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GKKEN MOUNTAIN FREEMAN,
(hike in the Brirk Block. Hed ot BUteStrett.
ill W if riJ In advance; oUicrwiio, (2.U0.
Tayineiit may be made by mail or otuerwiae to
II H. WHEELOCK,
Editor and Proprietor.
The Fiieeman, under the recent law of Con great
circulates free in Washington Oounty. On all iatrs
e ut uutnule Waehiutfton County, the poitaye ia paid
b. tlic publisher at the office in Montpelier.
WEDNESDAY. JUNE 11, 1879.
The wark Horror.
Captain Blako, editor of tho Barton
Moiutir, visited tlio afflicted neighborhood
in Newark and made a commoa sense in
vestigation of the circnnistiinces attending
tin sa I fatality thore, ia company with
oue of llio physicians. Ho makes tlio only
fall report that lias boon given to tho pub
lic, and we quote nil tho material points.
In the fu st place he speaks of tho disease
as diphtheria, and goes on to say :
Tho severity of tho disease caused the
parents iu summon physicians at once,
among whom were Drs. Carpenter, Davis
and .Moody of Burke, Carter of Wheclock
and others each of whom has had liiueh
experience in the treatment of diphtheria,
l'rompt measures were at once taken to
sillbrd relief, and in most instances, where
the disease had not advanced to the forma
tion of a membrane in the throat, relief
wasallorded; but in other eases, where
the system had absorbed the diphtheria
xjison, niedicino had no effect; tho patient
turned purple and black, and dieil in a
few hours, the body becoming putrid be
fore it was cold. Besides tho children who
attended the school, other children in the
families fell sick in a few days, some in a
few hours, alter being exposed to the con
tagion of the disease. Several adults who
waited upon them were taken eick imme
diately, and have been in a dangerous con
dijicm, though nono appeared to bo attack
ed as severely as the school children.
The neighborhood is in a rough region,
deep down between high hills, whero sev
eral small streams unite to form ono of
the branches of tho l'assuuipsic river, and
the school house where the scholars at
tended school stands under if steep hill
just at the edge, or partly within tho high
way. It is one of those old, musty, untidy,
unpleasant houses, the like of which may
be found in far too many places nil over
the country. It was built on tho lower
side af the road, on ground that is wet in
the spring, and tho lrout sido is now so
low that the water in tho spring of the
j car rims into tho door in quite large
quantities, and falls into a pit under the
house, through a largo crack uuder the
partition that separates the shed and entry
part from the school room. The houso is
banked up on all sides, the dirt averaging
ono foot above the sills, with no ventilation
under the houso except quite a large
crack in the floor. The dirt with which
the houso was banked was shovolcd up
close around the houso, and the pits out of
which it was dug are partially tilled with
the most lilthy water. The school house;
was " washed " after a fashion, some days
bifjrelhe commencement of school, and
then tightly closed until school was opened.
Toe privy is most conveniently situated,
standing about twelve feet from the front
door of the house. It is well ventilated,
however, as it stands on blocks so high
that tho citizens can thoroughly inspect it
every lime they go past, and seo for them
selves whether it is clogged, either. above
or beneath the floor. The farmers usually
draw a load away from it every spring,
but have not done so this year. It looks
as though it might be guilty of much
mischief, past and present. Running along
side tho road and just in Iho rear of the
house, is a small brook, now largo enough
to fill a spout ono foot wide and four inches
deep. A few rods above the house a road
crosses the brook and runs up a steep hill
about lifteen roils to the farm buildings of
J. II. Cheney. Near the bridge tho chil
dren have been accustomed to get water
for drinking purposes, and it was surmised
at once that there was poison in tho water.
Investigation shows, that if not poisoned,
the water was, at the time it was drank,
not wholesome or clean. Mr. Cheney's
barns are built in a sag in the side hill that
at this season of tho year is wet, the wa
ter now working out under and below
them in quantities stiflicicnt to bo visible
almost to tho brook, live hundred feet
away. In the ditch beside the road lead
ing up the hill past the barns, a small
stream of water is now running that is
quite red, either from oozing through
manure, or from ochre or other mineral
substance. This water reached tho brook
above the bridge. There is nothing about
tho house or barns of Mr. Cheney that
shows any signs ot slovenliness. Jn the
barnyard, howiver, water is standing in
tlio low place in the middle into which a
large quantity of muck has been drawn.
It is possible that this water is slowly
making its way into the streams that run
out Irom under and below the barns.
Another small stream of water makes
across the road in wet times, and falls
into tli'i brook just above the bridge. So
much for the bad water that finds its way
into the brook.
Another source of supposed contamina
tion of tho water, is the carcass of a horse
that died one year ago last winter and was
buried, unbeknown to the owner, three
rods above the bridge, on a level with
1 lie brook bridge, and only ten feet from
it. The carcass was removed a year ago
to a knoll forty or lifty feet from the brook,
where it now lies partly exhumed by ptr
ties who have been trying to discover the
cause of the disease, which has been called
poisoning. The corruption is not fully
absorbed by the earth, and it is possible
that during the melting of the snow some
poisonous matter found its way into the
brook it may still bo working out through
the low ground whero the horse was orig
Another poison theory, perhaps tho most
absurd, is that Paris green may have
washed from tho hillside, sixty or eighty
rods distant, and been borno along iu the
water. The nature of that poison, an I
the contagious character so far across the
land, are sulHcient to disprove this theory.
The last, and us ono physician thinks, tiie
most probable cause of the breaking out of
diphtheria in tho school, is tho fact that
the children of ono family, noted Mr the
terribl) unsanitary conditions of their
house and poisons, attended school in the
filthy clothing that they wore, while get
ting up from tho diphtheria, which they
had a short lime since. It is thought that
they Inay have brought the disease in their
clothing to tho school house, and hence its
spread. If thu above reasons are not suf
ficient to account for sickness and death
in this nillicted community, others might
be suggested. The misfortune has been
the result of ignorance or wilful negligenc
in taking even ordinary measures toward
preventing this disease or some other dis
ease attacking tlio community. A condi
tion of affairs about tho school house and
the brook, that has created or invited dis
ease, uncleanly homos, carelessness in re
gard to the furl her spread of the disease,
and the peculiarities of the location may
each have hail something to do with tbe
sickness. This is not the only place in
Vermont where such causes are liablo to
produce tho same results, and the lesson
ought to be heeded by making everybody
more careful in regard to the sanitary con
ditions which prevent disease. With all
our fresh air, pure water, cheap soap and
cheap labor, thore is no excuse for a mis
fortune so terrible us this one.
The authorities of Newark ought to take
means at once to prevent the spread of this
disease, and to put every house where it
has occurred in a cleanly etute. The water
of the brook, which has borne the chief
blame for tho sickness, has been sent away
to be analyzed, and it will soon be learned
whether tho sickness resulted from it or
not. The remaining sick, twenty or more,
are now, nearly all, considered out of danger.
