Newspaper Page Text
T- -I eB '---- --- .-.
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION . WINNSBORO, S. C., JULY 8, 1880. VOL. IV.-NO. 82.
BE OF GOOD CHEER.
Though tangled hard life's knot may be,
And wearily we rue it,
The silent touch of Father Time
Some day will surely undo it.
Then, darling wait;
Nothing in late
In the light that shines forever.
We faint at heart a friend Is gone;
We ohate at the world's hareh dailling;
We tremble at sorrows on every pide,
At the myriad ways of killing.
Yet Lay we all.
If a sparrow fall,
The Lord keepeth count forever.
He keepeth count, we come, we go,
We speculate, toil and falter :
But the measure to each of weal or woe,
God only can give or alter.
He sendeth light,
He sendeth night,
And change goes on (orever.
Why not take -life with cheerful trust,
With faith iq th4 strength of weakness?
The slenderest daisy roars its head
With courage, yet with meekness. -
A sunny face
Rath holy grace,
To woo the sun forever.
For ever and ever, my darling, yes
Goodness and love are undying;
Only the troubles and cares of earth
Are winged from the first for flying.
Our way we plow
In the furrow "now ;"
But after the killing and growing, the sheaf;
Soll for the root, but the sun for the loaf,
And God keepoth watch forever.
The Aunt's Will.
An old woman,' long a sufferer, lay back
on the cushions of an invalid's chair, while
before her stood a young girl, whose face
showed signs of sympathy with her suffer
"Aunt Jane, you're not comfortable."
"Who told you I wasn't?" said the little
shrivelled old lady, as she fairly glared at
"I know you're not," said Edith, pa
tiently. "Your chair wants to be raised a
little more. Shal II-"
"No, you shan't I Go and tell Ann to
come here; she shall fix me comfortable."
' Edith rose to obey, walking out of the
room with a perfectly calm face, and her
head was as erect as ever.
"Uniph," said Jane, looking after her,
she's a smart one-she knows just whliht I
want. Sometimes I think she means what
she says-that she really loves me and
wants to show it; but bah, what an old fool
1 am I she has the same smooth, slippery
ways of her father. He could work his
way Into anybody's heart; lie did into. my
poor sister's and afterwards broke it. Edith
can do the same-work her way Into any
body's heart; but she won't into mine-she
won't into mine I A penny of my money,
any more than will keep her from utter
starvation, she'll never handle. Ann shall
be the fine lady, and Edith will have to
work-work Is good enough for her father's
daughter," said the old lady, shaking with
Ann and Edith were orphan nieces of
Jane, left to her care by two nisters.
Edith's mother, before her marriage, was
Jane's favorite sister; but she didn't marry
to suit Jane, and to the latter lady's entire
satisfaction, the favorite, but never-to-be
forgiven husband, turned out to be a very
He came to a sudden end himself, after
sending his wife" to an early grave, and
Aunt Jane took little Edith, to educate and
make a lady of her, as her mother was be
fore her,and then to leave her almost penny
less, and send her. adrift on the world to do
for herself because she was her father's
"What can I do fq,r you, aunty dear ?"
"Don't you see anything that you can do
for imc ?" said irritable Jane. "D)on't you
sec 1 am ~not com ortableo? The back of
my chair wants raislaig. Strange that she
could see it I'
Ann's pretty, wvax-doll face wore a very
humble, grieved oxpression.
"Aunt, my papa was not a sharper. If
I have not Inherited a faculty fcr seeing
ever thing so that I can play-my points, I
can't help it.
"There, there, child ; I know there is
nothIng tricky about you. R~aise my chair,
and then you may go."
The very humble, grieved expression
died out of Ann's face, and there was a
sneer In the smile that flitted over it as sne
stood behind Jane's chair.
- Ann made b great show of affection for
her at times, but Edith placed no value
upon it, for she know just what it was
worth; she knew that Ann was selfish, (10.
ceitful, caring for nobody on earth but her
Poor Edih loved her aunt, and craved
her love in return.
She never blamed Jangfor being preju
diced against her; she only allowed herself
to think how good the 01ld lady had been to
1hcr; she felt so grateful for her home and
"Edith," said Jane, -when Edith~ re
turned to the room, "I thought you said
my chair was too low. I'm very uncomn
fortablo since Ann raIsed it." And Jane
fidget< dJ about.
"It is raised just a trifle too high," said
"Oh, of eourse; you think Ann never
does anything righi," snapped Jane.
While aunt Jane was talking, without
asking her permission, Edith turned the
screw of the chair half way, and placed
the hard-to-be-pleased old lady at her ease.
" Never a word against Ann," murmured
Jane to herself and when Edith was leav
ing the room, she called :
Edith turned quickly, for she detected a
mildness in her aunt's tone that was never
there before when she aihdressed lier.,
"Nothing; you may go," said Jane, .as
if Ahe had bravely conquered hdi' better
Ann was standing on the balcony when
a splendId pair of horses wore drawn up at~
Ihe gate, and a -handsome young -'man
handed Edith out of hus wagon.
