Lititz Record

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YOL. III. LITIZ, PA., FRIDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 17, 1879 NO. 6
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SEPTEMBER, .
The goHon-rod is yellow ;
The eora is turning brown ;
The trees in apple orchards
With truit are bending down.
The gentian's bluest fringes
Are curling- in the sun ;
In du ty pods lha milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.
The sedges flaunt their harvest,
In every meadow nook ;
And asters by the brook-side ;
Make asters in the brook.
From dewy lanes at morning
The grapes' sweet odors rise ;
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butter flies.
By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer's best of weather,
And autumn's best of cheer.
But none of all this beauty
Which floods the earth and air,
Is unto me the secret
Which makes September fair.
'Tis a thing which I remember ,
To name it thrills me yet ;
One day of one September
I never can forget,
A Pleasant Love.
"I have got some news for you, Maggie,"
he said one day, about eighteen months
after he had gained his commission.
"Guess what it is."
They were walking along the green lanes
of Perlock, listening to the ceaseless mur-mur
of the sea, as, at intervals, they had
walked and listened ever since they could
remember, at any rate, for she was six
years younger than her former playfellow.
"You are going to be promoted," she
said.
"Promoted, you little goose! No one
ever gets promoted in the British army.
Guess again."
"You are going to marry an heiress."
There was a lump in her throat as she said
it.
"Wrong again. No inestimable young
person with green eyes, a turn-up nose,
susceptible heart and fifty thousand a year,
has turned up yet. But its something
nearly as good. I'm ordered to China !"
"Oh, Alic!" she gasped, ansi burst into
tears. It was very foolish of her, but then
she was only sixteen, and had not yet ac-quired
the praiseworthy art of concealing
her feelings.
"Why, whatever are you cijang for ?" he
asked, and kissed away her tears. He'd
kissed her ever since she was five, and
thought no more of it than if she had been
his sister, or the cat, excepting perhaps
that it was nicer—which it was, no doubt.
"I shall only be away five years, at most
and when I come back I'll bring you a pig-tail,
and an ivory tooth pick and a whole
lot of things and—"
"Yes ? she said, listening attentively.
"But then you'll be a young woman—I
forgot—and 'out' and all that sort of thing,
and won't condescend to speak to a poor
Lieutenant; you will have all the squires
and fox hunters about the place at your
feet."
"Oh no, indeed, I shan't Alic," she said
•eagerly.
"But I tell you, you will. I believe you
are a born little flirt, and I shall come back
and find—"
But she burst into tears again, and put
up her pretty little hand as if to stop bis
teasing, which she could not bear just then.
It seemed so cruel of him to laugh and joke,
when he was going away for five years.
He did not seem to care- a bit, and she
could have broken her heart on the spot,
and would have gladly done so, and thrown
the pieces away so as never to be bothered
with it again. Then, seeing her mournful
blue eyes, he was merciful.
"I believe I shall come back and find you
just as great a little darling as you are now,
and if we've got any money we'll get mar-ried
and live happy ever after, and if we
haven't we'll get married and starve ever
aftei—unless, of course, the heiress turns
up.
"Oh, I hope she won't!" said Maggie,
like a truthful little idiot. "Shall you ever,
write to me, Alic, dear?''
' 'Yes, of course I shall, and I shall ex-pect
you to write back six pages crossed,
and all that sort of thing, you know."
So Alic Granger went to China, and
Maggie waited hopefully enough for a let-ter,
but six mouths passed and none came.
"Perhaps it takes longer for a letter to get
herefrom China," she thought, knowing
as little about the means of transit and the
time it took as if the celes ial city had been
in the moon. But a year passed and no
letter came.
"Perhaps he's ill, or its miscarried," she
said, tearfully, half wondering if it could
be possible that a Chinese heiress had
turned up and that was the real reason of
Alic's silence. "Two years past and never
a word. "It's too bad," she said bitterly,
and wondered ruefully if he had married
a wife with a pig-tail. And the days and
the months went by, and Maggie journeyed
into womanhood, but no word or sign came
from Alic Granger, and at last she gave
him up altogether.
Maggie was twenty years old when her
father died, and the creditors did pounce
down, and she and her mother were sold
out. Mrs. Dunlop was offered a home in
London by a sister who was well off and
bad tempered, and it was thankfully ac-cepted.
Maggie was informed that she
might get her own living, which, being pre-cisely
Maggie's own opinion as well as in-tention,
she advertised for a situation as
governess. Now Maggie had a very modet
idea of her own merits, and therefore only
asked for £25 a year and a comfortable
home, so no less than five answers came to
her announcement that she could teach
English, French, music and the rudiments
of drawing. .
One of these answers came from Wool-wich,
and stated that Mrs. Marshall re-quired
a governess for her three little girls.
Mrs. Marshall was a stiff-necked sort of
woman, and stared at poor little Maggie
(who looked almost as child like and twice'
fts pretty as ever) through double gold
glasses. Colonel Marshall, her husband,
was a nice old man with a grey head and
an iron gray moustache, and there was
a grown--daughter, a Miss Patterson, Mrs.
