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READ CAREFULL W. C. WESTMINSTER CH AT FAMOUS ONE-PRICE -0 GEO. W. ALBAUGH, jB” We are now offering Elegant Sty Overcoats and Men’s Furnishing Valises, Umbrellas, Boots, Shoes, Goods Generally, Lap and Hors Tailor-Made Suits, Satin et UR UASSIMERE AND COATING ST STYLE ALL FORMER STOCKS, OUR FACILITIES FOB SELLING YOU PRICES, ARE UNEQUALLED, AND NO WE ARE HEADQUARTERS GOODS, NOTIONS Upon entering our CENTER BOOM you when we say our stock in this line IS IMME ways adding the new goods as they come out, as being THE LOWEST. We establish the by the way we are often opposed by small co expense, as in all others. We endeavor to penses down in every department at much le run for. This advantage we give our custom stand by us. We have done already a big Our Ready-Made Shirt an We have Ladies' and Children’s Muslin . Jackets, Capes, &c., including all the differe -of our Underwear and prices. LADIES’ AND CHILDRE We are doing very well already in this dep ■and “Why?” We have now in onr Cloak R PBOM SI.OO We ask all to look at this line and the pric GEO. W. A We will have another large Grocery and Housekeep And will again meet the views of all by giv Rare Bargains in Queonsw We are handling crate after crate of these line of goods. Call and examine our assort Our business is immense. We are CASH we are package and large-lot purchasers. W we are satisfied with what we are doing,” and GEO. W. A oct 10,tf ABB NOW OPEN With a complete line of DDD RRR Y Y GGG OO OO DDD DDRRYY OGOOOOD Dl * I) D KRR YY G 000 O D D n SS s D I) B R Y G GO GOOD D* 2 DDD R R Y GGG OO OO DDD 6M NOTIONS, &c., FOR FALL AND WINTER WEAR. Our stock has been bought for cash, our expenses are very light, therefore enabling us TO SELL VEBY CHEAP. WE SELL 4-4 Unbleached Muslin at 4c per yard. 4-4 Bleached Muslin at 5c per yard. Bed Ticking 6}c per yard. Dark Calico 4c per yard. Best Calico 6c per yard. Satin Finish Calico 7c per yard. Elegant Dress Goods 6c per yard. ALL NEW GOODS; NO OLD STOCK ON HAND. In Our Notion Department We are doing splendidly. We have an Elegant Line of Children’s Hosiery, all colors, very cheap. A splendid LINE OF TOWELS, NAPKINS, AC., which, at the price we sell them at, cannot be beat. Come at once AND TAKE A LOOK AT OUR STOCK. We feel satisfied the prices will suit you. MILTON SEN FT, Zeiber Building, Main Street, sep26:tf Westminster, Md. J) GOODS, At Betail and Wholesale. HAMILTON EASTEB & SONS, 199, 201, 203 W. Baltimore St., BALTIMORE, MD. IMPORT DIRECT FROM EUROPE Black and Colored Dress Goods, Black and Colored Dress Silks, Brocade and Fancy Silks and Velvets Linens, Hosiery and Underwear, Embroideries, Laces & White Goods, Ladies’ and Misses’ Wraps. ARE LARGE BUYERS, DIRECT FROM THE MANUFACTURERS, OF DOMESTIC DRY GOODS, Flannels, Blankets, Cassimeres, Domestic Cottons, CaUcoes, Ginghams, LOW-PEICED DBESS GOODS. Samples furnished free of postage. TO MERCHANTS. Will furnish merchants samples for their customers to select from at lowest wholesale piece prices. Any length cut at same price. Merchants can buy of us styles entirely different from those carried by regular whole sale houses. sep26,3mos QFhe Democratic 3, Duo rate. > — X — ~ f D HANDSOME ! , Y AND REFLECT! . C. AMPION CLOTHING • THE I CLOTHING HOUSE i F- WESTMINSTER, MD. les of Men’s and Boys’ Clothing and Goods, Hats, Caps, Furs, Trunks, Bubbers, Bubber Boots, Eubber i e Blankets, Comforts, Blankets, Lined, Elegantly Made. OCK SURPASSES IN ELEGANCE AND BEST GOODS, AT LOWEST LIVING MISTAKE. FOR ALL LINES OP DRY AND CARPETS. will see this stock. We do not exaggerate | NSE, and ALWAYS THE LARGEST, al- } and our prices are well known to everybody low prices for this market. You can tell that mpetition. This department is run with light economise in every branch, keeping our ex ss than any single-department store can be | ers, and to be sure they are always happy and business in d Underwear Department. Underwear, Children's Dreses, Hoods, Caps, nt Knit Underwear. We ask an inspection N’S COATS AND WRAPS. artment, selling every day of this stock freely, oom over 1000 Coats and Wraps TO $45.00. es, which are about one-half last year's prices. LBAUGH. stock of new goods in our ing Department To-Day, ing Sugars at a price none dare compete. are and Silver-Plated Ware. goods. We have the inside track on this ment. We can afford to sell goods cheap. BUYERS, we are one-price cash sellers, and hy should we not do a big business? “Well, i no squealing. LBAUGH, j ABE THE ! -ONLY ESTABLISHMENT- In Carroll county that is exclusively devoted to the Hat. Cap, Boot, Shoe and Trunk Business. We have all the latest styles in Derbys, Round and Half Round Crowns; Soft, Fur and Felt Hats. OVER SHOES of all sizes and quality. GUM BOOTS for men, women and children. FINE SLIPPERS. Men s, Ladies’, Misses’ and Children’s Boots and Shoes. Sole Agents for Slessinget’s Hand Made Tender Feet Shoes for ladies. Bixler’s Home-Made Button, Lace and j Congress Shoes. If you want first-class goods, at moderate prices, call and examine our stock. A fine line of Trunks, Valises & Umbrellas. All goods are as represented or tnoney re funded. No fancy prices asked, we only charge a fair profit over first cost. U. L. REAVER & CO., First National Bank Building, R. R. Depot, WESTMINSTER, MD. oct 3 8 TMINSTEB FLOURING MILLS. W. S. MYER & BRO. Proprietors. Manufacture and have on hand and for sale Flour, Peed; also, Seeds, Salt, Kainit, S. C. Rock, Plaster, r and all kinds of Standard Brands of Fertilizers at manufacturers’ prices. ’ Highest Cash Prices Paid for Grain. Grain of all kind taken on storage. mr2l,tf FOB SALE. —The subscriber offers for sale a TRACT OF LAND, formerly a part of “Clover Hill,” lying near Patapsco Falls. It is of a very excellent quality, in a high state of cultivation. Will sell 10, 20, 50 or more acres to suit, on very