* He held her hand longer thtan ho ought
to, Ann thought, and the expression of lis
faco, as lhe bent his head and said1 some
thing in a. low voice to Edith, set Ann's
heart beating wildly with jealousy.
Ann was la love with Henry Jones, the
gehtleman who had juust now driven away
from the gate.
Mr. Jones was a gentleman who made
very frequent -visit, of late
Ann attributed those frequent thuats to
herself. but that look on lise face when he
held Edith's hand just now, and the happy
expresasion on Edith's face, there was no
"But, never wind, she'll never have him
if I can help it," thought Ann, as she pre
pared herself to meet Edith.
"Mrs. Anson, now I'll give you prcof
that what I've been telling you about Ann
Is true I" cried old Lucy, Jane's house
keeper and adviser, burstlig into the
room. " Let me traw your chair over to
the window. Lean your head out, a little;
the girls are talking on the balcony below."
"You are a deceitful creature, you are V"
It was Ann speaking in angry tones, and
Edith listening Intently.
"You know you are deceiving Henry
Jones; you are making him believe that
aunt will do ha.dsomely by you; else he
never would have proposed to you. Mrs.
Horner told me that he dare not take any
but a rich wife home to his lady mother."
"Ann, I told him that you were aunt's
favorite; that when she died you were to
have everything, I nothing. le said that
made no difference to him. I told him I
knew better; that I kr.ew a poor wife would
stand in the,way of his worldly prospects,
and it was because I loved- him truly that
I couldn't marry him. He wouldn't take
that for my final answer, and oh, Ann, I
fee iso happy I I never can be an. thing. to
him perhaps but It Is so nice to have some
one love me I Don't grudge me his love,
Ann; you don't know how I prize it I You
have had so much love. Aunt loves--"
"Oh, who cares for aunt's love I The
old thing is only living to torment me. If
she were only dead. and I were only mis
tress here, we would see who Henry Jones
would want to marry I"
"Oh, Ann, how can you speak so of
aunt ? I love her, though she will not let me
show it, for what she has done for me.
How much more ought you to love her I
Think how we might have been thrown on
the world but for aunt's goodness."
"Oh, that's what you're always preach
ing, and much thank's aunt gives you for
It. I never made any bones of saying she's
an old nuisance, and she's going to leave
in all her wealth!"
A week after the above conversation aunt
Jane lay breathing her last.
"And you love aunt, don't you dearie ?"
"You know I do, aunt. I wish I could
be buried with you I" cried Ann, burying
her face in her handkerchief.
"Of course you love me-of course you
wish you could be buried with me; I know
you do I" and Jane's dying eyes fairly glis
tened. "And you, Edith; what are you
standing there so white and silent for I
Why don't you make thne, like Ann I Why
don't you tell me you love me I"
"Oh, if you would only let me, aunt I"
"No, I won't let -you, for I know all
about it; but you may come here and kiss
Edith bent over her aunt; ti old with
ered arms were twisted around her neck,
until she thought she was strangled. .
"When I'm gone you'll understand this,"
murmured Jane; and with her arms about
Edith, she expired.
In duo time Jane's will was openedi and
Ann, who had assumed command oi the
house, had to step down.
All that Jane was worth, with the ex
eeption of a miserable hundred dollars a
year for Ann, was left to Edith.
Ann's feelings can better be understood
Edith was happy; not in the wretched
Ann's downfall, but because her aunt's will
removed the barrier between herself and
Paid His B11 and Went.
A young gentleman who Is very well
known socially In Pittsburg, Pa., Is an In
veterate practical joker. A few days ago,
during a rain storm, he went Into a certain
restaurant ini the afternoon and took a seat
at a table. Tme waiter in charge of the
table wvas a keen-witted, experienced fel
low, and was thoroughly up to his business.
Presenting the customer with a bill of fare,
the waiter stood respectfully behind his
chair to take thro expected order. The
ydung gentleman leisurely looked over
the list of edibles and drinkables. and
then half turning around, lie said, drawl
"Give me an umbrella and a dollar and
a half I"
The waiter stared at tire customer and
then exclaimed: "Beg pardon, sir I What
did you say you wanted ?"
"Bring me an umbrella and a dollar and
a half," was the nonchalant reply.
A twInkle appearedI In the waiter's eyes,
but lie merely bowed and sali: "Yes, sir.
All rIght, sir I"
A hurried conference took place between
tire waiter and the proprietor, during wIch
there was considerable snickering and grin
ning. The custonmer sat perfectly quiet,
with a grave, impassive look upon his face,
which was not disturbed by thre return of
the waiter with three silver half dollars on
a platter, and a dingy, tattered old gingham
umbrella, which he placed beside the guest's
"Anything else sir?" said the wait,er
"Yes, bring me a cup of coffee."
TUhe coffee arrived, was soon finished and
then the waiter laid a chreck beside thre
empty cup. On the check was written
Tire young gentleman looked at tire um
brella, tried to count the nmnber of holes
in it, but failed, glanrced at tire immovable.
countenance of tire waiter, put on Iris hat,
seratched lisa chin meditatrvely,paid his bill
and went out.
