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| - • - - - - . •:;:i- M/Si? •\'/-;t'*.j;-:•;••; .^'^^f..:':';-:^^ ?; r;^r; *•A«; v.; •.,;. -•-:•'<• ;.':".V .-. V,-'.- . ;.. ;-«?=,;/4:v:vi- y ,• V ' •';• ":,',"K: " * ! j. .•v .?..•^. -- J.' • •-•1 - ?SV:J ;-j '•••-: •r*:M-*:m' •:?• ••i'-i-iefiy-. A: :-'r ••- • - >;-t ^:.:,;- i-i'.- r.T'i VOL II. THOMPSONYILLE, CONN., DAY, AUGUST 18, 1881. SEEKING TEEASUEE, OBIBBAGE EFFORTS MADE TO GET A FORTUNE. world for you for five long years, HOUSEHOLD NOTES. vowed revenge. To-day, revenge SK?; E- 1\ PARSONS, M. D„ pHYSIC'£ AX AND SURGEON. Resi-aence and office cor. PJoasaul and School str eets, Thompsonville, Conn. J. HOMER DARLING:, iff. D., HOMTOE OPAT„H I.C Pi lHlY1 So II CU 1IAA JNN .—— Plcf'sant. St., ritonipsonville. Conn. L ATVMER PlfYin$R[NGf, PH^SICI EesideTjee and s-iCmviU.e, Conn. mmm GEORGE P. CLARK,'' ATAi\UFACrijREll of P.itpnt Ruisber Casters. Wiixlsor Lucks, Conn. A. W. CONVERSE & TRON FOUNDS#. Manu.^ X kinds of IRON CASTINGS, sor Locks, Conn, .: L )RGE GLOVER1, JR. |NrST and General Repairer. Mo\v>iu<r Machines Conn. S-&K E. 0. WILB T^ENTIST. Office on Pleasant Street, 17 second house north of Hotel, Thompsonville, Conn. JOHN HAIVLUN, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Mits. SIAII'SOX'S BUILDING, THOMPSONVILLE CONN. THE PARSONS PRINTING CO., BOOK AND JOB PRINTERS, and i'r .ers The Thompsonville #-£S'n Street, Thompsonville, Office connected by telephone. H. H. ELLIS, T )EALER in all kinds of one, two and 17 four foot Wood. Orders left at A. T. Lord's will receive prompt attention. Thompsonville, Conn. THE T. PEASE & SONS CO., \\f HOLES ALE and Retail Dealers in TT Lumber and Building Materials. Yards at Thompsonville and Windsor Locks, Conn. Steam Planing Mill at Thompsonville. Connected by telephone with Springfield, Hartford and New Haven. Press, Conn. orjc „..c tend<&$or. at- MORAIf BROTHERS, T3EEF, Pork,- Mutton, Lamb, Poultry, Tripe, Ham, £ard, etc. All kinds of Meats and Yegejiables in their season, at lowest cash pnces. SCain Street, Windsor Locks, Conn. - •• —— , L. CHANDLER, MANUFACTURER, of all kinds of ia Heavy and Light Team and Business Wfcgons, Carts, etc. Horse Shoeing and Jobbing, Mill and Machine Forging; Repairing dopS at Short tice. Windsor Locks, Conn. no- BENJAMIN BRIGHT, "REEF, Pork, Mutton, Lamb, Poultry, Tripe, Hani, Lard, &c. ' German Sausage, from the best New York makers, kept constantly on hand. A11 kinds of Meats in their season at lowest cash prices. M.qin Street, Tliompsonville. JOHN C. WEISING, TITANLEFACTURER of and Dealer in Foreign and Domestic Cigars, Plug iind Fine Cut, Chewing and Smoking Tobacco, Pipes, &c., Tliompsonville, Ct. THOMPSONYIfitE HOTEL, T> F. LORD, Proprietor. Also Pro- J-''jpnetor-of Fmnkliu Hall. Good Livery and Feed Stable connected with Hotel. Main St., Thompsonville, Conn. JOHN H. HALLIDAY, ATTORNEY" a»d Counselor at Law. XV.Stxv>.ml ut.tanf inn Estates. Collections promptly rattenaea to. Mansley's Block, Main Street, Thompsonville, Conn. JOHN COATS, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELOR AT LAW, Office over Lindsey's Drug Store, Thompsonville, (.'mm. JAMES WATSON, /^.RAIN, MEAL AND FEED for gale at reasonable prices. Custom grinding done at the usual rates. Corn sliel'cd. or ground on tl.e ear, at Watson's North mill, on the Springfield road. A full supply always on hand at Tliompsonville mills. CHAS. E. PRICE, Agt.f "TVEALER in Wood and Coal. Wood a specialty; chips lor sale. Moving •and heavy teaming done on reasonable .terms. HAIR DRESSING SALOON, "UREDERTCK SMITH, Proprietor. A choice supply of Shaving Soaps, I lair Oil, Colognes, Cosmetics, &<•., eoiistant-ly on hand. Shaving, Sliani|)i>i)in&r, HairCutting, Razor Honing, Undi-r Lord's Hotel, Thompsonville, Conn. DAVID BRAINARD, TNSURAXCE AGENT. Insures all classes of Buildings and contents \ against fire. Special attention given to insuring Houses and Barns with their contents against loss or damage bv lightning whether fire ensues or not.. Policies written on the most liberal firms, in -sound companies. Losses paid promptly and honorably. Thcaipsonvilie, Cumi. Miss Lorena H. Pease, Thompsonville, Conn. EDWIN KING, UNDERTAKER, WILL FURNISH COFFINS AND CASKETS Of all kinds, at short notice. Stein's Patent Caskets With sliding gla-s. always on hand. K/f; M: Funeral Supplies, Burial Clotliinc. f-tc . ki pt on hand and madf to order. Ice Ilox lurnisheo when necessary. Terms always reasonable. Pease's Block, Main Street, THOMPSONVILLE, CONN. JAMES & F. E. ELY, —AGENTS FOB— Jitia, Hartforfl and ftoli Insnrance Companies, of Hartford. People's, of Middletown. , I'"-. Continental, iMiM' of rforth British and Mercantile Insurance ...» Companies of London. FIKB ^BSOCIATION, OF PHILADELPHIA ^"All risks written in these Com- ^jpanies at the lowest rates. Tickets for the Cunard Line of Steamers, to and from Europe, told at lowest rates. Jtaln Street, TfcompfonTttfof Conn* ;.;4 •}. •/ *.y */. ,vv; J» H. ADAMS* T)RY GOODS, Groceries, Crockery, Hardw^e. Notions, Fruits, etc. MainSlyeet, y^indsor Locks, Conn. ' > ' PEASE BROTBEBS, TVT AJSTUFACTURERS of and dealers in t Furniture, Stoves, Tjn and Sheet Iron Wares, Crockerv. GlasS-Ware, I^ad and Cement Pipe, and HGuseFunkishin" Goods generally. Slate and Tin Roofing and General Jobbing, Windsor Locks, Conn. JOHN COTTfcS; " cAg™aasih J W. BROWNING.1' H DRUGGIST,- / JEWELER JIJYD OPTICIAN. Opposite the Ferry, Windsor Conn. Locks, CHAS J. SHORT, ARBLE AND GRANITE WORKS, Monuments, Tablets and Grave Stones. Also dealers in Marble and Slate Mantels, Grates and Summer Fronts. No. 375 1-2 Main St. Entrance north side of First Baptist church, Springfield, Mass. P J. CONNELL, and House Builder, BT All Jobbing promptly attended to. CHARTER OAK HOUSE, Five Mods South of the Depot, MAIN ST., WINDSOR LOCKS, CONN. HENRY CUTLEU, Proprietor. JOHN B. DOTTGLAS, ATTORNEY and COUNSELOR AT LAI And Notary Public. Practices in all the State and Unite/ States Courts of Connecticut. Patents and Pensions promptly obtained. Collections made anywhere in the United States. Office Opposite the Ferry, WINDS OH LOCKS CONN. F. W. BROWN, A RCHITECT and BUILDER. Build. ings raised and moved. All work done in a satisfactory manner. Boston Neck, Suffield, Conn. J. J. NOLAN, pARPENTER and BUILDER. ^ bing promptly attended to. house Point. Conn. Job- Ware* A. W. CONVERSE, FIRE INSURANCE AGENCY. RISKS procured at the Lowest Rates on the following Companies: NATIONAL, of Hartford, OKIENT, " " CONTINENTAL, " $ NOKTH BRITISH and MERCANTILE, of London and Liverpool, CONTINENTAL, of New York, FIKE ASSOCIATION, of Philadelphia. Draft and Passage Tickets Sold at satisfactory rates, AT THIS POST-OFFICE, WINDSOR LOCKS, CONN. j?RANK G. BURT, NEWS DEALER. Newspapers, Magazines and Periodicals of the various kinds for sale. Subscriptions received at the lowest ca3h rates No Sunday papers sold. Agent for THE THOMPSONVILLE PRESS. ALSO DEALER IN Stationery, Books, Nuts, Confectionery, etc. Agent for E. Reynold's Rubber Stamps. Main Street, WINDSOR LOCKS CONN. Ann A WEEK. $12 a day at home easily made. Costly !p IL Outfit fre«. Address Taos k Co., Augusta, HaiM- 1881—THE CHEAPEST—1881 Route to New York ' AND ONE OP TIIK BEST COSTING ONLY ONE DOLLAR.' ta.si.oo-e* Each way, by taking excursion tlcfce.ts). Single tickets, 91.95, each case first-class. Costs for deck passage only seventy-flve cents (70 cents) eaca way, by taking excursion tickets. Single tickets, 91, large deductions to large parties, military companies, excursionists, fcc., Ac. State Rooms, SOc.. 75c. and 91. Good Meals, SO cents. Excursion Tickets good «or sixty days. Leave Hartford Daily 4 P. M. SATURDAYS EXCEPTED. Leave New York Daily 4 P. M. SUN'DAYS EXCEPTED. AH persons aTe forbid trusting any one on accouut of these boats or the H. * N. Y. Steamboat Company. narlford, Apr.l 16th, 188t. a r *n Ann per day at home. 8ample worth »fl fren 3)3 III $uU Address STIHSOX k Co., Portland. Mnlr }CC • week In your own town. <PUVIr«9 Terms and $6 outfit Addms H. Hiuxn A Co.. PortUuid, ltelm. Si;-••• ~--k •: A' THE TOILER. "My dress not finished yet! You surely must forgot, Or else did not the least attention pay; , i The ball's to-morrow night, yet you delay. J 'So much to do!' But 1 must have my dress; I can't go like a fright, that you'll confess. (Just finish it in time and I'll pay what you choose." * * _>* # * * * # In peering through the windowed space Soft rays the lamp's dull glow replace, Till on the stretch of dreary wall The light of coming day doth fall; Rests on a girlish face, and fair, Yet one fraught with lines of care, point. woman, but rather those of an a fate. "She is his wile," she said, hter breath. "She has usurped place. She shall not hold it As Dora passed down the of surf, and became lost to sight on intervening point, Miss Alston and, putting on her hat, left the as though seized with a sudden . Passing out Of the hotel by a side she took the same direction as Allen had taken. As she passed the beach, she^ndtieed that the tid going out. U:'y When out of sight of tiie weagiy Ah, dimpled Miss Frivolity, All in thy sweet complacency, Thy pride of rustling robes and gol l And all the gifts they can unfold, ^-jr What know you of grim toil and strife, ' * The steady ebbing of a life Wrought by dread weariness of overwork? —C. S. Wtlliams. REVENGE. Poor Miss Alston! The fashionable world did not say that now so often as formerly, but those who remembered that unhappy night, years ago, when Edith Alston arrayed in her wedding robe, awaited the bridegroom, who came not, still said, "Poor Miss Alston!" :,-When Edith Alston became engaged to Herbert Allen, the same fashionable world smiled its approval. She had been a belle, and it is always a satisfactory thing for a belle to be married.: Herbert Allen, though not rich, was still considered by Miss Alston's frfeads ft desirable parti. The day for the