Newspaper Page Text
Vol. VI. WEDNESDAY MORNING, IMAY 18, 1870. No. 20.
E;EIY W;EDYESDAY MORNING,
At Newberry C. H.,
By Thos. F. & . H. Greneker,
E:itors and Propric:ors.
1~In b- ini A dy.rce.
rr T. p . l ye p d at the expiration of
inei for wich it i ii.
7 -t nur; deaotes expiration of sub
BT T. S. AT1HUR.
Mr. 'hornton returned home at
his usual midday hour, and as he
passed by the parlor door, he saw
his daughter, a young lady of
nineteen, louniing on the sofa
with a book in her hand. The
whirr of his wife's sewing maluine
struck on his car at the same mo
ment. Without pausing at the
parlor door, he kept on to the
room from which came the sound
Mrs. Thornton did not observe
the entrance of her husband. She
was bending close down over her
work, and the noie of her ma
chine was louder than his footsteps
on the floor. Mr. Thornton stood
looking at her for some time with
"Oh, dear exclaimed the tired
woman, letting her foot rest upon
the treadle, a n d straightening
herself up. -this pain in my side is
ahmost beyond endurance."
"Then why do you sit killing
yourself there ?" said MrI. Thorn
Mr. Tiiornton's a-;pect was un
"What's the matter? Why do
you look so serious?" asked his
"IIas anythiag gone wrong?"
slightly troubled. Things had
gone wrong in her husband's busi
ness mire tn:ii once, and she had
learned the occurrence of disaster.
"ThLiings arec wv:ong all the time,"'
lie replied. in some, impatience of
--In your business?" Mrs. Thorn
ton spoke a !ittle faintly.
":N. thin;XU esp eially out the
-I don' tun lerstanid you, IIar
Won for y)u to sit, in pain
n .iastion o.er that sewing
Iline$ oVer a novel heprlr
Thtswhat I wished to say.
"It isn't. Eie's thalit. She often
asks to help meb. Bat I emtit see
the clil d put dm9 vn: to ho usehold
d1ra:i'ery. Iier timie will come
soon1 enough. Let her- have a lit
tIe case and comfoirt whl she
--If we said that of our- sons,"
replied .\ir. Thorn-tton, ":and acted
on the word, what efficient men
ther would make for life's trials
"You are wrong in thIs thing
aill wriong," con tInued tile h usband.
"Andi if Effie is a right-minded~
girn sh will have more- ti-te en
joymnZ ia then-sciousness that
she is ligXteninig heir mother's bu
dens than it is possible to obtain
fr-om the finest novel wi-it ten.
Excitement for- te imaination is
no substitute for that deep peace
of mind that ever accompanies and
succeeds the right d ischargec of
daily dutis. it is a poor comp)li
ment to El-hls moral sense to sup
pose that she c-an be content to
sit with idle hands, oi- to employ
them in light frivolities, while her
motheri is worn down withI toil
beyond heor strengthu. 11ester-, it
must not be: .
--And it shall not be !" said a
quick. iirm voic-e.
i. Thiorntton and hii s wife
started, and turned to the speake r,i
who had entei-ed the room unob
served, and been a listeneir to near
ly all the conver-sationm we have
"It shall not be:"' And Effie
came and stood by Mr. Thornton.
Hecr face was erhuison; her- eyes
flooded with tears, through which
light was flashing; lier form driawn
up crectly ; her- manr.er resolute.
"-It isn't all my fault," she said,
ais she laid her- hand on her fat her's
arm. I've asked mother a great
many times to let mec help her but
The always puts mec off, and says
its easier to do a thing herself'
than to show anothei-. Mar-be I
amn a little dull-but ever-y one
has to learn. vou knowv. Mother
didn't get heir hand in faiirly- with
that sewing~ machine for tw or
threo ' weeks; I am cer-tain it
-ontf t:ske mve any longe-. I
I could help her agreat deal. And
indeed, father, I am willing."