New Miod of Obtainling bound Castings,
Tire soundness of castings is very much
impaired by blow-holes or hionoycombing,
caused by the gas in the metal. A valuable
process for expelling this gas lha boon de
vised, that of exposing It to a vacuum, in a
state of minurte subdivision. For this pur
pose tire molten metal is run through per
forations in a block of fire-clay, into a
cylinder withinr which a vacuum Is main
tained by means of an air-pump. By thus
subdividing the metal and disch.a'-ging it In
the form of metalilic rain, the gases are
separated and drawn away. Tire mold for
the recept on of tire molten metal may be
placed within the cylinder or vessel in
which tire vacuum is maintained.
CGaRn ialics will kill lice on rose
bushes withoita injufringj the plaits. I
have tried it in many i nst.ances with
It is right to bo contented wirh what
summer Exeursions via Fennsylvanla
Summer excursions, long or short, are
now necessities of American life. All
classes Indulge In these relaxations from
business during the Summer months. The
rich extend the time to months the
poor content themselves with a much
shorter withdrawal from the stoie, the
manufactury or the workshop. To fostgr
and encourage this feeling, the various
railroads of the country have inaugurated
Summer excursions to the sea coast, the
mountain top, the shady valley and the
quiet rural sections of this great country.
Foremost among the Summer -excursions
looth for variety of location, the cheapness
of fare, and abundance of natural scenery,
are those gotten up. and managed by the
Pennsylvania Railroad. All tastes can be
gratified by these trips over the stem line
of the Pennsylvania Road and its numer
ous branches. Eight hours ride from
Philadelphia brings the traveler to Altoona
and Cresson Springs, in the Allegheny
Mountains, and the famous Bedford
Springs are reached by the Pennsylvania
Railroad to Huntingdon, and thence by the
Huntingdon and Broad Top Railroad to
Bedford. Leaving the main line at Har
risburg the route of the traveler leads north
ward over the Northern Central and Erie
Railroads to the mountain resorts of Ronovo
and Kane, to Watkins' Glen, and the many
pictursque localities in the vicinity of
Beneca Lake, all reached from Philadel
phia by express trains with luxurious Pull
man palace cars. Delaware Water Gap,
a most pictureque and delightful retreat
from the heat of Summer is reached via
Trenton and the Belvidere Division. of the
Pennsylvania Road, which runs along the
Delaware river, and presents a constantly
changing panorama of enjoyable views by
land and water. By leaving the main line,
a hundred other points can be reached,
where repose, comfort and health can be
abtained by all classes. At the same time
all the most popular and attractive sea-side
resorts on the Jersey Coast can be readily
and pleasantly reached by cars on the
Pennsylvania Railroad. At the depot of
the company, in West Philadelphia tour
ists from inland localities will find cars
In waiting to transfer them-at a cost of
six cents-to the depot at the foot of Mar
ket Street, from which point Cape May,
Atlantie City, Beach Haven, and Seaside
Park may all be reached within two hours
and withott change of cars. The traveler
continues his journey from the West Phila
delphia depot to Sea Girt, Spring Lake,
Ocean Grove, and Long Branch, all of
which points are also reached in about the
same time and without change of cars. In
this way a vast extent of country, richly
endowed with all natural charms and
health giving properties, is opened to the
enjoyment of persons of even moderate
means. The excursion rates are most
moderate, and cover such a period of time
as will satisfy even the most exacting, and
living accommodations, at all points, can
be obtained in such shapes as to tit all pur
ses. Thle Summer excursion programme
of the Pennsylvania Rhilroad was never so
extended, encircling and complete as for
the summer of 1880, and no doubt the
travel will be correspondingly enlarged.
When a person can eujoy a Summer vaca
tion on the mountain or by the ocean side,
almost as cheap as living in the City, or in
the Inlaud town, it is folly to tread the
pearls of comfort and health under foot.
This blessing the Pennsylvania Railroad
puts within the reach of all by theirenter
vrise and liberality.
lonas for Five Minutes.
Soon after the dinner hour a specimen
tramp appeared at tie door of a house on
John R. street, Detrdit, and before he could
be ordered off the steps he began:
"Sir, I am a tramp."
"Yes, I see you are."
"But I am not here to ask for either
food, money or clothing. I have just had
a bite, my clothes are good enough, and if
I had money I should get drunk and be
"WVelh, what do you waint 'i"
"There are four tramps down the street,
and I know they will call here. It Is now
five years since 1 began to travel around.
I suppose I have been called a loafer and a
thief and a beat ten thousand times, and I
have been shot at, clubbed, broomaticked
and scalded times without number. Now
I want a change."
"W ell, all I ask Is that you will let me
represent your house when those tramps
This was agreed to. Ho sat down on
the steps, removed hig hat, lighted the
stub of a cigar and wasareading a circular
when the four fellows slouched up andi en
tered the yard.
'What In Arkansas do you fellows want
In my ya'rd?"
