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DEVOTED TO NEWS, LITERATURE, AND THE BEST INTERESTS OF OREGON.
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YOL. 111.
THE ENTERPRISE.
I
A LOCAL NEWSPAPER
fOB T H X
rrwr, Uuiinct Man null l'amll.r ( ii clc
ISSUED EVERY THIKSD.VY
YROPBrETGR AND PCBLISHBK.
Official Paper for Clacliauias County.
O iiie : 1 11 Enterprise KnH.liii-,
One door South of Masonic Building, Main Street.
f
Tfrina of Kubvcripliou:
Siutfle Copy, one year, in advance JO
Single Copy, bix mouths, iu advance 1 50
Term of Al-rUinit
T--sint aJvtrtlv . ien., ' lu i :g i; !oai
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Fr eachubsequent insertion 100
One Column, one year 120 00
Half Column, one year 60 IK)
Quarter Column, one year 40 00
&usines Card, one square, cue year 12 00
SOCIETY NOTICES.
OREGON LODGE, No. S,
ileets every Thursday Evening. t----.
7 o'clock, in Odd i ellows' Mall, v -"W 1
Main Street. Members of the Order jtQ;
ara invited to attend.
By order of X. G.
REBECCA DEGREE LODGE,
No. 2,
I. O. O. meets on the Second and
Fourth Tuewlny Evenines of each month,
at o'clock. In the Odd Fellows' Hall.,
Member of the Degree are invited to
attend.
FALLS ENCAMPMENT, No. 4,
1. u. u. r ., ineeis at UJU fellows Mall on i
the First and Third Tuesday of each mnth TV7
Patriarchs in good standiii;; are iuvited to'
it tend.
MULTNOMAH LODGE, No. 1.
1 v i. ir 1. , 1 1 1 . . ,
. 1 . .1 ji., iiuiu.i nt regular communi- q
cations oil the First ami Tlilrd Saturdays A
in each month, at 7 o'clock from the 'JOth ' v r
or September to the 'Jnta of March and
:H o'clock from the 2(th of Mnr.-h ,,' i,
"'i"-"!"". uiriurrii in jjoou sianaiuif are
tuvltej to attend. Hy order of V. M.
BUSINESS CAHDS.
WARREN N. DAVIS, M. D.,
I'liysioiaii and Surgeon,
Graduatuof tlie I'niven-ity of Pennsylvania.
Otvur. at Clikf Hot; kg.
CHARLES KNIGHT,
CAXBT, OREGON,
Physician ami Druggist.
SPr-riptions carefully filled at short notice.
ja7-tf
PAUL GOYCE, M. D.f
riiysician aisd Surgooai.
C)rehon City, Onr.dos-.
Chronic Diseases and Diseases of Women and
Children a specialty.
Office Hourd day and night; always ready when
iu,yc11''- aus-Jo.Tfi-tf-
DR. JOHN WELCH,
DEXTTST.a
OFFICE IX OREGOXCITY OREGON'.
Higlteat cash price paid for County Orders.
JOHNSON & McCOWN,
ATTORNEYS and COUNSELORS AT LAW
OUEGOX CITY. OREGON.
Will practice in all the Courts of the Slate.
Special attention given to cases in the I nited
sullen Land Ofhce at Oregon City. .1apr"72-tf
O
L. T. BARIN,
VlTOItMlY AT I,UV,
OREGON CITY, OREGON.
Will practice iu all the Courts of the state,
novl, '75-tf
W. H. HICHFIELD,
stabiuijf.,! Ml 11 00 -ti,
One door North of Pope's Hall,
MAIN T.. OKF.UOX CI TV. UKKUOX.
bJih ."Ti? f ?. Jewelry, and
, . "&-' ciocKs, ail or which
LJ, .d 0 ,)e ""Presented.
for . I. . 8 aon" on Hhort '"'the; and thauKiul
ior pist patronage.
li raid lor County Wrilert.
JOHN M. BACON,
BOOKS, STATIONERY,
PICTCRE FRAMES. MOULDINGS AND MISCEL
LANEOUS GOODS.
MIDI: TO OIU I:.
OliEOOX ClTT, OHEUOX.
the Post Office. Main Street, west side.
. novl, "T"-tf
J. R. GOLDSMITH,
OEM2UAL :v TZ w I . V 1 i : X 5
Collector and Solicitoa.
PORTLAND, OI1F.GON.
C7"15cst c f references given. Jt'25-"77
HARDWARE, IRON AND STEEL,
o IB ubs, Spokes. lSim,
OAK, ASH AND HICKORY PLANK.
