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About The new Northwest. (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 5, 1873)
"gpje Ken? mm)mt$t HKS. A. J. DLnw, Editor an Proprietor OFICECor" Tront mill SlArk.NtreU. TERMS, IX ADVANCE : Oneyear. Mix months Three months .$5 00 ! 75 I DO ADVERTISEMENTS Inserted on Reasonable Terms. For the Xew Xorthwest. LITTLE MAIDE. TUK AKTIST. BV JKNSV WILSOS. Near where a crystal, grass-fringed stream Went singing to tlie river. And lost In ntd Mlssonri's sands IU parity ToreverJ . C 3 f Z v Where naught had marred the beauty or The forest, grand and olden, There dwelt the little artist, Maude, With curling hair, and golden. And azure eye, from whose clear depths A beaUeopqu walmlltng;C ' CheerTng her parents, aged and lone. Their deepest griefs beguiling. She watched with Interest the doe And young fawns at their gambols, Xor feared the painted warriors that She met In all her rambles. And offilmes when ihu weary grew Wild violets decked her pillow, While o'er her Itead waved gracefully .The green and golden wlllow. Sparkling and darting In the breeze, The-forest leaver above her Breathed ?vyra wecl welcome to Great Nature's little lover. Thus day by day her soul drank In The bcamles of creation. And o'er mx father's cottage walls She gave to them expression. And strangers, passing, wondered much Why such a girted maidn In plaee so lone and rude as this Had so mneh beauty hidden. Bat as she grew the pictures too Within grew lovelier, Mrouser, THlthe rude sketches o'er the walls Reflected them no longer. Then little Maude grew weary of Her life or Idle dreaming, And tears oa dimmed those gentle orbs, With love and genius beaming. " . i - fiat jvondrpui changes' time hath wrought I ow,o-cr me rustic maiden Many a year has come and gone, With clouds and sunbeams laden. The cottage walls have fallen now; So UjUK herorrows perished; And HvTng'pleilrres grace the home Where little Maude Is cherished. JUDITH MILES; --m flit Whnt 'Nbnll Ip Done with Her? bv Jilts, r. r. victor. Entered, according to the Act of Congress, In the year by Mrs. F. F. Victor, In the Office or the Librarian ofCnngress, at Washing ton Olty.J CHAPTER I. AS UNWKLCOJIE VISITOR. The agent of Spedden's great cattle ranch In Fresno county was paying a visit to a neighboring rancho of less princely dimension, lying upon the bor ders of the Spedden estate, and sand wiched between it and the newly-sown graln-flelds bordering upon a tributary of the San Joaquin to tho north and east. Jack Miles, the visited, had never beeii particularly friendly to CarlShultz, the visitor, albeit Shuitz was a man of some note in the county, by virtue llrst of the large property he represented, and somewhat also on his own account as a youngnian of education and shrewd busi ness habits. Perhaps it was the superior air which education and knowledge insensibly impart to a man, and which the young German possessed in rather an unusual degree, that provoked the an tagonisni of the Texan ranchcro. "He needn't put on none of his frills to me," Miles was accustomed to say to Juditb.after each of Carl's visits. "It don't take such a heap o' sense to look after a couple o' hundred 'vacqueros' as he calls 'em. calls 'em cattle herders." And beautiful sixteen-year-old Judith answered never a word, but kept quietly at her work in the low, two-roomed house which was her father's mausipn, and- In the "loft" of which was her bed-room and library the latter a pos session eutirely unknown to her father. Not that Jack Miles was opposed to a proper amount of "edication;" on the contrary, he was rather pleased, and proud too, when Judith in her fourteenth year learned to read of a stray Yankee, whom her father had engaged as herds man; and made such advancement that in the course of a few months she could read to him the life of Daniel Boone, to whose family Miles boasted being re lated. Beyond being ablo to do this, Miles saw no need of "book-larnin'; " and was almost as setagainst ibeschool- master as he was against the telegraph and railroad, seeing that the one usually preceded and heralded the other. His family had been gradually moving on, justln advance of these innovations, for two or three generations; and helwasu't a-goln ter have 110 telegraph near his house, a jcarryin' of the neighborhood news to all creation; nor no durned railroad, nut her, ruunin' over and stampedin' his cattle, like he'd hcern tell on." In spite of his objections, however, Miles was forced to sea a telegraph line extend through his county, though not near enough to endanger the family pri vacy; and had even become in a measure reconciled to it, Inasmuch as the poles afforded convenient posts for his cattle to rub themselves against