"Suthin' to eat," was the humble re
"Something to cat. Wnmy you misera
ble, thick robbed cadavers, go and earn it,
then! Do you suppose I have nothinig to
do but keep a free hotel for loafers ?"
"Can't get work," mumbled the biggest
of the lot.
"Old you can't? Been looking all
around. I suppose? Everybody got all
the lie p lhe wants, eh ? Want to be
cashiers and confidential advisers, don't
"Nobody gives us a show," growled the
"'That's it! That's your cue! Nobody
will take you in with your old rags and
dlirt and sore heels and wep over you,
and. ask you please 1he good, and put you
In the parlor bedroom and fed you on
chicken brothi IIow awful it Is that you
can't be put on ice andI laidi away where
you won t melt!"
"Will you a:lve us something ?" lupu.
dlently demanded time fourth.
"Wll I? You are just right 1. will! P'11
give you five seconds to get outside thme
gate, and I'll toll you in addition that If I
ever see you in this neighborhood again
l'll tie you into hard knots and lure a sore
eye.l dog to bite you to dheathi Git
up and giti Move on-hurry-out with
They shuffled out as fait as they could,
and when they had turinedl the corner thme
tramp put on his hat, put out lis inch of
cigar for another smoke ajnd said to the
gentlemen: dn eagetfvr n
"You have dn eagetfvr n
I am grateful; I already feel bettor for the
change, and I solemnly believe that if I
could only have got an excuse to throw
'em over the fence I should have been
ready to refoi-m and start out as a lecturer!
Good by. I shall never forget your kind
Scattered along the hillsides and in the
valleys of Arkansas, hre atunerous wretch
ed lit tIle hovels that afford a show of slielter
to the indigenous population. Take a
specimen. ibstanas perhaps six feet square,
a rude hut of rough boards supposed to be
placed in a vertiele position, and about the
aine height on the highest side, blt nar
rowing down sone two feet to the opposite
aide. A few bouro!s laid carelessly across
the upper edge from the roof. There is no
door, no window, no chimney. An aper
ture In the side of the huti which is partly
concealed by a ragged, dirty quilt, is the
means of ingress and egress.
- Propped Up Ugainst the outside wall with
sticks of wood is an old table sodden with
dirt and warped by the weather. A gaunt
gray cat sits leisurely lapping water from a
pail that stands upon it. At a little dis
tance two meagre yellow dogs are snapping
and snarling over the contents of a rusty
iron kettle that, recently having (lone ser
vice in cooking the family dinner, is thus
undergoing the cleansing process prepara
tory to the next incal. In the sunshine,
her bare, freckled arms skimbo, stands a
Her faded petticoat hangs in shreads
about her thick bare ankles. Her loose un
buttoned sacque only partly hides the slit
ted waist beneath. As the long shadows
fail on the grass beside her, she looks up,
and pishing back her limp hun-bonnct, dis
closes the sunken, yellow face, the matted
hair and the dull, washed-out eyes of the
female indigene. She is not 4roubled with
diffidence any more than the more culti
vated of her sex, and intimates her desire
for conversalion by the qpestion:
"Say, stranger, kin yo give me the time
'o day ?"
The stranger gives her the time, and,
emboldened by her iriendliness, essays a
glance into the Interior. When his eyes
grow accustomed to the din light emitted
irom the chinks in the walls they discover
the figure of a half-dressed man with ton
seled hair, crouchiig upoti a heap of dirty
rage which form the nuptial couch. He is
chewing lazily, an occupation which he
varies by a skillful frescoing of the oppo
site wall with various designs in tonacco
juice. One or two Police Gazettes pasted
up on the wall come in for a share of the
liquid accoration. A tin wach basin half
full of dirty water sits on a broken-backed
chair, and two or three nondescript gar
ments hang upon the walls. This is liter
ally all the cabin contains.
I 'Do you live here ?" inquires the stran
ger in a tone of incredulity.
Tho man does not vouchsafe a reply.
He is too deeply engaged in. inventing new
fantastics in the decorating line. But the
woman answers, nothing loth.
"'This is just whar we uns dolive, stran
"But you haven't room to turn around.,
"Thar's a heap 'o room out doors,
though," she says In a tone that admits of
That, subject being exhausted the stranger
tried another. -
"You haven't any clildern ?"
"No; we had two, but 'pears tilke some
thin' was the matter with 'em long from
the first. Never was very peart. Reckon
'twas fits, or mebbe worms. Oot a power
ot doctor's stuff for 'em, but 'peared like
they couldn't live nohow. Children's
mighty contrary mortals. Reckon its just
as well they died; they wouldn't nver
have been much 'count anyhow."
"But what do you do for a litmng?"
There was no sign of cultivation, not so
much as a speer of grass nbqut the dwell.
"W1all, he hunts mostly. Sometimes he
gets somethin' and sometimes lie doesn't.
Some days I do right smart 'o washin'
when I feel like it."
"But couldn't' you get regular employ
ment, you,. and earn enough to live more
"We live comfor'bly enough, and we
ain't agoin' to work 'less we're a mind ter.
We ain' niggahs, if we is pore."
