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1 The Beaufort igp Republican. AX INDEPENDENT FAMILY NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO POLITICS, LITERATURE, AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. OUR MOT!0 I>-TRUTH WITHOUT FEAR. VOL. III. NO. 6. BEAUFORT, S. C., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 1872. IgS^SSS The Ballad of Hiram Hover. Where the Moosatockmagnntir Ponrs its waters in the Skuntic, Met along the forest side Hiram Hover, Huldah Hyde. she, a maiden fair and dapper ; He, a red-haired, stalwart trapper, Hunting beaver, fox and skunk, In the woodlands of Bqucedunk. She, Pentncket's pensive daughter, Walked beside the Skuntic water, Gathering, in her apron wet. Snake-root, mint and bouncing-bet. " Why," he murmured, loth to leave her, "Gatheryarbs for chills and fever, When a lovyer, bold and true, 0.?;ly waits to gftthcr yon ?" "Go," she answered, " I'm not hasty ; I preler a man more tasty ; Leastways, one to please me woll Should not hare a beastly smell." 4i Haughty Huldah," Hiram answered, " Hind and heart alike are cancered; Just look here! these peltries give Cash wherefrom a pair may live. " I, yon think, am but a vagrant, Trapping beasts by no meaus fragrant; Yet?I'm sure it's worth a thank? I've a handsome sum in bank." Turned and vanished Hiram Hover ; And, before the year was over, Huldah, with the yarbs she sold, Bought a cape against the cold. Black and thick the furry cape was, Of a stylish cut the shape wrfs ; And the girls, in all the town, Envied Huldah up and down. Then at last, one winter morning, Hiram came without a warning ; " Either,'.' said he, " you are blind, Huldah, or you've changed your mind. " Me, you snub for tracking varmints, Yet you take tbe skins for garments ; Sinee you wear the skunk and mink. There's no harm in me I think." " Well," sai dshe, " we will not quarrel, Hiram, I accept the moral; New the fashion's bo, I guess I can hardly do no less." Thus the trouble ali was over Of the love ot Hiram Hover; Thus ho made sweet Huld&h Hyde Hnldah Hover as his bride. l.ove employs, with equal favor. Things of good and evil savor; That which first appeared to part Y?"armed at last the maiden's heart. Under one immortal banner, I.ife, the hunter, love, the tanner, Draw, from every beast they tnare, Comfort lor a wedded pair ! A SKETCH FRO* LIFE. On the moorland in the sunset hour, and it is all ruddy and golden hued. There is a busy, plashing little water fall running heedlessly on its way from the hills to the s?a. It knows no pain, nor ill, and it passes every object un heeded by ; away it goes, madly, indifferently. carelessly. Surely ou all the moorlaud. and in all wide Nature, there is nothiug souusympatlnsiug as this one little burn, which hurries 'carelessly through the copse of birch trees. Fust along the rough path into the nest of trees ; there, standing on the banks of the burn are feeble, tottering walls. Every stone of them is genererally letting go its hold on its neighbor. Clearly this tells of a time that is past. Only ruins of old cottages, nothing more ! and fliey yet hold to the old place, and cry on Nature arouud for sympathy. And the birch trees cluster over them, clasping and twining their weird fantastic arms above, and the briars and honeysuckles h >ng lovingly auu picturesquely about them, and the birds build theii nests there, and they sit in the birch tree* overhead aud siug their songs. Oatside tue walls grows the bracken fern, which turns golden in Autumn ; and inside, where once were odd little room.", where children's voices and footsteps echoed, is now a purple garden of heather with deeply-set roots. Over all there is an utter stilluess. l'ass on, and on the steep hillside you will see another cottage, with the ground on one side of it so sloping that it is on a level wi th the roof. It is only separated from the ruins by the plashing burn. In the sunset glow which comes glid. ing through the trees, there is a wonderful color about this roof; it is thached with brown red heather, and is a perfect garden of feathery gras&ft, golden flowers and ruddv leaves. Rising up from among them is a tlun line of blue, curling snioke ; and this was all there was to tell that this cottage had aught to do with life. Before the sun had quite disappeared behind the hills, an old woman descended toward the cottage. She stood in the sunlight, in tier short gray homespun petticoat and brown jacket. On her i 1?L : j ~ i i ^l.i Dae* sue carrieu u targe uuuuie 01 gumeQ tinged bracken, and the sunlight played among it. She stood waiting and looking in the direction of the cottage, for a stranger stood there looking about him. There was about as great a contrast between them as can well be imagined, for while the old woman seemed to be part and parcel of the old cottage, the stranger was a young man, evidently a touiist. He advanced to the old woman, and told her that he had come to see her and her house. Then she extended a hand to him, and without another word she threw the bracken on the ground and set herself down beside it on the grass, and clasped her hands around her knees. The sti anger sit down beside her, an 1 aske 1 her whether she had lived long alone in the cottage. Sli told him that she lived with Mary, but that Mary was out, and that .Mary was so deaf that she was quite useless, and that she had no English. In the meantime the old woman, who was talking, had a somewhat peculiar English of her own ; she translated from - Gaelic, and as there is no "it" in that lanfuige, it occasioned some confusion of gen ler. Mary, she was always spoke of as "he." She told the stranger that Mary thatched the house, sowed their tield, looked after thocow and did everything. He gave his opinion that Mary mi s-. be very clever. "Oa aye, he's rael clever," was the answer. "And do you two live here quite alone ? "Why, this house if? a mile or two from any road. How old are you?" "Eighty-eight," was the answer. "And how old is Mary ?" "Weel, he'll be eighty-four, or eightysix, or eighty-seven, I canna tell; onj way, he's four years younger nor me." "And you two lire here quite alone, i I)o you never weary ?'