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ABBEVILLE PRESS & 1S$SISi?l
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"BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BESET. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 9, 1879. ; . . 'X ' j .' 5. VOLtiliE^XiCT,, |
.- Summer. , * . n
Oh, brighteal seasorf oi the; year! b
Thou whito-robed goddess all divine! v
We bow in homage at thy shrine, ' w
And rose* strew o'er spring's cold bier! ^
So like thy sister spring thoa'rt seen, j}
In venial drapery of green ,
With.flowery skirt, as only nature wears
When she in happiest mood appears, j]
.,v In the solt and sunny hours?
Broidered and decked with greenest leaves, el
? ' And garlanded with rarest flowers; n
While !> thy head a floral crown we place, ^
And in thy hand a lily for thy mace!
Oh, summer queen! with air of grace, 1*1
Thou reigneet sweetly id thy youthful pride; tl
t>h, peorlosa queen with bo nine lace ! 11
Scatter <8weet*hloesoins?strew? them iar and
i wide! ?
r air fields ot waving grain, n
With myriad webs of shining pearls,
Lie tangled thick upon the waving plain; v ^
And tutted blossoms lift their yellow heads, ..(
To catch the dew-drops shaken irora the blades! \\
In rosy dances the morn advances, :i
How dew-wet flag o'er all unfurls!
Soil flooding steals its mellow light along,
Melting the morning mists, and waking song, t(
Till soon the golden-skirted clouds advance, ft
. Rejoicing in reflected radiance il
01 thine, oh, blight, luxurious summer. V
\\
Ground-ivy and clover aro now creeping over p
The heather and lawn; ^
"White lilies are blowing, and violets showing
Their gold hearts glowing and glad to the u
dawn!
While here, amid the sheltering wood, ei
The robin and the blue bird brood; 1'
The song birds at night attest their delight, "
That the rest hour is nigh; ^
The sad wl.ip-poor-will and the bell-bird, stil e]
Wake the woods with their lone reply; f(
Then, in rhapsodyfchoral they foretell the au- w
roral w
Blush of day-dawning sky!
Now rural maidens their tresses twmo h
With fragrant buds of columbine. jjj
And gleelully o'er hill and vale, n(
Lights floats the sweet and wandering gale!
Or while I walk through meadows wide, a"
Or watch the rippling river's tide,
Fresh odors, delicate and rare,
Pe*fume the warm and ambient air? .
For thoej oh, rosy, blooming summer? s tl
J lit ^ t F<jrthee?ior thee! tc
i n? t *. Ti' ' 'i ' h
The glad earth throbs beneath thy feet.
For thee, oh, warm and dreamy summer! j j1(
While gleeful nature smiles to greet | tl'
\ 33iy1iappy lace; ?. '* w
* The heavens rejoice in thy glad voico, 'I'
And winning grace, ... . ^tl
' Oh, soft, sweet sheeny uumncr! sj;
Late apple blooms with ardor blush, ni
And cherries smile with tinted flush; til
The peach tree buds are crimson red, lu
While tuneful warblers pipe o'erhead, ^
. For thee, oh, fragrant, fruitful summer!
The busy little honey-bee n(
Makes merry drone in locust tree?
Now by its coming and its going,
AnH hv it* hummine. it. ift fihnwinf HI
* "J *? ?0? o I rThe
love it bears to theo? I U
To thee, oh, honey-laden summer! I
1
'fhe love it bears to thee!
? Luther G. Iiiggs, in jYcw York Mail.
GERTRUDE'S ABDUCTION, u
tJ:
^ BY SAMUEL AYERS. g
"Miss Gertrude, I have important 1
news for you," said Edward Ruther- I ,
t;jJ _r ford as hecrossed the liandsomely-ear- j ,
peted fyoor of the luxurious parlor of the ! %y
Moor mnnslon, to where the young and i ,
beautiful XSertrude' Moor stood oy a j:i
window reading a book, in which she ..
was so much interested thai she was not | . .
aware of Ed wftrd'spresenceuntil he had j
spoken. U I*' J h?:*> 1 i / I
(M What is it?" asked she, as with j
crimson cheeks she glanced from the ! ;1}
b(>ok toward Edward. :l;
"You have probably heard that I vis- ! w
ited the saloons last night witii the Rev. j
Ileubeh Homes, who wished to secure j l'<
items for a sermon which he intends to I hi
preach in tlie Mejtiaodiat. church next j G
SabbatUv" ' ^ '! f u'' . | 11
" Yetf, sir, father spoke of it this morn- j111
irig; but bow can that be of any import- j (>I
ance to me?" . I
"Listen, Miss Gertrude, and you shall | M
hear. I have not language to describe i:l'
the disgusting sights that we witnessed, h:
We visited four of those gambling dens, P;
in each of which were a number of rough, j ?}
haggard-looking men engaged in j}'<
drunken revelry. There was not a j hi
young man in either of the first two we w
visited, which w:ts a great satisfaction
to me; but as we entered the third one sn
I beheld among the group that sur- bi
rounded tfie card table three young nien, , G
and one of them was?" 1 ' ; n<
"Harold," said Gertrude, sarcastically. SI
" Yes, it was Harold.", j pj
"Nonsense, Mr. Kutherford," cried Ju
: Gertrude, in an'gry tones, "r would ! ni
not believe such a thing of Harold Ful- j w
ton though an angel should proclaim it ' to
to me." w
^ "Very well. You will learn some day 1 SI
that it is really true. Would to God it ot
were false; for then you would not be- G
conic a drunkard's wife. I must now I ar
hasten back to the store, as I shall leave : rc
town by the one o'clock train." And o\
without waiting for a reply from un- j h:
grateful Gertrude lie bowed very oourte- h(
ouslv to her and departed. 'ire
Edward Rutherford had been in the ! tv
employ of Moor & Co. for nearly two ' to
years, during which time he had learned sli
to Jove Miss Gertrude Moor, daughter ot, di
the senior member of the firm, very efl
dearly apd had resolve^ that when his lu
financial circumstances would allow to tii
ask her to be his wife; but now all hopes fr
were vain; for Gertrude was engaged to di
Harold Fulton, a young man of reputed oi
wealth who had been in the town only a jk
few weeks. It was with a great effort that j of
he succeeded in allaying his sorrow at the Hi
untimely end of his brightest hopes; but j w
he. was determined that Gertrude should ; m
never know how dear she had been to 1 lii
him. Fearing that she might detect a i rii
trace of the feelings that agitated his tr
bf- ast, lie had refrained from visiting | di
her since he had heard of her engage- n<
ment;butthe incidents of the previous vi
night had induced him to seek her pros- fe
ence to convey to her the intelligence st
that mizht save her from becoming the ar
wife of a man whom he now knew to be w
unworthy of her. 44
Gertrude watched him as he proceeded pi
to the store, bitterly regretting her un- hi
kind words k for elie had observed the ai
expression of sorrow on his face and Ik
knew "fte ftlf hurt. So miicli had her ai
feelhig toward him changed that a tear tl
trickled down her face as she thought di
how muoh Uagpier. sjig jwoltUbe were li
she engaged t^ hua, wlipse'ilqiye she had \v
- ver doub^Jjfcah1<4oi fibroid, whom hi
she now believed to be a drunkard and a'
probably only courted her for hor p:
money. Had she known that weeks tc
must intervene, ere eiie should behold
Edwa*3*#- face -again she' ^onld doubt- w
less have wej>t bitter lyjbutidie did not C
Eosed himfto be in the store attending to s'
is 5 ? :r t r i -'-y ".'2 3
After(a vAin atf.upt to console her G
mifil R' *tv read fnsr. *he Mrent into the | n
library and wrote I hvard a letter, beg- n
ping pardon for what she had said, a
When her father arose to return to the s'
store, after supper that evening, she gave r
. r him th? letter. He read the address and e
w returned it "to her, saying, " He is not g
there." " h
"Where is lie?" risked Gertrude, in e
su r*rise, dreading to hear the answer. t
" He lias gone to Philadelphia on e
business for the firm, and, as he passes a
t
I.
ear his father's, he intends to stop
lis return and spend two or three w<
irith his relatives. It is a busy tim
2t him go, but he has not been at.he
sr nearly a year and I could not i
eny his request. I am sorry you
ot use more courtesy toward the n<
jllow when he came-to bid you gc
ye. It would?"
"When he came to bid me good-bj
interrupted astonished Gertrude.
