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'' ' ..... . .. - '
IT MOTHER'S CRAVE.
The trembling dew drop fall
an flower I like souls at rest
The stars Rhine gloriously
auaau . .
ISavc ine, are blest.
" Mother, 1 love thy ferove! ' ' ' ' ' :
. The violet, with blossoms blue and mild.
Wave o'er thy head ; when shall it wave
Above thy child?
Tis a fweet flower, yet must
Its bright leave to the coming teiii)Ka Ijow ;
Dear mother, 'tin thine emblem : dut
Dust hi on Uy brow. , ,-. ;
And I could low l die;
To leave untasted life dwrk, hitter Ktroanis:
By thee, as ent In childhood, lie,
Aud thare thy dreams.
And must I linger here.
To slain the plumage of my finles years.
And mourn the hope lochildhood deaj-.
With bittcrteans? . -
Av nitiwt I lintrAr lirrc
A lonely branch a pon n wit aerert tree, i
IVIiowlaiit frail t ntiinjfly xre, 1
1 Went down wiflithee?
' Ufl, f roin life' wiUMTt-d lower, '
, luslillcoiuiuuuion withtheratl tuiu,
" nd muse on thee, the only flower, :.
"" ' in Memory? urn.
--Aod.when iheevening nale. '
, Bowsjik a mourner, on the dim, bine wave,
, 1 it ray to hear the night-winds wail -
. yUouud thy grave. . . .. '
Where is thy spirit flown ?
J gaze above thy look is imaged thcivj I
I listen and thy gentle tone . '
Is on the air.
Oh. come, while here I press
My brow upon thy grave ; and, in those
A ad thriiliae not.'s of. wiHh-riitJ 1 i
.111 W"w, blts lay child? -' i . I
Yes, blew thy weeping child ;
Ando'er thine urn Religion 'h holiest shrinr,
Oh, give IJ spirit, Miulciiifd,
. To blood with thine.
THE STORY OF LIFE.
ltT JOUS 6. HAXE.
Hay, what i life? Tin to le born
A helpless babe to greet, the light,
Wilha.Kliarpwail.a'tif tboiaorn i
' Foretold a cloudy moon a.id night ;
To weep, to sleep, an J weep again.
With Minny aimlex Ijet ween, and then!
And then apace the infant grown
Tojie a laualring, upright iy Ik)
Happy; despite his little woes
Were he but conscious of his Joy !
To tie, in short, from two to ten,
A merry, moody child ; and then ?
And then in coat and trowsers clad
To learn to aay the Iecalogue,
And break It, an unt inking lad.
With mirth and mischiel all agog,
A truant oft by field and ten
, And .rejfture.JjjiUtfJll.rs aad then Z .
And thenJaxraaMd iuMtrenglh and sixc.
To Anon, a youtli full grown ;
A hero in a mot Iter's eyes,
A young Apollo in his own ;
To imitate tiie ways of men .
Jn fashionable Kin, and then?
And41n-, at hwt. o I a van,!
Tq fall In Inve, t w aad v n
With aeeihingbrafn to scheme and plan ;
To gather gold, or toil for bread ;
To sue for fame with lounge or pen.
And gain or lose the prize; and men? ,
.! rlii'' ' ' ' '
And then in gray and wrinkled Eld
To mourn the speed of life's ..ecline :
To praise the scenes of youth beheld.
And dwell Id memory of Lang feyne,
To dream awhile with darkened ken.
Then drop into t ha grave, and theu ?
" - Branch at Chicago.
From the C'hiuugo Tune, Jan
It Is uovr about three years since a
regular organized branch of Masonry
for the benefit of women has been or
ganized. At the time indicated, Rob
ert Morns, Jvc., of Kentucky, pre
pared a series of lectures and devised a
ritual mat Miouiu - embrace certain
DoiuU of the Masouic rites to which la
dies mieht lie eligible. Previous to
this Uiere had been the "Families," an
informal organization which included
women, "but which had nothing defi
ii ite in the uliapeiof iMicciples or rules.
Mr.Idorris was and is well known to
the fraternity as an able writer, and
excellent lecturer ami writer uponub
jects peixaining to the craft, and Jiis
proiHwitions forming societies of tbeiia
ture in question was verj' favorably re
ceived, and is now being adopted in
The order is denominated Ue "East
ern Htar" branch of Masonry, and is
MiWifaled into f uhapters, each f
' which has an appropriate name. No
ladies can be admitted who are uot, or
Lave pot lieen,, immediately related to
' a master Mason, either as wife; moth
er, daughter or bister. The order coii-
' sists of five degrees, all of whic.li are
taken at one time, aud it has a com
plete code of grips, signs, passwords,
The Chicago division of the order of
the Eastern Star is known as Miriam
Chapter, No. 1, and was organized
about one year hjo. The rule of the
order make it optional with the mem
bers to hold the yearly installation of
' officers in public or not, and the ladies
of Miriam Chapter concluded to keep
"open house" on the occasion of the
?cond annual installation in their
lodge. A large number of friends of
the members were j resent on last eve
uing, at Blauey Lodge Hall, ths apart
ment used by this chapter. The exer
cises were found to re&emble somewhat
the ceremonies that are attendant upon
Jmblio installations in lodges of Master
dasons. The programme consisted of
sitigiug and an introductory prayer,
after which the officers elect, a iiortiou
of ' whom were gentlemen, were sepa
rately inducted in. tlieir pllices. Alter
this-the principal address of the even
ing was given, O. H. Horton, Esq.,
leing Ue orator He was followed by
Dr. Mc Williams, M. J. Bailey and
others, all of whom made brief and im
propriate remarks. ; The' formal cere
monies closed with an ode, sung by
all the members, the remainder ,of the
evening being , taken up with social
All of the ladies were adorned with
certain mysterious aud tastefully ar
ranged regalia, the officials being de
noted by trapping1 of a more elaborate
The officers for the ensuing year aru
an follows :
Worthy Patron, Dr. S. A. Me il
liams; Worthy Matron, Mrs. Joseph
Butler Associate Matron, MkC.Tj
'AViH; Treasurer, Mrs.' A. . Hight;
Secretary, Mrs. Joseph Callagher;
Warden, Mrs. Charles Mugee; JSeutinc),
Adah Mrs. rUUrt Tarrent.
Jtuth Mrs. C. J. Hall.
Esther N. M. ltassott.
jraTtti -MlssMary Prters."-'
. ErettMrs-M. A. J. OgnV; S
The last live officers named esjHrial
ly are peculiar to . tlus order, and are
known as the five points of the Eafctefn
f Thd Hire of Brilliant !f n, I
lJrilliMit'iMeu'are skill U fond of
marrying uninteilcctual wives. Mad
ame de Talleyrand was no exception
. to Ue rule. .She was very pretty, but
by no means clever. A certain tSir
tfeorRe Ilobiuson, who had traveled in
tiie East bi'ijis invited to tUuo at thu
Minister's house, Talleyrand said to
his wife : " I will leavea book for you,
my dear, on my study talJe; please
to read it, then you will be able to talk
to Sir George when he comes to dine.
Talleyrand forgot to leave out the m
ieided book; but his wife, anxious to
comply with his instructions, limited
about the study, and, liuding "ltobin
ou Crusoe," at once jumped at the
conclusion that the author was their
expected guest. The French usually
drop the word "Crusoe." and
"Robinson." She read the, book dilli
seutlv, and 'astonfcued Sir tJeorge, m
liis entering the drawing-room, by m
fUutly questioning him conceruuig
" that darling Friday."
Line Jfatlons that Kt Most, .
TJr! lleard, In flours iit TowiTvsay s :
The mliua. ueoDle of, the world, who
Lave from tinio . to time tihamnl the
lestinics of humanity, have always, so
fa,m eu (a jasserUuioJU been liberal
feeders. ,Amuiig modern nations: the
greatest eaten are the : English, -t lie
Jermans ami the Americans the rul
ing, people of our civiirzatibu. The
diet of the Spaniards and Italians is
notably less hubstantial than that of
the English and Germans, just as their
brains iare less active and original.
The', Americans are, on the average,
flie greatest eaters in the world. Said
Carlyle to Emerson : "The best thing
I know of that country is, that in it a
man can have meat for his lalior."
