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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION, W I NNSBORO, S. JANUARY 22, 188
LIGHT THROUGH OLOU LB.
ii, o I hold it ainful to despond,
";'fi, And will not let tho bittt.rnes of lifo
B. 13lietl ma with burnting toats. but look beyond
Its tumult and its srifo.
Piecanso I lift my head above the nmiat,
Whero the -un thi' s and tho broad breezes
By every ray and every raindrop kissed,
' hat God's love t!oth bestow;
Think you I find no bitter les at all,
No burden to to l) ruo like Christian's pack?
Thiik you there ate no rcady tears to fall,
Because I keep them back.
Why should 1 huv 1.fo's ills wi h co'd reserve
To cnreb unseo;f and all who love nto? Nay,
A thousand times more goo 1 than I desor'e
Od gives me overy day.
And n each one t f theso rebellious tears.
Kept bravely back he imakes a rainbow shine,
Orateful I take hi- slightast gifts; no roars
Nor any doubts are mine.
Dark skies must clear, and when the olouds
One gollen day redeems a weary yeart
Path nt Ill ten, sure that sweet at 1: at
WiAl sound his voice of cheer.
The Heart of Ice,
The winter a day was drawing to a close,
and the bleak shades of a snowy night wore
In the silent seclusion of a deep and
lonely glen, far from any other habitation,
aid somo length from the public road,
stood a small cottage, known as the Glen
Farmhouse, the property of Ralph Granite,
who resided there with his wife, :.nd had
done so for thirty years.
IIe was a cold, hard man-cold and hard
as the name he bore.
Mary Granite, his wife, was the exact re
verse, with a motherly face and a wartm
and tender heart.
On this bleak night of December, this
night of storm, wind and snow, Granite
and his wife were quietly seated in the
large, homely kitchen.
At last Mrs. Granite, dropping her knit.
ting in her lap, .broke the silence of the
"1 wonder whore Alice Is to-night,
"What rlo you care wher9 she is, eh?"
roughly exclaimed the farmer, looking up
from his paper with a dark frown.
"4 night of storm never comes but I
think of my poor girl I It was on such a
night as this that she left our home, and
to-night I have such a strange feeling ac
"Banish her from yaiur thoughts as I have
done--the disobedient girl."
"Oh, Ralph, Ralph, it is unfatherly to
talk thus I Remember that she is your
daughter, my obililt.tha nnly nh1i,1l Um
ever gave us."
And tears came rushing to the poor moth
"What clann has she on us now? A
very dutiful daughter she proved, didn t
she?" cried the father, bitterly. "When
Alice disobeyed me by marrying that fop,
George Convey, I tore her face and me
mory out of my heart."
"Alice was never a disobedient child
never, never 1" wept the mother. "She
loved a man who loved her truly. She
came to you and told you all; he, too,
came, and asked your consent, to marry
Alice. What was your answer ? You re
fn.-ed, insulted him, and thrust him from
"As I'd do again," muttered the farmer,
between his clenched teeth.
"1 t hey were married in the village
church." went on Mrs. Granite, "and took
the night train for the city two long years
ago. From thas time to this her fate and
whert abouts have been a mystery, and site
has never written to us."
"Yes, she wrot'e," said IRalph Granite,
his face growing still harder. ."Site sent
two or three letters after she went away,
but I destroyed thtem the moment 1 received
"And you never told, me." Oh, 11alph,
Italph, that was cruell"
"Not more so than her disobedience to
her father's wishes. Come how, drop the
Once more silence reigned in the farmer's
Ten o'clock came and the storm eoutlnu
ed with uabated fury.
The farmer and his wife took up their
* candle, and a.ecurely fastening the door,
took their way up to their chamber above
The'ly had scarcely entered the apartment
when a pitiful cry was wabted to their ears
Mr. Granite raised the window and put
his head out.
3 t "Whose there?'" he asked, trying to
* penetrate the iarkness.
*'A poor woman who has lost her way In
the night and storm," said the- sorrowfnl
"Where do you want to go ?"
"I want to reach the vlilage, butt I'm not
able to walk anmy further. Won't you give
me shelter. Pray do-only till morning I"
spoke the wanderer out in that awful
"Poor thing !" cried Granite's wife. "i'l
go down and open the door."
"No you won't."
And the farmer stayed his wife; tihe1
said to the woman :
'You follow the road a couple o' mikc
and you'll reach the vilage. We don't tak<
Hli ,hut down the window, and his wift
-fell into a chair weeping.
"Italpht, RalphIt" she cried, through hea
*tears, "your heart is ice I The poor womat
will perish I"
The farmer made no answer, but rotire<
to bed. . -
Man without a heart, sleep on, for it I
the last night of peaceful slumber that wil
ever visit your pillow. The morrow'
dawn -will bring to your house a htorro
which will blight, darken, andashadow you
future on earth ; it will rend your icy heat
as It was.naver rent before I
And the poor woman of the storni
wheore was she?i Out oi the lonely roadJ
whtere-snow lay in drifts, and the wind tor
by. On, on, her step faltered, shto stoppe
Fierce howled the wind, heavier fell tb
Snow, and on thme roarisideo started up
faco ; white as the smiow that surrounde
it, the face of the strange womam, rigid I
deth, N her shroud pf snow.
orning dawnqd, with a blue sky,
6Wil su, aai snew 4ad country.
