,

I

0 7f -

" : .tit HV s iV

.KT J I J A 1

Ira w mrr iiiPiiiiiPiI?i ,

J 1ft

rjt

V0

o

O

o

0 O

c

DEVOTED TO NEWS, LITERATURE, AND THE BEST INTERESTS OF OREGON.

YOlZllL OREGON CITY, OREGON, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1878.: "

NO. 19."T m

THE ENTERPRISE. !

A LOCAL NEWSPAPERFOB THE

Farmer, Uutlnru Han and Family Circle

ISSUED EVERY THURSDAY.

JEUJSTl S. ZDZEZMZZEZCsTT,rnoPBiCTOB and publishes.

Official Paper for Clackamas County.OUic: In Enterprise Ituililinj;,

Olio door South of Masonic Building, Main Street.

Term of Kuborrlptlon :Single Copy, one year, in advance $1 50SlnKlu Copy, six months, in advance 1 50

Term of Ail tert Iking :Transient advertisements, including all legal

notices, per square of twelve lines, oneweeJt $ 2 5fl

For each subsequent insertion 1 00Out Column, one year 120 00

'Half Column, on year 60 00Quarter Column, one year 40 00Business Card, one square, one year 12 00

SOCIETY NOTICESOREGON LODGE, No. 3, I. O. O. F.11 every Thursday Evening, at,5j ..- -.

i x, o clock, in udd liaU..J?.rlMain Street. Members of the Ordurji;.are invited to attend.By order of N. O.

REBECCA DEGREE LODGE, No. 3,niecis on the Hocoud aud rv-iourt- h

Tuesday Evenings of each month. I I.- vat t iu iu uuii f ellows HallMembers of the Degree are invited to

FALLS ENCAMPMENT. N. aI. O. O. r., meets at Odd Fellows' Hall onj c

the Unit aud Third Tuesday of each month. XxJPatriarchs in good standing aro invited toXXattend.

.

MULTNOMAH LODGE, No. 1,noms regular communi-cations on the First aud Third Saturdays

in each month, at 7 iV1,,.l- .. i. ,. .;,.' " '.''IU LIU .11111..i nepiemoer in tne JOth of March - and V5 o'clock from the ath of M.r. h t. ti. S. . ..20th Lof September uremreii iu j;ood tandinK' areluviiu.r xo attend By order of v. M.

IiUSI N E S S C A l D S

WARREN N. DAVIS. M. D.,lliysi'ian and Surgeon.

Oraduate of the University of Pennsylvania.OrrrcK at Cliff House.

CHARLES KNIGHT,CAN BY, OREGON,

0,IJiyicia.i and Druggist.Prescriptions carefully filled at short notice

ja7-t- f

DR. JOHN WELCH,QDENTIST.

vrriLt 1 OUKUON CITY OREGON.Highest cash price paid for County Orders.

E.L. EASTHAN,A T T O It X K Y-AT- -It A W,

OREGON CITY, OREGON.

Special attuution given to business in the U SLand OtHce. .Oftlce in Mycr's Brick.

JOHNSON & McCOWN,ATTORNEYS and COUNSELORS AT LAW

OREGON CI I.Y. OREGON.Will practice in all the Courts of the State.Special attention given to cases in the United

O States Land Ottlco at Oregon City. 5apr"72-t- f

I. V. WiliD, OEOBOK A. HABDIXO.

WARD 8c HARDING,Jriesls, ai Apothecaries

KEEP CONSTANTLYof

ON HAND A GENEIUL

Drugs and Chemical.IVrfunmrr. Monpa.

4. omiM and Krualtei., r MupiHtrtn.Nhvaldrr Kram t'nnr andJollet trtirlm,ALSO

Krr?f " Lamp Ihimn..1 uUv Painu. !!..taruUlir, aud IlirSiull-- .

PURE WINES AND LIQUORS FOR

MEDICINAL PURPOSES.

PATENT MEDICINES, ETC., ETC.

8lu Physicians Prescriptions carefully com--luudod. and all orders correctlv answered.tt. Open at all hours of the night.

All accounts must be paid monthly.uovl.ldTitr WARD i HARDING.

W. H. HICHFIELD,KHtultlUhod

One door North of Tope's Hall,M AIN fT.. Hl.(i(X CITY, OUKUOK.An assortment of Watches, Jewelry. andf?Stn Thomas' Waiht Clocks, all of Vhich vyVare warranted to be as represented. iST.tkfKepairing done on short notice; audthaukiulfor past patronaK.

KNlt laitl tor ( ouuly Ortlertt.

