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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBOIIO, S. C., JUNE 17, 1879.OL. I.-NO. 7.
The course of the weariest river
Ends in the great grey sea ;
The acorn, for ever and over,
Strives upward to the tree ;
The rainbow, the sky adorning,
Shines promise through tho'slormi ;
The glimmer of coming morning
Through midnight gloom will form.
By time all knots are riven.
Comploxal though they be
And p.Jaoo will at last be given,.
Dear, both to you and me.
Then, though the path may be dr.cary,
Look onward to the goal ;
Though the heart and the lead be weary,
Let faith inspire the soul.
Seek the right, though the wrong be tempting
Speak truth at any cost ;
Vain is all weak exempting
When once the gem is lost.
Let strong hand and keen eye be ready,
For placu and ambushed foes ;
Though earnest and fancy steady
Bear beat unto the close.
The Ia avy clouds may be raining,
But with evening comes the light ;
Through the dark are low winds co+mplaining,
Yet the sunrise gilds thQ height
And love has.his hidden treasure
For the patient and the pure ;
And time gives his full measure
To the workers who endure ;
And the Word that no law has shaken
Has the future pledge..upplied ;
For we know that when 'we awaken
We shall be satieed.
John and I.
"Come, John," said I, cheerfully, "it
really Is time to go; if you stay any longer
I shall be afraid to conie down and lock the
door after you.'
My visator rose-a proceeding that al
most reminded me of the geni emerging
from the copper vessel, as lie measured six
feet three-and stood looking reproachfully
down upon me.
"You are in a great hurry to get rid of
me," he said.
Now I didn't agree with him. for lie
had made his usual call of two hours and a
half; having, in country phrase, taken to
"sitting up" with me so literally that I
was frequently at my wit's end to suppress
the yawn that I know would bring a troop
rushing after it.
He was a tine, manly-looking fellow, this
John Cranford, old for his age-22-and
- every way worthy of boiug loved. But I
didn't love him. I was seven years his se
nior; and when instead of letting the worm
of concealment prey on his damask check,
he ventured to tell his love for my mature
self, I remorselessly seized an English
prayer-book, and pointed sternly to the
clause, "A man may not marry his grand
mother." That was three years ago;
and I added, encouragingly. "besides,
John you are a child and don't know your
"If a man of nineteen doesn't know his
own mind," remonstrated my lover, "I
wonld like to know who should. But I
w'll wait for you seven years, if you say
so-fourteen-as Jacob did for Rachel."
"You forget," I replied, laughing at his
way of mending matters, "that a woman
does not, like wine, improve with age.
But seriously, John, this is absurd; you are
a nice boy, and I like you-but my feelings
toward you are more those of a mother than
The boy's eyes flashed indignantly; and
before I could (levine his intention he lifted
me from the spot where I stood, and carried
me, Infant fashion, to the sofa at the other
end of the room.
" I could almost find it In my heart to
shake you I" he umttered, as lie sot me
dlown with emphasis.
ThIs was rather like the cou tahip of
William of Normandy, and mattei-s pro
ised to be quite exciting.
"Don't do that again," said 1, with dig
nity, when I had recovered iny breath,
" Will you marry me?9" asked John,
"Not just at present," I replied.
" The greatbhibdsnme tdllow," I thought,
u.s he paced the floor restlessly, " why
couldn't he fall in love with some girl of
tifteen, .instead of setting his affections on
an old maid like me.? I don't want the boy
-on my hands, aid I won't have hiha1"
" As to your being twenty-six," pursued
JTohn, in answer to my thoughts, "you say
its dowun in time family ;Bible, and I sup
pose It must be so y bat no one would be
lieve it; and I: dontt care if you're forty.
You look llse a girl of .sixteen, and you arc
the only woman I shall ever ;love."~
- 8Oh, John, John I at least fivemlillions
of men haive said that same thing before In
every kniown 1Iignage. Nevertheless, when
you fairly break down and'erf, I rel&nt,.
for I am digreeefully .soft-hearted--and
weakly promisethen, and there that I wfll
either keep my own nante or take yours."
For love Is a very dog lb the manger, and
Joihelokt3edrgdlant att)iis -concession, It
- was a comfort to know that if lie could not
gdt eri the flieC himsef,no nepa
w'ould. ' * ooeps
A sort of family . ehlpwreck had wafted
* 9h4 to my. thresbold. ,Our own household
wssadly broken,up, sind,Iformd myself
invalid father, a.large house and very little
money. What more natural than to take
*bbarders? And &mong . the first wereMr.
Cratiford alidi his 'soi, and sister who hmad
just leen wrepked th'eselves'b the deatii
of the wife ind rujother in.a friga land.'.
Qfne of thpse 0hiden, unp*pepu deaths,
thltt leaves tag survivere in rg. 4 condi
itp b tit is so difficult 16 imagine tlui
gay worlding whyjhas be,ettealed bencet
ano e~r state pf,beIpg.. : -..
