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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., JULY 24, 1879. VOL. 111.-NO. 75.
Trip lightly over trouble,
Trip lightly over wrong;
We only make grief double
By dw4Uing on it long.
Why clasp Woe's bauds so tightly?
Why sigh o'er blossoms dead ?
Why cling to forms unsightly ?
Why vot -ok joy instead ?
Trip lightly over sorrow,
Though all the days be dark,
The sun may sline to-mnrrow
And gayly sing the lark.
Fair Hope has not departed.
Though roses may have fled;
Then never be down-hearted.
But look for joy ii4tead.
Trip lightly over sadness,
Stand not to rail at doom;
We've pearls to string of gladnoss
On this side of the tomb.
Whilst stars are nightly nhining,
And heaven is ovoi hoad,
Encourage not repining,
But look for joy instead.
The Strolling Players.
" Can't you listen to reason tor a inhi
uto?" asked Mr. Miles Forrester, as he com'
pelled his handsome nephew, Gerald, to sit
down besides him on a rustic bench in the
"For one minute ? Certainly, uncle,"
replied the young fellow. "Tinic's up?
'rhe minute's expired. Let's talk nonsense.
"You are incorrigible, Gerald."
"No, air I no, sir I Why don't you look
on life with a little of my philosophy ? Con
fess, my dear uncle, that you haven't been
so very happy ; that you are not very happy
now, in - spite of your wealth, your flne
house, your real estate and California in
"Very true, Gerald. And if this world
had been.intended as a great playground I
should confess that I had mistaken my ca
reer. Your father was a wild dreamer like
you: visionary, unstable. lie had no steadi
ness, even in his profession.
"'1He left some good pictures, though,"
"is subjects were so eccentric that lie
could not sell them. I was almost his only
patron. My house Is full of things that no
body would buy."
"The ordinary fate of genius," remarked
"But had he gone into trade as I (lid, his
wife would not have died of privation and
a broken heart."
'Poor mother I"
"Half of these wrinkles on iy brow,"
pursued the old gentleman, "were not traced
by age, but by care. The care occasioned
by your father and yourself. But a truce
to all this now. I am amply rich to allow
you, if I chose, to follow your fancy wher
ever it may lead you. But I am a man of
principle, as rigidly wedded to what 1 know
to be right, as you are to your profitless day
dreams. If you will not do as I wish you
I withdraw my countenanc3 and aid, and
leave you to work out your own salvation.
I have laid two propositions before you;
one to go into business, in a respectable
house, 1 to furnish the capital; the other to
accept the hand of Mrs. Rashton, young,
rich, and pretty. I do not insist on your
acceptance of both of these propositions,
but you must take one or the other, or we
"The first, my dear uncle, I decidedly
"But you'll marry the widow; she comei
here to-day, you know."
"Thank you for the widow; I'll keel
clear of her."
"Incorrigible boy i What do you pro
pose to do with yourself ?"
"I haven't exactly decided, uncle. But
the world offers a wide field to a gentleman
of my figure, taste, accomplishments and
education. I might be a strolling player,
or a traveling portrait painter; or I have
thought of reviving the traditions of the el
der ages, and going about like Homer, sing.
lag my own verses to my own music."
"Then you are determined to leave me?'
said the old gentleman, rising. .Poor,
foolish, headstrong boy."
"I shall not trouble you long, my deal
sir," said the young man. "But at leasj
say that we part friends," lie added, hold
ing.out his hand.
'lfiriende 1" said the old man, with a teai
ini his eye. "I love you better than any.
thing else in the world. But my principles
"So arec mine," said Gereld. "Good-b3
till we meet again."
They shook hands in token of amity, anm
went in different directions, Gerald stroll.
lug along through a fine oak grove.
Hie was roused from his abstractilon, how
ever, by the sound of merry laughter. Ad
vancing cautiously, ho soon obtained a viev
of an open glade in the wood, and of
group of persons who had taken- possessior
of the spot. And it was not long before he
knew the group to be a lot of traveling act,
ore. Among thorn was a long-faced, mel
ancholy man, in a seedy black suit, seatec
beside a buxom, smiling damsel, and
stout, ruddy-checked gentleman, flashily at
tired, who sat opposite a second trir-muil
damsel, arid the whole party were busiha
engaged in tattling, laughing and devour
ing a miscellanegus feast, consiatingof ham
cold chicken, crackers and bottled ale. I
was a little pionic party, in short.
