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I ? _ THE ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER. f ' ' . : .7. "'If % * . N BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBEK 13, 1876. VOLUME XXIV.?NO. 36. ? ? ? ? 1 ???-???i^??^^^ ? ~ ~ I The Absent Oue. Oh, silence of the niglu, whoso voice alone is Hweet, WLei? Lers is lost to m*? Mysterious ray that falls about tbo mossy feet Of yonder shading treeTell me if that hor eyo, when othors soundly sleep, Rekindles soft its snn, And if my darling fiieud, while I my vigil keep, Recalls the ahtent one! Wben in the blue aloft the moou floods with her light The forest and the sky? What time the bells that to the vesper prayer invite, Chime and vibrate and dieTell me if that her sonl to their sweet harmony Responds in unison, And if to her that chime of peaceful melody " Recalls the absent one! JOHN'S PROMISE. Ail Incident of Western Pioneer Life. Sumner was a mushroom city which had sprung up on the bauks of a ravine that cut through the western bluffs of the Missouri. In a thicket of oak sap-, lings high up on tlie nide of one of ' Ihof-e bluffs, etooil a hastily built house, aided with rough, upright oottonwood boards, a rubty Btovepipe sticking through the roof; a small window, curtained by a soollop edged newspaper; and a white door taken from a sunken lAA~.kr.ni mVtACA YIISKAIV* finieVlO/^ VNu Y~1 ill D fcj Of & Hi LTV/AC) WUUOD UlVQiJ uutouvu ^/uulio contrasted strangely with its surroundings, completing the exterior. One pleasant May evening, ju?t as the shrill whistle of a steamboat echoed among the hills, this door was opened by a pleasant young woman, who was followed by a ciyiDg child. "Ob, Sammy, quit your noise; that's pappy's little man; see the great boat 'way yonder ; " lifting him up; " don't you see? look right sharp now, close ag'in' the bank. Does Sammy want to go down town and see the big boat, and see pappy?" The willing feet toddled down the path; but the mother called: "Wait a bit, and mammy '11 pack Sammy;" and, tying on a pink sunbonnet, she took him in her arms and started down tbe steep, crooked path. She reached the steep main street to * ? /in - 3 ?:ai- n.^4. i ana ir mieu wim waguus mtu u?a uccu turned crosswise of the street, to rest the te :ms. But, edging her way close to the clay bank, she reached the river just as the 6teamer was leaving the wharf. The srorting of the engine and the shouting of the deck hands, together with the puffiing of the mill near by, was too much for baby bravery, and Sammy's lip begun to quiver. Catching him in her arms, his mother sat down on a sawlog, saying : "There, there, honey, don't be afeared, be pappy's man, now." The tide waves of the receding boat 6unk lower and lower on the sand; the gay crowds that leaned over the guards * grew indistinct, and she peered more and more eagerly in among the tall cott-onwood trees on the opposite shore. At length four men came out of the woods, and, entering a skiff, started across the river. She watched the skiff anxiously, for it frequently disappeared between the waves which were raised by the strong south wind. Four rough looking men, in red woolen shirts?for lumbermen aid not pretend to wear coats, except in the coldest weather?jumped out of the skiff, and, with boisterous laughter and rude jests, entered the mill. Presently one of them spies her and came toward her saying, boisterously : " Hoorah for you, Nancy ! Whatever brongM you'un down 'ere this time of evenin'! Mighty fine doin's, when you oughter be to home gettin' your old roan a bite o' supper I Packed that ? A - - Till 1 i. t T> U young nil aown, ioo, x ji uei. i xvwcuuu you'd as well get back right quick, now!" He snatched the bahy from her and tossed him on his shoulder, shoutiDg: "Hoorah for pappy's man! , Peertest boy in this 'ere town! Mighty proud to see his pap !" Poor Nancy ! Her husband was drunk again. She hurried up the street, pinning her deep sunbonnet more olosely about her face, that the passers might not see the tears that would come. He had kept sober so long that she had hoped he would come home sober again. She bad anticipated so much pleasuie of meeting him, afk. his week's absence. How often she had thought of it in those long, lonely'nights, when sho had only her child and hei thoughts for company. It took but a few minutes to put supper on the table. Ihen she sat down on the doorstep to watch for her husband, worrying, all the time lest he lefc something happen to Sunmy." When at last ho entile the effects of the liquor were wearing off, and be ate his supper and smoked his pipe in sullen silence. She could not eat a mouthful, but she dared not let the tears come, for she knew that it would make him angry. So she fed Sammy, layiDg her face on his little h8ad ocoe in i while, to force back the choking lump that kept rising in her throat. Then she hastened to rock him to sleep, lest his fretfulness should disturb his father. The first peep of dawn fonnd her , busily preparing bre*kfast, for she knew that John wanted an early start. The sound of the cofft?emill woke him j from his heavy sleep, and he lay quiet- i ]y watching her by the light of the dim ( lamp, as she moved onicklv back and i forth from table to stove ; from thence to 1 the little row of shelves, in lieu of a cup- . board, setting on the dishes, watching ; the bacon, and taking the crisp corn dodger from the ov?n. " She is a dear, good wife," thought he; " what a scoun , drel I was to make her feel so badly." T - Ua V* rwl Vtiion f a lt/i? XIO ( Uav uu ua<i n?w? iv/u^u tv utti t be nifjht before. He wished that ho could remember what he Kuid. Of course he never got dead diunk, but ho wished that he could forever let whisky alone. His breakfast, was just to his liking, and hi^ wife as cheerful as if he was the 1>est iron in the world. Ho wanted to ray something pleasant to break the awkward silence, but he did not know how to begin. He had an uncomfortable feeling that he ought to beg her pardon ; but, being a man, of course ho did not condescend to that. At length he begun by saying : " You was right )>eart about your breakfast this morning, Nancy." ? "Oh, I allowed most likely you'd want to get off soon," she answered. " Ten, Jones wants us there ag'in sun? T * ? 11 up. AIM UUiy U 111 mm , we can get it down to Leavenworth ag'in the night train starts, and I'll get right on, and be back to Atchison afore day. Don t catch me foolin' away another day 'rouiid that old fort." "Oh, John! I'm so proud!"?she panned abruptly, for his eyes dropped with a look of <">jacious shame. What mood was he in ? Would it do to speak then ? He had shoved back from the table, and there was a eerions, far-away look in his eyes, but nothing so lien or forbidding. She went around, and dropping on her kueee beside him, slipped her arms about his neok, Baying : " Oh, John, I wish you'd promise me you'd never drink * ay more whisky." " That'b most too hard on a fellow ; but I'll promise not to?not drink too much ag'in," he answered. " But I'm aftard that wouldn't do any good." " You talk like you thought I hadn't House enough to stop when I've got enough, if I try," he exclaimed. 