V
-THE RET) CLOUD CHIEF.
M'HINO i A; HO KIN, l.d nri Ir'p.
RKI n. T'D
NKHRX-KA.
fJI.OI7iEI.
T JOHN H WIIITS0S.
Tliesnn liatiK'JU" ,0 l,,e etrl.
Like a en s r litirulnj? low.
And lncnite cloud . Ilka a rapor,
Drl toutlnce selt flow.
And the shades or t ; ohiIur twilight
Are sua l winjc wo'd and wold;
Ai.d Mit l K "w" ' r tne ra-dowB brown.
Like a death yjII, chill and cold.
All life to r. y sonl Is clouded;
And the slow rillli rain Mfmi teari;
Andtnew.ng oMl t turn backward.
And hovrro'er vanl'-hed year.
And fi tire. t r to the northward.
That peep t roi gi the c'otids and rain,
When t cem r' light la quenched In night.
Seemed filled wltu a naxneltis pain.
Datk shadow brood on the waterf,
And shadows leep on the ihore;
And rjiettrii. dance on the shingle
Vi here thundering lllows r.jar.
An1 a fchAlow trailed Jlke a banner,
Hy thtte sjo-ctres wan and white,
lis leeinedtofall 1 keagloumy pall.
O'er uiy trembling soul to night.
All hopes that thrilled through my lore.
All the BOi.gs that ttie siren sung;
When the life that Is -pent seemed golden.
And the love that Is dead seems young;
Dave each dl solTed In the gloaming.
Like cloudi In tha eTtnlng ky;
When the shadows come from their eatern
name,
And day lietn down to die.
O, my love! close, close to my bosom,
I'resstd eart my throbt lng heart.
How oft have I held you In rapture,
Nor dreamed we so so-n must part!
How ort from jour lips far brighter
Than gems from an Afrlc' mine;
I have drank in Miss with each willing kl,
Those kisses that thrilled like wine.
But all things sweet have an ending;
Love d e like tne flowers of spring;
And the sweeter love's finltlon,
Tx e bitterer Its panln sting;
And the hopts that are brightest and purest
Fall first 'neath thetmpesl,s wrath;
As the strongest tree that have wooed the
breeze,
Ue strewn in whirlwind's path.
Cincinnati Gazette,
THE DIVELOPMhXT.
BY W. II. WARD.
Arthur Allien was the son of a rich
old farmer, and being an only child,
would, at no distant day, become pos
sessor of his father's large-landed and
moneyed estate. The young man was
an expert at farming, and well educa
ted in all the English branches, and
withal, a gentleman and Christian, in
all thai these two words imply. Mary
Maiden was the daughter of a poor, but
honeBt, hard-toiling mechanic, she be
ing possessed of excellent sense, fair
common school education, and besides,
lovely in person and manners, without
a stain of any kind upon her character.
Indeed, she was none the less a Chris
tian than her accepted lover. Now
many people wondered why Arthur
Alden had selected Mary Maiden for
his future wife, seeing that he was vir
tually rich, and moving in the highest
circles of fashion, and she poor and
moving in the common walks of life
Yet, truly, all were agreed that they
were devotedly attached to each other,
and well knew that they were 'engaged,'
and the 'happy day' named.
Mary had purchased her wedding at
tire; all plain, though neat and tasty,
and when returning from the city some
fifteen miles distant, with her 'nuptial
garments,' and when within plain view
of her home, i e stage horses becoming
frightened at some unusual sight,
and jumped into a ditch near the high
way, at once overturning the stage, and
severely wounding several, Mary among
the rest. Sae was taken up and car
ried home in a fainting condition. A
physician was immediately summoned
to i estore her to conciousne.qs, and dress
her wounds which were bleeding pro
fusely. It was soon ascertained that one arm
was literally smashed from hand to
shoulder, and one side of her face brok
en and disfigured in a most shocking
manner. An additional physician sent
tor, who was soon on hand, had her arm
at once amputated at the shoulder, and
her face dressed the best that could be
be done under the circumstances. Her
sufferings were intense during the first
few days, but in a week or two she was
doing as well as could bo expected.
The neighbors said, "How much she
is suffering in body and mind, with the
loss of an arm, and her face to remain
scarred all of her life; besides all this
her matrimonial prospects blasted for
ever, as Arthur Alden will not think of
marrying her with all her deformity!
True, he visitn her since the accident
from time to time, but only as a
friend, as it would not be exactly prop
er to leave her at once, but means
to get away as easily as possible. In
deed, since the accident he has never
spoken a word to her regarding their
marriage engagement, at which poor
Mary cannot find fault, for surely, Ar
thur has nething to say now on the sub
ject, as he considers himself, as a mat
ter of course, freed from all obligations
to marry her."