JOHN M. BACON,DKALEB IN

BOOKS, STATIONERY. -- a"IyPICTURE FRAMES, MOULDINGS AND MISCEL-

LANEOUS GOODS.

i nmi: hadk to oiidek,Obkoos Citt, Obkuos.

"At the Tost Omce, Main Street, west side.uovl, '75-t- f

A. C. WALLINC'SPioneer Book ISimlor

Pittock'a Building, cor. of Stark and Front Sts.,PUKTL.1XD, ORKtiOX.BOOKS RULED AND BOUND TO ANYBLVXK pattern. Music Bocks, Magazine.

Nwpaprs. etc., bound in every variety of styleknown to the trade. Order from the countrypromptly attended to. novl, "75-t- f

OREGON CITY BREWERY,

Having purchased the aboTe Brewery,;wishes to Inform the publio that they arelnow prepared to manufacture a No. lquality

OP LAGER BEER.As good aa can be obtained anvwhere in the State.Order solicited and promptly filled.

BLANKS OF EVERY DESCRIPTION FORat thigofhee. Justices of the Pccace canKtt anytning in their line.

FLY, 1IAIIY NAIL.BY TESSTBOS.

Fly, happy sails, and bear the press,fly. happy with the mission of the cross.Knit land to land, and blowing heavenward.With silks, and fruits, and spices clear of toil.

Enrich the harvest of the Golden Year.

But we grow old. Ah ! when shall all men's goodBe each man's rule, and universal peaceLie like a shaft of light across the land.And like a lane u! beams athwart the sea,

Throngh all the circle of the Golden Year?

MT Kill I AT SKA.I stood beside the sea girt shore.

And I watched the white sails fade away ;I wondered if the hopes they bore

Would to my heart return soiue day.

The menths flew on with winged feet.And oft I watched, but watched in vain ;

The wild winds to my heart repeat."Thy ships will ne'er return again."

'Tis ever thus with human hopes.The flowers we prize are first to die;

And as we fall 'neath fortune's strokes" The ships will ne'er come back," we cry.

'CICELV-ALKA- LI STATIO.WBY HKET H ARTE.

Cictly says you're a poet maybe; I ain't much onryme ;

I reckoned you'd give me a hundred, and beat moevery time.Poetry ! That's the way some chaps put up an

idee.But I takes mine "straight without sugar," audthat's what's the matter with me.

Poetry? Just look round you alkali, rock aud sage;Sage-bus- rock and alkali ain't it a pretty page?'Sun in the east at momln", sun iu the west at night.And the shadow of this yer station the ou'y thingmoves in sight.

Poetry! Well, now Polly! Polly, run to yourmain ;

Ruu right away, my pooty! By bv! Ain't she alamb ?

Poetry! That reminds mo o' suthing right in thatsuit.Jest shet that door thar, will yer? for Cicely's

t ars is cute.

Yc noticed Polly the baby? A month before shewas born, fCicely my old woman was moody-lik- e aud for-

lorn ;

Out of her head and crazy, and talked of flowersand treesFamily man yourself, sir? Well, you knows whata woman be's.

Nervous she was, and roslless said that she"couldn't stay."Stay and tk"e liiarent woman seventeen milesaway.But I fixed it up with the doctor, and ho said howould be ou hand.And I kinder stuck by ttio shanty and fenced inthat bit o' laud.

One night the teuth of October I awoko with achill and a fright.For the door it was standing open, and Cicely

waru't in sight;But a note was pined ou the blanket, which saidthat she "couldn't stay,"ut had gone to visit her neighbor seventeenmiles away.

When and how she stampeded I didn't wait for tosee.For out in the road next mi nit, I started as wild asshe;Running first this way and that way. like a houndthat is eff the scent.For there warn't no track in the darkness to tellme tho way she went.

I've had sAme mighty mean moment? afore I kemto this spotLot on the plains in '50, drowned almost, andshot ;But out on this alkali desert, hunting a crazy wifeWas ra'ly as unsatisfactory as any thing in my life!

"Cicely! Cicely! Cicety!" I called and I held myBreathe;And "Cicely! " came from the canyon ann all wasstill as death.And "Cicely! Cicely! Cicely!" came from the rocksbelow.And jest but a whisper of "Cicely!" down fromtho peaks of snow.

1 ain't what you call religious; but I jest lookedup to the sky.And this yer;s to what I'm coming, and may be vouthink I lie ;But up away to the east'ard, yaller and big and farI saw of a suddent rising the riug'lerst kind of star!

Big and yaller aud dancing, it seemed to beckon tome;Yaller and big and dancing, such as you never see

1 "nd ""-'inS- . I never saw such a'star

And I thought of them Miarps in the Bible and Iwent for it then aud thar.