reasonable • terms. A clear title given. For further in t formation apply to E. N. BUCKINGHAM, my 9 Sear Finksburg, Carroll co., Md. r AXES, the best in the market, for sale by A. N. STEPHAN. WESTMINSTER, MD, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 7,1885. J&clect f odrg. THE LOVE LETTEB. Katie came into my study wbh the pan and brush in band; The dusting soon was over, yet the girl did blushing stand. She was toying with a letter which a foreign post mark bore. It had come to Pennsylvania from Erin’s lovely shore. “What Is it. KateT” X asked her. “Is there aught that I can do T” And she stood there blushing, “Shall 1 read that note for yon V •• 'Tls a letter from ould Ireland.” and she blushed a deeper red, “An’ If ye’d plaze," she faltered, then out the room she fled. What's wrong with Katie. I wondered, her action are so queer; But patiently I waited, knowing well that soon I'd hear. “Come in!” I quickly answered, as I heard a timid knock, And wondered why her fingers seemed to tremble on the lock. Her cheeks were red as roses, and again as white as snow— The pretty blushes seemed to chase each other to and fro. She bad the letter in her hand, and a bunch of cot ton soft; i With trembling voice at last she spoke (but after failure oft)— “ ’Tis a letter from ould Erin; it's me can't rade a word, An' if ye plaze,” she stammered, “ 'twas sint by Pat McCord.;.’ “Shall I read it. Kate?" “Why, sure I was about to ask the same, For 'tis me can nicer rade it, the more it is a slianKi— But, your riv'reuce won’t be angry; 'tis a love letter shure. An' Patrick writes so tenderly, he wouldn'tlike that your Ears should hear at all, at all. For the love he bears to roe Is as dape as Lake Killfrney aud as boundless as the sea! So, if your riv'reuce plazes (it 's me don’t ioike to spake What's on me moind; there's no offence intended), would you take I This cotton, when you rade it and stuff it in your ear? i An’ Patrick’s love he'll tell to me, but you will never hear." j I assented to her wish, stuffed the cottou in my ears, ! Read the tender missive to her, which called forth both smiles and tears, j 'Twas an honest, manly letter: spoke of love both deep and true, i And of how his Katie darling—but that's not for me : nor you. j Said Kate: “I'm thankful to yez. An’your riv’reuce j is so wise— | Could you now wroitc to Patrick, and let me blind fold your eyes? I So Patrick got his letter, which I managed slow to write. And Katie vowed, “Of nicer a word his riv'rence got sight.” JfeUcf js(ory. TIE MISER’S LESSON. Jonas Pray was born stingy; he hid his sweetmeats from his little brothers when he was a child, and smoked his cigars alone when he was a young man. By the time he was forty Jonas Pray was a very rich man, though he lived as plainly as ever, and somehow about that age the first tender feelings he had ever known crept into his heart. He fell in love with a buxom, good-tempered young woman nam ed Sara Woolwich, and offered himself to ; her. He was not an ill-looking man, and 1 when he chose could make himself agree- i able. Sara liked him and accepted him. Jonas meant to be liberal to her at first, i but after a brief honeymoon his old habits resumed their way, and. at last, the second I winter of their married life coming on, Sara j found that all her remarks about her shabby ; ! summer hat had no effect whatever, and j that she might wait a long while without I 1 having such a thing as a comfortable cloak I suggested to her. She had been a poor girl, and had no trousseau to speak of, and ! she found it necessary to put her pride in her pocket and ask for what she needed. It is hard enough for a wife to do that, but 1 to be refused was something she had not i calculated on. She knew her husband had a bank ac count; that there was no reason she should not dress well. But when she had said, playfully, “Jonas, shall I buy myself some winter things to-day ? I need a shawl dreadfully,” he had answered, “I thought you were too sensible a woman to run after the fashions, Sara. I’m sure you have very decent things that you might wear a long while yet.” “That shows how much men know,” Sara answered, determined to be pleasant and not to show that she was hurt. “You would not like your wife to look shabby ?” “Well, no,” said Jonas; “no, but really, ’ Sara, money is so scarce just now. Don’t you think you might make what you have do a little longer?” “How much longer ?” she asked, quietly. “Oh, I don’t know, said Jonas; “I had an aunt who left me something when she 1 died who wore the same shawl and bonnet ■ sixteen years, and boasted of it, too. ” His wife looked at him and said nothing. “Economy is a great thing, Sara,” said Jonas, uneasily. “It would be dreadful to die in the workhouse, you know; and you don’t care for other people’s admiration, do you, Sara, when you know your Jonas likes you as well in your well-saved clothes ? We won’t call them ‘shabby,’ Sara, only well-saved.” “Call them what you please, Jonas,” said Sara. “They merit both epithets.” Her temper was rising fast, but she had sense enough to crush it down. As she looked at him a little while, grief came instead of anger. There was much that was good about Jonas. It was terrible to see this canker creeping over it all—to see the pinched lines about his mouth, the anxious look in his eyes. Poor Sara remembered stories she had read of misers—how they starved them selves while they counted their gold. Would Jonas grow as bad as these ? How could she tell ? She arose softly and went out of the room, and brought back her bonnet and shawl, and put them on the table before him. “Jonas, dear,” she said, “I don’t want you to think me unreasonable. Look at these; see how shabby they are. They were nice when we were married, but they were cheap, very cheap—cheap things fade so. I have made everything I had to do for two years. I did not like to ask. I