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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBOlO, S. C., NOVEMBER 18, 1879. VOL. II.-NO. 125.
My feet are wearied, and my hands aro tired
My soul oppressed ;
And with desire have I long desirod,
'Tie hard to toil. when til is almost vain,
In barren ways ;
'Tis hard to sow, and never garner graii
In harvest days.
The birdeni of my dia i is hard to b ar.
But God knows best ;
Aul I have prayedbut vain has been iny prayer
For rest-sweet rest.
Tia hard to plat-t in spring, and never reap
The autumia yield
'Tis hard to till, and whon 't-s tilled to weep
O'er fruitless field.
And so I ory, a weak and human ery,
So heart-opprossed ;
And so I sigh, a weak and human sigh,
For rest-for rest.
My way has wound across the desert years,
And cares infest
3My path; and through thd flowing of hot toa 0
I pine for rest.
'Twos always so, when still a child I laid
On mother's breast
3My wearied little head; o'en then I prayed
As now, for rest.
A nl I am roetless still ;'twill soon be o'er
For, down the West,
Ufa's sun in setting, and I see the shore
Where I shall rest.
Arthur Morton sat in a room in his ho
tel. le wias a young man, six and twenty,
tall and slin frame, with a face of great
intellectual beauty, dressed in costly gar
ments, though his toilet was but indifferent
As the youth sat thus, his door Was open
ed, and an elderly gentleman entered.
"Ai, doctor, you aro moving early this
morning," said Morton, as he lazily rose
from his seat and extended his hand.
"Oh, not early for me, Arthur," returned
Weston, with a bright smile. "I am an
"Well, have you caught a worn this
"I hope it will prove a valuable one."
"1 don't know," sighed the youLh. "I
fear a thousand worms will inherit this poor
body era long."
"Nonsense, you're worth half a century
yet," cried the doctor, giving him a gentle
slap on the shoulder. "But Just tell me,
Arthur, how is it with Crosby I"
"Just as I told you. All is gone."
"I don't understand it, Arthur."
"Neither do, I," said the young man,
sorrowfully. "That Matthew Crosby could
have done that thing, 1 would not, could
not, have believed. Why, had an angel ap
peared to me two weeks ago, aud told me
that Crosby.was shaky, I would not have
paid a moment's atteition to It. But only
think, when my father died, he selected
for my guardian his best friend, and such I
even now believe Matthew Crosby was, and
in his hands hie placed his wealth, left for
him to keep until I was of age. And when
I did arrive at that period of life my money
where It was; I had no use for it. .Several
times within threo or four years has Crosby
asked me to take my money and invest it,
but I would not. I bade him keep it, and
use it, if he wished. I only asked that
when I wanted money he would honor my
demand. I felt more safe, in fact, than I
should have felt had my money been In a
bank on deposit."
"How much had he when he left I'
"le should have had $100,000."
"What do you mean to do'?"
"Ah, you have me on the hip there."
"And yet you must do something, my
son. Iheaven knows I would keep you if
1 could, I shall claim the privilege of pay..
ig your debts, however."
"No, no-doctor-none of that."
"But I tell you I shall. I shall pay your
diebts, but beyond that I can only help you
to assist yourself. What do you say to go
-ing to sea?"
Afaint smIle swept over the youth's pale
features at this remark.
"I should make a smart hand at sea, doc
tor. I can hardly keep m'y legs on shore.
No, no, I must-"
"Must what, Arthur U'
"Alas, I know not. I shall diethat is
- "Nonsense, Arthur, I say, go to sea.
You couldn't go into a shop, and you would
niot if you could. You do not wish to ro
main here, amid the scenes of your bappier
dlaya. Think of ite-at sea you would be
free from all sneers of the heartless, and
free from all contact with things you loath.
Think of it,"
"If I went to sea, what could I do ?"
"You understand all the laws of foreign
"Yes. You know I had a thorough
schooling at that in my father's counting
"Then you can obtain thie berth of a
"Are you sure I can get one ?"
9 "Dr. Weston, 1 will go."
Arthur walked home one evening to the
= house of a wealthy merchant, John Mel
b~urne. It was a palaflal dwelling,- and
many a hopeful, happy hour had he spent
* honeath Its roof. He rung the bell and was
admitted to the parlor. In a few minutes
* ~ Grace Melburrne entered. She was only
- twenty. She had been witing until that
ago to ho Arthur's wife.
Somec words were spoken and then many
minutes of painful silene ensued.
"Grace, you know all, f am going from
mny nativo land a beggar, I cannot stay hon
gor now. Grace, did Ifknow you Iess than
I(do-or knowing you well, did I know you
as 1 do many-I should gito back your
Vows anid free you from all bondpge. But I
believe i should tramuplo upon your heart
did I do that thing now. I know your
( love is too pure and deep to be torn from
your bosom at will. So I sy-wait I There
are other foolings in tihe heart besides Jove.
T(hat love Is a poor, profitless passion which
put. aside all other ceonsiderations. We
must love for eternity, an~d so our love must
'4- ibe free. Wait. I sim going to work--aye
uiponi the sea to work."
"Alas i must it be I"
- "It miust. You Will Wait?"
"Wlwait otli to the gatos of the
his own daily bread all fairly assumed.
