Oregon City enterprise. (Oregon City, Or.) 1871-188?, December 20, 1877, Image 1

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VOL. 111.
NO. 9.
A I, O C i L .XEWSP A P BR "
! -' ' V O B ' T H E
Fvriurr, Hu.lurH M n 11 and Fauiily 4'irrle
Official Pperjor Clackamas Couuty.
Ollje: In Kntorjtrise i:tiil,l4ii-.
Ua' d.iur Sontu tf Maqonic Unildint;, Main Street.
Term ol" .Hiilrri Iwii :
Siua! ''Jl'y. uue year, iu advance $ r0
Sinjlu .'!' , kix months, iu advance I it)
iVruit of Al t -r( IhIui; :
Triuaiut advertisements, including all local
byti.-Cb, i-r square ol twelve, lung, uun
eek , $ 'J 50
fjr each subsequent insertion 100
Due Column, oue year 120 00
Half Column, oue year 00 00
yuiittT Column, one year 40 00
Bumpers Card, one square, ne year 12 00
OREGON LODGE, No. 3, I. O. O. F.
Mtta every Thursday Evening. atA. . .
; oVlx k. in Odd Fellow' Hall. OV.a " I
iliu Street. Members of the Orilergp-ta-';
ire uiYitwl t alt.nl.
l!y orJor of O,
j. u. r.. meeix uu iua ucond and i7-t --Z
Fourth l ne Mlay hveuinini it each month. f--r
tr , iiciix a, in me juh rrii.iws Hall.
Hemiiers 01 i;ie nene are mvitej to
1.1). U. .. meet at Mil Fellows' Hall on
tin; Flint anl Thir.l 'l in K.lay of each month,
fitiiarlis in (j.)od .staiuliu;; are inviteii to
A F. t'A.M.. holds lU regular I'onin. i. ni
fitiMi" " ll Frit an4 TbirJ Saturday
Inn b month, at 7 o'eliipk from th "oil.
u( Srptenint r U tbe WtU of Man-h ;.aml '''rS
oVlock fnm tho '."I'th of Afiir. h t.. ' S
tbur Mc'ptiiinlier. Brethren in yooj slandin' are
lavitej t.i attend. Ky order of W. M.
. - - . .. -
riiysirian and Surgeon.
r ttnilitate of tUo I'uivuraity of "Puiiusylvania.
Oijii k ir Cliff Hovm.
. o C A X liV, OREGON,
l'li si ian ami I: u;is.
J"rTes.Tl.tioi)i carefully filled at short notice.
Vliysiciaii and SmrMii.
0Ki'(i.. City, Orehox.
Cbr-ui,; I:Wh and Di.seas.-s of Women and
Mill. U i apeciaity.
D.Uce H.ir, day an l ui,rilt. alwavs ready when
1 rFlL'E 1N" OKKooxcrrr orhoov
Hijliet ci,b price ..aid for County Orders.
JOHNSON & Mrcnww
- - - , k a-V ' .
'nl .''' 'u H Hi Courts of the Slate
, .... y.nue ui Oregon t'ltv.
Uttouxky AT LAW.
!H I'Uutlee in all thn Courts of tbe State
1 novl, '75-tf
w. h. highfieldT
on,, dur N-urth of PjJ)e.8 IIalI
id . ST" ol,,;UM t-ixv. uki:uov
" ZuA t'VB,,t rl, k8' U r
VLaY . "s r l'ri""ute.l. lEife
Utr!;;,;""' on siiort "-"s uJatsi
M,, tr .... ty Or,lVr,
M X lK TO OKl:l(.
Oregon C itt, Obkc.on.
Al Ilia P,l (im... M.I.. I.-I....I
- - , jii.u .n-ic, Kim Hl.ie.
M novl. '73 if
y 4 J R. goldsmith,
t olloflur and SIii,or.
i!j?Utst of refeltnces iveli. e 2j-'T7
Hubs, SoUos. BCims.
uur31.'7o-tf lvtUiul. On sn,
J. H. shepard,
ht am) siioi: sToiti-:,
One door Xorth of Ackerm.ni Bros.
"B Hita and Phoc made and rei aired as cbean
V tbe cheapest. novl. "7i-tf
1 .... -
At all times, at tbe
Bt have on hand FEED and FLOUR to sell, at
'"i ttc-n Parties desirins Eeed nmst furnish
'aw novli-tf
Pioneer JSooIc 15iinltr'
fctta.v4 UuiidiD8 cor. of Stark and Trout Sts.,
rtJ rtteru. Miisiu Botks. Jiagazines,
-Va t1"' tc- b,,tlUl, n every variety of style
JNtti lh trJ. Orders from the country
JMUu.ltd to. novl. 75-tf
IS ZTUt ve Brewery, 55E
w prtU t ,h8 Vnhllc that they .rV&gfej
lualltY tj "fcmufactuw, a No. 1 W?5g,.