'rie last argument was conclusive, and
time visitor walked away sadder, but wiser
from the interviewv after the woman's part
"1 reckon you uins must be from the<
no'thm ?" The charge was meekly admitted.
"I might 'a knowed it," with an inde
scribable inflection of contempt In her
tone. "No'therners never was very smaart
A young lady, when riding from lier
father's country seat to a neighboring vil
lage met a young man oii foot, who was
carrying a jug. She at once reined in her
horse, and asked him what lhe had in time
jug. Looking up with a comical leer, lie
simply winked one eye and smacked his
lips, to indicate that it contained something
goodl. The young lady supposing lhe meant
alcohol, immediately began to talk temper
ance. but lher auditor requested time privi
lege of first asking her just one question.
"What is it?"4 slid asked.
"It is this," lie re-plied: "why Is my jug
like your side-saddle?"
She could not tell.
"It is because it. holds a gal-on,'' said
'"What trifling I" exclaimed the imndig
nant young lady, and then continued:
"Young man, do you not perceive-"
"Just one more question," interrupted
lher auditor, "and then 1 am done. Why
Is my jug like the assembly-room of a
female seminary at roll call?'
"I am sure I do not know," petulantly
rep)lied time young lady.
"Well, its because it is full o' lasses,"
said the ineorrigible auditor.
'rThe fair lecturer touched her spirited
horse with the whip, and was soon out of
hearing of the rude young man.
Recently a thunderstorm of extraordinary
severity swvept over the Mlark Biranden- I
burg, in Ger-many, from Kanersdorf to
Koepenick, and several house, in that dis- I
trict were struck by lightning. Among themni
was the parish church of Fuernsterwaldo, a I
market town not very distant from Berlin,
Strange to say, the electric fluid shatteredA
thme altar of this venerable antiquity, and
partly exposed a treasure burled theroun- I
decr centuries ago by a l'russian prelate
upon time oc4casiopn of a conflagration that 4
laid Fauernstenwalde in ashes, with a,1
view to providing the means of rebuilding'
the town, should a shnllar calamity beftala
it In time to come. This treasure, con- I
sisting of golden and silver bars, has beein I
rqmnoved from the place in which It has t
been concealed for so many years and I
deposited in the District State Exchiuer
Officee, until the competent authorities shall
decide whiqt is to be done with it.
This creature is supposed to be the origi
nal of the mermaid. It is indeed a curious
animal. For eyes it has circular apertures
which can neither remain wide open nor
shut up tight, but are constantly contract
ing and expanding, perhaps at the will of
tihe manatee, though apparently of their
own motion. For nose it has two holes with
lids, and when it rises to the surface of the
water for breath the lids open, and wheu It
sinks again they shut. The earholes are
too Bmall to be seen without keen search
ing, and are s'nmply such holes as might be
made anywl eri with a gimlet. For mouth
it has an op ni ig with a flap over it, con
venient as pr3venting things from going
down its tb. oat when the owner Is not hun'
gry, but sufficiently ugly to make the man
atee the most -humble of creatures ; and
humble, indeed, it looks. Having no legs, it
stands on its tail, and to keep its balance
has to bend time head forward and bow the
body. In this attitude of helpless humility
the strange thing stands motionless many
minutes together, and then, with a ghost
like dreadful solemiilty it begins slowly to
stiffen and straighten its tall, and thus
gradually arising into an erect posituro,
thrusts its uiostrils above the surface. But
only for an instant, for ore it seems to have
had time to take a breath, the great body
begins to sink back it into its dispondent
position, and the small paddling paws drop
motionless"mnd helpless as before. The de
liberate sloth with which the mancuvre is
executed has something of dignity in it,
but otherwise the manatee is as ridiculous
as It is helpless. The clumsy snout is con
stantly twitching like a rabbit's, but the
gesture that seems so appropriate in the
nervous, vigilant little rodent is Iinica
surably ludicrous in the huge monstrosity.
The eyes, again, now contracting to a pil's
point, now expanded full to gaze at you
with expressionless pupil, seem to move
by a mechanism beyond the creature's con
trol. Voiceless and limbless, the bulky
Detacean sways to and fro, the very em
bodiment of stupid. feeble helplessness, a
thing for shrimps to mock at and limpets to
grow on. A carcase - of such proportions,
3uch an apalling contour, should, to satisfy
Lsthetic requirements, possess some stu
pendous villany of character; should con
.eal under this inert mass of flesh sonic
hideous criminal instinct. Yet this great
5hapeless being, this terror of tile deep sea,
is the most innocent of created things. It
lives on lettuce. In its wild state it browses
flong the meadows of the ocean bed, crop
ping the seaweed just as kine graze upon
.he pastures of earth, inoffensive and socia
ble, rallying as cattle do for mutual de
rence against a common danger, placing
hme calves in the middle, while the bulls
range themselves on the threatened quar
ter. These are time herds which the poets
fnake Proteus and the sea gods tend, tile
larmless beeves with whom the sad Par
tenope shared her sorrows. These are the
actual realities that have given rise to so
many a pretty fiction, the dead carcase
from which have swarmed the bees. ''lie
discovery is disappointing enough to those
who cherish old-world fancies; but to
science, time lazy, uncouth manatee Is a
precious thing. Science, indeed, has sel
diom had such a pleasing labor as the ex
amination and identification of this animal,
for, though so ludicrously simple in appear
ince, the manatee is a veritable casket, of
physiological wonders. It is the only crea
ure known that has three eyelids to each
eye and two iearts. In most of its points
it bears a close aflinity to the elephant, but
n other of equal importance it is unmnistak
tbly a whale. Its "teeth," bones and skin
tre all delightful studies to time naturalists,
nd he is thankful, therefore, that the
nanatee is what it is, and not the veritable
normaid that less proRaic minds would
Feeding tie Dead.
