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' * .?-y ??g^?eg?Mngrawan:?? QEESiE^ 1 . ?> -.?? ? -.L'iij J.." J.'J .L..w<IJI.I.A 'J.:iXI"?'. i'.^ 'I.^UJIW .1 xti oi?*? 1 The Beaufoht Republican. AN INDEPENDENT FAMILY NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO POLITICS, LITERATURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. OUR MOTTO IS-TRUTH WITHOUT FEAR. _ . I II I ~" ? 1 1 1 1 " "~i 1 IK ! ? ' ' ^ ' T~TT # VOL. III. NO. 20. BEAUFORT, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1873. A Possibility. My little baby is buried to-day; Gone?down in the depths of the churi yard clay, Up in the sky so dim and gray. Who will take care of my little baby ? "Who will kiss her ??her waxen feet, That hate never walked, and her Small har sweet, Where I left a white lilly, as was metft? Who, who will kiss my little baby ? Who will teach her ??her wings to fly, Her tiny limbs their new work to ply, Her soft, dumb lipa to sing gloriously? Oh, who will teach my little baby ? I have a mother, who long ago died; We ppeak of her now with our tears all driet Jthe may know my pretty one, come to her ei< Ana oe giau 10 see my mue oauy. Christ, born of & woman, hear, oh, hear ! Thine angels are far off?Bhe seems near. Give thou my child to my mother dear, And I'll weep no moro for my little baby. Surely in heaven, Thy saints so blest Keep a mother's heart in a mother's breast. Give her my lamb, and I shall rest If my mother takes care of my little baby. THE SCHOOL ROOM AS IT WAS. A Sketch that all will Recognize. Who that twenty years ago attend school, will not read with interest t following story of the school room the present day, with the teacher a his mode of punishment. How many *18 have not suffered as did our pc little culprit ? it is a bright December morning, a school has just been called. The be and girls, who were crowding about t stove when the ruler rapped, now ran themselves on opposite sides of t room in double rows. "Rap!" goes tho ruler. " Sami Narmore! whispering?" "Didn't know school had begui stammers the culprit. " What was you saying to Mos Chatford ?" "Not much of anything,"?with sheepish grin. "Not much of anything!"?sarcas eally. " Very important you shot break the rules against whispering, communicate not much of anvthir What did he say to you, Moses ? ' " I don't like to tell," says Moses. "You must tell! I command you!" " He said it was'nt quite nine o'clo yet." " What else ? You wouldn't have a objection to saving that. Out with t rest." " He said,"?Moses hesitates, i pressing a smile,?" lie said you call school before the time so as to get t crowd away from the stove and liav? chance there yourself." As Moses concluded his explnnatic the smile expands into a pretty bro one, and an audible giggle ruus arou the school-room. " Samuel Narmore," says the mast trying to maintain his cool and sarci t.ir> murninr. but jnakiucr rather chas1 work of it, " go an'd liold down tl nail in the floor ; I see there's dang of its coining out." What Samuel is really required to is to stoop over, crooking his knees little as possible, and place the tip his finger on the head of a nail, whi shines from the polish imparted to by numerous shoe soles and many unfortunate previous finger. The pi ture i? a peculiarly awkward one Samuel, who is tall and ungainly. I legs do not conform to the master's id of straightness ; who, to help the mi tor, gives a resounding slap with 1 ruler upon that part which the pupi attitude elevates into undue prou nonce. A howl from Samuel, who pitcl forward upon one hand, while ho pi up the other, either to defend or soot the injured part. "You hain't got your book," tli says the master. " Moses, hand 1 book. Here, take this and look oi your reading lesson so you won't mis word. Must'nt neglect business 1 pleasure. Reuben and Amos, I'll Ik you read. All study; no looking from books." Reuben and Amos, twolittleonesleai ine their letters, come and stand bv t master's side as he sits in his chair the stove. He points to the page, wli he watches tlio school. Suddenly t ruler flies at a youngster whose eyes i seen to wander from his book, strikes him on the knee and falls cl tering to the floor. " Herbert Cone, bring me that rule! Tho ruler is brought by a limping a ? trembling wretch. " Hold out yc ^ hand." The reluctant hand is extendi a blow and a yell. Take your seat a mind your book, "says Mr. Byron Din! By this time the young man who combining business with pleasure holding the nail in the floor while studies his lesson, shows violent syn toms of weakening. Now his tortur finger gives way, and for one despcr; instant he rests his weight upon t knuckles of his hand. Now his exci eiated legs succumb, and for one bli fill moment of forgetfulness ho s upon his heels. Again, attempting straighten, he quite overdoes the thii and lifts his finger so far that tho n might come out of the floor, for ni thing ho has to do with holding flown All this time lie dares not elan at the master, but keeps his eyes his book, held in his other hand. "Tip Tarbox is lookiu' off," says squeaking voice from the girls' side the house. " How do you know, Laury ?" r.t the