Image provided by: Oregon City Public Library; Oregon City, OR
About Oregon City enterprise. (Oregon City, Or.) 1871-188? | View Entire Issue (March 8, 1877)
t.-r-.-ntti B1r1rtilPir DEVOTED TO NEWS, LITERATURE, AND THE BEST INTERESTS OF ORECON. VOL. 11. OREGON CITY, OREGON, THURSDAY, MARCH 8, 1877. NO. 20. 1 i 1 i p THE ENTERPRISE. A LOCAL NEWSPAPER FOK THE F.irmer, Business Man, and Family Circle. ISSUED EVEKY THURSDAY. r i; a n it - . i ire 3i i : :v rr . I'llOl'KIETOH AND PUBLISH LK. OFFICIAL PAPER FDR CLACKAMAS COUNTY. OFFICE In Extehpuise Building, one il jor south of Masonic Building, Main street. TeriiiN uf Hubri'lptloii: Single copy, one year, in advance $3 50 !"iiif;le copy, bix months, in advuuo . . 1 5o " " T'1'ium r A1 erliiiis; : TraiiHiciit advertisements, including all K-ifrtl notice, per square of twelve lines, one week $ 2 50 For each subsequent insertion 1 00 One column, one year 12') 00 Half " " 00 00 Quarter " " 40 00 U ashless Curd, one square, one year... 12 00 oiu:(;ox lodci; x. :j, i. i. (). F., meets every Thursday even- . ing, "t ?-Z o'clock, in tiie Odd Fd-f-'XfeJfc lows' Hall, Main street. Mcin bora of the Order arc invited to attend. By order of N. G. iii;isi:cca ii:iiii:i: lodge, No. 2, I. O. O. F., meets on the scconu una rourtu luesdav f evenings of each month, at "Hw fi'i l.w-U in Ck. 1.1 V..1 I....-1T..11 Members of the Decree are invited to attend MUL.TXOMAII LODGK, No. 1, A.t.iScA. M holds its regular com niunications on t lie First and Third Saturdays in each month, at 7 o'c lock v,vS) -v i from the 20th of September to the 20th of March; and 7.' o'clock from the 20th of March to the 20th of September Brethren in good rtuuding are invited to at tend, liv order of V. M. VALLS 1:NCA31I3H:NT, No. 4, I. O. O. F., meets at Odd Fellows' Hall on the First and Third Tuesday of each month. Patriarchs in i;ood stand ing are invited to attend. JiCHrXESS CARDS. V Ii y h i c i a a n l Siii-g - n . OFFICE AND RESIDENCE : Ou Fourth Street, at foot or Cliff Slairway tf CHAS. KNIGHT, I'.HBV, - - - outfox. Physician and Druggist. "Prescriptions curefully tilled at short notice. ja-tf PAUL BOYCE, M. D.. 1 Ii y m i c i ii u n tl Surgeon, Okeco.v City, Okego.w Chronic Diseases and Diseases of Women and Children a specialty. Ollice hours day and night; always ready when duty calls. Aug. 2T, '7i-tf DR. JOHN WELCH, DENTIST. OFFICE IN OUF.OOX CITY, OKF.CiOW. Highest cash price paid for County orders. JOHNSON & McCOWN. Attorneys and Counselors at Law. OKKIiUX CITV, EJOX. Will practice in all the Courts of the State. Special uiteutton given to cases in the U. S Land Ollice at Oregon City. 5aprlS72-tf L. T. BARIN, ATTORNEY AT LAW, OItF.jOX CITV, OUEUOX. ill practice lu all the Courts of the State. Nov. 1, lS75-tf VY. H. HIGHFIELD, X2sta."tellsli.ed. since '49, One door North of Pope's Hall, .MUX NT., OHKJO, CITY OltF.OOX An assortment of watches, Jewelry, and Seth 1 nomas' Weight Clocks, all e'iyjof which are warranted to be as repre senied. Jfllcpalring done on short notice; .and thankful for past patronage. pwll for County Orilrra, JOHN M. BACON, P1CTUUE FRAMES, MOULDINtJS AXI MISCELLANEOUS GOODS. Okeoox City, Ouegon. :?"At the Post Ollice, Main Street, west S'J. novl-'75-tf IMPERIAL MILLS. LaltiMqut', Savier & Co., OREGON CITY. K.ep constantly on hand for sale Flour, Middlings, Bran and Chicken Feed. Parties purchasing feed must furnish the sack. J. H. SHEPARD, Boot and Shoe Store, One door north of Ackerman Bros. jr"Boots and Shoes made and repaired as cheap as the cheapest. Nov. 1, 1875-tf MILLER, CHURCH & CO. p.VY TIIE HIGHEST PRICE FOR At all times, at the OlllXiON CITY MILLS. And have on Land sell, at market rates. niHit furnish sacks. FEED and FLOUR to Parties desiring Feed novli-tf A. G. WALLING'S Pioneer Book Bindery, I'ittork'a Iialldlng, cur. of Stark and Front tn., Portland, oiti:(;ov. "O LANK BOOKS RULED AND BOUND JD to any desired pattern. Music books, Magazines, Newspapers, etc., bound in every variety of style known to the trade. Orders from the country promptly attended to. novl-75-tf OREGON CITY BREWERY. HENRY HUMBEL, HAVING purchased the above Brewery, wishes to inform the public that he is now prepared to manufac lure a No 1 quality of As good as can be obtained anywhere in th e 2iate. Order solicited f - f - J The Three Horsemen. BY EMILB LILIAN" WHITING. Three horsemen halted the inn before, Three horsemen entered the oaken door, And loudly called for the welcome cheer That was wont to greet the traveler here. Good woman," they cried as the hostess came, A buxorn, rosy, portly old dame 'Good woman, how Is your wine and beer? And how isyour little daughter dear?" "My house is ever supplied with cheer, But my daughter lieth upon'her bier." shadow over the horsemen fell, Each wrapped in thoughts he could never tell; And silently one by one they crept To the darkened room where the maiden slept. The golden hair was l ipplinglow Over a forehead pure as snow, And the little hands were idly pressed, Clasping- a cross to the pulseless breast. "I loved thee ere the death-chill lay Ou thee, sweet child," and one turned away. "I would have loved thee," the second said, "Hadst thou learned to love me, and lived to wed." "I loved thee ever, I love thee now," The last one cried as he kissed her brow. "In the heaven to come our souls shall wed. I have loved thee living, I love thee dead." Then silently out from the oaken door, Three horsemen passed to return no more. Frvta the German of Uliland. The Lover's Leap. 