Marshall's daughter by her first husband,
who was really the mistress of the estab-lishment,
for Maria Patterson had a strong
will, and she was an heiress.- "A very
nasty heiress, too," poor Maggie thought,
and she was right, for Maria was skinny,
and thought herself sarcastic, and always
said nasty things to people who did not
dare to say them back again.
One evening, when Maggie had been
about a year at Woolwich, and she was sit-ting
alone in her school room as usual, for
her pupils had just said good night, and
been delivered to the tender mercies of
their nurse, Miss Patterson walked in very
much dressed, and rather flushed and ex-cited.
"Miss Dunlop," she said, "we shall have
a few friends this evening, and I know one
or two of them like an impromptu dance;
will you be ready to come into the drawing
room and play if we should want you ?"
"I fear I cannot play dance music very
well, I never keep time," said Maggie.
"Yes, I feared so, and I thought I would
come and tell you, so that you might prac-tice
for an hour or two till after dinner,''
and she sailed out of the room, evidently
considering the matter settled; and Maggie
meekly proceeded to practice the "Mabel
Waltz" and the "Flick and Flock Galop."
Then she put on her shabby black evening
gown, and stuck a spray of white flowers
in her golden hair, and waited patiently
for the summons, hoping she would wait in
vam. It very soon came, and with a roll
of music under her arm, a flush on her in-nocent,
frightened face, and a scared, al-most
hunted, expression in her eyes, she
descended and timidly opened the drawing
room door, and there stood still for a mo-ment,
staring in astonishment at the scene
before her. There sat the heiress, with an
eager, pleased expression on her face, and
leaning over her, talking and laughing, and
more handsome than ever, and sunburnt
and soldierly looking, was Alic Granger.
There was no mistaking him. The color
rushed to Maggie's face, as if to say a hur-ried
good bye, and then left it altogether.
She recovered self-possession, however, and
walked with what she flattered herself was
great dignity towards the piano. She felt
rather than saw him raise his head and look
at her, and the next moment he saw by her
side.
"Maggie—my dear Maggie ! Why, fancy
you being here; where did you come from %
I have been trying to find you out for
months." "
"I thought you"—and then she did not
know how to go on, so added, almost pit-eously;
"I am the governess here."
"Are you! Oh, I see, then, that is the
reason I have not seen you before, I sup-pose."
"Do you really know Miss Dunlop?" the
heiress asked, coming up, and speaking in
her coolest manner.
Maggie wished sincerely she could sink
into her shoes and bury herself.
"Why of course I do; we have been
play-fellows ever since we were born—
haven't we, Maggie ?"
And Maggie, feeling she was backed up
answered bravely:
"Yes. '
"Oh, indeed! how iuterestmg!" then
turning to Maggie : "Will you be so «rood
as to begin a waltz, Miss Dunlop ? This
was to be our dance, I think," to Alic, and
she sailed of with him triumphantly.
He came to her directly after the dance
was over.
"I went down to Perlock to try and find
out where you had gone to," he said, "but
nobody knew."
"It didn't matter," she said, huskily, let-ting
her fingers wander vaguely over the
keys to make believe she wasn't very much
interested in what he said.
"Yes, it did—it mattered a great deal.
Why, I've got a box full of curiosities for
you—clubs to fight with, and ajittle heath-en
God or two, and a statue of Buddha and
all sorts of things. I told you I should
bring you them home. Do you live here—
I mean in this house ?"
He said these last words under his breath,
for the heiress came up, and the next min-ute
he was carried off to dance with Mrs.
Somebody at the other end of the room,
but not before Maggie had nodded a reply
to him. Soon after this Miss Patterson
came up to the piano, and saying she wish-ed
to play herself, and that Maggie looked
tire.!, dismissed her without being able to
get even another look at Alic.
The next morning, to Maggie's very great
surprise, Miss Patterson came into the
school room before the children had as-sembled-
"MissDunlop," she said, stiffly, "I should
like to know where you say you met Mr.
Granger."
"At Perlock. His uncle lived next door
to my mother. He is a very old friend,
indeed—"
"Thank you. I merely wished to in-quire,
because, of course you must be
aware that it is not usual for any one in
your position to make herself remarkable
by having long confidence talks with any
gentleman who may visit the house."
"I don't know what you mean, Miss Pat-terson!"
Maggie said, indignantly.
But Miss Patterson had swept out of the
room without deigning to reply.
Then Maggie went into ker own little
room, the one place she had in the world
entirely to herself, and cried till her eyes
were red and her head ached.
The lessons did not progress that morn-ing.
Maggie was thinking of Alic, who
was no doubt strolling about the common
listening to the band and making love to
the heiress. The children were more than
usually stupid, too, and all the world seem-ed
upside down, and all its ways turned
•crooked. Suddenly, at about twelve o'clock
just when Maggie was in the middle of ex-pounding
as best she could the eccentrici-ties
of the French grammer, there was a
knock at the school-room door.