,r.ranfo;rd was one of mly-admifrationi
from the. urst. ;Tall, p ale,. with .dark:hal
arid eyes, hel reminded me of'.Danite, onli
that he'wad handsonlmrand ho hihd sucha
pei i o*er),tl1t wa qimite r
of him.! .re3in evide nthig wrapped up Ii
Johp, arid pa.tient..with Ils. slstor,swieol
was asking quite enough of hristian ehari
ty une..e u,frMrs .iegrove wa
an u aedniue,a Ru ~a.talker
not find at all alluring. They seemed to
have set their hearts upon me as a per
son peculiarly litted to train John in the
way he should go.
A special interview with Mr. Cranford,
at his particular request, touched me con
"I hope," said he, "that you will not re
fuse my boy, Miss Edna. le has 'set his
heart so fully upon you, and you are every
thing that I could desire In a daughter. I
want some one to pet. I feel sadly and
lonely at tines and I am sure that you
would just fill the vacant niche."
I drew my hand away from his caress,
and almost felt like hating John Cranford.
Life with hin would be one of ease and
luxury; but I deelded that I had rather
Not long after this the Cranfords conclu
ded to go to housekeeping, and Mrs. Shell
grove was in her glory. She always caie
to luncheon now in her bonnet, and gave us
minute details of all that had be done and
talked about the house in the last twenty
"It is really magnificent," said she,
lengthening out each syllable. "Brother
has such perfect taste; and he is actually
furnishing the library, Miss Edna, after
your suggestion. You see, we look upon
you quite as one of the fanily.
"That is very good of you," I replied,
shortly; "but I certainly have no expecta
tion of ever belonging to it."
Mrs. Shellgrove laughed as though I had
perpetrated an excellent joke.
"Young ladies always deny these things,
of course; but John tells a different story."
I rattled the cups and saucers angrily;
and my thiouglht floated off not to John,
but to John's father, sitting lonely in the
library furnished after my suggestion.
Wasn't it after all my duty, to marry the
The house was finished and moved into,
and John spent his evenings with me. I
used to get dreadfully tired of him. le
was really too devoted to be at all interest
ing, and I had reached that state of feeling
that, if ' summarily ordered to take my
choice between hin and the gallows, I
would have prepared myself for hanging
with a sort of cheerful alacrity.
Llocked the door upon John on the eve
ning in question, when I had finally gotten
rid of him, with these feelings in force; and
I meditated while undressing on some des
perate move that should bring matters to a
But the boy had become roused at last.
He, too, had reflected in the watches of the
night; and next day I received quite a dig
nified letter from hin, telling me that busi
ness called him from the city, for two or
three weeks, and that possibly on his return
I might appreciate his devotion better. I
felt inexpressively relieved. It appeared
to me the most sensible move that John
mnade In the whole course of our acquain
tance, and I began to breathe with more
Tinio flew, however, and the three weeks
lengthened to six without John's return.
le wrote to me but his letters became
somewhat constrained; and I scarcely knew
what to make of hih. If' he would only
give me up, I thought; but I felt sure that
he would hold me to -at weak iroise of
mine, that I should either become Edna
Cranford or remain Edna Carrington.
"Mr. Cranford" was annonnced one
evening, and I entered the parlor fully pre
pared for an overdose of John, but found
myself confronted by his father.
le looked very grave; and instantly I
imagined all sorts of things, and reproached
myself from my coldness.
"John is well?" I gasped finally.
"Quite well," was the reply in such kind
tones that I felt sure there was something
What it was I cared not, but poured forth
my feelings impetuously to my astonished
"Hie niust not come here again I" I ex
clahmed. "I do not wish to see him. Toll
him so, Mr. Cranford I tell hihn that I had
rather renmain Edna Carrlngton, as lhe made
imc promise, than' to become Edna Cran
"And he made you promise thisS" was
the reply. "The selfish fellow? But,
Edna, what am I to do without the little
girl that I have been expecting? I am very
lonely-so lonely that I do nots see how I
can give her up.
I glanced at him and the room seemed
swimming round-everfting was dread
fully unreal, I tried to alt down, and was
earried tenderly to the sofa,.
"Shall it be Edna Oarrington or Edna
Cranford?" he whispered. "You need nlot
break youir promise to John."
"Edna Cranford," I replied, feeling that
I had left the world entire and was In an
other sphere of existence.
If the thought crossed my mind that Mr.
Cranford had rather cheerfully supplanted
hIs son, the proceeding was fully justified
'duri'ng -the visit which I moon'received fraom
that 'young gentleman. I tried to iake it
pltdin to -him that I did no wrong, as I had
iiever professed to love himi though not at
all Buro that I wouldn't'i'eceive the shaking
threatened on a previons occasion, and I
endeavored to be as tender as possible, for
'felt very-sorry for him.
Te nmy surprise, Jbbinlat\ghied.