* "Weary, och, no ! I never weary." And then she told a great many cf the concerns of their dairy life. In speak iug of the cow, she said that he had taken u habit of waadering which was very troublesome to Mary in the gloaming ; that sometimes he would keep them up till eleven o'clock at night, when he would return ; then he milked him and went to bed. Rut they had little comfort in bed she said, for the rats were so terribh *troug that they had to lie in bed with sticks to drive them off; even the cats tied in terror at the sight of them. She also mentioned that once all the cats had kittens at the same time : the number of kittens was therefore greater than desired, and she took them all in her aprou to a pool in the burn whereiu she 1 A,>/v nviYt* *'Rnf ^ all* uepusueu bur jruuuii Uv, uu. added, "they did na like the water, an' 1 rouldna ran after them, and they were hame again before me. It was strange to note the difference in the two faces, as they sat and talked side oy side, whilst the sun disappeared behind the hills. That of the young man was smooth and well cared for; an unobservant face, with no remarkable feature or expression. The old woman's face was wriskied, withered, and weather-beaten to the utmost degree; but she was eightyeight, and had lived perhaps more out ot doors and in all weathers, than indoors; every wrinkle aad line in her face told a tale of labor and hard work?perhaps ot suffering and hardships; for here were two women on the lone'hillside, far away from all friendship and assistance, toiling, planting and gathering, thatching eveD their own house, and doing everything for themselves to keep life going, although their days were more than threescore years and ten. Whilst she talked, her eyes wandered carelessly over the roof and across the burn to the ruins, but she ever now and then looked enriously at the stranger; on one feature of her face Time had strangely spared his ravages; her eyes were still verv blue and almost bright Plainly enough, they must have been beautiful in their day. The stranger asked her whether she would give him a light for his pipe, and she instantly arose from the ground with an agility that was snrprising, and led tlrfe way to the house. " Have these cottages been standing in ruins long ?w he inquired. "It will be perhaps thirty years since they were lived in," she said ; and, without once looking at them, she entered the house. It was a wonderful interior, which at first impressed you with the idea that the whole place was going to fall about your ears. There were two beds, approached I Kv o in thp wfllP ami thev looked dark and dreadful inside. Along the roof were shelves tilled with all kinds of things, among which were Gaelic books over two hnndred years old. The stranger filled his pipe, and offered tobacco to the old woman, which sh* took, and with her wrinkled hands filled her own pipe, and sat down on the stone floor, and with her knees up to her chin, smoked ; every fresh position she took, a perfect picture. Even over the careless strauger came an impression that the woman and her cot age were entirely in keeping with one another, and tnat neither of them seemed to belong to the present day. By and by some one entered, and the stranger looked up, and concluded that this was Mary. It was a woman with short grey petticoat and brown jacket, a sturdy, powerful frame, and with almost masculine movements. She instantly advanced with a smile and held out a hand to the stranger, whom she greeted most cordially, although she had never seen him before, and knew nothing about him. It was, of course, impossible te guess what her face might have been in youth. Now it seemed coarse and stupid, and her movements were ungainly; but about the face of Maggie, the elder one, there was somethiag which attracted you, you scarce knew why, and her movements were per feet, weird and strange a3 they were. "Will ye tak' milk?" she inquired of the stranger, and without waiting for an answer, she cried out to Mary, who was still standing smiling beside the stranger, j " Get a bowl." Mary was, however, very deaf, and at first did not hear, and Maggie again cried out with a marvellous power of lungs, " Get a bowl! " this time with success, f >r Mary turned about and directly fetched ; a bowl from the dresser, and apparently understanding all that was desired, filled it with rich creamy milk. Whilst she was thus occupied, Maggie told the stranger that Mary had two days ! before walked to Brodick and back, sis miles each way, and that she had bought a loaf of bread, and ou coming home had ; placed it on the shelf above the bed : but the next morning they found that the rats ! had been busy with it in