Farmer Granite and his wife were eating
The farmer's face wore a strange look,
and his wife was puzzled.
"Wife," said he, after finishing his
breakfast, and pushing back his chair, ''do
you know what 1l going to do to-day ?"
"Well, then, I'mi going to write to the
rity and ask both Alice and her husband to
Cmine out here."
"Are you really In earnest ?"
"Yes, wife. I've been a stern father
long enough. I'm goln to make up with
A ice and her husband."
Mrs. Granite's joy was unbounded. The
heart of ice was melted at last.
"I wonder what become of that poor wo
man who came to our door last night.?"
"Oh, she's in the village now, in all pro
A pain, heavy and sharp, seemed to
catch his breath.
Why did he start and seize the back of
his chair to keep himself from failing?
Four men were coming up the path
four neighbors carrying between them a
plank, with something on It.
They entered the larmer's kitohen and
laid the' burden on the floor.
The, farmer anr.d his wife were pale as
the dead face befo"o them.
"A woman, Mr. Granite," explained one
of the men, "a woman as was found by us
four this morning, up yonder on the road.
She's quite (lead, sir."
"Why-why did you bring her here ?"
gasped the farmer.
"Cause I thought as how her face looked
A wild shriek came from Mrs. Gra
nite, who dropped on her knees and tore
the coveriL.g ofY the face of the dead wo
A cry of agony and horror came from
the farmer, as the dead face, with its open,
glassy eyes, stared up at him.
"Good Heaven !" he cried, covering his
eyes, and staggering backwards.
"It Is Alice-our Alice-whom vou re.
fused to shelter last night I Oh, Itulph, It
is the vengcecce of Heaven 1"
A nioatn, and Mrs. Granite fell to the
iloor In a swoon.
"Our Alice?" moaned the striken father,
kneeling at his dead daughter's side, and
parting the frozen hair from the white tem
ple. "Our Alice, whose brightness I have
so longed for; and 1-i killed her I I was
going to write for you to-day, Alice. It's
too lIte now 1"
His mind was giving way under the aw
A letter was in the postofilce, and had
lain there for two weeks past. One day
after Alice had been laid in the churchyard,
Mrs. Granite received and read it..
It was dated from the city, and from her
daughter, telling that her husband had'
failed in business and died, and that she
was coming home -coming back to the
place where she was born, for her heart
was broken t . prayed that har sitir
The letter was received too late.
It is summer, and the little churchyard
of the village is a blooming Eden.
A double grave has been made ; two cof
fins have been lowered into the earth, and
the little slab contains three namnes-Ialph
and Mary Granite, and Alice, their
Husband, wife and daughter sleep to
gether now, under the shade of the church
Eighteen Sons in the War.
Rev. Daniel B. Helton, a Baptist
preacher of IHoan county, Tenn., is 88
years old, and is as active as most men at
50. le recently walked three miles to
give testimohy at the county seat and re
turned the same day. lie says: "I can
sight a rifle gun as well as I could sixty
years ago, ani only for a slight tremble of
the hand would not amias one shot inI a
hundred." In reply to the qtuestion, "On
which sido were your sympathies during
late war'" he rep)lied: "I was always a
Union man. I had sixteen sons in the
Union army and two in the rebel army,
and my sympathies were with the Union
fourteen imjority." Whieii asked if lie
knew which of the boys were right, lie said,
"I know 'which 1 think was right, cap'n.
There war fifteen majority hn that 'ar
family including me. I helped the boys on
the Union side." iIe hits been twice mar
ried, and is the fathier of twenty-one ohil..
dren. Hie served mi the war -of 1812, but
draws no pension. It is siaid hby the ex
soldliers thant he disd good serviee dturing tie
war by aiding Union soldiers to commnuni
cate wvith their families wvhen they were in
the rebel lines, and In many other ways.
If lie can't get a pednsion for services In
either the wvar of 1812 or that of the rebel
lion, ho certainly ouuzht to get a liberal one
for his services betwveen tihe two. The ok
man is in indigent chrrcumstances.
Foinlts of Ei,aw.
A note on Sunday is voidl.
A note by a minor Is void.
Ignorance of the law excuses no one.
N'otes bear Interest only when so stated
An agreement without consideration Il
The law compels no 0one to do Inpoessi
The act of one partner lkids al the others
A receipt for the money is not legatlla
Contracts made on Sunday cannot be en
IA contract made with a minor i voli
except for necessities.
If a note is stolen It does not release th
maker I lie must pay it.
A note obtaiaed by fraud, or even from
one Intoxicated, cannot be collected.
