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- ;.V: pp * . • ,» «*' » cntg paindtitlcr 1. VMI SLYKt. Editor an 4 PubllsMr. McHENRY, ILLINOIS F T1 BARKTIKUS. f - A stretch of common land, abloom With golden gore a and yolhvw And bright with bracken sprays, f ust t uiohed through all their summer green l ith autumn gold. A plnoi" Fair sport for restful days. 4?#' 'rC* & prev old church of time-touched stOMt I i,%||^4. WIth"porch and turret ivy-grown, ( >* •/ ' ' ? And chancel-window red, pjiftn lonely bore its anoient 5,-j.r ^pjuvn luuciy uurw iw nuuinuv -ft»- %And where the holy shadow j • Sleep sonnd the quiet dead. : j, ' ^ I •<f ^ T sit me down among the graves, | S '•{ t tThe gentle west wind softly ,v, *•"• And little ripples pass 1 i ! • tAcroKS the greensward at my f<wt^ • s j And stir the countless blossoms sweet } \ That deck the graves'green grass. s . . • 1 S l o w g a y t h e y s h o w , t h e s e n a r r o w h o m M * *•%. Of silent rest! The wild bee roama f •*: H, From flowerful mound to mound; | • A throstle's carol in the tree. ;•.} ' •Full, heart and voice, of summer glee, f • Scarce breaks the calm profound. ! •! ' ow love hath decked the blessed ipotl f ** ere pansy and forget-me-not - f . Mate borders round a rose; 7 ?• ere. through a lily's parian cap < ->» n slender column lifted up, ; i,a The golilen sunaliiiie shows. ^ ' ut in a corner all alone, ? V ? see a grave without a atone, \ „ j Without a planted flow«; v: I Eon- long, how long sinoelove kaett than^ Xn sore bereavement's first despair, s In woe's first aching hour? j Wo mark of love's regret is seen, - _( f".•, TTet is the lonely grave-plot green, , ! And clothed from hea l to foot Sith bormy harebells, wild and bine, wind-like lightness, heaven's own That here have taken root. ifhey toss their heads with sunny grace, Abov » that nameless resting-plaoe, And flutter in the breese; " - . - '• STo blo=»oin8 carven from the sWjlhtt t , J'Jto white e\ot c newly b'ewn, I " %i'f" Shows comelier than these. >»»»*•,: . **' stretch my hand to pluck a bell, *1 "I mumnr: "Nature doeth well; ' .. She cbooseth this lone spot. iThere 120 love-tokening flower is seen, * > And spreads her ha ebells, blue and groen, 0\r craves "oy man forgot." •---.411 the I'-'-ir Rain l. •4 NUMBER 492. Some jean ago I was making a sketching tonr in the West country, and found myself one September after- , ing.cage noon on Dartmoor, a few miles from wni1^„ Princes Town. 1 had been strolling lazily about for some time, when I sud­ denly came upon a bit of moorland, which, I decided, it wa3 imperatively my duty to transfer to canvas; so I sat down on a mossy bowlder, and was soon diligently at work, and absorbed In the task of trying* to represent the lovely autumnal tints on stream, rock, and heather. Intent on my picture, I took no note of time, till suddenly I perceived the shadows getting omin­ ously long; and, consulting my watch, I found it was past 5 o'clock, and that, unless I made a Bpeedy start, I should hardly reach Princes Town before nightfall; so I hastily packed np my traps, deciding that I would come and finish the Bketch on the following day. I was just lighting my pipe, prepara­ tory to starting, when I fancied that I saw something move behind a large rook a few yards away, and I heard what sounded very like a smothered cough. I was a bit startled, as, save tike birds, no living thing had been near mo for hours; but I thought I would see what it was, so I walked up to the •pot, and, pushing aside the high bracken, was going to examine the plaoe, when suddenly a figure rose up and confronted me. I am not a nerv­ ous man, but J must confess I got a start as I saw before me a man clothed in convict garb, bareheaded, wild, and dishevelled. Even in my first alarm, I remember I noticed the number 492 on his clothes, and I don't fancy I shall ever forget that number. I grasped my stick firmly, and thought to myself that I was, so to speak, in a very nice little fix. Convicts are not pleasant neighbors at any time; but a tete-a-tete with an escaped convict on a lonely moor, miles from any house, is decid­ edly an interview not to be desired. However, my fears speedily subsided, for my convict did not seem at all dis­ posed to make himself disagreeable, oat merely stood looking at me, trem­ bling in every limb, and from time to time coughing in a way that shook lis wasted frame all over. Poor chap! he - was a piteous spectacle--his cheeks all sunk and hollow, and with his prison dress just hanging about him, he looked like a living skeleton. The situation was awkward to me.' As a law-abiding citizen, I felt that it was my duty to take some means of re­ storing him to the establishment of Princes Town, which he bad evidently quitted without leave; while, as an or­ dinary human being, I felt the sincerest pity for the haggard fellow who stood there, gazing at me with hollow, fever­ ish eyes. However, the contest between duty and compassion was speedily put to an end by No. 492 himself; for, after a more than usual racking cough, his legs gave way under him and he rolled down among the bracken. Duty fled; compassion won the' day. I went and picked him up, and propped him with nit back against a rock, where he gasped and choked till I really thought lie would die then and there. In a minute or two, however, he revived, and in a very faint and feeble voice said: 'Tm nigh starved, guv'nor; I guess it's about up with me." I went back to get some sandwiches out of my case, and offered them to him. He seized them eagerly, and began to eat them ravenously; but again a ter­ rible fit of coughing came on, and he sank back, saying: "It ain't no use; I can't eat now; s'pose I'm gone toe far." Here was a