14 Oh, John, don't talk so ; you know you promised me that nigh onto a year t'go ; but you think you'll just take one dram, and then just one more, and afore you know it, it's too much. If you'd only promise me now that you'd never taste nary drop ag'in." Still he kept his eyes steadily turned away from hers. " Don't you mind, now," she went on, "how your mother said one time: * I reckon, Nancy, you count John a mighty rough chap, but he's all right at tho core' ? aud don't you mind how she used to pray for you in them old times ? Don't you mind tho evenin' we heard her prayin' down by the old spring? If bhe's watching you among the stars, how proud she'd be to hear you promise. And John," she continued, dropxai'aa n ' T TlT*QX7 UC1 VU1V.C IU C9 tt uioyv.JL j A | too, sometimes. I have never told you, but I've been feeling right serious here of late. I've taken to readin' my Bible, and I've just made up my mind to live better'n 1 used to; and pray for you, too, and it seems like God hears me." And she laid her head on his shoulder to hide her tears. His arms slipped around her, but he still kept his eyes turned stubbornly away from hers. At last, laying his face against hers, he spoke earnestly : " Yes, Nancy, I promise." Pr<iFently, startincr up, he exclaimed: "If I haven't stayed till plum daylight!" " Oh, John ! come and kiss baby afore you go, he looks so sweet. Sammy ! Sammy! wake up, honey, and kiss pappy I" " Bless his sleepy eyes ! Pappy's little man ! I'll bring him some candy when I come home ag'in." All day Nancy went about with such a light, cheery heart as she had not carried in her bosom for many a day ; singing snatches of old hymns, and thinking happy, hopeful thoughts of him who, ail those long hours, was working his milder n en in fit, tho stronir current of the Missouri. That evening the stars shone brightly down upon her, when she kaelt by the little window, and asked God's blessing on her husband and his good resolu- 1 tions. But she was awakened, a few hours 1 afterward, by a rush and confusion, a shower of glass and hail across her bed ; ] and, catching her baby in her arms, she 1 sprung up, frightened and bewildered. 1 It was a terrible storm ; one long to be \ remembered by all who felt its terrors. ' The deafening roar of the wind and hail ] almost drowned the loud thunder. A ' blinding flash of lightning showed the i trees almost bent to the ground, and ' the house rocked to and fro like a cradle. ( She suddenly felt a new, strange feel- ' ing, as if she was flying, floating, through the air. She thought that she ( wat, dizzy, and caught hold of the bed. J A terrible crash?she never knew how it all happened! Her baby's ories aronsetl Her. rue winu ana rain cuuiea her tbrongb. She started to spring up, but something held her down. A shock of pain darted over her, and, putting out her hand, she felt a great beam lying heavily across her limbs. It seemed as though it was crushing her. Something struok her, then another, and another. How they stung ? Oh ! was her child unsheltered from that pitiless storm ? His screams grew louder. Oh! she must reach him I She could see nothing throngh the thick darkness, but she knew that he was not far off What if he, too, was fastened, crippled ! She stretched her arms ; every movement made her pain more excruciating. She strained every Tiwrve, she could almost reach him. What if he was free una couia come to ner f -un, oammy i Sfimmy!" she called, "cometo mammy." 1 The child ceased orying. She heard him move. His warm body touched her hands, that were groping in the darkness. She caught him in her arms and hugged him to her breast. She felt of his head, his arma, his feet; sound and whole. How thankful she was for that. But how those cruel nailstones must have bruised him. She rested him on the ground and crouched over him; she could move just enough for that. The frightened child ceased crying, and put his arms about her neck, [f she could only find something to cover them from the storm. She reaohed around, but could touch only cold mud. Oh ! that terrible pain ! She had a!- : most forgotten it in her anxiety for her child. It grew more and more intolerable. It seemod as though the hailstones struck through into her brain. TX7V*nf if fl.ar lrillrkrl lier f Wqq i afraid to die? Visions of eternity, of the heaven of her faith, rose before her. Should she dwell with God and the angels forever? Was it possible that there would never be an end ? No? f-he was not afraid of death. Bat her child, ' her husband?how could she leave them ? Not yet! No, no, when life opened before her I She must live to help John keep his promise. God would spare her for that. How long ' would it bo until morning ? How could she bear the pain so long? Oh, it J would be terrible if John should come , and find her lying there, cold and stiff. ' John did love her, oh! so well. He j bad loved her so long. It seemed so many years since he first told her that ' he loved her ; it was on the mountain side, in de;u: old Tennessee. How far j iway it seemed. How the sun shone , and the bi~ds suns:. How dreamy and . bewildered her thonghts were. How 1 still the baby was. Yes, she could feel , hin Imnrf liftxf, Hlin nn lmttrpr felt f.hfl pelting of the storm ; hail it ceased? ' Her thought wan answered by ft rush of wind from a new direction. Sho felt j the great weight lifting oil from her. She was free. Then?something struck J her. ******* ' The train went snorting into Winthrop ' just at daylight. John jumped off, and ! was the first to reach the ferry. He ' had never seen Atchison so quiet. With j the exception of those who had crossed on the ferry, and a few early risers who 1 were hurrying up the street, the town J seemed asleep ; but as he passed up the street he saw a man who was riding a ' mulo coming down in great haste, who cried out: " How d'ye, John ?,: "Why, Jake!" he replied, "is that \ you? 1 allowed you was half way to Denver afore now." "We started yesterday, but we had ' a powerful storm on the prairie out : here la^t night. We chanced to be right near to a house and they let us in; but it sent our old wagons rolling over and over across the prairie, and our oxen all stampeded: I'm on the hunt of them I) now. " It don't look like it had reached Atchison." i "No; I reckon it just took a streak." John hurried on down the river. The road ran bo near the bank that the steady swash of the water seemed under his feet. The birds were singing in the trees, acd the sunshine came creeping down the bluffs overhead. How eager he was to get home that morning. His heart was full of new plans and new purposes. He could keep his promise, and he would; he would never make Nancy's heart ache again by breaking that promise. He stopped aaddenly? had the storm reached Sumner ? The tall buildings along the wharf were leaning roofless, one this way, another that, as if the wind, coming over the bluffs, had reached just low enough to unroof them. He hastened around the foot of the hill; there lay the briok hotel, the boast of the town, in scattered fragments on the ground, like a wasps' nest scattered by the housekeeper's broom. He looked around; three-fourths of the town lay in ruins. How was it with his home ? He ran up the street until he could see where it stood. Gone I Not a vestige of it left. And his family ? Perhaps they had escaped before the storm; perhaps. Scarce knowing what he did, he hurried to the nearest house that was yet standing, and without ceremony opened the door. There was no one in the room, but on a couch in one corner a white sheet "sunk to the still proportions" of two silent forms. Moved by some strange impulse, he turned back the covering that shrouded the faoes? Nancy and the baby ! Shocked, stunned, he Bunk on his knees and laid his face on that dear form. Who can describe, who can com prehend, the utter desolation of that hour ? None but those who have felt it. Oh, the thoughts and memories that crowded upon him?many of them bitter, regretful thoughts. But there was one memory for which he was thankful: that he had not listened to the tempter which whispered to him yestermorn, that it would be weak and unmanly to yield to her request. They found him there an hour afterward, but he asked no questions, made no reply to their attemptsat consolation, and they left him alone with his dead. Cost of Making a President "The American people," said an English writer on our politics, " is perpetually voting for some election or other." Somebody, it might be added, has to bear the expense of these perpetual elections. Just what the expense is, in a general canvass like that which has just