Over the brush and bowlders I stumbled and push-ed ahead ;Keeping the htar afore me. I went wherever it led.It might have been for an hour, when sudden audpert and nigh.Out of the yearth afore me thar riz up a baby'scry.

Listen! thar's the same music; but her lun"s tlicvare strouger nowThau the day I packed her aud hor mother I'mderned if I jest know how.But the doctor came next minit ; jnd tho joke ofthe whole thing is.That Cis never knew what happened from thatvery night to this !

But Cicely gays you're a poet; and maybe youmight some day.Jest slim? her a ryme 'bout a baby that was born Ina curious way.And see what she says; and old fellow, when you

speak of the star don't tellAs how 'twas the doctor's lautren for maybe

"twon't sound so well.

MIKE.Mike lived iu Fljnn's Court. There

are plenty of just such courts in everylarge city, running away from widerstreets, as if afraid, narrow by naturefirst, and rendered more so by heaps ofunexplored deposit afterward. Mikelived in a house with ninety --seven othersouls, all packed uncomfortably closetogether, of many nationalities andscolding tongues. II was nine yearsold, and not a very good boy for hisage. In summer he wore a pair oftrousers that were always too longthough by pulling them up to his arm-pits ho did his best for them and ajacket that made up for their excess byn corresponding derieiencv. lie woreno hat most of the time when he sat inthe court hurling his whole vocabularyof slang and impertinence at boys up intho windows opposite, but there weredays when he submitted to the conven-tionality of a straw ruin, whoso brimhung low on his slim young shoulders,lie was not a handsome boy at all, withthe sole exception of his thick, curlinghair, which had never been short with-in tho memory of any one durin"- - thesix years that ho had been well knownin his neighborhood. His nose turnedup, and was sprinkled over with freckleson a foundation of tan; his mouthseemed loosely formed, as if not yetdecided on its shape for life; and hiseves, light blue and wide apart, winked,glanced, blinked, leered and stared inever and surprising rapidity. He usedto stand and dance a clog by himselftho brim of his hat flopping "with eachleap, his bare, dirty feet moving quick-ly to the whistling of the undecidedmouth, hands in pocket, eyes winking,

trousers fluttering about his ankles, allalone with the rubbish heaps and thecourt mua, tne sun, the dingy house,one pet cat, and his own ille, ed

thonghts.Mike had a father who worked with a

pickaxe on city jobs during tho day,and went to meetings of Penian Broth-erhoods, Wolf Tono Circles, and thelike, at night. He was interested in thofreedom of Ireland, theoretically speak-ing, and his family saw little of him.Perhaps, illiterate man though he ws,he differed not greatly from those whogo to clubs of a better sort, with pro-jects more refined, who would neverrecognize anything in themselves akinto Mr. OToolo following, blindly, lly

that Irish chimera, that will-o'-the-wi- sp

of her uneducated sons.Mike's mother took in washing whenshe could get it, and went out by daywhen she could not. Coarse of skin,luxuriant and unkempt of hair, untidyof dress, she worked hard when she didwork, but it hardly sufficed for liermany children and her occasional al-lowance of liquor, her only recreation.Do not call her "as bad as a thief and acriminal;" wo have finer tastes thanhers, thanks to education, and can noteasily put ourselves in her place.

Mike's older brothers and sistersidled, or worked by the day in differ-ent employments, generally cominghome at night, and Mike, like them athis age, ran wild. He went to school,but his teacher sent him home everyday to have his clothes mended and hishair brushed ; but as he never could findthe comb, he did not go back that day.Finally he went, back no more; and attwelves in the multiplication table,while still vague about the rnap of SouthAmerica, and wandering in the mazesof articles and pronouns, Mike's educa-tion stopped.

lie was not particularly popular, buthis social instincts were so strong thathe would rather be with a cat or dog ora very small bo- - than be alone. Hesometimes playe.l for one morning withsome little boy with a broad collar andand bright buttons and clean hands;but Mike noticed that he never couldget the same one twice; ho had ordersnot to cross the street next time.

Once a little girl with curls and longribbons on her hat asked him to comeand play under her steps. Mike wasnot diffident, and went readily.

"What makes you have your hair soshort in front?" asked Mike, after sit-ting down comfortably.

"Oh, because," she replied, pleasantl-y-

"Comb it yourself?" was the nextquestion.

"No," replied the little girl."Is your comb always round ?""Mamma combs my hair," she an-

swered; "don't yours?""Don't your mamma brush yours

when people dine with you ?""Wot's dine?""Why, cat, of course.""No, you don't," exclaimed Mike;

'that don't go down. Don't try that onme."