Itgavehlm a grim satisfaction, Indeed, to observe that these obnoxious poles, originally sawn square, had been rubbed so much and so long that they had been smoothly I rounded off to a height corresponding' with the height of his cattle; and if he did not understand the allusion when Carl Shuitz said that "if tho stock had not-squared the circle, they had circled theJuiife,". he laughed boisterously all the' came'; for'he understood the joke to VOLXT3UE III. be against the telegraph, whatever it meant. But the railroad that was coming down from the north, gaining upon him every week, as he heard tliat was some thing he could not remain to see: henco his land was offered for sale, and his face was once more turned toward Texas. ! It was about this land that Shuitz had come over to see him in the morning. The proprietors of the Speddens estate were casting covetous eyes upon the possessions of the smaller much men; and whenever the land contiguous to their own could be purchased, they wero making arrangements to include it within their own boundaries. The men who offered land for sale were disaffected for about the same reason Miles pro fessed, and sold out cheaply being wil ling and eager to part with it at the ame time tho shrewd speculator be came equally willing and anxious to buy. Miles, however, had seen some ankee farmers coming in around him. and turning the wild pastures into grain fields, even though they 'were forced to hire vacqueros to keep his cattlo out of their grain, In a country where fencing was well-nigh Impossible. This kind of enterprise, while it disgusted the old Texan, who wanted "elbow-room," failed not at tho same time to give him a greatly increased and continually in creasing estimate of the value of his un til led acres. The two men, the agent of a great estate, and the owner of a much less one, were sharpening wits agafnst one another this morning. As always is the case where culture is pitted against ignorance, the man of the world has the advantage in all excett doeired obstinacy; in that quality the ignorant man is sure to excel. "It ain't no use talkin'," said Jack Miles, raising his voice as lie lost assu rance in Ills own ultimate success: and starting up nervously from the covered way between me two rooms, began pac ing the ground outside. "Itain'tnouse talkin'. The Speddens ain't agoin' to hev an acre ov my laud Hhout they pay me my price fur it: not ef I siav here till I rot an' like enouch I shall!" he added, casting a glauce northward toward the still invisible, but Inevitable railroad. "Very well," returned Mr. Shuitz. calmly. "I shall report your answer to them; but I do think Jt extremely doubtful if they make any further of fers. In less than a year they will have bought up all the small ranches on the other side of your place, and will have yon so closed in that you will require vacqueros on every side to keep separate your herds; or you must fence at a cost of five or six hundred dollars per mile. I tnink now is your time to sell: but you must do as pleases yourself." So saying, Mr. Shuitz rose from the bench, put on his hat, and seemed on the point of taking leave. But chang ing his Intention, he hesitated a mo ment, re-seated himself, and returned to the point of attack. "It may be true," he said, frankly, "that we do not offer you all that your land will be worth when tho railroad has brought It to market; but we do of fer you all that It is worth at the pres ent time. These railroad men will come upon you before long for tho right of way, and you will have to grant it to them. Certainly they will pay you womething; but for all of it you will not be satisfied. You will find in it many disadvantages which already I know you do not wish to encounter. You will say to yourself that you do not wish to have your stock frightened or run over; that you do not like the nolso of the trains, and that you are in danger of being burned out by the sparks from the locomotives. Is it not so? Of course. Then if you take what we oiler you, it is within your power to purchase a larger boiy of land away from the rail road, which in a short time will again increase in value and afford you a sec ond chance of realizing a good profit off a small investment. If it is any induce ment toward concluding a bargain, I will agree to take half your stock at a fair price, with tho land, and thus re lieve you of a possible encumbrance in making a new settlement." But Jack Miles was deaf to argument and persuasion alike. Knitting to gether his black brows in an expression i of dogged fierceness and obstinacy, he paused in his restless march up and down up and down in the bit of shade cast by the two-roomed house, first to eject a yellow stream of tobacco Juice several feet In advance