NOVBIN TO*.CM* I.* Moonlight evening*--shady grove-- , 5. Two young people much in love; ^ ,:I, Heroine with great wealth endowed, IP* vm Hero handsome, poor and proud. Truth eternal--heart* united- Vows of changeless® passion plighted; Kiewes--quarrels---sighs --caresses, Maiden yields one of her treMWi| Obstacles to be surmounted, Happy hours pass by uncounted i Ugly rival. old and atale, Overheat* tt»e tender tele. • -«!'» ! TOL. KaMtat la the ««rt looks Scone, young lady's father's Hero, with hat in hand, Comes, her ditto to demand; Angry parent storm* -abuse*. a: M i at once consent refuses. Maiden faints beneath the bl<MM» ! ,t Moth«r intercedes- no go; _ ShriekB--hynerics--piOTMiatoang, <**•• ""n Mixed with old man e execrations, Exit lover midst the din-- * f, n: I >1 Ugly rival enters in. •OL. in. mote, t Of W**-* auaalifht night mot i SCMC--onwaae the laflyV doo*; ' Lover, with half broken betel, Swears he'd rather die than |iart. .'('< Garden---flowers---'urnbrageoiia iliito- Manly accents--serenade. ; Chamber window opens wide-- •; 'Debut of expectant bride; Little dog most kindly mute-- . • ToMft^~1!T>pe-l^"S«ieF -- flight--pursuit-- Gallant steed--too late--night's screen-- . , Triumph--marriage--Gretna Green, Old man's rage--disowns forever-- tJgly rival--scarlet fevtr. i •' t ; * * m rr Old man sickly--sends for child- All forgiven--reconciled. » ; • Young man malting money fast-- : Old man's blessing dies at last-- Youthful couple prove probate-- ;!! O-e.i the money--live in state-- . Family mansion--jewels -- plat®. t Mother's wishes crowned with joy, Doctor--nurses--little boy; Time proceeds--her ties endure -- Olive branches year by year. Blessings on the good attend-- Oecsral gladness--moral end. AH AMERICAN SINGER. . BarftragglM and Triumphs--The UJfe and V i Adventures or Emma Abbott. 1' In 1854, a poor music teacher, with a •ad face, sat in the Peoria, 111., depot - iVaonsoling a sick wife and a group of restless children. The father, hoping to better his condition, had left the busy of Chicago and brought his little Hook of helpless children with him. Among the children was a little, bright four-year old girl. They called her Em- • The little thing, surrounded by poverty, sang and hummed and prat- ,1M, for, like her father, she was fond of « music. Hie poor music teacher moved into a little wooden house on the hill, and, after a while, Providence put "u enough pupils in his way to keep pover ty from his door. At night Mr. Abbott came home tired and discouraged, but the warblings and happy chatter of lit- 'ffleEmma cheered him up. From her earliest infancy the little child had taken ' intense delight in music. A song or an organ in the street would draw the little tiling hungry from the table. A touch <(, on a guitar would set her in ecstasy. At the age of six little Emma had dreams of flinging in public. At six she was con- v i atantly singing about the house, catching every tune she heard her father play, and at nine, to the surprise of «very body,'she began to play the guitar herself. She became so proficient with the guitar, and created so much talk among the neighbors, that her father ^thought he would better his circum stances by bringing her out with her lit- .11 jtia brother George in a concert in Pe oria. The night came. The little tiling, not much taller than her guitar, "*j mused and delighted the audience. Her *' debut was so successful that her father -jeaolved to take her on a conceit tour. This he did, and the child singer ap- " geared hundreds of times before de- Jwfcted country audiences before she was thirteen years old. At the age of thir teen little Emma was invited to visit aome school friends at Mount Pulaski, n Sot a great way from Peoria. While rr there, knowing the poverty of her father and wishing to surprise him with money earned entirely by herself, she resolved • a 4o get up a concert " on her own hook." i >• Afihe went to the Pulaski printing office •1!' it short dresses, got trusted for her • om handbills,, and then went and . .ported them around town herself. On one <sf these handbills now before me is ••^printed: r" Miss Abbott will fling "The Merry ^. Swiss Gkl,w a chorus! fv. ^ ®he little girl didn't know what a ^ «auuru3 meuiii, bat it looked nice, and se i she had it put on the bill. She drew < quite a house; took $10, and took $7 lioiB-3 to her mother. Her father now \beooming sick and discouraged, little Emma went down to Lincoln, sang in a jHhool house, and then came home to fc apve pitat lessons at twenty cents per " lesson 4© pay her own tuition in a select * w&iodL At fifteen little Emma secured " & class of twenty poor children,, who , to recite at her mother's house. On Sundays she sang in the Hebrew synagogue--a kind old rabbi, Marx Moses, teaching her to pronounce in Hebrew and German. The spring of her sixteenth birthday >: - ^Eotmd Emma's father poorer than ever v, before, and the little woman, to. help her mother, tried to secure * clerkship in a store, but failed. *6he saw her father sick dis couraged, her mother sick, and broth- '•! 