J quality
Ugoda?citHGER BEER.
S Obtatnal .nt-n.h-a In tia State
. ui
y I
The foolish bud would fain become a flower;
. And rtauut its heart out in the fair sunshine,
Tbe ardont bloosom, treniulous on its vine
Dreams only of a golden fruitful hour.
Amber and amethyst, of royal dower.
The perfect, purple clusters hang, and pine
To iiur their .souls forth into perfumed wine
Impatient leaning from their sheltered bower.
O blind ones ! All your blonded fetorea of scent
And subtle sweets to this poor end are spent;
That man should idly quaff from sparkling glass
Your dew and fire and spice : sighing, while e'er
Your honey lingers on his Hps, Alas
The bud, the bl.miii, the fruit ! How sweet they
were !" Scribntr for December.
N'tght winds, w hy haunt ye weary soulu.
Com in;; from dusky dells where fragrant ferns
With carved minarets prick all the ((loom.
Ami incense breathe round dying days.
While Summer sun to reddening ember burns ?
Why whisper ye of glancing streams.
Slipping o'er Handy xhallows, cool and fair,
Wu.ere leap and glide the speckled, gleaming trout,
1 hat swift as silver lightnings flash
When lured from hiding in a shadowed lair?
Why murmur ye of singing pines
That from unbending height, like pilgrim saiut.
Uplift in constant, wordless, tragraut prayer,
The grateful homage of their praise.
Nor of htern Winter's grief make sad complaint?
Why sing of restless, rolling seas
Vhose teuipest voioe of strife and high disdain
May rush to murmurs of sweet lullaby.
On pebbly shore by fisher's cot
Iu song of restful peace lose all its pain '
Oh, haunting, wooing winds of night !
Ye bring to weary souls, on soothing wius.
Visions, of endless, far away delights.
And lull to dreams of purest bliss
The dearest boon that sleep to mortal brings !
Jtoston Transcript.
The raw, bleak breaking of a Decem
ber day in London is something to
make the comfortable sleei)er in a lux
urious bed congratulate himself that he
is not forced to meet it. He turns and
covers his head for tho moat delicious
doze of all, while the damn, frostv rime
clings to the pavement, and the .chill
strikes like a bolt of ice to the very
marrow of tho unfortunate wayfarer.
Two children were making their way
along the suburbs of the great city on
such a morning. One a boy of twelve
with a look of premature wisdom in his
sharp eyes, limped somewhat as he
walked. He had a hollow-cheeked, worn
expression, a3 if the hand-to-hand tus
sle with life, which he had endured
from infancy, was almost too-much, for
him. He wore a pair of blue trowsers
evidently cut down from a grown np
pair, and proclaiming their origin. An
old military cap snrmounted his thin,
light locks, which were powdered with
dust. lie held in one hand an old rake,
and. by tho other he led his sister, a
child of six, whose blue eyes and tangled
curl- wonld have made her pretty had
she any advantages of cleanliness. She,
too, schooled by the great forcing sys
tem of poverty, seems older than her
years, . and toddles along bravely,
though the cold bit her at every gap in
her ragged dress.
"Gimini!" exclaimed the boy, stop
ping to rub his numbed hands; "I wish
I was a hangel, 'coz their clothes never
gits ragged, and ain't they jist warm
and comfortable, with air downy clouds
soft as feather beds."
lien was imaginative and poetical in
his own way.
. "Yes," answered Iiosie, with a con
templative air; "but, my! wouldn't the
dust git in ver feathers when you was
"Oh, yer a goose!" exclaimed Ben,
with a laugh. "Do yer think the an
gels go a roolin among dust heaps. No,
indeed! they jist sail round on the gold
colored, cushiony clouds, and what did
that air mission school feller say ? Oh,
they sing; and some on eui play on
golden harps!"
llosie clasped her hands at the de
lightful picture, and as she did so a
strain of music floated to her ear. It
came from a church near, where the or
ganist was practicing the Christmas
carol. The door stood open, and the
two forlorn children drew timidly
toward it. They had never been at
church in their lives; but now there was
no well-dressed crowd to frisrhten them
away, and, scarcely daring to breathe,
they stepped inside.
The Christmas green were already
up; holly leaves glistened; and crimson
berries glowed; trailing vines drooped
about the font. Shields, in crimson
with golden mottoes, or blue and silver,
framed with gretn, were placed on the
tho walls. Fir trees stood in each cor
ner; a spicy, piny fragrance, like the
breath of the wintry woods, pervaded
the place; and through it all trembled
and pulsed the melodious waves of
sound which seemed to bear the souls
of the poor children up to the throne of
( od.
