CROMWELL JOCKEY CLUB.

Cromwell Argus, Volume V, Issue 245, 21 July 1874, Page 6

CROMWELL JOCKEY CLUB.

A meeting of the Committee of the above Club was held on the evening of July 17, in the Town Hall. There were present, Messrs Preshaw (president), Jolly, Daw kins, Dagg, Wrightson, Gudgeon, Goodger, Starkey, Kidd, Marsh, and Pierce. The minutes of last meeting having been xead and confirmed, applications were opened Tor the office of Secretary to the Club. There were two : one from Mr G. Jenour, and the other from Mr James Marshall. A ballot was taken, and the result was a tie (Mr Pierce had left the room). On the casting vote of the President, Mr George Jenour was declared elected.

Offers for the use of a room for holding Committee meetings, and for other purposes of the Club, were then opened. The offer of Mr Thomas Heron, proprietor of the White Hart Hotel, was accepted, on the terms proposed by him. On the motion oc Mr Dawkins, seconded by Mr Dagg, Messrs Starkey, Wrightson, Preshaw, and the mover wt.ro appointed a Committee to arrange and draw up a programme for the approaching Spring Meetiiur, lobe submitted to a meeting of the Committee to be held on 21st August. It was agreed that the sum to be given by the Club for the Meeting in question should not exceed L.70. Mr J. P. Cowan was elected a member of the Club ; and the proceedings concluded with a vote of thanks to the chair.

The Value of Water Supply. A good index to tho value of water-supply oil gold-fields has been furnished by a statement which was lately supplied by Mr George Donne, member of" the Nelson Provincial Council, on the authority of one of the bank agents in the district of Charleston. The figures show that, during the prevalence of dry weather, and in the absence of a watersupply such as the Government is now endeavouring to provide in other districts, the miners are seriously interrupted in their work, while, in the form of gold duty alone, the Colony, or the particular Province in which it is collected, sustains a considerable loss of revenue. The following figures, procured by Mr Donne, exhibit the loss sustained in this way during the short period of four months of comparatively dry weather ending in April, 1873: Gold purchased at Charleston by various Bunks during six months ended December, ISV2 (at 775. per ounce), 15,000 ozs; value, £57,750. Monthly average, 2500 ozs. ; value, £9626. (During the above six months the supply was ordinarily good, although, of course, not equal to the demand.) Gold purchased by the Banks during four months, .January to April, 1873 (at 775. per ounce), 4000 ozs ; value, £15,400. Monthly average, 1000 ozs. ; value. £3850. (During the said four months the water-sup-ply was bad, and. totally inadequate.) Monthly average, water-supply, ordinary : 2500 ozs.; value, £0025. Monthly average, water-sup-ply, bad : 1000 ozs.; value, £3850. Total failing off in monthly average owing to scarcity of water, 1500 oya ; value £5775 ; equal to a loss of £23,100 for the four months during which the supply of water was bad. Lowest estimated loss to revenue nor month (at 2s. per ounce), 1500 ozs. ; value, £l7O ; or, for the four months, £6oo.— Gray l!i<-er Argus. Information reached the police to-day that the body of a woman who hid been drowned wns found about three hundred yards from the SUverstream Bridge by Mr Bennett Duncan, coach propifetor, it was floating {close to the bank. Cub Inspector Mallard immediately despatched Sergeant Bevau to the spot.—-Mar, 16th instant.

Tlollowo.y's Ointment a7i-l Pills.—Move, precious thau Gold.—Diarrhoea, dysentery, aw I olio]era are, through the summer's heat., carrying off the young as tin winter's cold destroyed" the ami. In the most acute cases, where internal medicines cannot b:s retained, the greatest relief will immediately result from rubbing Hollow-ay's soothing Ointment over the abdomen. The friction should be frequent and brisk, to ensure the free penetration of the Unguent. This-, will calm the excited peristaltic action, soothe the pain. Both vomiting and griping yield to it; when fruit or vegetables have originated the malady it hj pro- ] or to cleanse the bowels by a moderate- dose r r tlolloway's Pilla before using the Ointment.

