Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, December 8, 1872, Page 8

THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1872 DIAMONDS. The Recent Excitement in the Far West. Immense Yield of Gems in Brazil--- Process of Washing---Biffer- ent Colors. Cold Weatker on the Plains---Animal Thermometers---Mule-Deer ==--The Mexicans. From Our Own Corregpondent. CAxF OX VERMTLLION RIvER, COL, ’I,,} Nov. 27, 1812 “What do you think sbout the diamond- ficlds?” Well, to tell you the fact, F'm d&—d if TJmow.” The foregoing is a part of tho high- toned dinlogue I listened to a fow hours 250, between two honest miners; and the con- clusion of onoe of them is about the same as the ope I have arrivedat. I domot know whether diamond-fields exist at all in the Rocky Mount- airs, but I do know I have seen whet I supposed were diamonds, end they stood every test they were submitted to in the most satisfactory man- wmer. [This letter was, of course, written with- out sny knowledge of the recent exposure at San Francisco.—Ep. Toisoxe.] But some peo- ple, who ought to know, bLave declared the whole thing to be a delusion and a spare, and I presume wa will have to submit to their decision. Others, however, still maintain that the dia- ‘mond mines aro substontial realities, and that jmmense amounts of precious stones will be iaken from the earth in Colorado and Wyoming on the return of warm weather. And now let us eay a few werds sbout thesc handsome strangers. DIAIONDS ARE FOUND in Hindostan, Brazil, Sumatra, Dorneo, the Tral 2Mountains, Australia, South Airiea, and occas- fonally in the Eastern States, generally in octa- hedrel or eight-sided erystals, in quartz conglo- merates containing oxides of iron ; alsoinearth, eand, and gravel, in loose and imbedded crystals, almost always of small size, and most frequent- 1y in company with grains of goldand platinum. Many diamonds were formerly found in India, but of late years the supply has fallen off, until it may be said o beve ceased eltogether from that quarter. The old India diamords were su- perior to those more recently found in Brazil, and seem to have been more brilliant. A large quentity of dizmonds are annuslly sent to Europe - FRO BRAZIL, : ‘which are found mosily in the allavial soil in thy districts of Serra do Frio, Minas Geraeg, and San Pzulo, and in the beds of rivers. The Brazilian miners distinguish the various diamond-pro- ducing soils in the unnsed beds of streams; in emall angular fragments of rocks bestrewing the ground; in fragments of rocks, eand, and cloy mived; end in conglomerate masses which they call cascalto. The masses of stone, which rarely exceed a foot in size, contain Ttacolumite) jasper (so named from the mountain of Ttacolumi) and garnets. Dia- monds are sometimes found on the top of Itambe Mountain, 5,600 feet above the level of the ces, and the highest land in the district. These gems were found in Brazil while people were searching for gold, theirtrue nature being un- suepected, and they were thrown away, or used 88 counters for card-players. True gems con- ceal their beeuties in” a ‘naturel state, the dia- mond in the rough being most unattractive, and would be thrown awey by tho casual observer as s worthless pebble; its perfections are hidden nnder & hard crust, which can only be removed by contact with ancther diamond, or with dia- mond powder, which is celled bort. Many fine gems have been spoiled while being polished. SENOR LOHO, of Brazil, who hizd seen rough diamonds in the East Indies, was the first: to discover the value of the Brazilian diamonds. He car- ried some to Lisbon, where their identity was establisned. The Eurcpean traders were afraid the market would be overstocked, and refused to have anything to do with the American stones, at the same time pronouncing them val- ueless. It was necessory to send the Brazilinn diamonds to the East Indies, and thence to Eu- rope, where the traders were induced to believe they were true India gems, before they could get them accepted by the dinmond merchants of of Europe. The riches of some of the Brazilian diamond placers 1S INCALCULABLE, and gold mining is abandoned as unworthy of attention, and left to the children. The crops of 21l the fowls that are Lilled ave carefully ex- amined, and often_ found to contain diamonds. A negro once found a stone weighjnilzfl graing adhering to the roots of & cabbage which he had pulled up for his dinner. Another negro, who been working in Minas Geraes, was sent to the Bahie district, Where, suspect- ing, from the similarity of the country, that it wos a diamond-benring region, he went to work, end soon discovered the precious stones. The , news spread like wildfire, and there was a rush to the new mines, such 25 oar people witneszed in later years when the gold mines of California were discovered. THE YIELD of the Brazilian mineshas become enormous, but is now greatly decreasing. In the first fifty years after their discovery, itis estimated that £60,000,000 worth were taken out. The dry sea- son lasts from April to the middle of October, when the rivers and streams become very shal- low,—the remaining water being carricd off in sluiceways, £o as to leave the bed of the stream dry. Thesoil is then dug from the bed to the depth of ten or twelve foet, and piled up near the washing huts. During the whole of the dry season, the workmen continue fo dig, and this dirt contains diamonds in £0 regular a proportion that ita value can be readily estimated. Some- times holes are found containing both gold and vdiamonds. After the dry season is over, the washing commences near the streams, which are now filled with water. Tho huts near the heaps of dirt sre furnished with long troughs, called canoes, in which the washing is done. The ne- groes take up enongh dirt to fill one of the canoes (about 100 pounds), and then allow a stream of water to run in, and continue to stir op the mass with their hands until the water runs clear, and all tho earthy particles are wushed away. The pebbles in the bottom of the tanoo are then examined one by one, and, when & diamond is found, a signalis given. Large diamonds are of very rare occurrence, and on en average of 10,000 stones there will not bo one of 18 cerats found. "_‘lxen the labor and pains are considered, the HARDLY COMPENSATES for the toil. The yearly produce of the labor of 500 men can readily be carried in the hand! Diamonds are the only uncut stones that be- come positively elcctr friction. In their rongh state, they lool iece of hardened steel, aund have s peouliar hard lustre, called adamantine, in the bright sunlight. T the hardest of all £tones, and, upoy | on an emery file, cannot be scrai they will wear a holo in the emer; Stonr g&onemrwdfly ground down on ono of thesa es. THEY ARE OF DIFFERENT COLOXS, e5 white, blu, red, yellow, green, pink, brown, black, opalescent, and orange, or yellowish rod. What is known as the rose-diamond refers to the peculiarity of its cutting, and not to its rose- solor. As to the value of diamonds, it is alto- ether a matter of fancy, though a gem of grains, properly cuf, is worth perhaps £100. Arough diamond, v ~ “ing 2 carats, or 8 grains, is worth zbout .u0, as it is es- Fimated fhat one-halfof it wiil be lost during tho rocess of cutting. Diamonds follow the same sts which govern the value of every other com- modity,—those of supply and demand; and, as