The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

oe ee ey ng "tottered off towards the door. $2.00 per Annum VOL. 2, No. 14.] 'All extremes are error, the opposite of error is nottruth but error; t ruth lies between the extremes." in advance. STRATFORD, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 6, 1864. [WHOLE No. 41 @Original Poetry. PNP OS SL INN NIE I atin ti ep tun ne hb The Pensive Sigh, The tears have dimmed my eyes, then why should I forego The lonely songs sigh, that's heaved for other's Woe | My heart has known what 'tis to bleed, what 'tis to be deceived. Then ever let my tears flow fast, when other hearts are grieved. Tye known what 'tis to sigh, tho' none will sigh for me ; I've known what 'tis to shed sad tears, and sor- towful to be ; I've known what 'tis to brood o'er woes, through many a dreary hour; Tye known what 'tis to feel the blight of stern misfortune's power ; Pye known what 'tis to grieve ere infant years rolled on ; And I have learned to stem the tide of Fate's dark stream alone ; I've known what 'tis to feel for those who ne'er have felt for me ; Pve known what 'tis to feel the weight of stern adversity ; Then ever flow, my tears! flow on! I ne'er may smile, Except when 'midst the gay I throng, and happy seem awhile ; No joy this heart must ever know, but brood o'er many a woe, Then tell me not to cease my sighs, nor yet my tears forego. 1832 M,)%.. C. From Chamber's Journal. LOST SIR» MASSINGBERD. (Continued.) 'This is my, pupil, Peter Meredith,' said Mr. Long. 'I know the young gentleman,' replied Sir Massingberd curtly, and the horse-shoe upon his brow contracted as he spoke. ' What makes you bring him here ?' 'Well, Sir, Massingberd,' observed my. tutor, forcing a laugh, 'that is scarcely a hospitable observation. I bring this friend of your nephew's because what I have to propose concerns them both. Itis good for these boys to be together, not to live solitary lives; and to keep them mewed up at home, as they are now, is a positive cruelty. Marmaduke is getting thinner and paler every day; and Meredith.' 'Do you really think so, parson?' asked the baronet eagerly, omitting for a moment to use the dirty-lookiug piece of old flannel which had - previously monopolised his attention. 'I do, indeed, Sir Massingberd. TI believe that if a doctor was to give his opinion about that boy '-- The Heaths 'never send for doctors--or for clergymen,' interrupted the baronet drily. "And yet they have often needed advice both spiritual and temporal,' quoth my tutor stoutly. 'I say you should get a horse for your nephew's riding ; it need be no trouble to you whatever. Tam going over to Crittenden Fair next week myself to purchase one for my pupil; now, let me get one for your nephew also.' At first Sir Massingberd's countenance ex- pressed nothing but angry impatience, but pres- ently he began to rub the gun-barrel less and less violently. ' And who is to find the money ?' inquired he. 'I think that can be managed, Sir Massingberd. Mr. Olint will doubtless listen to such an appli- cation on behalf of Marmaduke; he will risk advancing a few pounds' 'For thirty-five gunies, one can geta very good pony,' observed the baronet reflectively. 'Or even for less,' returned Mr. Long drily ; and then, tomy excessive terror, he added in quite as loud a key: 'He wants to keep the dif- ference ; that's his plan'? 'And he means to do it, too, observed Sir Massingberd grimly. 'No, youneedn't apologise, parson, for your thinking aloud ; you don't sup- pose lam going to do anything without being paid for it, do you? Then there's the keep of the animal. Now, what will Mr. Clint allow me for that, do you suppose? Oats and beans are very expensive, and you wouldn't have me feed my dear nephew's pony upon hay !' Sir Massingberd was a formidable object at all times, but I really think he inspired more fear when he was pleased--when some wicked notion tickled him--than even when he was in wrath. 'T think, Sir Massingberd, the question of expense can be managed to your satisfaction,' said my tutor, not a little overwhelmed by having thus involuntarily expressed his suspicion of the baronet; 'and, as I said, I will save you all trouble by selecting the horse myself.' 'Certainly not, sir,' exclaimed Sir Massingberd savagely ; 'I suffer no man to choose my horses for me.' ' Vey good,' replied Mr. Long, biting his lip. 'Ihave only to stipulate, then, that, if your nephew, gets the horse, he is to ride it. I skall have to make myself answerable for that much to Mr. Clint' 'Oh, he shall ride it," quoth the baronet, with a horrid imprecation ; 'you may take your oath of that. And, by the by, since you are here, parson, I want to have some talk with you about that same fellow Clint, who has been behaving dvelish ill to me, I think.