'Tlitf Lover's Leap," said I, as I stood ou the nor'.Ji shore of Cornwall, looking up at a picturesque headland a consider able number of teet above the sea's level, mid luuging threateningly over its foamy surface. 44 A name," I added, "decidedly original and " True," interrupted the tall, handsome Cornish woman at my side, with whom I had been conversing, and who had been my informant respecting the name of the projection which I have sketched. ''True?' 1 repeated, perceiving she was quite serious. 44 Then, do you remember the origin oi the title: "Perfectly. I was a child at tlia time; but it made such a commotion, and was so often repeated, that it would almost have impressed a baby s memory. If you like, I II tell it to you. It s become a legend here; we relate it to most travel ers who care to listen." Declaring nothing would please me better, I put down my sketch-book, and the Cornish woman and I seated on a boulder, the sea lapping the beach a little way olT, she began as follows: 44 About thirty years ago, there lived in the village yonder, where you are staying, two brothers; they were twins, yet as un like as the sea is in ealm and storm. It is supposed that children so born enter tain a strong affection for each other. In that case, William and Richard Redruth were an exception. They were so utterly dissimilar in character, that it would be impossible to be otherwise. "Richard was a handsome, open, generous-hearted, honest ? young fellow, pos sessed of that energy and steady applica tion at work which is the foundation of success. William was dark-haired, heavy browed, with a restless, roving spirit, a very quick tamper, and fierce, vindictive nature. Though also a fisher, he earned but little; for he never settled steadily to it, but would start oft" in his bo it round the coast, and never be heard of for days. W hen he returned, it was with an empty craft, and a livid, feverish face, as of one who had met and braved perils. "Different in everything else, unfortu nately, the brothers had one strong liking in common this was their love of Mtr garet Semper, a fisherman's daughter, the beauty ot the village, ami ot so gentle, kindly a disposition, that even William Redruth was au altered man in her pres ence. He, as well as Richard with oth ers for that matter, but they do not count strove to wiu Margaret bumper s favor At last she made her selectiou. and it was not difficult to guess it. Richard Rid- luth was not only the most piosperous and handsomest usher iu the village, but just the one to obtain the love of such a irirl as Margaret. It was to him she gave her heart and hand. "Wheu the f .ct of their engagement became known, William Redruth and his boat suddenly disappeared. Days passed, nothing was heard ot him, though one old fisherman declared that, happening to go to the beach late, for something lis had left in his boat, he saw there the figure of a man very like William, creeping along in the darkness of the rocks. He had called to him, when the shadow in stantly vanished. The fisher so stoutly affirmed this, enlarging upon the gliding, shadowy appearance, that many believeu William Redruth had put an end t his life, and that his spirit was haunting the place "Opinions on the piut were divided, when a few mornings later the people in the village were surprised to sej R eh ird Keilruth, who h.ad "one hshiug early, re- turniug quickly an 1 unexpectedly to lat.d. upon his running his boat ou Mi re, he explained that he had got sonic distance out to s-ea, when he discovered it was making water rapidly. He endeavored io nnit where the leak was sprun but in vain, and with the 2rca4cst dittijulcv he kept it under while he tacke 1 and made for the village. Oa examining the boat with the fishers, it was f.uud in a most unlikely place, white it was perfectly in- mce-iMie to any one inside the boat "llow had it c me? UifbA-.l lWIrnth looked sjrave. but sai.l not.hin.r Tu vil lage, However, toanjd its own opinion, for there were some who remembere.l herin Willi un Ridruth say, 4If ever Margaret bemper should choose my brother, before i..cn euumg-oay one or the other shall ue Deneatii the sod !' "I tie Haw was