Just hore a strong hand lifted Mikeby the jacket collar, and hurled himinto the street like a kitten. "Get outof here, you dirty little wretch, you!"from the servant's disgusted lungs,came after him. Then Miko turned andscreamed out his whole list of impreca-tions, slang and abuse at tho doorslammed in his undesirable face.

Once he taught a nice boy his entirestock of street slang, with its newestadditions, and he never saw that boyagain but once, and then tho nice littleboy ran as if Mike were tho small-pox- .

Constant receptions of this kind madehim lose somo of his native independ-ence with nice children. He grew todread servants, to expect snubs, to ac-cept coolness as his due, to be leftalone, to be passed with no "hollo" ofrecognition to his own signal.

So he used to hang on the outskirts ofa small society of little ladies and gen-tlemen who drew aside their dress asthey passed him with tho cool stare ofexperience. Ho chased cats in thecourt sometimes; ho hung on passingbuggies till whipped off, climbed uponice teams, took an interest in hacksstanding for weddings or funerals,threw rotten fruit at the guardians ofthe peace and dodged, snow-balle- d

every body, and smoked the ends ofcigars. lie never had any skates inwinter nor ball in summer. He fishedoff the wharf sometimes, but seldomcaught any thing. fie grew accom-plished in whistling tunes of the "Mul-ligan Guards" type.

Somo ono put him into a missionSunday school once, but he had to sitstill and think, and he was not used toit, so he did not go again. Ho was al-ways ragged, and often hungry, and hemostly ate his bread and molasses inthe street, when it was not too cold; forthe sake of company. He did not havemuch of what we call chara.ter; ho wasnot original; he did not have indefatig-able persoverence, or any thing of thekind; but then he was only niue yearsold.

He used to look into the windows ofthe periodical stores, and read the titlesof the dime novels with delight; he rev-eled in the wood-print- s of "One Eye,the Scourge," and stood long beforethe fascinating pictures descriptive of"Snarleyow, the Dog Fiend," And solooking and dreaming in his own way,he decided that a trapper's life was thelife for him. He had small conceptionsof distance, and thought some huntinggrounds might be found near the termi-nus of the horso railway; so he madepreparations for the work. One five-ce- nt

loaf, a jack-knif- e with two blades,one piece of clothes-lin- e five feet long,for capturing deer, buffalo or any thingof that sort, and six cents, comprisedhis outfit. He knew trappers had a tentusually, and a slouched hat and blackmustache; but not being able to manageeither, reluctantly left them out. Onechilly, gray day, late in November, hewrapped up his possessions, confidedhis secret to the latest nice boy heknew, who recoiled with horror, and

Jthen, his father and mother being out,

and his elder brothers and sisters scattered or quarreling, Mike sat out on hitravels. He took a car, and, by dex-trous jumping off and on, managed tosave his fare, and when the horses wereunloosed at the end of tjio route,' heran. There were too many houses aboutthere, but he saw trees in the distance,and went toward them. The street waslong, but at last, by climbing up highon the rocks above the road, he foundthe trees. A rough country it was,Mike thought, and it was growing cold,but he walked on. It was lonesometoo, and . Mike wished that he hadbrought his next younger brother, butit was too late now. It began to snow,and soon snowed hard. Mike lookedround him, a little frightened. He fell,too, once or twice, for the rocks weresteep and slippery. "I wonder wherethe deer are ?" thought he. He hadheard that a whistle would call them,so he tried "Captain Jinks" aDd the"Mulligan Guards," but both failed oftheir object, and it was growing rapidlydark. Just then a canary, bewilderedand evidently hurt, hopped close tohim, then flew a little. Miko gavechase. Loaf under his arm, rope inhand, he ran farther and farther. Thebird, though evidently weak, went fast-er than he. It was dark. He lost sightof it, ran forward and fell.

They did not find him for severaldays. The snow had fallen very thickfor that time of the year, and it wasbitterly cold. On the fourth day, aparty of gentlemen, walking out afterdinner from the great house on whosegrounds Mike had gone hunting, withcigars and light talk, came suddenlyupon something half buried in thesnow, amid bushes and stones, withhigh bare shrubs above it somethinglying so still that, though they hushedtheir tones, the loudest laugh wouldnot wake it. The gentlemon lifted thechildish figure in the ragged jacket andlong trousers extended at the foot' oftho steep rock, and the dead canarynear him. Such an unfinished littlelife to end so soon! 'Such an ignorantchild to have gone so far on the longjourney!

nis parents mourned and buried himafter their fashion; and that was all, ex-cept that one of the gentlemen, who wasan artist, being struck with somethingpicturesque in the circumstances,painted the picture as he saw it, andpeople praised it, as an expression of aphase of human life, very much. Fi-nally a lady bought it. and it is seen bythose who know mostly of lives likethis through art, and they feel itspathos; often their voices tremble asthey turn away.