"I don't see the angel with the gold-
t .ere am t no angels here, goosey!
ihey s upm evm and yer 'are to die
'"K" lu J ue; so 1 was a jokin' al
it, 'cos I ain't goiu' to die jest vet
leave pore little Rosie ." " '
The child clasped his hand with a
"I knows yer wouldn't, Ben!-' she
answered with a quiet faith, as if every
thing was in her brother's hands.
"An now we must go and rake in the
dust heap," he said. "We've lost ten
minutes. There's Mother Meg now."
The old woman referred to under this
friendly title nodded to them as she
came up.
She was a queer assortment of rags
and tatters; every wrinkle and seam of
age on her old face was filled with dust
and ashes. Her gray hair and old mob
cap were plentifully powdered with the
same. Her dress was made of an old
bed ticking which had been fished out
of the same dust heap at which they
en narp, exclaimed Kosie, looking tim
ully up at the great organ, with its gild
church nd burn down, and you an' me
mnnedqim-k and got one of those big
gold stu ks wouldn't we be rich c"
v 'Lot:1Iu'em aint solid!" answered
leii, with superior wisdom; "them's
woml will, .. i;4l :nr .
. i. in. ir ! inn -n . i
all worked. Its arrangement was ex
tremely simple having been left to re
tain its original shape, with the excep
tion of being curtailed sufficiently to
allow of two straight sleeves. It was
confined at the waist by a bit of strong
twine, and was at once plain and service
able. Spite of her strange appearance, the
children were fond of Mother Meg.
They had no parents or relatives, and
she had shown a friendliness to them
that touched their forlorn hearts.'
She gave them advice, and once had
actually made Rosie a Christmas pres
ent . of a new drsss. She had been
known to mend for them also, but Kosie
could do it almost as well.
She was superstitious and believed
in dreams in fact, her dreams were the
great embellishers and cheerers of her
life and she had a firm faith that some
time she would find her fortune in the
dust heap.
It seemed as if the time must soon
come if there was to be any chance for
her enjoying of it for she was now CO
years old ; but her hope was still young.
"To dream three times hand-runnin
is a sure sign, Ben," she would often
say. "There's a good time comin' now.
I don't know as it will be a check, but
there's bin checks found in that air dust
'eap, and momentums likewise of great
families, and my luck's a-comin'!"
"An wot will you do when it comes,
Mother Meg?" Ben would inquire, with
the most intense interest. I know wot
I'd do. I'd take Rosie to the Crystal
Palus an' stay there a week. We'd sleep
under the hedges an' go in every day.
Oh, wot larks!"
"Yes, we'd do that, too," the old wo
man would say, very seriously; "but
fust, I'd 'ave a 'ouse built for us a
white un with a rose-wine at the door.
Lor'! I remember when I fust played
about a door, there was a rose-wine
there; and I see it now, though it was a
many and many long year ago! I've
rooted in dust 'eaps all my life, but I've
never forgot that air cliuibin' rose red
ones they was. Oh, so sweet!"
And the poor old woman would lean
on her dust rake and dream of child
hood's roses, and the subtle fragrance
seemed to steal through tho years and
come to her senses onco more, while the
great dust heap, that loomed like a
mountain before them, and the sluggish
canal that rolled near, melted away.
All her castles in the air included the
forlorn children a fact which showed
that whatever the husk might appear
that enshrined her soul, that soul was
worthy of its origin.
They now j'roceeded to the great
mountain of dirt, where many busy
workers were already employed. A
casual observer, passing this great pile
would never have dreamed of the vari
eties of industries it served.
"Nothing but dust," one might have
said with contempt, but in London the
very dust heaps tbe sweepings and
emptyings of ash-bins and rubbish are
made to contribute not a little to the
wealth of the people.
This particular dust heap was so large
that the workers appeared like ants in
an ant-hill. The trade was divided in
different departments, too, and no one
encroached on the other. They were
quite as honorable about that as the
dealers in higher things.
Mother Meg being one of the oldest
workers had been allowed to introduce
Ben long ago, and the cat de2iartment
had been handed over to him. Rosie
had, as it were, .been brought up at the
dust heap since the time she could tod
dle there, and play with a few cinders
that were sifted from it. Now she had
a little rake, too, and joked around
also in the hope of getting something.
The decayed vegetable were picked
out by some and sold for man a re; oth
ers gathered the tins, and sold them to
be put in a furnace, where the solder
would drop oil' and serve again; and
Benny had all the cats, which were sold
for theirjskins, thewhite ones beiug tho
most valuable.
