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About The new Northwest. (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887 | View Entire Issue (June 14, 1878)
KXK. A. J. rtlWAT. galur (B rreprlHsr A Journal forthePeopIe. Devoted to the Interestsof Humanity. Independent In Politics and Religion, alive to all Live Issues, and Thoroughly RadlolInOppo'j,ngandErposlngthe'WronB ot the Masses. ) FFICE-CoR.Klt.jKT A VuBJUSTOXflTUR TKRM8, IN ADVANCK: One year. HI monUK Ttree monUii, 1 Free Speech,' Free ritEss, Fuee People. Corres pondents writing over assumed signa tures most make known tbelr names to tbe Editor, or no attention will be glvea to their eommnnleatlons. ADVERTISEMENTS Inserted OB Term a POTJ.TIjA.1VD, OREGON, FRIDAY, JUNE 1-1, 1878. IVTJIBErt 39. HER LOT OB, Hr Kfc 1'rotectetf. Bv Mas. A. J. DCTTTWAY. A"TH.K OF "JCOITtt BEID," "EI.MCJT BOWll,'' "AMIE AXU HK.KEY LEE," "TBI HA PPT HOME," WOIASI KFHCRK," " ADCI MORBISOX," ETC., KTCi ETC Entered, according to Act ofCoDcmv.ln the year 1S78, by M. A. J. Duo I way, In the offleeof the Librarian of Congress at Washington City. CHAPTER XX. When the court was called on the fol low I off morn i tig, the rush for the scene of trial wm simply indeaeritaM. Hu manity is always ou the alert to gratify ita prurience or solve a mystery. The story bad gone abroad that my httsbaud had been accused of murderioK a courte san, under very questionable circa in -stances, which promised very naughty developments iu detail a the trial should proceed, and this was enough to arouse the morbid eagerness of every unkempt raqucro, greaser, white man, or negro within a radius of a hundred miles. Naturally, my husband was a gentle man in feeling, and' bad been made more thoroughly so by genteel bringing np. Wben be was not iu his enps, he shrank from anything like coarse or in delicate conversation with as ruoch in tuitive reserve as a woman might. And now that he had been sober for mouths, and had had time to recover much of his native delicacy, I knew that he would chafe under the dread ordeal be fore him with infinitely greater gutter ing than though be had not beeu guilty of much which he would gladly have forgotten. There is no scourge like the whip of eouscience with which to lash the guilty sinner. A Bunyau could lan guish in prison in the enjoy tnentf the fullest serenity of soul, because he knew himself guiltless of offence toward God and man. A Servetus could burn at the stake with dignity and fortitude, for be was not ashamed of the truth for which he was condemned to death; bat my poor husband bad none of the martyr feeling to sustain him. He deserved humiliation and disgrace, and he felt the situation far more keenly than though he ha.) been .guilty of actually murdering a fellow-man iu the beat of passion. The eoonxel for the prosecution was an assiduous applicaut for glory as a State's attorney. To add to hi ardor, there was very soon to be a new State election, iu which be looked to receive the full vote of his party for another official term; and what, to him, was a hitman life, wbeu weighed in the scale against his personal ambition T The first witness that appeared upon the scene was a polieemau, who had boarded with me for months at the A&ara Houe. He was a fine-looking man, with kindly visage aud excessive urbanity, and I could plainly see that for my sake he was disponed to favor the prisoner, even while I could not help understanding that also for my s-ake be would feel better satisfied if my hus band were placed, by law, beyoud Uie reach of opportunity to briug me fur ther trouble. The testimony of this witness was brief aud to the point. lie had known the missing woman well; had last seen Iter at the gambling den in company with the prisoner at the bar; had no ticed that she had won the heavy stakes the prisoner had played, aud had re marked that be was very much excited over the result of the game; had seeu the two leave the dive in each other's company; had seen them approach the lodgiug-bouse, where the deceased was known to reside; had heard angry words on the part of the prisoner, and gleeful defiance on the part of bis gay compan ion, but had been called away by a street brawl in another direction, and did not see the prisoner strike deceased. The next wituvee, also a polieemau, had been attracted to the door-step where the missing woman had last been seen by the cry of murder; hut when he reached the got the deceased was no where to be seen, though the prisoner at the bar was still staudiug on the door step. He did not arrest the prisoner, because no one. bad indicated that be was the culprit. Neither witness had seen the prisoner strike deceased. Thus far it seemed that there was indeed little ground upon which to base an action. How the grand jury could have found a true bill upon t-uch