wedding was fixed, the evening came, the company assembled. In the di awing-room the minister awaited the coming of the bride and groom; in her chamber, with beating heart, and sparkling eyes, the bride long since decked with her bridal jewels sat waiting. A messenger dispatched to his house, returned with the intelligence that Herbert Allen had, at noon, sailed for Europe. Miss Alston received the news- with impassive, though marble features, and requested to be left alone. Then, when locked securely within the privacy of her own apartments, she pressed her palms upon her temples, and, with a piteous cry, fell mseless, almost lifeless, to the floor. Almost immediately after her wedding dress jbad been laid jpdfi. Mias Als Being of age, an orphan.and possessed of a fortune in her own right, there was none to say her nay, and, accompanied only by an old and trusted servant, Miss Als-ston began a series of erratic wanderings which lasted for years. Considering her beauty and her wealth, her indepen dence, the fashionable world more than ever wondered at her lover's base desertion. On tho 24th of July, 1862, Miss Alston found herscll at Lon^ beach, a litll. watering-place on the Atlantic coast. It was near the middle of what had thus far had been a long and hot afternoon. Her eyes wore bent upon two persons standing at the farther end of the piazza, where a screen of vines partly hid them from the other boarders. The vines led a discouraged existence under the adverse influence of wind, salt, and sun, were far from thick enough to screen these persons from the eager, searching, cat-like gaze of the dark girl in the chamber above. One of these people who so engaged Miss Alston's attention, was Herbert Allen; the other a woman. All Edith Alston's wanderings, all these years of patient searching, all these weary miles of travel, had not been in vain. Their object was accomplished. She had found him. And once she had loved him. If that tashionable world of which she no longer formed a part, had not been sure of that before, it would have believed it now. No one watching her at this moment could have doubted it. Her attitude, her firmly set lips, the fierce and stealthy glint in her eyes, like the look of a tiger suddenly disappointed of its prey, all expresses a hatred that could only have been born of a great love. She had been the woman scorned, than whom "hell hath no greater fury." And the woman below: who was she? Miss Alston, still gazing fixedly through the blind, looked down upon a petite figure, a mass of hair that was full of curls arid ripples, and upon a pair of blue eyes that turned to Herbert's with a look of the utmost tenderness and confidence. "Where are you going, DoraP" "For a walk down the beach. It is so hot up in those rooms." ^ , "Shall I go with you, dear?" he asked. "Not unless you wish. - I've got a splendid novel, and I'm going to find a shady piace among the rocks somewhere, and finish it." He laughed, and bent over and kissed her. "You will hardly miss my company then?'' he said. "I'll stay here, aud take a nap in the hammock. By and by I'll come and hunt you up." There was that in his words and manner— half-indifferent, half-tender, and yet authoritative—that would scarcely bear any other interpretation than the one given it by Miss Alston. It was the manner ofa newly .married- husband to a young wife. "Raise my parasol for me," said Dora. ' That pink silk lining will make my face look red as a beet, but I can't help it." , Si . She trioped down the .steps, turning upon him, as she went, a playful, laughing glance, while Edith Alston watched her retreating figure with a face that was not pleasant to contemplate. Handsome though Miss Alston was, her feafc wes at that www* pot those of > doned an op. ing farther. The fever in her b begun to burn itself out. For ah hour, she stood tfius, less against the rock, while the sails drifted slowly across the and the tide crept farther and away. A fisherman with nets shoulder passed before her along beach. "You had better be getting home,' ' he said, "if ye live far from We shall have some wind out of cloud, and some watermay be." He pointed to a low, dark cloud, 11 a "crest like a pile of crimen snow, had appeared above the Alston raised her "Ebbtide," look off over the sea. "Wind most lers comes up With the tide. I seed a thunder-storm at low water, when the tide turns, we'll hay sure." He shifted his burden to the sWjld«|,;*«nidged on, -MMf did hot move until long after Repassed from sight. At last she a tear from "her eye angrily, and But she did not return to the hotel, went in th« direction taken bv All6nlfc , * V. "' If she was looking for her, she long to search, though she a maimer quite unexpected. slitfdte of an old wreck, and shelter ofa little cov-?, a anchored. A wall of large tected it from the beating of the yond. Though the keelock, atti_.._. its painter, was fast imbedded in sand at some distance above