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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., NOVEMBER 6, 1879. VOL. 111.-NO. 120.
A DOUBTING HEART.
Where are the swallows fled ?
Frozen and dead,
Porchanco upon some bleak and stormy shore.
0 doubting heart I
Far ovor purple seas,
They wait in sunny ease,
The balmy southern breozo,
To bring them to their northern homes onco
Why must the flowers dio ?
Prison'd they lie
In the cold tomb, headless of tears or rain.
0 doubting heart I
They only *loep below
The soft whito ermine snow,
While winter winds shall blow,
To breatho and smile upon you soon again.
The sun has hid its rays
Those many days
Will dreary hours never leave the earth ?
0 doubting heart ?
The stormy clouds on high
Voil the same sunny sky,
That soon (for spring is nigh)
hall wake the summer into golden mirth.
Fair hope is ,aIal, and light
IB quenoh'd in night.
What sound can break the silence of dospair ?
0 doubting heart I
The sky Is overcast,
Yet stars shall rise at last,
lrightor for darkness past,
And angels' silver voices stir the air.
THE HEAVY BURDEN.
"Ra111ther a heavy burden, isn't it, my
Clarence Spencer, to whomn the words had
been addressed, turned fromt the ledgor, and
looked towards the speaker. Clarence was
a young nian--not more than five and
t wenty-and ho was book-keeper to Mr.
Solomon Wardle, a pleasant-face, keen
eyed muan of fifty, who had spoken.
"A heavy burden, isn't Clarence ?" tho.
And still the young man was silent. Ilis
looks indicated that he (lid not conpre
hend. Ile had been for sonie time hending
over the ledger, with his thoughts far away;
and that his thoughts wero not pleastant
ones, was evident enough from the glooi
on his handsome face.
"IMy dear boy, the burden is not only
heavy now, but it will grow heavier and
heavier the longer you carry it."
''Mr. Wardle, I do not coinprohond you."
"Ali, Clarence I"
"I certainly no not."
. "Didn't I call at your house for you this
Clarence nodded assent.
"And didn't I see and hear enough to re
veal to nle the burden that you took with
you when you left? You niust remember, my
boy, that I am older than you are, and that
I have been through the mill. You find
your burdun heavy; and I've no doubt that
Sarah's heart is as heavily laden as your
And then .Clarence Spencer understood;
and the morning's scene was present with
him, as it had been present with him since
leaving home. On that morning he had a
dispute with his wife. It had occurred at
the breakfast table. There is no need of
reproducing the scene. Suffico it to say
that it had como of a mere nothing, and
had grown a causo of anger. The first had
been a look and a tone; then a flash of un
patience; then a rising of the voice ; then
another look ; the voice grew higher; the
reason was unhinged ; passion gained sway
and the twain lost sight of the wvarmn, en
(luring love that lay smitten and aching
down deep in their hearts, and felt for the
tine only the passihig tornmado. And Clar
cnce remembered that Mr. Wardlo had en
tered the house and caught a sight of t.he
And Clarence Spencer thought of one
thmng more; he thought how milserably un
happy lie had beeni all the morning ; and lie
knew not how long his burden of uinhap
piness was to 1)e borne.
"Honestly, Clarence, Isn't It a heavy and
thankless burdeni ?"
Thelm book-keeper knew that his employer
was his friend, and that lie was a true-heart
edi Christian man ; and1, aftei pause, lie an
swered: "Yes. Mr. Wardle, it is a heavy
"My boy, I am going to venture upon a
hit of fatherly counsel. I hope I shall not
"Not at all," said Olarenco. iIe winced
a little, as though the probing gave him
"Ini the first place," pursued the 01(d man,
with a quiver of emotion in his voice, "yeou
lo,ve your wvife?"
"Love her?9 Yes, passionately.".
"And do you think she loves you in re
"I dlon't think anything about it-I
"You know she loves you?"
"Then you must admnit that the trouble
of this morning came from no Ill-feeling at
*"Of course not."
"It was but a suirfaco-squall, which~ yeou,
at least, are very sorry?"
A moment's liesitation, and then-"'Yes,
yes; I am hieartIly sdrry."