"While Mary considered that Arthur
had a full and free right to deem him
self freed from the engagement, yet,
she properly thought that he would per
haps, be better satisfied if she would
give him a written release. So the
day before the time set for the wedding
o come off, as agreed upon weeks before
he accident, Mary wrote the following
lote and sent it to Arthur by the hand
rf a friend, to be delivered to him that
vening without fail:
"Home, Wednesday P. M.
Mr. Arthur. Alden :
Dear Sir "Well knowing, as I do,
that you have a perfect right to consider
yourself released from our marriage
engagement, without note or comment
on your part, yet believing that you
would prefer to have a special dis
chargetoo timid, perhaps, to ask for
one I hereby grant you a full and com
plete release from all obligations to f ul
ill said engagement The reason for
p-antingthis release is too obvious to
f ou to make it necessary to be named
here. May Heaven bless you, Arthur
Mr. Alden, I mean whatever may be
the fate of poor unfortunate
Mary Malden.
The marriage, as previously ar
ranged, was to have taken place on
Thnrsriav evenine at 6 o'clock. An
old favorite pastor living fifty miles J
away, was engaged to 'tie the knot;'
but immediately after the sad accident,
Mary wrote to her pastor that his ser
vices would not be required, hence he
need not come.
Thursday was, indeed, a sad day for
poor Mary, for it was the day she was
to have become the happy wife of Ar
thur Alden, but, alas! how sadly and
wearily passed the hours of the day!
And at 3 o'clock, hor mortification was
heightened by the apiearance of her
eld pastor! What could it all mean?
What had brought him here, when his
services were not needed ? An explan
ation was soon had he had not re
ceived Mary's epistle notifying him not
to come, so had his journey all for
nothing. So, after praying and sympa
thizing with the unfortunate young
lady it being now about half-past 5
o'clock started for home.
After the minister had been gone a
few minutes, Arthur happened along
and entered into conversation with the
hired man at the front gate, apparently
on some business matter, and Marj't
noticing him from a window, became
more unhappy than ever; for, indeed,
she had hoped to be spared the pain of
looking upon his face again, as she
could never be his wife, and regretted
very much that anything should ever
occur to give her even a casual view of
his face. But turning her head from
the window a moment, then looking out
again, Arthur had disappeared, and she
at once gave a sigh of relief and started
for the parlor to have a good cry in
spite of her apparent bravery, when
lo! she was met in the parlor by Ar
thur, who said to her with deep emo
tion: "What, Mary! ten minutes to 6, and
no preparation made for the wedding?
And you just sent the minister away
as I understand? What does- this
mean?"
Dear, whole-hearted girl! She was
at this stage of the proceedings com
pletely overcome, and throwing her
self unreservedly into her lover's arms
wept on his bosom like a child, too hap
py and thankful to utter a single word.
Rallying, she said:
"Arthur, permit me to ask you what
a 1 this means? Did you not consider
yourself fully released from the engage
ment? Did not my note yesterday, say
so? Besides, you had a full right to
deem yourself free after the accident!'
"Mary, I treated your note yesterday,
as of no account, and now say that you
are the only girl I ever loved, and the
accident has had no more effect in cool
ing my affection for you than would a
drop of water in extinguishing a burn
ing mountain. So my little pet, hurry
on with that wedding dress. A swift
horseman can soon overtake the preacn
er, and biing him back in haste, so that
no time will be lost, worth mention
ing." So there was a real wedding at the
humble residence of Mr. Maiden, the
officiating clergyman receiving a fat fee,
in the form of a fifty dollar greenback,
besides his stage and railroad fare paid
both ways. This all happened years
ago, Arthur proving to be one of the
most dutiful and affectionate husband ,
and Mary one of the most loving little
wives, and everybody said they were
the happiest couple in all Aldensville.
A Cincinnatian Abroad.
Tr ere is a certain type of American
not unfrequently seen here, who has
become rich without becoming wise, and
who apes wisdom because he has money.
You will find him generally at the Grand
Hotel or the Hotel de Louvre, always
growling because dinner is not served at
midday, and in a chronic state of won
der and dissatisfaction because the
people who surround him speak French
instead of English. He is generally
badly dressed in the newest garments,
speaks with an utter recklessness of ad
verb and ad jectives, is hazy on the sub
ject of tenses, and admires nothing with
out asking how much it cost Without
the slightest necessity of his making
such an assertion, he generally tells you
he is a self-made man. The writer met
such a person as this a while ago, and
in a spasm of good nature consented to
conduct him through the Louvre and
the Luxembourg galleries. The follow
ing is a specimen of the man's ordinary
conversation: "What's that picture?