"'Ere's my luck!" he cried, joyfully,
a few moments after be had commenced,
"A white un already!"
But the moment he exclaimed, Rosie
burst into tears.
"It's Lily!" she cried. "Oh! my dar
ling little Lily! Oh, Ben! you will
never go for to sell her!'
Lily had been her pet kitten, and
lost for a day or two. The poor chil
dren had lavished a good deal of affec
tion on Lily. The little, soft, pure
white furry creature seemed a sort of
elegant luxury in their poverty a friend
to welcome them when they came home,
something that loved them in spite of
their misery and distress and Rosie
had had a good cry when it was missed.
But to meet it again, with its white
fur soiled with dust, was too much for
the tender-hearted child, and she went
away near the fence and sat down to
weep bitterly.
"Never mind," Mother Peg whisper
ed. "I know a cat wot s got a whole
batch of kitten, and now to-night's my
birthday, and we'll celebrate it. I've
got a sixpence, and we'll 'ave a couple
o' saveloys they'se tasty and fill in' for
the price and a crummy loaf."
"An' some tamryne water looks like
wine," interposed Ben; "golly wot
And the hope of that simple feast
cheered the two children mightily; but
Rosie still let the tears fall as she
brushed the dust out of Lily's coat.
Within sight of tho dust-heap, but
well back from the road, stood an appa
rently deserted mansion. The trees
were bare that in summer quite screened
it from view, and the green lawns were
brown and bare. The window shutters
were all closed and barred, not an eye
of the great house was open. The vines
had crept up those closed shutters, as
if sealmg.the place doubly; everything
was unkept and untrimmed about it.
Some one stood now, however, at the
rusty gate, and peered in wistfully at the
overgrown paths. He was a shabby,
liaggard-looking young man of about
twenty-five, and there seemed a touch
l a RZJ in his eJe9 as he stared
about the place.
"My God!" he exclaimed, at last; "to
think I played there when a child and
it should be mine and it is gone!"
He groaned audibly; but there was no
one near. The workers at the dust-heap
did not even see him.
"How the lawn used to glitter on
those dewy mornings," he said, wildly;
"and the flowers I have never seen any
such flowers since! Oh, halls of my
childhood, I bid you a long farewell!"
And he turned hurriedly away and
walked toward the slugglish canal, and
stared into its muddy depths as if the
problem that vexed his life might be
solved there.
Ben, in the meantime, delved busily
away in the dust-heap. He had -only
been rewarded . by one black cat,' when
he saw something shine, which made
him plunge wildly among the dust and
ashes. When he had the glittering
thing fast in his hands, then he first
dared to exclaim.
"Sure, this is luck, boy!" cried Mother
Meg, examining it. "This 'ere's gold
an' wotever this skin is that it's last to
is more than I know; but it's got writin'
on it cur'us to write on a skin! There's
bin a picter in this 'ere gold settin'."
It was indeed the setting of a minia
ture that Ben had found. It had been
rolled up in parchment, and made fast
to it, but the picture had evidently fall
en to decay, and the gold and parchment
endured. The setting was very heavy
and elegant, and had evidently contain
ed great pearls, but they were gone..
"Golly!" exclaimed Ben, breathless
with excitement; "air yer certain sure
it's gold?"
"Lor', yes brass would a-bin as green
as grass, yer see."
"Then I'll have that 'ere 'ouse and the
rose-wine, Mother Meg, an' you'll live
in it all the same, 'cos you've bin so
good to ns!" cried Ben triumphantly.
"Oh, 'twon't quite do that, Benny,
boy," said the old woiuaa, with a tear
in her dim eye; "but I thank yer kindly
as yer 'ad it in yer 'art to say. It's
worth a pooty penny, howsomdever. an
wen it's time to knock oft" we'll see about
" 'Tain't no use keepin' this 'ere skin,
is it?" said Ben, giving it a twist, and
learning a lesson of the toughness of
"Oh, yes, keep it. I can make it out,
perhaps, or will git somebody as kin
read better. I'm cur'us wotever any
one would write on that 'ere stuff."
So Ben stuffed the roll in his ragged
shirt, and worked on with a strange ex
hilaration all day. Rosie, too, seemed
cheered by this smile of fortune, for
she laid Lily in a safe nook at last, and
began also to search the dust-heap, for
which she was rewarded by finding
quite a fresh bit of pink ribbon, which
she tied on her hair, for Mother Meg's
birthday celebratiou.
Tho long day grew dim in a cold,
gray wintry eclipse, and one by one the
workers disposed of their gains to the
men who regularly appeared to buy.