drawn to a close, it is difficult to estimate with any approach to accuracy ; lor there are no statistics ex * -a a xi 1 tant upon tne suojeci, ana me puimuiuutt who plan and conduct campaigns are naturally reticent upon such matters. It is plain, however, that there must bo a heavy outlay of money. The printing and distribution of campaign documents, the rental of public halls, the pay of stump speakers, the purchase of banners, torches, uniforms and other paraphernalia ; the expense of postage and telegraphing?all these are necessary outlays, and when the extent to which they are carried throughout the oountry is borne in mind it becomes very apparent that the aggregate must be enormous. A paragraph has lately been going the rounds of the press, to the Bffect that the strenuous campaign in ' - A A- 1U. Indiana preparatory iu wc icucuu uuno election consumed ten million dollars.This is, of course, wild exaggeration, based upon a mere random guess. An ef-timate that seems to us not far from the truth places the average coat of a Presidential election at about one million five hundred thousand dollars for each of the great opposing parties, or a total of three million dollars. Accepting this as within the bounds of prob ability, it would seem that the expense of putting a President into the Whito House is fifteen times greater tbau the whole amount of salary paid to the incumbent during his term of four years. Calling the population of tho country about forty millions this would be equivalent to a tax of seven and one half cents a head for every man, woman and child in the United States. The maintenance of the court of France for the first year of the second empire was less than two cents per head of tbe population. It appears that the cost of makiDg a President may be greater than that of keeping a prince. Tlio expense of our elections, however, are borne mainly by voluntary contribution. The burden falls chiefly on wealthy partisans who expect to share in some way the benefits ensuing from the election of their candidate. It takes the form of a tax only in the case of offioe holders, who are assessed for flection expenses by the party in power. The burden touches tbe people remotely and indirectly, if at all. while in reality they derive an actual and immediate benefit. The various devices by which their sympathy and support itre solicited awaken a more active interest in publio aflcirs, and the masses thereby acquire the rudiments of political education, instead of remaining in apathy and ignorance of tbe condition i>i lue country ana mo uamiuiHtrouuu ui tho government. Great as the costs of our elections may be, they cannot bo lamented as an unmitigated burden upon the people.?New York Herald. A. Town Inundated. Managua, tho capital of Nicaragua, was inundated on the night of the third and the morning of the fourth of October. On the third of October dark ulouds begun to gather over the doomed oity, followed by a furious wind, accompanied by a deluge of rain. Toward the dawn of tho fourth the downpour begun to abate, and there was some prospect df its cessation; but at about eight a. m. the rain recommenced, without causing much alarm at first; but suddenly, from the direction of the Sierras, a dull, rumbling sound was heard, approaching avery moment nearer, till at last an overwhelming flood of muddy waters, sweeping along in their headlong course great trees and masses of rock, burst upon she hapless city, penetrating into its inmost recesses. Tho people of the city were at breakfast when the flood burst in upon them, rising almost instantaneou ly to a height :>f ono or two yards in the houses. Don Floi encio Arce, a comfortable merchant, tried to save his daughter, who was ill. Se rau to the yard, but stuck faat in the oaud; a wall fed and killed him on the *pot, breaking both the legs of his laughter, who was rescued with great rltffi/niHp Vvtif tlio iliml Tim ttnfo r\f iliiUi.lUVJ) UUU fUU UiVU. AJUW TV AAV v* Don Jesus Trinidad, another well-to-do merchant, trusted her life to a rope that bad been tied across the street. But the rcpe gave \vny, and she was swept off by the flood, drowned before the eyes of her own husband and sons, who were helpless to save her. On the morningof the fiflhof October the flood had subsided, and the streets of Managua were once more, though not withont some dancer. rmsRn.hlR. The victims are six men and women, and fire or six children in tho city, and seven big and little of both sexes in tho Sierras. A Wonderful Horse. Startle, one of Robort Bonner's horses, recently trotted a quarter of a mile in thirty-two and one-half seconds. A noted horseman who witnessed tho feat Bays: When all the facts are considered, the performance was certainly the most wonderful ever made. Startle accomplished the feat so easily, and finished so well within himself, that I was convinced that, great as was the performance, he was capable of readily accomplishing a still greater. Startle, in his physical conformation, is a marvel of power, and the fact that a horse of his size could draw a wagon a 2:10 gait under such unfavorable circumstances, and without any special preparation, stamps him as the most wonderful horse of the age. THE HORRORS OF WAR. The Battle of DJddU--3,000 Serrtana Dt>aerted?How the Wounded Prlaonen Were Treated. A correspondent of the Londoi? Telegraph writes: Thus they came on, and presently opened so fearful a rifle fire that the bullets fell around us all like hail. As yet our infantry were quiet; not a rifle was heard, and the foe was coming nearer to the semi-circular trenohes of whioh I have before spoken. Suddenly there is a movement in the bushes, a sharp note from the bugle, a rattle of bayonets and steel barrels, and then a little cheer. Our men are moving, the supports are taking the empty trenches, and the rest of each battalion is in the reserve lines. All at once suoh a fire pours forth as envelops you in smoke, and makes that still advancing column stagger. Yet only for a minute; there is a counter cheer and a rapid rush. Whirr ! how the bullets fly past them; with what shrieks do :he shells bound in 1 See, the Servians are stand-!- ? t? x a~? BbllJL lur H lilUUlUlibj Uiii-Jg JCV| uuu coming no nearer to the mountain. Their line is gradually being fed, too, and they are extending eveiy moment It is only the fear of the shells and the bullets which makes them hesitate. Perhaps not only the fear, but rather the effect, for now they are falling fast, and without the aid even of a glass we can see that they are strewing the ground by hundreds or staggering away to die. Harder than ever is our fire, as theirs weakens, and more determined, too, are our men, for they now quit the outpost trenches and are advancing upon tho bewildered enemy. Volley after volley from the foe fails to stop them; they leave many a comrade on the ground, but on they go, till at length the Servians, seeing their red fezes coming nearer and nearer, turn and fly, deserting 3,000 of their number, who will never see home in Russia or on tho banks of the Danube any more. * * * Not one was there but might have been the hardy father of a numerous family. I did not see a boy among them. One is imrticnlar I noticed?and he was but a type of the rest?a tall, well made, broad shouldered warrior, who, having fought to his uttermost and received a wound in the stomach, had lain down upon the road to Derbent in hope of succor. Unhappily for him, friends were far away, and his comrades had hung in fantastio fashion, on a tree hard by, a Circassian, who, having fallen into their hands, had been first tortured and put to death. I was looking at him as I rode by, wondering n ne were yet anve, when, horrible to relate, there came upon the scene fonr Ghirkesaoes. They, too, had seen their hanging comrade, and they thirsted for blood. At this moment the wounded Servian raised his head and rolled his glassy eyes round in hope of descrying help. Down sprang a Circassian, and with a little dagger pierced the dying man through and through, cut off his right hand, and ripped him up as he lay upon the ground. Fortunately his end was near, and he expired; but even in death he was a handsome giant, this victim to the barbarous war which Russia has caused and waged. Desecration of Lincoln's Tomb. The attempted desecration of the tomb of the late President Lincoln is one of those stories whioh would seem to belong to imaginative rather than real crime. It is difficult to believe that even the worst of criminals would plan and endeavor to execute such a project. Had it succeeded the whole world would have regarded it with horror, and we may well believe that the expectation of a ransom with which the criiao was planned would have led to the final detection of the criminals, even if they had succeeded in concealing their purj-ote until its accom plishment. The later developments in regard to the attempted desecration, says a letter from Spiingfield, 111., shows that it was the consummation of a most1 determined and deep laid conspiracy, in j which no novices in the criminal art : ??