Ai I it was a strange life for himn to enter
upon. From the ownershtip or iiiense
wealth to the trade books of a nerchant
ship was a transition indeed. bit., ere he
went on dock again, he had fully resolved
that lie would do his duty, coio whit
would, short of death. le would forget
that he ever did else but work for his live
hood. V ith these resolves clearly deteri
med in his nind. ie already felt hetter.
At first our supercargo was too weak to
do much. lie was very sick, and it lasted
nearly two weeks, but when that passed
off, and he could face the vibraLim deck
witl. a stout stomach his appetite grew
shurp, and lils inuseles began to grow
At first Ie craved soine of the miaiiy deli.
cacies he had long been used to, but they
were not to be had, and ho very oion learned
to do without them. The result wias that
his appetite became natural In its wants,
and his system began to find itself nour
ished by simple food taken In proper quan
For years lie had looked upon breakfast
as a meal which must bo set out and par
taken of from mere fashion. A cup of
coffee, and perhaps a piece of dry toast, or
a seasoned or highly spiced tidbit, had con
aituted the morning meal. But now,
when the break fast hour caie, he approach
ed it with a keen appetite, and felt as strong
and as hearty as at any other time of the
By degrees the hollow cheeks became
full, the dark eyes assumed new lustre, the
color, rich and healthful, caime to the face,
the breastswelled with increasing power,
the lungs expanded and grew strong, the
muscles became more firm and true, the
nerves grew strong, and the garments which
he had worn when he camo on board had
to be let out sonic inches In order to make
them fit. His disposition became cheerful
and bright, and by the tinie the ship had
reached the southern cape of Africa the
crew had all learned to love Iin.
Through storm and sunshine, through
tempest and calm, through dark hours and
bright, (lie young supercargo made his voy
age. In one year from the day which lie
left his native land lie placed his foot again
upon the soil of his home.
But lie did not stop. The same ship witi
the same officers, was going upon the same
cruise again, and lie meant to go in her.
He saw Grace Melburne, and she would
wait. Ile saw Dr. Weston, and the kind
old gentleman :.ralsed him for his manly
Again Arthur Morton was upon the sea,
and again he assumed the duties of his of
fice, and even more. le even stood watch
when there was no need of it, and during
seasons of storm lie claimed a post on deck.
At the end of another year the young man
returned to his home again. lie was now
eight and twenty, and few who knev him
two years before could recognize him now.
His face was bronzed by exposure, his
forn was filled out to perfection, and no
was greeted with great affection by old Dr.
Weste11, who would insist on his staying
with him during his leave on shore. One
day after Arthur's arrival, lie suddenly
burst Into the room and said abruptly:
I"'Well, Arthur, Mr. Crosby is her. Will
you see him ?"
"See hhin See Matthew Crosby? Of
course I will. IHe owes tmie an explanation,
and I hope lie can give me a satisfactory
ic door was opened and Mr. Crosby en
le was an elderly man, but halo and
The old man and the young one shook
hands, and then inquired after each other's
"You-received a note froni me sone two
years ago," said Crosby, "in which I stated
that one in whon 1 ti usted had got your
money and mine with it, and that I could
not pay you."
"Yea sir," answered cur hero, not know
ing what was to conme next.
"W~ell," resumed Crosby, "Dr. Weston
was the man. Hg had your money."
"Ilow? What ?" graseped Arthur, gaz
ing from one to the other in blank aston
"Hold on, my boy,", said the doctor,
whIle a thousand emotions seueed to work
wvithini lis bosonm. "I was the villain. It
was I who got your money. I worked your
ruIn, and I will tell you why ; 1 saw that,
you were dying. Your father dIled of the
same disease. A consumpIthin wais upon
him-not the regular puhnoniary affection,
but a wasting away of the systemi for want
of vitality. The mi. was wecarlng out the
body. The soul was slowly eating its way
from thio cords that bound it to the earth. I
know that you could be cured, andI I knew,
too, that the only thIng In the world which
would cure you was to tihrow you onm your
own physical resources for am livehmood.
There was a morbId willingness of the spirit
to pass away. You would have dhiedl erc
you would have mado an exertion from the
fact that you looked upon exertion as worses
than death It was a strang state of both
mind and body. Your fortune rendered
work unnecessary, so there was no hope
wvhile that fortune remained, Had It been
a wholly bodily malady, I could have argu
ed you into necessary work for a cure. And
on the other hand had It been awhiolly men
tal disease, I might have drmiven your body
to help your mind. But both were weak,
and I know you must either work or (lie.
"And now, my boy, I'll tell you where
my hope lay. I know that you possessedI
such a true prido of Idependence that you
would work. I saw Crosby, and told hiim
my plans. I assured him if we could con
trive to get you to sea, and make you start
out Into active life, for the snkO 'of a live
hood, you could be saved. He joined me
at once. I took your money and lis, and
then bid him clear out. You know the
rest. Your money Is safe-every penny of
it-to thieamoumit of -150,000.. Poor Crosby
has suffered much In knowIng how you look
ed upon him; but I know that hie isamply
repaid by the sight of your noble, powerful
frame, as lhe sees it toenight. And ~now,
Arthur, are we foregiven?'
It was a full hour before all the questions
of the happy frienads could be asked and an
swered, and when the doctor and Crosby
had~bcen forgIven and blessed for the twen
leth time, Mr. -Molbumrne said, "Wait I"
He loft the room and' when lie returned
the led sweet Grace by the hand.