UltTIIItl.I A- THOMPSON,
tuar31,'76-tf rovtland, Or-g..n.
J. H. SHEPARD,
On door North of Ackerman Bros.
KBooU and Shoes made and repaired as rhta'i
aa the cheapest. novl. "75-tf
MILLER, CHURCH & CO.
PA7 THE HIGHEST PRICE FOR WHEAT.
At all times, at the
OREGON CITY MILLS,
And have on band FEED and FLOUR to sell, at
market rates. Parties desiring Feed must furnish
tacks. covl'i tf
A. C. WALLING'S
IMoiiecr Book J3iiuleiv
Pittock'a Building, cor. of Stark and Front Sts..
PORTL.4XI), ORCGOV,
BLANK BOOKS RULED AND BOUND TO ANY
desired pattern. Music Bocks, Magazines,
wapapers. etc., bound In every variety of atyle
taowu to the trade. Orders from the country
tromptly attended to. novl, 75-tf
OREGON CITY BREWERY.
ITtn purchased the above Brewery, $E3a'k
ina to Inform the public that thev arep-Sj
aTllryt8tM'd 10 ttHrftiw lggSSaSi
.c0r LAGER BEER.
CrT obtained anywhere In the State,
lm ult3 and promptly filled.
'A MTTLE LUUHTKR.
BY II. C. BUNSIIl.
Deep in our nature God hath set the fount.
Sweet and mysterious, whereof joy ia born;
It is bis Land that teaches smiles to mount
To lips that long hath known but how to mourn.
Our pleasures are not idle in his Bight;
Our laughter not unwelcomed to hia ears;
He gave the tears of woe to dim our sight ;
lie also gave the emiles to dry the toars.
And lie is King of this world's pain and grief
Who by the roadside plucks God's flowers of joy ;
Who only looks t o find the withered leaf
Shall find the cold that did that leaf destroy.
And the world crowns with chaplets green and fair,
Tbo brave sweet souls that smile and conquer
care.
I .MKK THE VIOLET.
llr.r hands are cold ; her face is white ;
No more her pulses couie and go ;
Her eyes are shut to life and light
Fold on white vesture, snow on snow.
And lay her where the violets blow.
But not beneath a graven stone,
To plead ior tears with alien eves;
A sleuder cross of wood alone
Shall say that here a maiden lies.
In peace beneath the peaceful skies.
And gray old trees of hugest limb
Shall wheel their circling shadows round
To make the scorching sunlight dim
That drinks the greenness from the ground.
And drop their dead leaves on her mound.
When o'er their boughs the squirrels ruu.
And through their leaves the robins call.
And ripening in the autumu sun
The acorns and the chestnuts fall.
Doubt Hot that she will heed them alt.
For her the morning choir shall sing
Its matins from the branches high.
And every minstrel-voice of spring
That thrill beneath the April sky
Shall greet her with its earliest cry.
When turning round their dial-track.
Eastward the lengthening shadows pa
Her litttle mourners, clad in black.
The crickets sliding through the grasc.
shall piep for her an caning mass.
At last the rootlets of the trees
Shall And the prison where she lies,
Aud bear the buried dust they seize
In leaves and blossoms to th skies,
so may the soul that warmed it rise !
If ai,y, born of kindlier blood.
Should ask. What maiden lits below.'
Say only this ; A tender bud
That tried to blossom in the snow
Lies withered where the violets blow.
vVIIAT DYING PEOPLE SEE.
It is somewhat singular that the nat
ural longing to penetrate the great se
cret of mortality should not have sug
gested to some of the inquirers into so
called "spiritual" manifestations that
before attempting to obtain communica
tion with the dead, through such poor
methods as raps and alphabets, they
might more 2ro2rrly, and with better
hope of gaining a glimpse through the
' gates ajar," watch closely the dying,
and study the psychological phenomena
which accompany the act of dissolution.
Thus, it might be possible to ascertain,
by comparison of numerous instances,
wiietner among inose pnenometiTi are ;
any which seem to indicate that- the
mind, soul or self of the expiring per
son is not undergoing a process of ex
tinction, but exhibiting such tokens as
might bo anticipated wero it entering
upon a new jihase of existence, and com
ing into possession of fresh faculties.
It is at least conceivable that some
such indications might be observed,
were we to look for them with care and
caution, under the rare conditions wher
in they could at any time be afforded;
and, if this should irove to be the fact,
it is needless to dilate on the intense in
terest of even such semblance of con
firmation of our hopes.
In a majority of death the accom
panying physical conditions hide from
the spectators whatever 213ychological
phenomena may be taking place. The
sun of our poor human life mostly si ts
behind an impenetrable cloud. Of all
forms of death, the commonest seems to
be the awful "agonj" with its uncon
scious groats and bteutorous breath.