The cat merchant did Hot get Lily,
and quite sneered at the black oue,
which he pronounced a "puflic skelling
ton;" but Ben was too happy over his
find to grumble.
"If you won t buy the 'ouse, I'll
I'll buy the dinners for a long time
reg'lar tuck-ins," he said; "but I
wouldn't want to spend it all that 'ere
way, either, cos we wouldn't have noth
in' in the end. But I knows a place, too,
that's such an out-an'-outer sech tripe
and taties like dollops and meal! Oh,
my eyes! but I'll buy Rosie a red cloak
and a 'im-book."
"A 'im-book?" asked Mother Meg,
doubtfully. "Well, wotever is that
"Why, to learn them 'ims wot the an
gels sing, to be sure with them gold
harps. SVouldn't we feel orkard like
when we got to the 'evins, ef we didn't
know nothin' about 'em?"
Mother Meg pondered a few moments
over this solid chunk of wisdom pro
pounded by the child.. JSfe had never
thought of making ready for heaven in
any way, though she nvusit b.e much
nearer her end than little Sec.
01 course, she hoped Xo jceaoii Atat
blessed haven where the mirerable poor,
who are not criminal, expect to have
all the losses and sorrows of this life
made up to them.
"Oh, ain't I hungry , just!" exclaimed
Ben, who had only gnawed a crust at
noon, and Rosie eehoed the sentiment.
"Then we'll hurry up about that 'ere
feast!" exclaimed Mother Meg, cheer
fully. -
But the next moment, Ben, who pre
ceded the party uud whose eyes were
young and sharp, cried out:
"There's a feller takiu' a bath, least
ways, I seen a black head bobbin' up in
the canal. Lor! I'm a green un to
think anybody would take a bath this
freezin day he's a drowndin'!"
"He's drownded!' cried Mother Meg,
hastening to the bank.
But Ben, lame as he was, got before
He could swim like a fish, and he
reached the figure as it rose the third
time. But he would not have been able
to have brought his freight to land if it
had not been for Mother Meg's rake,
which she skilfully hooked in Ben's
rags and brought both to shore.
The young man lay as one dead. His
face was ghastly pale, and his black
curls clung in wet masses over his
forehead. His lips were purple, but
the old woman gave it as her verdict
that life was in him. She went to work
quite intelligently, too; laid his head
lower than his body, and began rubbing
and kneading him. Ben, too, worked
away manfully, till the young man
opened his eyes.
"If we ad a drop o likker, now
said Mother Meg. " 'Ere, we'll give
up the feast, take my sixpence."
" 'Ere's wot the black cat brought."
said Ben, showing two pennies.
"Get two pennyworth o gin, then,
and run!" cried Mother Meg.
But in taking out the money, Ben also
drew out the roll of parchment he had
found, and it fell dowa directly in front
of the opening eyes of the half- drowned
"Am I dreaming?" he cried, as the
gold setting of the miniature fell out.
and he saw the letters entwined in mon
ogram at the top.
He seized it convulsively, and, look
ing at the parchment, uttered a cry.
The lost title-deed of his old home had
been rescued by a child from a dust
heap! He needed now no elixir to revive
him. He had been so sick of life that
he had been glad to let go the worth
less boon.
Sinfully had he flung God's best gift
at his Creator's feet because he had lost
what makes life sweet. His wealth had
drifted away from him, his home had
been claimed by another, and his prom
ised bride forbidden by a overprudent
father to see him again.
Now, as he held that bit of parch
ment in his trembling hands, he felt
that he held fast to life and hope once
more. There was nothing near but the
great dust-heap and the muddy canal,
but he saw a fair vision of his stately
home with its emerald lawn and fl ewer
gemmed garden, and one, the loveliest
flower of all blooming there!
But h did not forget his humble
friends. "God bless you!" he said,
heartily. "You have saved my life, and
something dearer. It will be my care
to make you happy. A Fitzgerald never
forget3 a favor."
And then he gave the children the
little change he had and pointed to the
handsome house in the distance, saying,
with deep emotion, "That is my home
come and see me there!"
And didn't they all have a feast that
night with the juciest beefsteak and
onions, and a "weal and 'am pie" and
real beer, and didn't they indulge
bright visions of the future, which were
all realized, for Edward Fitzgerald
built them a white cottage on his estate,
and there they all lived together, and
there was a climbing rose at the door!
Mother Meg often gazed at it through
dimmed tears, saying, "Yer see that
dreams come true, and I've got the for
tin. though it came through you, Ben
ny, my boy."
Mother Meg would scarcely be recog
nized now as she sits knitting at the flower-framed
window. Her gray hair is
neatly put away under a snowy cap, and
her tidy black dress is scrupulously
free from dust. "She lived in dirt so
long," she says, "she can't a-bear it
now for all they'd never a-bin where
they are but for the dust-heap."