The picture shows them a high roughrock and leafless shrubs, and at theirbase, half hidden under a large stonewhich has fallen upon him, a little boywith long heavy hair lies stretched, thorope and bread close beside him, andnear by a dead canary The artist callshis picture "Death."

There may be shown in Mike" somegrand meaning in his little worthlesslife here whan he has grown to be a man,and looks back upon it from the greatfar country.

Mistaken Kindness. We very oftenmeet with youflg men who. at the age oftwenty-one- , are no more fitted to fightthe battle of life than most boys are atsixteen. This is often, to an extent atleast, the fault of friends who, throughmistaken kindness, have taken uponthemselves the thinking and reasoningthat should have been done by thosothey so urgently desire to assist. Inother cases it arises from alack of forceof character in the young men that in-duces them to rely on their friends foradvice and counsel rather than exertthemselves to the extent necessary toform an opinion on which to found ajudgment. One of the first lessons aman should be taught is that of self-reliane- e.

Let him seek the advice ofolder and wiser people if he will; goodcounsel harms no one; but should care-fully consider all they say, and then de-cide for himself; sometimes, perhapsoften, he will decide wrongly butevery wrong decision is, or should be,a valuable lesson. Friends may prop-erly be used as counsellors and guides,but not as leaning posts or staffs. Learnanother's stroke if you think it betterthan j'ours, then padille your own ca-noe. Floats and life preservers arooften very serviceable but they are notalways at hand iu time of danger, andhe is wise who learns to swim withouttheir assistance. Until a boy can learnto rely upon his own judgment, he willnever bo a man, in reality, no matterwhat his age may be.

Toys vou Children. Wo cordiallyapprove of the custom of giving toys tochildren. True, for some reasons itseems as though money were wastedwhen expended on a wagon, the wheelsof which are not round; or on a Noah'sArk with animals which refuse to standfirmly on uneven legs; and the intend-ing purchaser almost turns from thepoor, cheap toys with the intention ofbuying for tho little friends whoso hap-piness he has at heart something useful,beautiful and permanent; but remem-bering the time when a new knife, or atop, or a paper of candy, or a regimentof tin soldiers was of more value in hiseyes than much fine gold, he purchaseswhat seems to him trash and proves toothers genuino treasures. If such achange has taken place between thetastes, pleasures and opinions of boy-

hood and those of manhood, is thereany reason to think that we shall nevergrow weary of the possessions andpleasures of middle life which nowseem so satisfying to us? Will rare andcurious books, statues, vases and paint-ings ever appear as worthless in oureyes aa toys? Shall we not, in our se-

rene old age, look back upon tht thingswhich pleased us in middle life, and re-

gard them as mere toys? Let us, then,consider the children, and make themhappy while they still retain the capaci-ty for being amused by simple things.

"

COURTESY OF BANCROFT LIBRARY,

The Parisian Salon.Every movement, artistic, literary,

and social, of the last century emanatedfrom the numerous and brilliant salonsof Paris. Thenco issued the " Ency-clopedic " of Diderot and d'Alembert,the satires of Voltaire, the " de l'Es-pr- it

" of Helvetius, the " Systeme de laNature" of Holbach, and all that floodof atheistical and subversive literaturewhich deluged France and Europe withinfidelity, and culminated in the greatrevolution. French society may bo saidto have been born in the salon. Yet thosalon was not a French creation; thathonor belongs to an Italian lady, Cath-arine. Marquise de ltambouillet, who,being brought to France by her husband, found the manners of the courtof Henri le Grand so coarse to her re-fined Roman taste that she resolved tocreate a circle of her own, to whichonly thoso distinguished for refinementof manners and intellectual proclivitiesshould be admitted. It was just at thisperiod that France, having recoveredfrom the devastating" wars of theLeague, and now enjoying a hithertounknown prosperity, thanks to the wisegovernment of tho king and his minis-ter Sully, began to awaken to intellect-ual life; consequently the marquisefound numbers eager and willing to en-ter into her project. The Parisians ofthoso days were as rude and coaso in allmatters of taste as were their neighbors,the English and Germans; their furni-ture was clumsy, their decorations wereheavy, and the prevailing colors werered and tan. Imagine then, tho con-trast presented by apartments hungwith delicate blue velvet trimmed withgold, adorned with beautiful paintingsby the great Italian masters, a thousandelegancies and a profusion of flowers,that make the apartments a brilliantgarden. In the course of time thomarquise's assemblies became the su-preme tribunal of taste and authorityin all matters relating to language andliterature. Here every poet of renownread his verses, every dramatist hisplays, and received judgment beforegiving them to the vnlgar world, nerethe French language was fixed, and ev-ery word put upon its trial, to bo ban-ished forever as vulgar or adjudged fitfor polite lips. Here was suggested toRichelieu the idea which afterward tookthe practical form of the AeademieFrancaise. Here were developed tho?epolished and elegant manners whichuntil the Revolution rendered theFrench noble the gentleman par excel-lence of Europe, and the French lan-guage the most correct, piquant, andperfect medium of conversation of allmodern tongues. Here modern societywas created; and it was here that wo-man first began to exercise a marked in-fluence upon the national life, which,while it softened and refined the man-ners, proved so disastrous to France inthe persons of Maintenons and Du Bar-ry- s.