pleasant position. The man was evidently in the last stage of IVhaustion; and even my unpracticed eye could see that No. 492 had his days, or even hours, numbered. I moistened his lips with some brandy out of my flask, and saw, to my sat­ isfaction, that this produced a de­ cided improvement. But what in the world I should do next perplexed me sorely, so I repeated the dose of brandy, and took counsel with myself a3 to the move. Under the influence of the brandy, my patient propped himself up again, and with great difficulty told me how he had wandered over the moor, till want of food and exposure had--to use his •wn words--"spoilt his game," and he *as going back to prison to give him- Jelf up. Seeing me sketching, and feeling his. strength almost gone, he bad decided to cOme and surrender himself to me; but when he got near, the poor fellow's courage failed him', and he had crawled away behind the Stock where I discovered him. "It ain't no use my trying to get , , away, guv'nor," said he, sadly; "I'm *' '.4 fhat weak I can't walk a step. 1? ^ touldn't escape now, not if a carriage- - and-four was waiting for me. I'd want a nuss to lift me up into it. Ouess I'll die in quod after all;" W&i x did not think he would die in ||| i kept mj thoughts to my self, for I felt sure that before the prison could be reaohed. No 492 would be far enough away, and it would only be a suit of convict clothes or a wasted skeleton that would enter the gloomy gate. N ' ' Look here, my poor chap," said I. "You can't stop here; jo\l must let,me carry you as well as I can, and I must try ajjd get you back to the prison." I peating felt rather mean as I said this, for 11 guv'nor did pity him heartily. 1 knew noth ng al»out his crimes. He might have been the greatest villain; yet I felt for him, having just tasted liberty, and having to go back to captivity. Still I could do nothing else; and a single glance at him showed pretty plainly that the prison would not hold him long, even i,f we ever got there. I expected some attempt at resistance; but, to my sur­ prise, he quietly acquiesced, saying: "All right, guv'nor; it can't be elped. I've had my try, but summat told as I wouldn't succeed." It was now getting late, and the sun was just down, so there was no time to be lost, as we had a long way to go and I was rather doubtful about my powers of carrying him, for he was, or had been, of a tolerable size and weight; but now he looked such a mere bundle of bones, that 1 thought I might man­ age it At any rate, there was nothing to do but to try; so 1 hoisted him up on my back and started off in the di­ rection of Princes Town. I shall not easily forget that journey; it soon grew quite dark, as I toiled on over the lonely road, with frequent halts to rest, while poor No. 492 grew weaker and weaker, and his terrible cough more and more frequent. We had gone, I suppose, about three miles, when I began to feel that it was quite impossible for tte to accomplish the remaining distance, as it was so dark that I stumbled painfully over the rough path, and at each stumble toy burden groaned with pain, and coughed so dismally that I felt my 'well-meant endeavors were only put­ ting him to complete torture; so I stopped, laid him down on the grass, and told him that we would not try to go on until the moon rose. "All right, guv'nor," said he, feebly, and fell back fainting; so I administered the last few drops of brandy I had left, covered him up as well as I could with my coat, propped his head upon my sketch- sat down by his side, and wondered what would b9 the end of my adventure. I looked at my watch and saw that it was 9 o'clock. The moon, I knew, would not rise till nearly midnight, so we had three hours to wait. I think those three hours were the longest I ever passed in my lif& The silence and the loneliness of the moor were terrible, and No. 492 lay with his eyes closed, and,save for an occasional groan, might have been dead. Once or twice he tried to speak, but apparently it was beyond his powers, and he fell back again exhausted. Once he put out his hand, caught mine, and, to my great surprise, carried it to his lips and kissed it. I am not much used to having my hand kissed at any time, and should probably, under any circumstances, feel the situation embarrassing; but to have it kissed by a dying convict out on Dartmoor, in the middle of the night, was a novel experience. I did not mean to hurt the feelings of No. 492, but I drew it away some­ what hastily; and then, seeing his lips move, as if he was trying to say some­ thing, I bent over him to listen, and in a voice little more than a whisper he said: "Beg yonr pardon, sir; but you've been precious kind to me, and I feel weak and silly; didn't mean no offense." I hastened with some compunction to assure him that I was not offended; and again he closed his eyes; and around us once more was silence. At last, to my great joy, the sky brightened up a bit; the outlines of the trees became more distinct, and the moon appeared over the hills, and shot a flood of silver light all over the moor. My spirits, which had fallen below zero, revived considerably; darkness has at all times a depressing influence, and, under iny peculiar circumstances, had reduced me to a most profound melan­ choly. I felt quite glad to see the moon rise, though, beyond the fact of being able to see where we were, it did not materially assist me out of the fix I was in. I looked at No. 492, and he seemed to be asleep. I did not like to wake him, so I got np quietly, intending to walk to the top of the hill close by, and see if I could discover the lights of Princes Town, or any house nearer, to which I might direct my steps. I was not gone long--perhaps half an