The breaking of a dried branch on whiicl
he had incauitiously rested, -revealed thi
presence of Gerald,
"Ha I" cried the red-nosed man, with
theatrical start, "whom have we here? Ad
vance friend, and give the countersign."
"My friend;," said Gerald, advancing
"excuse my interrupting your festivity.
beg you will not let me disturb you. I in
"Perhaps rou have as good a right her
as ourselves, 'said the red-nosed man, witl
a merry twinkle of the eye. "Are you th
owner of this charming spot?"
"No, sir," replied Gerald, with a smile
"I am only the nephew of the owner c
this spot ; and allew me to bid you as auel
of a welcome to this j 'lace as I, only th
nephew of the proprietor, may extend'. Dii
I feel at liberty I would ask you into th
"Eniough said, young gentleman t'~ erie
the red-nosed man, with a waive ofg hi
bread,knife.- "And for the hospitality c
the forest, sir, permnit us to reqtite you1x
lnvitIglsou to it seat at our bostd-wr
G9rald sat de dik$ t strange, rdet
rf end*A 0lyeci at home,
noi do sidTte rednoe
man, using the same quaint phraseology he I
had already adopted, "in return for your i
confidence (Gerald had mentioned his name)
let us inform you who we are. We are a a
company of traveling Thespians-in other v
words, strolling players. I rejoice in the I
name of Horatio Blvvins, and am the mana- I
ger of these unmanageable ladies and gen
tleien. That melancholy mian in the 'suit
of sables' is our low comedian. That black
eyed lady at your left, Mr. Forrester, is
Miss Jones, the best chambermaid in the
country. The other lady, Miss Doxie, is I
our walking lady. My friend in the red
waistcoat does the high tragedy. Mr. Wolf,
Mr. Forrester. The rest of our troupe have
gone on before to engage a hall in the coun- I
ty town-to post the bills-to propitiate the
editor-and to bespeak a favorable hearing
'for us and for our tragedy.' "
"Ah, you are happy, my friends," said
Gerald; "while I-"
"Are you unhappy?" cried the dark-eyed r
girl, laying her hand lightly on the young
The most miserable (log alive I cried t
"flow," exclaimed the manager, in his
deep stage tones.
"My uncle wants to set nie up in busi.
"Hang businessI" said the ruddy cheek- 4
ed gentleman, Mr. Wolf.
"And he wants me to marry a rich
"Hard-hearted old hunks I" cried the
black-eyed girl, winking slyly at the trage
"In short," said Gerald, "we nust part.
I have been casting round for a profession, c
and I don't see that I can do anything bet
ter than turn actor."
"Sir," said Mr. Bivvins, "your good at ar
led us here to-day. You're born to shine
upon the boards, sir. Are you up in any
parts, Mr. Forrester?"
"I know fifty plays by heart."
"Romeo, for instance?"
"Every word of It."
"Then we're in luck I" cried the manager.
"What do you say, Mr. Wolf ? * Two first
appearances for one night I It'll draw like
a pitch plaster. There'll be a twenty dollar
house. You know ybu only consented to I
do Romeo to oblige ine. Well, you take
Tybalt, and let Mr. Forrester take Romeo." t
Mr. Bivvins then explained to Gerald 1
that they .vei'c to play Romeo and Juliet
that night to introduce a debutante, Mrs.
Mortiner, to a generous and discerning pub
lic. Mrs. Mortimer was a romantic young
widow, of splendid talents, who had run I
away from the tyranny of her friends in
New York, and just joined the company. t
She was beautiful and accomplished.
Gerald did not see her face till he en
countered her upon the stage at night.
Then lie was dazzled by her charms. They
were not those fictitious beauties which the
close glare of the footlights reveal in all
their treachery to the actor, though they t
strike the distant audience with bewilder
ment. No pearl powder and carmine, but
the roses and lilies of youth and health
adorned her lovely face. Her rounded arms
and shoulders shamed the pearls that rested
on them. Amid the awkw;Ard figures that t
surrounded lier, she moved with the grace c
of a queen. It was not difficult for the
Romeo of the evening to feign an attach
ment to so beautiful a creature, and before
the curtain fell, amid thunders of applause,
he found himself pleading the cause of a
And from this moment he wooed the lady
in downright earnest, and was ultimately
accepted. She never asked what his pros
pects were, nor did he inquire into her an
tecedents. It was enough for the giddy
pated fellow that she was beautiful, and
loved him. They had about a hundred dol
lars between them, and with that to live up
on, until something turned up, they con
cluded to abandon the strolling company
without beat of drum, and, eloping to New
York, they there got married.