The dying person seems to sink lower
and lower, as if beneath the waters of
an unfathomable sea; a word, a motion,
a glance, rising up at longer nrd longer
intervals, till the last slow and distant
&ighs terminate the woeful strife, and
the victory of death is complete. When
this is the mode of dissolution, it is of
course hopeless to look for any indica
tion of the fate of the soul at its exodous;
1 and the same holds good as regards
death ia extreme old age, or after ex
hausting disease, when the sufferer very
literally ''falls asleep." Aguin, there
are death whi"h are accompanied by
crreat -pain or delirium, or winch are
caused by sudden accidents, altogether
hiding from our observation the mental
condition of the patient. Only in a
small residue of cases the bodily condi
tions are such as to cause neither inter
ference with, nor yet concealment of,
the process of calm and peaceful disso
lution, in the full light of mental sanity,
and it is to these only we can look with
any hope of fruitful observation. We
ask whether, in such cases, instances
have ever been known of occurrences
having any signilicance, taken in con
nection with the solemn event where
with they are associated? Does our
forerunner on the hilltop show by his
looks and actions since he is too far off
to speak to us that he beholds, from
his 'Teak in Darien," an ocean yet hid
den from our view ?
I should hesitate altogether to affirm
positively that such is the case; but,
after many inquiries on the subject, I
am still more disinclined to assert the
contrary. The truth seems to be that,
in almost every family or circle, ques
tions will elicit recollections of death
bed scenes, wherein, with singular re
currence, appears one very significant
incident, namelj-, that the dying person,
precisely at the moment of death, and
when the power of speech wa3 lost, or
nearly lost, seemed to see something
or rather, to speak more exactly, to be
come conscious of something present
(for actual sight is out of the question)
of a very striking kind, which remained
invisible to and unperceived by the as
sistants. Again and again this incident
is repeated.' It is described almost in
the same words by persons who have
never heard of similar occurrences, and
who suppose their own experiences to
be unique, and have raised no theory
upon it, but merely considered it to be
OREGON CITY, OREGON, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1877.
"strange," "curious," "affecting," and
nothing more. It is invariably ex
plained that the dying person is lying
quietly, when suddenly, in the very act
of expiring, he looks up sometimes
starts up in bed and gazes on (what
appears to be) vacancy, with an expres
sion of astonishment, sometimes devel
oping instantly into joy, and sometimes
cut short in the first emotion of solemn
wonder and awe. If the dying man
were to see some utterly unexpected but
instantly recognized vision, causing him
a great surprise, or rapturous joy, his
faeo could not better reveal the fact.
The very instant this phenomenon oc
curs death is actually taking place, and
the eyes glaze even while they gaze at
the unknown sight. If a breath or two
still heave the chest, it is obvious that
the soul has already departed.
A few narrations of such observations,
chosen from a great number which have
been communicated to the writer, will
serve to show more exactly the point
which it is desired should be establish
ed by a larger concurrence of testimony.
The following are given in the words of
a friend on whose accuracy every reli
ance can be placed:
"I have heard numberless instances
of dying persons showing unmistakably
by their gestures, and sometimes by
their words, that they saw in the mo
ment of dissolution what could not be
seen by those around them. On three
occasions facts of this nature came dis
tinctly within my own knowledge, and
I will, therefore, limit myself to a de
tail of that which I can give on my own
authority, although the circumstances
were not so striking as many others
known to me, which I believe to be
equally true.
"I was watching one night beside a
poor dying man of consumption; his
case was hopeless, but there was no ap
pearance of the end being very near; he
was in full possession of his senses, able
to talk with a strong - voice, and not in
the least drowsy. lie had slept through
the day, and was as wakeful that I had
been conversing with him on ordinary
subjects to while away the long hours.
Suddenly, while we were thus talking
quietly together, he became silent, and
fixed his eyes on one particular spot in
the room, which was entirely vacant,
even of furniture. At the same time a
look of the greatest delight changed the
whole expression of his face, and, after
a moment of what seemed to be intense
scrutiny, he said to me in a joyous tone,
'There is Jim.' Jim was a little son
whom he ho had lost the year before,
and whom I had known well; but the
dying man had a son still living, named
John, for whom he had sent, and I con
cluded it was of John he was speaking,
and that he thought he heard him ar
riving, so I answered:
" 'No. John has not been able to
come.
"The man turned to me impatiently
and said, 'I do not mean John. I know
he is not here, it is Jim, my little lame
Jim; surely you remember him?'
ies, I said, 'I remember dear lit
tle Jim, who died last year, quite well.'