-* Each Individual In partnership is reaper
sible for tihe whole amount of tihe aebts c
IAn endorser Ofr a note Is exempt from
liability If not served with notice of h
dishonor wvithina twenty-four hours of 1I
s IThe ownership of personal property
' law as not changed until the deaivery, nar
r the purchaser actually takes posesession
t such property,thtough In some States a bl
of sale Is prima facio evidence of owne
s hip If executed, even against creditors, u
less the sale was frauduleptly made,for tI
a purpose of avoiding the payment of debts
A #iFR wantedl her hitsband to syr
ahie with her inl a ferminmine qtuarrc
a utihe refused, sayIng, "I've ~1ivi
l ong enoughmto kniow hnoewm
0 isa go S another, if not better,
"Andi," retorted the ifie, "have 1I
adlogeogyto know that one mi
Is a bad as another. if not worse I"
The California ranchmen have won dcrfu
aptitude for driving, and one sees some
pret ty good examples among the hills. The
road down the mountain sides is entirely
unguarded upon the outer edge, and the do
Scent in -most places Is precepitous. A
balky horse or a fractured wheel, or a slight
carelessness In hand ing the reins. might
easily senld a carriage load of people to des
truction-and an awful destruction. too.
The path is wide enough for one pair of
wheels, only, but, at Intervals, in favorable
places, it broadens so that tennis nay pass
each other. To drive in such a manner as
not to meet another traveler midway be
tween these places is a special branch of the
art. The huge lumber tennis which carry
wood from the mills in the mountains to the
yards in the valleys, being unwieldy and
very heavy, are especially hard to manage.
Yet the drivers always seem easy and nou
chalant. First, there is a large four-wheeled
oaken truck. with a seat in front ten feet
above the ground ; behind it is anot her
Iruck, somewhat shorter, but still enormous
ly stout. These are fastened together and
loaded with from ten to fifteen tons of fresh
ly sawn lumber-boards and joists. This
mass is drawn by six or eight mules or
horses, guided by reins and a prodliglously
long whip. The first wagon has a powerful
brake, worked by a long iron lever by the
driver upon his seat. The driver is a man
of nerve and courage. His skill must be
of the highest order. It will not do for him
to take fright even if in imminent danger.
ancd he must know to a hair's breadth where
he can go, and where he can not. Towering
up far above the road, overlooking the most
stupendous depths, and guiding with a few
slender lines a tremendous force, he must
needs to be an adept and a tireless pne.
But a baholder-ignoraut of the danger that
constantly surrounds him-would say that
his work was simple, and that he imanaged
matters with ease. True, he seems so.
With his broad-brimned hat shading his sun
burned face, his sinewy hands holding the
reins with carelessness, his legs outstretch
ed. with one foot feeling the all-important
brake, lie jogs onward with his monster
charge without trouble or concern ; the bells
upon the horses' breasts jingle a little tune;
the great wheels crush the stones in the
path; the load creaks like a shiip's hull In a
sudden gust ; wild birds sweep down into
hazy, sunny depths below; yet the driver
seems to take no heed. But let a scare take
place; let a herd of runaway cattle appear
at a bend and set the horses wild, and then
see what will happen. The day-dreamer
will become a giant of strength : he is up
in a flash ; he shortens his hold upon the
reins, and feeling his wagon start up beneath
him, places a foot of iron on the brake.
The horses snort and rear and surge ; the
harness rattle, tho dust arises, the load
shrieks again, and the huge wheels turn
fatally faster and faster. An instant may
hurl the wagon down into the valley w!th
its struggling train-*a .njadir-i} Ag e
horrible plunge. muscle, cyc, brain, skill
are then brought to work so splend,idly to
gether that the peril is averted, and the
looker-on, who knows not the wa. of the
land, regards the teamster with profound
The Earl of Essex's ning.
The gay and accomplished Earl of Essex
occupied at proud and enviable position.
He was the favorite courtier of Queen
Elizabeth, and had been loaded with honors
and made Lord-Deputy of Irciand. More
over, he had received a distinguishing
proof of the affection of his royal mistress
Ii the gift of a ring, accompan ed with the
promise, "That should he ever forfeit her
favor, to return it to her, and the sight of
it would immediately ensure his forgive
But the alluring favor of a sovereign Is
often fluctuating and dangerous. Dark
ness aiid sorrow soon overtook the ptroud
Earl of Essex. iIe was sent a close p)riso
ner to tihe gloomy Towver, uinder charge
of high treason, aind lie must yield his
life as a penalty for lisa crime. Elizabeth,
with a bold haiid, had signed thme death
warrant, and time time for his execution was
Hie had been conducted to prison inA
way most harrowing to lisa sensitive spyt.
Tne death Instrument-the axe--had you
carried I advance of him, with its nlarp)
edge full in his view, and a mercilea curi
ous crowvd had followed, cruelly aunting
But his greatest danger cany- from his
rivals amid enemies. There w- courtiers
high in power and in favor whI thme Queen
who glom ted in his downafld thirstid for
It was a terrible lime ,t the unfort nate
Essex, and his soul w AIhrouded in ack
ness. 1lls doom a) red inevitable
At last a faint 'kof light aro and
struggled for mast4 in his bosom. The0
Queen's gift, the 1ng wvas in his 88ess
lont, anid lie ren c3red her promise Pos
sibly it might adto his dlelveranm.