4BB and sisters hungry. In the midst of <' i iter great distress she heard of a school %•' nine miles from Peoria which needed a teacher. Thither she went on foot " -through the mud and slush. She found ? the principal trustee, a kind old man, at dinner, " What do ycu want, my little wo man ?" asked the old farmer, as he laid ' down his knife and fork to survey our jittle heroine. "**I live in Peoria, sir, and Tve *&ked --" "WWI walked,child? w-a-l-k-e-d!" Jjafterrupted tbe old man in astonish ment. •* Yes, air; and I want to teach your tdfeooL" «Well, I declare! But, my child, there are fifteen applications in ahead of jours." ! ** But I don't thiwlr that any of them seed it as bad as I do/' said Emma. • « jjo, and von are the smartest-lookin' one in the whole lot, and as plucky as Jfnlina CfflMr. Have you got your cer- tiflloate *'• No, sir," faltered F.mma. *c Well, my girl, if you've walked nine ~ through this mud and slush you'll do to teach school for me. Sit up and ihave some dinner!" began the school the next week, W j M */«! •t * , ' ! won the respect of the parents and the love of the children, and in four months took $40 back to her mother in Peoria. After school closed, Emma, assisted by her father, gave her first large concert in Peoria. Quite a number of amateurs assisted her, Rouse hall was filled, the people cheered, and her poor father and mote reoeived $100. This was all used by her father and mother, except $3. With this amount in her hand, she left her father sick at home and started for Rock Island, to visit a young lady friend who thought she might get up a concert in Rook Island. She found her young lady Mend absent and her money dwin dled to twenty cents. " What shall I dot" she said to her self, almost disheartened. Then a new thought seized her. She remembered k««. /-iU1%.0*A amaa fon/v^f mncnV m ft UOfc iavuvi unu vjuw vmu^mw ---- -- family of the name of Deer, who lived over the Mississippi river in Moline. "Mr. Deer will surely help me," she said, "and I will get up a concert there." Ten cents took Emma to Moline, but Mr. Deer was absent. Mrs. Deer, a crotchety-faced old woman, was very cross. She looked insinuatingly at TCrnma, and said: "I don't know what a pretty young woman like you wants of my husband. I guess he hain't got no time to fool away getting up concerts." Just then Miss Abbott spied the piano, and asked if she might play something. In a moment she was warbli ng a sweet song. The old woman listened, then dropped her dishes, wiped her hands on her apron, and came and looked over her glasses in sistonishment. Just then Mr. Deer entered. "By Jove, Matilda, that's nice singin'," he exclaimed. " Who's doin* it ?" " My name is Emma--Emma Abbott, sir. Father used to teach " "Thunder, yes! I remember Mr. Abbott; but what are you doin' here? What " "Well, pa and ma are very poor now, and I've come here to see if you'd help me get up a concert." "Help you? Why, of course I will. You shall have our church. You're a brave girl, and we'll get you up a big house." And she did have it She got her bills printed, went around* personally and announced the concert in the schools, and the house was crowded. The next night Miss Abbott sang again, and at the end of a week she re turned to Peoria with $60 in cash. When she showed her money, her astonished mother held up her hands, and, with joy and sadness pin strange combination, exclaimed: " Oh, Emma, I hope you haven't been robbing somebody?" Little Emma was now past sixteen years old. She saw her father and mother getting poorer every day. She knew she had talents, but she had no one to bring them out. Her father was too feeble to help her. So she started on a concert tour through Illinois-- all alone, accompanied by her faithful guitar. Arriving in a town she would announce her concert in the schools, sometimes with poor success, sometimes successfully; but she was always hope ful. She always sent home all the money she did not need to use. At Joliet a Chicago opera troupe came up behind her, saw her bills and heard such praises from