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TR1-WEEKLY EDITION. W1NNSBORO, S, C.. SEPTEMBER Jo, 1881. ESTABLISHED 1865.
THE OLD FARCMECR'S ELEGY.
On a green grassy knoll, by the banks of the brook,
That so long and so often has watered his flock,
The old farmer resta in his long anti last sleep,
While the waters a low, lapsing lullaby keep.
le has ploughed its last furrow, has reaped his
No morn shall awake hitn to labor again.
You tree, that with fragrance is filling the air,
So rich with its blossoms, so thrifty and fair,
By his own hand was planted ; and well didi lie say,
I would live when its planter had mouldered away.
lie has ploughed his last furrow, has reaped
his last grain;
No morn shall awake film to labor again.
There's the well that he lug, with its waters so
With its wet, dripping butcket, so mossy and olud,
No more from its depths by the patriarch drawn,
For the " pitcher is broken," the old inan Is gone.
lie has ploughed his last furrow, has reaped his
No morn shall awake lilin to labor again.
'Twas a gloon-giving day when the old farmer
The stout-hearted motrned, the affectionate cried;
And the prayers of the just for his rest did ascentti,
For they all lost a brother, a man and a friend.
lie has plouglied his last furrow, has reaped )its
No morn'shall awake him to labor again.
For upright and honest the ci'a farmer was;
Ills God he revered, he respected the laws;
Though faineless lie lived, he has gone where his
Will outahihe, like pure gold, all the dross of tilis
lie has ploughed his last furrow, ltgs reaped his
No morn sha!' " wake him to labor again.
The sun had dropped behind the tall
towers of St. George's twin-steepled
church, the soft Juno twilight was set
tling, like an impalpable veil of liquid
amethyst, over all the little apartments,
and Daffodil Grey stood at the window,
carelessly toying with the geranium
leaves, that gave out a sweet, pungent
fragrance to the bouch of her fingers,
It was just six months, this day, that
she was married-six months since she
had left the old farm in Chester county,
and caie to the great city to live.
''You'll be desperately homesick!"
Auit Jooasta had said, with a solemn
shako of the head.
"Not with John!" she had rcsponded
"Just fany," groaned Aunt Jocasta,
"exchanging all. these fields and hills
for a city flat" -
"Every one lives in flats nowadays,"
Daffodil had rotorted; "and John says I
shall find things very convenient."
"Humphi" said Aunt Jocasta; "I
never was in love myself, but I've been
told that people who are, would believe
anything. I suppose John is law and
gospel to you now!"
"Of course," said -Daffodil, laughing.
So ihe had married the young hero of
her hopes and dreams, and gone to the
great, crowded city to live. And the
at had been Arcadia to her-that is,
just at first, when the honey-moon was
in its first glow, and all the world was
transfigured with the light that shines
through the h1alo of a wedding ring.
But, of late, Mrs. Daffodil had not
been quite ao happy. She had been
crying, one night,when John camo home
unexpectedly, and there was no time to
dash away the tears.
"My darling," he had ried aghast,
"what is the trouble?"
"Nothing, John-nothing!" she had
answered. "Only-only it is so long
since I placed iy feet on a sod of green
grass. And I was thinking that the old
orchard would be in blossom, just at
this time; and the meadow under the
sassafras 'tree would be all blue with
"Daffodil, are you homesiok?"
"No, John-indeed, no!" she cried.
"Get on your things," said Grey.
"We'll go and walkin the park, and lie
ten to the robin at the bird fancier's,
and try to imagine ourselves back in thio
But Daffodil trying to smile -tsj she
tied her pink bonnet-strings, did not
tell him of the long visit she had from
old Mrs. Mudge, who declared that
"she had al'ys loved John Groy as if lhe
had been her own son," and had pro
ceeded to edify his bride with a circumn
stantial account of all the mischief he
had gottenl into, all the love-tangles ini
wvhieh he had been involved, all the
half-angagomonts into which he hatd
been drawn, until poor Daffodil felt as
if her John Grey' and this gay Lothario
must be two quiet different beings.
"And we all supposed, my dear."
said Mrs. Mudge, comfortably taking
snuft', "that he was to marry Olive Dod
worth the actress, wvhen he up and
brought you home. Dear, dear! what
flirts men are! Ain't they nowv, my
"I-uppose so," said poor Dallodil,
intent upon the stitches of hier st~rip of
"I hope you'll come and see me
often," said Mfrs. Mudge, setting down
her tea-cuip and~ baking upl her big red
"I shall be very happy, t' said Daffo
"And we'll have ever so many nice
confidenitial chats," said Mrs. Muitdge.