"Now mark me, Clarence, andI snower
*honestly :M-Don't you think your wife is as
*sorry as you are I"
"I cannot doUhbt It." -
"Andl don't you think she Is suffering all
this time ? "
"Very well. Let that pass. You know
she la bearing her part of the burden t'"
"Yes, I finow that."
whee he eales prtof this burden Is
wl:oqedtu hdo intcomegou
"If the storm had ali blown over, and
you knew that the sun woulId shinle when,
you n1ext entered your homle, you would no.
feel 80 unhappy ?"
"But," continued Mr. Wardle, "your
fear that ther will be gloom, In your home
whenl you retirn ?"
The young man bowed his lewl aq hie re
piled in the a1ratve
"Because," the mnerchamt added, with aI
touch of parental sternIness in his tone,
"you are resolved to carry it there "
Clarence looked ill) in surprise.
"1-i carry it ?"
"Aye; you have the burdeon in your
heart, and you nean to carry it home. Re
membaer, my boy, I have been there, and I
know aill about It. I have been very foolish
in my lifetime, and I have suffered. I suf
fered until 1 discovered my folly, and then
I resolved that I would sulrer no more.
Upon looking the mal t(, squarely and
honestly in the face, I found that the bur
dens which had so galled mne had been self
imposed. Of course such burdens can be
thrown off. Now you have resolved that
you will go home to dinner with a heavy
heart and a (lark face. You have no hope
that your wife will meet you with a smile.
And why I Because you know that she
has no particular cause for smiling. You
know that her heart is burdened with the
afiliction which gives you so much unrest.
And you are fully assured that you are to
find your honc shrouded in gloom. And,
furthermore, you don't know when that
gloom will depart and when the blessed
sun-shine of love will burst in again. And
why don't you know? Because It is not
now in your hoart to sweep the cloud away.
You say to yourself, 'I can bear it as long
as she can I" Am I not right ?"
Clarence did not answer in words.
"I know I an right," pursued the ner
chant; "and very likely your wife is saying
to herself tile salne thing. So you hope of
sunshine does not rest upon the willingness
to forgive, but upon the inability to bear
the burden. By-and-by it will happen, as
It has haDpened before, that one of the
twain will surrender from exhaustion; and
it, will be likely to be the weakei party.
Then there will be a collapse, and a recon
ciliation. Generally the wife fails first be
neath the galling burden, because her love
is keenest and most sensitive. The hus
band, in such case, acts the part of a cow
ard. Wheni he might, with a breath, blow
the cloud away, the cringes and cowers unl
til his wife is sorced to let the sun-light in
through her breaking heart."
Clarence listenea, ana was troubled. Ile
saw the truth, felt its weight. iIe was not
a fool, nor was lie a liar. During the silence
that followed lie reflected upon the past,
andl he called to his mind scenes Just as
Mr. Wardle had depicted. And this brought
him to the remembrance of how lie had seen
his wife weep when she had failed and sank
beneath the heavy burden, how often she
had sobbed upon his bosom in grief for the
The nerchant read the young man's
thoughts, and after a time lo rose and
touched him upon the arm.
"Clarence, suppose you were to put on
your hat and go home now. Suppose you
should think, on your way, only of the
love and blessing that mnight he; with this
thouaght, you should enter your abode with
a smile upon your face ; and you should put
your arms around your wvife's neck, and
kiss her, and softly say to her, "My darling,
I have come home to throw downi thme bur
den I took away with mec this morning. It
is greater than I can bear." Suppose you
were to (10 this, would your wife repulse
"Alh, any boy, you echo mny wordls with
an amazement which shows that you un
derstand me. Now, sIr, have you the cour
ago to try the experiment I" D)are you to
be so mnuch of a anul Or dlo you fear to
let your dear wife knowv how much you
love lier? D)o you fear she would respect
and1 esteem you less for the deed?i Tell mne
--do you think the cloud of unhappinmess
might thus be banished ? Oh, Clarence, if
you would but try it I" -
tSarah 80cncer had finished her work mi
the kitchen, and in the bed-chamilgr, and
sat down with her work In her lap. lBut
she could not ply her needle. 11er heart
was heavy and sadl, andi tears were In her
Presently she heard the front door Opeln,
and a step in the -passage. Certalily she
knew that step I Yes-her hausbanad enter
ed and a smile upon his face. She saw it
through her gathering tears, andh her heavy
heart leaped up. He caine and put his armis
around hli' neck, and kissed her ; and lie
said to her, In broken accents, "Darling,
I have come home to throw down the hbur
den I took away with me this morning. It
is greater than I cani bear."