meager testimony was not dear. Then the counsel for prosecution asked for further time. Some of bis most im portant witnesses had yet to come from Calaveras, be said, aud it was necessary. in order to subserve tbe ends and aims 1 of justice, that further time be given. The Court graciously granted a recess till one o'clock. "Now, Judge Downy, tell me why I cannot talk to my husband," I said, ap proaching him as a diflident, half frighted child would approach an aus tere pedagogue. "You can talk to him, my dear madam, but only through his attorney." "Bot why do you enjoin such a regu lation upoa aoybody ?" "Oh, Kf the universal custom." "And if it should become universally customary for people to have small-pox, you'd want It too, in order to be fash ionable," I said, bitterly. He smiled grimly. "Ladle understand w little about law that It is always difficult to satisfy thetn," he sahl, dryly. A sharp retort was upon my tongue, bat I remembered 1kw utterly helpless and powerless women were when they eotikl be In no Sjsoee law-makers, and I with difltaulty liekl my peace. There was no comfort for me in talk-N log te Gerald through a third party, so I returned with my children to the ho tel and sought my room, sot knowing or, Indeed, eating what was to become of me br mine. The lexeitefflMt and fatigue bad In duced b- racking headache, from which I was stilleriiig the Intense torture to which the overworked nerves of women are so often periodically subjected. To add to my discomfort, my baby Kthel wm attacked with an aeute disorder, which required strong nerves and good health to successfully conquer, anil at I had neither, I was In despair. "What's tbe use of living, anyhow?" wailed, in desperation. "I've seeu nothing but "trouble since my earliest years. My mother before me experi enced nothing but disappointment and sorrow; my children after me are to tie doomed to tbe same dreadful fate. I wish to God we were all dead !" My soliloquy was cut short by the un expected entrance of Mrs. Motley. "I heard you !" she exclaimed, re proachfully, as, bursting into my room like a sunbeam, she brought with her an indefinable radianee that had the perfume of wild Houers in it- "I heard you ! You're growing morbid aud silly, and you need a counter irritant. Give tbe baby over to my tender mercies while yon take a nap. She needs a bath; that's all. You've kept her for a day and a half iu that abominable court-room, filled with an Invisible floating compound of vile whisky and vile tobacco, ami the child, being hu man, has succumbed, as well as yourself. Don't atop to ask me any questions, but take .V nap. I'll talk to you wlieu you feel better." There was no alternative but to obey, which I did ainthetleally, though I somehow felt as if my interest In life was returning, aud I no longer contem plated po&sible suicide. For two hours I lay In a dreamy languor; and then, the time for assem bling at court having again arrived, I roe with diflieulty and repaired thither, taking with me my child Gerald, and leaving baby Ethel with Mrs. Motley. My husband was already In the pris oner's box, aud the stupid jury occupied tbeir accustomed plaee, eager to feast their eyes and ears, as was the entire crowd of lookers-mi, with a revelation which gave promise of much unsavory detail. Elder Ciialmers had by this time ar rived, ami was placed upon the witness stand. My blood fairly froze as I watched him. Ity his side stood my friend, Mr, Motley, as benevolent looking as ever, while Gerald gased into the grizzly bearded, grim-visaged faee of his enemy and mine, with the restless air of a pin ioned eagle. "What Is your name?" asked the prosecuting attorney. "Clinlmerc, sir." "And your occupation ?" "I am a minister of the gospel by pro fession." "Are you engaged in your profession at present ?" "No, sir." "Tlien what is yor business ?" "At present I deal In mining stocks. My heal tli failed In the ministry, and I was com pellet! to abandon tbe profession for the present." "Did you know the woman, Isabel Martinez, of whose murder the prisoner at the bar stands accused ?" "I did, slightly." "Where did you know her?" "At tbe San Francisco stock ex change." "When V "Last summer." "What was her occupation 7" ".She was said to be a confidence woman." "Did you know her Intimately?" Gerald leaned forward, bis chains clanking. The witness bloebed. "I knew her by sight." "Did you know that the prisoner was on friendly terms with her?" "I did." "Were you aware that they quar reled V "I was." "Now, state when, where, ami under what circumstances you last saw them together." "They had left the gambling den, where Captain Grey had lost heavllv. aud had gone to the front door-steps of her I.Higings. I had not observed them closely, but they might have stood and talked unnn t .1 . . . ' uyui-Btep