Sort of a picnic, ain't it?" he said, point
ing to the largest canvas in the Louvre.
"That is 'The Marriage Feast at Cana,'
by Paul Veronese," answered the wri
ter. "Frenchman?" "No, an Italian."
"Dead?" "Oh yes, a long time ago."
"How much do you suppose it cost?'
"Well, some hundreds of thousands of
francs." "'Taint worth it I Look here,"
he said, "what's this?" "That! That is
the gem of the Louvre MuriHo's 'Im
maculate Conception," I answered, won
dering whether there wasn't some corner
of his heart that this great work would
appeal to. "Well," said he, "'tain'c
natural; no woman could stan' up on a,
cloud like that Pretty baby aintthey'r
(thinking of his own little ones at home,
no doubt). "How much is it worth?'
"About forty million dollars," 1 answer
ed at random. "I guess youre mistaken
he continued, with a look of triumph in
his shrewd, calculating eye. "It ain't
nowhere near as big as the other one
you told me about" That man spent
just two hours in the Louvre. I hope
it did him good. As we walked down
the stairs he said to me, "Ever been down
to Cincinnati?" "Never." "Well, you
ought to see a picture they've got there,
painted by a young man r amed Farin,
and showing how to kill a hog. It
begins from the time the hog's brought
in, and shows all the various processes
till he's hung up ready for market It
is natural as life. Paris Correspon
dence Boston Transcript
A shownan whose notices called for a
few fat boys to "feed to his cannibals,"
received a card from a man saying that
he couldn't spare his boys, but he had a
good "stall-fed mother-in-law that he
hought would suit"
Woman is at best a contradiction stilL
FARM, GARDKN AND HOUSEHOLD.
rerenlty of tha Parmtrt Life.
There is a serenity about the life of a
farmer and a hope of a serene old age,
that noother business or profession can
promise. A professional man is doom
ed, at least to feel that all his powers
are waning, he is doomed to see younger
and stronger men pass him in the race
of life; and he is doomed to pass an old
age of intellectual mediocrity. But on
a farm he goes as it were in partnership
' with nature; he lives with flowers and
trees ; there is no frightful strain upon
the micd; the nights are filled with
sleep and rest ; he watches his flocks and
herds on the green slopes; he hears the
pleasant rain falling upon his corn, and
the trees he planted in youth rustle
above, while he plants others for the
children yet to be. From IngersolTs
Address at Peoria.
Transplanting.
The only advantage which is claimed
for fall transplanting over spring trans
planting, is that the roots become settled
J in the ground, and new fibers are form-
ed.which induce an earlier spring growth
and a more reciprocal action between
leaves and roots. We are not advocates
of fall transplanting for the climate of
Chicago. Boston, or even New York, ex
cept for those plants that are never in
jured by our severe cold or extremes of
temperature. But for those who have
already settled upon transplanting this
fall, we would say do it now as soon
as it can be well done. If it is a fact
that the roots will made a fibrous growth
which is not killed by alternations of
freezing and thawing, then the sooner
trey are transplanted the better, after
the leaves have ceased to act. Tnis may
be ascertained by the first discoloration
of the leaves, which is proof that their
cells are clogged with insoluble matter,
that they no longer receive sap from the
roots, and that they have consequently
no longer the power of elaborating ma
terial for their own support, or that of
the plant upon which they still exist
Rural New Yorker.
Small Thing.
Every farmer should have a small
room, tight and warm, which he can
lock, and where he can keep his small
tools. Then he wants a good solid work
bench, with an iron vise on one side and
a wooden one on the other. For iron
working he wants a solid piece of iron
for an anvil, a 7-pound steel-face ham
mer, a riveting hammer, one large and
one small cold chisel, 2 or 3 punches
from one-fourth to three-eighths inch, a
rimmer and countersink, to be used with
bitstock, a screw plate that will cut a
screw from one-fourth to three-eighths
of an inch ; then, with round iron of the
vari us sizes, and ready-made nuts, he
can make any bolt he wishes. For car
penter work he wants a square, a shav
ing horse, drawing-knife, a set of planes
augeis from one-half to two inches, a
fine hand-saw, with coarse crosscut and
rip-saw, large cross-cut saw for logs, and
a grindstone.
Facta Worth Remembering-.
Carrots lor horses, experiments have
shown, are most beneficial when fed in
conjunction with oats. Alone, they are
less nutritious than oats alone, but when
fed together, in the proportion of, say
two quarts of oats and two of sliced
carrots toames3,the result will be more
satisfactory than if either were fed sep
arately. A new enemy to grain has lately been
discovered in a cargo of barley discharg
ed at Amsterdam. It is a small, micro
scopic maggot, of an unknown species,
and besides the injury it inflicted on the
grain, its presence there produced seri
ous illness and a peculiar eruption on
the skin of all who came in contact any
where with the cargo.