By Alfred 8. IIorslcyi
A LOVER'S QFARBEL.
From Temple Bar.
"And I say it isn't"
" Fanny ! " a pause after the word
as if the Meaker tried to cet rid of
lump in his throat " you're playing
the fool : you've no more notion now
love you than you have of the height
you're standing at above the sea. I tell
you, I'd ratner see you lying uown
there, washed ui by the tide, than know
that you want to go back again fo the
lieacu of your own win, ana oe looKea
at by tha't lath-and-plaster fellow of a
And yet, while the fierce words pass
the young fisherman's li ps, he takes a
firm irrasr of his companion's arm, lest
some sudden movement should draw
her nearer the giddy edge. s
The sun had began to set when these
two. John ry-aud anny iiaywood
began to quarrel, and now he has just
sunk into tue purple oeo oi ciouas risen
un from the sea to receive him. There
lias been a scene of , magnificence 'and
fast-chaiiKinc color : enmson, and pur
pie, and gold now by turns, now all
at once have held their places on the
tender ground of chrysolite-green, fast
fading into gray; though its final iiue
lingers among the rock-pools below the
clitls, miugled with rosy gleams that
reflect themselves irom scauereo. cioua
lines. The ragged, perpendicular cliff.
rises some four hundred feet above the
sea, and about a third way down its
steep side runs the path or ledge: on
which the lovers stand. They- care
nothing for the sunset, nor for the ex
ouisite scene below them. On the right
the tiny village nestling in the gorge of
luerh hills on one siue woouea to tne
base, on the other a precipice of rock
rich in brown and purple shadows
every here hnd there in its depths re
vealing a glimpse of the white foaming
river, that conies struggling and tumtv
ling over gray stones to the sea ; while
further still on tne rignt stretcues
ranee of lofty clifls, the hues of which
mock the power of words to render, as
successfully as they elude the painter's
resources to depict crimson, purple,
violet of richest tones every where re
lieved by tufts of bright golden blos
soms, and the fresh green of ladyfern
that fringes tiie jagged euges.
John and Fanny have disputed be
fore this evening, but ocly for a few
sentences : and then a kiss from him.
or a tear in her sweet eyes, has brought
the matter to a standstill. But this
ouarrel wears a more serious aspect.
John looks absolutely threatening. He
is a strong, well-built young fellow,
w ith a true South of England face a
face that is saturated with sunshine,
that iits one in mind, all at once, of
ripe August cornneias ; ana, laKen in
conjunction with his rich curly hair and
beanl, of October nuts anu squirrels.
Dut the deep black eyes, that match so
well with this gtlden-brotvn, have none
of their usual expression ; they are full
of angry gleams, and through his part
ed lips you can see his teeth set hard.
. 'a a 1 il . A
r anny iooks up, anu nieei uns stern,
eomnellina glance: meets it, too as
you may tell by the quiver of her rosy
mouui just wlieu a loving name or a
caress might have prevailed over the
lerverse spirit tnat was rising.
It is a puzzle that she has been able
(living so near the sea) to keep her skin
so wnite anu ueucaie-iooKiug. jili
hair nearly matches her lover's, but
her eyes are not so deep in color; there
is a tinire of blue hazel in her's, that
shines out with almost a golden glitter,
as John takes hold of her arm. . She
thinks he means to make herpnsouer.
Let me go. will you ? I'm not your
wife yet, John, aud I don't know that
I ever will lie."
He draws his hand away.
' Come, coine, Fanny, you're talking ;
nonsense now. 1 was a minute ago,
maybe. . Why should you and me quar
rel about a thing which can't happen,
if voull only let yourself lie guided-"
The girl's eyes filled with sudden,
angry tears. .
" I'm iiot quarreling ; I only say you
don't put any trust in me. Why"
(she tosses her head scornfully) " even
if I t-Hupsc, tar" go home by the beach,
andrr; Russet and Captain Standish
are thtre, and they say a civil word to
me what am I the worse for it I'd
like to know? I suppose you'd like
me to wear a mask next, with just twa
holes to see out of. Everything that is
pretty is looked at, you know it is, and
why not girls as well. as anything else ?
I say again, yours isti't what I call hav
ing trust in me that it isn't."
The goklcn light is quenched in the
rears, that fairly mn over. Fauny's
eyes now are almost as dark as her lov
er's, and tenderness seems to be swim
ming in them. If John could only
bavedteld put against them for two
AiifnfteM, ' lie might have made his own
terms with the pretty, way ward,spoiled
girl ; but a sensible lover would be a
iilieuomenon worthy of exhibition, and
ohn was not a phenomenon. . . :
The next minute he bad Fanny In
his arms, straining her to his heart,
kissing oft her tears, and calling him
self a "rough, jealous fool " for having
brought them ther.: - t
. " Xo, John, you're not a fool, but you
are 'jealous,' you know you are; ana if
you go on like this when we're mar
ried, you'll break my heart, John,"
comes out of those pouting coral lips.
" I'll never lie jealous unless you give
me cause, Fanny," he says, his honest
face growing grave again. "Butt you
sen, men and women have different
natures. You can fly in a passion and
get out of it, all in no time, and be as
sweet and emiling a if nothing had
happened ; but that is not the way with
us anyhow, it's not with such a sulky
chap-a.4 me. Or.ce I'm put tip I get
out of bounds, and an to soeiug you
laughing and talking witii that young
fool of a Captain wny, h l was to
of a Captain why, if I was
catch' you at it, I don't know what
might be tempted, to "j
n You're threatening now, John,"
Fanny pouts, and draws herself away
There is an uneasy look on her lov
er's face. Ho loves Fanny with all his
heart and strength. He has known
her from the time they went crab-hunting
together among the rocks with the
rest of 'the village children; and yet,
tlmujih hjs heart is so ftist bound to tier
that lie could never tear it away, he
has no sure trust in the willful, be
witching girl. When he thinks of the
future Fanny as his wife and the mis
tress of his ho'nie an undefined, slrift
ing fear is apt to come between John
and his certainty of happiness, a fear
near akin to that he has frit among
the tituu.horous quicksands further
east when he has been seeking anchor
age. He answers, almost solemnly : " Am
I threatening, darling' Then I don't
mean it. 1 mean warning, uot tlireat
eiiing. You see, 1 haven't got so many
words to fit my meanings to, as such a
vleVijr Jittle kt-ss. us you, Fanny. . Ail I
mean is, 1 want to put it clear to you
that when your. ay br, meaning no
harm, only a little teaming in play,
you're playing with feelings a man
can't keen under ; it's as if the devil
was let loose in me, I know. ou
don't think men murder one another
or set purpose, do you, Fanny, when
Fanny turns white, and retreats still
farther from the cliffs edge; then she
gives a little forced laugh.
" I must say, John, you' ve gotstrange
notions of pleasant talk; first, you
scold me till I cry, ami then you npeak
about murder. Now I must go home,
and if you can't trust me to go by the
beachI'll take the long way over the
dills. Are you satisfied now, sir ? ,f
Satisfied! John is radiant at such
unexpected sweet pubniissiori, for the
road on ahead ovr the clifTs is just two
' m VL V" AVr . '..rrvv. st. Wa- h. Mi. i'ij - V ' -S
v- vy"-u "?-jl.-t., u -".vi r. mi iiiz' 1441 ; ni ' 11 "ii'-vrn J w t tv ii u - . ; i
miles round for Fanny, aud when they
began to quarrel she had said nothing
should induce her to go home unless
she went by the beach, where, as John
knew, Captain Standish and his friend
are pacing np and, down in. front of the
" You little duck ! " he, says, and
John offers up a good deal of atone
ment in word and act, which Fanny
receives with many smiles and blushes,
and at last lie lets her go.
" Why not go by the lane ? " he asks.