Late in the evening, after the health of
our friends had fairly b'egun to grow tired
with joy, Arthur ased Grace whether, lie
need waft any longer,
Gfaceaked her father, and the answer
may bo easlyf gtfessed.
PhianitaxmaJ or the) Walker.,
Nine cots Witi excelsior mattremses, stand
belleath the tents it the dide ol the (rack,
Weston and Rowell sleep ill rooms at th<
eastern (end of tile Garden. (Thyon rests
in Ite I'iulm H Iouse, icar ithe Forth
avenue entrance. All the other walkern
sluep in their tents. The liois of unconi.
siousness tare few. Up to midnight hier.
ritt ha(d 1s1leIt oinly sCCI hours since the
opening of the tournament. ''lhey e n
hardly be (alled hours o' rest. hle weary
pedestriain is sponged or has a bath. lie
piteles in his cot. Ile is wrapped In hih
blankets. The lights in his tent are extin.
guished. lie closes his eyes'and eiters' i1
world of phantoms. The cheers of th
crowd, the musie of the band, the clapping
of hands, the miurmur of a vast hive of
bees, and the tread of many feet flit through
his sleep. Iil body is racked with pain.
There is an appalling heat in his feet. iHis
templet; throb. The blood becometCs stag.
naut and frequently nightmare follows.
The dreamer is still on the track. Itl sees
his competitors passing him one by one,
and is unable to increase his own speed.
O'Leary says that during his walk for the
belt in London lie never went to sleep with.
out the shadow of Vaughn before him. It
would follow him aromiA a phantom track
with looks of exultation in its eyes. At
times It would bar his way. It would
stand facing him alt the curves, making
grimaces and contortions. Up to the mo
ment of walking Vaugi's shade never left
lia sleep. Gnyon has a similar experience.
On Wednesday night lie slept the sleep of
the damned. The pain in his feet was no
intense that it had turned his stomach.
Weston was ever before him. When he
turned In Merritt had passed him and taken
second place. Weston wits doing splendid
work, and rapidly overhauling him. A
ghostly Weston pursued him In his dreams.
Whichever way he turned Weston was at
his heels. Nor was Weston the only phan
ton. The dials assumed the faces of the
other contestants, and taunted him as he
passed. A spirit Krohne fifty feet high
was walking over him. Although lie was
in the Putnam Ilouse, far removed from
sight or sound of the garden, he Iheard the
murmur of the crowd, the roar of brass in
struments, the tread of a thousand feet, and
peals of laughter. When he awoke toward
morning he found a tumbler beneath his
pillow. The pillow was drenehed. He
was unable to account for It until he re
membered that in his dreams lie had a
spirited contest with Weston. The dreams
of the pedestrian are based on the condil
tion of Ilis stomach. When the stomach
refuses nourishment threatening apparitions
frequently appear. In one case a pedes
trian fancied that lie was rolling among old
logs covered with thousand-legged worms.
In another case the pedestrian thought him
self on the track, but unable to walk.
Upon glancing at his feet lie was shocked
to see that they had turned into -hickory
saplhngs, and tle saplings grew with such
rapidity that they raised him in the air.
The agony. of these hours of unrest is in
creased' when the hapless walker awakes.
Ilis blood is still stagnant. There is a
prickly heat upon his skin. He feels as
though lie was being pricked by a million
of needles. Neuralgic pains throb through
his muscles. hlis joints are stiff. H is eye
lids seem paralyzed. Worst of all, his feet
and shinbones are numbed. Every move
ment sends a thrill of pain through the
body. Ho is oiled aind rubbed. A swallow
of warm beef-tea, or some other decoction,
puts Iin into a little glow and infuses him
with a painful energy. Ile hobbles upon
the track, and the noise, the lights, and
the dark shadows of his competitors confuse
him. The cold air strikes him unpleasant
ly. le makes one lap, and the impulse to
re-enter his cot Is frequently so great that
lie finds it irresistible. Before coming on
the track h1e lies upon his cot in a semi-un
conscious state while lhe is rubbed and1( clad.
lIe hardly appreciates the situation before
he find(s himself upon thle track. If his
shoes have been changed (durinig lisa rest,
his feet feel like lumps of lead. The11 sore
spots smart more than ever, and( It is wIth
the greatest dinilcult~y that lie can lift his
feet fromi the track, ie occasionally feels
a nausea about the stomach, and his nerves
are strung to the utmost tension. The
snappIng of a whip, a deformed face, a
wide-bruanmed lhat, or ai peculialrly-shaped
bouquet excites his mind, and lie becomes
in a meaaure Insane. 'Weston has a peculiar
abhorrence of tobacco smoke. It probably
affects his stomach. At times the sight of
a p)IPe or cigar thlrows hihni inito a nervous
spasm, and be becomes so excited thant lie
frequently leaves the track.
Tea Cuiture In A mifcl'a.
It Is an established fact, that the tea plant
wvill grow in the United States. Specimens
were flourishing In a Charleston nursery as
early as 1812, and in 1848, Junius Smith,
of Greenville, S. C., made an attempt at
cultivating the plant, whlich was, however,
alandoned before any conclusive evidence
was furnished for or against this industry
becoming a profitable venture. In 1858,
our Government, thiroughl the Commissioner
bi Patents, imported 10,000 plants from
China, whbichi soon increased to 80,000, and
these wvere distributed through the Southern
States. In 1862, the Department of Agri
culture continued to p~ropagate lhants and
furnished them to all who applIed for them,
but under the prevalent belIef that so much
manipulation was nceeded In the manufact
umreof tile article that we could not compote
wvithi the cheap labor of Asiatics, no specIal
effort, was made to disseminate the plants.
