-.4 - -1 ' , - r . -
ORIGINAL DFFFmvF
sr
5
DEVOTED TO NEWS, LITERATURE, AND THE DEST INTERESTS OF OREGON.
VOL. 111.
OREGON CITY, OREGON, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 27, 1877.
NO. 10.
' - - .
I llp fii irtf irfSif 1M
v -ii .ii tmm r im w i r turn i i a l v m - . j.
"S
I
THE ENTERPRISE.
A LOCAL NEWSPAPER
FOB THE
rriuer.UKlnfu r-lc
I3HUKD KVEKY THURSDAY. .
FUOPB1KTOU AND PUEU3HK1'..
Official Paper for Clackamas County.
Oilire: I" Knterprlne Ituililin, .
One Jour South of Masonic Uiiilaing, Main Street.
Trrin of Sitborlilloii s
a;.iUI fldbr. uue y. ar. lu a.lvance.
$2 50
1 5l
, bix mouths, in advauce.
Trriun of Atl ertloJ ib :
TrmUrut ajvirtititMuouts. iucluilint; all legal
iiuUon, jJt-r Bijuaru of twelve liurs, one
wk -
fur each sab.eUt in rtioii
One Column, ona year , !
lf Oolumn, nut) year
QuarUr Column, one yHr
Iki.iuew) Card, one Bjuari, one year
SOCIETY NOTICES.
2 50
1 00
JO 00
60 00
40 no
12 00
OREGON LODGE, No. 3, I. O. O. F.
'WcU evry Thursday Eveulnu, at -S, .
Main Strert. Members of the Order
r In rl iU to att.-nd.
By order of X. O,
REBECCA DEGREE LODGE, No. 2,
j. u. v. t., meets on me soconj and
Fourth TuesnUy Evenings of each month,
at TH o'cliH-k, in th Odit Kellows' Hall.
Vtuiber of the lJegrep are invited to
Ituud.
FALLS ENCAMPMENT, No. 4,
I. U. Oe'.. meet! at Odd Fellows' Hall on
tlie Virt and Third Tuesday of each month.
Patrlan lis in ".od Btnndin-' are invited to
aUMid.
MULTNOMAH LODGE, No. 1,
a. r. a a. m., noias lt regular commiini-
rauoiuonine mrsi ana Third Saturdays 'J.
la ea.'h tnonth fct 7 n'iIiIr rpi.m a 'iAi'i..r
w wVieiuwT i inf -jutn or March ; and
Tfc o clock from tho 2'th of March to the
'Atb (if SepUmber. Brethren in go.Hl standing are
'" w niieiiu. uj oraer of V. M.
BUSINESS CARDS.
WARREN N. DAVIS, M. D
rhysloiaii and Surgeon,
fcraduste of the Vniversityof PetiBsylvauia.
O Office at Cliff House.
CHARLES KNIGHT,
CAXBY. OEEQOS,
riiysician and Irugssl.
V-pri-ii.;riptions carefully filled at short notice.
ja7-tl
PAUL BOYCE, M. D.,
Physician and Surgeon,
OUF.OO.S ClTT, OBF.OO.
i,iseae and diseases of Women and
v.... ..men B kpeniaiiy.
&M?Cull'U ,!tty au'1 ways ready when
"- auu-Ti, '70-tf
DR. JOHN WELCH,
DEXTIST.
Qtrirti tt t,,. -ii-ix-r
" """ t-TT T, OREGON.
"gha,t cash price paid for County Orders.
JOHNSON & McCOWN.
ATTORNEYS aufl COUNSELORS AT LAW
OREGON CICT. OUEGON.
ill liaactics in all the Courts of the State.
ailL. t . ;?r, n Klve w "aes in the Fnited
...uj t,uir ,i uregon City. 3apr2-tf
L. T. SARIN,
IOILVKY AT Ij
OREGON CITT, OREGON.
wlll practice in all the Courts of the State.
novl, '75-tf
W. H. HICHFIELD,
tuhllHllu('Hln(.c -lt.
One door North of Pope's nail,
M AIN ST.. OIIKUMX CITY. OKKUOX.
assortment or Watches, Jowelry. and
"r.Bu 1iui.ii, . 1 1 VI W tilt II J
" warranted to be as represented. tK.
Kepairtng done on short notice; and tlmukiui
ps piiminije.
Viksli Paid tor County Orders.
JOHN M. BACON,
DHAI.ER IS
BOOKS, STATIONERY,
PI0TI RE FRAMES, MOULDINGS AND MISCEL
LANEOUS GOODS.
I'ltAMEM M IK TO ICIr.IC.
Orkoox Citt, Obeoox.
tvAt the Fokt Office, Main Street, west side.
novl, '73-if
J. R. GOLDSMITH,
i'ollocior and SolioUor,
rORTLAND, OUEGOX.