" 'Don't you see him then? There he
is,' said the man, pointing to the vacant
place on which his eyes were fixed, and,
when I did not answer, he repeated al
most fretfully. 'Don't you see him
standing there?'
"I answered that I could not see him,
though I felt perfectly convinced that
something was visible to the sick man
which I could not perceive. When I
gave him this answer he seemed quite
amazed, and turned round to look at me
with a glance of indignation. As his
eye.s met mine, I saw that a flim seemed
to pass over them, the light of intelli
gence died away, he gave a gentle sigh
and expired. lie did not live five min
utes from the time he first said: 'There
is Jim,' although there had been no
sign of approaching deatli previous to
that moment.
"The second c;tse was that of a boy
about 11 years of r.ge, dying also of do
clino. He was a refined highly-educated
child, who throughout his long illness
had looked forward with much hope and
longing to the unknown life to which
tie beiieved lie was Hastening, un a
bright summer morning it became evi
dent that he had reached his last hour
He lost the power of speech, chiefly
from weakness, but he was perfectly
sensible, and made his wishes known to
us by his intelligent looks. lie was sit
ting propped up in bed, and had been
looking rather sadly at the bright sun
shine playing on the trees outside his
open window for some time. He had
turned away fron this scene, however,
and was facing the end of the room,
where there was nothing whatever but
a closed door, when all in a moment the
whole expression of his face changed to
one of the most wondering rapture,
which made his half-closed eyes open
to their utmost extent, while his lips
parted with a smile of ecstasy; it -was
impossible to doubt that some glorious
sight was visible to him, and from the
movement of his eyes it was plain that
it was not one, but many objects on
which he gazed, for his look passed
from end to end of what seemed to be
the vacant wall before him, going back
ward and forward witli ever-increasing
delisht manifested in his whole aspect
His mother then asked him if what he
saw was some wonderful sight beyond
the confines of the world, to give her a
taken that it was so by pressing her
hand. He at once took her hand and
pressed it meaningly, giving thereby an
intelligent affirmative to her question,
though nnable to speak. As he did so
a chango passed over his face, his eyes
closed, and in a few minutes he was
gone.
"The third case, which was that of my
own brother, was very similar to the
last. He was an elderly man, dying of
a painful disease, but one which never
for a momeut obscured his faculties
Although it was known to be incurable,
he had been told that he might live
some months, when somewhat suddenly
the summons came on a dark January
morning. It had been seen in the course
of the night that he was sinking, but for
some time he had been perfectly silent
and motionless, apparently in a state of
stupor; his eyes closed, and his breath
ing was scarcely perceptible. As the tar
dy dawn of the winter morning revealed
the rigid features of the countenance
from which life and intelligence seemed
to have quite departed, thosa who
watched him felt uncertain whether he
still lived; but suddently, while they
bent over him to ascertain the truth, he
opened his eyes wide, and gazed eagerly
upward with such an unmistakable ex
pression of wonder and joy that a thrill
of awe passed through all who witnessed
it. His whole face grew bright with a
6trange gladness, while the eloquent
eyes seemed literally to shine as if re
flecting some light on which they gazed;
he remained in this attitude of delight
ed surprise for some minutes, then in a
moment th6 eyelids fell, the head drop
ped forward, and with one long breath
the spirit departed."
A different kind of case to those above
narrated by my friend was that of a
young girl known to me, who had pass
ed through the miserable experiences
of a sinful life in Aldershot, and then
had tried to drown herself in the river
Avon, near Clifton. She was in some
way saved from suicide, and placed for
a time in a penitentiary, but her health
was found to be hopelessly ruined, and
she was s nt to die in the quaint old
workhouse of St. Peter's at Bristol.
For many months she lay in the infinia
ry literally perishing piecemeal of dis
ease, but exhibiting patience and sweet
ness of disposition quite wonderful to
witness. She was only 18 years, poor
young creature! when all her little
round of errors and pain had been run;
and her innocent, pretty face might
have been that of a child.
She never used any sort of cant (so
common among women who have been
in refuges) , but had apparently some
how got hold of a very living and real
religion, which gave her comfort and
courage and inspired her with the beau
tiful spirit with which she bore her
frightful sufferings. On the wall oppo
site her bed there hung by chance a
print of the lost sheep, and Mary S ,
looking at it one day, said to me, "That
is just what I was, and what happened
to me; but I am being brought safe
home now." For a long time before
her death her weakness was such that
she was quite incapable of lifting her
self up in bed, or of supporting herself
when lifted, and she, of course, con
tinued to lie with her head on the pillow
while life gradually and painfully ebbed
away, and she seemingly became nearly
unconscious. In this state she had been
left one Saturday night by the nurse in
attendance. Early at dawn next morn
ing an Easter morning as it chanced
the poor old women who occupied the
other bods in the ward were startled
from their sleep by seeing Mary S
suddenly spring up to a sitting posture
in her bed, with her arms outstret jieI,
and her face raised, as if in a perfect
rapture of joy and welcome. The next
instant the body of the poor girl fell
back a corpse. Her death had taken
place in that moment of mysterious ec
stasy.