I Government Immigration. Writing from Wellington to Dr Featherston, under date May 7th, Mr Vogel speaks in the following strong language regarding tho character of the late shipments : " I must impress upon you that the character of the class of immigrants now arriving in the Colony is » source of very great anxiety to the Government, and is creating great uneasiness in the Colony. I have already been officially informed that the shipment by the ' Asia' to Dunedin includes a number of girls out of the Cork workhouse, some of whom are notoriously loose. I am cabling you on the subject, drawing your attention to the report of the proceedings of the Cork Board of Guardians, a copy or prkis of which the Superintendent of Qtago lias telegraphed to me at my request, and of which I enclose copy. It is evident, by that report, that these _ women were sent because the Board despaired of their adapting themselves to a useful life at home. It is difficult to believe that you could be unaware of the published proceedings of your agent, the woman Howard, whom, by-the-by, you seem to have employed after informing me that you would not do so, vide your letter No. 551; of 29th November, 1872. At another Board meeting, a copy of report of which I also enclose, legal proceedings were actually threatened in your name , to enforce the completion of the miserable bargain entered into by Howard. I endeavour to think that you knew nothing about the matter; but, if so, how singular must be the organisation of your department, that, with a proceeding so publicly canvassed in the place, with a ship calling off the town, and, it is to be presumed, some of your officers in attendance to see the emigrants off, you should have to be informed from New .Zealand of what occurred under the immediate notice of your officers. I find it impossible to adequately characterise the indignation such a shipment produces or the alarm which is felt at the intention which is apparent of sending further similar shipments."

Singular Fulfilment of a Dream. A prominent subject of discussion at th.o Epsom Spring Meeting was Lord Vivian's dream in connection with the City and Suburban, the particulars of which, as detailed to us, are well worth repeating. Dropping oil' to sleep again after waking early on the morning of the race, Lord Vivian dreamt that ho was in the weighing room at Epsom, and was awoke by his friend, Sir Samuda, entering at the moment, and remarking, " That was a fine nice— only won by a neck, I should think !" " You don't mean to say the City and Suburban 's over !" exclaimed his lordship. To which Mr S. replied, " Yesr, it is ; ; and The Teacher has won !" At breakfast Lord Vivian referred to the morning papers to see wha*, the The Teacher was, but could not find a horse of that name among the entries ; and by a remarkable coincidence thti very first person he recognised at Waterloo Station was Mr Samnda, who, after hearing the narrative, cleared up the mystery b}' explaining that The Teacher had been renamed Aldrich to distinguish him from a filly of the same name and age. Lord Vivian thereupon made up his mind to back Aldrich for L. iOQ, and told Lord Roseberry of his intention ; but the latter advised him not to do so, for the very satisfactory reason that the horse had been beaten each time he was tried, consequently Lord Vivian only took 1030 to 30. But many others " backed the dream," including the owner of Oxford Mixture, who pot well out of the race in consequence. The most singular part of the story is that the horse in question really won the race. — European Mail.

The Greymouth tftar thus neatly refers to a recent matrimonial venture :—" In another place we announce the marriage of Mr Sale, formerly Commissioner at Hokitika, to a lady named Fortune. It is not surprising that a lady with such an attractive title should secure a ready Sale in the matrimonial market, and we sincerely congratulate the gentleman in having succeeded in reducing the number of Miss Fortunes that alas are too numerous in this world."