"Come in," she said.
The door opened, and there stood before
her astonished eyes the form of Alic Gran-ger,
and behind him was a man—evidently
his servant—witn a box on his shoulders.
"All right. Tom,- put it down ; that's
right; now be off. There, I've brought the
curiosities round, Maggie; I thought you'd
like to see them."
"Oh! What will Mrs. Marshall and Miss
Patterson say ?" said Maggie in consterna-tion.
"Nothing to you for the next half hour
or so, for I have just seen them safely on
their way to Woolwich, and. thought I
should just get a quiet chat with you. My
dears," he said, turning to Maggie's wide
eyed, open-mouthed pupils, 'I'm quite sure
you'd like to be let off your lessons, so I'll let
you off for an hour ; run along, my little
dears," and he opened the door for them,
and shut it after them.
"Oh, Alic !'' she said m fear and tremb-ling.
"Oh, Maggie!". he answ ered, mimicking.
"What did you mean by going away from
Perlock, and not leaving any address ?"
"I couldn't help it, and you never wrote,"
she answered helplessly.
"No, I never write letters; don't know
how to spell well enough. But I have been
hunting for you all over the place, and
never dreamed, of finding you here. Now
we'll unpack the box; I had it opened be-fore
I came, so it'sonly fastened by a lock.''
"But, Alic, they'll never forgive me."
"Never mind, it doesn't matter, because
if you are good I'll take you away next
week. Besides, they'll forgive me any-thing.
I saved the Colonel's life when he
was in Hong Kong—at least, so he says.
There now, what do you think of these for
fighting with? Get them at Java on pur-pose
for you;" and he held up a pair of
heathenish-looking clubs and brandished
them over her head, and then proceeded to
pull out the rest of the contents of the box
and to decorate the school-room with them.
"There's Mr. Buddha, and there's—why,
what's the matter, Maggie?"
"Nothing, only you will get me into
dreadful trouble—you will, indeed; Miss
Patterson came in this morning and scolded
me for talking to you last night."
"Nevermind, she was only jealous," he
laughed. ' 'Now tell me how soon you can
leave here."
"What for ?" she asked innocently.
"Why, you haven't forgotten that we
agreed to get married when I came back,
have you, you little coquette ?" and he put
his arm around her waist just as of old, and
was not reproved. It was so very comfort-able,
she thought.
"No; but you are engaged, are you not?"
"Yes, of course I am—to you."
'(Oh! but, Alic—"
"Oh, but, Maggie—" and then he stop-ped
and kissed her, and nothing more could
be said, for the door opened, and there
stood the Colonel and there stood Maria
Patterson.
"Miss Dunlop!" screamed Maria, horror
struck.
"Mr. Granger!" said Mrs.
astonishment.
"Hoity-toity!" exclaimed
"what does all this mean ?"
"She must leave the house at once,"said
the heiress.
"Of course, she must," Mrs.
said. "I never heard of such a
my life."
"My dear Mrs. • Marshall," said Alic,
looking as if he were beginning a speech,
"it is all nay fault. You told me, and so
did the Colonel, to consider your house my
house, and I have done so. Miss Dunlop
here was a playfellow of mine once, and
when I went away we were engaged, but
somehow we lost sight of each other when
there were a few thousand miles between
us, and it was the happiest moment of my
life to meet her again last night; and so I
took the liberty of calling on her this morn-ing,
and we were just arranging to get mar-ried
next week when you interrupted us."
"Quite right, quite right, my dear Gran-ger,"
said the old Colonel, heartily, "you
shall be married from here—"
"Oh, please let me go to mamma—do let
me go at once," pleaded Maggie, finding her
little tongue at last.
"I think it would be much more, satis-factory
if Miss Dunlop went back to her
relations," said the heiress sourly.
So they all agreed, and that very after-noon
Maggie packed up her modest belong-ings
and all the curiosities, and went to the
well off and bad tempered aunt.
The bad tempered aunt received her
niece very graciously when she found she
was going to marry well the following
week. It is amazing how fond people are
of rich relations, even though the riches
concern them little personally. As for
poor Mrs. Dunlop, she could have jumped
for joy, only she was too old for such vio-lent
exercise.
"Pray, miss, what are you laughing to
yourself about ?" asked Alic the evening
before their wedding day.
"Nothing, Alic, only when you were
away I used" to think sometimes that per-haps
you'd marry a Chinese heiress with a
pigtail."
"The sort of thing you would think," he
said, grandly,'' "as it is, you see, I am go-ing
to marry a little girl without a pigtail,
and I am very happy, my darling— are
you?"
"Very, very," she said; and she was.
Marshall, in
the Colonel,
Marshall
thing in
Diving for Gold.
The Hussar Wrecking Company is again
at work trying to recover the gold said to
have been lost with the British man-of-war
Hussar ninety-nine years ago. This work
was begun about thirty years ago, and for
twenty-eight years it was prosecuted regu-larly
every season. Last year nothing was
done, however, and the work this year was
begun very late m the season. It is under
the direction of Mr. Thomas Barnes, whose
brother is a diver and a practical wrecker.