schoolmaster. " T seen him," says Laura. "How could you see him withe looking offyaurself!" "I jest looked one eve off," is t maiden's amusing explanation. "Jest looked one eve off, and k< the ether rn your book, did ye ? I me see how you did it." More than ono eye, and more th one pair of eyes, involuntairly turn see Laura perform this interesting fe The result is not wholly satisfacto] She looks up with both eyes, and do1 with both, and winka and twists, a blushes violently, end at last whimpers " I thought I did." "Thought you did! Well, yon ap pear so much interested in hip*affaira you may go over and set With hial til recess. Take doWn voiiT ftpron! Start if you don't WUht liefp from me!" Help from the master under such cir cumstances not being thought desirable Laura drops her apron, but, pi'US ti] her olbow in its plaCd, U) hide he q shame, and Willi a bashful, sidelonj v gait, goes OVer to sit with the boys. Seeing nearly all eyes off their booki by this time, Master Dinks relates ihi rigidity of his rule, the ifioffc readily ai he would not like id punish some of th< large girls, u Tip's a ticklin' me!" cries Laura. " O, I ain't!" says Tip, earnestly i. "I was jest p'intin' my finger at her t< shame her." "'Tend to your lesftons, both of ye,1 says the master, "or I'll do some ticklin ye won't like." Then to the little one learning their letters: "Can't tell wlin letter that is, after I've told you fift; times!" And holding a turkey-quill bj the feather-end, he applies the quii i>art smartly to the heads of the un lappy urchins. " There! now go an< set on the stove-hearth nntil you can re member that the letter which looks liki a snake climbing a pole is R." "Laury's a hitttu' me!" cries Ti] Tnrbox, "He pinched me!" squeaks Laura. " Come here, both of ye !" says Byron with a sinister smile. As the culprit , tremblingly approach, not knowinj I what fate awaits them, he opens hi table-drawer, and tells them to putthei ?* heads in. ' Here, turn your.face towan Ut: your dear friend Laury; Laury, tun 0 your lovely countenance towards Ed ,or ward. Now, don't let me hear from yoi 1 again till I come and take your head out." So saying, he closes the drawe '7s upon their necks, ties their hands be hind them, and leaves them, standinj pe and stooping in that ridiculous posture viewing each other's charms of fcatur . by the light that comes in through tin ie opening. ? " PiiinChatfovd'sacuttin'thebench! says a small voice from the front seat among the occupants of which th ;cs opinion prevails, that, if punishmen is a good thing, it must be a virtue ii a them to bring each other and their elder . to grief. "j " Phiueas Cliatford, bring mo you 'I11 knife !" says the master. 10 " 'Tain't my knife, it's Jack's." '? " Jack should keep his knife in lii pocket," says the master, confiscatinj , the same. As he has long been watch , ingforachancc to show his spite agains c* | Jack, and as Phin is a son of one of th< ! trustees, this seems, to the mind ? ' Byron, a very satisfactory settlement o lie the matter. Jack, however, takes a different viet rfi" of it. " lie said he wanted my knifi j to sharpen a pencil with," lie " O, you keep a knife to lend, do ye ! a Then I'll borrow it." "I don't object to lending it to fel m? lows that will give it back to me^' say a* Jack. D "Sassy!" cries Byron, sharply. "Cal er me a feller, do ye ?" ' "I was speaking of the boys." an n* swers Jack ; "and I said fellows, no tn , .. ? *y , n.y.L jciiers. nc is sure 01 mat, me tunct ror Prouunc'a^on ?f tlmt word being om ' of the many things which his dearfriem t|Q Annie Felton has taught him. as " You may go and set on nothin) against the door," is the master's sen cjj tence, Jack hardly knows for what. ' I It is his first punishment, and his ho heart rebels against it. For a momen J3_ he hesitates* his eyes blazing with i ^ fiery sense of the injustice done him But something witliiu him whispers ;ea j "Obey !" Book in hand, he marches t< ^ the door, which is closed and latched j" and takes a sitting posture with his bacl against it, but with no other supporta painful and humiliating position 11 " Since ho became the champion of Ste] ! Hen Treadwell, he has enemies in school who are delighted to see him "in a fix" , ' but, strangely enough, no one enjoy his disgrace more than Pliiu Chatford. Master Dinks, walking about th school-room, now takes occasion, as h "8 passes in the rear of young Nnrmore ,C1 | to hit him smartly with his ruler, sayinj P at the same time, " Take your seat or what are you here for ? You aiu' AI, worth a cent to hold down a nail ? Primmer class take their places. To the mark ! Remember tho turkey 71" quill !" which simple instrument o Ie petty torture he warninglv waves in th ilo air/ ]10 "N liile the primmer class is preparinj iro to recite, Byron turns to the urchins 01 U the stove-hearth, and, pointing out t 411tv? o ootufnl li noire ii Knw p.in vm aj_ H?V ... .. V ......... , ^ , ^ _ tell me what letter that is ?" rj?? I "Snake elimbin' a polo!" is tli nd Prorapt reply. ur 1 The turkey-quill is raised, but, luckil; ,t|. ! for the urchins, there is that in thei mj' answer which sots Mr. Dinks and tli .p