Dy Uest of references ji vcn. dct2J-'77
HARDWARE, IRON AND STEEL,
Hubs, Spokes, Kims,
OAK, ASH AND HICKORY PLANK.
TIIKM A
luat 81, '70-tf
Tiio.vir.sox,
I'ortlantl, Oregon.
J. H. SHEPARD,
HOOT A XI) SHOE STOKE,
One door North of Ackerman Bros.
Boots and Shots made and repaired as cheap
' " cheapest. novl, 75 tf
MILLER, CHURCH & CO.
PAT THE HIGHEST PRICE FOR WHEAT,
At all times, at the
OREGON CITY MILLS,
inarw".011 h,nd PEK0 d FLOUK to sell, at
i ltea. J riiea desiring Feed must furnish
' novl2tf
A. C. WALLINC'S
A loucor Kook 15intlc ry
"ailJing, cor. of SUrk and Front Sts.,
ruTLAxn, ORKGO.Y.
P Ui1red .3CU:I) Ala BOUND TO ANT
"paprs ttr i ' Mu,lic Dxks, Magazines,
toowa to tii. t' ,nni every variety of style
MwjSi to. rder" tt0m novl.rtf"7
a)
CITY BREWERY.
i.ZZl0?. P"riae4 the above Brrwerv.
vtahea lo Inform th publla that thev are5ifejP
now prepartd to manufastui. a No lU
t OF LAGER BEER,
A good as can be obtain 4 anywhat-a la the State
Yr Melted and promptly filled.
m
A
WAHEXTAKK.
TO ALFRED TKNKYSON.
Poet 1 I come to toucli thy lance with mine :
Not as a knight, who on the listed field
Of touruey touched Mb adverwary's shield.
In token of defiance, but in sign
Of homage to the in&bttry, -which ia thine -In
English Hong; nor will I keep concealed.
And voiceless as a rivulet frost-congealed.
My admiration for thy versed vine.
Not of the howliug dervishes of sung.
Who craze the brain with their delirious dauce.
Art thou. O sweet historian of the heart !
Therefore to thee the laurel-leaves belong.
To thee our love and our allegiance.
For thy allegiance to the poet's art.
llKNitY W. Longfellow.
Atlantic for Ofcembrr.
TUODotX FLOWEKN.
There are some Uearta that like the loving vine.
Cling to unkindly rocks and ruined towers.
Spirits that suffer aud do not repina .-. .
Patient and weet as lwly troddun dowwa.
That from the passers' heel arise.
And bring back odorous breath instead of sighs.
But there arc other hearts that will net fel
The lonely love that haunts their eyes and ears ;
'I bat wound fond fatth with anger worse tha
steel.
And out of pity's spring draw idle tears.
Oh Nature, shall it ever be thy will
111 things with uood to mingle, good with ill?
"Why should the heavy fot of sorrow press
The willing heart of uncomplaining love
Meek charity that shrinks not from distress,
Gentleness, loth her tyraata to reprove?
Though virture weep forever and lament,
Will one hard heart turn to her and repent?
Why should the seed be broken that will bead,
Aud they that dry the tears in others' eyes
Feel their own anguish swelling without end.
Their Bummer darkened with the smoVe of sighs ?
nure, L.ove to some tair region or her own,
Will flee at last and leave us here alone.
Love woepeth alway weepeta for the past.
For woes that are, for woes that may batid;
Why should not bard ambition weep at last,
Kury and hatred, avarice and pride?
Fate whispers that so low is your poor lot.
They would be rebels; love rebelleth net.
FANCHETTE, THE GOAT OF BOTJ
X, AINVIXLIERS .
AN EPI.SODE OF THE SfEGE OF PARIS.
When the German army inclosed in
its iron grasp the most brilliant and
pleasure-lovinpr city of Europe, trans
forming m a moment its epicurean popu
lation into a people of heroea, the envi
rons once so car and beautiful had
experienced a chancre almost as great.
Most of the detached villas were deserted
or occupied by the enemy, and the vil
lages, whose reerular inhabitants had
either taken ref usre in Paris or lied to a
distance, werorepopulated by a singular
assemblage of individuals belonging to
all classes of society, and bound to
gether by tho tie of a common nation
auty, and the necessity of nndino; a
shelter and providing for their daily
wants.
Tho hamlet of Boulainvilliers, which
had been thus abandoned, had received
an entirely now colony, and its ueantifnl
aveime. carpeted with turf of the most
lovely green, had all tho appearances ot
a canip. As long as tho season would
iermit. cookiner was carried on in the
opeu air, and groups were constantly to
be seen surrounding tho fires and ex
changing accounts of their mutual mis
fortunes.
A painter of Fleurs, bearing the Eng
lish or rather Scotch name of MacHenry,
was among the refugees. lie had
brought with him from Colombos,
where he had before resided, a remark
ably beautiful white goat called Fan
chette. This creature, to which her
master was very much attached, iigures
in most of his pictures." Light and
graceful as a gazelle, she is represented
sometimes cropping delicately the green
branches of the hedgerows and bushes,
and contrasting well with tho snowy
wliiteisess of her skin.