Before the month was out they liad run
to for want of~ funds. Then Gerald, with
starvation staring him in the face, roamed
New York in search of employment. Dis
appointment met hint everywhere. Noth..
ing remained but to throw himself on the
generosity of his uncle. He communicated
his project to his bride ; she acquiesced in
thne arrangement, and, raising funds by
pledging a gold watch, they started for
Mr. Forrester was reading in his library
when the couple were announced. He
dropped his paper, and the couple fell at
"Uncle, pardon me 1" exclaimed Gerald,
"for running away without your consent."
"Uncle-my uncle I" cried Mrs. Forres
ter ; "be an uncle and please pardon Ger
"Get up, you blockhead I you'll burst thme
knees of those ridiculously tight panta
Ioons!" cried the old gentleman. "Julia,
don't be making a fool of yourself I"
"Julia ?" cried .Gerald - how did you
learn her name ?"
"Oh, she's an old friend of mine," said
the old gentleman, winking mischievously.
The bride burst into a fit of hearty laugh
"Nephew I" said the old gentleman, "al
low me to present you to Mrs. Rashton
"Mrs. Rashton I" exclaimed Gerard, in
"Yes-the widow you tried to run away
from-but whom you ran away with, after
all, my boy I"
"What I have I been a dupe?" criedl Gor
"Dona't be angry, my lad. Your old uin
ole only borrowed a little bit of, your ro
mance to cure you of your visionary notioins.
I engaged those strolling actors to come In
to my grounds, because I knew very well
you'd go off with them. I iunduced ,lha to
make her first appearance-and I saw it,
too, through a pair of green spectacles, with
a red wig on my head, and an old plaid
Scloak around me. Yet I paid my quarter
~ to ace the show. Ha I ha I"
"Fairly trapped !" cried Geraid.
"Yes, and if you go tramping round the
world like a gipsy, trying to realize your
fday dreams, you'll. be everybody's dupe.
Yet I suppose you.are dotermned to make
s the stage a profession." t. man
I "N~ot so, uncele ;" said teyoungma
6 rather sheopishily; "I'tried to get a' clerk
ship In New York,"
I ' And they wouldn't have you. Hal ha!
s Well, don't let old Trapball know that,-or
t he m allo 11w you to conmoinwith a cap.
fI ialc4 000O."
I Mydpar' generous uncle!" cried, Gor
4Tt, td or I 'lid061y too gla4'that
tomeo I Egad I I think I could play it
ayself as well as Bivvins.
We need hardly add that Gerald became
steady thriving merchant, and never re
rerted, without feeling his cheeks tingle, to
he episode of his connection with the stroll
"Are professional criminals often
Pood workmen with tools?"
"You can hardly call them fine
vorkien. Nor are they generally
,cry strong mon. Almost all the hard
abor they get Is when they are sent to
>rison at hard labor. There are cer
an burglars, however, who are sliarp
nough to open almost any safe. In
>oint of fact there is no such thing as
naking a safe which a butglar cannot
open. They have an apparatus which
vill rip out the whole front of any safe
hat can be made. It consists of an up
ight, which is screwed into the floor,
4id on this they get a leverage with a
ever which has an edge as sharp as a
-azor and will go into the minutest
rack. That machine will tear out the
vhole front of a colossal safe. A case
vas tried in England some time ago.
k man sued a safe maker for selling
lin an alleged burglar proof safe which
vas afterward robbed. The safe
naker proved in court that no safe
ould be made which could not be pried
"What time do thieves generally so
oct to rob a bank ?' .
"They generally want all the time
hey can get, as it is a long job to drill
hrough thick steel doors. Thieves
,enerally commence Saturday night,so
hey can have all night and next day,
id the following night to work in.
Chey hardly ever go- at a safe until
heir stool pigeons have carefully pl ped
dl the people on watch for weeks and
vecks, and know their habits, when
,hey visit the bank. Not long ago, a
)ank in Brooklyn, near the ferry, was
narked for robbery,and the thieves got
t the bank Saturday night and were
it work there Sunday, when one of the
)ank men unlocked the bank door. He
lidn't see the thieves, nor even suspect
heir existence. He was going to
shurch, however, that morning, and
When lie left the bank, walked very
apidly in the direction of the station
louse. Thereupon the 'crow' or the
Lecomplices of the thieves outside,gave
hemi the signal of danger, and they
Iropped their tools, and went out of
he bank in haste. On Monday morn
ng. there was seen all their apparatus
and they were Just on the point of get
ing in at the money when frightened
"Do burglars ever save their money ?"
