Newspaper Page Text
A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c.
Vol. XI. WEDNESDAY MORNING, JULY 7, 1875. No. 27.
TE HERA Ll
y VERY WED.XESDAY MURNING,
At Newberry, S. C.
BY TH09. P. GRENEKERt
-Editor and Proprietor.
Temw5s $2.5o-pet- einnum
Invariably in Advance.
V- The paper is stopped at the expiration
time for whc it is paid.
07 The ~4mark denotes expiration of Sul
ON THE THRESHOLD OF
BT PAUL PASTX~OR.
A mother stands at twilight
- On the threshold of the sea,
Watching the golden wavelets
And the storm-birds, strong and free.
The tide flows slowly outward
To.the ocean's slumbering breast;
The storm-birds, on gray pinions,
Fade in the glowing west.
]An! round the silent figure,
in the evening's rosy glow,
Are the flitting, faded memories,
And the tides that used to flow
Up and down the sands of lifet
Run in mystic waves again
Lo! the golden flood leaves bqrm
All the hidden reefs of pain!
Do the storm-birds, as they fade
lu the crimson western, sky,
Bearing joy upon their wings,
Stir the passage of a sigh ?
Sadness fills the mother's heart
As she gazes o'er the sea;
Memories spread their folded wings,
With the storw birds, strong and free.
As the pinioned flash of gray,
When they swiftly sail from sight,
Leaves a shadowy track of gloom
* In the stauset glory bright,
So the memories that they wake,
Faditg in life's twilight 9ky,
Leave a flash of darkening gray
Stir thepassage of a sigh.
-NEW YORK OBSERER.
place to place, his eyes full of soli
tude. The instant we were in our
. own room he caught my hand in
"My darling," he said, "what
troubles you ?"
For my life I could not tell him.
I was afraid to let him know that
I doubted his integrity.
"Horace," I questioned timidly,
"do you love me?"
His fine eyes opened with aston-,
ishment. But he answered pas
"tove you? Aye, better than
you will ever know, Violet."
"Did you-have you ever loved
any one else ?" I faltered.
"Never, Violet, on my honor."
I was happy, yet not entirely
satisfied. I was a woman. Eve
ate the forbidden fruit with Para
dise all around her.
"Then who was it, I faltered, that
woman-I saw with you-this after
He started, and flushed very red
for a moment, then he laughed.
"Oh," he said "jealous, are you?
Then I am sure you love me. But,
seriously, dear I ought to apologise.
for my long absence. That woman
was a friend, an old friend of mine
-she's in distress, and I had to
help her. Are you satisfied ?"
I nodded my head in assent; yet
my heart was not quite at rest. Af
ter that we went down to the Swan's
Nest, our sea- side home, and settled
into sober married life; and for
some months our bliss was perfect;
and then that dreadful night came!
Horace has been gone all day.
He had not come to dinner as was
his custom; so after having ordered
tea. I dressed myself and sat down
in the rose shaded porch to await
him. Sunset, dusk, evening ; the
moon soaring up above the sea !
Still he did not come. Dinner and
supper had both got spoiled; the
flowers in my hair were fading, and
I was sick and weary with waiting
and suspense. Horace had never
remained away so long since our
marriage. What could detain him
so? Very slowly the evening went
by. Twelve o'clock came, the moon
dropped out of sight, leaving me
in darkness. An owl hooted out
from the top of the old willow,
and the surf beat with a weary,
I worked myself up into a perfect
tremor of alarm and nervous excite
ment; and by degrees, the old
doubt, or fear, or whatever it was,
stole back to my mind. My hus
band was cruel to keep me in such
suspense. He did not love me? It
never occurred to me that he might
be detained against his will. When
at last, the clock was on the stroke
Sof three, I caught the quick tramp
of his horse's feet. But it did not
greatly relieve me. Ifelt angry; and
inistead of running down to meet
him, as my woman's nature prompt
-ed me, I yielded to my petted, way
ward will, and kept my seat. When
he reached the porch he sprang
down fluvhed and eager.
