The Brecon Reporter and South Wales General Advertiser

THE WORSTED TRADE AND THE PARIS EXHIBITION, A deputation from the Bradford Chamber of Com- merce have just presented to the council )f that body a report in reference to those departments of the Paris Exhibition which concern the worsted trade for the Bradford district—viz., wool, machinery, tops and yarns, woven fabrics, and dyeing and finishing. Of machinery they state that for general purposes the best looms shown are, beyond comparison, those by trie well-known makers of the Bradford district, the demand for which for exportation continues from every foreign country competing in the production of worsted yarns. Of tops and yarns, the report states that there are exhibited in large quantities, especially by France, every description, except alpaca, which they do not as yet succeed in spinning. In Roubaix mohair has recently been spun to a very small extent, and con- siderable progress has been made in spinning the coarse wools on the mule, and the better numbers on the English throstle frames. But, though the Roubaix spinners are evidently paying great attention to the spinning of a long wool, they have not yet attained the Bradford standard. Franee. however, preserves the same superiority in the spinning of fine yarns for all wool goods which England shows in yarns for mixed fabrics, and is closely followed in this respect ty Germany. Of woven fabrics the report states that hranee clearly maintains her long-established superiority in the finer all-wool plain goods, and this, not by the in- troduction of any special novelty since 1^62, but by the cheapness and beauty of fabrics produced in merinos, reps, poplins, &c. And it is also equally evident that in mixed Bradford goods, France, though not, perhaps, approachiu ut more nearly than she did in some few things t, -it 10 Aown in 1862, yet has made an approach e 1\11; t.• j ■ general and on a vastly larger scale. 01. r) j* Itvever, it may be said, firs' that her \v «' 3 exceedingly similar in colouring ano U 11 o those of this district and secondly5, to at mere is no means of applying the final test of prices, inasmuch as no prices are given that are of any avail in making a comparison, But it must at the same time be recognised that Roubaix, the. Bradford of France, has displayed great energy and skill in competing with goods admitted under the commercial treaty. Indeed, it is stated on good authority that Roubaix has increased her ma- chinery fivefold since 1862. Her success proves in the most striking manner both the advantages of a whole- some competitive stimulus and her ability to hold her own market without the adventitious aid of a pro- tective duty of 10 per cent. Of dyeing and finishing the report states that, as to the dye and finish of mixed fabrics, the same observa- tions apply as to the manufacture of these goods, and there is nothing in the Exhibition superior in these respects to the dye and finish of the goods shown by the Bradford Chamber of Commerce. The deputation express regret that there is no effort on the part of the Bradford trade, which have great facilities to do so, to compete to supply all-wool goods, some of which, as produced by France, have obtained a remarkable hold on the English market since 1862, and also express gratification at the fact that, notwith- standing the remarkable progress made under the Commercial Treaty in France, as illustrated by the trade of Roubaix, they had discovered nothing in the Exhibition to indicate a probability that Bradford was likely to be distanced in the production of mixed Brad- ford goods as a matter of skill and taste.

THE VALUE OF IMPUDENCE. Of all the qualities with which the beginner in society can be endowed, this is, without any question, the grandest, the noblest, and the most valuable both to its possessor and to the rest of his fellow-creatures (remarks the Owl.) Known to various men by various names, such as dignity, honour, self-respect, confidence, &c.. it is honoured and admired by all, and may be traced running like a. golden thread through the who]", web of society, giving it all its lustre, and adding in- calculably to its beauty and splendour. Were this thread to be drawn out the fabric must at once lose all its value in the markets of the world, if, indeed, it did not fall in pieces altogether. It is, properly speaking, less a quality itself than the life and soul of all the other qualities. A young man may start in life with, the gift of tongue, an undoubted place in the country, a head of hair, and a tenor voice, but though he may reserve his choicest converse for the dowagers, may ark the best men down to shoot, may go to church twice on a Sunday, and may even give his voice to be abused in afternoon concerts, yet, unless he shows in each and all a dash of the sovereign quality of impudence, he will not be one whit the better but rather worse off, for he will thenceforth be recognised as a creature to be made use of and treated accordirgly. For the want of impudence he will be mortified by seeing better men than himself preferred before him upon every possible occasion. He will never shine at a dinner-table where there is a brilliant talker he will never be introduced to the first flight of girls when there are a sufficient number of smarter young men to provide for them he will be mounted on a second-rate hunter whenever there is a better rider to be put upon the best; in short, he will be ridden over in the row, looked over in the streets, and talked over in the drawing-rooms in a manner which will be characterized far more by truth than by compliment, and that solely in consequence of the knowledge that he lacks the one defensive arm of impudence. There are other men who generally de- vote their gifts of impudence to the purpose of push- ing." and many may be recognised by an insatiate desire to bless with their society those who neitiier know nor desire them. Let them but meet you at dinner, and they will thenceforth let you know that you are bound to ask for cards for them for all the balls to which you go yourself, and will insist on being introduced to all the useful people with whom you may be never so slenderly acquainted. They will invite themselves to dine with you at the club, dictate the choice of liquor, abuse your salad, smoke your peculiar cigars, and at last leave you in contempt for a ball to which your want of impudence has prevented you from being invited. The spectacle which such great spirits present cannot fail to be pleasing and edifying, and it is pleasing to find that it never fails to receive the admiration it merits.