The old Hussar lies in very deep water, off
Port Morris, N. J., a short distance below
the Morrisania gas works, and a schooner
has been anchored on the spot for the pur-pose
of carrying on the work. A reporter
went out to the schooner recently and found
Mr. Barnes, the diver, preparing to go be-low.
"You will have to wait till I come
up." he said; "I can't talk with four hun-dred
pounds weight around me." The
brass helmet was then screwed to his breast-plate,
and his equipment complete, he went
down among the fishes to look for the gold.
The Hussar was backed on a ledge between
the place where she now lies and the shore,
and slid down this to a depth of seventy-five
feet at low tide, her stern sinking deep
into the mud and sand. It is here the gold
is suppossed to be. Her bow and much of
her ballast were removed in past years, and
the skeletons and equipments of fourteen
American prisoners who were drowned
when she went down have been recovered.
Work was resumed on the wreck re-cently
and Mr. Barnes has brought to
the surface some interesting specimens
showing the ship's condition. The wood
work is pretty near all gone, and even the
spikes and bolts are almost eaten away.
Mr. Barnes recently recovered a bit of
broken queensware, showing that he has
visited the Hussars' mess-room, and he
has brought up with him a clam which
made its home in the ship's hold. The
treasure is generally estimated at about a
million dollars, and it is now believed that
it may be reached at any time. "We are
looking for something and we hope we may
find it," said Mr. Barnes as he came out of
the water.
—Over 1,375,000 pounds of lobster
have been put up this season in Kent,
Canada.
—Fruit to the value of 2,937,025 was
exported from the United States last
year,
An Old soldier.
Col. John Frederick Yon Werder, aged
ninety nine years, is an inmate of The Old
Man's Home, at Baltimore. He gives the
following account of his life.
"I was born on the 1st of January, 1780,
in East Prussia, about ten miles from the
"City of Berlin. A strong inclination for a
military life led me to enter the Prussian
army in the year 1796 as an ensign. In the
year 18001 was promoted to a Lieutenancy,
and in 1806, when the war between France
and Prussia broke out, I was advanced to
the rank of Captain. In the great battles
of Jena and Auerstadt, so disastrous to
Prussia, I was made a prisoner-of-war by
the French. Bewitched hy the brilliant
generalship of Napoleon I, I entered the
French service as a captain in the Cavalry.
It was in the years 1807-8 that I fought in
Spain, and while in Granada, in 1808,
married. Senorita Mariana Gracia Velasquez,
daughter of Alfonso Marillo Velasquez, a
grandee of the Kingdom. Early in 1809 I
was promoted to a Colonelcy and ordered
back to Germany to command a regiment
in the campaign against Austria. I was in
the great battles of Aspern, Eschingen,
Wagram, and many other engagements of
less importance. After the battle of Wa-gram,
I was made first Aide-de-Camp to
Gen. Murat," Napoleon's brother-in-law,
who was afterward King of Naples and
Commander-in-chief of the French cavalry.
I attended the wedding of Napoleon to
Maria Louisa, daughter of the Emperor
Francis of Austria, in 1810. It was. late
in 1811 when I was ordered to join the
Grand Army of Invasion into Russia, which
started in the spring of 1812. On account
of Murat being ordered to Italy, I was ap-pointed
First Aide-de-Camp.. to Marshal
Ney, who was Napoleon's "right-hand
man " during that campaign. I took part
in the fight on the banks of the Moskwa,
which opened the gates of Moscow, the an-cient
capital of the Empire. I entered the
city with Napoleon in all his glory, and
was quartered with his staff in the ancient
Castle of „the Kremlin until the city was set
on fire and almost annihilated by the Rus-sians
themselves. Then commenced that
terrible retreat through snow and ice, almost
too awful to remember, with an infuriated
enemy at our backs. This retreat, as you
know ended in the destruction of Napoleon's
army/ After the fearful battle on the
banks of the River Beresina, of my own
regiment, 1,800 strong when we crossed
the Russian frontier in the spring of 1812,
only thirteen re-crossed it in the. winter,
and these were all wounded or sick from
cold or utter destitution. I was myself
twice wounded at Beresina, from which I
still suffer occasionally. After my return
I was laid up in a hospital for several
months, and afterwards rejoined the Prussi-an
army with the rank of Colonel, and fought
in all the principal battles in 1813, entering
France, and afterward Paris, in 1815 fought
at Ligny and Waterloo, and again entered
the Capital of France.
"It was in 1816 and 1817 that I obtained
leave of absence and travelled with Col.
Cominsky through Turkey, Egypt and Ab-yssinia,
where 1 first met Lord Byron. I
was with this celebrated personage for some
time. In 1810 I joined the secret league
for the liberation of Greece and assisted
Alexander Ypsylanti in organizing the
Greek insurrection. I can talk G~eek flu-ently.