*"Vi&zet," he cried, the moment he
caught sight of me, "and are yout
up yet ? I amso sorry."
He approached, both hands ex
tended. But I turned from him
and walked into the hall.
He stood for a moment, in silent
astdnishment, then followed and
took my hand, though I kept my
face persistently averted.
"Violet," he said, "what is it ?
-Are you ill, tired? I was sorry to
keep you waiting, but these circum
"Never mind the circumstances
now !" I exclaimed, pettishly.
-"I am very tired, and now that you
are safe, I will go to bed."
He loosened his hold on my hand,
but looked after me, as I left him,
with a glance I shall never forget.
I can see him now as he stood in
the moonlight, so handsome and
noble ; andlIloved him so well! I
wonder why I turned from him that
night. Heaven knows how it pained
me, but the spoiled, willful temper,
that has been my ruin, urged me
s Did you ever speak a harsh word
to one you love, and feel something
t within you prompting you to speak
another ? Then you understand
t how it was that I left my husband
Y standing there, weary and supper
S"Violet, dear,"~ he said softly, as~
I, paused involuntarily at the head
r of the stairs, "come back and let
me explain ; you know I have not
kept you waiting willingly."
SBut I went on without a word;
4 not to our chamber, but to a dress
e ing room exclusively my own, and
, closed and locked the door. I am
sure the Evil One must have had
I control of me that night In a lit
tle while he came up stairs and tried
a the Iock of my door ; butlIdid not
t answer-and he went away.
I A dozen times that nightlIlifted
imy throbbing head fromnmy tear-wet
~ pillow, oout to~uiploo
his forgiveness; but pride kept n
back. Thus I lay sleepless, t
morning. It was a wild mornin
too, with drifting rains and sobbin
winds, and the sea thundering c
My husband was in the breakfa
room when I went down. He tur
ed and said kindly, "Good morninj
dear. Are you quite well ?'"
"Quite well, thank you," I r
sponded crossing to a window c
the opposite side of the room.
He rose, and I hoped he was con
ing to my side; but he only looke
at his watch and said, "Be kin
enough to let me have breakfast a
once, Violet, if you can. I am i
a hurry, for I have important ma
ters to look after."
I rang the bell at once, and place
myself at the head of the tabl(
When the cheerless repast was ove
and my husband rose to go I fe
the hot tears blinding me. I coul
not let him leave me in anger.
had made a step towards him whe
he spoke, and his words aroused a
my old anger and discontent.
"Violet," he said, "I may not 1
here to dinner. Don't wait for m(
it is impossible-"
"Make no excuses, sir," I replie
haughtily; "none are needed."
Oh those reproachful eyes! Bu
his lips uttered no retort. He on]
said, "Good-bye, dear," and wen
I watched him from the windoq
hidden behind a curtain, as he rod
way through the driving rain.
The memory of that day come
back to me like a terrible dream
Towards evening my agony becam
unendurable; and as the rain ceaf
ed, I determined to drive over t
my father's house, in the neighboi
ing village. About half way w
met a close carriage containing
lady and gentleman.
"Why, that's Mr. Read !" exclain
ed my' coachman, as the vehic]
dashed past our photon.
One glance confirmed his word
It was my husband; and by hi
side was the same woman that
had seen with him once before. M
resolution was taken on the instan
I ordered my servant to drive bac
to Swan's Nest I would not awa:
my husband's return ; and I sai
to myself I could not even charg
im with his infidelity ; I would g
away at once, and never let him se
my face again. Inha short time
was ready for my departure.
wrote a note for Horace, telling him
that I believed our marriage ha
been an unwise one, and that
should be happier with my ow
friends. I begged him not to hiu
me down as a fugitive ; but to less
me to follow the b>ent of my ow
inclination. I put the note on tb
table, and went out from the houw
where my life had been so happ;
Lu less than a week, my father an
I were on our way to Italy.