of his position, then to cast out of his mouth an enor mous quid, and finally to give utter ance to bis determination: "'Taln't no use argefyln with me, Mr. Shuitz. I ain't a-goln' ter sell my land Hhout glttln' my figures for it; and I ain't agoin' to guv them railroad fellers any right ov way, nuther. They can just cut around me through them other ranches you're a-thlukln' of buyin'. I reckon they won'tdisturb me none theu, nor my cattle no more." And without further ceremony tho rough old Texan turned on his heel and walked off in the direction of a group of herdsman. In the family-room within hearing of this conversation the young house keeper, Judith Miles, had been pursu ing her daily tasks, monotonous, if not wearisome. Her only companion was "UttleKatie," fivelyearsold, so-called in memory of the mother, now dead, who PORTLAND, OREGON, ITKIDA-Y, DECEMBER S, 1873. had been Jack Miles well-beloved wife, Kate, whose loss he felt now as keenly as he did the day of her death, which was the day of the birth of little Katie. Well as he loved the child born In sor row, Miles was of the temperament which could not brook interruption, and Judith had been careful to keep her little sister out of tho way while the talk about the land sale had been going on. But now that Katie saw the way clear, she made a rapid maneuver, and escap ing tho vigilance of her guardian rushed impetuously into the arms of the young German, whose great favorite she knew herself to be. Carl received her with enthusiasm. "Ah, little Katie, .thou art charm ing this morning! Now that I have kissed thee three times thou must take me to see thy pretty mamma-sister; wilt thou not? Has sho been good to thee ? is she well and happy ? Carl Shuitz was no more tho cool man of busluess as he caressed and talked to the child of his morose neighbor. Holding Katie by the hand he once more entered the rude porch, and stood upon the threshold of the family-room with head uncovered, and smiling brightly. As he entered the room Judith's face was averted while sho combed the long dark tresses of her shining hair; but she had caught the sound of his footsteps, aud turning half reluctantly, bade her visitorgood-morn-ing before completing her toilet with a hair-pin and a bow of cheery ribbon, the effect of which was far prettier than she knew, or the bit of broken mirror which reflected her beauty had fully Informed her. The slight cmbarrasment of her man ner detracted nothing from that out ward perfection which Carl Shuitz, with an eye of an amateur in art, knew he might travel half the world over and not find again. Perhaps it was the un conscious avowal his eyes made of this conscious thought that brought so bright a color to the cheek of the Texau cattle-dealer's daughter. Certain it was that a shvness hardlv compatible with the Intimacy of their acquaintance interposed this morning a delicate and Intanclble obsta cle to that freedom of intercoursn th young German might have thought de sirable, at the same time that It added the subtle charm mero physical ner- fection often lacks. "With a slow and graceful reluctance Judith placed for her visitor tho chair which house-wifely hospitality would not permlther to withhold, and with soft persistance urged his acceptance, all the wliile aided by Katie's more vehement invitations, which Carl would have sworn she would have been glad to silence. In no wise abashed by the nrettv stiff ness of Judith's manner, Mr. Shuitz seated himself comfortably, at the same time giving Katie a perch upon his knee. "Well, how goes it, Miss Judith? Have you read the books, and are they such as you like?" "I have read the most of them," an swered the young girl with more com posure, now that books, and not herself, were tho object of contemplation; "and Hike them why should I not? but I doubt if I understand them all." "What! cannot you understand? You with your so quick understand ing?" "I do not think," said Jndlth, mod estly, "that I can get all the meaning out of 'Faust.' " "Ah, that may well enough be; ithas puzzled older heads than yours, Miss Judith. You must read it again when you are twenty-five, or perhaps forty; then it will come easier to you." At which Judith laughed a merry little laugh, aud answered wilh the fore cast of sixteen: "If my understanding is so long in coming I shall have a very stupid life Indeed." "Ob, I do not know that; but I do know you could never bo stupid. I only think that most people devote the first half of their lives to feeling and imagi nation, and do not begin to think very profoundly till that period is past; es pecially the ladies." Judith, who did not know anything about John Stuart Mill, and the rest of the advocates of woman's equality, an swered simply: "It would