Evening Star Newspaper, November 7, 1874, Page 6

od night unto that fragile band, | All qucen!y with ite weight of rings; Good night to fond, up'iftet eyes, j Good night to chestnut braids of hair, Good night unto the perfect mouth, H Aud all the sweetness nestled there— | The snowy hand detains me. Tea | Pll have to say good night again! il come a time, my love, , if 1 read our stare wright, Tsbail not linger by this parca Ww my eus. sil then, gol bight! You wish the time were now? And I. You do not biush to wish it so? You would have blushed yourself to death To own so much a year What! both these snowy hands’ ah, then, to say goud night again! Thomas Bailey Aldrich. AFTER ALL. asked Helen Deno, erandat, where Tom | aring abstracted |y’ at tue cloud- esky ying to devise coma new method ot ff the mortal coil.” Tom answered, jglted cigar on the railing beside NO HER “Have matters reached sach a desperate eondit you? hed bie companion. pected i D, not myself, wh: is to be sent | an yoa give | i have made Town weari- ro—acsistant hero, must be remove it in a commonplace fa know what 4 benevolent Helen, nor how much I have of my kind since first I At the lowest estimate ed to tha orrow- ree dozen heirs and heir- (cawberry marks aud If it were not anity, my sta- mo, anid exe- : merican art, would dorm Centra! Park or (ale square. I like to be a lost heir myself,” he went on to be one it ix necessary to ne eyes and pollen hair and raven locks and fathomless ssi¢ features, and rot one of | nkind ature see fit t> | am homely—not evan pic- y at that—do you kaow it, | jully t with and wt snowy brow; or dark orbs ard enough to contrat. she re _ gathering some of the crimson leaves | trom the Virginia creeper and pu then into ber belt as she spoke. “Give them to please,” said Tom, | Pg cut his t She shook her head, and pointed to the vine. “For a rento of this evening, pleaded, ina tone which was far from’s ial. ‘Liew many mementoes have vou already? oned abe, still kee ni the leaves. A dead rose—+om plant, which now | looks and smells decidedly bayey—a glove ute and Of nO Dossibis use » | enumerated with them lined to laugh. Keep winter e when the fre gets low and my c'garia smoked | out,” Tom answered. “(ne mist have help to misery xs weil as happiness.” ' em w sigh ov that be so, bere are the lea laying | them in bis hi “May they contribute their small share toward makinc you wretched, since | for that you desire them.” “A thousand thank!” he exciaimed, putting the coveted poseession into bis pocket-pook, | where the dead rose already reposed. | «Where are your collections?” asked Helen, “I presume you have made quite a number | within the past ten year “To tell the truth,” replied he, “I barned | them after pilfering your giove. Ido not wish | to get the trites mixed and so mis; lace my re- | xrets, you see. | Helen bit her lip a avowal. ‘Are you alwa: Never,” he answered the straightfor travk, Mr. Fo ‘except when cr If diplomacy | fledged Machiavelli instantly: * with a quick, furtive glanc @ sigh. | “Well st conten with the dead | fowers and crumpled ribbons which you baye | rp. A man more deserving than I might re- | even less.” A phi in keeping with ilosophic remark by uo he speaker's gloomy t that moment. A lence, broken at last by Tom. most three months since we met, Miss Helen. Do you remember my coming up the | walk and Gnding you huiling strawberries with ene of Rachel's check apronson? How sweet these strawberries were “Almost three months,” echoed Helen,“and— { 1 sm govng home next week.” i Tom started and then scowled, but said no- thing. and preturbed countenan ong ft ad | am that we are to be in the same | y inter,” she went on presentiy. “We | cab meet often, and Ciara who is a liter! | ton, will Hionize you.” { «We shail never meet,” he replied witha most | us curtness. H 2” she asked in aslightly burt tone. | Do you need to ask why!” he rejoined. “What sort of a companion for Miss Deno’s bonld 1 be—a beggarly bbler who keeps himseif lodged and fed, and has | ent enovgh to enable him to hope for fame even when he is grizzied and fitty! No, he continued, more quickly, ‘i have had my day, here in thir old farmhouse, without a rival to dread—with no soul to come between me and the sweetness of ey companionship. bad my full meed of happiness, and halfway joy in the future. I was not lay the part of acespairing lover. aunt your footsteps Gance attendance at partie operas for tue | Pleasure of bringing yeu an ice or picking up your fan. IT despise man who can humbie | Limeeif m such away. Yes, and I was going to add, that I despise the woman who can take | Pleasure inseeing him doit!” He toseed the cigar away, and strove np and | down the poreh, which ercaked siaruingi; neath the heavy tread “A pretty fellow I am to get into ut nothing,” he said at last, ps Helen, who still leaned “Forgive me, will you not have so again.” “I bave nothing to forgive,” she replied, with asmile. “I like to see you behays badiy—i amuses me avd I need to beamused.” « acta to | drt | uch & rage Desile ever Low | “Is it not a pity that a man isso hamperet by | circumstances ss to be vuable to assume a be- roic attitude when ! questioned Tom, | eeemingly quite tr i once wore. +1 do not | care to be taller nor less clumsy; [ do: wish to amend and revise my nose, ike to perform seme wouderfu would forever ex: ‘teven | iwould | feat which eyes, aud earn ie. 1 can think of under the whee!s of a to shore from were rannir < om aome dae- | h Dutmcerivas dayzers and re- | htful it would de to hear you nes# to yeur brave pre- eperade armed volvers. How de! sob out your thank server, as Miss: Alicia Coarey doe: | to Percy Fitzgerald ia my last drams! At present 1 amuse you—am well Bich a8 indispensible to your comfort as a | lapdog; compel you to be gratefal. and—I think | you could bard'y avoid loving me. { “ should ab\or you!” returned Helen. «1 always dislike people to whom 1 ata under obli- gations. When I am forced to be grateful to | anybody, I feel as though the anybody hada | string tied to my little finger and could jerk it ingly at intervals to remind me of my | “On the whole, then,” said Tom, looking down at her small Sgare, “you would preter to | rescue me, and listen to the sopbing assurances of my gratitude; I improvise some horrible danger forthwith—plunge headforemost into it and allow you to take me out, if you will be any more likely to care for me in Consequence. Let me see—we are going up the