The White Cloud Review from White Cloud, Kansas • 2

PICTURES ON THE WINDOW. WOULD MAKE GOOD BRICKS. earth the crowd that walked by the river bank havo all gone and the whole scene has changed. The railroad has been taken up, and the train of cars has given place to a hearse in which is a coffin. Al1 the happiness I saw there an hour since has fled, and nothing now is left but tears and panes! The little cascades, rivulets, and brooklets have run into the lake, in which I can see a few mounds covered by fiends, leaping and grinning at the general ruin! The angels have departed, but all over the window are the tears they shed at my miniature world! The tree so laden with fruit has been trimmed of its branches till it resembles a man who has lost his friends, and from whom hope has fled a twisted, ugly, deformed trunk, fast settling into the general destruction.

Now all is gone! trees, plants, birds, angels, demons, rivers, animals, ships, implements, men, cities, deserts, mountains all all have melted a few tears being all that is left of what was once so beautiful. Thus will pass tho world away the spirit passing on. As some men can by one action sweep out a life of honor and happiness, so has the consuming sun in one hour, swept away the labors of an entire night, leaving us but the lesson to enjoy tie beautiful while it is with us, and that when the ballroom of life gives way for tho room of weeping, we may merit tho tears of at least one solitary mourner, who in our departure to the land of the Leal has lost from the present at least one devoted friend to sit and think of us after we have passed tho line of life's final Saturday night. Foineroy's Advance Thought. children with their playmates, lovera with their hopes; and dancing, grinning devils following after, overtaking here and there a poor jctim who had been abandoned because of his taken-on-lading.

There were rivers lying between banks lined with bending grass, or lofty trees, bluffs reaching so high that it seemed as if their tops were piercing the dome of heaveu. Groups by the fireside bands of angels crowds of spirits intervening and interlacing with each other, were pictured out with the greatest accuracy, by the frost workers on the window, There wore solitary farm houses, silent graveyards, lonely chambers, and deserted prisons. There was a battle-lield, on which could be seen soldiers engaged in deadly strife with weapons now Hashing in tho sun warriors, on foot and mounted, rushing hither and thither horses, plunging over the forms of the dead and the dyinggroups of soldiers bearing off a wounded comrade officer leading their forlorn hopes soldiers kneeling in prayer or writhing in agony; engaged in hand-to-hand conflict, and standing sentinel on tho outpost squads of men beside cannon, in front of which lay wreaths of dead and wounded officers1 tents regiments of men not yet called into action. 'Over this field hovered ravens and angels, while on it could be seen women guarding and nursing those dearer to them than life itself. God bless women, the best of all gifts to man and humanity.

Every artist from the spirit world must have been engaged here last night. There were implements and machines of all kinds. A printing-press standing beside a guillotine a cradle bemeath a gallows a violin and case of surgical instruments lay side by side on a card-table a cannon oh which was a pipe of peace, stood boldly forth a broadsword and. quill pen hung suspended from the same hook a pleasure carriage and an artilery wagon stood ready for use, while in the distance was a railroad on which was a train made up of cars, stages, high back cutters, wheelbarrows, stone boats, Chinese ploughs, and Indian dug-outs! And each was perfect, as though these were the patterns from which every thing of the kind had been fashioned. We could see them all flow the lortoisaBur rows.

Hero and there, but rarely porhaps in one amid a hundred of these mounds, we' find the place where the reptile' entered the ground. This opening is once seen to be quite separate in character from the mounds which first attract the eye. It consists of a clearly defined tunnel, the sides commonly somewhat smooth and compacted by tho energy with which the body of the creature ha3 been driven through it. The passage inclines steeply downward, descending at an angle of from twenty to thirty degrees, then taming at the depth of two or three feet to a rnoira horizontal position. On tho surface, a little beyond this entrance, is a heap of debris, which consists of the sand taken from the passage.

A few feet in from tt Opening, the passage appears to bo OAficd by loose material which was not ejected from the mouth of the tunnel. Although I have been unable to catch these tortoises at warn, I have succeeded by tolerably safe inferences iu tracing their method of operation. When they begin the burrow, they endeavor at once to penetrate downward to the level in which they obtain their food. At the outset they manage, by frequently backing out of the pass-ago and thrusting the earth behind them in their retreat, to clear a considerable opening. When they have ad-vanced a few feet in the excavation, they cease to discharge tho material excavated in their advance, but thrust it behind them, and leave it lying in the chamber, which it entirely closes.