DANGLERS. (From the London Be-viev;.) Amongst the many trials and troubles which the mother of daughters is obliged to undergo before she can dispose of her charges, there is no greater grievance than that which arises from the species of male which may be fittingly described under the above heading. Of course, in the ordinary husband-chase there are many blinks which must be anticipated from the very nature of the pursuit, but the dangler is an imper- tinent and an unreasonable obstruction, for whose existence no sound reason can be assigned, and whose mission, if he has any, would seem to be simply to thwart the best laid schemes of match-making women. The dangler generally gets into a house as myste- riously as a black beetle. Like other domestic nuisances he comes with some one else, and it is to a friend of the family that most owe the admission of this disturb- ing creature into their dining-rooms and confidence. The dangler is a young man not eligible, but who appears eligible, and who pretends to a desperate s&nsibility of so contagious a character that the best trained daughter in the world will sometimes share the complaint with him. He has; however, no serious intentions, and no visible or attainable prospects. hen he has been discussed and inquired into, and the verdict passed upon him as matrimonially undesi- rable, there is as much difficulty in shaking him off as there is in getting rid of a bad habit. Nothing frightens him more than being formally accepted. He regards a rejection as a simple "not at home,' but as no more. He has made up the little he possesses of mind to a determination that hanging around the skirts of girls, trifling with their duties, and distracting them from their main pursuits, is the most delightful occupation under the sun. He will run anywhere to dangle after a woman. He will even sooner attach himself to old ladies than to none. And yet he is not of that useful and angelic tribe of messenger beans—carrier pigeons—fetching dogs, who at a-word will bring or take or run according to directions. The dangler is seldom put in for an office of this kind, and he never volunteers his help on any occasion except it fits with his own proper convenience, comfort, and favourite amusement. Then he is a per- petual source of irritating curiosity to those whom he inveigles into being concerned about him. They never fluite determine how to deal with him, If he is cut direct the difficulty is solved at once but that is a clumsy and not always a safe method. If he can be induced to dangle elsewhere, the very association of his name which remains after his flitting interferes with the market value of what he has touched. The dangler is a masculine flirt of a puny kind. He is as unnatural as a male dancer and as worthless. He is without courage or principles; but then he never claims either. Society has made him, and society is responsible for him. There is this, however, which the dangler forgets. He was originally kept in hands for his own sake, then tolerated, or used as a foil; and it is a gross perversion of the privileges he enjoyed to assume a distinct role of his own, and to set up as it were on his personal account. The dangler is not only a terror and a torment to mothers, but he is often an abomination to married men with young wives. It is from the stuff of which he is composed that the cavalier setrvente of the Con- tinent is made. Although the latter peculiar institu- tion is not publicly popular in this country, it is im- possible to deny that it is altogether unknown or uncultivated amongst those who seek the consolations of Sir J. Wilde. In nine cases out of ten, the per- plexities which engage the judge of the Divorce Court arise out of the manners and customs of danglers. The dangler is more dangerous to gay wives than to lively spinsters. The former use him freely, and find a certain pleasure in keeping him by them but the latter are either bewildered and puzzled, or half angry and half pleased, at his attentions. That sin which we never forgive when it is discovered, is not, it should in fairness be said, an object or aim of the dangler. He does not follow a married woman with the deter- mination of asking her to run away with him, but purely as a pastime, and a graceful, pleasant occupa- tion. He dislikes the violence and tumult of a genuine guilty