" Yes, and you treated him soindil
ntly that he returned to the store a
lueh grieved."
"But, father, he never bid me gc
ye!"
" I only know that he said he wc
un up and see you before leaving,
tiat when lie came back he was \
luch agitated." And Mr. Moor 1
?ned away, leaving Gertrude to her (
elections.
Before closing her eyes in sleep t
ight she resolved to tree herself fi
or engagement 10 narom ai ineir n
leeting, for slie ^rnssure that what
rare! liad told ajv was time, and
ould never become the wife of a r
'ho w:is guilty of such conduct,
rose very early on the following m<
igand wrote Edward a letter, tell
im how bitterly she regretted her ci
rords and asking his pardon. She :
>ld him of her intention to free her
om her engagement to Harold. II
lg sealed the letter in a neat white
elope on which she had previoi
'ritten his address, she took it to
ostofiice. Dead stillness reigned c
le town, and she had thought
et back to her room without being
;rved; but as she was returning
let Harold Fulton, his haggard co
nance and unsteady gait betraying
Sects of debauchery. She passed
im without seeming to know him ;
urricd home. She did not relate
leeting with Harold to her parents,
'hen at breakfast her father spok<
igaging him as a clerk until Enwai
.'turn, she protested against it.
ras, however, that dav employed,
illed on Gertrurle in the evening
'quested her not to tell her father
leir meeting that morning. She t
im that she would comply with his
uest, and also that he must consi
leir engagement as ended, as she co
6ver marry him.
This did not please him, and he w
way very angry.
The Methodist church stood in
isiutiful grove on a small eraine
rerlookmg the town. Thither' on
dlowing day, which was Sunda", C
ude, .accompanied by her parents, w
) hear the Rev. Reuben Homes deli
is sermon <m intemperance. He ill
ated the folly of intemperance, sho\
ow strongly its guilt is denounc
iiced its effects on its victims, i
our.d up by showing the drunkai
oom. In tracing its effects on its i
ms. he gave an account of his visit
le saloons, describing vividly what
iw there. Gertrude was inspired w
ejw courage in her resolution never
tarry a drunkard. At the close
leeting Harold asked permission to
mipany her home, which she polit
ifused. She obsei'vod his sullen br
id revengeful look, but heeded tli
>t.
A week passed away and then tli
ime a letter from Edward, a letter
issionate love and devotion, wind
p with a proposal of marriage. G
ude, exultant in her new love, imm<
;ely answered, accepting his propo:
id begging him to hasten to her.
Harold soon heard of her enga^em
id forthwith left town. On the <
:ter his departure Gertrude receive
tter from him, in which he told !
I at as she had refused to be his wife,
id sworn that she should never
dward's. He warned her at the p
Edward's life to tell no one the e
nts of his letter. After considerate
le determined to send it to Edw:i
hich she did by the next mjiil. i
lought it best, however, to say noth
inut it to her parents.
Three days after Harold's depart
le discovery was made that the lirn
[oor & Co. had been robbed of S34(
ink notes, the thief having placed bo,
oney in lieu of what he mid taken
r'oid immediate detection. Su?pic
once pointed to Hai-old, and detQCti
ere placed on his track.
Another week flew by and Edwai
turn drew near. . He had shorte]
is stay at home in order to be w
ertrude. Nothing liad been heard
arold. though careful search had b
adc for him. It was the univei
linion that he had sought refuge in
r West. Preparations were m:ide
r. Moor's for Edward's reception,:
1 u*(>nf mprrv t.bnlirrli nntlnnfr wiv
ul occurred; for, indeed, Gertruc
irents felt grateful that Harold 1
lly gotten $340 instead of their afl
dilate daughter, whose happiness wo
ive been wrecked had she become
ife.
We have stated that it was the univ
1 opinion tlrnt Harold had gone W(
it there was at least one exc6pti
ertrude did not believe it. She co
>t forget what he had written to 1
le Wiis more than once about to tell
irents, but the warning he had gr
;r prevented her doing so. On
ght preceding the day on which ]
ard was expected to arrive, she reti
her room at an early hour. Her m
as filled with apprehensions of e
le spent several hours in meditati
casionally breathing a silent prayer
od that all might be well with Edwi
id that she might sec him on the m
iw. She never once thought of
vn safety. Why should she? liar
ul made no threats against her, ?*
aides she was apparently beyond
ach. The clock had tolled the hou
reive. Gertrude felt drowsy, but fe:i
close her eyes in slumber lest
lould be awakened by some horri
earn. At last, however, despite
forts, she fell asleep on the chair w
>r head-reclining on the stand. Sc
me afterward she awoke very nn
ightened. How long she hail slept
d not know. The candle had g
it and the room was enveloped in da
>ss. She endeavored to refill the ca
her fright; but. failing to do so,
mg herself on the bed and was si
rapped in slumber again. But o
ore she awoke. The room was dii
;hted by the moon, which #nd j
sen. A rustling noise on the carpet
acted her attention, and, looking in
reetion of the window whence
)ise came, she saw a man stealthily
mcing toward her. She sprang to
et and attempted to scream; bu
rong arm was placed around her w
id a hand over her mouth, and a v<
hich she knew whispered in her i
Aqtfmpt to escape or make a no
etty bird, if you dare." Lifting lie
is arms, lie glided out of the wine
*^ fhn lnf nf
IU 11U1 I iru UUVllg^ wu*' *VW NM
3usc to the alley, where a can-!
waited him, into which he eonve
le terrified ?;irl and gave orders to
river to make all possible speed, as <
ght Wiis fast approaching. Gertr
ept very bitterly. She was now in
unds of Harold Fulton. What
waited her she could not tell; but
rayed that God might give her stren
> endure whatever should come.
An hour had elapsed, and the carri
ras rolling rapidly along the road, w
rertrude, whose weeping had somew
ixbsided, discovered that Harold '
sleep. jSo wc wis had bfeffi spoken si
tartfrig' except by the driver, \
wore occasionally at the horses,
>r fontetime he, tpo, had been sili
lerfcrude at onee conceived the idei
lakhlg her escape.' She listened a
linutes at Harold's heavy breath
nd being satisfied that he was asl
lie arose softly and looked out of
our end ol tne carriage. bhe cc
asily and silently' let herself to
Tound, she thought. She stood mot
3ss, uncertain what to do. The dr
racked his whip over the horses,
he carriage went rolling along at
reused speed. Her heart heat hea
,nd seemed to rise in her throat, for
) on feared she would be detected. She gave
;eks one step toward the seat; but no, she
e to would risk detection rather than submit
)me quietly to the doom that awaited her if
ivell sne remained in Harold's power, rihe
did glanced at the driver to see that he was
>ble not observing her, and with a prayer on
>od- her lips that Iter undertaking might be
successful, she slid noiselessly to the
re?" ground. No one had seen her, and soon
the noise of the receding carriage died
Ofer- in the distance. Throwing herself on
'ery her knees, the young girl, who bad been
brought up by religious parents, thanked
>od- the God whom she had learned to trust
from childhood for the success of her
?uld undertaking thus far, and implored Him
and to enable her to return safe home again,
'cry Rising from her knees, she began at once
las- her journey; for well she knew that
>wn sooner or later her escape would be
discovered, and an attempt made to rehat
capture her.
:om On, on she went, getting Bearer and
pxt nearer home. Day dawned, the sun
Ed- rose in all its majestic splendor and cast
she its refulgent rays over the earth,
nan Eventually our heroine drew near the
She town. Soon she expected to be safe at
>x-n- home. But now the hopes that all along
[ing had filled her breast gave way to despair;
ruel tor. looking back, she observed a horsexlso
man approaching her at full speed. She
self thought it must be Harold. Determined
av- on a last effort, slie began to run; but
en- she was sure this could not last long.
isly He was fast gaining on her, and she was
the expecting soon to be seized in his ruthiver
less grasp, when a half dozen horsemen
to came galloping around a curve in the
ob- road, and she fell fainting to the ground
she as they dashed furiously past her. A
un- lively race ensued, which resulted in
the Harold's capture. But there was one
by who did not engage in the pursuit. It
:in<"l was Edward Rutherford, who had ar
JILT 1'ivuu 111 Miwii uy tnr sia kj vjjwuiv nam,
hut and, learning soon after of Gertrude's
j of abduction, Had engaged at once in the
rd's search. He alighted and endeavored to
He revive her, hut failing in this hu took
He her in his arms and rode back to town,
and where medical assistance was procured
of and she was soon restored to consciousold
ness.
re- A few weeks afterward Edward and
dor Gertrude were married in the Methodist
uld church by the Rev. Reuben Homes.