Rosie grows like a flower in that pleas
ant little home. She goes to school with
Ben, and they can both read and learn
the hymns which her brother has set
tled are the very ones sung by the shin
ing ones to their harps of gold in the
New Jerusalem.
The Shipping Interests.
The following table shows the present
seagoing sail and steamer tonnage of the
various nations according to the care
fully prepared statement of the Bureau
Veritas, a world organization for the
classification of vessels (gross tonnage) :
Xo. Tonnage. No. Tonnage.
British 2i),'Jj u.SU'.Slif, a.'-hM 3,:Wi,W2
American 7.2SS J,3U0.5'21 iH2 7KS.728
Norwegian 4.7J9 l,410.1Mj:i liii G.-..874
Italian 4.001 l,29!.07ti 114 'J7.582
Herman :i.4rG H75.04H TMi 2-26.8HS
French a.r 725 .1)48 314 3:14,334
Spanish 2.1(15 5.17 ,82u 24(1 170.250
(irei-k 2.1KU 420..0G II 7,133
Dutch 1,432 S'Jtf.UiCt 120 13 1,600
Swedish 2.121 3V9.128 all 88.07
RllHsiau l,7x.r. :nl,9.r2 151 1O5.U02
Austrian : H5:l 338.084 78 81,209
banish.. 1.38 188.9M Si 00,097
PortugeHe 4.-.0 103,010 20 22,277
So. Anieric'n.. 273 !).,4S9 81 59.023
(VI Auiariu'u.. 153 57.944 0 3,132
Turkiab :(" 48,289 3:( 28,204
Belgian 54 33,344 46,700
Asiatic 42 10.019 11 10,877
African 3 454 . .
Total 07,208 15,5.r3,3G8 0.771 5,080,842
Practical Evolutiox. It has been
reserved for a German lady, Fraulein
Marie Von Chauvin, to accomplish
one of tho most remarkable feats in
evolution on record the changing of
an amphibious gilled double-breathing
animal into one that is lung-breathing
and land-inhabiting. The subject
was the Mexican gilled salamander or
axolotl. Fraulein Von Chauvin owes
her repeated success to gradually accus
toming the animal to life on land and
exorcising instant care as to its health
and diet. Five strong axolotls were se
lected and were first kept in shallow
water. Here they did not thrive, and
the bolder measure of putting them di
rectly on land was resorted to. Tepid
baths twice a day ke2t up cutaneous
respiration, and during the intervals be
tween the baths wet moss was packed
against the bodies. It is stated that the
gills and tail fiu seemed to shrivel by
actual drying, through the action of the
air, and that they were not absorbed by
the vital processes of the animal itself.
This is considered bj- Prof. Huxley to
be a most interesting point, as it shows
how the first air breathing amphibia
may have been evolved from double
breathers by a succession of dry sea
sons, that is, by purely mechanical
causes. Scientific A mericitii .
Small Gains. The following para
graph, taken -from an exchange, shows
how easy it is to accumulate a fortune,
jjrovided proper steps are taken. The
table shows what would be the result at
the end of fifty years by saving a cer
tain amount each day and puttiug it at
interest at the low rate of six per cent.:
Daily saving. The result.
One cent 950
Ten cents 9.504
Twenty centa 19.006
Thirty cents 28,512
Korty centa 38.015
Firty cents 47,520
Sixty cent? 57,024
Seventy cents 00.528
Bighty cents 70,032
Ninety cents 83.537
One dollar. 85.041
Five dollars 472,208
Nearly every person wastes enough in
twenty or thirty years, which, if saved
and carefully invested, would make a
family quite independent; but the prin
ciple of smell savings has been lost
sight of in the general desire to become
suddenly Wealthy by some fortunate
Cosclusive. "Mankind," said a
preacher, "includes woman; for man
embraces woman."
Hide-Bound Trees.
The practice of slitting the outer
bark of fruit trees perpendicularly has
its friends and enemies. We are of the
latter. It deals with the effect instead
of the cause. The cambium layer is
that from which a zone of growth (in
exogenous plants) is, annually added
both to the sap-wood and to the inner
bark. The outer bark is finally exfoli
ated or rent in fissures or scaled off by
the action of the weather. Trees that
are starved increase in growth slowly
and the outer bark becomes so indurat
ed as to resist, to a certain extent, their
growth by retarding the upward pas
sage of tho crude sap from the root to
the leaves and of the elaborated sap
downward. But we think it may be
questioned whether it is not well that
its growth should be retarded. Surely,
if it is true that a tree becomes "hide
bound" because it js starved, increasing
its size is not going to remedy the evil
since we do but furnish more mouths,
so to speak, to be fed by the same
amount of food.