"WVell, this Is jolly I" ho exolimend.
"And I'm not a villain, after all. What
do you think of her, Edna?"
He produced an Ivorytype in mm rich vel
vet caso-a pt'etty little blue-eyed simple
ton; 'she looked like' wtat 17r.
"Rose," he continud-"Ilose Darling;
the .name suits hier, doesn't It? She uuas
staying at my uncle's in Maryland-that's
where I've been visiting, you know-and
she's such a dear little confiding thing a fel.
low couldn't help falling in love .with her
And she thinks no end of. me, you see;
says she's afraid of me; and all that.":'
John know thatm I wasn't a bit afraid of
him; butlI felt n olderly sisterly .sort of
inte est In is happinese, and had never
Jilke .idm,so' well as at that. si6ont, And
this was thme dreadful news that lis father
had come to break to me, when -his narra
tl#e was nigiped in the iAti by my revela
tions0,- and the interview ended .in am far
,mqe s~tIfatory imner than either of us
h4~ ancnp o
in omi d ft44 OtJhfe 1)R
steady muaftEd, aV feff 41erbe don
A Y* tMi Y ttfo096nVbAit'Na $t be ni
d by *ieIo ~m'1ty enin be
Sveited n'ation s
Sap4,e f 9eat
- When the young lobster leaves Its part
it seeks refuge in small clefts of the rocl
or crevices at the bottom of the sea, wh<
It passes the earliest days of Its existen
In a vagabond state, for a period of from
to 40 days. During this thne it undergt
four different changes of the shell, but
the fourth it loses -its natatory organs, ai
is therefore no longer- able to swim on t
surface of the water, but falls to the bottc
lying torpid and motionless, where it i
mains for the future ; according, howevc
to Its increase in size it gains courage
approach the shore, which it had left at
birth. The number of uenmies which t
sail the young embryos in the deep sea
enormous. ''housands of all kinds of Ils
mollisks and erustacea are piursuing it co
tinually to destroy it. The very changii
of the shell causes great ravages at the
periods, as the young lobsters have to u
dergo a crisis which appears to be a necc
sary condition to their rapid growth.
fact,. every young lobster loses and remak
its crusty shell from eight to ten times t]
first year, five to seven the second, three
four the third, and from two to three t1
fourth year. Aftdr the fifth year the chanj
is only annual. For some days before ti
change the animal loses its usual streng
and vigor, lying torpid and motionless; at
just before casting its shell, striking I
claws against each other, every limb seen
to tremble. Then the body swells in t
unusual manner, and the shell begins
divide-it seems turned inside out, ti
stomach coming away with its shell. ]
like manner the claws are disengaged, tl
lobster casting them off much as a pers
would kick off a boot too big for him. F
several hours It now continues enfeebh
and motionless, but in two days the ne
skin becomes hardened, and within 48 hou
the shell is perfectly formed and hard, lil
the one cast off. Below in his native eli
ment the lobster reaches the age of 1
years, and loses a foot or claw without fe,
ling the loss, for he well knows it wi
grow again. When suddenly alarmed I:
a peal of thunder, or the report of a cai
non, its shoots its claws immediately. IN
part of the lobster is poisonous. The s<
called "lady" Is simply the cartilaginot
stomach, and would not be good eating bi
cause it is tough. The delicious "toi
ally" is the liver, while the impregnate
eggs form the "coral " and are consider<
a delicacy. The lobster is often caught in
kind of trap, or "lobster-pot,-" as it
called. It is made with narrow strips <
board or lath nailed upon strong hoops, ,
as to give it an oval form upon the .tol
Inside are placed stones to sink it to a cc
tain depth. At each end of the pot is
network of cord fastened to a small hoop
the centre of the net. Tough this hop
six inches diameter, perhaps, the lobsti
struggles to get the bait placed inside 'tl
cage. But when once in he finds himse
a prisoner; for lie cannot retreat at the san
door by which he entered. The situatk
of the trap Is marked by 'at buoy, und
visited at interval to remove the game ar
make room for others. They are sometims
caught with merely a piece of fish tied I
a string-the lobster convey the bait to h
mouth with his claws, and will let yc
draw him to the surface if you do it quiet]
so as not to alarm him, but If he is frigh
ened In the least he is off like a flash. Ye
must grasp the instant his horns are out
the water. In this country the lobster
found from the coast of New York nortl
ward; the bept are taken on the rocli
shores of New England, north of Cape Coi
Fishermen at Marshfield and Plymouti
Mass., catch from 50,000 to 100,000
year, which are sold to Boston dealer
Great numbers have been put up In cal
and shipped abroad. The packing houses
Portland, Me., send large quantities in ti
to England. . It Is said that the demand f
canned lobsters in America equals t1
OM Tunnmeiug Pete.
Old "Tunneling Pete" was what Ito w;
always called, and if he had any other nan
It was never heard on the Pacific coast.