the night and had not left them one scrap of it. The stranger asked them whether they would not like to go down and live in the , village amongst people; but they told him they had lived all their lives where they were, and that it would be impossible for them to live for a day amongst "people," and that it would kill them to hear children's voices. ! The stranger thought them a queer old ( An nln on/1 than t aal? hia /lano??tni?o TVia \ uuaiiu uaii n/ua 1110 uvj'ai tuiu. uiw two old women 9toed at the door watching him go. whilst the sun had passed the hill tops and was bidding good-night with | the purple and gold lights down the glens ; the moorland looked gray and cold, aid they returned indoors and closed the door behind them, without so much asone look on the ruins on the other side of the brawling burn. T1 e/ never looked across to them, never wandered round them in the gloaming. thinking of auld lang syne, and yet long ago they had loved and lived there, at the time when there had been many j other houses on the hillside, in the long dead days when Maggie and Mary were blooming lassies, and had lovers in plenty. And there was a strange history cencerning these two old women, for they ' I were not sisters, or even relations; it I wis only incidents which "had happened in youth that had brought them together. In tho3o days Maggie was the bonnier of the two, but Mary had her full share of good looks, and a light, merry nature which perhaps drew her more admire] 8 than fell to Maggie's share, and Mar> divided her smiles pretty equally amongst them all; but after a time she became engaged to a certain Alist?r McPhail, and for a time he was somewhat the most tavored of the train. Bat only for a time, for Mary was somewhat changeable in her affections, and although she had promised her hand to Alister McPhail, she still encouraged the rest to follow her about and pay her attentions. But there came a day when Alister wearied altogether of this treatment, and then he fell in love with Maggie. One night Mary dreamed a dream that Alister was lyiDg dead amongst the birch trees, and that she plainly saw his body lying stiff by the light of the aurora borealis. So strong was the impression thai she rose, dressed herself, and went away out into the night. There, as in her dream, the aurora was flashing and flaming across the sky from the north, and at a short distance the copse of birch trees. Into this she weni us fast as possible; as if led on by a magic hand, along the little footpath by the ournside. In the silence of the night she plainly heard voices talking, and by the light of the aurora she perceived two figures leaning against the trees. It was Alister and Maggie talking of the love chey bore one another, and Mary overheard the words. Under those broken boughs there was a terrible scene that night; hard words spoken and sore hearts left; and for many a day there were black clouds between .the two girls. But it was not very long before Mary's lightsome nature again changed, and she found out that she liked Peter Black better than any one. This was a partner in a fishing smack with Alister McPhail, and she became engaged to him, and laughed at herself tor the anger she had felt with Maggie and Alister. So the clouds cleared off, and there was every prospect of peace and happiness, for Alister and Maggie loved one another trnly and well. But when things looked brightest and happiest; when the two girls were looking forward to the day that was to see them both married to those that they loved ; a great blapk clond a$>so without warning or notice; and burst upon their heads. A few days before that fixed for their marriage, Peter and Alister were both drowned in the smack in a terrible storm at sea. The two girls thus drawn together, clung to one another from that day. They made n ? vows never to part, only they felt that their lives were to be passed together. They lived with Maggie's aunt, until she died at the age of a hundred and three. Neighbors about then died; the house? about them fell into decay and ruin; gradually the places where they had stood knew them no more; only the ivy and birch trees kept standing a few walls of the house where Alister and Peter had lived. The cluster of houses were all swept away; the dwellers in them dead and forgotten ; only these two lived on, drawn together by the strange bond made in youth, keeping the old house above their hoAds by the labor of their own hands : the hard working hands which had toiled side by side through life towards death. What a 6trange thing is life ! that two blocming lasses, hope, and vigor, youth and love, should -cotne to be these two old women with every leeling numb or dead, struggling and working for no end but to carry their existence through another day. Did a second thought ever crow them as they walked through the copse of birch trees, or did they ever watch the dashing, flaming aurora borealis. Does Maggie, the old woman of nearly ninety, ever think of youth and love, and Alister ? Does Mary ever think at all ot those old days ? Time to Study.?Undoubtedly the best time for self improvement comes to us in our youth. Life is so short that but little can be accomplished without a careful husbandry of what there is of it. Two hours in the morning and two in the evening, devoted daily to study, will make a wide difference in a single season between a young man who adopts this practice, and one of equal