"Occasionally you find one that is
rery frugal, temperate and thrifty; It
3 exceptional however. Mike Shen
)urn, whom I regard as the biggest
urglar in this country, is said to be
Iving snugly in Switzerland on the
noney he derived from robbing the
)cean Bank more than ten years ago.
Jimmy Hope is in Canada. He proba
)ly has not much money, because his
ion is a scapegrace who cleans him out.
Burglars generally marry fast women;
'hey have no opportunity to address a
ady of respectability, and often have
;o take a woman of the town."
"Do the detectives generally keep
laith with each other?"
"That depends on the men. I know
tome detectives who are the equals in
'onor and fidelity~of any man in the
world. There are others of considera
1e reputation who are habitual In
~riguers. There was once in the Cen
ral Office a detective of considierable
'iewspaper notoriety, but extremely
oft. he thought his bosom frien d was
mother detective now retired. The
tatter found that the Police Commis
soners were about to promote the other
nan to his place in the force, and retire
htimslf into the patrol or common po
Lice body. TIheroupon the man had an
recomplice take the soft ofalcer to a ho
tel near the police quarters and fill him
up with lush. (Drink.) While lie
was there intoxicated, a rare thing for
that man, the dtishonestofRlcer and false
friend sent a Police Commissioner
riround to the tavern to see the drunk
an detective. Thereilpon the latter
was degraded, and to thuis day does not
know that his supposed friend sold him
Does Smoke Blacken Banduings.
Prof. Paley has raised the question.
whether the blackness of St. Paul's Ca
thedral, and many other 1Cnglish city
edifices, arises, as has hitherto been
supposed, from smoke. Having observ
od at Cambridge stones in nowise ex
exposed to the action of smoke similar
ly blackened, *he learned on Inquiry
that under a strong microscopic invest
igation of scrapings from such stone9,
the darkness had .beenu exclusively
proved to be due to a peculiar kind of
lichen, which i4 peculiar to sandstone,
and that It is always in proportion to
the absence of the sun's rays, and that
when a stone is much exposed to such
rays there Is no darkness. hlaving ex.
amined a curious lichen which grows
in circular patches on Peterborough
Cathedral, he found that It hatd the
property of extracting quantities of
lIme from the texture .of the stone.
The Professor thinkt that sciehco may
probably snggst a coii'se to neutral
ise thl*' eketabl6 blackening probbes
But spionoe and authorIty han~d In h'and
oug~ht to go furthers ,and Qjuash the
smoMo of towns,*hich Is waste otf1u41
w(brklng ap nMal Qutlay 9iilo
In consjegae shin nd leaning
For some time past the Bow Bells,on
of the finest, if not the finest church Ii
the city of London,has been undergoinj
examination in the public interest, an(
before long the familiar chimes whici
captivated or consoled a Whittington
and have since charmed many mor
from time immemorial, will ring out a
before. The Church of St. Mary-Ic-Bow
which, if not originally a Roman tom.
ple, as generaily believed, was one o
the earliest churches built by our Nor
man conquerors, has been destroyce
more than once by storm and fire. I
was at one time garrisoned and be
steged, and aftorward the scene of av
assassination. It was first ientionet
as a Christian church in the reign o
William the Conqueror. Stov stays I
was the fivst In the %3ity built on archei
of stone, and that It was therefor<
called St. Mary de Arcubus, or the Bow
although he elsewhere says, with les
apparent probability, that it took ti
name from certain stone arches sup
porting a lantern on the top of th(
towur. By the way, the Court of ArcheE
was formerly held in this church, am
derived its name from the circumstance
During the reign of William Rufus thi
root of the church was blown off by th<
wind, and four of the rhfters wern
driven into the ground with such vio
lence that, although they were eac
twenty-six feet long, little more thar
four feet of length was visible, th(
ground In the neighborhood being ther
a mere fen. About 100 years after thli
event a tumult of a serious nature oc.
curred in the city, which led to the as
sault on the church before alluded to
The ringleader was William Fitz Os.
bert,. surnamed Longbeard, who wa,
almost worshipped by the lower order#
on account of his exertions as a pro.
fessed advocate of the poor against the
rich. An attempt being made to seize
him he took refuge in Bow steeple
together with various followers, anI
being well provided with amiunitioi
and provisions, was able for a a lonp
time to defy the authorities. In ordej
to drive him out the steeple was fired
This had the desired effect; the rioter,
were made prisoners; and, after a hast3
trial, were hanged at the Elms in
Smithfield, at that time the usual plac<
of execution. It appeared that Fit:
Osbert (lid not lose his reputation amonp
the people with his life, for it is sah
that after his death vast numbers of
people resorted to Smithfield, expectinj
that miracles would be performed, ant
that they carried away as holy relic
pieces of the earth on which his bloot
A Nio Place for Quiet People.