Hlow could ,oget It to her? well
knewv lie was lrrounded by treacd y, and
It was ditlcu to distinguish. fricm from
foes. Coulho trusty messenger found
to wvhom 16could conikde the reciouis
pledlge of 1at favor to his royal Istress,
amid be ce am it could reach her
Long 4d he wrestle with rturing
doubts iifears, andl after muc flection
!he dIe dled to make a confida of thme
Count/as of Nottingham. Bhe always
-seem tghy manifested a strong terest In
him, ni d had constant access t 0 Queen. 1
IAccordingly, shc was sent fo ad Essex I
gamve her the ring, and begged r to take
oIt to Elizabeth and entreat h oyal par
donm for lis olfence.
Uiifortunate Essexl The enger he t
had chosen In ti dark hour espair anti I
-agony was a secret and bitt enmy. As 1
fsoon as the Countess of N gham had <
gained the ring, sihe hurried i It to her ~
ahusband, and they amutual ed to con- t
Iceal the ing and never r ia to the a
5Queen that it lhad been sea a
In tihe meantime, Eliz 1. the great 'l
asovereign of England, wva rely agitated c
d and sorrowfinl. Bheo had y sIgned the r
f death-warrant of the E f Essex, but a
ii without designing h s ex >n. ils rich c
- and versatile talents and uifold attrac- c
1. tlons had won her affecti nd she anx- 1.
G bous to save him. He I er pledge of a
past favor-the ring-an royal prom- a
Iso tha, when she we ehold it, It e
would en sure pardon for offence. Why a
~did lie not return it to lis conduct
was unaccountable. d this high- I
an spirited nobleman prefo uffer an. Igno- r
" minious death on the Id rather than s
.- ask lemxency. a
h Thiere was no solut the mystery; a
and asthe hers p ** mOneeger'
- K.:: - V .
appeared before the Que hearing the ex
pected ring, her heart. gr hard and cold
toward Essex, and she :teriuined never,
unasked, to revoke the s itence of death.
Time went on. Eliza th was suffering
the keenest anguish. at she could not
fathom the surprisi:.g bstinacy of her
favorite courtier. Esse. too, was hope
less and despairing. lie clt that his doouh
was sealed. The Queen ad received the
ring, but it had failed to waken any teel
ings of pity or mercy wi in her, and ho
could see no way of delis rance.
The hour for the exc ition of Essex
came. Acconimanied by strote guard he
was conducted to the seal Id. The heads
mn was there. and a cro -d of malignant,
blood-thirsty people, an. >us to. see hiimt
The fortitude of Esse did not desert
him in this awful hour. 'alinnly he laid
his head on the block. te axe fell, and
the envied, brilliant Esse. was no more.
The tidings of Essex' death quickly
spread. Thongh he had inny ri v tts and
enemies plotting his ruin, he heart of the
nation 'as true and fait ful to him, and
the people were amazed a d horrilled.
The soul of Elizabeth w shrouded with
gloom, but she adroitly co ccaled her griuf
under a mask of gayety.
The days and weeks co 'inued to come
cnd go. The Countess of 'ottingham grew
ill. A terrible secret wa butied in her
breast, and Its poison wa slowly destroy
ing her. Her guilt robbe her life of all
joy and light. It was eve before her in all
its hideousness and blacl tess-a terrible
accuser from which she ould never es
Daily and hourly her liness increased'
Neither medical skill nor he most careful
nursing availed anythint. 1er anguish
was dreadful. As her eti approached her
remorse was unconqner:, >le. Again and
again she called for Elizit>etlh, and a mes
senger was sent to summbn the Queen.
In feeble, broken acdents, the dying
Countess disclosed to her her fatal seeret,.
Without any con?ealnent she confessed
"that the Earl of Essex had entrusted her
with the ring, to convey It to hler; but at
the instigation of her husband she had kept
it, and could not (lie in peace without her
When informed of the truth, the rage of
Elizabeth had no bounds. She seized the
art of the Countess, and cried: "May God
forgive you, 1 nevet cant"
It was a shock from which the Queen
never recovered. Ier pledge of affection
had caused the death of her much loved
Essex, and she could not be comforted.
Soon life became a burden. 11er step
grew weary and heavy. Ambition was
quenched. She becamo hitter and des
potic to her people, and her days and
nights were passed in tears and groans till
deat h releascd her.
11er last act was to appoint James, son
of the ill-fated Marv Qnau..of Sco.tlaud,
greatest of England'a.soverins.. Si as
sembled aroun'l her the most learned* and
brilliant men of the times, who contrib
uted much to the glory of her reign.
She expired in the year 1007, at the age
A FDPeath )uel.
A bloody duel took place recently near
Cottowood, Mo., three miles above the Ar
kansas line, and about a hundred miles
north of Memphis on the Mississippi river,
and resulted in the death of bth the com
batants. The quarrel was etween two
farmers, named A. M. Crock t and Doc.
Nichols, and grew oit of ichols' stock
trespassing upon (rockett's 1- It. A bit
terness grew ur between th n, and one
carried his grie. Into the courts. One day
they met ai the point menltioned when
Nichols corkd out: "You sea I have not
yet been arre*sted!" Crockett rep)lied: "I
see you haven't, you rascal, and I- propose
to wh It out of you right here!" Nichols
said/All rtghlt; you just wait till I fix this
coffeon my mule aind I wvill join you in
ty little gamne'' Crockett quietly await
d Nichols mnovetments until b:>th mIen met.
