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A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c
Vol. XI WEDNESDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 1, 1875. No. 35.
EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING,
At Newberry, S. C.
BY THo. F. GRENEKER,
Editor and Proprietor.
Terms, $2.50 per innum,
Invariably in Advance.
tt The paper is stopped at the expiration of
time for which it is paid.
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THE PLVMBER'S REVENGE.
A LEGEND ON MADISON AVENUE.
CAINTO 1.-THE DEAT-BED OATH.
It was some thirty years ago,
An evening calm and red,
Whenagold haired strippling stood beside
His father's dying bed.
"Attend, my son." the sick man said,
"Unto my dying tones,
And swa etesnal vengeance to
The acqrsed Ice of Jones.
For why? Just nineten yearg ago
A gil sat by my side,
Witb cheek of rose and breast of snow,
My peealess promised bride.
A viper by the name of Jones
Caie in between us twain.
With honeyed words he stole away
My loved Belinda Jane.
For he was rich and I was poor,
And poets all are stupid
Who feign-the god of love is not
Cpidity, but CApid.
Perhanw 'tis well; for, had I wed
That maid of dark-brown curls,
You had not been or been, instead
Of boy, a pair of girls.
Now, listen tome, Walter Smith;
His to yon plumber bold.
Ah thaVoud'st ease my dying pang,
His-'prentice be enrolled.
For Jones has houses many on
The fashionable squares,
And then perchance may'st be called In
To see to the repairs.
Think on thy father's ravished love,
Recall thy father's ills.
Bemember this, the death-bed oath,
Then make out Jones' bills!"
CANTO II.-TEE YOUNG AVENGEn.
Yonag Walter's to the plumber gone,
A boy with smut on nose;
Fursace and carpet-sack in hand,
With the Joarneymnan he goes.
Now grown a journeyman himself,
Ingrimy iiand he gripes
A cadle-end,.ad 'neath i e sink
Explores the frozen pipes.
His furnace portable he lights
With smoking wads of news
Papers, and smiles to see within
The pot the soler fuse.
He gives his flat; "They are froze
Down about sixteen feet;
If you want-water ere July,.
Yea must dig up theistreet.."
"Patia Plumber" now is he,
As witnesseth his sign,
- And ready now "to undertake
- One day ahousemaid, as hesat .
At the receipt of'biz,
Cauiie cying: "Ho, Sir Smith, Sir Smith,
He girt )ils apron around his loins,
His tools took from the shelf,
And to~the journeyman he said,
"I'll see to this myself."
* e m * * a
"Would," said he as be drew the bill,
"My father were alive!
10 lb. of solder at 10e.,
CANTO III.-THE TRAITOR'S DON.
The Jones bad houses many on
The avenues and squares,
And hired the young Avenger, Smith,
To see to the repairs;
And Smith put faucets in, and cocks,
And meters, eke, and -taps,
Connections, T joints, sewer pipes,
Basins, and water traps;
He tore the walls and ripped the fioors,
Torveach the pipes beyond:
And excavations in the street,
And 'neath the sidewalk yawned;
And daily as he entered up
The items in his book,
The plumber's face wore a serene
And retrospective look.
And Jones would wring his hands and cry,
"Woe, woe, and utter woe!
Ah me! that! taxes should be so high
And rents should be so low!"
Then he would give the Smith the house,
As instalment on account
Of Its repairs, and notes of hand
For the rest of the amount.
CANTO IV.-AYENGED AT LAST.
Now, Smith had been for a dozen years
In the practical plumbing line,
And the bills of Smith did not grind slow,
And the.ygound exremied fine.
Terrace by terrace, house by house,
The lands of Jones he took,
And heavier still the balance was
Writ In that fatal book.
At last no property-nor cash
Had he ; so he did fail,.
Andl the amsaing plumber locked
Him up in Ludlow Jail.
His heartless creditor he besought
For mercy in his need:
"Nay, nay, no mercy: lie and rot,"
Quoth he, "in jail like Tweed,
For I have sworn avenged to be
On thee,thy-kin-and kith;
Rememberest.thou Belinda Jane?