the people that they en gaged her to sing with them for seventy- five nights through Illinois, Indiana and Michigan, where the troupe broke up and left her out of money. The next town was Grand Haven. Out of money and 200 miles from home, she determined to give one more concert alone and raise money enough to take her home. Poor, friendless and dis- couraged, it was to be her last effort. The audience came late, and among them was a kind-kearted railroad man, who listened with enthusiasm. " My child, you have the voioe of an angel! he said. " You must go to New York." "But I have no money." " Well, I will give you a pass to De troit. From there you can sing through Canada to the Falls, and some way get to New York. Trust in Providence, and go and see Parepa. She is in, New York. She'll help you." With thanks for the advice, and san guine with hope, little F.mma landed the next day in Detroit, and then civessed over to Canada. Contrary to her san guine expectations, she found Canada a poor place for her. She stopped at sev eral towns, but hard luck stared at her everywhere. Many times she walked, hungry, from place co place, and once, to raise money, she cut off her hair and sold it. Music was her love, and she forgot every discomfort in the midat of of her beautiful songs. Once she froze her feet and sang while they ached with the intense pais which follows. The applause of the audience overcame hunger, sorrow and even the pains of frozen feet. Her one intense desire was to get to New York and see Parepa. On slie was wafted toward the big city. At Lyons, in Wayne county, her money gave out, and she stopped to sing in a school house. All day long she went without food. She actually sang when faint and huugry. With the proceeds she bought a good supper, and continued on her way to New York. After two weeks of singing and hoping and struggling, Miss Abbott finally ar rived in New York, alone and in the night, putting up at the Washington house. The next night she paid her last money for a ticket to the opera ; but, to her great disappointment, Parepa did not sing. She finally heard Parepa at Steinway hall, but never succeeded in meeting her face to face. ' Failing to interest any one in her voice in New York, and solicitous for the wel fare of her father and mother. Miss Ab bott resolved to return to the West. What could she do? She was out of money, with no friend, except her sweet, bird-like voice. Many a time this voice hail been her salvation before. It had opened stony hearts. So, borrowing $15 from a lady in the hotel, our little wan derer started for the West. Her money took her to Monroe, Mich., where she hazarded everything in advertising three concerts. The nights were stormy,, and Bhe lost all her money. She could not pay her hotel bill, and the unfeeling landlord held on to her guitar. With tears in her eyes she left it, and went on to the next town, where sue sang in an ice cream saloon, making money enough to go back and redeem her guitar. This was one of the most dismal episodes in i Miss Abbott's iiie. Bo discouraged was she that when a theatrical troupe came along she was glad to join it for seventy nights, to sing in Iowa, Kansas, and even out among the Nebraska Indians, sending the proceeds to her mother. Ambitious of snooess she now tried, with poor luck, three concerts alone in Milwaukee and Chicago. The people had never heard of her wonderful voice, and they would not oome out to hear one young lady sing. " Her ill success in Chicago and Mil waukee induced her to try the provin cial towns again, so little Emma started for Plymouth, Ind., where she adver tised to sing in the parlors of the United States hotel. The audience was gmall, and she had to pawn, her guitar for $2.50 to pay her hotel bill. She also pawned her concert dress, the only* nice dress •hp Virt.1 tA mot, manoTT annnnli i. ""v O-- --ww (JU WJ Fort Wayne, Ind., a few miles beyond, where she advertised for another concert. The concert was in the parlor of the Evelin House, and having no guitar, she engaged the clerk in the music store to play her accompaniments. The few who came were delighted, and her receipts were $18. With this she went back to Plymouth, redeemed her guitar and dress, and sent $5 to her mother. With bad luck all around her, and the future almost hopeless, Miss Abbott now almost gave up in despair. Then the thought that her poor mother and sisters depended upon her impelled her to make one more effort. " I will go to Toledo," die said, "and make one more effort and trust in Provi dence for the rest." * Arriving