I fought from 1820 to 1827 for this
cause, until Greece was free. During that
time I renewed my acquaintance with
Lord Byron, and had frequent interviews
with him until his death in the ruins of
Missolonghi. In 1828 I enta-ed the French
army again, and was attached to the forces
destined for the subjugation of Algiers,
where I remained for nine years engaged in
active service against Ab-del-Kader and I
brahim Pashas, Bedouin Arabs. In the
year 18371 returned once more to Germany
and spent part of the time until 1848 trav-eling
through France, Italy and Turkey.
In the latter year I was forced to leave
Germany for political reasons, and embark-ed
for the United States. It was in Octo-ber
of the year 1848 I landed in Baltimore
with my wife and two sons and one daugh-ter.
We settled in West Virginia, where I
established a nursery for flowers and choice
plants, and we did well until 1852, when a
great flood came and swept away every-thing,
leaving us almost in utter destitution.
I then went to St. Louis, and in 1854" to
South Carolina, where it seemed once more
as if I should spend the rest of my days in
peace and ease, but the War broke out,
wrecking our happiness and fortune. In
1862, my two sons fell in. the ranks of the
Confederate army, and in 1864 death de-prived
me of my wife and daughter. After
the War I went once more to the West,
staying some time in .Missouri and Iowa,
but finding no rest. Afterward, on the in-vitation
of a friend, I visited Florida, where
I remained several years, until compelled
to seek .relief for my rapidly failing eye-sight.
"
Requirements for House Drainage..
Every house drain should have an inlet
for fresh air entering at a point inside the
main trap, and carried to a convenient lo-cation
out of doors, not too near win-dows.
[This pipe will relieve the smaller
house traps from pressure occasioned by a
descending column of water that would
otherwise be likely to force the seals of
these traps. The air drawn through this
inlet to the lower part of the drainage sys-tem,
assists the circulation within the drains
and is essential to insure the diffusion of
the gases generated within them. ]
A trap should be placed on every main
drain to disconnect the house from the
sewer or cesspool. In places liable to un-usual
pressure from the sewer it should be
a double trap, with vent frost between the
two traps, running up full size above the
roof; or, where the pressure from the sewer
is only occasional and the rigor Of climate
will permit, this vent may be carried to the
sidewalk or area, at a safe distance from
windows. If the first trap is forced the gas
can gain easier exit though this pipe than
through the second trap.
Every vertical soil or waste pipe should
be extended at least full size through the
roof. No traps should be placed at the foot
of vertical soil Dipes to impede circulation.
Traps should be placed under all sinks,
basins, baths, wash trays, water closets,
etc., and as near to these fixtures as practi-cable.
All traps under fixtures, whenever prac-ticable,
should be separately ventilated in
order to guard against syphonage. Such
vent pipes should not branch into a soil
pipe below where any drainage enters it.
In some cases it is preferable to carry it to
outward air independently. [The exten-sion
of soil pipe, full size, through the roof,
is not a certain protection againgst syphon-age
of traps branching into it, and no pro-tection
when traps are on a horizontal pipe
a distance from the vertical soil pipe.]
Rain water leaders should not be used as
soil pipes, and when connected with house
drains they should be made of cast iron m
preference to galvanized sheet iron or tin,
there being less liability of corrosion.
Joints should be gas and water tight, to
preclude possibility of drain air entering
open windows.
No safe waste should connect with any
drain, but it should be carried down inde-pendently
to a point where its discharge
would indicate the existence of a leak or
any overflow above.
No waste from a refrigerator should be
connected with a drain.
Unless the water supply is ample, so that
it-will, rise to every part of a building, en-suring
at all times the proper flushing of
fixtures and traps, a cistern should be pro-vided
into which the water will rise at
night, or into which it may be pumped.
Said cistern should be large enough to hold
an ample daily supply, be kept clean, cov-ered,
and properly ventilated. The over-flow
pipe from it should never be run. ilito
any drain under any circumstances. The
supply for drinking-water should not be
drawn from it, but from a direct supply, I.
e., direct from the street main.
Water closets should not be supplied di-rectly
from street pressure, or by a pipe
from which branches are taken for drinking
water. Where the valve closets are pre-ferred
to those that are supplied from a
small cistern immediately over them, then
the supply should be taken to a storage
tank, from which it can be conveyed to the
valves on the closets, thereby ensuring an
equable pressure, and securing more relia-bility
in their working.
All drain pipes within a house should be
of metal in preference to stoneware,owing
to the liability of the latter to crack and
the difficulty of keeping, the joints tight.
It is best to run them along the cellar wall
or ceiling with a good incline. They should
never be hidden underground, as then leaks
will not be perceptible. In-some places it
is common to paint pipes white so that any
leakage will show itself to the most careless
observer.
All drains should be kept at all times
free from deposit; and if this cannot be
effected without flushings special flushing
arrangements should be provided so as to
effectually remove all foul matter, from the
house drains to the public sewers.