At the expiration of two wrete]
ed years we returned ; and I learn
ed from our lawyer that my husban
had sailed for India, first, makin
over to me, in fee simple, all hi
eal estate. He never, so the las
yer said, expected to return.
went back to Swan's Nest. Ever;
thing was unchanged. The room~
were just as I had left them. M~
husband would not let them I
touched the housekeeper said.
"Had she heard from him?"
"Only once,"' she replied, "an
then the letter contained anothe:
and it was on my dressinag table
I went for it my3elf and rea
there in my old room:
"Violet," it began "you must pa
don this intrusion. It will be tf
last for in all human probabilit:
the disease that now consumes n
will soon give me a grave in a fo
eignland. But there are afew thina
I wish to say before I die. I WE
wrong not to explain allto you froi
the fi-st. But I desired to spai
you what you might consider a di
grace. I thought you could an
would trust me. It was my siste
you saw. She was vain and friv<
ous, and eloped with a prolligat
That marriage was illegal, and Etl
el was disgraced. She came to n
for help. I could not refuse her.
I was taking her to a safe asylu:
when I was absent that night. Yc
understand it all now. Don't I
troubled, dear, but forget me, an
be happy. My sister is dead noa
and I have not, I fear long to liv
God bless you, dear ! In heaven a
these wrongs will be righted."
For two years I lived elone
Swan'sNest-two years of inexpres
ble agony; then the news came.
ship homeward bourid from calen
ta, was lost and Horace Reade we
one of the passengers. That wi
the death of hope.
Another-year dragged by. Ox
sweetMayI strolleddown tothese
shore. The sun was settinginwav<
of gold and purple, and a full moc
came up, flooding the great se
anAd the 1n st.retch of glitterir
ie sand with misty splendor. The
.11 tide rolled in with a low musical
;, murmur. I sat down on a rock.
g Far out upon the bar a stately
n vessel swung at anchor, and a little
boat from it was coming in. I watch
At ed the tiny craft with a kind of fas
a- cination. Presently it grated on the
, sand, and a man sprang ashore.
A wild, nameless hope took shape
a in my heart. I arose and tottered
n forward, blind and half unconscious.
The instant after a strong arm
- clasped me.
d I looked up in the face above me.
d It was wan and worn, and changed
At by suffering, but I knew it in an in
b. "Oh, Horace! my husband !" I
cried, "forgive me."
a Then I felt his tears %g#my
3. cheek, his kisses on my lips, and
r, I sank into his arms insensible.
[t It is all over-the remorse the
d loneliness and the aching heart!
I We live at Swan's Nest-my dear
a forgiving husband and myself.
11 "I had engaged my passage," he
said, "in the steamer that was lost.
e But I fell ill and could not come
3; then and that sickness has re
stored me to you, thank God!"
d I thank Him also daily and hour
ly, for this undeserved, this perfect
e MADE TO "SEE 1T."
'I can't see it,' said Buffer, 'No.
body reads all these little adver
e tisements. It's preposterous to
. think it.'
o 'But,' said the editor, 'yon read
.. what interests you?'
e 'Yes.' -
a 'And if there's anything that you
particularly want, you look for it?'
e 'Well-among the thousands up
on thousands who help to make up
. this busy world of ours everything
a that is printed is read. Sneer as
I you please, I do assure you that
y printer's ink is the true open s(;ame
t to all business success.'
k And still-Buffer couldn't see it.
t He didn't believe, that one-half of
a those little crowded advertisements
e were ever read.
o 'Suppose you try the experiment,'
e said the editor. 'Just sli~p in an
I advertisement of the want of one
I of the most common things in the
a world. For the sake of'the test I
d will give it two insertions free. Two
I will be enough ; and you may have
n it jammed into any out-of-the-way
.t nook of my paper you shall select.
e Two insertions, of only two lines.
n Will you try it ?'
e Buffer said of course he would
e try it. And he selected the place
r. where he could have it published
d crowded is under, the head of
'Wants.' And he waited and saw
- a proof of his advertisement, which
- appeared as follows:
d Winw.-A good house dog.
g Apply to J. Buffer, 575 Towser
a Street, between the hours of 6 and
i Buffer went away smiling and
.- nodding. On the following morn
s ing he opened his paper and after a
ydeal of hunting, he found his ad.
e vertisement. At first it did not
seem at all conspicuous. Certainly
I so insignificant a paragraph, buried
in such a wildnerness of paragraphs,
a could not attract notice. After a
.time, however, it began to look
"more noticeable to him. The more
he looked at it the plainer it grew.