"Spoken in right spirit, Im;
daughter," said Mr. Thornton, ap
provingly. "Girls should be a
usefully employed as boys, and ii
the .very things most likely to b
required of them when they be
come women in the responsibl
positions of wives and mother:
Depend upon it, Effie, an idle girl
hood is not the way to a cheerfu
womanhood. Learn and do, non
the things that will be required c
you in after years, and you wil
have an acquired facility. labi
and skill will make easy wha
might come hard, and be felt a
"And you would have her aban
don all self-improvement," saii
Mrs. Thornton. "Give up music
"There are," said Mr. Thornton
as his wife pauscd for anothe
word, "some fifteen or sixteci
houis of each day, in which min<
or hands should be rightly em
plnyed. Now, let us see how Effi
is spending these long and eve
recurring periods of time. Comc
my daughter sit down ; we hay
this subject fairly before us. It i
one of great importance to yoU
and should be well considered
How is it in regard to the employ
ment of your time ? Take yester
day, for instance. The records o
the work of a day will help us ti
get toward the result after whiel
we are now searching."
Effie sat down, and Mr. Thorn
ton drew a chair in front of hi
wife and daughter.
'ake yesterday, for instance,
said the father, "how was it spent
you rose at seven, I think ?"
"Yes, sir; I came down just a
the breakfLst bell was rang," re
"And your mother was up a
half past five I know, and com
phoned of feeling so weak tha
she could hardly dress hersell
But, for all this, she was at worl
until breakfast time. Now, if yol
had risen at six, and shared you
mothers work until seven, yoi
would have taken an hour fron
her day's burdens, and certainl'
lost nothing from your music, self
improvenmenc or social int^rcourse
IHow was it after breakfast? HIov
was the morning spent?"
"I practiced :Ln hour on the pi
ano after breakfast."
"So fair so good. What then ?
"I read the -Cavalier,' till elevel
o'clock." Mr. Thornton shool
is head, and asked:
"After eleven, how was the tima
'4 dressed mvselfand went out.
"A little after twelve o'clock."
"An hour was spent in dress
"Where did you go?"
'4 called on IIelen Boyd, an<
we took a walk down Broadway.
"And came home just in tim
for dinner ? I think I mect you a
the door ?"
"How was it after dinner?"
"I slept from three until five
and then took a bath and dresse<
mysclf. From six until tea-tim<
I sat at the parlow window,"
"KRead the 'Cavalier' until I wen
"A t what hour ?"
"Now, we can make up tho ac
count," saa Mr. Thornton. "Yo1
rose at seven and retired at elev
en-sixteen hours. And fron
your own account of the day, bu
: single hour was spent in any
thing useful-that was the hou:
t the piano. Now your mothe:
was up at half past fire, and wen1
to bed from her sheer inability t<
sit at he. work any longer, at hal
past nine. Sixteen hours for hei
lso. IIowv much reading~ did yom
o in that time ?"
And Mr. Thornton looked athis
"Don't talk to mc of reading
've no time tc read !" Mrs. Thorn
on answered a little impatiently
Ihe contrast of her daughter':
de hours with her own life o
xhausting toil, did not afict hea
nind very pleasantly.
"And yet," said Mr. Thornton
, and I can remember when no day
went by without an hour or two
passed with your books. Did you
- lie down after dinner?"
3 "Of course not."
if "And didn't you take a pleasant
walk down Broadway? Nor sit
- at the parlor window with Effie?
.,How about that ?"
There was no reply.
- "Now the case is a very plain
1 one," continued Mr. Thornton.
"In fact, nothing could be plainer.
f You spend from fourteen to sixteen
I hours in hard work, while -Effie,
t taking yesterday as a sample,
t spends about the same time 11
3 what is a little better than idle
ness. Suppose a new adjustment
- were to take place, and Effie, were
I to be usefully employed in helping
you eight hours of each day, she
would still have eight hours left
for self-improvement and recrea
r tion ; and you, relieved from your
p r e s e n t overtasked condition,
i might get back a portion of your
- health and spirits, of which these
two heavy household duties have
e robbed you."
"Father," said Effie, speaking
through her tears that were fall
3 ing over her face, "I never saw
things in this light. Why haven't
you talked to me before ? I've of
- ten felt as if I'd like to help her;
- she says, that 'You can't do it,'
f 'I'd rather do it myself.' Indeed
>it isn't all my fault !"
i "It may not have been in the
past, Effie, replied Mr. Thornton.
- "But it certainly will be in the fu
3 ture, unless there is a new arrange
meut of things. It is a false social
' sentiment that lets daughters be
come idlers, while mothers, fathers,
and sons take up the daily burden
3 of work and bear it through all
the business hours."