whole school to laughing, and they go j* off with a light punishment as they ar l,v sent to their seats, jjp The trials of the primmer class ar ,p. interrupted by a terrible crash, whicl Vlj causes the schoolmaster almost to " jumj lte out of his boots," as Phin afterward j1? declares. He turns, and sees a ludierou :u. sight, at which the school breaks fort] RS_ into a roar. its The authors of this diversion ar to Laura and Tip, who havo carried oi ig, hostilities even after their heads hav nil been shut in the table-drawer. Firs iv- Juaura wade laces at up. .pipreiurnei it tlic compliment. Then Laura made icq worse face. Tip beat that, and had on good deal of lip to spare. If her hand had been at liberty, Laura would noi a have given him a taste of her nails, am of perhaps have relieved him of a flaxe: lock or two. As it was, she had bu iks one effective weapon left: she srrr r his face ! Human nature in the shape of a bo; int nine years old never could stand that Tip flew at HPr, with intent to bite he he nose; anil the result was that Tip Laurn, table-drawer, table, a pile o ?p' books, the master's hat, two apples, am jet an inkstand all rolled on the floor to ! gether. an Jack, from his seat on nothingagaina to the door, Bprings to right the table am at- pick up the hat and books, and is after ry. wards allowed to return to his seat?no *n on nothing, but on something?un nd, questioned. ^ i , Tip and Laura pick themselves up> and are immediately sejaetf by thfc rHrts= * ten who knocks Uitil ffli&chievous heads | togblh&'f ia lively fashion. They are 1 then sent snivelling to tlieir'seaJts.* An IndlnhS iieVengc. I in order to properly understand the r true condition of Uachise and his band, , I will say that he is chief of a baud of 5 Apaches who in olden, times inhabited 8 the country from ike Gila on the north 3 id some distance into Sonora on the 5 south, and from San Pedro on the west 3 to the Mimbres in New Mexico on the east. They have, as far back as the memoir of man here runs, been at war with the peoplo of New Mexico, and i their living lias been principally obtained by robbery, i? When Arizona was first possessed by > the United States, for reasons best 8 known to himself, Cachise sought and I evidently desired peace with our people y and Government, and this relation exr istcd until 1860. During the time, 1 however, he constantly raided upon the . neighboring States of Mexico, and I brought back herds of horses and cat. tie. Occasionally stock was taken in 0 Arisona by his Indians at points dis taut from his country, but it is underp stood that when complaints were made in such cases he made an effort to restore the property. During the year 1880 a boy was made a captive while herding stock on the , Sonoita, and some believed that Cachise s had taken him ; hence Lieutenant Basr com with a company of soldiers, marclil ed to Apache Pass, near his headqnara ters, and camped at the Overland Mail _ station. The lieutenant told the staj tion-keepers that he was on his way to 3 New Mexico, and desired to see Cachise, r and induced them to go and invite him . in. j When asked by Cachise what was wanted of him, he was informed that he n desired to extend the hospitalities of D his tent, as he was on his way out of the Country. Cachise, with four of his " friends and relatives came in, and when . seated in Bascom's tent it was suddenly e surrounded by soldiers, t He desired to know the cause, anil a was informed that he and his frenda 8 were prisoners, and would be kept as such until the boy, believed to be with r the band, was given up. Cachise protested against such treachery, and declared that he would not give him up aa a he knew nothing about him. Watching , his opportunity, he drew his knife and . cut a hole through the tent and thus t escaped. ? He immediately called his warriors f together, and came in force near the f station and desired to have a talk. One of the Btation-keepers went to him to v hear what he had to say, but as soon as a lie had reached Cacliise's lines he was seized and made a prisoner. A day or ? two wa3 spent afterward in endeavoring to make an exclrange of prisoners, Ca. chise offering to give up his prisoner if B the lieutenant would release his (Cacliise's) friends, j The lieutenant declined to exchange only man lor man, uniesstjacuiso wuuiu surrender the boy ; but Cachise stead^ ily steadily affirmed that he knew nothf. ing about him. Finally he came for a 0 last talk, leading his statian-kcepei 1 prisoner with a rop? around his neck, tied to the horn of his saddle, He again offered to surrender him if his ? four friends were set free. The stationkeeper begged to have the exchange j made, as his life would be forfeited ii ^ it was not done ; but again the lieutena ant refused, and Cachise " rowelcd" his horse and dashed off at lightning speed, dragging his poor victim at fhll 0 length by the neck. The lieutenant then hung the foui ? prisoners, and Cachise opened the terri* ble war that has siuce almost devasted Arizona. '0 The people, not being apprised thai the hostilities had broken out, fell easj victims, and* the horrible murders and g tortures that followed