Fanchetto was a universal favorite
and few there were at Boulainvilliers
who would not have deprived themselves
of a morsel of the bread sometimes so
hard to procure, that thoy might reserve
a mouthful for the goat, which, however,
tho saucy thing would only accept from
her particular friends.
The grace and rare intelligence of tho
animal frequently relieved the miseries
of tho siege. All were surprised at the
wonderful education her master had
succeeded in giving her. lie had even
taught her something of his art : and it
was really extraordinary to see the sen
siblo creature unsiiy employed in ar
ranging pebbles on the ground, so as to
form a rnde resemblance to a human
profile, often grotesque enough, but
still Biich as one occasionally sees on
human shoulders : and looking at her
work, one could not help thinking that
after all the lower animals are perhaps
not so inferior to us as we suppose.
The art with which Fanchatte selected
from a bunch of llowers each one that
was named to her was really marvellous
Hoses, wallflowers, tulips, camellias,
wero promptly chosen from the nuni
bor, and it was rare indeed that she
made the least mistake. Two centuries
ago they would have burned the poor
beast for a witch.
The exercise which she preferred to all
others consisted in catching on her
horns a series of brass rings whmh her
master threw up in the air. This she
did with tho greatest address ; and when
she had got a dozen or so encircling her
brow like a diadem, she would begin
jumping and galloping and shaking her
head to maKo them jingie, tin over ex
cited by their rough music, she would
end by dancing in tho most fantastio
stylo on her hind feet, till tired at length
with her exertions, 6ho would bound to
wards her master and throw the rings
at his feet.
Among those who had found refuge
in tke hamlet was a child of five years
old, called Marie, the daughter of a
peasant whose farm had been ' burnd
by the invaders. She was an object of
general interest in tho little colony on
account of her gentle manners, and the
sweet but suffering expression of her
pale infantine features. A year or two
previously she had been so severely bit
ten in the arm by a vicious dog that the
limb had to bo amputated, and her con
stitution had never recovered the shock.
Fanchette soon took a great fancy to the
litti girl ; and the doctor having ad
vised her to be fed as much as possible
on milk, MacHenry offered that of the
goat. It was beautiful to see the pleas
i ure with which the affectionate creature
took upon herself the office of nurse,
and the avidity with which the child
sucked in the grateful nourishment
which was giving her new life. Fan
chette became every day more and more
attached to Marie. She rarely left her,
except when wanted by her master for
some now study; and when it was ended,
and MacHenry set her at liberty, say
ing: "Now. be off to Marie." with what
joy the creature bounded away, and how
rejoiced was the little one to have again
by her side her darling Fanchette !
Nestling her head under the child's
hand, a world of loving things were in
terchanged in their mute caresses.
1 1 once hapj)ened that a lady having
in her hand a crown of artificial ivy
which she had nicked un somewhere.
probably the debris cf a school fete dur
ing happier times placed it on the head
of little Marie. Fanchette. risinsr ou
her hind legs, examined it with comi
cal curiosity ; and having made up her
mind on the subject, scampered off to
an old tree close by, around whose trunk
the real ivy twined in thick and glossy
wreaths, butted it with her horns, twist
ing it round them ; and tearing off long
trailing garlands. She then ran back
in triumph to throw her treasures at the
child's feet, saying clearly as if she had
the gift of speech : " .Look ! This is bet
ter than the coarse imitation thev have
decked vou with : this is the real
thing !"
Another davHho child was looking at
herself in a mirror, and Fanchette im
mediately began to do the same. The
expression of sadness and wonder in her
eyes seemed to say so plainly : "Why
are Marie and I so different? If I were
like her I could speak to her, and then
we could love each other still better !"
One evening Marie, who was sitting
by her mother1 side, began to fidget
and complain of an uneasy sensation in
her back. Her mother, busily engaged
with some work, and thinking the child
was only disposed to bo troublesome,
examined it slightly and told her to be
quiet ; but the poor little, thing con
tinued to complain, when the mother,
getting out of temper, gave her a sharp
slap, ianchette, who was present at
this scene, presented her horns in a
threatening attitude to tho woman, and
gently stroked the shoulders of her lit-
tlo friend with her foot. At the sight or
the dumb animal's eloquent appeal, the
woman began to relent, and calling the
child to her, examined more carefully
the state of things, when she found to
her horror, one of those large and poi
sonous caterpillrrs called in French
proeessionnaires, which had pamiuiiy ir
ritated the delicate skin of the child.
It was about this time that MacIIenry,
continuing his artistic labors in spite of
all the difficulties of the situation, re
solved on taking for the subject of a new
picture his goat Fanchette nursing the
little Marie, Fanchette lent herself with
her usual intelligence and docility to
his wishes ; and Marie was represented
lying among grass and flowera with her
four-footed friend bendincr over her.