The " Loafer in the Street," writing in the Canterbury Press, says :— " You remember the hairless horse perhaps. I have a good story about him. Caoutchouc was being exhibited in Nevada, and an individual wearing an old-fashioned coat with capacious sidepockets came to see him. The exhibitor kept his eye on this party. He saw at once that he was no common visitor. He saw in the man's eye a gleam of cunning and speculation. Watching him closely, he observed him handling the tail of the horse in a suspicious manner with Ins left hand, while in his right he held a bottle. The alarm was quickly given, and the man was caught as he was rushing out at the door. It was supposed that he had I intended disfiguring the horse with some strong acid, and he was about to be given in charge to a policeman, when some one pulled the bottle from his pocket, and it war, found labelled 'White Sage Hair Restorer.' The follow proved to be the agent of this wonderi fill article. He said all he regretted was that he had not just got one gill of the hair rc- ] storor on the animal's tail. It would have been ten thousand dollars in his pocket, he said, as in less than a fortnight the horse would have had a tail that would have swept the ground. No man with a bottle in his uoclcct iR now allowed to go near the hairless horse, lie is at once set down as a disguised agent of the great hair restorer. Anyone perusing the above narrative will allow'that wo don't know much about the art of advertising here vet."

Men and Manner in Parliament. (From the Gentleman's Magazine.) Mr Disraeli's manner in the House of Commons is one strongly marked, and is, doubtless undesignedly, calculated to increase the -personal interest which has for more than a generation been taken in him by the public. Either because his colleagues do not care to chat with him, or because he discourages private conversations in the House, Mr Disraeli always sits apart in a sort of grim loneliness. Mr Gladstone is, except when Tie sleeps, rarely quiet for a moment, frequently engaging in conversation with those near him, often laughingly heartily himself, and being the cause of laughter in his interlocutors. When Mr Disraeli enters the House and takes his accustomed seat, he crossea one leg over the other, folds his arms, hangs down his head, and so sits for hours at a time in statuesque silence. "When he rises to speak he generally Tests his hand for a moment on the table, but it is only for a moment, for he invariably endeavours to gain the ear of his audience by making a point at the and the attitude which he finds most conducive to the happy delivery t>f points is to stand balancing himself upon his feet with his hands in his coattail pockets. In this, position, with his head hung down as if he were mentally debating iiow best to express a thought that has just occurred to his mind, Mr Disraeli slowly utters the polished and poisoned sentences over which he has spent laborious hours in the closet. Mr Bright is a great phrase-maker, ■and comes down to the House with the gems ready cut and polished to fit in the Betting of a speech. But no one could guess from Mr Briglifs manner that the phrases he drops in ■as he goes along are fairly written out on a "slip of paper carried in his waistcoat pocket as he crossed the bar of the House. He has the art to hide his art, and his hearers may well fancy they see the process of the formation of the sentences actually going on in the mind of the orator, all aglow as it is with "the passion of eloquence. But the merest tyro in the House knows a moment befores liand when Mr Disraeli is approaching what [ lie regards as a convenient place in his speech for dropping in the phrase-gem he pretends to have just found in an odd corner of his mind. They see him leading up to it; they "note the disappearance of his hands in the 'direction of the coat-tail pockets, sometimes in search of the pocket-handkerchief, which is brought out and shaken with a light and ■•careless air, but most often to extend the •coat-tails, whilst with body gently rocked to and fro, and an affected hesitancy of speech, "the speaker produces his bon moi. For the ■style of repartee in which Mr Disraeli indulges—which may be generally described as a sort of solemn chaffing, varied by strokes of polished sarcasm, this manner is admirable, in proportion as it has been seldom observed. fae Story of a Thames Mine. (Thames Advertiser.) We have heard many curious stories of the ■vicissitudes of gold mining—those ups and downs of fortune which every man must inevitably suffer if he enters upon mining enterprises of any kind, but more especially in the case of gold mining—and probably one' of the most remarkable instances of the Ireaks of the famous goddess of fortune is to "be found in the case of the Manukau mine at the Thames. The history of this mine is ■worth recording, especially as the, story is full of hope and encouragement to those who have become thoroughly disheartened by that "'hope deferred" which is sure to make the stoutest heart sick if too long endured. We all know that in the lottery of quartz mining at the Thames there are many blanks, "but the prizes, when they are obtained, are ■generally brilliant in the extreme; but it "rarely happens that the famous goddess smiles twice upon the same persons, as she has done upon two of the fortunate owners of the Manukau mine.