-1 am th55eso'rmith!!!
-G. T. Lanigan, In the New York World.
School Inspector (to urchin)
"Now, Johnny, how maany can you
countf" Johnny-''Oune, two,
three, four, five, six, seven, eight,
nine, ten." Inspector-' 'G o o d,
Johnny, go on," Johnny (after a
moment's thought)-"Jack, queen
"Jury," said a Western Judge,
"you kin go out and find a verdict.
I o a', find one of yonr on,i
Almost a Centennial Romance.
It was Sunday, July 14, 1776
just ninety nine years ago to-day
-and the rudely constructed fort
atBoonesborough lay in drowsy still
ness on the bank of the Kentucky
river. Daniel Boone and his friend
Pnd associate, Richard Callaway,
had been absent since early in the
morning; and the good wives,
sharers in the toil of the early pion
eer days were enjoying the rest
that the Sabbath brought even to
the unbroken wilderness. In the
grateful shade of a tree in one cor
ner of the inclosure sat three
young girls, just blooming into wo
manhood, and giving an unwonted
charm to the rough evidences of civ
ilization which had but recently for
ced themselves upon the primitive
harmony of the surrounding scene
The eldest of these maidens was
Elizabeth Callaway. The experi
ences of life rather than the observ
ance of nature seem to have given
turn to the thoughts and tastes of
the early settlers, so, while the eu
phonious name of Bessie might
have harmonized well with the mur
muring river and the soft and lan
guid aspect of nature in her summer
garb, the hard, every day' life of
the adventurous dwellers in the
dark and bloody ground seemed to
comport best with the harsher name
of Betsy. So Elizabeth was known
simply as Betsy Callaway-not a
name suggestive of romance, yet
she was witha a gentle and a
loving girl, and had maiden fancies
that gave the deep color of ro
mance to one of the incidents of her
life in the wilderness. She was just
turned of sixteen, and as she sat
under the tree that sultry summer
afternoon, ninety-nine years ago
this day, the sun that now and then
stole through the foliage and play
ed upon her rounding form and
athwart her well- set head seemed
to bring out more fully the lithesome
ness of her young womanhood, the
glossy blackness of her raven tress
es, and the rich olive color of'her
The other girls were younger by
two years, and differed from her in
appearance. Fanny Callaway was
fairer than her sister Betsy, but
not more pleasing in appearance.
The third girl, Jemima Boone, was
also naturally fair and, like Fanny,
owed whatever of fairnes's she may
have lost to constant exposure to
the weather. Nor were these young
er maidens without their fancies,too,
for the wilderness matures its occu
pants rapidly, and though but four
teen years counted the lives of the
two girls, each had a lover who was a
hardy and bold pioneer and ready
to encounter any danger for his la
Perhaps these young girls were
silent and sat there communing
with their own thoughts or thinking
of their absent heroes, who had
gone out that day with Boone and
Callaway ; perhaps they were con
versing about their matrimonial ar
rangements; perhaps they were idly
chatting about anything, and every
thing, and nothing; for feminine
nature a hundred years ago, and in
the wildest wilderness, was not un
like it is now,and in the most civ
ilized communities. But as eve
ning drew near the last lingering
breath of air seemed to lull itself to
rest, and the July heat seemed to
become still more oppressive. The
quick-ear of one of the girls caught
the sound of the river as its subdued
murmur floated up the river bank,and
she proposed that they should go a
short distance below the for-t to
where a canoe was lying,and drift out
upon the bosom of the river to catch
the rising coolness of the evening
Hardly were they seated, and pre
pared to push from the shore, when
they detected a slight rustle in the
brush,andin a moment more five stal
wart and hideously-painted Indians
leaped to the side of the canoe and
pulled it close to the shore. What
girl of sixteen could be equal to such
Ian emergency? It was here that
the true heroine displayed herself.