Is said that he was from the lead mines
Galena, Ill., where they to tIs day tell. ho
Ihe burrowed his way t,hrough the limestom
from cave to cave in search of "mineral
making the caye .lsas found his abidib
pllace. Even in those days he was neatr
always underground.: How he managdd
endure thme light of day long enough
cross the plains has always been a mystei
to all who knew him. Some assert that. I
traveled only during thte night, and othe
that lhe wore a huge pair of goggles of bla<
glass. Old. Pete. landed In California
1849, and as soon as he struck the gold<
'soil took pick and shovel, and wvent. out
sight benbatht it. During the ten years 1
rmined In California lie was under the grom
most of the time, only coming out to ti
light of the 4ay at night, as a son of Er
would say. Old Peo. was a regular groui
mole, and like thmat little animal, appear
to hate the l,ght of the'sun, whch kept hi
winking, and blinking, eyen when his ey
wer# half olosed, as they~ always were w~hi
he was on the surface. In California e
Pete mined the gravel banks Moxie,
fashion, running coyote holes int them t
they were a greater puzzle than was t
fanmed labyrinth of Crete. 'What Ite d
vIith the gold he found no one ever kne
as Ito was never seen to have any in I
possessiQn, nor was he ever seon to purcha
either food or drink. It was the same
the lead mines, arnd a story cpmo .frc
Galena that he was not.a hukuan b)eing, b
a~ gnome in disgrace In some shape With t
behi1gs of hiraoe. H1e was soon here<
the Comstock soon after silver was founi
but straightway disappared under groupi
No otto,saw hini opi is,a~ $ithmer or kn<
he was cbmning; tIhe flst- thtiation had
his migration was when he was, seen he;
There weri those amnong the pmyospectors
that (lay who sw'ote that old Pet4 had inem
ly extended one of his California hmoles a
so "oome square throttge the Sierra Novs
mlounftainlS," It is reported .that after t
day,of his arrival ho was not soon for oi
two .year1, yhep he. finally .eanAo out n4
where the town. of Sntro now standhf-som
'now say that Mr. Sutro followed in on "<
Pete's hole" when he dmxg his tunnel, oth
wise he could never hate found his way
he Oom ,ock, Teso~ get ht$ 'w
don by h30 VOrg.ptlkp
'w& rees ln toth ->Spr
..aidto have ien in a terrible 10,a'
14uppQ m4hoWradoop. eno0n
under th hannel of the Carson a
44bsawnk 0g'n binjn ad4i
he gathered up his drifting-bar. ntck, and
shovel, and crossed over the hills to Flowery
District, where lie set to work, and was out
r of sight under the base of a big hill long
c before morning. He was seen on the sur
c0 face, in the twilight and of moonlight nights,
two or three times each year by the miners
m of Flowery until about three years ago,
id when he seemed to have disappeared for
lie goo(l. No one cared much whither he had
m gone, for he was an unsightly old man and
n exceedingly snappish and disagreeable.
One morning about six nonths ago some
r, Indians rushed Into the village of Flowery
to in a terrible fright, saying the "devil" had
appeared in their camp. A few miners
Went with the Indiana and found old Pete
sitting in the middle of their rancheria be
bside a big hole, through which it was evi
dent he had just risen. The old man's eyes
ig were glassy and his gray hairs were matted
with clay, like those of a badger just drag
ged from his hole, and it was easy to see
that he was on his last legs. He said he
had conie to the surface to get a mouthful
e of fresh air in order that he might have
strength to die. He had just life enough
left to say that lie lied been away up under
l the roots of the Comstock (luring the past.
e three years, and had there seen more wealth
o than Fair, Mackey, or any mining million
aire of them all had ever dreamed of.
id "They will never find it, though," chuckled
s he; ''they will never find it! They will
never go down to where it is. They will
become discouraged far above, up among
the twisting clays and cross-courses and
it faults and great horses of porphyry. I must
(lie now, but none of them will ever find
. what I have seen-no, never!" So saying,
>r the old fellow suddenly pressed his hands
) to his breast., a rattling came from his throat,
(I lie fell back upon the ground, gasped, and
t clutched the gravel with his bony fingers, a
e tremor passed through his frame, lie straight
eied out, and was dead.
1) -- -e-~- - -
A Woman's Hair.
y There is a lady residing in Omaha who
has the most beautiful black hair-three
0 feet and more in length, soft, glossy, way
ing, the pride of her husband and envied by
all the ladies who know her. She has been
in the habit of having her servant give It a
good washing with soap and water every
( few days. One Friday night the customary
d cleansing was done, and the servant at
a tempted to (1o an extra good job. Sie had
the water hotter than usual, used more
f soap, and folding the long waving tresses
on the top of the head, she rubbed and
rubbed them until they were covered with
r_ white foam. After a little time she poured
a cold water on and rinsed it, and dried it
1 with a towel. After waiting awhile she
q got a comb and brush, but to her astonish
r ient she found the great roll of hair as
0 hard as a brick. The eomb would no more
If penetrate the solid roll than it would a stone
e wall. It then was washed and wetted and.