mark, the suction of the ebbing drawn the boat outward to the floating and rocking upon the swell. In the stern was Dora last asleep, her face shaded by he: sol, h31* book fallen from her ham ^ her hat, held by its ribbons wound ate her wrist, lay idly in her lap. She h exidently found the boat half fioa its bow, perhaps, grounded upon t beach, and, stepping in, had pushei off, and, lulled by the drowsy bree and soft rocking of tne swell, had fall^ Mi to oblivion.. Tho sight seemed to arouse in t breast of Edith Alston the ma uess wh* had until the past balf hour possess her. IIer.j3yes glittered, her ch flushed, her breath came short and quic She stood for several moments gazirg i tently in the girl's face, bu'; Dora di not awake. The tide was creeping sla' ly out; the dark cloud on the hori was becoming darker; the wind and se^ were rising-. Miss Alston bent dow and slowly drew the boat toward th shore. Then, with an effort, she lifte the buried keelock from the sand, arid heedless of her feet or dress, waded oui and placed it softly across the bow. Sti the girl-did not awake. A slight pu now from Miss Alston's arm would sea the boat, with its sleeping occupant, o of the cove, beyond the breakers, in deep water. The fast-ebbing tide woui carry it out to sea. Still the slumberiib figure did not awake, and poor, ma Miss Alston, with murder in her heart, stood gazing intently into the young, innocent face, and Hesitated, with o»( hand upon the boat. That night the wind whistled around the deserted piazza of the hotel and t£u surf, now a very wall of black and foam crested water, pounded upon the beach with a fury that made it tremble. The thunder crashed in deafening peals around the sky, and vivid sheets of liglifc ning, illuminating the windows, gave to the frightened inmates of the house ifto mentary pictures of a raging sea, beneath the horrid blackness of night. But, al though most of the guests sought the companionship of each other in the billiard- room or the cheerful precincts of the common parlor, three of them wefre absent, and exposed to the fury of the storm. ^ ^ f On the lonely beach, in the darkness and the rain, Herbert Allen and Edith Alston met face to face. Face to face with the man whom, saint or devil, had once loved more than all the world beside. Face to face with the woman he had, rightly or wrongly, abandoned years ago. In the lightning's flash, like a vision illumined in unearthly lighit each appeared to the other, out of tfie blackness. "Edith!" , Her eyes were riveted *on his as looked, and, though he saw her but instant, he felt that she was still gazi upon him with the same stony, w unnatural stare. Her lips parted, and gave uttffirtuji a single word. "WellP" It was onljrtVord, but in its singtf enunciation it expressed all the maddeit" ing agony of spirit she had undergone#!* these terrible years.'>3, 4 - -M* "Ediths have you believed me, in this time, the villain I have seemed Pv? "What else could I thinkP" she wered. "Herbert Allen,' I loved you bf ter, I think, than woman ever lovedtt}| before. From the hour of—of our w ation, J fore bitted you. I iiave :t .... "Edith! Edith!" he cried, "you don't know. I cannot tell you all now. Some news of my affliction must surely have reached you. For many dreadful weeks before—our separation, I had been troubled. I felt bewildered. God help me! I did not know that I was going mad. My mother died in a madhouse. On the day fixed for our wedding, I was on my iy to Europe, the victim of a madman's For three years I was an inmate an asylum there. When at last I was ced cured, and discharged, I re-to fulfill my promise. You had no one knew where, and I have searching for you, my darling, ever since. Edith! Edith! ccme back to me !" , He held out his arms. A vivid flash of lightning revealed Miss Alston to him, leaning against a rock, her hair disheveled, her figure drenched with rain, her palms pressed tight upon her temples. •'Herbert, you are not married!" No, no. What do you mean?" who was with you—to-day-not— your wife?" "My wife! She is my sister. For heaven's sake, do you know aught of P" Miss Alston reeled, and would have had he not sprang forward to i her. But she pushed him from her . all her force, and cried, in a voice rang high above the crash of thun-or the roaring of the gale:— "I did not know! I thought she was wife. You will never see her more, for she is dead." He could only repeat the word, and at her in perplexed amazement. ""She is drowned!'' she cried, beating breast with both her hands. "She floated out to sea—in a boat—asleep! •I am her murderer! I thought you her husband; that she had come you and me. God help me! I am going mad)" He heard her words in utter silence, stood staring into the darkness as trying to comprehend their She sank down upon the sand the foot of the rock against which she staggered, while a low, piteous wail from her lips. Then, suddenly, sprang to her feet, and, with