Mrs. Thornton did not come
gracefully into the new order of
things proposed by her husband
and accepted by Effie. False pride
in her daughter, that future lady
ideal, and an inclination to do her
1 self, than take the trouble to teach
r another, were all so many impedi
ments. But Effie and her father
were both earnest, and it was not
long before the overtasked mother's
weary face began to lose its look
of weariness, and her languid'
frame to come up to an erect bear
ing. She could find time for the
- old pleasure in books, now and
then for a healthy walk in the
'streets, and a call on some valued
:And was Effie the worst for this
change? Did the burden she was
Ssharing with her mother depress
her shoulders, and the lightness
'from her step? Not so. The
languor engendered by sickness
-which had began to show itself,
disappeared in a few weeks ; the
colorcame warmer into hercheeks;
her eyes gained in brightness.
IShe was growing in fact more
'beautiful, for her mind cheerfully
Sconscious of duty was moulding
Severy lineament of her countenance
into a new expression.
Did self.improvement step ? 0,
no ! From one to two hours were
,given to close practice at the pi
Iano every day. Her mind, be
coming vigorous in tone, instead
of enervated by idleness, chose a
better order of reading than had
been indulged before, and she was
growing towards a thoughtful,
cultivated, intelligent womanhood.
She also found time, amid her
home duties, for an hour twice a
Iweek with a German teacher; and.
- she began, also, to cultivate a nat
ural taste for drawing. Now that
she was employing her hours use
- fully, it seemed wonderful how
much time she found at her dispo
-sal for useful work.
Dry white woolen stocking on
shingles cut tho dght shape and
size. Each membeg of the family.
should have a pair. or more of
these stocking boards. Pin the
hose over the upper edges and
hang on the line by strings to dry.1
They cannot shrink and need no
Passengers from San Francisco
on Thursday, the 28th ult., at 8 a.
in., arrived in New York city at 7
o'cock,.on the morning on the 5th,.
in six days and twenty-three.
hours, the quickest time yet made
A SENTIMENTAL STORY.
SIMON SHORT'S SON NAMUEL.
Shrewd Simon Short sewed
shoes. Seventeen summers, speed
ing storms, spreading sunshine,
successively saw Simon's small
shabby shop still standing staunch;
saw Simon's seif-same squeaking
sign still swinging, silently speci
fying: "Simon Short, Smithfield's
sole surviving shoemaker. Shoes
sewed, soled superfincly." Simon's
spry, sedulous spouse, Sally Short,
sowed skirts, stitched sheets,
stuffed sofas. Simon's six stout,
sturdy sons-Seth, Samuel, Ste
phen, Saul, Silas, Shadrach-sold
sundries, Sober Seth sold sugar,
starch, spices ; simple Sum sold
saddles, stirrups, screws; saga
cious Stephen sold silks, satins,
shawls ; skeptical Saul silver sal
.vers ; selfish Shadrach sold salves,
shoestrings, soap, saws, skates;
slack Silas sold Sally Short's stuff
Some seven summers since Si
mon's son Samuel saw Sophia So
fronia Spriggs somewhere. Sweet,
sensible, smart Sofronia Spriggs.
Sam soon showed strange symp
toms. Sam sighed sorrowfully,
sought Sophia Sofronia's society,
sung several serenades slyly. Si
mon stormed, scolded severely, said
Sam so silly, singing such shame
ful, senseless songs. "Strange !
Sam should slight such splendid
sales ! Struting spenthrift ! shat
tered-brained simpleton !"
"Softly, softly, sire," said Sally,
"Sam's smitten; Sam's spied some
"Sentimental schoolboy !" snarl
"Smitten ! stop such stuff." Si
mon sent Sally,s snuff-box spin
ning, seized Sally's scissors,
smashed Sally's spectacle-, seat
tered several spools. "Sneaking
scoundrel! Sam's shocking silli
ness surcease." Scowling Simon
stopped speaking, startin- swiftly
shopward. Sally sighed sadly.
Summoning Sam, she spoke sweet
sympathy. "Sam," said she,
"Sire seems singularly snappy
so sonny, stop stroling streets,
stop smoking, spending specie su
perfluously, stop sprucing so, stop
singing serenades, stop short; sell
saddles, sell saddles sensible ; see
Sophia Sofronia Spriggs soon; she's
sprightly, she's stable, so solicit,
sue, secure Sophia Sofr-oniaSprigg's
"So soon ? so soon ?" said Sam,
standing stock still.