hour; and when I came back, I found 492 with his eyes wide open, and to my great surprise--though I do not know why 1 should have been so sur­ prised--tears running down his cheeks. Really, my ideas about convicts were becoming quite upset; one who fur­ tively kissed my hand, and who wept, was, I thought, indeed an anom­ aly. I bent over him and asked if he was in worse pain, or what was the matter. Poor fellow! he lifted his wasted hand, drew it across his eyes, and said: "No; 1 ain't in no pain now, sir; bnt I woke from a bit of a doze and saw that you was gone; and I thought as how you had left me; and somehow I felt lonesome ana afeard;" and then a great sob shook him. I assured him that I was not going to leave him, and he appeared com­ forted. Then, after a pause, said: ain't one as has been much afeared in my tiqae, sir; but, somehow, now I can't 'elp it; it seems all of a tremble: and it looks awful dark ahead of me, and I be so weak I don't seem able to ^ace it nohow." I longed truly to be able to help him, and wished it with all my heart that I could do it better; but feeling rather ashamed, I tried to tell No. 492 something about strong Hand which will help in the dark valley, and One who will be near us when, of ourselves, as he said: "We don't seem able to face it, nohow." He listened attentively, and then closed his eyes, murmuring something I could not catch. After a pause, I asked him if he would try to go on again; "All right, guv'nor; you knows bt-st," was his answer, but very faint and feeble. Well, I picked him up again, and off I started. By this time the moon was high up, so we progressed a good deal faster than before, and had traversed a considerable distance before I had to stop and put my burden down. Even then, I could have gone a bit further, but No. 492 whispered: "Stop, sir, now; it ain't no use; 'I shan't get no further." I laid him down, and saw at a glance that our journey together was about to end. In the moonlight he looked ghastly and wan; and as I laid him down, a violent fit of coughing came on, and after it a red stream flowed from his mouth. Poor fellow! thought I; and yet I could hardly pity him really, for to him death must have come es s teas friend. Be lay qniet for some time, and I wiped the blood from his lips; then just as the first gray streak of dawn appeared, he raised himself on his elbow and whispered: "I've been a bad 'un, I knows; but I didn't 'ave no chance. 8ay a bit of praj-er for me, sir." There was no refusing; and a* I fin­ ished, his face lighted np, and again re* his formula, "All right, he fell back--dead. He had succeeded in his escape, after all. I covered up the body, and thinking no one would be likely to come near the spot, I drew it aside near the rock which I should recognize again, and started off, walking briskly to Princes Town, considering many things by the way. I went to the prison, and came back with some Varders to show them the spot: and, as I was obliged to await the inquest, I attended the funeral of poor No. 492. I trust that in the "Other Land" it may be for him"--as for many of us for whom it has been ull wrong--"All right." -- Chambers' Journal. %, Criminal Newspaper Publishers. Ours is a wicked world, but is it n** cessary for the newspapers to give ,ui daily the details of its wickedness? It is not only unnecessary, but it is crim­ inal. It benefits no one. It certainly injures many. Published crimes are the parents of crimes to be committed. The columns filled with details of divorce, adultery, and murder, are pest­ iferous sinks teeming with contagious microbe? of sin. These, when spread over the land, breed after their kind. As the healthiest body is not proof against contagious disease, neither iii the purest mind safe irom the insidious influences of daily contact with the de­ tails ot atrocities and the recital of what is evil and unclean. These stories of crime are germs of iniquity that poison the moral atmos­ phere. \ Take almost any of the daily papers published in the larger cities. Is it not a fact that a considerable percentage of the matter they contain is descriptions of crimes and criminals? The head­ lines are enough to make us think that we are living among savages, thieves, and thugs vile--wretches whose brutal vices leave no room for human virtue. Doubtless there will, sooner or later, be reform in this matter, for it is too atrocious and shameless a thing to last. When the man in the latter end of the next century digs up in the museum of the future, a copy of a New York or Chicago paper, dated 1885, he will think that we weta^ very bad lot in­ deed. As he reads over such headlines as: ANOTHER SUNDAY SCHOOL TEACHER GONE WITH THB BANK'S FUNDS. BRUTAL ASSAULT ON A WIFE. A SPICY DIVOBCE CASE. BETRAYED BY HEB COUSIN. A WOMAN or 60 SKIP3 WITH A KID. ANOTHER PREACHER'S DOWNFALL AMP DISORACE. A WOMAN IN THE CASE. ETC., ETC., ETC., he will wonder why brimstone sod fire did not come down and wipe out the ungodly and depraved wretches who inhabited the United States in A. D. 1885. It certainly cannot be argued that if the wife of an obscure carpenter in New Jersey elopes with the village schoolmaster, or that if a policeman in Kalamazoo saws his head off, either is an item of news of any interest to the general public; yet just such matters are published and read daily in every town in the United States. Why Bhould the record of vice be considered more a matter of interesting news than a record of virtues. The avei age newspaper publisher will tell you that the public want reports of crimes. The average newspaper publishes lies. The publio do not want it. The public get it and have to take it with the other matter in the paper that they do not want. Certain individuals may like such nastiness--there are men in the world whom it would lie base flattery to call dogs--but the taste for it that these individuals have was acquired, and they were educated to like it by the newspaper publishers. Are there not many good, virtuous, noble and benevolent people in the world ? How would it be if the news­ papers were to record their deeds, and treat us to a jubilee of virtue instead ef nightmare of vice? If the description of a peculiar suicide prompts some poor depressed being to end his ills by the same mode of self-slaughter, may we not logically expect that the record of a benevolent act, or the narrative of a noble deed, will have its influence in prompting othens to do likewise. I commend this to our less esteemed cotemporaries.