The M&nukau mine comprises a very small urea of ground, of not quite one acre in extent, situated near and bounded by the Caledonian, Golden Crown, Cure, and some other of the richest mines at the Thames, and is now owned ostensibly by three shareholders —Messrs H, R. Jones and J. Cook, of the Thames, and Mr F. A. Whitaker, of Auckland. The ground was originally taken up by Messrs Jones, Schofield, and M'Pike, but Mr Cook soon afterwards bought a half share, and then a full third share. Messrs O'Buglien and Cassin each bought a sixth share before heavy gold was found, and two out of the original owners retired. Mr Jones, however, retained his full third share throughout, and the shareholders received some very handsome dividends, one of which amounted to £1,030 Bs. 9d. each. At this period a battery was purchased, and then Messrs Cassin and O'Buglien sold their third share for the sum of £IO,OOO to the old Thames Investment Company, but Messrs J ones and Cook each refused similar offers. The Manukali mine wal at this time working on the famous run of gold which was subsequently found in the Golden Crown and Caledonian mines in such astounding richness. The claim had, however, been formed into a company consisting of GOOO shares, but was, and still is, held in three equal shares of 2000 scrip each. By and by came the reverse of fortune. The gold ''gave out," but the company continued vigorous mining operations for some time, expending a large sum of money, and making the ground something like a rabbit warren. After a long period of non-success, nnd after running the battery for some time for other companies, the owners sold the battery about two years ago, and it is said that

an offer of a few hundred pounds would at that time have secured the entire mine as well as the battery. However, the ground was generally kept manned by three men,* but no important operations were entered into for nearly two years.: About four, months ago, an old drive was extended for five or six feet'for the purpose of "prospect ing," when a large reef was met with, the existence of which was previously unknown, and from it a smajl parcel of stone was crushed, and yielded nearly three ounces of gold to the ton. The rest of the story is well known. Day after day, as the mine was opened up, the prospects improved, and now they may be regarded as better than were ever before seen in the Manukau—which is saying a great; deal. The first yielded 636 02S. of gold, and another cleaning up is expected to take place this week, when there will probably be between 2000 and 3000 ozs. of gold,, and a dividend of at least £1 per share on 6000 shares, or £2OOO to each of the three fortunate shareholders. We have spoken of the three " ostensible" owners of the mine, but we believe there are really four shareholders. The old Thames Investment Company, as will be gathered from what we have said, held one third share,

but on the failure of that company some four vears ago, Mr Whitaker and the Bank of New JZealand were compelled, if we are not misinformed, to take oyer this interest in the Manukau mine, amongst other assets, to save themselves. They have therefore been " let in" for a very handsome thing, as the market value of the mine is, now placed at £72,000. The history of this mine Bhould afford encouragement to the owners of mining property on this field, and should induce them to thoroughly prospect every portion of their mines, instead of paying too much attention to "lost runs" of gold. We hope that the present owners of the Manukau will realise their most sanguine expectations, and we are glad to think that two-thirds of the mine is Still in the hands of Thames residents. But no one will grudge Mr Whitaker a slice of good fortune, for the Thames goldfield owes him a large sum of money, and he is known as one of the best " stickers" amongst all the Auckland capitalists, and one who goes into mining more as an investment than for speculative purposes.