"So soon, surely," said Sally,
smilingly; specially since sire
shows such spirits."
So Sam, somewhat scared, saun
terecd slowly, shaking stupendlous
ly. Sami soloquises: "Sophia So
fronia, Spriggs, Spriggs-Short
Sophia Sofronia Short-Samuel
Short's spouse-sounds splendid!
Suppose she should say-She !
shan't-she shan't !"
Soon Sam spied Sophia star-ch
ing shirts, smnging softly. Seeing
Sam, she stop)ped starching, salai
ting Sam smilingly. Sam stamn
'-SpI-spl-splendid summer sea
Somewhat sultry," suggested
"Sar-sartin, Sophia," said Sam.
(Silence, seventeen seconds.)
"Selling saddles still, Sam ?"
"Sar-sartin," said Sam starting
"Season's somewhat sudor-iflc,"
said Sam, stealthily, staunching
streaming sweat, shaking sensibly.
"Sartin, smiling significantly.
"Sip some sweet sherbert." (Si
lence sixty seconds.)
"Sire shot sixty snipes, Satur
day," said Sophia.
Sixty ? shoo !" said Sam. (Si
lence seventy-seven seconds.)
"See sister Susan's sunflower-s,"
said Sophia, socially silencing such
Sophia's sprightly sauciness
stimulated Sam strangely ; so Sam
suddenly spoke sentimen tally :
"Sophia, Susan's sunflowers seem
saying 'Se,muel Short, Sophia So
fronia Sprvggs, serollI serenely.
seek some sequestered spot, some
syvan shad.e. Sparkling spri.ngs
shall sing soul-stirring strains ;
swet-songsters shall silence se
slhail,"--Sophia snickered ; so Sam
"Sophia." said Sam, solemnly.
"Sam. said Sophia.
"S phIa, top htmiling. Sam
Short's sincere. San's seeking
somic sweet spouse, Sophia.'
Sophia stood silent.
"S)cak, Sophia, speak ! Such
SisspenSC speculates sorrow."
"Seek sire. Sam, seek sire."
So Sam sought Sire Spriggs.
Sire Spriggs said "Sartin."
A North Carolina "Straight
Sonme years since, when they
were buildin' the locks on Coal
River, I was over thar at Peyton's
an' I stopt in at Dr. Kellunm's who
ahyecd people in that quarter
at t'ant timle.
Taar was a famine just then,
and great sufferin' among men,
wonenl and children for want of
the necessaries of life.
LeI:stwisc it was about the
samc thing. Thar was plenty of
mewa, an' abundance of corn, and
no stercity of chicken ; but the
rive's were dry,i ai' whiskey run
enti-ely short. Some prudent
peo,lc had laidl in sufficient stock,
butimost had not. How to bring
upa family 'theut read eye was a
pu;zler, and the suffering was
)r. Kelium was inl trouble, too.
H< sympathized with his neigh
bo's: but he had a half barrel of
n iety-fi 'e pCor cent. alcohoi in
hi. ofiice, and as he was consarned
!: managed to fix up with sugar
a;' watar. an' ether, an' sich
tnck, until he made a putty fair
dink. Seein' I was a friend of
hs, he invited mc to sample it.
V ll, it kinder filled the room
wih the smell, and just then a
m;n from the Mud river country
c:me in, on his way to Raleigh
zote house. iIe smelt the smell,
am' says, "I've been nigh two
reeks from honme, an' I'm almost
'0," says Keilum, pintin' to the
<ask, "that's it. Help yourself."
Tho chap brightened up, an' be
1rawed a level tumbler"ful of that
:cohol, an' afore you could say
'scat, you beast !" down it went.
Kellum. he turned pale.
Says the man : "I'm much o
1:eeged to you. That's sarch
h' !" an' he turned and walked
Kellum set as if' he'd bin shot,
m' then jumped up.
"That won't do," says he, that's
mioughi to pizenm a crowd. i'll
all him back ai' give him an em
We both went to the door. IIe
v'asnt in sight. I run up the
kick, an' Kellum lie run up thie
r>ad :but it wasn't of' no use.