Finally it glared at~ him from the
closely written page. But that was
because hie was the person particu
, larly interested. Of course it would
e appear conspicuous to him. But it
.would not be so with others.
3 That evening Mr. Buffer was just
s sitting down to tea (Buffer was a
n~ plain old-fashioned man, and took
tea at six) when his door bell was
3 rung. The servant announced that
d a man was at the door with adog
r to sell.
~ 'Tell him I don't want one.'
.Six times Buffer was interrupted
. while taking tea by men with dogs
e to sell. Buffer was a man who
-would not lie. He had put his foot
in and he must take it out manfully.
n The twenty-third applicant was a
>e small boy with a girl in company,
d who had a ragged poodle for sale.
7, Buffer bought the poodle of the boy,
s. and immediately presented it to the
1 girl, and then sent them of.~
To the next applicant lhe was able
i truthfully to answer-'Don't want
i any more-I've bought one.'
A The stream of callers continued
j. until near ten o'clock, at which hour
,a Buffer locked up and turned off the
On the following evening, as
e Buffer approached his house, he
.found acrowd assembled. Hecout
s ed thirty-nine men~ and boys, each
n~ one of whom had a dog in'tow.~
aThere were dogs if every rd
a ie andnlo-n4m n
Buffer addressed the motley multi
tude and informed them that hi
had purchased a dog.
'Then what d'yer advertise for '
And Buffer got his hat knocke
over his eyes before he reached thi
sanctuary of his home.
Never mind about the trials ani
tribulations of that night. Buffei
had no idea there were so man3
dogs in existence. With the aid o:
three policemen he got throug]
alive. On the next morning h(
visited his friend the editor and
acknowledged the corn. The ad
vertisement of 'wanted' was taker
out, and in the most conspicuotu
place and in glaring type, he adyer
tised that he didn't want any morc
dogs. And for this advertisement
he paid. Then he went home and
pasted upon his door, 'GoNE INTO THE
CoUmTRY.' Then he hired a special
policeman to guard his property;
and then he locked up and went
away with his family.
From that day Josephus Buffer
has never been heard to express
doubts concerning the efficacy ol
printer's ink; neither has he asked,
'Who reads advertisements?'
THE CAFOMNUAN QUAI.-I
come to a species of bird essential
ly Californian, and, although it can
hardly be classed as a songster, un
doubtedly a favorite with the sports
man and the bon vivant. I refer
o the Californian partridge, more
commonly known by the name of
the "valley quail." It is the most
beautiful species of the quail family,
and is remarkable for a graceful
top-knot, consisting of five or six
feathers curved forward like a plume
on the top of the head. It is gre
garious, collecting in large coveys,
and seeking during the day the
shelter of wooded canons and
thickets, usually-in the vicinity ol
a mountain brook, and at night
roosting among the branches ol
some shady trees. The male, like
the Scotch grouse,is fond of mount
ing upon a stamp or rock, and im
the early morning niay be heard
alling his mate, uttering a peculiar
ly full and pleasant note, somewhiai
resembling the w3rd1s "luck oouch
uck," which he repeats several times.