Fanny nods. " I was just thinking
so,"she says, and she looks back over
ner snouiuer ana smile like an angel
John thinks. - ,
But the smile fades out of her face
more quickly than the rose-color from
those long ribbon-like cloud lines. By
the time she reaches the end of the rock
path her forehead is stunted with
ine pain entis its snelf-like course
along the cliff, aud slopes down to the
left in a steep descent to the road lead
ing to the beach ; on the right it mounts
as steeply to ihe upper part of the vil
lage. A lane with high hedges fringed
with plumy fronds of ladyfern, and
nearer the ground, rarer more minute
kinds nestle like green tassels in the
chinks of loose-piled masses of stone
hidden by long satin strips of hart's
Fanny stands frowning still where
the three ways meet. . She is thinking
" I don't believe he thinks half
ennough about me he wouldn't dare
be so masterful if he did ! " And then
(for a good intention repented of sel
dom gets a second hearing), Fanny tells
herself she is an idiot " A nice slave
I shall be when I'm married, if I'm
never to look at anyone or speak to
anyone but him. .What's the use of
good looks if they're all to be hidden
out of sight ? " and she hardens her
self in this one idea, of her own beauty,
and the amount of admiration due to it.
She stands still, looking wistfully
down the steep lane to the beach. A
sound of voices comes up to her, a
hearty laugh, ami then some words
which bring a blush to her cheeks a
blush of pleasure : her lips part, and her
head is thrown back saucily as two
gentlemen come in sight sauntering up
the path. - 1
" By Jove ! this is lucky."
Captain Staudish takes his cigar out
of his mouth, and says, " Good even
He is-a tall, fair youth, with pale hair
and eyes. There is a washed-out look
about him. Mr. Ilussell has a more
manly aspect : he is short aud thick
set, something or tue buu-terner weed.
Fanny is in such a flutter of vanity
and delight that she hardly knows what
is said to her or what she a us were. .She
has ciuite foreotten her intention of
going straight home, and stands listen
ing and laughing wluie tue captain
John stands listening too just where
Fanny left him listening, and yet not
bearing the querulous scream or the sea
gulls at the foot of the cliff, dipping
their black-tipped wings in tne cream
ing curl of the waves, and then rising
in sudden flight with familiar outspread
feathers, or sinking again slowly as the
air resists their pinions.
But John is not frowning. He smiles
at himself. He thinks that he has
wronged Fanny by his balMormed
fears. "Dearlittle creature! how good
and docile she is, after all ! A girl's
worth nothing if she hasn't a spirit of
her own. Ah! atBideford there'll lie
none of these fellows coming down to
plague honest men ! " : : '
John Fry came back yesterday from
Bideford : he has an uucle there, a fish
erman, who lias onered mm a nan
share of bis boat and his business lor a
ery moderate compensation.
" JoTin ! John Fry, I say 1 Hollo !
wliere are ye ? "
A coast guard, in blue naunei and a
shiny hat, comes running along the
rocky ledge as easily as it it were six
feet wide. '
He stops short when he sees John,
sets his legs wide apart, and both hands
go down to the bottom of his pockets.
" well, uavie?"
"Look alive!" says Davie, with a
red face, and jerking his thumb Ter
his shoulder. V.Yer wanted below;
the Bideford boat is off the rocks, and
there's one a-wantmg yo."
"Wanting of me?"
John pulls off his wideawake, doubles
it un. and then flattens it out witto Dis
strong brown1 hand finally, this 'pro
ceeding having failed to solve his ier-
plexity, moves on to wnere uavie s
thumb is pointing.
" ThereTll be a bit of a gale to-night
afore the boat reaches Minehead," says
Davie ; and then he stands still and
lights his pipe, while John Fry hurries
down to the beach. r 1 "
Unless he had scrambled down the
face of the crag a bold feat for even so
fearless a climber he must follow, the
path Fanny has taken, but he is not
thinking about Fanny as he hurries
aloinr. His uncle at Bideford was an
old man ; tie Baci aircaay naa uue nets-
,J . . . i . . L
ure, and this might be auoiuer. jonn
had few friends or relations, 'but those
lie had he loved with the intensity of a
deep, strong nature, and his heart was
full of auxious jear ior nis uncie ; ue
had left him so well and hearty, and so
full of warm sympaty with his nephew's
So that when John, in his headlong
race, comes suddenly upon the group
or, rather, the pair, for Mr. Russell has
moved oft to a discreet distance the
young fisherman is so bewildered that
for an instant he stands in silent won
For an instant only. It is quite dark
in the narrow lane between those high
fern-crowned hedges. Before one can
note the changes that have come into
the two faces, so near to each other
for Cuptain StandishV whiskers touch
Fanny's cheek as he whispers John's
hand is on the Captain's shoulder, aud
the Captain stumbles backward into
tiie hedge, ; i '
'Keep your distance, will you?"
John says fiercely: "that young wo
man to not free listen to jqUAibt
ery!" " ''
He has grasiuK Fanny's farm while
he speaks, ' and how he hun-ies her
along with him back by the way he
came. . . .. .-.. -, .. ;-, ,
Vehement action has Valmeu. down
the tempest of his anger,-As lie trides
along, he is forcing himself to decide
what he shall say to Fanny. t
He- has a dim remembrance of the
point where he left Davie, aud he stops
short of that. The light lias faded so
complete' that he can, only Justice
Fanny's face plainly. V
Wie is "very white and trembling.
She remembers what John said, just
now about murder, and as self is-usn-ally
paramount in her thoughts, her
terror h that lie' means to flings her
over on to the sharp-pointed rocks be
lowterror so great, so paralyzing, that
she cannot even shriek for help. ' Even .
if she could,' her voice would be power
less against the wailing, screaming ea-
gulls, and the roar of the waves as the
wind lashes them Into foaming tieighU.'
But John has no niiud Vv harm her.
Spito of all, he loved her still, but he
has learned at last to put trust in his
own misgivings, instead of Fanny Hey
wood, U4 Fanny," he says, in a choked voice;
" I brought you here 4q tell you .what
must be said between us two."
He stops aud tries tit clear hu voice,
but it remains hoarso in spite of him.
Fanny takes a little comfort, and looks
up, but his stern set face brings back all
her fear ; she clasps her hands over hei
eye, and cries out with terror. 1 ' j
The strong awful calm that had come
to John after his first outburst gives
way at the cry, and his anger breaks
through like a ground swell betokening
how deep it lies hidden away.
"Be quiet!" he says savagely, and
then the sharp pain nt his heart nerves.
COLUMBIA; TENNESSEEj FRIDAY,
hini, a pain will nerve to self-rriasfery
' ;V Fanny, when I asked 'yotr' if. you
could love me' well enough, to- be my
wife I thought of you as a man thinks,
of a true woman. 1 1 thought I ..wasn't
worthy of your .love, even though I
gave jou my heart and soul in lex
change. I gave 'eio yotif Fnny? -0u
have been first and foremost in every
thought I've had since then.' I'm not
making merit of sodoingrt-I don't know
as I can take, them back. God knows
how I love you still, but I'll not take a
wife who's, not content with the love
I've got to give lier; who'll uot keep
nersen tor me atone. I'll not put my
self in the danger of marrying where I
can't trust." ! ; ; ' "
She had kept her' eyes hidden, and
he had not seen the shame and the sor
row that had. filled them, but . his last
words had stung her. into sudden fire.
"is body asks you to." Her voice
has the taunting ring in it he is least
able to bear. J " I'm not likely to. ask
any man to marry me, Mr. Fry least
of all one whom I've made a great mis
take by ever having anything to do
with. I always felt I'd thrown myself
away, and now I'm sure of it. I'm nt
for something better than a fisherman's
wife, I can tell you a rough brute that
has no manners for his betters. . Let
me go." ; "' .
She pushes him, and at the same mo
ment Davie lounges up. ' , ;
"Did you hear a signal?" he says.
' I'm , thinkin' it came from rbeyond
Hedden's mouth. Come on and tell
the Lieutenant. Why, man, where be
ye going off in the dark alone; 'ull help
noaue ; wait and gie me a help wi' the
John only shook ofT the grasp" his
file 3d had laid on his coat, and hurried
off into the darkness.
" We'll, I'm blowed ! " says Davie,
" there'll be summut more than com-;
mon amiss wi' a steady chap like that
'un afore he'd run a mucker along the
cliff-edge in the dark." , . And Davie
hurries back to tell the Lieutenant of
the signal he. fancied he has heard..
That night no one but the children
went to Lied in the little fishing village.