passion, almost as much as he dislikes the sympathetic disturbances of an honest sentiment. To be calm and unruffled, to disown earnestness in everything, is the creed of the dangler. He is not in the least engrossed when he apparently pursues a lady. It is his art, however, to seem as if he were. He has generally a small income, which enables him to get on well enough as a club bachelor. His tailor trusts him conveniently. He has not a particle of real ambition or desire to figure in the world. His ideas are con- tained in the smallest compass, and represent the merest trifles, which other men discard with the fop- pishness of three-and-twenty. The dangler, however, never grows old in sense. He can only become an old boy, and from that stage advance to second child- hood. Unlike the genuine old boy, he is not thoroughly vicious-he is a mawkish and insensate fool even at his pleasures, for he can only bring himself to sip them. Want of decision is the basis of the dangler's dis- position. It causes him to dread marriage, and to flutter for ever over the sweets he dare not pitch upon. Amongst men he is a nonentity. He has no part in affairs which demand skill, energy, or perseverance. He shrinks from contact with real work, like a sick school-girl. His opinions are vacant, and only escape from not being thought idiotic by the number of idiotic opinions which sane persons are allowed to hold with- out question. The dangler is a fool, in short, of the worst quality. If he only went in for religion, for capturing beggars, for dancing at theatres, for reform, or for music, one might see at least an energy thrown away but in the dangler there is a hopeless and a colourless impotence for which there is no compensa- tive eccentricity. Even with women he is not success- ful. Silly women like him at first, but discover him after a time clever women, when they find he has no money, despise him for his stupi- dity, although they would easily forgive his stupidity if his banker respected him. Fortunately, danglers are not over frequent. There are many young men, and young old men, who approach from one side or another the peculiarities of the type, but happily only a few comparatively represent it com- pletely. The dangler is both a noodle and a duffer, and he never knows it. A joke falls off his hide as a spent musket-ball would off the hide of a rhinoceros. 3 Ie is the laughing stock of his friends, and he has no enemies. He is despised too much to be hated and yet so entrenched is he in the stronghold of his own conceit, that he is far from being miserable or dejected. He walks about in utter unconsciousness of what is thought or said of him. He would not believe for an instant that he was either barren or good for nothing. Society is too well bred nowadays ever to give such information to a man to his face, and the dangler therefore never suffers the chance of hearing the truth. When the dangler dies no one regrets him. He is of that class that disgust and turn aside even the affection of a mother, which he is incapable of comprehend- ing or reciprocating. It is cruel and pitiable to reflect that such creatures are the result of our modern social system, but every artificial system, and, indeed, every system must have them. Mr: Lewes, in a clever criticism on the Duke of Argyle's Reign of Law," in the current Fortnightly, tells us that there are beings apparently born only to exhibit and demonstrate the growth of cancer-cells. Analogically, we may consider the dangler as born to de- monstrate and exhibit the growth of moral cancers upon the social body. He is nearly as bad as the street evil, despite his neatness and secrecy. It is possible that the new era will kill him. If, as we suspect, a current of free thought and healthy impulses passes into our veins by the calm revolution of the Reform Bill, we shall probably find that the danglers have disappeared before it as midges would before an east wind. They are partly of foreign extraction, and France has ever been renowned for her danglers but in England their doom is certain. Already there is an inclination to detect these impostors and to proclaim them. It is better even that women should sell them- selves for money than marry fellows of this constitu- tion, who, ricketty, mean, and affected, are unable to love or to hate, to act or to think.