This picture, which was afterwards re
garded as one of Maolienry s best works.
obtained the most signal success at the
Paris Exhibition of modern art the
truthfulness of the design, the freshness
of the coloring, and the grace of the
composition being equally striking.
liut these bright autumn days soon
passed away, and many may recollect
the bitter cold of the sad Christmas ol
that dismal winter. Poor little Marie
suffered so severely from it, that after a
vain attempt to recall some warmth by
lighting a tire of brushwood, tho only
fuel that could be procured, her mother,
as a last resource, put her on to her little
bed, in the hope that by heaping upon
her all tho clothing she could prooure,
the child might regain a little heat ; but
it was in vain; no heat came; and the
blood had almost ceased to circulate in
her frozen limbs. At this moment
Fanchette arrived, and without waiting
for an invitation sprang upon the bed.
It was in vain they tried to drive her
away ; she only clung the closer to her
nursling, and covering the child with
her body, soon restored her to warmth
and animation.
There was one among the teiaporary
inhabitants oi loulainviuiersfor whom
Fanchette entertained an unmitigated
aversion ; this was a knife-grinder of
tho name ol Alassicault. His appear
anco was certainly not calculated to pro
luce a favorable impression, for his
features were repulsive and his expres
- - - 1 " 1 1 . T , .
oiuu uiauyreeuuie. a. iow lorenead. a
scowling eye, and a short, thick-set
figure were the principal physical traits
oi this personage ; nor were tuey re
deemed by thoso of his moral character.
TT- 1 1 VI A A
lie uuu lur um constant companion a
largo ill-favored bull-dog with a spiked
collar, who seemed to share all the evil
instincts of his master. Every one
wondered now tne Kniie-grinder man
aged to feed this animal at a time when
it was so hard to nnd the merest neces
saries of life for human beings and
that too without ever seeming to do a
hand's turn of work ; for all day long
he was lounging about, and it was rare
indeed to hear the noise of his wheel
When any one alarmed at the threaten'
ing aspect of the brute who never
failed to growl and show his fangs when
orkr.rnn.ohed asked his master to call
liim off. Massicault used only to reply
with an ill-natured laugh ; "He has not
begun yet to eat such big morsels as
vou ; but there'sno saying what he may
do one of these days !
MacHenry was sorry that his goat par
v r tiA ireneral dislike to this man
He would have rather wished that she
should have tried by her winning ca
resses to soften his rugged nature and
bring him to love the gentle creature
that had gained all other hearts ; but as
we shall see in the sequel, things turned
out very differently.
rin n-na nf tlifi ln.sk fine davs of tkat
sad year, a crowd having gathered round
her while her master was amusing him
self by exhibiting her intelligence in
the selection of the fruit and flowers he
-named, in which she had acquitted her
self with her usual sagacity, MacHenry
bade her fetch an apple. There were
1
some still hanging on a tree in a neigh
boring garden ; but instead of running
off as usual to the well-known place,
she went right up to the knife grinder,
and pushing aside with, her paws the
skirts of his coat, displayed two pockets
stuffed with something, which the crowd,
amid shouts of laughter, declared to be
stolen apples. The artist tried to call
off his goat, and tho man drove heraway
with curses ; but two vigorous peasants
immediately laid hold of him, and in
sisted on seeing the contents of the sus
picious pockets ; which proved to be,
as all had supposed, apples stolen from
the tree in question. The discovery
only increased the rage of Massicault,
who swore with the most fearful oaths
that he kad never touched one of them,
and that the apples fAund in his posses
sion had been given ta Into by a friend.
Though none believed him, several, in
order to get rid of a disagreeable affair,
feigned to do so, and ho was finally let
off ; but many thought they had thus
got a clue to the authorship of several
robberies recently committed to the
prejudice of different members of the
little community.
This misadventure excited in the knife
grinder a violent hatred against Fan
chette, which was heartily shared by his
worthy companion, tho bull-dog. Tho
latter was an object of special terror to
poor little Marie. Fanchette seemed to
understand the fears of the child, and
whenever the .dog approached her she
would lower her horns, as if to protect
her nursling, and defy her enemy. These
demonstrations of valor were generally
successful, the dog slinking off with
glaring eyes and drooping tail. .
One day Fanchette nestled up close to
her master, putting her foot upon -Lis
arm, and having succeedod in gaining
his attention, ran off to a particular spot,
where she stopped to sniff the grass,
and then trotting back she renewed sev
eral times the same manoeuvre. Mac
Henry, - persuaded that something ex
traordinary must be the matter, rose ad
followed her. When she reached the
spot, putting aside, -like a terrier-dog,
the lose herbage with her feet, she dis
played to view a leather pocket-book
which the artist picked up and examined.