for the next fen years are sickening to relate ; and from e that time to the first of last Septembei e scarcely a week passed without the , commission of bloody deeds by this 1 bands. The attacks of Cachise were "j made from ambush, and invariably sue' ^ cessful. Sometimes he appeared to be supported by a large force, and again p lmd but few followers. He was ofter reported to be at different points at the f same time, frequently reported dead, 0 and generally believed to bo crippled for life. His force was often reported to b( ^ dwindled mere nothing, while lie 11 would, when oecasion required, mak( u a stand with sufficient force to resist all 11 attempts to capture him. No matter what impressions were on e tertained regarding him and his force, ons thing is certain, that he has foi ? twelvo years successfully resisted al r tlio powers of the friendly tribes and ^ what the (rovemments of the United States and Mexico did i bring to beai e against him; and also that since th< first of last April he has been as success r fill in taking life and property as at anj 1 other period since lie commenced lios P tilities. s * An Unfortunatie Result.?It is in teresting to know that the Chinese arbiter of the fate of millions the Empere or, who, at the age of fifteen has jusl 11 been married, never saw either of hit ? brides before the day of marriage. He P ! fancied lie saw one?and she was hump ! backed?in a dream. By some strange 11 chance a girl so afflicted?but otherwise a ; of transcendent loveliness?was among " the seven hundred girls from which lib i Majesty's brides were selected. The Empresses wIiobc duty it was to make the selection knew of his Mnjestyrt v dream, and fixed on this girl for one ol his wives: but the poor creature wa? killed by the Court -surgeons who urn - dertook^ by some heroic process, to curs " her deformity. It is said the young r man takes the sad office most seriously I at heart. ^ Near Fort Ridgeley, Minn., six little '* children started for home from 6choo] during tho storm. Ono of them wat t found with his books under his arm 3 the others, locked in a death-embrace, - had little tears of ice in the eyes thai t there were no kind hands to close wher i- they grew dim in tho blinding snow' drifts. (.rare Yard Pictures. i As I was passing along one of the , west-side avenues the other afternoon, says a New York magazine writer* my way was obstructed by some workmen who Wei'e carrying boxes from an open lot and piling them in a cart which had been backed up against the curb. The 1 boxes were of unpainted pine, oblong, ^nd of various sizes-^each with a nnraDer chalked upon It. 1 soon found out what was happening. The contents of an old city graveyard were being rc1 moved to an out-ofgtown cemetery, to > make room for a r&w of new brick i stores. The gravps belonged to a con| gregation of early German settlers, ' whose great grandchildren perpetuated the ancient associations of church and country, and had found ample room, far from the impertinence of improve* ' ment, where they might bo gathered to > their fathers?or, at least, where their . fathers might be gathered to them. > The mourners did not go about the streets; there was not a wet eye anywhere; not so much as a handkerchief. > No?not even the sable, squeak-soled 1 undertaker, to give that air of solemn decency to the oceasion-?in its presence i dreadful, but in its unused absence more awful still. And yet it was the saddest funeral that ever I saw. 1 Yes, leather-faced, jovial workmen hustling your pine boxes over the sidewalk; yes, red-cheeked girls and boys peering between the fence-pailings with 1 eyes of wonder; yes, twittering snow birds; yes, great hurrying procession of people, with hearts full of Christmas or the devil; yes, dreamy loiterer?this is what it all comes to! You shall have 1 your day to be wept over and honored, dead; your one, own, only funeral: the ? closed blinds; the decorous little bicolored banner of woe at the doori knob; the rows of strange chairs in the parlor; the scent of flowers; the hushed i crowd; the tremulous prayer; the low | voice of the singers; the tears; the ' stifled sobs; the sudden, heart-broken ' out-cry; the hearse; the dust-to-dust. ' But-the big world will move ?n in its i way; aye?the little world that was all ' the world to you,?it also will move on. Not without a difference, surely; for to 1 some others it will never again be the i Bame world. Still, it will move on. The i living will not forget you?0, no! Your i image iu some hearts may grow dim dimmer, but in others it will be ever fresh and bright and .beautiful. " The i living!"?but what about the dead! Is ' there remembrance in the tomb ? Days 1 and nights, and summers and winters, 1 new moons and old moons, cloud and sunshine?the old unending round? 1 and some idle dreamer may stop a mo1 ment to wonder what sort of a mortal it 1 was that has come to bo a ruckle of 1 bones in box No. one hundred and eleven. 