Iteports of the success In India now began
to arrest atterition, and the Department was
stimulated to secure more seed and begin
the p~ropagation of the plants In earnest.
In 18617, It was found that an abundance of
seed could be obtained from the plant. al
reaidy growing in the South. Since 1868
from 10,000 to015,000 plants were dIstribu
ted e iery year until 187T0, when encouragIng
assurances fromc plantelb led to still more
extenslveo porations, so that 1,000,000 plants
have been soent out during the last three
years, and the Department, has somec 120,000
new on hand. All this has boon done with
the intention of rendering the cultIvation of
tea popular as Ba'doniestic product, andl with
the hope that public interest would be
atltiniately directed to Its cultivation as. an
article of cowanneal value. One more
fact has been established on undonbted tea.
timony. A good quality of tea can be pro.
duced here, Even with the'* inperfeci
knowledge of planters as to the proper tinm<
for picking and the ploper means of curing,
an article has been produced which experi
enced dealers pronounce very good. It hsa
boen tested in Washington and other eitled
with the safu result, One lady in Qolu
Another lady makes an article which selh
readily for $1.51) per pound, -and whicl
experts pronotice stroiger and of sup-rioi
Iihvor to tlhe imposted article.
''lhe reimlainiiig qInestion to be solved Is:
(ai tea be grown hi this counitry as a pro.
itable market crop ? The cultivation of tit
plant Is ts simple ais that of the gooselierry.
The plants only need to he set in rows,
thoroughly tilled aid properly printed c
induce a low, compact growth and abun
dence of shoots. No leaves should lie picked
until the fourth year trom planting, tc
insure a robuist, healthy and well-estiablislhel
growth so that they will endure the btriiiu
of successive strikpings, for under the best
conditions the. twaes aire picked Several
times each year. What are these condi.
tions ? in the first place, a rich, loamy
soili isndispensable, anld the stiength of thI
ground should be sustained tby fertilizers.
The elimate must be warm, for although
the planut will endure a zero chill, it thrives
best where the summers. are loug, and
where the temperature is never lower Ilian
six or eight (legs. below freezing. The
last necessary condition is abundant moist.
ure. In India the rainfall is front 80 to
100 Inches per anumn, and it is doubt ful
whether the leaves would form with suffi
clent rapidity to mitke this crop successful
in any part of ths country where the annual
rainfall is less than 610 inches, and even
this should be diffused pretty c(nally over
the spring and Suinflh1er Imtontls. Of course
where irrigation In possible Ihi rainfall IS
of less importance.
There is only one way of' learning whether
these and other essenltial conidttions, if such
there be, exist together in this country toi a
degree which would insuire success. Per
Iaps the Govern'nant muight, accomphish
something if it would cease to rely on in
direct methods of encouraging experiment,
which can only be desultory and unsatis
factory, and begin some persistent trials of
its own on a seale of sufilcient. magnitude
to settle the question conclusivoly. An
appropriat ion of $25,000 would be sufliclent
to purchase and stock a farm of ample size
in what seems a favorable location, and it
would cover all needful expenses for a
series of experiments for a term of years.
It would then be found what quantity of
leaves an acre would yield, and what would
be the cost of picking and curing. Until
some satisfactory data on thette points are
established, -priviate enterprise will hardly
grapple with such an uncertain undertak.t.g
and wait several years for results. Many
acute observers have faith that, the United
States will yet produce Its own ten, and
better tea than is now consumed hero
. tarvation lin the Arclu Seas.
If to the present thne whale fishing in the
Arctic Ocean has been insuccessful. Fifty
one whales have been taken by the fleet,
against thirty-two at the same time last
year, and the whales have run large, averag
ing about one hundred barrels of oil, and,
say, eighty thousanid pounds of whalebone
in all ; also about eleven tlousand walruses,
egainst twelve thousand last year the wil
.ruses making less oil than usual, as fewerfe
males are killed, and a larger proportion of
male walruses than li years past. Not a
whale has been taken lin the !t.riit, or tite
Arctic ocean, and only onte whti. has been
seen, and that by the llelen Mar. Four
ships and several brigs and schooners got. to
the eastward and iuissed- the chance. A
great many whales were seen, and more
than usual were struck and lost. The Helen
Mar struck fifteen and saved seven; the Pro
gress five, and saved two. Not a whale has
been taken by the natives of the whole
coast', and the whaling party, with their
rocket guns, which wintered at Plover bay
got nothing. The natives onl Diomede is
lands report seeing large numbers of whales
going north in May and early June last, east
of tha islands, and they struck over to Cape
'lThompsotn and Point 1 lope, wvhere the na
tives took flve (onto one-hundred-barrel
whale-one of about forty barrels, andit three
amall ones, wvithont whalebone). Tlhere is
more ice, and further south this year, titan
usual. Ships havejbeen in 61.40, and re
cently four or flyve ships were thirty-five
miiles east of Catpc Lisbuirne, stopped by ice
Capt. Tomi Williams startedi some days ago
with his little steamer, the Bouquet, to reach
WVahnwrightt inlet, Point Belcher or Point
Barrow, if possible; ho willl trace the shore
atroundl ; his steamuer draws only three and a
half feet of water, and can steam one hun
bredl mIles a (lay. rTe tradIng-vessels have
about six thousand pounds of whalebone
and a small quanity of ivory compared with
former years. About half the flect are in
the West ; the other half are all over to
Cape Scege and West wvalrusing, de
stroying them by thte thousand ; about elevent
thousand have been taken, and thirty or
forty thtouisand destroyed thIs year. An
other year, or perhaps two years, wvill finish
them; thtere will hardly be one left, and I
adivise all natural history societies and mu
scums to get a spechnfen while they ctan.