THE AGRICULTURAL EMPLOYMENT BILL. In the House of Lords, the other evening, the Earl of Shaftesbury, in moving the second reading of the Agricultural Employment Bill, said that the subject had already undergone considerable discussion. He had thought that the matter was ripe for legislation, and especially that some legislation was required as regarded the working of females in gangs. There had been a strong disposition manifested to apply the terms of the Factory Act to the agricultural districts, but on consideration that would be found to be totally im- possible, because the condition of society in the two cases was so very different. Still there were certain principles in that measure from which they need not depart, but which would be equally applicable to both classes of the population, and especially was this the case with respect to the limitation of age at which children should be employed; and provision was made in the bill respecting the exclusion from employment of girls under 13 years of age, and forbid- ding that any girl under 18 should be employed in any gang. The question was doubtless surrounded with con- siderable difficulty on account of the difference between employment in the large towns and in the agricultural districts. He had introduced into the bill for their lordships' consideration some of the regulations con- tained in the Printworks Act, which he had introduced some years ago, and had provided that in the course of the year a certain number of hours should be passed in the work of education. There would be difficulty in reducing this to practice, on account of the distance of schools 0 in the agricultural districts, and the incon- veniences connected with attendance upon them, and he thought it might be well to leave the matter to the jurisdiction of the magistrates assembled in quarter sessions. He should ask their lordships to read the bill a second time with the view of affirming its principle, though he did not intend to push it further during the present Session. The question of the mortality among boys and girls, whether occupied in agricultural or manufacturing pursuits, was one of great importance, and the exposure of girls employed in agriculture, who suffered much from the vicissitudes of the weather, had a tendency to increase disproportionately the mortality. He had submitted this question to the- opinion of the most eminent medical men in London, and he was informed that girls of thirteen were de- cidedly too delicate to be exposed to hard work at so early an age, and that they were far less able to pass through it than boys of the same age. But apart from the inferior strength of the girls, there were other reasons why those under thirteen should be ex- cluded from consta.nt work-such early labour exposed them to moral taint, and unfitted them for the domestic duties they would afterwards be called on to perform. He knew, indeed, that education in many parts of the agricultural districts was given to a much larger extent than was very often supposed. The difficulty was frequently not so much to give educa- tion as to sustain it afterwards. People sometimes talked of the agricultural labourers as if they were the greatest boors on the face of the earth. The agricul- tural labourer was called upon to do a kind of duty which was not only for his own benefit, but for that of the country at large. Let those who spoke so depre- ciatingly of the agricultural labourer go down and see him engaged in digging a trench and observe what skill he displayed or in following the plough, and observe the intelligence, steadiness, calculation, and judgment with which he performed hia work, and then say whether such a man did not fully deserve to be called a skilled labourer. He thought that every ex- ertion ought to be made to give as much education as possible, especially when young, to those who were to be engaged in agricultural work. Evening schools were, doubtless, of very great use, where they could be rendered available, but the great distances which had to be traversed among a scattered population did much to detract from their usefulness. Again he wished their lordships to approve the principle of the bill by giving it a second reading and he trusted that earnest and persevering efforts wonld be made to give the agricultural classes such an education as would enable them to perform satisfactorily their duties in life both as members of the community and as Christians. The Earl of Stradbroke admitted that the gang system prevailed to a small extent in the districts be- tween Bury and Cambridgeshire but said tha,t it did not extend throughout the county at large. So far as the county of Suffolk was concerned, they were not unprepared to carry out the proposed system. Lord Lyveden, whilst admitting the soundness of the principle of the bill, believed that its details were very ill-considered. He thought that the provision that no girl under 13 should be employed in agricul- ture was too stringent, for if they were not employed in the open air they would be confined in small and ill-ventilated cottages. It was quite right to provide against boys of a tender age being overworked but he thought that with the present deficiency of agricul- tural labourers they could not provide that boys should not be employed, unless educated, until they were 13. Again, to provide that boys should only be-employed in the case of their being educated in accordance with bye-laws made by the justices, would be pressing the matter too far. They could not do this without com- pulsory education, or without parents being induced to send their children to schools of which they disap- proved for the sake of procuring them employment. The Earl of Kimberley could not agree that the bill was an ill-considered one. The principle was to ex- tend the Factory Acts to agriculture, and the argu- ments against the measure were those which had been unsuccessfully used against the factory Acts. He thought that it might be unjust to require that a child should be educated before it could be employed in cases where there was no school within a moderate distance, He did not think that dissenters would much apjvove o Jthe bill, because it would, in many instances, hold out a direct inducement to parents to send their children to church schools, and this diffi- culty seemed to be a serious one. As to the labouring in gangs he thought that it was more likely that Parliament might be induced to legislate. He thought that it was most objectionable that young girls should labour in the fields when they should be at school; and he believed that such Inborn- tended to brutalise them. He thought, however, that boys should become agricultural labourers at an early age, so as to become accustomed and hardened to their work. In his opinion the limit of nine years would have been a better one. He believed that the time was coming when the whole question of education should be reopened. The question was rot one affect- ing merely agricultural labourers, but it involved the question whether the towns shornd continue to be sup- plied with an ignorant population coming from the agricultural districts. After a few words from the Earl of Shaftesbury in reply, the bill was read a second time.