1 With these thoughts came another thought which is quite apt to follow such ? a sort of self-consciousness, rnther, that separates a man from his fellows,?a saying to one's sett?these people are all mistaken, insanely busy about matters of no earthly or heavenly ' consequence, scampering to and fro ou fools' errands; excited about nothing; it is every bit vanity and vexation of spirit. I had the feeling of one who looks at a play from behind the scenes, ' and smiles to himself at his friends in the parquet who seem to have forgotten ' ' that they are only at a show. Why! he i knows that Ophelia's flowers are made of tissue paper; and that Hamlet's ; calves arc stuffed with sawdust; he. can lay his hand upon the absurd little spectacled prompter whose sharp whispers from the w ings are translated on \ the stage into tender inurmurings or 1 passionate appeals. Ho known and sees this?but what " docs he know of the master-mind that informs all ? what does he see of the L mighty truth in untruth; the subtle, resulting beauty that thrills the souls i of those who lend themselves freely to ' the magnificent illusion ? He and he i alone is the fool! r So with this last figure I put to flight i that old haunting demon of mine?the ' demon of the doctrine of indifference? ! the philosophy that teaches the unrei ality of things temporal. O the falsci hood of it! O the farce indeed it would make of life! How he was Detected. i > A murder was committed at Cold, water, Miss. Dr. Ritchie, a citizen of [ a neighboring town, a local paper says, was on a little spree, and the murder at > Coldwatcr being fresh in his mind, be > accused every one lie met, in a jocular ? way, of being the man who had com| mitted the murder. Finally ho nut a stranger, and being just tipsy enough . not to care whom ho accosted or what ( lie said' he gddresscd the stronger in r the same manner : "Yes?you?you are | the man who murdered Johnson at | Coldwatcr." A look of guilt overspread [ I the man's face, and simultaneously lie L- I ran his hand in his bosom as if to draw . ! n wruinn T)r. Ritchie, obsorviite the .! movement, collared liim with his left r hand, and with his right drew a dirk . from his pocket, and holding it threateningly above him, told him if he atI tempted to draw a weapon ho would plunge that knife to his heart in a second. He then commanded the man to | withdraw his hand from his bosom, , which command was speedily obeyed, J when, instead of a weapon, the man , ' drew out the sum of $1,100, which lie dropped on the ground at his feet, and , which had been taken from the body ol , | the murdered man. Meanwhile a crowd p had gathered aronud the doctor and his J prisoner, and the evidence of the man's , guilt was by this time so palpable that ' he was declared to be under arrest and ' ' securely tied. t ,! Excited?One may get some conception of the terrible panic that-would , * occur in a crowded theatre in case ol r | fire, from thej?ccneat a Cincinnati thea r tro lately. During tlie matinee performance smoke was seen issuing from tho registers, and a general rush waf ( made in all directions. Men jumped I from tho gallery to the parauette, woj men screamed, and everybody was iu ; danger of being trodden down and , crushed to deatli, but had very little t chanoe of gstting out. There piwed i to bo very little smoke and no fire oi any consequence, and the audience WM brought to its senses, Milk in Texas. The visitor of Texas is astonished when he finds many of the chisf articles in the sustenance of life lacking their places Upon the table?articles which should be more plentiful here than in any other region of the country on the globe. And just here is where the quiet, sedate, formal Major D , of Kansas pity, met With the most bitter disappointment in his southern trip. The Major is exceedingly fond of milk. Immediately upon entering Texas soil, at our first dinner, the Major looked anxiously about the table for some evidence of the presence of his love. His reconnoitre was a painful one. There was no milk nor any evidence of its presence to be found. 'Waiter, bring mo a glass of milk." "We have none, sir." " What!" In blank horror the waiter wilted before' the thunder tones of that exclamation. " What!" again roared the Major. "Can it be possible that you have no milk?" " I assure you' not a drop, sir." " Then I'll find some in another house." So saying, he grasped his hat and hurried out of the room. Before we had finished our dinner, however, Major D returned, almost out of breath, a twinkle in his eye and joy beaming out boldly over his broad face. "Eureka!" eureka!" and he placed on the table by his plate a pint of milkish liquid. A good eye at once saw that it wns not pure milk, that thin white yellow substance. Major D thought he had the genuine article. The liquid was drank, however, and then the Major discovered that it was of an inferior quality of condensed milk. " * ? -Ml. ?l _ tk. .1 ""is ic possiDie, liu iuiltwuiu remarked to a Texan, "Is it possible that with thousands of cattle grazing on your hills you have no milk, and with the most magnficent grass country in the world, and your prairies everywhere covered witli good cows, that you make no butter ?" Yet such is the fact. Nearly every pound of butter consumed in Texas is imported, and all the milk to be had there comes in the form of a condensed article