All drains should be laid in a straight
line, with proper falls, and should be care-fully
jointed and made water tight. No
right-angled junction should be allowed,
except in the case of a drain discharging
into a vertical shaft.
No drain should be so constructed as to
pass under a dwelling-house, except where
absolutely necessary; and then it should be
constructed of cast-riron pipes, with lead
caulked joints laid so as to be ..readily ac-cessible
for inspection, and ventilated at
each end.
Whenever dampness of site exists it
should be remedied by laying subsoil
drains, which should pass not directly to
the sewer, but should have a suitable break
or disconnection.
Water supply and drain pipes should be
concentrated as much as possible, and not
scattered about? a building. Horizontal
pipes are objectionable.
Plumbing fixtures should not be hidden
behind walls and partitions, where their
condition is never apparent. They ought
properly to be open to view and so situated
that any leak would be readily detected.
It is also, well to have a plan of the plumb-ing
of each house for the tenants or owner's
convenience and guidance in any emer-gency.
In planning house drains they should be
got outside the w;alls of the house as quick-ly
as possible, so that there may be few
joints of pipe, and the smallest chance of
leakage from defects or accidents, taking
proper precautions in locating to guard
against freezing.
The P u r p l e of the Ancients.
The purple 01 tne ancients nas lately been
studied by Mr. Edward Schunck. Sum-ming
up the results of the investigations of
Reaumur, Dutramel, Bancroft and Cole re-garding
this dye, which was obtained from
various kinds of shell-fish, he says: "It is
a secretion like pus found in a small whitish
cyst under the shell, close to the head of
the animal. This matter, when applied to
white linen and exposed to the light of the
sun, changes from, yellow, through light
green, dark green and blue, to purplish red
crimson, evolving meanwhile an odor of
garlic or asafetida. Daylight is so essential
to this reaction that the secretion, if kept
in the dark will preserve its original hue
for years, hut will then change when ex-posed
to light. The alteration of color is
not promoted by heat, and the transition
will go on in a vacuum or in the presence
of hydrogen or nitrogen gas. Soap alkalies
and most of the acids have no effect upon
the color finally produced, but nitric acid
and chlorine will destroy it." Mesdames
A. and G. Negri have lately obtained a red
and blue coloring substance from a species
of murex. Mr. Schunck himself made
many experiments with the matter taken
from the shell-fish called Purpura lapillus,
found at low water on the rocks near Hast-ings,
England. It changes from pale yel-low
to purple, without being applied to
linen, if it is subjected to light, and does so
even when boiling. The chromogel can be
completely extracted by alcohol and either
from the pounded cysts. The golden solu-tion
thus obtained becomes purple when ex-posed
to light, and ultimately precipitates
a granular and crystalline powder, insoluble
in boiling benzol and boiling glacial acetic
acid, easily sduble in boiling aniline, and
yielding a sublmate of crystals of a metal-lic
luster, and naving edges of a deep indi-go-
blue color. Ast ne author believes that
the coloring matter belongs to an unknown
member of the indigo-blue group, he pro-poses
to call it "punicin,"
"Floating" for Deer.
The Freaks ot a Psychologist.
Two methods are adopted by hunters to
get deer—"floating" by night and driving
with dogs by day. The former requires
some skill and good marksmanship; the
latter, neither. In "floating" a dark night
is selected, and the guide paddles noise-lessly
to the feeding-ground of the deer,
where the lily pads are numerous. À
sharp ear is kept for the movement ot the
game in the water, and when sufficiently
near the hunter opens his dark lantern and
directs the strong rays of light in the di-rection
of the sound. Half stuepified, the
deer stares at the bright light in amaze-ment,
while the hunter pulls the trigger,
which releases the leaden messenger of
destruction.
Mr. Simpson imagines he is quite an
authority on psychology and other things
of a scientific nature. He frequently goes
around to, various places to display hii skill
which is rather marvelous, to say the least.
The other day he stepped into a large
grocery store, in which quite a crowd was
congregated.
"Psychology is a term employed by the
most recondite savants in their investiga-tions
of metaphysical phenomena," roared
Mr. Simpson, bringing his hand down pat-riotically
on the head of a flour barrel. .
The crowd laughed, at which demonstra-tion
the old man put on his spectacles and
said:
"Is there any one present who believes
in psychology?"
"How is it generally cooked, with egg
sauce?"
"It isn't an edible," roared Mr. Simpson
wildly.
"No, no," said another man, "it ain't a
vegetable, it's a chemical; a kind of yellow
drug."
"No, it isn't a yellow drug, or a purple
drug, either."
"Is it a new kind of overcoat?" inquired
a puny man with weak ; eyes, who was
drawing hard on a clay pipe.
Mr. Simpson danced around like a wild
man. He finally informed the. crowd of the
definition of the term, and begged some one
to furnish him with a lock of hair, so that
he could satisfy them of the soundness of
the theory of psychology by giving them
the characteristics of the person upon whose
head it originally grew.