have not spent one penny of your money for clothes. You know you gave me two pairs of gloves in our honeymoon; I have them still.” “What a good, careful girl,” said Jonas, caressing her dark hair as she came and sat beside him. “Yes, I have been careful. It is my nature to be careful,” said Sara. “Few men’s wives would have done so much. Now, look at these things, my dear.” He looked at them long and lingeringly. He knew his wife was reasonable, and that the things were, and long had been, unfit for her to wear. But his money tugged at his heart-strings. “Suppose you wear them one winter more, Sara,” he said. “Just one.” “The shawl is very thin,” she said. “I shall catch cold again, as I did last winter.” “Poor girl,” he said, softly, and crossed towards the desk where his check book lay. But the grip of the fiend that rules a miser’s soul nipped him sorely as he did so. The momentary impulse vanished. Besides, a thought occurred to him. “They wear sacques a good deal, Sara, don’t they ?” be said. “Oh. they arc very fashionable,” replied his wife. “Then couldn’t you make one of that old billiard cloth that is in the trunk room ?” he said. “My poor mother bought it at au auction. She meant to use it as a coverlet; but it’s a very pretty green, don’t yon think, Sara, and such nice material.” There is a limit to woman’s patience. This suggestion measured Sara’s. She started to her feet, and gathering up her bonnet and shawl, walked out of the room. After awhile his wife looked into the room with her old bonnet on, and her old shawl about her shoulders, and said : “Jonas, I’m going to spend the day with my sister-in-law.” “I hope you will enjoy yourself, my dear,” said Jonas. lie saw her eyes were heavy with weep ing, and looked away, ashamed of himself. Then he betook himself to his office, where he ground out his money, and, during the day, compromised with himself. He would do no extravagant thing, but when he went home he would give his wife what was ne cessary. And, after all, as he said to him self, it would have been better to have done it. He had grieved her, and she was the only thing he loved on earth. He went home earlier than usual that evening to make what amends his soul would consent to, and as he walked briskly along, being light upon his feet yet—for whoever heard of a raiser growing fat ?—he thought that he never again would bring tears to those good, kind eyes. Never, never again. And then—what was the crowd ? What had happened? People were coming his way, looking backward as they came. Men, boys, women, little children, all the riff-raff that accident, or a quarrel, or an arrest will collect in the streets; and now he was in the midst of the throng and close to four policemen, who, with set faces, marched in time, bearing between them a stretcher, on which lay a human form cov ered with a shawl. Jonas looked! Oh, ! heaven! He knew the pattern of that i shawl ! Only a few hours before ; its dingy palm leaves of yellow brown, its faded fringe, its shabby brown centre, 1 had been spread out before him. It was his wife’s shawl. “Stop, stop, stop !” he cried. “Let me see her!” “Do you know her ?’’ asked the police man. “Let me see her face,” said Jonas, grow | ing so faint that a kindly man hard by supported him by the arm. “You'd not know her face; a stone fell on her; it's crushed,” said the policeman. “But shawls are alike. Keep up your courage. I don't think this any relation of yours; she’s too shabby. Look at her shoes. See here, this is her bonnet. You don’t know that ?” He held up a bonnet. It was crushed. But Jonas knew it. The streaked purple ribbon, and a flower among the other flowers that had losl half its petals. He had fin gered it as it lay on the table beside him. “Yes, I know it,” he cried. “It’s Sara. • It’s my wife.” Then he pulled away the shawl from the | face, and fainted outright. But as his i senses left him, he heard some one say— “ His wife.” And another answered— “ Like enough. They call him a miser, j I know him. His name is Pray.” They carried the poor woman home to Jonas Pray s old house, helping him to j follow as he came to himself. She was laid upon her bed, and there, was a coroner’s inquest, and women pre pared her body for burial, talking among themselves of the shame it was she, a rich man’s wife, should be so clad. Before the time came he had a cab called, and went out in it. He was driven to a large establishment, where he asked to see the manager, and was shown to his room. The manager found him there, a pale, miserable object, trembling and faint, as one in a deep illness. “I want to buy a shawl,” he said. “A shopman will attend to you, sir,” said the manager. “No,” said Jonas, “I am too ill, too broken to talk to the shopman. I can trust you. I want the costliest shawl you have.” “A madman,” thought the manager. “Our costliest is five hundred pounds,” said he, repressing a smile. “Have it wrapped up for me,” said Jonas. “Certainly mad," said the gentleman to himself. But Jonas had drawn a check out from his breast pocket, and with trembling hand was filling up the blanks. The manager examined them carefully. “Mr. Jonas Pray,” he said, more respect fully. Then it flashed upon him that he had read that morning of a fatal accident to this man’s wife. It was a strange pro ceeding altogether. Secretly he called others to look at his customer. One knew him—financially it was all right. “And the rest is none of our business,” said the manager, as he saw the bundle of splendor carried down stairs after Jonas Pray. “They spoke of him as a miser in the paper. That's a pretty purchase for a miser.” Meanwhile, Jonas drove home. No sweet face smiled a greeting. Within, all was silent. Carrying the shawl under his arm, he went up stairs to the darkened room, where, under straight folds of white drapery, seemed to lay the sorrow of the house. A watcher sat