An instant sufficed to show that it be
longed to the knife-grinder, and its con
tents proved that this man was one of the
numerous spies the Germans had con
stantly and everywhere in their service.
He found besides in this pocket-book,
pushed under the covering, the picture
of a child, one of those common photo
graphs which have no other merit than
a certain resemblance.
The very day that the pocket-book
was found a frightful scene took place.
Little Marie was sitting on a low stool
eating a morsel of bread, which she was
sharing with Fanchette,' when the bull
dog chanced to pass. The animal stop
ped for a moment, and looked at her ;
then as if overcome by tho temptatioa,
he suddenly darted at her and snatched
at the bread. He was prevented, how
ever, by tho goat, and with a toss of her
horns she sent the ferocious beast sprawl
ing to some distance ; but he was only
stunned, not seriously hurt; andfmrions
at his repulse, he sprang upon tho poor
goat, seized her by the throat, and shook
her with rage. ' Marie uttered a pierc
ing shriek, and MacHenry, having got
hold of a stick, ran to the rescue. A
sharp blow on the head caused tho dog
to lose his crip of poor Fanchette, and
turn against his new enemy, seizing him
by the shoulder, but a peasant coming
to tho assistance of the artist, forced tho
dog again to let go; and limping off and
growling, he at last took refuge beside
his master, who all the while had been
an unmoved spectator of the scene.
Great was the coneral rmef at the
sight of poor Fanchette motionless on
the grass, bleeding profusely from the
wound in her throat : and strong the in
dignation excited by the ferocity of the
dog and the conduct of his brutal mas
ter. Many wero the threats muttered
against both ; and there is little doubt
that the dog at least would soon have
paid the penalty he deserved had Fan
chette's wound been mortal : but on ex
aminationit was found to be less serious
than it appeared, and her master's care
of her soon effected a complete cure
The inhabitants" of the hamlet, however,
resolved not to let slip the opportunity
ior getting rid of the obnoxious knife
grinder. This ill-favored individual
was received whenever he showed him
self with cries of "Be off, and quickly,
too, and be thankful we do not' throttlo
your wretch of a dog first." . - -
Unable to resist the general "storm of
indignation, the man and his worthy
companion were about to take their der
parture ; but they had hardly reached
the entrance to the village,' when . they
were met by a party bringing along
with them an orphan boy f about six
or seven years of age, whose parents
had been murdered some days previously
in one of the detached cottages of tho
neighborhood which some still ventured
to inhabit. The child, at the sight of
the Knife-grinder and his dog, tittered a
loud cry and covered his eyes with bis
hands. .. , . ..
" W hat is the matter, my' poor little
fellow ?" asked one of the-, by-standers.
At length he was able with difficulty to
reply, his words interrupted with deep
sobs; "That man 1 that dog ! It was
they that killed my mother 1 I - saw
it all from behind the curtain in which
I was hid." j - " . ' . ...
Every one looked in astonishment of
his neighbor, not knowing whether-to
believe the strange assertion of the
child ; When MacHenry produced . the
Eocket-book and informed thoso around
im of its contents. The child imme
diately cried out that it was his moth
er's; and bad any doubt remained it
would have been dispelled by looking
at the portrait that was contained in it,
for its resemblance to the -ipoor little
boy was striking. . - - - . - :
In presence of such proof, there could
be no hesitation, and two men -immediately
set off irk pursuit of the fugitive ;
but he had already got a considerable
advance, and fear lent 'him wings, so
that before they could reach him he had
gained the protection 5f the German
C0URT3SY OF BANCROFT LIBRARY,
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA,
outposts. He did not succeed, however,
in evading the fate he merited, for
shortly after the news arrived that the
wretched man had fallen into the hands
of a detachment of FrenchraHCsirffwrs,
and having been convicted of being
concerned in the burning of a barn was
immediately condemned and shot.
MacHenry adopted the orphan boy,
and never had cause to repent of his
generous action. " I have now two
children." he used trail v to sav: "for mv
gentle, intelligent Fanchette is almost
as dear to me as if she -were a human
creature." From Chambers' Journal.
How the Czar Confers Honors.
Two hundred . officers of all ranks
breakfast and dine daily at his table,
writes the, Loudwji Times' war correspon
dent in Bucharest, referring to the Czar.'
From the youngest to the oldest every
eye is fixed on him. Before the meal,
in the assembled circle, as the Czar ap
pears, it is seen one day that an aide-decamp
behind him carries a cushion with
crosses on it, and perhaps, half a dozen
sword knots of honor the riband of
St. George, orange and black to la
worn attached to the sword hilt. In
stantly expectaiton is at its height. The
Czar's voice calls the chosen name, all
make room for the envied man to pass.
he comes blushing and flushed, receives
the prize, bends low to kiss the imperial
hand, and retires bowing at every step,
a made man for life, the admired and
courted of all beholders. Then he has
to go through the usual embracing and
kissing on both cheeks of his friends.