And she, trying to speak, pillowed her
head upon~ his bosom and sobbed and wept
hike a child. Olaf could lie forgivo her?9
NIls comnlg wIth the blessed offering had
thrown the burden of reproach back upon
himself. She saw him noble and generous,
and shte worshiped him.
But Clarence would not allow her to take
all the blame. lie must ehiare that.'
"We will share' it so evenly," said lhe,
'9hat its weight shahl be felt nio more. And
now any darling we will be happy!I"
Mr. Wardle had no need, when Clarence
retm'nedi to,the counting-house, to ask the
'esult. Hie ceould read it in the yetmng man's
brimming eyes, -.ad in ~4 np red
It was yer attdr t400
to the events of that gloomy morining.
'Ah I" said Clarence, with a swelling ho
SOM) "that WAs thU most blessedR lesson I
ever received. My wife knows who gave
it to me."
"'And it serves you yet, my boy?"
"Aye, and it will serve us while we live.
We have none of those old burdens of an
ger to bear now. They cannot find lodg:
ment with us. The lash and jar may comlie
as i the other days-for we are human,
you know-but the heart, which has firmly
resolved not to give an abidng place to the
ill feeling, will not be called upon to enter
tait it. Sometimes we are foolish; but we
laugh at our folly when we see it, and
throw it off ; we do not nurse It till it be
comes a burden.
First Look fi st Mirror.
The effeet which the sudden1 seeing
of themselves as other. sue then had
upon several Siamese women is nar
rated by a lady: A few weeks ago,
a couple of SIamese women came to see
and to look at my house. They con
Hider It a great treat to look at imy
house. They consider it a greater treat
if I invite them them through my
rooms, and let them look at my bed,
my table, my chairs, my pictures and
my nick-nacks, and espeelally If they
can get a look at themselves in the
mirror on my bureau. One or two of
those who came had been there before,
and they were telling of how they
looked in the glass till the others were
all anxious to see too, so they gathered
In a crowd and stood before the lirror.
One quick look, and then a surprised,
startled cry, and some of them hild
their faces, others jumped away, and
some looked about to see who was
really there.' They had never seen
themselves before, and did not know
how miserably they looked with their
black teeth and naked bodies. They
drew their scarfe over their breasts and
tried to hide fromn the sight of them
selves. One turned and said to me:
"We are very hateful looking, don't
you think so?" I did not tell them I
had always thought so, but I said:
"Now, sinco you know how you look,
Is it any wonder that we tell you to
wear more clothes and to quit chewing
betel?" Some of them woul(l not be
induced to look the second tIme, while
others stood and looked.
"Frederick Schmindt," said the Jus
tice to a sj.eepy looking fellow,."you
are lined $10 for intoxication. But
what's the matter my friend, you ap
pear to be on the point of crying?''
"Nodings, 8hudge, I was only dink
"Thinking? of what?"
"Vell, I'll spoke of it, If you told me
"Then I do tell you."
"I vas dinking, Shuilgo, dot you vas
me und I vas you. Dot ish you know,
mitout no change. You vas der poor
Dutchman. I saw you come In mitout
friends und sorrowful, und I say,
"Schmidt, vat vas dose trubbles?" und
you spoke out, "Sbudge I to'ok me
some leetle peer." Und I say mit a
look on your face, "Schmidt, you vas
marrIed ?" You say, "Yah," "Und
got some childer ?" "Yahi," "Und you
don't yas so trunk as you can't valk ?"
"Nein." "Vell, Schmidt you go right
avay home.'' Und dot yas my dinkin."
"T1hose are very pleasant thoughts,"
said the magistrate in good humor. "I
thmnk we'll make the fine $3, but I
can't let you off altogether."
"D)reo dollar I Veil I paid it und vas
dankful; but you vas not so good a
Shudge mit mec as I vas mit you."
And rousing himself lhe waddled out
Not a Bad floy.
A bright-looking boy, twelve years old,
who saidl his name was Tommy McEvoy,
wvent alone into the Jeffersoin Market Po
lice Court, New York, recently, and saidi to
'.Judge, your HIonor, I want to give my
"Why, my boy ?" asked the Court.