- ?/?. of I were eilgtiguu* j uo ww^iuiuuikj nuu ?v first eo horrifiod by the discovery of the midnight attempt that they hastily jumped to a conolusior. that something of either political or QCttional significance attached to tho crime ; but it i3 now definitely known that the sole motive or object was tho obtaining of a great ranson for restitution of the remains. The Lincoln Monument Association, composed of leading citizens of tho State, have rained a large amount of money and erected a splendid monument which, with its fine surroundings, is the point of interest to all visitors hero. It was conjectured by the would-be robbers that the association, the citizens of Springfield and the people of Illinois, as ot the Union, would pay an immense sum to recover the body. It was to be another " Charley Ross" outrage, with much larger possibilities in the way of rewards. Ex-Chief Elmer Washburn was called in to aid in the capture, which would have been complete, with conclusive evidence, while all were in the crypt, but for an unfortunate accident. As the deteotivea emerged from their hiding place, one hundred feet from the vault entrance, one of them in examining his pistol accidentally discharged it. The robbers instantly fled and disappeared in the wood, which is bufc a few rods distant. The names of the parties engaged are all withheld by the officers, who say they can be had when wanted, but thev are alleged to bo among tho shrewdest managers of gigantic orimes | on this side of tho water. The first inkling of the affair was known in Jnne last, the details having been overheard in a honse in a Northern city, and wa3 soon reported to parties interested he^g. Since that time Robert Lincoln and Hon. Leonard Swett, of Chicago, have constantly been on the alert, and by means of several fortuitous circumstances were able to prevent what certainly would have been a most horrible sacrilege. The monument is now closely guarded. _ Did She Mistake. She led Lim to a sofa, and in a deep bass voico called him her soul's idol, and inquired what his monthly income was. Seeing his gaze fixed on her boa constrictor-like mouth, sho remarked : " DarliDg, I see you notice my largo and beautiful potato trap; let me explain to you the reason of its unusual size. When I was quite a child I was playing on pappy's cellar door; it gave way; I was precipitated down into tho basement, and caught by the mouth on a projecting meat hook, whioh ripped up my face and extended my mouth several inches." With his eyes full of sympathetic tears he rose from tho sofa, and I replied, as ho made toward tl'e door : | " My angel, you are perhaps mistaken, j Probably, in the exoitement of that awful J moment, you l?ft your mouth down in i the basement, and accidentally brought j np tho cellar. We shall meet again in a better world. Adieu." Stopped Fooling.?At tho opera house in Cincinnati, odo of the attendants at a menagerie plaj ed a trick upon the elephant. ' He offered the animal a quid of tobacco, which was thankfully received. Within a quarter of an hour tho young geutleman fell a victim to retributive justice. While he was standing in the oenter of a small group the elephant's trunk wound alnrat him and kissed him into the air. i Tweed as a Fireman. It is known that Wm. M. Tweed, whose case is now attracting so muoh attention, commenced his politioal career in New York as foreman of a fire company. "Big Six " was the name of the company aud " Big Six " has been attached to Tweed's name ever sinoe. A New York paper gives some incidents of this company, and of Tweed's connection with it. It says : Upon the ooourrence of the Hague Btreet explosion, at an early hour in the day, Tweed and his oompany were among the first to reach the Boene of the catastrophe, and to them was oommitted the task of extricating the living and dead from the rnins. Faithfully and laboriously did they toil, j remaining upon the ground all that day and night until three o'clook in the morning of the next, while the members of other companies retired after several hours of labor. The term "Big Six," applied to the j Americus engine, originated from the I 4-Jmo nf f.VlA rflntCftTllTA. JLOCb liuai au vuo wiuu v* ?mw - tion of No. 6 the oity had caused to be I constructed four e: gines of the Philadelphia pattern, two of tho largest of which were assigned to reorgsnized companies, assuming the prefix "big" to distinguish them from their predecessors. Niagara company thus became known among firemen as "Big Four," and Amerious as "Big Six." Jn this connection it is interesting to note the gradual and successive ohanges time and circumstances have wrought in the size and fashion of the engines used by our olnnteer fire department during the last half century of its existence. Originally companies employed the primitive style of fire engine, destitute of the power of suotion, yet furnished with a "goose neck," whion term denotes a species of universal joint attached to the tube ranning down into the air ohambers, to which joint could be screwed the discharge pipe, rendering it capable of being turned in any direction by the pipeman, who played directly on the fire from his station on top of the case containing the air chambers. To supply water for this machine the citizens were pressed into service, each house being by law compelled to keep hanging in the hall near the street a number of leathern buckets, inscribed with the owner's name. Upon an alarm of fire in the neighborhood, each house' 1 * -li-.ii -1 1 L~ bolder tosseu nia coueouuu ui uuutoia into the street, to be picked up by passera-by harrying to the conflagration. At the fire the bucket holders were formed into two lines, extending from the engine to the various town pumps in the vicinity, the one line to pass the buckets when filled to the engine, which had a box at the rear end to reoeive the water, and the second line to return the empty ones to the pumpers. After the fire was extinguished, the buckets were piled in a huge pyramid in front of the oity hall, and op the morrow the park 3 :a1- noornli I swarmed wim uuiuicu dtuvuiu u oviuuu of the property of their respective masters. As the fire department had for many years exercised strong local political in fluence, and even claimed the office of register as a reward for the faithful service of a popular chief engineer, the foreman of "Big Six " naturally aspired to municipal representation of the ward in which ho dwelt. Consequently he ran for the aldermanship of the Fourth ward, but was defeated. Chagrined at this untoward result, the com puny persuaded their foreman to remove from Yandewater to Rutgers street, and he was there placed in nomination for assistant alderman of the Seventh