At about ten o'clock Davie , had
spread tiie alarm of a ship oft Hedden's
Mouth, and the danger was too well
known not to rouse a stirring sympa
thy in all who heard the tidings. Lieu
tenant Roberts and his men had soon
put off in the life-boat, and more than
one of the fishing-boats had followed ;
though the sea was now so wild that
some of the older men shook their
heads and muttered that "It were a
clean temptin'of Providence." Even
in the upper village stray, rumors cl
the excitement below kept the folks
Fanny Heywood lived alone with
her father. He had been village school
master, but was supera uuated now,
and almost childish; his chief ideas
being the correctness and spotless con
dition of his clothing and the beauty
aud irresistible charms of his daughter
Fanny. He saw no use whatever in
sitting up burning candle just because
a ship had been so stupid as to get on
the rocks, and he told his daughter she
would do wisely if she went to bed too.
Fanny gave him a careless answer;
but when he had fairly gone up stairs
she placed hefself at the window and
looked outj in hopes of hearing .news
from some passer uy. .
The girl's heart was very heavy to
night. She had not said one word to
her father., She had not-joked, and
laughed, and tried to bear herself brave
ly; but the pent-up sorrow grew in
its struggle to find vent iu the deep
lone stillness it made her heart heavy
as lead. . - - i , .
The night was very dark.. Fanny
put her head out of the lattice as she
heard n tar-on sound, and the wind
swirling round the house in a wild gust
blew her hair into her eyes, 'the sound
?ame nearer, heavy and lumbering, not
like a mere footstep. . J
"Who's there?" thecalls, as itcoines
nearer ; there is a strong sudden horror
in her, though she could not have
found a name for ;t.
It's me Davie. I be in a barrow
from the rocks down yonder." ' !
"lie s fallen and smashed Ins an
kle," said a deep voice, Which Fanny
recoguizes as that , of the second in
command of the coastguard station;
" I had to come back, so I've brought
him along." . ,
"Is the ship safe?',' says Fanuyy '
" Well, yes," (the man speaks sulki
ly;) "she cried out before she was
hurt. There's one of the boats stove
in that came out after the life-boat."
Fanny's heart gave a sudden bound.
Is any one hurt besides Davie?" she
says, m a taint, scared vcioe.
Well, yes; aud 1 must go ou, Miss,
now, I'm come in to fetch the doctor
out to Joe Porter aud auothcr poor fel
low" Is John Fry down helping with
you ?',' tshe says.-: ....... j ;
Davie strikes in; the gasping tone of
Fanny's words had roused him.;
I'm not easy in mind," he says
" John Fry left me all in a hurry to go
off to the rocks, and there's no one seen
or heard on him since. - John's not the
lad to stau' by with his hands in his
pockets while folks is wanting help."
uerore nis worus are spoKen r annv
is out of the cottage door. She can see
the two ngures in the vague indistinct
light a light that seems . fraught in
itself with doubt and fear, i W ith all
her haste, ; that strange mechanical
quality we call " .habit" makes Fanny
take down a shawl which hangs in the
passage, and wrap , it round her head
and shoulders as she runs into t he road.
She puts out her hand till it toucheshe
coast-guard's arm. ' ' ' ' "' '
".air. Ji,vane, tell any one vou see to
send help to the foot of. the cliffs; and
ten lieutenant iconerts I'm gone there
to look for John Fry." r
"Uone alone Uod help her!" Rut.
a be speaks there is nothing but 'the
vague indistinct glimmer round Kvana
and his charge Fanny has sped on
tar out of sight, down ihe steep fern
banked lane, lighter than it had been
in the upper village, for the sea is lie
fore her. " J
She guesses that the fishermen jird
not gone to bed. and sho knocks lnn.liv
at the firss door she oonies to. . j
Ano d man opens it. vprv i.i n,i
feeble, with a face honeycombed with
wrinkles. He has a lantern in ' hi,
hand, and he holds it up to examine
"Let.ine have iL tatbet .Piufslav."
says the girl, taking the lantern witl a
grasp he is powerless ,.to resist. , " If
there's a a man or. a boy in the house
with you, send them after me to the
foot of Ragged Jack." ,
I ne wonderful power of insin..) l.-w
told her that, if av harm 1
John, her conduct has caused it. She
seesjma hurrying along Uie clitt-patb,
....v.. vn niiu nun mose taunting
words on her.iius.; She k
inch of the path, and John's loving,
protecting care lias taught her tdb. wejl
its dangers. At the foot of thte mas
sive pile of gray roeks, which the vu
lagers, call, "Ragged Jack,", the path
seems to eud euddeuly o abrupt is
theaugle it makes round . the jagged
mastfi ; Fanny -shudders
thinks of the jutting-out crags below, "j
auu huh- uiucil care anil r:nitim u
a . I
WOUUt require, in the d:irknii to fhl- !
low the" abrupt turns of the slippery, J
uneven path. Tim is hparcelv a thought, r
fehe nurnes on so fast that visions, of i
wum may nave Petal I en her lover
seem to lure her on to reach 'them as
they move in bodily shape before her.
At another time Fanny, would have
been frightened of the lonely darkness;
now she heeds nothiug but the longing
to find her lover liefore any one else
can reach lnm. ,'.', , -,
She is near the point, when asoddeii
gust of wind blows out her light not
for long. She has seen, a she carried
it, that old Pugsley hod left matches
inside me lantern
of utter darkness,
. But that niont ;
all alone on that gid-
dy height; witk the moaning, gulping
sound of the hushing waves below,
shakes Fanny from bead to foot.
What if she cannot .find him? What
if he has fallen to the bottom of the
cliff, and the hungry waves, ebbing
back; have curried him along with them
forever? ; ;
Her fingers grew unnerved and trem
bling sjie cannot relight the, lantern.
Eventosne' 'finds him he Will uot be
alive. He may be an undistinguisha
ble mass of broken bones and wounds
,-r-too dreadfti) to think af. ; i a ;
Flame at last, and with it the girl's
courage rekindles. She trembles still,
but she draws her shawl .more closely
round her ami goes forward, not so fast
but mora steadily.
Tliere is a heart, after all, in her vain
little- Body a- heart' that almost, for
the first time in her life, is speaking to
her more of another than to herself
and the longing to help and comfort
John for his own sake is overmastering
any selfish dread. f - ?
She stops and holds the lantern high
above her head. Just before her, black
in the yague light, Ragged Jack stands
out as if to stop her way. A sudden
chill at her heart and she lowers her
lantern -'to the ! path's edge; Fanny
could never remember why she did
this it was a strong impelling instinct,
looks, and then she shrinks back, sick
and white, against the rock wall beside
her. If John yet lives, he is lying be
low , where she stands., The, path is
broken away, and there are signs that
large, bits of rock have been freshly
loosened from its edge and hurled down
to the sea.
And as the reality forces itself upon
Fanny that she must descend that fear
ful precipice alone in the darkness, face
to face with the moaning, wailing ea
a moaning and wailing which echoes
heavily and hopelessly every thought
of terror Fannys courage flies in one
long shuddering sigh, and she sinks on
her knees sobbing.
The attitude, or a power beyond her,
brings. prayer Jo her Jips:, "Oh, my
father! save-'him help me!" The
words seem to nerveher perhapsthey
remind her she is uot so helpless. She
lies down ou her face, and drags herself
to i ithe : edge. Joan 1 John Vey 1 ,
John, darling! do you hear me?"
The wind is lulling fast, aud her voice
sounds clear through the night air.
No answer comes ; the silence seems
more awful, and the moan of the
wave more awfully truejn their fore
boding. . I , ; ! .
Desj)erately, she raises herself, aud
sends her voice out iu one loud pierc
ing cry. ... I.
Then she strains her ear to listen.
Far off seemingly as far as the bay
on the other side or Kagged Jack
an, . answer ,epnies, but ,iu , a sound, of
many voices ; and then nearer,' aTmost
close, so it seems by contrast, a feeble
whistle. . 7,, . , , . , -,r ;.:-
All her fears are gone; she only chides
at her ,qwu 4ehy. .Still holding the
lantru in one hand, she feels her way
cautiously, foot by foot, down the cliff,
till she finds at last a standing place.