With this storage room provided, tho gophers are able to advance through the earth for the distance of some yards; but as the earth compacted by its own weight, by the pressure exercised through the expansion of roots, and tho action of the rain, occupies less spaco than the same material loosened in tho progress of the burrow, they soon become hampered in their movements. They then turn toward tho surfpce and-continue the excavation upward until they have attained very nearly to the open air. They then use the great strength which they possess to thrust a quantity of the burrowed material upward until' it rises above the surface in Little Tommy's Ideas of His Father and His Property. A rich man was taking a walk in his brickyard with his little hoy one morning, when tho following conversation took place: Tommy What sort of a place is this, "This, my boy, is a brickyard." "Who does it belong to?" "It belongs to me, my "Does that big pile of bricks belong to you, too, pa?" "ICS, lominy, id belongs to me. "Do those dirty looking men belong to you, too, pa?" "JSo, my son, in this glorious land of liberty there can bo no slavery.

They are free men." "Why do they work so hard?" "I don't know, my son." "Does anybody steal what they make?" "Of course not, Tommy. How do you come to ask such questions?" "But, Pa, don tho bricks belong to tliose men who make them?" "No, my son, they belong to "What are the bricks m.ide of, paP" "Of clay, Tommv." "What! Out of hat dirt?" "Yes, Tommy." "And nothing else? "No, TYmmy." "Who does the clay belong "To me." "Did you make it?" "No, my son, God made it." "Did God make the clay specially for "No, I bought it just as I buy any thing else." "Did God soli the clay to the man you bought it from?" "I don't know, Tommy. You ask more silly questions than I can an swer." "It's a good thing you own this clay, ain't it, pa?" "Why, Tommy?" "Because if you didn't you would have to work like those dirty men. Will I have to work when I get to be a man?" "No; I will leave you all my proper ty when I die." "When these men die won they all turn to clay?" "Yes; we all turn to clay when we die." "When are you going to die, pa, pretty soon?" "I don't knoAv, my son. Why do you ask-?" "I was just thinking what a nice lot of bricks you would make after you are dead." A Sensible Russian.

The celebrated Russian painter, Ver-estchagin, who is now exhibiting his pictures in New York, and who created such a sensation by his alleged sacrilegious paintings, once received a decoration. Tho Czar bestowed on him the Cross of St. George, which is only given to those who distinguish themselves in war. Vercstchagin happened to be in a little town which was besieged by a large force of Turcomen. The little Russian garrison was in danger of being overwhelmed by the enemy.

Vercstchagin seized a. musket and laid out many a picturesque Turcoman, whom ho would much rather have painted. He distinguished himself in the sortes made on the enemy for the reason, as he put it, that he didn't care "to be left behind. The Russians managed to hold out until reinforcements arrived. Some time afterward Gen.

Kaufman called on the artist and told him that the Czar had given him the Cross of St. George. "What do I want with St. George's cross?" "That's neither here nor there. The cross is here and you must take it.

Vercstchagin refused to take the cross, and Gen. Kaufman, taking out his pen knife, cut a slit in tho breast of Verest-chagin's coat and fastened the cross on his breast. "There, you have ruined my only coat," said the artist. There was no help for it; hp had to accept the decoration. He said it was a warning to him never again to give up tho brush for tho musket.

Texas Sittings. A Smile or Two. He "Doesn't it make you dizzy to swing in a hammock?" She (frankly) "I don't believe I could be any giddier than I Burlington Free Press. An exchange says it knows a grocer who is supposed to be tho honostest man in tho world. lie chases the flies off the beam of his scales before he allows them to balance.

Smithville News. A young lady in this city who teaches a Sunday school class of eight-year-olds recently asked them the question, "What is an altar?" "I know," said one irresponsible; "it's where they burn insects." Augusta Journal. "Yes, it is true that young Mr. Sokcr does drink too much; but wo can look over that, as he is such a fine, gonial, whole-souled fellow." "He will need to bo half-soled before long, and ho is badly worn out." Now York Despatch. "Bil.crt Klsinerc." Husbana 'Robert Elsmerc' is getting talked tibout moro than any book I know of." and it isn't a bit naughty, either.

