WEEKLY EDITION. WIXySBOEO, S. C.. WEDNESDAY. NOVEMBER 16, 1861. ESTABLISHED IN 1848. ^
THE BLACK ROBE
BY "WILKIE COLLINS.
?AUTHOB OP?
"THE "WOMAN IN WHITE," "THE MOON
STONE," "AFTEBDAES," ';NO NAiTE,"
L. " J1AN AND WIFE," "THE LAW AND
|P* THE LADY," " THE NEW iUQDALEN,"
ETC., ETC.
CHAPTER XII.?(CONTINUED. )
Lr.-ly Loring's carnage was waiting at
fTto rnfranca of the street, with all tlie
children in the neighborhood assembled
to admire it. She impulsively forestalled
the servant in opening the carriage
door.
"Come in," she cried. "Oh, Stella,
yon don't know how you Lave frightened
me! Good heavens, you look frightened
yourself! From what wretches
havo I rescued you ? Take my smelling-bottle
and tell me all about it."
The fresh air and the reassuring presence
of her old friend revived Stella.
She was able to describe her interview
with the General's family, and to answer
the inevitable inquiries which the
narrative called forth. Lady Loring's
last question was the most important of
the series:
* " What are you going to do about Eomayn3
?"
"I am going to write to him the moment
we get home."
The answer seemed to alarm Lady
Loring.
" You won't betray ?" she said.
.. " TVhat do you mean ?"
" You won't let Piomayne discover
that I have told you about the duel Y"
"Certainly not. You shall see my
" letter before I send it to be forwarded."
Tranquillized so far, Lady Loring bethought
herself next of Major Fynd.
"Can we tell him what you have
done?" her ladyship asked,
r K "Of course we in tell him," Stella
replied. " l snail conceal notmng irom
^ LordLoring; and I shall beg your good
husband to write to the major. He need
only saj that I have made the necessary
inquiries, after being informed of the
circumstances by you, and that I have
communicated the jfavorable result to
5 Mr. Bomayne."
''It's easy enough to write the letter,
my dear. But it's not so easy to say
C what Major Hynd may think of you."
"Does it matter to me vnai ^uajor
Hynd thinks?"
Lady Loring looked at Stella with a
V malicious smile. " Are yon equally indifferent,"
she said, <;to what
Bomayne's opinion of your conduct may
be?"
Stella's color rose.
" Try to be serious, Adelaide, when you
speak to me of Eomayne," she answered;
gravely. "Ilis good c pinion of me is
^ the breath of my life."
An hour later the all-important letter
mu to Romayne was written. Stella scruv
" pulonsly informed him of all that had
happened? with two necessary omissions.
In the first place nothing was
^ said of th^ widow's reference to her
son's death, a. 1 of the effect produced
' ' by it on bis younger brother. The boy
was simply described as being of weak
intellect, and as requiring to be kept
Tinder competent control. In the second
. place Romayne was left to infer that
Jl ordinary motives of benevolence were
R ; the only motives, on his parr, known to
K Mis~ Eyrecourt.
y The letter ended in these lines:
E'; If I have taken ail undue liberty in
venturing, nnasked, to appear as your
representative, I can only plead that I
meant well. It seemed to me to be hard
. on these poor people, and not just to
* ' you in your absence to interpose any
needlecr"" ?ielavs in carrving out those
kind inW ^of -ours, which had, no
y doubt,.been p*. ?j considered beforehand.
In forming y?r? opinion of my
conduct, pray remember that I have
been careful rob to compromise you in
any way. You are known only to
TVfannm nc n cnmns^fiinTif.rp
% person "who offers to help her, and -who
wishes to give that help anonymously.
If, notwithstanding this, you disapprove
of what I have done, I must not conceal
U that it wil* grieve and humiliate me?I
Bp have beer, o eager to be of use to you,
when others appeared to hesitate. I
fee must find my consolation in remembering
that I have become acquainted with
one of the sweetest and noblest of
worker, and that I have helped to pre
serve -^uucieu t>uu iiuui uauyeia in
the future which I cannot presume to
estimate. You will complete what I
have only begun. Be forbearing and
kind to me if I have innocen tly offended
in this matter?and I shall graietully
remember the day when I took it on
myself to be Mr. Rom acre's almoner."
Lady Ijoring read these concluding
^ " sentences twice over.
| " I tliink the end of your letter vrill
rave its effect on him," she said.
I "If it brings me a kind letter in reLly,"
Stella answered, " it will have all
the effect I hope for."
i; " If it does anything, Lady Loring
>joined, " it will do more than that."
>" What more can it do?"
" My dear, it can bring him back to
^hesenbpe fnl words seemed rather to
. tie Stella than to erc?>urage Lvr.
j 1 BringIiiui bach to me ?" she repeatli
Oil, Adelaide, I wish I could
Si* <? ~ v>
Vlll'k SrS VU UU
k B Send the letter to the post," saiu
iaas ?pdv Loring, 14 ami we shall see."
BLKAPTER XTII.?FATHER BEXVTELl/s COREESFONDEXCT
j '
ihitr T other Benicell.
b "'Keverend and Dear Father?Whei
Br,vst Lad the honor of seeing yoti I re
K *ed your instructions to report, bj
f ] ar, the resnlt of my conversations
;eligion with Mr. Romayne.
P? As events have turned out it is
^ needless to occupy your. time by dwelling
at any length on this subject, ii
^ writing. Mr. Eomayne has been strong
ly impressed by the excellent book:
which J. have introduced to his notice
He raises certain objections which ]
liavc done my best to meet; and h*
? promises to consider my arguments wit!
his closest attention in the time to come
'
...
!
I am happier in the hope of restori:
: his mental tranquillity?in other ar
i worthier words, of effecting his conve
sion?than I can tell you in anj wok
of mine. I respect and admire, I mi
! almost say I Jove, Mr. Homayne.
" The details which are wanting ;
j this brief report of progress, I sha
have the privilege of personally rehitk
to you. Mr. Eomayne no longer desiri
i to conceal himself from his friends. E
received a letter this morning whic
: has changed all his plans, and h;
I decided him on immediately returnii
to London. I am not acquainted wit
i fltA Ipffpr nr with tT
I name of tho writer, but I am please<
for Mr. Romayne's sake, to see that tl
reading of it has made him happy.
"By to-morrow evening I hope 1
i present my respects to you."
n.
i
I Mr. Biti alee to Father Heme ell.
"Sib?The inquiries which I ha^
| instituted, at your request, have prove
i successful in one respect.
"I am in a position to tell you thj
| events in Mr. "Winterfield's life ha^
i Tinnnrsftnn.il>!v fionnnrted Iiim with tl
! young lady named Miss Stella Eyr<
; court.
I " The attendant circumstances, hot
| ever, are not so easy to discover. Judg
I ing by the careful report ~f the perso
| whom I employ there mil *t have bee
i serious reasons, in this cas , for keepin
i facts secret and witnesses out of tL
; way. I mention this not to discourag
| you, but to prepare you for delays tha
; may occur on our way to disc overy.
i " Be pleased to preserve your conf
| dence in me, and give me time?and
j answer for tue result.
THE END OF THE FEuST BOOS.
BOOK THE SECOXD.
CHAPTER I.?THE PICNIC DANCE.
i A fine spring, after a winter of ui
! usual severity, promised well for th
! prospects of tlie London season.