vailey to-mor- row— “Not we,” interrupted Helen. “I must re- main at home to entertain a visitor.” .Do you expect the coming of that domestic afilction, Miss Fletcher? ¥ not run morning?” said Helen, hesitat- een Hi 5 “Why did you nottell me a day sooner? asked Tom, in a bard, ned tat “<{ did not know it till this “The m ipg at ber witb a keen glance. Yes, I suppose so; it is my dut “This is good-by, then,” said Mi! you will not en away. Suttle Tacer | himself lying at the bottom of the | other respon: | euch sgony as y journeyed toward tts enc | turned to the city, aud so | swered she, as the |e | which was by no means lover-like. | must come with me, Kaiph,” taking his hand. | falling when Helen reached the entrance of the | excitement | morning, ard b | Seen | minutes afterward, as she heard bis room door cloce with emphasis. “I wonder if Ralph ever Dangs doors or gets intosmall rages! He never Kors, at any rate, and how the porch did neak when Tom waiked scrose it!” i think L can get down there,” soliloquized Tom Ford, the next , peering over the any all. ‘Atleast it is worth my while to try—it will save s mile of walking if I succeed.” Sxinging himself over, he crept cautiously @ownward. Half the descent had been safely | made, wien his foot stipped and he fel!, carry- | ing with bim the rock to which he was clinging. ‘When be 1eovere! consciousncs he foand pinioned to the ground by a mass of rock and ea:th which had fallen npon him, “U! I have not the use of both ht, having finished ths con- nation. * Well, I mnst ses h withone. Phew! how T qmast have bruised it badiy com what I can accomp it pains m: ing dow! As be spoke he attempted to lift the free arm, but it dropped powerless by hiss'd>. “‘Breken as sure as fate!” with a grimace of mingle pain and amusement. “Was ever a fellow in & rorrier predicament?” “It won't do.” he said, after a score of fruit- lees efforts to release himself. “I am bere, and here [ must stay till some one comes to my as- sistance.” And thereupon be shouted at the top of bis Inngs for help. The valley gave back the echces of his voice, but there Was no Still, egnin he eatled—each time more weakly than before, for bis strength was fast leaving him; but no ‘lucky chancs sent a person by The pat within resch of that despa Of the broken arm was inten. position added te bis misery b thirst, while the he bad never dreamed of he lay as the we ours dragzed by, and the day Would help ever come? he wondered, strain- ing h's cars to eatch the slightest sound. ‘he place was a lonely and deserted one—sel- dom visited, except by some wandoring artist tr arch of the picturesque, and there was nc one *mirshim or grow anxious at his abse! Helen would take for granted that he had ro- wr i be left to perish slowly of thirst and starvation. Ard while he was thus dying she would be laughing away the joyons moments with Mr. Hastings by her side. His tancy pictured the pair together, and he ground his teeth in impo- tent fury and despair. Then, as day declined, and darkness, stexl- ing through the valley, ‘wrapped itse!f adoat him, balf-delusive fancies came to make him forgetful of pain. Helen was beside bim—he could hear ber soft tones, feel the clasp of her band; she did not love Mr. Hastings, but him- self, and she had sought him ont to tell him so, As the vision vanished he lost consciousness for the first time in his lite. “The view does not strike me as a particniarly fine one, my dear,” said Mr. Hastings, balanc- ing himseiron the railing of the bridge, and surveying the scenery with a glance of calm dis appro tis I wanted to come.” at the railroad track—a pleasant object mtemplation, as any lover of beauty will then, that we go home,” mildly r. Hastings, offering her his arm. “Wait a moment—the train ix coming,” an- shriek of the locomotive was beard. The train came—t.acked almost to ate stoppage—Helen’s eyes watched it th white very eaverly—but no Tom took advantage of the delay to spring upon the platform. Had he changed bis mind and returned to the farm- house? ‘It was not likely: in his present state of Tecipice, | t even pretty,” Helen replied; “but— | She wag looking very in- | Danbury st the Hew Havem | The Eclipse of the Moon Scem from etiam nmateg:| Lire Be epeet ae ates Mr. Batlcy writes to his from g fs “Stull anotlicr feature are she Bah women, They | _Beihg determined bot to lose the-cracd slight may be seen at nearly all hoursof the day, bot | of the total eclipse of the moon last night on more espectally tn the morning. acccant of the snow storm which wailed, we —— dress in bine linsey-woolsey, coasisting of & ekirt which reaches just below the knees, and an upper gar Bent something like the waterproof worn b: oor ladics, which is worn over the shoulders ani bips in pleasant weather, and made to ot j the head daring astorm. They wear no other bead-covering. They wear low shoes with wooden soles. At their back they carry a bas- ket which is two feet sqaare and about three howl sitting in the top. A strap fastened to the basket and pang around the iorehead of the carrier keeps the goods In shape. Thus equip: the dame waltzes around the city ard selle dou, | They are straight, well-built women, but not | particularly eomely in feature. Down by the isthetrtown. [¢ river in the suburbs of the cit is called New Haven , and ts almost exclusively oecupied by them and the smell of fish. There sre aleo two or three taverns there, where splendid meal of tish can be obtaine’. The houses are ‘wo or three hundred years old, about two stories high, with sharp roofs and enormous stove stoops. On the several back courts the space over the pavement is devoted to lines jangle bladders, corks, under- clothes, and other articles. ‘The people are Scand.naviars, or were Sean. dinavians several years ago, #1 ei warried much since. The m: being gone for several days, aud ch hardship, and no tuco f danger, ig as load as a foz-Lorn. courageous set of people, and he British navy. + but deal parti of their own, which a wi lent providence restricts exclusively to them- selves, ‘The women remain at home, ope: baiting the hooks with tue contents, to the household duties, avd sellin ‘They sre the banker<, from musi draw what money they nee Iy passing to and from New Haven, I went by 4 number of handsome premises, the residences of the better class, [noticed a vacant appear- ance to the places, which, together with the ebilly weather, (it was in Angust,) gave them a most despending