A totally different case again was that
of a man of high intellectual education,
well known in the world of letters.
When dying peacefully, as became the
close of a profoundly religious life, and
having already lost the power of speech,
he was observed suddenly to look up as
11 at some spectacle invisible to those
around with an expression of solemn
surprise and awe, very characteristic,
it is said, of his habitual frame of mind.
At that instant, and before the look had
time to falter or change, the shadow of
death passed over his face, and the end
had come.
In j'et another case I am told that at
the last moment so bright a light seem
ed suddenly to shine from the face of a
dying man that the clergyman and an
other friend who were attending him
actually turned simultaneously to the
window to seek for the cause.
Another incident of a very striking
cnaracter occurred in a well knowu
family. A dying lady exhibited the as
pect of joyful surprise to which we have
so often referred, spoke of seeinsr one
after another, three of her brothers who
had long been dead, and then apparent
ly recognized, last of all. a fourth
brother, who was believed by the by-
standers to ue sun living in India. The
coupling or his name with that of his
dead brother excited such awe and hor
ror in the mind of the person present
that she rushed from the room. In due
course of time letters were received
anuouncing the death of the brother in
India, which had occurred some time
before his dying sister seemed to recog
nized him.
Again, in another case a gentleman
who had lost his only son some years
previously, and who had never recov
ered from the amictiug event, exclaim
ed suddenly when dying, with the air
of a man making a most rapturous dis
covery, "1 see him! I see him!
Not to multiply such anecdotes too
far, anecdotes which certainly possess a
uniformity pointing to similar cause,
whether that cause be physiological or
psychical, I will now conclude with one
authenticated by a near relative of the
persons concerned. A late well known
bishop was commonly called by his sis
ters "Charlie," and hia elder pister bore
the pet name of "Liz." They had both
been dead some years, when their
youngest sister, Mrs. W , also died,
but before her death appeared to behold
them both. While lying still and ap
parently unconscious, she suddenly
opened her eyes and looked earnestly
across the room, as if she saw some one
entering. Presently, as if overjoyed,
she exclaimed, "O, Charlie!" and then,
after a moment's pause, with a new
start of delight, as if he had been join
ed bv some one else, she went on,
"And" Liz!" and then added, "How
beautiful you are!" After seeming to
gaze at the two beloved forms for a few
minutes, she fell back on her pillow
and died.
Instances like these, might, I teliave.
be almost indefinitely multiplied were
attention directed! to them, and the ex
perience of survivors more generally
J communicated and recorded. Review
COURTESY OF BANCROFT LIBRARY
ing them, the question seems to press
upon us, whyhould we not thus catch
a glimpse of the spiritual world through
the half -open portals wherein our dy
ing brother is passing? If the soul of
man exists at all after the extinction of
the life of the body, what is more prob
able than it should begin at the very in
stant when the veil of the flesh is drop
ping off to exercise those spiritual pow
ers of perception which we must sup
pose it to possess (else were its whole
after life a blank) , and to become con
scious of other things than those of
which our dim senses can take cogniz
ance? If it be not destined to an eter
nity of solitude (an absurd hypothesis)
its future companions may well be rec
ognized at once, even if it goes forth to
meet them. It seems, indeed, almost a
thing to be expected, that some of
them should be ready waiting to wel
come it on the threshold. Is there not,
then a little margin for hope if not for
any confident belief that our anticipa
tions will bo verified; nay, that the ac
tual experience of not a few has veri
fied them ? May it not be that when
that hour comes for each of us that we
have been wont to dread as one of part
ing and sorrow
" The Wt long farewell ou the hhore
of this wide world,"
Ere we "put off into the unknown
dark," we may find that we only leave,
for a little time, the friends of earth to
go straight to the embrace of those who
have long been waiting for us to make
perfect for them the noble life beyond
the grave ? May it not be that our very
first dawning sense of that enfran
chised existence will be the rapture of
reunion with the beloved ones whom we
have mourned as lost, but who have
been standing near, waiting longingly
for our recognition , as a mother may
watch beside the bed of a fever stricken
child till reason illumines its eyes, aud
with outstretched arms it cries,
"Mother!"