"Yes," said Daffodil, faintly.
And after Mrs. Mudge had gone away
poor Daffodil sat and wondered what
made her so wretched. She could hear
some one moving about overhead. Some
one had told her that a young artist had
just rented the top floor of the Fontaine
She wondered vagnely what he was
like, ad whether, lie too, was a human
butterfly lighting on every flower anid
constant to none.
She asked herself whether fat Mr.
Smith, who went out from the suite of
apartments belowv every day with a silk
umbrella under his arm,dyed mustaches
and a~ smoothly-shaven chin, had his
amiable weaknesses likewise.
"I almost wish," said Daffodil to
herself, "that I had remained unmar
ried. Nc I don't either! I-I don't
know what I do. wish!
So, woman-like, Daffodil had begun
But the pleasant twilight walk in the
park, and the melodious whistle of the
robin at thle bird fancier's, had cheered
hae up amain. for the time being.
But she could not he blind to the fact
that Johm was not with her so much as
during the five weeks after their mar
riAgo. Now and again of an evening he
would be absent without a sufficient ox
U80, and, with a smothered pang at her
heart, Daffodil had thought of Olive
Dodworth, the brilliant young actress,
even then playing at one of the niior
"Does he care for her yet?" Daffodil
asked horself; and there caie no satis
factory answer to the query.
And so it 'iappened that to-night, as
she stood among the geraniums, looking
out at the sunsot, she was not quite
"In old times," said this bride of six
months to herself, "John was always
home to take me for a walk in the
twilight. He never thinks of it now.
Were Aunt Jocasta and Mrs. Mudge
right, after all? Was man a delusion,
and life a dreary series of disappoint
As these dispiriting reflections pass
ed through her mind, she was startled
by thq unexpected sound of a footstep
on the floor-a footstep too light and
elastic to be that of her husband.
She turned, and was amazed to see,
in the indistinct light, the tall figure of
a beautiful young lady, richly dressed,
and wearing such a Parisian bonnet as
poor Daffodil had never seen before.
"Pardon me for intruding," said the
lady, with a royal air, "but are these
Mr. Grey's rooms?"
"They are," said Daffodil, summon
ing all the dignity at her control, and
secretly wondering if this might not be
the bete noirc of her thoughts and fan
cies-Miss Dodworth. "But I did not
hear you knock."
"I did not knock," said the nlony
mous fair one, with hauteur.
"I am Mrs. Grey," said she quickly.
"Pardon me," said the lady, "I am
Mrs. Grey. I suspected something .of
this new order of things," wi-th a con
temnptuous curl of her lip, "and I have
came on from Chicago to counteract it."
"Madame," said Daffodil, standing
very erect, although she could feel her
self trembling all over, 'you must be
insane! I was married to Mr. Grey on
the first day of last January."
The lady laughed-a hard, mirthless
"'Indeed!" said she. And'I was mar
ried to him on the 6th of October, two
years ago. Poor child!" as the pallor
overspread Daffodil's countenance, "6I
don't suppose you are to blame, but in
this- hard world we have to auffer for one
another's crimes. Where is he?"
- "I-don't know," faintly admitted
"Humph!" said the lady compressing
her lips. "He is at his old tricks,I see.
Well I can wait. You don't ask me to
be seated, but I shall take that liberty
without your permission."
And she sat down, flinging back the
folds of her rich India shawl, while Daf
fodil watched her with silent dismay.
Was this true? Had Joln Grey really
deceived her? He whom she had loved
so entirely, trusted so infinitely? If this
was really so, there was no truth in all
The shadows gradually deepened; the
clock on the mantel ticked an.busily as
if it were running a race against time
and still the two sat there, silent,speech
less, each dreading, yet longing, to hear
John Grey's footsteps on the stairs.
At last lie came.
Sitting in the dark, pot?" he cried,
merrily, as he crossed to the mantel and
lighted the gas-jet. "I must see your
dear little face, for I have something to
tell you which--"
H~e checked hiimself ' abruptly, for at
that moment he caught sight of the p~ale
beautiful stranger in, the Parisian hat
andl glistening Indian shawl. He turned
"Who is this lady," lhe asked.
"'I do not know her," she answeored.
"Do not ;you?"
''Never saw her before in all my life!"
said Grey, in unfleigned amazement.
Trho lady rose a little nervously.