"I should'nt wonder," says Kel
ham, "'ef thant chap hasn't gone an'
died somewhar by himself Thar'll
Le a corpse f'ound directly, ani a
liawner's inkwitch, and lots of
Well, we sot thma' for about an
h>ur,. talkini' 'hout the poor cuss's
melancholy fate, when all to wonst
in walks the chap lhisself, as piei't
as a will eat.
"D)octor," says he "I'm gwine a
long way up the river, an' liquor's
skeerece, an' if it's all the same to
you, could you spar' me another
tumblerful ? It's the most satisfy
n'est Jiquor I ever drunk."
Steam Plows in Louisiana.
We learn by a Ne w Or'leans pa
pr', that 31r. Effingham Law
rnce, the owner of 31agnolia Su
gar Plan tation. bas written a letter
in answer to inquiries with regard
to his experience in using the
Fowler Steam P!ough, stating that
he has had one set of fourteen
hrse power, in use for two years
past-"plou ghiin g whlen breaking
up with the mould board plough,
to a depth from fifteen to twenty
inches, and when using the sab
siler, cultivating bet ween the cane
rows, runn ing to adepth of from
twenty to twenty-four inches."
The first forty acres broken up.by
stam in the spring of 1868, plant
ed in corn and peas, and in sugar
cane the fall of the samneyear,ga;e
a ieid of over t00,000-lbs. of dry
sugar. being over 2,500 lbs. or 24
other steam ploughed lands plant
ed the following year," the yield
was nearly as satisfactory, not
withstanding a very unp.rapiti,us
season, while other fields, "where
the stand of cane was equally as
good as that on the steam ploughed
land, but cultivated with the old
fashioned horse and mule power,
and received much more labor;
and attention than the crops on
the steam ploughed lands, did not
produce more than 1200 to 1500 1
lbs. to the acre.
Mr. L. thinks he is justified in
the conclusion that steam-plough
ing saves half the labor and pro- <
duces a return fifty per cent. bet- i
ter than any other system of cul
tivation, and that its introduction
on the rich lands of the Mississip- 1
pi Valley, and the vast prairies of
the West and Texas, will afford
the best solution of the puzzling f
labor question, and greatly in- I
crease the crops produced.
Forgery-Head Clerk Treas
ury Department in Limbo.
The Columbia Phonix says that
one of the most cunningly de
vised, villiauous and daring
schemes of rascality was recently
disclosed in Columbia. W. W.
Sampson, head clerk of the Stato
Treasury Department, and one
Captain Metcalf, late of the Uni
ted States army, and who figured
extensively in South Carolina at'
the close of the war as commaad
ant of the Post at Abbeville, Beau
fort, and other parts of the State,
are the guilty parties, so far as
discovered. The facts of the ease,
as we learn them, are as follows:
The State, in 1859, issued bonds
payable in five years, to the a-'
mount of $310,000, in aid of the
Blue Ridge Railroad. The bonds
were taken by the Blue Ridge
Railroad Company at par, to be
used by them in the construction
of their road. A number of these
bonds, which had not been used,
were stolen by a raiding party of
Federal soldiers, which passed
through Pendleton, S. C., about
the close of the war. in 1866,
two years after said bonds became
due, the Legislature passed an act
authorizing the funding of past
due bonds and tha coupons thereon.
Under this act it was ascertained,
in 1867, by the present President
of the Blue Ridge Railroad, Gen.
J. W. Harrison, that the identical
bonds stolen in Pendleton had
been funded, having prob-ably
been sold to sonme innocent parties
at the North ; but a large amount I
of the coupons were not presented
to be funded. Iz.ving free access
to the books, Samnpson was ena
bled to find ont precisely what
coupons were missing ; and, pro- I
eeeding upon this knowledge, he
and Metcalf concocted a sweet
little plan of appropri:ating some
$42,000 ; and if successful, there is
no telling to) what extent they
may have carried their thievish
Sampson, as clerk of the Treas
ury, sends on a genui ne coupon to
where Metcalf now Jives, and or
ders fac s-'nles struck off, to the
amount of $42.000. The genuine~
coupon being merely stereotyped
was easily counterfeited ; but the I
printing house in Auburn suspect
ing something to be amiss, repor- I
ted the matter to the detectives
in New York eity, and they to,t
Constable Hubbard here. Plansc
for their detection were at once
set on foot, letters were intercep
ted, a large batch of the forged
couponis seiz.ed while in transitiu
between Sampson and Metcalf, I
and yesterday, having obtained
such unquestionable evidence of1
the guilt of the parties, Hubbard
arrested Sampson heres and at the
same time Metcalf was arrested
in Auburn. Sampson is now in
jail, and bail to the amount of
$25,000 being required for his re
lease, will probably remain there
till the time of trial. WYe have it
from good auth.ority that the inti
m-ations are that more persons in
and about the capital than W. W.