ior uait an hour. I saw Mrs. Grey dogelnir tlmm in a suspicious manner, and that caused me to watch them. She is known to be a violent termagant, awl I thought there would be a scene, so I was Inter ested" "I object!" interrupted Gerald's coun sel, promptly. "Mrs. Grey Is not on trial, and the witness will not refer to her again." "The objection la well taken," said Judge Downy. "Proceed." "The Captain seemed to be sorry that he had gambled, and wben he re proached himself and her, she laughed derisively. Then he felled her to the eatth and ran away." "And you are sure that he killed her?" "Not entirely sure. I was afraid of being called as a witness, and so I hur ried away." Gerald leaned forward again, his chains clanking, eyes and mouth open, aud every nerve In a tremor of excite ment. The prosecuting attorney "was evi dently dissatisfied with the testimony, but he relied upon his eloquence iu con vincing the jury, so he leaned back In bis chair, with a smile that was child-like and bland, and rested bis case. Then came the defense. I sat close to my husband's attorney, my eyes, ears, mill brain alike on the alert. "Don't ask a question till I have sug gested It," I whispered, inwardly won dering why I could not ask my own questions outright, and thus lie my own lawyer, and save the exorbitant expeuse of an attorney's fees. Tli us admonished, he did wholly as bidden. "Captain Grey, Is the woman, Isabel Martinez, dead ?" he asked, with em phasis. "I do not know," Mild Gerald. "Elder Chalmers, it the woman, Ita lei Martinez, dead ?" That dlgnltury did not anticipate the question. "She has not been seen since she mys teriously disappeared with the prisoner at the liar, aud her last known cry was murder. I should say there was strong presumptions evidence of her death," was the frigid and cautious reply. Gerald whispered to his counsel, and they exchanged some words that I could not hear. Mr. Motley scribbled something on a piece of paper, and passed it to the Judge. "What kind of a looking person was this woman of whom you speak?" asked His Honor. ;V blonde, with baby face and coal black eyes," was the prompt reply. And you say she has never beeu seen sluce the time when the prisoner was known to strike her, and that her last word was murder t" "Yes, sir." Again Mr. Motley wrote a sentence and passed It to the Judge. "We will now rest the case till to morrow at one P. M., when we will have still another witness," said the Judge. I was mystified. So anxious was I to know all that I could with diflleulty re strain my feelings of impatience, but I saw they were preparing a surprise fori me of some kind, and I hardly dared to even wonder what it might be. That night I dreamed again. But tbe visions were confused and changing, like the figures iu a kaleidoscope. I saw before me turbid waters, mighty mountains, darkling forests and leagues of bog and mire. And through It all I floundered, carrying a little ohild. Here aud there was a bright oasis, from from whose center welled a gurgling fountain; but these spots were small, and the bogs grew close to their very edges. Sometimes I would seem to pause, weary and child-burdened, In some gloomy grotto, and there, in spite of every attempt I made to shut out the sight, I would again behold the bur nished gleam of those coal-black eyes. Morning found me 111 and prostrate. Mrs. Motley was bending over me with kindly interest, her glorious self-sacri fice an ever-abiding bles-ing, and, to my surprise and joy, Dr. Suydenham was there also. "Am I dead, or am I dreamlug?" I asked, my eyes and temples fairly burst ing with the racking pain that tortured me. "I should say neither," answered the doctor, cheerily. "Where's Gerald ?" "Now, my little one, listen to me, and never do you mind Gerald. He'll do well enough. Here's your medicine. We must make you well the first thing." "But how cameyou here? I thought you were Iu Melbourne." "And can't I travel as well as you, little one?" "I suppose so. But will Gerald get free?" "I'm afraid he will," said the doctor, In a badgorlng way. "Atauy rate, he's in far less danger than you are. Why don't you ask about the children ?" "01), they're all right. Mrs. Motley's here, and will take care of them. I'm only worried about my husband." But I soon sank under the influence of opiates, aud for days-thereafter the things of time aud sense were to me as a sealed book. To b continued.) The greatest oi all power Is thought power. That it may multiply most rap idly and produce its greatest eflects It is essential that there should be no barrier placed iu the way of free speech. The ! right of free speech rests on simple jus tice. Free speech Is the basis of progress In knowledge, the guaranty of liberty, tlie antidote of revolution, and tbe corner-stone of religious freedom. The churches