mended; a fortnight passea, aaa nothing was seen of William Hedrutn, either his shadow or his "host to wnicnever tne Coruish mind tended He was beginning to be forsotten. owini to another excitement Margaret Semper r and Richard's approaching wedding, the day of which had bpen fixed. "As I have said, Richard Redruth was one of the most well-to do fhdiers in the place; yet each day he worked harder and more untiringly, for he desired to be rich now for Margaret, and no wealth he thought too great for her. Daily he was seen to quit the shore, and return with its shiuing freight, as bright as the silver it was to bring the fearless hShcr. Even on the eve of his marriage he made no dif ference. "'This is my last trip, Margaret,' he said, as she stood by him on the beach. 'To-morrow you will be my own little wife! It will be a large freight I shall bring to-night.' "Fondly they embraced, never dream ing how next they should meet; though, when he had gone, aud the day st ile on ward, a vague dread came over Margaret a dread for him. The holy joy of the coming morning so filled her heart, she feared anything occurring that should now part her and Richard. ''Noon passed, evening drew on, and with it, dark threateuing clouds, presag ing a storm for hours piled in the west began as the sun set to sweep up like a funeral pall over the heavens, while the leadeu sea beneath moaned as one in trouble. Eagerly, with anxious heart, Margaret scanned the broad expanse in search of Richard's b oat. In vain; the white specks which so frequently deceived her were but the crests of the yet small but angry waves. " 'Why did he go to-day?' she sighed 'why on thi-, the eve of our marriage? The hour has long passed that he named for his return.' "Then she remembered the circum stance of that mysterious leak, aud her anxiety grew in intensity. Throwing a shawl around her, she stole down unper ceived to the shore. It seemed to bring her nearer to her lover, as already the evening was shutting the sea from sight at the cottage. "Apparently the beach was deserted by all save herseif, and with restless spirit she walked along the edge of the waters, her gaze fixed seaward, her ears keenly sensitive to the gradually risingwind and other sounds that declared a tempest at baud. Ignorant of the shadow which had been dogging her steps for some time, and was yet noiselessly following, she climbed the rock. "Darker grew the evening. The bil lows broke with a louder soun 1 ; the wind wildly tossed her loosened hair and shawl. Where was Richard? Anxiously she gazed out on the storm crest, endeavor- ug to pierce the gloom, blie pressed ler hands over her eyes, then prepared to look atrain, when, with a startled crv. she prang back, tor, by her side, his d irk features more threatening than the night, stood William Redruth. " 'You fear me, Margaret, aud with good cause,' he said, coldly. 4It is long I have been waiting such an opportunity. Each step you have taken I have fol lowed until you reached this rock. Mar garet Semper, if you ever leave it alive, it must be after you have sworn to be my iter "Trembling in every limb, but by an effort assuming a calm, undaunted bear- ng, the young girl answered, 'Are you mad, William Rjdruth? To morrow is my wedding day and Rich ard's. Do you imagiue that even the fear of death could make me false to hi in?' 44 'Then here you perish 1 You shall never be his never !' 'This is folly, William, and unlike you. u.at Harm have you ever received at my han Is that you should treat me usr 44 'The greatest possible your rejection of me for him.' 4"A woman c in no more control her leart than a man can,' she said. 4I love Richard; I would, if you would let me. love you as a brother.' 44 4Brother!' lie interrupted, fiercely; 'brother yes, I will accept that affection, Margaret Semper, but not from you as Richard Redruth s wife; never never never!' "The wild energy of his manner aug mented her alarm, and pushing him, she strove 1 1 quit the rock; but catching her wrist, he held her with a grasp ot iron. 44 4rso: he said ; 4I have sworn it! "Sii-5 shrieked aloud. 44 'Your cries are useless,' he remarked; the wind aud waves are my allies. Scream as you may you canaot be heard !' "Kneeling at his feet, yet fn his clasp, she prayed, implored, upbraided. Wil liam Ridruth ha 1 but oue answer, "'He mine, and you are safe; it not, you die!' 44 4Oh, llliam, William!' she wept; 4ouce you said you loved me cau you, then, treat me thus?' ' 4It is because I love you because I will never see you his!' he rejoined, hoarse ly. 'Look, Margaret, and reflect speed ily, f r the base of this rock is already surrounded.' 