ward. His election laid the fonndation of a prolonged-political career, hia influence speedily extending over the Congressional district, proven through his election as representative over Conrad Swackhamer, a prominent political leader, and editor of the Democratic Review. Only once was he defeated, and then in a contest for the aldermanship. The Nail District of Birmingham. On a murk winter's nigLt, in the oldej time, when the fires from the blast furnaoes, and the lurid flames of some ignited pit mound, were all aglow. tho mtisio of the nailing hammers of Birmingham, England, might bo heard nil the country round. From the little huts or jhedB, dotted here and there upon the broken landscape, with an utter absence of order or convenience, as though the micrhty geological operations underneath liad shaken them into the most unlikely places, the gleam of the hearth fires would shine from the open4 shutters, and the merry songs of the workers, male and female, sung at the very topmost pitoh of their voices, might be heard a mile away. Up to ten or eleven o'clook at night would these sounds continuo?no unusual circumstance in a district where labor never seems to rest, but where the roaring furnaces and the great rolling wheels go on unceasingly day and night. Through the open loophole, the whole art and mystery of nail making could be witnessed by any passer-by. The nailer would have the ends of three or four rods in the fire, and taking out the one which had been in longest, after a pull or two at the bellows to bring it to a welding heat, he would taper down tho point upon his anvil, at the Bamo time making a shoulder for the head. He would then hold it over a ctasei or outting punoh, stuok upright at the Bide of his anvil, and, giving it one tap with his hammer, cut it halfway through, an iron stop in front of the punch giving him the exact guage for the length. Ho would then turn down the point of the half-severed nail into a steel instrument called a bore $he top of which ormed a mold for the head), and twist it off, and then, with a few smart blows, he would beat it down until the head was spread out sufficiently, and assumed the required shape, the nail juat turning from red to black as ho gave it the finishing tap. As his rods got too short, he would weld or "shut" two of them together, and put a new rod in the fire ; ami so on, with liie regularity 01 ciockwork, probably, in a thousand nails, not one varying the number of blows upon each. English Statistics. The returns for 1874 shpw that sixtynine of the 526,632 persons whose deaths were registered in England in that year were itated to be one hundred years old, or upward. These centenarians comprised sixteen men and fifty-three women; and the oldest were six widows, described as being 104 years old. Of the fifty-three women all but eight are registered as being widows. Among the whole sixty-nine there is only one who is styled a gentleman; one of the men is described as a pensioner, one woman as ail annuitant, and anotiier woman (one hundred years old) as a " ward in Ohancery/| A Bright Omen. Just as the long procession of people who had attended the last day of the Exhibition were slowly and reluctantly vending their way toward the exit gates of the Oentennial grounds, the leaden clouds which had veiled the sky during the whole of the day were parted in the west and a glorious glow of sunset overspread the inclosure. The grand towers of the Main bnilding were illuminated with golden light. Auspioious omen t May it bring in its train all the bright anticipations whioh it started instinctively in the minds of those who beheld it! The Heat of the gun. At a meeting of the academy of sciences, Prof. Rose's naval experiments were disousaed. A paper was read as follows : On no one of the unsettled questions of science is there so wide a discrepancy as in respect to the values set on the actual heat of the surface of the sun. Estimates have been furnished by Herschel and Secchi that place it at 10,000,000 deg.; by Ericsson at 4,000,000; and on the other hand, by French physicists of repute at a point a little over that of a blast furnace?say 1,500 degrees centigrade. This is a monstrous discrepancy for skilled experimenters. The difference in results depends upon the mode of working the problem, and the assumption involved. The large estimates come from following Newton's law that temperature increases as radiation does. The smaller estimates come from applying Dulong and Petit's law, in which temperature is a function of radiation; a function that reaches its nractif-al extreme when it is pushed be yond a temperature of two thousand degrees. Strange to say, the direct and simultaneons comparison of the sun's heat and that from terrestrial sources has not yet been made. As an approximate mode of inquiry, Prof. S. P. Langley determined to compare the lignt of the sun with that from the molten iron poured out of the Bessemer-converter. The experiments were made at the Edgar Thomson steel works, where every facility was given. The galvanometer could not be used for measuring comparative heats, because that instrument is at once affected by the movement of large masses of iron in its vioinity. The Ritchie type of photometer was employed; Prof. Langley described its construction and merits. In using it La was placed under great disadvantage from the continuous changes in the position of the Bessemer converter. The heliostat arrangement to give a beam of the snn for comparison, had to be as oontinnally shifted; the observer eat on a window sill in uncomfortable proximity to the furnace operations. The details of the experiment need not be given here. The first conclusion reached was that the sun's light, which turns the light from the molten steel into a black spot, must be at least fifty times the greater. Then the spectroscope was employed and the two rays compared. The steel rays were again blotted out. Hence the sun's rays must have been at least sixty-four times brighter. Next T.on/?lon modo (i/imnnrifinnR of th? X 1UI. J enn's rays with those from tho flame above the converter, when the latter were at their brightest. This was a less difBoult proceeding, and.furnished more specific results. The photometrio comparison could be made directly. It is admitted, however, that the flame light may not be quite so bright as that of the molten steel. The arrangement was somewhat like that of a camera obscura. It gave tho image of the sun so accurately that sun spots could be easily examined; it also gave an exact representation of the furnace flame. Each was alternately superposed on the other. The conclusion is that tho sunlight is at least 2,168 times brighter than the furnace flame. As the hent is presumably of tho same relative order, the result Is adverse to the law of Dulong and Petit. The actual heat of the sun is probably among the higher values that have been suggested. Novelties in Milliuery. Qlovo kid is coming into use for bonnets, says Harper's Bazar. A very few have been imported, but they are preferred by Parisiennes to the finest felfe or even velvet. One of pale rose pink has the fine rose kid drawn smoothly over the frame and trimmed -with ostrich tips and gros grain ol tho same shade. The Benoiton, or scarf of silk passed under the chin, is another novelty. This is a long width of soft twilled silk, either cardinal red, oream, or other shade of tho trimming of the bonnet, and is in many cases bordered with fur. It is sewed to the back of the bonnet low down on the crown, is passed around to the front, muffling the neck, and is fastened on the left side. Silver fox fur or else marabout feathers trim the handsomest Benoitons. The square figured basket woven silks are aiso used for this purpose. Some of the newest French hats, especially those of plush or felt, have an edge of fur that borders the face; gray and black furs are most used. White