look. My frisnd explained that the occupants were away spending the summer. I knew they had goné out of own to get warm, but discreetly forbore sayin; Being over in the old town one day, I noticed a butlding bearing the date of 1792. It ooked to absurd and impudent, thrasting its beardiess face under the nose of its venerable compan- ions, that I went in to the owner and told him he ovght to be ashamed of himself, sticking such & young, inexperienced building among the hoary relice of the dim pest. He was very much affected. He said he would have it taken down st once. In avother stroll, this time along Princezs street, I was astounded beyond xprenston dy the sign ofadyer, which contained the well- known sddition, “(By special appointment of Her Majesty the Queen.” I have read this an- nuouncemert on hat stores witbout a ink, and even perused it over the doors of tobacconists, gent’s furnishing goods stores, and the like, without barely a perceptible quiver; but this was too much—altogether too much. Queen Victoria, the patron of a dyer! Luagine the au- tumnel conversion at Windsor: Albert Edward, will you be so good as to step inte Mr. Cameron’s when you are in Edin- burg, and see if my carpet-ragsare done?” Or, “Alexandra, you had better wear your brown poplin, this week, and have Mr. Cameron clean ur blue silk intime for the next drawing and smeill: are @ hardy, ten feeling he would not court meeting with Mr. Hastings. Helen felt—she knew not why— vague consciousness of anxiety. “Kalph,” turning suddenty toward her lover, “I want to go up into the valley—it will not be dark for more than two hours yet; will you go: Wait till to-morrow,” he answered, mindtal of Mis tight beots, and in no mood ‘for rock- climbing. “You are pale, Helen—yes, and a y ering, too. This air is fever-and- .” wrapping her shawl more closely about ber as he spoke. “Come, let us get home as S00n as porsible.”” “ft will not! I mean I cannot!” Helen re- plied, excitedly. “You mnst with me, Kalph; 1am nfraid something has happened to r. Ford. “Who is Mr. Ford?” asked he, with a look | “He is @ gentleman who has been boarding at Mrs. Kidder’s, this summer,” replied Helen the color rushing over her face in epite of her efforts to appear indifferent. “He was to re- turn to the city this afternoon, taking the train here, aud be has failed to do so, and—” « innot aiman change his nd if he sees fit’ Mr. Hastings interrupted, balt-jestingly, haif- angrily. ‘Don’t be so foolish, my darling,” he went on; “itis not very complimentary to me, your fretting abont this tellow the first ev ening ot our meeting. We will go back now, and if Le is not at the house somebody shall be seni in search of him, I promise you.”” “It may be too late then,” said Helen. «Yon “+I will Go nothing of the kind!” auawered i ed if you go it will be in disc’ Gieres to my exprese commends.” ings looked really impo-ing “When was ever I known [300 one else" retorted Helen, with tashing e “T would go now if” ing to sey sometliin tragic, but failing—“if 1 were certain that I uid lose my way and be compelled to stay I night in the cold.” And shaking off bis ing grasp, she was gone in s moment. “I suppose that every woman must be either &timpleton or a vixen,” philosophically ep: served Mr. Hastings, as he wended his solitary | “bat such an exhibition of winess ou Helen's part was vailey. She and Tom had explored it together frequently; but now, in the shadowy twilight, it looked ‘so wild and forbidding, that sho shrank back involuntarily. Wowd it not be worse than folly to risk her life among its rocks snd chasms, because of mere nervous fancy. As she stocd irresolute—feeling her courage | inet ebbing, s faint ery seemed to fall wpon her ear. She listed eagerly. Did some one call Helen,” or was itonly her imaginacion? “It was like Tom’s voice,” she said to herself, with & shiver, ‘only go faint and unearthly.” Her timidity had all vanished now, and she went resolutely om, failing over prostrate trees, climbing up the rugged sides of projecting | rocks, urging her way through tangied masses of vines spd underbrush, beediess of her cut and bleeding hands and feet, her fast failing surength, and intent only upon reaching the spot whence that cry had come. “Shall ever find him?" she thought, de- spairingly, as her foot caught in a tree-root and she fell once more. Putting out her hand to sid herseif in rising, she touched something which was neither stone nor wood. She zraspod it eageriy—it was an arm in a rough coat sleeve. @ masculine arm evidently, and the discove: sent-a thrill of horror to her heart. An instant more, and the injured man moved a little and murmared “Helen,” in a feeble, a!- most inaudible tone. Helen did not shriek, nor faint, nor call him “a ”’ a8 a heroine would have doue. She ouly said quietiy, “Iam here, Tom; tell me, are you burt bad “Is it you, Helen, really you?” he red nding him strength. “My atm it broken, and there 18 ® mas* of earth and rock | I have been lying here ever since given up all hope of being rescued. Did you come to look tur me—I have thought of you continually.” “Yes,” returned Helen, hastily, thinking that | further questions might prove embarrassing,” | and now [am going back for help. I will pot | be long: you shall be safe at home within two hours, I assure you. Keep up a good heart till | i come back she know that I failed to take the | & “How a: ueried Tow, mentally, as the sound o: her tooteteps died away. Bruised and aching | as he was, he would not just then have changed | places with Mr. Hastings. “Don’t make excuses for him, Tom,” said | Helen, ina vexed tore, and walking reatlessly te and tro as Tom himself uad done on the evening before Mr. Hastings’ expected arriva “Why not?” asked Tom, watching har from the lounge on which he lay. ‘I admit that he bebavec badly; but then he had reason to be ved. Answer his letter Helen, and say wa forgive him.” He stopped, feeling nen and self-sacrifice could yo no “I will never see him avain!”’ she answered, her siender, dark eyebrows coming a littl Ria ghey T had im—thank fi out before it was too late. emer ¥ . trying to un, la which bis Siaabied arm rested scanlore = is, C pity myself a bundredfold “Why’” asked Helen, with seeker sitter useful utormation. Sige % ‘ause you do not care for me, . But—1 think ¢0 care for you, Tea aes said, coming to his side to adjust the refractory handkerchief. py not want to; but you know that that forthe itis so whom you have “1 . well satisfied with the explanation. “And, after alls Helens ioom."” Or, ‘Beatrice, teli the Duke of Con- naught to leave out his’ gray trousers before he goes awey, that I may cend chem around to the dyer’s this afternoon with those hair-ribbons of yours which are to be cleaned.’ And the queen of the most powerful nati the face of the earth. Itis awful.” on How They Played {1 on Dougherty. (From the Detroit Free Press. One day last week four or five Dstroiters went into Macomb county to shoot squirrels and kick their shins aga'nat logs and fence rails. They had just eaten a cold Inuch in the woods one noon, when one of the party, a youn: aamed Dougherty, stretched out on his bac! pulled bis hat over bis eyes, and gave his mind ap to the work of assisting his body to catch a ittle rest. ‘The remainder of the party having an understanding before hand, quietly with- drew, one by one. One of them ‘passed around toa bush, near to Dougherty’s eet and took a tin rattie-box from his pocket. Another stood close to the young man’s legs, and in a sap- pressed yoice, when the signal was given, whispered: “For Heavon’s sake! Dougherty, don’t move so much aga finger! A big rattlesoake is right under your leg!” “My God ! what sball 1 do?? “Keep perfectly quiet ! It is your only hope! If sou even raise @ finger be will dart his tangs into you !”* ‘The man with the rattle-box gave it a shake and reached out and laid a club across Dough- erty’s legs, while the other man moved off about twenty lect and exclaimed “Heavens! what can we do? may kill Dougherty!” The club was rolled off on the groun! and the a whispered “For mercy sake kill it!” ‘The club was rolied over his legs again, the xehaken, and the man whispered back “Be quiet or itis instant death! £ think the #nake wants to goto sicep, aud if you will keep stil! you will be all right? The box Was skaken, the club moved arannd, finally the “snake” seemed to Dougherty tesettie down on his breast. He dared not whisper for fear or rousing it, but one of the men called out: If we shoot we y “There! i's asleep! We'llfmove away aud walt for it to gitae of!” rhe whole crewd moved over behind a bank and laughed and roiled and tore up the dirt until they were exhausted, while poor Dougher- ty lay there like a log, not even daring to draw 4n ordinary breath. The sweat ran down his Tace, and started out from his body until bis shirt was pitino | wet. The fellows took their guns and tramped away, leaving him thus, and were gone an hour anda half. When they re- turned Dougherty was sitting up, having discov- ered the joke about five minutes previously. He didn’t Lave a word tosay, but there was a whole unabridged dictionary in hiseye. They Spoke, to bim, but for an answer he rose up, shouldered bis gun, and made « bee-line for the highway, and one of the party has met him since. A Brave Mornge Saves nee CuiLp From Beino DevouneD BY a CouGaw.—On the banks of the Clear fork of the Brazos river dobn Selman and his family were sitting in their Little cabin, enjoying the comforts of a brilliant fire, when their dog get up a fierce barking. Mr. Hewitt, who lives with Mr. Se! man, walked out to see what was the matter, and discovered a large cougar, Mr. H. stepped back to get a gun, leaving the door open, in- tending to return in a momegt. But their morn- ing visitor did not choose to wait for bis return, and followed immediately into the house. The Bret introduction the intruder gave himself was to leap upon & little child, taking hold of its neck with its monster teeth, inflicting some very severe wounce. Mrs. Selman, the mother of the child, grabbed it and released it. The animal then made an effort to recapture the child from the mother, and Mr. Hewitt, who ig gifted with uncommon size and unusual strength, knocked the monster down and kicked it underthe bed. Mr. Selman had got | bold of his gun by thts time, and _as the coazar came from under the bed’ he ehot it, the ball entering the lett side of its neck, ranging back, and coming out through the abdomen. But that only infuriated him mora than ever. He then leaped up on the bed, tearing the bed and bedaing. The door had got closed during the fracas, and the wild animal having become dis satisfied with his little prison, like a lion in a cage, leaped from eide to side of the room, up- setting the chairs, table and other furniture, at the same time uttering the most terrific sereams imaginable. At tt Mr. Selman got another gun, and shot it through behind the shoulder. It then jamped at the fire, grabbing its mouth full of live coals, and stood there un- til Mrs. Selman opened the door, and Mr. Hewitt took it by the tail and dragged it oct into the yard, where it died. It measured eleven feet nine inches in length.— Kansas City Times. THY CAUSE OF RiTUALISM has approached its climax in England as well as in this country. Certain of the Kitualists have a thorough detes- tation of the word “Protestant.” meetings of the church con; Brighton, a delegate spol our Protestant church.” Until that time every- thing had on emoothly at the congress. These words, however, were the signal for the battle. The high-church party present rose to aman a — by a never Protestan: 18 OPPO! stoutly maintained the Protestant character of the English church. The of Ritual: dicate a break in the ‘would Continuity from the days of the A; les. The ebildren Tee ry it ane Tecent ‘Dlisted in the figh! celebration at a Ritualist church at Brighton, We children —s bymn commencing: i'm not a Tittle Protestant. ‘The low church at the same place, did not gira back theecho, There the children were taught to respond: j I'm not a little Ritualist, A PoLits Wirs_. which occurred not bridegroom, stable fo wna, ated she bad received 4 > No Romanist am [. uliar position. ya Catholics, Catholics will not acknowledge relationship. claim also to be mem- bers of the church of Engiand—but not Prote- stants. How to reconcile these we must leave to those who believe in them. A Naxgow Eso, Fao A TSRRIBLE DeatH.