'Looking around, she saw with horror that his words were true; the waves with their dancing crests were on each side of her. " WIercA', mercy !' she shrieke l. "'For the last time I ask you, Mar garet will you renounce Richard and be mine? "'No!' she answered, drooping ex h austed at his feet. 4Rither the cruel death with which you threatened me.' 44 'It is no vhiu threat, Margaret; the death shall indeed be yours. In a few- moments vou will see.' 4,Tnere was a pause of some seconds. then, before the wretched girl, half in sensible from terror, divined his intent, seizin"- both her hands, he lashed the wrists securely together. Afterward re leasing her, he said, "'Farewell, Margaret; I failed with Richard, but I caunot miss now. He must waitlonsr for his bride to-morrow.' "'William William Rjdruthl' she cried; 4do not leave me.' " R.it nl ready he hid sprung into the water, and she was left on the rock alone "It was a fearful time that followed aim ist bevond descript:oa certainly enough to banish reason. Margaret shrieked and prayed. The uproar of the elements sent her words back to tier, ap nearinr to mock her asronv. These fran A O - tic moments were interspersed by brief intervals of calm, when the past swept before her like a panorama. "All the while the moments slipped by, and the waves rose higher and higher; at last oue dashed over the rock aud did not retreat. Wildly, despairingly she Hung out her arms, aud praj-ed for succor for mercy; then, kneeling, she wept. It was hard to die thus; made harder by the knowledge that the morrow was to have been her wedding day. "Now the waves began to break over her, threatening to hurl her Irom the rock. Madly she strove to clincr to it. but her hands being tied rendered her al most powerless. In a few minutes all must be over. &hat idea gave her strength, and with a last effort, she hneked aloud in her agony till thy rocks ran;? with her voice. "'Richard, Richard, aid me! Am I to die thus, never again to see you? Rich ard, Richard I' "What was that? She sprang to her feet, every pulse beating with hope. It was a voice, in reolv; it was Richard's ice, uttering her name. Once more it sounded. It carue from above: and r.iis- ng her face she beheld on the headland the tall, strong figure of her lover out- med against the dark, leaden sky. Her ieart sank. Before he could get his boat all would be over. " 'Oh, Richard, dear Richard,' she called; 'be comforted. Seeing.you, I can die happy ! But help is too late. Fare well tarewell I "The figure had gone. Like an arrow it darted from the top of the headland and plunged into the sea beneath. Mar garet uttered a scream of alarm, then hoped recollecting that Richard was one of the best swimmers in Cornwall. Love now would make him strong. WRh difficulty keeping her position, each sec ond covered by the waves, she waited. Ah ! what was that which struck against ier so heavily? It was a body that of William Redruth! With a scream, Mar garet fainted. "Struggling through the surf, Richard praug to her relief, guided by that last cry. His arms were aoout her as con- ciousness departed, and with difficulty he bore her safely t. shore. "I he wedding did not take place the next day, for Margaret was prostrated by a nervous lever, but it did take place a few weeks after, and was one of the hap piest and gayest in ali Cornwall, despite the evil plots of William Redruth, as to whose fate there was no longer ajy mys tery. In springiug from the rock, his head must have hit violently against some hidden boulder; for the next morning, when the tide went down, he was found Irowned, with a wound on his temple, at he very toot ot the Lover s Leap." A Generous Action. The truly polite person will endeavor to place every one around him at ease, even though it involves a little saciitice of self on his part. A pretty story, illustra tive of this principle, is told of a gentle man, who, so.ne years aaro, was honored bv the chief office in his State, and who equally honored her in the fulfilment of his duties. He was one evening ready to descend into the drawing room at a very stylish reception; a member from a very rural district, who evidently had seen nothing of what we call "society" ap proached him. He was surprised to see all the gentlemen yuttinr on crloves. knowing no reason for wearing them in a warm room, and said to the gentleman at his side, "I guess I won't go down, as 1 haven t auy gloves, and every boely else has them on." "Oh," replied the noble- hearted man, with a smile, "you needn't mind that. You must certainly go down. Gloves are a small matter, any way." But, seeing that the country member still looked uueasily at his hard red lunds, he kindly added, "I'll take off my gloves, aud then there will be two without them. He drew them off, and put them in his pocket; and he a-id the country member went down to the drawing room together, equ illy at their ease, no doubt. The governor lost nothing iu the opinion of iny one; but the shy member was saved painful mortification, and gained