--</. Armoy Knox, in Texas Sif tings. THE ONIOM. Draw offhlo satin vatatoM^ # Tear his silk shirt apart, v : - .> >f And, weeping tears of pleaton. Creep closer to his heart J Wrapt in this modorn mummy In ccaaelcsa fold on fold; Tet what a wondrous powor Those endleHS wrappings hold I Of til the vegetables From garden's length to toBffth, t He is the one most mighty-- Epitome of strength. " When'er hia person enters, J All noses snuff the air ' And epicurean stomachs For gastric tears prepare.' A subtle spirit rises Of dinner in fnll bloom. ' An appetizing odor Pervading all the room. When at the well-lald'table, How is the palate blest t Ho betters other dishes, Yet is himself the best. Bnt call upon your lady- Why is nor smile so grimf • Before a word is spoken She knows yoa've been wltb hitn I --Boiton Transcript. ' ' V \ 1 Composing Under Difficulties. In October, 1787, after his return to Vienna, Mozart produced his greatest opera, "Don Giovanni." As late as the night before the performance the over­ ture had not been copied. Mozart wrote on until late into the night, and his wife could only keep him awake by telling him the old fairy tales, such as he loved when a child; at times he would break from laughter to tears, until, growing more and more weary, he fell asleep. At seven the next morning, he arose and finished the score, the ink in some parts being scarcely dry when the copies were placed on the musicians' desks. The musicians had to play the overture at sight, but its beauties arou ed the enthusiasm of both the players and the audience. Mozart superintended all the rehearsals, and inspired the singers with his own ideas and feelings. He taught the hero to dance a minuet, and when one of the singers failed to con- quor his score, Mozart altered it on the spot. At last the Kmperor bestowed a court position on Mozart, but the sal­ ary was so meager--it was less than $500--that it was of little help'io him, while his duty, to compose dance^usic for the court, was humiliating. Well could he reply, when asked his income by the tax-gatherer, "Too much for what I do; too little for what I could dj».*--St. Nicholas. Everts' Bon Met. Senator Evarts' bon mot gotten off at Mount Vernon to Chief Justice Coler­ idge has been wrongly quoted. What he really said was "Lord Colori«lge, I do not doubt that Gen. Washington threw that dollar across the Potomac. He was a man of great physical strength, and, as you will remember, he threw a British sovereign across the ocean."--Chicago Herald* CLOVBS AM) StNUGHT. BY DUNCAN MACOBSGOB. . Wanted: Men. Not systems fit ami wise, ; Not faiths with rigid eyes, Not wealth in mountain piles, Not power with gorgeous smiles, Not even the potent pen; Wanted; Men. i/ Wanted: Deeds. fret words of winning note. Not thoughts from !ife remote, Not fond religious airs, Not.sweetly I anguid pray#rfl, Not [love of scent and Greeds; '*•+ (Wanted: Deeds. , Men and Deeds. M«n that can dare and do; Not longings for the new, Not pratings of the old; Good life and action bold-- * These the occasion needs, Men and Deeds. FORMER PRESIDEHTS. Circuinwlaiices Under Which They Have Died flroiu Washington to <»rnnt. Oen. Washington, the first President, took cold during a five hours' ride over his plantation, on the 12th of Dpcember, 179'J, during the last two hours of whioh he was exposed to a severe storm of snow, hail and rain. The cold de­ veloped itself next evening, when he was very hoarse, but he made light of it. "I never take anything for a cold," he said; "let it go as it came." At 2 o'clock next morning he. awakened his wife, but would not let her rise to send for a physician lest the latter should take cold. When Washington's Secre­ tary was called at daybreak he found him breathing with difficulty. Physi­ cians were sent for, and meanwhile he was bled and a gargle was prepared, but on attempting to use it he was con­ vulsed and nearly suffocated. The remedies of the physicians were also without avail, and at 4:30 p. m. he sent his wife for his two wills, had her de­ stroy one and entrusted the other to her keeping, giving her instructions as to his letters, papers and accounts. Be­ tween five and six, when assisted to sit np, he said to his physicians, "I feel that I am going. I thank you for your attentions, but I pray you to take no more trouble about me; let me go off quietly--I cannot last long." Further remedies were tried without avail in the evening. "About 10," writes his Secretary, "he made several attempts to speak to me before he could effect it. At length he said: 'I am just going; have me decently buried, and do not let my body be put into the vault in less than three days after I am dead.' I bowed assent, for I could not speak. He then looked at me again and said: 'Do you understand me?' I replied: Yes.' 