To facilitate the parturition of cows
the administration of a few handfuls of
linseed with their drink, for three or
four weeks before their calving, is
strongly recommended by a writer in
the Landwirth, a German agricultural
paper. la over 30 years' practice he
has always found it to act beneficially,
and, moreover, it increases the secretion
of milk decreases inflammation and con
stipation, and forms a certain remedy
in retention of after-birth.
To drain a depression in a field, where
a clayey or hard-pan subsoil prevents
the sinking of rain water, and the lay of
the land is unfavorable for ordinary
methods of drainage, first dig a hole as
if for a well through the impervious
stratum at the bottom of the hollow, fill
it up to the brim with refuse stones, re
move the excavated earth so as to allow
the surface water free access to the pit
and standing water will never injure
the grass or grain crop in that part of
the field,
Defective seed corn is a great aggra
vation to the farmer in the spring.
It causes delay in replanting, or occa
sions serious loss in the crop if replant
ing is omitted. This is the time to avoid
the difficulty, by storing up a full sup
ply of sound seed. Select perfect, well
formed ears, and store them carefully
in a dry place, and the trouble alluded
to will be obviated.
A Rise in Life.
Beauty is only skin deep, to be sure;
nevertheless it is a dowry to be prized
and frequently proves a means of ad
vancement During the troubles in the
reign of Charles L, a beautiful country
girl cametoLondoninsearchofaplace
as a servant maid ; but, not succeeding,
she hired herself to carry out beer from
a brewhouse, and was one of those call
ed tub-women. The brewer, observing
a good looking girl in this low occupa
tion, took her into his family as a serv
ant and after a short time married
her; but he died while she was yet a
young woman, and left her the bulk of
his fortune. The business of the brew-
ery was dropped, and to the young
woman was recommended Mr. Hyde,
as a skillful lawyer, to arrange her hus
band's affairs. Hyde, who was after
ward the great Earl of Clarendon, find
ing the widow's fortune very consider
able, married her. Of this marriage
there was no other issue than a daughter,
who was afterward the wife James II.,
and mother of Mary and Anne, queens
of England.
U-EFUL RULRH AJfD TABLKS.
Measurements of an Acre To
aid farmers in arriving at accuracy in
eati matins the amount of land in differ
ent fields, we give the following table:
A field of any of these dimensions con
taining one acre:
S yard wide
30
W feet
21 "
ivrar.s w.da
V "
;o
ll'i feet
im "
w
- by -
M long.
s
as:
Mi lang
121
en,-
Boxes made of the following dimen
sions, in the clear, will be found very
nearly accurate:
13W InenM square ty MX In
10 " " ' IK
i 1-5 s
6 ( 2-5
4 " " " S.-S
4 M " 5 1-5
H Ik.
Kltal
qu
Number of trees, plants, &c required
te set an acre:
1 foot by 1 foot... 4V6'
IJ4 rct ' icci............. ............. -'
2 2 " 10-'
2K
3
3
3
5
6
9
12
IS
.n .. ta
i 100. ..................... '.
' 2 feet 7 2'
" 3
"4
')
2.722
1.712
1.210
437
1.103
" 4
"6
"9
12
"15
"SI
'30
2J
40 " "40
Rule: Multiply the distance in feet
between the rows by the distance the
plants are apart in the rows, and divide
this into the number of square feet in
an acre (43.560)
The English Quarter, at which wheat
is quoted in the English reports, is 500
pounds or one-fourth of the ton gross
wsight of 2240 pounds. The English
legal bushel is 70 pounds, and conse
quently 8 of those bushels is a quarter
equal to $ of our statute bushels of
60 pounds.
Ihe Picturesque in Nature.
If there be a single principle that
ought to be recognized before any other
with regard to the picturesque in na
ture, it is its entire incompatibility with
artificial embellishment All of this
smoothing and dressing may be neces
sary in the city and its suburbs ; and
those who cannot see why they are
more Heedful in town than in the coun
try, will sometimes spoil the beauty of
a whole rustic village by smoothing and
decorating a few acres about their
dwelling houses. I have often, in my
rambles, been amused at the simplicity
of some honest people, who, upon learn
ing my errand, would lead me to one of
these bald spots for a picture. In one
instance I was conducted to a little
pond bordered in its whole circumfer
ence by neatly pecked curbstones, with
a few formal clumps of shrubbery ir
regularly disposed outside of it Near
it stood a noble ash tree. When we had
come in sight of it my companion turn,
ed his eyes toward me with an expres
sion of triumph. I looked disappointed
and remarKed,
"Here is a good subject utterly spoiled
by those curbstones and clumps of
shrubbery. Were I to make a picture
containing these formalities, everybody
would laugh at it"
He remarked that he thought the
curbstones an ornament.