"Because,'' said the lad, I hain't got no
home and dlon't want to live In the street
and become a bad boy."
"Why don't you stay at home ?" askod
"I ain't got no homno. Father has been
dead1( nine years, and mother died before
"But where have you been living
"With my aunt. She lives on Forty
first street. But she gets drunk, anid won't
let me stay in dloors. Tre-day she chased
mne,and said if I over came back sheo would
(10 something awful wIth mne. I'mi afraid
of lier, and so I've got no0 home. Nobody
will take nme in because I hiain't got good
clothes amid don't look nice. I can't get
anlything to eat unless I beg or steal it. I
don't want to steal or be a bad boy. Won't
you please send mo somewhere wheore I
can learn something and get to be a man t"
Trho Justice told the boy there were such
places, for good boys, and taking the lIttle
follow under his protection, p)romised to
find h11i hiome ini some good instItution.
A Slia:ht Mistake.
A man ordered a most elaborate dinner at
a restaurant which lhe enjoyed and praised
much-after which lie lIghted a cigar, and
sauntering up to the landlord, declared his
inabIlity to pay' for it.
"But I don't know you," said Bonifaco.
"Of course, ryuwudnthv ie
mec a dinner.' ryuwudnthv ie
The enraged man seized the pIstol, col..
lared the~ offender,- and taking aIm at his
firm sa ihot paig for that uiner"
'WI~j~Iatlin yur hiand?"i gasped
th~ f~euift cat tn drawing back.
s Ta~ ii is a
~'h hta a pso,is it X doni carq,
ise;I tho ight it wua,) atoem
The Wrlters of tho fable.
Mo4es wrote (1enmsis, ilXodls, 1e(Vit
ius, Nuimbers and i)euteronom1y.
Joshua, Phiineahas or Eleazer wrote
tle book o' Joshua.
Samuel i the penan of the books of
.1tidges and Ruth. lie also wrote the
first acts of )avld aml probably,
Natihan and Gald wrote his last, acts;
and the whole was foriled in1to two
books, which were naned after Samuel
as the most, eulmient person, called the
first and second books o' Saimuel.
Jeremiah probably complied the two
books of the Kings.
Ezra coilied the two books of the
Chronilcles. lie is also author of the
book henrimg his nmie.
Nehemiah wrote Nehemniah.
The author o' the book o1' J'tler ia
EIlihu was most probably the neinan
of the book of Job. Moses may have
written tihe flirst, two chapters and tihe
last. Some think Job wrote them hiim
David wrote moit of the book of the
Pslitis. Asaph Ienned a few of them.
Solomon wrote Proverbs, Teclesiast
us, and tihe Songs of Solomon.
Isaiah Is the aiuthor of tihe Irophecy
Jeremiah wrote the book bearing his
name, and the Lamentations of Fere
Ezeki 1, Daniel, losea, Joel, Amos
Obadiah, probably Jonah, Micai, Na
hium. Ilabakuk, Zephaniah, Haggal,
Zachariah, wrote the books of the
prophesies, bearing their respective
Matthew, Mark, Luke and John
wrote the Gospels named after them.
Luke wrote the Acts of tile A postles.
Paul Is the author of the Epistles to
the Romans, Corinthians, Galatians,
Ephesians, Phillipplans, Colossians,
Thessalonians, Timothy, Titts, Phille
mion and iHebrews.
James the son of Alphets, who was
cousn-Geriman to Christ, and one of
the apostles, wrote the Epistle of James.
Peter wrote the Epistle bearing his
The apostle John wrote the three
Epistles of John.
Jude, the Apostle, the brother of
James, also called Lebbems, whose
surname was Thaddeus, near relative
of our Lord, wrote tile Epistle of Jude.