Sampson are implicated in bhis
"God save the State !"
The best eure for dirt-the w;-2
te- ce. t
TORtY OF A ooyEtNESS IN ENGLAND.
A correspondent of the London
relegraph vouches for the follow
ing as a true story :
"A few days ago I stood by the
ide of a dying girl, her age was,
seventeen, and this is her history:
The was the youngest child in a
arge family. IHer mother was
:he widow of a clerk in a city
>ank, who died suddenly, leaving
As wife and children destiute.
[ier sisters went out as gov
;rnesses; she remained at home
tntil increasing want rendered it
lecessary for her, too, to ~make
icr own living. She fo:ind em
)loyment as a daily governess
3he walked each day four miles to
tnd from her work, and received a
ew shillings a week. All day
ong she toiled, getting no rood
antil she reached home in the
avcning. Who does not remember
.he hot Summer of last year?
rhrough the glare of that cloud.
ess season this poor child starved
)n. The sun withered up flower
ud shrub and a)so withered the
>rain of the daily governess.
"Day by day her strength melt
,d away; at last she broke down.
The could go no noi-e to the daily
esson ; it was too ate now to
-ive her food, kindly smiles, or
nore wages. 11er cry from morn
o r.ight, as she rocked to and
'ro, prsssing her hands on her
)urning forehead, was, 'Mother,
nother, my brain is gone.' One
lay she was found with one hand
opying verses from the Bible,
Lnd with the other had g-wshed
ierself with a knife. It was then
first heard of the case. I ad
-ised her mother to send her to
:be hospital for the insane. My
xdvice was taken. I often went to
nquire after her. I found the
>lace full of sovernesses. and.all
he kindness could do seemed to
)e done for them. She soon bt
ame a raving lunatic.
"One day I took two of her sisters
o see Ler. It was their first visit
,o the hospital, and they brought
ome flowers to give the patient.
Chey were just in time to see her
lie. In her cell, with an angel
mile on her young face, lay the
ittle governess. She had fought
he fight of life to its bitter end,
Lnd all was over now ; and with a
ook as though she blessed the
vorld which killed her, her young
spirit passed away to God.
"There was a post mortem ex
nination. Congestion of the brain
xas the cause of her death-hard
wvork, they said, the cause of the
:ongestion. A little food, a little
rind thoughtfulness on the part of
.hose who employed her might
iave saved her life and the broken
ieart of her widowed mother.
The birds were singinig gayly.
,he sun was shiining brightly, as
.hey laid her by her father's side
u a quiet country grave. There
yere few mourners, but some poor
blildren and an old cripple, wh.m
he taught and to whomn she read
he Bible on Sundays-her only
iolidays-eamc some miles to see
he last of the little teacher.
~Sir-, in telling this story, I do
lot cast blanme on any one, but I
hope those who read it, if they
:mploy governesses, will rememn
>er that human ereatuires are not
nere machuincs; and if they see
hem fagged and worn, will think
>f the story of this poor child,
those soul now rests in a kindlcer
vorld than this."
A correspondent of the Country
sentlemnan says that tomatoes
vant water almost as much as
lucks, but as the vine is hardy
,nd will stand almost any amount
if heat and drought, few supply
he water it demands. In ord,e? to
nake wointoes ripen quickly, they
hould be watered at least once a
laThe evening is the best time
Mrs. Woodhuli never would
iave announced herself as a can
lidate for Fresident, had she
snowa it, was a virtual acknow
dgement that she was forty-five
ra.rs old. But "that card is bard
d," and she can't take it back now.
he is entered for the race, bestI
Advertisements inserted st the rate of $1 S1
Rer sguare-one inch-fdr first inma, ard
:1 for each subsequent insation. Saahti
colama advertisemenis ten per cent oriebovu.
ties of rntitgs, obituaries and trlbtutes
9 respect, sag ras per square as 1M ,
Special notices in local column 20 een:as
Ad.ertisements not marked with the ama
tpr of insertions will be kept ii tilt btLid
ang chargel acordingly.