GARDENING OPERATIONS FOR THE WEEK. (From the Gardeners' Magazine.) Kitchen Garden.—During dry weather clear off exhausted crops of peas and beans, and dig the ground deep, and manure liberally. During showtry weather plant out winter greens of all kinds. Be careful in transplanting not to bruise the leaves of the plants. Celery has been teribly tormented with fly, but is now recovering. If it be possible to give water, do so liberally, and you will be well repaid for your trouble. Early planted out crops may now be earthed up, but do this when the plants are quite dry. Endive to be sown again, and strong plants in early seed-beds to be planted out. Shallots should be taken up as soon as the bulbs are ripe if left in the ground they will be injured by the autumnal rains. This remark applies especially to damp and low-lying soils. Spinach.—Make ready a sufficient number of beds for the winter crop as soon as possible, in order to be ready to sow early in August. The soil should be rich, and the position chosen, if possible, should lie high and dry. Cauliflowers and Broccolis can be got put now on ground cleared of peas and beans. Trench deep, and mix the manure with the soil, so that it is evenly dis- tributed throughout the mass. Onions lifted may in a few days be taken up and laid in the sun to dry. If the weather is wet, spread them in a shed, or on some dry mats in spare frames. In some country places they finish off the onions for storing by placing them in a baker's oven after the bread is drawn. This is a very good plan, and a pretty certain remedy for bull-necks, and a green soft con- dition but it is not likely any crops will require to be artificially ripened this season. Hoe versus Water-Pot. —Hoeing is one of the much neglected operations of which few have considered the value, and to keep down weeds is generally the sole object of using the hoe. Certainly that is a good object, and if these observations quicken the vigilance of gardeners who are a wee bit careless upon the growth of groundsel, couch, and bindweed, and other rampant weeds among their crops, it will serve one good pur- pose. But it must have frequently come under the notice of practical men that a piece of cabbage or cauliflower frequently hoed between, even to the ex- tent of working the instrument very near their roots, always grow to finer proportions than similar breadths left to take care of themselves, with the ground trodden between to the hardness of a Babylonian brick, to keep the moisture in and the heat out." In such a case it is made evident that there is a virtue in the hoe beyond the killing of weeds that rob away the nourishment required by the crop and if the problem of their well-doing is to be solved by observation, it must be at daybreak, when every leaf is loaded with dew. Then it will be seen that ground recently hoed or pointed over with a small fork, is uniformly moist, while hard ground adjoining the same plot is almost as dry as during the beat of a sunny day. The solution is simple enough. The rough open surface absorbs a large amount of dew, not simply because it is broken, but because it presents a greater extent of radiating surfaces, for the deposition of dew depends on the radia- tion of heat at the immediate surface, and the subsoil need not and will not be colder than the subsoil of hard ground, although it has a greater power of sur- face radiation. In fact, ground frequently hoed becomes warmer from its more ready absorption and conduction downwards of solar heat, so that the roots of the plants are kept warmer and moister in broken ground than in close hard ground, and therefore the vigorous growth of vegetati< >n i- promoted. Prominen ce has been given in English journals to the conclusionsof M. Duchartre on thedisposition and effect of dew upon plants, as reported on in the last number of the Annales des Sciences Natnrelles and for the expe- riments so carefully conducted and so ingeniously devised M. Duchartre deserves the highest praise. But in the conclusions there is nothing new. We have ourselves frequently ndicated to gardeners that the chief benefit of dew to plants arose through its absorption by the soil for the nourishment of their roots. It comes to this, that if you cannot soal, the ground with water, you ha^e only to break the surface and it will soak itself. The more heat by day the more dew by night, the more cloudless the sky the heavier the deposition of moisture between sunset and sunrise. M. Duchartre's experiments show that if the dew is allowed to settle on the leaves of plants, and not on the soil in which their roots are, they gain no- thing in weight, whereas when the dew is allowed to condense on the soil they gain considerably. A plant weighing 969'50 grammes was so placed that the soil in the pot had the full influence of the dew, and it had gained in weight when the dew was removed thirteen grammes. Another weighing 1034 95 grammes gained 6'90 grammes. In other experiments where the soil in the pots was hermetically sealed, there was not only no gain of weight by dew. but a positive loss, which goes very far to prove that plants do not absorb much moisture by their leaf surfaces, and may perhaps give a new turn to our ideas on syringing. But let that pass we will not throw away the syringe yet awhile. Plants with hard waxy leaves, such as Veronica Lind- leyana, certainly do notf absorb much, but they need to be kept clean; and plants with porous loaves, like I the vine, do absorb largely, and may be kept alive for some time with the roots dried up, if the leaves are frequently wetted. But the hoeing is the matter we wish our readers to think about and act upon. The hoe is an irrigator of as much value to the English gardener as the shadoof is to the wretched cultivator of millet on the banks of the Zab or Tigris and where people are wasting their strength in conveying hogsheads of water, which are often more harm than good, the labour might in most cases be saved, the ground kept clean at the same time, and the plants encouraged to push their