natural capacity who sleeps through his mornings, and dissipate*, or even idles away his evenings. The eatly morning hours are favorable to I nf. o,1t. vrmnrr nmn adont- the nmuj. ?IJ j x- - practice of two hours systematic reading before breakfast, lor six months of the year, and he will find that he has acquired in that time knowledge which he would not part with for any price. Something? a cup of coffee, for instance, or a piece of bread and butter- should always be taken before beginning to road. Study upon an entirely empty stomach is too exhausting to the system. Try the experiment of rising in winter, and study or reading bofoie breakfast, and you will never wish to give it up. This is all important to young men whose habits are not yet formed. It will make a wide difference to them in the degree of intelligence which they will possess, and in the character and staudiDg which they will acquire in the community. The Experience of as Editor.?The editor of the Arizona Miner says: "It will soon be ten years since we first arrived in tbis Territory, and, in looking back over our long residence here, memory fails te point out one week in which one or more white men have not been murder * 1 T rolnnKlo nrn. 1 t?Q UJ illUliUJ>, UHU IU nuim laiuuuiv. (..w perty has not been stolen or destroyed by the same people. For five years of this time our duty as editor ot this paper has compelled as to record most of the bloody deeds that have been enacted, as well as to note and comment on the losses that Lave been sastained by our citizens. And again, it has (alien to our lot to view the mangled remains of many of the victims of savage ferocity, to feel (or those whose last dollar's worth of property was taken from them; to lose property of our own; to be made a target of by Apaches; to be ou the watch against 6urpnse, and to have our hair erect itself, and to stand tide and walk in (ear and trembling of the lurking savages. Need wo say, then, that we arc tired of this state of affairs, tired of the unpleasant duty it has forced us to perform [ Scarcely." A matter-of-fact Danbuiian fceing asked if he saw Kibeestein wh?i in Nev York, vacantly responded ; " "Why, no ffas he looking for me ?v i Oxeu us a Substitute Tor Horses. The all-absorbing horse question has! reached that point, where from discussing t the proper remedy for the disease, we f advance to the consideration ot' what ( means may enable us to escape in future 1 the delay and inconvenience attending i the withdrawal of so many horses from 1 service. We find, in Hon. Erastus C. i Benedict's interesting work, " A Run J Through Europe," the following account i of the use of oxen in Ttaly. What is < there to prevent such an employment of \ them here? i " I noticed here what I do no! remem- < her to have ever seen in a city before. I 1 had seen oxen nsed more variously than with us. In crossing the Appenines, a 3 yoke of oxen was added for an extra pair < of leaders to take our diligence up the 1 mountain steeps, which was a little odd. In Italy I had often seen an ox harnessed i sometimes with a horse, and sometimes < with a donkey?but here in Trieste oxen : appear to be the usual beasts of burden 1 for the dray service of the streets?and, 3 what struck ine as a useful economy for 3 the drayman of small means, was the < practice of working a single ox, as we work a single horso in the cart or dr^y 1 service of our cities. A single ox hardly i costs a quarter the price of a good horse, will draw quite as large a load?is even 1 more reliable and trustworthy?is maintained at less expense?is more hardy and I patient, and, when his life ceases to be ' useful, his death brings back, in the price of beef, all his original cost. Here they 1 have the Roman mouse color, and are ' often crossed with the bnfFalo. Yon see them lying down at their drays, and chewing the cud all about the public wharves. The single ox is harnessed between the of hi* drnv. and in solitary useful ness moves solemnly through the streets and along the wharves, dragging his fourwheeled dray, the wheels not more than ! eighteen inches in diameter, and his wagon body, often a vast wicket basket of nnpeeled willow twigs, light strong, and capaeious. So, too, a p ir of oxen is worked in a long, low, narrow wagon. i Facts about Presidents. There are some very curious facts connected with the Presidents of the United States. Genera] Washington, the first President had no children. He was re elected. John Adams, the second President, had children?sons and daughters. < fie was notre-cleeted. Thomas Jeffersc ., his successor, had no sons, hut two daughters. He was rechosen. The fourth i President, James Madiapn, like Washington, had no children. He was re elected. The fifth, James Monroe, had a daughter but no son. lie was President eight years. After him came John Quincy Adams, who had children?sons and, we think, daughter. Ho failed of re-election. The seventh President, Andrew Jackson, had the fate of Washington and Madison, in being so unfortunate as to have no 1 descendants. Martin Tan Buren had sons, and was continued in office only a single term. Gen. Win. II. Harrison, his successor, had children of both sexes. lie died in one month after his inauguration. After him caino John Tyler, who had a family of sons and daughters. He was an aspirant for the Presidencv, but was defeated. Then came James K. Polk, whose domestic condition was that of Washing- 1 ton, Madison and Jackson?lie had no children. General Taylor, who followed him. died in office, fifteen months after his 1 accession. He had both sons and daughters, one of the latter of whom was the first wife of Jefferson Davis. The thir- j1 teenth President, Milliard Fillmore, had j a daughter, but no son. He was not re-1 elected. Franklin Pierce, when he came to the Presidential chair, was a childless man. So also was the fifteeuth President, i James Buchiman, who was a bachelor. Abraham Lincoln, who succeeded him. had children, both sons and daughters, and he was twice chosen President. An- 1 drew Johnson had ohildren of both sexes, ' and was not re-elected. Grant has both ' sons and daughters. 