Tho following letter was addressed by
tho lamented Dr. Arnot, five weeks before
his death, to tho editor of an American
weekly illustrated journal:
EiMxuuiiiiii, May IS, 1875.
J'ear Sir Tho Christian Weekly, of
May 8, lias just been handed in. 1 am
arrested by the pictorial " Beverio on
Tobacco," on tho first page. After a full
examination of the picture, I turn over the
pages eagerly to lind the corresponding
article with explanations and lessons; but
no such thing. Is not this a grave omis
sion, Mr. Editor? We want lino upon line
on that themo. I wish you had sont your
artist's work in proof to nie: 1 should
willingly have written the column ol
corresponding letterpress. But why not
do it bow? I don't smoke: 1 never
smoked: God helping mo, I never will.
I have lots of reasons more than I could
crowd into oue paper; but heio are some,
taken as they rise to memory. I have
sons, some of them grown up and some
growing. Whatever difference of opinion
there may be as to tho effect of tobacco on
the health of men, 1 believe all are agreed
that it damages at tho root the constitution
of jouths, if they use it before they reach
manhood. Now.common sense and all ex
perience teaches that a man weakens his in
fluence iinmeasurably.if he himself smokes
and tells his boys to abstain. If you can
encourage I hem to do as you do, "you can
stand on a firm footing, and have a mighty
purchase on your child. This is a method
God will bless. But there is ono reason
against smoking which is so big that it
seems to mu to comprehend nuarly all
others within it. It is that the uso of
tobacco makes it inoro dillicult to bo a
Christian hinders a Christian mightily
in being a true witness to his Lord. 1 am
accustomed now to greatly pity Christians
who are also smokers. The practice not
only drains the life-sap out of the smoker's
cheeks; it also drains charity out of the
smoker's soul. Many smokers succeed in
living a Christian life, till their Lord calls
them hence, iu spite of tho great obstruc
tion, just as many youths contrive to
wriggle forward into manhood, with
somewhat sallow cheeks, and sunken eyes,
in spite of tho tobacco poison. Yet it
remaims true that smoke to a greater or
less extent diminishes the strength and
beneficial effects of a Christian's graces.
Tho tender regard for othersr the willing
ness to sull'er rather than inllict an injury;
the watchful glad grasping of doing to
others as you would like them to do to
you; all this sapped and weakened at the
foundation by the smoker's appetites and
habits. My neighbors all around do me
day by day a deliberate injury, who I
believe would givo mo fair treatment if
they were not enslaved by tobacco. On
tho top of a railway car whero wo nre
packed together in a row, with faces
within eiglitocn inches of each oilier, a
man sitting next to mo on the wind side
takes out his apparatus and prepares his
dose. Then he scrapes a match, and the
brimstone smoke literally chokes mo. The
wind has blown out his match, and it is
not until I havo endured the brimstone
three limes that I am admitted into the
less pungent element of tobacco. It never
occurs to him that ho is doing mo an
injury; and if I utter a complaint, live to
ono ho meets it Willi insolence. The
white ashes of tlio pipe are afterwards
shaken out, and scattered like snow over
the dress, and it may bo into the eyes of
his neighbors. The floor meantime, where
our feet are retting, i3 in such a condition
that it can neither bo described in polite
society, nor endured bo any but the most
robust. Everywhere tho sumo thing. In
crowds at railway stations or at an illumi
nation, where tliero is no means of escape,
the person next you in the garb and mien
of a gentleman as far his supremo and
selfish devotion to his own gratification in
the form of tobacco will permit will pull'
the detestable smoke in your faco, or in
tho face of a lady, without apology and
without compunction. Iu all this I have
respect not to tho persons who sillier tho
injury; I am thinking of those who inllict
it; 1 am grieving over the damage done
to their character. For, on the principle
that it is more blessed to givo than to
receive a benefit, it is more cursed to
inflict, than to onduro a wrong. The
transgressor has tho worst of it; for every
time that he treats his neighbor unkindly
and unfairly, he gives another rub to his
own oonscionee.und increases the hardness
of its searing. Tho appetites that God
has planted in our nature hunger and
thirst are very imperious, ami havo put
us to a great deal of trouble. They must
bo obeyed. But then they are useful and
necessary. Wanting hunger a stern
watchman set over us within our own
constitution wo should certainly forget
or neglect to take the nourishment neces
sary to sustain life and health. So, these,
imperious appetites that our Maker has sot
over us are wise and good. They are the
preservers of our life. But wh it of the
appetites that m in in ikes for himself? I
admire the choice that David the king,
made in his great distress" Lit mo fall
now into the hands of thu Iml, for very
great are His mercies; but lot mo not fall
into the hand of man." I. Cliron. 21: lit.
Iu the matter of appetites that shall stir in
my being, and lord it over ine, and com
pel mu to obey them, let mil not fill into
the hand of man least of all into my own
hands. Now, I reckon it to be self-evident
that a smoker, when he begins, deliberate
ly kindles in his own constitution a lire
that was not there before ho kindled it a
lire that, though it needs some cherishing
and fanning at first, will, when it is once
kindled, blaze and compel the victim to
toil like a slave running and fetching,
and Hinging on tobacco leaves to feed it
till his dying day. For, if hcru and thore
one breaks his chain and escapes, ho may
well say With a great price of lengthen
ed agony obtained I this freedom; and
tho multitudes are held in bondage to the
last. It is time that Christians should take
tobacco smoking into their closets and
shut the door, and ask, ask on, until they
get an answer, as to their duty in thu
matter. For my part, I have no doubt
that it is one of tho great waves stretching'
like the tide over the breadth of tho world
to the extent of the power of impeding
tho coming of tlio kingdom. It is a sys
tem of solf-gratiil;aliun at tho expense of
others. 1 he gospul system is the reverse.
The two currents are antagonistic The
writer frankly expresses his own judgment,
keeping nothing back, that readers may
get the benefit of it, whatever it may bo
worth : hut ho does not ask ho does not
desire that any brother should adopt his
judgment. His only dosire is that every
Christian smoker should lay tho whole
matter by prayer before tho Lord that
nought Him, and tlien act accenting to
his own judgment, looking to tlio Lord for
His smile and blessing on tho course he
may bo led to adopt the blessing of
present Lord on his act of breaking tho
ptpo and throwing tho stock ot lobaooo
into the tire, if that is the course he is
induced to follow; or tho blessing of the
present Lord, for Ho has said "I am with
vou nlwav." on every No I cannot con
clude the sentenco; for with me, with my
convictions, it would border on profanity.