Among the social entertainments c
i the time general curiosity was excite
: in the little sphere, which absurdl
I dpsnrihps itself nndpr tliA l>i<r namA r
! society, by tlie announcement of a part
| to be given by Lady Loring, bearin
| tlie quaint title of a picnic dance. Th
| invitations were issued at an unusuall
J early liour, and it was understood ths
j nothing so solid and so commonplace a
I the customary supper was to be offere
! to the guests. In a word, Lady Loi
| ing's ball was designed as a bol
i protest against late hours and heav
| midnight meals. The younger peopl
j were all in favor c.f the proposed reforn
! Their elders declined to cdve an opinio
beforehand.
In the small inner cir .e of Lad
; Loring's most intimate fi-.ends it wa
whispered that an innovation in th
matter of refreshments was contemplate
which wonld put the tolerant principle
of the guests to a severe test. Mis
y3Zvtman, the housekeeper, politel
! threatening retirement -,n a sma]
j annuitv, since the memorable affair c
j the oyster omelette, decided on carrvin
! out her design when she heard tha
j there was to be no supper. " My at
! tachment to the family can bear a grea
j deal," she said. "But when Lad
Loring deliberately gives a ball, witl
| out a supper, I must hide my hea
; somewhere?and it had better be out c
j the house!" Taking Miss Notman s
| representative of a class, the receptio
: of the coming experiment looked, t
j say the least of it, doubtful.
On the appointed evening the guesl
made one agreeable discovery whe
they entered the reception rooms?the
were perfectly free to amuse themselv*
as they liked.
The drawing-rooms were given up f
dancing, the picture gallery was devote
to chamber music. Chess-players an
card-players found remote and qui*
rooms especially prepared for then
People who cared for nothing but tall
ing were accommodated to perfection i
a sphere of their own. And lovers (i
: earnest or not in earnest discoverec
in a dimly-lit conservatory with man
recesses, that ideal of discreet retir<
ment which combines solitude and S(
- - i .1? ?
| uuuw vi?c iwx.
But the ordering of the refreshmenl
failed, as had been foreseen, to share i
the approval conferred on the arrang<
mcnt of the r * The first irnpre;
j sion was t - ->le. Lady Lorinj
I however. jugli of human natui
t.o leave 1 to two potent alliesexperience
and time.
Excepting iho conservatory, tb
astonished guests cculd go nowhei
without discovering tables prettil
decorated with flowers, and bearin
! 1
hundreds of little pure white chin
plates, loaded with nothing but sand
wiches. All varieties of opinion wei
consulted. People of ordinary tastes
who liked to know what they were ea1
ing, could choose conventional beef c
ham, incased in thin slices of bread c
a delicate flavor quite new to then;
Other persons, less easily pleased, vrei
tempted by sandwiches of pate de foi
gras, and by exquisite combinations c
chicken and truffles, reduced to
! creaciy pulp Thich hung to the brea
! like butter. Foreigners, making exper
J ments, and not averse to garlic, discov
j ered the finest sausages of Germany an
\ Italy transformed into English sane
! n*i/?1ioa and sardinf
appeared in tlie same unexpected wa
to men who desire to create an artifici:
thirst ? after Laving Srsi, asce:
tained that the champagne w?
! something to be fondly remen
j bered and regretted, at oth<
i parties, to the end of the season. T1
I hospitable profusion of the refreshment
j was all-pervading and inexhaustibL
! "Wherever the guests might be, or ho^
i ever they -were amnsing themselve
j there were the pretty little white plat*
I perpetually tempting them. Peop
! eat as they had never eat before, ar
i the inveterate English prejudice again:
1 j anything new was conquered at las
_ Universal opinion declared the picn:
j dance to be an admirable idea, perfect
' I carried out.
_ ! Many of the gnests paid their hoste
the compliment of arriving at the ear
: ? a- -3 *- xi.
| nour meiuicnsa iu uiu iu>*tatiuu
1 i One of then was Major Hynd. La<
i | Lcri^g took Iier first opportunity
. ; speaking to liim apart.
: ! "I hear you were a little ancnw," s:
I * " .
i i said, "when you were told that Mi
1 Eyrecourt bad taken your inquiries o
. ' of your hands."
is "I thought it rather a bold proceedid
ing, Lady Loring," the major replied
r- " But as the General's widow turned 1
Is out to be a lady, in the best sense of the j 1
iv word, Miss Eyi ecourt's romantic adven-i
ture has justified itself. I wouldn't re- j 1
commend her to run the same risk a ' ]
U second time." '
' 3 " I suppose you know what Iiomayne ^
ss thinks of it ?" * " 1
"Not yet. I have been too busy to
call on him since I have been in town. '
13 Pardon me, Lady Loring, who is that | !
beautiful creature in the pale yellow
dress ? Surely, I have seen her some10
, *
where before?" j
' "Tlinf liPrmHfnl pwnhirp moinr io
16 the bold voting lady ox whoso conduct |
you don't approve." i .
,0 " Miss Eyrecourt?
"Yes."
" I retract everything I said!" cried
3
the major, quite shamelessly. " Such
e a woman as that may do anything. She
:d is looking this way. Pray introduce [
? _?? j
me.
it The major was introduced, and Lady
re Loring returned to her guests,
to " I think we have met before, Major
> Hynd," said Stella.
Her voice supplied the missing link
in the major's memory of events. Ee- \
memboring how she had looked at Eo3
n mayne on the deck of tho steamboat, he (
n becau dimlv to understand Miss Evre- ,
I
o court's otlicrwi.se incomprehensible
16 anxiety to "bo of use to the General's
family 1
"It was on the passage from Bou.
]
logne to Folkestone, anil my friend was
1_ with me. You and he have no doubt
* met since that time " He jmt the
question as a mere formality. The unexpressed
thought in him was : " Another
of them in love with Iiomayne ;
and nothing, as usual, likely to come of
l- it" i
" I hope you have forgiven mo foi
going to Camp's Kill in your place,"
? said Stella.
)f
" "I ought to be grateful to you," the
major rejoined. " No time has ^been
^ lost in relieving these poor people, and j
y your powers of pursuasion have sue- j
ceeded where mine might have failed. ^
^ Ua o T? atv\ Ia c r\r\ rv> ca! f
g 11CIO XlV/iUbtJUU UtCU LV Ci-L^JLLX i_l.i.lXi.0^i.Jk j j
v since his return to London ?
"No. He desires to remain unknown, ^
ig and he is kindly content, for the pres<1
ent, to be represented by me." j
r. "For the present ?" Major Hynd red
peated.
y A faint flush passed over her delicate f
e complexion. "I have succeeded, she ^
i. resumed, " in inducing Madam Mariln
lac to accept the help, offered through g
me, to her son. The poor creature is j
7 safe, under kind superintendence, in a .
s private asylum. So far, I can do no
e more." '
^ " Will the mother accept nothing?" "
!S "Nothing, either for herself or her
,s daughter, s^Jlong as they can vork. I .
y 4. i ^
v;auiiwu ten u 11 v?? auu
L beautifully she speaks cf her hard lot. ?
1 But her health may give way- -i<i>d it is
? possible, before long, that I may leave r
1 London." She paused; the flush deep- *
. ened on her face. " The failure of the k
iD r
mother's health may happen lii rnj
^ absence," she continued, " and Mr.
Bomayne will ask you to look after the 1
, famih*, from time to time, while I am 1
)f
awav.
is ,
u "I will do it with pleasure, Miss
;o Eyrecourt. Is Bomayne likely to be
here to-night?"