Iho effect of tho system is like magic:
it is to concentrate all the power and
authority absolutely in one center. The
Czar is tho earthly providence of the
soldier and officer, as well - as the em
bodiment of the military power and
glory of his country. I have seen old
officers eo overcome with, the mark of
distinction that they went about' for ten !
minutes after like children, weeping, i
with the prized decoration in their
hands, showing it. around half dazed.
No system can be imagined more calcu
lated to stimulate individual efforts to
the utmost. Yet. with all this spurring.
there U something wanting. It is the
individuality and -tha. habit of, sponta
neous action, which only tho education
and modes of thought of a free people
can supply. Whether it be the long
standing taint of serfdom, whether it be
too much imperialism, the initiative is
wholly absent. You tell the Russian
what to do, and he will spring to it like
an obedient child. In a year it never
would have occurred to him to do it of
himself.
A Wonderful Sight.
" I never saw such a thing In my life."
said James Donohue, the night watch
man of the Central Park Museum. "On
Tuesday, Zip one of Barnum's monkeys,
fell suddenly and dangerously ill. He
was a great favorite with his companions
- their leader in mischief. Superinten
dent Conklin examined him, and said ho
would die. We got a bed of straw and
cotton for him, and left warm milk by
his side." ' .
Mr. Donohue meditated briefly, as
though picturing the scene in his mind7
and then said : "xes, in all my - experi
ence as a night watchman among beasts,
I never saw such a thing in my life. At
II o'clock I went to the cage. Usually
the monkeys at night sit huddled to
gether, sound asleep; but this time they
were all awake, sitting silent and move
less, watching Zip's dying agonies. Zip
lay in a corner, sobbing and moaning.
Jack had Zip's head resting on his bosom,
while Peto every now and then dipped
his paw in the milk and wet Zip's hps,
Wasn't that strange ?"
The reporter assented.
" But there's a stranger tiling about it
yet," Mr. Donnohue con tinned; "at mid
night Zip died. Then came what my
partner lleilly, and Barnum s man say
they never saw the like of. As Zip's
head fell limp in the arms of Jack, he
gave a low squeal, and Pete sprang t
his side. Pete looked at Zip, lifted up
one of his paws, tapped him gently on
his breast, put his ear to his heart, raised
his head, and then gave a shrill squeal.
Jack m answer dropped lip just as
naturally as a human being would at the
first intimation that the form he held
was dead. Pete was the first to recover
himself. Slowly he approached Zip, ex
amined him closely, raised him in his
arms, dropped him hard on tho floor of
the cai?e. and. as Zip did, not move,
nrTinr to the urmermost perch. Wasn't
that strange 1"
Tho reporter assented.
" Then sir," continued Mr. Donohue,
"came the most extraordinary thing ever
witnessed in the Park. The monkeys set
up the most piercing screams. The baby
monkeys pressed close to their mothers,
and the females close to the males. : All
chattered and chattered, and pointed to
poor Zip. Finally Pete and Jake, fol
lowed by all the others, sprang to the
bottom of tho cage. They wero all silent
now, moving slow,' and in form of a cir
cle they gradually came nearer and
nearer. Then hugging close, they stop
ped. All night long they remained
watching tho body, and I never saw a
wake that could beat that one, for earn
estness and sympathy."
After a pause, Mr. Donohne said,'
"He'll be stuffed." - -
"Who?" the reporter asked
"Zip, of course.
was the reply.
New York Sun.
Tire British tar is, as a rule, a staunch
supporter of the established church,
and has a lofty contempt for dissenters)
whieh occasionally shows itself in rather
an amusing fway. For example, on
board one of the ships of the Channel
fleet, not long since, one of the" petty
offleera. was telling off the men for
church, ion Sunday, and this is the way
he gave' the mot tCordrer "Rog'lars,
stand where you har; fanev religions
fall hout."
Hjens have an ambition similar to men
They all want to get on the higbes
roost.
A Youthful Queen Opens Parliament.
Sumner described Queen Victoria's
opening of parliament, in her youth, as
follows: The Queen entered, attended
by the great officers of state, with her
heavy crown on her head, the grea t guns
sounding and the -trumpet adding to
the glow of the scene.- She took her
seat with sufficient dignity, and in an
inaudible voice directed the commons
to be summoned. In the meantime all
eyes were directed to her. Her counte
nance was flushed,, her hands moved
on the golden arms of the throne, and
her fingers twitched in her gloves.