1 English Farm Laborers.- The Mark Lane Express, says the condition of the laborer continually comes to the surface, and this difficulty is gradually but certain ly assumiug a new complexion. The laborer's case is no longer a matter for mas ter and man to adjust, but it has been found necessary to look down a little deeper. There are certain contingencies beyond the actual amount of wages which go to make a good and resp ctable woikman, and the very first of such essentials is a decent and " handy" home. For some years past on many of the large landed properties in England a systematic effort has been made in precisely the opposite direction. The aim has been not to Identify the men with the place, but to lot liirn understand that when his day's work i? ' - 1 - -".-1 1 lr ?ir (li)lic, tIl<? sooner ue liiae* uiuim-ji mi, the further he goes, the better. Nothing could naturally for all sorts of reasons b worse than this kind of wlicy. As the head of one of the labor organization" lately remarked, "it is not altogether a question of wages " A conspicious part of what is asked is " good cottages, sufficient water supply, garden spot", and, for men who have shown thrilt by saving i money, the opportunity of keeping a cow." English Paipehs.?An English Board f (iuardians has come to the conclusion, after patient investigation of the subject, that there inay possibly he a better plan of dealing with insane pa^j>ers than the one now in vogue in London, which i?. to place the lunatics under the treatment of the parish medical officer, with the stipulation that he is to be paid for hfs services if he fail to effect a cure, but is to receive nothing for the cases in which the paticrt gets well. We should hesitate to beli.ve that even official stupidity could have tolerated such a system, il we had the tact upon any less trustworthy authority thin that of the London l\'eirs. Califobxia axi> the Consumptive.? For the sportsman Southern California is a Paradise, and for the consumptive its air is almost as life-iriving as a d? aught trnm the macic Floridian fountain. Within a line or a few* miles he finds different conditions of the atmosphere, some one of which is certain to he exactly what he needs. All winter the days are mild and bright, the gardens are full of flowers, and the grass is green. There are warm medicinal springs in which to bathe ; the roads are good, and horses are . to be had cheaply everywhere; the r invalid does what he pleases; and with ; the exercise and the delicioas air he rarely falls to get a new 2*1* 01 utt / ! Daniel Webster's First Plea. Ebenezer Webster, father of Daniel, ,vas n farmer. The vegetables in his jarden suffered considerably from the IcpredatioDS of a woodchuck, whose lold and habitation was near the premses. Daniel, some ten years old, and lis brother Ezekiel, had set a trap, and it last succeeded in catching the'trespasser. Ezekiel proposed to kill the mimal and end at ouee all further trouble &ith him; but Daniel looked with compassion upon his meek, dumb captive, md offered to let him go. The boys jmild not agree, and each appealed to his 'ather to decide the case. ''Well, my boys," said the old gentleman, "I will be Judge and you shall be jounsel to plead the case for and against iiis liberty." Ezekiel opened the case with a strong lrgumeat urging the mischievous nature jf the criminal, the great harm he had already done, said that much time and labor bad been spent in liis capture, and now, if suffered to go at large, he would renew his depredations, and bo cunning enough not to be caught again, and that he ought now to be put to death; that bis skin was of some value, and that, make the most of him they could, it would not repay half the damagS he had already done. His argument was ready, practical, and to the point, and of much greater length than our limit will allow us to occupy in relating the story. The father looked with pride upon his son, who became a distinguished jurist in his manhood. ''Now, Daniel, it's your turn; I'll lieai what you've got to say." It was his first case. Daniel saw that the plea ot his brother hud sensibly affected liis father, the judge; and his large, brilliant black-eyes rested upon the soft, tin id expression of the animal, and he saw it tremble with fear in its narrow prison house. His heart swclle-! with pity, and he appealed with eloquent words that the captive might go five, God, he said, had made the woodehuck He made him to live to enjoy the bright sunshine, the pure air, the fields and woods. God had not made him or anything in vain. The woodehuck h id as much right to live as any other living thing; he was not a destructive animal, like the wolf; he sirapiy ate a few common vegetables, of which they had plenty, and