Newspaper Page Text
A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c
Vol. XI. WEDNESDAY MORNING, JULY 28, 1875.
EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING,
At Newberry, S. C.
i rubly in Advance.
--r itopped at the expiration of
. The M' m&,denotes expiration of sub
Once 'twas my saddest thought,
Ere I began to doubt you,
That sometimes I must learn,
'erhaps, todo without you.
For death parts dearest friends;
-From him there's no escaping;
And partings worse than death
-Our fars are ever shaping.
Now with new dawns of hope
No thought of you is blended;
Day deepens evermore,
Though morning dreams are ended.
And now the saddest thought
That haunts my heart about you
Is this-that I have learned,
At last to do without you.
THE BOON AFFAIR.
A sTRANGE STORY OF CIRCUMSTAN
On the mcrning of the 28th of
November, 1819,1 read in the Rut
land (Vt.) Herald the following
'-Printers of n e wsp ap ersa
throughout the United States are
desired to publish that~ Stephen
.8oern, of Manchester, in Vermont,
is sentenced to be executed for
the murder of Russell Colvin, who
blieen absent about seven years.
Any person a ho can give informa
tion of said Colvin may save the life
of' the innocent, by making imme
aiate communication. Colvin .is
abogveeet; five inthes high,
lighA complexion, light hair, blue
eyes~ and about 40 years old.
Manchesgr, Vt., Nov. 26, 1819."
This: ~in niio was copied
very generally by newspapers,
sad createda ;great deal of interest.
Beifore describindr events that fol
lowed, 1st us go back to the year
lamd to the little town of Man
B~a'ney Boorn, an old man, had
two sons, Stephen and Jesse, and
a daughter, Sarah, wife of Russell
Colvin, a half-crazed, half-witted
day laborer. They were a bad lot,
poor, ignorant, and in doubtfal re
pate for honesty. T wo miserable
hovels served them for sh6lter,
and' a few acres of pine barrens
-constituted all their possessions.
MjIheyraised a few potatoes and
garden vegetables, and eked out a
yagacgtylivelihood by. days work
for the neighboring farmers.
In May, 1812, Colvin was at
home. In June he was missing.
At first this occasioned no remark.
"He was always a tramp, absent
from.homie sometimes for weeks
together. But this time he did
~not come back. As weeks grew
into months inquiries began to be
madr among the neighbors about
the.missing man. There are no
tongues for gossip like those which
wag in a Yankee village. One
spoke to another. Excitement
grew. Wonder, like a contagious
disease, affected everybody.
It was known that there had
long existed between the old man
and boys a gradge against Colvin;
it was in proof that the last time
the missing man wras seen he was at
work with the Boorns clearing
stades from a field, and that a
dispute was going on; and Louis
Cojvin, a boy, son of Russell, had
stated that his father had struck
ils ncle Stephen, and that the
other had returned the blo w, and
that then he, the boy, becoming
frightened, ran away. Again a
Mi' taldwin had heard Stephen
Boorn, in answer to the inquiry
as to where Colvin was, say, "He's
gone to hell, I hope."
"Is he dead, Stephen ?" pursued
"I tell you again," replied the
man, "that Colvin has gone where
potatoes won't freeze."
For seven years the wonder
grew. -Colvin's ghost haunted ev
ery house in Bennington county.
There was no known proof that
the Boorns were guilty, and yet
everbodyhelieved it. A button
. Five years after Colvin was
missed, Stephen Boorn, removed
to Denmark, N. Y., while Jesse re
mained at home. After the former
had left some bones were accident
ally found in the decayed trunk of
a tree in his house, and, though all
surgeons said to the contrary, it
was universally believed that they
were part of a human skeleton.