—Avna Kail, while passing th Brant’s paper mill, at Morris Plains, N.J,, on + Was canght in a set of and drawn up into the . It was too late to machinery, but . arms and main Taree, saning all ber efothing tx machinery. feet deop, with another Dacket in the shape ot a | mace the ascent of Mount Davi: to Pd above the clouds. Accompavied by a doren friends, we left the city about elj o’ciock im the through the fast-fal denre cloud upper slopes of the mountain, at 10 reached in, eye could reach, on all sides, stretched a level of clouds. All the surroundin, shut out—all of the lower world was hidden; 1 but the extreme point of the peak on which we stood, 8 little island come fifty feet in cireamfer- ence, measuring from the fla; moon shone in full eplendor, over the heavens the etars twinkled iy. of clouds in which we had so lon, seemed tuat we bad left the world. island seemed all that remained of the earth. Hundreds of m‘les, on all sides, as it appeared to stretched a smooth and leve! sea of pearl. In the distance this was motionless, but nearer slowly and majestically fom west to east, while, at the same time, & it all scewed mov.n peenarswaying up avd down was seen a passed slong. On and aleng the er Cloud-waves, or rather cloud-swells, wore seen to rnp and faintly flicker sach tint: as we some- times see in mother-of 1. All thia was very beantiful, but with it was a sense of jaolation from the world, a feeling of loneliness that was most depressing. But a: the moon began to en- ter the penumbra there were so many an: such sudden and wonderful changes tn sl! ab that our loneliness and littleness were for The sea about ua, which defore had shown on: the tints of the pearl, now took on the ha amber, but still foated on and swayed up anc down as had the rea of pearl. As the odscara tion progressed, the more distant portions of the cloud-sea changed tn hee from amber to brow: and this to black, gradually closing in upon a+ from all sides. In our inimediate vicinity all had changed from amber toa deep barnt sienna tinge. So deep and decided was this tint that one time it seemed to pervade the atmosphere; onr clothing partook of it, and the tall flag-statt around which we stood looked like a great rod ofrnsty iron. IDnring this stage @ heavy breeze sprung up, and the swells in the soa about us Tose higher waves than before. At times these Tore several fect xbove our heads, and (the eclipse being then nearly total) we were some- times for minutes lett in midnight darkne: and but for the lanterns we bad carried in co! ing up the mountain, and which were stand- ing on the ground near by, we could not have scen onr hands when held before our faces. But these waves of darkness teldom lasted for more than two or three minates, and we had, from first to last, a moet magnificent viow of the eclipse. It is | probable that a total eclipse of the moon has never before been obse. ved under precisely such ci: cumstances as was this last night by our little party. As the eclipse passed off, about the same phenomena were observed above amt about us asin its coming on. We left the top of the peak, however, while fally half the face of the moon was still obscared. Taking a last lingering look at all about ns, observing that our Sea Was again assuming the hue of amber and that the horizon was widening in all directions, asthe light spread abroad and drove back the brown and the black, we plunged down into the thick clond-: ud, gaided by the ligbtof our lanterns, msde the best of eur way down « buge gerge in the face of the utain and back to the city. Strange as it m: pear, we found it much Warmer In the midst of the clouds and snow than above on the peak of the moun- tain. Not one of our party will evar forget thts total eclipse of the moon, as seen from old Mount Davidson's topmost peak, 9,00) feet ve the level of the sea! Ked Fish iu Idaho. {From the Silver City (Idano) World.) About 1 miles to the northward of [daho City is “Payette Lake,” as beautiful a sheet of water as can be found. This lake is the largest of a cluster of four or five situated in the imm->- diate vicinity, and isabout 42 miles in length by three miles (average) iu width. It is both fod and drained by the north fork of the Payetta Tiver, which passes directly through it. Ita waters are auid to be hundreds of feet deep, ant y-polished mirror. ‘The country around the lake is mountainou and the scenery varied, but picturesque an beautiful. In it is found @ speciesof fish known here by the name of “red fish,” an appellation derived trom their color, which is a beantifal vermillion, with the exception of the head and fins, which are of a dark earthy-green color. ‘Their habite are similar to those of the salmon, and like the salmon they spawn and then dic. ‘The male and female are easily distinguishable, the colors of the male being much brighter than those of the femaie. They live in the deen water ot the lake, and we bave po account of one ever having been seen in the luke only when coming up out of the water at the mouth of the river when going up the river to spawn, which they do from about the last of July until nearly the jast or October. When ascending the river they travel in chools numbering froma one to two or three hundred, and fishermen land them in large quantities by means of drag-nets ant seines. When fresh or when properly cured they are esteemed a greater delicacy tor table naa than even the mountain trout; but great skill nd care, and, above all, great cleanliness is re- quired for their preservation in a manner for the table. Dried, they are preferred to either herring or codfish. but the best way to preserva them isin brine. Put up in this wav—care being observed to have them perfectly fresh and per- fectiy cleen—they are probably notexcelled by any fish inthe world. The writer hasseen then Jate in the fall moving down the river as if re- turning to the lake, but such multitades of them die along the stream that it is believed to be impoesible that they get back alive. In size the “red fish” vary but little, being generally about 20inches long, and weighing trom three and a halt to five pounds. Being unknown to both British and American fishermen, they are com- ing to be looked upon as confined solely to Idaho and Lake Payette, and the object of this article is to call attention to the fact of their existence, and to draw eut an expression of opinion from persons capable of =p to their place among the finny tribes.” Besides, they are a great delicacy, and it may et be found prac- cable to stock the lakes of California, Oregon, Nevada, and perhaps of all the Northern an. Northwestern States and Territories with them; the only apparent requisites necessary to their propagation being depth of mre cold water, Cod a gravelly im for their % How a Quakeress Stop; ‘The subject of borrowing aud lending caiue up in the course of a conversation witha sut- seriber living near