Here, also, arose that school ofexaggerated gallantry and sentimentwhich afforded Moliere and his contem-poraries such splendid objects of satire.Under the marquise and her yet morecelebrated daughter Julie, the Hotel dellambouillet rose to its highest fameabout 1G30, and kept its position untilthe troubles of the Fronde rebellionclosed it in 1G15. During all theseyears it cannot but be sup2Ksed butthat imitations of theso assemblies hadsprnng up. Marion de Lorme and Ni-non de l'Enclos, the Lais and Aspasia ofthe period, opened their houses to allthat was witty, gay, and licentious.Then there were the coteries of tho fe-male Frondeurs, the brilliant Madamedo Chevreuso, the beautiful Madame doLongueville. Nor must we forget thepoet Scarron , over whose gatherings thefuture Madame de Maintenon presided.But the true successor of Catharine deIlambouillet was Madame de Scudery.the once famous novelist, the author of"Le Grand Cyrus," " Clelie," "Ibra-him," romances in ten volumes! It wasin her salons that Moliere found his" Precieuses llidicules" and his" Femmes Savantes." Here love andgallantry were reduced to a code ofrules, any infringement of which waspunished by expulsion from the society.

Plain Talk to a Girl. Your every-day toilet is a part of your character.A girl who looks like a " fury " or asloven in the morning, is not to betrusted however finely she may look inthe evening. No matter how humbleyour room may be, there are eightthings it should contain, viz: a mirror,washstand, soap, towel, comb, hair, nailand tooth brushes. These are just asessential as your breakfast, before whichyou should m3te good and free use ofthem. Parents who fall to providetheir children with such appliances notonly make a great mistake, but commita sin of omission. Look tidy in themorning, and after the dinner work isover improve your toilet. Make it arule of your daily lifo to " dress up"iu the afternoon. Your dress may ormay not be anything better than calico,but with a ribbon or ilower, or some bitof ornament, yon can have an air of self-respe- ct

and satisfaction that invariablycomes with being well dressed.

Ornamental. Owners of countryhouses can ornament their grounds atvery little expense, if they choose tosacrifice some time and exercise sometaste. Small out-house- a, grape-vin- e ar-bors and frequented walks may not onlybe made beautiful ornaments to the gar-den, but shady resting places, wherethose who so desire, in the heat of thesummer day, or ovendnring warm, sun-shiny winter weather, may find a pleas-ant retreat. There are scores of hardyvines that, with' a trifle of care may bemade to cover such arbors, renderingthem most attractive in themselves, andobjects which, together, serve to formthe out-doo- r attractions of home. It isa matter of suiprise when we think ofthese things, that the grounds about somany country dwellings are, as fromchoice, utterly neglected.

January came, thaw and conquered.Rochester Democrat.

: i.

Horrors of the Siberian Mines.PRISONERS WHO NEVEIt SEE THE LIGHT OF

DAY A PRISON PEN WHERE NO CONVICT RETURNS ALIVE.