"An ornament they undoubtedly are,"
I replied, "if they were not they might
be admissable iuto a picture; for even
formality does not clash with the pic
turesque, if it be not the effect of de
sign. Ornaments, as you will learn, if
you carefully reflect upon what you ob
serve, ruin the poetical character of ev
ery natural scene which they embellish.
Nature, like Milton's Eve, is 'when least
adorned, adorned the most'"
Advice to Nervous People.
From whatever cause or combination
of causes nervousness has been pro
duced, if happiness and health are to be
restored, the c.iuse must be removed
and the injury they have caused repair
ed. For, in proportion to the weakness
of a man's system and the enfeeblement
of his nerves, will be the liability of his
falling a victim to other and more fatal
maladies; and thus it is that every day
we find such diseases as bronchitis, con
sumption, Blight's disease, br-in dis
ease and insanity following at the heels
of nervousness. First we must remove
the cause, restore the tone of the heart
improve the blood. All injurious hab
its must be given up; late hours and
intemperance in eating abandoned;
smoking, if practiced, stopped. The
food is most important. It must be
abundant and wholesome neither too
much nor too little. It should not be
sloppy, and soups had better be avoided
so long as solid food can be taken. Rise
from the table feeling you have had
enough, but not oppressed with what
you have eaten. The bread should be
stale, and no very heating food taken.
Eight hours' sleep should be taken
every night if possible. This alone will
nearly cure. Take no narcotics to make
you sleep. A few raw oysters before
bedtime are worth all the narcotics in
in the world, are easily digested, and
furnish material for restoring nervous
tissue and blood. If you wake up in
the middle of the night, sometimes a
stale biscuit eaten will send you off to
sleep again. A change of scene, air,
and cheerful society, with sea bathing,
are excellent agents for curing nervous
ness. Avoid physic it exhausts the
tone of the system, the very thing you
would restore. Above all, keep up a
good heart and a firm reliance on the
great Author of life.
As freely as the firmament embraces
the world, so mercy must encircle friend
and foe. The sun pours forth impar
tially his beams through all the regions
of infinity; heaven bestows the dew
equally on every thlrsry plant What
ever is good and comes from on high is
universal and without reserve; but in
the heart's recesses darkness dwells.
Schiller.
A Nevada paper announces that Mrs.
D. F. Fox, of gold hill, has fallen heir to
one-ninth of an uncle's fortune, her
share amounting to 120,000,000.
GEM OF THOUtiHT.
Praise is only prase when well
ad-
dresseJ. Gay.
Sltp. the ante-chaaber of the grave.
Richter.
Kings ought to shear, not skin their
sheep. Herrick.
Wnat is dishonestly got vanishes in
profligacy. Cicero.
Think with terror on the slow, the
quiet power of time. Schiller.
But what is woman? onlv one of na
ture's agreeable blunders. C Ier.
She commandeth her husband in any
equal matter, by constant obty n h:m
Fuller.
Extreme vanity SDmetiraea hides un
der the garb of ultra modesty. Mre
Jameson.
Treason is like diamonds; there is
nothing to be made by the small trader.
Douglas Jerrold.
Beauty is such a fleeting blossom, how
can wisdom rely ujon its momentary
delight ? Seneca.
Solitude either develops the mentul
powers, or renders men dull and vicious
Victor Hugo.
Women do act their part when they
do make their ordered houses know
them. Sheridan Knowlea.
It is easy for men to write and talk
like philosophers, but to act with wis
dom, there is the rub! Hivarde.
The errors of woman spring almost
always from her faith in the good or
her confidence in the true. Balzac
Time never bears such moments on
his wing as when he flies too swiftly to
be marked. Joanna B.iillie.
Most of their faults women owe to us,
whilst we are indebted to them for most
of our better qualities. Chas. Lemsle.
The man who can not laugh is only
fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils ;
but his own whole life is already a trea
son and a stratagem. Carlyle.
The perfection of conversation is not
to play a regular sonata, but like the
JE jlian harp, to await the inspiration of
the passing breeze. Burke.
A virtuous mind in a fair body is in
deed a fine picture in a good light and
tnerefore it is no wonder that it makes
the beautiful sex all over charms. Ad
dison. It is only by labor that thought can be
made healthy, and enly by thought
that labor can ba made happy; and the
two can not be separated with impuni
ty. Ruskin.
The church has a good stomach ; she
has swallowed down whole countries,
and has never known a surfeit; the
church alone can digest such ill-gotten
wealth. Goethe.