at Toledo, she advertised to sing in the parlor of the Oliver house. Fate was against her. "The small audi ence, though enthusiastic, did not pay expenses, but the chivalrous landlord refused to take her guitar. " No, sir I" said he, forgetting that he was addressing a young lady, " George Brown ain't going to take no young lady's guitar--and mor'n that, you can stay and try it again!' Things now looked fllamal enough. Her splendid courage began to give out. Behind her she saw nothing but a three years' straggle with poverty. The fu ture looked as black as midnight. The kindness of George Brown brought tears to her eyes, but after it came the dread ful thought of--suicide. .The idea of fail ure in the scheme of her life was dread ful. That day little Emma went, with a bursting heart and looked off the great Toledo pier, and the thought of jumping off struggled in her bosom. Sadly she turned away. Howe was gone, but she thought of her mother, and love for her still buoyed her up. Returning to the Oliver house, she caught a glimpse of Clara Louise Kel logg, then in the zenith of her fame, but in a moment she was gone. She disap peared, with a piece of music, in the Oliver house, "following after, little Emma encountered Miss Kellogg's maid. " Oh, I do want to see Miss Kellogg so much!" she exclaimed to Petrilla. " Oh, can't I see her?" 5: She's just gone in to dinner with her mother, but she will be out in a mo ment," answered Miss Kellogg's maid. In a few minutes Miss Kellogg came out with her mother. " I'm Miss Abbott," said little Emma, half frightened, "and I do wish to see you so much I" " Never mind, come in. What can I do for you!" asked the kind-hearted Mi«« Kellogg. "I want you to try my voioe. 1 do think I can sing, and if von only say so I shall be sure, said little Emma, look ing up pleadingly with her clear blue eyes " Why, certainly, my child," said Miss Kellogg's mother, who got up and opened the piano, but seeing little Emma's shabby dress and wild, sad look, she held up her hands and exclaimed: " Why, Louise, where has this poor child been wandering?" In a moment Miss. Abbott was singing one of her beautiful ballads, full of na tive sweetness and pathos. As her mag ical voice touched those high, clear notes which have since astonished the Mugs and princes of Europe, Miss Kellogg's mother sat in mute wonder. The ears of the good mother of the great singer seemed to feast on the clear, sweet strains ; then she burst out enthusiastic ally : "Louise I Louise? Do you hear that voice--how clear--no break there! That's the Voice for me!" That night Mis Kellogg kmlly gave Miss Abbott a letter to Errani, a singing teacher in New York, and money enough to pursue her studies for for two years. With tears in her eyes, little Emma thanked her benefactor--the singing an gel sent by the Lord to lead her out of captivity. Then she came to New York. A home at Dr. Elder's, two years with Errani, and an engagement to sing in Dr. Chapin's Fifth Avenue church at §1,598 a year quickly followed. Sunday after Sunday that great congregation was melted by Miss Abbott's magic voice. Triumph after triumph came, but still beyond she hoped for more. She longed for fame--for recognition. One day (March 1, 1872) a rich busi ness man, whose heart was bigger than his pocket-book--Mr. John T. Daly, who afterward built the Windsor hotel-- sat down in his office and wrote a little note to Miss Abbott It was short, but it was worthy of Mr. Daly, who was al ways doing princely things, and it filled her heart with a flood of joy. Mr. Daly told her how he admired her talent and respected her pluck, and that if she wished to go to Milan and study he would furnish her the money. " 1 want to go," said Miss Abbott, when the writer talked with her, her eyes all the time beaming with grati tude. " It is the hope of my life, but I do not wish to receive so much from one person. If the whole congregation will interest themselves in me how gladly I will go." " well," said & leading member, Mrs. George Lake, on the morning of March 20, "I will give $1,000 toward it. ' Then Mrs. George Hoffman gave $500, Mr. C. P. Huntington $500, Mr. John Q. Hoyt $500, Mr. E. L. Aft Wetherell $500, Mr. A. J. Johnson $200, some others $100 each, and Mr. Daly made up the rest, all payable to order of Mr. D. D. T. On Saturday morning, May 20, 1772, a great crowd of friends with bouquets and benedictions thronged the city of Paris to bid God speed to Miss A. Abbott on her journey across the At lantic to Milan. , On Miss Abbott's arrival In Milan, Lamperti pronounced