There are some, alas! to whom it must
be very dreadful to think of thus meet
ing on the threshold of eternity, the
wronged, the deceived, the forsaken.
But for most of us, God be thanked, no
dream of celestial glory has half the
ecstacy of the thought that in dying we
may meet at once, before we have had
a moment to feel the awful loneliness
of death the parent, wife, husband,
child, friend of our life, soul of our
soul, whom we consigned long ago with
breaking hearts to the grave. Their
"beautiful forms (as that dying lady
beheld her brother and sister) entering
our chamber, standing beside our bed
of death, and come to rejoin us forever
what words can tell the happiness of
such a vision ? It may be awaiting us
all. There is even, perhaps, a certain
probability that it is actually the desti
ny of the human soul, aud that the af
fections, which alone of earthly things
can survive dissolution, will, like mag
nets, draw the beloved and loving spir.
its of the dead around the dying. I see
no reason why we sho"uld not indulge
so ineffably blessed a hope. But, even
if it be a dream, the faith remains,
built on no such evanescent and shad
owy fonndation, that there is one
friend and He the best in whose arms
we shall surely fall asleep, and to
whose love we may trust for the re
union, sooner or later, of the severed
links of sacred human affection.
Frances Poirer Cobbet in Covlempoi-ary
lievieir.
Analysis of Petroleum. Anything
in relation to petroleum is presumed to
be interesting at the present time, and
for this reason it may not be out of
place to notice that the chemical con?
stituents of rock oil are carbon and hy
drogen, generally ninety parts carbon
and ten parts hydrogen, by weight.
The proportions form about an equal
bulk, carbon being heavy while hydro
gen is light and volatile. Originally
they both existed in gases, and by their
union they formed protocarburet of hy
drogen, which, being condensed, forms
naphtha, or light volatile oil, and, after
the escape of a portion of hydrogen, the
product is heavy petroleum. By a fur
ther escape of hydrogen, the product
becomes more solid, as bitumen, pitch
or asphaltum, the highest.stages of con
densation being cannel, bituminous and
anthracite coal. The diamond is the
purest state of solidified carbon, and is
probably a crystalization of carbonic
acid gas, unadulterated by hydrogen
Coal oil is artificially produced by con
verging oil into gas, adding a proper
equivalent of hvdrogen and then con
densing the gas. Iron, sulphuric acid
and water, when placed in contact, give
off hydrogen gas. Burning charcoal
gives off carbonic acid gas. Mix these
gases in proper proportions, subject
them to heat under confinement, then
allow the heated gas to escape through
water, and the condensation will pro
duce carbon oil ou the surface of the
water, but it will cost about ten dollars
a gallon, even if you get through with
out au explosion. Osceola ReceiUe.
Riding on a Whale's Back. Mr. D
Finney, with his neighbor. Ancel Bart
lett, were off Gunner's point, South
T-fct il - t 1 mi
i'lymoutu, coot snooting, niey were
in separate dories, as far apart as boats
usually are in that sport, when a hump
back whale rose some distance off and
spouted. He rose again near the boat.
and Mr. Finney thought, by the direc
tion he was taking, that the next time
he came up he would come ahead of the
boat, and he would give him a shot.
While waiting for him to come uj,
kneeling in the kottom of the dory, he
felt a shock, and, as he expres es it,
found himself on the whale's back dry
shod. The next thing he knew he went
down and came up on the other side of
the boat. Probably the whale sank
when he found he had a rider, and drew
the man with hira. Wlftn he cam up
he was near Mr. Bartlett's dory and was
taken into his boat. Throughout the
whole he had held on to his gun, and
brought it on board with him. Boston
Herald.
It was a backward debtor who said:
"The dues you say."
9 I
MMIM HIKmjl,iyi.WeLUHiaS
November Fashions.
Very large buttons are all the rage.
Mos3 green is the fashionable color.
Cloak sleeves are rather larger and
loose.
Jacquard cloth is a new cloaking
material.
Black Chantilly lace is agaiu used on
bonnets.
Cleft halo brims are among the novel
ties in bonnets.
Cheviot tartans are among the novel
ty wool fabrics.
Clair de lune, or moonlight gray, is
the coming color.
Carrick capes and Carrick caps are
handsome novelties.
Slate, grey and orange are fashion
able combinations of color.
Floral trimmings for evening dresses
are richer than ever.
Curled cock's feathers tipped with
jet are very fashionable.
Neigeueseandbourette are the leading
winter dress fabrics.
Flat flounces, pleatings, bows and
trimmings aro de rigeuer.