Of course, then they must be Col
vin's bones. Jesse was arrested,
Stephen was brought back from
Denmark and both were held for
examination. Although all the
testimony when sifted was found
to be worthless, yet two brothers
were remanded back to jail, and
Jesse was worked upon to make
him turn State's evidence. The
jailer tormented him with sugges
tions, which his wife followed up'
with womanly adroitness. Neigh
bors helped. Beset with preach
ing and prayers, tracts, and ser
mons, religious conversation and
pious directions-that there was
no doubt in any one's mind but
that Stephen committed the mur
der-urged to.make a clean breast
of it and thus save his body and
soul, what wonder that the man
confessed, or was alleged to have
confessed, that Stephen Boorn did
murder Russell Colvin ?
On Sept. 3, 1819, the grand jury
found a bill of indictment against
Stephen and Jesse Boorn for the
murder of Russell Colvin. Wil
liams Farnsworth testified that
Stephen confessed that he did it and
that Jesse helped him; that they
hid the body in the bushes then
buried it, then:dug it up and burn
ed it, and then scraped the few
remains and bid them in a stump.
Upon this unsupported evidence
the jury returned a verdict of guil
ty against both prisoneis, and they
were sentenced to be hung on Jan.
And now the men came to their
senses. They asserted their inno
cence. They said that they had con
fessed as their last hope. Somecom
passion began to be felt for them.
They might, after all, be innocent.
A petition for their pardon was
presented to the Legislature. But
it availed only to obtain commu
tation of Jesse's sentence to im
prison ment for life. No more.
Stephen was to be hanged.
Let the reader now turn to
another chapter of this strange
In April, 1813, there lived in
Dover, Monmouth county, N. J.,
a Mr. James Polhamus. D u
ring that month a wayfarer, beg
ging food,- stopped at the door.
Being handy, good-natured, quiet
and obedient, homeless, and weak
of intellect, too, he' was allowed
to stay. lie said his name was
Russell Colvin, and that he came
from Manchester, Vt.
Not far from Dover lies the lit
te town of Shrewsbury, then a
quiet hamlet, now invaded by the
cottages and villas of Long Branch
pleasure-seekers, Here lived Ta
ber Chadwick, brother-in-law to
Mr. Polhamus, and intimate with
the family. Accidentally reading
the New York Evening Post, he
met, not with the notice of the
Rutland Herald, but with an ac
count of the trial of the Boorns.
Convinced that the Russell Colvin,
alleged to have been murdered, was
the very man living with Mr. Pol
hamus, he wrote to the Evening
Post a letter, which was published
Dec. 9, 1819.
Upon the arrival of this paper
at Manchester it excited but little
attention. The letter was believ
ed to be a forgery or a fraud.
Md not the best people in the
town long believed the Boorms to
be guilty ? Had not one, perhaps
both, of them, made full confession?
The bones of the murdered man,
a portion of his coat, his jack-knife
-had they not all been found ?
Had not an uprigbt Judge made
solemn charge that the evidence
was conclusive, and 'an intelligent
jury found them guilty, and the
Legislaure sanctioned the findings?
There was no doubt of their guilt
-none whatever, and therefore
no benefit of a doubtehad been
given by jury, Chief Justice or
Court of Appeal.
Mr. Chadwick's letter was,never
theless taken to Stephen's cell and
ead alond. The news was so
overwhelming that nature could
scarcely survive the shock. The
poor fellow dropped in a fainting
fit to the floor, and had to be re
covered by dashes of cold water.
Intelligence came next day from
a Mr. Whelpley, formerly a resi
dent of Manchester, that he him
self had been to New Jersey and
seen Russell Colvin. The r-Lembers
of the jury which had convicted
the Boorns, however, hesitated to
accept anything short of the man's
presence, and Judge Chase, who
had sentenced them, pointed to
Stephen Boorn's confession.
The third day came another
letter. "I have Russell Colvin
with me," wrote Mr. Whelpley.
"I personally know Russell Col
vin," swore John Rempton; "he
now stands before me." "It is
the same Russell Colvin who mar
ried Ann Boorn of Manchester,
Vt.," made affidavit Mrs. Jones,
of Brooklyn. But it woqld not an
swer. Pride of opinion is stub
born. Doubt of opinion dies hard.