She knows where she is now ; the crag
puts out here into a huge jagged rock,
with a bu'ih or. two on it, and theu goes
sheer down to the sea. .. ;
Again, close -'beside ' her, the whistle
sounds lounder than liefore. ' "
She calls, but no auswer comes and
then she holds, the lantern so that Its
light falls . below rier.
Close to lier--so close that her next
downward footstep would liave been set
on his face John Fry is lying with shut
eyes; He has been caught, seemingly,
between the" bushes, growing on the
edge, for only , his head aud chest are
Fanny kneels down ; site touches his
face timidly, with her hand, and then
draws it back, shuddering, r
:. -'John ! John, darling ! Open your
eyes! Speak to me !' - "
He lies there as stil as the gray rock,
almost as cold. She forgets thedanger
of falling; she twines her arms round
him ; she murmers to him, and presses
warm kisses on his face. ,
;"Oh, John,-my darling! my dar
ling! a Look at me just once; let me
hear you say once you forgive my wick
She might a-- w.ell ;cry .to the ry-k
itself; and yet, as she presses her lips
on his, it seems as if some warmth lin
gered in tlicm. . ,.
Suddenly .she raised her head, and
cries out ioud for help. A strange
sound has reached ' her. -he listens
breathlessly: ( Yes,' they are coming.
Overhead she hears voices, and, from
the sea, the strong regular pull of oars.
" John Fry was taken home alive, but
there came weeks of anxious watching
before, he was able to' walk once more
beside Fanny' Heywood, to the scene of
his- fearfu! fall and then ' he ' walked
with crutches. ', ' ' '" '
Fatjny sinifes brightly on her lover's
faccVLShe is trying to cheer the sadness
that, spite of his efforts, clouds, the
strong man's eye atttimesj, for) it Is
very hard to John Fry to realize that
he is crippled fur, Jife -but under the
girl's smiles is a' tender, fcnbdued look
new to her face. It may be that the
bitter tears she- has shed during h r
long, patient nursing, have left their
trace-i-tear9', not only of sorrow for her
lover's sufferings, but of contrition i for
the part she had acted toward him- .
"Fanny!" (John had stood in sc
ience for some minutes lieside ihe
broken pathway) " I don't think you
and I will quarrel again; will Sve, tiar-
iig?'? i j ,y .; r- ;j
He looks at her, smiling, with his
deep, loving eyes, and she tries to answer-
brightly; 'but' the' recollection
of that foolish quarrel and its ending
masters her, aud tears come instead of
words. -' ' '
"Hash!" he whispers softly ; "you'll
smiil vimrswMevei. wv darliiiar.'aiMl
r they're my eyes now at least they will
ue atter thursuay." , .
Fanny hides the eyes on his shoul
der, i t'Don't ask me to promise, dar
ling," she whispers.'' "While you're
been so ill I've learned more about my
self than I ever tliought to know, i I
wonder how you find anything to love
in a girl who can put. no trust in her
self." ' ' ' ' '
There is no need to tell John's an
, . ; , Snndri Facts. j
Tlie:number or languages sjiokeL is !
:,0u4. Tho number of men is about i
equal to the nunilier of women. The J
average of hunianUfe years. - On$ j
quarter' die before the age or seven.
Vne uait tieiore " .-;iiicrii. j
To every : l,0t persons, one only
reaches the age oi 1U0 years. To every
100 only Six reach the age of 63; and
not more than one in 500 reaches the
age of 80 vears- There are on the earth
l,000,000,lRWof inhabitants ' Of these,
33,a'B, die every year; 91,823 die
every day -7,) every' hour, aud. 00
every' .minute of oue every second. ...
.The losses are more; than balanced
by the number ot births,; .The married
are longer lived than the single; and,
above all,' those who observe a sober
and industrious conduct. '. 1 all men
live longer than short ones, ; Women
have more chances of life previous to
tiie age oiiuj umn iueu, wi
fwcr after.' ' The number of marriages
f. ...... . . . ti ....... i . .
F$ JU 11117 i" "1 '
or more freouent aftprthc eutii-
Ui in th iro)Hruoii 01 4-1 10 iuu. jiar-
noxes, that is, duriug the months of j
thha and December. Those bom in
the spring are generally more robust
than others. Birtns and oeatns are
more frequent by night than by day. (
The number of men capable of bearing
arms ,is estimated at atiout one-fourth
of the population. ; :. - J ..
A youtli eveuteen years old was ar-
t rested the other day at Essex Junction,
Vt, who had stolen a revolver from his
Amnfnvef. find SUDDuecl hSmSPlf AVith a f
4 T I ' j .1-
of false i whinkeny for the purpose of
playing the highwayman in order to j
get money to take him tq Canada.
FfiBKUARV; 18, 1570.;
Wonderful Deliverancm f Great Men.
Some years ago a young man hold
ing a subordinate position, In, the iuist
India Company's . service, i twice at
tempted to deprive himself of life by
snapping a loaded pistol at his head.
Each . time the pistol missed fire. A
friend entering his room shortly after
wards,' he requested him to fire it out
othe window; it theu went off with
out.' any, difficulty Satisfied that the
weapon liad . been duly prirred and
loaded, the young man sprang up. ex
claiming: ..- I must be reserved for
something great !" and from that mo
ment gave up the Idea of suicide, which
for some time previous had been upper
most, in his thoughts.- That young
man afterwards became Lord Clive. ..
Two brothers were on one occasion
walking together, when a violent storm
of thunder and lightning overtook
them.' One was struck, dead on the
spot, the other was spared ; else would
the name of the great reformer, Mar
tin Lutlter, bavo been unknown to
The holy St Augustine, having to
E reach at a distant town, took with
itn a guide, who by some unaccounta
ble means mistook the usual road aud
fell into a by-path. , He afterwards dis
covered that his enemies, having heard
of his movements, hod placed them
selves in the proper road with a design
of murdering him. '
Baron, the sculptor, when a tender
boy of five years old, fell into the pit of
a soap-boiler, and must have perished,
had not a workman , just entered and
observed the top of his head, and im
mediately delivered, himr
When Oliver Cromwell was an in
fant, a monkey: snatched him from his
cradle, leaping with him through a
garret window and ran along the leads
of the house. The. utmost consterna
tion was excited among the inmates.
and various devices were used to rescue
the child from the guardianship of the
newly-found protector.'; AH were una
vailing;' his would-be rescuer had lost
all courage, and were in despair of ever
seeing the baby alive again, when the
monkey quietly retraced its steps and
deposited its burden safely on the bed.
On a subsequent occasion the .waters
had well nigli quenched his insatiable
ambition. He fell into a deep pond,
from drowning in which a clergyman
named Johnson was the sole instru
ment of his rescue.
At the siege of Liecester, a young
soldier, about seventeen years of age,
was drawn out for sentry duty. Oue
of his comrades was anxious to take
his place! No objection was made,
and the man went. He was shot dead
while on guard. . The young man first
drawn became the author of the Pil
i Doddridge when born was so weakly j
an infa.it that he was believed to be
dead. A nurse standing by fancied she
sawlsome signs of vitality. Thus the
feeble spark of life was saved from be
ing extinguished and an eminent au
thor and consistent Christian preserved
to the world.
John Wesley when a child was only
just preserved from fire. Almost the
moment he w;as rescued, the roof of
the house where he had been fell in.
Many years have now elapsed since
three subalterns might have been seen
struggling in the water of St. Helena;
one of tliem was succumbing. He was
saved to live as Arthur SVellesley,
Duke of Wellington.
The life of John Newton is but tiie
history of a marvelous deliverance. As
a youth he had agreed to accompany
some friend on board a man-of-war.
He arrived too late ; the boat in which
his friend had gone was capsized and
all the occupants drowned. On an
other occasion, when tide surveyor iu
the port of Liverpool, some business
had detained him, so that he came to
his boat much later than usual, to the
great surprise of those who were in the
habit of observing his punctuality. He
went out in the boat as heretofore to
inspect a ship, which blew up before
he reached her. Had he left the shore
a Tew minutes sooner, he must have
perished with the rest on board.
i . -. I ' ' :
Josh Billings Dl!teonreth.