It was here that the sentimental
girl, who ha jnst been dreaming
of her absent lover, and wandering
through the realms of maiden fanc3
with love-sick girls like herself, in
an instant converted herself into thE
daring and hardy woman of th(
frontier; it was here that Betsy
Callaway, without a moment's hesi
tation, determined to defend the
honor and the lives of herself and
her young companions, and wrote
her name in the annals of Ken
tacky. Standing erect in the canoe,
she seized the paddle, and at a
single blow laid open to the bone
the head of the foremost savage.
The other Indians pressed on, but,
still undaunted the brave girl foughi
them with the ferocity of a mothei
protecting her young. Finally ex
hausted, she sank to the bottom ol
the canoe, and with her trembling
sister and friend was dragged
ashore, and hurried off to meei
whatever fate might be in store foi
We have honored the memorieE
of the heroes of Bunker Hill; we
have reverently celebrated the occa
sion when George Washington turn
ed his back upon the delights o
home and gave his sword to a caust
in which failure would be iguomin3
and death; we are preparing to cel
ebrate with impressive splendor th(
centennial anniversary of the mem
orable event that gave us independ
ence, and illustrated the exalted
courage of the statesmen of 1776
let us pause for a moment to d(
honor to this brave girl, who bat
tied so heroically with a foe thai
even strong men hesitated to en
counter; let us lift the romance o
her rude life out of the common rut
of girlish sentiment and make hei
love one of the episodes of our his
The consternation at the fort cai
well be imagined. The fathers o:
the girls soon returned, and, befor(
the night closed in, Daniel Boone
at the head of a party on foot, ani
Richard Callaway, at the head of i
party on horse back, were off in par
suit. In Boone's party were Sam
uel Henderson, John Holder am
Flanders Callaway. What g a v ,
these youths such determined looki
and made them press on so eagerly
Was it only a knightly spirit tha
prompted them to the rescue of for
lorn and captured damsels ? Al
as Samuel Henderson strode along
he was thinking of the olive-cheek
ed heroine, Betsy Callaway ; an<
John Holder clenched his hand
and ground his teeth when hi
thought of poor frightened Fanny
and Flanders Callaway almost for
got his kith and kin for thinking
of his captured Jemima Boone. W,
can easly smile over it now ; bu
let any man put himself in the placi
of any one of these young mex
and ask himself how he would fee
in such a pursuit, knowing that th
girl he loved and hoped to mak
his wife was in the power of rath~
less, cruel and treacherous say
When the Indians started with th
girls they made the younger one
take off their shoes and put on mo<
assins, but Betsy refused to take oj
her shoes, and as she walked aloni
she ground her heel into the soil t
leave a trail. Noticing this the It
dians made the whole party wal
apart and deviate fi-om the cours4
so as to wade through the water an
destroy the trail. Then the ur
daunted Betsy broke off twigs an
dropped them along the road neve
doubting for a moment that her fa
them and her lover would soon be i:
hot pursuit of them; and when th
savages threatened her with uplifi
ed tomahawk if she persisted i:
this, she secretly tore off portions c
her dress and dropped them on th~
BLoone's party soon found th~
trail, and followed it rapidly, fearin
that the girls might grow weary an
be put to death. All Sunday nigh
and all Monday the pursuit wa
kept up. On Tuesday morning a slet
der column of smoke was seen i:
the distance, and the experience,
eye of the hunter at once de
tected the camp of the Indians.
serious difficulty now presented il
self. How were the captives to b
rescued without giving the captor
time to kill them?~ There was but ii
tie time for reflection, as the Indian
nmust quickly discover their prei
ence. The white men were suir
hnts and so they picked their mer
fired upon them, and then rushed
into the camp to the rescue. At
I the moment of the attack the girls
were sitting at the foot of a tree;
Betsy with a red bandanna handker
chief thrown over her head, while
the heads of Fanny and Jemima
were reclining in her lap. Betsy's
olive complexion came near serving
her a bad turn at this juncture, for,
one of the rescuing party coming
suddenly upon her mistook her for
an Indian and was about to knock
her brains out with the butt of his
rifle when a friendly hand interven
ed, and saved the girl from meeting
her death just at the moment when
she saw tberty within her reach.
