franklin adds: "What an influence, then, bath women over the heart of man, to soften it, and make it the fountain of cheerful and pure emotions. Speak gently, then; a happy smile and a kind word of greeting after the toils of the day are over, cost nothing, and go far toward making a home happy and peaceful." Variety in Food. Fish, flesh, fowl, vegetable and of this last, root, stem, leaf, bud, seed are all acceptable to the human stomach. Variety of food is as necessary as abun dance, for the supply of the waste of the body. Says a writer: "ror the staple articles of diet, bread and milk and meat, almost everybody seems to have an ap petite, but there are others that one must learn to like, as tomatoes and okra, to which each reader will doubtless add a long list of other edibles. "Persons brought up inland look with horror and disgust on lobsters and other shell-fish, while those accustomed to sea fiMKl in variety wonder how the inland ap petite can be satisfied with its narrow range of foods. To some oysters are a poison; in others strawberries produce the most distressing sickness; the same is true of cheese, and even of milk; yet these articles rank among the most nutritious and desirable articles of diet for the majority of people. "Travellers learn to eat everything and enjoy everything; in so doing they are indeed wise; and people who stay at home are wise if they accustom them selves to a large and varied range of food. to eat everything, in fact, that is edible. everything which they have not good reason to consider unfit for admission to the human stomach." Beware of Opiates. In order to in duce natural and healthful sleep such methods are to be adopted as will ab stract an excess of blood from the brain. This may be accomplished by exercise, which draws off the blood to the more weary organs; while a well-ordered di gestion demands the blood that keeps the brain in too great activity for the stom- nch, where it is needed, lo sleep well, t'K, according to Dr. Ferrier, one must, if possible, rid himself of all care, anxie ty and disturbing thoughts, as the natural season of repose approaches. A brisk walk toward the close of the day, and when the brain has been overtasked, is commended to us. But Dr. Ferrier warns us, and it were well if he could be heard everywhere and heeded, from opiates as "dangerous ground." They do not pro duce sleep so much as torpor. If you cannot get sleep by methods wnicn na ture itself dictates, he says it is full time to call in the family doctor. How People Get Sick. Eating too much and too fast; swallowing imper fectly masticated food; by taking too . r. , . I . . I mucn nuiu ai meats; unnaing poisonous whiskey and other intoxicating drinks; keeping late hours at-night, and sleeping too late in the morning; wearing clothes too tight, so as to relax circulation; wearing thin shoes; neglecting to take sufficeut exercise to keep the hands and feet warm; neglecting to wash the body sufficiently to keep the pores open; ex changing the warm clothes worn in a warm room during the day for costumes and exposure incident to evening parties; starving the stomach to gratify a vain and foolish passion for dress; keeping constant excitement ; fretting the mind with borrowed troubles; swallowing quack nostrums for every imaginary ill; taking meals at irregular intervals. Burnished Gildino. This is princi pally applied to the frames of pictures and mirrors, and to similar objects. It is performed by giving the wood, first, a coating of good size, and next, several successive coats of size thickened with finely-powdered whiting, Spanish white, or plaster of Paris, until a good face is produced ; observing to let each coat be come quite dry, and to rub it perfectly smooth with fine glass-paper, before the application of the following one. W ben the proper face is obtained, the surface is thinly and evenly gone over with gold size, and when this is nearly dry, the gold leaf is applied and afterwards burnished Toothache Dkops. One ounce of alcohol, two drachms of cayenne, one ounce of kerosene oil ; let it stand twenty- four hours after mixing. It cures the worst cases of toothache. To Take out Iron Mould. Hub a lit tle salts of lemon, or oxalic acid, on the stain, wet it with hot water, a little at a time, until the stain disappears. To Remove Indelible Ihk Saniss. Rub the spot with a weak solution of cyanide of potash, and then wash with cold water. Iciso. Take the yolk of an 'egg, a little butter melted, beat well together, put on your cake, sift on sugar, and set f A ft 4 A. in me oven a iew minutes. He Saw the Point. Somewhere about a score of years ago, while Neal Dow's law was in full force, an incident transpired in the court held in Paris, Oxford county, Maine, worth recording. Judge X (never mind how his name wa spelled, as he lives to spell it yet) was on the bench. lie was a genial, jolly soul in society, but inclined to be a little testy sometimes injudicial harness. The case on trial was the State vs. a hotel keeper, and the complaint was sale of liquor. One of the principal witnesses was singularly obtuse. He did not like to lie, nor did he seem anxious to tell the whole truth. He confessed to having made a purchase, but he could not tell what he purchased, nor could he remera ter what he bad asked for. At the county attorney asked him : length "Did you drink any of it?" "Not thar." "Well, did you drink it anywhere?" "I must a' done it." "How did it tastet" "I couldn't