A Chinaman was burled at Philadelphia,
a 1875, and four times a year his surviving
ountrymen there visit his grave to "1 eedi
he dead." A recenmt visit of thmis kind is
hus described: The first prehmninary was
lie removin)g of all "Mehican" clothing.
is they had come cinwralped in time flowving
>lue dIrillinig gown and trousers and time
lothm-soled shoes worn by all good Cinma
mnen, ttme only article necessary to dlispenise
vith was the hat. Thmey then uncoiled
hmeir hong pigtails and carried their wvel'
Ililed provision hmamp)er to time grave. Cere
nony number one consisted of a sort of in
rocation. In perfect time and drill tihe
nourners lifted their arms from their sides
o a horizontal position, then above thmeir
leadis, when they chipped thmeir hiunds and
ittered a hugh keyed grunt,. Th'lis wa.s
lone several times. Tme chmef priest thmen
>rodmiced ai package of sheets of tissue pa
ier, about thr~ee inches square, each of
vhich bore incriptions ini Chinese chmarac
era. Trhese eachm were suipposmed to rep)re
ent a sin committed against one of time
nanmy deities of time Biuddhist faithi. Trhey
vere burnmed, one by onme, each of time cele
>rants takinig turns in lighting thmem. When
lie last hmad been burned 'nother inroad
uas made uiponm the hamper and a chicken
mnire, excep)t as to its feathers. was brought
mut ; also four cups andl saucers andi as
nany plates, all of which were laid on a
mapor tale-cloth placed elm the grass. A
Lnife similar in shape to thmose used by
Imoemakers speed(ily dissected time fowl, aiid
fragmment was placedl on each lAhte. The
ups were filled ouit of a large wicker hot
he whmich containedi sonmothing like tea.
)ranges were also produced, and time three
lying Chinamnen wentsolemnly through time
ormi of eating, time ghost p)resuimably keep
ng timem conmpany. Th'le living baniqueters
peediliy emp)tied their cups and disposed of
lie oranges. Seemihngly arWakened to time
act that their invielbie guest was not getting
hroughm withm his share as rapidly, they
>oured thme tea fromi his cup amid what re
namned in thme bottle oni time feet o.f the
grave. A bottle of saki, time Chinese whmis
eoy, was also p)ouredi out, none of time liv
nmg feasters partakinig of time liquor. 1 half
(ldozen singu ar-lookingc little tapers>
nountedl en bamboo sticks, were then stuck
a thme mwel.ing turf of time grave and light
ud. T1hese haud two p)rop)erties, smmoke and
mmll. A 'west winid drove bothm into the
aces of the spectators in such vohme that
hmey beat a hasty retreat, and those who
vitnessed the last rite were fortunate
moughm to have found places outski.e the
ine of the breeze. In time midst of time
muoke anid stenchm the faithful Celestials
vent throughm their last posturing, similar
o that of invocation. Thmis done, they
>acked ump time remains of their banqueot and
he (dishies, and, leaving time tapers still burn
ng on the grave, quitted the cemetery.
-The Afghanm war has cost England
O65,000,000 up to this-date,
How to Cure a Cold.
Mark Twain says the first time that I
began to sneeze a friend told me to go anil is
bathe my feet in hot water, and go to bed. 01
I did so. Shortly after, a friend told me
to get up and take a cold shower bath. I er
did that also. Within an hour another ar
friend told me it was policy to feed a cold
and starve a fever. I had both; I thought w
it best to fill up for the cold, and let the iin
fever starve awhile ; in a case of this kind
I seldom do things by halves; I ate pretty oV
heartily. I conferred my custom upon a in
stranger who had just opened a restaurant
on Cortlandt street, near the hotel, that so
morning, paying him so much for a meal.