In Winnsboro, Texas, there is a druj
store kept by a Mr. Skeen, who havinj
occasion to be absent, instructed hi
clerk, a young man, not to sell to an;
person whatever on credit. Durinj
his absence two men named Davis
and known as. desperadoes, rode up
and entering the store called fo
whisky on a credit. They got tw
bottles, and going off cane back ani
demanded more. -. The boy refused
whereupoh they fell to cursing him
At this juncture also entered the store
a merchant of Leesburg-Mille
Mitchell-a unice, gooti, honest man
who, seeing the boy imposed upon too:
his part, and told the desperadoes the;
were wrong. At this the villians dres
"Are you sorry for wvhat you hav
"I have said nothing to be sorry for,'
returned the merchant.
"Then I'll make you sorry," angrill
retorted Brooks Davis.
.Withn that the cutthroat slapped hin
in the face with one hand, and witi
pistol in the other, pulled the trigger
shooting Mitchell through thne stomaci
fatally. Mitohell wrenched. the pist<
Irom the hands of the mlurdlerer, an<
fired at him as he rani out, but withou
effect. The victim died a few hour
afterward. Recently, two traveler
had ridden to a point in sight of th
hills upon which Weatherford is bull
A dispute arose on some subject, coni
paratively unimportant. Dunker ha
the temerity to disagree with Blacli
well. The latter got Into a passio
stimulated by the fumes of whisky an
drawing his pistol fired at Dunker sei
eral times, completely riddling hir
with holes. Dunker fell from his hor.
and his corpse was found in the roa
the following morning. As usual, th
. A Gritty Girl.
Mist Caroline Eggleson was comin
to town the other day and saw a larj
rattlesnake coiled uip and takig a na
right in her path. Now docn't thin
she screamed like a Comanche an
worked herself into a fit trying to g<n
away from that snake; not a bit of -I
She just ngathered.'the dimity carefuil
away from her-feet, slipped uip slyl;
and with the precision of a practice
hand placed her.heel fair on that uu
suspecting serpent's head. The mnal
writhed and slehed around, strut
rattle-end.-to as high as her elbow
wound around her limbs and equlgme
in the miost approved snake style. 1.Bm
it was to no use. The more it t*iste
the harder she bore down and twiste
hor gaiter Ipeel o:1 his. og keship
head, until the struge was *,er ,a
ths sneke gaweusp the ghost.
Sympathetic Inks. II
3 A great number of sympathetic Inks 01
I may be obtained by means of reactions
r known to chemisty. For Instance,
I write on paper with a colorless solu
tion of sugar of lead; if the water that
is used for the solution be pure, no n
I trace of the writing will remain when
a it becdumes dry. Now hold the paper c0
over a jet of sulp1hmrated hydrogen, a
and the characters will Immediately
I appear on the paper of an intense black bi
- color. The following receipes for Iuks
of this kind are more simple: If writing ti
be executed with a dilute solution of Be
sulphate of iron, the invisible charac- li
i ters will appear of a beautiful blue, if ri
I the paper be brushed over with a pen- a
oil full of a solution dt'ellow prusslate til
of potash; or they will be black, If a tq
solution of tannin be substituted for II
the prusslate. If the characters be
written with a solution of sulphate of pi
i copper, they will at ouce turn blue on a
exposing to the vapors of ammonia.
Another sympathetic Ink is afforded by
chloride of gold, which becomes a red
dish purple, when acted upon by a salt 1
of tin. A red sympathetic ink may be
made in the following manner: Write
with a very dilute solution of perchlo- if
i ride of iron-so dilute, Indeed, that the t
writing will be invisible whei, dry.
By holding the paper in the vapor aris
ing from a long-necked glass flask con
taining sulphuric acid and a few drops to
of a solution of s0pho-cyanide of pot- al
i assium, the characters will appear of a
blood red color, which will again die- A
appear on submitting them to the va
pors of caustic ammonia. This expor
iment can be repeated ad infinitum. 1
During the war in India, soine years
ago, important correspondence was
carried on by the Engliab by means of b
the use of rice water as a writing fluid.