The fathers and gallants carried
their loved ones home in triumph,
and this romance of real life in Ken
tacky a century ago would not be
complete without the information
that the dreams of love and happi
ness that was so cruelly disturb
ed ninety-nine years ago this sum
mer day were consequently all real
ized. Brave Betsy Callaway be
came Mrs. Samuel Henderson, and
lived to tell the story of her capture
to her children and her children's
children. Iittle Fnny became
Mrs. John Holder; and Flanders
Callaway took to his home Miss Je
-mima Boone, and thus cerqented
the friendly ties of the Boones and
Callaways. It is a long time ago;
nigh on to a hundred years, and
all the actors in the romance have
. long since departed, but their mem
ory is green with many of us yet,
- and we can all well afford to give
r a few thoughts to the event that
t marked their characters and the
times in which they lived and lov
AS EASY AS SKATING.
The following clever sketch of an
unsuccessful effort in a popular di
version by one who knew nothing
of its arts and mysteries, will amuse
our readers. We are unable to
give the name of the author or to
Scredit it to its original source, or
we would gladly do so :
"You see," said my friend Reglet,
as he cut a "pigeon's wing" on the
'glassy surface at the rink, went off
on one foot and came circling
around on the other ; "you see, it
1is an exercise which brings all the
Smuscles into play, and must be
e healthy. In fact, Dio Lewis says
Sit is better than riding horseback."
-It looked so easy and so nice that
SI winked at the boy who had skates
e to lend, and he came over.
S"That's right, old boy," called
a Reglet as he sailed around with a
handsome girl on each arm, and
1 a lovely blonde hanging to his coat
e tails; "I'll bet a hundred dollars
e you'll learn all the flourishes within
-I was highly gratified at this ex
pression of confidence in my ability,
e and I kept hurrying up the boy as
s he fastened on the skates.
SThe impudent saucebox said I
had better strap a pillow on the
Sback of my head before I started
out, but I passed the insinuation by
in silent contempt.
S"Now, then," said Reglet, circling
Sup with a dozen French flourishes,
"the main thing is to have confi
-dence in yourself. Strike right out
like a pioneer getting away from a
r troup of wolves, and I'l bet a hun
dred to one you'll make a skater."
LI struck out. I struck in sev
e eral directions. besides out. One
Sfoot went to the left, the other to
Sthe right, and I whirled around
and sat down.
e The blonde lady came up and
said that I had made a capital hit,
e and the other two said that I was
Scertain to combine grace with mus
Scular effort when I got fairly start
s I did'nt feel much like starting
- out again, but I had to do it.
a Reglet helped me up again said
Ithat he could already see an im
Sprovement in my health, and warned
me to shove my feet as I saw him
I obeyed: The left foot shot out,
leaving the right one some rods in
the rear, andin yig to even up
the race a little- something struck
e the ice.
T, I was myself. The bac1k of my
head struck first, and there were
five distinct shocks before the whole
of my body got down.
Reglet sailed up, and said he
never saw that beaten, and the
blonde declared her belief that I
was an old skater; and just playing
off on them.
The rink danced round and round
as I sat up, and the small boy who
came grinning at me appeard to my
vision like eight or uine smell boys,
and eight or nine grins.
"Come, old boy, this exercise will
brighten your cheek until your
own wife won't know you," called
Reglet, offering to help me up. .
I wanted to go home, and sit
down behind the coal stove and pon
der and reflect, but he dragged me
to my feet, and "the blonde wanted
to know if I woild't please to give
them the Prince of Wales flourish."
I glanced at her and tried to
smile, and they all edged off to
give me a fair show.
"Come, dert right off !" yelled
Reglet, and I carefully started my
feet out on * an exploring voyage.
They hadn't traveled over six inches
before they got ahead of my bQdy,
I reached out for something to sup
port me, clawed around, and the
back of my head dug a hole in the
I thought the roof of the rink had
fallen in, and that twenty-eight tons
of boards and shingles had struck
me in a heap; but I was deceived,
"You struck an air bubble, or
F.on'd have made a splendid show,"
'aid Reglet, as he pulled at me.