But wo can all concur in form of conclu
sion" In everything, by prayer and
supplication with thanksgiving, let your
requests bo made known unto uou.
Two old Texas ranscrs. who had iust
helped bury a neighbor, were talking
about religion, and one asked the other
how pious be thought it was possible for a
man to get in this world, if he was in real
earnest. " Wa'al," said the other, reflec
tively, " I think ef a man gets so't he can
swop steers or trade horses without lyin',
'at he'd better pull out for Iho better land
aforo ho has a relapse."
Ttl(.s MO )Ki:
TUe straus-cr .ball hear lliy lament ot hi. plains.
The .win ol thy harp shall be sent o'er tbe deep.
Tit thy masters themselves, a, they rivet thy chains.
Stall praise at tho sou of their capt ivo ami weep.
Mute biinif the harp on Tara's walla.
No loach ittt music wakin.
Only the h pe-frau,cht western wiud
The mournful silence breaking.
In vain men died to (five it voleo,
Vainly iu silence Buffered:
Truly to set the broken strings
No aid the Haxon proffered. a
Murmured Bad Erin, from the harp
One Barred cord unstriu-rtUK.
" l'erehaueo the hearts that hoed not tears '
Will list a poet's siutfiiik':
Tile broad, deep stream that calmly 11 me
Doth mutely mirror Ue.ue i;
Unto tho bird that warbles near
Is wider message Kiveu."
Softly she raised her poet's lyre.
The tears her hriirht eyes blending.
Amid its chords of bravest sou
The string from Tara bindiiur;
(liittered the sorrow-tarn shed t iroad,
The fairest of Ihe seven -Unblessed
tho lyre that hath no chord
For country and for Ileaveu !
The poet bore his irift afar,
His Island's sorrow Blua-iinf -Sweet
pity 's tear of sympathy
Iu alien hearts upsprinicinif
Simriuir her true-eyed maiden's faith,
Her kina's old battle irlory
Ere tair-hairrd Saxon wroiu-ht tho wrou-r
That darkens Ireland's story .
M.'n turned from Cashmere's rose-strtwn plains
To hear of truer lov-inif ,
Left Eden's opened Kates to list
A nation's sad reproviux.
Echoed across tlio narro w seas
Tho lyre's melodious stn-'iui? ,
Unto tlio striinr that Erin loosed
Mute Tara's harp replyimr .
Still echoing over tlio broader seas.
Salt waves the music bearing-,
The true notes rested iu fond hearts,
A people's sorrow sliiu'iuif.
To-day unto the poet's sonir
Is world-wide tribute Kiven;
The olden echoes wake a'-ra in
Ileueatha brighter Heaven.
They rise faotn Ireland's saiut-pr::ssod sod,
From loimieB of prairie Kt'assos;
Low sound from faroff iroldon waves
Drifts through Sierra passes,
See ! 'mid the bays the English roso
With holy shamrock blending.
Acacia from wide southern Beas,
Its yellow sunshine londinir.
While Erin lifts brave Drum's harp,
. Her poet's birthday koopinr,
Q'liek blood from ilery Irish hearts
Throurh countless veins is leaping.
Dim was the poot's brlif htost verso
Lacking his country's blcssinir.
Ualse sweetest sour- of Irish harp
If Tata's chord was missinjr.
The Land of the Azlccs.
Hon. L. Bradford Prince, chief justice
of New Mexico, has given a representative
of tho Now York Times an exceedingly
interesting description ot lile in that
almost unknown country, and particularly
of tho habits and peculiarities of tlio Pue
blo (or village) Indians, who compose a
large part of its population. Tlieso odd
people belong to the old Aztec nation and
most ol tliem still Hold to the mysterious
rites of tho Aztec religion. Tliero is a
good opportunity in Now Mexico, Mr.
Prince thinks, for vineyards, hut there
is little to he dono in the territory
just now without capital. Thorn is no
employment for mechanics, the Mexican
mode ot life not requiring them, the houses
generally being built of adobo and such
clerical positions as tliero aro overrun
with applicants. 1 hero is no place, how
ever, he thinks, where a man with capital
can invest it to greater advantage. The
usual rato of interest is 1 1-2 per cent a
mouth, and safe loans can be mado at that
rato. Along the Kio Grande there is a
line opening for fruit orchards. American
fruit lias been introduced only witliin a
few years, and it grows to perfection.
The valley of thu Rio Grande, from the
Santa Fe to Sorroco Mr. Prince believes,
will before long be the orchard district of
the southwest and supply Colorado, Kan
sas and Nebraska with fruits. Land can
be bought in largo tracts suitable for graz
ing, for from 0 cents to sl an acre. Las
Vegas which is to bo reached by tho rail
road in July, is the business center of the
eastern part of the territory, controlling
the business I'M miles south and tub miles
cast. It is the emporium of sheep nnd
cattle raising, wool and hides. The jour
ney from New York city to Cimniaron, in
New Mexico, by rail takes four and a half
days, and Las Vegas can be reached in
the same time when tho railroad is com
pleted. Tliero is no more lawlessness in
Xew Mexico, Mr. Prince says, than in a
Now England community, except in the
border regions, particularly on the Texas
side. The natives aro a peaceable, polite,
law-abiding people, and have great re
spect for the authorities. 1 he outrages
are almost invariably committed by Amer
icans, desperate characters, coming from
Texas. Most of the inhabitants of the
territory arc Mexicans, with dark skins,
and the common language is Spanish,
Tliero aro some communities of the
Pueblo Indians in New Mexico living in
precisoly the same way their ancestors
lived when Colorado reached "the land of
the seven cities." About 7,000 Pueblo
Indians, in I t villages, are scattered about
the territory. They are analogous in their
methods of building, but uso a variety of
languages not mere dialects in uso
among them, in one of these languages
the words are nearly all monosyllables;
in another thev nearly all have three
syllables. Pueblos close to each other do
not use tho same languages. Iu the
Piiebla of Isleta, for example, in the
extreme south, is used the sumo language
as is spjken in Taos, in the extreme north,
and none of tho intervening Pueblos uso
that language. About 75 years ago when
Pueblo of Pecos was abandoned by tho
remnant of its inhabitants, whoso numbers
had boon terribly reduced by contagoous
diseases, they had to go through a number
of Puoblos of different languages to reach
Jamcz, whero their own tongue was
Ono of the most interesting of the Puo
blos is Taos where the inhabitants nearly
all livo in two largo stone buildings, each
and 400 feot long, and nearly 200 feet
wide, and five stories high, somewhat
pyramidal in shape, each story being
slightly smaller than tlio one under it.
Each building contains an immense num
ber of rooms, and the stories are all reach
ed by ladders from tho outside, tlio only
entrance to tho rooms being through a
door in llio ceiling. Each building eon
tains about 200 people The buildings are
not at nil ruinous, but aro kept in porfect
ropair, and aro always scrupulously clean.
