new acquaintance Insinuated himself Into the 
conltdence of the traveler, learned all about his 
family and where they lived, studied his hand¬ 
writing, mastered his personal history, and Unally 
murdered him, took possession of his trunk, as¬ 
sumed his name, opened a correspondence with 
his family, and has obtained large remittances 
from them under the plea of sickness, losses, etc. 
The correspondence has been carried on since 
last October, and the facts have only Just come 
to light. The evidence is satd to he conclusive 
and quite sufficient to insure the conviction and 
punishment of the cunning murderer.— Tutllan- 
apoils Journal. 
FRITTERED AWAY. 
How many times we fritter away without doing 
anything for ourselves or the public good. For 
such omissions It is too much the habit with us 
all to excuse ourselves on the ploa of a want of 
time; whereas, in trutn, this Is seldom a good 
and sufficient ground of justification. Nothing Is 
easier than to fritter away time in matters of no 
use to ourselves or to any one else. The habit is 
readily formed. It grows upon one unawares. 
Keep a strict account of every hour of your own 
time for a single week, setting down correctly 
the exact manner In which every hour Is spent, 
and seo whether, when you come to review the 
record, you do not lind It full of admonition and 
Instruction. In this simple way one can readily 
understand the secret of his want of time. He 
will discover that he lias given hours to Idle talk, 
to Indolence, and to Inconslderato trifles, which 
have yielded him ncltner protlt nor pleasure. 
What is the remedy ? Arrange your work in tbo 
order of Its comparative importance. Attend llrsl 
to the things which are essential to he done, and 
let the unessential^ take their chance afterward. 
The difference in the amount of work accomplish¬ 
ed will be astonishing. Duty before pleasure. 
Those who practice Ibis precept have plenty of 
time for pleasure, and enjoy far greater satisfac¬ 
tion than those who reverse this rule. 
AN EXCITING INCIDENT. 
A veuy exciting Incident occurred not long 
since at the village of Soudan, In France. Incon¬ 
sequence of the weathercock at the top of the 
church steeple getting rusty and no longer turn¬ 
ing as it should do. It was determined to take It 
down. A man climbed up the steeple, hut Just 
before he could roach the weathercock be lost ids 
balance and slid down for sevdnty feet, then re¬ 
bounded on the roof of the ehuroh, aud rolling 
thence was precipitated to the ground. Ho was 
not much hurt, but being much shaken by the fall, 
he was replaced by a man named Chevalier. In 
about halt a a hour Chevalier made the most gal¬ 
lant efforts to haul himself up by means of a ropo, 
but at last Ids hand slipped, aud he toll backward. 
His foot caught In the rope, as luck would have 
It, and there ho remained, one hundred and twen¬ 
ty feet from the ground, with his head down, 
beating the air with his hands, struggling to re¬ 
cover himself. A spectator went to his rescue, 
slipped a rope around his body, and cutting that 
which held his foot, freed him from the fearful 
position in which ho had remained for three hours. 
. - ■ »♦ 
LARGE NOSES. 
Du. Cm, au Inventive surgeon of Paris, noticed 
that elderly people, who for a long time have 
worn eye-glasses supported on the nose by a 
spring, are apt to have this organ long and thin. 
This he attributes to the compression wJiicli the 
spring exerts on the arteries by which the nose la 
nourished. The idea occurred to him that the 
hint could be made useful. Not long afterward a 
young lady of llfcoou consulted him, to see If he 
could restore to moderate dimensions her nose, 
which was large, tloshy, and unsightly. The 
trait he l'ouud was hereditary lu her faro fly, as 
her mother and sister were similarly affected. 
This was discouraging, as hereditary peculiarities 
are particularly obstinate. Hut the doctor deter¬ 
mined to try his method. He took exact meas¬ 
urement, and had constructed for her a “ lunette 
pince-nez a spring and pad for compressing the 
artery, which she wore at night and whenever 
she conveniently could la the daytime, in three 
weeks a consolatory diminution was evident, and 
In three months the young lady was quite satis- 
fled with the improvement in her features. 
-♦♦♦- 
STEAM AND SAIL CRAFT ONE THE LAKES. 