Manchester intelligence, not to say
piety, was on trial and it behooved
all good residents to hold out
against conviction to the last.
However, Colvin, or Colvin's
double, was on his way. As he
passed through Poughkeepsie the
streets thronged to see him. His
story was printed in every news
paper and told Lt every fireside.
At Hudson cannons were fired; in
Albany he was shown to the
crowd from the platform; and all
along the road to Troy bands of
music were playing and banners
were flaunting and cheers were
given as Colvin passed by. Some
men become famous from having
been murdered. Russell Colvin
was famous because he was alive.
Towards evening on .Friday,
December 22, 1819, a double sleigh
was driven furiously down the
main street of Manchester to the
tavern door. It contained Whelp
ley, Kempton, Chadwick, and the
bewildered Russell Colvin. Im
mediately a crowd of men, wo
men and children gathered around,
and as the sleigh iIoaded its occu
pants and they took their place
on the piazza, exhibiting the last
man to view, "That's Russell Col
in sure enough! There's no doubt
about it I" came from the lips of
scores of gazers. He embraced
his two children, asked after the
Boorns, and started for the jail.
The prison doors were unbolted
and the news told to Stephen
"Colvin has come, Stephen," said
the Rev. Lemuel Haynes.
"Has he 7" asked the prisoner.
"Where is he ?"
"Here I am, Stephen," said his
brother-in-law. "What's that on
your legs ?"
"Shackles!" replied Boorn.
"What for ?"
"Because they said I murdered
"You never hurt me in your
life," replied Colvin.
The sequel is soon told. Ste
phen Boorn was released from pris
on, as was Jesse also. Russell Col
in returned to New Jersey. But
the judge who suffered an innocent
man to be convicted of murder
by the admission of extra-judicial
confessions-the members of the
jury, who deliberated but one hour
before agreeing upon a verdict of
guilty upon evidence that should
not hang a dog-the deacon and
church members who urged confes
sion and preached repentance-and
the ninety-seven members of the
Legislature, sitting as a Court of
Appeals, who refused re-hearing of
evidence-what became of them ?
Of this be certain, that no
trade can be so bad as none at all,
nor any life so tiresome as that
which is. spent in continual visit
ing and dissipation. To give all
one's time to other people, and
never reserve any for one's self;
is to be free in appearance only,
and a slave in effect.
The accumulation of wealth is
followed by an increase of care,and
by an appetite for more. He who
seeks for much will ever be in want
for much. It is best with him to
whom Providence has given that
which is sufficient, though every
annem-anit be withheld.
THE GRANGERS ON CO-OPE
The Grangers, or Patrons of
Husbandry, still have a large or
ganization, although it has greatly
shrunk from the dimensions of its
best estate. Many persons who
joined it under the belief that it
was the rising power, destined to
become a formidable element in
American politics, Lave deserted
it now that it has conclusively
shown its weakness. At this mo
ment the Patrons are unable to
control the election of a single
Western State, and are reckoned
of so little importance that the two
great parties have ceased to flat-.
ter them in the platforms of their
annual conveitions. The Gran
gers have been hardly less fortu
nate in their efforts to compel the
adoption of lower rates by the
railroad monopolies. This was
their primary purpose, and in their
contest with those tyrannical cor
porations they had the good-will
of a large majority of the Western
people who did not belong to the
order. For a while the railroads
feared their new enemy, and sho w
ed a disposition to propitiate them,
but this disappeared as soon as the
numerical strength of the Grangers
was revealed at the polls, and was
seen to be far less than had been
estimated. The Grangers are no
longer dreaded by the railroad
combinations, any more than by
the Republicans or Democrats.