Ithaca, when he suddenly recollected ® funny reminiscence of that char- | acter which had happened in his own neighbor- hood. He raid he Lad a neighbor whose fami'y were creat borrowers, but not so distinguished im order ing, apd, prossing upward Zenow ant throagh the mas which we entered oa the 1¢ topmost peak and stood above the Cloud and storm. Itwas one of the grandest sights ever witnessed by mortals. As far as the mountaias were ft in the center. The air was frosty, but we were rovided with blankets, overcoats and mu‘tiers. ‘or some Moments, after risingout of the sea been envei- oped, onr little party stood at the foot of the flagstaff and gazed in speechless awe. It almost | Our little ped Borrowing. | | out of the ebureb to an 83 pssmasters—they’ were always borrowing, | buteeldom, if ever, returning the exact amouut borrowed. ' An old’ Quaker lady, another neigi- bor, who had endured these invasions for a lon, time patiently, nit upon a very philosophica mode of eventually putting a stop to the nul- sance. Keeping ler own counsel, the next time her good man went to town, he had a separate and express order to purchase a pound of the best tea and also a new canister to put it in; as he krew ehe already bad plenty of tea and also scsuister, he was puzzled to determine what the old lady wanted of more tea and a new can- ‘ster, but his questioning and reasonmgs elicited nothing more than a repetition ot the order. “Jim, did [ not tell thee to get me @ pound of the best tea and a new canister? Now go along and do as | vid thee.” And go along be did, and when he came hows at night the tea and new canister were lus coui- pantons. The old lady took them from him with an amused expression on her usitai placid features, and, depositing the tea in the canister, set iton the shelf for a special use. It had not long to wait, for the borrowing neighbor had frequent use fer the aromatic herb. The good lady loaned generonsly, emptying back in the canister any remittance of borrowed teas which the neighbor's conscience inclined her to make. ‘Time went on, andafter something leas than the one hundredth time of borrowing, the neighbor again appeared for ‘ just another draw! tes,” when the oft visited tea canister was brought ont and found to be empty, ard the good old lady and obliging neighbor was jast one pound ot tea F ggebed than when she ht the canister wh: now Bg, Mcp oma to tell the story. Then she madea life; she said— iss seest empty canister. I filled it for thee with apound of my best tea and lent it all to thee in driblets and put into it all return, and none but thy- now thou seest it empty; hast borrowed I will'say to therefore thee, thou a out and I can lend ekly Ithacan. A.J. Ei rows). writes, “‘formaily fo Introduce w scient Into this as > that this strictly for- mal dissyilabie iid take the place of the ican trisyllable ‘scientist.’ a | knees, as old age has come upon them. Just | Proposed to sever | but instead of drawing articles tor reaae crgeulet re ceganen | man is not musical and has good | at the organist should be something mere musical machine. There are | every church. The pastor preach- | e one and the organist or choir director (usually the same) from the other. Tne most ferver t expression of the cl-rical palpit may be weakened or absolutely destroyed by the Olour performance of the wasical p: doubt if this fact has ever fully majority of our readers, and ly any one but has felt that ihe impression, for {nsteice. ef an excellent sermon has been ob. | Lt-rate¢ from the mind before he has reached | the cuter door of the chureh. He canuot teil why, but the organist could, if be would recall | that the most solemn utterances of the pastor bave been tollowed by some frivolous and ut- | terly smapprop-isie organ performance. | This is not @ mere surmise on onr part. We | have repeatedly seen this result in the past twenty a pee The average organist bas | evidently bad no more sympathy with the charch | than with paying the national debt. His basi- | ness was simply to play @ voluntary, «apport the chofr in singing and dance the | tune which s fancy or which he may have selected and pre- cd for performance days before. It is this + pprop istencss with whiph we think organists specially chargeable. Wha’ think of s clergyman who indulged ir @ funcrsl? And yet we heard orgacicts, asermon which excited to the utmost sol reflection, amble gsyiy into selection from ‘savtha,” “Travinta’’ and (it is a pty to write “Hands al | s too often suggested P rformere. The infinene: fin the highest degr w a y which characterizes t ormauce will inevitab'y creep into th Ithas, in fact, developed aechool of #0-cailed compositions whose weak sentimen- tility and faulty covstraction would have exasperated Hardel almost hurried Haydn to a premature gra composers too often diverge as far from these noble models. ‘The sole effort | to be to piesse the ear and tickle th | There ts no attempt at a worshipfal style. They are usually as defective in sanctity and rever- ence as in grammatical construction. The simplest rules of harmony are disregarded in order to produce striking effects. T loft is couverted to an arena for the 6: yocal gymnastics. There are ground and lofty tumblings by the solo soprano acrobatic feats of | strength by the bass, ambitious and exciting eflorts to attain the attenuated, wiry high (, and more or Ices side-ehow business by the alto, organist, and ail concerned. Bat this is a top that cannot be disposed of in & brief paragraph. It needs a careful diagnosis and asound reme'ly. We doubt if it can he cured by homeopathic doses—that is, by inefficient church music coun- mittees—but requires the most heroic treatment by the congregations themselves. Choirs often sing such stuff, either because they think ths people iike tt, or are too indolent to enter a pro- | Test against it. Congregations are long-suffer- ing, but we earnestly hope and confidently be- | for this ‘eacred” | ganists, us | by these careless | organtston the choir | The rgan pere © singing. lieve that the judgment day dorh, and also for Offendachian or, fast approaching.