ought to be the first to rally In defense of free snppoh. for thor nr ita I children. Dr. E. Jt. Foote. George Eliot is engaged upon a new j novel entitled "The Lifted Veil." OUB WASHINGTON LETTER. To the Editor of the New Northwest: Oneof our wealthy citizens has erected a grand monument here for the perpetu ation of his memory. Itlsuotlu "storied urn or animated bust," or huge pile of marblo Iu our beautiful Oak Hill Ceroe tery, where sleep hundreds of our ce lebrities; but it is a charitable institu tion, reared at a heavy expenditure and endowed quite as liberally. The citizen Is W. W. Corcoran, and his monument, or benefaction, rather, is the "Louise Home," an Irntneuse and magnificent six-story building, at the corner of rir teenth street and Massachusetts Avenue, Intended as a home for Indigent gentle women. It crowns a beuutlfal terrai e, and overlooks Le Droit park iu the east, Mt. Pleasant ou the north, while in the west, the elegant mansions of Ex-Senator Stewart, of Nevada, and Boss Shep herd loom high above the surrounding buildings, greeting the loftiness of "Louise Home." Georgetown, also, lie spread nut iu the distance, all flanked by the beautiful Potomac. Like the Taj Mahul of India, it is ever repeating the one name which "sums all beauties, graces, aud qualities" dear to him who mourns, and would forever Honor the memory of his deceased wife aud child through the temple of charity. At the front of its grounds stands the eques trian statue of General Seott. Approach ing from the east, the building greets the eye with Its elevated square, Its lofty tower, and Innumerable windows look lug at us through climbing myrtles aud honeysuckles. A serene repose rests on everything, and at once gives the visitor a sense of rest. The main entrance Is on -Massachusetts Avenue, and Is reached by steps rising on the terrace, and lauds upon a large portico overlooking the gardens of flowers and choice shrubbery ou the east and west, enclosed by an iron ornamental fence. Entering at this door, we are admitted to a large hall with a marble pavement rtf block ami marble ties, from where the main staircase of massive proportions rises to the upper stories. From the outset one Is impressed with the elegauce and per manence of tbe architecture. The left of thhi hall opens into the library, a room of ample size, containing cases of books, a reading-table strewn with the daily papers aud periodicals. The furniture of the room is covered with green leather; the carpet a soft brussels. Sus pended over tbe marble mantle is a life sized portrait of Mr. Corcoran. Lead ing from this to the last, and connected by folding-doors, Isthecommittee-room, where meets in council the nine lady directors every Saturday, who, with the matron, constitute the muuagemeiit un der Mr. Corcoran. Miss Hunter, the ma tron, tall, with dark hair and eyes, dressed In plain black, is an ideal for the position she occupies. The ladles' parlor adjoins the committee-room ou the south, attached to which Is a half octagon verauda, screened from a too obstruslvo sun by a profusion of vines, It-Is in this room that Mr. Corcoran has placed the portraits of his deceased wife and daughter. Seeing them, we can appreciate the seerH Impulses of his goodness. Mrs. Corcoran wears a white frilled cap, which exquisitely harmon izes with her sweet spiritual face. Tbe daughter, Mrs. Eustice, now dead some five years, must have been the father's pride. Hers is a lovely face, patterned somewhat after his, but with the moth er's sweetness of expression. The piano belonging to the daughter when a girl is in this room with other prized relics. Here in the afternoon the ladies congre gate to chat or engage their time as suits their elderly tastes. The long French window's look out upon tho well cared flower beds, and a smooth-shaved lawn. Leaving this, we enter the ma tron's secretary, handsomely fitted for the puriose. The principal object of interest here is an old-fashioned portrait of a young girl of flue features. It be longs to one of the gray-haired old la dles, and Is a relic likeness of herself, "when she was young." Passing from here, we enter the grand court, or hall, open to the roof, from where It la lighted, Its first story walls are hung with the private pictures of Mr. Corcoran, placed here at his breaklng-up of house-keeping. Klsiug one above another are five tires of corridors, which are accessible by the main stairway, au Interior stair way, and an elevator, especially pro vided for the additional comfort of the invalids. Passing to the east end of the court, a door opens upon tbe principal portion of the grounds, which descend ofl the terrace iu a beautiful prospect of lawn, winding walls, lined with shrub berv nnd flowers and choice trees. The infirmary looks out upon all the beauty of tho