Dear Girls, areyu in search ov a hu-w
band? . .
This iz a pumper, nnd yu are uot re
quired tew say "Yes" out loud, but are
expekted tew throw yure eyes down
onto the earth, as tho yu was looking
for a pin, and reply tew the interroga
tory with a kind of drawliu sigh,:uz
tho yu waz eating an oyster, juice and
all, off from the half sliell. ;
ot tew press a tender theme until
it bekums a thorn in the flesh, we will
presume (tev avoid argument) that yu
are ou the !ook out for sumthing in the
male line tuw boost yu in the up-hill
ov life, and tew keep his eyes on the
britliing when yu begin tew go down
the other side ov the mountain. Let
me give yu some small chunks ov ad
vice how tew spot jnire fewter. hus
band: ' l" '
1. The ivmii who iz jeJlous ov every
little attenshun which yu git from sum
other fellow, yu will find, after yu are.
married tew him, luvs himself more
than he duzyu. and what yu mistook
for solissitude, yu will diskover, has
changed into indifference. Jellousy
isn't a heart diase; it iz a liver kom
plaint. .,. . ' '
2. A mustash is not indispensable ;
it is only u little more hair, and iz a
good deal like moss and other excres
sences often duz the best on sile that
won't raize eunythiug else. -Don't fid
get that thoze things which yu admire
in a phellow before marriage, yu will
probably hav tew admire in a husband
after, aud a mustash will get , tew be
;very weak diet after a long time.
3. If husbands could Lie tot . k ou trial
az irish cooks are, two thirds ov them
would probably be returned ; but there
don't seen tew lie enny law for this.
Therefore, girls, yu will see that after
yu get a man, yu( hav got, tew kteji
him, even if yu looz on him. Conse
quently, if yu hav got eimykoM vittles
in the lions, try him on them, once in
a while, during scouring season, and if
he swallows them well, and sez he will
take sum more, he it a man
when blue Monday cums, will
well. '"' "
4. Don't marry a pheller who is al
wiiz telliu how hiz muther duz things.
It iz ax hard tew suit theze rraen az it
iz to wean a yung one.
o. If a yuug man kan beat yu play-
! mg on a planner, and kanthear a nsb-
horn playing in the streets without
turning a back summersett on account
ol the musick that iz in him, I say Arip
him ; he might auswer tew tend labe,"
but if yu'set him hoeing out the gar
den, yu will find that yu hav got tew
do it yureself. A man whoze whole
heft lies in music, (and not very hefty
at that,) ain't no better for a husband
than a seedlitiz powder; but if he luvs
tew listen while yu sing sum gentle
ballad, yu will find him mellow and
not soft. But don't marry enuybody
for jist one virtew enny quicker than
yu would flop a man for jist, one
fault. ! . ;. .. : '
6. Itiz one of the mot-t tutt'est tilings
for a female tew be an old maid sue
cessfully. A grate menny haz tried it, ,
and made a bad jobov it. Everybody 1
seems tew look uxu old maids jist az
they do upon dried harbs in the gar-
I", iimniv im nii-ii-cps- unu. uiereiorp.
cirls. it ain't a mistake that vushnnM I
Ue willing to swopjuelf oph, with
sum true phellow, tor husband.' The
swop vi a good one ; but don't swop
for enny man who iz respektabel jist
U'kause his father iz. "i u had better
lie an old maid for 4 thousand venr
and then join the Shakers, than tew
buy repentance at this price. Xo
mnn fVfr rnrnl t1.!u ImLi -1.,v .it.i..t. '
. " , s
either a pnnoi, a mean ens.
... - ,
ciowu ior a uuuana.
7. In diggin down into this subject 1 1
find the. digging roe harder thefurther
1 get. It iz mutch easier tew inform
yu who not tew'marry, than who tew,
for the reason there iz more ov, them.
I don't think yu will foller mi ad
vise, if i give it ; aud, therefore, 1 will
keep it, for i look upon advise as I do
upon castor He a mean dose tew giv,
and a mean dose tew take.
. But i must say one thing, girls, or
pile. If yu can find a bright-eyed.
healthy, and well ballasted boy, who
looks upon poverty az sassy as a child
looks upon wealth who had rather sit
down on the curb-stun, in front ov the
oth avenue hotel, and eat a bam, sand
wich, than tew go inside, and run in
debt for hiz dinner and toothpick one
who iz armed with that kind ov pluck,
that mistakes a defeat for a victory,
mi advise is tew take him boddy anu
soul snare him at tinst, for he is
stray trout, of a breed very skase in our
Take him, I say, and bild onto him,
as hornets bud on to a tree.
- Dr. 'Win. H. Beatty. a resident of
Mobile, writes the following to the Mo
bile fiegmter, in relation to that dread
nil disease, termed Meningitis, now
prevailing to an alarming extent in
that city :
"The disease (Cerebrospinal Menin
gitis) is prevailing so extensively in
portions of the city, and is so almost
universally fatal when not treated un
til it is fully formed, that I have
thought I might do good by calling at
tention, through the press, to the pro-
monitory symptoms. Unfortunately,
in a great many cases, these are entire
ly absent the patient being in his usual
health and spirits up to the very mo
ment of his seizure, but very generally
the attack is preceded by more or less
pain of the head, especially in the fore
head and back of the head. The pain
is usually constant, but sometimes in
termittent. Pain is a!so frequently felt
in the back of the neck, with soreness
of the joints and limbs. In some Cases
there is giddiness, with dimness of vis
ion or dullness of hearing. Occasion
ally the attack commences with a feel
ing of chilliness, succeeded by slight
fever; these alterations of heat and
chilliness frequently occurring. Or,
finally, the attack may commence
with severe pain iu the stomach or
bowels, with great nausea and perliaps
vomiting. When any jf these symp
toms . show themselves in a locality
where the disease is prevailing, no time
should lie lost in consulting a physi
cian, for, if taken in its early stages,
no disease yields more readily to treat
ment : whereas if left to fully develop
itself, there is no disease which is more
uniformly fatal, resisting, most fre
quently, every plan of treatment.
ery respectfully, .
W. H. Beatty, M. t.
Iloir to be Handsome..
Most people like to be handsome
Nobody denies the great power any
person may have who has a good face,
and who attracts you by good looks,
even before a word has lieen spoken
And we see all sorts of devices in men
and women to improve their good
looks paints ami washes, and all kinds
of cosmetics, including a plentiful an-
noinuug with dirty hair oil.
Now, uot every oue can have good
features. I hey ore as God made them
but almost auy one can look well, es
peciaUy with good health. It is hard
to give rules iu a very short space, but
in oner these will no.
Keep clean wash freely and univer
sally with cold water. All the skin
wauts is leave to act freely, and it will
take care of itself. Its thousauds of
air holes must not be plugged up.
Eat regularly and simply. The
stomach can no more work all the time,
night and day, than a horse ; it must
have regular work and regular rest,
Good teeth are a help to good looks.
Brush them with a soft brush, esiiecial
ly at night. Go to bed with the teeth
clean. Of course, to have white teeth,
it is heedful to let tobacco alone.
Any powder or wash lor the teeth
should lie very simple. ' Acids may
whiten the teeth, but they take off the
enamel or injure It.
Sleep in a cool room, in pure air. No
one can have a clean skin who
breaths bad air. But more thou all, in
order to look well wake up the mind
and soul. '
When the mind is awake, the dull,
sleepy look passes away from the eyes.
I do not know that the brain expiuds,
but it seems to. Think, read not
trashy novels, but books that have
something in them. - Talk with people
who know something ; hear lectures.
and leant by them.
This Is one of the effects-of good
preaching. A man thinks and works,
and tells us the result. Aud if we lis
ten, and hear, and uuderf tand, the
mind and soul are worked. If the
spiritual nature is aroused, so much the
better.. We have seen a plain face
really glorified by the love of God and
man which shone through it. , Let us
grow handsome. Men say they can't
aflord books, and sometimes they don't
even pay for their newspaper. Iu that
case, it does them little good they
must feel so mean while reading it.
But men can afford what they really
choose. If all the money spent iu self
indulgence, in hurtful indulgence, were
spent iu books and self-iinproveincitt,
we could a change. Men would
grow handsome, and women, too.