Edward is now a partner in the firm of
ent Moor & Co.
As to Harold Fulton, he was coni
a victed and sent to prison for five years,
nee At the expiration ot his sentence he went
the to the West, and was never again heard
Jer- of by those whom he had persecuted and
ent sought to wi'ong.
ver _
lushed
A Suggestion.
:(?d' | We have not space in the Register for
^ | an extended tale; but we have evolved
[v 8 j an idea for one, which idea we are too
| unselfish to withhold from a wailing
' . j public because we cannot get all the
.j1? j glory of it. If some skillful pen will but
fill in this bare outline with rich rhe'
^ j toric and vivid imagination, not only
i will some " interestin' readin'" be i>roa.c"
j duced, but a great moral engine will be
i sent into the world to accomplish great
ow good. We should, perhaps, entitle our
iem romance?
ere "A BRAND FROM THE BURNING;
. i OR. THE DELINQUENT SL'HSCUIBEU'S SAL
ing VATION."
We would introduce the first chapter
with a picturo of tlie heretofore honest
s:"? and prosperous farmer's happy home.
The angel of peace dwelleth there, and
the country paper comes to his postofliee
box every week.
^ a Having been supporting this county
"er paper for some four years without paying
1 for it, he is surprised one day to get a poke
lite note from the publisher to cash up.
er" Indignant at being dunned, he resolves
on" to punish the base insulter of his dignity
or}? by beating him out of the whole bill.
All, rash resolve! "This, this, thesource
?ll(i of all thy ills!"
in~ Asd '-ay makes his fatal purpose manife='.,
direful consequences follow; his
ur?, friends fall away and recognize him no
1 ?f mom; the wife of his bosom deserts him
*in and liles an application in a Chicago po?us
lice court for divorce: his daughter
.to | elopes with a lightning-rod peddler and
,on his best horse and buggy; his son, losing
ves j all self-respect in his father's degradation,
goes to the city and enters politics;
:d's his cattle start on " a.journey to tliecenned
ter of the earth," through a neighboring
ith [quagmire; his hogs die of cholera; his
of cornfields only tassels?all mankind and
een nature seem to conspire his ruin. Job
sal had his comforters, spiritual and human;
the but " what charm shall soothe the melanat
choly" of the wretch who bears upon
md his soul the purpose of defrauding the
mg timstful editor!
le's Ciiaiteu 2.?At last, deserted by all
lad but his faithful dog (who has been kept
fee- in ignorance ol the facts of the cjisc), our
uld , delinquent resolves to end his bitter
h is j existence by suicide. (We suggest to the
t previously-mentioned skillful pen that
-or- J the scene lien? shoulcfbe very gloomy?
st; dark cliffs, stormy sea, blood-red sun,
on.' !^ust as he is about to drain the
u]rj ' fatal draught (or shoot the fatal shot, or
i,.r. stab the fatal stab?we also leave this to
licr ; t'ie taste of the fillcr-in)?the spirit of
...... ! mnrcv willinir tn ffive the old man an
the i other chance, inspires within him the
Ed.,j thought?"Suppose I pay the printer,
i-oci i and all may yet be well!'' Seizing the
ind idea with avidity, and the dog by the
vil. ! collar, he hies him to the neighboring
on, town. Realizing there thirteen dollars
to from the sale of this faithful animal, he
:in) repairs to the editorial sanctum, pays his
or- arrears and for a year in advance, and
her has enough left, to "set 'em up all
old around." " Mis atonement, is complete,
ind and he walks forth once more " a man
his'among his fellow-men." (The editor's
p of astonishment and joy at being the posred
sossor of eleven dollars all at one time
she should be artistically pictured.)
[hie Ciiapteu 3 shows the inevitably happy
her result of this Christian action. Fortune
ith r smiles broadly upon him once more?his
imp wife withdraws her divorce suit and rejt-h
, turns to his arms; the eloping lightningshe
rod peddler turns out a wealthy Russian
one ' count in disguise, and restores to our
.! ]<- farmer the lost broad acres; tne son
use abandons political life and becomes once
she more a respectable citizen; his kine wax
on lind his wheat fields yield some sixty
nce ?md some a hundred-fold. The scene
u]y closes with a bright picture of the
iust prompt-paying subscriber's happy Great
side.
the : If the above sketch, graphically dethe
lineated and broadly published, does not
ad- ! rouse many a delinquent conscience into
her action, then is all mor;<! suasion vain,
t a JU1(1 the butt end of the law our only resist
course.?Printers' liajistcr.
>ice
par. J
is<v From Pond to Pnlplt.
low ' I)r. Lyman Beecher was very fond of
the ! fishing, and while settled at Litchfield,
age Conn., he was sometimes seen standing
yed nearly knee-deep in the water of a neidithe
boring pond trailing for pickerel, lie
lay- was engaged in this piscatorial pastime
ude '>ne Friday afternoon, and so absorbed
Lilt? , AlilU lie UCIUIUV iii vivwiui 111^ vliu uuiij
fate denizens of the lake, depositing each in
she the capacious pocket of a loose sack-coat
igth which he wore for the purpose, that he
had entirely forgotten that this was the
age afternoon for his usual preparatory leelion
ture until the ringing of the church-bell
hat admonished him of the fact. Having
was now only time to reach the church in
ince season for the service, he shouldered
vlio his fishing-rod and started for the
but 1 church, on reaching which he delibcrprit.
j ately set up the pole against the church,
i of j.;beside.the door, entered, and walked
few gravely up the long aisle to the pulpit,
ing, | while the measured slump, slump, of the
eep, I water in his boots was .distinctly heard
the every step. He aseende<Whe pulpit
>uld stairs, and proceeded at ^piee to the
the | duties of his oflice, delivering one of his
ion- most impressive discourses, all unmindiver
: ful of his burden of fish, some of which
and had hardly yet ceased to struggle in his
in- pocket. At the conclusion of the service
vily lie again shouldered his fishing-pole and
she i walked leisurely home.
Self-Reliance.
There is no one element in a man's
character that contributes more to his
success in life, wisely says the United
Stales Economist, than confidence or selfreliance
in his own ability. A fainthearted
man is unstable, and will never
excel. Faith in the endeavor to will
and to execute is as important in a successful
business career as is the keystone
to the arch. A man possessed of a bold,
daring and resolute will may be determined
in performing what he conceives
to be right. To .men with this neverdying
faith there is no such word lis defeatj.and
when obstacles present themselves
in their path, it onlv results in
their nutting forth a greater effort to accomplish
their purpose.
Toil, trial, disaster, gloom and danger
may environ and threaten to overthrow
the most cherished plans, yet over and
above all hindrances a heroic soul will
< i __ J* r ? 1 i mi. ~
iriumpa ana win iame ana Jiunur. j. ne
discouragement that would retard the
irresolute only discover the weak places
to the brave, and, strengthening these,
they renew the conflict with increased
vigor. Timidity creates cowards and
never wins success. It is a strong and
abiding faith in one's own ability to perform
that overcomes difficulties that
others thought could could not be surmounted.
In all the pursuits we find that those
who achieve nonor and distinction are
strong and self-reliant in their own
powers, exercise faith in their own ability,
and carry out plans conceived in
their own brain. Morse had faith in
telegraphic wires, and Field in submarine
cables, and to-day, in consequence thereof,
the lightning is harnessed to convey
the news of the world in every part of
the inhabitable globe within the compass
of a few hours. Not many years ago
Edison occupied an humble position as
a telegraph operator; to-day his name
and fame are world-wide as associated
with some of the grandest discoveries of
ancient or modern times. Astor, Stewart
and Vanderbilt furnish examples in
the large fortunes they created as to what
well-directed energy and determination
can accomplish in business pursuits,
while the eventful life the late Judge
Packer is another striking illustration of
the high position that can be attained
by reliance and perseverance in the individual
man, backed by a liberal endowment
of common sense. In the everwidening
paths of commerce and the
ever-increasing monetary circles there
are open up before the young men of the
nation rare opportunities to win wealth
and fortune. In agricultural, mining,
industrial and mercantile pursuits like
avenues to attain distinction are presented.
But fortunes will not come by chance
nor distinction by hazard; both must be
won by strong heroic endeavor. Backbone
is vital in the achievement of lofty
aims, and nerve and grit are essential requisites
in the battle of life. A man, to
triumph, must have faith in his enterprise
and reliance in his ability.
