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.
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