Fuilly one-third of the p)opulation south of
St. Lawrence bay perish the past winter for
want of food, and half thte natives of St.
Lawrence islandl dlied; oneo village of twvo
hundred Inhabitants all (11ed excepting one
man. Miothers took thteir starving chIldren
to the butrying-groundls, strllpped the clotht
ig front teir little emaciated bodies, and
thon strangled them or let theo intenso cold
end their miscry. It Is hteartrendrig to
hear thtem tell how thtey suflered. Capt.
Cogan has taken very fewv walruses, lhe says
that for every oneo hutndred walruses taken
a famIly is starved, and I concur. in his
opliion. The season, or rather the Iee,
does-not look favorable to the success of the
Bennett expedition, for they can not pene
trate the pack with that or any othter steam
er, as it Is now packed by the -constant
strong south winds; biut before long the
wvhole ice-pack may be pushed north or
A simple device is wIthin the reach of
every one having ant ordinary windowv In
his room, by whIch fresh outer aIr can be
admitted in small quantity with such an
utpward current as will prevent its being
felt as an Injurious draft by tho inmates.
It Is particularly adapted to sleeping rootms
Iwhen thte weather is too cold to admit of an
opent window. Thus, start bo~h top and
bottom sashes of the window half an. Inch,
which is not quite enough to clear the re
bate or stop-beads at the top and bottom,
but which leaves an opening of an inch be
tween the meelingra s, through which a
cittrat enters, but devrtdd upward by ahc
glae as it should be1 io as not to fall dir.
eetly tthe floor, as Its .Coolnes uigl
otow s nd o t9 do.. e giu b i
Ilurricanes inot Forida.
On approach of autumn the Floridian
quakes with apprehension. It is the dread
ed season of hurricanes. Tearing through
the West Indies, they often strike the coast i
with deadly effect. With scarcely a note I
of warning houses are overthrown, sail - I
boats blown frot the water, and orange
groves swept bare of leaves and fruit.
Some of the old settlers say that they can 1
detect signs of the storm a day before it
breaks upon them. "You feel it in the air
long before it comes," says one. This is, I
however, an indefinite sign.--The devast
ation linging its track certainly proves that
"you feel It In the air when t comes.'' N
One of these typhoons visits the coast every
yeae.-The day may be bright and beauti- I
ful, and the flowers heavy with bees and i
huminung birds. The mudhens of the mar- c
shes pipe an alarm. Not a blade of salt
grass moves. The blue sky grows hazy, 1
anld the eastern horizon Is milky white, I
Fitful gusts begin to ripple the water and g
handle the green leaves. A low moan (
comes from the ocean. Smoky clouds roll t
Into the sky front the southeast, and a f
strong wind whitens the ruilled water.
Every minute it increases in fury. An omi- e
nous yellow light tinges the atmosphere. C
The sun is gone, and, great drops of rain i
I are hurled to the ground. Within fifteen <
minutes there is a gale, and soont the full V
force of the hurricane Is felt. Great engles g
and pelicans are swept through the heavens I
utterly powerless. Sparrows and other t
small birds are lashed to (ICath by lentless I
twigs, and the torn bodies of snowy herons i
and wild turkeys lodge in the branches of i
lit- live oak and cypress trees. All living %
things disappear.--alh pines are ti wisted ,
asunder. Th little limbs Of Willows and g
oleanders snap like cow-whips. Lofty a
palmettoes bend their heads to the ground,
their great fais turned inside out like 111 t(
ribs of an unibrella. I lc forec of the wind C
keeps the irees Iown uitil every green fan 8
pop8 like a pistol-shot. Orange gmroves aret N
ripped into shoe-strings. The leaves of the (1
scraggy scrub on the beach are wiped out,
anid their stems whipped into little brush- t
es. Tho tough saw palmetto is blown as 1
flat as a northern wheat flehl, and the dead a
gr-ass of the savannas lashed into fine (lust. 1)
Boards in the surf are struck by wind, and g
sent spinning hundreds of feet into the air.