The Flaw in the Boiler.
The late Mr. W-?, one of the leading
business men of Cincinnati, was
strongly opposed to the use ~>f intoxicating
liquor as a beverage; and in his
gentle, quaint way preached many an
effective temperance sermon.
He received one day a visit from
Judge C , of St. Louis, who then
held the first place among the learned
jurists of the West, and who was besides
a brilliant man of the world, kindhearted,
brave and loyal to his friendI
ships.
Mr. W showed him over his
manufactory, and his admiration was
especially excited by the intricate machinery,
much of which was of brass,
finely polished?a work of art as of ust.
That evening the friends dined together
at Mr. W 's hotel. Judge C-?
drank to excess. Observing his friend's
grave, keen eyes upon him, he said,
" $ou do not take brandy, W ?"
"No."
" Nor wine?"
" No."
" I do," frankly. " Too much, probably.
But I began thirty years :igo. I
drank as a boy at my father's table. I
drank as ayoung man, and I drink as an
old one. It is a trifling fault, if you
choose to call it a fault, and will hurt
nobody but myself. If it has not harmed
me in thirty years, I have no cause for
fear."
Mr. W bowed gravely, but made
no reply.
When dinner was over, he said: "We
had an accident in our mills an hour
after you left. Will you walk up with
me?"
They reached the mills in a few
minutes. One side of the wall.had
fallen in. The exquisite, costly macliinery
was a hopeless wreck. Two or
three workmen had been crushed in the
ruin, and laborers were digging to find
I the bodies.
"Horrible!" cried C . "The machinery
was so fine and massive, I
thought it would last an age."
"Yes," said W , slowly, "but
there was a flaw in it. A very slight
flaw, which the workmen thought of no
importance. I have used it many years
in safety. But the flaw was there, and
has done its work at last."
? ' i- e 1?T.To
?J UOg(? Ly S liwjti lust I WO tUiUi XJLXJ
w:is silent a moment, and then turning,
caught Mr, W 's hand.
"I understand you, old friend," he
said. " I will remember."
How loner he remembered, we do not
know. A liabit of thirty year3 is not
easily broken.?Youth's Companion.
Statistics for Girls.
A young English statistician who was
paying court to a young lady, thought
to surprise her with his immense erudition.
Producing his note-book, she
thought lie was aboufto indite a love
sonnet, but was slightly taken aback by
the following question:
" How many meals do you eat a day ? "
" Why, three, of course; but of all the
oddest questions."
"Never mind, dear, I'll tell you all
about it in a moment."
His pencil was rapidly at work. At
last, fondly clasping her slender waist:
"Now, my darling, Tye got it, and if
you wish to know how much has passed
through that adorable little mouth in
the hist jevontcen years, I can give' you
the exacragures."
" Goodness! Gracious! What can you
mean ? "
" Now, just listen," says he, " and you
will hear exactly what you have been
obliged to absorb to maintain those
charms which are to make the happiness
of my life."
" But I don't want to hear,"
" All vnn im'p surnrised. no doubt, but
statistics are wonderful tilings."
"Just listen. You arc now seventeen
years old, so that in fifteen years you
nave absorbed oxen or calves, 5; sheep
and lambs, 14; chickens, 327;'ducks,
301; geese, 12; turkeys, 100; game of
various kinds, 824; fishes, 160; eggs,
3.124; vegetables (bunches), 700; fruit
(baskets), 603; cheese, 102; bread, cake,
etc., (in sacks of flour), 40; tea and coflee
(cups), 18,600; water (gallons'), 3,000."
At this the maiden l-evolted, and
jumping up, exclaimed:
"I think you arc very impertinent,
and disgusting besides, and I will not
stay to listen to you!" upon which she
flew into the liouse.
lie gazed after her with an abstracted
air and left, saying to himself:
"If she kept talking at that rate
twelve hours out of twenty-four, her
jaws would in twenty years travel a distance
of 1,332,124 miles."
The maiden within two months married
a well-to-do grocer, who was no
buvwolill'kvu*
"Well, how do the fish get along thi8
weather?" Governor Gear asked one o'
the Iowa fish commissioners. "Oh'
swimmingly," was the cold-blooded reply.
And nn*v an intelligent people rise
up and (I 'iu.limI the instant decapitatior
oi that ollicial.?Haw key e.
FOK THE FAIR SEX.
Be a Woman.
Olt I've heard a gentle mother,
As the twilight hours began,
Pleading with a son on duty,
Urging him to be a man;
But unto her blue-eyed daughter,
Though with love's words qnito as read;
Points she out the other duty?
"Strive, my dear, to be a lady."
What's a lady ? Is it something
Mado of hoops and silks and airs,
Used to decorate the parlor,
Like the fancy rings and chairs ?
Is it one that wastes on novels
Every feeling that is human?
If 'tis this to be a lady,
Tis not this to bo a woman.
Mother, then, unto your daughter
Speak oi something higher far
Than to be mere fashion's lady?
" Woman " is the brightest star.
If you, in your strong affection,
Urge your son to be a true man,
Urge your daughter no less strongly
To arise and b? a woman.
Yes, a woman! brightest model
Of that high and perfect btauty,
Where the mind and soul and body
Blend to work out life's great duty.
Bo a woman! Naught is higher
On the gilded crest of time;'
On the catalogue of virtue
Thero's no brighter, holier name.
Hints About Dreue*.
Corsages are most varied in detai
scarcely any two being made alike. Th
only settled fact is that all basques ar
shorter, except those that are cutinEng
lish coat shape, to serve as a street car
ment without an extra wrapping. Th
front 1ms two darts, but no cross basqu
seam, and this sometimes compels th
use of an under-arm dart, which give
H.n nffirmf nf f.wn sid<? forms in the back
The first side body begins in the arm
hole, and in many cases the second also
but the long side forim beginning in th
shoulder seams have proved so becom
ing to most figures that the attempt t
give them up lias bren a failure, as man
ladies insist upon having them. Ther
arc, however, fewer senms in the bac
than when the long, corset-like cuiras
was so popular. The middle seam i
usually retained, though not always
Some of Worth's handsomest - fittin
waists are made with merely the tw
short side-form seams in the bad
There is less effort to make the figur
taper toward the waist line; hence a
the forms of the back are equally broa
at the narrowest part. The greats
changes are.made below the waist in th
- -? * * < 1.1 ,
back by tlie introduction 01 me piuut
fullness, which is not confined to th
skirts of the dress, but is seen on th
basque as well. Sometimes the sid
forms are cut auite long and broad, ai
piqued on the front edges and at the bo)
torn, while the back edges are laid i
three or four plaits, and are brought tc
f;ether quite high up, nearly to thewais
ine, on the middle forms, where the
are further enlarged by having a she
bow of satin placed upon them: thisboi
conceals the joining of the plaits. Th
ends of the middle forms are in this cas
laid quite flat, and are shaped to forr
two wide loops. Such a basque as thi
is quite bouffant of itself, ana adds t
the genei'al panier effect. This design i
excellent for black grenadines, wit
satin bows for trimming. Another plar
very effective in summer silks, is that (
widening each fbrm of the back from th
waist line dov n, and drawing it up i
puffs .by two or three rows of shirrin
down each seam, or else laying plaits i
the seams, and covering them with
chain of loops of narrow ribbon. Whe
the flat basques of last season are f o b
renovated, a full eftect is sometime
given them by putting on panier sashc
of wide ribbon, or of satin, or bias sill
or China crape: these are from two t
three-eighths of a yard wide, are sewe
in the under-arm seam just below th
waist line, and when brought togethc
lower down in the middle of the bac
they are tied in a large, round, loos<
looking knot, from which the two end
hang: a tassel of fringe or jet, or a plait
ing of lace finishes each end. When th
hips are very small, this panier-sash ma
I Ua *> fVirornrH in thp lni
p?int and piped all around. Similn
drapery is sometimes put around the hip
of polonaises. Another quaint fashio
is that of having the sash* begin in th
dart.' In some basques it is almost cor
fined to the hips, as it stops at the edp
of t.helmiddle forms of the back, and i
sewed'in the seam there in plaits: th
middle forms are then cut in a sliar
under-arm seams and tied loosely auit
low down in the front, givinc a neglige
look that is seen even on full-dress toi
lettes.