— Aldine for £ The Fall of the Leaf. rom the London Garden.) The phenomenon of the ‘fall ot the le: common a6 it is, is very difficult to explatm eat- isfactorily. ‘The following are the facts, so far as we understand them, which are exceedingly interesting and instructive. It seems that na- ture begins the provision for separation almost as soon 2s the leaf is born in spring. When first put ferth into the atmosphere the stalk of the leaf, supposing one to be present. is continaons with thestem. As the leaf aud its stem grow, | however, an interruption between their tis: (fibrous and cellular) occurs at the base the lesf-etalk, by means of which a more or less complete articnistion or jotnt is gradually ultimately formed. This articulation is duced by the continustion of the growth ot stem after the leaf has attained full gro which it generally does ina few weeks. The | growth of the leaf being completed, the | base of its petide, or Sout stalk. is no longer | nid ro- ! ie 3 | test attempts | to the contra.y. Ofcourse we always commonc- Ee fer Mileh Cows. ben & young man, in our ¢ar- farming for eurself, when we OOAL AND Woon. Kept three or four cows, did’ the greater ya: COAL! coal: WOOD) WOUD! of the miiking,and marketed oar eurplas bu:- | Jo. S08 BROTHERS, a poe bang bg Len go feed aes - |) wROLRBA al ~ m apples, ti soon hegen to increase their | ; ABD EBT. DEALBEBS. Sield of mulik, and soon ‘after there "was io, | CARCOBS OF COAL AND Woow aRhI¥ Ove of the beet ‘seineted mock fered rolne < | wensingsen me awe <iees te We invite the pubiic, of thow ent! down te onr A 2.840 Ibs guaracten creased amount of butter to carry to market. Ever eince then whenever we have bad ovws, And cheap apples, we have not hesitated to gire | them a tegniar allowanc undeterred by the np, for experience oft repeated had taught — Foot 19th street sonthwoet SF ati cet Dorth went 2Kbstren Pry €1 with a emiil allowance, gradu Omtces..¢ TTT ed until we reacbed the’ jaentity that we ~ thought best for thent, and the results were al s satisfactory. A writer in the Country Go experience as follows very other year Ihave a large crop of a) Dut as my orchard bardly bas two trees same variety, the {ruit is nseiess for market, insects are 4 numerous that I have very’ fe fair and perfect xpples, but an abundance of cider apples, which will bring, after being pick obes thrown out, from tweive to twenty centea bushe!. For several years.agans the remonstrances of my men, and others w! per the oh) Faying of “apples will dry oetSt eoir (OAL, WOOD AND BUILDING MATERIALS. man gives his Bn TEKS. GOR re es and handling ATES, Lar in rem 23 Loutiavs avenor corthwest, a cow,” Ihave had them fed out to my milch tat bet Bard .satbenet, | cows, beginning with the early apples and con ame. 1NAND. | timuing as long asthey lasted. Several times I : _—- _. a have dumpcd them from the Wagon as gathered r < from ander the trees, on a small piece of grave GOD DEPOT, 1 not stand, and c ground where the wa ret. the appr ich of cold weather covered them * aed weil selected: | With a thick coating of scawecd. so that t wenn AnD COs the ambecriber sclcte a share | irieede and id not freeze, and have fed th I * ws in milk. elndedt tr ag good sweet hay, land ashigh colored a: ih Kiitor & Mick ptember batter, at the tiew kept up, It not increased, at least b 20 as from feeding meal to the sam: alue. For young cows they seem e to meal.” Perhaps I should © ‘0 itnated that ow 53°. (Gare sh ther groan stuff, 1 m the bowels ef the ‘anir a da 5 an cr preferal cor winter milk room i perature seldom falls b ¢ after the first few t BEKRLAND CO4L In a former numbe: r. Levi Bartte:t d his careful experiment of feeding ay DEPOT ASD YARD at T. W Riley's Wharves ples to milch cows, wi the saine resuit. | foot of Mth and 12.4 streets southwest Twas giad to be confirmed in my impression PRANCH OF FICE, C etre end 94 by £0 careful accurate an observer. strocts noveirwent, cculb-hy OOD AT 57. AND Pie Woop 6 per curd, delivered in muy part of the FAMILY SUPPLIES. ~ = ~ yorr orders with BEAD ADAMS, corner SEASONALLE GOODS. rcerte, of send than to Athee's GOODWIN Y. sree EW LAYER AISI COOKING BAISINS, 1as, NEW FICS, DATES, CORBANTS and CITRON ALMONDS, PEOANS, WALNUT, &c. ALL NEW MIXED, at 20 conts per pouul Prime SWEET CIDE through the season. Denter tu best varieties of ANTHRACITE AND OUMBEELAND CoaL, Also, WOOD tu the stick, or sawed and Prices mocerate tor omsh. e 0 enon) BUCKW Offices aud Varue: of K street and Bhode Berkctls Pehas EW SORE BOT geet. Inlans‘avenne, betwen hh aod Wnts Deruive ¥ LEA MOLAS! ore —— Gervise JEW eae wien Tos = PEARS nor? aes © PEA RM — Cee EL? HONZ9 YOUNGS & CO, ‘We Invite the att-nttor of consumers to onr stock ey : of COAL, embracing ali the choice malities, to ARE SELLING which we are waking additions daily, which we oer irs hie at jowert maract rave SUGARS, OAK ena PINE WUOD, sawed and split or ip BK the stick. KIS DLINGS, tx buniies or by SON & REOTHER, ‘* Pennayivanio A pot, Be b wtrert ity at the price, or money r have ou band, and iv large supply rent grades, including @ very high LeaS Japan and choice Moyune Gan + St moderate prices. JQ PCULAK Line To MoUnT ¥ SO AMBULANCE RIDING BY THIS LINE, k Hbilingstead, of the ered into @ @ontrac 7 MOUNT VeEu- COFFEE. . ASSOUIATIO (o rou a atommves ou Government Java, raw. . 39 conte (Sanday excepted) to Mount Vernon, ts the 32 conte | only person allowed to land passengers by stenae teat st Mount Vernou Wharf. toh Parsevvers will AVOID the troable and vexation of RIDING 3 Mi BS (ne by 40 canta B3e Las IN AMBULANO ther linen) by taking the reguiar steam Tin steamer tours 7th street wharf daily Jo a! ° ‘ud $0 conte Sanaey a ex t 10 © , Tetarning ab 4 Able to adapt itself to the snereasing diameter FLOUR. ew ph yi; ‘sacledene’ edunianieg to of the stem, a @ friction between that | Welch's Best Famfly, per 20 ds base and tho stem necessarily ensues; | Goiden Hil Family. por “ooo 4 HOLLINGSWosTA, the excision advances from without inward, | A. H. Herr's Best ‘amily, per wie FRANK BOtL 1“. Aecoctation. until it Snally reaches the bundles of woody | Bernt Mills at lowest rates '. oupen fiber, which form the main support of | B Bird Family at lowest rates the leaf. While, however, nature is forming a | wound, she is at the same time maki vi- | sion to heal it, for the cuticle or epidermis of the stem is seen to grow over the sartsce of the scar, so that when the leaf is detached the tree doe: not suffer from the effects of an open wound. The provision for separation being thus com- pleted, the leaf is parted from the stem by the growth of the bud at the base, the force of the wind or even by its own weight. Therefore, as s00n 25 the glorious colors of the autumn leaves | begin to fade, this provision for separation is completed, and the winds sing their death-dirge as they carry them away from their sammer’s home on the branches oi the trees, and scatter them in countless numbers upon the ground. | The fall of the leat is, therefore, the result o* a regular vital process, which commences with | the first formation of the leaf, avd is only com. | pleted when it is no longer usefal to the tree. 