the production of the gems has diminished, and the pumber of wearers greatly increaged, the price has gone on augmenting, and no doubt will continue to sugment. The price has enormous- Iy increased, during the last twenty-five years, on all stones below 5 carats in weight, although not 80 in the larger sizes, or, at all events, in snothing like the same proportion. DIAMOXD-CUTTING is a distinct branch of business, and is carried on more extensively in Amster than in any other mt,lv’. : Tt has been stated on good authority that all of the precions stones worn by the Americans, in what is celled the best society, at thecloseof the Revolution, were not 28 many in point of num- bers, nor 80 valusble, as those often womn by a gingle individual in Europe. Ourancestors were mm—— poor, and it istobe hoped they were corre- epondingly vittuous. ‘The present diamond escitement may have the effect of DEVELOPING A DESOLATE PORTION of the Rocky Mountain country, lying in Colora- do and Wyoming Territories, and may lend to discoveries which will be of value to the citizens of the Republic. It needs some such thing o8 this fo induce settlers to come in to this ele- veted region, bringing with them their Lnowledge of the arts, so that new communi- ties may. be formed, and mnew homes made for the American lfscople. A minin, population is_generally followed by an agricul- tural one, and the unfived habitations of the mines are replaced with the permanent homes of the farmers; provided it isin 2 lend where it is possible to raise stock or crops of any kind, It Thas been demonstrated that flocks and herds do well here, and there is no reason why they should not, as largo bands of deer, elk, and mountzin-sheep roam about near the base of the mountains. Bunch-grass is as nutritious as any that grows, and, though secminily dried up, is seized upon with avidity by all herbivor- ous animals. Cattle run out during tho whole winter without any shelter, and are in good con- dition when spring opens. 'This speaks well for the Rocky Mountain "climate, but is not 8o cred- itable to the cattle-owners, who might be at some little pains to build some shelters for them. FOR ONE, I AM HEARTILY SORRY that the diamond-fields havo not proved a grand success, and_that the brave men who breasted the bleak and frozen blasts of winter, in search of precious stones, have not met with the reward their enterprise and devotion have 80 nobly and truly merited. Encamping on a sage-covered plain, when the thermometer at night is 92 degrees below zero, is not, on the whole, a cheerful experience; but all hands seem to_eat their rations of venison with a peculiar relish. The water freezes in the tin-cups as we are conveying it from the creeks to our mouths, after having cut holes through the ice which covers the seid crecks. . The swift- ness of theso crecks alone prevents their being crystallized into one golid mass. The air is still, and perfectly calm, and, wero it not for this, it scems that men_aud animals would be frozen to death. In this intensely cold weather there is VERY LITTLE G. moving abont, both deer and el having hid themselves away in the dense thickets near the mountains, Even the grizzly bears, with their thick, warm costings of long hair, fail to pat_in an appezrance, and the whole country seems do- void of animal life. Sage-hens are occasionall; met with, their legs being incased in a thick growth of feathers. These are stupid birds, and asrapnk asa fitchew. This reminds me of a good one I heard from a distingnished officer of the army. Itis lmown that brevet rank does not entitle au officer to increased p:g. The old Genersl soys: “The words mused by King Claudins— €0, my offence is rank; it smeils to Heaven,’ have no reference to brevet rauk, as there isn’t 2 d--d (s)cent in it.” : There 1s nothing like a little cold weather now and then to induce a man to stir about. A good ‘warm fire is a most cheerful and inspiring epec- tacle, and, when the thermometer shows a grest degree of cold, it is a thing to be desired. One geologist gays he depends upon the appear- ance of THE MULE'S BACKS to tell how cold it was. When a mule is all Lumped up, and tho linir stands up harsh and 8tiff, you can bet your bottom dollaritis cold. That the whole of the poor animsls are not fro- zen stark and stiff, is something wonderful to me. WWhat patient animals they aro, end how long they will wait for a chance to lodge & rat- tling kick in the ribs of their owners. For long suffering and paticncennder all difficulties,com- mend me to a mule. Far and wide the mountains and plains are covered with snow, and sneaking prairie wolves and big-headed ravens seek here and there for something to eat. THE CAYOTES., or prairie wolves, are most persistent in thelr at- tentions, and T do not know that they can be reatly blamed, as they are almost famished. o eLalla Lttla hiatd o molves, aud 418 not at all strange that they endeavor to pay us off in our own coin. Big gray wolves are “occasionally Ecen, and they are reelly dangerous imals, Their skina are much sought for, and, when well tanned and properly sewed together, make fine winter-robes. I cannot conceive what they live on curing the winter-months, unless it is upon ground-moles, squirrels, and now end then a little enow-bird. " At best. they have a most unhappy timo of it, and are always hungry. I have secn, lately, several doer called ¢ MULE-DEER,” . from the great size of their ears. They aro ‘beautiful creatures, and, ot this time of year, are covered with a fine coat of hair, almost as soft as wool. It makes the old mountaineers angry to hear a person call these animals mule- deer; inasmuch 88 they claim that a mule-deer is a buck that hds been driven off by the rest of the herd, being, in fact, a crabbed and cross old bachelor of & deer, deserted by all of his kind. I don’t know how much truth there is in this, as old hunters, like old seilors, have somc curious superstitions. Black-tailed deer are the beauties of the mountains. Nothing can be more graceful than their movements and mo- tions, and nothing more charming than their wholé appearance. It seems almost & pity to Xill them; but, in theso cold mornings, s man is bound to have meat, no matter what happens. Coffee and deer-meat are the great desiderata of mountain-men. Formerly, they went in pretty heavy for whiskey; but this has fallen off great- Iy of late, end some bunters do not use it at all. Yermillion River rises in Wyoming Territory, and empties into Green River, which is a fribu- tary of the Colorado, or Grand River. It is somewhat strange that the Spaniards should name two rivers. IO GRANDE, whichare so close together,—the Colorado and Bravo both being called Grande. Below here 500 miles is the place wherc Escalente, the Span- ish cxplorer, crossed the river in 1776, aboat the time our Revolutionary War was fairly under wey. For many years afterward, the Spaniards keptup quite & trade with the Indians, who then, as now, roamed through this country. All of this conntry was discovercd in 1553, and was known as New Mexico, the whole of it was talten. ogsession of for Spein by Don Juin de Onato, T having been sent out by the Count de Monte- Tey, Viceroy of Mexico, in 1594. A great massa- cro of the Bpzniards, in their forts, or presidios, by the Indians, took place in 1680, when the Governor and all the Spaniards living retreated from Santa Fe, end founded the town of Paso del Norte. Tho whole country was reconquered by the Spanish after an eight years' war, but there was o deadly hatred between the two races formany years. Santa Fe, with the exception of San Augustine, is TRE OLDEST CITY 10 United States, it having been gettled in . Some queint old buildings may be found there, and a c.lce far niente state of society, ‘which is far from being disagreeable. THE MEXICANS 2re & good people, and, the more we geb ac- quainted with them, the better we like them. Their customs are different from our own,— some of them being beiter, and some’ worse. As a general thing, they are frugal, temperate, and honest. It will not doto judge of the Mex- ican nation by the few Ifalian bandits who have congregated mear the capital of that country, and who havo committed the most unheard-of atrocities. The new President, Senor Lerlo de ’Iejsdz& is a men of en]nrgedvie“'s and the most cxalted statesmanship. 