The exiles who live in the mines areconvicts of the worst type and politicaloffenders of the best. The murdererfor his villainy, the intelligent Polishrebel for his patriotism, are deemedequally worthy of the punishment ofslow death. Thev never see the lightof day, but work and sleep all the yearround in the depths of the earth, extract-ing silver or quicksilver under the eyesof task-maste- rs who have orders not tospare them. Iron gates, guarded bysentries, close to the lodes, or streets,at the bottom of the shafts, and theminers are railed off from one anotherjn gangs of twenty. They sleep withinrecesses hewn out of the rock very

kennels into which they must creepon all fours. Prince Joseph Lumbom-irsk- i,

who was authorized to visit onoof the mines of the Oural at a time whenit was not suspected he would ever pub-lish an account of his exploration inFrench, has given an appalling accountof what he saw. Convicts raked withthe joint-pain- s which quicksilver pro-duces; men whose hair and eyebrowshad dropped off, and who were gaunt asskeletons, were kept to hard labor un-der the lash. They have only two holi-days a year, Christmas and Easter; andall other days, Sundays included, theymust toil until exhausted nature robsthem of the use of their limbs, whenthey are hauled out to die in the infirm-ary.. Five years in the quicksilver pits areenough to turn a man of thirty into anapparent sexagenarian, but some havebeen known to struggle on for tenyears. No man who has served in themines is ever allowed to return home;the most he can obtain in the way ofgrace is leave to come up and work inthe road gangs, and it is the promise ofthis favor as a reward for industrywhich operates even more than the lashto maintain discipline.

Women are employed in the mines assifters, and get no better treatment thanthe men. Polish ladies by the dozenhave been sent down to rot and die,while St. Petersburg journals were de-claring that they were living as free col-onists; and, more recently, ladies con-nected with Nihilist conspiracies havebeen consigned to the mines in pursu-ance of a sentence of hard labor. Itmust always be understood that a sen-tence of Siberian hard labor meansdeath. The Russian Government wellknows that to live for years in the atro-cious tortues of the mines is human-ly impossible, and, consequently, theuse of a euphemism to replace the termcapital punishment is merely of a piecewith the hypocrisy of all official state-ments in Russia. Once a week a pope,himself an exile, goes down into themines to bear the consolations of relig-ion, under the form of a sermon, en-joining patience. By the same. occasionhe drives a lively trade in vodki.

The miners who live habitually ontschi and black bread, are allowed a ko-peck for a good day's work, and thissum invariably goes for drink. Perhapsthe raw, rancid spirit serves to keep uptheir strength; anyhow, the intoxicationit brings on affords the unfortuuatesthe only drug of comfort they can ex-pect on earth. One shudders to thinkof the state of the belter educated menwho refuse the consolation of occasion-ally drowning their sorrows in liquor.What must be the plight of professors,journalists, land-owner- s, who havebeen condemed to die by inches for thecrime of emitting liberal opinions,which in England bring a man to a greathonor and comfort on every side?

Married Off Hand. A wedding asabrupt, if not as fantastic, as Mr. Wem-mick- 's

took place 'on New Year's night,at Marlboro, on the Hudson. Duringthe afternoon a well known resident ofthe village called on the Rev. Dr. Os-bo- n

and invited him to dinner at sixo'clock. "Bring a marriage certificatewith you," said the host, "we may havea wedding here to night." The doctoris a disci eet man and did as he was told.At his friend's house he met a largecompany, and after dinner was an-nounced tcok his seat at tho well-appointe- d

table. The host undertook tocarve the turkey, but made such bung-ling of his duties that one of the guestswas constrained to remark to him, "Youshould get married; then your wifewould teach you the proper way to dothese things." The host did not denythe seft impeachment, but told whatmanner of woman he should like for awife, ending by saying: "Now, beforewe proceed further, s'pose we take avote as to whom I shall marry." Thecompany entered into the the canvasswith great hilarity, and after the votewas taken it was declared that the hostwas in duty bound to marry his house-keeper, a young and well-educat- ladywho had presided over tho establish-ment for more than one year. Theyoung lady had stepped into the kitch-en to give some final directions to thocook, and whoa she returned she wasinformed of the views of the company.She was completely taken aback, butafter tho ladies had coaxed her to giveher consent, she placed herself in thehands of her friends. "Halloo! let'sget married now," exclaimed the host,with the iniperturable Wemmick's self-possessio- n.

The dinner was suspendedindeed, it had scarcely begun; the

bride took off her whitelapron ; the bride-groom dropped his napkin; the two weremade one; the marriage certificate wassigned; and the company kissed thebride and then sat down to dinner witha first rate appetite. The next day aspinistor in the neighborhood, hearingwhatjbad happened, raised her handstoward heavenand exclaimed, in a spiritof true devoutness, " Lord, how sud-den! there's no tellin' whose turn'llcome next!"

A little boy will never willingly re-linquish any of his cakes except hisspank-ache- s.

What it is we Drink.The following recipes, which were

found in an establishment that wasseized by Sheriff's officers in New YorkCity recently, will be interesting, asshowing that there is a vast differencebetween pure and adulterated liquors:

OLD BjURBON WHISKY.40 gallons pure spirits,"5 gallons good Bourbon whisky,2 ounces spirits of nitre,2 ounces fusil oil (from corn) cut in

alchol.Stand four days and use it.