could well sparo a part; hf destroyed nothing except the little food he ate to su-tain his humble life; a d that little food was as sweet to him and as necessary to his existence a < was tc them the food on their mother's table. God furnished their own lood. Hcgavi them all they possessed, and would they not spare a little tor a dumb creature who re.illy had as much right to his smal! share of God's b juuty as they themselves had to their portion? Yea, more; the animal had never violated the laws ol his nature or the laws of God, as mac olten did, but strictly followed the simple instincts he had received from the hands of the Creator' of all things. Created by God's hands, he had a right from God to food, to liberty, and they had no right to deprive him of either. He alluded to the mute but earnest pleadings of the animal for that life, as deal to him as were their own, and the jndg raeut they might expect, if in selfiisli cruelty and cold-lieartedness they took the life they could not restore again. During the appeal the tears had started in the old man's eyes, and were fast running down his. sunburnt cheeks. Every feeling of a father's heart was nhtiHA.1 m'f Inn l??m on/1 11 ft ffllf f*<wl QlillILU 1V11IJJU 111 Hi} uu\i i j ^ iv/iu tuui v<v/m had blessed him bey on 1 the lot of common men. His pity was awakened by the eloqueut words of compassion auil the strong appeal for mercy; and, lor getting the judge in the man and tb< father, he sprang from his chair (whilt D miel was in the midst of his argument without thinking he had already won his cuie), and turniug to his eldest son, dashed the tears from his eyes, he ex claimed: ''Zeke, Zcke, you let that woodchuck go!" Autumn Leaves.?The leaves should be dried as rapidly as possible aftei gathering them, or they will soon lose rheir brilliant colors. They may b( placed between the leaves of some boot that is of little value, or between folds o: paper?that which is porous and unglaz pd b ing the best. The drying is some times hastened by passing a warm flat iron over the paper. Change the panel every day until the leaves are quite dry and then keep them betweeu the leave; of a book, or in folds of paper, under : moderate weight, until wanted for mo TIipv m.-iv be tastefully arranged unoi white cardboard iu the form of wreaths bouquets, etc., may be used to decorab lamp-shades, to surround pictures, etc The leaves are first carefully oile l witl boiled linseed-oil, upon the upper sidi only. A little oil is applied with a bit o cloth or a brush, and the surplus wipet off 'nth a soft cloth. This in reuses tin brilliancy of the colors, as well as thei permanency. They arc afterwards fixe< in place by means of strong mucilage. Water-Spouts ox Lake Erie.?Sun day morning about 9:30, when about nine ty miles from Ene, and nearly abreast o Cleveland, on our course to Detroit, wi saw an immense water-spout, which a first looked like the heavy black smoke < a steamer. It gradually took the shap of a column, and arose to the clouds seeming drawing up and discharging ai immense quantity of water. Soon afte this spout arose others, which c.une ii the same direction and six were visible a thQ samo time, an apparently wumi nvi or three miles of each otlier. They channel locality a good ileal, and two of them ap peared to pass each other. While tlies "spouts," were in operation they appear ed like long black clouds or columns, ois charging immense quantities ol smoke which appeared ti he caused by thefa'lin water. Yiv'd lightning could be seen bi yond these spouts, and by rlie aid of glass it could be plainly seen that the lak in the vicinity was terribly agitated. Th India was about six miles distant fror these spouts?perhaps a little more. The lasted over half an hour.? Dc'roif Fn Press. Now that the cool nights are coming o country people are beginning to fix u [ their front gates. There was no use c trying to keep them in repair as Ion as the ov:nings were favorable to outsid courting. Oie of the wants of this ug is a gate hinge that will bear the weicl of a young couDle without straining tb gate hinge or ine lovers. 0 -* Tartar Women. The lives of Asiatic Tartar women o the higher classes are thoroughly aim less and uneventful, their ouly busiuesi being to eat, drevs and sleep. Thei costume is very rich and elegant. I consists of a species of robe of rich sib Of satin, sleeves being very large am long, sometimes falling as low as th< ground; the upper part of these robe are emproidered in front with gold Over this they wear a kiud of cipote very wide, and gene-ally made of goh brocade or some similar stuff, gorgeousl emproidered. They weai on the head i silk cap, bordered with fur, which hang down on one side, and ends in a poiu having a golden tassel attached to it this cap is sometimes adorned witl precious stones and ancient gold am : silver coines. The hair falls behind i long tresses, the ends cf which are tic up with bows of ribbons. Sometimes these tresses are cover? with long bands, to which are attache . various eoius and ornaments. They weal moreover, a profusion cf pearls, neck ; laces, gold and silver bracelets, earring' ; finger-rings, chains, etc. The dress c , one lady of rank, including jewclen ; frequently costs no less than a thousan 1 pounds. English extravagance thu finds a parallel?though, to be sure, on , belles seem to have more inducement ' to squander mouey recklessly for tli purpose of self-adornment than thei