The rooms have no windows or arrange
ments for light except tho door in the
ceiling, and a round hole iu tho outer
rouins, about tho siza of a stove-pipe,
through tho wall. All tho rooms aro
thoroughly whitewashed, and are kept so
white and clean that they nro light enough
for comfort. .Hardly an atom of dust is
to bo found in any of tho rooms, and the
grounds about the buildings are cleanly
swept. The pooplo nro always hospitable
to strangers, but no visitor is ever allowed
to penotrato to tho center of the building,
where, it is said, there is a great estua in
which the sacred fire of Montezuma is
perpetually kopt burning, nnd whero the
ancient riles of the Azteo religion are still
nerformed. Tho furniture in the rooms
consist principally of lounges covered
with skins. The Pueblo Indians arc
oitizens of the United Stnte3, having been
citizens of Mexico at the time of tbe
treaty of peace. Although they are entitl
ed to vote and hold office, they have not
done so' for a number of years, preferring
to be exempt from taxation. Somo of the
educated ones can read and write Spanish.
The men wear pantaloons and blankets,
and men and women arc exemplary in
in morals. They never intermarry with
tho Mexicans and tbe men nro not as
small as tho Mexican Aztecs, although the
women aro small. The men look more
like our western Indians.
Nearly every village in New Mexico has
its old Spanish church, Roman Catholic
of course, and they aro all gorgeous with
paintings and carvings. Santa Fe has two
old churches, both of great historical
interest. One, the church of San Miguel,
adjoins tho only house belonging to the
old Pueblo of Santa Fe that is left in the
town. Tho other, the church of Our Lady
of Guadaloupo, is very handsomely orna
mented. There is also a line old church
at Santa Cruz, containing many Spanish
paintings and carvings and old embroider
ed vestments. The Spanish customs of
two centuries ago prevail almost all over
the wholo territory, and the people arc
bospitablo to a fault, especially around
Albuquerque and Bernalillo, where the
wealthiest old Spanish families livo.
Tho scenery and tbe climate of New
Mexico are unsurpassed, and it is already
a great resort for consumptives. Santa Fe
the capital, with 7,000 inhabitants, is
7,000 feet ubovo the level of tho sea. or
almost as high as the city of Mexico,
further down on the table lands. This
gives a temperature hot in the middle of
tho day and mild at night. There arc
mountains in the territory 14,000 feot high.
The Mexican population was loyal to the
Union through the war, without exception.
An army came up from Texas in 1802,
and held possession of Santa Fe for a short
time, but, after about a month, they were
driven out. The majority of the Mexicans
aro republicans, but tho larger part of the
American population is from Missouri,
and rather inclines toward doraocracy.
Tliero is somo excitement just now about
newly discovered silver mines. Extensive
tleposits of carbonates havo been discover
ed at Cerillos, about 18 miles from Santa
Fe. This is near tho site of tho ancient
Spanish mines, which were worked to a
great depth, and some of which have been
explored, with interesting historical devel
opments. They were worked in the
sixteenth century, but most of them nre
now filled with water, and it is impossible
to tell their exact depth. Tho lorquois
mines, from which tho elegant jewels in
tho present crown of Spain were taken,
were in this vicinity, and a number of
niiiiers aro now on their way to the newly
discovered mines. The cost of going by
rail from Now York to Santa Fe is about
$125, and although railroads aro scarce in
the territory, stage lines and inhabitable
hotels aro plenty.
The Compensation ok Soititow.
There is comfort in tho thought of an
order beyond which nothing can pass, into
which each sorrow is adjusted; and in the
thought of a supreme Hand that can mould
all things to its purpose, nnd thus guaran
tees tho stability of that divine order.
They aro liko resting-places on tho stair
way up a gray cathedral spire, platforms
on each side of which you can stop and
breathe, and rest, and enjoy tho witlening
landscape, and the view which is to crown
tho whole, and grow familliar with a
feature here and there. So, resting as wo
pass in these lower thoughts, we reach the
last, that the end of all things is our good.
Tho particular sorrow may hurt, but the
drift of tho whole is good. And some
times the very sorrow has wrought us
rood. Wo know that by experience. It
was siood for our temper to sutler. It
calmed, restrained, chastened us made
us less impatient, or fretful, or violent.
Trial has been purifying us from tho
throng of tho vulgar, animal desires, from
restless cravings, from tho stain of pas
sion. It hits dono good by preventing us
from laying hold of the present world,
loosening our attachment to it, setting us
a liltIo apart from its piinted shows, out
of its babble and hasto. It has strength
ened our sympathy with others. Wo have
entered into tho fellowship of sorrow.
Wu have learned to feel tho common
burden. Wo can comfort, for wo know
what it is to be comforted. But the
most of what we know is by faith. We
have not seen or felt it yet. We havo but
caught a glimpse of tho system here and
there. If you have ever spont a misty day
upon Bbigi, you will havo soon through
shifting rifts in the lowor clouds tho edge
of a lake, or a fringe of a wood, or the
gray fragment of a town vague.transito
ry hints of a great world beneath. And
such vague hints are tho sum of what we
know in part, visions into God's working
that wo have seen closed as suddenly as it
had opened. We must hold on an 1 wait,
living in this as in everything else, by
faith. Huwlmj Mi'azine.
A Bui IiitsilMAN. The Emerald Isle
has long been famous for producing giants.
Tho must celebrated of these was the well
known O'Brien, wliom wo first hear of ns
a great raw youth crying in a public house
because unable to pay the bill, having
been left penniless through a quarrel with
his exhibitor. A gentleman taking com
passion on him, paid his debt, and advised
the young giant to set up on his own
account. Acting on this recommendation,
O'Brien started a public house in Bristol,
long known as tho Giant's Castle. A
memorial tablet in Trenohard Street Ro
man Catholic Chapel records his staturo
as having been eight feet, three inches.
He was very anxious that his remains
should not fall Into tho hands of the anato
mists, and gave directions against dese
cration from body-snatchers. It has, how
ever, boon quite frequently disputed, herto
fore. whether the giant's bones still rest in
his grave, or form one of tho curiosities of
tho Huntcrian Museum, though wo boheve
that they still lie undisturbed in a (loop
sunk firave. Poor O'Brien had to take
his constitutionals under covor of dark
ness, to avoid being mobbed by tho curi
ous, and liko most big fellows proved him
self a siniplo and inoffensive man; though
onco ho inadvertently tin ri lied a watch
man almost to death by lighting his pipe
at a street lamp, the sudden appearance of
which strange apparition threw the watch
man into a fit. His colossal proportions
once saved the giant from being robbed,
tho hierhwavman who stopped his carriage
riding away in terror at the sight of
O'Brien's lingo face thrust through the
window to soo what was the matter.