CM nTXOTT i
g OLLtf amiitJU auu iuuacu a, > a,j .
n The major's curiosity was excited-he
<y looked in the same direction. There
js was Eomayne, entering the room, to
answer for himself. ?
;o What was the attraction which drew J
d the unsocial student to an evening j
d party? Major Hynd's eyes were on the s
it watch. When liomayne and Stella 8
1- shook hands the attraction stood self- I
t
revealed to him in Miss Eyrecourt. s
^ Recalling the momentary confusion r
n which she had betrayed when she spoke e
of possibly leaving London, and of *
J Eomayne's plans for supplying her 1
place as his almoner, the major, with c
> miiitary impatience of delays, jumped
to a conclusion. "I was wrong,'' he c
thought, "my impenetrable friend is 1
n touched in the right place at last. When {
me spiencuu. creature iu vexruw leaves j
5* London, the name on her luggage will c
>* be Mrs. Romavne."
f* ?
" You are looking quite another man, j;
Romayne!" he said, mischievously, \
"since we met last." i
8 . T
Stella moved gently away, leaving 1
them to talk freely. Romayne took no
^ advantage of the circumstance to admit
? his old friend to his confidence. Whata
ever relations might really exist between
. Miss Evrecourt and himself were evidently
kept secret thus far. "My
health has been a little better lately,"
(r was the only reply he made.
^ The major dropped his voice to a
whisper.
,e " Have yon not had any return "
he began.
Romayne stopped him there.
"I don't want mv infirmities made
a
^ public." he whiskered back irritably. (
a j * - 1
"Look at the people all round us! i
"When I tell you I have be en better
(l lately, you ought to know what it j
means." ?
;3 " Any discoverable reason for the im- \
,y provement?" persisted the major, still ?
ij bent on getting evidence in support of
r. bis own private conclusions. j
ts j "None!'' Roniayne answered,sharply. <
i- .But Major nd was not to be dis- 1
5r couraged by sharp replies. 1
ie j "Miss Evreeourt and I hare been r
is recalling our first meeting on board the : (
a. steamboat," ho went on. "Do yon ; ]
7- reniember how indifferent von were to 11
i ;.
s, that beautiful person when I asked you ! '
is if you knew her? I'm glad to see that!
le you show better taste to-night. I wish I 11
l<3 knew her well enough to shake Lands i
st j as yon did." 1
t. I "Hvnd! "When a young man talks !
ic nonsense Lis youth is his excuse. At ] j
ly your timo of life you have passed the j ]
excusable age?even in the estimation i i
ss of your friends." j 1
ly With .those words Iiomayne turned j
ts. away. The incorrigible major instantly ;
lv met the reproof inflicted on him with s :
of smart answer. j
|?
" Iiemember," he said, " that I was the i 3
be first of your friends to wish you happi- j5
S3 ness." He, too, turned awav?in the ,
, J
direction of the champagne and sand- 1
wiches. f
"Meanwhile Stella had discovered
Penrose, lost in the brilliant assemblage
of guests, standing alone in a
corner. It was enough for her that
Romayne's secretary was also Romayne's s
Eriend. Passing by titled and celebrated
personages, all anxious to speak to her, p
she joined the shy, .nervous, sad-looking t
little man, and did all she could to set t'
him at his ease.
" I am afraid, Mr. Penrose, this is not j
i very attractive scene to you. Having t'
=aid those kind words, she oaused. s.
Penrose was looking at her confusedly, c
but with an expression of interest h
nrhich was new to her experience of ?
bim. "Has Eomajne told him?" she ^
wondered inwardly. ^
" It is a very beautiful scene, Miss t<
Eyrecourt," ho said, in his low, quiet
tones. ' ?
"Did you come here with Mr. Kocnayne?"
she asked. ! n
"Yes. It was by his advice thatllp
iccepted the invitation with which i 5
Lady Loring has honored me. I am | a
sadly out of place in such an assembly f<
is this, but I would make far greater a
sacrifices to please Mr. Romayne." ^
She smiled kindlv. Attachment so ^
irtlessl;? devoted to the man she loved c
pleased aud touched her. In her anx- ^
iety to discover a subject which might ^
interest him she overcame her antipathy ^
bo the spiritual director of the house- 3
bold. . " ti
" Is Father B enroll coming to us to- to
aightr" she inquired. ~
" Ho will certainly be here, Miss g.
Eyrecouri, if lie can get back to Lon- r<
Ion in time." S]
"Has he beei long away?" ^
" Nearlv a week." ^
" K
Not knowing what else to say, she
still paid Penr. se the compliment of b
feigning an interest in Father Bemvell. E
" Has he a long journey to mako in J,
returning to London?" she asked. ^
"Yes?all the way from Devonshire." t(
ctT? O T\ 1. _OI? V
--xruiu oouin jL/evoiisuii-e.'' u
"No. North Devonshire?Olovelly.' ^
The smile suddenly left her face. She ?
proceeded composedly, but without c,
juite concealing the effort that it cos! j h:
ler, or the anxiety with which she n:
vaited for the reply, to her next qnes- ^
;ion.
" I know something of the neighbor- S(
lood of Clovelly," she said. "I^ondei t<
vhether Father Benwell is visiting auj 11
;riends of mine there?"
" I am not able to say, Miss Eyre:ourt.
The reverend father's letters are h
orwarded to the hotel?I know no more i*
hau that." ^
"With a gentle inclination of her head Q.
;he turned toward the other guests, p
ooked back, and, with a last little cour d
eous attention offered to him, said: "If r<
ou like mnsic, Mr. Penrose, I advise ^
ou go to the picture-gallery. They tl
ire going to play a quartet by Mozart." S
Penrose thanked her, noticing tha" ^
ler voice and manner had become
itrangely subdued. She made her way ^
>ack to the room in which the hostess Ji
eceived her guests. Lady Loring was ft
or a moment alone, resting on a sofa. *
Stella stooped over her and spoke in
:autiously-lowered tone3 : | Vl
"If Father Benwell comes here to- j t]
light," she said, " try to find out what j o:
te has been doing at Cloveily." ^
"Clovelly?" Lady Loring repeated. ! w
'Is that the village near Winterfield's i f<
iouce ?" I tl
" Yes." I E
(To be Continued.) | P
! P
t(
Pet Birds. w
o;
Pretty Polly is always a favorite. The ^
jray bird is the most docile and intelli- g"
^ent, and the best talker, as well as the ^
argest?measuring from ten to twelve a
nches in length. The bill is black, o:
trong and much hooked, and the orbit ^
md the space between them is covered
rith a bald and white skin. The entire y(
)ody is of a Combined pearl-gray and g
;late color, and the feathers of the head,
leek and under part of the body are w
idged with a grayish white. The toes a;
.re gray, tinged with red, and the tail ai
s of a deep, light scarlet. The gray f
)arrot is healthy and long lived, sixty a]
>r seventy years being the average. 0]
The Green Parrot, from the regions ^
>f the Amazon, South America, is ^
learly as large as the gray bird; the
iravni 1 inor nnlrvr nf it.fi nlirmP-trA is hril- >..
iant greeD, but the back and under I c,
>arts are tinted yellow. The fore part! ^
)f the head is of a blue tint, and the ; S1
hroat feathers are edged with a bluish a]
jreen. This parrot talks well. A green s,
>arrot of an inferior kind comes from ^
[Vest Indies. The pinion feathers are ^
ed and bine, and the head yellowish
ed. b
Parraketts are smaller birds, and their ^
>rominent Deeuliaritv is the length of i.
he tail, generally exceeding that of the s.