say." "Yes, you can say. Certainly you can tell me how it tasted." At this point the court interposed. The question was deemed trifling and out of place. "Why do you press it?" the judge de manded. "Well, your honor," replied the attor ney, "it is very evident that the witness Ixtught liquor of the defendant, and we want to know what description of liquor it was. As the witness refuses to tell what it was, I thought if he would only tell how it tasted, the court might be able to determine for itself." The audible smile that followed, inside and outside the bar, told that the hit was understood and appreciated. A Maine Miser. Some time in August last, says an Ap pleton (Maine) letter to the Camden (Maine) Herald, an aged man named John Humphrey died here, aged about eighty-three years. He was universally known as a very miserly man, aud it was supposed that he had more or less hard money secreted about the premises of his homestead. This supposition was founded on the fact that some thirty-five years ago Cyrus Simmons, late of Rockland, a carpenter, while building a house for Mr. Hum phrey, found about six hundred dollars in hard money secreted among some lum ber stored in Mr. Humphrey's barn pre paratory to building his house; and this money was claimed by and no doubt be longed to Mr. Humphrey. This fact be ing generally known, the supposition that more money was somewhere secreted was very reasonable. Mr. Humphrey was formerly a hatter, and, in all probability, accumulated quite a property, to which he afterwards made considerable additions by the gradual gains of products sold from his farm. Some eight years since he contracted with Samuel Ripley to take his farm and provide a -support for himself and wife during their lives. Mr. Ripley, feeling satisfied that there must be money some where secreted, immediately after the death of the old gentleman began a vig orous search for the supposed treasures. and was liberally rewarded for his search by finding secreted in an old desk two sacks fitted with double eagles of gold (f 20 each) to the amount of f 1,300 in each sack. There was also found in an Id sink, laid away in an old unoccupied closet, other parcels filled with silver coins, many ot them of ancient date, and mostly foreign coin, among them many five-franc pieces (an old French coin), and also Mexican dollars and Spanish coin. Plumage of Birds. The plumage of birds affords a strik ing instance of design, and therefore proves that there must have been a de signer. Take the fact that the feat'iers them selves are composed of small parts hav ing barbs, or hooks, to fasten them togeth er where tightness is necessary, and the other fact that the inner coating is often of loose fine down, as in the Eider duck, to secure warmth.. It is interesting, too, to observe that the leathers all lie smooth ly in one direction, so that in passing through either the air or water, there is no obstruction. But a wonderful provision for the water-fowl in particular, strikes us very for cibly as a proof of a superintending Providence in the creation of all animals. A goose, or duck, for instance, being so much in the water, would soon be soaked through all its feathery garments, and be loaded down and unable to swim; and so those water-fowl that make long journeys on the wing through rain storms and mists would, for the same reason, be un able to fly. But here Providence meets this difficulty by giving to these birds small oil-sacs, and the apparatus also for making the oil and always keeping them full, aud then placing them within reach of the bill of the bird so that it can draw out the oil and spread it through and over the whole of its garment of feathers, and thus is the bird clad in a first-class water proof suit, which no India-rubber manu facturer can improve, and which adds nothing whatever to its weight! This waterproof suit can be worn every day, without inconvenience, and is always on hand ready for use. By watching the fowl, the oiling oper ation can often be, seen, and how very dexterously it is performed. This ex plains why water runs so readily from a duck's back. A cask involving a curious point of law has been recently brought up in St. Louis. A proprietor of a hotel in that city brings in a claim for damages against the estate of a man who did "wrongfully, felonious ly and maliciously commit the crime of murder upon nimseu " in the hotel or tne claimant, and damaged his business, bis boarders leaving bis bouse, and the coro ner holding an inqnest therein, which caused people to talk about bis bouse and avoid it. For all of the above damages he demands $ t ,200. Whether he will get it or not remains to De aecioea. Hard Times. When the extravagance and Intemper ance of nations and communities are fol lowed by a national depression, the cry of hard times is heard from every quarter of the laud, and, instead of looking at the condition of things in their general bearing, every class looks upon itself as an object of persecution. Those who have been fortunate enough to secure a com petence for a rainy day, are railed at as though they were guilty of some serious misdemeanor. Such is the condition now. Many people, finding it a hard task to make a living, are ready to accuse some one of being the cause. The poor man rails at the rich, never thinking that he has had the same chances to get rich him. self. The mechanic finds fault with the manufacturer because he has but little work and small pay. He never thought of this when business was good and he was receiving large pay; and now he does not take into consideration that manufac turers are having just as hard a time as he, that their goods are selling at retail at hardly enough to pay the cost of man ufacturing. 