Hudson Tuttlo well says: "The body
must be pure. When inllamed with nn
improper diet, or saturated with stimulants
and narcotics, the mind, reciprocating tho
physical conditions thus created, is a
seething mass of passions, a magazine
which a spark may explode, and not wil
lingly do the pure spirits approach; and
the undeveloped are ever ready to seize
tho opportunity afforded. The prophets
of old fasted and dieted, that they might
gain immortal inspiration; they ordered
their lives in purity, that they might allow
tho invisible world the closer to approach
Used with due abstinence hope acts as
a healthful tome; intnmperately indulged,
ns an enervating opiate. The visions of
future triumph, which ut first animate ex
ertion, if dwelt upon too intently will
usurp ihe place of the storn reality; nnd
noble objects will be coteinplated, not for
their own inherent worth, but on account
of the day-dreams they engender. Thus
hone, aitled by imagination, in tkes one
man a hero, another somnambulist, and a
third a lunatic, while it renders them all
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 11,
Music, lis Nature anil Office.
The popular idea of music (says " P.
R. M." in the Canadian Spectator) seems
to bo that it is an art whoso office is sim
ply to create pleasurable excitement and
that the business of a musician, liko the
court fools of old, is to afford pleasure and
merriment for the superior race of beings
who manage the serious affairs of life. The
difference 'twixt tweedledum and tweedlo
dee has always been to many a matter of
profound mystery; they engage a few
fiddlers to plav for them during dinner.
stopping them during the performance of
Schumann's "Traumerci,'' or Beethoven's
" Egmont " Overture, in order to hoar
the sublimcr thoughts cxnrcssed in the
afterdinner speech of a time serving poli
tician. In our churches, too, where all
that is sublimo and beautiful ought to be
reverenced, what place do wo find assign
ed to music and musicians? Tho opening
voluntary is not used to prepare people's
minds for the solemn service in which
they aro about to participate, but to drown
the sound ot their footsteps as they come
tardily in after the servico has begun, (for
is not the organ a voluntary part of the
service?) In many churches the organist
Is allotted the dignified task ofmakiug
a noise while the colleetion is being taken"
up, nnd, should he be foolish enotiL'h to
attempt a piece of good music, is abruptly
brought to a closo by tho announcement
that " the money is all in." Service over
the organist is expected to play a conclud
ing voluntary, that is, to make us much
noise ns possible whilo tho people have a
friendly chat as they pass out of church, or
exchange opinions concerning the sermon
they havo just heard. If a clergyman hap
pens to be sullicient of a musician to value
art as it should lie valued, and favors a
truly duvotional service, using music in its
highest office, he is at onco denounced as
a ritualist, as the cnomy to evangelical
truth, whoso service is a trap set by the
devil tor the perversion ol mankind. Alas
for tho ignorance of church-men ! the devil
can havo nothing to do with a church
where art is esteemed and utilized ; for all
true art is from above, and is consequent
ly abhorred by the dovil. It we aro to
have music in our churches at all, let us
have it of the very best kind, and assign
to it a certain place suitable to its office,
but let us not introduce it, ns it wore, by
courtesy, in order to satisfy a few, whose
elevated nature makes them long fur
something higher nnd nobler thai a cold
and lifeless servico. Surely, if there bo
any place whero the elevation of the peo
ple should bo sought after.it is in churches ;
but, as a general rule, wo find that tho
music is brought down to tho level of the
people, instead of the people being eleva
ted until they can comprehend and appre
ciate the music.
In our homes music is of all the arts the
one most generally cultivated. But here,
too, we find a placo assigned to it not at
all in keeping with its nobility. It is cus
tomary to havo ' a little music " in the
evening, but of what docs it consist? A few
meaningless pieces are strummed on the
piano, generally in an inartistic manner;
the conversation, meanwhile, is continued,
tho music being looked on as a kind of
agreeable accompaniment. Vocal music
is usually listened to with somo show
of decency, put it is nsally performed by
persons who havo never received the
slightest instruction in that branch of tho
art, and so we cannot blame those who
listen for being unaffected by it. The pieces
played consist mostly of operatic bal
lads twisted out of shape by such writers
as Liszt. Prudent and Leybach. Beetho
ven's, Mendelssohn's and Weber's works
are rarely heard, and if any young lady
has sullicient tasto to study antl play them
she is listened to with courteous toleration
to the end, and then comes the remark
from tho hostess" Thank you, that is
nicely played; now won't you give us
That music requires intellect both for
its study and appreciation never seems to
enter into the heads of those who have
been accustomod to " a little music " as
an accompaniment to conversation at all
social gatherings. They think it is a val
uable accessory at funerals or wcddings.or
to drown tho clatter of knives and forks at
a public dinner, but they cannot imagine
how any sano person can find enjoyment
in sounds alone, as wc l ave them in the
symphonies of Beethoven nnd Mozirt.
Gkef.ni.ani. Greenland is a remark
ablo proof of tho rapidity with which
great physical changes in the earth's sur
face may occur. In the year 980, Eric the
Red founded colonies on both tho east and
west coasts which were long flourishing.
Tho interior of the country was then icy,
but the coasts afforded excellent pasturage.
In tho fourteenth and lnteenlh centuries
the black death so weakened tho colonies
that they were unable to resist tho inva
sions of tho natives. The coasts began
also to subside for a distance of six hun-
Ired miles, and are still sinking. Struc
tures raised within the last century aro
even now under water, while more recent
settlements have been submerged. Hugo
glaciers block access to a largo part of the
eastern coast, and on the west sido tho
layers of ice leave only a narrow habitable
space between the mountains and the sea.
A recent expedition from the west coast.
under the direction of Danish officials,
nftcr clambering over glaciers, wading
through snowdrifts and narrowly escaping
many deep crevasses, reached in a fort
night's tinio a mountain forty-five miles
inward, from u height ot tour thousand
feet above the sea level, they obtained a
wide view. As far as tho eye could reach
to the eastward nothing but glaciers and
sheets of ice could be seen. Greenland is
literal Iceland. Within tho historical
era it has never been entirely free from its
cold covering, but the transformations to
which wo have already referred are so ex
tensive that, according to many geological
theorists, the lapse of fifty thousand years,
instead of a few hundrod, would be re
quired to account for thorn.
Mokal Courage. Public men have
duties to perform from which there is no
escape. No one high in position can turn
a ileal ear to the remonstrances of his fel
low citizens against measures inimical to
other interests. To surrender his person
al independence to tho dictates of a mer-
cemiFy few is to sacrifice the welfare of
the selfish interests of individuals. When
riot and monarchy nre abroad in tho land ;
when fantlcism kindles the torch of the
incendiary ; when pestilonee mows down
whole communities, it is his duty to step
to the front, and show an example of self
sacrificing devotion that may norve tho
hearts of tho desponding to a struggle
against a common calamity.