The blonde said that I had come
within a hair's breadth of cutting
one of the grandest flourishes
known on ice, and they wanted
me to try once more. I told 'em I
hadgot tog6 to a funeral, and that
I would be back in a half an hour,
but it was no use.
"See how easy it is," exclaimed
Reglet, as he pushed out and
swung one leg around.
I pushed out and swung one leg.
I couldf't pul itback. I tried to,
and I yelled to Reglet - that I'd
give him fitfy dollars to grab m,.
He was too late. I clawed, and
waved, and tottered, and fell and
when I came to my senses again,
Reglet said if I would go though
the same performance every day for
two months, he'd warrant -me that
I could eat a hundred hot biscuits
per day, and never have a touch of
I am in bed yet, and a friend
has written this from dictation.
The doctor says that two ribs on
the left side are fractured, the collar
bone is broken, the bone of the el
bow smashed, and the spinalecolumn
is three inches out of true ; but he
is laboring away in hopes of mend
ing me up by spring.
T&uow Du-s.--Seventy years ago,
when gas and kerosene were not
and wax candles were an extrava
gance indulged in only on state oc
casions, even by the wealthy, the
tallow dip was an article of necessi
ty, and "candle-dip-day" was as cer
tain of occurrence as Christmas,
though, perhaps, even less welcome
than the equally certain annual
Fast Day. Fancy an immense kitch
en with before-mentioned fireplace
in the center of one side. Over the
blaze of back log and forestick,
and something like half a cord
of "eight-foot wood" are swinging
the iron cranes laden with great
kettles of melting tallow. On the
opposite side of the kitchen two
long poles about two feet apart,
are supported at their extremities
upon- the seats of chairs. Besides
the poles are other great kettles
containing melted tallow poured on
the top of hot water. Across the
poles are the slender candle rods,
from which depend ranks upon
ranks of candle wicks made of tow,
for cotton-wicks is a later inven
tion. Little by little by endlessly
repeating the slow process of dip.
ping into the kettles of melted
tallow and hanging them to cool,
the wicks take on their proper
coating of tallow. To make the
candle as large as possible was the
aim, for the more tallow the bright
er the light. When done, the ranks
of candles still depending from the
rods, were hung in the sunniest
spots of a sunny garret to bleach.
The animosities are mortal, but
the humanities live forever.
WHAT THEY SEE AT
It was after the evening services.
Mrs. Coonton and the three Misses
Coonton had arrived at home. They
sat listlessly around the room with
their things on. Mr. Coonton was
lying on the lounge asleep. It had
been undoubtedly an impressive
sermon as the ladies were silent,
busy with their thoughts.
"Emmeline," said Mrs. Coonton,
suddenly addressing her eldest,
"did you see Mrs. Parker when she
oame in ?"
"Yes, ma," replied Emmeline.
"She didn't have that hat on last
Sunday, did she ?"
"No," said Emmeline, "it is her
old hat I noticed it the moment she
came down the aisle and says to
Sarah 'what on earth possesses
Mrs. Parker to wear such a hat as
that ' "
"Such a great prancing feather on
such a little hat looked awful ridic
ulous. I thought I should laugh
right out when I saw it," observed
"I don't think it looked any
worse than Mary Schuyler's, with
that flaring red bow at the back,"
"I don't see what Mrs. Schuyler
can be thinking of to dress Mary
out like that," said Mrs Coon
ton, with a sigh, "Mary must be
older than Sarah, and yet she dress
es as if she were a mere child."
"She's nearly a year older than I
am," asserted Sarah.
"Did you see how the widow
Marshall was tucked out ?" inter
rupted Emmeline. "She was as gay
as a peacock. Mercy, what airs
that woman .puts on. I would like
have as=TI14?hen she's going
to bring back that pan of flour."
And Emmeline tittered maliciously.
"She's shining around old Me
Masters, they say," mentioned Ame
"01 d MeMasters !" ejaculated
Mrs. Coonton. "Why, he's old
enough to be her father."
"What- difference do you suppose
that makes to her ?" sggested Em
meline. "She'd marry Mathuselah.
But I'd pity him if he gets her..
She's a perfect wild cat."