The Butcher and the Dog. The dog is a sagacious animal, but he is sometimes a thief. A certain butcher carries on business in this city, who, for the last fortnight, has daily been robbed by a most ferocious-looking dog, which, in a remarkably cool manner, walks up to his counter and seizes the first joint it can lay hold on. The dog has carried on this game for some time, but yesterday the butcher determined to endure it no longer. He had on two or three occasions endeavoured to punish the dog, but the growls of the brute had unnerved hint first at the time when he required his nerves most. The board on which he exposes his meat runs along the interior of his shop front. Yesterday, as before intimated, he made up his mind to chastise the dog for his past misdeeds, and.try to induce him to discontinue his objectionable visits. He resolved to put up with such treatment at the hands, or rather the jaws, of a dog no longer. He would just wait patiently until the dog paid hin customary (not customer-y) visit, and now that his bile was stirred up he would put a stop to the thing once and for ever. He went to work in this way: he got a pitchfork, and a leather strap about five feet long ; then he fastened one end of the strap securely round a large leg of mutton, and tied the other end lo an anvil which happened to be under his counter. His next proceeding was to clear all the meat off his shop board, except the leg of mutton which was strapped. This he placed in a most conspicuous position. He then sat down on a low stool under the shop board and got the pitchfork ready. Presently up walked the dog and seized the mutton. The dog thought he had it all right, but he hadn't. The butcher sprang up and made a violent blow at the dog (which still had hold of the mutton) with the pitchfork. The dog wasn't hurt, but the gas fittings Were considerably. The globes were broken, and the pipes came down " with a run." The gas was turned off, so* this didn't matter much for the present. As soon as the butcher had recovered from the shock occasioned by this little accident, he saw that the dog was still doing his best to get the meat. He therefore made a plunge at the dog with the prongs of the fork, and the dog seemed to see the danger, for he sprang back just in time. At the precise moment when the dog sprang back, an old lady was in the act of passing the shop, and she fell over that dog with a loud scream. The \infortunate butcher thought he had stabbed the old lady with the pitchfork, and rushed out to pick her up, and render whatever assistance he could in what he believed to be her last moments. No sooner had he got outside the shop than the dog " went for him," and there was a fight. The old lady became frightened, and so she screamed louder than ever, and the butcher roared, and the dog howled, and tried to pull that butcher's trousers off. After a few more rounds the dog was satisfied, and went away, carrying with him about three quarters of the butcher's trousers and half of his waistcoat. The butcher is now sad and low-spirited, but still it affords him a little pleasure to know that he prevented the dog from getting the leg of mutton. However, it is bolieved he will not make a similar attempt to punish another dog possessed of thievish propensities.— Aincriccm

"" Our Immigrants. Quito a fleet of homo ships have arrived during tlie last few days. The Caroline, Devana, Cartsburn, and Carsick Oaatlej containing amongst them an aggrefate of close upon 2000 immigrants. The hily Times reporter, who was amongst the first to board the. ship Caroline,, heard but a veiy indifferent account of the b'ehavipur of a considerable majority of the passengers during the passage. They were all shipped at Queenstown, and the single women were selected by that estimable person Mrs Howard. Out of the 126, 40 came out of the Cork Workhouse, and were reported by the cap tain to be amongst the best-behaved of the lot. Where the others came from was not known, but that they were very4roublesome., was vouched for by the captain and matron and doctor. The utmost difficulty had been experienced in keeping them from the men, and the difficulty was intensified by their compartment exterding so far forward as the after-hatch, which, of course, opened «n the main deck. The hatch was barred across with iron, and every needful precaution to keep the women under proper restraint had evidently been taken, and we should imagine with reasonable success. At the same time', excessive vigilance, night and day," had to be exercised—the women being wors« than the men. On being admonished for her forward conduct, one of these pets of -Mrs Howard'B pertly remarked, "Sure, Ave are sent out to people the country," "Yes," was the curt rejoinder, "but you must not begin, until after you arrive there." That Captain Clyma had been put to more than extra trouble and annoyance, was evident from his application to Captain Thomson, for police protection whilst the ship was in harbour with the immigrants" on board. His chibf care was to prevent any liquor being smuggled on board. '' They are such an excitable lot," he remarked, " that if they obtain liquor, I fear quarrelling and bloodshed must follow." Commenting upon this the Times remarks :—" The question will doubtless be asked by many people—ls there no way of getting rid of this disreputable shipment ! We are afraid not. At the same time, if by some good chance a ship bound for England could be got to take them, it ■would be cheap for this community in the end were these women sent back to the place from whence they came, even although the passage money charged per head came to double the usual rate;" •