i Tartar sisters, who are kept entire! ; secluded in the houses and lmrems c their parents and husband. They ar allowed to remove their thick veils i _ tl their bedroom alone; not tneir oromer ; nor even their own uncles and cousii . are permitted to behold their featurei > The principal interest they have in lit i is a desire to please their exacting iord and to this task all their euergies ai i bent. Th?y use cosmetics freely, an ! spend hours in dressing, varying tli ; monotony of their dozing existence b , making and drinking copious drafts ( ; strong green tea, and consuming quai ; tiiies of sweetmeats, and other rich mil [ tures. They have no aims, no amb . tions, few pleasure?, and yet are happi ; It is true that with enlightenment come r discontent??London Saturday Reviei Cookin? Animals* Boius. ' In the year 1679 I'apin cooked bom - iu pots of peculiar construction into I j -lly, and claimed the merit of bavin I discovered a new and wonderously chea I k*'nd of food. His soverign, C larleg II ) was deposed to accept the fatal gift, an impose it by law upou his people, bu : fortuuately, the evil was averted by rid cnlo. A loDg and sol? mn procession ( > dogs appeared at court, with petitior I round their necks, in which they in plored the king to leave the hones t 5 their own uufortunate race. But tli f s ime experience was repeated with moi 1 though not better success in the sad dai ! of the French revolution. A distil 4 guished chemist, d'Areet, established tl I doctrine that bones, cooked for man 1 hours, would give at least half as inuc I food as pure, costly meat. The theoi ! ?was sound, aud the invention met ui? applause. Bone-soup became all th fashion ; it inundited hospitals, aim houses and prisons. But nobody like 1 it except d'Areet. Was it prejudice ? * " * 4? Ci. . ..4.1! 1.^...^.,^.. 41 1 iaie iuncy r o'uruiu^iiuntvcr, n fact, that starving clogs even refused th much praised soup, and at last a grove ? reported iu the i>ubhc papers that ra* had broken iulo Ins store, and tkei 5 committed terrible havoc. They h?i eaten his flour and his rice ; they ha not spared the pa>te of his labels and tl leather of his sh es; but, oil wonder? I they had not touched liis bone soup <: traetu! A committee was at last cboos? to inquire into the matter; men lit 5 Dupuytren and Jlagendie took part i i the researches, and after many years < ? careful and anxious investigation, tin . reported against the new substitute. appeared that bread and meat given wit ' the bone soup had been only as good ! without it and no better; that dogs 1 s died of starvation before they would <: 1 the new soup; and that, chemical speaking, the intense lieat required i extract the gluten from the bones d stroyed their nutritive power. ^ Thus it wus thaf ti^te obtained a si, nal victory over sc enee, and showed tl importance of those instincts with whit we have been endowed by the wise ben ticence of Nature, The San Jaun Boundary Qi$ tion. j Emperor William, of Germany, ! whom was referred as arbitrator und the so-called " treaty of Washington the disputed boundary line betwei the United Stales and Great Brita from the month of the Fraser riv through the archipelago south of Va couver's island, has decided in oi favor. The facts in the case may I tiius briefly explained. By the treai of 184t5, in which the Oregon boundai was. sunnused to have tieen settled. , I was stipulated that it should ri I j " upon the l!Uh p railed of north lal I tude to the middle of the charm ! which separates the continent fro , Vancouver's island, ai d thence soutl . erly through the middle of said c.ia nel to the Pacilie ocean.Under th I* clause a dispute arose at once, whit ? has continued ever since, involvit t the title to a large number of island r lying south of the regular channel? we claimed?some of them of considt able importance. The largest and mo I valuable of these was the island II San Juan. A great deal of local e r asperation resulted from the disput 11 and several hostile denn intratioi t have b^en made by the people of tli remote locality. A great deal of dip! 1 matic negotiation has been h: - between the two countries upon tli o disputed point, but no feasible plan f - definite conclusion was ever arrived i until bv the treaty of Washington . was referred to the enmeror af G< tr many as sole arbitrator. The potenta ? has just deeideil it adversely* to tl a claim so long and so stubbornly mai , taiued by Great Britain, thus dett mining an issue of nearly a quarter o L century's duration, n * y A Hardened Wretch.?A most bat 'f encd in iivi'tual is a Cbrcauoyuungsb ased but nineteen years, who was cc victed in that city and sentenced to ii n prisonnient for lite. As the e'erk read t - A " I- ' " !?'? rtl/1 fntliiii* n rr [J UTriUIC V>U1U>, lUU UUJ "3 uiu IUVUV1 aiv )f in a transport of affection and ,agony, a g threw his arm aiound bis child's neck \vi e a loud crv of pain. The son .shook b ;e ' off fiercely and, in an angry tone, exclaii it cd, 4> quit thi;.