the of a deer, she ran down the beach, vanished into the night. The elements were waging wild war her, but she did not heed them, wind tossed her disheveled hair, the driving rain beat upon her face, t she did not feel them. On, on to- „ ,j& ailPi she mm, iiovor stopping to lopk behind ber, and hearing nothing of the footsteps that close pursued her. One thought in her maddened brain excluded all else,—the sea! the sea! * * * * * * - Far down upon Long beach, a mile or more from the hotel, an old man has erected a cabin. In it, for many years, he has lived alone, receiving no visitors, and leading a life of almost entire seclusion. Tradition among the hotel guests gives him the reputation of a harmless madman. Little is known of his habits, or of his early life, but it is said that on stormy nights, when the sea is a mass of flying foam, and the surf crashes upon the sand, and among the rocks, with resistless fury, the great ships are driven ashore, and brave men are drowne.1, the old man can be often seen standing on the beach, with his arms outstretched, and crying, to invisible spirits in the •air:— fe'Dora! Edith! Come back! Come Dack!" Cure for poison oak: Apply zinc salve and mutton tallow to the parts affected. Good vinegar: A ctieap vinegar consists of twenty-five gallons of rain water with four gallons of treacle and one gallon of yeast. Let this ferment freely, and it is then fit for use. Fried potatoes: Take cold, boiled potatoes, grate them, make them into flat cakes, and fry them in butter. You may vary these cakes by dipping tliem in the beaten yelk of an egg and rolling them in bread crumbs, frying them in boiling liird. Removing grease spots: Dissolve in a half pint of water half a pound of washing soda, put in two pounds nf good hard soap, cut in slices, and boil until a iss is formed. Then add a half ounce each of alcohol, camphor, ether and liquid ammonia, and mold into cakes. Prepared mustard: Two tablespoon-fuls of mustard, one of flour; mix thoroughly while dry. Have a tea-cup two-thirds full of strong mustard; fill with water, stir the flour and mustard into it and let it boil until as thick as custard; remove from the fire and add a table-spoonful of sugar. Beef a-la-mode: Lard the mouse buttock with fat bacon sprinkled with parsley, scallious, champignons, and a clove of garlic shred fine, salt and pepper. Let it stew gently five or six hours in its own gravy; this should be done in an earthen vessel just large enough to contain it. May be served hot or cold. Vegetables: All vegetables, except potatoes, asparagus, peas, and cauliflower, should boil as fast as possible, these four only moderately. Cabbage can be made as delicate as cauliflower if boiled in plenty of water to which a saltspoon-ful of soda has been added; boil as fast as possible for twenty minutes or half an hour. To clean gold ornaments: Dissolve a little sal ammoniac in spirits of wine, and wash the gold in it; or, try the following method: Mix some^jeweler's rouge with a little salad oil, and with a tooth-brush rub the ornament till perfectly clean. Then wash it in warm soap and water with a clean brush, and dry it with wash leather. Fish cakes: Cold boiled codfish, either fresh or salt, remove the bones and mince the meat; take two-thirds as much warm mashed potatoes as fish, add a little butter and sufficient beaten eggs or milk to make the whole into a smooth paste, season with, pepper, make into cakes about an inch thick; sprinkle -thenr^itir-flpar-aa<Hfjr brown in but- Hearing that efforts were still being made to recover the government specie, amounting to a million pounds sterling, lost on the frigate Hussar which went down over one hundred years ago, 1 visited the divers at work at the foot of 125 th street, East River. Two divers work under the water daily; learned that they work four hours each day beneath the river's bed, always at slack water, which occurs twice in the twenty-four hours. William Smith, one of the divers, was an Englishman. Soon I led him in to tell me something of his history. "How did you come to be a diverP" I asked. He laughed, when he saitl, "I 'spose because there was divers before me. I was always with them, you see—brought up amongst them." "In EnglandP" I asked. "Ay; in London. My first attempt was at Blackwater, in the Thames." "Oh! You had plenty of black mud there, and very little treasure I should say. Lots of suicides are there not?" "Nothing like>as many as here," said the diver. ."Well, I must admit Thames mud isn't pleasant, but 'taint a very agreeable profession at the best of times. I served my apprenticeship, ran away to sep. a good many times, been most all over the world, and came back to my diving trade at intervals." "How long have you been here?" "Going on two years now," said William Smith. "Have you ever found anything?" I asked. "Here, do you moan?" "Oh, here or anywhere." "Well, yes—lots. I've been off wrecks, you see; brought up lots