Dreadful Catastrophe in America. 147 PERSONS DKOWKED. The most terrible disaster in the annals of the history of Massachusetts (says the Alia of May 27) occurred in Hampshire County on Saturday. The Williamsburg reservoir, covering a tract of over one hundred acres, gave way early in the forenoon, precipitating the vast mass of water it contained three miles down a steep and narrow valley into the thriving manufacturing town of Williamsburg, and thence further down the valley, through the villages of Hadenrille, Leeds, and Florence, into the Northampton Meadows, where, the stream empties into the Connecticut river. The huge torrent, rushing into Williamsburg with resistless power, swept away in a moment the manufacturing establishments and numbers of dwellings, causing enormous destruction of property and terrible loss of human life. The lower villages suffered only less awfully. The reservoir which burst was a wall of .masonry five feet at the thickest, backed and faced with fifty feet of earth. It was twenty-five feet in depth, and 459 feet long. Behind it was a lake of 104 acres, holding three million tons of water. On Friday night it rained hard. At half-past seven.on Saturday morning, Cehey, one of the dam watchers, was in front of his dam when he saw. in the east branch a spurt of water, near the base. In a moment he turned to his barn, jumped on his mare, and ran her for dear life down the road to Williamsbnrg. He looked back once, and saw that out of an enormous breach in the earth and masonry a torrent of water had burst into the air. There was no dam, there was nothing to be seen but the front of a huge, rolling wave, which was carrying on its crest the very stone blocks of the wall, and dashing them down the steep incline of the valley. The.speed of this torrent increased every moment, but Cheney was gone, riding recklessly over the stony and muddy roads to give the warning where fifty homes were in the direct path of the flood. He went over the terrible two-and-a-half miles at so rapid a pace that in ten minutes he was crying and yelling like a madman, among the cottages of Williamsburg, "The dam ! The dam is burst! Get up on the high ground, the water is coming." It had come. Ten minutes was full enough for that mountain of water going down a decline of one foot in every six to reach the first victims. Thei'e they stood, pretty white cottages in rows and rectangles on the fiats. The gorge had been narrow above, and a thirt? feet moving wall of Water and limestone rock indistinguishable was upon them, over them, and spread out upon the plain, roaring like the crash of near thunder, and tumbling down the frightened valley at the rate of twenty miles an hour. Those who were safe before the news came escaped ; as for the rest, they took the chances of the flood. Some clung to their houses, but houses were mere toys of paper, swept like feathers here and there, piled one upon the other, upset, spun round, lifted bodily and broken in twain against the trees, lifted into the air and ground to splinters between the flood, beaten and buffeted and tossed adrift with all that was human in