Crockett drewv a large pot.ket-knife, while
Nichols displayed a dirk, or bowie knife.
'The bloody wyork began at once, and( bloodi
flowed like water from the wounds each
stroke of the deadly weapons made In thei
bodies of the antagontists. Crockett finally
got In a stroke on Nichols' neck wvhich
severed the juguar vein; having previous
ly cut his tongue conmpletely out. Nichols
fell dead by the side of Crockett, who lay
on the ground compllletely exhausted from
loss of blood. He survived his wvoundls
only four hours. No one saw the desper
ate conflict, but a passing neighbor reached
the plac, a few mlomlents before Crockett,
diedl, from whom he learned the above par
iculars. The gentleman did all lie could
'or Crockett, but lhe had received his
leath blow. Ont Nichols' hody thirteen
hvound(s had been inflicted, while on Crock
itt were. eighteen. It is stated that the
ipot where they fouit bore evidences of
long and most terrible conflict. 1Bath
non leave families, flint of,Nichols con
Isting of his wife and eighlt children. Both
vere respeccted b~y thleir neighbors, but
~rockett was considered a dangerous quar
'elsome man, while Nichols was a peaces
do and very quiet neighbor.
Frmt Drying Sly Cokd RBla
An experIment was madie at at fouindry In
~lacerwilleo Inst week, In fruit curing, by
last of cold air. In this experiment about
peek of sliced apples were placed In a
love and stibjected to a cold blast for three
*nd a half hours in the cupola furnace of
heo foundry, and the fruit is reported to1
ave been completely and beautifully cured
y tile treatment, remaining soft and with
ut the elighest discoloration, We were
boult to say dried, but cured is a betteri
vord, for there wrs none of that hard, harsh
tifl dryness aboeut It which frequently re
tilts from drying by sun heat or fire heat.
'he experIment was a atost gratifying sue
ess, anid Iin our judgment is frauight with
usults of great importance to the growers:
nd manipulators of fruIt. The blast of
old aIr completely frees the fruit from its
xcess of moisture, with no possibllity of
urning or shriveling It. Compared with
an dryinig, It effects a great saving of time
nd labo,r. Compiired with fire drying, it
fleets a great saving of expense, attentiona
nd risk. Anybody who can command or
evise a strong blast of cold air, can dry 1
ruit in a superior-we might say perfect
anner, wlt.hout being dependent on the
reather and waiting on the slow process of
an drying, and without the more expen
lye resort ts fuel ad the risk of ov*rhaat I
'Ihe Dluke of Edinlurah.
At anl early hour the )uke of Edinburgh
Is mostly to be found reading or writing In
his own morning room-ta snug apartneut,
which like all the others in the house is
comfortably, not luxuriously, furnished.
Deformed ats it is by exterior hideousness,
Eastwell supplies an excellent iustance in
favor of those practical people who insist
that houses were not made to be looked at,
but to be lived in. The rooms are well
disposed for the purpose of circulat ion, and
those in use every day are on the ground
floor. Dining-room, m usic-room. drawing
roomse, morning-rooms and boudoir are all
en a level, and are therefore deliciously
convenien t and coinfortable, full of air and
light. Two other apartments on the first
floor are of especiil interest to the select
circles visiting it Eastwell. These are
the day and night nurseries, absolute mol0
dels of what such apartments should be.
To begin with, they are of immense size,
perfectly lighted and ventilated, furnished
with light iaple and cane furniture, and
completely free from the stulTness of deep
carpets and rugs. In a corner of the dlay
nursery is t military tent, a birthday pre
sent from his father to Prince Alfred, and
is treasured accordingly. It is a Spartm
kind of an edifice, of gray-striped material,
with a plhin deal table and a stool-the
kind of tent that der alte "ritz, who did
not like dandy ollicers, loved to see his
own ensconced in. Before a brightly-burn
ing tire is one of those good old-fashioned
brass tire-guards, several feet high, and to
the left of this the cots of the four little
children are arranged. The two youngest,
ired with the morning promenade, are fast.
asleep; but the little Prince is obviously
already outgrowing the idea of going to be d
at midday, for he is laughing merrily at the
joke of being tucked up again after htis
glorious run with black "Prince.'' ittle
Princess Marie, with her shower of fair
hair spread over tho pillows and her great
blue eyes only half open, is a delight ful
subject fo: a paieter---a tiny sleeping beauty
in the prettiest of woodlands. '1'his mid
(lay rest is part of the regular programme
at Eastwell, and appears to be successful,
if one may judge by present results, for
finer and heavier children of their age than
Prince Alfred and his sisters could hardly
At. midday the Duke of Edinburgh has
got through his serious reading, and per
haips somc practicing for the family mutsical
party of the evening, and is ready for a
drive round the park, which is beautiful
and Spacious enough to afford ample scope
for any species of out-door entertainment.
In the afternoon friends arrive from the
country side, from London, from Paris and
from tit. Petersburg. Laike the majority of
those who prefer a small circle of friends
to the crowd and noise of large assemblies,
England's Sailor Prince is thoroughly al
preciated by all who know him. lie is
emphatically what is called a quiet man
his taste for music and serious etudi's, he
is completely English in his domestic life.