1t is not going too far to say that ho 1is the foremost states- men mow _ living in_ the Spanish- American Republics. Juarez was a very able man, and the edministrations of these gentlemen have been far different from those of the old military chieftains, who could see nothing beyond the_army, and were ordinarily a8 weak s water. Idonot Lknow that this re- ‘mark will apply to OLD GENEBAY, ALVAREZ, ““The Panther of the Pacific,” as howas called, who was a sturdy Republican, and wore n wretched old torn straw_hat while he was Presi- dent of the Republic. He got tired of Leing President, resigned. and went off to Guerrero with his beloved Pintos. In the anpals of the world, I do not believe there ws ever a more genuine patriot thrn General Don Juan Alvarez, the idol of the Southern mountains. I saw the camp-fires of his soldiers on the hills which sur- round Acspuleo, tho town being st the time in %ceseasmp of Maximilinn’s soldiers, and the rench frigate Talisman being then in port. AzrGEBRA. —_— Washing Wagons. Most persons who own and use cerrizges or wagons doubtless think they know how and when to wash them, bat a few hints from the Carriage Journal may not be out of place : Washing wagons is too often looked upon as &n operation solely for the purpose of removing a cont of mud; this is one of the objects, and an important one, but the wagon should be washed. even when there isnomud on it. During the summer, the varnish loses its lustre, and as- sumes a dull, dirty appearance, unless it is fre- quently washed. "When a wagon is badly cov- ered with dirt, it is best to soak the dirt loose, by wejting it with a large sponge, but_not rubbing it. In cities, where water canbe forced through a pipe, the sponge nced not be used until the bulk of the dirt has run off, then use the egonge, commencing at the noper portion of the body. and do not wash over too much surface at = time, as_the water shonld never be allowed to dry on the body ; after wash- ing with a sponge, take clean water. and a chamois skin, and wash and dry immsd.\nteg with the chamois, After the body is washe wash the carriage part and then the wheels; in weshing the wheels be careful to clean the dirt out from between the spokes, and wipe perfectly dry. Immedistely after using a carriage in hot weather, the leather and trimmings should be dusted off, and the paint well washed and wiped a8 direcfod, using soft water if possible, but never using ealt water, a8 has beon recom- mended by some who aro afraid that the supply of water will give out in meny of our cities if it i used for other than drinking purposes. Care- ful washings will tend to herdon the varnish, re- move the particles of dust that would otherwise bed themeelves in the paint, and keep the car- riage fresh and clean. Tho leather top should 2lso be wiped off, and if an oiled cloth be rubbed over immediately after the leather had been dried with the chamois, it will do much toward preserving the lustre of the leather, and pre- venting it getting hard and shrinking. After washing, always rob the glated work with a ‘woollen cloth t{mt has a littlo rotten stone on it. Many & dollar in exsenee_ and much annoyance from having a soiled carriage may be. saved by thus caring for it. e SELECTIONS. BY DUFF PORTER, Misapplied and defeated as much of human effort is, still it is well to have struggled,—to have tested our latent energies. —TWhen Charity walks into the lowest places of want, we see the beantiful purity of her gar- ments most distinctly. —In order to force mankind to turn their eyes toward Him, God has willed that no object should contain within itself the first cause of its existence. —God made blossom-buds in every mature; and, if men do not blossom, they are deficient in the higher elements. - —Thero is no poverty o intolerable as pov- erty of the heart. —Nature fecls no loss, because God is always present to her. —The eternal round of the sea on every side has a tendency to wear away the edge of human thought and perception. —1In a discourse, we are moved not so much by what o man says, but by what he takes for granted. —Thousands listen to-day for & word which waits in the air and has never been spoken—s word of courage to carry forward the purpose of their lives. —Man's wisdom consists in cheerfally using present comforts, and diligently attending to present duties. —Do you know 8o much yourself that you call. the slave or the dull face ignorant? —Whatever God gives men as stepping-stones, they often make into stumbling-blocks. —The athlete who has been trained for the Olympian goal may tever attain it ; but he has, x‘!._i least, gained strength and vigor for a life- ime. —Duty puts a clear sky over every man, into which the skylark—Happiness—always goes sing ing. —Itis fearful to think how the world is get- ting on in material prosperity, and yet how littlo people are doing 29 they ought, even in small things, and how much farther they are from do- ing all of which their natures are capable. —Whatever would be injurious to tho raco were all to adopt and carry it out, it is the duty of each to shun. —2XMake your inward wants many, your out- ward wants few, has been the motto of those of strong character. —Woe to every eort of culture which destroys the most effectual means of all true calture, and directs us to the end instead of making us happy on the \vn{;. —The abrapt movements of the ocean are inexplicable, They form & perpetusl perhaps. —Nature is, literally, but o_way which God ‘has of making known to us His feelings, tastes, and thoughte, 2 ~—When we reflect that life is so full of neg- lected little opportunities to improve oursclves and others, we shall fecl that there is no need of aspiring after great occasions to do good. ~ Donubtless tho increasing knowledge of the “human race will clear up many & problem t0o in- tricate for the present ago to golve. —Every man carries law and judgment in himself, and there is no such thing as his escap- ing from it. —Law is o sort of a cock fight, in which it is the business of injured Lonesty to get & game bird, with the best pluck and the strongest spurs, p—Tn discipline and develop the children of the spirit, the immortal powers of our inmost boing, is the end of life. A 2 —Some lives are like pond-lilies; you think you have gathered all the gold and enow of them, and, when you go to look for your treas- ures. behold s little plain, brown, folded