seem so, If the books one reads arc fair samples of men and wom en. With real men and women I am very little acquainted; but the men I I have known are truly less imaginative than the women; and have less feeling, too, I believe." "Ah, I am sorry you say that, Miss Judith. Thy sister must not say that, must she Katie? Thou knowest I have much love, dost thou not, pretty one? It is only if one dare say what one's feelings are; and thy Carl is afraid, little Katie. Tell tuy sister Carl is afraid, but that he has much feeling." It was well that just at this juncture little Katie, not interested in this talk, so much above her comprehension, sud denly made a move to search her friend's pockets, and iu doing so, brought forth some paper-covered volumes together with one in a neat green binding, and lastof all, a paper of "dulces." "See! see!" shecriedloJudItb,break- ing open the package in such haste that tho sweetmeats iwere scattered about the floor. Eyen the -donor became for Fbkb Bpf.fch, Free Press, Free Vrxtvur. tho moment indifferent to her, in her eagerness to recover the precious "goodies." "Oh! " exclaimed Carl, wilh an hu morous air of injury; "even Katie cares not for me, and will not speak in my defense." Then quickly changing his manner "When we are veryyoung wo are often too sure of our feelings, and when we grow old we become, perhaps, too doubtful." It did not occur to Judith to inquire how a matt no more than twenty-six, or twenty-eight at the utmost, had be come possessed of so much philosophy, whether experimentally or not. To the eyes of sixteen even twenty-six is in vested with wisdom and dignity almost past attaining to; and Judith's Ignor ance of "real men and women," as she had avowed, was so complete as to leave her no ground of comparison. Her father, her brother, the herds men, and an occasional traveler, now aud then a gentleman, as she instinct ively named such and such an one of the unknown personages who called at her father's door for rest and refreshment, constituted the world as it existed for her. Iu all her brief life she had never known a dozeu persons of her own sex, and never a lady. Often she spent whole days, particularly aftor books had come into her possession, figuring to herself different classes of people, and different positions in life. She had used the imagination she confessed to, very freely, until she had come to live in an Ideal world how Ideal sho fcltsho could not know but very unliko that with which she was daily brought in contact. Into this world of imagination her real acquintances seldom intruded. Un doubtedly Mr. Shuitz came there oftencr than any other; but that, she told her self, was because there was no one else to come; at least no one who was fitted for its peculiat society. Often when sho detected her ideal young man in looking aud acting likoMr. Shultz,or ut tering his very sentences, she reproached herself for having no more originality, and was conscious of being too close an Imitator of one model. Did Mr. Shuitz know this, and was ho generalizing on this knowledge when he made that remark about the too great confidence in youth, and the sus piciousness of advanced life? It was this question whidh presented itself to Judith's mind, and caused the pretty blush of modesty to blossom so rosily upon her check. But Judith need not have feared. There never lived a man of twenty-six who could picture to him self with any correctness tho "interior" of the wonder-world of a girl's imagi nation. Tho memory of that dainty chamber Is unspeakably sad and tender in all that portion of our lives after ex perience has closed the door forever on credulity. Mr. Shuitz was young still, though he talked so venerably. Ho was good-lookingafter the fresh, blonde stylo of his nation; and vain after the nature of his manhood; and pretty well versed in that society of which Judith knew nothing; moreover, amiable, and with the good taste to admire, possibly to become In terested in, so rare a product of pure nature as Jack Miles' daughter. All these qualities conspired to render him courteous, friendly, and even tender in Ills intercourse with Judith. When it is added that no other woman who could possibly interest either his imagi nation or his feelings could be found within a day's ride of the Spedden es tate, it is easy to understand how he found pleasure in cultivating tho ac quaintance of this one, even in tho face of the evident opposition of her father. In the meantime Katio has gathered up her bon-bons. "Why didn't you bring some for Jude, too?" she asked, foreseeing with the barbaric selfishness of childhood that she would be called upon to divide with her sister. "Katie, hush!" remonstrated Judith. "Now thy sister is angry with thee, Katie. Give