One man drew out a lock of hair and
handed it over to the psychologist, who
was dancing around in an ecstasy of glee,
and acting-like a harlequin. He laid it in
the palm of his left hand, and, after look-ing.
at it carefully for some time and mak-ing
peculiar faces, said:
"The owner of this hair was amiable
and gentle."—
"Correct!" yelled the donor of the hair,
his face radiant with smiles; "correct,
that's my late wife, and you've struck it."
"She was fond of music ?"
"You're right she was; she could ham-mer
more music out of a piano in ten min-utes
than you could listen to in an hour."
"She was a most determined woman,"
mused the psychologist as he turned the
hair over several times and looked wiser
than ever.
"Indeed she was,'' responded the widow-er,
scratching his head, "when Mirandy
made up her mind to a thing she would
carry it through if it cost her life. Why
whatever she made up her mind to have
anything, she always managed to have it."
"She was violent at times ?"
"She was,"replied the widower." "I
am just one archipelago, of scars. She used
to wait behind the door for me at night,
and scale me with a broom."
At this juncture the hair was returned to
the owner, and Mr. Simpson, highly elated
at the favorable impression made by his
remarks, said:
"Has anyone in the crowd got-some
more hair ? I want some one to try to stick
me if possible, I was never stuck yet. Give
me the whiskers of a musquito's,
and I'll give its pronounced traits."
At this moment the puny man
returned from the sidewalk, and remarked
that he possessed some hair which he would
like the psychologist to work upon.
"Let's- have it ? Let's have it I" scream-ed
Mr. 'Simpson in a burst of rapturous
laughter; just hand over that there hair,
and I'll tell you all about so fast that you'll
have to pry your ears open to catch all the
information."
Then he took the hair, looked at intently
a moment, and said:
"The owner of this hair was a man of
great scholarship and research ; he was par-ticularly
bright and was much liked by his
cotemporaries. He was a man of great
forethought, and his morality was one of
the features of the nineteenth century. He
had a great nack of acquiring wealth, and
his generosity was a thing which was sub-lime.
He also had a wonderfully retentive
memory, and was very lovable and sincere
in his manner of dealing with people."
"No he wasn't," yelled the puny man.
"Wasn't he a good man?" inquired Mr.
Simpson.
"No, he was not," caroled the attenuated1
individual. "That hair came out of my
horse's tail."
Then there was a lively scene, from
which the psychologist flitted in a manner
that was as beautiful as it was ambiguous.
To keep oranges.
Dr. E. B. Miles, of Leesburg, Fla.,
writes that last spring he took eighteen
sweet oranges cut fresh from the tree, with
the stems left on, and packed them away
in dry sand as follows: six wrapped in
oiled paper, six m plain tissue paper, and
six in direct contact with the sand, though
so located as not to touch each other. Nail-ed
on lid of the box and put away in a coo1
place. On the 5th of August, just three
months after, he unpacked them and found
all perfectly sound and good. At the col-lecting
to pack, all the oranges were old
ones, having been hanging ripe on the tree
for six or seven months, and more liable to
decay sooner than if just ripened. Some
were rusty and a little shrivelled, and others
mottled. Taking cognizance of this last
named item, as also of the season in which
they were put up, not only adds value to
the experiment, but indeed renders it a
more thorough test. If seems one portion
kept as well as another, but he considers it
best to put them bare into the sand, that is
without any wrapping. . Several times, and
also during our hottest weather, when above
ninety degrees Fahrenheit, he tested the
sand with a thermometer and found the
temperature always eighty-one degrees sev-eral
inches below the surface. Now it ap-pears
somewhat singular that fruit, especi-ally
of such a perishable nature as the
orange, will keep so long and so well in such
a substance, and at a season of such high
temperature.. Yet the truth of Dr. Miles'
statement cannot be questioned. The doc-tor
was himself astonished at theresult, but
he attempts to explain the mystery as fol-lows
: "The dry sand absorbs the redun-dant
moisture and juice of the rind, pre-vents
the evaporation of its essential oil,
and completely precludes the action of the
air ; conditions necessary and conducive to
the preservation of fruit, and the prevention
of decomposition."
—The oil wells in Pennsylvania pour
out altogether about 50,000 barrels of
oil daily.
—The increase in tlie assessed valua-tion
of propectv in Montana in 1877
over that of 1876, was $1,254,733,45.
B R I E F S .
—The barley crop of Pennsylvania is
the largest ever harvested.
—Thelsonesofa supposed mastodon
have been unearthed in Wellsboro,
Tioga county, Pa.
—The cotton factories iii and around
Augusta, Gra., use $1,500,000 worth of
raw cotton per annum.
—About 120,000 pounds of fl.sk were
caught on one tide in the Great Pond
Inlet, Long Branch, recently.
—Chutahsohtih, a North Carolina In-dian
chief', died the other day, aged
somewhere from 120 years up.
—A Murfreesboro, Tenn., negro is
103 years old. He has just married his
seventh wife, who is 32.
—The price at which Gounod has sold
the score of his new opera, "Tribut de
Zomora," is said to be $20,000
—Mr. James Gordon Bennett paid
$60,000 for the Sydney Brooks villa at
Newport.