plush, velvet, or soft felt hats chosen for dress by young ladies who dress richly. They have broad crowns, high but not pointed, are very shore behind, and are trimmed around the crown " 1 ui? Willi & pjfUTCU HULTit Jl* UA locc niiiiuniuQ is dark velvet of some becoming shade, or else a fringe of ostrich feathers very mnch curled. The newest French felts are of the tilleul shade, a greenish cream tint, trimmed with the samo color, and contrasted with pale blue or with dark damask red. Oream colored felts have cardinal puffings under the brim, with many upturned loops of ribbon outside; the ends of the ribbon are also turned upward, and are cat into five or six sawteeth points. The pointed Mother Goose crowns and one sided bonnets have become so commonly worn that fashionable milliners are furnishing their customers with more quiet looking bonnets with broader crowns, or else regular capotes. Felt bonnets are very popular, notwithstanding the outcry against them made at the beginning of the season. The Life of a Reporter. I reported on a morning newspaper three years, says Mark Twain, and it was pretty hard work. But I enjoyed its attractions. Reporting is the best school in tho world to get a knowledge of human beings, human nature and human ways. A nice, gentlemanly reporter?I make no differences?is well treated by everybody. Just tninK. 01 mo wide range of his acquaintanceship, his experience of life and society. No other occupation brings a man into such familiar social relations with all the grades and classes of people. The last thing at night?midnight?he goes browsing around after items among the police and jailbirds in the lockup, questioning the prisoners and making pleasant and lasting friendships among somn of the worst people in tho world. And tho very next ovening he gets himself up regardless of expense, puts on all the good clothes his friends iiave got, goes and takes dinner with the governor or com- i mander-in-chief of the district, the j United States senator and some ox the | upper crust of society. He is on good terms with all of them, and is present at every gathering, and has easy acceK3 to every variety of people. Why, I breakfasted almost every morning with the governor, dined with the principal clergyman and slept in the station house. * ?v.oq tn Ha a littlfi. of course. a. IDJLA^A VSJJL uuu wvr ? ? , , or they would discharge him. That is why I left it. I am different from Washington. I have a grander and higheT standard of principle. Washington could not lie. I can lie, but I won't. Keporting is fascinating, but then it is so distressing to have to lie so. Lying is bad?lying is very -bad. Every individual knows that by experience. I think that for a man to tell a lie?when he cannot make anything by it?is wrong. Countlug the Fotes. In 1865 Congress adopted a joint rule that if any member of either House should object to the certificate of the result of tha Presidential election in any State, both Houses ehould withdraw and vote upon the question without delay, and unless both Houses concurred, the certificate should be rejected. But this rule has been repealed, and there is now no provision for the settlement of such a question, should it be raised. The resuit of the present election is so close, and the probability of some such question is so evident, that the first duty of Congress upon re assembling will be to make provision for the contingency. The differing political sentiment of the Houses may make suoh action more difficult, but it should not seriously embarrass it. At present, if one House should protost against the result as declared, and withdraw, the validity of the election that might be announced would be questioned. The Constitution provides that the president of the Senate shall open the certificates, count the votes in the presence of the Senate and the House, and declare the result. This seems to imply the assent and acquiescence of both Houses, and the protest and non-conourrence of either might lead to confusion and trouble. " 1 dMt L_;_i _?*.V,n xne rrne 01 jlockj uerwuxujr oipo mu country to some risks. If, for instance, the result is any election had depended upon New York, and objection were made upon the ground of frand, but really for a mere party purpose, and it were sustained by a party majority in either House, the temptation would be very strong to raise a similar objection in the other House upon similar, party grounds, and to sustain it in the same way and for the same purpose. The re ception of the whole electoral vote was < .hus exposed to the whim of party spirit. It is assumed, however, by our system of government, that there are i good sense and patriotism enough in the American people to curb the perils i of unbridled party spirit, and the action of Congress, we have no doubt, will justify that faith. Some method might be suggested under which, if objection i be made to any State return, the ground should bt stated, and the question referred to a oommittee of equal numbers < from both Houses. They should make a speedy report, and, in case of disagreement, they might call in the chief a j or>iitrafnr Th? ^flniainn should be final. Any plan that could i be devi ed would be open to objection. But friotion and inconvenience and compromise would bo very much better than any failure to determine. The problem is not in itself difficult. Its solution demands only honest patriotism and loyalty in Congress; and if they do not exist there, the country is i much more unfortunate than we believe. It is foolish for either party to insist at this time that the other is not willing to abide by the decision of the majority. If, for instance, the result of the election depends upon the vote of Louisiav.s, the sole question is, For whom were the majority of the votes in that State cast ? Fraud can be assumed upon either side, and the assumption proves nothing. Tho previous action of the present returning board has indeed laid it under suspicion. But a careful survey of the canvass of votes by prominent representatives will satisfy the country. The declarations of the President were most admirable, and worthy of the chief magistrate. All that honorable Republicans and Demoorats wish to know is the fact as it is.? Har per'a wee my. Yankee ys. Jap. Looking at the pottery in the Japanese bazaar, says a Centennial letter writer, I espied a flower pot which struck my fancy, and I inquired the price. * " Four dollaire," was the response of the youthful Jap. The price suiting as well as the article, I determined to take ifc on my way out, and in the afternoon again approaohed the bazaar with that object. This time there was a leathery old Oriental in attendance, with a face like that of a wrinkled old monkey, who, being asked the price, answered : " Eight dollaire 1" "No," I said, throwing up four fingers, " it was four dollars this morning." The old heathen opened a mouth like a slit in a side of sole leather, and displaying a row of yellow fangs, ejaou IttLCU "Oh, noa, he is eight dollaire." As I retreated, I noticed in the little garden which surrounds the bazaar the same kind of flower pot, in some of which were plants, and I tried the custodian of these, a sober, chestnut complexioned Jap. " How much are those?" " Six dollaire." Again I explained they were four dollars in the morning, but was only answered by a quiet grin, and? " Six dollaire." Approaching the bazaar once more, I waited until the withered old swindler was called away for a few minutes, and then hailing the youngest and most amiable faced Jap 1 could select, I touched the flower pot and asked : "How much?" The yonthfnl son of Japan picked it up, looked at it, trying to estimate its valne, and then turning to me said, evidently at hazard : " Four dollaire an half." And I carried it off at the fourth price at which'it had been offered me during 1 the day. A French Lore Story. Marie Gauthier, a rich