The rapid Increase of steamers on the chain of 
the great northern lakes Is the feature of the lake 
trade during the last three years. The number 
employed lu lsTfi Is reported to have been 8$5, 
their tonnage being 190,367. The muuoor ex o,«.u 
lng vessels has fallen off heavily, decreasing from 
3,268 In 1x72 to 1,682; the tonnage, however, not 
going down In quite the same proportion, but to 
such an extent that there were 200 ,000 tons less in 
the trade last year than la 1872. 
- - » - ■ — - 
Pkttbsoiix says that the first returning board 
of which he has any recollection was a shingle in 
the hands of his father. The three—father, son, 
and shingle—used to hold frequent committee 
meetings In the back shed, but tbo returns came 
In so swiftly that a fair count was impracticable. 
" What's the use of making such a fuss about a 
little water?” said a Judge before whom motion 
after motion had come in a case where a small 
spring was the object of contention. “The par¬ 
ties are both milkmen,” quietly said one of the 
lawyers. “ Oh, I see,” said the J udge. 
THE GREATE3T CHARM. 
You aro making it a study. 
Amid life’s perploxitar whirl. 
Just how to be " a lady." 
My pretty, thoughtful girl f 
Your fashion plates are perfect— 
Your books on etiquette. 
That treat of •• style ” and “ mauner,” 
Aro gems of art, my pet. 
And yet look up, O lassie ! 
A moment from tho page; 
There is another lesson 
Soon learned at yonr sweet age. 
'Tis this; the heart's the fountain 
From which politeness flows. 
And mind must shape the manners 
As sunshine shapes tho rose. 
If you in life, my petite, 
A social queon would be. 
Then study well the graces. 
Faith, Hope aud Charity. 
Pay deference to your alders. 
Keep soul and body calm; 
Aud cultivate sweet temper, 
'Tis woman's greatest charm. 
■ ■ 
THE WAGE3 OF AUTHORSHIP. 
Devour George Elliot's new novel had run half 
Its course the Journalistic paragraphist who has 
access to her private account books puts down her 
percentage of the proms at Just $ 200 , 000 , a state¬ 
ment which must cause unbounded Hilarity In the 
counting-room of her publishers. This is theci r- 
rent rumor about ever}' successful novel, and goes 
a great way towards Justifying that Philistine 
opinion which looks on literary property as every¬ 
body’s property, and Inclines tho general public 
to avow that an author has no business with 
more money than Just enough to keop body and 
soul together. 
The bubblo of the vast proilts of authorship has 
been pricked up by our Now York correspondent, 
who has recently boeu engaged In the painful 
process of reducing the assumed proilts to the ac¬ 
tual standard of hard proof. Ho has Instanced 
Irving, still the most popular of all American au¬ 
thors, whoso modest fortune would have been 
laughed at by a successful "operator” or a dis¬ 
charged conductor; and we may add that If Ir¬ 
ving, Instead of bulldlug Tor himself a reputation 
lu the hearts Of all gentle Americans, had merely 
bought a corner lot in New York city, his heirs 
would have been richer. Hawthorne, who comes 
next after Irving, needed a consulate; Longfel¬ 
low, Bryant aud Whittier, who have lived long 
and wnr.r.en much, have not made as much by 
their poetry', which has adorned and dignified tho 
history of America, as they would have made had 
they lert their places blank la our literature aud 
taken modest clerkships in the nearest store, 
J.owell lias never realized a competence from lit¬ 
erature ; Curtis is still dependent on his editorial 
salary; Bayard Taylor, after thirty years of suc¬ 
cessful book-writing Is glad to plod on In the edi¬ 
torial columns or the New York Tribune, at a 
salary known only to the Imaginative paragrapb- 
lst. 
The Instances abroad are not as bad as at Home, 
but In England literature does not pay. 
Charles Dickens, endowed with a genius which 
stands alone In tho long roll of English literature, 
and who worked hard, may have made $20,000 a 
year; Thackeray, whose genius was perhaps of a 
higher order, though hla popularity was loss, 
never made half a3 much. As a rule, a modest 
competence Is the utmost reward of high powers 
devoted to literary pursuits, and tho utmost re¬ 
wards fall short of those attained In any other 
career. The great prizes of the law, or diplo¬ 
macy, of business, still enable those who obtain 
them to look down on men who have merely 
learning or genius, whose names will live for 
ages, while the rich dullards are forgotten, and 
who are remembered because their Intellect has 
become part of the common Intellect of the race, 
because the best minds of all the ages are not 
only their inheritors, but their descendants, In a 
certain sense. 