roots about in search for nourishment, by the use of the hoe, and the hoe alone. Take notice of a rhubarb leaf the midrib forms a depressed groove, and the leaf slopes up on each side of it, somewhat in the fashion of the two sides of a wooden water-shoot. The upper surface of the leaf-stalk is channelled too, and all night long the leaf distils dew from the atmosphere, the water trickles to the mid-rib, and thence finds its way by the channel of the stalk direct to the heart of the plant, for the benefit of its roots and rising leaves. This is the way nature makes almost every plant its own ir- I rigator we must co-operate with nature, and by the use of the hoe assist the soil also to drink freely of the dew of heaven, that we may enjoy thereby the fat- ness of the earth. Roses may now be struck in any quantity to secure fine plants on their own roots. Make up a few frames —if with gentle bottom-heat, all the better, but that is not indispensable. There must be six inches of light rich soil in which to dibble the cuttings. Choose short half-ripe shoots for the purpose, and keep them shaded and frequently sprinkled. Bedding Plants.—Begin at once to maleet up lists of sorts likely to be required next year, in order to have time to propagate. Put in geranium cuttings in plenty; an open border suffices for them, but keep them regularly watered until they begin to make roots.

WE HAVE DONE OUR BEST. We certainly have exerted ourselves for the Sultan. We have freely accorded to him all the honours that the most ambitious and most jealous of his Imperial brothers could expect at our hands. He has been lodged and has held Court in the Palace, under the shelter of his own flag, and has been escorted to and fro as the Sovereign is escorted only on the greatest occasions (remarks The Times.) Her Majesty, with an effort which her subjects will gratefully appreciate, has entertained him at Windsor, and invested him with a Christian Order, a century older than his own throne, in the presence of her own navy at Spithead. That Review was on a scale to make it an event in our history, and the Review of our Volunteers and House- hold Troops at Wimbledon was hardly less remarkable. The City of London has done all that a wealthy and hospitable city can do, and more than it has done for a long succession of illustrious strangers. The Indian Government has received the Sultan in a manner befitmg the Empress of India, and the Sovereign of nearly as many Mahomedans as even Abdul-Aziz holds under his sway. The great palace of the people at Sydenham has taxed all its energies and resources to do honour to the Sultan, and to show how the West can vie with the East in its own taste and fashion. The Sultan has seen our great dockyard and arsenal—those of our public exhibitions that have alone a world-wide fame and character. We had to do much, and so had our visitor. It is not in mortal man to apprehend, to appreciate, and to enjoy all the grandeur, all the merits, all the art and science, all the military and naval resources, the magnificent hospitalities, the municipal dignities, the private enterprise, the most remarkable achievements, and the general happiness of a great people in ten days. No brain can expand of a great people in ten days. No brain can expand to the effort, no senses take in distinctly the over- powering mass of impressions. Perhaps in mercy, but certainly to our own great disappointment, almost every spectacle has been more or less marred. Wind and rain prevented manoeuvres both at Spithead and at Wimbledon. But these were trifles to the calamity which fell on the Sultan's own Representative, and which nmst sadden all recollections of the Indian Ball. While Empires have been exchanging good offices, and the Kings of the earth have been gathered together in token of peace and progress, the course of human affairs has not been interrupted; the elements have not been hushed the shaft of death has not been averted all things have gone on as usual, for good or for evil,

A WITCH STORY. The following is from the Argosy for J uly here was once a beautiful woman lived there-away,' began Ericson. But I have not room to give the story as he told it, embellishing it, no doubt, as with a mere tale it was lawful enough to do, from his own imagination to make it the more acceptable to Mysie. The sub- stance of it was that a young man fell in love with the lady, though he knew she was a witch. And she let him go on loving her till he cared for nothing but her. Arid then she began to kill him by laughing at him for no witch can ever fall in love heiself, how- ever much she may like to be loved. And she laughed at him and mocked him till he was nearly dead. Then he drowned himself in a pool on the seashore. And the witch did not know that; but walking along the shore, looking for what things the sea might cas iup that would be of service for her wicked arts, she saw his hand lying over the edge of the rocky basin in which his body lay. Now, nothing is more uscfu to a witch than the hand of a man, especially if he has come by an untimely death so she went to pick it up. When she found it fast to an arm she would have chopped it off, but when she saw who it was, for one reason or another best known to witches, she would draw off his ring first; for it was an enchanted ring which she had given him to help to the bewitchment of his own fatal love, and she wanted both it and the hand to enable her to draw to herself the hve )f a young maiden whom she hated. But she hail her- self already bewitched the dead man and si the dead hand closed its fingers upon hers, and held her, and all her power was powerless against the dead; and the tide came rushing ip like a hungry beast, aud she was drowned, and nobody went near her to help her. And her body lics to this day with that of her lover at th( bottom of the Swalchie whirlpool, and before a storm comes, strange moamngs rise from the pool, as if the lover were praying for the witch lady's love, and she, having none to give, were praying him in her turn t< let go her hand."