Ile waited near me in respectful silence
until I had finished feeding my cold, when at
lie inquired whether people about New
York were much afflicted with colds. I
told him I thought they were. He then nq
went out and took in his sign. I started
up toward the office, and on the walk en
countered another bosom friend, who told P1
me that a quart of salt water would come or
as near curing a cold as anything in the
world. I hardly thought I had -room for do
it, but I tried It anyhow. The result was
surprising. I. believe I throw up my whole
interior. Now, as I give my experience ho
only for thu benefit of those of your friends
who are troubled with this distemiper, I
feel that they will see the propriety of my
cautioning them against such portions of It w
as proved inelficlent with me : and acting W'
upon this conviction I warn them against
warm salt wator. It may be'a good enough ill
remedy. but I think it is rather severe. If th
I had another cold in the head, and there Ol
was this course left me-to take either an
earthquake or a quart of warn salt water, st
I would take iy chances on the earthquake. so
After this, everybody in. the hotel became all
interested ; and I took all sorts of remedies
-hot lemonade, cold lenonade, pepper- on
tea, boneset, stewed Quaker, hoarhound l1
syrup, onions and loaf sugar, lemons and iN
brown sugar, vinegar anut laudamnu, five '
bottles fir balsan, eight bottles cherry pec- hK
toral, and ten bottles of Uncle Sain's reme- irc
dy, but all without effect. Onie of the pre- It
scriptions given by an old lady was-well, lif
it was dreadful. She mixel i decoctioiI
composed of molasses, catnip, peppermint, pa
aquafortim, turpentine, kerosene, and vari- so
ous other drugs, and instructed tie to take a bu
wineglass of it, every fifteen minutes. I R
never took but onie dose; that was enough.
I had to take my bed, and remain there for tli
two entire days. When I felt a little bet- fol
ter, more things were reconimended. I Is
was desperate, and willing to take anything. wt
Plain gin was recommended, and then gin bi
and molasses, and theza gim and onions. I
took all three. I detected no particular re. mc
sult, however, except that I had acquiredt a"U
breath like a turkey-buzzard and had to sl
change my boarding place. I had never re- rel
fused to1 a remedy yet,aid it seenled poolr p1o- lie
icy commence then; therefore I determined
to take a slieet-bath, though I had no idea on
what sort of an arraugenient it, was. It ilk
was administered at midnight, and tihe In.
weather was very frosty. My back and by
breast were stripped; and a sheet (there ap- "I
peared to be a thousand yards of it) soaked
in ice-water was wound around me until I tie
resembled a swab for a coluimblad. It Is wl
a cruel experiment. When the chilly rag in(
touches one's warm flesh, it makes im Ui4
start with i 8uldde violence, and gasp for v
breath, just as men do in the death agony.
It froze the marraw in my bones, and an
stopped the beating of my heart. I thought Of
my time had come. When I recovered WI
from this, a friend ordered the application wI
of a mustard plaster to my breast. . I be. of
lieve that would have cured me effectually, Of
if it had not been for young Clemens. lie
When I Went to bed, I put tihe mustard -
plaster where I could reach it When I should Oil
be ready for it. But young Clemens got t<i
hungry i the night and ate it up. I never Lili
saw any child have such an appetite. I am nj
confident that lie would have eaten me If I uJel
hiad been healthy. Lii
I see Diut Two.
"Billy Campbell," as lie is familiarly ou
called, made miuch and saved little money, a
ror lie had no idea of its value, lie in
dorsed for everybody, andI if he went out i 4
into the street wIth a pocket full of Lih
change lhe would return without a cent, an
having given something to every bugger he
One day, the shieriftf, in reply to Mr. prm
Damnpbell's qIuestion. "What's the news ?" mii
said, "Nothing new, sir, but this. I am pe0
iorry to say. I h)ad to sell out your house
rnd lot for the dlebt you owed as security to l
"'Oh, that's nothing," answered Camp. we
bell; "the plroperty is iiot lost; it has only its
Mr. Campbell was ani easy going bache- an
or, andi hmad the reputation of being one ma
>f the most slovenly dressed lawyers in thme noi
State. On one occasioni as lie was about qui
leaving home to attend the legislature, his eor
dlater informed himn that she had packed a
tiozen new shirts in lia trunk. .3f
"Now, brother," said shio, "(10 be more noi
particular about your dress, and don't for- eVt
get to put on a clean shirt, at least, twice a (aLu
week. It Is very mortifying to have you L Sl
go about looking so dirty."
On his return home at the close of the die
iession, she congratulated him upon his sof
hearty appearance. ,or:
"Whly, you have grown as fat as a pig," fLeI
she remarked; "they must have fed you "re
well at the capital I" '
"Yes, they take good care o' us," lie ro. io
plied, "for they are always in want of some em
L,ooking into her brother's trunk, and 40C
llnding but two shirts, she called out: Lhe
"Whore, brother, are all those now shirts hie
[ gave you?" 'l
"Don't you find them in the trunk ?" ve
"No, i see but two." 'ar
"Possibly I may have sonme on me." v
An examination disclosed that lie was i
wearing six shirts, a f .01 which acecounted 'u
[or his apparent imp)rovement in ileah.
, , eat
Feeding the Ntoracs.
For fast drivIng, oats may he the best a~
food for horses; but we ho0ld to the old
rashioned mode of feeding horses, which i
was generally in vogue from forty to sixty .0,
years ago, and is still so among a great ,y
many p)bople. even livery stable-keepers; ,eg
that is, regular feeds of bran and short cuti
straw, mixed with a suflcient quantity of in'
water to make it palatable, half a dozea at
ears of corn peor horse daily, and plenty of tai
good hey. Wehavo known whole stables men1
full of horses to keep in the most perfect r,ha
health, and capable of doing the hardest ii'o
work a horse can be put to, by this . mode lVoi
of foedin;. . : .