Tf tho perpetual sentence of poverty and hard 
labor were a result of any inevitable conditions 
or natural arrangements of society, there would 
he no Injustice In It, nor could the author blame 
any one but himself. But here, in America, the 
law which will not let the merchant Import a bar 
of Iron or a shred of ribbon without duty, for fear 
of Injuring the right of the American laborer to 
high wages, not only levies duty on native au¬ 
thorship, but permits the bookseller to steal the 
subtle product of the British author’s brain, mak¬ 
ing atonement by allowing the British bookseller 
to steal the product or the American author’s 
brain. 
It Is very hard to see where the profit to the 
author cornea In such an arrangement, and It la 
not easy to understand why an author should not 
be protected In the ownership of his works. One 
of the reasons why our literature Is not better 
than it Is, Is because authorship does not thrive 
under slavery, and In the division of the profits the 
author is the slave of the publisher. Why, for 
instance, should Scribner pay a high price to Bret 
Uarte tor a novel ?—Trollope will soon have a 
novel out in England, which will sell nearly as 
well, and which can be had tor the stealing. 
Look at the catalogue o£ American publications 
for any year. It represents largely nothing but 
larcenies, which have robbed the British author 
merely because there was no policeman by to ar¬ 
rest the thief, and whioh have wronged the Amer¬ 
ican author, because he must compete In the 
market with the dealers in stolen goods. 
It has been a good thousand years since any na¬ 
tion now civilized has claimed tho right to seize, 
strip, and rob any stranger whom the sea might 
cast upon the shore, and yet, In a thousand years, 
the Rngllsh-speuklug people of two of the earth’s 
foremost nations have not learned to raise litera¬ 
ture abovo tho licensed piracy of tho darkest of 
the dark age8. Until a month ago wo could not 
allow a man to steal a bond or a jewel and live ou 
the plunder In England, and ir wo caught a man 
who had stolen material property In England we 
sent him back. But the whole overgrown aud 
overcrowded book-publishing trade of tho United 
States, which is tumbling to pieces because Its 
excosslvo profits have led to excessive competi¬ 
tion, is built up chiefly on literary piracy, on the 
robbery of foreign authors, and the wronging of 
American authors. Until this disgrace to our 
civilization Is abolished by the enactment of an 
International copyright act, we will see our Haw¬ 
thornes dependent on consulships, and our Emer¬ 
sons on lecturing—to our national ronown and 
glory.— AY. Louis Globe-Democrat, 
-- 
PUTTING THE BABY TO SLEEP. 
The young rascal has no more Idea of going to 
sleep than tho man In the moon. Ho deftly 
clutches mo by both earrings, and, throwing 
himself upon his feet In a manner calculated to 
make the most, fond mamma’s teeth chatter, and 
seizing my frizzes by way of steadying himself, 
he firmly grasps my buck-comb, which he only 
relinquishes at my most earnest and repeated so¬ 
licitations. Finding less comfort there than he 
had reason to expect, lie proceeds to explore my 
eyes, nose, care, am mouth with his chubby 
forotlngnr, emphasizing the research by trying 
lils teeth on the aforesaid member. Anatomy ex¬ 
hausted, he turns to pastures new. 
Do not imagine that I have been an Idle recipi¬ 
ent Of these fund uttcutlous. No! 1 have been 
sweetly chanting, trotting, and rocking. I have 
tenderly given "Sweet and low,” "bleep, baby 
dear." I have done “Tho Crooked Man,” 
“ Humpty-Dumpty,” with variations, “ Hickory, 
Hickory, Dock,” Ac., &c. f and having conscien¬ 
tiously ilnlsbed " Mother Clouse "—not even dis¬ 
daining such unmusical productions as “Pop 
goes the Wcascsl,” and " Mother, may 1 go out 
to Swim,” lu the Illusive belief that they are 
calculated to stay and fix tho wandering eyes 
and attention of Young America- I proceed to 
more solemn business. I divest myself or ear¬ 
rings, neck-tie, and other snares, and, meta¬ 
phorically, rolling up my sleeves, I strike into the 
“Sam tunes.” “ O! to grace how great a dobtor ” 
is a comfort to me, but Its soporific Influence is 
confined to churches. Baby still pokes aud 
clutches at raythlOfit. “nold the Fort” rings 
out with the heat of combat. Baby evidently In¬ 
tends to do so. 