Whoever is placed above the general
mass, whether he bo statesman, secular,
or popular loador, it is his duty to lead
the van and front the perils that menace
public health and the safety of society.
Irresolution and moral cowardice on the
part of public functionaries, in great ex
tremities, is little else than a crime.
Moral courage has given to some of the
most humble names in history a more
solid and enduring glory than that which
irradiates the history of the most famous
" I wonder uncle," said a little girl,
' if men will ever vet live to be 600 or
1000 years old?" '" No, my child," re
sponded the old man, " that was triod
once, and the race grew so bud that the
world had to be drowned."
UV LEVI WE I. LB UART.
Uishop Aiivs' death was exccelinirly painful, autl
his death Btruwles, coutrary to the opinions of his
physicians, were very hard. He freiiuently called out
iu loud tones. " All riIi. !" an 1 appeared Intensely
anxious for a reply.
On the earB of his sorrowing friends
Came the clarion voice of his call,
Like the pie in a warrior Bends,
When ordero 1 to cotniuer or fall.
For. tin nitiitsot host of the Lord
He had led fifty years in the van.
Where he wielded the spirit's sword-
The irospel of " irood will to man."
I) os ho speak to command or reply?
Must he cease or renew tho fltrht?
Shall he liiurer or Boar on hiirh?
To either ho answers, " All rlh-ht !"
11 it the blaster has bidden him " Oo I"
Aud tho death-train at once must start;
"All right "' was the fiery irlow
That a ashe 1 from the veterau'8 heart.
From the sunlight into the dark
Tiie plunge of his life-boat is heard,
Till our ears loso the sound of the bark.
Aud " All right !" is the last, brave word.
WHAT IIA1IV KOIUiOT.
You will think thlsBtory
Strange, now, I expect,
What our prociojs baby
llidu't recollect !
She had seen the sumuur
Fado into tho fall.
Watched the long cold winter.
Snow-it ikes, storms and all !
lint when bright eyed spring came,
Witli li'ir m irry traiu.
nirds, and buds, and blossoms,
Aud tho April rain,
Then our little damsel
Opened wide her eyes !
(ireat was her rejoicing,
Great was her surprise.
O the pretry violets
Hiding by tho rlils,
Iliittorciip.s, and clover blooms,
Uolden datrodilB t
ltiiuuiug streams aud laughing breeze
Hirds. and bees, and bliss !
Oh, my liaby didn't think,
Iiidu't dream of this !
ISaby had forgotten
All id out the spring !
Ail about the birds aud buds,
Every single thing !
Thought the cold gray earth
Wouldn't change her dross.
Hut go sliivoriug on and on.
For evermore. 1 guess !
-.Win. U.S. Turner, in YmttU'i
The Deacon's Sunday,
Heacou, said Mr. Ilardcap the
other night at one of our nftfcr prayer
meeting talks tho parson is insensibly
shortening his prayer meetings and the
deacon is insensibly lengthening his con
ferences; deacon, how do you manage to
keep your children in order Sunday? My
children arc just as wlid as colts. They
just hale Sunday. I havo taught 'em the
ten conimanilmenls and the catechism, and
mado 'cm learn every verse in tho Bible
that has tho word Sabbath in it, and it
don't do a bit of good, and I don't know
what to do ; I really don't.
Humility is not ono of Mr. Ilardcap's
eminent graces after prayer-meeting;
and it was refreshing and hopeful as well
ns pathetic to hear this confession for his
tono was mournful.
Well, now, said the deacon, I used to
hate Sunday, when I was a boy; and I
don't think I was such a very bad boy
either. And I resolved that whatever
happened to Sunday my children should
enjoy it, and I really think they do.
When you aro at home, said the dea
con's wife, sotto voce.
AVhat makes you like Sunday, Mr.IIard
cap? asked the deacon.
Well, said Mr. Ilardcap, hesitatingly, as
though he had never thought of tho ques
tion before, that's a kinder hard question
to answer. I I don't exactly know.
But I certainly do liko it. I would not
givo it tip for any price. You see I get
horribly tired of that old carpenter's shop
with its everlasting chips; nnd I tell you
I liko to turn the key on Saturday night,
and say to it, now old tellow, there is no
moro of you till Monday morning. Then
we kinder lay a bed a little later Sunday
morning than oilier mornings. Hannah
she has to get up pretty early every other
day to get my breakfast and get mo off to
work be-timcs, and she kinder likes to
take another nap; and I don't much ob
ject to it myself, though I don't need it
so much as she does. 1 hen wo liave our
morning baths.and get on our best clothes
and for a man that has been in his over
alls all the week it is kinder nice to dress
up a little different. And we take our
breakfast leisurely and eat a little more,
maybe; at all events, there's no hurry nnd
flurry. And then I get an hour to read
my religious paper or my and the Bible,
of course. And then we go to church,
and I see my neighbors ;that and Wednes
day evening is pretty much all the chance
I get and I liko thai. Then, of course,
there is the sermon and the worship and
all that sort of thing beside. And then,
when the children are not too noisy, I
generally got a nap in the afternoon. And
altogether I wouhi not livo in France,
where, they tell mo, men go right on with
their work as other days, for any consid
eration. Money would not hire me.
Well, now, said the deacon, what makes
you and your wife like Sunday, and look
for it, and be sorry for it when it is gono,
is that it gives you a chance to rest. You
nro hard at work all the week ; you have
all sorts of worries and euros ; you lock
them all up in your shop till Monday; and
the day that permits you to do this is a
That is about it, said Mr. Ilardcap.
Now, continued tho deacon, your child
ren don't want rest. Thoy are not tired.
They have not got any cares and worries
to lock up in their shop. They nro not
making chips. Thoy aro all full and boil
ing over with vitality. They . nro chuck
full of stoam, and when you ston the
machinery it hisses and sizzles nt every
And that is a fact, said Mr, Ilardcap,
If they are liko my children, said the
deacon, they may lie a-bed later Sunday
morning, but I don't believe they take any
I wish they did, said Mr. Ilardcap.
Somo mornings they raiso such a racket
that I cannot get mine.
What aro you going to do about it? said
Mr. Gear. Don't you believe in Sunday
In the first placo, said the deacon, I
recognize the fact that they don't need the
rest. At least they don't know they do;
so I dou't blame tbem for being a littlo
restless and obstcperons.
I try to keep them quiet for the sake of
othor pooplo, but not lor their own, nor
for the Lord's. If I toll them Sunday
morning that their mother is tryino- to -et
a nap.they will generally try to keop quTet.
But I don't say, Hush! it is Sunday. 1 sav.