80 the employees form them selves into societies under various fra ternal names to force a change for the better, thus effecting a combination such as they moat fiercely denounce, in their employers. Then the farmers say they are the most abused class in the land. They rebel against the old manner of business, ex cept when they want credit, an 1 take matters into their own hands. They do not realize that a majority of our mer chants are having a hand to hand strug gle, aud are envying the farmer his in dependence. So the farmers form them selves into granges, which supiort offi cers and a variety of other expenses. In the East they do all this to buy their goods cheap, aud in the West to get high prices. So every one is discontented and ac cusing somebody of having the advantage over him. They all have the epidemic, and are reaching out for some patent nostrum to cure them. But all these quack notions will avail nothing, aud all legislative tinkering will be wasted. The general prosperity of the country is not to be regulated by any jack-at-alt-trades whim, it will regulate itself if we let it alone just as much as the weather and correct its own abuses. All we need to do is to accept the situa tion, stop howling about everybody else, and go to work with such means as are are at our command; and soon business will resume its steady tone and every es sential branch of industry will receive a healthy support. Alord, in Portland Tramcript. Judicious Letting Alone. Try a little judicious letting alone. The danger is often in your own nervous fan cies; the little quarrel will blow over like a summer cloud; the chickens will be chased but not killed; puss and dog can take care of themselves; the swing won't break the sooner for not being watched; the tide won't come in with a sudden rush because you are not there to scream warnings every ten minutes; a little fall from the tree or rock will teach your boys caution more surely than forty lec tures. Leave them alone one day, and see to your surprise, perhaps, that they arc actually alive and only healthfully tired at night. Save your "noes" for es sential thiugs,and say "yes" promptly and cheerfully to the things that seem so little to you, but are actually big for children. Keep at least one eye and one ear shut, and great will be your relief. "How did you train your boys! asked a friend of Mrs. McCook, the mother of the seven brothers who won the name of the fighting McCooks" as Generals in the army. They were all stalwart, brave, self-reliant, cool-headed men soldiers "without fear and without reproach." "Well, I didn't govern them too much," said the wise mother. As soon as they were old enough to get around alone out of doors, she discreetly lengthened their hues. When they went to play, or later on, fishing or hunting, she taught them self-reliance by teaching them to rely uikii themselves. "Don I was a word seldom used, and then it meant but one thing do not I as "whoa" should mean but one thing to a horse stop I The mothers authority and care were not frittered away on trivial and transient things. Marriaoe or Miss Rothschild.- The Paris Oauloin announces that the Etrl of Roselery is about to marry Miss Hannah de Rothschild, daughter and heiress of the late Biron Meyer de R.ithschild, of Mentniore. This may be true, but as Lord Rxtebery has sailed for New York in the Jlu$tia, it is probably not. The Gaul oil adds that only thrice before have the Rothschilds intermarried with Chris tiana, and cites the instances with the usual Parisian contempt for accuracy iu regard to foreign names and titles : "Thirty years ago the b iron ess Sarah de Roths child married Sir Fitzroy; fifteen years ago Baron Alphonse married Mile. Ans pach, and only the other day Mile. Annie de Rothschild married Sir Eliot York." The latter case, we need hardly explain, is that of Miss Annie de Rothschild, sec ond daughter of Sir Anthony de Roths childs, who in March, 1873, married the Hon. Mr. Eliot York, brother of the Earl of Hardwicke. Robert Hall's Wit. -Robert Hall, the eloquent English Baptist preacher, was once told that it was the custom when the Archbishop of Canterbury dined, for his chaplain to come into the room to say grace and then go out. "So that Is being great I" Hall remarked. "His Grace not choosing to present bis own re quests to the King of kings, calls in a deputy to take up bis messages. A great man. Indeed I" Some one said to nail that his anima tion increased with his years. "Indeed J" replied the preacher, "then I am like touchwood the more decayed the easier fired.