her voice a mnrvel. Nara, to whom Stanley recommended her, after hearing her sing from " Mig- non," said, " You must quit the music of Ambroise Thomas and take the grand scores of the roasters." San Giovanni finally became Mi«i Ab bott's teacher. Losing her health, she took a trip to the Mediterannean and back to Paris, where one day she was invited to the palace of the Rothschilds by tlie baroness, who was so enraptured by her sweet voice that she embraced her and became her bosom friend. The venerable fiolandi, the favorite instruc tor of Malibran, offered to instruct Miss Abbott in Paris, but Delle Sedie, to whom Nilsson recommended her, finally became her teacher. When he heard her sing he exclaimed, "Mademoiselle, you will yet have the world at your feet," and 'Wsrtel, the distiygiiishiAd Fr«noh teacher, said, " When she is finished she will be without a rival in the world." Madame La Grange said : "My child, you are very like Jenny Lind. Your voice is pure, limpid, powerful, sweet, charmante--char man te! ' Then all Paris became wild about the wandering child from Peoria. Adalina Patti invited her to her villa, and when she sang an aria Patti foldtd her in her arms snd said ; "Ilove you becausc you love your art, and I see you will become great." Then Miss Abbott's fame went beyond Paris--to London and St. Petersburg. When Franchi, the renowned impressa- rio of St. Petersburgh, heard her sing with Patti he offered her a big price to goto Russia, and Patti said: "Come, my child, with me, and I will be in a box to applaud your debut and throw you your first bouquet." But she chose to stay and study with Wartel in Paris. One day Wartel interrupted her singing by exclaiming: " C'est magnifique! You sing like an angel, little one. You will be the glory of America!" A few days ago I picked up the Sun and read this cable dispatch, Mr. Gye, the renowned Covent Garden impressa- rio, having introduced our sweet Peoria warbler to the most critical court audi ence of England: " Miss Emma Abbott made a very suc cessful debut as Daughter of the Regi ment at Covent Garden to-night. Though her acting leaves something to be de sired, she possesses a voice of great power and purity, and is almost perfect m her rendering of the character. She was twice recalled after the first act." And when the big-hearted Christians in New York read this paragraph--they who, remembering our Savior, put their arms around this toiling woman and helped her up--when they read of her final triumph they said, " Verily, it is more blessed to give than to receive," and all the world responded, " Of such is the kingdom of heaven!" And when little Emma shall one day stand in our Academy of Music, like Nilsson and Titiens and Lucca, her sil ver voice filling the air like a choir of angels, or hushing the audience by a holy repose, then the Church of the Di vine Paternity will strew the first bou quets at the feet of her who, loving both the church and the drama, improves all the gifts which God has given her. Naval Engagement on the Ohio--Two Men Killed. Our community was shocked, last evening, at the intelligence of the kill ing of Maj. A. J. Harrington, Deputy United States Marshal, of this city, at Maysville, yesterday afternoon. Maj. Harrington, on Friday last, reoeived in structions from the clerk of the United States court at Louisville, directing him to seize the towboat Kate Dickson, on account of some suit brought against her in that city, process in pursuance of which she was attempting to evade. When these instructions were received the boat was lying at the Cincinnati wharf, and outside the jurisdiction of the Kentucky Federal court. She re mained there until about daylight yes terday morning, Maj. Harrington in the meanwhille keeping close watch on her movements, when she departed up the river. Maj. Harrington, who had chartered the steamer Champion No. 8 for the purpose, immediately started in pursuit, with Michael Fitzpatrick and one or two otlicio of this city, whose names we are unable to ascertain, as a posse to aid, if necessary, the enforcement of the pro cess. It would appear that the towboat was overtaken at Maysville. The Champion went up alongside the Kate Dickson, while the latter was tying up at a wharf. Maj. Harrington, on tfce Champion, was brought face to face with Taylor's son, on the Dickson. Young Taylor asked, "Who are you; what do you want, anyway?" Harring ton answered, "I am a United Skates Marshal, from Covington. My name is Harrington. I have come up to take this boat, and arrest Gapt. Taylor. Where is thejCaptain ?" Young Taylor made some reply, b t at that instant Harrington caught sight of Capt. Taylor, who was at his state room window looking down at him, and in the act of aiming at him a shot-gun double-barrel, some reports say. With out a word Taylor fired at Harrington a load of buck-shot, which penetrated his left side, some of them entering hia heart. Harrington fell back into the arms of one of his men, and died almost instantly. Taylor immediately appeared at the guards with a revolver. Four shots were fired at him instantly, one of which passed through his heart, it is supposed, for his death was as instanta neous as Harrington's.