"Say, Em., who was that gentle
man with Ellen Byxby ?" inquired
"That's so !" chimed in Sarah,
with spirit, "who was he ?"
"What gentleman ?" asked Mrs.
"Why I don't know who it was,"
"They came in during the prayer.
He was a tall fellow, with light
hair and chin whiskers."
"It couldn't have been her cousin
John, from Brooklyn," suggested
"Cousin, no," said Sarah, pettish
ly. "He is short and has brown
hair. This gentleman is a stranger
here. I wonder where she picked
"She seems to keep very close to
him," said Amelia, "but she needn't
be soared. No one will take him
unless they are pretty hard pushed.
He looks as soft as a squash. Did
you see him tumble up his hair
with his fingers ? I wonder what
that big ring cost-two cents ?"
and the speaker tittered.
"Well I'm glad if she got com
pany," said Mrs. Coonton, kindly.
"She's made efforts enough to get
some one, goodness knows."
"I should say she had," coincided
Emnmeline. "She's got on one of
them Victoria haits, I see. If I had
a drunken father, I'd keep in doors,
I think, and not be parading my
self in public."
Just then there was a movement
on the lounge, and the ladies began
to take off their things. -
"Hello, folks," said Mr. Coonton,
rising up and rubbing his eyes. "Is
church out ?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Coonton with a
yawn, which communicated itself to
"Did you have a good sermon ?"
"Pret-ty good," accompanied by
another good yawn all round.
"See many good clothes ?" was
the next query.
"I suppose you think, Mr. Coon
ton, that that is all your wife and
daughters go to church for, to look
at peoples clothes," said Mrs. Coon
"That's just like pa," said Emme
line, with a toss of the head. "He
is always slurring church people."
P sloped to bed.
KNIFE AND FORK FLIRTA
To drop your knife.means, "I am
To eat with your knife means, "I
am not posted."
To drop your fork means, "I am
desperately in love."
To wipe your knife on the table.
cloth means, "all right."
To stir your coffee with a fork
means, "How sweet you are."
To eat your soup with a fGrk
ifeans, "You are very beautiful."
To whet your knife on your fork
means, "You see I am sharp."
To cut your mouth with a knife
means, 'I am very impatient."
To pick your teeth with a fork
means, "I am the pick of the lot."
To wipe your nose on a napkin
means, "I am making a fool of my
To drum on your plate with your
knife and fork means, 'i am almost
To scratch your head with a fork
means, "I itch for an acquaint
ance with you."
To dip your own knife into the
butter means, "I.am not very par
ticular, you see."
To let your knife slip and splat
ter the gravy oat of your plate
means, "I am exceedingly happy
to be here."
To draw the knife half way down
your throat means, "I am enjoying
myself very well, I thank you."
STUDMWIN- NITU=A -PHLoOPHY.
Old Keyser found Cooley's boy
standing in a very suspicious man
ner under his best apple tree, with
a stick in his hand, and a certain
bulgy appearance about his pock
ets. Having secured him famly
by the collar, Keyser shook him up
a bit, and then asked hin, sternly,
what he was doing there.
"Ain't a doin' nothin'," said Coo
ley, "I'came over yer to study."
":That's entirely too thin," ex
"Yes, Idid ; I came over yer to
study about Sir Isaac. We had
it in our lesson. He was in an or
chard and saw an apple fall, and
that made him invent the 'traction
of gravitation; and I come yer to
see if it was so."
"It won't do, sonny," said Keyser.
"You're too enthusiastic about Sir
Isaac ; and, besides, what were you
going to do with that stick?"
"With this stick ? This yer stick?
What waslIgoin' to do with this
stick ? Why, a boy gave me 'this
stick to hold for him while he went
on an errand for his aunt."
"And where did that appie-core
come from there on the ground ?"
"That apple-core ? That one ly
ing there ? The birds is awful on
apples this season. I saw a .black
bird drop that there, an' I says to
myself, themx birds are just ruinin'
Mr. IKeyser apples.".