There she was a Queen; but a Queen's
nerve and heart, are those of a woman,
and she showed but little nervousness
and restlessness, which amply vindicat
ed her sympathy with us all., , And yet
she bore herself welVand manywhose
eyes "wero not so observing -85" yu know
mine are, did not note these pleasing
tokens. I was glad to see them, more
by far thanjif she had sat as if cut in ala
baster. The commons came in with a
thundering rush, their speaker at their
head. Her majesty then commenced
reading her speech, which had been
previously handed to her by the lord
chancellor. It was a quarter or a third
through before Bhe could get her voice
so that I could understand her. In the
paragraph about Belgium I first caught
all that she said, and every word of the
rest of her speech came to mo in as sil
very accents as I have ever heard. You
well know I had no disposition to ad
mire the Queen, or anvthing that pro
ceeds from her, but her'reading has con
quered my judgment. I was astonished
and delighted. Her voice was sweet
and finely modulated and she pronounc
ed every word slowly and distinctly.
with a just regard to its meaning. I
think I have never heard anything bet
ter read in my life than was her speech,
and I could but respond to Lord Fitz-
william s remark to mo when tho cere
mony was over, " How beautifully she
preforms." -
How to Wash Lacks. Now that lace
and muslin ruffles are universally worn,
the pleasure of the possessors is a lit
tle dashed by the knowledge that , the
pretty varieties will lose their freshness
and half , at least, of their beauty in the
wash, unless recourse be had to the ex
pensive skill of a French laundress.
But if they are washed at home after
the following manner, they may hold up
their heads with the best of the unwash
ed: Cover half a dozen wine, or porter
bottles with old stockings, sewed on to
fit as tightly as possible. On these
baste the solid laces, carefully catching
down every tiny loop in' the border,
The work is tedious but necessary.
When the lace is fastened, cover the
bottle in hot suds made of fine soap and
change the cooling suds to hot again
several times a day. Or, better still.
Eut the bottle in the boiler, and let it
oil two or three hours, by which time
the lace will be . quito clean. Set the
bottle in the air, and leave it till the lace
is nearly but not quite dry. Then rip
the lace off carefully, and press it in a
book for a few hours. It will come out
spotless, not too white, and with the al
most imperceptible stiffness which new
lace has. Even point lace emerges un
scathed from this process. With half a
dozen bottles much laoe can be cleaned
at once, and the lace can be tacked on
at old moments.
Smir-ED tiiLiKB. A Parisian caprice,
said to be due to Worth, is of returning
to striped silks. Thoso an inch wide are
especially in favor, such as a stripe of
black satin alternating with a stripe of
black gros grain, or else in contrasting
colors for bouse dresses, as old gold
satin striped with garnet, or black vel
vet, clair de lune with garnet, or pale
blue strips with gray, separated by
threads of cardinal red. A Worth cos
tume of inch-wide strips of black satin
and gros grain has a belted basque
with plain satin plastron edged with
thread lace, while the postilionjblack has
only a satin piping. The plain silk
sleeves are so tight as to need gathers
a 1 t 1 - 1 m
at tne eioow, and are Slashed across in
three places above the wrists to show
an inner cuff of the striped silk which
extends below the sleeve proper. The
skirt has three straight flowing back
breadths seen on the newest dresses.
trimmed simply with a knife-pleating
of silk three inches deep sewed to the
edge, not set upon it. Tho three front
gores are of plain silk, with striped
panels set down the front breadth, and
bound with satin. .
The Lovely Women Invited.
Spanish paper announces as having
tne approval ot tho Ministry at Mad
rid, a scheme for opening at the
Pans Exhibition a " competition
international beauty. All the lovely
women in the world are invited to send
photographs of their faces in front
new, and ia profile, and CI prizes o:
awards in money, .100 aecessista, am
200 honorable mentions are to be dealt
out by a jury composed of a male and
female for each nation represented. The
winner of the grand prize is to be invit
ed to the French Capital, and is to bo
carried in procession in a car drawn by
six Andal URlD ftr Aral)' rSnrcaa nf nur.
est breed, and the other successful com-
Icuvuta aic lj lhj an, iiuenv to join in
the procession. But as the Paris Dabrts
ask how is an international jury to de
cide, if the Chinese, Hottentots; Poly
nesian, etc., who have notions of female
loveliness which are not ours, send ex
hibits to do battle with our particu-.
lar ideal? At all events, the dilemma is
possible, as the proposition - is official.
A platform orator calls his lecture
" How to Gain Wealth." There are
several ways of accomplishing this ob
ject. One is to over-issue stock, an
other is to "raise" insurance crip; ' an
other is to get elected president of a
savings bank; and a fourth ia to charge
two hundred dollars a night for a twen
ty dollar lecture.
Josh Biixtnos says: " There ia no
man who needs so much watching az
the one who iz always, watching some
eno else."
Household Hints.
To PREVENT Prp.rnrKT tpau Hunr.
iko. Glaze the under crust with beaten
egg.
To Remove S
Cakpet. Scrub the spots with hot wa
ter and borax, using little soap; rinse
with clear water, and rnb dry with a
clean dry rag. "
Bread Marino. V
cake of yeast dissolved in three pints of
tune-warm water. This makes three
loaves of bread and one pan of rolls.
Our bread is excellent.