1'vo read it through from preface to finis." Washington Post. by "brick'' fomeroy. The spirits and fairies of the wondrous kingdom of frost held high carnival in our street last night, and this morning the windows presented one of the most heautiful sights I ever beheld. Whilo those indoors were chatting1 or sleeping winter had Bet its spring patterns for Summer work, and how delicate were the touches and tracings of the magic pencil! One window in particular, at which I have been long looking, presented a wondrous picture and moving panorama of frost art. It seemed as though a convention of angel artists had been summoned by the dying winter king, and, by the light of the aurora bofcalis, had made him a picture of such magic beauty that no one uould look upon it without feeling to do them homage.

There were the bold, heavy strokes of some rough old frost spirit who de- lighted in making mountains, rocks, cascade, and doer) ravineSj as some independent mortals like to make and leave their marks on the varying face of creation and the created. There stood the work of less dashing artists, delighting in the production of plains, livers, oceans and deserts. Then there were panes filled with bristling and glistening forest deep and dark with wood rivaling the famed Bois do Boulogne with prairies and deserts stretching off into the distance, as run the lives and lines of the pioneers, till in touches so delicate that the breath of a spirit even, must drive the work away. There were sketches by still gentler artists of birds, of plants, of flowers, and a thousand beautiful fancies, spread like the divine breath of angels who whisper of God's love to the world. There were the choicest, most delicate embroideries, rivaling the finest Honiton, so neatly woven, of so line a texture, and of such handsome patterns that it seemed as if the wedding lace and bridal veils of angels had been stolen from their heavenly wardrobe and placed on the window before to teach him his utter insignificance.

The entire panorama of sea of earth of heaven and of eternity lay spread out there and countless thousands of more beautiful pictures were presented than artist ever saw in his most golden dreams. (lilies, teeming with life; streets illlcd with horses, carriages and crossing, passing, and repassing each other; blocks of stores, in the windows of which could be seen all that makes up the wardrobe of the most fashionable lady or gentleman or the coarser habiliments of poverty. There were blocks of tenement houses, the roofs broken in and walls toppling the doors, 'unhinged and windows shattered leaning and nodding toward each other as if mocking at the misery of their inmates! There were cities silent, and deserted, with battered walls, crumbling houses, ruined churches and streets, looking silent and filled with rubbish. There were cities filled with handsome residences, splendid parks, in which were fountains churches built after a score of architectural designs, the spires losing themseves in the midst of countless glittering stars, each pointing to heaven, where reside the sources of inspiration. Groupes of people, flocks of birds of water-fowl, and herds of horses were to be There were trees growing up straight and handsome, the upper limbs heavy with foliage trees gnarlod and twisted as is the lifo of those who make themselves friendless trees laden with suggestive tropical fruits trees in whose branches could bo seen beautiful feathered birds trees under which could be seen- lovers fondly reoliriing-7-trces in, which sei-pents were writhing and swinging from branch to branch, and trees beneath which were groups of cattle, apparently enjoying the shade a capricious puff of wind had thrown from the thickly-woven branchs! how beautiful! and how deep and high and wide the picture.

Mountains reared their loftly summits till the highest peaks seemed lost in the ante-chamber of heaven, and adown whose sides hung frozen cascades. There were towers rivalling Bunker Hill, the Washington monument, the lca.ning tower of Pisa, or the tower of Babel! There were plains on which deer, wild horses, cattle, and buffalo roamed and raced and sported in all their native freedom, as goes the thoughts of those who love God and wish all of mankind well. Flower gardens had been cultivated there, appar ently so perfect that on tho different variety' of shrubs and plants could be seen leaves, stems, flowers and buds, with humming-birds and-butterllies lightly hovering thereover. There were sullen forests, interlaced with walks and filled in with tangled thickets, from which protruded heads of wild boars, of tigers, of hyenas, of toads, of serpents, and of devils! I hero were little water-falls leaping from rock to rock or pouring over abrupt cliffs, los ing themselves in the spray which fell on tho tree-tops below, or rising in a cloud of 6tars, glittering like diamonds 'ncath the rays of tho rising sun, that arose to see what night had wrought. Then came lakes and oceans, on whoso bosom could bo seen ships sail ing smoothly along, or plunging madly over the rolling waves before a tempest that seemed to bo fairly howling.