--Cincinnati Commercial. Silver Drums. A pair of silver kettledrums has just been presented to the Fifth Lancers (British) regiment These drums, the labor of five months, are intended to re place the silver drums of the regiment destroyed in the fire at the Tower of London. Thejr are hammered out of sheet silver, and are 960 ounces weight, with mountings of the pure metal. Silver drums are not destined merely for show, for it is well known that the tone produced is both sweet and sonorous. Four other cavalry regi ments possess silver kettledrums, First and Second Lifeguards, the Royal Horse-guards (blue), and the Third Hus sars; the first three regiments receive them as a gift from royalty, and one of them, belonging to tlie Third Hussars, was won in fair fight at the battle of Det- tingen, wherci it was captured by a trum peter in face of the enemy. A Historical Quarrel. One of the most amusing of the Con gressional squabbles was between two gentlemen who were never excited by strong drink--Jefferson Davis and Hen ry 8. Foote. They irere sitting in a room together at Willard's, in 1848, and got into a discussion over a letter writ ten by Gen. Taylor, then a candidate for the Presidency. One word brought on another, and soon the two "grave and reverend " Senators were striking from the shoulder at each other. The noise of the encounter brought neighboring inmates of the hotel into the room, and the combatants were separated, and, after some entreaty, shook hands and made friends. " Really," said Mr. Foote, "I should not have thought of such a thing as strik ing Mr. Davis if he had not passed the first blow." * "Are you not mistaken about that?" urged Mr. Davis, apologetically. " Indeed, I am not!'" retorted the im petuous Mr. Foote. "It is my impression you struck first," pleaded Mr. Davia. " Oh, no! It was you I" ' No; it was you! " But, Mr. Davis, 111 swear it was you." " And I, Mr. Foote, would swebr it wasn't." " You did strike first*' " I did not strike first" "You did!" "I didn't!" - " You did, I say I" "I say I didn't!" "Well!" exclaimed Mr. Foote,"there shan't be any dispute as to who struck first this time"--and as he spoke he dealt Mr. Davis a stinging blow on the cheek. The astonished friends sprang between the two gentlemen and pre vented further hostilities. Pledges were exacted from all present to deny that there had been any " unpleasantness but I have the above from good South ern authority, as the commencement of a feud not yet settled.-- Washington Chronicle. ^ " Dead or Alive.** They seem remarkably particular about the payment of rewards for the capture of banditti "dead or alive" in Califor nia. Rewards of that sort were offered for the capture of Chevez, one of Vas- quez' band of highwaymen. Se was pursued from one of the southern coun ties of California into Arizona, where a few days since he was shot by a party of men who had undertaken the job of cap turing Chevez dead or alive. To avoid lawyers' quibbles and delays of all sorts in getting the reward, the captors sim ply cut off Chevez' head and put it into bottle, and with that ghastly trophy set out for Sacramento to claim tlie re ward. Arrived there, the authorities refused to pay a dollar of the reward offered until the head was identified as that of the bandit. Accordingly the claimants, carrying it with them, went to San Juan, where Chevez had once lived, and there witnesses were found who made affidavit that the decapitated head was that which had rested on his shoulders. The captors, still bearing that horrid evidence of their right to the reward, reinforced by these affidavits, thereon returned to Sacramento to find that the appropriation making the re ward had lapsed, so they couldn't get a dollar for killing their man and cutting off his head. Not in the least discour aged, however, they had the head her metically sealed up to be kept for iden tification until the next Legislature shall