'Tis well,' he said. About ten minutes before he expired (which was between 10 and 11 o'clock) his breathing became easier. He lay quietly; he withdrew his hand from mine and felt his own pulse. I saw his countenance change, and spoke to Dr. Craik, who came to the bed-side. The General's hand fell from his wrist; I took it in mine and pressed it to my bosom. Dr. Craik put his hands over his eyes, and he died without a struggle or a sigh." The body was buried on the 18th, a schooner being stationed off Alexandria to fire minute guns while the procession moved from the house to the vanlt. The troops, horse and foot, led the way; then came four of the clergy; then Washington's horse, with his saddle, holsters and pistols, led by two grooms in black; then the body, borne by the Masonic order (of which he was a member), and officers, followed by the family and several old friends, and the corporation of Alexan­ dria. At the tomb the Rev. Mr. Davis read the funeral service and delivered a brief address, after which the body was deposited in the vault with Masonio ceremonies. Washington's remains were deposited in their present recep­ tacle at Mount Vernon in 1837. The vault was built in accordance with the provisions of his will, and is of brick, with an arch roof. Over the grateway, in a marble tablet, is the simple in­ scription: "Within this enclosure rest the remains of General George Wash­ ington." Two coffins lie in the vesti­ bule of the vault; the first is that of Washington, the other that of Martha Washington. The Mount Vernon As­ sociation has taken good care of the first President's last resting-place. JOHN ADAMS. ° John Adams, the second President, died on July 4th, 1826, the semi-century of American independence. Adams, at 91, preserved a remarkable activity of mind, though his sight was impaired so that he could neither read nor write. By April, 1826, it was evident that he was failing, though his neighbors in Quincy, Mass., hoped fondly that he would* be able to attend the local Fourth of July celebration. When, however, it became apparent that he could rot attend in person, a delegate was appointed to visit him and beg a last word or cheerful message. On June 30, the delegate called on Mr. Adams, and "spent some few minutes with him in conversation, and took from him a toast to be presented on the Fourth of July as coming from him." "I will give," said he, "Independence For­ ever!" When asked if he would not add anything to it, he replied: "Kot a word." At this time Mr. Adams ex- Eerienred no suffering, but respiration ecame more and more diilicult, till on the morning of the 4th Dr. Holbrook predicted that the patient would not last much beyond sunset. "Unceasing shouts," we ave told, "greeted the toast offered at the Quincy banquet," but as the guests left the hall, news came of the death of its author. He had passed away calmly and without suffering at the sunset of that brilliant and memor­ able day. "Thomas Jefferson still sur­ vives," were the last words he uttered, so far as could be gathered from bis failing articulation. He was buried in the family vault in the cemetery, but upon the completion of the Unitarian Church, of Quincy, just across the street, in 1828, the body was removed to the vault in the room beneath the also buried in 1849. Their wives are buried with them. The bodes lie in leaden caskets, placed in case* hewn from solid blocks of stone. THOMAS JEPPERSON. Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence, and the third President, died only a few hours before John Adams. On the 3d of July he dozed hour after hour under the influence of opiates. Rousing occa­ sionally, he fervently expressed a de­ sire to live until the day he had assisted to consecrate fifty years'before. At 11 o'clock at night ho whispered to Mr. N. P. 'l'rist, his grandchild's husband, who sat by his bed: "This is the Fourth?" Mr. Trist remained silent, being unwilling to say "Not yet!" "This is the Fourth ?" again whispered Jefferson, and when the watcher nodded: "Ah!" he sighed and sunk to sleep with an expression of satisfaction upon his countenance. His watcher thought him dying, but he lingered until 12:40 in the afternoon, occasion­ ally indicating a desire by woids or looks; "I resign my soul to God, and my daughter to my country" is a popu­ lar version of his latest utterances. On tho fly-leaf of an old account book, Jefferson wrote this: "Choose some un­ frequented vale in the park, where is no sound to break the stillness, but a brook that, babblirg, winds among the woods--no mark of human shape that has been there, unless the skeleton of some poor wreteh who sought that place out of despair to die in. Let it be among ancient and venerable oaks; intersperse some gloomy evergreens. Appropriate one-half to the use "of my family, the other to strangers, serv­ ants, &c. Let the exit look upon a small and distant part of the Blue Mountains." His wishes have been well carried out. His remains lie in a little enclosure to the right of a road leading from Charlottesville, Va, to Monticello, An obelisk nine feet high marks tire spot. JAMES MADISON. James Madison, the fourth Presi­ dent, and the last survivor of the sign­ ers of the United States Constitution, died June 28, 1836. During his last illness, when the family and Doctor were at dinner, his voice was heard feebly from the adjoining chamber: "Doctor, are you pushing about the bottles? Do your duty. Doctor, or I must cashier you." Ho is buried at Montpelier, four miles from Orange Court He,use, Va. The grave is in the center of a large field, in a lot about one hundred feet square, surrounded by a brick wall. On the gate is a sign, "Madison, 1820," Four graves are here. Over one of them rises a mound twenty feet high. A granite obelisk bears the inscription: "Madison. Born March 16, 1751." By its side is a smaller shaft of white marble, in­ scribed : "In Memory of Dolly Payne, wife of James Madison, born May 28, 1768; died July 8, 1849." i JAMES MONBOE. James Monroe, the fifth President, and the third to die on Independence Day, died July 4, 1831. He passed away in New York City, at the resi­ dence of his Bon-in-law, Samuel L. Gouvernor. His remains were depos­ ited, with public honors, in the Marble Cemetery on Second street, in New York, where they reposed until 1858, when they were removed, under the escort of the Seventh Begiment, then commanded by Col. Abram Duryea, to Hollywood Cemetery, at Iiichmond,Va., the occasion being memorable for the enthusiastic warmth with which New York's citizen soldiers were received by their southern brethren. The remains rest on a beautiful site overlooking the James River Falls above Richmond, five feet under ground, in a vault of bricks and granite. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. John Quincy Adams, the sixth Presi­ dent, and "the old man eloquent," was found by death where he could have wished its approach--in the halls of Congress. On February 21, 1843, he ascended the steps of the Capitol with the accustomed alacrity, and took his place in the House. While petitions were being presented, suddenly there was a cry of "Mr. Adams!" and a rush of members towards his seat. He was rising with a number of petitions in his hand when he was struck with apo­ plexy, and dropped down, clutching at his desk, and falling into the arms of the member who sprang across the aisle to bis assistance. He was carried into the rotunda, then into the Speaker's room. He attempted to speak, but his voice was a mere mur­ mur, low and indistinct, though Mr. Ashmun, who was placing him on the sofa, heard him .say: "This is the last of earth; I am content." He became insensible at onoe, and lingered, faintly breathing, till 10 o'clock on the morn­ ing of the 23d, when he expired. Mr. Adams' body was removed on the oar drawn by six white horses that had served for Harrison's funeral, and after lying in state in Faneuil Hall, Boston, was buried under the Unitarian Church, at Quincy, Massachusetts. ANDREW JACK8ON. Andrew Jackson, the seventh Presi­ dent, died on Sunday, June 8, 1845, at the Hermitage, his famous home. For months he had been suffering from die- ease of the lungs, dropsy, and diarrhoea. Almost to the last he was pestered by office-seekers and hero-worshippers. His last writing was a statement to help his old friend and soldier, Robert Armstrong, to a pension." On the 30th of May he gave Mr. Healy, the artist, the last sitting for the portrait de­ signed for Louis Phillipps, of France. Nightly he blessed and kissed each member of his family, bidding each a farewell as if for the last time, then offered an earnest prayer for them and for his country. His Bible was always near him. On the Friday previous to his death he gave directions concern­ ing his funeral, and dictated a letter-- his last - to the President, bidding him act promtly and resolutely in the af­ fairs of Texas and Oregon. On the morning of his death, a brilliant, hot day, he bade farewell to his family, friends, and servants, whom he ad­ dressed with calmness, strength, and even ambition, on the subject of re­ ligion, concluding: "I hope and trust to meet you all in Heaven, both white and black," words he repeated again in the afternoon as the end was com ing on. Hearing the servants on the piazza weeping, he spoke again: "What is the matter with my dear children? Have I alarmed you ? Oh, do not cry! Be good children, and we will meet in Heaven," At 6 o'clock he died without a struggle or a pang. His funeral was attended by 3,000 people on the Tues­ day following. He is buried at the Hermitage, on the Lebanon Pike, eleven miles from Nashville, Tennessee. A massive monument of Tennessee granite marks his grave, and that of his wife he had loved so well. MARTIN VAN BUREN. Martin Van Buren, the eighth Presi­ dent, died at Kinderhook, Columbia County, New York, on July 24, 1862, of asthma, which developed into a painful AilAldlfll <61 ihft •nv^piahp«jw "wpfpfp -- - * -•--; lungs. One of his last distinct utter­ ances was to his clergyman:--"There is but one reliance." He is buried in the little village cemetery at Kinderhook, in the family lot. A granite shaft fifs teen'Yrat high marks his grave. / ^JNLLTAM HENRY HARIUSOSF, WTilliam Henry Harrison, the nftrth President, died in Washington City, .April 4, 1811. He rode on horseback to his inauguration, and stood bare­ headed, and without an overcoat, to deliver his inaugural, contracting pneu­ monia, which was aggravated by subse­ quent imprudences. His last words heard by Dr. Washington were: "Sir, I wish you to understand the true prin­ ciple i of the government. I wish them carried out. I ask nothing more." A precession two miles in length escorted the body, which was conveyed on a funeral car drawn by six white horses, to its temporary resting place in the Congressional burying ground, where the Episcopal service was read by Dr. Hawley. His present resting place is at North.Bend, Ohio, a few yard from the track of the Illinois Central Rail­ road, where it enters the tunnel. The grave is a simple mound, unfenced, on a little knoll, and is shaded by beeches and other trees. There is no monu­ ment, and no inscription anywhere to tell the ttory of the life of the* departed hero of Tippecanoe. The condition of his grave was brought prominently be­ fore the country a few years ago. Since then the mound has been ce­ mented on the top, in imitation of Btone Blabs, and otherwise improved. JOHN TYLKR. John Tyler, the tenth President, was taken ill on Sundav, January 12, 1862, ^while at breakfast at the Hallard House, Richmond, Virginia, and died