surroundings, and for Its internal comfort no pains and expense has been spared. SjKitless linen, choice flowers, anil all tho delicacies that charm an In valid's eye are tastily disposed about. This same care of the physical and ns thetic comfort of these elderly ladles characterizes the private apartment, Tbey breakfast at eight, and dine at two, and at six cheerfully discuss the tonics of the day over tea. As a last care, this great benefactor has purchase! large lots In Oak Hill Cemetery, where they are to sleep In their last resting place. rEJAX. Washington, D. C May 24, 1S78. Wmnfc Mnulton says: "I have only one J my confidential frienu, anu sue Dears name." My Probate Pilgrimage. In looking back over my year's work iu New England, over the miles and miles of streets aud up-stalrs and down stairs, and of hills and dales traversed while selling the second edition of my book ou "Probate Confiscation," I feel, taking it all iu all, that the measure of success which crowned my efforts was commensurate with the labors. The welcomes which have greeted me, the words of cheer which have strengthened me, the hand-pressures which have thrilled me,' the heart-throbs which have responded to mine, the faces which I have looked into, faces met aud (Hissed in the tuld-oceau of life, whoe tths I siiull never cross again, all these things, or the remembrance of them, are like the perfume of fresh flowers. They invest past toil and weariness with a halo "' IJ? luonotaln regions overpast, In parpie distance fair." ISeautiruI New England ! With your reformers who have stood aud are standing for justice, in the sunlight of youtu, in the glory ot maturity, in the grandeur oi age. lhelr footprints, like the footprints of impels, are traceable everywhere. They have smoothed the rough way for those that follow. Their names ami deeds stand out upon the imges of present and future history in letters of flame, as fadeless as the dav. as lasting as the hills. God bless them, every one 1 1 see by the last Journal that Senator Abbott, of Lowell, has found a tongue. He was perfectly reticent on the wid ow's rights question, although one of the three who constitute the probate and chancery committe. Probably he only makes a noise on great occasions. I am glud he lias unfurled his flag. There is uothlng like knowing one's stripe. I wish, for tbe sake of my bill, which fie and Mr. White and Mr. Gardner "sot on" and killed, lie had lived fifty years ago. Tiiey should have lived hi the times when men "drank a glass of wiue at a fuueral" and a quart at a feast; when mu-cular Christianity in the shape of lathers In Israel put out of church doors weak mothers Iu Israel for during to lift up their subjugated voices In prayer and suppliculion iu holy masculine temples, asking God for strength to endure their manifold toils, trials, ami privations. These were the good old times of tyrannical husband and subjugated wife. Praise and thanks to the Uiverof all gootls, those times are forever past, and uothlng will resurrect them. Evil ilnvs tbev were, when i womeii were looked uimn by a large i nronortion of mmikiiul ns nnlv fit for household drudges. Better be the mother of one lion than of a dozen jack asses. The world is not sullering for want of population as it Is for tbe want of quality. senator Abbott advises women to "stop runniug after 'isms,' mind their hus bands, and look after their nurseries." But what am I to do, who have no hus band to "mind," no "nursery to look after," and no baby to put in the nur sery ? What would a nursery amount to without a baby in it? And what are the 63,000 busbandless women n Massachusetts, aud the 000.000 spinsters of Great Britain to do about 'obedience and nurseries 7" My ad vice, which I, unlike doctor's prescrip tions, take myself, is this: "Obey the dictates of your own conscience, and cultivate flowers." A man is as much out of place iu a floral nursery as he would be suckling babies. Here is the rough draft of my bill, changed some what from Its old wording, which proved such an eye-sore to the fastidious Mr. White, of Plymouth. Its founda tion is laid on simple justice. Nothing more, uothiug less. 1. That every widow who Has any In terest In her deceased husband's estate. shall have the same right to claim an administratorship, to serve conjointly with the executor or executors named iu the will of said deceased, as she lias wben the estate Is tutestate. 2. That no act or Instrument made by an executor or executors Is valid with out tlie widow's endorsement. 3. That every widow. legally compe tent shall have the sole guardianship of the persons of her minor children. nils bill, defeated iu the Massachu setts Senate of 1S7S, I intend to bring before every legislature In New i.ng laud, and the legislature of New York during the nest session of general court. 