St. John, the Diyine wrote Revela
The Late Queen of Holland,
Sidney Hyde gives the following ac
co0nt of his first visit to the late Queen
of H1olland. Upon our fir at formal
audience we were received in one of
the State Departments, a fine salon,
lung with rose-colored satin and gay
with gilded furniture and wax candles;
but when we were asked "to tea," it
was in her own. private parlor that tile
Queen entertained us, a charmIng
great room, with tropical plants grow
Ing in the windows, and a grand piano
at one end. Books and ornaments were
scattered about, and cabinets of curiosi
ties stood againat the wall; easy-chairs
aikd little tables went wandering com
fortably about the floor; and a general
air of homn-likeness perivadecl the spa
cIous apartment, whose walls were
hung with interesting pictures, 11110ed
with associatOons to tile studentL of his
One evening, when we arrived, we
found the Queen ireading Kinglako's
"Invasion of tile Crinica," in which
she was greatly initerested. His dIra
matic characterizationis pleased her
particularly, and above all the hits at
her late unelo, Nicholas of Russia, whio
as the writeir observes, tried hard to be
a genitlemanl; but underneath all his
superficial polish still lay the "gypsy
Instinct," which prompted him on
occasion to do some mean act.
Iiispired by our interest,theQueen drif t
ed into various personal recollections
of her visit to Napoleon III., and re
latedh a little anecdote of the Prince
imperial when lie was about six years
old. It seems that the Emperor hiad a
troop of boys of the Pirince's age uii(er
drill, and the Prince himself wvas one
of the regiment; and one dlay, when
the Queen was quesloning him lightly
as to what lie meanit to do its the. world,
he replied bravely, in true Napoleonic
fashion, "Madame, I shall be a sot
(ier." "1uta you are so littl~e," said hler
Majesty, "they cannot make you an of
fleer ; you will have to be a private al
ways." "Pardon, madame," eak(i tile
little follow, making a military salute,
"Je suile deja caporal." T1he Empress
of the Fronoh IIer Majesty thought
a wromani of excellent parts, but over
whelmed with all sorts ot frivolties
out,side of herself. "There ls so mueh
to -do," said the Queen naively, "I
wonder how she ever gets through is
all. It was one tumult from morning
till night. I could not have endtered
it." At Osborne, whlere she visited
Queen Victoria, she was oppressed by
the dullness and formality. She
thought the Queen of England a per
son of extraordinary informiation, but
the slavery of etiquette w'hleh sur
rouinded her was unendurable. FJrom
tIse very slavery it 'was the desire of
the Queen of Courcaniale to deliver her
self, and her ownl life was one of vig
orouui action and intelligent effort. She
rose daily at seven ; walked, wrote, and
read at fixed hours, corrosponding with
baitf the savants of Europe on matters
of lIterary and sciontiflo inter4st.: 8110
drew aroutnd her~ all the intllectual
people' of her court, accostinig 'thiom
with4ut formality or preted4tn, nr4r
z otighoie ojoylng their different
frankly to expresr,. She was a warm
friend of th e jnglish ; her best. friends
were English wome. She st)oke the
language with absolute perfection and
VitlIout aecen t, and was the iIIstress of
six other tongues. Our American war
was a serious puzzlo to her. Site was
as kind as possible in her sympathy,
but still 1a4hn1itted Openly liat the
breaking II) of otir Republic would ble
no cause of grief to tite royal families
in 1turope. "You are so strong," sie
said ruefully, and she shared tie com
11on1 Eurovean dolusion that the cause
of the South was the cause of aristoc
Tit 01d Famidoned Girl.
She llourished tbirty or forty years
ago. She was a little girl until she
was fifteen. Site used to help her
mother waihl the dishes and keep tite
kitchen tidy, and site had an ambition
to mak pies slo nicely that papa
could not toll tile dillerence between
them and mmmIIIIa's, ankd yet sh1e could
try grindle cakes at tenl years of age,
and darn her own stockings before sh
was twelve, to say nothing of knitting
Sh11 had her hours of play and en
joyed horsolf to the fullest extent. She
had no very costly toys to be sure, but
hter rag doll and little bureau and
chair that Uncle Tom Made were inst
as valuable to her 11a tile $20 wax doll
and elegant doll furniture the children
She never said "1 can't," and "I
don't want to," to her mother, when
asked to leave ier play, and run up
stairs or down or onl an errand, be
cause she had not been brought II) in
that way. Obedience was a cardinal
virtue In the old fashioned little girl.
Sile rose in tihe mornmig when she
was called, and went out Into tile
gar den anMd saw the dew on the grass,
and If sie lived in the country site fed
the chickens an(] hunted up the eggs
We do not suppose she hadI her hair
iII curl papers or crimplug-pins, or had
it "banged" over her 'orehead and her
flounces were no trouble to her.