by this true courtesy a word of useful confi dence which helped him to a feeling of comfortable independence in after years. lie could always do what a noble govern or did. It was a very little tleed, you say, not worth recording; but the man who does small acts of kind courtesy and con leicensiou is the onj who, from the same motives, makes great sacrifices for his friends and his country. He who is truly polite will endeavor to make all around him comfortable and happy. Remarkable Winters. Now is the time to trot out paragra phs about remarkab'e winters winters that have distinguished themselves by being either colder or warmer than the law al lows. No well-regulated newspaper will neglect this duty. Referring back to our files, W3 find that in 1172 the temperature was so hijjh thnt leaves came out on the trees in January, and birds hatched their broods in February. In 12S9 the weather was equally mild, and the maidens of Co logne wore wreaths of violets and corn flowers at Christmas and Twelfth Day. In 1421 the trees fl iwered in the mouth of March, and the vines in the month of April. Cherries ripened in the same month of April. Peaches appeared in May, and little boys begin to fall eut of apple trees a little later. In 1572 the trees were covered with leaves in Jan uary, and the birds hatched their young in February, as in 1172; and in 1588 the same thing wa9 repeated, and it is added that the corn was in ear at Easter. To the best of our memory there was in France neither suow nor frost during the winters of 1538, 1607, 1009, 1G17, 105f; finally in 16G2, even in the north of Germa iy, the stoves were not lighted, trees flowered in Februa-y, and out-door bouquets were showere 1 on the newspaper offices with out number. It seems but as yesterday Coming to later dates,the winter of 1846 1847, when it thundered at Paris on the 23th of January, and that of 1866, the year of the inundation of the Seine, may be mentioned as very mild. New London Conn.) Telegram. COURTESY CF BANCROFT LIBRARY, The Cocoanut Palm. Among the legion of generous gifts be stowed by kind nature upon man there is none, perhaps, that can compare fav orably with the cocoanut palm in use fulness. Not only are the products of this tree capable of being utilized in an endless number of ways, but the tree it self may be viewed as a pioneer amongst vegetable productions, by whose aid the first links of the great chain of plant life amongst the newly formed islands of the southern and eastern seas are es tablished. The nut is by no means the only pro dact of the cocoa palm, the juice, or sap, being cf considerable importance to the cocoa grower; but to obtain this, the nut cr p of particular trees must be sacrificed as the fructification of the flower spathe is prevented by the operations of the sap collector, or ''toddy drawer," as he is called. This sap procured is the palm wine of poets and ancient writers. Im mediately after collection, and before ex posure to heat and contact with foreign substances.it possesses an agreeably sweet taste, extremely cool and refreshing. In the course of a few hours a change takes place, and a sharp, acid, and not di-a-greeable flavor is established ; this acid condition rapidly progresses, and in twenty-four hours the bap is perfectly sour. "Rack punch" is the name of a drink held in hijfh esteem by the past genera tion, and owes both name and peculiar flavor to ai rach, a spirit distilled from the sweet sap obtained by the "toddy" man. Vinegar of excellent quality is made from the sour sap. Jaggery," or palm sugar largely ex ported, and extensively used for home consumption is made from the sap, be fore the acid chauge takes place. lue fruit, or cocoanuts, are, according to their tate of development, consumed in .an endless number of ways; the unripe nut not only contains a most delicious store of cool drink, but a good supply of veg- table ulanc mange, which cau be scooped oat with a sea-shell, aud eateu in the grove. As the nut progresses toward maturity an entirely different descrip tion of food is formed within, and, as the kernel haidens, it is not unfrequently mixed with mashed taio root, and made nto a sort of pudding, which is baked native earth ovens, and constitutes a wholesome and palatable article of diet. lhetrauein cocoanuts and cocoanut oil, carried on between some of the Pa cific islands and more civilizeel nations, is of considerable importance. We learn that the island of Samoa alone lurnished n one year cocoanuts to the value of oue hundred end fifty thousand dollars, which were exchanged for various useful articles of trade. The native oil manufacturers obtain oil from the kernel, which they crush in sort ot stone mortar, having a small irifice at the bottom to allow the oil to un out into aa earthen pot, which is placed underneath, iu a pit lor its re