We have seen many trees thus treat
ed. The stems would noticeably in
crease iu size the next year or so, but
there was jio corresponding evidence of
vigor apparent. In most instances it
has seemed to us their vigor was impair
ed. These perpendicular slits, more
over, afford convenient lodgments for
water or moisture, and insects seek such
crevices for shelter or depositing their
eggs. It seems to us that the natural
remedy for hide-bound trees is to en
rich the earth as far as the roots extend ,
and that then the cambium layer, in
creased in quantity and nutriment, will
soon form new liber and alburnum that
the outer bark must expand and the
stem soon become evenly and sufficient
ly developed. Rural J'ew Yitrk.
In a communication to the French
Academy of Sciences, M. Duplessis
gives a remarkable instance of the trans
mission of disaase from one crop to an
other by the agency of floods. He says
that of a field of rye on the banks of the
Loire, one half was attacked with the
disease known as ergot or smut, while
the other half was entirely free from all
traces of disease. The precious crop
had been one of vetches, in which this
disease has never been known to occur,
so that the occurences could not be trac
ed to that score; nor were there any oth
er fields of rye near. It was noticed that
the line of demarcation between the
healthy and unhealthy parts of tho field
was just the limit reached by an over
flow of the river. Some distance from
this field was another crop of rye, which
had been attacked with ergot in the pre
vious year. The inference is that the
germs of the disease were brought down
by tho waters of the Loire from the in- j
fected field, which they overflow, to the
lower field, which was also flooded iu
part. It is well known that disease to
which human beings and animals are
liable, such as typhoid fever and chol
era, may bo conveyed from one .district
to another by running water, and even
more frequent injury to Crops and cat
tle is occasioned by floods in mining and
manufacturing districts.' Large tracts
of land are at this moment lying waste
and worthless through tue effects of
poisonous refuse brought down from
mines and factories, and carried by
floods over fields on the banks of the
stream, which have thereby been poi
soned. All traces of vegetation have
been destroyed, cattle and birds have
been poisoned, by feeding on ground
newly flooded iu this way.- London
Eveby laud-owner should know that
he has a clear title to his real estate. A
very small thing may, in the course of
time, serve as a foundation upon which
to set up a fraudulent claim. Deeds are
frequently not recorded whioh form an
important link in the chain; and, as time
passes away, and the circumstances are
forgotten, noono questions the title, and
all is well. Y'ears afterward, when the
previous owners are dead, some ques
tion comes up, some widow or minor
heirs put in a claim, and a lawsuit, with
its expenses and delay, is the result.
There are thousands of farmers who are
not able to describe their farms by sec
tion, town and range ;aud, if they were
called on to do so before a court they
would ignominiously fail. There are so
many ways of clouding a title that the
best of men are sometimes imposed on.
A farm may be erroneously sold at a
tax-sale, or a judgment may be errone
ously written and the wrong description
placed on record. It is, therefore, im
portant to keep your tax-receipts, for
ever, if need be; and, in case an errone
ous judgment is found against the prop
erty, not to trust some one el so to have
it corrected, but attend to it at once.
Releases of mortages should be looked
after, and a strict compliance with the
law be required. There is a penalty for
neglecting to release a mortgage when
it has been paid; but a great many mort
gagees live outside the State, and con
sequently are not get-at-able. While
health lasts and witnesses are alive, let
the matter be attended to. Chicago Tri
bune. I have lined my poultry buildings
throughout with tarred paper for two
years, putting it between every piece
of board or timber, and even into nests,
and so far, have not seen a louse about.
I had a hen-house overrun with lice
years ago, but upon liniag it with tar
red paper they disappeared and have not
been seen since. Poultry TKorW.
An old farmer, one of Judge Poland's
early associates, recently called upon
him at Lyndon, Vt., and was invited to
take dinner at the hotel. When the old
man took his seat at the table one of the
writers laid a bill of fare before him,
but lie promptly handed it back, saying,
"Judge Poland settles my bill."
Corn as Human Food. One pound
of corn is equal as food to three and
three-quarters pounds of potatoes, or
eight and one-half pounds of cabbage,
b df Dounds of white
J turnips. Gennantown Telegraph.
Some Dream Stories.
The Jackson Patriot says that cot long
ago Thomas I. Daniel, the stenographer
in his circuit, had a droam in which the
practical events of every-day life were .
portrayed with vividness and afterward
came to pass. In his dream he was
about to go to Ann Harbor, and look
ing at the clock, he saw it marked 9, and,
as he had about one hour to spare, he
sat down to some work. In a short
time he looked up again and saw the
hands in the same position as when he
looked before, the clock having stop
ped. His watch said it was but ten
minutes before the train time, and it was
only by running that he succeeded iu
reaching the train. He awoke, went to
sleep again, and again his brain began
to lift the veil from the future. e .