Hush! your mother is asleep.. I thinkll
unfortunate that Sunday follows a holiday.
I should like to try the experiment of put
ting the holiday in the middln nf thn w o air
and making Saturday the busiest day of
all. I fancy they would be very ready to
welcome a cnange.
That is an idea, said Mr. Ilardcap.
Then in the second place, said the dea
con, I make it a father's day. All the
week the children have their mother, and
very little of me. Sunday I trv in .ritro
them father and very little of mother. We
nreakiast, late, out one rule is to be all
dresseu lor church at breakfast. After
DreiiKinsi i sit oown witn them and studv
the Sunday school lesson. Somotimes ma
joins us, but not very often. We nil studv
together, lot on my knee. She is rather
restless, and something of an interruption.
But she would think it was droadful to bo
put off without her lesson.
Then in the afternoon they pretty regu
larly play church. They get out the lib
rary steps for a pulpit. Lucy plays tbe
piano. They take turns at preaching. I
observe that they are not Presbyterians ;
for lot takes her turn at the pulpit, and is
quite ns eloquent ns nny of them. Pete
generally succeeds in reproducing some
thing ot tlio sermon ol the morning or ot
the Sunday school lesson. That makes
him more attentive to both. They pass
round tlio contributioibox, and when ma
or 1 are there we put in some pennies
which go into their sayings bank.
Ain't you kind of afraid of their mak
ing fun of church? asked Mr. Ilardcap.
Not at all, said the deacon. They arc
just as serious and reverential as you and
1 nre, however, I don t suppose 1 shall set
them at it ; and I have not encouraged
I keep Noah's ark for the little children.
said Mr. Goer. I don't let them have it
any other day.
That is a good plan, said the deacon. Ma
has for ours a Sunday sernp-book. Any
thing for Sunday that is attractive, that they
can't do on other days ;so you don't always
havo to be saying, xou must not.you must
not; but sometimes you may. Then sum
mer days I generally take lliem to walk in
the afternoon; after they are through with
tho church, and I am through with my nap.
In the winter wo have a reading circle. I
havo read through Pilgrim's Progress
twice and tnrco volumes of Dr. Newton's
sermons. Then in the evening I never go
What, never! whispered Jennie Plain
field, who had been to Pinafore tho week
Well, hardly ever, said the deacon, good
hiimoredly. I wonder if he, tho deacon
had been to Pinafore, loo. Wo go from
tbe tea table lo the parlor and have a sing.
Every one, from the oldest to the young
est, selects a hymn. Sometimes I think
tho oldest chilil rod get a little tired of
singing Pull for the Shore, which is inva
riably Tot's selection; but Tot never gets
tired. And I do believe that Sunday is the
best day in all tho week for Tot.
But I should think that you would be
tired out, deacon, said Mr. Ilardcap.
Well, no, said the deacon, you see I am
very fond of children. They rest me.
And that, I guess, is, after all, tho se
cret of the deacon's success with his Sun
day. For naturally the children are very
fond of tho deacon. Laicus in Christian
A STOKY FOR THE LITTLE GIKI.S.
It was a secret. Nobody knew it only
papa and mamma, Susio and Minnie, and
well just a lew others just enough to
keep it safe. You know it takes a great
many people to keop a secret. Uid you
know that? When you have a secret don't
you ache all over until you get somebody
to help you keep itr there is only now
and then a boy or girl or a man or wo
man, for that matter who is strong
enough to keep a secret all alone. That's
truth! Well, as I said, it was a secret
about those kittens out in the barn. Every
day Susie and Minnio would steal out
whilathe boys were all away, and pulling
the basket in which the kittens slept from
its hiding-place under the old sleigh which
was summering in ihe corner, they would
havo a royal time with tho furry little
darlings. Old mother pussy would scold
and spit a littlo when she fancied they
were too rough with her babies, but tor
the most part she was remarkably patient
and nllowod tho little girls to havo their
own sweet will and they petted nnd cn
ressed and handled to their hearts' con
But one day there camo a visitor to the
old barn. Papa Brown had a horse for
sale, and Dr. Miller called to tako a look
at him, though tho owner was nway. He
camo upon the children just as Susy was
trying to sec bow many kittens her chubby
arms would hold. And I am sure the
doctor never saw a prettier sight than
those two littlo girls playing with the kit
tens, with the sunshine lighting up the
Halloo! he cried out, what have we
here? Kittens, as I live!
Yes, sir.replied Minnie; don't you think
thoy are nice?
Indeed I do! What will you tako for the
lot? I came to buy Black Prince, but
perhaps I would do better to Invest in cat
tlesh. Tho horse might break my neck
you know, but cats never hurt one, do
They scratch sometimes, said Susy,
lisping out the words.
The doctor laughed.
Do they! Well, do little girls ever
To the doctor's astonishment, Susie
hung her head and did not give back the
quick, saucy answer which he had learned
to expect from his little favorite. So ho
wondering said :
Bow is that Susy? Do littlo girls ever
Then she burst out vehemently: Yes I
did scratch that ugly Mr. Mooro, that
comes hero to seo Tom somotinios. And
I don't care if I did. Ho called mo his
littlo curly, and tried to kiss mo, and I
wouldn't be his curly. He smokes nasty
eiirars. he does! And I told Tom if he
smoked any I would scratch him too, if he
kisse I inc.
What's the mattor with the cigars.''
asked the doctor laughing.
Susy's eyes oponod wide.
Why, Dr. Miller! don't you know! I
wouldn't let my papa smoke ono, no more
than nothing, I wouldn't! I think they is
awful. Mamma thinks so too, nnd so does
papa. I can't bear 'em. They do make
folks' breath smell so dreadful, and Susy
ended with a sniff that was very emphatic.
And wouldn t you kiss mo if I had been
smoking? asked the doctor.
No, sir, Dr. Miller; you know I
How old nre you, Miss Susy ? was tho
doctor's noxt question.
Five next September, was tho prompt
Pretty well for a four-year-old, said the
doctor. Does that grown up sister of
yours hate cigars as you do? iho question
was asked a little anxiously.
I guess sho does. I heard her say that
Mr. Moore's cigar made her dreadful sick,
and she didn't know what people wanted
to make thomsolves so disagreeable for,
adding, I guess all young ladies bate
Do you think so? asked the doctor, as
he went off to look at the black horse.leav
ing Susy to devoto herself to her kittons.
If Mr. Brown had been at home he
would very likely have had tho trado all
his own way, for Dr. Miller was consider
ing not horse-flesh, but cigars, nud say
ing to himself.
So nil young ladies hate them! I won
der if that be true? Then why don't they
lake a stand against tobacco? I would
ffive ud cisrars forever for the sake f f a
certain young lady of my acquaintance.
Little girl, do you hate cigars? Are you
like Susy, Keeping your sweet young
mouth free from contact with tobacco
polluted lipsP Temperance Banner.