there. He sent her away. Then, alone in the room, he knelt down upon the floor. “Sara,” he said, “Sara, can you hear me? I loved you. Sara; but I was such a miser. I’ve bought you a shawl at last. Oh, Sara, Sara; I’ve paid as much as I could for it, my dear. You shall be wrap ped in it in your coffin. I’ll put it about you myself. Sara, Sara!” He spread out the costly folds. He lifted it in his hands. A moment more he would have folded it about the dead form, but at that instant a voice cried ; “Oh, Jonas, Jonas, dear. Oh, my poor Jonas. My poor, poor Jonas!” And turning, he saw his wife, either in the spirit or the flesh, standing behind him. His knees trembled under him. He cried out to heaven to help him. But the figure came closer. It was no ghost, but a living woman. She took him in her arms. “Oh, how ill you look !” she said. “Did you really love me so ? And it is all my fault. I went to my sister-in-law’s, and there in a pet—oh, I was so angry, Jonas —I gave away my dress, my shawl and my bonnet to a beggar woman —and vowed to sit in one of sister’s dressing-gowns until you gave me decent clothes to come home in. And the poor woman was killed two hours afterwards, and I never knew that she had been taken for me until this morn ing. Oh, such a creature,, my dear, the papers described her. And for a little while I was glad you had had a fright, but I am sorry now I was.” ’ For an answer he picked up the costly 1 shawl and wrapped it about her, and took . her, folded in it like a mummy, to his heart s again. i “The miser is dead,” he said, “but Jonas i Pray will show his wife how he can cherish her.” , He did; and if ever afterwards Sara de tected sj'mptoms of a relapse, all she had 1 to do was to wrap herself in her wonderful shawl. I The sight of it inevitably recalled the ’ moment when he learnt how little, after all, i is the value of money, and realized in agony ; of sou! that his greed had brought down , upon him the contempt of his fellow-men, and for a time wrecked his happiness, and . almost his reason. > He may indeed love his money yet, but r he knows that he loves Sara more. ; The Habit of Waste. Said a most successful merchant a day or , ' two since to a lad who was opening a par cel, “Young man, untie those strings— . | don’t cut them.” It was the first remark he had made to | a new employee. It was the first lesson | for the lad to learn, and it involved the ’ principle of success or failure in his busi ’ ness career. Pointing to a well-dressed [ j man of thirty years behind a counter, the merchant said: ‘ There is a man who al | ways takes out his scissors and cuts the j strings of a package in three or four places , 1 He is a good salesman, but never will be ’ anything more. I presume he lives from hand to mouth, and very likely is always more or less in debt. The trouble with ! him is that he was never taught to save, . I told the boy just now to untie the string [ instead of cutting it, not so much for the value of the string as to teach him that everything must be saved and nothing wasted. If the idea can be firmly impress ed upon the mind of a beginner in life , that nothing was made to be wasted, you have laid the foundation of success.” The moral of this little incident is self evident. A young man, well brought up, with a fair education, seeks employment , in a business house. The habit of waste in little things is noticeable, and becomes a draw back on his value and usefulness to his employer. The disregard of saving strings and paper develops into a careless ness that runs through all his habits. He , I does not get on in the world because he is | wasteful. Small sums of money slip I through his fingers almost unconsciously, . because they are small. He wastes time by the minute, without a thought of the , old adge: “Take care of the minutes and the hours will take care of themselves.” Sitting in the counting-room of one of j the oldest and most successful merchants | the other day, we noticed that he cut off the blank sheet of the letter he was engag (ed in filing. The name of tho man is a | synonym of charity and benevolence, and I his liberality in all good works is almost unbounded. His attention being called to what seemed an unusual proceeding, he I said; “Yea, it may strike you as singular to save those half sheets of paper, but I com menced life a poor boy in a country store, and this was one of the first lessons in sav ing little things that was taught me by my employer. He has been nearly half a century under the sod but I never do this i without thinking of the good old man. I believe it was the secret of ray success in : life.” | This saving of little things does not im ply stinginess or meanness. It is the hab -lit of saving instead of simply wasting. It is embodied in the motto, “Waste not, want : not.” A Novel Scene in a Church. There were few preachers in the early days of Indiana better known than Samuel Hamilton. He was the first presiding elder |of the Indianapolis district. He was the contemporary of Strange, Bigelow, Wiley and other great names among the pioneers of the church. At one time his circuit embraced a good part of Southern Indiana ■ and Central Kentucky. At one of these appointments in Kentucky he had among his regular hearers an aristocratic memßer of the chivalry of the State, who carried the title of “Colonel.” One Sunday the Colonel took his seat in the sanctuary, hav ing by his side one of his neighbors, who was given to indulging pretty freely in Kentucky’s favorite beverage. On this i particular Sunday he had taken just enough , I to make himself troublesome. The preacher was holding forth on the sins of the day. and finally mentioned horse racing as one of them. The Colonel was a lover of the turf, and as the divine struck at the sin, the neighbor nudged the Colonel and remarked, in a voice audible all over the church; “Colonel, he nuans