1 rinsed again, and to the utter amazement
1 of the lady and servant, the mass of hair
d was harder and more compact than ever.
, It could not be i..rsu.uded. coaxed nor
o combed out of 'that giarled mass. Here
was a pretty state of affairs. A consulta
tion was held and the servant was sent for
a professional hairdresser, but it was so late
at night that none could be found. Early
on Saturday morning the lady bundled up
her head and went to a worker in hair. It
iwas beyond the hair-worker's ken. It had
now become so hard that a knitting needle
could not be pushed through it, and the
' lady was told that the only hope was to cut
it off. ' That was a catastrophe she could
not think of without weeping, and besides.
hOr husband was away gud. what would lie
1s say to come home and find her hair as short
as a school-boy's. She could not possibly
have it cut off. Then she went for a hair
>r dresser again.
ie This time he came, and a moment's ex
amination enabled him to explain matters.
"Madam," lie said, "your hair has been
'fulled' j ut on thme same principle that they
full cloth in a fulling mill. There is no
is way to save it but to leik it.out one hair at
Ie a time."
[t She told him to go to work, 4md for five
)f hours lie toiled awvay. At the end of that
w time lie had it straightened out, with the
e0 loss of about. one-hal f of the orlglnah quan
"tity. And so enidethi this chapter on a
g lady's hiair.
o A Stranigo People.
~y Dr. E. XI. Heath, in a paper on "Peru
e0 vlan Antiquities," describes a strange peo
rs pie living ini a town called JEten in seven
k degrees south latitude and about two miles
n fron~ the sea. They numiber about four
mn thousand, and1( speak, beside thme Spanish, a
f language which somne of the recently brought
10 over Chinese laborers understand, but there
id is no other siiliarity between the two poo
ie plea. -IThey intermarry uticles, niece's,
li brothlers ad sisters, nephews and aunts,
itd that Is, promniacnoushy, amnd with no appar
dent cut'se of consanguinity ; but they will
m not perinit any internmarriage into their nnm
es bor, tr *ith the outside world. They have
mn laws',customs and dress of their own, and
Id -lIve by bi-aiding lists and mats and weaving
mf cloths. They will give no account of the
Ill place Whence they came, or of the time
ie they 'settled. at Eten. History does not
Id. -nention thieir existence before the8Spaniard.
6 arrivedlJ There are no sick or deformed
liI persons among them, their eustom being to
se send a committee to each sa"k Or Qld person,
in and those who are reported ipast discovery
1m or 11sefulness are promptly strangled by the
ut pnbl excumtioner. Eten orders it, they
10 say, anid with Eton's orders there is no in
-A Paussiomately scien'1fld Physicianm.
e. 'Paul Eimile Chauffard, who was a Pro
of fessor at the Academy of Medicine in Paris,
9- and wtosp. :death was announced a ,short
mid ine,ago, Qried the ley. of lila art to its
rgau frilies iil its. ,. On being consulted two or
hie tireOliOntms:.agg by a. maiMl who was. evi
er d uily.suffring from sone acute form of
ar ski uJIease, he looked at hIm attentively,
ne an4 then, as a strange light sparkled in li
Id eye, e9 0xlairned
~r. Jt.rpiordinary ~~ unparalleled - in6on.
en rldpatientoeagerly lnquired if it
he aa 'bad case,"
A'I rather think.it is,"'repled the Doctor,
4 on~ Diet I gsspe4t% a tient,
lo .~ofor $ ~ sseti)y s9np disease
Ijt o~Rght eo, V a ntirely
n ~ utnowwe. . n~oQd i
hth naa serice.aan4t., if htI
Black eyes, blue eyes; grey eyes-thre
pairs, all as bright as diamonds, and all beg
ging as earnestly as did the three littl
tongues below them-for auntie to tel
them a story.
''Another story I" exclained auntie
"why I've told you two already to-day."
"'I know It auntie," said black-eyec
Will, always ready with an answer, "but
you see how it rains so we can't play out,
and 'sideQ-I gues I don't feel very well
--myI head kinder aches."
"And we're creOlc tired playing in the
tnat tic,'' put in blue-eyed baby Bess, and I
(o want to Jus' cuddle in somebody's arms,
and I'll keep jus its still as any little mice.'"
"She'd think you're big enough to say
attic 'stead of nattic," muttered Robbie,
the owner of the big gray eyes ; "but say
auntie, won't you tell us a robber story ?
"Yes, yes, auntie, a robber story," clt
oed Will, while Bessie "cuddled" in aun
tie's arms and prepared to be frightened by
the horrors to come. ''Can't you think of
a truc robber story with lots of fighting in
it ?" he added.
Auntie, like the little old man, had to
''scratch her head and think,'" for she could
not say "No" to the little pleaders.