When vests a?-e used they are mos
often of eontrasting colors, and th
caprice now is to tina some new snap
for the outlines. In many Parisia
dresses the vest is as sharply pointed b(
low the waist as is the pointed front of
low corsage. In others the vest presenl
an oval outline, getting smallest at tli
waist line, and stopping there. The mos
popular forms ofthe vest, however, shoi
only at the top and bottom, being eovere
in the middle by the basque, which i
double-breasted and fastened by froi
three to six buttons. Embroidered sati
vests are imported for the richest silh
and grenadines and for satin dresse.<
They are usually in contrast to the colc
of the dress, even black dresses havin
very gay vests. They cost, with som
additional embroidery fortrimming, $li
Another fanciful vest for black silks an
for grenadines is made of black lace lai
over white or colored silk, either crean
gendarme blue, nareisse yellow, salmor
or very pale Nile green. To make thes
laee-covered vests more dressy the end
nre separated from the basque front, an
are gathered together and finished wit
a tassel of plaited lace or else of j<
fringe, which hangs low on the front <
the overskirt.?-ffar/jer's Bazar.
TTnal*i*v ntlfl tZ 1
French and English" manufacturers vi
with each'other in the production of ne1
designs and fanciful styles of ornament!
tion in colored hosiery, which has no<
been accepted in the place of the wliil
nnd unbleached, whicn in different d<
grees of fineness formerly constituted tl
sole choice of this department. The ha:
stripes retain the popular prestige whic
tliey at once acquired, but they are n
longer confined to the simple contrast <
dark and light lines of color. Worke
in between are still finer threads of gol
and garnet, which enrich, without in
parting any striking effect of color. Qui!
new and very fashionable designs consi:
of vertical stripes 01 siik in ngnt coio:
edged on l>oth sides with a button ho
stitch of tinted white, and alternatin
with a dark stripe of Lisle thread. Th
style of hosiery washes and wears equ:
to spun silk, is almost its equivalent i
appearance, and costs less than tw<
thirds the price. The Roman stripe
hoirzontal, and consists of clusterc
lines in Roman colors, alternating wit
a solid dark stripe. A new and pretl
English stocking is of Lisle thread i
ecru tints, open-worked vertically, an
embroidered with small dots which n
ternate in different colors?blue, game
brown and black. Another stvTc coi
sists of broiul ribs, extending from tl
top to the toe, and alternating with lin
of fine open work. Some of them are
solid colors; others have speckles ar
dashes of color, a sort of chene mixtu
upon the solid ground. The shades a
i. very delicate,'such as pale blue with
little infusion of pink or pale olive, wil
blue or tinted white. Many are in sol
mastic shades and some have little iigli
' ning strokes of brown upon the stoi
l color or mastic. Among the most fashio
able are very pale blue in delicate ope
work patterns, and with little pale pink FABM
dashes which are used for indoor wear,
with the pompadour colors in dress or
trimmings. The richest silk hosiery have Cele
insertions of exquisite real lace, extend- kept
ing from the toe to the instep, and some They
of which are very finely embroidered in cause 1
colors. This is, of course, executed by care L
hand in the finest style, and the cost per seed b
7 pair is from $40 to $50. ing or
A new glove, lately introduced, dis- sible s<
plays a very simple but clever invention Shelte
which effectually disposes of the nuis- sun w
ance of buttons coming off, tearing out, often,
leaving one worse than gloveless, under thoroi
the most exasperating circumstances, suited
The improvement is patented, and con- sandy
sists of an ornamental series of small Celerv
riveted hooks, which look exactly like clay 1
gilt glove buttons. Attached to one manui
side, at the top, is a fine silk cord, with cellent
a gilt cap upon the other end, which ii\iuri<
prevents it from slipping from position, which
This cord is wound in and out of the render
little hooks, which look like a double charat
row of very pretty little buttons, and nessol
closes the aperture perfectly. It is done If tl
in a moment without trouble or strain, signed
nnrl t.hp sonsn .it qfifnritv ia delightful, there i
The gloves, as introduced by the manu- rectly
facturors, are very fine and soft, and so vidinjj
perfectly fitting that the hand seems to water
melt in them. They are really a great As a
boon, and as the cost is about the same planti:
as other first-class gloves, there is no lyocci
reason why ladies should not relieve weath
themselves of one of their minor miseries, liable
in the shape of the old fashioned, many- peatec
buttoned, ill-sewed, at once. An expen- tablis]
sive novelty is black kid gloves, which droug!
are of an exquisitely fine and soft kind, ings a
made with arras which conje up above bankii
the elbow, and consist, beginning three The
inches below the line of the wrist, of plants
bands of kid an inch in width alternat- aband
1, ing with bands of real black Valenciennes the n
e lace. The elbow piece is of kid, but earth
e above this is an insertion of the lace, durinj
headed with a standing ruffle to match, is dev
- The cost is from $40 to $50 per pair, thercfi
e Mitts are popularly as well as fashioqn- allow<
e bly worn?the woven " stocking" mitt, tions
e in all colors, being undoubtedly the requir
s most serviceable for general wear. Lisle protec
:. thread gloves have lost caste, so many. The 1
i- rotten imitations having been put upon straig]
; the market and sold for first-class.? and e
e Sprinyfield, Union. them.
i- ____ Septei
o fortni)
J A City's Noises of the Night.
k It was of old supposed by some people Celt
is that the night was made for sleep. There pits, 1
s were times and places in which a measure pose,
i. of correctness characterized this supposi- closel;
g tion. Applied to city life it is Jargely made
o based on error. The city ?s noisy both them
:. by day and by night, ana the people who the ci
e can sieep through the noises are indeed use a
II fortunate. There are some whose pro- bleacl
d fession turns night into day and day into coven
it nighf. Tho?e who prepare a morning In ble
e paper must do a large part of their work it fre<
r while others sleep or try to. Even to packii
e those who stay awake at night there are standi
e noises to wnicn tne ear cannoi, necioseu. a u
e Prominent among these is that of the markt
e night hawk. This creature must not be lows:
tr confounded with the night owJ, which tempo
n is a bird of the count . The night ten in
>- hawk of thft city is a predatory bird and ing ic
it roosts on top of a hack. Having no out si:
v legitimate stand he is encouraged by the bottoi
II police to move on, and keeps moving on and tl
Tr n II flin tlmn hn io finnrn rroH in Ilia nniM.lirnill hfidn.
T lill bUW WU1V IIW <U VI.6?5VW ,U U.W
e excursions. Hp is on the lookout for plants
10 anybody whom he can induce to take this r
n passage in his vehicle, but prefers those econo
is who are gently inebriated. Hour after averaj
o hour he drives his vampire-like steeds World
is with slow and measured tread along the
h pavement. A foot pilgrim with hand
i, luggage is a boon to him, if from the Bre
)f country and unlearned as to hack rates; 9tale I
e but a drunkard is a God-send, especially until j
n if with full pockets and too far gone in the r
g inebriety to resist illegal taxation. crural:
n In sections of the citv where the night he frii
a hawk plieth not his trade there are noises dings,
n of various grades and styles. Streetcars oTU
e keep up their racket till after midnight,
* and begin so early in the morning that tjfi *:
s the sleeper is unconscious of any inter- :nter:.
mission. Cats lift their lofty voicej and
o entertain whole communities with free
d concerts. In the old days of the volun- j ?
ie teer department the nre bells would
- ? , roll Cliopp
'i ziruuse uie oiccpcia ui t? miuic w j w i/v?* fnpc
k them that somebody's chimney was on ,
J- fire. Happily that clangor no longer .