you.” Profane swearing was next touched upon, and again the colonel was nudged, with the remark: “Colonel, he means you.” So • it went on, as sin after sin was mentioned, until the audience was almost convulsed with laughter. Finally a small dog entered s at the open door and trotted down the aisle , until it reached the front of the pulpit, ! when it set up a furious barking at the 1 minister. The Colonel’s tipsy neighbor, • with the utmost gravity, arose and walked steadily down the aisle to where the dog was barking. Seizing the animal by the ' neck, he held him up before the cougrega i tion a moment, and then, shaking him fur i iously, he broke out with: “Tree a preach ier, will you, you ill-bred pup.” This was too much for Mr. Hamilton. He could i restrain his laughter no longer, and he took his seat, not being able to dismiss his con i gregation. ! The Source of Gum Arabic. —There 1 is perhaps no gum so universally used as ; “gum arabic,” as it is called in commerce; 1 which name is incorrect, however, because only an exceedingly small portion comes from Arabia. All the genera of the acacia 1 exude this very useful gum, which tree is : diffused over all the hotter regions of the globe. Its employment dates back to the earliest dawn of history, and the Egyptians exported it nearly 4,000 years ago, as can be learned from their hieroglyphic writings. I Arabian M. D's employed it as a medicinal agent, and it was also known in Greece. The Railway Age says:—The Pike’s Peak Railroad, which is expected to be in operation this year, will be the most notice able piece of track in the world. It will j mount 200 feet higher than the Lima and Aroya Railway, in Peru. It is now in operation to a point over 12,000 feet above the sea level. The entire thirty miles of ■ its length will be a succession of complicat ed curves and grades, with no piece of | straight track longer than 300 feet. There are but two objects that I have , ever desired for these forty years to be [ hold —the one is, my own vileness; and the . other is, Thy glory, O God, in the face of , Jesus Christ. — Simeon. What we lack in natural abilities may s usually be made up by industry. A dwarf ; may keep peace with a giant if he will only t move his legs fast enough.- -G. D. Pren tice. [ ©ur ©lie* t - . Salutations. From the Brooklyn Eagle. Salutations in some countries have very ] dissimilar characteristics, and it may not he j uninteresting to explain a few of them. Most of our own gestures of salutation and 3 civility owe their origin to the warfare of the days of chivalry, indicating deference, as j from one conquered to the conqueror. , The head movement was simply the hand unarmed, the helmet being removed, the j party was at his mercy. The hand un gloved was in like manner the hand un l gauntlcted. Shaking hands was a token of truce, in which the parties took hold of each other’s weapon hand to make sure against treachery. We consider it an in civility to shake hands with gloves on, and r it is contrary to the etiquette of the Europ ean courts to wear gloves in the presence - of the Queens. A gentleman’s bow is but the offer of the neck to the stroke of his > adversary, and the lady’s courtsey is but i the form of going on her knees for mercy. 5 Kissing the lips, byway of affectionate - salutation, was not only permitted, but I customary, among near relatives of both ; sexes in patriarchial and also later times. ' -I In former days the English said: “God j ;; save you, sir,” and “Good-bye” is for “God < be with you.” Our farewell is a direct ; ! translation of the German lebewohl, good i living being, it is presumed, appreciated by | i the Anglo-Saxon. It is highly probable i that saying and writing “Ycur servant,” 1 , and taking off the hat, were originally de- ■ ; monstrations of obedience to those who ; claimed it. The different forms of civility t connected with bodily gestures are even ; more remarkable than the words mutual ■ contact, such as the pressure of hands, em ; braces and kisses being always regarded as , the expression of kindly intercourse, al ' though the words may to a certain extent • be considered as an index of national char , acter. The theory of firing a salute is that I it leaves the guns harmless and at the ; > mercy of the other party, and this is so t true that firing salutes with blank cart i ridges is a modern innovation, occasioned. : however, by the fact of a complimentary ■ cannon-ball proving fatal once to the person ; age whom it was meant to honor. When j ; an officer salutes he points his sword to the • ground, and the salute of troops is still de , signaled presenting arms—that Is, present ing them to be taken. ; The frequent allusions in the Bible to I the customary salutations of the Jews in vest the subject with a higher degree of in ' tcrest than it might otherwise claim, as it i affords further confirmatory testimony of F the Good Book from the existing usages of ■ the East, where precisely the same forms i are to this day preserved. When the Arabs meet each other the first thing is the salute, which is repeated i several times, and is done in the following ; manner: Each strikes the palm of his right hand on that of his companion or i throws it on his left shoulder, repeating al ways the same phrase, “Salamat, caif Hal , com tarbin” (Peace! How are you? Well ?) This way of saluting is most beautiful and striking, and when performed i gives a new figure and majesty to the naked Arabs who are the actors of it. These gesticulations are always accompa i nied with a very grave tone of voice. After the salutation they inquire of each other the news about the places whence they came. Their news relates generally ; to the buying and selling of dromedaries, J whether there are loads to carry, or some thing of this kind. They then ask each other for tobacco or salt, and their conclu sion : “Salute