ception. A very supporting kind ot food is made Irom (lie kernel, thus de prived of its oil, by pouuding it fine, beatiusr it into a mass, euvelopiug it in cloths of cocoa fibre, aad placing the packs thus formed under stouts, to soak u st a water. No part of the cocoa palm is without ts use, some of which we have endeav ored to describe. The timber, under the name of "poreupiue wom1," is extensively used in canoe building, and the manu facture of water pipes, paddles, clubs, posts for houses, rafters, etc. The mid lbs of the leaves make excellent baskets; the leaflets are split, plaited, and made into hats. An entire leaf is used as an emblem of authority. Tied in bundles, the leaves are placed around the palms, so tint their rustling may give notice of he movements of auy person eudeavor- ng to stealthily ascend the tree. Ropes, cordage, mats, twine, nets, and fishing- lines are made Irom the coir, or cocoa fibre; good black dyes are mada from cocoanut milk; cocoanut gum is much used as a dressing for the hair. Loth cocoanut palm flowers and roots are held u hirh esteem as medicines; the burnt kernel yields good lampblack, and the nut-shells make convenient water-bottles aud drinking-cups. "The Indian cocoanut alone Is clothing, meat aud trencher, drink and can. Boat, cable, sail and needle, all iu one." To end the list of the gifts of the good palm are the tejlian harps, which are constructed from the fibres of the leaflets, aad are eiiher placed about the huts or on some canoe, at the bows; so as they plough their way through the waves with their paim stores, ins urisK sea breeze sings merrily, and cheers the hardy islander on his way. Claude Aim- worth, in n averly. A Stoiiy of Stephen Giiiard. The liev. J. jmcJjCoq, a I'uiiaaeipnia clergy man, in a recent lecture to apprentices aud bays in stores, gave so ne interesting reminiscences of Stephen Girard, "whom," saiI he, "I knew wli. n a boy. He usually walked stoop-shouldered, with his hinds crossed in front, was of middle size and rather stout, lou will see a very goo 1 likeness of him at AN anamaker's, Sixth and Market streets. The artist has rot the expression exactly. Tlivre is only one thing l wouiu cruxiss about the painting. I never sa .v him with so fine a coat on as the pletjie represents. He ahvays discoun ed small n ites: helped men who iwre in business in a small wav. He was always ready to help a m chanic or honest man, though perhajis with an eye to bu-uness and in a safe way. The Bank of .North America and others were jealous of him; so they said, 4 We will not discount his n tes.' Girard was informed of it, and, of course, was angry, so he told the cashier whenever he got a note of the Bank ot North America to lav it aide. This was done, until after a while one dav he sent a not try over with notes of the Bank of North America to the amount of $250,000, with a request that the amount be paid in gold and silver. There was consternation in the Bank, aud Girar. was sent for and reiterated his demand when the banks were glad ti compro mise, and after that were ready to take his notes." John Milton. The author of one of the grandest poems in the English language Para dise Lost wa9 born in London, Decem ber 6, 1608. His father was a scrive ner, or law-writer, in large practice; and his mother a lady from Wales. His father had a knowledge of books, loved music, and was one of the best compos ers of the age. John Milton's education began at home; afterwards he went to St. Paul's School, and ia due course to the Uni versity at Cambridge, lie got on so rapidly with his studies that it was said he was a "ripe scholar aud a good one" before he was twenty-one years of age. His talft for poetry "allowed ilf verw early "at the age of . ten," says one writer, and his fond father was so proud of him that he employed Janseu to paint his portrait a half-length in laced ruffles. From the time of his leaving Cambridge, John Milton resided with his father on an estate which the latter had purchased at Horton, in the county of Bucks. In 1C:7, on the death of his mother, lie got permissiou to visit Italy, on a musical as well as poetical tour, to collect for his father the works of the great masters of one art, while he gained personal experience in the other by inter course with learned persons there. "I had determined," says he, "to lay up, as the best treasure and solace of good old age, if God vouchsafe it to m j,t!ie honest liber ty of free speech." The next long stage in Milton's life was his being secretary to Oliver Cromwell, for which he ha 1 a very mod erate salary. In 1643 he married Mary, daughter of Richard Powell, Esq., of Forest Hill, in Oxfordshire. On her death he became blind, and married fur the second time Catherine, the daughter of Captain Woodcock of Hackney. After the death of Cromwell and the Restoration