Rhetoric in serious discourses, is like
the flowers in corn pleasing to those
who come only for amusement, but pre
judicial to him who would reap profit
from it. Swift
Physic is of little use to a temperate
person, for a man s observation on what
he finds does him good, and what hurts
him.is the best physic to preserve health.
Bacon.
A handaemo woman who has the
qualities of an agreeable man is the
most delicious society in the world.
She unites the merit of both sexes. Ca
price is in woman the antidote to beauty.
Bruyere.
The greatest of fools is he who im
poses on himself, and in his great au
concern thinks certainly he knows that
which he has least studied,and of which
he is most profoundly ignorant Shaft
esbury. No amount of preaching, exhoitition,
sympathy, benevolence, will render the
condition of our working-women wha
it should be so long as the kitchen and
the needle are substantially their only
resources. Horace Greeley.
Who, in the midst of j'ist provocation
to anger, instantly finds the fit word
which settles all around him in silence
is more than wise or just; he is, were lie
a beggar, of more than royal blood, be la
of celestial descent Lavater.
From the beginning of the world to
this day there never was any great vil
lainy acted by men but it was in the
strength of some great fallacy put upon
their minds by a false representation of
evil for good or good for eviL South.
The lve of glory, the fear of shame,
the design of making a fortune, the de
sire of rendering life easy and agreeable,
and the humor of pulling down ether
people, are often the cause of that val
or so celebrated among men. Rochefou
cauld. Wrinkle not thy face with too much
laughter lest thou become rediculous;
neither wanton thy heart with toofmuch
mirth, lest thou become vain; the? su
burbs of folly is vain mirth, and pro
f useness of laughter is the city of fools.
Quarles.
Those can most easily dispense with
society who are the most calculated to
adorn it; they only are dependent on it
who poseess no mental resources, for
they bring nothing to the general mart;
like beggars, they are too poor to stay at
home. Countess of Blessington.
Napoleoa's Casipaijra ia 1812.
Flushed with his series of victories
Napoleon crossed the Niemen in June.
As he advanced the Russians retreated,
destroying in their flight everything that
would sustain the life of man or beast.
Before a shot had been fired, twenty
five thousand of the "grand army" were
suffering the pangs of hunger and dying
too rapidly to be buried ; the road to
Nilna was piled with ten.thousand dead
horses, and a hundred and twenty pieces
of artillery were abandoned en route
for want of horses to haul them. At
Smolensko, the first stand was made, and
a siege begun. Daring the night the
inhabitants evacuate the city, and re
treated with the soldiers, leaving for
the French the shelter of fire, smoke
and ashes. At Borodino, the Russians
halted, in the hope of checking the con
queror, and saving Moscow, in which
he had declared he would spend New
Year's. Battle lines were drawn on
September 6, each side having about a
hundred and thirty thousand men, and
the artillery of both aggregating a thou
sand guns. The battle commenced at
sunrise; it doted with the darkssai.tcd,
although nlnrty thousand mn lay lad
upon the fi-ld. nrthrr combatant could
claim a signal tnumph. Tim P.iuwUns
resurctd their retreat to M cow, and
when Napoleon caught up with Jhtnon
S?ptemberl4.theaty was likr the grave.
Its three hundred thousand inhabitant
had fit!; incipient fires were bunting at
points best calculated to spread the
flame?, and in twenty four hours the
French themselves were comjidled t
ily from its environs to esca the con
titration. When the ilaines had been
x'iuffubhed. the Kremlin was found
Lbiib table, and there XajoIeon lookup
h; resilience to dictate terms of peace.
II s v c ory at Moscow was too like
that at Borodino it had undone him.
H.s men prefemd graves in France,
and demanded that they might be given
a chance to see again the sunny Mo;
if only to die in the vision. Ou October
IP, the retreat bean.
The Russians frei z ed, fell In small
divisions upon the retreating and inva
lid French and cut them down like
grain. Winter set in: icy mounds of
corpses had to be cllmed by those who
were able to withstand the ttorms. Cir
cles of dead surrounded the feeble bi
vouac tires. Birds of prey and famish
mg dogs followed the perishing detach
ments, and feasted on the dying and
dead in the sight of their comrades.
When Xajoleon reached Tarts, Dec U,
Ney and thirty soldiers constituted the
rear guard. From June to December a
hundred and thirty thousand of "the
grand army had leen slaughtered on
battle-fields; a hundred and thirty thou
sand had died of cold and starvation ;
and two hundred thousand had been
taken prisoners.
Golden Silence.
"Speech is silvern but silence Is gold
en," saith the proverb. Certainly a tal
ent for holding one's tongue deserves
high rank among negative virtue.