bud. —Love coming into & woman's nature is liko the last stroke of the artist’s pencil to the land- scape. —We glorify the supromacy of first love, 1s if the heart did not require a training as varied as the intellect. —Heaven may be a place for those who failed on earth. —God's care is more evident in some instances than others, to the dim and often bewildered vision of humanity. Upon such slight instances ‘men seize and call them Providences; but it would be gloriously better if they conld believe that the whole matter is one grand Providence. BRSNS i SONG AND MAID. A poct toiled over a song for the matd Who had plighted her troth to him, And he leaned and wrote in the gathering shade Tl his eyes were dim. But the maiden strolled on the distant beach, And listed another’s tender speech. The poct sang of her Tove-lit exe, So 6oftly and deeply blue; ‘How its soulful gaze, half arch, half ehy, ‘Ho only imew. But the maid’s blue eyes were ehedding their light On the face of a tall, dark man that night. He sang of her hand so white and fair, And soft as a hund conld boy And “the ring,” he eang, *that is gleaming there, Binds her to me.” But the maid to her tall companion said, “This ring? ’tis the gift of o friend that's dead.’» He gang of her ripe and dewy lips, + They ate roses before they blow; Andl tho taste from the nectar that from them drips, 1, only, know.” But the maid as she walked in the moonlight's mist, Lifted her face and was lovingly kiased. He sang of her voice, It is sweet and clear, As the voice of the gentlo dove, So tender that I alone can hear Her words of love.” ‘But the maiden whispered to one by the & 4T iove thes, duzling, aad only teen Ah, poct! finish our last light strain, £, maid! shall wo give you praise or blame, ¥ou ére wringing 3 heart with bifter pain et helping to lsurel a brow with fome. For out of the depths of a master woe, And through the valley of dark despair The soul of a singer must grope and go Ere ho wear the purple true poets wear, e i it ikl The Prophet of ¥Yahvch. . And now come tidings of new troubles aris- ing between Joseph Curry and the pious follow- ers he led from the echolastic precincts of Cam-~ ‘bridge, Mass., to found a new Jerusalem among tho heathens of Georgia. Of the hundred down- easters who accompanied him to his New Ca- noap, all seceded last summer save. ten men, three women, and five children. It sesms that, in his character as “ Prophet of Yahveh,' he was not_content to promulgate & new Teligious revelation, which they were willing to obey, but must needs make certain novel rules in regard to their property—a topic wpon which down-enst peoplo are not at all saolines 1o be superstitious. ~ When the seceders, including the prophet’s wife, had left him with such rop- arty a8 they could recover by law, Joseph egan to rule with s high hand the indigent few who remained true to the faith. Ho had all the watches and jewelry in New Canaan turned over fo him as forbidden gauds. He confiscated one of the remainiug females and_installed her as his ‘queen in the splendid tent he oc- cupied. He prophesied the destruction of tho high officers of the United States Government within four weeks, and announced that the con- trol of the country would then vest absolutely and by divine right in him ana the aforesaid gueen. Al this Was dulifully received by tho bn'l ful rempant; but when Joseph shaved off his Dair, whiskers, and_eyebrows, stripped off his clothing, declared himeelf & now A am, and insisted on” braving the vigors of the late cold Enepinno other costume but a paper mitre in- ls’crgbmi Holinees to Yahveh,” the faith of the eliovers began to waver, At last accounts they we(ie fleeingfrom tho wrath of the dread prophet, and praying the heathen magistrates round 2bout to issue posses: 3 ho had aobrobx?ated. RSbLas S s i | picces, somoHolland coins, Portuy EUGENIE GRANDET; oz, Scenes of Provincial Life. Translated from the French of DeBalzac for The Chi cago Tribune, XL Grandet came down stairs, thinking of speedi- Iy changing his Parisian crowns into good gold, and’ of his admirable speculation in renfes. He had made up his mind to keep his money invest- ed there till they got up to a hundred francs. A meditation fatal to Eugenie. So soon 28 hecame in, the two women wished him n Happy Nef Year,—his daughter with hugs and caresses, Madame Grandet gravely and dignifiedly. “Ah! ah! my child,” said he, kissing his daughter’s cheeks, - ““I am working for you, da youses? I want youto be happy. One must have money to be happy; without money, beg- gary. Look! here isa bran-new napoleon. I sent to Paris for it. On my word, there is not & grain 0f"gold here. Yon are the only ‘one who has gold. Show me your gold, little daughter.” “Bah! it is too cold; lot us have breakfast,” replied Eugenie. “Well, after breakfast, eh? It will -help our digestion. That big Des Grassins has sent us this pate,” continued he. ‘“So eat, my children; it does not cost us anything. Des Grassins is doing well, and Iam satisfied with him. The fellow has done Charles a gervice, and that gratis. He has managed the affairs of that poor dead Grandet very well. Whew!” gaid he, his mouth fll, after a pause, “this is good. Eat some, my wife; this nourishes one for a couple of days." “I am not hungry; I am very poorly, and you kmow it.” “Ob, tut! You can stuff yourself without fear of bursting; you are a La Bertelliere, a ; “You are a little bit yellowish, but The awaiting of o shameful and public death is, perhaps, less horrible for the condemned than was for Madame Grandet and her dasughter tho awaiting of the events which were to con- clude this family breskfast. The more merrily the old vine-dresser spoke and ate, the more the hearts of the two women contiacted. The dsughter had, nevertheless, o support at that time; she derived strength from her love. #TFor him, for him,” said she to herself, I would suffer a thousand deaths.” As ghe theught thus, she gave her mother looks blazing with courage. ““Take away all this,” eaid Grandet to Nanon, when, about 11 o'clock, breakfast was ended; “but' leave 18 the table. Itwill bo morecon- venient for usto see your little treasure,” said he, looking at Engenie. “ Littlo! on my word, no. You have what is intrinsically worth five thou- sand nine hundred and fifty-nine francs, and forty this moming, making six thousend francs, Jess'one. Well, T will give you, myself, that franc to make up the full sum, because you ses, little daught——Well! why are you listening to us ? Show me your heels. "Nanon, and go about your work,” 5id the goodman. Nanon disappear- ed. ¢ Liston, Eugenio ; you must givomo your 5:11 You will not refuse your father, my little ughter, ehi” The two women were maute. ‘I have no gdd. Ihad some, but Ihave it no longer. I will band you over six thousand francs in livres, and you will invest thera as I will show you. Itis unrecessary to think of the ‘dozen.’ ‘When I marrysou off, which will be shortly, I will find you s husband who can offer youthe most becutiful ‘dozen’ ever talked of in the provined. Just listen, daughter. An ex- cellent opporfunity offers itself, You can put your six-tkousand francs into Governmont Becurities, and every six months you will have about two hunired francs in interest, frea from tax, or repairs, or hail, or frost, or tido, or any of those things which meddle with incomes. Perhaps you donot like to eeparate yourself from your gold, eb, daughter? Butbringit to me anyhow. I win pick you up some gold eges, rupees of tho Mogul, and Genovines ; and, with those'T shall give you on_your birthday, in threo years you will have replaced half of your pretty little trensure in gold. What do* you say, daughter? Lift up your nose. Come, go for it, the dear treasure. You ought to kiss me on the eyes for telling me sbout the secrets_and mysteries of life and death for crowns. Verily, crowns live and move like men; thoy come, they go, they sweat, they produce.” % Eugenie rose ; but, after having taken s fow stops toward the door, she turned sharply around, looked her fether in the face, and said to him: “T have not got my gold.” “You have not got your gold!" exclaimed Grandet, straightening himself up on his hams, like a horge which hears a cannon fired within ten paces of it. . +No, I have not got it.” “You are mistaken, Eugenie.” “No.” ¢ By my father’s pruning-kmife!” thx;{en e cooper used that oath, the ceilings 00k. £ Good God! Madame is turning pale,” cried Nanon. “ Grandet, your anger will kill me,” said the POOT Woman. “Ta, ta, ta, ta! you folks, you never die in your family. Eugenie, what have you donec with your coins?" said lm, turning upon her, “8ir,” said the daughter, who was at Madame Grandet’s knees, *‘my mother is suffering ex- cessively. See, do not kill her.”” Grandet was frightened by the pallor which had come over his wife's face, once so yellow. *Nanon, come and help me to go to bed,” said the mother, in 2 faint voice. ¢Iam dying—" Nanon at once gave her arm to her mistress ; Eugenie did the same; and it was but with great trouble that they were abie to get her to her room, for she sunk down in & swoon at almost every stop. Grandet remained alone. Never- thelees, in a few minutes he went up seven or sight steps, and called out, *Eugenie, when your mother has gone to bed, you wiil come down.” #Yes, my father.” Bhe did not fail to come, after having roas- sured her mother. My daughter,” said Grondet to her, * you are §?ing to tell me whero your treasure is.” My father, if you meke me presents over which T have not complete control, take them back,” replied Eugenie, coldly, getting the na- oleon from tho mantelpiece, and handing it to Grandet snatched the napoleon, and slipped it into his pocket. 3 “Iam quito certain I shall never give you anything more. Not even this,” eaid he, snap- ing his thumb-nail between his teeth. ‘‘So you gespiao your father; you have no confidence in him; you do not know what afather is. If he is not everything for you, he is nothing. Where is your gold 2” L ¢}y father, I love and respect you, notwith- standing your anger; but I will very humbly call your attention to the fact that I am 22 years old.” You have told me that T am of age quite often enough for me to know. I have done with my money what it pleased me to do, and be sure that it is woll invested —" “Whero 7" Pk “That is an inviolable secret,” said she. “ Have not you your secrets ?” “ Am not I the head of my family? CanInot have my owa private concerns?” 4Thig js my private business.” « Tt must be & bad business if you cannot tell it to your father,. Mademoigolle Grandet.” 47t s o good one, and I cannot tell it to my father.” £ ‘ B « At lenst, when did you give your gold? Eugenie made & negative sign \vlfl.\flher head. “Did you have it on your birthdsy ? Eugenie, as cunning from love a8 her father from avarice, repeated the ssme motion of the head. E 4 Never waa there seen such obstinacy, or such a robbery,” said Grandet, in a voice which went crescendo, and which gradusily made tho house resound. ¢ What! here, in my own house, in my house, some one could have taken s'our gold! —the only gold there was there l—and I am not to know who! Goldis a dear ’cbms. ‘The best daughters may commit faults, and give away triflea; that happens with great Lords, and cven among the middle closses: but to give gold,— for you gave it to gomebody, eh?” ie was unmoved. 1 E‘;)gi?ln any one ever §eo such & girl?. AmI your father? If you have invested it, you have 2 receipt—' A «yasI free, yes ormo, to do w‘!th it what scemed good tomo? Was it mine? + But you are o child. T am of ago.” . B Stupefied -by his dsughjer's reasoning, Gran- det became pale, and stamped and swore ; then, 2t last finding words, be cried : * Cursed serpent: of a daughter ! oh, bad weed! you know Ilove you, and you teke advantage of it. 'Sbe is _cut- iing her father's throat. Dy God! you have thrown our fortano at the feet of that misorable fellow who has moroceo boots. By-my father's pruning-knife! I cannot disinherit you, not to tho extent of a cask of wine ; but I curse you,— von. vour cousin ond vour childrenl You will never see anything good come out of this, do yon hear? If it was to Charles to whom —— But no, it is not possible. What ! could that wrefch- ed dandy haie robbed me 7" _Ho looked at bis danghter, who remained silent and _cold. ¢ She wiil not now move ; she will'not shrink. She is more Grandet than I’ am. “4ou have not given your gold for nothing, at least. Letus see;” speak !” Tugenie looked at her father, snd gave himan ironical glance, which offended him. ¢ Engenie, you aro in my house, with your father. 1f you stay here you must obey my orders. Tho priests ordor you to obey me.” Enugenie inclined her head. | “You offend me_in what is dearest to me,” continued he. *‘I donot want tosee you un- less you are obedient. Go fo your room. You will stay there till I allow you to leave it. Nanon will carry you bread and water. You have heard me ; march I” Eugenie burst into tears, and went to her mother’s room. After having taken several turps around the garden in the enow, without noticing the cold, Grandet suspected that his daughter must bo with his wife, and, delighted to catch her disobeyi: 1? his ordere, he slipped o the stairs with the agility of a cat, and appeare in Madame Grandet’s room as she was stroking Eugenie’s hair, whose face was buried in the maternal bosom. . “ Consolo yourself, my poor child! your fatber will goften—" ey % She has no father !" snid the cooper. “Isit really you and I, Madsme Grandet, who have begottén such s disobedient dsughter as this? A eretty education, and a very religious one. Well! are you in your room? Go!—to prison, to grison, mademoisclle!” ity Will you deprive e of my danghter, sir?” said Mademe Grandlet, showing s face flushed with fever. “1f you want to keep her, take her away, clear out of the house, both of you. Thunder! where is the gold >—what has become of the gold? Eugenie rose, gave her father a proud look, and went into her room; whereupon the good- man locked it. L2 He called out, “Nanon, put_out the sitting- room fire.” He seated himself in the arm- chair by the corner of his wife's fire-place, and said to her, ¢ she has doubtless given it to that miserable seducer of a Charles, who wanted merely our mon?." . s AMedame Grandet found, in the danger which threatened her dsughter, ind_in her feeling for her, strength enough to remain apparently cold, deat, and dumb. e < “1 knew nothing of all this,” said she, moving gway from the edg: of the bed, 80 23 to escape the fiery looks of her husband. * I am suffer- ing so much from your violence that, if I can believe my presentiments, I shall only go out of here feet foremost. You ought to haye spared me now, sir—I who have never caused you any sorrow—at least, I think not. Your daughter Ioves you, and I believe her es_innocent as s new-born child ; 8o do not grieve her ; take back your order. The cold is very sharp; you may be the causo of some serious i e illness.” I will neither see her nor speak to her. 1€ ghall stay in her room, on bread and water, until sho has' satisfied her fathor. The devil! the head of of o house ought to know where the gold of his house goes. Shohad perhaps the only rupees in France, with Genovines, the Holland ducats—" ’ . 