"'Is-this. gentleman your husbanid?"
she said, the color varying on her cheek.
"Hie is," Daffodil mechanically re
"There is some mistake," said the
straiiger, with visible embarrassmeiit.
"This is not the Mr. Grey I meani. My
Mir. Grey is short anid dark,with a heavy
beard- Richiard Richardson (Grey-andl
The young hiusig"ud struck his hand
on the table, as if an iDea hiad suddenly
occurred to him.
"'With a slight cast ini one eye?" said
lie. "An artist, is lie not?"
"Exactly!'' cried the Inldia-shalwled
"He occupies the suite of rooms di
rectly above us," said lie. ''He moved
in last month."
''Then, said the lady, "'I have mis
takeni the flat. Pray, pray"-to Daffo
But Daffodil oxuld only laugh hysteri
cally, and hide her head on her hus
And not uuntil the door had been closed
behind the strainger, (lid John Grey ex
"Poor follow! I have heard some
thing of this. She torments the life out
of him, with petty exactions and un
founded jealousies. She follows him
around the world like a Nemesis. I'm
glad you are not like her, my pretty
And then lie wvent on to tell his wvifo
howv he had ben working busily all this
time to earn enough, by extra labor at
his profession to buy a little one-storied
cottage, in the suburbs of the city, with
a tinmy garden attached, where there was
an apple tree, a thicket of moss-roses
all in bud, but a little summer house all
braided over with glossy woodbino.
"I signed the papers to-dlay, Daffodil,'
said he. "We can move in next week,
just in time for the roses and straw
berries. D)ear one, I know you have
been homesick for green grass and bird
soiigs all this time, and 13ave longed a
score of times to tell you of all that was
in my minid; but it wvotild have spoiled
this glad. surprise."
And all that Daffodil conl4 say was:
"Oh, JTohn-dear ,John-I am so
From sed11 t) Waterloo.
From Sedan, the grave of the Third
Empire, to Waterloo, the grave of the
First, is but a short day's journey.
Having left Sedan at 8 A. M., this morn.
ing, I have already reached Les Quatre
.Bras with four hours of daylight before
Inc. Leaving the railway at Charleroi,
I there took a oarriage and followed the
poplar-lined highway which leads from
Charleroi to Brussels, through Quatre
Bras and Waterloo. It was by this road
that Noy advanced, while Napoleon,
also starting from Charleroi, took to the
right, that leading through Flourus to
Ligny. At Los Quatre Bras the high
road from Charloroi to Brussels cuts
that from Nivelles to Namur at right
Already on the evening of June 15,
Ney's advanced guard commenced the
attack on the allied position at Quatre
Bras, which at that moment was defend
ed by a ingle battalion of Orange Nas
sauers, commanded by the gallant young
Prince of Weimar, who did such good
servioc on the English left at the battle
of Waterloo. Had Noy continued his
attack he must have carried the position,
but his men were tired, and he believed
that the post was defended by a strong
When the attack was renewed the fol
lowing morning the Prince of Weimer
was strongly reinforced by Dutch and
Brunswickers, whosc Duke, as all the
world knows, was killed here at the hca
of his troops. It was not till the early
part of the afternoon that any English
troops reached the scene of action, the
first to arrive and stem the tide of the
advancing French being the Reserve
Division under Picton, from Brussells,
consisting of Packe and Kemp's Bri
gades. About 5 P. M. Cooke's Division
of Byng's and Maitland's Brigades of
Guards arrived, with Halkett's Brigade,
all by the Nivelles road. No English
cavalry arrived in time to take part in
the action, during the earlier part of
which the F1rench Lancers galloped
clean through the allied position at Qua
tro Bras, and nearly captured the Duke
of Wellington. who had arrived at about
10 A. M., in advance of Picton's division.
The action not having commenced at
that hour, the Duke rode off by the
Namur road toward Ligny to consult
with Blucher, who mounted with the
Duke into a windmill, whence they sur
veyed Napoleon's disposition of his forces
just before the commencement of the
battle of Ligny. From about noon, June
16, to nightfall, the battles of Ligny
and Quatre Bras were fought simultane
ously, resulting in a French victory at
Ligny, and a drawn battle at Quatre
Bras, whore the English passed the night
on the field of battle, the French retir
ing on the village of Frasnes. Had Na
poleon advanced on Quatre Bras at early
dawn on the 17th, and had Ney renewed
hia attack simultaneously, the English
must have been taken between the two
fires and the position carried, As it
was, Napoleon failed to put his army in
motion from Ligny till the afternoon of
the 17th, whiclh gave the English ample
time to retire leisurely on Waterloo.