'here is no denying, however, that the frosts of | autumn, by suddenly contracting the tlaeues ut | the base of the let-stvis, accelerate the fall of the leaves. All must bave noticed, on 4 frosty morning in autumn, that the slight- est breath of air moving among the de- cayed and dying leaves will bring _" in complete showers from the trees to the ground. The leaves of the beech. hornbe and oak die in autumn, but frequently re attached to these trees throughout the wii months, provided that the trees are not so ated as to be exposed to violent winds. 5 leaves, when examined, will be found to be continuous with the stem, and therefore with- out that articulation or joint which so naturally assists in the separation of the leaf trom the tree. T dead leaves fall off when the new leaves are put forth in epring; they are, in fact, pushed off by the expansion of the stem when the growth ‘of season commences. The leaves of evergreen trees and shrabs, and of coniferous trees, as the pine and fir dot fall in autumn, but in spring, when the growth of the season Is proceeding; and, as this annual jeaf-tail is only partial, consistin, cr one-third at a time, there is ware cient number of leaves teft on such trees to keep them clothed with perpetual verdure. Hence it is that their foliage consists of leaves which have been attached to the stem from one to three or five successive years. Too Old to Separate. (From the Des Moines (lowa) ter.) Seventy-six yeare ago there was born in New York @ gentléman pow a resident of Central lowa, not fur distant from the capital city. Forty-five years ago he was married and lived happily—at least so far as is kuown—with his wile until about six weeks siuce. Then they Lad their first quarrel. Children have baen born to them, and grown up under their own rool. Grandchildren have played on their | | | | nter f of one-half a safti- what the cause of that first quarrel was we have not learned, uor do we care to learn. It ix enough for the purpose of the historian that | they quarreled, and so bitterly that both took steps for a legal divorce. The long years of peace were all forgoiten, and in wratn they e lives that had been ove tor nearly half @ century. Now, childish as this appears, it is true, and a Des Moines man, eu old friend of ail parties, was sent for to prepare formal articles fer the sep- aration. He went to the residence of the belligerent antediluvians about ten days since, divorce, ho played the role of peacemaker so woil that the War was abandoned, and now the old folks aso | One pillow again. A case almost as sirange now Awaits commencement tn a lawyer's office | in Des Moines. The wife is 58 and tlehusband 61. They quarreled about 4 pan of milk. The wife started to carry it down cellar, but before | reaching the foot of the stairs returned, tor tome purpose, placing the pan on oue of the steps. The husband bad occasion to descend the stairs before = was removed, tipped it over, spilled the milk, and came back swe: ingly wrathful. That'milk-pan outweighed the memory of thirty-three years of peaceful wed- lock, and for the past six weeks, safely locked in an attorney’s safe, has been yi: cation for ai application nent of the difiea Fall Setting of Stra “Can you send me plants “I must gota bed out early in August, to secure | ext Sach . The young piants ‘ne otherjare are ~ {yo the toot are'‘milky” and soft, . poe fi pee mt when packed to be ship- fe woul not Feoomuneed ordering pleats ‘go gro’ where ing ntl September oF Oc we plan’ that Grows End too. it takes butte cr tives . Our experience and order them earlier you will ofthem. For small gar- ifthe and i | | Meal, from the Water Gate Mills, in 16-1b is sure to advance very svon GRAHAM FLOUR AND OAT M F.E Smith & Co.'s Graham Flour and hed Wheat, direst from their will in Brooklyn every week. Fresh Oat Meal fn balk; Genuine Scotch Ost Meal in pound packages; Genuine Irish Oat . tin caus, pyresis WASHINGTON, D. C4 WILL BE OPENED AND KEPT ABA FIBST-OLASS HOUSE, NOVEMBE! J r S. PIRHOK. Propricter, of Beckingtam House, Portaucath, ®, = EAL. Oru BUTTER. One ton of Genuine New York Goshen Butter just arrived, which we offer wholesale and retail Also, CANNED GOODS ¥ part of the sea Son at extremely low rates. Poreimporied CUBA HONEY, by the galion—» delicious article, Elphonzo Youngs & Co., GROCERS, NINTH AND F STREETS, Unvea Masonic Texr ORAS. B. FERSIN, Propristor. Hreen's BOTRE, 79 @ CTEET, Buvween’es so Ors Ove Erre. : fo cettatr sive Lovers of good TEA and OOF FER wil! be pleazec to hear that they can buy th: rated a Bios, 145 an: jen 100 INV Ww cant wing. 3 $1 O Bred leads to toner ane Set arg retalled et'e mani soaset ee eee ee Saskervand Broke Ss Beene Atl gocda marked with the price. 9° tt = eee eens 148 and 149 Center Market, Bast Wise, | GoBEaAR AM Open every aay. eoplely peid deposits Joun ‘re, Pree Land-1y}0. 8. PRENviss, Coan E.™ IMONEY & CO. 5 pe tt aS Bu! ‘Kens, CLARET per dosen, BEINR WINE, 93; | | Transnct Banking, Wzouanges aud Oct- GINGEB BRANDY, BASPRERRY SYRUP. ee ane, SELL Zorn. @OVERNMENT oe a rm jotcers’ pay eoccunte canted tn advance. FINE CHLN. — * w * Se MERCHANT TAILORS. . a nea Rs CROCKERY, ep MERCHANT T41LOR, GLASSWARB, oak Srazar, Orrosits A TERY ores 4 CUTLERY, PLATED WAKg, AND HOUSE FURNISHING GOODS, With our increased facilities we are prepared t» farnieh the above goods to our customers aslow a they can be purchased in northern cities, WEBB & BEVERIDGE, 1009 PENNLYLVANIA AVENUE, cetls-300 BEIBERCES. Buco: H. FF. 2 0o.,) yi ge F 2. vag Meepinn PER TEAEE BAIEOR. 11 ated Pens eaves: Weanfegton press GRAND GIFT CONCER’ itor Tre MNentpelier Female Humane Association Between 9th and 10th streets, = AT ALEXANDRIA, Va, THE GREAT METROPOLITAN DOLLAR STORE. November 23, 1874. j LIST OF GIFTS. } 1 Grand Cash Gite....... 1 Grand Oseh Git IMMENSE ASEOBTMENT! NEW FALL AND WINTER GOODS PRICES LOWEB THAN EVER! GOUDS BETTER THAN EVE NOW 18 THE TIME TO BUY! imimber of Tickets, 100,000. PRICE OF TICKETS. TORO aan cneescnesseoneeesenpennennee wherries. i early in August?” | rol “KWOX,” Pifth-evenve Ho- tuvited toour five and six