--You may go away, young gentleman, you may. You'll find your future riding companion--he has about as much notion of riding as old Grimjaw yonder--sulkin g in his own room, I daresay. Grimjaw, shew the young gentleman up to Marmaduke's room. At these words, a dog of horrible aspect came out from under the very sofa on which I sat, and He was the oldest and ugliest dog I ever belield. He had only one eye, which was green ; he had no teeth, and was therefore not to be feared 'as a combatant; but his aspect was loathsome and repulsive to the last degree. The people of Fairburn imagined this animal to be Sir Massingberd's familiar demon, and, until of late years,' when the crea- ture had become incapaciated Y age from ac- companying him much, the two were scarcely ever seem apart. Old as he was, however, the hideous Grimjaw had some instinct left, which, after the word 'Marmaduke ' had been once more shrieked at him, caused him painfully to precede me up to the oak staircase, and along another gallery to a chamber-door, at which he sat and whined. This was immediately opened by his young master, who, with a 'Come in, Grim,' was only giving suflicient space for the entrance of the dog, when I cried out laughing: ' What! have you no welcome for your friend? Like uncle, like nephew! What a pair of curmudgeons inhabit Fairburn Hall! The astonishment of Marmaduke at hearing my voice was excessive. Notwithstanding his pleasure, his first thought, as usual, was : 'Did Sir Massingberd know ?" ' Yes,' said I cooly ; ' of course he knows. He received me down stairs with his usual polite- ness. Mr. Long and he are conversing upon some private matters, soI came up here to see you. It is arranged that each of us is to have a horse, and that we are to go out riding together.' 'A horse! Oh impossible ! exclaimed Marma- duke, clapping his hands. 'How did the good parson ever persuade my uncle? What did he give him? I could not help laughing at this naive inquiry, which my friend had made in perfect seriousness. I told all that had occurred, including our tutor's viva-voce soliquy, at which Marmaduke cried 'Heavens!' in terror. 'It is marvellous, notwithstanding, that my uucle should have consented,' observed my companion musing. 'He told me, indeed, that L should be a great nuisance in the house this month, while his friends were down here shooting; but that. he should have entered into an arrangement which gives me pleasure as well as gets rid of me, that seems 80 very strange.' 'He has doubttess some base motive, returned I smiling ; let us console ourselves with that re- flection. But what have we here? Water color paintings! . Why have you never' told me you were an artist? 'I merely amuse myself with the paint-brush, I have had no lessons, of course, so that my perspective is quite Chinese.' : ' Nay, but I recognise almost all these scenes !' 'Well, you know, T have been 'iowhere else hut in Fairburn, so that it is from thence I must take my subjects... The one you have there is taken from the bend in the stream beyond the Heronry? 'It is admirable, said I; and indeed it was so like the scene of miy dream, that it gave me a shudder, -- 'Would you like to have it? replied Marma- duke carelessly.' You may take any that-the portfolio contains. I only wish they were more worth your acceptance.' 'Thank you,' said I nervously. I will cetain- ly take this one ; and I rolled the sketch tightly up, ail placed it in my pocket.' 'But here is a pret4? ¢.ce! Why Master Marmaduke, you have your secrets, I see; you have not mentioned to me this young lady. What beautiful hair! The eyes, too, how glorious, and yet how tender! It is surely not the lady whom we just met in the ar' 'Silence, sir!' cried Marmaduke, in a voice of thunder. His face was lurid with rage, and for the first time I remarked upon his forehead a faint reflection of the horse-shoe that made so terrible the brow of hisuncle. 'Do not speak of that wretched woman in the same breath with-- with'. He did not complete the sentence, but added in his usual soft mugical tones: 'Par- don me, my friend ; I am sorry to have been so hasty ; but that picture is the portrait of my mother." = * 'It was stupidin me not to have known that at once, said I. 'The likeness is most remark- able.' ' But not the expression,' returned he sadly. 'I know that just now I looked like one of my own race. She was always an angel, even when she was upon earth.' And the boy looked up with his hands clasped, as though he beheld her, through his tears, in heaven. 'Did you paint that from a picture, Marma- duke ? 'No, from memory. often see her sweet face.' I had evidently raised by my thoughtlessness a long train of melancholy thoughts in my com- panion.. The situation was embarrasing, and I did not know how to escape from it. As often happens 'with well-intentioned but blundering persons, [ made the most inopportune remark that could be framed. Forgetting what I had heard of the infamous treatment which Mrs. Heath had receiyed while under her brother- in-law's roof, I observed : 'Your mother was once at Fairburn, was she not? That should at least make the Hall more endurable to you.' Again Marmadnke's handsome face was dis- figured with concentrated passion. 