The sand dunes are caught up bodIily, ande
silted through pine trees miles away. The ci
foam of the sea is blown beneath the houses ti
on the main land, and conies tp between y
the cracks of the floor like steam. These
hurricanes last from seven to eight hours
even longer.-During the lulls rain falls in
torrents. The tide rises to a great height, h
carrying away wharves aid boat houses, f
and flooding the low country for miles. b
The ocean leaps the sandy barriers of the b
coast, and floods the Indian and other salt il
water rivers. involving great tlaaiige. After a
the storm centre-boards and jib stays arc A
found in spruce pines, oleanders atre loaded hp
with cordage, atnd dead eyes and peak- t
blocks drop from lealless orange trees. e
Gar(lens are destroyed, fetces swept away, t
and the tormented Floridian has tlhree 1
luonth's work and no pay to repair dam- o
Often ias a lake or stream been dragged 01
and Cannon fired over the water to cattse a m
dead body to rise that lacy quietly on shore. (I
Just so it is with many who are constantly I
buying patent medicines at high prices, ii
when they could get, the saitme tIing at their ti
own doors alost To cotnence just here. s
Not tenm paces. from my door grows tle v
plantain, a univertsal companion of Lhat) tiller ti
of the soil, usutally destroyed as a meait a
weed, which It Is, but "give the devil his e
due," its they say, and let, us take out o I
this plant what we cant. If a shoe hits c
rubbed a foot (and It often happens vith us
poor clodhoppars,) Just slip a lean fresh i
lantttaini leaf betwecen the sore place atd the r
leather and thent think of this. Lay the v
plants on a hot stove unttil wilted and lay I
them as a pottltice, oan a sore ot- lammatua- a
tioni and~ It will give relIef. Not faf off Is p1
the detestatble .Jamestown with Its showy, y
trumnpet shape flower, into which the sphtinx e
tobacco bird, (delits to poke Its long pro- a
boscis ini thec shade of thme evenintg. ilr-ulso ei
its leaves andt pourt a little whisky on them, y
str-ain it andl yott have a wvash foi- t-ubbed s
shouldcers or back of a horse, antd tto other s
wash can excel in the wauy of healinig. VTe s
seed of It fried in lard and the grease used( (
as atn application for the piles will give re- ri
lief equal to anything thant catt he botught. f,
Thme burdlock and tnettle both abomInations f'
to thte husbanidman, have their good qual- y
ties. Thte roots will make .a tea that will y
purify thte blood, anid putt a stop to the big- ii
gest ntest of boils ever hatchIng on a mnan's dI
body. The tea Is bitter aid not picasant to dI
take, but this is thte ease with tnearly all hi
medicine. The leaves of the common la
privet are a sure cure for sore mouths, u
simplly by chewing thte leaves atid lettinag a
ltcm rest oan thme sore ini the nmouth, and Is Ii
not half as nasty as a chow~ of tobacco. If p
tIl Is not otn the grounds, a pilece of poacht '
leaf will bm often quite, a relief.
Soda water Ia sImply car-bonic-acid gas
soaked Iin water. - Theo cat-honic-acid gas Is
obtainied by pourinag sulphitric acid over
marble chIps or dust. VTe gas is passed
through water several times to free It from
all tirace of thte sulphuric acid and is thenat
lipumpe into a strong steel receptacle, In
wic~h I a pure water. 'Te sotta fountaiti Isa
genermally an elaborate marbule affair, costing
from $50 to $5,000. Generally a soda
fountain it a drug store will pay the remit ofa
tho store atleast, and sometImes mutch more.
Fountains are fed from onec draught tubo andI
five sirups to six ttubes and twenty-two
sit-tps. At some places thecy have pure
fruit ailus, and( at others-they say they
have. TIho first patent for soda water was
taken out In England In 1807, yet the soda.
fountain it all Its glory Is only to be seen in
Amerlea. In this country there Is at leastI
$12,000,000 htivested in soda-water mamit
factories, fountaimns, Oe., and yet you can
get a drink for 5 cents. 'rTe ta-Ij! used to
be 10 cents, amid then a young man wIth a
party of ladles dreaded thte sIght of a foun
tain or the sountd of its sizzle, bitt hard tlimest
had the same effect on soda as on every
thing else. If theo pt-le were further low
ered to 8 dents there is little dloubt but a
great increase of consumption and profit 3
-M.. e eaumouar, the pre-fshohent of I
the geogr-aphicall s~oelet-y of Geonevi
piolpons thluttigitude, [istead of be-. I
Inatgi-eckone fthrot Greenwich, Pais, *4
Kerr'o Qir Wasin~toi, Ba at presentL, I
.sljail he reckoned Ironi an 1i)1ttui IfOril
dhnpssingth-ou h ehA! s tfr W 'I
begrenfoth A er A) a
To grow osters successfully a deep, rich
'oil is indispensable. The ground should
L1SO bo moist and low, but not too wet.
l'he deep, moist black lands are good, but
he "made lands" are the best. What I
nean by made lands are lands made by
oil deposited by changes in the flow of
treams or rivers. These soils are the nat
tral home of the willow. The land should
)e broken as deep as possible (say. ten
nehes), as late in thu fill as the weather
vill permit, and also thoroughly harrowed
iefore freezing commences. Planting
hould commence as soon as the frost is out
f the ground and while the ground is still
,cry soft. The slips shou( be ready pre
ared. They should be about ten inches
ng; tied up in bundles, with the buds all
ie way, and either set Im shallow water,
overed with earth, or placed in the cellar
ntil needed. In plantig I think It best to
ave a long cord and stretch it across the
lat, pushing the willow slips into the
ound alongside the cord. In this wiy
lie rows are made perfectly straight. Af
'r planting one row move the cord three
act and plant the next row. This can be
one quickly by having one person at, each
nd of the cord to move the pegs and( stretch
hIe cord. The rows will he three feet
part at every point, and it will be straight
nough to admit of easy cultivation. It
,ill be necessary in puslhing the slips in the
round to have a thick leather pad for the
and, and no slips shoul be use( except
lose that are h1ic enough to be shioved
ilo the ground without bending (and break.