Ihere wero rivers covered with various craft, along whose banks walked students with their books, philosophers with their thoughts, speculators with their plans, hypocrites with their promises, On the Beach Last Summer. HE. "Belle, f've sought you all the morning I return to town to-day; Pardon, if I give no warning, There is something I must say." SUE. 'Sought so long You must be weary Are you ill? You look quite pale When you go life will be dreary Well, I'm ready for your tale." he. can't keep it back no longer; Belle, 1 need you hi my life Will is strong, but love far stronger; Dear one, will you be my wife" "Be your wife Your words seem braver Thau they seemed in days of yore But your love would surely waver; Now, as then.

Please say no more." HE. "All, you jest Though once I faltered, Failed your heart to comprehend, Never once my feelings altered, Not alone did 1 offend." snE. "Was I fickle in those hours? Ah, perhaps 'twas better so: 'Mkl the scoro that owned your powers My poor heart was quite do trap HE. "So it ends, then? I have spoken Words that live until I die And you smile while hearts are broken Belle, God bless you dear Good by 1" sun. nod by I could always tease you 1 Take my hand before you go; And, if it would really please you, Keep it, Jack, for weal or woe." -Life.

ORIGIN OF CHAMPAGNE. The Discovery of the Effervescent Beverage Purely Accidental. Champagne was discovered or invented by accident, like so many other things, says a writer in Lippincott's Magazine. About 1063 one Perignon was cellarer in a Benedictine convent in Ilautvillers, Champagne. Providence had evidently marked him out for that position, and bestowed on him a strong head and a discrimmniating palate.

The products of the neighboring vineyards were various, and, like a I rue Benedict, Bom Perignon hit upon Ihejidca of "marrying'' the various wines. He had noticed that ono kind of soil imparted fragrance, another generosity, and discovered that a white wine could be made from the blackest grapes which would keep far better than tho wine from white grapes. Moreover, the happy thought struck him that a piece of cork was a more suitable stopper than the flax dipped in oil which' had heretofore served that purpose. His wine became famous and its manufacture extended throughout Champagne. Then he happened upon a still greater discovery how to make an effervescent wine, a wine that burst out of the bottle and overflowed the glass, whoso fragrance and exhilarating qualities were doubled by this process.

At that time the glory of tho Roi Solei was on the wane, and with it the splendor of the court of Versailles. Tho king, for whose special benefit liqueurs had been invented, found a gleam of his youthful energy as he sipped the creamy-foaming vintage that enlivened his dreary tete-a-tete with Mmo. Main- tonon. It found its chief patrons, now' ever, among tho band of gay young roysterers, the future roues of tho regency, whom tho Due d'Orleans and the Due do Vendome had gathered round them at tho Palais Royal and at Anet. At one of tho famous suppers in the latter place tho Margin a of Sillery who had turned his sword Into aprun- mg-knifo and devoted himself to tho cultivation of his paternal vineyards-first produced the wino which for two centuries has made his namo famous among wine-drinkers.

At a given signal a dozen blooming damsels, scantily arrayed as Bacchanals, loaded the table with bottles. They wore hailed with rapture, and henceforth champagno be-camo an iudispeisible adjunct to all petite soupcrs. the form of a cone, and by the space in the burrow thereby gained they are able to go a few feet further in their tortuous line of advance, when they must again seek to discharge a portion of the earth in the manner just described. Popular Science Monthly. A Piece of Truth that was Refreshing.

The Rev; Dr. S. II. Vincent, who was elected in May a bishop of the Methodist Episcopal church, is known everywhere as one of the thoroughly good men of his calling and time. Ho is also known to be full of patriotism and loyalty.

A story is told that he was once traveling in a car with Zachariah Chandler, of Michigan. Mr. Chandler had been recently in personal controversy with L. Kl. u.

lamar, wno nau asserieu in Chandler's presence, what ho afterward repeated on the floor of the United States senate, that no man in his hearing should call Jefferson Davis a traitor and go unrebuked. Mr. Chandler's rejoinder had been a denunciation of Davis as an infamous traitor, the denunciation being coupled with tho sulphur and brimstone adjectives for which he was noted. It came about on tho car that Senator Chandler, telling Dr. Vincent of the southern spirit in Washington, related what Lamar had said.