at midnight of the 15thf "Let me give you some stimulent," said his doctor. "I will not have it," replied the dying man, and closing his eyes he quietly passed away. His body lay in state at the Capitol. He was a member of the Confederate Congress, and was in­ terred at Hollywood Cemetery, on the 21st, by Bishop Johns. His grave is a little mound covered with bushes, about ten yards from the grave of Monroe. The last time the writer saw it, it was neither enclosed nor curbed. At its head was a small magnolia tree, on the south another magnolia, and on the north a young juniper tree. Near by are the graves of President Monroe, William Allen, one of Jefferson Davis' bondsmen, Dr. Lawrence Roane Warren, the philanthropist, James M. Mason, the Confederate onvoy to England, a son of Jefferson Davis, and Liet. Gen. A. P. Hill, of the Con­ federate army. JAMES K. POLK. James K. Polk, the eleventh Presi­ dent, died at Nashville, Tennessee, June 15, 1849, three months after his retirement from the Presidency. He had suffered from diarrhoea on the journey home, and a recurring attack proved fatal. On his deat"h-bod he re­ ceived the rite of baptism at the hands of a Methodist clergyman. He is buried at the old family homestead at Nash­ ville, Tennessee. The monument is a block twelve feet square by twelve in height OEN. ZACHAKY TAYLOR. Gen. Zachary Taylor, the twelfth President, attended the Fourth of July ceremonial in Washington City, in 1850, when the dust from Kosciusko's tomb was deposited in the Washington mon­ ument, and endured for several hours the heat of the day, which, he declared, was worse than any he had experienced in Mexico or Florida. Going home, he insisted on eating freely of unripe cher­ ries and drinking cold water and iced milk, despite the remonstrances of his servant. This brought on an attack of cholera morbus, followed by typhoid, of which he died on the 9th. An im­ posing procession accompanied his re­ mains to the Congregational Cemetery, the Episcopal services having been pre­ viously read in the East Room of the President's mansion by Dr. Butler and Dr. Payne. His remains have been moved three times, and now repose in a public spot in Frankford, Ky. After the burial in the Congressional Ceme­ tery at Washington the body was re­ moved to a lot on tho Taylor homestead, five miles back of Louisville, and then taken to Cave Hill Cemetery, Louis­ ville. In 1878 the remains were placed in the beautiful cemetery at Frankford, where they are in the company of many illustrious dead, including Vioe Presi­ dent Richard Mentor Johnson. MILLARD FILLMORE. • Millard Fillmore the thirteenth Pres­ ident, died at Buffalo, New York, on March 8, 1874, and after lying in state in St. Paul's Cathedral, the remains were buried on the 12th, at Forest Lawn Cemetery, three miles from Buffalo. A tall monumont bears the inscription "Millard Fillmore. Born January 7, 1800; died March 8, 1874." The grave is at the eastern extremity of the Tot in the oenter of a grassy space. FRANKLIN PIERCE. Franklin Pierce, the fourteenth President, died on Friday, October 8, 1869, at the residence of Mr. Willard Williams, Concord, New Hampshire, of dropsy and inflammation of the stomach. For the last three days of his life he was nearly unconscious, and died with­ out pain. His body lay in state at Dorie Hall, and was buried in the Minot Cemetery, on Main Street, on the 11th. The Pierce lot is at the northwestern corner of the old cemetery, and con­ tains nearly an acre of ground. It is surrounded by a neat iron fence six feet high. The monument is of Italian marble, surmounted by a draped cross, and its total height is fourteen feet eight inches. JAMES BUCHANAN. James Buchanan, the fifteenth Pre­ sident, died at Wheafland, near Lan­ caster, Pa, on June 8, 1868, after an illness of one month, though he had been failing for nearly a year. His last hours were very peaceful and nearly painless. On the night before his death he gave detailed directions for his funeral and the erection of his mon­ ument, dictating the inscription, a blank to the left for the date of death, "which cannot be distant," he said. In the morning he asked for a drink of water from the spring, saying to the medical attendant, "Doctor, if disem­ bodied spirits ever come back, I believe that mine will be found about that spring." His last authentic words, as he sank into the sleep in which he died were: "Oh, Lord God Almighty, as Thou wilt." His funeral took place on the 4th, the exercises being conducted by Dr. Nevin, President of Franklin and Marshall Colleges, an immense concourse being present. He is buried 1865. Nina of the persons supposed to be implicated suffered ooltdiga pan- s ishment. The funeral honors paid to y '*'$ the deceased Chief Magistrate were of ' ^ the most elaborate character. His re- " ^ mains are buried at Oak liidqo Ceme-1 - try, Springfield, Illinois. A fine pile of- , marble, granite, and bronze marks the". spot It bears the single word "Lin- ; c coin." ANDREW JOHNSON. Andrew Johnson, the seventeenth President, died suddenly at Greenville, f | Tennessee, on Saturday, July 31. 