'Yes, she was here,' returned he, speaking through his teeth. ' For what she suffered alone, the place would be cursed. Coward, scoundrel! Why does God suffer such mento live! It was terrible to see how like this young lad grew to the man he was execrating. . He went on using such language agI could not have conceived him capable of employing. 'Marmaduke,' said I soothingly, ' for Heaven's sake, be calm. Providence will one day reward this man ; it is not for you to curse him. Come, now that I pay you a visit for the first time, you should play the host, and. shew me over the mansion. Why, that queer old dog seems to understand what one says; he rises as though he weré the chatelain, and kept the keys of Doubting Castle. He brought me here 'as true as a blind man's cur. I cannot say, however, that he is beautiful; he is hideous, weird.' 'It would be strange, indeed, if he were like other dogs; returned Marmaduke gravely. 'He is the sole living repository of a most frightful secret. Ifhe could but speak, he could perhaps send a man to the gallows.' j 'What man ?' exclaimed Ii | Pray, explain to me this mystery,' 'I do not know what man,' returned my com- panion solemnly; 'I only conjecture. I will relate to you what is known of the matter, and you shall judge for yourself.' - Marmaduke opened the door, to 'see that no one was in the passage without, and then seat- ing himself close beside me, commenced as fol- lows: 'My grandfather and the present baronet Sleeping or waking, I lived on bad terms with one another, For the last ten years of his life, Sir Wentworth and his eldest son never met--but once--if they met at all. He had been very profligate and. extrava- gant in his young days; but in his old age he grew miserly. When my father saw him last, it was in a small house in Bedford Place in London, where he lived in a couple of ill-furnished rooms, and without a servant. Grimjaw and he slept there alone, but a charwoman came in every morning for a few hours, Sir Wentworth then gave itas his reason for this kind of life, that he was retrenching, in order to leave some suit- able provision for his second son, 'Look here, Gilbert,' said he upon one occasion to my father ; 'T have begun to lay by for you already ;' and he shewed him a quantity of bank-notes, amount- ing to several thousand pounds. He had never been an affectionate parent, or exhibited any self-denial for the benefit of his sons ;'and my father did not believe him, He thanked him, of course ; but he came away without any idea that he would be really better off at Sir Went- worth's death. This was fortunate for him, for he never received a farthing; but I am not so certain as he was that the baronet did not intend todo what he promised, While the old man was living in this sordid fashion, his son Mas- singberd was passing his time very gaily at court. He played high, and there were few who could beat him with the cards--but there were some. It is no use being a good player, you see, unless you are the best ; you only win from those whom. you can beat, to lose it in your turn to the man who can beat you. Thus it was with my uncle, who played, as I say, high with every- body, but highest, as is often the case, with his Superiors in skill. However, he paid his debts of honor with money raised at an enormous sacrifice. He lived well, but it was upon his future prospects. At last, being harder pressed than usual, he wrote to his father--the first letter he had penned to him for years--and demanded pecuniary help. Sir Wentworth wrote back a ceynical;harsh reply, a copy of which I have seen --for all these details came out in the course of the inquest. He bade his son to call upon him, and judge from his style of living whether he was, in a condition to comply with his request. He appointed a day and an hour--about five o'clock. It was in December, and quite dark of course by that time. At six o'clock on the appointed day, Sir Massingberd--for he had got his title by that time, whether he knew it or not--called at the police-station near Bedford. Place, and gave information that. the house which his father occupied was shut up, and that he could not obtain admittance, although he had arrived there by appointment. The house was always shut up, they told him, although not un- tenanted ; they could not explain why his sum- mons had not been answered. A couple of policemen ac¢ompanied him to break open the door. While they were thus engaged, a dog howled at them from the. inside. My uncle had made no mention of having heard this before. There was only one lock to force, the door being neither bolted nor chained, and they soon got in. The only two furnished rooms opened upon the hall. In the sleéping-room, they found my grandfather dressed, but lying upon the bed quite dead--suffocated, as the surgeons subse- quently averred. In the sitting-room, with which it communicated, they found this dog here, crouching on the top of the mantel-piece, which was very lofty. How he got there, nobody could tell; if he leaped thither, even from a chair, it must have been in an agony ofterror. He was whining pitifully when they entered ; but upon seeing my uncle, he ceased to whmper, and ab- solutely seemed to shrink into himself with fear. Poor Grimjaw could give ro witness at the in- quest, however ; so the jury returned an open verdict. - It was possible that Sir Wentworth oe had a fit of appoplexy, which carried him off.' Well, "said T,* enough ?' 