Sometimes the first note will be
sounded two or three times in sue.
cession, with a slight pause betweer
each, and finally the two other notes
added. His call has by some writers
been designated as harsh and dis.
agreeable, but I believe most peopk
will agree with me that his cry
when heard in the early morning is
suggestive of rural pleasures and
the delightful awakening of anothea
day. The mountain quails, so called
from their frequenting the moun
tain districts, are larger and stil
handsomer birds ; they are les2
gregarious, and the top-knot, whici
looks like a single feather, is muec:
longer, and instead of hanging for
ward like that of the valley quail
droops gracefully backward. Their
call-notes resemble somewhat the
chirping of a flock of chickens
- Wi. Paton, in June Overland
SLIGrS.~-They are cheap. It cestf
nothing to turn the face, to shki
the mouth, to not see a person whc
is not before the eyes, and has ex
pectations if not claims. It is very
easy to put off the call long ove
due ; to neglect sending an invita
tion to a party to one who is noi
of much account ; to pass a formel
friend on the street without recog
nition; to go and come, ignoring th4
existence of people who have righti
and feeling. And it is as coward]y
to do so as it is easy and mean.
But the cheap, cowardly slight ii
as hard to bear as itis contemptible
How it rankles. It stings like
nettle. It is prussic acid on
wound. The very cowardliness of
it makes it more painful.. If Mist
Scornful had only had the couragt
to frankly say she does not care foi
our friendship, and prefers our roon
to our company, we could possi
bly reply with an equally politi
expression of chilliness; but to bi
droppedI out unceremoniously an
cut direct is like a stab in the dark
Society is a set of complex relations
People are bound together. The:
have duties, obligations, aaliations
Kindness and politeness are parts
of the unwritten law of social comn
merce. A slight is a sort of robber:
-a mean, pick-pocketry sort of rob
bery, too-of the notice one has
a right to expect. It may not cost
anything just to mind one's owr
business, and let a friend languis1
for want of notice and sympath:
and cheer ; but it shows what he ii
nade of, and what his friendship ii
-worth. The person who can slighi
~another is too base to ho slightei
by a second timie.
;berb from the lotui
i sih with Aelieah
- THE BOY THAT HAD NO RE
Most boys who get into the news- s
papers are very remarkable boys. e
Joe had nothing about his looks, i1
or actions, or color, that attracted a
the particular attention of anybody. b
When he first breathed the vital
air he was a simple boy-baby, with h
two hands, two feet, two eyes, two
ears, one mouth and one nose. - He d
did not laugh, and crow, and sit
upright as young geniuses do in ai
their young babyhood, but he slept, h
and waked, and ate (baby food,of
course) and cried like any common il
When he grew older there were li
no uncommon developments, except ic
that he was fat, healthy and heavy.
Nobody congratulated his mo- ai
ther on raising a future PrAsident, c<
nor applauded the bright genius
that sparkled in the baby's eyes.- it
The gossipers looked wonderingly t(
at each other as the tender mother w
watched over her baby boy, provid
ed for his comforts, and pressed him tl
to her warm bosom.
He grew to boyhood, but he' was oi
only a commom boy. He learned hi
his A B C with difficulty, and was
.slow in learning to read. His c<
teacher thought he would never get a
through the multiplication table.
But he never forgot it. fi
When the boys went a fishing, fL
Joe went too, but he was slow in
getting his line ready. The other ti
boys were on and in and around
the lake before his hook was fairly o1
settled in the water. "Too slow to s
move," the boys would say. "He'll fL
sit there expecting the fish to come ti
to him." nx
It was even so; he remained sta- s1
tionary and fixed; but when night c<
came, somehow his basket was al- w
ways full, while many of the bright,
talking geniuses went home with g
the sad intelligence that the fish b
Joe's home was full of life, and ti
noise, and bustle of intelligent older
children and bright younger ones. y
Joe found himself, and everybody
else found him, solitary and alone, a
taking very little notice of the stir ti
When he grew to be a man, the ft
bustling drive-heads laughed at his g
plodding ; but by some means he
seldom made a mistake, and though al
he did not seem to accomplish as a
much in a week as many another e;
did in aday, yet at the end of the
year there was always something si
tangible in his results, while thep
work of those who seemed to utter
ly outstrip him at first; ended in h
demolished air castles. h
He has passed the meridian of I
life. Men eminent in the profession
respect his judgment. Business a
men, coming upon the stage of ac- 1.
tion, long to learn the secret of his a
success. The bank leans upon him o
to carry it through the trying crisis, g
mierchants and manufacturers lean b
upon him to save them from bank- s
ruptcy. Steady, constant and hard
study made him a scholar ; per- o
severing industry, accomapanied with e
economy, raised him to opulence; a
close observation and deliberate
reflection cultivated a sound judg- b
ment, and honesty and integrity a
secured for him the confidence of
all who know him.