Many a man passes for wise simply b
saying nothing, and those who talk
least make fewest enemies. True, we
sometimes may reent our silence, but
such repentance is rare compared to the
frequency with which we array our
selves in mental sackcloth because of
incautious sjeechea. To adopt the rub
once given toatalkative girl by a friend
who knew the world. "Never sieak of
yourself, and never say anything which
ia unnecessary, would seem at first
likely to make Carthusian monks and
nuns of us all; yet it is to bequestiouvd
whether the advice were not wise.
There are always people who like to
talk, and good listeners are rare. It b
said Macau 1 .y once rode half a day in a
coach with a deaf mute, whom he af
terwards pronounced a iwrson of re
markable sound iMLditic.il views, and
Madame de Stael on one occision was
induced to harangue a wax ligure for
an hour under the impression that it
(the figure) was a gentleman who ad
mired her writings and h:ul expressed
a desire to become acquainted with the
author. These stories may or may no'
he facts; certain it is, lnith of the great
personages in question were fond o
hearing themselves talk, and suhVlent -ly
egotistical not to notice whether
their remarks elicited mote than silent
acquiescence on the part of others.
All savage nations placo high value
upon silence, and conversation is Im
yond doubt one of the arts of civiliza
tion. To know what to say and when
to say it this is the sixth sense which
shall steer its possessor safely over hid
den shoals and through breakers, and
win for him the harlwr of jH)pularJt)
Fluency and garrulity, these are differ
ent, as distinct, as the flowers we culti
vate with care and the weeds we uproo
in disgust from our flower borders; pity
the one should ever be mistaken for the
other. L'ndoubte lly half the mischief
in the world has been done by too much
talking. Had Eve notstoped to parley
with the serpent Paradise had never
been lost ; and thenceforth all through
history idle words have been one of the
agencies which have turned the fate of
nations. And a word once sioken can
never be uniid; alas for the timet
when we bewail ourselves In dust and
ashes over the speeches we would fain
never have spoke 1. Perhaps the East
ern despots, who cut out the tongues of
their slaves, placed too high a vain
upon silence as a virtue for servants
Yet modern usage demands the well
trained domestic shall never speak un
less first spoken to. "Good children ar
seen but not heard" is a saying, passed
into oblivion with the old fashioned
doctrine which required filial obedience ;
but in the days when it was part of
household doctrine it must have adde 1
infinitely to the comfort of the families
in which it was so observed. In short
throughout all ages sages have taught
the virtue of silence, and hundreds of
wise sayings might be quoted in its
praise; but neither proverb nor precept
can have more weight than the words
of Holy Writ, wherein it is said that
For every idle word God shall call us
into judgment"
Piute Barbarity.
On Thursday night last a medicine
woman of the Piute tribe, who had been
living near Bridgeport was shot to death
by three buck Indians. On Friday mor
ning the chief of the Piute tribe called
upon Judge Whitman, and related to
him the circumstances of the killing
The medicine wovian had failed to cure
a sick child of the chief, and this being
the third patient who had died on hr
hands, she was condemned to death.
Two young men assisted Hie father of
the dead child in carrying out the edict
of the law. She was removed a short
distance from the camp and shot The
object of thechtef 'a visit to Judge Wnit
man was to procure a coffin in which to
bury his child, he sot likinz the rude
mode of burial more generally adopted
by the savages. The judge kindly fur
nished a coffin that had been around
the court house for some time awaiting
a tenant The child was buried with a
great deal of ceremony, all the mem
bers of the tribe attending the funeral.
The old medicine woman was buried
without a coffla, a boJa baing dog two
or thrr ft dwp. ami h tumble! into
It In every day attire. Th I thn thin!
I cas' of I-nl.an j'ntioin;?. rurrW out
I that has come to our kn ,srj-,j in a fw
j wc-ks. Tfi we fall t br of any ar
rrsts. fcyiX ral.$Utrv1rL
How the Iinch V TurnrtI A!nt
Dr. KJtchie.
The ameexpvhent U not alw,ir suc
cessful tn oratory. Dr. (uUnio jrlr
in amuMn illtMlrati in of ihfci faS, in
hw charming a'tUbtgm:thy. In hU
early settlement at Ar:rUt. thrt vulnn
tan controversy wa h lv waifM ia Ua
whol region around htm. Dr. ilKabie,
an able man and a .sp.viV;er of grmit pop
ular power, wan trif len lr th? vol
untary side, and daU hard l4ow at the
established church. H was creating
a strong popular opinion In favor of
disestablishment, ami Dr. Guthrie Mt
it to be important to turn the tM. lit
had walked through the mml to lhtr
neighlonng town of Arbwalh. and Dr
Ritchie. In his X'ch. hod rliancM the
ministers of the establisNM church with
.Ivmg the lives of )Utrtt. faring
sumptuously every day. and lnthl
themselves In soft raiment When Dr.