me, Hamed, at Carosco, and your Ali at Barbar. Do you understand ? In peace, in peace!” After this each re sumes his way. Women and children kiss ' the beards of their husbands and fathers. Their greetings are marked by a strong re ligious character, such as “God grant thee i His favors.” “If God will, thy family ■ only enjoy good health. Peace be with ■ you.” s Nothing affords more interest and amusement than an examination of the various modes of salutation practiced by the nations of the earth. In some degree these forms may be regarded as an index of na tional character or the circumstances of national life. The Hebrew salutation was “Peace!” t-he ancient Greek, “Rejoice !” i The modern use the form, “What doest . thou ?” In Germany, “How do you find ! yourself?” and in some parts of the country : they invariably kiss the hands of all the : ladies of their acquaintance whom they meet. In Spain, “How goes it?” and Spanish grandees wear their hats in the I presence of their sovereign, to show they 1 are not so much subject to him as to the rest of the nation. When the royal car riage passes it is the rule to throw open the i cloak to show that the person is unarmed, i In the West Indies the negroes say: , “Have you had a good sleep? In the ! sickly districts of Egypt, where fever was I common and dangerous, they salute by saying: “How goes the perspiration ? Do , you sweat copiously ?” “Is it well with i thee ?” and the inhabitants kiss the back of a superior’s hand, and, as an extra eivil -1 ity, the palm also. ; Some salutations, by reason of their gro s tesque exaggeration, are calculated to im ■ press one with the liveliest feelings of • wonder and amusement. The negroes, whose actions are for the most part of a i burlesque description, naturally affect the 1 farcical in their interchanges of ceremonies. : Their salutation consists of the most ludi • crons contortions, coupled with the absurd usage of pulling the fingers till the joints crack, and when two ebony monarchs visit . they embrace in snapping the third finger j three times. Some nations seem to con • sider that they evince the most delicate i attention and respect in their greetings by j a removal of some part of their wearing l apparel, or by temporarily appropriating , some portion of the dress of the ones . srreeted. The Ethiopian will take the robe ; of another and fold it about his own waist, 5 leaving his friend but scantily clad; while , the Japanese removes his slipper when he meets a superior, exclaiming, “Hurt me j not!” and the people of Arrican their san dals in the street and their stockings in the house. The Philippine Islanders take pos session of the hand or foot of the person 5 they salute and gently rest it against their 1 own faces; while this ceremony among the ' Laplanders takes the form of applying their ■ noses with some force against the saluted one’s and treating him to a species of bat- J tering-ram greeting. According to Dam pier, the people of New Guinea have a more polite and picturesque way of cx- P changing this kind of civility, which they do by placing on their heads the leaves of trees, as being, it may be assumed, symbol ical of peace and good-fellowship. Other 2 salutations arc of so complex a nature that ' this form of politeness is most decidedly 2 irksome, and can only be acquired after f the most assiduous practice. Speaking of the customs of the inhabitants of an island in the Straits of the Sound, a French trav r eller tells us that “they raised his left foot, f which they passed over the right leg, and j from thence over his face.” He, however, - omits to enlighten us whether he had re ceived previous instruction and training before taking part in this singular proceed ing; but the effect on a middle-aged gentle man of aldermanic proportions in perform ing such an acrobatic salutation off-hand would not, one would imagine, be unattended with awkward results. Although not so difficult of accomplishment, the inhabitants of the Philippines are lovers of a somewhat complex attitude in their salutations, which consist in bending the body as close as , possible to the earth, placing the palms of the hands on the cheeks, and then slowly raising one foot in the air, with the knees bent. The Chinese demonstrate their national vanity and affection in their personal civil ities, and the name of their artificial cere monies is legion. They are not content with their “reverences” and their singular postures, but add quantity to kind, the number of their salutations being calcula ted to a nicety, and varying in accordance with the rank and importance of the person they would honor. If two persons are brought together after a lengthy separation, it is their custom to sink down on their knees and bend the face to the earth, this ceremony being repeated two or three times. Should you meet a Chinese and venture a “Howd’you do?” he will in all probability reply verbosely in such a strain as “Very well, thanks to your abundant felicity,” or, if he should take the initiative, you will be overwhelmed with some such greeting as “Prosperity is painted on your face,” or “ Your air announces your happiness.” But perhaps the most curious of all these is the custom of salutation after sneezing, relevant ! to which an amusing account is given of i the effect which attends the sneezing of i the King of Monomotapa. It is said that j “those who are near his person salute him in so loud a tone that persons in the ante- I chamber hear it and join in the acclama tion; in the adjoining apartments they do the same, till the noise reaches the street and becomes propagated throughout the i city, so that at each sneeze of his Majesty results a horrid cry from the salutations of many thousands of his vassals.” But, per haps, the climax of absurdity is reached ■ when the King of Sennaar indulges in this luxury, for the whole of the courtiers turn J their backs on him and loudly smack their | right thigh. The Turks cross their hands, place them | on their heart, and bow, exclaiming, “Be under the care of God!” “Forget me not in thy prayers!” “Thy visits are as rare . as fine days!”