She learned to sew by making patch
work, and we dare say site could do nit
"'over-and-over" scan as well as nine
tenths of the grown-up women now-a
The old-fashioned litle girl did not
grow into a young lady and talk about
beaux before sile was in i-r teens, and
site did not read dime novels, and was
not fancying a lero In every plow-boy
Site learned the solid accomplish
nients as sihe grew up. Site was taught
the arts of cooking and housekeeping.
When site got a husband she knew how
to cook him a dinner.
Sie wias not learned iII French verbs
or Latin declensions, and her near
neighbors were spared tile agony of
hearing her pound out "Tihe Mal.len's
Prayer" and "SIlver Threads among
tihe Gold" twenty tines a (lay on the
pilano, but we have no doubt she made
her company quite as comfortable as
the modern young lady does hers.
It may be a vulger assertion, and we
su1ppose thtat we are not exactly upi
with thte times, but we honestly be
lIeve andl our op1n)o 30)Is based on con
siderable experIence, andI no sm)al
opp)ortnnity for observation, and whienl
it comes to keeping a famIly hlappy, a
good cook and( housekeerer Is to be
greatly p)referred above an accomplish
ed scholar. When both sets of qual.ties
are f ound together, as they sometimes
are, tihen Is tihe hlouseholdb over which
sumcih a womlan has control blessed.
The old-fashlioned lIttle girl wvas
mvodest In her dlemeantor, and site never
talked slang or used by-words. Sihe
did not laugih at 0old people or make
fun of cripples, as wo sawv somte
mtoderni little girls doIng the other day.
She hmad resp)ect for elders and was not
above lIstening to wordls of counsel
from thtose oldeOr thian hterself.
She did not thtink ilhe knewv as much01
as mother, and thtat hter judgement was
as good as grand mothler's.
Sihe (lid not go to parties by the tite
shle was ten, and stay till after mid..
nighzt playintg elucitor and dancIng wlih
any chance young mtan who htappenled
to be present.
Size went to bed in season and doubt
less saId her prayers before she went,
and slept the sleep of Innocence, andl
rose up ini the morninig happy antd
capable of givIng htappiness.
And If there be an,oild fasioned lIttle
girl In thte wvorld to-day, may heaven
bless hter anld keep lhen, and raise uip
others like her.
A Dutiful husband.
There is at Moscow, a blacksmith,
named Jordar, who marrIed a Russian
woman. After Bite had livedl 8som1
time with her husband, site one day
thlus loyingly addressed him: "Why Is
it my dearest hutsband, that you do not
love me ?" Tihe husband replied : "I
do love fou passionately." "I have as
yet," said site, "received no proof of
your love." Tihe husband .tquired
what proofs site desired. Her reply
was, "You have never beaten meoI"
"Really," said tile husband, "I did net
know that blows weore proofs of love;
however, I wvill noet even fail In this
respept." And so not lonk after Ihe
beat her mnost cruelly, and confessed
to-me that after tha'~t process his wife
sh*wed himn much greater af'ection3.
No 4.e repeated tile e%ercise frequtently ;
And fAlly, while I was still at Mos.
ow out og her head adri her le~e
111uentisg for a 1old.
A i aecdot- of Moore, the Irish
poet, shows how much pains a writer
who does good work will take to put
the right word in the right place.
Aloore was on a visit to a literary
friend in France, and while there wrote
a short poe)).
One day W1bile the guest was engaged
n his literary labor, the two took a
stroll inl the adjacent wood, and the
host soon perceived that, his companion
was given up to his own. thoughts; he
was silent and abstracted, noticing
neither his friend and entertainor norl
the surrounding beauties of the land
By-and-by hie began to gnaw the til
ger-tips of his glove, pulling and twitch
Ing spasmodically, and when this had
gone on for a long time, his friend ven
tured to ask him what was tile trouble.
"I'll tell you," said Moore. "I havO
left. at home upon miy table a poemn inl
which Is a word I do' not like. The
line Is perfect save that one word, and
that word is perfect save Its lullcution.
Thus it is," and lie repeated tile line
and asked his triend if ito could help
it wais a delicate point. ie friend
saw the need, saw where and how the
present word jarred just, the sliglhesi
possible bit upon the exquisite hIaurmony
of the cadence; but lie could not stip
ply the walt...