Captain Siborne, in his well-knowvithis
tory of the Waterloo campaign, relates
that so high was the rye at the battle of
Quatre Bras, that the English infantry
were completely concealed b~y it. I have
just meadured the height of the finest
crop of rye I ever beheld growing on the
Waterloo road, and found it to be seven
In another letter from thme field of
Waterloo, written on the following (lay,
our corresp~ondent says:
In his admirable lectures on the Wa
terloo camp~aign, Colonel Chesney is, as
far a I know, the first English writer
who doces full justice to the importance
of the part played by the Prussians at
Waterloo. .As you approach the flel
from Quatre Bras, about a mile before
reaching La Belle Alliance, you perceive
on your right, lying about 1000 yards
off the high road, a village half concealed
in a wooded hollow, from which the
church spire emerges conspicuously.
T1hie name of this village is Plancenoit,
and round that church took pla1cC the
fiercest and bloodiest fighting which
June 18 witnessed. Between 4.30 P. M.
and 8.30-i. c., in four hours-the Prus
sians lost more men than the English
dluring the whole day, the Prussian lose
in killed and wvounded being about 6,300,
that of the English, exclusive of the
Thlere were, in fact, two h)attles ol
Waterloo-the battle of Mount St. Jear
and the battle of Plancenoit-and Na.
poleon had to (10 with two distinci
armies. It is commonly believed iii
England that the Prussians merely canmc
up at the close of the day, and assisted
the English to crown their victory ; butI
it is tihe fact that Butlow'a corps cam<
seriously into action by 4.80 P. M., ani
that twelve out of the twenty-four hat.
talions of the imperial Guard, b~esidel
Loban's corps and seycral other divisions,
wore detached to Plancenoit, on th<
IFrench extreme right, at the very mo.
mont they were most required to takt
parnt in the assault of the Allied positior
on the ridge of Mount St. Jean in front,
From that ridge of Mount St. Jean,
wheore I am now writing in~ the calm o:
an early summer's morning, the villag<
of Plancenoit is quite invisible, and em
tile day of, the battle the English wver<
quite unaware of the earlier stages of th<
Prussian fighting there. It wa not til
Ziethen's Hussars coming from Wavre
touched the extreme English left on the
Chain road, at about 7 P. M., that the
Duke of Wellington ~received the wel
come intelligence of the arrival of the
Prussians on the field.
Compared with that of Sedan, the
battlefield of Waterloo is on a wonder
fully small scaile, and easily to be appro
londel. At Sedan the circumference of
the field is at least fourteen miles, comi
prising about. a dozen villages, completely
hidden from each other by intervening
heights. At Waterloo the whole fields,
exclusive of the village of Planconoit.,
may be taken in at a glance. The French
position on the ridge of La Belle Alli
anee was but 1,200 yards from that of
the English on the ridge of Mount St.
Jean, and the extreme length of both
positions, from east to west, i. c., from
Sniohaim to Hougomont, was about
2,500 yards. The intervening valley,
which is but a slight depression, was
converted into a quagmire by the tre
inendous rainfall on the afternoon and
evening of the 17th, the ground being
impassable by cavalry and artillery in
the early part of the day of the 18th.
The state of the ground was extremely
disadvantageous to Napoleon's attack,
which was thereby delayed till 11 A. M.
That the Fronoh, with a total force of
about 70,000 men, should have failed to
force the strong position on which the
English, nearly equal to themselves in
numbers, were posted in front, haviig
at the same time to detach about a, third
of the strength to meet. the 35,000
Prussians who fell on their right flank
and took part in the fight of Planconoit,
with 40,000 more Prussians arriving
later on the field, cannot surely be con
sidered any reproach to French valor.
A Leoch Fartm,.
In 1841 Mr. Witte, established a
small leech farm in Kent Avenue, Wil
liamsburg, L. I. In course of time this
small establishment was abandoned, and
one of thirteen acres was established
near Newton, L. I.. and to him the
writer is indebted for the following in
formation and description of the only
leech farm in America. The breeding
ponds consist of oblong squares of one
and a half acres each. The bottoms of
thc:,e ponds are of clay, the margins of
peat. In June the leeches begin form
ing their cocoons on the peat margins
of the pond.