4 Sir, Fugenie is our only child, and, evenif she had thrown themin the water—" ” “In thewater!” cried the goodman; “in thewater! You are crazy, Madame Grandet. What I have said is said, and you know it. If you want to have peace in ti honse, make your daughter confess. Pump her. Women can do this 10 ono another better than wo men can. No matter what she has done, I will not eat ber. Is she afraid of me? ven if she has gilded her cousin_from_ head to feot; heis on thehigh seas, ch! o cannot run after—" iz #VWell, sir,"—excited by the mervous crisis sho was undorgoing, or by the misfortuno of her daughtor, which developed her tenderness and intelligence, Madome Grandet's perspicacity led her to notice 2 terrible motion of her hus- band's wen, just s eho was answering; she changed her idea without changing her tone,— “Yell, sir, have Iany morecontrol over her than you have; she is like you.” 3 ““Ligrd ! sour tongug is woll hung this morn- ing. Ta, ta, ta, ta! Ido believe youare brav- ing me. Perhapsyou hayean understanding with her.” =i He looked steadfastly at his wife. “ Really, Mr. Grandet, if you want to Lill me, all you havo to do is to leop on in this way. I tell you, sir,—and, even wero it to cost me my lifo, T would repeat it,—that you are acting wrongly to your daughter ; she i8 more reason- able than you sre. That money belonged to her ; she conld mako Ko other than & good use of it ; and God alone has 2 right to know our good works. Sir, I be’f you to be Lkind to Eugenic again. You will thus lessen the effect of the blow your anger has caused me, and you will perhaps savo my life. My daughter, sir! give me back my daui;mer!" ) 1 amgoingto clear out,”said he. My house is no longer inhebitable ; mother and daughter reason and talk as if— Bah! Pah! You have given me & cruel New Year's gift, Eu- enie 1" cricd he. © Yes, yes, cry! What you ave done will canse you remorse, understand. What good does it do “you to_go fo communion gix times every three months if you secretly give your father’s gold to_ o sluggard, who would eat our heart if you had nothing elso to offer him ? §uu +will seo what your Charles is good for, with his high and m.lghtg:rire. He has neither heart nor soul, since he_dares to cAITy away & poor girl's treasure, without her parent’s consent.” When the street-door was shut, Eugenie left her room, and went to her mother. “Yon have been very courageous for your daughter,” said ghe to her. 5 A “Yo you seo, my child, whero wrong things leadus? You have made me tell a lie.” #Qh!Iwill ask God to punishme alone for it I e “Jgit true,” said Nanon, coming in with a frightened aif, ** that Mademoiselle here is to live on bread and water the rest of her days? ™ \What does that matter, Nanon ?” snid Euge- nie, quietly. S dAn! nik mnch frippe shall I eat when the daughter of the house lives on dry bread! No, o 0. “Not a word of all this, Nanon,"” said Euge- nie. « My mouth will be sealed; but you will see.” Grandet took dinner alone, for the first time for twenty-four years. “8o yfi ore n.};\'ido\rar, gir?” said Nanon. “It ia very dissgreesble to bo = widower, with two ‘women in the house.” #1 was mot talking to you. Hold your tongue, or I will put you out! ~What have you got in your stewpan, which I hear boiling up on thestove ?” ] am'melting some fat.” *Company will come this evéning; light the fire. The Cruchots, Madame Des Grassins and her gon, came af 8 o'clock, and were surprised to see neither Madame Grandet nor her daughter. )y wife is a little out of sorts; Eugeniois with her,” replied the old vine-dresser, whose face betrayed no emotion. After an hour spent in unimportant conversa- tion, Madsme Des Grassing, who hed gone up to geo Mademe Grandet, came down, and every- body asked her, ‘‘ How is Madame Grandet ?” ¢“Not at 2l well, not at all,” said she. * The state of her heaith seems to me very alarming. At her age, it is necessary to take the greatest precantions, Papa Grandat.” “VWe will see_about that,” answered the vine~ dresser, in an abgent-minded way. Everybody bade him good night. When the Cruchots were in the street, Madame Des Gras- sins said to them: * Something new is going on 2t the Grandets. The mother is very sick, and does not even_suspect it. The daughter's eyes are as red as if she had been crying for & 1ong timo. Do they went to marry her gainst her will ?” * ‘When the vine-dresser was abed, Nanon stole up to Eugenie's room in her stocking feet, and ghowed her 2 patty made in the stewpan. “Take this, mademoiselle,” said the good girl. * Cornoiller has given me a hare. You Gat go little that this patty will Jast you for o good eight days, and, on account of the jellying, there i8 no dangerof its spoiling. At least you will not live on dry bread. That is not healthy ab all.” £ ¢Poor Nanon!” gaid Eugenie, pressing her hand. B T made it very nice and very delicate, and he did nqt notice it. I got the lard, the bay-leaves, everything, with my six francs; surely I can do what I please with them.” Then the servant hurried off, fancying she heard Grandet. For several monthsthe vine-dresser constantly cama to sce his Wife at various hours of the day, without speaking his daughter’s name, without geeing her, and without making the least refer- ence to her. Madame Grandet did not leave her room, and_dey by dsy -her _condition worsened. Nothing bent the old cooper. He remained unshaken, rugged and cold as a gilo of granite. Ho went and came asusual; ut he quit stammering, talked less, and showed himself harder in business matters, than ever before. He often failed to notice an error in ‘his calculations. % Something has hapé:ened atthe Grandets',” gaid the Cruchotins and the Grassinists. “What has happened at Grandet’s?” was the regular question universally ssked at all the evening guties at Saumur. Eugenie went to church un~ ler the oversicht of Nanon. If. es ghe left the church, Madame Des Grassing made any in- quiries, she replied evasively and without satis- fying her curiosity. Still, it was impossible, after two months. {0 keep hidden, either fron the three Cruchots _or from _Madame Des Grassins, the fact of TEugenie's seclusion, There came a time When pretexts were failing to acconnt for her coustant absence. Then, without its being possible to know by whom the secret had been betrayed, the whole town learned that, since New Year's Day, Made- moiselle . Grandet had been, by her father's order, shut up in her room, on bread and water, without fire; that Nanon made delicacies for her, and carried them to her at night; and they even knew that the young woman could see and nurse her mother only while her father was ont of the house. s Grandet’s conduct was then judged very severely. The whole town put him outside the pale of the law, as it were, remembered hig treasons, and his hard acts, and excommunicated him. When he went by, every one pointed