her a dulce, quickly, to mako her love thee again," Carl says with an affectation of alarm. "Jude is not angry," declares the au dacious minx, sitting down on the floor to devour her sweets at leisure. "Child! If you divide not with your sister she will be angry with you, and with me, too, because she has no dulces. Do you not see I am afraid ?" "Then go get her some to mako her love you again," replies Katie, archly, coolly proceeding to feast herself. A second timo Judith commands Katie to "hush!" and turns with pretty confusion to the titlo pages of the new book for refuge from embarrassment, and Carl answers with an air of comical despair: "Thou elf! think not thy sister is mercenary as thou art, to give her love for dulces. If that were so I should have robbed the confectioners long ago, nor wasted my dulces on thee." "They are not wasted I'm eating them," pcrslstedtho saucy imp, her bronze-brown eyes full of laughing de fiance. "Judith never cats dulces when Boono brings them; she always gives them to me. She don't want any." Her brother Booue! Judith snatched at the idea to make a diversion in the conversation. "My brother is going away," she said to her visitor, as If that news were In teresting lb lilm. " ' ' ' "Ah; fib? 'it will betfdneiy.for j-oii." . w.i ia turn rc ir . utt ttm na . ? nm ; . -rr ft-i mm Carl never used his "thees" and "thous" iu speaking to Judith. "Where does he go?" "I think ho goes to some caltle-tnar-ket; he is to take a herd of beeves with him. But I shall try not to feel lonely with so many new books for which I thank you kindly," added Judith, wish ing to be polite, and speaking with the formal phrase she had heard her father use on different occasions. "I need no thanks, Miss Judith. I shall be only too glad if they amuse you. Those English novels lam sure yon will like, and they will seem like society to you. There is nothing like a good novel in solitude. It fills up the empty space about you. It is all very well to read learned books till you tire of too much thinking. And poetry Is very good, too, at times; but if you read a fine poem it creates a loneliness, because it stirs your sympathies and emotions without furnishing a subject for them. With the novel It is different. There you have your scene, your actors, a suc cession of events in short alittlc mimic world in which you can live very pleas antly and without caro or responsibility until it comes to an end." Judith's luminous eyes shone on the speaker who so readily arranged ideas which she recognized as one with those vague and formless thoughts which had occurred to herself in aimless reverie at such times as she had wondered to her self at the different effects upon her mind of different books. How much she admired and desired for herself this analytical power of one who had learned to observe! How great it was to know everything so easily, as Mr. Shuitz did. Carl saw the luminosity of tho beau tiful eyes, and the eager spirit that flut tered on the red lips, that parted in al most reverent attention. The innocent flattery touched him deeper than his vanity. Ho was silent for a moment, drinking in that delicate incense with a little heart-flutter ho had never been conscious of before. "How charming she is," lie thought; and then "She is the daughter of Jack Miles." Ignorant Judith did not seo that thought. Sho was too happily occupied with the pleasure of doing homage to superior wisdom for thinking of herself at all, just then. She had opened the green-bound book absently, and now perceived it to bo a book of poems. "But you have brought me some poems," she said, smiling, and more at ease than she had been, "Arc they of the kind to make me lonely? If so, I must not read them while Booue is away." "No, I do not believe they will affect you in that way. Truly, I brought them to you for your judgment. I would like to know if there is anything in them that can comuieud itself to a pure taste. The poet has made himself famous quite suddeuly but I shall say no more. When you have read them you shall tell me how they impress you." "Sometimes I cannot explain my im pressions, but I shall try to do so iu this case, if only to compare my judgement with yours," said Judith, modestly. "Thank you. To compare our judge mentthat is what I wish." A deep Bigh from the floor arrested the attention of both for the moment. One glanco showed Katie with smeared face and hands, every dulce vanished, re garding them half penitently, and sigh ing with speechless satisfaction at her own surfeited condition. Sho was a beautiful child, and no disguise of awkward dress, or temporary sugar- coating could defraud her of her meed of admiration. She looked so pretty and comical in her droll and silent appeal, that her auditors