** l'he old man shrn e back in ni??nnv. and the boy hurri 1 away to confinement. Facts an?l Fancies. f The best barber in Terre Haute is a woman. ^ San Francisco has 5,009 places where | liquor is sold. A herd of 200 antelopes was seen late, y in Kam is. S,jotted short veils or veiletfcos hive . juite gone out of tasbion. Large pearls are the correct thing in hirt studs for full dress. ' People in Central Illinois are celling x rbeir cattle on account of the scarcity of " water. Vinaigrettes are now made of dull gold 'o represent a hunting horn, nud hung at j ;be waist belt. [I The most fashionable bracelets now i. trc made to twine around the arm and rec quire no clasp. Diamonds are now to u great extent set > a dull filligrec work; the effect produced (' s very beautiful. Ten million dollars have been provided : :>r the travelling expenses of the Shall of * * Persia while in Europe. A Troy two year old got a piece of icanut into its windoipe the other day, | ind died therefrom. 1( Sixty-five new colors in dress materials .. lave been introduced to the notice of the eminine world this Fall. , i Tight tittins sleeveless jackets of vel; ;et will be much worn over street costume* ? ?t silk during November. Pride and vanity are purveyors of rouble and danger; proud persons are * icitber safe nor happy. 1 A insn in Bloomiugton. Illinois, lately j i&d a bullet dug ouc of his arm which he iad carried about for more than ten -ears. The complaints recently made by he communist prisoners of ba 1 trea'tr uent by their jailers have been officially j ? e luted. , Apropos of Mrs. Fair's lecture engagej nents, tho Louisville Cnnvier-Journal j kinks she could make more money by i caching pistol shooting. > A prominent Boston physician was p iued $50 in the municipal court for uegecting to give notice of a small pox ase he was attending. ? Roussel, another prominent Commun. ist, has been found giilty by a court uartial of the charges brought against , iim and sentenced to death. The ceremony of laying the cornertone of the first insane asylum for i lomoepathic treatment in America has i aken place at Middletown, X. Y. } Switzerland has 2G8 head of cattle to 1 very 1,000 acres, and 557 to every 1,(10!) ' uhabitauts In Spain there are only 33 iead of cattle to every 1,003 acres. A serious riot occurred at Demerara, , Yost Indies, in which the coolies rose j gainst the planers. The police had to , >e called ont a.id fifteen coolies were . cillcd. Did you ever run about until the tarspiration trickled from your two ' irows looking for your pen and spectacles a ?ue of which was behind your ear and le other on your fort head V A landlady who rejoiced to find that ' ae could rent her upper rooms to a ' ?uple without children, writes to learn ow long it requires for a middle aged in to become an accomplished clog 1 lancer. A man who never read* the papers is u*nitig a comfortable living by getting .. ha h ie Htormod sending his It 1-, 7 tikireu to sch-.ol, preferring to instil ito their young miutU lii? own progres1 ve principles, The Common Council of Chicago proved the assessment of city taxes t??r , 872. The total valuation therein shown h $283,473 320. This is probably about j uveiity p--r cent, of ttre real value of the arious kinds of property included in the j ssessment. u A man named Heallv put two charges f shot and powder into a gun, Saturday ? i ) sho't a ca4; with. The cat hasu't sit c i I ) 'en ?e n, I u Mr. Ileally's right shouli ir-r is about three iucues out o' plnmh, id he Uas two new places to smell p through. Alarming repofts have reached Rome ^ 1 '^specting disastrous inundations on t ach side of the river Po, and the minuter of public works has left the cby to isit the scene, ? ut up to the preseut imc uo details have been received of t, auiagc or loss of life. The samples of ribbon lately introduced ; in the London market are said to be of -paralleled beauty, finish and vtiriety. j Juder the single color of blue as many as , welve d fferent and distinct shades are Ll rodnced. Some ot the sashes and scarfs I, re marvels of judicious coloring and [ ffectiveness. i". Some capitalists arc soon to m ike Rome ' auch more attractive .as n place of iasbiun" ?ble resort. A whole quarter is to be built :i I n the crr.andest style of arc'iitccturc, and 4 ;wo canals arc to be c.it to br rig ttie salt ' vateis of tlto Meditcrrincm to the city, -itnat there may be sea baths, and a race 'otirse Is al-o to be established. The overflow of the river Po has caused b -xcessive damage throughout the plains f Lombardy and Piedmont. Whole a illages have been inundated, the inhabtants driven for safety lo the highlands, 0 -.(id all their crops and stock swept x ..ay. Tho Minco and Ticiuo, affluent* f the 1V>, have also overflowed and ,, reated much disaster. :I The leported discovery of diamonds ? o Artz uu and Colorado appears to be V ?ow quite well authenticated. Several uckages of stones have been tested in tl *an Francisco and proved to be dianonds of the first water. D nvor is >r atnral'y ablaze on the subject. Some t, ro far enough to think that the diamond i, ields of Colorado will eclipse even her n wealth in silver and gold. ' Mr<. Gen. Gaines and her famom lawui<s are aaain commanding the aucnt'on f the people ol New Orleans, th:? time d. with a pro^p^ct of a spi edy termination of u, u?r long protracted battle in tlie court?. ,n The indelat'gable weman has proposed to P/kimoil f/v AnmmovmicA lir?t* 1 oroo (U jtU'; VHJ V/UUUlil I'/ ^ui|;iuuirw uvi I) ;taims on the city, ba?<xl 011 judgement* ,?( igainst the innocent holders who hare purn, hascd from the coi poration property which ti he United States carta bare decided bein oneed to Daniel CbrV< heirs. The New m )rleans Times says it I ?oks very much as i, ' Mrs. Games had the city in a corner on et his point, and rxpi esses a bone that a "reasim J?l$ compromise may be ellected.