—The harbor of Melbourne is to be
improved at a cost of $6,000,000, so as to
admit of ships of any burden coming
right up to the city.
—The Railroad Gazette ssys that 1,476
miles of railroad have been made in the
United States so far this year, against
614 in 1875. . -
—Nebraska is filling up and growing.
A late census shows a population of
346,400, being an increase of 263,417
since 3870.
—Tlie taxable valuation of property
in Providence, R: I., is $115,581,700, a
falling off of $1,500,000 from last year.
The tax rate is $14 ou $1,000.
—It is estimated that there were at -
Saratoga during thessummer just end-ed
20,000 more visitors than during any
summer before. • t'
—Tlie valuation of Jt>8 cities and
„towns in Massachusetts tor 1879is $299,-
835,608, as compared with $306,432,367
last year.
—Quail imported from Europe last
fall, according to the Watsontown (Pa.)
Herald, are multiplying rapidly in
Northumberland county.
—During the twenty years from 1857
to 1877, Russia gained in population by
the excess of arrivals over departures a
total of 936,549 persons.
—In ninety years the number of post-offices
in the United States has increas-ed
from 75 to 40,876. The number has
doubled since 1852.
—Philadelphia registers 193,477voters.
—There are in India 1,200,000 Chris-tians,
of which 1,000,000 are 200,000 are
Protestants of all. denominations.
—One of the most wonderful results
in speculation is* the appreciation of
railroad stocks within the year, the ag-gregate
increase being over $121,000,000.
—Great Britain holds at present
bonds not exceeding $130,000 of United
States bonds, and Germany, France,
and the rest of Europe about $70,000,000.
—Since 1859 the average duration of
life in Paris has increased by 1% years.
The mean annual mortality is but 20
in 1,000, against 27 in 1,000 in New
York.
—The American Iron Works, atPitts-burg,
Pa., are about to erect additional
puddling furnaces. They now have
seventy-five, seventy-two of them are
being operated double turn.
—The Rer. Newman Hall's new
church in London cost $320,600, all of
which except $22,500 has been paid.
The church has 1,225 members, and car-ries
on much benevolent work.
—John M, Laird, editor of the
Greensburg Argus, is a veteran among
the editors of Pennsylvania. He has
been connected with newspapers, in
one way or another for sixty-six years.
—There are, at present only 186 ves-sels
engaged in whale fisherv, as against
688 in 1854. New Bedford,"Mass., still
leads in the business, only twenty-five
of the vessels employed not being from
that port.
An Illinois farmer astanished Deca-tur
by going into that place with a
train of six wagons, laden with 375
bushels of oarley, and drawn by a
steam road locomotive of his own in-vention
—John Bright's son, Mr. William
Leatham Bright, who is in this country,
has had his recognizances forfeited at
Salford Sessions for neglecting to ap-pear
against a prisoner arrested for
swindling.
—Wadsworth Rollins is on his way
from New York to Chicago on a bicy-cle.
He left the former place on July
3d, and spent some time at Saratoga.
He is not hurrying, as the trip is for
pleasure and not a task.
—Down to the close of 1878, the Uni-ted
States had produced a total, of 2,-
145,585, net ton of Bessemer Steel Rails.
In 1863, when the States first imported
Bessemer Steel Rails from this country,
they paid us at the rate of 150 per ton,
—The excess of receipts of the Pat-ent
Office for the fiscal year ending
June 30th, over expenditures, was
$189,405. This amount is the largest in
the history of the office, with the excep-tion
of 1869, when the excess amounted
to $200,000. v
—From April to August last oyer
17,000 cabin passengers left this coun-try
for Furope. It would be a low-average
to estimate that these passen-gers
spend $1,000 apiece in Furope, and
this means the expenditure of $17,000,-
000 abroad in gold.
—The St. Louis School Board in re-solving
to employ none but colored
teachers in the colored schools here-after,
have provided for fifty-six of
these teachers. The attendance is said
to have increased, and colored parents
are taking greater interest in the
schools,
—Prussia has eighteen prisons for
tramps and vagrants. Ill 1874 there
were 4.600 commitments to these insti-tutions,
but the number has increased
every year, and for 1978 was 9,000. Of
these S,000 were men and l,00&*vomen.
They cost the country $650,000, but
earned while in durance $275,000.
—British India has forty-four cities,
counting 50,000 inhabitants and up-wards,
the most, populous being :—Cal-cutta,
892,429; Bombay, 644,405; Mad-ras,
397,552;-Lucknow, 284,779-; Be-nares,
175,188 ; Patna, 158,909; Delhi,
154,417; Agra, 149,008; Allahabad, .
143,693; Bangalore, 142.153 ; Umritsur,
135,813; Cawnpore, 122,770; Poona,
118,886; Ahmedabad, 116,1573; Surat,
107,149; Bareilly, 102,982; Lahore, 98,-
924 ; and Rangoon, 98,745.