'Yes; but it could not have carried off the bank-notes--which 'were all gone--likewise. Could it, Grimjaw ? Thus appealed to, the ancient dog set up a quivering howl, which might easily have been mistaken for the ery of an accusing spirit. "Good heavens! this is too horrible,' cried I. 'Be careful, Marmaduke, that you do not mention this toothers. It isa frightful slander,' 'Slander! returned my companion camly. 'It is you who slander, if you suspect anybody. I have only told you what everybody knew at the time the mur. well, then, when Sir Went- worth had his fit. The thing strikes you as it does me, that is all.' 'But is it not inconceivable,' urged I, 'if the crime was committed by the person we are think- ing of, that he should retain this dumb witness of his atrocity, that he should let it live, far less should keep it in his private sitting-room ' 'No! interrupted Marmaduke firmly. 'On the contrary, it strengthens my suspicions. You do not know the man asI do. It gives him grati- fication to subdue even a dog. This creature has no love for my uncle ; but its excessive terror of him, which endured for months, nay, years, has gradually worn off. He obeys him now ; whereas, I have been told; it was long be- fore it could do anything but shiver at the sound of his voice. After dinner, when I have been And is not that probable 'sitting with Sir Massingberd alone, he will some- times give the doga buscuit, saying with an awful smile: 'Here Grimjaw ; you and I know something that nobody else knows 3 don't we ?" 'Great heavens ! cried I in horror; ' and what does he do that for?' 'Because,' replied Marmaduke bitterl y, 'he loves to see me tremble.' CHAPTER Y.--THE STATE BEDROOM, Marmaduke: had searcely concluded his nar- ration, when 'steps: were: heard in'the passage, I daresay 1 turned pale at the thought of seeing the man of whom I had just heard such frightful things, for my companion observed, as if to re- assure me: 'It is only Mr. Long.' c ' Are you quite sure ? said I. Marmaduke smiled sadly. 'Do you think that I do not know my uncle's step? I should recognise it among a score of others, If he overtook me in a crowded street, I should feel that he was coming, and shudder as he passed beside me----- Pray, come in, sir, _{ Well,' cried my tutor, entering, radient with his good news, 'no more moping at .home, my lads; you are to be henceforth cavaliers--you are to scour the country. Boot and saddle !-- boot and saddle! Your 'uncle will not trust me to get you a steed, Marmaduke ; there are none good enough for you,. it seems, at Crittenden ; he is going to send to London for an animal worthy of you. But never mind, Peter; you shall have the best mount that can be gotin Midshire, and we will pit the country nag against the town.' My tutor's voice rejoiced me like a cordial: after the morbid horrors I had been listening to, his cheery talk was inexpressibly grateful, as the dawn and ordinary sounds of waking-life are welcome to one who has suffered from a night- mare, 'I was just about to shew Meredith the Hall,' said Marmaduke. 'Well, it is time that we should be at our work, like good boys,' observed Mr. Long, consulting his' watch; * but still, for one morning, it does not matter, if you would like to stay, Peter.' I would rather go home, sir,' cried I, with involuntary eagerness. I was sorry the next moment, even before I saw the pained expres- sion of my young companion. ' He has had enough of Fairburn Hall already,' said he bitterly. Then his face softened sadly, as though he would have said: 'Am I not therefore to pe pitied, who pass every day and nigift under this accursed roof?' ' Come, exclaimed Mr. Long gaily ; 'I do not believe Master Meredith in this new-born devo- tion to your books. Let us go over the house first. I will accompany you as cicerone, for I once knew every hole and corner of it--a great deal better, I will venture to affirm, than the heir himself here.' 'Every chamber on this floor is the fac-simile of its neighbor, said Marmaduke : 'since you have seen all--an immense bed, a piece of car- pet islanded amid a black séa of oak, a cupboard or two large enough to live in, and shepherdes- ses, with swains in ruffles, occupying the walls.' There was; indeed, no appreciable difference in any of the rooms, except with regard to their aspect. 