>ody. The yellow-billed Parrakeet-, r|
rom Tasmania, is hardy and well p
idapted for a caged life. The Rose-bill ^
Parrakeet, from Australia and Tasmania, ^
s one of the most beautiful birds of the '
Parrot family. Including the fine tail, ^
f. moQSTirpa aVinnfc thirteen inofioa
Che head, sides of the face, back of the g.
leek, and breast, are of a glowing scar- get,
and a scarlet band passes over the -r
ihonlders; the upper part of the throat ^
s of a pure white; the feathers of the 0
jack are black-green. In the wings ^
ilac color is mixed with black. The ^
ower part of the breast is yellow, u
:hanging into light green on the abdo- C]
nen. The Ground, Ringed (the latter
vith a very long tail) and Grass Parra- ^
ceetf, are also very pretty birds. Lit- ^
le Love Birds, so named from the -j
ilfectionate manner in which a pair sit ^
rCgether, are pretty little creatures, v
scarcely six inches long.
Cockatoos come from the Eastern a;
Archipelago and Australia. They are 'Q
argeand powerful birds, and the crest, rj
;omposed of a number of feathers which
ie along the necK, except when the bird ^
s angry, and then they are erec'ed, and
jpened and closed quickly like a fan. j
rhe great "White and Silver crested j
Dockatoos are the best known in Eng- "
.and. Most of these birds can be
;aught to utter simple words and
phrases.
The magnificent Macaws, -with their j
splendid bine and yellow plumage, are '
re-ell known. ^
Bread and milk is the staple food of ^
ill birds of the Parrot kind. Lay a ^
slice of stale bread in a pan, and soak
it in warm water for a quarter of an
iiour, and then pour enough scalding ^
milk on it to moisten it, without making ^
it pappy. Cleanliness of the cage, and ^
plenty of dry gravel are essential to the
health of the bird. j.
fc
Young women don't monopolize all t
the folly. Professor Da Costa, of Phila- t
ielphia, has Lad under his care a young v
mafi suffering from the effects of taking t
irsenic to beauti'y his complexion. He v
Svill probably never fully recover the t
free use of his i?gs, which were par- t
tially paralyzed and wasted by the flow e
self-poisoning. : I
HOW THE PRESIDENTS DIED.
'he Last Honrs ot the President* of the
United .State*.
Tlie death of General Garfield amid
uch tragic and pathetic circumstances
say render interesting some brief and
detached notes npon the subject of the
assing from life of his predecessors in
he Presidential chair and the scenes atendinff
their inhumation.
"Washington took oold during a fiveoui-a'
ride over his plantation on the
2th of December, 1799, during the last
wo hours of 'which he was exposed to a !
harp storm of snow, hail and rain. The
old declared itself next evening, when
e was very hoarse, but he made light
f it. "I never take anything for a cold,"
e said; "let it go f.s it came." At two
ext morning he awakened his wife, but
rould not let her rise to send for a^doc
or lest slie siioum take coia. vvnen \
be secretary was called at daybreak he !
Dund "Washington breathing with difcnltv
and hardly able to utter a word
itelligibly. Doctors were sent for, and
lean while he was bled and a gargle was
repared, but on attempting to use it he
ras convulsed and nearly suffocated,
'he doctor*' remedies were not of more
vail, and ai 4:30 he sent his wife
Di' his two wills, haif.'her destroy one
nd intrusted the
iving h^r instroeti^p^nSyHSreflSrer
apers and accounted
nd servant he* wasl^as COT^eous ana
onsiderate as ever; bidding the latter,
ho had been in the room standing by
tie bed nearly all day, sit.^own. Between
five and six, wnenl'&s^isted to sit
p, "I feel I am going," He said to" the
- -J- ciT iU 1. ~ r ?
uuturb j "x LUtuxa. jvu iujl vuui at tenions,
but I pray yon to tase no more
rouble about me ; let me go oil quietly
-I cannot last long." Further remeies
tried without avail in the
vening. "About ten," writes his sectary,
"hb made several attempts to j
peak to me before &e could efiect it.
.t length he said : 'I am jast going; |
? J/ A..*\^l *T A /j <^/V T* /\4" 1A+ I
li\v ine UCCCUWJ uu^icu,aixu. uv iivtxco
iy body be put intojthe vault in less
lan three days after I ^am dead.' I
owed assent, for Leonid not speak,
[e then looked at me and said: 'Do
ou understand me?" I replied: 'Yes.'
lis well,' said he. About ten. minutes
efore he expired (which was between
in and eleven o'clock) his breathing
eeame easier. He lay quietly; he witlirew
his hand from mine and felt his
wn pulse. I saw. his countenance
kcmoro onrl or>nlrA +r> TYr flrailr whn
ime to the bedside. The General's
and fell from liis wrist; I took it in
line and pressed it to my bosom. Dr.
raik put his hands over his eyes, and
e expired without afccruggle or a sigh."
he body was buried on the 18th, a
jhooner being stationed off Alexandria
) fire minute-guns while the procession
toved from the house to the vault. The
oops, horse and foot, led the way;
len came four of the clergy; then
Washington's horse with his .saddle,
olsters and pistols, led by two grooms
i black; then the body borne by the
tee Masons and officers, followed by
le family and several old friends,
mrintr +.ViPm T)r firaiV and some of the
'airfares; ti c corporation of Alexanria.
At the tomb the Rev. Mr. Davis
iad the funeral service and delivered
brief address, after which the Free
[asons performed their ceremonies and
le body -was deposited in the vault,
nch -were the death and burial of the
rst and greatest of the Presidents.
Tho second and third Presidents died
a the semi-centennary of American in
ependence, John A.', iras and Thomas
efferson, the latter the writer and the
>rmer the orator of the Congress of
77G ; the one the author of the Declaition
of Independence, and the other
pillar of its support and its ablest ad
2. . ? J3 -i - r ,i ? A
Dcaie anu ueieuuer. aiuiuu an mucr-one
preserved a remarkable activity
E mind, though hi3 sight was impaired
) that he could neither read nor write,
y April, 1826, it was evident that he
as failing, though his neighbors hoped
)ndly that he would be able to attend
le local celebration of Independence
ay. When, however, it became aparent
that they would not have him in
ave/vn or <?Avvnt?t3 t.VlA ni"ft.
>r to visit liim and communicate their
ishes for some last word or message
f cheer. On Friday, the 30th of June,
ie delegate called on Mr. Adams at
a. m., and "spent a few minutes with
im in conversation, and took from him
toast to be presented on the Fourth
f July as coming from him. I should
ave liked a longer one, bnt, as it is,
lis will be acceptable. 'I will give
on,'said he, 'Independence Forever!'
ie was asked if he would not add anyling
to it, and he replied: 'Not a
ord.'" The visitor was not too early,
5 symptoms of debility became more
id more alarming. There was no sufiring,
but respiration became more
ad more difficult, till on the morning
E the Fourth Dr. Holbrook predicted
lat his patient would not last beyond
inset. "Unceasing shouts" greeted
ie toast offered at the Quincy banquet,
ut as the guests left the hall news
line of the aeatn 01 its autnor. ne
ad passed away calmly and wichout
lfiering at the sunset of that brilliant
ad memorable day. "Ihomas JefFer)n
still survives I" were the last words
e uttered, so far as could be gathered
om his failing articulation.