Is disturbs us, and when there is a contia- aD?ul
fc- gration we hear only the rumble of the QUI
ie engines along the streets. To the weary 'eiul I
y sleeper who wants, a good night's rest it {5?Y?r
Jt is a nuisance to be disturbed an hour a
t past midnight by the intoxicated neigh- water
19 bor who cannot make his night-key fit an" "
n the hole in the door. After struggling a sauc
e awhile and profanely soliloquizing in
i- his loudest and thickest tones, he kicks
:e the front door several times with all his Half r
is might. This brings a night-capped tract
e head from an upper window, and a
p demand for information as to who is itshg
e there. Tlie response, " itsh mee?lemme "ry 10
;e in," brings forth an angry remark to the Hoi
i- effect-that the inebriate has come to the one ]p<
wrong house. Then the upper window the hi
it is shut with a slam, which brings sev- not st
ie eral more heads to other windows in the a tabl
>e vicinity, each intent on knowing who is spoon
n firing guns in the street. The lipsy out- washc
!- sider tries several other doors without turnip
a achieving marked success, and after pieces
;s worrying his neighbors out of more and In
e sleep is taken care of by the police and six to
it clubbed into peaceful quietude. As the gentlj
y night progresses the ice carts furnish meat
d their contribution of racket. A proces- see if 1
is sion of them bangs its noi3y way along serve
n the street, and the drivers hold trumpet- Spii
n tongued conversation with each other, qu:irt
which they hurl trom cart to cart as gaucej
i- they ride. Their rumble is hardly done in?? w
r before the milkmen begin. The noise of sa]t, a
g the ice cart is solid and solemn, but that ;t is t<
c of the rattling contents of the milk to sov
>. wagon is ten times more worrisome, thesp
d The milkman drives along in hot haste, VUn pi
d and his tin cans knock against each the co
1. other as if each were bent on shattering siev
>, the empty heads of all its fellows, the
ie After giving weary attention to the clat- quarti
Is for nf Mif> millr nans 1int.il h.lmosfc rOfldv to flin fir
d drop asleep from exhaustion, the sleeper buttei
h is startled by another and even more ^radu
Jt outrageous noise. It is the noise of the with ?
)f singing birds. The neighbors keep fowls, quart*
The ostentatious rooster mounts a fence peppe
and officiously declares to all within spinat
reach of the blast of his awful voice that If it is
lie thinks he begins to discern symptoms sauce]
je of approaching dawn, and that, accord- full oi
fY ing to his belief, it will soon be time to witho
^ get up. It is in vain to protest. The
w rooster must have his way. Bootjacks
;e and ink bottles may be thrown at the
L midnight cat, who will be silent for a
'[C few moments while dodging these mis- ^atl
jr siles. The wicked rooster, whose noise -pjic
jj is more penetrating than the combined ij}lb]e
0 doxology of forty cats, will not pause raay c
jf for all the missiles of the neighborhood, wr
d but keeps right on speaking his little overw
d piece, and will not stop until he has (iu<-toi
j. faithfully executed his whole contract tjlcre
te And yet we will not ask for refuge in some
3t the deaf and dumb asylum. If the noises (jeep g
r of the night are freighted with objec- tjonF
le tionable elements, there is much by day year's
lg to regale the ear as sunshine delights geriou
the eye. Some of these nocturnal nuis- munj(
ances are inseparable from the blessings jn on(
n of civilization. Let us rejoice that we most
j. are civilized, and take comfort.?Phila- con5jc
is debhia Times. away
td m brake
h too, ii
;y While the people of Great Britain an- ??d i
" nually consume, per head, 4.56 pounds break
ld of tea, those of the United States average sulatc
1" t .if? nrmnds ti.ipIi . On the other bears
hand, the United States presents an the v
average annual consumption, for cacli duty
ie person, of 6.55 pounds of coffee, against whert
P9 0.08 of a pouna to each inhabitant in jurc 1
ir} Groat Britain. distar
id frequi
re wild i
re About this time of year citv people them
i a are getting terribly anxious about the ofbai
th welfare o? the country eouein. This geste<
id anxiety and solicitude will grow as the case
it- season advances, .and, when they can ted ol
ne bear it no longer, they will pack uu four used
n- children and two trunks and go and ace them
n- about it,-^Middletown Transcript. Amer
, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOI1).
Cultivation of Celery. H
ry plants, for best results, must be
growing without interruption,
rarely recover- fully if from any m
they receive a check, hence great b
i necessary in transplanting lrom tc
eds to plant beds. Avoid break- ei
drying off the roots and when pos- w
it out the plants in cloudy weather. ]fl
r them from drying wind and hot c.<
hen first transplanted and water t<
The soil should be rich and al
ighly pulverized. The land best 0]
to this plant is a deep, mellow, t<
loam, rather moist in character. 0
will thrive, however, on drained b
ands if heavily manured. Land
ed the faH previous makes an ex- }(
; bed for celery. Fresh manure is ;l
jus, as it induces a rank growth 0
injures the quality of the stalks, p
ing them pithy and flabby in g
Jter, a sorry contrast to the crisp- 8;
f well-zrown stems. a
le lana is in order where it is de- b
to finally grow the celery ei
is no objection to transplanting di- s
from the seed-bed to tne field pro- b
f arrangements can be made for 0
ing and shading the plants at first, y
rule farmers delay tne final trans- S(
ng until July, when land previous- h
upied has been cleared off. Jf the a
er is dry at this season, as it is q
to be, the plants will require re- t!
i waterings until they arc well es- b
led, for celery cannot withstand a p
ht. Freauent hoeines and weed-1 ?
ire also necessary until the final }]
agup. . v
old practice of banking up celery 8
as they grow is being gradually c
oned. Many cultivators attribute
ist on celery to the particles of 8
which fall in among the stems n
I the process of hilline when there ^
v or aamp on the plants. Celery, (\
3i*e, in not a few instances, is b
;d to grow and spread in all direc- a
until such time as banking up is g
ed for bleaching'the stalks and h
tine them from injury by frosts. v
eaves at this time are carefully i<
litened up, held firmly together t
arthed up sufficiently to bleach e
During moist warm weather in r
nber celery will bleach within a f,
?ht if properly earthed; later, t
the days and nights are cooler, a
weeks or more are required. . . t
ry is stored for winter markets in /
;renches, etc., made for the pur- a
The plants are set in these as e
j iLA thrv will stand. Provision is t.
to keep water from standing in v
and the tops are covered to protect "i
3lery from freezing. For family b
small supply of celery already p
led may be stored in the cellar, r
;d with light garden soil or sand. s
aching celery be careful not to let d
?ze,. not to heat it by* too close s
igand heavy covering, and avoid c
ng water in the trench. a
lethod practiced by the.Edinburgh a
;t gardeners is reported to be as fol- q
They grow their celery plants in p
rary or nursery beds until they are 8
ches or one foot high before plant- g
l trenches. The trenches are dug X
x feet wide and one foot deeo: the t
n i3 loosened and well enriched j|
le plants are set in rows across the t
fourteen inches asunder, and the l
i nine inches apart in rows. By
neans it is claimed that space is
mized and the plants attain a fair
;e size and quality.?New * York
v
Mill Corwln'i Beclpei. g
:ad Crumbs for Frying. ?Put "
)read in the mouth of the oven b
it is perfectly dry; then roll it with v
olling-pin, and sift it; the finest ?
>s will do for breading articles to r
ed, and the larger ones for pud- ^
ffed Tomatoes. ? Choose some ^
lound tomatoes, cut a slic6 from j:
jm end of each one, scoop out the a
jr with a teaspoon, and mix them s
tn equal quantity of bread crumbs; ^
i the mixture highly with Depper g
lit, and add to it a little cola meat
ed, if any is on hand; fill the toma- c
ivith this forcemeat; dust some t
crumbs over thorn, and bake them t
half an hour in a moderate oven. I j
ck Beef Tea.?Chop one pound of | ji
>eef fine, put it into ?a bowl and v
it with cold water; let it stand o
a hour or longer to permit the cold e
to draw the juices out of the meat, S
ien pour both beef and water into g
tepan; set the saucepan over the v
id let the contents boil slowly for t
minutes, or longer if there is time, n
tn hour's boijing will serve to ex- /
all the nutritive qualities of the o
Then strain off the liquid, season o
htly, and serve it with a little thin t
iast. C
jseholdSoup.?Cut in small pieces i
)und of lean meat, and put it over k
e in four quarts of cold water. Do f'
:im it. When the water boils add s
espoonful of salt, quarter of a salt- *
fui of pepper, a cupful of well- o
;d rice; a cupful each of carrot and li
>, peeled ana cut in small square si
; one onion peeled and chopped, s
alf a cupful of celery chopped, or A
imatoes, peeled and sliced. Boil o
' about two hours, or until the ii
and vegetable^ are tender; then c
the soup is palatably seasoned, and 1'
it. b
tach Soup.?Wash and trim one c
of green spinach; put ii into a 3
)an containing three quarts of boil- 3
rater and three fciblespoorifuls of ?
nrl Vinil itranidlv. uncovered, until P
:nder, which will be in from three 11
en minutes, according to the age of ^
inach; then drain it in a colander,
ienty of cold water over it to set I1
lor, chop it fine, and rub it through 11
e w;ith a wooden spoon. While 0
spinacli is boiling heat two !l
> of milk. Next stir together over q
e until they bubble one ounce of 11
and two ounces of flour; then n
~11? ^ 4-Ua kAi'linff millr SPiL(tntl ?