heiress, befcween fifteen and sixteen years of age, , who lived with her parents at St. Me- , dard, was the object of many hopes , umong the eligible yonng men of the neighborhood. In addition to these, one especially ineligible sighed for the gilded boauty. His name was Theophile , Parceau, his ago eighteen, and his ' parents were humble cultivators of a J small farm. His education had been j. good, but feeling that he could not hope I to obtain the consent of the girl's fath- j er, he entered his household as a ser- : vant, with a view of daily being seen and heard by her. Within a month the heiress received his declaration and , warmly responded to it, and the couple eloped. Theophile bad made a confidant of a young man, Jules Gatinaud, who was engaged to marry his sister, and seeking the couple in their retreat, he told them ihat the police were searching for them, and that there was no alternative but a temporary separation. He advised Theophile to escape, and offered to cany Mile. Gauthier back to her father. Theophile acted upon his advice, but , Gatinaud, instead of performing his promise, took the young lady to a wayside tavern, and thenoe, on tbe next day, to his father's house, ana requeeiea the latter to call on Mons. Gauthier and offer to find his daughter if he would promise to give heL hand to his son. But Gauthier refused; Mile. Gauthier was, however, soon discovered and taken home. Theophile was also found, and both he and Gatinaud were arrested. The parents of Gatinaud were likewise arrested, but they were acquitted. Theophile was condemned to two years' imprisonment, and Gatinaud to three years, ' On the Situation, The London limes has a strong proRussian leading editorial article o \ the Eastern question. It first notices the slow progress toward an agreement abont a conference and its basis, facts which are clearly not promising for its success, but declares that the worst symptom is a disposition to prescribe beforehand conditions inoompatible with ideas of negotiation and compromise. It cites as thus inconsistent with the idea of a conference, the stipulation that there must be no limitation of the sultan's sovereign will. But those who labor for peace, it says, will not lose heart because the prospect is not perfectly clear. The Times condemns past British policy and says : "If Austria and Great Britain had known their interests last year, they would have arrested any extension of this difficulty by promoting what was then a comparatively easy settlement." It then proceeds to forecast the future in this wise : " Supposing the armistice expires without a conference, or the conference fails, the czar would declare war, disavowing, probably, a desire to add to the Russian dominions, or any other object than securing good government for her Slavonic brethren. Many would say that this was mere hypocrisy and falsehood, but it is clear that England could find no pretense for interference until much more had happened than the outbreak of such a war for snch an avowed DurDOse. The time might come, when we, declaring to the | sultan our regret at the inevitable partition of his dominions, might be obliged to demand that he should resign Constantinople to a power able to take care of it." The says it doea not suppose it would come to. this. The czar would stop before he provoked a crisis calling for England's intervention. With Servia aggrandized and independent, and with Boumania independent and aggrandized south of the Danube in exchange for territory ceded to Russia on the north, he would stop well contented with what he had done in a work, the completion whereof must be left for another time. But what a result this would be of a polioy having for its first note the maintenance of the independence and integrity of the Ottoman empire. What we have described is the probable course of events to which we must look forward if the armistice ex pires without peace being proclaimed. Without Baying that under no circumstances could a shot be fired from English cannon, this much may be unhesitatingly declared : that if Bussia took up the war from Servia's failing hands, English opinion would no more justify armed opposition to Bussia, than it did justify armed opposition to Serria, and the diplomacy of Bussia would show itself altogether -deficient in the sagacity attributed to it if it did not so describe the objects of the war and restrict its operations as io prevent the occurrence of any sufficient reason for our interfering. The Price of Beef. The New York Times has the following : If American beef can be sent from here to England?a distance of three thousand miles?and retailed in the London market for nine pence, say seventeen cents per pound, surely it should not sell here for from twenty to thirty cents per pound. And be it remembered, only the very choicest Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky, and Missouri cattle are used for export; the common sort, more especially rough Texans, being exoJuded. This promising addition to our export trade is comparatively new, constantly growing, and ia likely soon to attain vast proportions. It has already attained an average of about one hundred carcases a day?roughly estimated at $75 per carcase?making a total daily export amounting in value to 87,500. Is it not a monstrous anomaly that American beef should be retailed in London at lower rates than are charged for it here ? All cotton goods show a great advance and decline from the beginning of the war down to the present time. New York Mills, which sold f<*r twelve and a half cents in 1861, and are offered for the same price per yard today, were advanced to eighty cents at one time during the war. Wamsutta goods, which sold for twelve cents a yard in 1861, were advanced to seventy cents in war times, ?nd are now offered at the old prioe. Printed cotton goods or calicoes are selling to-day in the lower standard grades at a reduction from the prices of 1860. Merrimacks, which sold for ten and twelve cents a yard in 1860, and twenty-eight and thirty cents during the war, are now offered retail at six and a quarter cents a yard. Garner's sell to-day at six and a quarter cents a yard, the same price as in 1861, and so ? 11?~V? Tnkrtln Aflfalnorno. UH (LUVUgUUUU urn ituviu Prime outs of beef sold before the war for twelve and a half cents per pound. To-day they are selling at from twenty to thirty cents per pom*? in this market. The Eastern Question. The following is the text of a speech delivered by the ozar of Russia at Moscow: " I thank you for your sentiments respecting the political situation, which is now more clearly defined than before. You know that Turkey has yielded to my demands for an immediate armistice to end the useless slaughter in Servia and Montenegro. In this unequal struggle the Montenegrins, as heretofore, have shown themselves real heroes. Unfortunately the saa e cannot be said of the Servians, notwithstanding the assistance of our volunteers, many of whom shed their blood for the Slavonic causo. I know that all Russia joins me in warmly sympathizing in the sufferings of our brethren and co-religionists. The true interests of Russia are, however, dearei to me than all. My wish to the attermost is to spare Russian blood. Therefore, I have striven and will stil * * 1 *- - ? -?1 nf Strive to OOiaill It rem im^u?om'3u? V> the position of the Christians by peaceful means. In a few days negotiations will commence at Constantinople. My most ardent wish is that we may arrive at a general agreement; should this, however, not be achieved, and should I see that we cannot obtain guarantees necessary for carrying out what we intended to demand from the Porte, I am flrmly determined to act independently. I am convinced that the whole of Russia will respond to my summons should I consider it necaF3ary, and Russia's honor requires it. Moscow will lead the van by its example. May God