THE DEATH OF THOMAS FRANCIS MEAGHER. Advices from America inform us that General Thomas Francis Meagher. Secretary and Acting Governor of Montana Territory, fell from the deck of the steamer Thompson, at Fort Benton, on the evening of t'hp; 1st instant, and wa, swept away by the current, and drowned. M'' had been absent for the last tort- night on public business, ftpd had succeeded in pro- curing arms for the troops engaged in the defence of the territory, and transacting other military business demanded by our present exigency. At the latest aC- counts his remains had not been found, the darkness of the night, and the rapidity of the current prevent- ing any rescue. He was born at Waterford, Ireland, on the 3rd of August, 1823. At the early age of 23 he was regarded as one of the leaders of the Yotfng Ireland party which seceded from the followers of O'Connell. In 1848 he was one ( f the delegates sent to congratulate- the French Republic. He took an active part in the movements of the Yountr Ireland past v in 1848, waS: arrested, and sentenced to death. The sentence was commuted to banishment for life to Van DiemanS Land, from which he escaped, and landed in NeW York in May, 1852. He was received by his country* men with great enthusiasm. In J8(il he raised a com- pany and joined the 69th Regiment. New York State Militia, under General Corcoran. He acted as major at Bull Run, and after the return of the regiment he raised a brigade and was commissioned a brigadIer- general of volunteers, Feb. 3, 1862. In 1865 he was appointed secretary of the territory of Montana, and for some time has been its acting governor. 'Sf.¡i.

AN ALGERIAN STORY. The following sensation" sketch is from a recent number of the British Army and Navy lleview entitled" Under TWO Flags He died this way, did Rirepour-tout! Dieu de dieu a very good way too. Send us all the like when our time comes We were out y< lider (and he nodded his handsome head outward to where the brown, seared plateaux and the Kabyl mountains lay). We were hunting Arabs, of course,—pot-shooting rather, as we never got nigh enough to their main body to have a clear charge at them. Rire-pour-tout grew sick of it- This won't do,' he said 'here's two weeks gone by, and I haven't shot anything but kites and jackals. ■* shall get my hands out.' For Rire-pour-tout, as the army knows, generally potted his men every day, he missed it terribly. Well, what did he do? he rode off one morning and found out the Arab camp, and waved a white flag for a parley. He didn't dismou but he just faced the Arabs and spoke to their Sheik, 'Things are slow,' he said to them. I have come for a little amusement. Set aside six of your best warriors, and I'll fight them one after another for the honour of France, and a drink of brandy t,) the conqueror.' They demurred; they thought it unfair to « him to have six to one. Ah,' he laughs, you haV? heard of Rire-pour-tout, and you are afraid Thal put their blood ut>: they said they would fight before all his Spahis. Come, and welcome,' Rire-pour-tout; 'and not a hair of your beards shal be touched except by me.' So the bargain was ma"( for an hour before sunset that night. Mort de DltU s that was a granddiiel ?' He dipped his long moustaches again into another beaker of still. Talking was thirsty work the story was well-known in all the army, but the piou-piou, having served in China, Wa new to the soil. The General was ill-pleased whew he heard it, and half for arresting Rire-pour-touti but—sacre !—the thing was done; our honour waS lTId volved; he had engaged to fight these men, and for us to let them go in peace afterwards there wa no more to be said, unless we had looked like cowards* or traitors, or both. There was a wide, level plate in front of our camp, and th'e hilJs were at 0 1 backs-a fine field for the deullo and, true to ti e, the Arabs filed on to the plain, and fronted 11 in a long line, with their standards, and the crescents, and their cymbals, and reed-pipes, aD kettle-drums, all glittering and sounding. papier there was a show, and we could not fight OW of them We were drawn up in a line—Rire-pour-t°u all alone, some way in advance, mounted of course* The General and the Sheik had a conference the" the play began. There was six Arabs picked out-tlle flower of the army-all