laughed merrily. Upon that Katie ceased to look repentant, and pouted, as well as the sticky con dition of her facial muscles would per mit. "Go wash your face and hands," bade Judith, when she had done laughing; and, not reluctant to be out of the way of those who wero "making fun of her," Katie dashed into the kitchen without further bidding. Mr. Shuitz rose to take his leave a few moments later and encountered the rogue in the covered way, her face and hands cool, clean and white, and her curls pushed back from the smooth, broad brow, her apron smoothed, and looking the very pink of neatness and propriety. "Thou sprite," said he. "Is this the Katie I beheld a few minutes since? What wilt thou, fairy? " "When are you coming again?" asked Katie, seizing his hand. "How can I tell ? Your sister has not asked me to come again, and I know not if I may come on your invitation. Ask your sister if I may, little one." Judith, who was standing in the door way, blushed. "I did not ask you," she said, timidly, "because I am so young, and because because " "Because you know lam not welcomed by your father. It is quite right; do not think I do not know it is right. But I shall come sometimes, when I think you are out of books, or when I am lonely and must see you aud Katie." "Will you bring me some dulces?" put in that incorrigible sweet-tooth. "Only when you pay for them," said Carl, stooping down. Round his neck went Katie's plump arms- In their checked apron-sleeves, bestowing a most violent hugging, only intermitted when the usual number of klsaes fell NUMBER. 1G. due, all of which Katie understood per fectly. "If you bring Jude dulces she will have to pay you for them, won't she?" asked the child when the ceremony was ended. Judith suddenly disappeared within the house, and Mr. Shuitz with a hasty add!o, waved his hand to Katie and, quickly mounting hi horse, was gone; while the child, seeing herfather a little way off in the prairie, ran to meet him. To be continued. How "Women Voted in Kansas. From the Chicago Balance. We are permitted to publish the fol lowing interesting account of how a number of ladies voted at an election for school-officers irf Kansas. It was written by one of the lady voters to her aunt in this city: Watep.ville, Kan., May 1, 1S73. Mil Dear Aunt:1 have a bit of news for you to-day, which will bo as inter esting as the number of flounces I have put on my last new dress. me society uere is divided between two parties, one wishing to build ud the town and make it a permanent home, the other wishing to stay here while they can make it pay, and then move on. W hen tho new school-house ques tion was agitated, the lattter class on- posed it veliemently, and it was like! y to bo a pretty close struiriile. so the school-party called out the women, and tiiey voted lor tne "bonds" "to a man." So we got the school-house. iiut mat was a very quiet allair. I wroto you when I voted. But this spring, when it came time to elect a new scnool board, tne party that was defeated then was determined to put in their men, at any cost. They rode night and day, electioneering every man in tlie district, and appeared at tlie polls on tno eventful day with beaming countenances, sure of victory. But alas! they had forgotten the women. twenty-one of whom had gathered quietly at a iiouse close at hand, aud ten minutes before the polls were closed, marcued up tncreitue election was new in the new school-house). But my pen falters here I cannot do justice to such a scene. If that did not trv men's souls. to have us walk in so coolly and take their hard-earned victory at the elev enth hour! Just for one instant there were symptoms of trouble; then it all subsided, and everything was as quiet and orderly as if it were at church. They understood it at a glance, and the only thing left for them to do was to challenge our votes. We were all sworn in, and then, instead of going off quietly to our knitting and darning, and giving the men a chauee to-light it out, we set down to take a part iu whatever busi ness there was to transact. That was "the unkiudest cut of all!" Not even give them a chance to swear! for, no tice, nothing of the kind was heard any more than if a company of men and women had met together on any other business. As soon as tlie house was called to or der, the men all sat down and took off Ihrirhal snmplh!nf fhnf n.tw l,ofr.S. uiurnui,iwiiiu(,' never utriure. Happened at an election in tliis town. Those who could notcontaiu themselves went oft to the saloons, where they could feel at home. I noticed one little incident that fii eased me considerably. Harry her ittle boy got uneasy, so I took him out in the vestibule. Presently I heard a couple of men come swearing up the stairs. When they