FOOD FOR THOUGHT.
No principle is more noble, as there
none more holy, than that of a true
The necessities that exist are in gen
al created by the superfluities that
It often happens that those of whom
3 speak least on earth are bestknown
Unhappy is the man for whom his
en mother has not made all other
Hop is like the wing of an angel,
aring up to heaven and bearing our
'ayers to the throne of God.
There is always hope In a man that
tually and earnestly works.
Whenever you find a man who has
thing to do you will notice that he Is
ual to the task.
It is easy to run down the accom
Ishments of your neighbor, but hard
to run ahead of them.
It Is a great deal better to do a kindly
ed to a man when he is living than
weep over him when he is dead.
A clear conscience is like a corner
Everybody would like to have it,
t few are willing to pay the price.
If we were all permitted to vut our
rn valuation on ourselves there
mId not bo a low priced man in the
Phe man who acts on impulse will
d himself when near the goal just
roe paces behind the man who acts
iiseries come unbidden and alwa a
ky too long while joys must be
ught for and when found are apt to
p away unawares.
[lere is a Y( rr serious question for
r nioralists:-[r a man is as good as
i word and hid word Is good for noth
g how good is he?
I'lie man who at the end of this life
s a rceilpt in full of all dematids
mkinen, will have more than an ordi
ry amount of credit to begin the next
Knowledge can be acquired without
in and application. It is trouble
no, and like digging for pure water;
t when once you come to the spring,
1i8es up to meet you.
lhe beginning of hardships is liko
first taste of bItter food-it seems
a moment unbearable; yet, if there
nothing else to satisfy our hunger,
take another bite and find it possi
to go on.
flhatever facilitates our work is
ire than an onion ; it is a cause of
ceoss. This is one of those pleasing
rprises which often happen to active
Wiutions. Many things d)lllcult to
iign prove easy to perform.
Ve ought always to deal Justly, not
ly with those who are just to us, but
owise with those who endeavor to
ture us; and this, too, for fear lest,
rendering them evil for evil, we
muld fall into the same vice. t
[n lorming a Judgment, lay your
irts void of foretakon opinions; else,
Iintso-ver is done or said will be
iasured or sald'by a wrong rule; like
nm who have the Jaundt'4, to whom
irything appeareth yellow.
go language can express the power
Li beauty and herismt And Majesty
a mother's love. It shrinks not
tcre man cowers, and grows stronge.
tore man faints and over the wastes
worldly fortunes sends the radiance
its quenchless fidelity like.a star in
f thou desire to see thy child virtu
i, let him not see his father's vices;
m canst not rebuke that in children
Lt they behold in thee- till reason be
e, examples direct more than pre
ats; such as thy behavior Is before
children's faces, such commonly la
irs behind their parents' backs.
*Vhen doing what is right, the heart
easy, anid becomes better every day ;
wheni practicing deceit, the mind
ore, and every day gets worse.
.'hie only happiness in this world's
t that is really worth the having, is
happiness which springs up, free
1 unsought, by the wayside of duty.
ome one, has said that sincerity is
aking as we think, believiapg as we
tend, acting as we profess, perfoi-m
as we promise, and being ats we ap..
Ve often esteem in the world those
o do not merit our esteem, and ne
ct pecrsons -of true worth; but the
rid is like the ocean--the pearl is in
depth ; the sea-weed swims.
Ie not diverted from your duty by
r ide reflections the silly world may
ke upon you, for their censures are
in your power, and the.y conse
nitly should not be any part of your
,ook'on slanderers as direct enemies
civil society, as persons wvithout
ior, honesty, or humanity. 'Who..
r entertains you by pointing out the
its of others, designis to serve you in
Lvert your gaze from the erosses of
future, you see them without the
ening, sustaining grace which ao
ipatnies them when thiey roach you.
all your off irts tend to bearing the
5s of the present moment.
'lie history of the world teaches us
lcessoni with more impressive sol
nity than this; that t1he only safe
ird is a pure heart; $bat evii no
nor takes possessmon of the heart
n it fully commences the conquest of
'hie most careful education in the
rid can only direct for the time; it
not change the inner current by
ich we shape our course. We maust
mnake or' mar ourselves by that self
ication, that moral choice of good or
I. which is the real individuality of
V iatever instruction is reaped from '3
tory may be reaped from a nov(s
mor, which' is thie history of the .
cld for one day. It is the history' of
t worild in whioh we now live, Etmd
h whi>mh we a', d6insequnty mr
corned than withi s~e whi h l1iate
sod away, and~61~St in eiem
'raise in the ri h'I~A k ight . &
e, is a wonderfu hs I figh t
the daiy life, an a 'seet s the '
ly task. It imploes ch a 0a
seof apprehiiio amid re n ;
we are none o ustb