—an ancient greeting, as it | is by no means applicable to the present country. The Romans in ancient times exclaimed, “What doest thou?” “Beheal thy !” or “Be strong!” when it was custo mary to take up children by the ears and kiss them. Italians, on meeting, kiss the hands of ladies to whom they are related, with the strange inquiry, “How does she stand ?” Manillas bend their bodies, place their hands upon their cheeks, raise one leg, and bend the knee. Persians salute by inclining neck over neck, and then cheek : to cheek, with the extravagant greeting: j “Is thy exalted high condition good ?” i “May thy shadow never be less!” and | “Peace be upon thee!” In Poland the : inhabitants bow to the ground, with the significant inquiry, “Art thou gay ?” and i “How do you live on ?” “Be well!” and a common exclamation, which means liter ally “God be with you !” has degenerated lof late years into the opposite—“ Devil take you!” The Hollanders, with their proverbial love of good living, salute their friends by asking, “How do you fare?” I “Have you had a good dinner ?” Laplan- | ders, when they meet on the ice, press their noses firmly together. Bengalese call themselves the “most humble slaves” of those they desire to salute. Bohemians | kiss the garments of the person they wish to honor. Siamese prostrate themselves before superiors, when a servant examines whether they have been eating anything i offensive. If so, they are kicked out; if j | not, they are picked up. Ceylonese, on j meeting superiors, prostrate themselves, re | peating the name and dignity of the indi- I i vidual. The Moors of Morocco ride at | full speed toward a stranger, suddenly stop, and then fire a pistol over his head. Ma j horomedans say: “Peace be with you !” | to which the reply is : “On you be peace!” i To which is added : “And the mercy and blessings of God!” The Swedes, on meet ing one another, simply inquire: “How can you ?” The Burmese apply their noses and cheeks closely to a person’s face and then exclaim: “Give me a smell!” attrib utable to their great use of perfumes; and i the French say: “Comment vous portez | vouz ?” which literally signifies ; “How do j you carry yourself?” There are many causes which influence these diversified salutations among the var ious nations of the earth, some resulting, apparently, from the national temper or j disposition of a people, while others are doubtless the outcome of superstition. Many are remarkable for their simplicity, while others display considerable complex ity and are highly grotesque in form. But, generally speaking, the further a nation degrades from the simplicity of its infancy the more ornate becomes its ceremonies of politeness. There must exist the outward form and actions for these different cus toms, and it is but natural for each nation to imagine that it employs the most rea sonable. But whether we find them in a simple or complex form, it may fairly be inferred that they are not without their value, in that they place in the hands of every man a prescribed mode of approach ing his fellowman without giving or re ceiving offence. So such a canon on social observance, alike sanctioned by the individ ual and the community in which he lives, cannot fail in its beneficial results, since it is destructive of confusion and productive of that something in our daily intercourse which, for want of a better name, may be described by the phrase, “good form.” “One of the largest if not the largest barn ever erected in the State is now in process of construction at Loveland, Ohio. Dr. Napoleon B. Wolfe, who owns a large stock farm in the immediate vicinity of Loveland, proposes to house his stock in magnificent winter quarters. According to the plans the building will be 200 by 200 feet, or 40,000 superficial feet on the ground floor. The lower story will be thirteen feet in height, and built of all stone masonry. The second story, twelve feet high, is to be built of timber with an overlaying of twelve feet for shelter purposes. The apex of the roof will be about one hundred feet from the ground. The whole will be lighted at night with an arc light of 123 candle power. The building is intended to ac comodate one hundred head of choice cat tle, twenty-five horses and one thousand sheep. The cost of the building will be in the neighborhood of 835,000. A German critic thus distinguishes be tween ridicule, wit, irony and humor; “Ridicule is the wit of a stupid or vulgar person; wit the ridicule of a superior intel lect or a man of the world; irony the wft of a thinker, and humor the irony of a poet. Ridicule is like a blow with the fist, wit like the prick of a needle, irony like the sting of a thorn, and humor the plaster which heals all these wounds.” Peace in a sinful course is one of the greatest of curses.— Bunyan. VOL. XX.