The greatest onemies to the young
leeches are musk rats, water rats, and
water shrews, who dig the cocoons out
of the soft peat breeding margins. Next
to rats and shrews is overheating of the
peat or the water of the pond. In fact,
nothing is so fatal to leeches as a too
high teniperature. Mr. Witte says he
has had leeches frozen in solid ice, but
by slowly dissolved the ice and gradually
increasing the temperature of the wader
the leeches sustained no injury. The
depth of the water in the ponds during
the summer is three feet; in winter time
the depth of water increased to avoid
The leeches are fed every six nonths
on) freshl blood p~laecd ini thin lineni bags,
which are suspended in the water. TPho
leeches, as soon as they smell the blood,
alseembnhle from all parts of the pond, aand
attacehinlg themselves to the outside of
the blag, suck the dissolving coalgulated
blood throughl thle lineni. Digestion pro
coeds very slowly with the leech, during
which time tile blood remnaing undigest
ed in tihe stomach of the leech is in a
fluid state, as if taken ini. The exe
mental deposits are oif a grass-green
color. The bost substance for packing
loeches in is tihe peat of their natural
p)onds made into a staif mud. Water
containing tanninl, tannic acid, limuo,salt,
or birakishi water, must be guarded against
always; ironl is not objectionable, but is
an1 adviant age in smnall qjuanatities.
Thela demanad for ileeche in the last
fewv years hlas somlewhlat fiallon off in tile
Eastern and Southern States. The
Western States and1( California are no0w
the heanviest buyers. Mr. Witte's sales
alone average a thousand a day. The
numiber oif leeches impor'ted into the
United States almouints to about thirty
The custom of strippiang aand salting
leeches, to cause them to (disgorge after
haaving bleen applied, has passed away,
as many welli established cases have oc
curred of infectious diseases having been
commnunicated oil the app)aication of the
same leech to a seconad p~arty. A very
p)opular error' exists that, a leech when
apiplied takes only the hiad 1blood (what
ever that may lie) and rejects the good;
thais is a miatako. With a leech blood
1s 1)1o0(, be It thme cold blood( of a fish or
the warm 1)10ood of a human being, no
matter howv diseased that human being
may be. So long aas blood is not tainted
or p~utridl the leech will thrive on it. A
friend of mind1, whlo was the p~rop~rietor
of a large leechl-breeding establishment
at the foot of tihe H-artz Mounitaina,whlen
wishling to foed his leeches, was ill the
habit of hiring poor laborers, at six
cents per (lay, to stand in the water for
half an hour nearly up to thleir thighs,
that the leeches mighlt obtain a full gor
ging of human b)lood.
In tihe marshy lands of Roumania the
wild leechea are captured by means of
men01 entering the water and allowing thle
wild leeches to fagen on to thleir naked
abodies. Tile lecel fishers then strip~
Saved by Mernads.
Some time ago a colored female adver
tised in the Richmond papers to find her
mother. She claimed to have just es
caped from Cuba. She represents that
her name is Rosa Brooks, alias Grandi
son, the last name being given her from
the family name of .her former owners.
Sixteen years ago, she says-just before
the close of the late war-her young
mistress, then living in this city, married
a Mr. Grandison, of Havana, Cubia.
They moved to his home, and she (Rosa),
being only one year of age, was taken
with them, and thus snatchied from the
very threshold of emancipation, that
soon followed. She grew ill) in the ser
vice of her new master and his family,
and some time in June last became in
volved in a difliculty with one of the
children that came nigh losing her life.
It seems that in the altercation with the
child she lost her temper and in an un
lucky moment slapped its jaws. She
says her act. was considered such a high
crime that 'the Queen" was informed of
it and her Royal Majesty decreed she
should (lie. She was seated in the kit
chen the iext day when the Queen, in
all her pomp and pride, entered, and,
seizinig a large carving-knife, began
sharpening it for the dread execution.
Making one desperate effort for her life
she sprang through the door, scaled the
walls of the city and phinged into the
ocean. Her struggle with the waves
had scarcely well begun when the royal
trools inl pur-suit fired upon her and she
was wounded in seven places. Worn
out with her fatiuiing run and exhaust
ed with the loss of blood, she continued
to battle for life, when, having swam
some nine miles (being seven hours in
the water), and on the point of giving
upl) the ghost, she was rescued by a hand
of mermaids. These fairy creatures, she
represent9, bore her to their homes in
the rocky caverns along the senahore
and showed her every attention, nursing
her until sie had entirely recovered;
that they live like ordinary human be
ings and are as gentle and kind as possi
ble. When she was well they took her
out into the ocean and placed her upon1
a vessel bound to Galveston, at which
port she arrived safely and thence made
her way to Richnioid inl search of her
mother, Sarah Brooks. She is a good
talker and has an air (f earnestness
about her and dresses very neatly. She
proposes giving an exhibition of her
swimming abilities aid says that she will
swim inl the river for some six or seven
Recreations in Ancient Times.