The failure of this society in its
great aims is due to the bad man
agement which has afflicted it from
the beginning. It was projected in
good faith b3 the farmers of the
West. They sought to make it the
means of mutual protection and
material advancement, but the
politicians who soon came to the
head of it, saw in it only a
new instrument to be used for
their own benefit, to secure offices
and plunder which they could not
hope to get from the rival parties
of the4day, We w a ae 4 the
Grangers against the danger of
allowing politicians to take charge
of their affairs, and the result
has exactly accorded with our pre
diction. A body which at one
time promised to do a needed
work of economy and reform at
the West, has degenerated to a
mere faction now almost wholly
destitute of influence, and visibly
dwindling day by day. At the
late meeting of the Executive Com
mittee of the order at Washington,
the great question seems to have
been-how to utilize the remains
of the Grangers so as to keep them
from absolute extinction ? For this
purpose a new scheme has been
proclaimed-that of establishing
co-operative societies, under the
Granger auspicies, on the plan
which has been successful in some
parts of Great Britain. The ex
treme good fortune which has at
tended a few of the co-operative
unions in England has long excited
the interest of sociologists in this
country, but in no instance, we be
lieve,bas the :English method of co
operation been adopted. In fact,co
operative enterprises of any kind
are very scarce here-the genius
of the American people favoring
freedom and individuality of ex
ertion in business operations rath
er than combinations of rich and
poor, and weak and strong.
Should the Patrons of Husbandry
be able to transplant the English
system of co-operative industries
in America, and make it thrive
here, they will have accomplished
a great feat for this country and
this people and this time seem all
unsuited for it. Co-operation ap
pears to us to have its proper home
i a land overcrowded with human
beings like England, where the
millions are almost hopelessly shut
out from the attainment of even
a moderate property by their
own labors,'aind naturally cling to
each otheria a mutual effort to bet
ter their impoverished condition.
In. looking over the list of highly
prosperous - co-operative societies
in Great Britain, some persons for
get to inquire, and perhaps do not
care to know the number of those
which have miserably failed. We
har mnnh ni the "Stockdale plan."
and a few others which have turn
d everything to gold and built
up whole villiages of factories, I
(welling-houses and stores from
humble beginnings. These are
the boasts of English co-operation,
und if the Grangers can make the
Western wilderness blossom after
this profitable fashion, their expe
rimont in co-operation would be P
a blessing indeed. But they must
not expect to do it by any pecu
liar virtue that resides in the co
operative priaciple i t s e I f. A
thousand men combining capital tl
and labor in the establishment of
a co-operative farm, or foundry;
or store, or anything else, are all it
the more liable to fail by reason
of their number, unless the busi- b
ness affairs of the association are t
conducted by one clear-headed, in
corruptibly honest and masterful
man. Such a rare pet-son giving s
all his time and his abilities to
the organization - studying its VQ
best interests with preoisely the
solicitude he would bestow upon
his own concerns-may be capa
ble of making co-operation pay.
Iu all the English rses quoted it b
will be found that the surpass- it
ing business talent and integ- 0
rity of the general manager or su
perintendent has made them pros- Y
perous; while divided councils, b
poor judgment and the lack of
strict honesty have been the ruin
of hundreds of the most promising E
of co-opeartive undertakings.- fl
The Granger should study the
causes of failure, as well as those v
of success, in the English oo-oper.