A TEsT OF LovE.-In past ages, 7j
the Russians were very much dis- j1
tinguished as wife beaters, and per- li
chance went so far as to say that, s<
"If in Muscovy the women are not a
beaten once a week, they will not a
be good; therefore they look for it a
weekly. And the women say, ify
their husbands did not beat them, o
they should not love them." This d
seems incredible ; but, singularly p,
enough, Mrs. Atkinson, in one of s:
the most recent works on Russia, ec
says: "A nursemaid of mine left j
me to be married. A short time ft
after she went to the Natchalaisk _
of the place to make a complaint t
tagainst her husband. He inquired t,
-into the matteir, when she coolly
told him that her husband did
not love her. He asked how she ,
lshe knew he did not love her.- l(
-'Because,' she replied, 'he never b
-whips me.' She resented the neg- 1
lect of her husband to give her ()
-those little attentions customary a
between man and wife."o
Herman, the perfume manufac- 12
turer, of Cannes, uses annually one ta
hundred and forty thousand pounds b~
of rose leaves, thirty-two. thousand o
pounds of jessamine flowers, twenty fi
thousand pounds of* violets, eight
thousand pounds of tube-roses, and
other perfume laden flowers in like a
proportion. It is estimated in the a
cities of Cannes and Nice, over twen- e
ty toiis of violets are consumed. Nice (
alone makes a -yearly dem~and for
one hundred and ninety-tons of
orange lessoms, and Cannes for
enehndre&aud fifty tons of acaoia
HE DIDN'T WANT ANY.
The other day a well dressed
Lranger, carrying a hand valise,
illed at a life insurance office and
iquired if the agent was in. The
gent came forward, rubbed his
ands, and the stranger asked:
"Do you take insurance risks
"Yes, sir, glad to see you, sir, sit
"What do you think of insurance,
ayway ?" inquired the stranger, as
a sat down ahd took off his hat.
"It's a national blessing, sir-an
Lstitution which is looked upon
ith sovereign favor by every en
rhtened man and woman in Amer
"That's what I always thought,"
swered the man. "Does your
mpany pay its losses promptly? "
"Yes, sir, yes, sir. If you were
sured by me, and you should die
i-night, I'd. hand your wife a check
ithin a week."
"Couldn't ask for anything better
"No, sir, no, sir. The motto of
ir company is, 'Prompt pay and
"How much will a $5,000 policy
st ?" inquired the stranger, after
'-You are-let me see-say thirty
re. A policy would cost $110 the
"That's reasonable enough," said
'Yes, that's what we call low, but
irs is a strong company, does a
fe business, and invests in only
st-class securities. If you are
inking of taking out a policy, let
.e tell you that ours is the best and
dest, and even the agents of rival
>mpanies will admit the truth of
hat I say."
"And when I die my wife will
et her money without any trou
"I guarantee that, sir," replied
"And I will get a dividend every
"Yes, this is a mutual company,
fd part of the profits come back to
"And it won't cost me but $110
>r a policy of $5,000 ?" asked the
"That's the figure, and it's as low
3 you can get safe insurance any
'here. Let me write out your poli
7; you'll never regret it."
"Them's the blanks I s'pose,"
sid the stranger, pointing to some
apers on the desk.
"Yes," replied the agent, as he
aled one up to him and took up
is pen. "What do you say-shall
fill out an application ?"