from the Northern States. With all the facilities for products of the soil necessary for hay raising, yet Texas buys aine-tenths of her bacon, hams and lard from her Northern sister States. With a soil unsurpassed for corn, oats and wheat, tho greater part of these products are imported. The chief staple of Texas soil is cotton, and to that product farmers devota their time to the detriment of evctything else. Time and immigration however will produce a great chango in that respect as well as others. Keen energetic farmers will discover that all the necessities of life can be produced on their plantations without neglecting their great staple, cotton. It will be a gloriou? day for Texas when such a state of things is inaugurated. For even as it is now the exports of the State for the year 1870 exceeded ifo I'mnnrfa in flirt Olim n( ftOO 000 Cnld. ikO 11U1/U..O ... v..~ o ?Juinsas City limes. A World's Fair. New York appears to be progressing with its permanent " World's Fuir " enterprise and promises that it will in no way interfere with the proposed " Centennial " celebration in Philadelphia, although the peopic of that city arc inclined to the opinion that it will. The Industrial Exhibition Company of New York, of which Gov. l)ix is president, is an organized corporation, under a special act of the Legislature of that ' State, and the first $2,000,000 of the stock is now offered at below par, and 1 the property of thecompany is exempted from taxes and assessments for five 1 years, and generally all powers are ' granted to it that will facilitate its objects. It is proposed to locate the necessary buildings for exhibition purposes on land in the upper part of the 1 city, comprising in all eight blocks of ground, valued, at the time of the contract, at $1,700,000, of which 200,000 ; have been paid. .The land purchased for the object appears' to bo the only tract of territory in one location owned or controlled by individuals large enough for a "World's Fair," lying between Ninety-eighth and One Hundred and Second streets and Third and Fourth avenues, thus being centrally located. The estimated costjof a suitable build, ing is about S7,000,000. A proposition ! has been made by an eminent New iMigiana nrm iu fuumiuci o iujuiu vui the court, which dome shaH he the ' largest and most magnificent in the . world. All this firm ask is that they be granted a perpetual lease of the dome, , above the spring of the arch, subject to reasonable conditions. The estimated cost of this dome is $3,000,000. Fi| uancially, it is believed by those who ! have become especially interested in , the "World's Fair" enterprise, that it : will prove a profitable speculation, be' sides showing the development of ma! terinl progress sine? the year (1854) when tiie New York Crystal Palace was ope n ed. ? Exch angr. | A Royal Sleigh. From a description given in a German cotemporary it appears that the new sleigh of the King of Bavaria surpasses in splendor all the sleighs in the world. This sleigh is one mass of gilded mythological 'and allegorical figures. The b?dy proper is supported by naiads, and i numerous cupids nre seen gamboling in i the garlands of flowers wJucii wiuti ; around it "en relief." Blue velvet . cushions, ornamented with the richest gold embroideries, cover the seats nnd steps, while the side and back panels . aro decorated by*paintings from the [ master hand of Henry von Pechman. [ The pole is also gilded and trimmed . with costly velvet. The robes are of . ermine. The harness for four horses is i covered with embroidered velvet, and i so heavy are its gold ornamentations [ that one headstall eamnot be lifted with . a single hand, and still more costly are I the saddle covers. Sleigh nnd harness [ cost the trifling sum of 200,000 florins t or something over $80,000 in gold. [ : * f Several steamers of the Atlantic comi pany have been seized for debt. This The Festival of Jagannath. Of the twenty-four high feasts whicl enliven the religious year in India, th< Car Festival of Jagannath is the great est. A writer describing this festiva says that for weeks before the Car Fes tival pilgrims come trooping into Pur by thousands every day. The whoh district is in a ferment. By the tim< the great car lias risen to the orthodo: height of forty-five feet, the temph cooks make their calculations for feed ing ninety thousand mouths. The vas edifice is supported on sixteen wheel) of seven feet diameter, and is thirty-fiv< feet square. The brother and sister o: Jagannath have separata cars a few fee smaller. When the sacred images ar< at length brought forward and placed upon their chariots, thousands fall 01 their knees, and -bow their foreheads ii the dust. The vast multitude shouti as with one throat, and, surging back ward and forward, drags the wheeled edifice down the broad street towardi the countiw-house of Lord Jagannath Music strikes up before and behind drums beat, cymbals clash, the priest) harangue from the cars, or shout a sor of medlev enlivened with broad allu sions and coarse gestures, which ar< received with roars of laughter by th< crowd. And so the dense mass struggles for ward by convulsive jerks, tugging