The Assytians and Greeoks had tri
monthly holidays, besides annual revels,
and great national festivals at longer in
tervals. In ancient Etruria every new
month was ushered inl by a day of merry
making in honor of a tutelary deity;
the patricians and plebeianis of republi
can Rome had their field days; the fes
tivals of the seaons united the pleasure
seekers of all classes, And even the slaves
had their titurnalia weeks when some
of their privileges were only limited by
their capacity of enjoyment, In the
first centuries of tihe Roman empire,
when the growth of the cit 'es and thu
scarcity of game began t~o circumiscribe
the p~rivate paistimeis of the pocorer classes,
the rulers themselves p~rov-idled tihe means
of p~ulic amusemenl01t5; att thec death of
Septimus (A. D). 2]1), the captital alone
had six free amphitheatres and1( twelve or
fourteen large public baths, where the
p~oorest could ntot complJlaint about thle
half-cent entrance fee t~o the luxurious
thermer1. Thle cirrennen, or pubihlie games,
were by no means11 contfined to the gladi
atorial combi ats thlat h ave exercised the
cloquence of our Christian moralists;
dramnatic entert ainmtenta trials of strength
and the exhibition of outlanidishl cuiriosi
ties, seemt to have been as popular as
the grand~est prIize. fightts,mtless the comn
batants were intternational chlampi~ons.
And it would be a great mistake to suip
pose tat only the wealthy capital couldl
afford to amuse its citizens at the pulic
expense; from Gaul to Syria ever~y totwn
had a circus or two, every largor village
an arena, a free bath, and a pub~lic gym
nasium. The Colosseuma of Vespasian
seated eighty thousand sp~ectators, but
was rivaledl by the amph11 itheatres of
Narbonne, Syracuse, An tiochi, Berytus
and Thessalonica. Children, married1
women, old men and mnan~y tradles ulniom
had their yearly carnivals, and during
the celebration of the Olympian and
Capitolino gnes and various local fesn
tivals, event strangers enjoyed the free'
dom of thte hauger townts.
The exp~ortation of p~earl shtells is like.
ly to receive at stitmutlus through a receni
shipment of ai samle~ lot of thirty bush.
els from Baltimore to a manumfacturiung
establishment in Paris. The she~lls ar<
collected on thte southern shores of Cal.
ifornia and carried on fruit btoats tk
Santa Barbara, whence agents stationel
at thtat point ship them to easten con,
sigtees. They vary greatly itn valge,
atnd many of thtose gathered are subse
quontly rejected as worthtless, owing tc
their htaving become sunb~urnt or brittb
from exposure. In the centre of ecd
shell is an excrescence differing in hm11
from the remainting surface, which hai
a special value, and is separately preC
served for ornatmental purposes whet
the rest of the shell is cut up for but
In Olden Thine
Pa)er-halngings were originally just
what their name indientes-viz., strips
of paper suspended from the ceiling in
such a manner as to cover the imper
fections of the walls. They were used
exclusively in the houses of the rich ;
thb poor man in his hut had no such
device, but must needs patch a hole to
keep the wintds away. The carpets of
our forefathers once consisted of rushes,
among which the dogs hunted for the
bones that land been thrown upon the
In England, ono end of the hall was
the kennel for the hounds, and above it
the porch for hawks. In the reign of
Queen Elizabeth, the host at table used
to hold the joint of beef with one hand
and the carving-knifo with the other,
transferring the meat to the plates of
his guests with his fingers, as forks wore
not yet in use. Those who first adopte(
forks were much ridiculed. .Som said
the Bible was opposed to it, and it was
an insult to the Almighty to use a fork
whent le had given them fingers.
The art of making glass is of high an
tiquity, but it belonged to modern inl
genuity to develop the value of the in
venltion, and to apply it to a multitude
of important, and in some cases indis
pensable, uses. Not many centuries
ago, window-glass was only found in tho
houses of the very rich ; its .usc began
in palaces. For i long time it was so
scarce that at Alnwick Castle, in 1567,
the glass was ordered to be taken out of
the windows and laid ilp in safety when
tihe lord was absent.