Thomas Jefferson had died a few hours
efore him. On the 24th of Jane he
rote: "All eyes are opened or opening
> the rights of mail. The general
pread of the light of science has aliadv
laid open to every view the palable
truth, that the mass of mankind
ave not been born with saddles on their
acks, nor a favored few booted and
purred, ready to ride them legitimately
y the grace of God." He grew steady
weaker until he lay upon his bed,
jrene, painless, cheerful, in full possesion
of his reason, but helpless and dyig.
During the third of July he dozed
our after hour, under the influence of
piates, rousing occasionally and utter1
g a few words, conscious that his end
as near, but fervently desiring to live
ntil the day he had assisted to conserate
fifty years before. At eleven at
ight he whispered to Mr. N. P. Trist,
is grandchild's husband, who sat by
ie bed : "This is the Fourth ?"' Mr.
'rist remained silent, being unwilling
> say "Not yet!" "This is the Fourth ?"
gain whispered Jefferson, and when
ie watcher nodded, "Ah!" h8 sighed
nd sunk into sleep with an expression
f satisfaction upon his countenance,
'hey thought him dying, but he linered
until 12.40 in the afternoon, ccasionally
indicating a desire by words
r looks. "I resign my soul to God,
nd my daughter to my country," is a
opular version of his latest utterances.
Madison left his mountain residence
>f Montpelier but once after his retirelent
in 1S17?to attend the Constituional
Convention of 1829. He died
une 28, 1S36, the last survivor of the
igners of the Constitution. During
:is last iilness, when the family and
he doctor were at dinner, his voice
ras heard feebly from the adjoining
hamber: "Doctor, are you pushing
bout tne bottles? uo your cuty
loctor, or I must cashier you.-' Monroe
ras the third President to die on Independence
day; he passed away in this
ity in 1831 at the residence of his sonn-Iaw,
Samuel L. Gouverneur. 111lealth
had compelled him to resign
he Presidency of the Virginia Coustintional
Convention. His remains
. ere deposited with public honors in
he Marble Cemetery on Second Street,
rhere they reposed until 185S, when
hey were removed under the escort of
he Seventh Regiment, then oomaandea
by Colonel Abram Duryee, to
lolly wood Cemetery at Richmond, Va.,
I the occasion being memorable for th<
enthusiastic warmth with which Nev*
York's citizen soldiers were received bj
their Southern brethren. John Qaincj
Adams, "the old man eloquent," was
found by death where he could have
wished its approach, in the halls ol
Congress. On Monday, February 21,
1S48, he ascended the steps of the
Capitol with his accustomed alacritj
and took his place in the House.
While petitions were being presented,
suddenly there was a cry of "Mr.
A .1 r, ^ rviawV\n?-o +/v
n.aa.ui3 : ituu a iusu ui uv
wards bis seat. He was rising with s
number of petitions in his hand wher
he w,as struck with apoplexy and sank
down, catching at his desk and falling
into the arms of the member whc
sprang across the aisle to his assistance,
He was carried into the rotunda, ther
into the Speaker's room. He attempted
to speak, but his voice was a mere murmur,
low and indistinct, though Mr,
Ashmun, who was placing him on the
sofa, thought he said : '-Last of earthcontent,"
intending to say: "This is
xi. _ t - ? i- *1- T " TT/>
me iasr. 01 eari.ii?jl am uuutcav.
became insensible at ooce, and lingered,
faintly breathing, till 10 o'clock or
the morning of the 23d, when he expired
in the presence of the officers oi
the House. Mr. Adams' body was re"fiozs^Qia
funeral, and after lying in state ic
Faneuil Hall, was buried at Quincy.
Jaokson died on Sunday, Jane 8,1845,
at the Hermitage. For months he had
been suffering from disease of the lungs,
dropsy and diarrhoea, enduring the
pains of his martyrdom with sublime
patience. Almost to tho last he was
pestered by office-seekers and hero-worshipers.
His last writing was a statement
to help his old friend and fellowsoldier.
Robert Armstrong, to a pension.
On the 30th of May lie gave Mr. Healy
the last sitting for the portrait designed
for Lonis Phillippe and with his elaborate
courtesy congratulated the artist.
Nightly he kissed and blessed each
member of his family, bidding each a
farewell as if for the last time; then
offered earnest prayer for them and
for his country. His Bible was
always near him. On the Friday
he gave directions concerning his funeral,
and dictated a letter, his last, to the
President, bidding him ?cfc promptly
and resolutely in the affairs of Texas
and Oregon. On the morning of his
death, a brilliant, hot day, he bade an
affectionate farewell to his family,
friends and servants, whom he addressed
with calmness, strength and even
animation, on the subject of religion,
concluding, "I hope and trust to meet
you all in Heaven, both white and black
?both white and black," words he revxArtlft/l
? 4-Via o a/\<\r? oi< fl-i/a
pcaucu. a^auj. iu tug ftutmuuu MO
was coming on. blearing the servants
on the piazza w<=" "_ig, he spoke again :
" What is the matter with my dear children?
Havel alarmed you? Oh, do
not cry! Be good children, and we will
meet in Heaven." At 6 he died, without
a struggle or a pang. He was
buried on Tuesday, beside the wife he
had loved so fondly. Three thousand
people were present at the serivces conducted
upon the portico by Dr. Edgar.
After a prayer, Jackson's favorite psalm
was sung, "Why should we start and
fear to die ?" a sermon was preached
from the text, "These are they which
came ont of great tribulation," and the
serviae concluded with a hymn.
Martin Van Buren died at Kinderhook,
in. 1., at 2 a. ii., July hi, icbz, oi astnma
that developed into a painful catarrhal
affection of the throat and lnngs.
For a year his health had been failing,
and during the last week of his life his
mind was wandering, though in his lucid
intervals he manifested deep interest
in public affairs. One of his last
distinct utterances was to his clergyman,
"There is but one reliance." He was
buried on Monday, the 28th, a solitary
fln/v flTT-in/r of koTf-Tnoof. and Vinf.Al
*-"*6 J-v?v.
and two other buildings being festooned
with black. Only one organization
was at tlio funeral?the Kinderhork
Fire Company. Twelve old residents
acted as pall-bearers. Harrison died
April 4, 1841. He rode on horseback
to his inauguration and stood bareheaded
and without an overcoat to delivei
his inaugural, contracted pneumonia
aggravated by subsequent imprudences
in exposing himself to the weather oi
that bleak spring. His last words
heard by Dr. Wortliington, were: ''Sir,
I wish you to understand the true principles
of the Government. I wish them
carried out. I ask nothing more!" A
procession two miles in length accompanied
the body, drawn on a funeral-cax
by sis white horses, to its temporary rest
ing-piace in tne congressional ourymgground,
-where the Episcopal service
was conducted by Dr. Haveiey. Tylei
was taken ill on Sunday, January 12,
1S65, while at breakfast at the Ballard
House, Richmond, and died at midnight
of tho 17th. "Let me give you some
stimulant," said his doctor. "I wil]
not have it," replied the dying man,
and closing his eyes he passed awaj
quietly. His body lay in state at the
Capitol. He was a member of the Confederate
Congress, and was interred
with much pomp at Hollywood on the
21st, by Bishop Johns. Polk died June
15, 1849, three months after his retire/va?vi
4-It /\ "pTflciITa Vinp
iliCULU iium UJJ^ AitvjiUWiivj.