ative forms, before they seriously
essay to adopt them here. h
[N. Y. Journal of Commerce. t
HE DOESN'T SUIT.-There was ti
a man named James A. Johnson, 'I
otit in California, who has been in u
Congress two terms, and who re
turned to his home as poor as b
when he went awy. The Xen- a
docine Dispatch has hoisted his ti
name as a candidate for Governor, g
and speaks of him -as in every b
way a man. We think a man who l(
has passed four years in Washing- t
ton, without becoming corrupted,
could be trusted any number of
years in California. The Virginia t
(Nev.) Enterprise, after speaking n
in terms of eulogy of Mr. John
son, says: This calls to mind an y
anecdote to the point. When
Johnson's name was under discus- a
sion for the Gubernatorial nomi- d
nation, one of the constituents, in b
Colusa county, spoke desparingly
of him. n
"What's the matter with John
son ?" asked a friend. y
"Why, the man, is a fool," said si
the constituent. c
"How so," was the next inquiry, n
"Why, Jim Johnson has been in q
Congress two terms, and he had
to borrow money to pay his fare a
from Colusa to MNarysville. Now,
if I'd been in his place I'd have
owned a quarter section of the
Northern Pacific 1Railway." s
It isn't natural that a man of
that sort should go very strongly
for Johnson. r
A LAwYER SotD.-A horse trader si
got away with a lawyer in the a
following neat style :
"How many drinks had you ta- t<
ken that day?"
"One or two. Igenerally drink o
whien I feel dry." s
"Well, how many drinks do you s3
usually take in a day ?"
"Sometimes one or two, some- n
times ten or twelve. I have taken 3s
as many as seventy drinks in a t)
"Ah! seventy drinks did you si
"Yes, I said seven ty." f
"About how much did you take .E
at a drink ?" p
"About half a tumblerful." I
"And you did not get drunk ?" ii
"Not in the least." r
"Seventy drinks did not make
you drunk ?"e
"What kind of liquor did you p
"That will do, you may step d
The destiny of any nation atc
any given time depends on the a
opinions of its young men under g
OUR SLOUCH WAYS.
ORE TRUTH THAN POETRY OR FUN
'Hallo, stranger, you seem to
D going to market?'
'Yes, sir, I am.'
'What are you carrying that
low along for?'
'Going to send it to Pittsburg.'
'To Pittsburg in Pennsylvania?'
'You're mighty right; I am.'
'What are you going to send it
'To get it sharpened.'
'All the way to Pittsburg to get
'You bet! We've started our
lacksmith out; he pulled up stakes
ie other day and went to Texas.' 1
'Well, that's a rather novel
lea my friend-sending a plow
> far to get sharpened.'
'Not so novel as you heard it
as. We do our milling in St.
'Is that so?'
'You're right it is. We used to
ave a mill at Punkinvine Creek,
at the owner got too poor to keep
up, and so we turned to getting
ir grinding done at St. Louis.'
'You don't mean to say you send
our grist all the way to St. Louis
'I didn't say nothing about grist
-we hain't got no grist to send.
at we get o ar :our and meal
om St. L:>uis.'
'I see you have a hide on your
'Yes our old cow died last week.
[arch winds blowed the life out'n
er. Sendin' her hide to Boston
) get it tanned.'
%.11 the way to Boston ? Is not
iat rather expensive, my friend.
'he freights will oat the hide
'That's a fact-cleaner than the
azzardb did the old critter's car
iss. But what's the use bein'
Led to build railroads'thout you
t the good of 'em? Used to
ave a tanyard over at Lickskil
it and a shoemaker, too. But
'Keiummuxed-what's that ?'
'it means gone up aspout,-and
vixt you and me, that's mighty
igh the case with our State.'
"When do you expect to get
our leather ?'
"Don't bxpect to get no leather
b all-expect to git shoes, some
ay, made at Boston or therea
'Rather a misfortune to lose a
bilk cow, my friend.'
'Not so much a misfortune as
ou heard it was. Monstrous
ght of shuckin' and nubinin' a
aw and milkin' her night and
ornin' and gettin' only about 3
uarts a day.'
'What are you going to do for
'Send North for it.'
'Send North for milk ?'
'Yes; concentrated milk and Go
'Oh ! 1 see the point.'
'Mighty handy things these rail
>ads-make them Yankee fellers
o all our jobs for us now-do our
nithin', and grindin', and tannin',
ad milkin', and churnin'.