Black Swedish gloves' of undressed
kid are fashionable far demi-toilet.
Kilt pleats in the back of polonaise
skirts are a feature of the moment.
Oriental, Torchon, Smyrna, aud Ra-
gusa 2oint are the laces of the season.
Low, square-necked princess dresses
are the most fashionable for evening
wear.
The prevailing colors for cheviot tar
tans are combinations of gray, blue and
red.
Bulgarian cloth and Schamyla cloth
are bourettes of Muscovite origin or
suggestion.
Side draperies are inado of one larere
box or Watteau pleat on many stylish
costumes.
Ulsters of waterproof, lady's cloth and
camel's hair are the popular winter
traveling garments.
Cloak trimmings are large buttons,
aigraffes, braids and passementeries,
velvet, silk, and fringes.
New styles of underskirts have floun
ces trimmed with open-work embroid
ery in Fayal designs.
Bustles are no longer worn ; three floun
ces on the back breadths of underskirts
take their place.
Beaded trimmiugs almost cover even
ing dresses, making them look as if
studded with, jewels.
Chemises with drawers attached
(chemelettes) are found in A. T. Stew
art's lingerie department. .
Coaching, Breton, tnd Serb;A i
ets are simulated on many an-. ?
polonaises and in princess drjssec.
French gray corduroy dresses .ro
made up in very plain styles, with lit
tle drapery, but are richly trimmed.
Strawberry vines, showing leaves,
fruit, and flowers, are among the pretti
est of tloral garnitures for evening toil
ets.
A Lone Wait for a. Wedding.
Orange county has just had a wed
ding with enough romance about it for
a novel. In 1852 the bridegroom, then
a young man, though under an engage
ment to the lady whom he has just mar
ried, enlisted in the Union army. His
sweetheart made no effort to dissuade
him from what he thought his duty, and
with a breaking heart she bade him
adieu and quietly buried herself in her
homo with her widowed mother, the on
ly living member of the family beside
herself. For a while all went well, and
loving letters from his bweetheart
cheered the gallant soldier, and tender
words of hope from him made life en
durable to her. After the battle of
Chancellorsville his letters suddenly
ceased. Letter after letter was written
tohimandhis comrades, but all that
could be learned was that after that
terrible battle he was missing. Whether
he bad been killed or taken prisoner
no one could tell, and his fate remain
ed a mystery. His stricken sweetheart
never entirely abandoned hope, and
lived on, "tender and true," hoping
against hopofor his return. After many
patient years her troth has been reward
ed, and she is now a happv bride. His
narrative is that some time during the
fight he was taken prisoner, and soon
after he was sent to a Southern prison,
where he was kept about a year, suffer
ing untold torture. He finally escaped
and reached the seaboard, where he con
ceived the idea of personating an Eng
lish sailor and getting to England on a
blockade-runner. After that all is a
blank. He learned afterwards that he
had been taken ill and soon after insane.
On his arrival in England he was taken
to an insane asylum by the Captain of
the blockade-runner, where he remain
ed until a year ago, when he was discharg
ed cured, but, penniless. He succeed
ed by the assistance of friends in the
asylum in securing a situation in a mer
cantile house, where he rapidly won the
esteem of the principals, to whom he
told his story. A leave of absence was
granted him ; he came to Middletown
and found his old sweetweart, now a
mature lady of 32, still faithful to his
memory. They were quietly married,
and have returned to England, where
he proposes to remain for a term of
years. During his long absence his only
survivincr relatives, a brother and uncle,
had died, and he had no ties to keep him
here, save the love of country, which
will eventually bring him aud his faith
ful wife back to our shores. A Ibany
N". Y.) Arfvs.
A Pbofeskor in an Iowa female college
caught two of the students out riding
with their beaus a proceeding prohibit
ed by the rales of the college. He
stopped the carriage and attempted to
pull the girls out. when the young men
knocked him in the mud and the girls
finished their ride.
All opinions should be respected even
when they are sincere.
NO. 5.
The Indian Basket Trick.
Ever since the capture of the strange
empire of India by the English, or for
more than a hundred years, the civilized
people have been hearing of the marvel
ous feats performed by the native jug
glers. Naturally, Houdin'a announce
ment of the Indian basket trick made a
great sensation. The curtain arose and
disclosed a wicker basket of oblong
shape standing upon what appeared, to
be a light table, without any cloth cover
upon it. The juggler entered, drag
ging a beautiful youth, dressed as an
Indian prince, wearing a robe of white
cashmere embroidered with gold, while
upon his head waved a peacock's pluma .
held by a diamond star.
"Mercy! mercy!" cried the child.