1875, and was buried with Masonic cere mo- nies on the I'd of August. His grave I is at Greenville, Tennessee, on the j spot selected by himself. The monu­ ment is of marble, upon a base of gran- % ite, nine and a half by seven feet. The tomb was erected by the President's thred surviving sons. JAMES A. GARFIELD. James A. Garfield, the twentieth^ President, was assassinated in the Bal­ timore and Potomac Railroad depot, in ! Washington City, July 2, 1881, by Charles Guiteau, and died of his wound September 19, at Elberon, near Long' Branch, New Jersey. During his ill­ ness a popular movement was inaugu­ rated to raise a fund of $250,000, to be invested for Mrs. Garfield and the children. The sum was rapidly raised while the President lived, and after his death additional contributions swelled the amount to over $305,000. On the 21st of September the President's re­ mains were conveyed from the Frank- lyn Cottage,where he died, to Wash­ ington. Every city in the Union was draped in mourning. The body was laid in state in the Capitol. Funeral services took place there oh Friday, Sept. 23, and the remains were then transferred to Cleveland, Ohio, where they were entombed September 26. ter, on the banks of the Conestoga. The lot is inclosed by a neat iron fence. All round the fence is a hedge of blooming roses, and rose bushes are planted in the inclosure. A fine sarcophagus of Italian marble marks the grave. ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Abraham Lincoln, the sixteenth President, died by the hands of John Booth* in Washington, April 15, A Wife's Device for a Smoking Room. In the way of luxurious living I know of nothing more nearly unique than the smoking room in a certain Fifth Avenue residence. The mistress of tho house has a dislike for tobacco smoke, and her nose seems to be acutely sensitive to it. Her husband could not, in their former domicile, whiff his cigar so remotely from her bondoir that the fume would not distress her. Therefore he stipu­ lated with the architect of the present abode that there should be a smoking room to suit the peculiar requirements. The apartment is entered by a long passage, provided with three doors at intervals, so that in opening one the others prevent the escape of a particle of smoke. There are no windows, the light entering from above, and a system of ventilation carries the odor into the chimney. The wood-work is all ebony, including the ceiling and a heavy wainscoting, and the black furniture is upholstered in the same somber color. In order to augment the illumination from that skylight, a mirror of heavy beveled plate makes a continuous glass frieze around the walls at the height of five feet, the line being broken only by the door. Under the glass is an orna­ mental shelf, on which are pipe trays, tobacco pots and other utensils for smoking, drinking, and reading. Ages hence, when New York is dug out from the coverings of some Pompeiian dis­ aster, puzzling apartments will be dis­ covered. Fashionable minds are now full of a desire for novelty in the con­ struction of their homes.--New York Letter. Wants the Decalogue Amende). Rev. Dr. Schaff tells about a man who came to him for curious informa­ tion. The doctor is one of the revisers of the Bible. "Friend Schaff," he said, "I want you to tell me something about the re­ vision." / "But we're pledged to secrecy, you know," replied the Doctor. "Well, then, I'll be satisfied if you'll indicate whether there are to be any fundamental amendments of the ten commandments. I hope I am an earn­ est, conscientious Christian, and I am involved in a matter where my conduct ought to be controlled by the com­ mandment which in the King James version forbids us to bear false witness agaitfst our neighbor. My action can't be delayed, and I thought if there'd be&n any recasting of the command­ ment pertaining to that sort of thing1 I'd like to know it right off." The Woodchucks' Foster Mother* A man living near Middletown, New York, has a noted woodchuck dog. She gave birth to five puppies. They were subsequently taken away from her. She disappeared the next day, and was gone several hours. When she returned she gave evidence of having been engaged in a desperate struggle of some kind. The fact that she brought back with her five little baby woodchucks leaves no doubt that she had dug out a wood- chuck's nest, killed the old ones, and brought back to her kennel their off­ spring to replace her own missing pup­ pies. The dog is giving her entire at­ tention to the young woodchucks, and treats them just as she would her own' young. The woodchucks seem to be happy and contented with their change in domicile and guardianship. Royal Salaries. The total yearly charges of the British royal family and immediate re­ latives are as follows: The Queen, $3,096,915; Prince of WTales, $803,335; Duke of Edinburgh, $122,880; Duke of Connaught, $145,000; Princess Royal ofjGermany, $40,200; Princess Helene, $30,000; Princess Louise, $30,000; Duchess of Albany, widow of Princ© Leopold, $3,000 ;Duchess of Cambridge, $30,000; Princess Augusta, $15,400; Duke of Cambridge, $111,015; Princess Mary (Duchess of Teck), $3,400. Total, $4,268,145. Ancient Sapphire Engraving. Tlje ancients have left as souvenirs of their skill some wonderfully beautiful engraved sapphires. One represents a woman's figure enveloped in drapery. The stone is one of two tints, and the artist skillfully used the dark tint for the woman anil the light for the dra­ pery. This gem is among the crown jewels of Russia. The Strozzi Cabinet at Rome contains an intaglio represent­ ing the profile of a young Hercules by Cweins, and the Cabinet of France is an intaglio profile of the Emperor's Pertinax. "WHAT do you suppose I'll look like when I get out of this?" indignantly inquired a fashionably-dressed young lady of a guard of an overcrowded tramway car the other day. "A good "* said tho deal like crushed sugar, miss, at~Woodward Hill Cemetery, LanTHn^Ltiekef-puncher. And the ladv stood up ~:'k0:rVz:: and rode some distance further, with the smile of an angel. A HORSE-DEALER was asked if an an­ imal which he offered for sale was timid. "Not at all," said he; "he often passes many nights by himself in the stable." _______ WHEN the heart is f l̂l the lips are silent. When a man is full ii is differ­ ent. \ -V •• •: v~. s '