That was a clever Oakland boy, who
when he was given two dollars to dig up
his aunt's ganen.hid a two-bit piece in It,
and told all tbe boys in the neighborhood
The next morning the ground was pulver
ized two feet deep. San Francisco Post.
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Words of Wisdom.
If fun is good, truth is belter, and love is
best of nil.
He shall be immortal who liveth till he
be stoned by one without fault.
No man ever re;rrcttcd that lie was vir
tuous and honest in his youth, and kept
iu,fi iiuiu iuiu i-ompaiiiuiis.
Stick to one thins until it is done, and
dono well. Tho man who chases two
hares not only loses one of thorn but is
pretty sure to loso tho other nlso.
lou ought not to ask odds of any one.
Like a blooded horse, all vou have a riilit
to demand is to be put even on the whilllo
trees. After that show your mettle.
The fortunate man is Iio who. born poor
or nobody, works gradually up to wealth
and consideration, and having got them,
dies before ho finds they were not worth
so much trouble.
Tho damps of autumn sink into tho
leaves and prepare thorn for tho necessity
of their fall; and thus insensibly are we,
as years closo around us, detached from
our tenacity of lifo by the gentlo pressure
of recorded sorrow.
No man possesses real strentrth of mind
if ho cannot, after having heard all that
others have to say, resolve and firmly re
solve what to do, and carry his resolution
lntoeneet. lake counsel of others; profit
by their experience and wisdom ;but above
tako counsel with yourself; make up
your mind what to do in the world, mid.
A habit of scolding indicates a want of
self-discipline. The machinery has got
from under our own hands, ami has fallen
lo grating and destroying itself under the
friction and perplexities of life. "Possess
thyself " is a moro important rule than
know thyself." Without this primary
virtue, we are not in a condition to receive
much good ourselves or to afford aid to
A Beautiful Thought. When the
summer of youth is slowly wasting away
on the nightfall of age, and tho shadow of
the path becomes deeper and lifo wears to
its close, it is pleasant to look through tho
vista of t'uuo upon the sorrows and fclci
lies of our early years. If wo havo had a
homo to shelter, and hearts to rejoice with
us, and friends have gathered around our
fireside, the rough places of wayfaring will
have been worn and smoothed away in the
twilight of life, and many dark spots we
have passed through will grow brighter
and more beautiful. Happy indeed, aro
thoso whose intercourse with the world
has not changed the tono of their holier
feelings or broken those musical chords of
the heart whose vibrations are so melodi
ous, so tender, and so touching iu tho
evening of their life.
Attendant on Titles. Ono of Henry
Fox's jokes was that played off on the late
Mrs. , who had a great fondness for
making tho acquaintance of foreigners.
Ho first forged a letter of recommendation
to her in favor of a German nobleman, the
Baron von Sedlitz Powdertz, whose card
was left at her door, and for whom a din
ner was immediately planned by .Mrs.
and an invitation sent in form. After
waiting considerable lime, no baron ap
pearing, the dinner was served; but dur
ing the second course a nolo was brought
to the lady of the house,with excuses from
the baron, who was unexpectedly prevent
ed from coming by the sudden death of
his aunt, the Duchess von Ep3om Sallz,
which she read out to the company with
out any suspicion of tho joke, and to the
entertainment of her guests, among
whom was tho facetious author. llrie-a
The Couutesies of Life. Wm. Wirt's
letter to his daughter on tho "small,
sweet courtesies of life," contains a pas
sage from which a deal of happiness might
be learned :
' I want to tell you a secret. The way
to make yourself pleasing to others is to
show them that you caro for them. The
whole world is Tike the miller at Mansfield
" who car'ed for nobody no, not he be
cause nobody cared for hiin." And the
whole world would servo you so if you
gave the samo cause. Let every ono,
therefore, see that you do care for thorn by
showing them what Sterne so happily
calls the small courtesies, in which there
is no parade, whose voice is too still to
tease, and which manifest themselves by
tender and affectionate looks and littlo
kind acts of attention, giving others the
preference in every little enjoyment at
the table, in tbe field, walking, sitting, or
A Small Boy's Revenv.e. The small
boy who steals rides on the street-cars
swung himself upon the platform of a
Jefferson-avenue car the other day to
come down town. Ho was mentally cal
culating tho cost per rod of street railways
when the driver looked hack and caught
sight of the top of his head and leaped oll
to give him a cut. If ono oftheso small
boys was ever hit with a driver's whip he
fore, the date has been forgotten ; but this
lad caught a stinger, and left that plat
form ns if he meant to lly. Tho driver
chuckled, but the horso didn't. For some
reason he stopped, loft tho track, tried to
draw tho enroll' the rails, and in the effort
broko a tug, jerked the money box oil' tho
rail into the mud, and might have climbed
into the car if the driver had not appeared.
While the moneywns being fished fur in tho
mud, and repairs mado, the small boy put
in his speech. Tho " ache " had left "him,
and, standing whero he could secure a
good viow of operations, ho called out :
" Kin yo tell a fellar jist V.actly how
much yer made by that 'ero job?"
Detroit Free iVcss.
A Hard Head. Every man graduated
from Willinms college in tho last twenty
fivo yoars has somo recollection of Abo
Parsons, or Abe " Bunter," as ho is moro
commonly called, from his bunting pro
pensities. A correspondent of the Boston
Journal writes : " Littlo is known of his
early life, but ho was owned as a slavo
and run away to obtain his freedom. Tho
story is told of his recognizing tho picture
of his old mistress, who had aided him to
escape, in tho room of one of tho students.
who was her son, and that after that sho
used to send him aid. Tho most powerful
blows have no effect on his cranium. Two
inch planks are shivered at a single blow,
and large sticks of wood broken in two.
At an agricultural fair ho was onco givinc
an cxhibilion of his powers by breaking
cheeses, which had beon placed in bags.
uui n grinu-siono nau Deen substituted lor
one ot them, iho first blow failod to
break it, but nothing daunted, ho made
the attempt the second time, nnd sure
enough broko it quito to piocos. At a firo
once some men wore trying to break in a
strong door with axes, but they did not
succcod in making an entrance till his
power was put in use, when the door
quickly yielded. A thousand storios might
be told of his wondorful feats, but nothing
has brought hita into notoriety so much as
his connection with J. Frank Baxter, the
spiritualist modiem. At one of the spirit
ualistic camp-meetings at Lake Pleasant,
Baxter brought up his spirit and gave a
detailed aocount of his exploits, but Abo
proved too lively a ghost for him, as he
was not dead, although reports of his
death had been published. He is now
about seventy years of age; but though he
has given up some of his feats, he can
still make quick work with a dry goods
bos or door of ordinary thickness.