Last spring he lost an overcoat, and
in his second dream Sheriff Webster told
him that the coat was at the jail, and
that Deputy Smith was connected with
the loss. When he awoke the next
morning he said to himself that it wa?
only a dream and dismissed the subject
from his min i. The dreams were re
called suddenly a day or two since, by
his clock stopping and his nearly miss- ,
ing the train. All the incidents were
exactly as portrayed in hif I'ream, and
of this coincidence he spoke to Sheriff
Webster, and also related his other
dreaui. Sheriff Webster told him that
Deputy Smith had a coat at the j til
which he found in the court-room last
spring, aud subsequent investigation
showed it to be Daniel's coat.
The dream in regard to the train calls
to mind an incident which happeued
about three years ago to one of the
editors of the Republican. He was
visiting friends at Potterville, wheie ha
remained over night. He was exceed
ingly anxions to reach Lansing by the
morning train, which passed the station
at an early hour. His friends told him
that they "wonld call him in time, and
so he rested contented. In the latter
part of the night he dreamed that he
was seated at the breakfast table, and
when the meal was partly finished the
train whistled on its approach to the
station. He seized his overcoat, not
even taking time to put it on, and ran
with all spied for the depot, but when
within about ten rods of the building,
the train jjulled out and ho was leit.
When he greeted his friends ia the
morning, he related his dream, and
when they sat down to breakfast he was
assured that it was fully three-quarters
of an hour before the train would be
along. The meal was partly over when
" toot " went the whistle of the engine,
and some very good time for a repre
sentative of the press was made on the
road to the depot, Lut it was not fast
enough to catch the train. Tho dream
came to pass in every particular, much
to the disgust of the dreamer.
A lady who resides on Townsead
street in'this city firmly lelieve that
dreams do come to pass. A few weeks
ago she had a different idea. She is one
of those methodical housekeepers who
have a place for everything and every
thing in its place. It may be well to re
mark that there are no small children
in the family. This lady keep a mo
lasses jug, and that jug Las always Leu
in its proper place, with the exception of
now and then a trip to the groeerj for
a new supply of sweetness. Several
days ago that molasses jug came up
missing, and if there was a sorrowful
face on a woman it belonged to that lady.
The value of the molasses jug wits
nothing ; but to lose itinherownJx&Ais,
where she could go in the dark and find
anything she wanted! For nearly two
weeks her waking hours were trouble
in meditating on that jug, and finally
she dreamed of it. She thought she
went down cellar and removed a large
tin can whieh for some time had ?t,od
bottom side up on a shelf, and under it
she found her molasses jug She i$
still puzzled to know how it ever came
there, as she has no recollection of re?
moving it from its usual place, and her
husband and grown-up son deny any
agency in in the mysterious trausfer.
Isiysitg, Mich., Republican.
Restaurant Waiters. Doubtless
their swallow-tail coats and white chok
ers help to give the restaurant waiters
their frequent resemblance to members
of the learned profession. One of our
most distinguished public men or his
double may be seen any day carrying
a tray in the dining-room of ahotol near
Grace Church. The counterpart of a
well-known Doctor of Sacred Theology
serves at a restaurant farther up town.
When I dine at these places I feel like
asking these gentlemen to be seated and
let me wait upon them. At the village
of B. the barber looks so much like a
certain reverend bishop, that I can never
get used to submitting myself to his pro
fessional attention.
But when you come to look closely
into the physiognomy and phrenology
of these doubles, you find a curious
blankness ; or, speaking artistically, a
lack of firmness and of character in the
drawing. Somewhere in the face or in
the head is betrayed the want of intel
lectual or moral stamina.
Do you not often feel something of
the same lack in the faces of men whose
reputation is wide? It would be inter
esting to note whether in such cases the
reputation has not been merely through
the possession of extraordinary facul
ties of the mechanical sort such as
memory, application, etc., faculties
which generally go with genius and in
sight, but which often themselves suf
fice for the making of contemporary
fame. The Old Cabinet ; Scribner for
When a Newark lover leaves the
house of his adored one at a late hour
in the evening, and walks musingly
homeward beneath the twinkling stars,
his fond fancy pictures her clothed in
white samite, resting 8wee"nP 5f
pillow, with her unbound hair tossed
abont her sleeping face, and angels
Ending over her couch whupenaff
Heavenly dreams. Perhaps that very
moment, though, she is in the pantry,
gnawing hungrily on a ham-bone.
) x