The twaiin cudgeled their bralns unll
til they reached the house on their re
turn without avall.
The rest of the daly was spent. ats usuiall
as was the evening, save that over anon
Moore would sink into silent tits in
pursuIt ol the absent word. And so
Came oil tle a1ght, and tie poet wont
to bed in a deep study.
Tile following morning was brIght
and beautiful, and Moore cattne down
from his chamber witht a bouiig step
with a scraip of paper ill Ills hand, and
a glorious light iII his geitil counte
The word had come to him I ile was
awakened during the mlight, and the
kind genius of inspiration lad visited
his pillo.w, and he0 had got up aniHd torn
a scrap from Ills note-book, and at the
wiadow, by the light of the mnoon, had
made the thought scoure.
"There," lie said,when lie had Incor
porated it Into the text; "there it is
only a simple, single word, a word as
common as a. b. o., and yet it cost mue
twelve hours of itunlagging labor to 111ind
It and put It where it is. W ho could
That Awf71t Satcholl.
As the Charlotte train sleamed Into
the depot, a lady ran out I n tht, crowd
Ill all excited manner inquthlng for an
offleor. From her anxiety IL would
scom as If the whole police force was
Indispensable Just at that tine and at
that precise part of the world. Detcc
tive Kavanagh was by the lady's side
In a mloment, but it was a lo'Ig tie be
fore lie could glean from her wild ex..
presslons Just uhat was the matter.
At last lie leaured that shte had come
Ip on the hiarlotte train, anid had
takean her satchel and gonec into the
Falls tralin. She left It onl the seat and1(
stepped f romi the cars to get some
luincha. When she ret.urned to the ears
hr r ownl satchel was misisinmg anad anm
"o0l( nauasty'' valIse left Instead. Kay
aniagh Immediately went to work to set
matter's aighut, and enteriing the car
the laidy p)oiut.ed out to him the place
where she had left her satchel and the
one0 that hlad been sulbstliuted for it.
Then KCavanagh looked in the niext
seat andt there saw aniothmer satchel.
"'Madam," said he to the lady, "per
hiaps tils Is the ark that COntalius the
worldly nleessities of your-railroad
journey through life,'' and1 lie held It
up between the~ thumilb amnd forefinger
of his tiny right hand. (Kavanagh
can wvear P'erinot's number :1.)
TihenJ the laidy 's faco became aplerfect
rainbow of colors ; she blushed like a
summer rose, and)1 lammedlately grew
white as sniow; her eyes opened
wilde In astonilshmment; she tried1 to
spea1k but couldn't; at last she said:
"i-I.--I-be--be-Ileve, 1 (10 (Ic-do
-elaw ti-at weally is 1m1ne1."
Then Kavanagh politely took oftf his
centennIal straw hat and bowed him
Theli truth was as obtainied by one of
our repor ters In a subsequen t intervie w
that tile lady wvent to thle wrong seat
oin re-enterIng the car, and wishing to
procure a hand kerchief from the satch
el-she thouighs was lhers-op)enedl It
anid there a sight met her bewildered
gaze that would scare a phalanx of the
weaker sex. Th'ie first thhIg that met
hler eye 'was the general Conlfusion of
the contents, whlech was proof posItive
that t,he owner was not of the feminine
gender. Then there appeared to view
a shavIng cup, a piece of soap, an old
clay pipe and a pair of bifurcated gar
ments wrapped around a paper box.
No further investigation was necessary
to conlulce the feminIne mind that the
"hawred contents dId not belong to
her." No wonder she sought the pro
tection of the police, No wvondler Kay
anlagh bluashed for the first time in his
life, and would have been run over by
the second Atlrantic express If the Ves,
uvlous had not lifted him ten feet in
tihe air with an~ octagonal basso pro'
fundo of "L-o-o-k-e.e- out thiar I"
Timber continually Oe pse( 1to 1110
tul'o is foud to rqai Vorryjg
period its orAgin *roaith.
with hnoisuro Is exttspielJu u~;~
lerI-ts are the great resort of aililet
ed farmers in England. Some men
make a regular 'business going round
with them and giving rat infested
htouses a "run" in conal-leration of the
payment of a ten dollar bill. The fer
rets are rather expensive creatures,
costing about thirty dollars a pair.