There was another luxury, so expen-|
sive that for more than two thousand
years it remained completely above the
reach of the poor, and none but the
wealthy could indulge in its use. We
mean cotto cloth! The material of
which the cloth was made was both
plenty and easily obtained, as is the
case with glass ; but the cost of mamt
facturing made it very dear. If a
Grecian lady could awake from her sleep
of two thousand years, her astonishiment
would be unbounded to see a simple
country girl clothed with a calico dress,
a muslin kerchief, and a colored shawl !
Within the past one hundred years,
machinery has been inveited which las
made printedl cotton so perfect, so
plenty, and 5o cheap, that the humble
servant-girl cal wear a better calico
gown than Cleopatra ever saw I
When the whole stock of a carpenter's
tools was valued at one shilling, and
consisted altogether of two lroadaxes,
all adze, a square aitdi a spoke-shave, we
must expect to find rough work and
ione but rough dwelling-houses ; when
there were no chimtneys, aud the fire
was laid against. the wtll, with the smoke
to issue out at the roof, the door, or the
winadow, and the people slept. on straw
pallets, with a log of wood for ia pillow,
we naturally expeot rough manners,
unwholesone food, and a great lack of
tidiness. This was the condition of the
Eaglish people in the reign of Edward
III. Even the nobility went without
ehairs and tables, and sat 111o11 the
chests that cotntainecd their clothes and1(
Jinuen. The skill cof other tratcdes was ont
a level with that cof thie carpenter, and
agriculture wvas as low ini the scale as
any of the arts. The first sawmaill ina
England was built lay a Duntchmana, but
the op~positiont of the anon who worked
by hnad was so great that lie had to pull1
it d1own'. lIt 1767 aniother was crteeted,
but a mtoba tore it downa. So pr'ogr'ess
has every where had to oyercomte obsnta
cles. In 1390, some friars ini Switzer
land wished to build a windinill, to save
the labor of grindling corn by hnaid ; but
a neighboring landlord, who had bought
the country ar'outnd, forbadce them, be
'ause, lie said, lhe ownecd the windcs.
TIhe bishuop wa appeaalecd to, wvho said
that the wvinds belonagedl to the church
anmd could ntot be used. A writer, of
good author'ity, speakintg of the times of
Hfenr'y VITI., says there is noC douta
that the average dur'ationa of huan life
was, at thtat pecriodl, not one-half as long
ats it is at the presenit day. Th'o kings
andac nobility cof a fewv centuries ago
possessed their crownis and high-soun ad
ing titles ; butt there is ntot, in the
Unaited States, a pr'51osperous nmechiaic,
possessing a fair dlegreec o~f refied taste
and1( education, who would desire to cx
change his mannter of life andc living for
theirs, so far as the contveniences of life
are conceernedci 1Thus- it is that art is
over at work, breaking dlowna the barriers
which standc between the rich and the
poor, anid bringing both classes more
aind more toward a common level-a 'at
by degradimng the wealthy, but lby CxI u
ing both classes to a higheir s tancdard of
mtorali ty, refluemnat and educatiotn.
Professor Flower, the welal-known En
glish anatomist, has published seome fur
ther results of his researches wvithi refer
entco to thme hiumant skull, lie statesi that
the largest normal skull lhe hats ever
measured wats as much as 2,075 cubic
conttimeters; the smtallest, 960 cubic coni
timetors, thtis belonging to one of those
piecutlar people in the center of Ceylon
whto are now nearly extinct. The Ilarg
est average capacity of any human head
Iho has measured is that of a race of long
flatheaded people on the west coast of
A frica. The Laplanders and Esquimaux,
though a veysmall pecople, have very
large skulls, to latter givimg an averago
measurement of 1,546. The English skitll,
of the lower grades, shows 1,542 ; the
Japanese, 1,486; ChineCse, 1,424; modern
Italian, 1,475; ancient Egyptiani, 1,464;
Hindnos a. LR.
There are a great many people who be.
have well otherwise, but at table they do
things that if not absolutely oulre and en
aemble, are at least putnisimo and sinie
It is with a view to elevating the popu
lar taste and etherealizing, so to speak, the
manners and customs of our readers, that
we give below a few hints upon ett
If by writing an article of this kind we
can induce one man who now wipes his
hands on the table cloth to come up and
take higher ground, and wipe them on his
pants, we shall feel amply repaid.
If you cannot accept an invitation to
dinner, do not write your regrets on the
back of a pool check with a blue pencil.