'I see you have a bale of cot
'Yes, we go our bottom nickel
a cotton. Sendin' it up to Mas
whusetts to get it carded, and
un, and wove. Time'll come
rhen we'll send it there to be gin
ed, then we'll be happy. Mon
rous sight of trouble runnin'
'That would be rather expensive,
anding cotton in seed.'
''ho more so than them Western
llers pays when they send corn
|ast and get a dollar a bushel and
ay six bits freight. Besides, as
said, what is the use of pay
ig for railroads 'thout we use the
'I think we ought-we pay
rough for 'em.'
'I rockon you fatten your own
'Well, you reckon wrong, stratn
er. I get them Illinoy fellers to
o that for me. It's mighty con
enient, too-monstrous sight of
ouble toting a big basketful of
>rn three times a day to hogs, in
pen-especially when you hain' t
ot none to tote it to.'
' should think so.'
Advertisements inserted at the rato of S'.00
per square-one inch-for first insertion, and
75c. for each subsequent insertion. Dobible
column advertisements ten per cent on abc ve
Notices of meetings, obituaries and tribi.e
of respect, same rates per square as ordinary
Special notices in local column 20 ccnts
Advertis3ments not marked with the ntm
ber of insertions will be kept in till forbid
and charged accordingly.
Special contracts made with large adver
tisers, with liberal deductions on above rates.
Jo Pa wAr
Done with Neatness and Dispatch.
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER WHO WAS
ENGAGED IN THE PLOT TO FIRE
RICHMOND AND CAPTURE JEFF DA
VIS AND HIS CABINET.
The :ears which have flown
since the last gun's echo died away
and the drifting smoke floated
down the valleys of Virginia have,
in a measure, served to obliterate
many of the questions which, at
that time, were uppermost in the
public mind. But the recent let
ter published to show that General
Beauregard was such an earnest
advocate of black flags and no
quarter to prisoners naturally has
served to recall inany of the char
ges made subsequently well sub
stantiated against that Federal
raider, Colonel Dahlgren, of Rich
It has not been forgo,tten how
this leader pierced the Confederate
lines through an unprotected route
made for the city of Richmond,
followed by his troop of cavalry.
After his death and the rout of
some and the capture of his com
mand, it was publicly charged.
that his bold expedition had for
its object two things-firat, the
capture of President Davis; and '
second the burning and sacking of
Rich mond,without regard to what
ever might be the loss of life to
women and children. Dispatches
found and combustible material
captured corroborated this 4llega
tion and when the direct statement
was made the Northern press in
dignantly denied its correctness.
As Daniel Webster, in his cele
brated speech to a jury, said, "Mur
der will out;" and now, after ten
years have stolen away, steps forth
a witness who at the risk of much
personal discomfiture, fully and
with every internal evidence of
the truth of his tale, relates a sto
ry, which, for its terrible inhu
manity, is a fit nut for those to
crack who so thirstily seek out
such subjects from the events of
the late war.
A private of the Thirteenth In
fantry United States army, a regi
ment now quartered in this city,
yesterday made the following vol
untary statement relative to the
I am now a private in the army.
I belonged at the time when the
Dahlgr'en raid upon Richmond,
Virginia, took place, to company
.E, Fifth Michigan cavalry, and I
took part in the advance with Dahl
gren on Richmond. I was under
his command from the commence
ment of the raid, and I don't think
there are more than seven of the
party now living. In regard to
the purpose of our advance .1 can
only say that almost every man
in the command knew them. They -
were these :, To capture Davis
and his cabinet, and then 'to fire
the town at once.
We had along with us the things
to do it, and if we had got in would
have done it.
Colonel Dahlgren said in my
hearing that the Cabinet must be
captured at all hazards, and then
the fire must be touched at once.
No one was to be assassinated, but
the fire-balls we had were to be
used right off by the men all over
the city. I heard some officer
speak about hanging Davis if he
was caught. There is a lieutenant
living who can verify all that I
Perhaps they may put me in
the guard-house, or make me-work '
outside for telling this, but .it is
true. Kilpatrick was to look af
ter the Libby prisoners and xe
lease them, and they were to arm
themselves in some armory in the
city and come over and join us.