Having gone through my reportolre of major 
tunes with no success, I conclude to resort to he¬ 
roic treatment. With groanlngs that cannot he 
uttered, I lay the young man down and firmly 
clasp Win In my arms. Result: a very exaspe¬ 
rated boy, a year old, who struggles and squalls 
most lustily. Being a little stronger, I hold on 
and solemnly chant, " Hark from the tombs.” 
Five minutes of this innocent diversion convinces 
mo that tho child must have a pain. Perhaps 
the little lovo has tin* stomach-ache. Ills ear 
may ache. He throws ids little fists about fiercely, 
and as ho reaches for water so sweetly, I let him 
up, feeling that I have been unwarrantably se- 
vore. Still I do sometimes wonder how a few Ju¬ 
diciously-administered spanks would sound. Ifav- 
lug thus solaced myself, we go at It again—sing, 
scratch, poke, trot, rook, walk, drink, kiss, scold, 
pot—eyes preternatural!/ wide open, til nner get¬ 
ting cold down btalrs. At length, when we are 
both exhausted and those dear little peepers do 
close tight, and, snuggling down close to my 
heart, he resigns hlmseir to the Inevitable, how 
sweet the cherub Is! 
-♦♦♦-- 
TWENTY-TWO YEARS IN PRISON. 
Here is a little storyTwenty-two years ago 
a young man In Now Haven was engaged to marry 
a woman there. For some reason, she transferred 
her promise to marry, if not her affections, to an¬ 
other person. Tho first suitor, who was a respect¬ 
able '.mechanic, disapproved of tho match, and 
declared that his rival was a disreputable person, 
who would lead his affianced a wretched life, and 
that while ho could surrender her himself, he 
would rather she should die than marry that man. 
Accordingly, and as he said, solely to save her 
from the awful fate of such a degrading marriage, 
ho killed tho girl. He (lid not attempt ro conceal 
his dime; he Justified It,'and regarded himself as 
the savior or the girl’s happiness. 
He was tried for murder, and acquitted on the 
ground of Insanity, although ho stoutly dented 
that, he was lusauc, and said that ho acted upon 
hla cool conviction of what was best for the girl, 
and was ready to suffer the penalty of tho law for 
the homicide. Acquitted, ho was remanded to the 
county Jallby tlie court. He remained there seven 
or eight years, all the time protesting thut he was 
In his right mind, and that the state should either 
hang him for murder or release him. lie was then 
transferred to the State prison at Wethersfield, 
by what authority It does not appear, under no 
sentence. There he has remained until this day, 
in the same state of mind, apparently rational on 
all subjects, except that ho insists that ho had a 
right to girl to save her from dishonor; and that 
If tho State thought otherwise, It should have 
punished him as a murderer. 
This la the story ol Willard Clarke, who has 
now petitioned the Assembly to remove him from 
the State prison to the Insane Asylum at Middle- 
town. If he 1s Insane, that la where ho belongs. 
Tf he Is sane, ho has a right, to his liberty, having 
been once acquitted on trial for his life. So far 
as It appears, ho has now been In Jail nearly a 
quarter or a century without authority of law; 
for If there is anywhere existing a legal commit¬ 
ment of Clarke as a lunatic, the State prison is 
not a legal place for the confinement of lunatics 
who have not been convicted of crime. Itlsqulte 
time t hat the Assembly relieved the state of the 
disgrace of such slip-shod, proceedings. 
-- 
TWO FAMOUS HENPECKED HUSBANDS. 
Steele’s women aro the women of mediocre 
eighteenth century comedy; and they have at 
limes a rather alarming family likeness to Lady 
Steele and Lady Warwick, as far ns we can Judge 
of those two ladles irom the extremely small 
means at our command. Both Afldlslou and Steele 
seem to have suffered from the Same domestic 
trouble. Addison, Ids detractors say, used to take 
refuge from tho wlfo of his bosom at Hutton’s, 
where ho took more wine than was good tor a 
delicate constitution like his; he could not al¬ 
ways stand Lady Warwick. Hteole was lu the 
same trouble. Wo find him writing“ Dearest 
Being on Earth—I’ardon mo If you do not see me 
till eleven o’clock, having met, a sohool follow from 
Indlu by whom 1 am to bo lulormed In things this 
night which extremely concern your obedient 
husband, Richard Hteole.” Wo hope, for the sako 
of peace, Lady Sleole was asleep when he got 
homo, and that he remembered to take his boots 
off before getting Into bed. A bullying wife la apt 
to make a lying husband, and we (l.v not believe 
in the schoolfellow irom India. 