'When I first came to Fairburn, I slept here,' continued Marmaduke, a¢ we entered an apartment looking to the north,' and had that long illness which you doubtless remember, sir. Heavens, what dreams I have had in this room! Ihave seen people standing by my bedside at night as clearly as I see younow. They called me delirious, but I believe I was stark mad.' 'Iremember it well, said Mr. Long, 'al- though I did not recollect that you occupied this room. How was it that you came to change your quarters ?" 'Oh, the doctor recommended the removal very strongly. Sir Massinberd said it was all Nonsense about the look out from my window, and that thenorth was as bad as the cast for ay boy in a fever ; but he was obliged to give. And I certainly benefitted by the change. The Park is a much more cheerful sight than that forest of firs, and one is glad to see the sun, even when one cannot get out of doors. At all events I had no such eyil dreams.' * Yet this is what always used to be held the state-chamber,' replied my tutor' Charles I, occupied that bed while he was yet king ; and before your ancestor Sir Hugh, turned Puritan --a part he was very unfitted to play--it is said he used to swear through his nose. Peter the Great, too, is said to haye passed a night here. Your dreams, therefore, should have been his- torical and noteworthy. I forget which of these smiling Phyllises is so complaisant as to make way when you would leave the room without using the door,' Two full-length female portraits were painted in panel, one on either side of the huge chimney- piece ; a circlet. of roses carved in oak surrounded each by way of frame, Mr. Long advanced towards the one on the right. and touched the bottom rose ,it did not move. He went to the other and did likewise ; the rose revolved 'in his fingers, and presently, with a creak and a groan, the whole picture slid sideways oyer the wall, disclosing a narrow flight of wooden stairs. 'That is charming,' cried I ; that is the Mysteries of Udulpho realised. Where does it lead to, Marmaduke? There was no answer. Mr. Longand I looked round simultaneously, the lad was ghastly pale. He stared into the dusty, gaping apeture, as though it had been a grave's mouth, 'Ido not know.' he gasped with difficulty. 'Not know?' cried my tutor. 'Do you mean to say that you have never been told of Jacob's Ladder? The foot of it is in the third bookcase on the left of the library door; the spring is somewhere in the index to Josephus. It is evident you never attempted to take down that interesting work, which in this case is solid wood. The idea of your not knowing that! and yet Sir Massingberd is so reticent ; and with the exception of Gilmore, the butler, I daresay nobody does know it now. It is twenty years ago since [made Phyllis move aside, to the as- tonishment of Mr. Clint, who came here on business with poor Sir Wentworth. I daresay nobody has moved her since.' 'Yes, yes,' cried Marmaduke passionately ; 'my uncle has moved her. Those visions were not dreams. I see it all now. He wanted to frighten me to death, or tomakeme mad. When I knew the door was fast locked, he would come in and stand by my bedside, and stare at me, Cruel, cruel coward!' 'Hush, hush, Marmaduke ; this is monstrous-- this is impossible !' cried Mr. Long, endeavoring to pacify the boy, who was rocking himself to and fro in an agony of distress and rage. 'See how you terrify Peter! Be calm, for Heayen's sake! Your uncle will hear you presently, and you know how- he hatas to be disturbed.' At the mention of his uncle, Marmaduke sub- dued his cries by a great effort, but he still sob- bed and panted, as if for breath. 'Oh,' moaned he, ' consider how I came hither from my dead mother's arnis to this man's house my only living relative, my father's brother-- and was taken ill here, a mere child ; then this wretch, this demon, my host, my------ Oh, Mr. Long, could you conceive it even of a Heath ? He came up to my lonely room by that secret away, nd stood without speaking by my pillow, while I lay speechless, powerless, imagining myself to be out of my mind!' "he had the wish. 'I do remember now,' said my tutor gravely 'how you harped upon that theme of your evil dreams, and how the' doctor thought you were in reality losing your reason. Let us be thank- ful, however, that you were preserved from so sad a fate; you are no longer a child now; Sir Massingberd can frighten you no more, even if It was a wicked hateful act, whatever was the motive. But let us forget it, Ina few years, you will be of age; then you will leave the Hall; and in the meantime your uncle will annoy you no more., It will be his interest to make a friend of you. Even nowy you see, he provides you with the means of ene joyment. You will ride ont with your friend whenever you please; and I will take measuresy so that you shall be. more with us at the Rectory, and less at this melancholy place, which ig totally unfit for you. Mr. Clint shall be spoken . with, if necessary. Yes, yes,' added Mr? Long, reversing the rose, and thereby replacing the shepherdess, but quite unaware that he was still speaking aloud, 'there must be a limits tor the power of such a guardian; the Chancellor shall interfere, and Sir Massingberd be taught 'Nay sir, cried Marmaduke in turn; 'for Heaven's sake, let no complaint be made against my uncle upon my account ; perhaps, as you say, I may now meet with better treatment. ,I will be patient. Say nothing of this, I pray you, . Meredith. Mr. Long, you know'. : 'Yes, I know all,' interrupted my tutor with excitement. 