Special contracts rtade with nrM* after
tisers, with liberst dctions oa abpverarc
Dne with Ne3tgess and Di.pate.
E.st-avagant parents must eo.
peet to have extravagant childrrn;
and when masters and mistresses
do not economize, they catt se,ee
ly expect the servants to do so.
There is a vast difference be
tween economy and stinginess. Tbn
former is laudable-the latter d.
spicable. Prudent persons, wbo
study their expenses closely, are
likely to set aside teo-tweliet h*
of their yearly incomne for con
tingencies ; six-twentieths for
household expenses; three-twen:
tieths for servants and nsa
ments; four-twentieths for e4uc
tion of children, personal expense.
etc.; and- four-twentieths for rent,
wear and tear of furniture, ir.'
surance, etc. For e. ample, Qup.
pose your income to be $I,6O
year, you expend $600 for food,.
$300 on servanpts, etc., $400 fur
rent, while there remains $300 for
a,n accumulating fund. Ifyour ini
come is fluctuating, be sure and
set aside six-twentieths of it for
reserve fund, and divide the rext
of the income as above. There is
a great deal in management. Soame
house-keepers will make $3,000 go
farther than others will $4,00.
The habit of spending money
needlessly, in the gratifcstion of a
host of imaginary wants, is oae les
to which our young men and wu.
men are too apt to fall. The fu#y
of this, they can see and acknowl
edge, and yet they have not the
resolution to. pursue a differen>
course. We call upon all our read
ers who are not blessed wktit @Lber
dant means, to ponder npon these
things-to abstain from present
expen.ditges. and lay up a stated
amount of their jnoo.e every
There is many a man who keel a
himself poor, by indulging in tl.g
following trifling eggens.es a
'Ima mnaeadt at ten
cents-$73 per yeait.
Three cigars a dhy, at ten eentat
each-$IO9 50 !
Making nearly $20% worse than,
thrown away, sineeo ma?t h'ese
and the nicotine stupefy the brain.
That $200 would pay the pr ,.
mium upoa a life itasatranee for the
benefit of wife and children, or it
would save, perhaps, an overba,.
dened mother form needless toil in
her old age. It is pitiful to think.
of the tens and hundreds of thoe.
sands of doth:.rs which a.re yearly
consut3,ed in. smoke and,~ i o.ors
which debase ari brutify man,
"who was made a little lower thana
the angels." Well might Jeresiuak
say -"God made man upright,
but lhe bath sought out many in
ventions."-Hearth and Home.
DISCOVERY IN CUDUsr.-Nr.
Theophile Ig.dislas Scweskofski,
one of the. eleverest pupils of]
ron Liebig, haR just made an. as-.
tonding discovery in chemisty
viz: the silicious and aunoas
ethers. It is but necceessary to
pour into, a champagne glass a
certain quantity of these two
ethers to produce almost i.nstsa,
tancously the most sptif.ci.cut
stones; combined with v-ery pure
oxide of iron the alumiaous ether
produces ruby ; with sulphate of
copper, the sapphire ; wit b salts ot
manganes, the amethyst; wici
dof nickel, the emerald. With
salts of chrome the silicious ether
produces the different coloratioto,
:f the topaz. These oth~ers evag
rate with a penetrative perfumis
whiehseveralpersons have declaredl
to be very agreeable. The salta
:-rystalize very regularly as sood~
is the liquid part has gone. The
::orindons obtained through thi
mieans are not ganite as hard as the
natural one; g ht 4' the operatipa
is edrefully done the brilliancy i-a
admisable, The silica and the
alumina which constitute t h o
earths and clays are priuc.ples
easily found in the different parts
:>f the globe ; and the preparationa
of the new etbers, though delicates,
::osta. very little. This diseovery
will bring forth a revolution not
ynly in the jewelry, but in moa.&
af our industrial arts.
DzumouMs or Sntsme.-A Sti.
Louis paper, speaking of a family
.n New York that made a fortuno
mut of whiskey, says they live on
Eventy-third street, inpef
fe!iriur. trenien Qf spendor.