"A true robbers story,'' he said smiling,
''well I'll do the best I can. I'll tell you
about t band of robbers that once lived in
a country a long way from here." (Bessie
gave a great sigh of relief at the last. words
-"a long way from here.") "They were
big, ugly-looking fellows, regular savages,
like all the people of those countries. They
did not have nice houses like ours but just dug
holes in the ground, piled Iin a lot of cocoa
nut husks, torn into strips, to answer for
beds, and that was all the furniture they
cared for. They drank salt water instead
of fresh water like ours, and used to car-ry
about with them wherever they went two
bags, of skin which they filled every morn
ing in the ocean, which was near their
"Why did they carry water around with
them all the tine?" querried Will.
"Well, 1 think they wanted water very
often, and being away from home much of
the time, they wanted to have it handy,"
replied auntie. "It is in that country the
cocoanuts grow, which you children are so
fond of-and these queer old robbers like
them even better than you do, for they
would not eat nothing else."
"No beefsteak, auntie ?" asked Robbie.
Beefsteak was the chief of his diet.
''No, they were vegetarians," replied
auntie; ''that's what people who eat no
meat are called. But did you ever see any
cocoanuts as they grow on the tree, chil
"I have," shouted Rob, eagerly "the
mish'nary that preached in our Sunday
school showed us one. You couldn't see
the nice white part that we eat at all, only
t big brown thing, with 'nawful hard shell
covered with t funny kind of stuff-I do'
know what you call it-hair, I guess."
"Yes," eaid auntie, "and that hair as
you call it, is what the robbers used for
beds, and the white part inside -Is what
they ate, and as they had no tools, no ham
mers, knives or axes, with which to break
the hard shells, they used to climb up the
cocoanut trees, and fling the big nuts down
as hard as they could throw them: 'I'hlis
geuerally broke the shell; and they could
dig out the fruit."
"But, auntie, tell about the fighting
part," said Will.
"Oh I the fighting part I" said aunttie.
"Well, these fellows were always called'the
robbers,' yet most of the fighting was done
by another tribe, and they had a funny way
of fighting, too. They did not know how
to make any.kindof weapons, but really they
needed none, for they had imensely
large, strong hands, and when they fought
they would seize their enemy with a terri
ble grip and then run off-leaving the hand
and arm still clutched in the flesh of their
"Why, autle, y'ou don't mean that they
could take their arms off-rcall.y," you
aren't telling true, auntie."
"But I do mean just that-only you see
the loss of an arm was not mluch to oneo of
these follows becaulso a now onie would
grow in a little while."
"Pho01 you're just making that up, aun
tie," said .incredulous Will, slhruggitng his
'Not a bit of it Willie, it's all real lion.
est truth," replied auntie, laughingly.
"But real menh don't have new arms grow
when their are cut off-'cause dont't you
know that one-armed beggar thtat camei
luere yesterday t Ho said Is arm was shiot
off In th.e war-and tliat was ever'n so long
"Alh, Willie, boy. I( d(d not say tha~t my
robbers were men. They are robber
cr'aba, and every word I told you about
theml is true," laughed auntie, "butI
haven'l thne to toll you any more, for the
supper boll will ring in five minutes, and
six little hands must be washed, and three
little heads be brushed, so as to be ready in
"But did they carry th'e-bags of salt wat.
r,auntie ?" questioned Will.
"Yes-they have two large bags or sacki
attached to their bodies, which they keel
constaultly filled with salt water," replied
atuntie as she trotted off up stairs with baby
During the late wind storm in the vicini
ty of Philadelphia, Pa., a large lantern or
top.of the elephant hlouse in the Zoological
Garden was demolIshed and pieces of the
heavy glass fell into the cage occupied by
tile elephants. The female elephant i1
walking around the enclosure trod on one of
the fragments and, being in her bare feet,
received a painful wound. S3he set up
howl that made tIhe roar of thte storm seen
the sighting of a z.ephyr by contrast. i
companion, was found to be comforting hea
as well- as lie could by trying to roar loude:
than she (did, and by letting a half pint teal
of sympathy now and then roll down his
trunk, which was wound tenderly about ti
wounded leg of the prostrate benst. Dr.
Chapman, surgeon to the Zoologlea~l society,
was summoned. She was secured by ropes
and thrown on her side on a bed of straw,
treatment which evoked from her.somes ex
tra efforts in the roaring line.' When Dr.
Ohapman began to probe softly around thu
wound with a lancet howvese slioWet
an elephant*s,ianti~;so o a frie
by easing her bell' ng a, hodig. th
infured foot perfectl stilt r Claa
successfully ronmvdh rgi~.g*a
stoed he flow oR *o 4fh 'te*un
jAnd in A iinutes at
agn ok ~fqtiolokhIge atbA4
' ' "~
Soup and Troubl,e.