Guthrie replied, he cam to Un front of i
he platform, and h!-bj up his foo
with a rough eountrv Uvt. iron clad.
and his psutahim lepatterel with
mud. he p dnted tott,aml looking round
the audience, said. "My friemls. Dr
Ritchie declares we are a set of dandles;
lo you call that the foot of adandy'i'
The appeal was Irresistible. The audi
ence sh ok with convulsions of laugh
ter, followed by cheers as Guthrie nt!
for several mlnutet looking at hLs fiot
with 11 comical smile.
Dr. Ritchie was struck with the ef
fective reply, and remrmered it for hLs
iwn use. At a later period he was
railed to answer the charge that his
party "were showing the cloven foot.'
The chance was too gtd to U ltL. .V
he came with confidence to the front of
'he platform, atllrM with ru'rupuhni
care, in knee breeches, silk stocking-!
tnd dress shoe, and extending hii
handsome limb, said lit a tone of trl
otnph.'Do you call that a cloven fot'r
But the invitation wili a dead failure;
for a gruff mechanic shouted. " Fake off
the shoe, sir. and we'll se." and the
augh turned against the D.ctor. I'rvv
idence Journal.
Tynilew Dancing.
Mr. Bailie Grohain gives us an ac
eount of a wedding which he attended t
tn Brandenburg, a little Alpine hamlet
in the valley of the same name. He had
to traverse a narrow bridle-path, which
was covered with snow to the depth of
'hreeand in some places four and five,
feet; it wits a seven hours' battle with
he snow before he reached the Inn of
Mie village, in which the weddings aro
dways held. lie was moved to over-w
'ffliii' these difficulties Iwrause he had
oromised to honor the wedding of a
charming young peasant girl and anjv--tal
jirot'yee of his own. "(VumtleH mi'
ttretehM hands, said he, "brawny and
nuscular, small and plump, clean and
lirty. were immediately ntrelched out to
rit me.
It was Sunday, and the eve of the
wedding day; the bar-room, or Gut
vtube.was filled with young and old. fair
tnd ugly Brandenburgers. It isnotuuu
oially the custom to dance on the eve of
he wedding day. but at his special re
quest his old patron, th "Herr Vicar
very soon put the musicians at work.
In the dancing room he wjis immedl
ttely surrounded by a group of young
fellows offering him, jls a mark of cour-"
tesy. their bright-eyed lasm. Finding
1 choice easy, he was soon dancing the
pn.t sail that 1h, one dance around the
room, while theoth-r couples line the.
walls and fall In at Its termination.
In Brandenburg, and In some other
valleys, the male dancer encircles the
waist of his partner with lth arms, 9
while she embraces hi in with lxth arms
around the neck. For the Mrst few min
utes of every dance the motion of the
A-hole group is slow, and the door trem
bles beneath the Iron-shod nhoesof theae
immense fallows. Suddenly the music
changes, and wllh It the entire aspect
of the room. The man, letting go bfe
partner, leglrw a series of gymnastic l
capers and jumps; their heavy frames
display an unlooked-for agility.
One of the commonest movements Is
to throw one's knee, fold both arms
over the chest, and bend backward un
til the back of the head touches the
floor, and gives a few sounding raps on
the hard boards, then, with one JrJ:he
man regains his erect position withouL.
touching the floor with his hands. In
another movement the man kn wis down,
and with his bare kna beat a sound
ing rat-a-tat on the floor. To jump high
up in the air and come down upon the
knees with full force is very common.
All these capers are accompanied by
oudrs hrill whlstlingand pecullaramll?
ng sounds of the lips and tongue, an
imitation of the sounds made by the
black cock and capercailzie. The sound
ing slaps on the muscular thighs and on
the iron-shod soles of the heavy shoes b7
their great horny hands, the crowing
loud shouts, snatches of song3, inter
mingled with shrill whistling and furi
ous stamping of the feet- with the great
eat possible force upon the floor, pro
duces a prodigious din.
In Brandenburg and one or two otb-:
Tyrolese valleys which have a partial-
larly muscular fair sex. the girl, at the
conclusion of her partner's feats, catches
him by his braces, and, aided by a cor
responding jerky action of the man,
hoists him up bodily. The youth, bal
ancing himself on both hands on her
shoulders, treads the ceiling of the Io
room to the music, while she continues
her dance round the floor. The men are
strapping fellows, and it must be mus
cular young' fellows who can perform
this feat There are sometimes four or
five men hoisted at a time, and the sin v
gular spectacle adds much to the stri
ing appearance of the ball-room. Tk
girls are fond of smoking, and are seem
treading the paces of the dance with
cigar ox pint betwaaa tbeir teeth.