The -soul would shine out through the j
eyes. e were not meant to be mere
animals. Iet us have books, and read
them, and sermons, and heed them.
The Kllxlr of louth.
A medical magazine in England an
nounces a new remedy for the infirmi
ties of old age. Thus far it gives a re
port of only one case, but the publica
tion of this will probably make ether
smelling bottles common among per
sons of advanced age, particularly if
they are also irritable and cross. The
account of it is as follows :
" Sir Frederick Pollock, best know n
to his countrymen as the late Cliief
Baron of the Exchequer, has long been
remarkable for great mental and phvs-
i ical energy. He is now eighty-six
years of age, and to the great wonder
and joy of his friends Ids strength
scarcely in any way fails him. Still
some years ago ho suffered from the
indefinable nervous mufaixc which is
incident to old age, and which some
times makes itseif known in painful
spasms more or less connected with the
digestive system. It was necessary to
nnu some drug mat would be at once
stimulant aud narcotic in its efiect,
such as tobacco or opium. Tliese
drugs, if taKtn in moderation, are often .
iounu oi great oeuent in old age, as
soothers of its nervous troubles;' but
unfortunately they failed to suit Sir
Frederick Pollock, or ther did not nm.
duce the desired effect. He therefore
tried ether tiie best rectified etlier-
which he Inhaled from an ordinary
uonie apimeu io tme nostril; and let
us state, in pastinir. that the safety of
the experiment to some extent depend j
on tho ifilialati.... if vl4. i.
on the inhalation of the epirit through
umjr une nostril.
" A few whifts taken in this way re
moved spasms and pai, and induced
a general tranouilitr of thr
Vim ini,aWw..., ' i-.. ' . - I
m'stpm. . xir t.v.t.1- ..
in consequence magnificent health,
The ouaniitv of ethP? wl.w. l, .ls. is
variable : sometimes it amounts to sev
eral ounces a day; but how much of
this escapes anil how much of it alv f
sorbed into the system It would bediffi-
nut r aiim.i.. if k. uMoiMMPil that
but verv smtdl Quantities of ether can f
... .' i .. ltili.il.atltnt n i
I,.... H.oriiwl idiwo not onlr doe 1
a iv iaa rJ - " I
much ewane at once into the air, our '
... '. ... . . . i i 1
also of that which i actually inlialed
a large proportion is again exhaled. !
VOL XAr NO 26;
Never in any case is so- much of the
vapor absorbed as to disturb conscious.
. i I, - . ,1 . .
nesa or to ciovu uie uucneci. vsor
sleep in any way at all compelled, al
though by the removal of nervous f
ritability it la favored. . .
"Sir Frederick Pollock Is, we ob
serve, able to sleep for as many
eleven hours oat of the twenty-four
but this includes a regular mkt-day siesta.-
Whether the remedy which he
nas found so bannv In its . effects on
himself will suit others who may suffer
from the irritability of advancing years
a question In which London medical
men are just now much interested."
. Something .stunning A slung-shot
Girls say that men are a covet-us
Safe place for a tempest Iu a tea
Gymnastic Jumping at a conclu
rig headed people have a palate for
r High tied A man swinging at the
Cordial reception One given from a
Wine glass. ; .
. Not a good sheet to slwep under A
sheet of water. ,
Heavy larcenies Stealing
and lead. .
The fellow who sphfthe difference is
a wood chopper.
The world Is round So are lively
young men at night.
t ndergronnd business Getting at
the root of the thing.
The person who took things easy was
a quiet son or thief.
The most common end with a shoe
makerHis waxed end.
A southern paper suggests clean nnp-
Kins to saloon keepers in this way :
" Napkins can't be made to run a week
. . . . i ....
without getting wearied," . .
Some of the Bostonians say they are
usually gratified at receiving speci
mens of New Hampshire granite, but
they would prefer not to have them
packed in butter. '
Said an astronomer to a bright-eved
girl, when talking of rainbows : "Did
you ever see a lunar bow miss?"
have seen beaux by by moonlight, sir,
lr that's what yon mean," was the shy
Of the coming Fat Men's Conven
tion at Lewiston,. the Waterville (Me.)
JTfsays: "If the convention will
weigh their brains against their bel
lies, they will find that extremes have
met."' '.. - .. . :.. ; .. .
At the celebration of the Lord's Sup
per in Bradford, Mass-, last Sabbath,
by Rev.. Mr. Kingsbury's church, the
silver goblets used by the church in
1730, one hundred and forty years ago,
were made use of.
Rev. Matthew Hale Smith was set
tled as a pastor over a Methodist
church at Brattleboro, Vermont, when
he was eighteen years old, and since
that time has been a Reformed Dutch,
Baptist, and Episcopalian. ....
The Boston Trantcript and Traveller
newspapers liave employed female
compositors siuce the famous strike of
1 hey receive men s wages, work
full hours, and average $18 per week
. Morgan, who was recently hanged
at Terra Haute, made the following
reasonable remark m his "valedicto
ry:" "Well, I don't know that
have much to say, except that I had
better be going." He went
' fliA .iAti f n'fnAV IiIta tliA Iiot svrtA
l"T4tllk T Alt U.I y Itav KICl j
has thus far belied all the cold weather
prophesies of goose-bone, beaver, musk-
rat, bird-flights, and other examiners.
The frigid predictions that circulated
so freely a month ago are seen no more.
The stock brokers of New York have
in their employ a corps of detectives to
protect them from members of the
swell mob, sneak-thieves, pickpockets
and others of the ligtit-nngered gentry
who have been wont to hover about
the Stock Exchange.
Brick Pomeroy is ready to bet oue
hundred thousand dollars' werth of
printing material aud machinery, pai
for and in opera tiou, against ten thou
sand dollars in cash, that he will not
fail or suspend the publication or any
one of his four newspapers in it.
At a marriage lately consummated
at Ottawa, Canada, $2,000 were dona
ted to the poor. :
A little girl six years old was found
drunk in the streets of Patersou, N J.
the other night.
Railroads in South Carolina liave re
duced their fare to immigrants to one
cent a mile.
Vermon has 523 physicians.
St.; Petersburg has 10,800 cab drivers,
There are only two bachelors in the
New York Legislature. : .
An English gentleman in Devon
shire lias conceived the idea of stock
ing ills park with live snakes, and ha.
begun to introduce the reptiles, to the
great indignation and terror of .his
neighbors, iho have resolved to try
the American remedy of an injunction
A gentleman iu Petenbunr. Ya the
other day, lor a wager, ate one gallon
of fresh oysters, minus the shells and
liquor, at one sitting. . . -
An old lady at Windsor. England.
was saved from burning to death by her
pet parrot, wno, seeing her iu names,
called out to her sleeping son, "Harry,
get up!" .
The Philadelphia .Mercantile Libra
ry now contains over 50,000 volumes.
Last year 4,254 were added to it. The
average Issue per day' during the vcar
?rfs 'H i t.) . i
At the Metropolitan cattle show, re
cently held at London, England, the
superiority of American implements in
lightness aud beauty was unanimously
Alexis St. Martin, whose side was
shot away in 1822, in such a manner
as to exiiose the action of the digestive
organs to the surgeon's eye, is still
alive and weJl in : Cavendish, Vt
York, Maine, was the first city
bartered iu this country. Now it Is
a country village of 800 voters.. Its
name was first Agamenticus, then
the city of Georges or Georgians, tlren
York. : . . ,,...,
No citizen of Japan can leave that
country without giving bonds that lie
will return at the time specified.
Out of 192 Ohio divorce coses grunted
last year, the custody of the chifdre m
S34 suits was given to the mother,
ti... j,.h i i- n- i -
..... . f J--f lt ltllJW 111
one Mormon framily that has buried
143 children. , ! j
1 ,,e tradeorganizations in New York
8, with a
fJm - T,,ey ,iave iu
bank about t-',
A gentleman of Iroiitou, Ohio, nieet-
imr a little hov . in tiie street uare-
m, I,:... n
oUierday toojTa.mjMnJN take a moral fro
dhthim a lir of shots .ory, and I wdl.ng m
g. In the evening he re- not Jt now ho m
on him, and
ceived them back, with an hid gnant
note from the boy's father, stating that
he was better able to buy shoes and
stocking for his son than the gentle
man was. and it turned out to be true,
the fiither lieingarich old miser, who
allowed hi family to sutler for the nec
essaries of life.