A man clad in a new but poorly-fitting
- suit of store-clothes, and bearing a heavy
look of trouble around his mouth and across
s brow, went into a restaurant and taking
4 A seat apart from all other diners, shoved
his hat under the table, sighed deeply, and
called for soup.
The hot liquid was mrde black with pep
per, and then followed a swishing, gurgling
sound, at quick Intervals, like the plashing
of the tide. At the end of three minutes
the bowl was emtpty and the waiter again
It was brought.
Tears gathered in the eyes of the gloomy
man, but he brushed them away with his
napkin, and plunged his spoon again into
the steaming soup. The elbow crooked
and straightened with the regularity 01 a
heart-beat, and presently the waiter was
beckoned once more. IIe stepped up with
visible irritation, but catching an admonish
ing look from the steward, bent forward
"More soup," said the man with a plain-1
tive voice brimming over with emotion.
"Hadn't I better bring in the kettle this
trip," said the waiter.
"You might," said the man, with a sigh
that Jarred the table. "I've got heaps of
trouble to drown."
"We've got a gruel that will (1o more
with less bulk," said the waiter. "It might
hit the right spot sooner."
"I've never found no balm for a wounded
spirit that could walk around soup-'special
ly if it's hot and tolerably high-seasoned.
1 don't know whether it comes of being hot
and fetching on the sweat or not, but it
reaches for trouble every une, anid gets
away with a heartache quicker'n anything
I ever tried; so you may keep on with it 1
I guess, till my mind gets easy enough to
tackle corn beef and cabbage.'
'1'he waiter was softened by the humble j
grief before him, and much regretted his
thoughtless chaffling. le felt sympathetic,
and longed to soothe the aching breast.
"You're in trouble then?" he ventured,
"1 am pardner-deep," said the man, as
he reached over for a fresh pepper-box.
"Lose your property?"
"No--no. Worse'n that."
"Friends--near kinfolks maybe?" queried
the waiter, with a sober look.
"Worse'n that, a good deal."
"You don't say I I'm real sorry, sir; I
but maybe 'twas all for the best.
"No, I'll be dad-thumped if it wasl" ex- I
claimed the stranger, choking on the soup,
and getting red in the face. "Does it ever
do a man any good to be swindled?"
"Why, no-surely not."
"Well, that's just what. I'vn honn, and
in the meanest, dog-gonest way that any
1,ody ever was sold, too. 'ardner, I've
been the victim of a base. deceivin' one
eyed schemer. I was married last Mon
'rhe waiter could only make big eyes,
and catch his breath. The s(td man pro
"I said married, but swindled was the
word I meant-took in shameful. 1 mar
ried on 'spc,' with every prospect of get
ting both money and beauty, and here I ant
euchred blind. She was a widow, living
in good style, in a bunkum good house that
every body said belonged to her, and so I
thought there wasn't much risk. She was
as pretty to look at as a ripe watermelon,
but turns put to be a bigger fraud than a
The poor' lctim broke down with emo
tion, and had \o pause and mop his -eyes.
"Pardner, t1tem shIny, dazzlin' teeth,
that wilted me t,he first time I saw her grIn,
turns out .to bc sham, shop-made, and not
even paid for yet ; and so help me Hieze
klah, one of her eyes Is glass, and she sleeps
with her hair on the back of a chair ; but
the worst of It all Is that the house was only
her'n as long as she remaIned sIngle, and
now the regular heirs have served notice on
her to vamoose, and she actually expect,s
me to find a house and pay rent on It. I've
boen to see a lawyer, and all the consolatIon
lhe give. me is that I've got to grin and
bear it, 'cause the bargain was for better or
for worse. Fetch on another bowl of soul),
and have it i,xtra; warm."
'May be," said huisband to his loy
ng spouse, "you wouldn't be so handy
dis playing those big feet of yours if you
knew what occured when I took your
shoe to be mended."
"What was'it?-let me know instant
"Well, the shoemaker took it in his
hand gazed upon it in silence, and then
burst inito tears, and wept as if his
heart would break."
"Well, what was the numbekull dry
Ing for ?-quick, let me know I"
"Well, poor f'ellow,'he said he doted
on his grandmother-fairly doted on
her. She nursed him, you know, be..
cause his mother was feeble-and so
well, he came to this country 15 years
ago, and first he setup in the vegetable
ine, and Aot along pretty well, and
was about to send for the old lady,
when hard times camne, and he broke.
lie went~ into fruit then, and after that
into milk-into all sorts of things you
know; but lie got disappointed every
ti'ne, till his business fetched hIm out
at last, anid lie sent right oft' for the old
woman. She landed four weeks ago,
but died 'The very same night. It was
very hard, after all his toiling for fif
teen years, to get her over at last, and
have her die on his hands.. He-he
well, he was disgusted. Hlowevet ' he
laid her out, and he and hiK fridnds -sat
up with her, and by and by the memory
of her virtues softened his bitternees
and turned it tros tender. trief. 4 sett1q4I
melancholy,, that 1hung abont shjs spIita
formuany days. Ho,ver, by striying
to keep his thoughts emsployed on oi.1gt
suldees he was Aially be tining a
I egin sone littIeO'f ola hed
FOOD FOR THOUGHT.