thorn, shaken into the terrible railway speed of tho delude of timbers, and quartz rocks, and water. Home fled, and were overwhelmed before tho eyes of their friends ; some went iiiad and rode the dolugo down the valley shrieking. Here and there one could be seen 'sitting upon the roof of his shaking house, and clinging to it as the billows struck it. Of these last, one or two escaped by tho sudden staying of the Waves. It was all oyer in a short half-hour, and tho waste had gone down the valley not unheralded entirely. An hour from' the alarm at Williamsburg, the waters had done their work, and in half an hour more had lost their power. 120 buildings are destroyed, and hundreds of acres are covered with stone and mud. A special from Mill River says that corpses are recovered, numbering 147 in all, one million dollars worth of property has been destroyed, and 400 families rendered homeless. Adding to the confusion and distress, as soon as the catastrophe became known, a gang of robbers and roughs from the neighbouring towns poured in eager for plunder. An Eccentric Moon. Thomas Brown was employed at the Bank Theatre, a few years ago, as a kind of utility man, and one night the manager put him behind the scene at the rear of the stage to take care of the moon. Brown had a candle on the end of a long pole, and it was his duty to hold the light behind the moon, which was merely a round, nnpainted space in the curtain, and to pull the curtain slowly up to represent tho rising of the moon. Brown seated himself on a piece of baronial castle, and while waiting for the order to go to workhe fell asleep. Presently the tragedian on the stage said to the heroine, " Swear by yon bright moon," etc., etc., and turned to point to it, but the orb of night was not there. The stage manager ilew around and gave Brown a kick, and in a frenzy ordered him to " h'ist that moon quick!" Brown was bewildered, and without waiting for further orders, he ran the curtain up with one je'rk, when the cord broke, and down it came again. Another string was hurriedly rigged on tho pulley, and the mooU began to rise properly ; but Brown's nerves were so unstrung by fright that he couldn't hold the candle steady behind it, so that there were fifteen or twenty eclipses during the ascent, the light meanwhile wandering all over tho curtain, to the infinite amusement of tho audience. However, tho luminary got safe at last, and the tragedian again observed, " Swear by yon bright moon," but before the words were fairly out the cord snapped again, the curtain rolled with velocity, and broke loose from the roller, revealing Brown, the lunar elevator, roaming round in his shirt sleeves, with a candle on a stick, A moment later the manager was fumbling amongst his hair, and that- very night Mr Brown closed his theatrical career. The manager remarked to a confidential friend that while a man who was capable of making the moon rise three times in one night, and of getting up any number of eclipses and other astronomical phenomena, might be valuable for some purposes, he was about as fit for a theatre as a wall-eyed inulo was for singing hymns.—Max Adeler.

Cremation. We make the following extract from the Chicago Inter-ocedin :—" Cremation has touched the highest altitude of all its greatness. Nothing now remains but to enshrine its name in the poetry of life, death, and immortality. A French chemist has discovered a mode by which the ashes of a deceased friend may be so disposed as to recall the memory of a loved one, and at the same time to form a graceful ornament to the person. For some time this ingenious youth had exhibited a handsome seal ring to the lapidaries of his acquaintance, and had even begun to make a considerable income by betting that no one, after three guesses, could tell the material of which the seal was made. He invariably won, and after pocketing the money wouldexclaim ; "Itis my dear dead wife. I wear her u»? my finger to keep alive pleasant remembrances." It was too true. He had condensed the body of his wife, polished her, and set her in a ring. The field for future disposal of the dead in this graceful and handy manner is inexhaustible. A widower might be known like a tree, by his rings. The dear dead first to be worn on the third finger, the sainted second upon the first, and so on. Ho might even devote his thumb to the exclusive nse of his various mothers-in-law. As a dialogue of the period, somewhere about 1800, we might imagine the following: "What a pretty pin, George ; who is it ?" "Oh ! it's only my poor old grandmother—makes tip well,'don'tshe?" Or, perhaps, the following : Gushing Young Lady—" What a love of a pendant! Why it's not !" "Yes, it is poor Harry. Could'nt stand my marriage, yon know—prussioacid and that sort of thing; buttho setting is sweet, isn't it?" Persons who are partial to what they call family might have all their ancestors done up in seals ; and be known, like an Indian from his scalps, by the number which hang from a watch pocket, But the idea is too vast to compress within a small paragraph. Cremation jewellery must henceforth bo regarded as one of the dead arts brought to life again.

There is a Danbury legend to tlie effect that a party desiring to transact some private business with another was invited by the oilier to step with him into a neighbouring store. "But we will be disturbed," said the first party. "Oh no," said the second party, " they don't advertise."