No man is more pleased with the perfect
working of his establishment-from the
metropolitan inspeector, who, wit it a brace
of constables, keeps watch and ward at
Eastwell to the clerk who attends his pri
vate telegraph oflice. Old habits of disei
pline picked up on the Galatea, and con
firimed by recent experience afloat, cannot
be lightly shaken off, although the sportive
humor of early days may have died out.
Like his brother, the Prince of Witles, the
Duke of Edinburgh likes good things in
reasonable qr.antities, and is a stealy oppo
nent of the termtan custom of turning dinl
ner into a wearisonte ceremony, protracted
beyond all reasonable limit by a cumbrous
menu. At the little dinners at Eatstwell
there is no bewildering number of dishes,
but a good, straightforward bill of fare,
which may be eaten through with perfect
enjoymet.t. flare things, however, ap~pear
at these mtodest banquets--dishes theo niere
metntion of which sets the gourmand tagog
-wvild boiar fromt the forests In whtich Ar
mtinius brought the Rtomant legionts to naught
and sterlet fronm distatnt Volga. The sterlet,
whicht Is to the sturgeon ats a smelt is to a
whiting, arrives on somto lucky (lays at
Easetwell p)i.cked it Ice. Th'le eating of htutn
is a species of celebration, and very good
itd(eed he is when 'aecommnodated' after
the getnuine Rutssiant fashin. As a rule,
music follows dlitner at Eastwell; but at
timets--ont the (lays, for instance, wvhen the
.Revue dea D)cux Afondca arrives-the
D)uchess of Edinburgh, who reads a great
deal int several laniguages, will return to lter
boutdoir, to learn thte last wvords of the
French autthors, whomt she knows as thto
roughly as the Russian poets and novelists
whose wor-ks ar'e to be found wherever sho
is. There are nto late htours at Easrtwell;
the life it which is siply that of the
young p)ar-ents of ant Interesting family, who
find fair qiet and sweet rest among the
Observ'atory Ott Mount Etuna.
The Italian Governmtient, is about to con
struct a large observatory on Mount Etna.
A sIte has been selected at a heIght of
9,6152 feet above the level of flhe sea, near
the Pasta dlegl' Inglesi, so called frott a
butilding erected there in 1811 by the En
glisht durintg thdr oecutpation of SicIly. T1heo
purity of the atmosphere is so great at Its
elevatilon thtat the planets can be observe'd
with the naked eye almost as well as with
telescop)es of low power through the thick
atmnosp)here of towvns. Ventus, when shtininig
alone in the hteavens, casts a disetincet
shtadow. Tis will be the second loftiest
observatory in the wonrd, the UnIted Statcs
sIgnal station at Pike's Peals, In Colorado,
st an elevation of 14,836 feet. being the
Arabinan Proveu .bs.
If your stomach is ntot strong, do not eat
If one cannot build a house, he builds a
A hald-headed person does not care for a
The thread Is quito accustomed to fol
low thle pathI of the reedle.
T1he solo of the foot Is exposed to all the
11th of the roadl.
Tfhe pot-lhd Is always badly off; the pot1
fets the swveet and the lid gets the steam.
Withouit powder a gun Is only a rod,
le who waits for chance wvill htave to
valt a year. ~
HIe whuo marrIes a beauty, marries trou
Thtough a man may mtiss other things, ho
aever misses huis mouth..
We wake, and find mtarkce on the palmi
if our hand, but we know not who madea
hem; we wake, and flnd an oldi debt, and
hant ramaomhar how we Inurred It f
114ealthy and Unhealtity Occupattou
'l'here Is suid to be dust everywhere, but
w lhat constitutes dust is variable material.
Many oceul'ations, the working of libres no
less than the working of metals, develop
dutst and seriously alect the lungs. Iron
often settles theie. A workman, who had
polished iron, died, and his lungs were
found to be hardened and actually one per
cent. of iron in their substance. Urinding,
particularly needle-grinding, is very fatal.
These griners die a the average of 31.
The grinding of other metal products is un
healthy, but to a less terrible degree, and
grinders are proverbially neglect ful or proper
precautions. Making ground glass is a hard
life, and hardly any of the workmen at it
are sound. Thirty-live per cent. (lie of
consumpt ion, and many lose t heir teeth and
suffer virtual lead poisoning. Diamond
cutters are generally sick men. Vegetable
dust is unhealthy, too. The men who pre
pare moulds for castnigs sprinkle them with
powdered charcoal. They have finally a
catarrh with black expectorations, and (ie
of the disease. Millers do inot suffer from
inhaling dust, but they have a singular
skin disease, oftnest affecting the left
shoulder, where they carry meal bags. It
itches at night only, and, according to some
authorities, is not a vegetable matter but an
insect. Making brushes is very bad for the
health, as bits of bristle go into the
lungs. In button making bone dust is not
injurious, but mother of pearl Is, very.