white and scarlet, and in their handsomest bravery, as if they came to an aouda. They were fine men-diable /— they were fine men. Now 'the duel was to be with swords; these had been selected and each Arab was to come against Rire-pour-toU singly, in succession. Our drums rolled the p^s charge, and their cymbals clashed they Fantasia and the first Arab rode at him. Rirej pour-tout sat like a rock, and lunge went his s^eer through the Bedouin's lung, before you could cry h°-" —a death-stroke of course Rire-pour-tout alW^Jj killed that was his perfect science. Another, tn d another, and another came, just as fast as the blooat flowed. You know what the Arabs are-vous autres it how they wheel, and swerve, and fight flying, pick up their sabre from the ground, while the1 horse is galloping ventre a terre, and pierce you her » and pierce you there, and circle round you like so TnaI11> hawks? You know how they fought Rire-pour-to1' then, one after another, more like devils than Mort de Dieu J it was a magnificent sight ? He ( gashed here, and gashed there but they could unseat him, try how they would; and one another he caught them sooner or later, and se» r them reeling out of their saddles, till there was a greaL red lake of blood all around him, and five of them dead or dying down in the sand. He had mou»K afresh twice, three horses had been killed undernea1, him, and his jacket all hung in stripes where the ste had slashed it. It was grand to see, and did heart good but—ventre bleu !-how one loiigecltot" in too. There was only one left now a young the Sheik's son, and down he came like the wind. thought with the shock to unhorse Rire-pour-tout, finish him at his leisure. You could hear the cr» as they met like two huge cymbals smashing together- Their chargers bit and tore at each other's manes, they t were twined in together there as if they were but 00 man and one beast; they shook and they swayev' and they rocked; the sabres played about tbeJJ heads so quick that it was like lightning as they flashy and twirled in the sun; the hoofs trampled up ttlj sand till a yellow cloud hid their struggle, and out it, all you could see was the head of a horse tossi^' up and spouting with foam, or a sword-blade lifted strike. Then the tawny cloud settled down a lit'W » the sand mist cleared away; the Arab's saddle Pflr. 17 empty, but Rire-pour-tout sat like a rock. The Chief bowed his head. It is over Allah is greaV8 And he knew his son lay there dead. Then we br<-> from the ranks, and we rushed to the place where tjV chargers and men were piled like so many slaughter g sheep. Rire-pour-tout laughed such a gay ringlU" laugh as the desert never had heard. Vive la France he cried. And now bring me my toss of brandy Then down headlong out of his stirrups he reeled fell under his horSe and when we lifted him up were two broken sword blades buried in him, and blood was pouring fast as water out of thirty WOUp and more. That was how Rire-pour-tout died, o 91 piou, laughing to the last. Sacrebleu! it waS splendid end I wish I were sure of the like."

LOSSES AT SEA.The marine disasters ° American vessels during June amounted to thirty vessels, valued at 908,500 dols. There were lost th* steamers, three ships, four barques, six brigs, and fotlj teen schooners. This is a great falling off as comp^'g with the previous months of the year; for the 1 of& during May were 2,585,800 dols.. and no month New Year falls under 1,900,000 dols. During the months just ended there have been 301 Americ^ vessels lost, valued at 14.072,300 dols., as comPafL with 294 vessels, valued at 15,091,800 dols. during tli same period of 1866. j A SURGEON IN FEMALE ATTIRE.—The trihUJLL of police of the canton of Vaud, Switzerland, been engaged in try ing a young man named PiquiU" charged with having for some time past prac^ ted medicine and surgery in female attire. It app.^gjf that he had succeeded in completely disguising hi "of as a woman, and had obtained, under the Miss Abbots, and in the quality of an AmerlC.ceg admission into several families, offering his ser^ijf'' chiefly to ladies. The fraud was detected by a oD, dresser to whose shop he went to purchase a chiff11^ It was found that he could only be convicted 01 illegal exercise of his profession, and on that coun^ court condemned him to one month's A