On the application of iodine, the des- t
patches immediately appeared in blue t
characters. Sympathetic inks which U
are developed under the influence of
heat only, are much easier to use thanf
the foregoing. Almot every one, per- III
haps, knows that if writing be executed 01
on paper with a clean quill dipped iI t11
i onion or turnip juice, it becomes abso- T
lutely Invisible when dry; and that h4
when the paper is heated the writing at
at once makes its appearance in char- A
actors of a brown color. All albumi
nold, mucliaginous and saccharine veg
etable juices make excellent sympa
thetic inks; we may cite, as among the
best, the juices of lemon, orange, apple
and nar. A dilute solution of chloride 0)
of copper used for writing Is invisible P
until the paper is heated, when the let- P
sers are seen of a beautiful yellow, dis
appearing again when the heat that 8
developed them Is removed. The salts o
of cobalt, as the acetate, nitrate, sul- is
phate and chloride, possess a like prop- i
erty. When a dilute solution of these if
salts is used as an ink. the writing, al- a
though invisible when dry, becomes k
blue when exposed to heat. The ad- tl
dition ofa hleride of iron, or of a salt of si
nickle, renders them green, and this P
opens the way for a very pretty exper- a
r iment: 11 a winter landscape be drawn "
in India ink, and the sky be painted u
with a wash of cobalt alone, and the 0
branches of the trees be clothed with 10
leaves executed with a wash of cobalt "
and nicklo, and tihe snow clad earth be 14
rwasedc over with the same mixture, a 01
miagie transformation at once takes b
on the apl)1ication~ of heat, the winter ti
landscape changing into a summer h
Both are rich, and have spent many
seasons ait Saratoga; names Willie and
Minnie. The mother says they have
been en)gaged to cachi other since child
hood; that both have been reared with "
care and tenderness, and though she si
does say it, both are "well-born,'' and SI
that'the wedding ceremony will soon a
Stake place. They live in the city of
Boston. Th'le following conversation tI
t took place between them in my hear- ta
ing : b'
Minnie-I don't like mountains ; they nl
are so-se big and dirty. Do you WIlI- 0'
lie dear ? al
-Willie-No, Indeed, Minnie, I don't. e
1Great, awkward, uncouth things, and a
-are so-so much in the way, too. But II
when I left Boston, Uncle Charles told II
me 1 must take you up on the top of ta
Pike's Peak. 14
Minnie-Oh, Willie, do you think I tl
would ride up on a vulgar mule-the a
Sidea, is so absurd-no, never, n,ever ! ti
SWillie ? I shall fainti C
Willie-Oh, clear Minnie, don't faint, "
I will stay down here in this sweetval- A
Iey with you until the others return. h)
g Nerve and Humor in Battle. e
eA brave English satior, at the battle
of Trfagar, while serving at his gun a
d on the main-deck, was struck by a shot
tcoming in at the port, which took off
his leg below the knee. -'As he sank
down upon a shot-box, and saw the
section clean gone, he muttered: . ti
d "Ahm lit's onlya shilling affair, that? t
.-had It gone a few inches higher I'd 'a ~
* got my eighteen pence for it." Heal- a
k luded to the scale of ponsions, abgraded ),
r, by theQ severity of the wound.d
d Afterwards while one of his mates t
'1 waqeorrying him below to the cockpit, 1
d hW suddenly eried out :"lo I Jack? ?
'a when you go-bael~ be sture slid take a '
'a look at my leg, and save me the syver.
n ogle on the:ohop.. il dIo as guoch. t
Sr you it the Lord spares met? i
E Xpra is a gIkl -reply for aniothga 3
3et was bearing down upon the fleet
the enemy-the Spaniards-that the
iaplain of a frigate asked the con
andor, who was all allve with excite
ent, and eager in the work:
"Captain, have you reckoned the
tmber of the enemy ?"
"No, no--not yet," replied the brave
alef. "We cani (1o that more readily
ter they are ours."
Here is another of a 11i1ferent cast, t
it it's humor i8 not to be deniled :
The French at Wagramn, were making
e finest onset of the battle, when a
rgeant of infantry who was holding
a conmpany in line tipon the extreme I
ght of his regiment, was st upon by
yelping snarling cur, belon.4tig to 1
e colonel. The old soldier coult not
moly bear this, and with a movement
ce lightning, lie charged bayonet
)on the dog, and ran him through,
obably to the heart. The colonel
w, and being near the spot lie rode
"Look, you, my man, why could you
)t have just as well made at my dog
Ith the butt of your musket?"