Feather handling Is exceedingly had for
the lungs and throat, and for the eyes, and
arbiticial tlower inkini brings poisoning
with it. Working in copper actually makes
the hair green and the teeth and it. is said
the bones, but it is not. injurious. Copper is
seldom worked alone and what is called
copper poisoning is probably lead poison
ing. Seanst resses s flic ffrom poisoning from
the stuffs they work. They also hurt their
eyes, but the sewing machine, it is now
held, is rather a benefit than any injury if
used only a few hours a day. It is the all
day work at it in had air that has given it
its had name. Tobacco-working involves
a week or two of sickness at first, but this
is overcome, and after it, the wot kmuen are
said to be particularly free from epidemic
disenscs. Ilowever its effects upon women
are said to be permanently had. There is
a great lack of children with them. Bleach
ing is a cause of serious trouble from
eczema, which comes from the hot water
an,d lye, which also gives washerwomen
oracked handsand eczema. Ninety per cent.
of the people employed in preparing suIl
phitto of -quinine are taken down with
severe eczematous troubles'and often high
fever. ''his is a disease that overcomes
new workmen and which they only have
once. Gasmen also have skin troubles
from the violent sweating brought on Ity
the heat, and changes of temperature also
develop rheumatism. There is no bron
chit is or lung troubles among them. The
only way in which mirrors can he made
Is by using silver and letting quicksilver
alone, but considerable can be done in Im,
prove the conttiion of mercury workers If
they can be made to keep clean, and not to
eat in their workshops. Match2s in every
house and every pocket are made at a
terrible cos!. Match-makers (not matri
monial, but material), have their intellects
dulled by the fumes they inhale and suffer
dreadful necrosis of the jaw. No one with
impel fect teeth can make matches and not
loose his jawbone and teeth. Working in
rubber produces "rubber poisoning," which
is accompanied by catarrh and eczema and
is marked by a singular developmtent of
despondency, that leads to dispair and the
abancdonment of the work, after which
recovery conies naturally in. It is a singu
Iar fact that offensive odors are not un
healthy. Tanners are proverbally well. In
chtolcra plaques tanners are exempt.
Butchers hardly ever know what consump
tion is. Even scavengers of the lowest order
are very well, and stables boys aro notori
The lIngonious Elephant.
Thme duke1( of Argyl in his "Reign of Law"
was, 1 think, the first who promulgated the
dictumli that man is the only tool-making
anilmal. As far as I can ascertain, this as
sertion is adhmitted by dievelopmenitists, yet
It is undioubtely true that the Indtiaii eleph
ant, makes two implements, or foroms and
alters certain things so as to adapt them es
pecially to fulfill dlefiniteopurposes, for whichi,
uinaiteredh, they w~oukhi not be0 suitable. One
evening, soon after my arrival in EIstern
Assam, andI while the fiye elephants were as
usual beiing fed opposite the bungalow, I
observed a young and lately caught one step
up to a ban.boo-stake fence, and quietly
pull up one of the st akes. Placing it tunder
foot, it, broke a piece off with its trunk, and
after lifting It to its mouth, threw it awvay.
It repeated this twice or thrice, and then
dlrowv another stake and began agaIn. See.
ing that the bamboo was old and dry, I
asaed the reason of this, and was told to
walt and see what It would do. At last it
meemedl to get a piece that suiitedl, andt hold
lng it in the trunk firmly, and step)ping the
left fore-leg well forward, passed the picce
f b)amboo under the arnipit, so to speak,
mdn b)egan) to scratch wvithi some force. My
iturprise reached Its climax when I saw a
arge elephant leech fall on the ground, quit.
lix machues long and as thick as one's fInger,
mnd wvhich, fromt its position, could not eas
ly be detached without this scraper, or
scratchi, which was deliberately made by
.he elephant. I subsequently found that
t was a common occuirence. Leech scrap
rs are used by every elephant daily. On
mother occasin, when traveling at a time
>I 3 ear when the large flies are so torment
ng to an clephiant, I noticed that the one I
ode had no fan or wisp to beat them off
,vith. Thme mayhnut, at my order, slacken
d pace, anid allowed her to go to the sIde
>f the read, where for some moments shte
noved along rummaging tihe smaller jungle
in the bank. At last she came to a clusto
f young shoots well branched,, and af ter
cing among tb'.sm, and selecting one,
'sised her trtnk and nearly stripped down
lie stem, taking off all the lower branches
nd leaving a fine bunch on top. he do
Iierately cleaned lt down several times, then1
mying hold at the lower end broke off a
ceauti ful fan or switch about five feet long,
adle included: Wh thia she kept the
lies at bay as we went alonig, flapping them
>ff on each side every now and then, Say
vhat we may, these were both really ixmna
ide Implements, ea'ch inter-gently made
di' a definite purpose.
Modesty in your furnituto, equipag
nd words will show than your nin utis
roil rogulated, and your heart free
1OOD FOR THOUGIIT.
There are M hole r:ce" of people who
have Ia genits for wretehudness; It
conwse to 1 Ihem ats at Vocation.
'The real e'ameleon is a sensitivb van
ity, prone to change color with every
chanice of' Surrounding.
The faithful ddischarge of at duty disa
gr:cable to others Imaketli the heart of
the righteous to rejolce.
)ues it rejected lover ever think that
the woinan las done quite mo well for
her own interests ats shte might?
It is better to be doing the most in
signill:aiut, thing in the world than to
reckon a lhalfl' anl hour n1 riglllIiatit.