pass & bill appropriating money for pay ment of the reward. The story of these reward-claimants traveling about with the head of the man they killed in the hope of capturing the reward for taking him, dead or alive, is a startling com mentary on the barbarism of the laws that legalize the offer of such rewards, which are simply rewards for murder; and, as in this case, are taken advantage of only by bloodthirsty mercenaries, themselves evidently richly deserving the halter. A California Frnlt Farm. In Santa Barbara county, California, there is an immense farm of 2,000 acres, owned by Mr. Elwood Cooper. He has in prospect a small fortune from his nut- bearing and fruit trees. He has 12,500 almond-trees three years old, also 3,500 walnut-trees from one to three years old these will begin to bear in about five years. Of the olive he has 4,000 trees, and will plant out 1,000 cuttings this season. Of the domestic fruits he has a large orchard. He has a warm, shel tered nook in a canon in the foot-hills, just large enough for 1,000 lemon-trees, which will be planted the coming season. Mr. Cooper will go to Sicily this fall and procure the pure and unadulterated Sicily lemons, the best known to com merce. Of forest trees he has 60,000 of the Eucalyptus globulus and 10,000 Eu calyptus rostrata, or red gums. He has a large number of the Yarrah, a variety of the Eucalypti. This tree, unlike the others named, is of a slow growth, but a much more durable quality of timber. When the orchards of nut-bearing trees come into full bearing, 100 men will be required the year round to cultivate, gather, and prepare the fruit for market Wonders of Science. Some marvels of human ingenuity may be seen at the London Scientific Exhibition. Thus, a machine, loaned by Sir W. Armstrong, the great gun- maker, measures thickness up to the one-thousandth part of an inch, and an other, on the same principle, to the one- millionth part. The delicate balance of Mr. Oertling carries 3,000 grains, and turns distinctly with the one-thousandth part of a single grain. Among the his torical instruments is the chronometer sent by the Royal United Service Insti tution, whioh was twioe carried out by Capt. Cooke, and again by Capt. Osligh in 1787. When the crew of the Bounty mutinied, this veteran timekeeper was carried to Pitcairn's Island by the muti neers, and sold by Adams in 1808 to an American captain who touched there. He sold it in Chili, and in 1840 it was bought at Yalp&raiso by Sir Thomas Herbert, taken to China by him, and finally brought back to England in the Blenheim, ; Can. GRACK, ex-Treasurer of Colleton county, S. C., who has been accused of being largely in default, settled his ac counts recently, when it was found that there was a balance in his favor of *1. 784.96. WIDDEB GREKtrs LAST WORDS. "I'm goto' to die!" 55yi the Widder Groan, "I'm ffoin' to quit this airthly scene ; It ain't no place for me to stay W:r'* In inch a world aa tia to-day. > Bach worka and way* la too much (dt Hobody cant let nobody be; The girls Is flonnoed from top to toe, And that is the hall o' what they know. The men is mad on bonds an' stocks, Dwearin' an' shoo tin' an' pickln* locks; ftn really afraid I'll be hting -rnvself Ef I ain't laid on my final shelf. There ain't a cretur but known today I never a lunatic WM any way. But since all crmzy folks go ire© I'm dreadful afraid they'll hand up m* j There's another matter that's pasty hand-- Ican't go into a neighbor's yard 5 And say, ' How be you?' or borry a pan 1 . But what the paperll have it in 'We're pleased to pay that Widder Ones Took dinner a Tnemlay with Mrs. Keen*.' Or: ' Our worthy friend Miss Green has p"* Down to Barkhamsled to see her son.' Great JeniRal^rn » csr.'t I stir Without a-raisin'Borne feller's for? - There ain't no nrivacv. so to say, No more than if this wan the judgment Hf. An' as fur rueetin'--I want to swear Whenever I put my head in there! Why, even Old Hundred s Ipoiied and Mke every thing else under the son; It used to be so solemn and slow. Praise to the Lord from men below Now it goes like a gallopm* steer, High diddle diddle ! there and hare. No reapect to the Lord above No more'n ef He was hand and glove With all the creturs he ever mads An' all the jigs that was over played. ' Preachin', too --but here I'm dumb; But 111 tell you what! I'd like it aome JEf good eld Parsois Kfttiir.u Strong Out 8' wdulu come along An' give UB a stirrin' taste o' fire- Judgment an' justice is my desire. 