of Charles II., Milton was a marked man. But he was now poor and blind, aud no one could pursue with vio lence an enemy cast down by fortune aud disarmed by nature. Milton now turned the whole force of his early poetic genious to the working oat of the dream of his boyhood the writing of a grand poem. Thus, till his sixtieth year, so little im patient was he of securing fame by that very gift on which he most valued him self, that the whole of his published poems scarcely made a hundred pages of print. Now he felt poor blinl maul that it was withia him, so his daughter wrote while he composed. Paradise Lost was published in 1667; 1'aradise Regained aud Samson Agonistes, a Tragedy, three years afterwards, these, with L'Allegro,Il Peuserosa,Lycida3,Com us,the sonnets, with a few juvenile poems in .Latin, Italian and English, completed his poetical works. He died peacefully, in 1674, house in Bunhill Fields, and was next to his father, in the chaucel at bis buried of St. Giles at Cripplegate. One moral which young readers may draw for themselves from Johu Milton's ife is that youth is the time for book- learning and industry; aud then what ever may be the troubles or reverses of after-life or old age, a mind well-stored n early days can give consolation aud cheerfulness, as the poet found, even wheu he was aged, poor and blind. An Indian "fotlaeh." There was a mighty gathering of the race of "Lo" at Saanich yesterday. Up ward of 3,000 redskins in 275 Canoe3 were present, the tribes from Nanaimo, Cowlcau, Cliemaiuus, Burrard Inlet, atigley, New Westminster, North and South Saanich, Beechy Bay and Nitinaht, n the British side of the straits, being ill represented, while the Semiahmoo, ummie aud Callams appeared for the American Si washes. The occasion of the assemblage was a grand potlach, over $15,000 worth of goods being given away. English blankets to the value of $5,000 were thrown from the top of the lod ges to be scrambled tor by the na tives below, who stood armed with long poles, stuck full of nails at one end, to secure the prize as soon as it fell. In addition to these, some curious percecees," made by the natives them selves from the wool of the mountain sheep, were thrown. Three hundred guns, among which some fine double- barreled pieces, with percussion locks, were thrown down and caused a series of tremendous struggles, which lasted in some cases tor nearly au hour. Pieues of board, representing sums ranging from $100to foOO, were then scrambled for after the same fashion. Three brothers gave 3,500 blankets as their contribu tion to the grand gift "enterprise," which had all been paid for by the products of the ehase. 1 he stock of gilts being exhausted the natives got into their canoes aud left. thus ending one of the largest meetings ot ths kind which has taken place for some years, and probably the last of any magnitude which will occur, as the rising generation of Indians seem to care very little about perpetuating the customs ot their forefathers, and this, as well as many other ancient practices, will soon be numbered among the things ot the past. All was conducted soberly,aud the Indian Superintendent, Colonel Powell, and Police Suoerintendent Todd, who were present, were both struck by the absence of any siyrn of intoxication. British Columbia Colonist. The B stoa School Board has under consideration two new rules. One of them raises the age of admission to primary schools to six years. The other reduces the hours of work in them to three each day, with a recess of thirty minutes, from half-past ten to eleven, so that the daily session will begin at uine and end at half-pa9t twelve o'clock One hundred and ninety of the cities and towns of Ma-sachusetts maintain hi'rh schools. Tney embrace seven- ei 'hths of the entire population, and one fifth of these towns support such schools of their own free will, without any re quirement of the statue. The Old-Fashioned Grandmother. There is an old kitchen somewhere in the past, an old-fasbioned fire-place therein, with its smooth old jambs of stone; smooth with many knives that have been sharpened there, smooth with many little fingers that have clung there. There are andirons with rings iu the top, wdierein many temples of flame have been builded with spires and turrets of crimson. There is a broad, warm hearth; broad enough for three generations to cluster on; worn by feet that have been torn and bleeding by the way, or been made "beautiful," and walked upon floors of tessellated gold. There are tongs in the corner, wherewith we iTnsned a coal, and "blowing for a little life." lighted our first r 11c ; there is a shovel wherewith were drawn forth the glowing embers, in which we saw our first fancies and dreamed our first dreams; the shovel with which we stirred the logs until the sparks rushed up the chimney as if a