Cube fob Sleeplessness. Eat an
onion or two " previous to retiring at
night. Also a specifio for all diseases
of the kidney and bladder, if indulged
in freely for some time, where other
remedies have failed .
EOS DTSlrSTATBuKi" aln.ii 1 nLl
the moisture in it is evaporated; Iheu .
take as mueh as you can put on a dime,
about half an hour before eating. Three
or four davs probably will answer . bt
take it until cured.
Dark Steamed Puddino. To be
steamed two aud a half or threo hours.
One cupful molasses, one cupful sweet
milk, two oupfuls butter, four capfuls
flour, one teaspoonful soda three-quarters
cupful fruit, spice, t suit the
taste; to be eaten with flour sauce.
Boston Tea Cakes. One well-beat
en egg, two teaspoonful of sugar, one
cupful sweet milk, one teaspoonful
soda, dissolved in milk, two teaspoon -fuls
of eream of tartar sifted into the
dry flour, one teaspoonful of butter,
melted ; bake in small tins.
Celery. Celery can be kept fur a
week or longer by first rolling it up in
brown paper, then pin it up in a towel
and keep it in a dark place, and keep as
cool as possible. Before preparing it
for table, place it in a pan of cold wa
ter, and let it remain in for an hour. It
will make it crisp and cold.
Corn-moral Muffins. Three eggs
well beaten, whiles and yolk separate
ly; two heaping cupf uls of Indian-meal
and one of flour; sift into the flour, one
teaspoonful of soda and two of cream -
tarter; then one tablespoonful of lard,
melted, three cupf uls of milk, one tea
spoonful salt; bake well and thoroughly;
bake in rings or mall iatty-tins; bake
quickly and serve hot. "
Cornino Beef. For 100 pounds of
beef, take seven pounds salt, two pounds
sugar, two ouncas saltpetre, two ounces
pepper, two ounces soda; dissolve ia
two and a half gallons water;
boil, skim, and Jet cool; when a
scum rises after a few weeks, scald
the brine over, and by so doing and
keeping meat entirely covered -' with
brine, it will keep a year and more.
One Maine schoolmistress is thus de
scribed: "She is an imposing human
structure, not far from seven feet in
hight, and weighing not less, I think,
than 300 pounds. Her voice is fitting
to her sizn' and her strength is equal to
either. She is pleasing to behold- -very
handsome, the Anakim uould probably
call her." She was sent for onoe to re-
dnce a disorderly school to submission.
The boys, almost men in stature, had
ejected a teacher by force aud sniatihed
the desks. The account continues:
"She walked the floor, making her ex
ordium. Her ruler was like a weaver's
beam. She told the school why she
.was there, and serenely invited those
who designed to make trouble to begin
it at once. Not a creature stirred. Af
ter some weeks one young fellow of
twenty-one years, who considered him
self a beau, began to air his preten
sions rather obnoxiously. One stride,
and she was alongside the. dandy; one
grab, and the dandy was across her .
knee kicks, howls, and scratches were
efforts thrown- away; and amid the.
struggles of the-boys not to rend the air
with laughter and the hysterical shrieks
of the girls, Adolphus was disciplined
in a style and to a degree that he will
remember to bis-departing days.
A Fly vs. the Ear. Two curious de
signs are in. great favor for jewelry
and brooch purposes. One is the chick
en's claw. Such claws as these and
chicken hearts are totally distinct. The
ornament looks formidable on velvet
bows. It is also seen for dress-hooks.
Bats and mice are having a fine scram
ble over ladies' rings and shawl- ias.
But the unkiadest thing in this line is
the real fly. It is simply mounted on a
stud and worn in the ear. A lady may
take it on her head to put on one .only,
and a friend is sure to approach with a
compliment, fancying it is -real. He
will .soon wonder at the insect's perse
verance and endeavor to frighten it off,
when the wearer will laugh and say he
has been caught. It is ratker silly, bat
the old sticking plaster mouches had no
more sense in them. There are so many
obnoxious buzzing things in the world
that, whether two or six legged, it is a :
satisfaction to catch one now and then,
Pari Letter.
Fear of Death. It is said of the late
Dr. Arnold that, finding one of his
children had been greatly shocked and
overcome by the first sight of death,
he tenderly endeavored to remove the
feeling which had been awakened, and,
opening a Bible, pointed to the' words:
" Then cometh Simon Peter following
him and went into the sepulcher, and
seeth the linen clothes lie, and the nap
kin that was about his head, not lying
with the linen clothes, but wrapped to
gether in a place by itself. "Noth
ing," he said, "to his mind affords us
such comfort, when shrinking from the
outward accompaniments of death the
grave, the grave-clothes, thelonelines "
as the thought that all of these had been
around our Lord himself round him '
who died, and is now alive forever
more. 1 .
How to Gbt Thin. Take regularly
three times a day in a little water IS
drops of hydrate of potassium always
after meals and a little moderation in
eating will help. As. S.
i
r1'