The above needs no commenta
ry. The publication as made in
the Conservative press is now
proved to be true, and Colonel
Dahlgren will receive the deserv
ed obloquy of his attempted deed.
[New Orleans Bulletin:
There is nothing like courage an
misfortune. Next to Taith in over
ruling Providence, a man's faith in
h imewlf is his salvation. It makesa
'There's one thing I a e k i n g
hough to make the business com
'What's that ?'
'They ought to send them hogs
eady cooked. Cookin' and pre
>arin' wood for cookin' takes up a
ieap of time that ort by rights to
>e employed in the cotton patch.
was sayin' to my old woman
he other day, if we Mississippi
oks got our cookin' and washin'
Lone up North and sent by ex
ress, we'd be as happy as office
'Your horse in the lead there
eems to be lame.'
'Yes needs shoein'. If he wasn't
he only horse I've got, and I can't
pare him I'd send him up where
hey make horse shoes and nails
6nd get hira shod. Can't get such
thing done in our parts. Per
iaps I can at the depot.'
'How do you manage to live in
rour parts, my old friend ?"
'Why, we raise cotton. My
'oad turns off here, stranger.
ree, Ball; back Brandy. I'm
;lad I seed you stranger.'
These Venuses are wonderfully
,xpensive, no matter where you
ind them. If in the daily walks
f .life, in the tender flesh and
)lood that has to be decorated
with laces, satins, fine linens, silk
itockings, gold and precious stones
nd false hair, man has to come
town with the "gelt;" if the pure
?arian marble, that under t6e
hisel of a modern Angelo is
rought forth almost breathing
Lnd palpitating, and yet harmless,
nan has to work all his wits to
ay for one; and if in the starry
.egions away up yonder, a Venus
letermines to make a transit, the
safe doors must be flung open and
;he money bags must be tumbled
)ut and depleted so that she may
)e safely seen through her journey.
Perhaps if she had chosen the
nilky way instead of this eccen
ric trip across the sky, she might
2ave tripped along like any other
Jairymaid, without being so ex
pensive. But then it is the nature
>f Venuses to be expensive, and
all that we poor star-gazers can
lo is to bend 'low the head, after
the thing is all over, and because
we can't help ourselves, say, "Thy
will, not mine, oh Venus, be done."
But they never will 'be done.
Billy Henderson was engaged
.n cleaning out the cellar the
>ther day,' and sorting over the
apples. It was during the thaw,
and the cellar window was open,
mnd as Billy seized a rotten ap
ple to shy at .Timmie Browne 's
log which was passing, he didn't
iotice that his father was just put
~ing his head in at the window to
3all him to dinner. Billy will
probably be able to sort over the
rest of the apples next week, but
uis father's eye will. never resume
.ts wonted brightness.
A French dramatic author was
-emarkable for selfishness. Callin g
ipon a friend, whose opinion he
wished to have on a new comedy,
ie found him in his last moments,
) u t notwithstanding, proposed
;o him to hear it read. "Consider,"
said the dying man, "I have
out about an hour to live." "Ah,"
'eplied the author, "but this will
>ccupy only half the time."
A country youth, who desired
o0 know how to become rich, sent
Squarter in anss er to an adver
~isement, and received the follow
ng recipe: "Increase your re
3eipts and decrease your expen
litures. Work eighteen hours a
lay, and live on hash and oatmeal
By love's delightful influence,
he attack of ill-humor is resisted,
1he violence of our passion aba
1ed, all the injuries of the world
illeviated, the bitter cup of afflic
~ion sweetened, and the sweetest
lowers penalty strewed along the
>ath of life.
"This having to run in debt f'or
'espectability is enough to break
he heart of an angel, but how is
i body to live without it ?" ex
~laimed a lady who is a prominent
nember of shabby genteel socie