suffered from diarrhoea on the journey,
and a recurring attack proved fatal. Or
hi3 death-bed he received the rite ol
baptism at the hands of a Methodisl
clergyman, an old neighbor and friend,
Taylor attended the Fourth of Jnh
ceremonial in 1850, when the dust fron
Kosciusko's tomb was deposited in th<
Washington Monument, and endured
for several hours the heat of a day he de
clared worse than any he had" exper
ienced in Mexico or Florida, (ioing
home he insisted on eating freely ol
unripe cherries and drinking cold wate]
and iced milk, despite the remon
strances of his servant, bringing on ar
attack of cholera morbus and typhoid,
of which he died on the 9 th. An im
posing procession accompanied his re
mains to the Congressional Cemetery
the Episcopal service having previously
been read in the East Room by Drs
Butler and Dr. Pyne,
Millard Fillmore died at Buffalo at 1]
p. m. on Sunday, March 8, 1874, anc
was buried on the 12th, after the bod]
had lain in state in St. Paul's Cathedral
Franklin Pierce passed away at
a. m. on Friday, "October 8, 1869, at th<
residence of Mr. Willard Williams
Concord, N. H., of dropsy and inflam
mation in th.9 stomach. For the las'
three days of his life he was nearly un
conscious, aad he died without pain
His body lay in state at Doric Hall, anc
was buried in the Minot Cemetery, or
Main street, on the 11th. Jame:
Buchanan died at Lancaster, Pa., a
8.30 on tho morning of Monday, June 1
1S6S, after an illness of one month
though he had been sinking for nearly;
year. Hi? last honrs were peaceful anc
nearly painless. On the night befor*
in's dpath hft trtiyp> detailed direction:
for the ordering of his funeral and tin
j erection of his monument, dictating th<
inscription, a blank to be left for th
, date of death, " which cannot be dis
tant," he said. In the morning hi
asked for a drink of water from th
I spring, saying to the medical attendant
j " Doctor, if disembodied spirits eve
come back, I believe that mine wiil b
found about that spring." Eis las
authentic words as he sank into th
sleep in which he died were : " Oh
Lord God Almighty, as Thon wilt!
His funeral took place on the 4th, th
exercises being conducted by Dj
Neven, President of Franklin am
Marshall College, an immense con
course being in attendanoe. The cii
cumstances of iae death of Abrahar
} I Lincoln and of his " funeral 1.500 miles
: long," Lave been iully described.
r Andrew Johnson died suddenly at
r Greenville, TeDn., on Saturday. July
5 31, 1S75, aud was buried with Masonic
?j ceremonies on the 3d of August,?JVt-tr
f | l'ork Herald.
!; WORDS OF WISDOM.
' | Our deeds determine us as much as
| ; we determine our deeds.
! The best lightning rod for your proi
tection is your own spine.
i There is no pleasure but that some
: pain is nearly allied to it.
' Principles like troone of the line are
11 undisturbed and stand fast.
The conditions of success are three?
^ j work, concentration and fitness.
. j Genuine suffering often jests best, for
! it knows no idle longing for tears,
s Knowledge, like religion, must be
' rperienced" in order to be known.
! Virtue dwells at the head of a river,
1 o which we cannot get but by rowing;
' against the stream.
Poverty often deprives a man of all j
j spirit and virtue. It is hard for an I
_ empty bag to stand upright.
f *&e ^^rsi fraits^fhey bear we learn what
l may be expscted in the future.
-Envy is a passion so full of cowardice
and shame that nobody ever had the
. confidence to own its possession.
Great men should think of oppor1
tunity and not of time. Time is the
1 excuse of feeble and puzzled spirits.
Memory can glean but can never renew.
It brings us joy faint as the perfume
of flowers?faded and dried, of
the summer that is gone.
Whoever makes a fuss about doing
good, does very little ; he who wishes
' to be seen and noticed when he is doinf
, good, will not do it long.
To succeed in any of life's endeavors,
, j be our talents what they may, we rej
quire perseverance, decision and
. j tenacity of will to reach the full measi
ure of success.
| ?
j The Future Moter-Power.
? ?-t?- -e n j. "D_:
. j ocienuuc men ui uxeuu jjmaiu uu:
ject to the steam engine because it does
i not meet the wants of the present fast
! age ; because it spends too much force
| for the results it accomplishes, and for
j the additional reason that it is fast con;
suming the coal that will be wanted for
j.heating purposes. They want a better
force, more locomotion, quicker travel,
less expense, and greater security. They
want something that will propel canoes
as well as ships ; that will run S6W.:ng
machines as well as trip hammers ; that
will draw pleasure carriages as well as
railway cars. They desire a motor that
I will not consume fuel, produce smoke,
j or cause noise ; that can be managed by
| a child and run, if desired, in a parlcr.
j They want something that will do all
j the steam engine does and many things
! beside.
In the opinion of most of the scientists
of Great Britain electricity is to
take the place of steam in driving machinery
and moving cars, and is to be
generated bv the action of tides, winds,
and filling water. They predict that
wind-power will be utiii2ed to a greater
extent than any persons in a previous
age ever believed it would. "Wind will
generate electricity for moving machinery,
for lighting streets, and warming
i dwellings in Ireland, Belgium, Den
mark, and other countries where there
! are few streams that afford water-power,
j The movement of tides will produce
| the same effects in most countries that
have an extensive sea-coast, while the
fall of water in rivers and streams will
generate electricity in all mountain regions.
The great electrical exhibition at
Paris is doing much to draw attention
to what is called the motor power of
the fature. 'A picture called " The
Queen of the Nineteenth Century"
hangs in many of the shop windows. It
is a female figure surrounded with a
| halo, and emitting rays of light from
! the hands, rchich are raised as if to enable
the being to fly. The light gives
I the arms the appearance of wings. The
! artist is an enthusiast, and is regarded
' i bv manv as a crophet. We all hope that
his fair predictions will be realized.
I The steam engine is a good thing, but
' i we are ready for something better. Now
! that attention is drawn to electricity,
'! great results may be expected.? Chicago
\ j Tribune.
A Discouraged Housekeeper.
! "I think," said a New York lady, " the
serenity of the housekeepers I have met
since coming to Ohio, is marvelous.
They have been burning soft coal these j
; i years, yet I do not see but their fore- j
! I 1h 's are as unfurrowed and their, hair j
' : ?, ichanged as the favored women of;
'! the anthracite regions. I confess I
T ' r\t\ye^A 4-r\ a r-A otitt nf T*OTT I
! peep into my bed-room yesterday morn
ing, and see the forlorn object seated
^ on a hassock, actually crying, amid the
> wreck of matter and the crush?of tin'
ware. Imagine the scene. There had
; been a fire in the stove for a week or !
I [ mere, but it had gone out, the wind be>
I ing contrary and the draught rot good.