at him, and whispered. When his daughter went along the winding street to a mass or to vespers, eccompanied by Nanon, all the residents st atthe windows, to look curionsly at the behavior of therich heiress, and at her face, where an- gelic melancholy and mildness were portrayed. Her seclusion, gnd her father's ill-will, were nothing to her. Did not she sce the map of the world, the little beach, the garden, and the bit of wall ; and did she not_she recall to her lips the honey that loving kisses had left there? For some time, as well ss. her father, she was ignorant of the way they talked about her in the city. Re- ligious, and pure before God, her conscience and her love helped her to bear with patience her father's anger and vengeance. But s profound sorrow came to silence all others. Day by day, her mother—a mild and tender creature, who was adorned with the radiance her soul emitted a8 it neared the grave—was wearing away. Eugenie often reproached herself with having ‘been the innocent cause of the painful, the slow sickness which consumed her. This remorse, though quieted by her mother, bound her all the more closely to her love. Iivery morning, 50 800n a8 her father had gone out, she came to the head of her mother’s bed, and thers Nanon brought her her breakfast. But poor Eugenie, sad, and suffering from her mother’s pains, called Nanon’s attention to her tace by a eilen! gesture, wept, and did not dare to speak of her cousin. Madam Grandet was compelled, first of all, tosay toher: ¢ Where is hie? Why does not he write 2” s ¢ Let us think of him, my mother,” answered Eugenje, ‘‘ and not speak of him. You suffer, —you more than all others.” ¢ All others " meant * him.” ¢ My children,” eaid Madame Grandet, I do not regret life. God has shielded me by causing ‘me to contemplate with joy the end of my suf- feringa.” ‘The words of this woman were always holy and Christian. When, as she wag breakfasting, her busband came to walk about her room, she said to him, during the early monthsof the year, the same things, repeated with angelic mildhess, but with the firmness of & woman to svhom approaching death gave the coursge she had lacked during her life. < Sir, I thank you for the intelest you iake in my health,” replied she, when he had_asked her the most common of questions; *‘‘but, if you want to make my last moments léss bitter, and torelieve my eufferings, take your daughter ‘back into your favor; show yourself s Chris- tian, a husband, and a father.” ‘When Grandet heard these words, he sat down. by the bed, and behaved like 8 man who, seeing the coming of a shower, quietly gets under shelter in an archyay ; he listened to his wife in silence, and made no reply. When the most touchin;i; the tenderest, the most religious en- treaties had been made to him, he said: “ You are s little pale to-day, my poor wife.” The most ntter forgetfulness of his daughter seemed to be engreved on his stony forehead and his compressed lips, He was not evenmoved by the tears which his indefinite answers, whose word- ing was hardly varied, caused to flow down the ‘white face of his wife. “ oy God forgive you, sir,” said she, *asT do. You will deed mercy someé day.” Since his wife's sickness, he had not dared to use his terrible * T, ta, ta, ta!” But still his despotism had not been disarmed by that angel of mildness, whose ugliness disappeared day by day, driven off by the expression of the moral qualities which came to blossom on her face, She was all soul. The spirit of prayer seemad to purify and lessen the coarser characteristics of fiar face, and made it radiant. Who has not noticed the phenomenon of that transfiguration on holy faces, when the temperament of the soul finally triumphs over the most roughly- shaped features, by giving them that special animation due fo the nobility and the purity of lofty thoughts? The sight of this transformation, wrought by the sufferings which ‘wero consuming the remnants of existemce in this woman, acted, though but slightly, on the old cooper, whose character remained of bronze. If lus speech was o longer contemptuons, an imperturbable sitence, which saved his superior- ity a8 head of a family, controlled his conduct. If his faithful Nanon made her appearance at market, straightway some mocking remarks, some complaints, about her master, buzze: about her ears; bui, though public opinion openly condemned Father Grandet, the servant defended him out of pride for the house. “Well," said she to those who wero abusing the good man, “do not we sll get harder a3 we grow old ? Why cannot you let that man toughen alittle? Sohush up your lies. Mademoiselle lives like & queen. e is alone? Well, it is her uwn fancy. Besides, my masters have good reasons.” 3 [To be continued next week.} FASHION. Fashion now permits brides to appear in col- ored dresses. —@Gentlemen are beginning to wear the “gants Suedes ” as well as ladies. 2 —A watch chain and locket are out of place for full dress. —New York swells wear giraffe-hide boots. They like leather that hes some * stretch ” to it. —Such unpleasant scenes _have occurred in New York at several late wedding receptions un- der the influence of Mesars. Mumm and Roeder- er, that these two gentlemen are hereafter tobo stn'cé.ly excluded from this sort of entertain- ment. < —There is a certain esteblishment on Sixth avenue, New York, where Beau Brummel cen hire o clean shirt, white tie, gloves, and dress suit at a moderate price per night. —Several of the New York church anthorities have refused to alloy their buildings to be used for weddings_hereafter, unless cards of admis- sion to the church are issued, thus compelling peogl; to propriety nolens volens. —In slippers, 2 novelty is a trimming of two tiny.rosettes—one high on the instep, and the other directly below it. The first is fastened on elastic, and the stocking is visible between it and the lower one. Where nature has not given the beauty of 3 high instep, this_ slipper 18 ad- vantageous, and was first worn, it is said, by a popular French actress. —Feather flowers aro the latest. They are made in Florida, and the new branch of indus- try promises to become very remunerative. The flowers are made of the beautiful plumage of tke white heron, while the leaves are taken from the paroquet. They are already very fashionable among Southern ladies. = —A novelty in card cases is a star-shaped affair, which combines the utter impossibility of holding it gracefully with a peculiar faculty for catching in one's laces. Made in shell, it is, however, very pretty. : —A mnovelty in ,wear for the neck is large silk handkerchiefs of various shades to match the dress or_contrast well withit. We have been informed that these are recommended by physi- cians in lien of furs about the - throat, which are a prolific somrce of sore throat from over-heating that it can be vouched for by personal expe- rionce. Silk is much mora comfortable, and we may state that a certain tenor in New York inva- riably cures sore throat by tying a black silk ‘handkerchief about his neck, which cure he at- tributes to the dye in the material, —A verybeautiful parurefor the headisalarge spread water-fly comb, fastened by a tiny chain t0 a gimilar, but amn!ler, water-fly, which is in- tended to buzz—if water-flies do buzz—above tho brow. Both flies are megnified untit they look eleven times as large as nature. With the comb is a pair of ear-rings of small water-flies, and a brooch en suife. The rival of the water-fly on hats, bonnets, in parures, and in certain very costly and elegant buttons, is the dragon-fly. The besuty of the wings and the delicacy of form of this insect make it a very handsome or- pament for thoge who do not object to imitation insects a8 a decoration. English Beer. It is interesting to learn something of the national beverage of Great Britain. The English town of Burton-on-Trent is almost wholly given up to the manufaciure of beer. In fact the breweries are the town, and the interstices between the broweries simply contsin some dwelling houses. The immense breweries of Bass, opp, Inde, Coope, Worthington, Salt, Evershed and Robinson, are all Nunneley, there, besides others of lesser mote. Bass alone has thrael brswmixg; m@?