"And -what did you reply?" asked Dr. Vincent. "I trust that your answer gave him to understand that there was a man in his presence then with fearlessness to proclaim the truth." "Now, seo here, Doctor," said Senator Chandler, with a quiet laugh, "whatever I said was sufficient for the occasion, you may sure of that. You know me well enough for that. But I think you also know my weakness, and will understand that what I said, would hardly bear repeating from a pulpit." Dr.

Vincent s' eyes flashed as be rejoined with pleasure and emotion: "I knew it. I felt it. Don't repeat it. Don't repeat it. But it's so refreshing to think you said it." New York Tribuap.

Jlultnni in l'arvo. How to make money Get a situation in the mint. Here to-day and gone to-morrow Tho man who borrows a five-dollar bill from you. A capital drawing The annual interest on $100,000, U. S.

bonds. Talk is choap But not the talk you hire a lawyer to do for you. The lover of cabbage is usually a cigar smoker. The rich man has his mug at tho barber's shop. The poor man take his there.

A man with a long head novor has a swelled one. When a man becomes the father of a baby ho is delighted. When he becomes the father of twins he looks grave and mutters, Gemini!" The man who always says what he thinks is one of tho men in this world who could well bo dispensed with. Boston Courier. They Always Bo.

"You'cr an angel!" said ho unguardedly. "No, I'm not," she responded with conviction. "I'm a woman, and I want a new winter suit beforo tho snow flies, sure." Somervi lie Journal. Capt. Harrison in Command.

"Nevergiveuptheship!" It is bettor to go right on board and tako command, especially if it is tho ship of statu. Picayune as articles in the road and the fields of the present and future all in one. There wero crowded hall-rooms pic nic parties roaming through grottoes, and resting in sylvan like retreats and hidden try sting-places. There were farm scones and city scenes. There were sportsmen on the plain in full pursuit of buffalo soldiers on horses chasing flying Indians hunters in the forest standing beside a tree, or kneeling be hind a log, waiting the approach of a deer, seen in the distance, snuffing danger from, afar! Everything that man could think of was here, so beautifully designed, so boldly commenced, so lightly finished, so perfect and so varied that it seemed as if the entire panorama of eternity had been spread before those who chose to witness the magnifi cent display.

There were libraries filled with books carriages filled with people stores filled with goods air filled with birds faces of men, women, and children, filled with joy, hope, fear, love, hate, doubt, sorrow, anguish, remorse, and despair heavens filled with angels, firmaments studded with stars, each scene glittering under the rays of the morning sun with a far greater brilliancy than ever shone from pearl or diamond. Beautiful and mysterious! I ha ve just been in to look at the win dow again, and such a change! My stars have all disappeared; tho delicate tracings making the foliage of the forests have all melted down. The beauti ful plant?) arc stripped of their leaves and flowers, and look more like straws, broken and twisted into a Uiousand ugly shapes! The pretty little humming-birds and butterflies have all molted and are not to be seen! Tho birds, that looked so beautiful half-hidden among the lea ves of the trees, are flown, and the little twigs on which they aV surrounded by flowers, have been transformed into wet, cold graves! The beautiful pines, from the drooping boughs of which hung such beautiful snow; draperies a few moments since, have teen breathed on by a passing breeze, and now stand there, gnarled and twisted trunks, devoid of beauty or interest. The splendid embroidery is not to bo seen; but where it was so artistically draped, and elegantly displayed, hangs something that looks like a shroud! The crowded room in which an hour since so many were has grown larger, but the dancers have departed! Where tho orchestra was, is now a coffin, with a solitary mourner kneeling by its side, her head bent in weeping, hex feet bathed in tears! God bless the. solitary one, wherever she may be! The pretty walks and borders in the Bois do Boulogne have given place to sloppy gutters, down which the molten frost is coursing! The mountains are dwindling down the plains on which so many bluff wore seen, are still there, but oh! how changed! Tho ships havo gone to the bottom of the lakes and oceans, while tho oceans are also disappearing! The river that looked so beautiful an hour since is still to bo seen, but it is now tho river of death! It's swelling waters have flooded tho flowery hanks have swept down tho little craft that' floated so securely there not long since, and are now climbing and washing up against tho sides of tho blulT! Tho bat tle-field has been drowned in tear, and all that remains of its glittering soldiery, and thirst for glory, isablunk! Tho spires have gone from the churches tho cities have been drowned out the streets are little Holland canals the doer uud hunter havo sunk into the.