'Tain't all love and Kickitnh sweet That makes this world or t'other complete.1 But, lav, ! I'm told! I'd better be dead ' When the world's a-turnin over my head! Sierite t Rife in' iike terual fools, ble kicked out o' deestrict schools, Crazy creetures a-nuirdcrin' round-- Honest folks better be under ground. So fare-ye-well! this airthly scene Won't no more be pestered by Widder Green." Pith and Point* A BUSINESS that is picking up--the rag-gatherer's. DBIED apples are becoming a fashion able dessert for swell parties. if vei7 in-jury-ous for twelve men to be locked up in a court-house. HOWEVER enraged he may be, it only takes the slightest transportation to no air a a clam calm.--Cino inn ti ti News. YOUNG Mistress--"It's your Sunday out next week Jane, isit'nOt?" Jane-- " Lor, mum ? why, you've forgotten: it's yours!" A VEGETABIAN who was dodging an infuriated bull behind a tree, ex claimed: "You ungrateful beast! you toss & vegetarian, who never ate beef in his life 1 Is that the return you make?" DIGNITY--" Did I see you turn vour nose up at me?" Impudence--" Don't know, I'm sure!" Dignity--" Did you turn it up?" Impudence--"Well, I tried, and you make me think I succeed ed!"--Fun. MRS. MAIIAPBOP writes to sympathize with poor Payson Weston on his great walking feet having come off. She doesn't wonder at it, considering the awful amount of work they have Wi, -- Punch. " I WISH I might die," sighed a mid dle-aged maiden, as she hung like a limp bolster out of the third story front win dow, on a Sunday afternoon, and espied the man whom she had once coquettish- ly rejected placidly propelling an $18 baby-cart.--Brooklyn Argus. A GENTLEMAN in this city A pair of pantaloons which were worn by one of nis ancestors a hundred years ago. They are made of home-spun cloth, except the seat, which is of thick leather. It is inferred from this that the original* owner was a book agent.--Norwich Bulletin. MABl's IiAHB. Mary had a little lamb, We've heard it o'er and o'er, Until that little lamb becomes A perfect little bore. So I propose to make a grave, And dig it deep and wide; That Mary's lamb and all Its bards Be burled side by side. A BASE-BALLIST named Miller, formerly catcher of the St. Louis club, died in Philadelphia last week. In his last mo ments he was delirious, and fancied he was at his place in the ball-field, facing his old pitcher, Bradley. His last words were : " Two out, Brad--steady, now-- he wants a high ball--steady, Brad-- there, I knew it; that settles it" MB. LANIEB speaks of "ghosts of goods once fleshed and fair." As if he had said, " Remnants of calico dresses once occupied by pretty girls." It is plain enough when you understand it. Or, stay! perhaps he referred to the striped stockings worn by the foremoth- ers. Good heavens! will some friendljr breeze fan this aching brow!--Rochester Democrat. A NEW lawn game is called " Vexillo." It has not been introduced here yet, but it is said to resemble croquet, and we presume^ the way to play it is for one young miss to make a misstroke,and then another tells her that she'eheats. and she says "I don't cheat half as much as you do," after which they both pitch the mallets over the fence go into the house, and don't speak to each other for six weeks. A CERTAIN eminent physician, being invited to a dinner party, arrived at the house of his host at a somewhat earlier hour than had been named as the dinner hour. He accordingly strolled out of the house into a church-yard which 'was hard by. When dinner was announced, the doctor was absent, and an inquiry was made as to where he was. " Oh, said one of the guests, who had seen him in the church-yard, "he is payinga visit to some of his old patients. THE other evening a carriage being driven up Maple street had to come to a dead halt to prevent running over a child three <?r four years old who was seated in the center of the street '"Is that your child i" asked the driver of a man who lounged forward and beckoned to the dust-covered offspring. " Guess he is," was the slowly spoken answer. " Aren't you afraid he'll be run over some day ?" " He may be. His brother was run over last year about this time, and the folks made up a purse of $100 for me!" Perhaps the memorv of that purse had nothing to do with tke other child being in the road.--Detroit Free Press. WHBN Mrs. David Patterson, of Green Bay, Wis., got up the other morning she found the dead body of her husband Ivmg in the pantry, with his face to the floor. He had been suffering from dfe- ease of the throat, and it is supposed that he had gone to find something to relieve his hard breathing, but lindhur nothing he was choked to d*wth_