of cargo, and 11 "Anybodies?" • 'Yes," and I noticed a strange sort of expression come over the man's face. "You could tell some strange stories of sights you have seen, I expect?" I asked. "Yes." "Wh&i you bring up bodies lost in shipwreck do you generally find they look as if they had died by violence or in peace?" Again the indescribable expression came over his face a pause, then he said :— "Well, you see, one's in the dark down there; we don't see what we have got till we come up and then we mostly have them in our arms, and it's natural; not that one's afraid, but it's natural, not to 4tjok atrft -more-than you ctmholp H*hen iikAt USING NIAGARA FALL8. a meeting of bankers held at Niagara Falls recently, an address was read on the economic aspects of the various methods proposed and adopted for utilizing the water power of Niagara. It was said that there will be three tur-bine wheels, 4 feet in diameter, with 80 feet head, fed by a tube 7 feet in diameter, each turbine giving 1000 horse-power, .erected in Niagara, which will stand unrivalled among motors of their class in the world, and that the experiment of using turbines of such unusual dimensions, with so great a head of water, would be watched by mechanical engi-neers with much interest. J iP^TLe extraordinary development of .water power for economic purposes is an American idea, and in no other country jias it been so extensively and success-fully utilized. This will be apparent by considering some of the rivers which fiiave been dammed for the benefit of oHr industries. The address enumerated the rivers, and showed that, taken altogether ;they yielded a total power of 500,000 horse-power, distributed over a wide extent of country, and supplying in their way'the wants of 50.000,000 of people. > But Niagara eclipses them all; with a |low of 10,000,000 cubic feet per minute, converted into horse-power under a head fof 200 feet, we would have a grand aggregate of 3,000,000 hoTse-power, a force I'that would supply the wants ot 200,000,- fOOO of people. .vS' A OAUFOKBIA GIRL, A young man in the neighborhood taken up 160 acres of land, built a upon it, a barn, bored wells, dug itches, sown it in wheat, and in all pent hundreds of dollars upon it. It ,pened to be a dry season, and the jp failed. He became discouraged, offered his claim and improvements sacrifice. 4 young lady ga ve him _ for his right, title, and interest In land and everything on it. She let [e. v She need do nothing more. She je insufficient crop for hog feed, ibgs rooted and scattered it. The .•t rains came, and with them came volunteer crop, which matured and been cut, yielding twelve bush-it acre on ISO acres, She will clear $1500, besides having the land improvement*.—Visalia, Cat.* t e r . • ' • • • • • " ' • • • To hash beef: Shred three or four onions very fine, and turn them upon the fire with a bit of butter till they are colored; moisten them with some broth, pepper and salt; then put in your beef cut small; let it simmer till it has taken the flavor of the onion. When dished, add a spoonful of mustard and a dash of vinegar. Black crape, when wet by rain, is almost certain to spot. Lay the crape whether a veil or piece of trimming on a table, and place a piece of old black silk underneath the stains; then dip a soft camel's-hair brush in black ink, and carefully paint the stains over with it, gently wipe off the superabundant ink with a piece of silk, and the stains, as the places dry, will disappear. Breakfast mushrooms: Place some freshly-made toast, nicely divided, on a dish, and put half-grown mushrooms, stemmed and peeled, upon it; add pepper and salt judiciously, and put a small piece of butter on each. Then pour on each mushroom^ ^spoonful of milk or creaui and add one <5"iOve for the whole dish. Place a bell glass over the whole, or an inverted basin will serve the purpose less elegantly. Bake for twenty minutes, and serve up at once, without moving the glass or basin until it comes upon the table, so as to preserve the heat and the aroma. Rump of beef: • Lard a rump of beef, having taken out the bone, with fat bacon ; season it with salt and spices; put it into a vessel just large enough to contain it with half a pint of white wine. Close the edges with paste and let it stew in an oven five or six hours according to the size of your meat, serve it with its sauce well skimmed Leg of mutton: Take a leg of mutton made tender by hanging, lift up the skin, but do not sever it from the knuckle, lard all meat with celery half stewed, pickled gherkins sliced, some sprigs of tarragon parboiled, bacon and anchovys all moderately seasoned, then put the skirvover in such a manner that it may not appear to have been taken off; secure it with packthread lest it fall off in roasting. When it is done serve with a sauce in which there should be a few shalots. ;rsL. Rump of beef with Dutch onions: Having taken out the bone, tie your rump of beef with