Too MUCH RIsK.-"Come on
now, Ned," cried a New York girl
Long Branch the other day to a
stripling lover at her side, "we've
got clear. of' papa-now lets take
"Your father is an awful big and
stout man. ain't he ?" observed
"Oh, never mind that," exclaim
ed the Miss petulantly; "lets take
a swim, just see the great waves."
"Don't you think it dangerous ?"
anxiously inquired the lover, gaz
ing up and down the beach.
"Dangerous? No ! There isn't
hardly any under-tow at this
"Oh, but it.isn't the under-tow
I'm afraid of;" interrupted the
"Isn't it ?"
"No, it's your father's toe !"
And she couldn't get him to risk
it.- Chicago Evening Journal.
The supreme self indulgence is
to submit to the will of. a spiritu
Pride sleeps in a golden crown ;
contentment in a cotton night-cap.
A moment's thought is passion's
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Done with Neatness and Dispatch.
NEARER TO GOD.
As I look out of my window this
beautiful spring morning and view
the glittering landscape, and listen
to the sweet songs of birds, my
heart is drawn to the Giver of these
precious good gifts. The melan
choly moaning of the wind around
my window seems to awaken new
aspirations in my heart. The coo
ing of the dove teaches me to give
thanks to Him who has so kindly
watched over me during the slum
bering moments of the night. We
need but look in the open book of
nature to learn the lesson of trust
in God. Our heavenly Father has
enriched our earthly home with all
of these excellencies of beauty,
that all should speak to us of Him.
Oh! that we could think of God as
often as He gives us something to
remind us of His care over us; ithen
He would be in our thoughts and
actions; andourconversation would
be the theme of salvation. Could
we but realize that all the suffer
ings, trials, head-aches, heart-aches,
pains, and fevers of this woe-strick
en world-come from the fact that
men will not choose God's ways,
but forsake the fountains of living
water and hew for themselves bro
ken cisterns, that can hold no wa
ter'. When will the world learn that
deep, lasting, and abiding happi
ness is tobe found only in Jesus ?
In vain do men strive for happiness
who have not washed their robes
and made them white in the blood
of the Lamb. This sensitive body
in which the soul lives, which we
so unceasingly care for, must soon
be food for crawling worms. But
where shall this deathless soul fmd
*ts habitation when this earthly
house is dissolved? This is the
great question that has ever crowd
ed into the mind of man, "If he
die shall he live again ?" The prob
lem is too dark for human reason
to solve. The book of divine
revelation alone teaches us that
when this earthly house of the soul
is dissolved, we may have a building
of God, a house not made with
hands, eternal in the heavens.
That we may be admitted into that
heavenly land, it should be our
chief concern to .prepare for the
great destiny of the future. Oh!
the cheerful, trusting child of Jesus,
who has learned to trust an infinite
Helper. He has two homes-one
on earth, and one in heaven. While
the season of work and duty lasts
he is willing to labor ; but when
old age has crept upon him he lens
tremblingly upon his staff and hails
with delight the time when Jesus
shall loose the fettered chains that
have so long bound him to the
Cheer up, desponding, fainting
.Christain ; live near the cross of
Christ. A few more prayers, a few
more tears, and our bodies ~shall,
rest in the green valley, while our
spirits shall bask in the sunlight of
God's eternal day.
ing to G. W. P. Custis' recollee
tions, the grooming of Washing
ton's white horses was something
surprising. The night before the
horses were expected to be ridden
they were covered entirely all
over with a paste, of which whit
ing was the principal component
part; then the animal was swathed
in bod'y clothes, and left to sleep
on clean straw. In the morning
the composition had become hard,
was well rubbed in, and curried
and brushed, which process gave
to the coats a beautiful glossy and
satin like appearance. The hoofs
were then blackened and polish
ed, the mouths washed, teeth
picked and cleaned, and the leop
ard-skin housings being properly
adjusted, the white chargers were
led out for service
AS'KING HIM.-"Hallo, 6trangeri
you appear to be traveling?" "Yes,
I always travel when I'm on a
journey." "1 think I have seen .
you somewhere." "Very likely.
I've often been there." "Mightn't
-- -- - L. O...4L Qfl L!U,~11 ~4.