tuijr iW4U UIC in/mug U?iwf ,
i level tablespoonful of salt, and 5j
2r of a saltspoonful each of white
r and grated nutmeg. Stir the I1
:h into the soup, and serve it hot.
i done before it is needed, set the P
san containing it into another half
'hot water, so that it will keep hot j1
ut burning. jj
C
~ V
d
iiral Enemies of the Telegraph.
re is, apparently, no apparatus so
to be interfered with by what we
nil niit.tiral f.iuses :ia the electric
aph. Fish gnaw and mollusks
'eight and break the submarine con- I
ra of the subterranean wires; while t<
is at least one instance of a frolic- ^
whale entangling himself in a e
lea cable, to ite utter disorganiza- v
It is stated that within the three ti
ending 1878 there have been sixty h
s interruptions to telegraphic coin- n
:ation, in Sumatra, by elephants, ti
3 instance, these sagacious animals e
likely fearing snares, destroyed a k
lerable portion of the line, hiding r
the wires and insulators in a cane u
. Monkeys of all trib?s and sizes, a
l that favored island, use the poles v
vires as gymnasia, occasionally ii
ing them and carrying off the in- r
irs; while the numerous tieers, j
and buffaloes on the track render n
matching and repair of the line a r
of grqit danger. In Australia, i
> there are no wild animals to in- t
;he wires, which are carried great e
ices overland, they are said to be \
jntly cut dowu by the scarcely less s
iborigines, who manufacture from j
rings, armlets and other varieties c
baric ornament. It has been sue1
as a means of protection in this t
that the posts should be construe- <
' iron, when the battery could be i
to astonish any native climbing i
with felonious intent.?ScictUific 1
icant 1
POISONED BY LEMONADE.
r T
aw* Country Dtnee Ball WmTurned
Into Hospital With TMrij Patient*.
A numerous party were gathered at a
rand dance being ueld in the capacious
urn at Michael Shaitel's place, ih the
>wn of* Wells, about ten miles ?ctathwt
of Sparta, Wis. Over a. hundred
ere present, and the young lads and
isses, and many older ones, from all the
juntrvside arouiid, Were :ort hand, filled .'
) the rail with health /and happiness
ad enjoying the festive occasion as
tily such a party can. About half-past
m o'clock some lemonade in a couple
f jars was brought In and commenced
aving a rapid sale, the boys and girls
nbibing with equal freedom. , jSot
>ntf after this hour a lunch wns served,
no"it began soon to be noticed that every
? ?A' 1? ? ufxmriA Trnnniv. mon 1/,
iiur:1 in r*- ytjhic oviuc viruug ukvu, v?
erhaps a gu<#t?f the other sqx, would
et up suddenly, with a pained expresion
of face ana rapidly, depart. More
nd more of them commenced having
usiness out doors. and as it became genral,
dismay sat on every countenance,
oon a general stampede set in for the
ushes, and for hours thereafter a scene
f the utmost distress and confusion preailed,
.Between thirty and forty perons,
old and young, nad patronized the
;raonade stand, and all were more less
fleeted, and so seriously that it was a
uestion with many whether or not
beir last hour had come. The dancing
iall (or barn) was turned into a hos- 1
jtal, and groans, retchings and cries of do
? ~ *v/1 Sri of i m o m ?
.iStreSB 11UIJ1 W rcvv^ncu vjcuuio nviv | r
ieard on all sides. Out doors the Lj|
foods were full of the victims, some ,
o sick as to be absolutely unable to . -1
rawl back. Those not affected were
:ept busy in endeavoring to make the 01
ick?who were lying in all directions? 1
a comfortable ,as possible. thOueh but ms
ery little in this direction could be gcx
one. As noon as the effects of the ]
leverage! had begun to be general, a mes- we
enger was dispatched post-haste to noi
iparta for a physician. It was some j
ours, however, before Dr. Beebe, who QU
/as summoned, arrived there, and inthe a '
ntervening time the distress of the pa- ,
ients beggars description. The slight 1
scape from being an appalling tragedy ?n
enders it almost too serious a matter I8 J
or laughter. Two or three of the vie- daims
narrowfy escaped with their lives, 1
nd probably several were only saved by pei
he thoroughness of their vomiting.
Lbout five o clock Dr. Beebearrived and 50,
dministcred such remedies as were nec- ]
ssary, and by morning most of the pa- th<
ients were but of danger, though so 8U1
?eak as to be scarcely able to stand, jie
?he lemonade, which was understood to jfo
e the cause of the trouble; was com-1 ,
ounded for the occasion, under the di- ti.
ection of Mrs. Ohler, who keeps asmall t}:
tore in Leon. Her little girl and a
aughter of Mrs. Shaitel's were sent to
iparta that day with a list of the artiles
to bo used in making the beverage, 1
raong which were lemons, sugar, etc.. tl1!
nd (to eke out the lemons) a small aci
uantitv of tartaric acid.- This they ?"
rocure'd at 'Newton Bros., and, as is ^
tated, through some mistake, were '
i ven tartar emetic instead of the acid, wc
t was duly mixed in.' the lemonade, and mt
hp direful effects thereof were the first- hu
ntimation the comoany had of the error liti
hat had been made.?apana ( wis.) <
Jerald. dif
? Sb
' A*
In the Trenches at Cold Harbor. ph
A writer in the New York Sun, who'
sras a young gunner in the Federal army,
ives this incident of life in the trendies soi
t Cold Harbor, Va., during the terrific V0
ighting early in June, 1864: By daylight tie
re had our earthwork finished, ana were1 US'
afe. The heavy artillery, armed as in- sil
untry. were some ?ixty or seventy yards " I
a front of us. We being on the crest of . ,
he liill, they were below iis. Behind us du
irere a couple of Delaware regiments, 18"
he two havrogaboiit 140 men combined. vi<
Jack of us was aravjne, an alder swamp. Ui
nd in' the tlfickets bordering on the Ai
wamp was a spring of clear, cold water, sno
?he men in front of us had to eo to this >
pring for water. They would draw lots ve'
o see who should run across the danger- js
us open grounds. This settled, the vie- cjr
im would hane fifteen,or twenty' can- i:?
j i.r_. 4.u? I??.
een.s arouim nnu, ujwj, uiyuuinij^ iu?* Wj
a the rifle pits, he would give a great frc
ump, and when he struck the ground, jta
ras running at the top of his speed for wj
>ur earthwork. Of course every Confedrate
sharpshooter in range tired at him. j
lome of these men were shot dead; hut for
;enerally they ran into the earthwork Io'
irith a laugh. After filling their can- un
eens, they would sit and smoke and talk, th<
iervin? themselves for the deadly return, ter
adjusting the canteens, they would go am
ut of the works on a ran, and run back coi
ver the bullet-swept course., Some- tio
imes they would come to us in pairs, yei
)ne day two Albany men came leaping, era
nto our battery. After filling their cansens,
they sat and talked of the beautiul
city on the Hudson, and finally
tarted together for their rifle pit. I
matched through an embrasure and saw
ne fall. Instantly l.fl began to dig a
ittle hollow with his hands in the sandy
oil, and instantly the Confederate sharphooters
went towOrk on him. The dust
ew upon one aide of him, then on the
ther. The wounded soldietf kept scrapie
his little trench in the sand. We
iilled to him. He answered that his
g was broken below the knee by a rifle
all. From the rifle pit we heard them
all to him to take offliis canteens, tie the
trings together and set them on .one
ide. He did so, and the thirsty' men in
he pits drew Jots to see who wmld risk- I
is life for the water. I pot Keenly in- oh
rested in this dicing with death, and St.
ratchcd intpnt. A soldier springs out of he
lie pit. Runnineobliquelj, I10 stoops'as scr
e pusses the canteens, grasps the strings, wi
urns, and in a flash is safe. Looking wn
ut I see the dust rise in little pufls soi
round the wounded man, and with gu
uickOning breath feel that his minutes me
re numbered. I note a conspicuous erl
lan in the rifle pit, and recognize him J a a
s the comrade of the stricken soldier, j ly
[e calls to his disabled friend saying i un
liat he is coming for him, and that lie j be
lust rise as lie comes near, and cling to \ Tl:
im when he stops, The hero leaves the i lui
it on a run: the wounded man rises up; na
he runner clasps him in hif^irms; the i foi
rms of the wounded one twine aoout; sei
is neck, and lie is carried into our bat- | w?