"Parbleu/ I'd have done it, Colonel,
the brute had only made at me in
e same way "
The Virgins' non as.
The Virgins' bones aro a greater cui
sity of Cologne than the Cathedral, t
ad yet we rarely hear of them in
merica. Among thousands of legeids
the Rhine is that of the pious St. U r
ila and the eleven thousand Virgins,
ho, 1400 years ago, wont up the river
a a pilgrimage to Rome, and returnming t
ore all murdered by the iluns. Their
mnes were gathered together, and in i
me way unexplained, were brought t
Cologne and buried in a common
ib, over which, after many years,
as erected the present church of bt.
rsula, which Is 850 years old. Sub- 1
quently the bones were exhumed
om beneath the chuich, brought up d
to it and placed arotuid it forming
ke of the most extraordinary displays
at the eyes of mai ever witnessed.
lie cmurch is not very large, and its
,avy walls, low ceilings, and ancient
yLe of construction show I ts antiquity.
11 around this church are encased the I
:ulls and bones, huge stone receptacles I
)ing filled with them, with apertures C
the sides through which the bones
in be seen, and the skulls being pu
1 little rows of shelves divided off like
geon holes. All the skulls have the
Lrt below the forehead covered with
ie needle work and embroidery, and
me of them are inlaid with pearls and 1
her preelo4s stones. 'he collection
certainly a remarkable one, there be
ig, besides the collection of bones, 1
100 of these skulls arranged in cases
'ound the church, wilst in a room
iown as the Treasury, which is about
kirty feet square, there are 732 more
culls en the walls, and the entire up
,r portion is covered with bones which
,e arranged everywhere, excepting
here the winctows let in light. Here
nder speolal glass eases, are the skulls
bt. Ursula herself, her lover and sev
*at of the principal virglng; together
ith the bones of her rigi~t and left
ot anct one arm. There are also
hier relics, Including one of the ala
ister vases wherein the SaviouIr turned
ac water Iito wine. TIhiis vase would
aid about four gallons, but part of tihe
outhi and one haadle are gone, and
is so cracked and dilapidated that it
robably wouald hold very lIttle niow.
Didn't Like fiIt Experience.
Recently about neon somie lads who1
ere rushing the season by going in
vimnming In the~ river unear Sullivan
reet, Elmira, were subjeeted to quite
sensation. A man took his horses to
e river to let them dirink, leading
ocm by halter. While they were in
ae water one of the boys got on the
ick of one of the horses, which im
Ledlately started for home. Having
sly a halter the boy could n't stop him.
rid the horse like the man with the
>rk leg, Went faster as lie progressed,
ad the boy had to hang on for dear
fe. Hero was a spectacle that Mazeppa
aight have coveted. Up Water street
>his stable near H igh, the horse gal
iped with an apparition on his back,
iat doubtless scaredl him as much as it
stonished the natives who witnessed
1e wild ride, to say nothing of the
ansternation of the boy, who rode
!ithout weight; In fact he was just as
ratuire fashioned himi. When the
orse got home he stopped, and as soon
a his comrades brought him his
lothes the boy dressed himself and
rent home, feeling very nmuch as if he
ad just finished a six days' walking
Whateconttutes true loveliness ? Not
he polished brow, the gaudy dress, nor
he show and parade of fashlQnable life.
L woman may have all the outward
iarks of beauty, and yet not 'possess a
vely character. It is the benevolent
isposition, the kind act.s and the Chris.
Ian deportment. It ia iri the heart,
thiere meekness, truth and humility are
ound, where we okpfor )Qveliness.
'he woman who ean soothe the aching
e4rt, smooth the aohing heart, AniGoth
he wrinkled br6w 1 l~ate tb n.
u Ioftbe tn1%pd, anj a mi~hi~i
FOOD FOR THOUGHT.
Be rigid to yourself and gentle to
To know how to wait is the great so
,ret of success.
Life and death, prosperity and ruin,
aing upon little things.
When reason is against a man, a man
viII be against reason.
The higher up the mountain you climb
he higher you can see.
We are as liable to be corrupted by
>ooks as by companions.
The greatest misfortune of all Is not
o be able to bear misfortune.
One cannot boar to pay for an article
io used to get for nothing.
Age that lessons the enjoyment of
ife, Increases our desire of living.
We cannot have fertilizing showers
>n the earth without a clouded heaven
bove. It is thus with our trials.