They aire so long and 1im1n and supple
that they can almost tie their own bod
les in a knot and be crawling out of it
again at one end before the knot at the
other end Im completed. A medium
sized anger hole can be utilized by
them with case, the only trouble being
that the auger hole is apt to be stralgt
and the ferrets used to doubling up and
arching their backs and going through
all sorts of strange convulsions with
their bodies-as though to show off
their gracetul curves-would feel quite
lost in having to keep their straight
natural position, even though for .the
spice of one secfand. They are never
still a minute, except, perhaps, when
they sleep, and then, like their nearest
cousin the weasel, they are apt to sleep
with their eyes open. Their life Is one
of continuous and constant activity.
When they are not crawling into rat
holes at the bidding of an inexorable
master, they are at home in- cages,
where they run to and fro like penned
up lions. Often the ferret is seon with
scratches on his nose or lacerations on
the neck. These are the little remei
bratices of his encounters with his
natural enemy, the rat. The rat will
not fight a ferret when lie can get
away. The largest rat. will run fron
them. They can smell theR long be
fore they can see them, and that Is the
signal for thou to fly or remaIn and
(lie a subterranean and ignoble death.
Young rats In nests are at the ferrets
mercy, and the ferrets are not slow to
show them such mercy as their oraving
stomachs af'ord. They do not eat the
lesh. They Insert their teeth and,
weazle-likes suck all the blood out of
tchir bodies, then leave them. This Is
tihe great point ferret men imake over
the modern style of getting rid of rats
by poison. They cry down the poison
system and declare that by killing rats
in that manner, life in a house about
which the r'ats perish is rendered al
most intolerable by the stmich their do
caying carcasses create. By killing
them with ferrets this is avoided, they
claivi, foi the latter take all the blood
from them and the carcasses, insteadof
decaying, dry up. After-all, the ferrets
are doing more than is generally
expected of them when they~kIll grown
rats. Their principal tiso is to drive
the vorminlt from their holee up to the
light of day, where Scotch terriers and
nets and clubs in the hand. of the for
rets' masters do the rest.
Through a Trap Door.
The proprietor of a store on W
street was looking out upon the rain
be-drizzled streets and figuring that
lie wouldn't make a cent during the
wholo afternoon, when a hard-up look
ing stranger wet to the hide, walked
softly in and took a seat ii a chalr.
"Anything to duy?" asked the mer
Th'ie answver was a Ionecsomie shaake of
"Bad weather to day."
Another weary shake replIed.
After flve minutes of silence, the
straniger got tup and1( begani walking the
store. TIhe trap door leadinig to the
basement was tup, and in one of Ils
turns lie wvent dlowni out of sight like a
bag of shot. The merchant called out
when it was too late and he ran to the
traip and peered down the dark stairs
with the expootion of seeing a corpse
on the cellar bottom. Instead of that
the strange man appeared on the stairs
and ascended wilthout help. -iIe was
covered with dust fromn hied to foot
and his coat split up the back, and the
merchant hastened to say:
"I am very sorry, Indeed. f forgot
the trap-are you much hurt?"
"My frIend," replied the stranger as
he turned around and extended his
hand, "you have -been the means of -
saving me I Shake hands with meo!"
Th'ie merchant thought the tall. had
made a lunatic, but lie shook and the
man went on: "Five minutes ago I was
half drunk and desperate. I had
about made up my mind to murder
some one and then jump into the river.
That fall hias glvent me newv and better
ideas. From this hour I am a new man,
with a better life before me! - Shake
"Ah--ycs-vory strange," 4tam,inr.
od the merchant as he shook, and tlie
stranger said as he stood in the do6r~
"J thank you from the bottom of i
heart for leaving that trap open! Wife -2
and children shall bless your name and
I can never forget yoti!- Good--bye, oir
-ten thousand blessIngs--Ieaven keep
you i n its carer'u
Th'fe merchant puzzled over tihe s
for a long time and then wentNoewk
the cellar and-found evidences-iti
stranger had ecoolly jumiped db*n'
rolled in tihe dtust, add duWii th~
moment secured abme t 1114 p
dozen pooket kulyes ami 4 apg o~
of gloves, Then~ there aws'tq
- Aaasr is -r'etidered 6"QU,Y
ru)bbinlg or ibarshing It
of crying oils and'ahft.tt
(1 -ein e