Addison had to takesd much drink to make him 
talk brilliantly—ho could never apeak In Parlia¬ 
ment—that Steele was generally fuddled before 
Addison began ; consequently, tho suggestion 
about, the boots Is not out uf place, la It not wildly 
possible that Lady Warwick and I.mly Steele 
might have kept their husbands at home by adlf- 
ferent, course of treatment, and not; driven them 
to the taverns lor tlio sake of society, by simply 
assisting them to entertain their husbands’ friends 
at home, and listening to the bust conversation of 
the century ? 
--. 
THE QUADROONS OF NEW ORLEANS. 
Quadroon society Is another Interesting feature 
of this very Interesting city- There are somo 
thousands of quadroons bore, tho females appear¬ 
ing largely to predominate over tho males In num¬ 
bers. Many of Lhem are handsome, and it Is an 
undoubted fact that there Is more beauty to bo 
found among the quadroons than any other class. 
At the quadroon. balls a few octoroons will also 
occasionally be seen. Tlio quadroons dress with 
as much taste as their more favored white sisters. 
They are generally of symmetrical build, small 
feet and hands, regular features and very expres¬ 
sive eyes. It Is rare to meet one 01 them that has 
not at least, an ordinary common school educa¬ 
tion, while somo have a moderate degree of cult¬ 
ure and are fair musicians. 
in the ballroom they appear to advantage, be¬ 
comingly and modestly attired, good dancers and 
easy In conversation. They a ro not considered as 
belonging to tho vulgar class. The French quad¬ 
roons are descended from tho best Creole fami¬ 
lies. Tho quadroons are mostly acquainted with 
their parent Stock, and take great pride In men¬ 
tioning that they are allied to this or that one of 
the first families. The female quadroons very 
rarely associate with the black people of either 
sex. They are devoted to the place of their birth, 
and few of them ever leave there. 
-- 
WOMEN. 
During tho polling for the London School Board 
a ratepayer arrived breathless and In a state of 
excitement at one of tho polling stations in 
Hackney and said, “ 1 want to vote for a woman.’ 
“Ah," said a friendly voice, “I suppose you 
mean Miss Miller?" "No,” says the ratepayer, 
“ that’s not her name; let me ait down and think. 
1 saw it, on a placard as 1 camo along." (Thinks 
aloud.) “ 1 have It. Poll Early; that’s her i" 
The philanthropic Burlington Hawkeye says: 
Careless, thoughtless man, you could do ever so 
much good In this sorrow-stricken old world If 
you (fitly would. You can bring a flush of pleasure 
w the homeliest woman that over wore pimples 
on her nose by saying to your friend In a stago 
undertone, "what lovely eyes that girl has!” 
She might know you to be a liar, but she would 
always gratefully remember you as a Christian 
gentleman. 
"My wlfo tells the truth throe times a day,” 
remarked a Jocose old fellow, at tho same time 
casting a very mischievous glance at her. “Be¬ 
fore rising In the morning 1 she say3 4 Oh, dear, I 
must get up, but 1 don’t want to.’ After break¬ 
fast she adds, ‘ Well, 1 suppose i must go to work, 
but I don’t want to.’ And she goes to bed saying, 
‘There, I have been fussing all day and haven’t 
done anything.’ ” 
It Is not known yet where she lives this year, 
but, don’t let us worry; she will surely appear In 
tho newspapers within the next three months. 
We allude to that farmer's daughter of seventeen 
who plows twenty acres or ground, cuts fifteen 
acres of grain with a reaper and mower, threshes 
all the wheat, cultivates ono aero of cabbages, 
milks twenty cows every morning before break¬ 
fast, and does nearly all the housework, while her 
father lies abed with the inflammatory rheuma¬ 
tism all summer. 