help us to carry out our sacred mission." Chinese Cheap Labor. The testimony taken by the Chinese commi -:sion in San Francisco in reference to the shoe trade was very interesting. A manufacturer testified that four years ago the average wages of journeymen shoemakers ranged from $24 to $c>0 a week, whereas at present they are able to earn only from 816 to $18 a week. This reduction is attributed to the employment of Chinese journeymen. The price of Chinese labor in San Francisco, he paid, was on a levol with that of white abor in New England. An assistant forewoman in a factory in which 300 Chinese journeymen were hired, stated that twenty-three young women were also employed on nppers. They did not like to work with the Chinese, but starvation was the alternative. There were hundreds of unemployed white women in the city who would gladly take the place of the Chinese, and they could certainly work with greater rapidity. A Burglar Shot and JLliiea. Mr. Joseph B. Pitzer, of Zio^.svillo, Boone county, India' a, with bis shotgun diminished the number of burglars infesting Indianapolis and neighborhood by one. At a late hour at night Mr. Pitzer was awakened by a noise in the rear of his residence, which proved to be made by burglars climbing upon the kitchen. They removed the upper sash of the gable window opening out upon the roof of the kitchen, and through the window gained access to the main build- * "* ing. They passed from the room first entered down the stairway into the hall and parlor. Their movements wefe heard by Mr. Pitzer, who hurriedly dressed himself and Armed himself with his shotgun. He took the precaution to* add to the load of birddhot in the gun a few buokshot. He then went to a side j door on the east side of the house where : he could oommand a view of the kitchen t and the probable exit of the burglars. He passed out of this door to a small porch, and as he stepped from the porch a man advanced cautiously toward him, stooping as if to conceal himself, evidently not being aware of Mr. P.'s presence. He soon disoovere I Mr. P., however, and started up, and, as Mr. Pitzer thought, attempted to draw a pistol. Mr. P. immediately fired upon him with, as it afterward proved, fatal effect. The man disappeared behind the house, and Mr. Pitzer returned to his room and remained on guard until daylight. After breakfast he started for the barn to feed his horse, and- in the barnyard found the dead ooay 01 the man npon whom he had fired the night before. The shot had taken effect in the breast and nock. The verdict of the jury was that the deceased came to his death by a'gunahot wound by the hands of Joseph B. Pitzer, while in the attempt to felonionsly rob the honse of the said Joseph B. Pitzer. People recognized the dead burg?ar to be Charley Brown, a professional thief. Mr. Pitzer is a well known and wealthy citizen of Boone county, and it is possible the burglars, knowing his circumstances, believed he had a con- . siderable sum of money in the house. Presidential Contests. Five Presidential elections in which the vote of some one State might have changed the result occurred in the United States out of the twenty-two from 1789 to 1872. In 1876, when the State legislatures chose the electors, Adams had only a majority of two over Jefferson, the vote being seventy-one to sixty-nine. In 1812 President Madison was chosen over De Witt Clinton by 128 to eighty-nine. In this contest the vote of either Pennsylvania (twenty-three) or Virginia (twenty-three) would have made De Witt Clinton President In 1824 t^e full" electoral vote of New York (thirty-four) would have given Andrew Jackson a majority of all the votes cast. As it was he received only one vote from New York 8tate, and the election devolved upon the House of Kepresentatives. The contest in 1844 was exceedingly close. Polk received 170 votes ; Clay, inc Inoo nf Vatr Ynrlr rthirtr.fonr -LUU. 1UO 1UUU WA *1 w votes) was fatal to Henry Clay. Polk's plurality in the State was only 5,106?no that a change of 2,554 votes would have secured the election of Henry Oluy. At the sixteenth .Presidential eioctiou (1848), the vote of New -York (thirtyfour). or Pennsylvania (twenty-four) would have given Cass a majority over Taylor. Buchanan won in 1856 by fiftytwo votes. Without the aid of Pennsylvania be would have had only 148 votes ?the exact number necessary to a choice. Had Pennsylvania gone Republican in October, his defeat was inevitable. Lincoln received, in 1860, 180 votes, against 123 for his opponents. Notwithstanding his great plurality, he needed the vote of New York to give him a majority of all the votes cast. Henceforth small as well as large States may deem themselves of great account. A. Deadly Pool. Some remarkable statements were made at an inquest held at Bury, Lancashire, England, reoently, respecting a mill stream lodge"known as " Old Charley's Lodge," or "The Hatter's Ceme tery," in whioh a young woman agt.u nineteen drowned herself. The lodge, it seems, is in the midst of a thickly , populated neighborhood, and is not protected by any fenoe. The water being warm, it offers unusual temptation to suicide, and owing to its unguarded condition, it is also the scene of many fatal accidents to yorag children, who fall into it while playing on tho banks. The coroner said he considered it " a publio scandal" that "Old Charley's Lodge" was not fenced off in some way. He had himself held inquests on the bodies of from fifteen to twenty persons who had met with their deaths in chat lodge, and he understood that altogether npward of fifty bodies had been taken out of it. Hfe did not think there was another place in the kingdom to equal it. This is a mistake. The ponds on Hampstead Heath claim to have destroyed more human lives tlrnn any other piece of water of a similar size in Great Britain, aijd the number of bodies taken out of them is almost beyond calculation. "Old Charley's Lodge" is, however, beycnd doubt a most deadly pool, and a police constable present at the inquest stated that it was a oommon saying in the borough: "I'll go to Old Charley's Lodge," or "Go to Old Charley's Lodge "?tho first being i ^oanaiyi thfl HUAOnd of an expicofuuu Ui ? brutality. The coroner, with the hearty concurrence of the jury, suggested that he should himself write to the owner of the lodge on the subject with the view of having it fenced off; and it in to be hoped that this letter will have the desired effect. Yisit Your Parents. Never allow weather or want of time * ? ? or considerations ui cipeuoo uj. wmonience prevent it, short and oiten if in the same town, or if at a distance, make it a point now and then to go back to the old home, and talk about old times, and tell them how you are doing. They are old now, and are very much alone. There are no young people about the house to attract others, and mo3t of those of their own age have passed away; they need some break iu the loneliness of their homes; every vidit of a child is pore happiness, and when the message comes, "They aie dead," your first regret will bo that you had not done more to make them happy, and to smooth their pathway to their last reliting place. A Law Abiding Citizen. A little old lady, wrapped with blanket shawls almost to suffocation, stopped off from one of the ferry boats at Detroit and appeared desirous of interviewing some person. As there were no handboxes, baskets, or bundles visible, tiie nnct/Mn ttnnsn officers paid no attention to her until after a he "had lingered on the wharf l'or fully half an hour. At last an officer inquired if she was looking for any person, and she replied that she had been '* making some 2inrcha:jefl across the river, and wanted some of the government chaps to inspect the good4." Mr. Thompson offered to perform the service, when he was gratified with, * view of two kittens whoso eyes were not yet open. Soffioe it to my, no duty *ra.i demanded ;!