''Ihe higher up the mountain you climb
the higher you can see.
We are as liable to be corrupted by
books as by companions.
'lhe great misfortune of all is not to
be able to bear misfortune.
One can not bear to pay for an arti
cle he used to get for nothing.
Age that lessons the enjoyment of
life, increases our desire of living.
Example is always more efilcacious
Few things are impossible to dill
gence and skill.
A man used to vicissitudes Is not eas
One smile for the living is worth a
Llozen tears for the dead.
atziness is a premature death. To be
in no action, is not to live.
)lvinu vengeance comes with feet of
Lead, but strikes with the hand of iron.
Absence'destroys trilling intiiacies,
but it invigorates strong ones.
To the blessed eternity itself there is
io other handle than this instant.
Let us search ourselves in the first
place, and afterwards the world.
Ragged clothing cannotdebase a man
is much as a frayed reputation.
If evil be said of thee, and it Is true,
,orrect It; itf It be a lie, laugh at it.
Employment 1s Nature's physician,
Lid is essential to human happiness.
If every year we rooted out one vice,
ve should soon begome perfect men.
No one will dare maintain that it is
)etter to do injustice than to bear It.
It is more profitable to look up our de
ects than to boast of our attaninients.
A man owes his success in his life
vork to the woman who walks beside
The sweetest thing on earth is a little
hild when it has learned to know and
Bodily enjoyment depends upon good
ieaith, and health depends upon tem
Knowledge will always predominate
>ver agnormee, as man governs the
Human life is everywhere a state in
vhich much is.to be endured, and little
o be enjoyed.
After frientiship and love come bene
olence and that compassion whilh
uites the soul to the unfortunate.
Ilow contagious Is the laugh of some
>eople; how jarring that of others, like
>laying on a wornout plano.
The innocence and purity of child
ood brings bitter heart pangs to the
in-hardened man and worldly woman.
Peoplo who cannot heartily love and
ate will never command the first or
now the clearing influence of the lat
It is better to wear out than to rust
,ut.. We must not only strike the iron
vhile it is hot, but strike until it is
Life would surely be a dreary waste
f one could not'have his picture taken
very time a new collar is introduced
nto the market.
Only they who carry sincerity to the
ighest point, In whom there remains
iot a single hair's bre.adth of hypocrisy,
an see the hidden springs'of things.
Good pictures are great teachers. A
Inn work of art hanging in one's house
ipeaks to hini constantly in language
)f tender beauty th}tt wins its way to
A superior capacity for business, and
L more extensive knowledge, are steps
y which a new man otten mounts to
avor andl outelhines tihe rest of his con
How fewv realize that the strata of
ove and hate lie so close .tge&her that
t takes but little to bringthe latter up
ermnost, when under the pressure of
inkindness or injustice.
,Great works are~ performed, not by
rtrengt.h, but by perseverance: he that '
h'ail walk with~ vigor three .hurs a
lay, will pass In seven years a space
iqual to the ciroumferencce f the globe.
The liberty of using.harmless pleas
ares wvill not bQ disputed;. bgt it Is
still to be examined. whi.t .pleasuares
Ire harmless. The evil of any p>leasuare
a not In tihe act itself, but in its conse
Suoch is the taeoflfo tli, 'one are
iappy but by 4 o of
hange. The ehan 0t tig
~hen we have mad it-the next ish is
0ochange again. The World is not yet
Whatever fiolitates our orli is more
~han an omen ; it 1s a 'catise of success.
this is one of' thos'e pleasiiig usrprises
vh ich ofteni hapgiens to act ro' resolui
Ion. MIany thi ngs.difficult, to designi
rove easy to, performarle,
We smile at.the ignorance,4 Jhe say
ge who cuts down the sr' xorder to
reach the fruit; but the fa~if that a
alunder of.- this descriptomis made by
svery person w ho is eyer eager and im
patient in the pursuit~ pesge.
In the'decline of li sapie and.
Srief are of sh'ort dirntiou' w eher it
~ethaat we bear easily wIhat' *o have
borne long, or tha, findino- ourselves
n age less regar4d wee~ regard -
>thers; or, that 1' loo it Ight re
latrd ubon afflitibne, t&s ioi ekn.'w
shat th'e hand of death is about to p ut
The life that Ia devote i .W knowled e
pasqs silently awy aI~ Initwy liti 0
Jive sifled byeyer3 in pub
hearg to iquire~ n Il'adlil<quir
le,i h ,bsns of a0 deholat. lie
or. te an nor
Evein ai 'a lilt ~ 4~11The.
be an easy d*~ 4dt*I~I
nde si ye
h , lo