Every man who has risen to great
icso has done so by attention to small
They imake up our lives. The self
x perience of every man will prove this
This may be applied to everything in
Ife-love, fame, matrimony, and all
inds of money.
A year ot pleasure passes like a fleet
ug breeze, but a moment of sorrow
Cenms an age of pain.
G]reat souls are always loyally oubmim
Ive to what Is over them; only mean
ouls are otherwise.
Courage, the commonest of the vlr
ties, obtaIns nioro applause than dis
retion, the rarest of them.
Love can excuse anything except
ricainess; but meanness kills love and
ripples natural auffection.
You remember Benjamin Franklin's
iaxim, "Take care of the cents, an(i
lie dollars will take care of themselves.
Tears are the gift which love bestows
ipon the memory of the absent, and
hie will avaIl to keep the heart from
If the loved ones could come back to
arth only long enough to be forgiven,
t would relieve many a remorseless
Tile mnan who violently hates or ar.
ently loves cannot help being In some
egree or sense a slave to the person
e detests or ad ores.
Never retire at night without being
viser than when you rose in the morn
ng, by having learned somnething use
ul during the (lay.
The more honesty a man has, the less
te affects the airs of-a saint; the affec
ation of sanctity is a blot on the face
When a man pulls out his sixpence
nd gives that when he is laying by
housands of pounds, I can only con
ider that lie forms a pretty accurate
neasurenent of the value ot' his relil
Wilmot, the infidel, when dying, laid
ti trembling. emaciated hands upon
he Sacred Volume, and exclaimed,
olemnnly and with unwonted energy :
'The only objection against this book
s a bad life I"
A dear old friend of mine used to say,
vith the truest Christian charity when
to heard any one being loudly eon
lemned for some fault: 'A! well, yes,
t seems very bad to me, becauspe that's
tot my way of sinning,"
The greater your wants, the greater
lod's goodness in supplying them; the
Preater your enemies, the greater the
lisplay of God's power in subduing
hem; and the greater your unworthi
iess, the greater ls grace in saving
It were a desolate thing, Indeed, to
'orbid the love of Earth, If ther'e were
iothing to fill the vacant space in the
eart. Bunt it is just for this purpose,
hat a sublimer affection may find room
hat the lower Is to be expelled.
Peter McKenzie's ad vice is good:
'If you have a greedy dispositiont, amnd
he devil comes to you when you are in
he act of giving, and tells you, 'You
ain't afford it,' say tQ him, '.If you don't
teep quiet I'll double it,' and he'll
oon give It uip."
in the Christian wvarf'are to maintain
ho confiet is to gain the victory. Th'le
romlse Is made to him thtat endu tres to
he end. The object of our spiritual
tdversaries is to prevent tis. Every
lay which wve atre p resor vedl from go
nig back they sustaln a defeat.
Th'le smallest motion js of importance
n nature. The wvhole substance of thte
aea moves when we throw in a pebble.
so in the life of grace, thte must trifling
tettoat has a bearing in its consequences
ipon tihe wvt.ole.. E verythiing then is
We are told of St. Augustine, that,
mn one occasion, whben contemplating
he dloctrineo of . the Trinity, he was
Aalking by the sea and saw a ohild fil-.
ing a shell with the water, and pour
nit linto a hollow in the sand. He
ad:"What are you doing my boy
lth that wvater ?" To whIch the chil
~eplied : "I am going to put all the sea
ato this hole." Whien a voice seemed
o say to jaim:i "And thou, too, art do
Lng the like in thinking to comprehendi
he depthr' of God in the narrow limits
>f thy finite mind."
The excessive pressing of religious
rnen into public notice,- which charac
terlzes the present day, Is only an other
sign of the spiritual poverty of the
limes. No eagle pinions at present soar
In our firmament, hence thiem smaller
birds, time minds of inferior cast, hav
ing no living standard by whiieh to dis
cern their own littleness, are embolden
od to regard their own modieup of tal
ents and endowmpents as an ovrdence'of
i divine vocation to great ggl~ exalted
things. Happy Woldit be fr Zion
were that vain ac ~tt, Which is not
of God but of the world, copfiabd to the.
world itself, and hot obtru44p withis
her sacred inol#iptres."
Notbipg, really speed( why9h is nog
based uponpreality ; sham, Ip, a large
sense, is never sugoessftd;l ii the -life
of the individul,a'lin th nM. re ooita
prehensive life of the Sitte 1tett
|b mthing, ab) poWortk ey hIg
do~ags'n~eci 1l4ta '