- The St. Lawrence is the only river In the world which enjoys the symmetry of having its bead larger than its moutn. Turkish Atrocities. HORRORS Or TUB WAR IN BULGARIA, The following are extracts from letters written by a Frenchman, E. Barrois, who is a chevalier of the Legion of Honor, and was formerly an officer of the French , army in Algeria. He has resided for sonic years at Mitrovitza, a locality where it my be supposed that civilization has penetrated, as it is the present terminus of tho railway from Salonica. The first letter Is dated Mitrovitza, July 29, 1870: 1 have already written to you that, on account of the barbarous acts committed here, I had been obliged to take refuge in Uskub in order to put my family in comparative security, I entered the city, and perceived that, notwithstanding the cries of the Christian women and children, it was being pillaged for the benefit of the Mussulmans. Taking courage and provided with a horao loaded with two sacks of pears, and disguised as a Botiniak, I resolved to see what was passing iu the neighborhood of Mitrovitza and between Novi Bazar aud Sieditza. Early on ttio 27th I took a cross-road that I knew, so as not to meet the out post,and arrived at the place where formerly there was the large village of Toulnia Dibrivia. It . was now thoroughly destroyed, not by war, but by pillage. I was met by some old men, who showed me a place to which I could scarcely go on' accouut of the. odor. One huudred bodies lay dead in the sun, all iu a state of putrefaction. The heads of both sexes and of all ages wero separated from the trunks, 'iho horror of this sad sight made me leave it as soon as possible, and 1 went toward a little church which 1 knew to be about five kilometres distant northward on the side of Novl Bazar. Here tho maio spectacle met my eyes, but It was worse, us the number ol victims was greater. Leaving there with beating hear I, 1 went toward a village betweeu bieuiza und Novi Bazar to fiud shelter lor the ulght. On the slope of a wooden mountain I found traces of a struggle aud shreds of clothing. A little further on in a clear. ing I saw soldiers ot the regular army busied iu burying pieces ot Christian bodies, which wero for the most part naked. I stopped at some distance off, not knowing whether to reveal myself or lake another direction, but I had bceu seen by a entry, who ordered me to ap proach. An officer called Ahmet Effeudl came up. Not wishing to betray uiyelf, 1 spoke Bosuiak to him, and gave him about two measures of pears. 1 llieu ap proached the soldiers. The officer said to me, half iu Tuikuh and half iu Bos uiak, "Uu-ish me dobro'' (this affair is not good). Tho B.tshi-Bazouks," hu con tinued, "have acted very badly in this country, for they have killed all the sub. jects of the Sultan, and have pillaged aud carried on everything they met with, so that we fiud nothing more, not even an egg to eat. It is trighttul. IhoBulUn dies not know of these atrocities. This poor people have all the winter long transported for us provisions and muui lions without claiming a para. hy Kill them? Why did not thu Bashi-Baz uks come to make war against tho Servians!" This was u company of tea if I nun Auto Ha w ho had bueu charged w ith the duty of acting as a burying party. After an hour's inarch. 1 met a troop of women aud children going toward a bluck gorge iu the mountains. lhutu poor people fled at iny approach, and it was only alter much trouble that i made myself lecoguizud us a Christian. An old man, aluiot naked, approached lue, aud as soon as he saw that 1 was iudued a Frank, and uot uu enemy, hasteued to lo- assure the women and children, and con ducted me to a cave where there were about sixty or seventy people of both sexes, but not a sound inau among them. At first I saw nothing but a yawning aud obscure hole, perhaps a den of bears, for these animals are very numerous tu this purt of Bosnia. They then lighted a niece of bine wood, aud 1 could distin guish all these wretched and half-naked people, busy roasting green maize, tne ouly food they had, for the plunderers had not left them even a pot iu which to cook anything else. I had some small change, which I placed in tho hands of the eldest ; but before accepting It hu con sulted with the others. "For," saiJ hu, "if we be found with this money they would believe that we had more, and would kill us." Leaving these wretched people 1 ascended a steep hill, where I expected tu fiud Gabrovu, which is situat ed at the entrance of a large and fine plain. I had still five hours to go before reach ing Mitrovitza, and followed the plateau, where I exacted to fiud four Christian hamlets, although it is needless to say tlut they no longer existed. Their ruius can be recognized from afar by the flocks of crows which hover over them. Before ar riving at Mitrovitza, a fearful sjectacle awaited me. Some gypsy children wire occupied butchering, with long kuives, a poor Christian who had come to town to buy flour for several families at Mitro vitza who were living iu his house, three kilometres from the town. His donkey was covered with blood, snd the fiour was thrown about here aud there, and the flush on the poor man's legs had been cut sway in strips. The little wretches fled at my approach. Exasperated at what I had seen and heard on my journey, I was ready to fire at any one I met who was engaged in any savage act. At last I reached Mitrovitza. Wishing to bid adieu to Mitrovitza, I went to the tomo of the two daughters I had lost there one last May. Sacrilege I There was no longer any tomb; the ground had been recently dug up, and the coffin was broken into a hundred pieces. Who has not read and sung the poem "Beautiful Suow." One of the 833 who have claimed the authorship of that pro duction has been arrested lor embezzling his employer's cash. At different times be has claimed each of the three names, U. H. Sigourney, U. C. Sillowsy and Col. Huntley. lie will be tried for his crime, and if convicted, punished "but," the N. Y. Tribuns asks, "what punishment la this most unequal world awaits the real author of the 'Beautiful Snowf " I 1 f 1 .