&“gféfi' altogether o little over BCT Bass used, last year, 267,000 quarters of malt for brewing purposas; if it be reckoned that an scre grows four a barlev. 86.750 acres were oconpied in growing the malt which Bast used. Of hops, his consnr;opfion was 29,000 cwt., which engrossed about 2,000 acres of hop-grow- ing country. In malt-tax andlicense-duty, Basa Emd, last “year, £200,000. . The total brew of asg, during the past year, amounted to 720,000 barrels—each barrel containing thircy-six gal- lons; so that Bass counld have served mose than half the estimated number of the human race with & glass of beer per head from his brewing of one year. Throughout his Burton premises Bass owns over five miles of private railway, runs five private locomotives, and uses twenty-six steam engines, with a col- lective horse power of 436. Bass employs over 2,000 persons, and psys more that £2.000 in weekly wages. Bass used last year 83,300 tons of cosl. Bass bas in use 50,000 butts, 14,000 hogsheads, 113,000 barrels, and 249,000 kilder- kins, a stock of casks in all, in store and scatter- ed over the country, exceeding helf & million. COME AND GONE. Just for 8 moment the baby cames Just for a moment its faint, sweet cry; Just for 4 moment, I felt the flame Of o soft life clasp me tenderly. Just for a moment, and then away Back to the calm out of Time’s wide whirl ; Just for & moment, enough to £ay, # Mother,” and emile at the Gates of Pearl. e Fire-Proof. A writer in the American Artisan %;opnus & novel device for making buildings fire-proof, and wonders that no architect ever thought of 80 obvious & plan. He would make up the par- tition of the walls of buildings in a manner analogous to eectional steam boilers, and fill them with water ; then no fire could bs commu- nicated from one building to another till the water had all boiled aways The water spaces need not be made more than one inch in thickness, and might be constructed of thin sheets of metal. Nothing can burn until heated to the temperature at which it combines with oxygen, and the partitions could never reach this tem&mmta 80 long as they were kept sup~ plied with water, since each atom of that fuid 1¥ & swift yehicle to seize and carry away the heat. No solid material Imown to the artsis capabls of withstanding the heat generated in such groab - fires of Boston and Ohicago. Ta £l the conditions so long vainly sought in endeavoring to render buildings absolutely fire- proof, something is required that heat will nol melt, or warp, or crack, and otherwise 80 imper- vious to air that fire cannot communicate with combustibles stored in buildings; or means must be found by which the force of the heat canbe ex,g::dea upon eomething we can afford ta ‘waste. t material is water, and the writer in the Artisan thinks he has pointed out the righ way to use it. —— —The Princess of Wales, on her husband’s birthday, ngressntad to the Sandringham Church o beautiful lectern as a thanksgiving memorial for the recovery of his Royal Highness. The lectern is in the form of a brass eagla with out- stretched wings, bearing on the breast a red croas, and having beneath the inscription: “To the glory of God..A thank-offering, Dec. 14, 1871." Alexandra. ‘When I was in trouble I called npon the Lord, and He heard me.’—Psalm cxx., verse 1.” RAILROAD TIME TABLE. ARRIVAL AND DEPARTERE OF TRAINS. Winter Arrangement. * T e camian: Moty i ey < . * Sunc 8xce] .. 3 Monday exce N o Sunday a¢8:30 . . § Datly. ¥ CHICAGO & ALTON RAILROAD. Chicags, Alton & St. Louis Through Line, aad Lovistana (o.) neiw short route from Chicagoto Kansas City. Union Depot, West Side, near Hadison-at. bridge. ZLear ' Arrize. St. Touls & Springicld Express, b nateld Bapress 5 a. m. [t B:0p.m. XEspsas City Fast Express, vial ‘Jacksonville, Ill., and Louisi-| vty v 955 m.|* 820 p. m. 'Wenom..w ‘press (West 8:10p. m. terh Division. 9 p. m. Jolies & Dwight Accomo'dation, (¢ 4:10 p. m. Sg Louis & Spriagteld Lightning ‘Express, via Main Line, andalso| ~ia Jacksonyille Division........| 79:00 p. m. Eansas Cit via ° 8:408. m! [#47:20p. m. Toally, via ain Line, and dail Saturday, vi Jacksonilo Division. . Dai A i S hn:fmw except Monday, via Jackson Dis vision, CHICAGO, BURLINGTON & QUINCY RAILROAD. Depots—Foot of Lakest., Indianaas., and Sizteenth cnd Canal and Sizteenth-sta. Ticket ofice in Briggs Housa and at depots. c Downer’s Grove Accommodation| ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD. Depot faot of Lakest. and foot of Tucaly-second. e, T e Canal-st., corner of Jfadison. %02 Saturdays this train will be run to Champaign. CHICAGD, INDIANAPOLIS & CINCINNATI THROUGH LINE, VIA KANKAKEE ROUTE. Zvaina arrice and depart from the Great Central Railroad Depat, soot of Lake-st. For ihroush tickels and sleeping+ car berths apply at Ticket ofice, 5 Canalst., corn— ifadie son; 120 Washington-st.; Tremont House, corner Congress. at. and Michigan-av.; Glso foot of Tucenty-second-s. Ieave Chicay Arrive at Indian: 5o ZArrive at Clocinnat .. . Trains arrive at Ghicago at 7:00 Oaly lino running Saturday night train The entiro train runs tarough to Cincinnati. elcepers on night trains.. CHICAGO & NORTHWESTERN RAILRJAD. Ticket office, 31 West Madison-st. Ziavs, N i & Paclfio Fast Line.. Dobuque Day Express. Eacific Night Express. ubuque Night Expre: Freeport & Dubuque Express.. Frooport & Dubr Milwaukes Mail. Milwaukee Ailwaukee Passongar., Milwaukee Passenger (daily). Green Bay Expres: Green Bay Express . SELELE ¥ {7 FERPRERERRER T B CHICAGO, ROCK ISLAND & PACIFIC RAILROAD. Depot, corner of Harrison and Shermanwis, Ticket ofics gl R st Hadisonet, s Teare. | drrive. Night. ress. .. e LAKE SHORE & MICHIGAN SOUTHERN RAILROAD. Depot, corner Harriton and Sherman-sts, Ticket efice, southwest corner Hadison and Canal-ats. Zeave, Arrics. Mail, vis Adr Line and Main Line| York ia| Special Net “Air Line. * 8:00 p. m. -Atlantic 00 3. . Night Express, via Alain Line. 30a. m. South Chicago Accommodation. 30 p. I Elkhart Accommodstion.. *10:10 3. m. CHICAGO, DANVILLE & VINCENNES RAILROAD,“‘ TR AR T inzie 3 P ofice %) C. . L. > i isied o Casrotints. - Fyelyhi and Ticked afion, 168 ner Halste Tuking offect Dec. 1, 1872, Washinglon-st, Arrive. *1:40p. m. 00 p. ma2 7303 me P vy & ors Haats PITTSBURGH, FORT WAYNE & CHICAGO RAILROAD. Bl Bress c Exproas. {;‘fzm Valpas MICHIGAN CENTRAL & GREAT WESTERN RAILROADS. £ d Ticenty-second-at. Deroty o ot ot mornetof Tt rrive. Mail (vie main and air line). Ex * 5:30a. m.| 4345 p. m. 210 p. m. [1%35:00 8 m.. 19:10p. m. 2. m. e HENRY 0. WENTWORTH, ‘General Passanser Asant