reached tlie door, they stopped short there sat ye twenty icomcn in their best bonnets. They both stepped back, aud one said to the other "I don't want to iro iu there." and down stairs lie went, as still as a mouse. Tho other one pulled off lust old cap, gave a few "claws" at his hair, aud slipped in next to the wall. 1 So I have come to the firm conclusion that American womeu have only to conduct themselves as ladies, and they will bo treated as such by American men everywhere, for there uever can be a more aggravating instance than the one I have just recorded. Affectionately, YoukNikce. Who voted at the last election. Women as Druggists. English pharmaceutical journals ad vocate the natural adaptability of wom en as "dispensers" or "druggists," and several fashion magazines have taken up the idea, with a fair prospect of suc cess for its inauguration. Tlie Queen, a popular organ of Its aristocratic society and fashion, says: "The dispensing of medicine is an occupation in which many women are engaged, In country places frequently, and, not seldom in towns, the wives or daughters of medical men, or of pro fessional druggists, have been taught to Erepare the medicine in general use, and ave acted as very efficient assistants to their relatives. In fact, iu some cases, the business of disnenslntr medicine has been chiefly carried on by the womeu of the family. Recently the dispensing of arugs at tot. diary's Dispensary (now tho new hospital for women) has been entirely in the hands of the properly trained women; and, Indeed, the dis pensary has been U3ed as a kind of school, in which other women have been taught the art of dispensing. The compounding of drugs requires no very laborious exertion. It necessitates care ful attention, accuracy, neatness and method; and the knowledge required is not beyond the reach of women who will apply themselves duly to the neces sary Studies, in laci, me csauiiua tions, such as that of the London Uni versity, which women now pass, involve, attainments of a much more varied kind than those required to become a qualified dispensing druggist," When fashion authorities thus point out the way, there Is hope that useful ness and Independence will become tho mode and that sentimental good-for-nothinguesswill go outof fashion, when tho new regime is established. Truly tho advocates or Woman's Rights may congratulate themselves that tho good seed which they have sown Is bearing such excellent blossoms, whdse fruition will not disappoint their hope. Toledo Journal. Coiin Bread Rcsk. Take six cups of corn-meal, four cupsful of wheat-flour, two cupsful pf molasses, two teaspoons ful of soda, and a little salt; mix this well together,' kneadt It in dough, then mako two cakes of it, and. put it.into the tin or iron pans,-to bake one,-hour. A Jotirpaljor the People. iterated ti the Interests or Humanity. Independent in Politics and Religion. .live to ill Live Isnes, and Thoroughly Radical In Opposing and Exposing the Wrong ot the Masse?. Correspondents writing overassumed slgna lures must make known their names to the Edltor.or no attention -will be given to thelr communications. Sowing and Eeaping. Among the successful busluess houses of San Francisco, Cal., is that of tlie Misses Lelia and May Curtis, wood en gravers. One of Chicago's leading daily newspaper?, in referring to the facti gives the public a sample of the way journalists who are opposed to tlie "woman's movement" take to delude unthinking people into believing that the women who have been the most active iu securing a more enlarged sphere of activity for their sex, are guilty u an unpardonable aud alto gether unnecessary course of conduet; that they are "unsexed" ami "ungen dered monsters" that ought to be frowned down by all refined men and women. The special paragraph to which I refer, reads as follows: "Here is a striking instance of what two practical, coiniuou-sense women can do. Instead of going about the country, haranguing the people on the ories of women's rights, they have de liberately gone to work and taken their rights. The results of the labor, and skill, and sense of these two women are worth more to tho community at large, and to women in particular, than all the pronuueiameutos aud speeches com bined." I wonder did it ever occur to the writer of this paragraph, or of others who think like him, that if it bad not been for a few brave-hearted women persistently writing, and talking, and haranguing, as they term It, for years, for the right of their sex to engage in any occupation for whiclt they were fitted by nature and education, that public opinion, which now does not look altogether unkindly upon a success of this sort, would not have permitted these enterprising sisters to have stepped so