"No, I guess I won't take any to
ay," replied the stranger, as lhe
nlocked his valise ; "but if you
ant something that will take warts
lif your nose, inside of a week, I've
ot it here. It's good for corns,
unions, the toothache, frosted feet,
He was placing his little bottle
n the table, when the agent reach
a over and took him by the shoul
er, and hoarsely whispered:
"Mister man, if you don't want to
ecome a corpse, you won't be two
iintes getting out of here !"
And he wasn't.
Only female spiders spin webs.
'hey own all the real estate, and
1 males have to live a vagabond
fe, under stones and in other ob
sure places, and if they are trouble
>meabout the house, they are
ercilessly killed and eaten. The
din of a spider is tough and un
ielding, and is shed like the shells
f lobsters and crabs, to accommo
ate the animal's growth. If you
oke over the rubbish in a female
pider's back yard, and among her
st-off corsets you will find the
Lkets of the males who have paid
>r their sociality with their lives
--trophies of her barbarism, as
'uly as scalps show the savage na
ne of the red man.
The most hideous women in the
orld are said to live in the val
y of Spiti, which is a mountain
ound, almost inaccessible place,
2,000 feet above the sea, among
1e Himalaya. Their fe a tur es
re large and coarse, the expression
f their faces is usually a natural
rimace, and they hang huge rings
i their noses. They dress in thick
mieis and trousers, and their heavy
oots coming above their knees, are
Eten filled around their legs with
our for warmth.
CmCiAo's SONG.-The following.is
verse that,'repeated as many times
s desired, constitutes a popular
ong in the social gatherings of
Ther soldSam Simotis --
And young Sam Simons,
Od Sim Simon's son,
And young-Sam simonsl
Wml be saa SimonIS
wheol Sam SmnA4*40
Do NOT WoRRY Awour YoUELsmF.
-To retain or recover health, per.
sons should be relieved from all
anxiety concerning disease. The
mind has power over the body, for
a person to think he has a disease
will often produce that disease.
This we see effected, when the mind
is intensely concentrated on the dis
ease of another. It is found in the
hospitals that surgeons and phy
sicians who make a specialty of cer
tain diseases are liable to die of them
themselves; and the mental strain
is so great that sometimes people
die of diseases which they have on
ly in imagination. We have seen a
person sea-siek in anticipation of a
voyage, ere reaching the vessel.
We have known persons to die of
an imaginary cancer in the stomach,
when they had no cancer or any
other mortal disease. A blindfolded
man, slightly pricked in the arm,
had fainted and died from believing
that he was bleeding to death.
Therefore, well persons to remain
so, should be cheerful and happy,
and sick persons should have their
attention diverted as much as pos
sible from themselves. It is by their
faith that men are saved, and it is
by their faith they die. As a man
thinketh so is he. If he wills not
to die he can often live in spite of
disease, and if he has little or
no.attachment to life he will slip
away as easily as a child will fall
asleep. Men live by their souls and
not by their bodies. Their bodies
have no life of themselves, they are
only receptacles of life-tenements
for their souls, and the will has
much to do in containing the physi
cal occupancy of giving it up.
USEFUL KNOWLEDGE.-A man
walks three miles in an hour; a
horse trots seven ; steamboats run
eighteen; sailing vessels ten; slow
rivers flow four; rapid rivers sev
en; moderate wind blows seven,
storm moves thirty-six; hurricane,
eighty; a rifle ball, one thosand;
sound, seven hundred and for
ty-three; light, 190,000,; electrici
ty, 280,000. A barrel of flour
weighs 196 pounds; a barrel of pork,
two hundred ; barrel of-rice, six
hundred; barrel of powder,twenty
five; firkin of butter, fifty-six ; tub
of butter, eighty-four. Wheat,
bea.ns and clover seed, sixty
pounds to the bushel; corn, rye
and flaxseed, fifty-six ; buckwheat,
fifty- two; barley, forty-eight; oats.
thirty-five; bran,twenty; timothy
seed, forty-five; coarse salt, eighty-.
five. Sixty dIrops make a drachm,
eight drachmns an ounce, four
ounces a gill, sixteen gills a pint,
sixty drops a tablespoonful or half
an ounce, two tablespoonfuls an
ounce, eight tablespoonfuls a gill,.
two gills a coffee cup or tumbler,
six fluid ounces a teacupful. Four
thousand eight hundred and forty
square yards, an acre, a square
mile, six hund-ed and.forty acres.