packthread, and stew it in a vessel that will admit fire at the top, some good broth, a slice of veal, a rasher, a large bunch of herbs, pepper and salt; and when it is half done add about thirty Dutch onions, or, if you cannot get them, large red onions. The beef being done, take it out and wipe oft the grease. Dish it with the onions round it^d serve with a good sauce over it. , Leg of mutton: Take a leg of mutton that has hung till it be tender, pare off the fat, fie it with packthread, stew five hours with some broth, very little salt, and a bunch of sweet herbs. When the mutton is done take it out, skim the liquor, let consume over the fire to a jelly, then put in the meat again that it may take all the substance, taking care it does not burn. When all the sauce is consumed, toss up a cleat oullis in the stewpan, then have ready a handful of parsley parboiled, squeeze, and chop it floe, and put it into your sauce, which must be seasoned .tct tastg, »utUM they've lain long, you see, and the fishes and all, why it's not pleasant." I asked no more. I felt that however long my kind informer had dived he had no love for the horrible. 'I went down after the Seawanhaka," said he, "and brought up or.e of the lost. Right by there!" and he pointed to the remains of the wrecked vessel. "All we do here now," he continued, we do under the orders of an electrician. If you saw him he'd tell you just where the treasure lies. We're eighty feet below the bed of the river now, and we pump up that sort of thing every day." "Very slow work," suggested a visitor, "and hopeless, too. You ought to have a coflerdam, like they had to sink the piles of the Brooklyn bridge." "We ought so," said William Smith, "but, you see, the cost would be some $25,000 or more. 'You'll never do much good till you do. You work for a company now, but the company had better prepare to do it in that way. Five millions is worth an effort." "So 'tis," said the man. "What does it look like under water?" I asked. "Well, go see," said William Smith, "it's terribly dark. They do talk of this new electric light, but Lor', I don't believe it'll answer so that they can illuminate the bottom. They tried the oil lamps they have in mines, but it was no use; stands to reason the pressure's too great for lights to bum down there. The curious thing is the fishes. The little ones they crowd around us now as if they wanted to be taken care of, and they only come flop against one now and again. The lobsters and crabs are a trouble—they hang on to one's things. In winter we wear gloves, but in summer we go with our hands free, and I tell you we have to mind." William Smith told me many valuable facts. "Tllerfe'fl only thirty-two divers in the whole United States," he said. "It's not a favorite profession, but we get a good job now and again; but it's trying, there's not many can stand it; it makes us exhausted." "Does it affect your healthP" I asked. "Don't know as it does, but it makes you feel terribly shaky for about half an hour after you come up. You see the great change of air pressure's something awful. Un here its atmospheric pressuie is about fifteen feet; down there it's over fifty feet or more. But, there, you get used to it." "Like eels to being skinned," I said, laughing. My thoughts went back to Dickens and Our Mutual Friend, to the hideous unveiling of TJ.ames secrets he has left recorded to all time; and as we bade adieu to our friendly guide, IJcould but reflect that strange as life is to us all, h ow lew there are who realize one hall its slrangeness-j^jCorr. New York paper. Watered silks are the popular for temperance people. If a smoker were to chew up his and swallow it that would be a cigarette, wouldn't it? : * Before criticising a hotel clerk ber that it is his business to form an opinion of you. What does a n an take which also takes him? A train of cars, a wife, or a dose of poison. Take your choice. The difference between pigs and pugilists is not so very great. The latter peel for the fight, and the former fight for the peel. Barber-shop scene: "You're very bald, sir! Have you tried our tonic lotion?" "Oh yes. But that's what's made all my hair fall oft'." True story: Now, then, what's your papa's name Freddy ?" " Dunno. "Don't know your papa's name! Why, what does mamma call him ?" "Brute." "Are you going to the ocean?" "No, I am not going to the ocean; I detest the motion; but my sister has a notion of going to the ocean, by way of Goschen." A little girl joyfully assured her mother the. other day that she had lound out where they made horses; she had seen a man finishing one. "He was nailing on his last foot." A wag, who thought to have a joke at the expense of an Irish provision dealer, said, "Can you supply me with a yard of pork ?" "Pat," said the provision dealer to his assistant, "give this gentleman three pig's feet." A little girl was eating green corn by gnawing it from a cob, when^ier teeth became entangled with the corn-silk. "Oh dear!" said she, impatiently. "I wish when they get the corn made they would pull out the basting threads." The clergyman who tied the knot made a serious sort of speech when the cake was cut. One of the little bride-maids, aged seven years, was asked by a youngster to give an account of the ceremony. "Oh," said she, "we had prayers in church, and the sermon at breakfast." Cannibalism in London: In the pages of the Daily Chronicle a great medium for practical advertisers who generally mean what they say—the following advertisement has lately appeared: "Ham and Beef—Wanted—A boy about 14 for the above." This is surely an announcement more fitted for the Sandwich Islands than fur London.