1 sincerely hope that every earnest be liever iu a widow's right to have an in side instead of an outside view of the settlement of the estate which she has helped to earn, will come to tlie aid of the bill. Local influence will do much toward securing Its passage. Consider the inconsistency of the law. In tuts State, where there Is no will, the widow administers upon the estate alone, or has the choice of those who shall serve with her. In the New Eugland Slates she enlovs the first claim, when compe tent, to the administration, uui n tue husband has chosen to set her aside In his will like a child or an Imbecile, then she has no legal redress. This law Is akin to the one which makes tue widow comparatively comfortable, In spile of real or fraudulent creditors, wuere mere la real estate, but turns her and her babes out to starve where there Is only personal property. In the.present days of commerce, personal estate is often larger than real, in a lew years time, dower and homestead laws will avail nothlug, for, at the present rate of taxa tlon, all real estate will soon be bauk runt- Massachusetts claims that the laws allecting tho rights of wives and widows are far more lenient lowaru mem man the corresponding laws are toward bus bands and widowers. Let us see. Tbe common property is the result of the joint efforts of the wedded pair. The economy anu nome activities oi me wife, aud her prudent supervision of do mestic affairs, furnish a full equivalent to the outside acquisitive work of tho husband, even wben she takes no part In the management of the business. It often happens that she is quite as useful and efficient in that sphere as ner uus band, carrying on the business entirely, in additiou to tbe faithful oversight of household duties. Yet, in the face of all this, if she fail through iguorance or carelessness to fortify Her position as "sole," or if she ouly attends to domes tic aflalrs, at Her death all this joint es tate belongs to her surviving husband, If she has made a will, It Is of no value. Jura. J. II. mow. Praise Is seldom paid with willine ness, even to incontestible merit: and it can be no wonder that ho who calls for it without desert, Is repulsed with uni veraal Indignation. A Surviving Heroine of 1812. There is an interestlngstory connected with Cedar I'olnt, Scituate Harbor, Mass. The heroine is Miss Rebecca Bates, now a bright, genial old lady of eighty-lour, whose memory continues remarkably clear. The story, taken from her own lips, can be depended upon as thoroughly reliable. Her father was Captain Simeon Bates. He was light-keeper at the time, and was the first who lit the light In April, mil In the spring of the following year iMigllsh cruisers were numerous in Massachusetts Bay, and on. one occasion the launches of an English frigate were sent in to Scituate Harbor. They set lire to vessels at the wharves, and towed out two, at the same time threat ening to destroy the town if any resist ance was offered. After this event a home guard was formed, and detach me tits weir stationed on Cedar and Crow points and iu front of the village, with a brass piece. When there was no sail in sight, the guards were allowed to go on to their farms. Nothing to occasion alarm occurred agulu until the following September. Rebecca, at that time eighteen years of age, and her sister Abigail, fourteen years old, anil still living, were sitting toward evening sewing witli their mother. Captain Bates anil the rest of his large family aud the guards were all away. Mrs. Bates told Rebecca It was time to put on the kettle. As Rebecca went into the kitchen, she for the first time perceived an English ship of war close at hand and lowering her boats. "I knew the ship at a glance." she said. "It was the 'La Hogue.' 'Oh, Lord !' says I to my sister, 'the old La Hogue' is oil' here again ! What shall we do? Here are the barges coming again, and they'll burn up our vessels just as they did before.' You see, there were two vesoelsat the wharf, loaded with flour, aud we couldn't afford to lose that in those times, when the embargo made it so hard to live we had to bile pumpkins all day to get sweetening for sugar. There were the muskets of the guards. I was a good mind to take those out be yond the light-house and lire them at the barges. I might have killed one or two, but it would have done no good, for they would have turned and fired tbe village. 'I tell you what we'll do,' said I to my sister. 'Look here,' says I, 'you take the drum, I'll take the fife.' I was fond of military music, and could play four tunei on the fife. 'Yaukee Doodle' was my masterpiece. I learned on the life which the soldiers bad at the Ilght- house. They had a drum there, too; so 1 said to her : loll take the drum, and i n lane me me.- -pinai. guuu n mai do 7' says she. 