Ig. The slips should be set about ten
wihes apart in rows. Closer planting
-ould not hurt, but they are eisler culti
ated when at. this distance apart, and will
et thick enough in a few years. As soon
a tile buds Com III ience starting, and the
round gets dry enough, cultivation ought
) commence with hoc and citiivator. ThIs
ultivation'siould he repeated through lime
.nsoin often enough to keep down the
eeds and keep the grouid In a good con
ition for the slips to grow. The slips will
robably grow about I hree to fIve feet high
ie first season. Some willow-growers cut
icmn off in the winter of the first, year, so
t to secure straight shools the next season. I
ut I think the best 1)1plan IS to let them I
row two seasons before citting, as the
mots will be stronger anl the third year's I
rop (Which ought to be the first market t
rop) will be better. Bk'sides, if not cut
ie first winter afler phmiting, tile second I
mar's cultivation will be greatly lessened.
'lie first cutting (tho second Iwinter after
lanting) is of little market value, and
ight as well be thrown aside, or what Is I
etter, the best of it might be cut into ships
>r- planting more land. The cutting can t
c :Ione at any time from the 1st of Decen
Ur until the buds start in tie spriln ; and
icy should be cut while the allow is off so
1 o cut as close to the ground as possible.
. long hawk-bill knife, made for the pur
osc, is the best to cut with. After cltting,
e up1) in bundles an(d put into Rhocks, in
rder to keep the 1111 from the buts until
icy are hauled to the ditlh. 'T'lho ditches
1iould be made convenlient to a spring
r small running brook, so as to lead the
-ater from the spring or brook into them.
'he ditches should be made perfectly level
in the bottom, and should be no deeper
ian necessary to hol about three inchesof
'ater. There should be forks or stakes
riven into the ground on botlh sides of the
itch, opposite to each other, and about
ve feet apart. Poles shoul( extend across
ic ditch lrom each fork to the one oppo
te, about four feet from the ground. The
'illow bundles shouki be set in bet ween
lese poles as thick as they canl be placed,
id care should be taken that the buts are
ven, or some of them will be out of water.
the ditch Is wide, there should also be
ross slats to keep the bundles from falling
ver in cse of wind. The object in hav- I
mg the ditches so shallow is so that the I
iots that wvill colme oult as the sial rises
'ill be at the very en~ds of thle cuttings.
the water is dleeper, the roots wvilI COmelO
ult necar the surfalce of thle water, and1( thalt
a~r, of the willow below the roots 1
'ould be hard to pcel. Th'le peeling should
onmenICeC a18 soon1 as thle budls pult forth,
uid be p)ersistedl in faithfully until all are
oneC, which should1( be in a month or six I
'eeks at thle farthlest. Th'le willows
iould be placed In the sun as s1 oon as po0s
ble after peeling. If it is a rainy (lay
>rcadl thiem thin until thle sun comles out.
ino (lay's sunt will generally be suflcient, If'
ot packed In too large quantities for soe
sw days after. Be sure they are dIry be
)re bulking, or they will lose thecir bright
'hite color, and1( wIll also lose greatly In
alue. Never let them get wvet after peel
ig, or they will turn black, unmless immefl
intely dried. After they are thloroulghly
ried, tie them up1 inl seventy-five to one
uindred pound1( bu~idles for sippil~ng or
aniling to market. Th'ie profit (depends
pon how cheaply youl got thle work done,
ad upon the demands of thle market. Good
mnds ouight to produce five thloisandl
oundls of marketable willows per acre.
'hley are now werthi about four cents per
ound1(. Thley oughlt to 1)0 put on thle mar
et at a cost of two cents, withl good man
gemient, whlich w ouIld leave a net profit of
100 per acre.
Our robin lIves our of dloors, bult he Is so
unfe that he enters thle hous15 at all tImes
ad seasons. When Hlenny's duties keep
or at home robin showi himself a most
evoted hlusband: ho carres her plentIful
upplies of oatcake crumbs, butter, bIts of
andle, and other delicacies of .the same
ind. And whlen he has to cater for thme
ttle ones as well, he is really to be pitled;
ebusy isalie that he0 neglects lisa toilet
early altogether, and we have to be satis
ed with hlurried scraps of song. Ho- gets
uite fearless In his anxiety for his family,
ud will join us at breakfast and hlp him
elf to buttered toast wihout the slIghtest
esitation or invItatIon. It is no use to
reak off a pIce for robin; his way Is to
op onl the plato and pIck off for hImself
hlat lie considers the daInty bIts. I hlave,
nown him to como In five tImes duiring
reakfast. At night, a window Is left open
hat lhe may'como in for crumbs when he
leases. Should all the windows bo shut,
obin hias a ver pretty~"Open Sesame'"
0 slts on the window-sill and sings loutlya
(obscdy can resist that appeal, as 110 knows
romi experience. And when 11 lihes to
;ot out, he has a very effectual widy of
nautaging that point, too, by littefinig
oroh toom to room, uttorng a little m.
nod '"0 o, hick I" And as 9u k
heato inlO a ait for'im 'eo q
bs th6)~i~Oa one. .Jj
FOOD FOR THOU rIT.
iIamana lif'e 1a everywliere a stttt In
whilch t-.ich Is to be endkired.
11.ver'y child walks Into existeone
through tle golent gate of love.
A Iopeless Ipersoli Is one vho desortii
Ignioranceo lts no light ; urrs)r followi
a false one.
A tine cot. Iaay cover a fool, bat
neer coniceals one0.
There Is no grIoflike t,4e grief wItich
dIoes riot leilk.