A professor In a Southwestern col
lege being asked why he married, af- gives statistic to prove that in Ohfci
ter having lor many years itociaimeu , mere are -tfi.ow more men than wo-,J
mamst matrimony, replied. i iook
the rash step in the hope tht my f
frlior.iii.Uur vmiM nWiir (lie
leave me a fortune
sufficient t enable
me to retire ironi tne uruugcij . .ias.a:isuscus mere
i t i .T lr. . .. . I .... ... A .... .i .
rary and scholastic life, and set
cake shop at a railway station."
Carrie and. Frank were ewnding
happy day -by the seaside. The sua .
shone on the crested waves, and there
was Just breeze enough to temper Its
heat They rambled along the smooth.
glUten ing beach, gathering pretty peb
bles and shells till they had filled their
Httle Indian baskets ween of bright
colored porcupine quills scarlet, green,
yellow and blue. Then after dinner
they played in the clean, sparkling
sand, building forts and castles, and
writing with their fingers. They were
busy thus when their mother called to
them : ,
" Children," she said, u the tide is
coming in, and auntie and I are going
farther np to sit and watch HL You
may come now or play longer where
you are, but keep near us."
Frank and Carrie by this time were
really tired, and it was very pleasant
to sit still a while, listening to the
sound of the waves as they roiled a
little farther up the shore every time
till they had quite washed away the
children's letters. ! -
" Yes," said their mother, when they
called her at ten tiou to it, " and there
are other things like that Good reso
lutions, generous impulses are tor.
often written on sand, swept away by
iue nt-Ai wave oi sein.sn pleasure or
care. Those that are fixed In light
deeds and gentle words are wrought
into the soul's life, and remain forever
like characters graven in the solid
rock. But some tilings we had for
better write in sand if we write them
at all. Can either of you tell me what
" I guess you mean troubles," Frauk
"Yes, in part. Our troubles' come
to make us better and stronger, and
we can so use them if we wilt And
the little vexations and disappoint
ments that cross our wav we nan moot
cheerfully and soon put a-dde if we are
living with an earnest nurnosp. a fm!
desire to make others lianov.- ttut
what were you telling me a dav or two
ago, Carrie, about some of your school
Oh, I rememlier I said I kIioiiM
love Kitty Clyde clearly if she did not
have such teasing wavs: and Ann
Clark fa always kind and generous, too,
but she gets provoked so easily."
"That's just like Fred l'ionmn
chimed in Frank. " I should like him
first rate if it wasn't for that"
Their mother smiled. "Do van bom
what I mean now ? she said. " Yon "
admit that, aide from these faults,
they are pleasant, lovable companions.
These are the things to write on sand,
io w overswepi oy waves or lonretful-
ness. Don't let them excite unkind
feelings in your hearts, but holn Vonr
friends by kindness and love to
better every dav : never foiwt th
yon have faults, attd give to otliers the
same forbearance yon would like to re
ceive." At tea-time the children were mrpr
to tell their father about their nloaAnnt
time on the beach, and they did not
forget their mother's wonls. H lis
tened with pleaded attention, and re
marked to his wife,
i nat reminds me of Mrs. Norton's
poem, Writing on Sand' Do you re
Yes, very well." she n-nliod- "'r
thought of it to-day."
t nat is it. father?" asked Carri.
' Won't you read it to us, please?'
Her father went to tiie bookcase ami
took out a volume. The poem he read
Is so beautiful you may like to read it
too. It would be Well for ns all tn
take into heart and live the lesson it
WHITIXU OX N.4!.
Akna I wallM-d th orpn Mntnd ;
A pearly slint' antitifl nty hdt. ' "
I HtooMl and vrtte uimki the uuhI
My nnnw. ihe yenr. he ilay.
An on wart I from the xnot I pivfrwri.'
One iiiKfring look behind I cl
A wave ntm rolling high ami fcst. '
And wa-lHil my llnrs away.
So. mpf nought, 'twill shortly ).
W ith ewry trace on rth of me; : '"
2; A wave from ilaik oblivion's Mm !
Will loll across the ptuee
Where I have trod thesnnriv xhoro
Of time, and wen. to lie ao more -Of
me, myday, therame I bore, . .
To leave nor track nor trace.
And yet with Him whocotinlstheands
And holds the waters in His hands.
I know a lasting record srands
In-o-rilwd against mr name.
Of all this mortal path hath wrought.
Of all this thinking soul h:ith thought.
And from these fleeting uiomentscanaht
Kor glory or for sha me.
How a Lad Wheeled Hiinseir into for
tune and Inflneare. . . '
At a meeting of the stockholders of a
prominent railway corporation, recent
ly held in this city, there was present
two gentlemen, both well un in years.
one, however, considerably the senior
of the other. In talking of old times
gone by, the younger gentleman called
the attention of his friends and told a
pleasant little story which should be
read with profit by every poor, indus
trious and striving lad. We use his
own language :
" Nearly half a century ago, gentle
men, I was put upon the worlI to make
my living. I was stout, willing and
able, considering my then tender yews,
and secured a place in a hardware store
to do all kinds of chore rertuired. I
was paid seventy-five dollar ner rear
for my boyish services. One dar. after
I had been at work three mouths or
more, my friend there, Mr. B., who
hold bU age remarkably well, came
into the store and bought a large bill of
shovels and tongs, sad-iron and pans,
oucKeis, scrapers anu scuttles, tor ne
was to be married next dav. and wu
supplying his houseliold in advance, as
was Uie groom's custom in those days.
The articles were packed on the barrow
and made a load sufficiently heavy for
a young mule. But, more willing than
able, I started oft; proud that I could
move such a massou the wheel barrow.
I got on remarkably w"ll till I struck
the mud road, now Seventh avenue,
leading to my friend IVs house. There
toiled and tugged, and tugged and
toiled, but could not budge the load up
the hill, the wheel going its full half
diameter n the mud every time I
would try to projiel forward Finally ,
good-natured irishman passing bv
with a tlray txk my barrow, self and
all on his vehicle, and in consideration
of my promise to nay him a bit ' land
ed meat my destination. I counter!
the . articles carefully as I delivered
them, and with my empty barrow
trudged my way back, whistling with .
glee over my triumph over difficulty.
home weeks after, I paid the Irishman
the 'bit,' and never got It back from "
my employers. Mr 11, I am sure,
would liave remunerated me, but he -never
before lteard this story, so if be. '
i inclined he can compromise the debt
by sending me a bushel of his rare ripe
prnehe next fall.) But to the moral.
A merchant had witnessed lwT strug
gles, aud 1mw zealousy I latored to de
liver that load of hardwire; lie even
wate" ed me to the houv. and wtw me.
count each piece a J 'landed it iu the "
tloorvray. H cp r,,r me fcX.
asked me, nu -
u-.nl tnr mv industry and cheerfulness
under dinlcuity in the shai of a Are
undred-doiiar cierKsnip in un t?u?n-
. .... . i i i
sive estaoii.sunieni. i uccvjncu, uu
now, aifter nearly a Hair century lias
!. I look lack and say I wheeled
myself into all I own, for that reward r
of perseverance was my grand stepping '
stone to fortune." ,
The speaker wa a very wealthy
bunker, u man of influence and posi
tion, audone universally respected Jbr
nmnv rood tinalitles of head anil heart.
- 17 . 1;...
moral ironi turn i.ui
many eyes are '
upon you to discover whether you are
sluggish and careless, or industrious
and willing, or how many tliere are
w1m, if you art moral and worthy, will
give you a fepping stone to wealth ar.d
lKsitiinw PUttlttiryU Gazette. y - -
Girls arc respectfully requested to go
West by a careful investigator, who
men; in .Mk-hlgaii, -HMXW: m Califor
i fl.noo and mother Srste similar
i pmprtions. On the comtary, New
I England has an excess of women. Ir
Iu llhode Island.
noiurii mini men ;
and In Onnectcut,
. i;..r S-5- ifimexxm..