'facare them,' says I. All you've got to do Is to call the roll, I'll scream the fife, and we must keep out oi sight, ii they see us, they'll laugh us to scorn.' I showed tier how to handle the sticks, and we ran down behind the cedar wood. So we put in, as me ooys sav. anu pretty soon looked, and I could see the men in tbe barges resting on their oars aud listen ing. When I looked again I saw a nag living from the mast-head of tbe ship, My sister began to make a noise, and I said : 'Don't make a noise. You make me laugh, and I can't pucker my mouili.' When I looked again I saw they bud seen the flag, aud they turned auoul so quick a man fell overboard. and they picked him up by the back of Ills neck and hauled him In. When they went oil, I ployed Yankee Doodle."' Is not this heroine, who saved two ships laden with Hour, and perhaps other valuables, from destruc tion, entitled to a peusion ? She has five brothers aud sisters still living, the eldest eighty-five, and the youngest seventy-one. Her grandfather was one hundred years aud one month old at the time of ills deatfi. & C. II'. flenjamin, in Harper's 3l00azine for June. New Yohk Brutality .to Lunatics. The following account of a case of cru elty and criminal abuse of one of the wretched patients In tbls institution is from the lips of a person who has been fur many years, and is at present, a reg ular visitor to the Female Lunatic Asy lum: "Eighteen months ago," says the informant, "a woman In hall No, 3 was con'sldered by tbe physicians well enough to be discharged from the quar ters in the main building and placed in oue of the pavilions. She was ordered to go there by one of tlie nurses on duty. and was forced out of her room without all her clothes. The woman told the nurse she wanted tier clothes, and the nurse refused to give them to her. On the patient insisting that she should get her clothes, the nurses forced her aloug the ward. Not being able to get tbe patient nut, tbe attendants called in two men, who grasped her and tore her along. When the stairs were reached, they shoved Her.down. In tbls opera tion they either jammed their knees into her back, or," as the visitor said, more likely kicked Her. the unfor tunate patient, who was recovering, was, after this treatment, confined to her bed for several weeks, and never got over this brutal treatment, from the effects of which she is now slowly dying in tue Hospital ward ot the asylum. This patient was laboring at tbe time only under a tendency to commit sui cide, the history of her case belne that she was engaged to be married, and her lover died, atter winch she twice at tempted to kill herself. She was mel ancholic, but In all other respects sane. nut ior the treatment she received she would have beeu discharged cured in a snort time, and In place of being now slowly dying in a mad-house, would he, in an probability, comfortably settled witu inends." jew Xork Jleraltl. Science and Education. Nothing can be clearer than that the liberty of science ana liberty oi education, tbe progress of science aud the progress of education, are inuissoiubiy linked to gether. Whewell has shown us hnw. in the development of the human Intel lect, the great steps of culture have fol lowed and resulted from the ereat uteris of discovery that have successively en larged uie spuere oi uumau Knowlpilo. And It was not because certain new facts were poured iu at each epoch of dlscov ery, but because new ideas, new mpfh ods, new modes of mental activity were Introduced. These are invnlnnhlo n education, and If shorn away, so that nothing but direct the quickening, arousing Influence of science Is lost to culture. ProfeMor loumans, Popular Seiencc Monthly for The Cincinnati authorities are trying to close the theatres of that city on Sun- He Ate the Pie He Didn't Like. Bret Harte, Inlhe April Serlbner, tells ns of a case of pie eating la Cali fornia more humorous to hear related than to experience: The pies aud cakes made by the old woman were, I think, remarkable rather for their inducing tbe same loyal and generous spirit than Tor their intriuslu excellence, and it may be said appealed more strongly to the nobler aspirations of humanity than its vulgar appetite Howbeit, everybody ate Mammy Dow ney's pies and thought of his childhood. "Take 'em, dear boys," tlie okl lady would say; "it does me good to see vou eat 'em; reminds me kinder of rnv nonr Sammy, that ef he'd lived, would have been ez strong aud big ez you be, but was taken down with lung fever at Sweetwater. I kin see him yet; that's forty year ago, dear! comiii' nut o' the tot to the bake-house anJsmlln souli a beautiful smile, like yours, dear bov. as I handed him a mince or a lemming turnover. Dear, dear, bow I do ruu on! and those days is past! but I seems to live in you again!" The wife of