—Punch- — whe as&ed a friend how to tell a horse's age. "By his teeth," was the reply. The next day the man went to a horse-dealer, who showed him a splendid black horse. The horse-hunter opened the animal's mouth, gave one glance, and turned on his heel. "I don't want him," said he; "he's thirty-two years old." He had counted the teeth. When a poor Irishman laf !iorf his death-bed, one of his friends came to express his sympathy. He took the poor man's hand, and said, with evident emotion: "Pat, my boy, we must all of-us die once." The sick man turned over in a disgusted frame of mind, and replied: "That's just what bothers me. If we could omy die^half a dozen #fl?ee 11 11 worry about - INDIAJT EOMAflCE. Maj. Gordon of the 2d infantry was well acquainted with Spotted Tail, the Sioux chief, who was killed by Crow Dog at Rosebud agency. He first saw him at Fort Laramie in 1866, he having come thither on an errand so sad that it affected his after life. He brought there the body of his favorite daughter for burial. and officers of the port, with other white residents of the neighborhood, took part in the obsequies. Spotted Tail killed a number of ponies at the funeral, and nailed the skulls on the posts supporting the coffin. These skulls still remain. and every year the commanding officer sees to that the coffin is decorated with flowers and streamers. ^ The daughter had a romantic history,. which is familiar to many army officers and plainsmen. She fell in love with Lieut. Brockhorst Livingston of the old 2d dragoons, and a direct descendant of the famous Chancellor Livingston of New York. He seems to have reciprocated her love, and they lived together as man and wife, though bound by no legal ties. Livingston at length took sick, became a prey to dementia, was sent to Europe, and there died. The poor girl awaited his return long aud anxiously, and guarded as dearer than her heart's blood his son, a bright boy two or three years old. At length news of his death reached her, and the wife— lor such she considered herself, and so her native friends considered her—pined a few months with a slowly breaking heart, and then died. Her last words were the few English words of endearment Livingston had taught her in days gone by. Spotted Tail took the beloved form where Livingston had first met her, and there buried it. Mrs. Livingston, the mother of the lieutenant, is still living in New York, or was a short time ago, and has instituted inquires relative to the son spoken of with & view of caring for and educating him, but all trace of him was lost, or his dusky relatives preferred to keep him to themselves. LET THEM 00ME. Some of the Canadian newspapers openly advocate cecession from Great Britain, either with a view to annexation to the United States, or to the establishment of an independent republic. "Our idea ot loyalty." says the Montreal Star, for example, "is to be loyal to our own country first, and then to the rest of the world afterward." On the other hand, the commercial advantages of Canada's present relation to Great Britain are dwelt upon. The Toronto Gtbbe puts it in this way : "It i* a connection which redounds in a hundred ways to our honor and our advantage, and which costs us nothing. Any restriction in-volved in regard to our dealings Wiifc foreign nations is counterbalanced t€iv times over by the security, the Influence# -; iind prestige we derite from flat " Xi:
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* ! j. .•v .?..•^. -- J.' • •-•1 -
VOL II. THOMPSONYILLE, CONN., DAY, AUGUST 18, 1881.
SEEKING TEEASUEE, OBIBBAGE
EFFORTS MADE TO GET A FORTUNE.
world for you for five long years, HOUSEHOLD NOTES.
vowed revenge. To-day, revenge
E- 1\ PARSONS, M. D„
pHYSIC'£ AX AND SURGEON. Resi-aence
and office cor. PJoasaul and
School str eets, Thompsonville, Conn.
J. HOMER DARLING:, iff. D.,
HOMTOE OPAT„H I.C Pi lHlY1 So II CU 1IAA JNN .——
Plcf'sant. St., ritonipsonville. Conn.
L ATVMER PlfYin$R[NGf,
GEORGE P. CLARK,''
ATAi\UFACrijREll of P.itpnt Ruisber
Casters. Wiixlsor Lucks, Conn.
A. W. CONVERSE &
TRON FOUNDS#. Manu.^
X kinds of IRON CASTINGS,
sor Locks, Conn, .: L
)RGE GLOVER1, JR.
|NrST and General Repairer.
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