"No no mercy. You are an Indian
and a prince, and must die," was the
savage response.
"I am only a child," cried the in
nocent boy.
"That will not prevent my killing
you."
With piercing shrieks the child broke
away and rushed to the side wing, only
to be seized there by his executioner,
who, lifting him in his arms, plunged
him into the basket, which he closed,
strapping down the cover. Then he
drew his sword, and having tested its
sharpness by striking it in the floor, lie
thfust it in the basket again and again,
while the victim inside gave the most
heart-rending cries of pain and agony.
Each time the sword was pulled out it
was seen to be covered with blood, while
the sobs and groans from the inside of
the basket grew fainter and fainter, till
at length they ceased, and a ghostly si
lence ensued. During this scene the
excitement among the audience was in
tense. Ladies hd their faces behind
their fans; some wept aloud; menshout
ed hoarsely, "Enough!" The smiling
juggler bowed, and proceeded to un
strap the basket, which he turned
mouth upward to the audience, showing
it to be entirely empty. In the midst
of the applause which followed from
the amused and relieved audience, the
little Indian prince was seen to be seat-,
ed in a box in the center of the audito
rium, kissing his tiny hand to those
about him, as well as to his friend the
executioner on the stage.
This trick was performed with tin aid
of looking-glasses inserted between the
table legs a contrivance now commonly
used in pantomimes and other show
pieces put upon our stage. But it was
a new thing then, and the scene was re
markably well played by Houdin and
the child. As soon as the boy got in
the basket, he opened a trap door in the,
bottom of it, which was placed over a
corresponding opening in the table,
j f':-Men by the looking glass, he vrouch
eu i.jw l '",-.-n th table legs, and
shriJ uud sobbed intil tha proper
"monitor. t camo for 'hii JcoCenJ
through a trap in the stage, and so pasa
around to the box in the front of the
theater. A sponge full of a red liquid
was placed at a certain spot inside the
basket, and the sword, passing through
this, seemed to be dripping with blood.
It was imperative that the juggler
should not pass in front of the table,
else his legs would have been reflected
there, and that would have disclosed
the entire secret. Houdin became dis
satisfied with this trick, and made many
improvements in it, which the jugglers
of our day have still further periected.
It is palpable that this cannot be the
way in which Indian jugglers perform
the trick in the market-places or other
public squares, in broad daylight.
They have no looking glass table, no
traps through the earth.
Houdin's theory concerning them was
that their basket had an opening in it,
either at its front or its back, and that,
while buckling and strapping down the
cover, with the knee lifted up and press
ed on the basket as if to tighten the
leather strap more securely, the child
crept out under the bent knee, and hid
beneath the voluminous robes of the
juggler. Then, while the sword ia
piercing the basket, and the child's sobs
are most heart-rending, the crowd gath
ers in a compact mass about it, and into
the crowd the child easily escapes with
out being seen, and runs away. At the
proper moment he comes running back,
as if from a distance, and of course the
astonishment of the crowd is unparal
leled, for the basket has, in the mean
time, been opened and shown to be
empty. Olive Logan, in Harper's Maga
zine. Gwine Home. "Doctor, is I got to
go?"
"Aunt 'Liza, there's no hope for you."
"Bress de Great MarsUr for his
goodness. Ise ready."
The doctor gave a few directions to
the colored women that sat around
Aunt 'Liza's bed. and started to leave,
when he was recalled by the old woman,
who was drifting out with the tide:
"Marse John, stay wid me till it'
ober; I wants to talk ob de ole times. I
knowed you when a boy; long 'fore you
went and been a doctor. I called you
Marse John den, I call you de same
now. Take yo' ole mammy's hand,
honey, and hole it. Ise lived a long,
long time. Ole marster and old missus
had gone before, anddechillun from de
ole place is scattered ober de world.
I'd like to see 'em 'fore I start on de
journey to-night. My ole man is gone
and all de chillun I nussed at dis breast
has gone, too. Dey's waitin for dere
mudder on de golden shore. I bress de
Lord, Marse John, for takin' me to
meet 'em dar. Ise fought de good
fight, and Ise not afraid to meet de Sa
vior. No mo work for poor ole mam
my; no mo' trials and tribulations
hold my hand tighter, Marse John
fadder, mudder marster missus
chillun Ise gwine home.
The soul, while pluming its wings for
its flight to the Great Beyond, rested
on the dusky face of the sleeper, and
the watchers, with bowed heads, wept
silently. She was dead. Drunsvicker.
A woman's skeleton sells for more
than a man's in Philadelphia, but it's a
week's extra work to wire the jaws, you
know.
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