The loss of friend is like that of a
Ilamb, time ninay heal the anguish of the
wound, but the loss cannot be repaired.
Perverse human natUire makes it com
Imoll to pull down iti man's good name
while he lives and build it up tfter he
'I'hero is nothing so blind as love,
there is nothing so given to seeing. It
will get evet troit heavon to the vision
What young mal of twenty-five is
insinsibie to the pleasure of talaing
wit-it a bright girl ot'seventeen for a lis
Metaphors are often lamps which
light nothling, and mtow oeily nakedness
of the walls against which they are
'I'e body may rest through the sleep
of' the nlight.; but, the pour mind works
as hard li dreams as it. did through the
watketul day. *
Metory can gleam butt, never renew.
It, brings us jny 'al lit as the pert lime of
the flowers, lialdi and dried, of the
sttmnuer thtat, is gone,
Labor without ceasing to do all the
good in your power while time is al
lowed you, for the night will come
whetl no ian can work.
The man who possseR a passionate
and revengefl temper Is deprived of
reason, an! all tlhat is great anid noble
in his taature is suppressed.
Beware of prejuidices; they are like
rat.-t anid tnen's minds ar'e like traps.
Prejndices creep in easily, but it is
doubtful if they ever get out.
Ioti't despise the small talents; they
are needed as well as the great, ones.
A candle is sometimes its useful as the
'lThe greatest evils In life have had
their rise lroi something which was
thotiiht to be of too little Importance
to be attended to.
Wliu yvou are lown-l+earted and the
wvorli looks black to you, you ought to
ba hiospitable enough to entertain a
hope of bueter lays.
It Is. after till, the person who stakeR
the lit,iit. who Loses most. In the ifree
tions this is wholly true. He who risks
notlitig, loses evury.hing.
11hat an argument in favor of social
connectlons is the obserention, that by
oi 01111unicatin our griefs we have loss,
and by comminleting our pleasures
we have more.
Wit loses its respect with the good
when seen In comipauy with malice;
atn1 to sii le at a jest which plants a
thorn in ano'ther's breast, is te become
a principal in the tnishief.
The end( of satire is the amenidment
of vices by cot rutptioi ; and he who
writes hloiestly is no more an offender
thnn the physician to the patient when
lie prescribes harsh romuellea.
If love 11(1 aftee ion could be won
wit.h gifts and jewels, then Indeed love
wouhl have Its price; but It is not so.
Afl'eetion springs from the heart, only;
no gif's can proc.uce it. A child's love
Is woni moret' tr'uly h)y ai parenCit's fondl
etmbrace and kiss than wilth glittering
lIe who conmes fron the kltohen
smells of' its smoke; he who adheres
to ia sect. hast someithinug of lts-eatnt; theo
college airt purisues the student, anid
dry lihuanuity him 'rho herds with
Let us5 tive as1 men whao are sometime
to grow l, and to whom It will be the
most dreadful of all evIls to count their
patst y'eara by loirmer iluxuiance of
hecalth onuly by the matladles wvhich rIot
has priodu Lce.
G3ood words do umore than hatrd speech
es; as fthe stanbeamis wvithout any noIsg
wIll malike tihe tr'aveler citst oir his cloak
wvhich all1 the blusterling wvind could
ntot do, but only make lhim bend It clos
er to hun11
Th'le damps of autumn sink Into the
Leaves antd prepuare them for the naees
shy of' their falli; anid thtus Insensibly
tire we, as years close around us, do
htchied from our tenia-.Ity of' life by the
g~entle pressure of' recoided sorrow.
If you would relish food, labor for it
before you cake It; if enjoy elothing,
pay for it bef'ore you wear It; If yos
woul sleep) soundly, take a cleariOon
solenace to bed with you.
Evil thoughts are worse enemies than
lion18 and tigers, for wve can keep out
of their syay; but bad thoutghits wine
~teir way every where; keel)your head
ind hear't full of good thtoughts, that
bad ones may ftind nto room to enter.
That poliey that enn strike only while
Lhe ironi us hot will be overcome by tha'
serseverance which, like Cromwell's
ian umake the iron hot by strIkIng; and
rio that can only rile the storm must
yield to him who can both raise and
Trhere is gold In the rooks whioh
rrinige the pass of' the kFpinigen, gold
iveni in the stones whieni mornds the
roads5, but there Is too httle.of It to ti
avoirth extracting. Alas! how like too
nany books and sermons. Not so the
mcrptures. They are much finer gold
-their very (dust Is prelious.
In the decline of life, shtame and
grlof are of sh,ort duration; whether It ..;.
>O that we beatr easily what we have
orno lottg, or that, finding ourselves
n age less regard(ed, weo less reAar'd
uthers; ,or, that we look with slight
'eigardl upon affiltions, to whieh we
mnow that the hantId of deoath is about
o put an end.
The life that is devoted.to knowld 'g
asses siontly atway, and Is very lifte
Ilversideod by events. To talk In pub.
ho, to thtihmi In solItude, toe d.si *
ear, to Inquire, and t$ (as*~hQ
Os, Is the business of oJoA \
vanidei'8 about the *rrJ id h~i