\ A large quantity of soot had accumulate
! ed in the pipe; it is astonishing how a
: pipe can fill up with soot filaments ; I
never saw anything like it before. The
r feet of the stove did not fit very well;
1 paradoxically speaking, they were infirm
5 because they were not in firm. Very
! gently, I thought, I administered a
' shaking, which was soon followed by a
qaaking; first one foot fell out, then
> another, the stove careened, and, horror
f nf Vi^-rrni-e t t.liA tali nnlnmn of THDe
* swayed, and ' what a fall was there, my
countrymen!' The soot poured itself
i out upon the carpet; but 'twas the last
drop in the bucket that drowned my
amiability; for at the fatal moment,
there happened to be a tin pail (New
> York vocabulary) full of water standr
ing on the stove. Id collapsed, and its
. r??vnfrpnts meandered across the carpet
/n devious ways, mingling with the
eoot in a blackened tide ; and there,
over the prostrate stove-pipe, I did not
hesitate to declare my utter detestation
of bituminous coal. I have faithfully
scrubbed with ammonia my drenched
carpet, yet the trail of the serpent is
over it all. I suppose I shall get used
to it; they all do, they say; but I
don't feel a bit resigned as yet."
Raffling for a Baby.
In the early days of California women
and babies were extremely rare, and
; one night at the theater in San Franciso
when a baby set up a cry during
the playing of the orchestra an excited
miner rose in the gallery and shouted :
" Stop them fiddles and let the baby
cry. I haven't heard such a sound for
ten years."
Judging by a scene at Tucson, A. T.,
a Sunday or two ago, there is as great a
a dearth of babies there as in the younger
davs of San Francisco. Colonel Dean
e found a richly dressed Mexican baby
e lying on the grass, evidently abandoned
by its mother, and crying at the top of
r its voice. He laid claim to it, and was
e soon surrounded by persons anxious for
$ the prize. A Mexican lady offered $20
e for it. An American lady bid $50. A
hundred others wanted the baby raffled
' off, declaring their readiness to take
e tickets at any price. But the Colonel
._ concluded to adopt the baby himself,
3 and did so at the expense of being denounced
as a selfish man who <vould
.. give none of his fellow mortals a
Q chance.
GOLD AM) SILVER 3IIMNG.
How >Iinlnc for the Preciou* Metal* Becnn
In Thin Country?'The "Argonauts" of'49
and Their s>ucce>sor?, the Prospector*?
What a Cold Placer it and its Relation to
Quartz ."Uluiuir.
Mining for the precions metals on
the Pacific coast and in the Rocky
mountains dates from the discovery of
the yellow nuggets in the tail-race of
Sutter's mill in California in ISIS;
and frcm the "Argonauts," as they
have been aptly styled, of the next
year, the "old forty-niners," has sprung
a class of men, the prospectors, who
| have played no unimportant part in
the history of the far West. Of all
i the characters to be met with in the
mining regions, the prospectors are
the best worth knowing. They are
rarely miners, that is, they never expect
to engage in the systematic development
of mines or to make their
fortunes by the actual production of
bullion. They are simply the discoverers
of lodes and placers, and
when fortune smiles upon them and
' 1 - - 1 -- te 3 >> Xl~
xney m&Ke "gooa Binb.es mev at uute
become anxious to sell out and to
move on to some new diggings -tfhere
there are more new mines to discover.
gold dust with, little labor: and the
expenditure of a small amount of
capital, the prospector will be content
to remain for a few months upon a
claim that he has "located." and work
it, but as soon as the gravel begins to
be "lean" he is pretty sure to sell
out his interest and move on to new
fields.
Gold mining generally antedates
silver mining, and the discovery and
Ai flii* ln/?a _
upcratiuii ui i-uv
tion and development of quartz veins
or irregular deposits of ore in the rocks.
A placer is a mass of alluvial sand and
gravel, with, -which are mixed small
particles of grains of gold. Placers are
formed by the disintegration of the
rocks of which the mountains are
formed, smd a washing down of the
loose particles by the streams which,
swollen by the melting snows, become
irresistible torrents at certain seasons
of the year. If the rocks which are
broken up by frosts and rains and the
subtle chemistry of the atmosphere
contain gold, the precious metal is
released by the breaking up of the
material that surrounds it, and, in
small particles, is carried along with
the remainder of the debris until the
velocity of the water, as it approaches
the valley where the declivity is less
steep, is checked, and the solid matter
which ha.s been carried along is dro2>ped
in the bed of the river. This process,
continued for ages, finally makes
deposits o! great extent and thickness.
Th place where a placer is found, if
i+ c+ili mmoino in wat Ar-f?rm rs?_ is
a "gulch." A canon in the mountains
as distinguished from a gulch is that
the former is generally narrower, with
more precipitous sides and a steeper
incline so that the water scours out
all the sand aud gravel, leaving the
bed-rock bare or covered only with
large boulders and fragments of rocks i
that are too heavy for the stream to
more ; while in the gulch the material
that has been brought through and
out of the canon is precipitated.
A majority of the streams of tbe
Rocky mountains, and the Pacific coast
are, during tbe greater part of the year,
little rivulets that pick their way in
winding courses through the beds of
the great but short-lived rivers that roll
down with resistless force when fed by
the melting snows. These beds are
therefore dry during the greater part
of the year, and resemble the stony,
gravelly beds of New England brooks
when a summer drought has dried up the
streams. As gold has a greater specific
gravity tnan sana ana gravei, u is carried
along by the water nearer the bottom
than the remainder of the material,
and is the first to drop and remain npon
the bed-rock. The richest streaks are,
therefore, generally found near the bottom
of the deposit. In some cases
placers have several strata?that is.
there was first bnught down and left
in the bed of the stream a large amount
of material at the bottom of which is a
rich streak of gold dust. Then, subsequently,
deposits made by the stream
when it was not large, and T?hich contain
little or no gold, are made, and
upon the top of those still other rich
streaks have been left. The Mexicans
call these strata of gold-bearin2r.xs;j&el
"mantas," American jtofcmoT?* "pay
streaks." In woriaservojlsace it is also
frequently fftn o^ciiat the deposits of
gold Iiavg r?^' oeen made regularly in
lines parallel vs-ith the present direction
of the stream, but extend off at angles,
as the branches of a tree extend from its
trunk. This arrangement has been
caused by changes that have taken
place in the direction cf the stream.
- - -L A j/\r\
WJJCt; lb 11UVYCU. 1L. bUU uugvwvu v*
branching pay streaks, but it has since
been turned aside by rocks cr bends in
the channel, or, as it turned a comer, a
bar has been formed upon which the
sand and gravel and the gold that is
mixed with them was dropped.
Some of the richest gold placers in
the West have been formed by extinct
streams. In Xew Mexico, a year ago, I
saw gravel beds abounding in the yellow
dust, covering thousands of acres,
where no brook nor river now runs.
They are the pulverized debris of prehistoric
mountains which rose to much
higher altitudes than their now abraded
remains. Down the sides of these ancient
hills great torrents poursd where
now not even a rivulet can be found.
Again great glaciers or other tremendous
agencies of nature have sometimes
deposited great hills or mountains over
old river-beds so that, in mining, the
courses of what appear to have been subterranean
streams may be traced. In some
instances the material of which these
underground river beds are formed
carries gold in considerable quantities,
and, in California, especially, the su
?
penncumoent mountains are <u?u ucquently
rich placers. In the Golden
state some of these mountains have
j been removed by hydianlic power, the
gold separated from the sand and gravel,
J ited in the valleys, lilling them up to
great depth.