fur out of their "sphere" as to engage in such a business. There have been plenty of young women in the past, Just as energetic and just as capable, as far as natural ability was concerned, who were equally as ambitious to do somethingof the sort for a maintenance, but they had not the moral courage to enutend with tlie prejudices of the pub lic and face tho stigma aud social os tracism that would have resulted from such a departure from established cus toms. Yet the writer of this paragraph would carry the idea that all woraetl had ever had to do at any time, was simply to go to work and take their rights to get them. If so, why all tho haranguing? People are not generally such arrant fools as to take trouble to combat what no one objects to their taking! It is a common practice of journalists, and of men generally, in commenting on subjects of this sort, to ignore in this manner what they would very readily perceive if it were a question of personal interest, but it is an obtusene&s of intel lect that no one credits them with, at least those who are moderately intel ligent. It requires no great knowledge of the past nor any very extensive per sonal observation of the present to prove that n great social innovations were ever made, nor important rights of mankind granted, without some one's doingan immense deal of talking, either J 1 ' 3,stle.i 1 aCCOmpilSllCJ. uy tongi p or pen, oeiore tne lact was Human nature in tins -,, - .-. .,.nni.i be better if I said "T;, " for it is men who have hithc. to had the control of matters of this kiwi has never yetshown itself so unselfish as to yield without a strug gle what it lias been educated into be lieving a natural birthright of its own; and men have heretofore considered alL the success and prizes of life in an intei-'' lectual, political or business sense, as rightfully all their own. Tho critic referred to thinks tlie suc cess of theso young women ought to furnish a useful lesson and example to those Whom he sueeringly remarks are "scolding and whining about thair wrongs." There lie very ingeniously continues lo ignore an important fact, which is, that the women who led oft'as pioneers iu the labor of elevating wom an's material and political status were most of them persons of middle age be fore they had acquired wisdom enough and freedom from domestic cares, to bring the subject before the public. Hence, though their wisdom might fit them to teach others and point out the way, they would not be likely to feel it was a part of their mission to attempt to compete witli men who had had years of preparatory education. JJesides, it takes one class of minds to plan and point out the way, and another sort to execute. Women as much need the auxiliaries of energy aud sanguine hopes as well as rudimentary knowl edge, to secure success, as men, and can no better do without these aids. Yet while these noble pioneers in the labor of woman's advancement may have grown too old before tho barriers of prejudice and custom were leveled to avail themselves of the opportunities they had secured for younger and more ambitious hearts, they have not neces sarily become too old to still continue actively eugaged with tougue and pen -in helping on the gooil cause, for no knowledge is so good as that won by ex perience, and no women so well know how to appreciate tlie value of the op portunities that are opening to women as those who have been deprived of them, and to whom they only came when years had laid an embargo 011 their physical powers. JJalance. Tea in Japan. A recent English Blue-book must be acuriosity. It is ail about ten, with nine quaint engravings by a Japanese artist, representing the plant in all stages of its growth. Tea lias been grown in Japan for a hundred and fifty years, but until the recent - foreign demand but little attention was paid to tho plantations, and but very slight enlargement took place. The native demand was about station ary, as was the population. An In crease of fifteen per cent, annually may be counted upon for the next few years at least. The best tea is produced in Yamashlro, a small province ninety miles long by twenty-livo broad. The climate is mild snow seldom falling to more than the depth of one inch and damp, and tho soil good. Tea is planted from tho seeds, which are gathered in autumn. The ground is prepared as for vegetables. Holes about two feet in diameter are dug, and the seed placed, therein with guano. The plant shows above the surface in fifty days; at the end of the. first year it is about two inches in height; at the end of the sec- 4 midyear nearly a foot. In the fourth year the leaves are first leered, and ,. the older the tree the bet er the ! crop . Japanese tea is expo1 aIn303t "T sively to this.country.