forge were in blast be low, and wished we had so many lambs, or so many marbles, or so many some things that we coveted; and so it was that we wished our first wishes. There is a chair a low, rush-bottomed chair; there is a little wheel in the cor ner, a big wheel in the garret, a loom in the chamber. There are chestfulls of linen and yarn, and quilts of rare pat terns and samples in frames. And everywhere and always the dear old wrinkled face of her whose firm, elastic step mocks the feeble saunter of her children's children the old-fashioned grandmother of forty years ago. She, the very providence of the old home stead; she who loved us all, and said she wished there were more of us to love, and took all the school in the hol low for graotlchildreu besides. A great expansive heart was hers, beneath the woolen gowo, or that more stately bom bazine, or that sole heir-loom of silken texture. We cau see her to-day, those mild blue eyes, with more of beauty in them than time could touch, or death could do more than hide those eyes that held both smiles and tears within the faintest call of every one of us, and soft reproof that seemed not passion but regret. A white tress has escaped from beneath hersnowy cap; she length ened the tether of a vine that was stray iug over a window, as sh-j came in, and plucked a four-leaved clover for Ellen. She sits down by the little wheel a tress is running through her fiugers from the distaff's dishevelled head, when a small voice cries "Grandma," from the old red cradle, and "Grandma," Tommy shouts from the top of the stairs. Geutly she lets go the thread, for her patience is al most as beautiful as her charity, aud she touches the tittle red bark a moment, till the young voyager is in a dream again, and then directs Tommy's unavailing at tempts to harness the cat. Wrhat treasures of story fell from these old lips; of good fairies and evil; of the old times when she was a girl; but we wondered if ever she was little but then she couldn't be handsomer or de irer. And then, when we begged her to sing: 'Sing us one of the old songs you used to sing for mother, grandma." "Children, can't sing," sha always said ; and mother used to always lay her knitting softly down, aud the kitten stopped playing with the yarn on the floor, and the clock ticked lower in the corner, and the fire die I down to a glow, like an old heart that is neither chilled nor dead, and grandmother sang. To be sure it would not do for the parlor and concert- room now a-days; but then it was the dd kitchen, and the old-tashioned grand mother, and the old ballad, in the dear old times, and we can hardly see to write for the memory of them, though it is a hand's breath to the sunset. How she used to welcome us when we were grown, and came back oace more to the homestead We thought we were men and women.but we were children there; the old-fashioned randmother was blind in her eyes, but she saw with her heart, as she alwavs lid. We threw our lon shadows through the open door, and she felt them, as they fell over her form, and she looked dimly up, and she said : "E J ward I. know, and Lucy's voice I can hear, but whose is that other? It must be Jane s, for she had almost for gotten the folded hands. "Oh, no! not Jaue's, fur she let me see she is wait ing for me, isn t shef ' aud the old grand mother waudered aud wept. "It is another daughter, grandmother, that Edward has brought," says some one, "tor your messing. "Has she blue eves, my eon? Put h?r hands in mine, for she is my late-bom, the child of my old age. Shall I sing )u a song, children?" and she is idly fumbling for a toy a welcome gift for the children that have come again. One of us, men as we thought we were, is weeping: she hears the half- suppressed sobs, and says, as she extends her leeble hands: "Here, my poor child, rest upon your grandmother's shoulder; she will protect vou from all harm. Come, my children, bit arojnd the fire again. Shall I t-ing you a song or tell you a story? Stir the fire, for it is cold; the nights are growing colder." The clock in the corner struck nine, the bed-time of those old days. The song of life was indeed sung, the story told. It was bed-time at last. Good night to thee, grandmother. The old fashioned grandmother was no more, and we miss her forever. But we will set up a tablet in the midst of the heart and write on it only this: Sacred to tiie Memory Of Vie Goou Old-fashioned Grandmother. God bless lur forever! The newly-discovered coral reef off the coast of Spain forms the summit of an isolated submarine mountain, havin" a circular base, with a radius from the summit of twenty miles. The mountain rises regularly from a depth of 16,500 to 14,500 feet, capped with live coral. The bank around the edges gives indications of comparatively recent volcanic disturbance. - Q I 1 ill 14 I 41