This is now regarded as 'icoo/wet.
A simple note to your host informing
him that your washerwoman refuses to re
lent is sufficient.
On seating yourself at the table draw off
your gloves and put them in your lap
under your napkin. Do not put them in
the gravy, as it would ruin the gloves and
cast a gloom over the gravy. If you have
just cleaned your gloves with benzino, you
might leave them out in the front yard.
If you happen to drop gravy on your
knife-blade, back near the handle, do not
run the blade down your throat to remove
the gravy, as it aight injure your epiglot
tie, and is not considered embonpoint,
When you are at dinner do not take up
a raw oyster on your fork and playfully
ask your host if it Is dead. Remarks
about death at dinner are in very poor
Pears should be held by the stem and
paled gently but firmly, Dot as though
you were skinning a dead horse. It is not
Oranges are held on a fork while being
pulled, and the facetious style of squirting
the juice Into the eye of your hostess is now
Stones in cherrie or other fruit should
not be placed on the table cloth, but slid
quietly and unostentatiously into the pocket
of your neighbor or noiselessly tossed un
der the table.
If you strike a worm in your fruit do
not call attention to it by mashing it with
the nut-crakor. 'I his is not only uncouth,
but it is regarded in the best society as
blase and excedingly vice versa.
Macarom should be cut into short pieces
and caten with an even, graceful motion,
not absorbed by the yard.
la drinking wine, when you get to the
bottom of your glass do not throw your
head back and draw in your breath like the
exhaust of a bath tub In order to get the
last drop, as it engenders a feeling of the
most depressing melancholy among the
After eating a considerable amount do
not rise and unbuckle your vest strap in
order to get more r3om, as it Is exceeding
ly au fait and dishabille.
If by mistake you drink out. of your fin
ger-bowl, laugh heartily and make some
facetions remark which will change the
course of conversatiou and renew the
Iriendly feeling among the members of the
Ladies should take but one glass of wine
at dinner. Otherwise there might be dll
culty in steering the male portion of the
Do not make remarks about the amount
your companion' has eaten. If the lady
who is your companion at table, whether
she be your wife or the wife of some one else,
shioul eat quite heartily, do not offer tq
pay your host for hi loss or say to her,
"Great Scott! I hope you will not kill
yourself because you have the opportunity,"
but be polite and gentlemanly. even though
the food supply be cut o1f for a week.
If one of the gentlemen should drop a
raw oyster into his bosom and he should
have trouble in fishing it out, do not make
facetious remarks about it, but assist him
to finid it, lbughing heartily all the time.
liroad Tires for WVhools.
Moderately broad wheels are prefer
able to narrow tires for use of heavy
wagons. To run in iiarrowv ruta a wagon
with broad tires would not lbe desirable,
yet in our opinioni tires throe and a half'
iniches in widthi wvould prove of easier
dIraughit than those measuring two inches
wide. Of coursc the load is no heavier
with the use of the wide tire, but is dis
tributedi over ia surface of three and a
half inches ini place of two inches. Tho
resistance wold( b)0 ab)out the samo in
both cases, though in the case of the
wvide tire distributed over nearly double
the surface. The depression cnused by
the broad tires would not exceed one0
half that caused by the narrow ones.
This cutting made b~y the narrow tires
increases the draught to an extent far
boyond thme common estimate. As the
cuttinig upi of the roads is lessened
through the use of broad tires, the cost
of the~ir maintenance is considerably di
This important p~rinlciple is so far
recognized in England that a less rate
of tolls is exacted from teams wvith
broad whoels than fronm those with nar
row tires, thus paying a p)remium on the
use of broad tires. For farm purposes
broad tires are decidedly preferable to
narrow wheels No one cares to have
his grass lands cut up b~y wheels if it caun
b)e avoided-an injury which is more
likely to be inflicted by broad than by
narrow wheels. A team supplied with
the broad tires will draw a load of ma
nure with far greater ease over fallow
ground than that with the narrow tires,
b~y reason of the diminished amount of
outtinig in the ground. The question of
broad and narrow tires appears simple
enough at- first sight, but it has long
been our Opinion that whatever will tend
to improv'o the condition of our roads
without increasing the expense, that will
reduce the labor of horses, and thereby
lesson a very serious eosat, ought to en
gage the attention of muen capable of
solving such a problem. A year ago an
attempt was made i the legislature of
this State to regulate the width of the
wheels of heavy vehicles, but the bill
was defeated by those who should have