?ry at full speed. To the honor of the 1 of
ionfede rate sharpshooters be it said that! tir
rhen they understood what was being j tii
one they ceased shooting. i dii
in
cu
ro
An Accommodating Artist. no
S61
The following story is told of Thomas ' jnj
licks, the artist. The scene was Trcn- j sp'
an Falls, >?. Y., a summer or two ago. i b(
Ir. Flicks, who had been on a troutmg ; yj,
xpedition, was approaching the inn
nth ti sinirle larce trout, which he in- Mi
ended to sketch, when a gentleman who pe
ad just arrived ivith a party of ladies, tri
oting his rough fisherman's costume.! jn
aok him for a servant of the house, and frc
ailed out: 44 Here, my man. do you
now all about the falls? '* 44 Yes, sir,"
eplied the artist. 44 Come, now. show
s the way there." 44 Certainly." The '
rtisfc led the way to Hie falls, and on the sai
fay was so entertaining that the tourist so;
nsisted on his going over the whole an
oute with him. At athe close of the ci?
ourney he handed the artist a doliar, mi
,nd asked his name. 44 Tom," was the sc<
eply. 44 Well, Tom. you are the most sa
nteiligent guide I ever met, and ought j qu
o be in better business. If you ever j sw
ome to New York call on me, and I ; pr
vill try and help j'ou." 44Thank you, ' ou
ir," said the artist, who had keenly en- . to
oyedthe situation, :ind had accepted the 1 m:
lollar rather than mortify tin; guest by j hi:
m explanation. Next day the guest 41
old the landlord that lie wanted to se- I th
ure 44 Tom's " services another daw As ' sii
he landlord replied th.it no 44 Tim1" was i in'
n his servicc, the truth soon came out all
>ut Mr. Hicks keeps the dollar as a sju, 1 wi
ronir ofhia afternoon's work as a guide* | St
Farm Life. v.
flaw jre the larmer at his plow,
ye were riding by?
Or wearied 'neath the noonday toil,
When summer anna were high ? .,
And thought you that bis.., J was hard,
And did yo" thank yodr God
That you and yours wtre not condemned
Thus like a slave to plod?
. . ui .ay .
Come see him at hie harvest home,
When garden, field and tree
Conspire with flowing store to All
t Hi? barn and granery; y
Hia beautiful children gayly sport
Amid the new-mown hay, f
Or proudly aid with vigoroo* arm . ' A
His tasks aa best they may. "
Hie Harvest-Giver is his triend, I
The Maker oi the soil,
And earth* the mother, gives them bread,
And cheers their patient 1 oil; ,
Come join them around their wint*{
hearth, . %
The heartielt pleasure * .,
And you can better judge how blest
The farmer's liie may be.
?Mrt. Sigournty. '
i - Vf.
ITEMS OF INTEREST.
iVhy is it that a man never gets tired
ing for some one else's sister?
i turtle recently brought to'New York
is eight feet long ami six feet broad.
tforth and South Carolina and Louisia
produce annually 80,000,000 pounds
.ice.
it is a peculiar feature of the butler
irket that a bad article outranks a
3d one. i . .
[n Upper Arragon, Spain, the masons
1 *' -? ' !*i
u uieir iuui uu triut nuucf ucvaiuvi* ?
t so scarce as water. ;i..;- w
!t was after Luna had passed her first
iirter that she was referred to as the
ilver moon."? Weekly Item. ' ^
llr. Vanderbilt's income is over f l.OfO
hour?which; says * Western editor,
more than some of us make in a whole (
?7.
Baltimore has a population of 321,76c
rsons,' living fh 52,943 houses, antT tilled
as to color into 270,905 whites and
821 colored.
I you are over-anxious to know why
: elephant \^ears a trunk, irritate him
ficiently, and you will discover that
carries his choler in it.?Havtn
lister. . .
Why is it that the small boy weeding
; garden always pulls up by mistake
; only plant on the premises that his
?ther "wouldn't have taken a thould
dollars for?"
\.nd now doth the festive hen revel in
; dust, and rake the begonias and hyntlis
out of the ground. Somehow oi ;
ler a hen will alwavs go for the most
luable plants.?Una* Sam.
* There are too many women in the
>rld; sixty thousand more women than
;n in Massachusetts," growled the
sband. " That is the' survival of the
?st,' my dear," replied the wife.
3ver 50,000 tea plants have lately been
itributed in the Middle and Southern
utes by the United States Bureau pi
-JnnlhiM Ti, .iVinnt fnnr vears these
^llWU4WUiV? M? ....
ints will be large enough to alio w a
tlpickingofleaves. i - ' '*
k. pickpocket taken with his hand in
one one else's pocket endeavored toinpt
all manner of impossible explanans
of the phenomenon, " What's the v
3 of your trying to lie about it so clumy
?" said the magistrate, benevolently'
laven't you a lawyer?"
According to the official statistics, the ;
mber of emigrants from Germany jn.
*8 was 24,217, 2,253 more than the'prejus
year. Of these 20,373 tailed to the
lited States, 1,048 to Brazil, 1,718 to
jstralia and the remainder to the
lail South American States.
I?wo naval officers have invented a
ry simple life-saving apparatus that
most favorably regarded in official
cles. It is a floating reel, with lifee
attached, which, when launched.
11 be driven to the shore, pnd there.
?m its peculiar formation, Will anchor
elf, and thus direct communication
th the shore is obtained., ,,
case involving originally ten cents
' railroad fare has just got into the
wa Supreme Court. A passenger was
able to buy a ticket before entering
? cars, and the oonductor demanded
i cents extra. The passenger refused
d was put off the train. The lower
arts gave him $1,000, but the corpora
n has appealed. The costs and law-r
s' fees have already amounted to sevil
thousand dollars.
A; NICE SCREAM.
Gaily the maiden,
In colors bright, , *'
Walks with her lover 1
In the twilight,
Chattering so merrily
O'er hill and dale,
Till they encounter
"Ice cream lor sale"?
Then tho yoang man wishes
that Socrates had never dis
ai? fuof. via
had borrowed a quarter before
he left home.
?JVeto York Exprtu.
e Sea Serpent on Luke Champlafn
klr. Holmes Record, a farmer living
the shore of Maquam bay, says the
Albans (Vt.) Advertiser, saw what
believes to have been a genuine sea
pent. He was at work near the shore
th his hired man, when his attention .. *
is called to the water of the bay by a
ind resembling the discharge of a . * ^
n. Upon looking out on the bay, both
n saw an animal moving in a north
y direction, with a head shaped like'
erpent, onLy much larger. Apparentthe
greater part of the monster wa$
der water, but about fifteen feet could
distinctly seen above the surface,
le body was jointed, appeared like
iipa connected with each other by
rrower sections. After viewing it
some time with the naked eye, he
it to his home for a spy-glass, but it
is too small and the air too hazy to be
much value. They saw the animal disictly
for about two hours.during which
ne he appeared to be about sixty rods
stant, and moved slowly, and at sirort
tervals he made a sound like theoonssion
of powder, followed by a loud
ar. The wind linally changed to tlie
rth, and the monster raised his head
reral feet out of the water, and, turnip
round, went south with greater
eed, and soon disappeared from sight.
>th men watched nim while he was
Bible, and could distinctly see the outie
nf his shaneand form. He splashed .
e water as he moved along, the prolling
motion being apparently coneenited
in his head and tail. He moved
undulations both up and down and
>m side to side.
Two Voices.
"The sweetest voice I ever heard,"
id Bishop, "was a woman's. It was
ft and low, but penetrating; musical
d measured in its accents, but not prele.
We were on a steamer, and she
urmured some commonplace about the
?nery. I do not remember what she
id. but I can never forget the exisitely
tender, musical voice." "The
'eetest voice I ever heard," replied the
ofessor, " was a man's. I had been
t fishing nearly all day, and got back
the hotel about three o'clock. The
an came oui on hip iruni siuup, up is
mouth like a sea-cavern, and roarf d
)in-NUR!!!' till it soured the milk in
e cellar. I have heard other voices
ice?" But Bishop, with a look of
tense disgust all over his faco, had
ready walked away out of hoatifijr, and
lighting a fresh cigar by hJm#fl.f.?
iwktyti
?"-a -