sweating, shouting, jumping, singing praying, and swearing. The distanc* from the temple to the country-house ii less than a mile, but the wheels sinl deep into the sand, and the journej takes several days. After hours of se vere toil and wild excitement in th< July tropical sun, a reaction necessarib follows. The zeal of the pilgrims flag! before the garden-house is reached; anc the cars, deserted by the devotees, ar< dragged along by the professional pull ers with deep-drawn grunts and groans These men, four thousand and two hun dred in number, aro peasants from tin neighboring fiscal divisions, who gen erally manage to live at freo quarter in Puri during the festival. Arrived a the country-house, the enthusiasm sub sides. The pilgrims drop exhaustet upon the burning sand of the sacre< street, or block up the lanes with iher prostrate bodies. When they hav< slept off their excitement, they rise re freshed, and rfcady for another of tin strong religious stimulants of the seas on. Lord Jagannath is left to get bacl to his temple as best he can; and, bu for the professional car-pullers, wouh infallibly stick at his country-house. L a closely-packed throng of a hundrei thousand men and women, many o them unaccustomed to exposure orhar< labor, and all of them tugging an< straining to the uttermost, under i blazing tropical sun, deaths must occa sionally ocfiur. There have doubtles been instances of pilgrims throwinj themselves under the wheels in a frenz; of religious excitement; but such in afor?r?r>u vorA nlwflva rnrA nml ftrA nn\ unknown. At one time, several iinhap py people were killed or injured ever year, but they were almost invariabl; cases of accidental trampling. Tho fe\ suicides that did occur were for thi most part cases of diseased and miser able objects, who took this means t< put themselves out of pain. Tho off! cial returns now place this beyon< doubt. The Manufacture of Pig-iron. It is estimated that during tho las year;2,300,000 tons of pig-iron wer< made in the United States. Tho pro duet of the year ended Juno 1, 1870 was, according to tho ninth census 2,016,123 tons, being 1,065,322 tons mori than that of the year 1859-60. Of this amount Pennsylvania mad. 1,033,272; New York 223,72G; Massa chusetts 16,416; and Ohio 306,363. According to a list in the Report o the American Pig Iron Manufacturers Association, there were, last August recently completed or building, 53 bias furnaces, distributed as follows: Penn sylvama, 21; Indiana, 2; Illinois, 2 Missouri, 2; Tennessee, 4; Ohio, 10 Michigan and Lake Superior Region, 5 Since that time steps have been takei to build probably 30 other furnaces so that all tho new enterprises afloa may be regarded as leading to an addi tion to the annual productive capacit; of the country of 500,000 tons of pi# iron, resulting in an investment of fron about $35,000,000 to $10,000,000. The annual production of the worli is about 13,000,000 tons, and tho pros ent consumption is more than equal t< this supply. Continental Europe ex ports some iron (from Belgium and Swe den), but imports still more, so that practically, she is limited to meetinj the needs of her own markets. Grea Britain produced last year 6,627,17! tons. The year opens with tho price ranginj for No. 1 Foundery at from $18 to $50 and contracts have been made at thes figures. It is probable that no grea reduction will take place during th year. In England, no great fluctuation which might seriously affect our mar kets need be apprehended. False Piiide.?No honest occupatioi is so disreputable as habitual idlonest Yet there arc many young ladies wh choose to tlilllK so. .Lucre arc vcr many girls of limited means, in larg cities, who would gladly employ thei leisure hours in some way that woul prove remunerative to them, if the could do so without the fact of their 1)6 ing thus employed being known oui side their own family circles. Rathe thnn this, these fastidious j^rls wi] submit to any privations, and pass hour of each day in listless idleness tha ought and could be put to profitabl use. Another of the results of thi false pride is the fostering of a spiri of idleness, which almost complete] unfits them for house duties, and mor especially those which devolve upo them after marriage. Hence the man unhappy marriages growing out of want of famililarity with househol duties, and a positive disinclination t perform them. Charles Thurlow, of Newburypor! Mass., has suffered from defective siffl and hearing, but he fell into the hold c a vessel the other day, and now sees an hears as well as anybody. The shoe Facts and Fancies. i A elandj on shore is bod enough, bat > a swell on the sea is sickening. A Peoria lady, on returning home, 1 fonnd her cow in the parlor chewing its - cad and gazing contentedly in a mirror. 