As placers are generally discovered in
a new mining district before quartz
mines, so those placers that are in the
: beds of present streams are more easily
! found than those of ancient, extinct
| risers or subterranean streams. The
j earliest mining is in the gulches. That
i there is gold in a region where it was
j not before known to exist is generally
; first discovered by accident. A freshet
| tears up the ioose sand and gravel on
I the bed of a stream and carries it away,
j exposing the particles of gold which
I are too heavy to be moved by the water.
| This was the way in which the first gold
| was discovered in the stream at Sutter's
; mill in California. In New Mexico and
j Arizona, where there are lar^e ancient
i r\lar>&r with no water now run
?-? ?I
ning through them, heavy rams somej
cimes make gullies in the mesas or tablelands,
and after the showers the Mexicans
search along the bottoms of them
; and pick up the small particles of gold
! that are exposed and save them in little
J vials made of gooseqv.ills. In the Black
: Hills the Indians picked up these grains
; of gold and some large nuggets, anci
' knew where they could be found manv
I years before white people went to that
| country. A French Catholic missionary,
! Father de Sniet, who labored amongst
j the Indians for many years, advisee
: them as they prized their homes ?.nc
1 hunting grounds, never to let the white
people see the golden nuggets which Jthey
had collected, rightly believing
that the Sioax would be immediately - V
driven out and the white people would
take possession of their country, treaty
or no treaty. Bat the secret was too
important a one to be ke; t always, and - *
after the priest's death a rumor got
abroad of gold in the Black Hills; then - " \
Caster was sent in there by the government
to make an exploration, which resulted
in the verification of the vague
reports, and after that the United States
army was not large enough to keep the
people out. ^
Some of the most important placer
j discoveries have been made by accident
i by miners bound for some other new
diggings. Alden gulch, afc Virginia
City, Montana, prodnced nearly $10,000,000?more
than any other gulch on
the Pacific slop*.. Its rich treasures
were discovered by a party of goldhunters,
who camped upon it for dinner,
on their way to the diggings that were
already well known. One of them dug ^5-.
up a panfal of earth and washed it out
in the little stream, more orjii^Sr^ctillosity
than in the expectation of finding
anything. He was' surprised to find
several large grains of gold in the bottom
of his pan, and, of course, the party
went no further. Mines accidentally
tdi^wred^wiaj3a?ycaseB^-provEd'- ~
to be the richest.
Sweet Home. ' : j
When two jonng people love each
other and marry, they restore the picture
of the apostolic church. They
are of one heart and one soui. . ^
Neither do they say that anything they
possess is their own, but they have
all things in common. Their mutual
trust in each other, their entire confidence
in each other, draws out all that
is best in both. Love is an angel who
rolls the stone away from the grave
in which we bury our better nature,
and if; forth. Love makes all
things new; makes a new heaven and
a new earth ; makes all cares light, all
pain easy. It is the one enchantment
of hnman life which realizes Fortunio's
pnrse and Aladdin's palace, and turns
the "Arabian Nights" into mere pr&se
by comparison. Before real society
can come, true homes must come. As^_
in a sheltered nook in the midst of a >*esa^great
sea of ice which rolls down the
i summit of Mont Blanc, is found a little
green spot foil of tender flowers, so
in the shelter of home, in the warm
atmosphere of household love, springs
np the pure affections of parent and
cinid ; lather, motner, son, aanguwsr;
I of brothers and sister, "Whatever
! makes this insecure, and divorce
[ frequent, makes of marriage, not a
union for life, but an experiment
which may be tried as often as we
choose, and abandoned when we like.
And this cuts up by the roots all the
dear affections of home; leaves children
orphaned, destroys fatherly and
motherly love, and is a virtual dissolution
of society. I know the great
difficulties of this question, and how
much wisdom is required to solve
them. But whatever weakens the
permanence of marriage tends to dissolve
societv; for permanent homes
-i-t- at
are so tne social state wuat cue umc
cells are to the body. They are the
commencements of organic life, the
centres from which, of necessity, all
organizations must proceed.?James
Freeman Clarke. *,
\
Farming' in Japan. f
\
Milton S. Vail, a missionary in Japan,/
gives, in the Methodist, the following
account of Japanese farming: The '
| farmers in Japan seem to operate on
I 11 1. *11 _ J
2? SJjQcLIjL bi-ic* *ij3iuu ucivii^o iv
the government, and all liave to pay a
ground rent. Wheat, barley, rye and
buckwheat are grown in rows, the weeds
being kept out by hoeing. It seems
| strange to see all their grain growing
i in rows, but no doubt good crops are
thus produced. Eice is the chief product
of Japan. The earth nearly everywhere
is black, and the black soil of
the valleys, when well cultivated and
made to hold the water from the neighboring
hills, makes go' i. rice fields.
The soil is broken by manual labor.
Men go in the mud up to their knees
ard with a long bladed hoe turn over
the earth. Horses are used to harrow
it down, and when ready the rice plants
are set out by hand. The rice of Japan is
very fine, and
cookie them it is the principal
article of food?a little rice, with pickles
and tea, often constitutes a rnc-alT The
people do not know how to make bread,
but stem to be very fond of it when
they can get it from foreigners. They
have flour which they use in various
ways in the simplest kind of cookery.
T nnti/?W? frt cnming to this ulace
(Hakone, a mountain town forty-five
miles from Yokohama) that at some of
the inns, instead of tea, they gave ns a
drink made of pounded wheat. Potatoes,
sweet potatoes, egg plants, corn,
melons, cabbages, onions and turnips
are also grown, and other vegetables,
the names of which I do not know and _\never
saw in America. I think all the
vegetables grown in New York can bo
cultivated here. Of fruits, we have
peach e?, plums, oranges, strawberries,
pears and persimmons, also figs.
Postal Privileges.
The United States, Postal Official
Guide contains an opinion which will be
oi interest to those who have been persecuted
by postal cards. It is as follows :
When any one is annoyed or expects
to be annoyed by postal cards sent from
any particular place, or from any known
person, he may direct the postmaster at
the point named to destroy all postal >
cards addressed to him, or cards from any
person named so addressed; and as far
as the discharge of the duties of the ?
office permit sufficient examination, the
nrtctmactar chonlrt Mfflnlv With the TP
?- ? - c-.
quest. The same request may be made
of the receiving postmaster. The direction
to the postma?t?r should be in writing,
and should be filed for presentation.
The privileges connected with the
sending of fourth-class matter are defined
as follows:
595. Section 231 ,P. L. & R., provides
that the sender of any package of matter
of the fourth-class may write or print
upoD, or attach to any such articles, by
tag or label, a mark, number, name, or
letter for the purpose of identification.
Therefore, when a package of fourthclass
matter is submitted for mailing
with a number writt^r> thereon, such as
1 on 101 io fciifir.lod In Tiass as
L.^V UJ. X~on *v j
fourth-clas* natter. So, also, if it has
a Dame or a letter instead of a number.
But should there be two numbers or
two letters, or a number and a letter,
or a name and a number or letter, it
would not be entitled to pass as fonrinclass
matter. In other words, the conjunction
"or" employed in the statute,
restricts that which may be wiitten or
printed to one thing, be it mark, number,
name, or letter.
Governor Roberts, of Texas, exercises
a personal supervision of the prisoners
in the ?tate penitentiary. Most
of them, he says, are young men from
the Northwest, East and North, who,
having strayed from homo restraints,
have fallen into bad company and got
! fr/vnlil/i fja tVlPm that STOOd a
1; conduct will j-Lor ten their tennis, and,
if, they behave themselves pardons them
out.
?
i An English pauper named Worth,
: employed in tending pigs at the Lei1
cester Workhouse, has been left $19,000
! by tlie will of a gentleman wifh whom
! 1 he was at one time in partnership,