'You have a friend in me Marma- duke, remember, who will stick by you..I have shut my eyes and ears long enough, and perhaps toolong. If things get worse with you, my lad, do not forget that you have a home at the Rectory. Once there you will not return'to thig house again, I will give evidence; myself; I will '---- : 'Thank you, thank you,' replied eae hurredly.' All will now be well, doubtless ; but my uncle will wonder at your long del y--he will suspect something. I think it will be bet- ter if you left.' cp He led the way down the great staircase, throwing an involuntary glance over his shoul- der, as he crossed the mouth of the dark Passage leading to the baronet's room. 'This is a wretched welcome, Meredith ; some day, perhaps, Tmay take your hand at this Hall door under different circumstances. Good-bye, go bye! 2) And so we parted, between the tw > grim griffins. r pai 'Peter, said my tutor gravely, as we' went our way, 'whatever you may think of what has passed to-day, say nothing. I am nofiso ig- ° norant of the wrongs of that poor hoy asI ap- pear to be; but there is nothing for it but patience.' PY pe (To be Continued.) © «7 é ST e A Valley of Death im Java. The destructive agency of carbonic adid gag on animal life is well exemplified in certain places where large quantities are evolved froma the earth. ,The most striking instance, how- ever, is the celebrated valley of Java, which, if: any animal enters, he never leaves. The follow- ing interesting account is given by 'an eye- witness. 4 "We took with us two dogs and some fowls to. try experiments in this poisonous hollow. On arriving at the foot of the mountain we dis- mounted and scrambled up. the side, about a quarter of a mile, holding on by the branches of" trees. When within a few yards of the valley ~ we experienced a strong, nauseous, suffoeating smell, but on coming close to the edge this dis- agreeable odor left us. The valley appeared to be about half a mile in circumference, oval, and the depth from thirty to thirty-five feet; thé bottom quite flat; no vegetation ; strewed with Some very large (apparently) river stones, and the whole covered with the skeletons of human beings, tigers, pigs, deer, peacocks, and soar of birds. We could not perceive any vapour or any opening in the ground, which last appeared to us to be of @ hard sandy substance. It wag now proposed by one of the party to enter 'the valley, but at, the spot where we were. thi difficult, at least for me, as one false step have brought us to eternity, seeing" n ance could be given. We lighted our ci with the assistance of a bamboo we wen within eighteen feet of the bottom... Here we did not experience any difficulty: in breathing, but an offensive nauseous smell annoyed us, We now fastened a dog to the end of a bamboo eighteen feet long, and sent himin. 'We had our watches in our hands, and in fourteen ge- conds he fell on his back, he did not moye his limbs or look around, but continued to breathe eighteen minutes. We then sent in.ano er, or rather he got loose and walked in to where the dog was lying. He then stood quite still, andin ten minutes fell on his face, and never afterwards moved his limbs; he continued to breatheiseven minutes. We now tried a fowl, which died in a minute and a half. We threw in another, which died before touching the ground. Durin these experiments we experienced a heavy shower*of rain, but we were so interested by the "awful sight before us, that we did not care for getting wet. On the opposite side, near a large tene, was the skeleton of a human being, who. must have perished on his back, with his right hand under his head. From being exposed to the weather, the bones were bleached as white ag ivory. I was anxious to procure this skeleton, but an attempt to get it would have been mad ness."----N. Y. Observer. te ' eset es Het There are 5,600 miles of Submarine 'Telegraph in Europe. a The Rothschilds*haye arranged. for the, pur- chase of all the Italian Railways. _ ee Another international fight is to take between Jem Mace and Joe Cockburn, It is said that Maximillian will confer titles of nobility on many of the Secessionists wha, ac- company him. eh aes, The first line of Railroad has been opened in New Zealand, between Christchurch and Heath- coate, in the settlement of Canterbury. & lage The Ladies' Committee in London ale ready forwarded $2,300 to Copenhagen, foF the wounded Danes and the families of the fallén .