To measure an -acre: 209 feet on
each side, making a square acre
within an inch. There are 2,750
languages. T wo persons die every
second. A generation g fifteen
year-s; average of life, thirty-one
years. The standing army in
Prussia, war times, 1,200,000 ;
France, 1,360,000 ; Russia, 1,000,
00; Austria, 825,000; iLaly, 200,
000 ; Spain, 100,000 ; Belgium, 95,
000 ; England, 75,000 ; United
States, 24,000. Roman Catholics
in the United States, 5,000,000.
Mails in New York city are one
hundred tons per day. New York
consumes six hundred beeves dai
ly, seven hundred calves, 20,000
sheep, 20,000 swine, in winter.
GIVING IN MARRIAGE.-When
the gentle Australian concludes
to shake off bachelorhood snd be
come a married man, or being al
ready married, concludes to do
it some more, he pursues a course
at once simple and expeditious.
Club in hand, he "lays for" the
woman ef his heart, and when an
opportunity for doing so 'without
biing caught occurs, he caresses
her with that weapon until she
falls insensible at his feet ; then he
bundles her on his shoulders, car
ries her to his ancestral hut, and
tumbles her down in a corner
to recover at her leisure- and
this constitutes the entire marri
age ceremony. There is a cheer
ful- unconventionality about this
way of getting married which con
trasts very favorably with the
cumbrous method for accomplish
ing the same end in vogue in lands
denominated civilized, and doubt
less many an urfortunate Cauca
sian couple matrimonially inclined,
compelled to stand the fire of un
meaning "congratulations," and to
breast the flood of absurd social
customs, do greatly envy the free
dom from bother enjoyed by their
Papuani cousins in the far South
- . - - ~.-j 7P.
Advertisements inserted at the rat of SIX0C
per square-one inch-for'first inaertion, arnd
7.5c. for each subsequent insertiou. "DoOle
column advertisements ten per cent on ib1ovo
,qotices of meetings, obituaries and fributc
of respect, same rame per square is ordinarT
Special notices in local colum 20 cents
Advertisements-ot marfmd.0h tOe num
ber of insertions *M. be keptj In m forbid
and charged accordiv&l..
Special,eautrAcets, ftde P-0 ~Edv
Us~ers, withlieaddclu rfi ates,
THACKERAY 0.- DANI,cNao PAi&-.
TIES.-Tbe systeni-of eiven*g ar
ties is a false and absuraodone. -la-..&
dies may frequont themn -rofes -
sionally with an eye to a hukba4(d' '
but amanuisa fool- who take ~ '
wife out of such -a*ssemblies,. hav-*
ing no other means of jadgi6g.'of
the object of -hiscoie a
are not the same pro i
wbite crapehand sAtizi-slip~~s S
you are in your morni ngdr6*. A,
man is not the same in -his II-%IL~
coat uLnd feverish glazed' ~ -v
and stiff waistcoat, as.heislin
green double breasted -fro4k,h
black ditto or his woolen4 *~2
And aman is doubly &-W
in the habit of frequentin g #j
parties, unless he is forced i
in search of a lady to' wXomi.-,
attached, or uinless -he
ed to go for his.w4fe. A
loves dancing mnay-be et;.
to be a fool; ikfd e
greatly gingutwht e 4
creasing goW. iebW ..oftb
Do not say that 'he who','
home, or frequents P, . . . . . .
balls, is a brute.,wadtii-' "
proper respc for the
on the contritry,feU.-~
it most siwcAreIF.. H
tage, not among* W94~'