-NO. 52. Be Thorough. It was Carlyle who said, “Genius is an immense capacity for taking trouble,” and George Eliot gives the same thought in other words: “Genious is, at first, little more than a great capacity for receiving discipline.” The most successful have al ways been the most painstaking. A prom inent judge, living near Cincinnati, wishing ’ to have a rough fence built, sent for a car penter, and said to him: “I want this fence mended to keep out the cattle. There are some unplaned boards—use them. It is out of sight from the house, so you need not take time to make a neat job. I will only pay a dol lar and a half.” However, afterwards, the judge, coming to look at the work, found the boards were planed and the fence finished with ex ceeding neatness. Supposing the young man had done it to make a costly job of it, he said angrily; “I told you this fence was to be covered with vines. Ido not care how it looks.” “I do,” said the carpenter. “How much do you charge?” then asked the judge. “A dollar and a-half,” said the man, shouldering his tools. “Why did you spend all that labor on a job if not for the money?” “For the job, sir.” “Nobody w ould have seen the poor work on it.” “But I should have known it was there. No; I’ll fake only the dollar and a-half.” And be took it and went away. Ten years afterwards the judge had a contract to give for the building of certain magnificient public buildings. There were many applicants among master-builders, but one face attracted attention. It was that of the man who had built the fence. “I knew,” said the judge, afterwards telling the story, “we should have only good, genuine work from him. I gave him the contract and it made a rich man of him.” The Hon. Josiah Quincy was at one time conversing with Daniel Webster upon the importance of doing even the smalle.-.t ! thing thoroughly and well, when the great ' man related an incident concerning a petty | insurance case which was brought to him | while a young lawyer in Portsmouth. The fee promised was only 820. Yet, to do his clients full justice, Webster found he must journey to Boston to cousult the law library. This involved an expense of above the amount of his fee, but after hesitating a little, he decided to go to Boston and consult the authorities let the cost be what it might. He gained the case. Years after this Webster was passing through the city of New York. An im portant insurance case was to be tried that day, and one of the counsel had been sud denly prostrated by illness. Money was no object, and Webster was asked to name his terms and conduct the case. “It is preposterous,” said he, “to expect me to prepare a legal argument at a few hours’ notice.” But when they insisted that he should look at the papers, he consented. It was his old twenty dollar case over again, and, having a remarkable memory, he had all the authorities in his mind, and won the suit. The court knew he had no time for preparation, and was astonished at the skill with which he handled the case. “So you see,’ said Webster, as he con cluded, “I was hand tomoly paid, both in fame and money, for that journey; and the moral is that good work is rewarded in the end though, to be sure, one’s self-approval should be enough.” Thoroughness implies attention to details, neatness and method. A young man who was shrewd and exacting, but whose busi ness habits were careless and unmethodical, succeeded, by hard work and economy, in establishing a prosperous business, but I failed and went into bankruptcy at the i ™r\j age of thirty-five because of his care i lessness in omitting to place a note for a large amount in his bills payable. Why Life is so Short. Dr. Hitchcock, says the Boston Herald, who is believed to be the professor of athe letics at Amherst College, answers the question, why we live no longer, by show ing that we are consuming our energies as a people at such a rate that the physical and mental work which used to be distrib uted through 70 years is now substantially accomplished at 40. Men’s heads are pre maturely bankrupt; their stomachs are worn out; their hearts, kidneys and muscles are overworked; and then as if to put a climax upon the present plan, he says ; “If the use of tobacco increases during the present as it has during the past twenty-five years, we shall not only know of sudden deaths from heart and brain injuries consequent upon it, but we shall sec in the Anglo-Saxon race, men emasculated and sorely deficient in muscular strength. A lack of control over our bodily and mental functions is one reason why we live 40 instead of 70 years.” This is plain language, but it comes to the point. Dr. Hitchcock says of our youth who are allowed to follow their impulses, and are but partially check ed in their appetites before manhood or even youth comes on, that “the tender and growing organs are so debased and abused that a dysentery, diphtheria or fever is forced in and life is forced out before the natural limit of life.” Again, he alludes to the use of tobacco by youth to the ex tent “that all at once an arteriale in the brain substance breaks open and life is given up in the teens rather than in the scores." The records of our public schools can be searched to show that the cramming and overpressure are making terrible mis chief among young girls at the age when they are least able to bear the strain. The private remarks of a long-settled clergyman in this city, that he had buried too many girls from one of our schools ever to send his daughter there, makes one open his eyes. In every direction we are making life short—by our vices, by our careless use of physical force, by our pushing hab its, by wrong methods in our public schools, by the attempt to get a double portion of satisfaction out of life as it is dealt out to us. Boys and girls are yielded up to death simply because in the homes of the people there is no one to teach and compel the young to use the force of life moderately. Cast iron, if heated for several days to a temperature of from 900° to I,ooo° Cent., neither melts nor softens, but is converted into malleable iron, and its surface is cov ered with a grayish efforescenee. Its frac ture sometimes presents a uniform black, like that of a lead pencil, and is sometimes riddled with large black points which are regularly distributed in the metallic paste. “Talk is cheap” loses its significance when applied to conversation through tele phones rented at fifty dollars a year.— Con cord Monitor. Never wait for a thing to turn up. Go and turn it up yourself. It takes less time, and is surer to be done. Fifty years is a long wait for the golden wedding, but it is an eighteen carat argu ment in favor of early marriages.