DARK COGNAC BRANDY.59J, gallons pure spirit (first proof),1 pint brandy coloring,1 pound essence of cognac, mixed with1 quart alcohol, 95 per cent.

CHERRY BRANDT.4,S4 gallons pure spirit (first proof),2 pounds best sugar,1 drachm oil of bitter almond.

Color it very dark.HOLLAND GIN.

GJ4 gallons pure spirit (first proof),Yt ounce oil of juniper, dissolved in1 pint alcohol, 95 per cent.,2 pounds sugar.

PORT WINE.27 gallons new cider,C gallons cherry brandy.5 gallons pure spirit,2 gallons sugar spirit,4 pounds alcanet root,xt pound tartaric acid,2 ounces alum.

CHAJIPAONB.40 gallons cider,3 pounds loaf sugar,2 ounces crystalized tartaric acid,i quart yeast.

3 gallons water,4 gallons pure spirit, 15 per cent, un-

der proof.Let it stand ten days, fine and bottle

it if sparkling; if not sparkling, againfine it and add more acid, and this pro-cess should be repeated until it is suit-able for bottling. When bottled, putin each bottle a piece of sugar, the sizeof a pea, then cork and wire the bottle,covering it with tinfoil, after the man-ner of champagne.

An Heroic Rescue from the FlaitebA fire which occurred in St. Andrew's

parish, London, a few weeks ago, pre-sented unusual features of peril to hu-man life and of gallantry in rescue.An old stone mansion house whichcould be reached only from the frontwas discovered to be on fire, and theflames were wll under way in the inte-rior before the alarm was given and mencame to the rescue. The excavation ofthe street in front of the house for sew-erage purposes made it impossible toapproach the burning building fromthe front with fire-esca- pe apparatus orwith extinguishers. Through the smoke,the forms of two people could be seenat the upper window and, with thostairway below in flames and no possi-bilit- y

of reaching the window with lad-ders from the street, it became a prob-lem how to rescue them. The adjacentbuildings were accessible, and it wasonly a moment's work after tho arrivalof a rope for two men of the Fire Bri-gade to carry it over the roof of thoburning building and by means of itre&ch the half-suffocate- d persons at thewindows. They lacked strength to savethemselves by clinging to the rope andmaking their way to the adjacent roofs,but they were successfully carried outand saved, by an ingenious expedient,from what otherwise was a certainty ofdeath by fire.

TnAT Electric Current. The manwho doesn't believe that there is anelectric current passing between theminds of human beings should havebeen at the Central depot last eveningwhen a train went out just forty secondsahead of a man who had planned to boin Chicago this morning. He ran downthe depot, yelling and gesticulating,but he could neither stop the train torovertake it. When he stopped ho wasclose beside a boot-blac- k, who had wit-nessed the whole performance, and witha grin clear around to his ears, tho boyobserved:

"No, it. can't, for Beeeher says there'sno such place !"

The stranger looked at him for abouta minute and then handed him a quar-ter and turned away. Now, if there isnot a mental electric current, how didthat boy know wha: that man was think-ing of?

The Largest War Vessel. The newironclad, Italia, which the Italian Gov-ernment are having constructed at Cas-tellama-

will, it is said, be the largestvessel of war in the world. Its greatestlength will be 120 metres; breadth 22metres; draught of water 8.50 metres;displacement 13,000 tons; and weightof the hull alone 5,000 tons. Ita arma-ment will consist of guns, the exactweight of which is not yet known, butit is at all event to exceed 100 tons, andthe iron plates with which the hull isto be protected will be 55 centimetresthick. It is estimated that the con-struction and armament of this gigan-tic vessel will cost at least twenty mil-

lion francs, about 800,000.

Entrrtaining Compant. In winter,it is pleasant for young folk to give andattend social parties, if they aro notmade too expensive for people of mod-erate means. The custom of preparingae extravagant supper, particularlywhen there are no servants to performthe drudgery, is a foolish one. Now ifwo will have parties; if we are to enjoythis life and derive pleasure from so-ciety while we may, let us adopt a sim-pler method of entertainment, and,during the evening our friends spendwith us, pass around fruit and cake inau informal way. That will cost com-paratively little, but will prove that weare hospitably inclined, and is a suffi-cient evidence of welcome.

" Is it a good taste for girls to giggleat funcials 1" is the query in WesternAlabama. A girl who can't cry at afuneral wonld not be a good hand todo up a sore toe.

I

7 '

k

t :

i

o

oI

ro

i

i.

!