1 A Chicago paper says it is wonderful 5 how quick the blind beggars can tell 5 the difference between two oenta and a * 1 quarter. It is a great mistake for a lady to I wear a bonnet too young looking for her age, as it serves only to make her age more apparent. f Got. Washburn, of Wisconsin, calls I upon tho Legislature to devise some law , that will break up raffles, grab-bags and I lotteries at church fairs. i A lady has been robbed in a Milwaukee i church, during service, of a quantity of i costly lace from her cloak, and cannot imagine how it was done. 1 Mrs. Fremont is described as having i grown stout and gray, and never, in the days of her girlish beauty, was so fas> cinating as at the present time. " William F. Hague, a deputy United States Marshal in Omaha, and brotherin-law of Governor Scott, of South 3 Carolina, was frozen to death near 3 Cheyenne, W. T. A paper-in the oil regions denies that a denizen of its locality was seen doing ' up a nitro-glycerine can for a Christmas I present to his mother-in-law. He hired j another man to do it ap. c A lady's hat, trimmed in the height j of the fashion, and nicely packed in a . band-box, was carried by the United 3 States mail from Maine to California for eleven cents postage, a Miss Lena Clark is cashier of a bank 1 at Newton, la. Last week she missed a b train, and, determined to fill an appoint ment, walked seven miles when the mercury was thirty degrees below zero. , The Carlists are reported to be acting ' 3 with terrible cruelty in the north of ' Spain, murdering and mutilating those * who oppose them, and forcing hundreds ' of young men te join the insurgent j ranks. ^ James Creamer has been sentenced to r twenty years' additional imprisonment 3 in the Massachusetts State Prison for a ~ murderous assault on Deputy Warden Hall during religious service in the chapeL A lady in Fort Wayae has cards out for her silver, crystal, and tin weddings, which occur on the same day. Her first two husbands (divorced) have received invitations, but perversely decline attending. With quiet sarcasm a Maine paper remarks that after the 11 Chase heirs " get their thirty-five millions of dellars, more or less, frbm England, they will confer a favor by liquidating a small bill at its effice. That was a delicate compliment given by a ragged newsboy to the pretty girl who bought a paper of him. ' Poor little fellow," said she, " ain't vou very cold?" "I was, ma'ac, before you v unseed." he replied. J v Chicago has bean rebuilt with unb exampled rapidity, but a writer in the - Financier states that the indebtedness 3 of Chicago property holders for money - borrowed of outside capitalists is sixty1 five million dollars. "Variety weddings" have been introduced into Ithode Island. They take the place of wooden, tin or crystal wed? dings, the happy couple receiving a j variety of presents instead of having * them all of one material. , 0, the snow, the beautiful snow; such , a hunky thing, you know; blueing your a nose and chilling your toes; as whirling along the street it goes. No silly praise, i not any for Joe, for that coldest of - frauds, the beautiful snow. In the year 1848, the population of t St Paul was scarcely 500 ; in 1865, but '' 13,000 ; now it exeeeds 33,000. Buildi ing statistics show 932 buildings erectt Id during the last year, at an average - cost of $1,759 the total being $2,346,J 487. J A Yale College student lately went * through a civil service examination, and i after passing triumphantly, astonished I the examiners by telling them that he t did not want any office, but merely * wnnted to see what the examination was r like. ' The London Morn ing Pott recently cel1 ebrated its first centenary by devoting . eight of its wide columns to the reminiscences of men and things 100 years acre,. Bv noon a copy of tho paper 3 couid not be had for love or monoy in all London. While the Prince Imperial was returny ing from the chapel to the family mant sion from the Emperor's funeral, he was 3 saluted with the cry of "Vivel'Empereur." In reply to the salutation, he , exclaimed: "The Emperor is dead. Vive la France." e If one may credit the Chicago Trit bune, the snow on the line of the Winona c and St. Peter Railroad, during a storm, s was deep. It says the track-clearers in - several places encountered drifte so high that they stepped over the tops of the telegraph poles easily. a The farmers in and around Aarburg, i. Canton Aargau, have recently suffered o much from tne injury done to crops by y mice, which are said to have been more e numerous this year than was ever known r before. One mouse-catcher of Botd tenwyl, near Aarburg, alone caught in y three months 11,381 head, for which, at ! 15 centimes apiece, he received 1,707 francs 15 centimes. In September last a man with his rifles, two boys, two dogs, and a small ? wnofnn no thmuffh Cassville, Mo., it e on his wa^ to the swamps of Arkansas, on a trapping expedition. He ha* re. turned with 100 mink akina, 660 coon _ akina, and 3 deer akina, the whole valu^ ed at 8650; pretty good pay for ninety daya' work. At one time he waa thitry. y five milea from any house. a Camera hair shawl* can still be found d coating $5,0u0, bat there are long shawls o of antique design and richest coloring reduced in prices to from $100 to $260. formerly longed for at $1,600. The real t, Decca is now as low as $60. Reversible it camel's hair shawls are especially popu<f lar, as one's friends are thereby cunningd ly deceived, and the owner credited k with being the possessor of Wo, and *>,