the hotel-keeper,HctUHted by alow jealousy, bad suggested that she "seemed to live oil them," but as that person tried to demonstrate the truth of her statement by reference to the cost of the raw ma terial used by the old lady, it was con sidered by tbe camp as too practical and economical for consideration. "Besides." added Cy Perkins, "ef old Mammy wants to turn an honest penny in her old age, let her do it. How would you like your old mother to make pies on grub wages, eh? ' A suggestion that so a fleeted his hearer (who had no mother) that he bought three on the snot. The quality of these pies had never been discussed but once. It is related that a young lawyer from San Francisco, din ing at the Palmetto Restaurant, pushed away nue of Mammy Downey's pies with every expression of disgust and dissatisfaction. At thisjuncture, Whisky uick, considerably allected by fits ravor lte stimulant, approached tbe stranger's table, and drawing up a chair, sat uuiu- viieu neiore mm. "Mebbee, young man," he began, gravely, "ye don't like Mammy Dow ney a pies?" The stranger replied, rurtlv. and in some astonishment, that he did not, as a rule, "eat pie." in- . . . . . . . -xuuug man, continued Ulek, with drunken gravity, "mebbee you're ac customed to Charlotte rusks ami blue mauge; mebbee you eau't eat unless your grub is got up by one o' them French cooks ? Yet we us boys yar in this camp calls that pie a good, a cora-pe-tent pie." Tbe stranger again disclaimed any thing but a general dislike of that form of pastry. "Young man," continued Dlek, ut terly uuheedingtheexplanation, "young man, mebbee you onct had an ole a very ole mother, who, tottering dowu the vale o' years, made pies. Mebbee, aud It's like your black epicurean soul, ye turned up your nose on the ole wora au, and went back on the pies and on her. She that dandled ye when ye wnz a baby a little baby! Mebbee ye went back on her, and shook her, and played ofl on her, and gave her away dead away! And now, mebbee, young man I wouldn't hurt ye for the woild but mebbee, afore ye leave this yar table, ye'll eat pie!" 'Hie stranger rose to his feet, but the muzzle of a dragoon revolver in the un steady hands of Whisky Dick caused him to sit down acain. FTn atf tlm nU and lost his case before a Rough-and- ieuuy jury. A Badly Soared Editor. An editor waasittiucr in his easvcbnlr. buoyant In mind aud heart, with th calm serenity and blissful tranquillity that none but editors kuow. A shuf fling sound at tbe door brought him back to earth, and, facing nervously about, he beheld a man of determined iook closing the door behind him. With a sickly feeling of foreboding the editor motioned toward a chair and gazed upou the intruder, helpless and breathless, re- iucm to ujc me worst. Ihe hand of the man wandered townnl his vest pocket, Tbe editor's cheek blanched aud his lips turned blue. Alas' alas! he has guessed aright the mission oi me stranger. Tbe man pulled out a bundle of letters and papers. The head of the editor fell forward upon his breast, and his hands dropped listless from tbe arms of his chair. My errand is not a pleasant nn said the visitor, speaking slowly. maun, ueaveti!" exclaimed the edi tor, pluckiug up courage. "Out with it suspense is worse than fate." "I have au execution on vour hnmn continued the man. with nmfessinnnl sadness. "That mortgage has been fore closed." Hoora ! ha! ha! ha!" rnnrwl tho ed itor, springing up and nearly shaking the man's arm off. "Heaven bepralsed! but Lord what a scare you gave me! Blister my corns, If I didn't think you had a chunk of sorlncr noetrv. Drive on sell the old shanty. It's a rat-eaten iiarracc, anyway, and rents are cbeap. iia: na: wuat a inau you've taken oil my mind! Let's have your name and down it goes for two years' free sub scription. You're an angel in breeches, old fellow, but you don't look like it darned if you do. Ha! ha! Cut your hair, man; cut your hair and wear a stand-up collar. It'll saveyourchlldren sorrow." Cincinnati Breakfast Tnhle. How to Get Along. Don't fltnn in tell stories iu business hours. ir you have, a place of business, be found there when wanted. NO man can get rich bV8lttInrnrnrinrt stores and saloons. Never fool In business matters. Have order, system, retaliation .n also promptness. uo not meddle with business yon know nothing of. x)o not kick everything in your path. More miles can bo mini? in nrnturinv by going steady than by stoppIngRi" x-y us you go. ' A man of honor respects bis word as he does his bond. Help others when you can, but never give what you cannot afford, because It is fashionable. Learn to say no. No necessity of snap ping it outdog fashion, but say Itflrmly and respectfully. Use your own brains rather than those of others. . Learn to think and act for yourself. Keep ahead rather than behind tha times.