He who blackens others does not
Genius 1s sonetimesarrogant; know
leilge ais always dillident.
We are ti1e*ver so proud snld so h-iti
LIe as when we-arc praised.
Ire only enjoys 111 passion Who e.in
imiake no u14e or Is, rotton.
The pleasure Q1 doing good Is 1lie on
ly pjleasure that never wgcar out.
1urtely half the world must be blind
ley. can see nothling utilss it gIl ters.
Ifi a daitice Is short of ome fiailts, hie
ily Old niot knyw how to acqire
Virtie p.trdons the wicked, as the
anlal tree peitriues tile axe that
To be in love Is nothing cse but to
ove more whit we loved beforo we
6vere in love.
IetavOi's gaits aire wide enough to
tuin it, v1ry sier 1in the tIiLverse Who
s pen itent..
Caltani iiy atid detraction are but,
parks, which, if you (10 not blow them,
vill go ot, of' thelmselves.
-The wealthy miser .lives as a poor
n,n1 here; but, he Imust give account
is a rich man it the day of Jidgment.
How contaiglotts Is the laugh of some
)(ople, how Jarring that of' others, l1ke
)l1y'ig onl a worn out plitilo.
Whiat is style'l timirlity Is probably
iothing bt, the fear of '8howilig too
A good con sttint;on is IlikIe a money
mox-its full vait e0 liever knowni till
I, is broken.
Good tnete is the iodcsty' of the mind
hat Is why it nnlot he either i imiitated
>r acquired. . .
lin general, there i 1. one with whom
Ito drags so (i-Igreceably as with him
v ho tries to. wake It shorter.
You cannot dream. yosirself into at
arneter; You itust hammer aAnd
orge yourself one.
The heitit that is soonest awake to
lie flowers is always,. ,he flirst to be
otcled by the t.horis.
The aid les to H[eaven ire- few and
hort mad the gloraiots end will como
If the, shoe of it amonarch could do its
aiiuclh as tie monaren himself, the court
vould be divided betwoen hIs manjesty
iti hIs Shoe.
WIthout a belIef in prrsonal Iutimotr
ItL1113 religionl surey is like att arch
estlaig oil on1e pillar, like a bridge end
log in ani abyss.
Tho sweat of one's brow Is no longer
Cirso when one works for God; it
ir1oyes a tonile for ,Ow system and is
.etully3 a blessingt.
Charity Ltward the weaknesses (of
ual atirb is at virtue whIleh lwe do
mind li others, bul, wh lhi we illd very
itrd to practice ourselvt'es.
Memory tand hope fire set like stars
thove th4lie soil-ile one shining (1im1y
briouIgh the twilight of the past, the
>thier liglhing the urch wiy of the fu
We can elsily muaialge if we will only
Ak , ceh da1y, the ourdent appolited
or it. But the loed will be too heaivy.
or us it we a-Jdto 10Its weIgh t thbo bur
en of' to-miorrow before we arie called "3
0 bear It.
ie thait will put time and eteruity .I
'elor'e himi, and wvho will dlare to look
ttadfaly 1on01 both of themia, will find
ha the mloret o1f0en he contemiplates
hiem the formier w ill grow gr'eater amta
lie LIa(ttir less.
A yotting oflleer thought to puzzle an
>ider one by lakinig him wheat two
nion of equal age and ran k miet, which'
holid be I ho firast to bow. Tile elder
i|anly rep~hlull, "' Tn'e mioire polite of'
Wanat of' aroods is ealsily replaired ; po.
'erty of 80ou1 ia irreparable. Socrates,
coing a great. qutana ity of richeos,Jewels ?
Lt~id tlinaittIle.of great yalule Carried in
)OmpII through ihe city : "blow miany
hings,'' said lhe, "(10 1 not desire ?"
Alen ay as well expect to grow
tronger by always sitttng. as wviser by
lways reaidin g. Tioo much overohar
es3 nattatre, and tuarns more itnto disease
han nourilshmet, It is thought
yhtleh is metal digestioni, vhich maikes
ooks servlpeable, and gIves health and~
rigor to the m)ind. .
God led thie Israelites to and fro, for--V
yard anod backwarth, as in a maze- or'
atbyrtnth; and yet they wvere all the
vhile tinder the direction of the pillar .
>f' cloud. Hie led them~ about, and yet Ji
io ted them by a rilght way. His -wa.
ni bringing his people herie is alwayw~. ~
he best, though af l ibt ho the aaa
Thou hmast a double -nature. o~j
>etweeni the worse and thte better tfa
s wIthIn thee. Thou ihast it in t~
oewer to beco 'ne the' 'slave of paits's ',
he slave of luxutry, the shlave of
mali pleasure, the 'slave ol! eorrutI~r
l'hlola hatst it inl thy power to ou''
~he fr'ea master of tivself, to bq
he everlasing beneofaktdr'of thg#6ht~
'ry, and the unfalhi' ohitenplon~i ~I
IabiAs the depes$ la oluu fat i'
rt 'le our greatest lsr'rtth :5Kl
rentesv weakness. " Itdka seizoh
sent advantages and- blessIngs; ap
thiat a..oimes fkort hentvenagenusji'
t0ut to g'ow lan gracb kilu' iniO
ion sud in the kildIlxdge of
)r It can putt l(4:st awkgy no
Akt the kne vi i4~f
Is added to tkihhe l
uver it 4' I