?-? ' ? ??
THE TRIBUNE.
VOL. II.?NO. 15. BEAUFORT. S. C.. MARCH 1. 1876. $1.50 PER ANNUM.
To the Daughter of au Old Sweetheart.
I love thee, Juliet, for tby mother'a sako,
Aud were I young ahould love thoe for thine
own ; Afresh
in thoe her early charms awake,
And all her witcheries are round thee
thrown,
Thine aro her girlhood's features, and I know
Her many virtues in thy bosom glow.
Thou art as lovely, though not yet as famed,
As that bright maid, the beautiful, the true,
Tho gentle being for whom thou wast named,'
The Juliet that our glorious Shakespeare
drew.
Thino is her magio loveliness?but, oh.
What fiery youth shall be thy Borneo 7
Who'er ho be, oh, may his lot and thine
Be happier than the lot of those of old ;
May ye, like them, bow low at passion's
shrine,
efay love within your bosoms ne'er grow
cold,
Aud may your paths be ne'er like theirs,
By strife of Montague aud Capulet.
Like his great prototype, thy Romeo,
Half-frouziod by his passion's raging flame,
Aud kiudling with a poet's fervid glow,
May fancy he might out thy beauteoua
framo
Inta bright stars to deck the midnight sky?
B it. gentle Juliet, may ho never try!
I paid the tnbu'.o of au humble lay
To thy 'air m ither in her girlhood bright.
And now tuie humbler offering I pay
To theo. oh, sweet yonng spirit of dolight
And may I not, tossed ou life's stormy waters,
Live to make rhymes, doar Juliet, to thy
daughters?
* )
THE MISER'S BEQUEST. !
.The hour hand of Philip Acre's old
fashioned silver watch was pointing
to the iigure 8?the snug red curtains 1
shut out the rain and darkness of the .
March uiglit, and the fire snauned mid
vi.ioked behiud the ! ed-hot bora of the
little grate in a most cozy and comfort- :
able sort of way, casting a rosy shine
into the thoughtful brown eyes that
wero tracing castles and coronets in the
brightly burning coals.
For Philip Acre was, for onoe, indulging
himself iu the dangerous fasoi"nations
of a day dream.
"If I were enly rich I" he pondered
to himself. "Ah, if! Then good-bye
to all these musty old law books ; goodbye
to mended boots and turned ooats,
and all the ways and means that tarn a
man's life into wretched bondage.
Wouldn't I revel in new books and delicious
paintings, and high stepping
horses? Wouldn't I buy a set of jewels
for Edith?not palo pearls or siokly
emeralds, but diamonds, to blaze like
links of fire upon her royal throat!
' Wouldn't I?what nonsense I'm talking,
thftugh !" he cried suddenly to himself.
" rhU Acre, hold your tongue. I did
suppose you were a fellow of more
sense. Here you are, neither rich uor
distinguished ; but a simple law student
; while Edith Wyllis is as far abovo
your moon-struck aspirations as the
queen of night herself ! She loves me,
tnough?she will wait?and the time
may one day come. If only Dr. Wyllis
were not so distrustful of a fellow!
Hallo! come in there, whoever you
are!"
V It was ouly the serving maid of the
f lodging house, carrying a letter in the
corner of her apron, between her finger i,
J" *1 1- 1
muu vuuluul ?
? ?? pjease, sir, the postman has just left ^
44 All right, Katy. Now, then," he
added, as tue door closed behind Katy's 3
back, 41 let's see what my unknown 4
correspondent has to say. A black seal, x
eh? Not having any relations to lose, I x
am not alarmed at the prognostic." 3
He broke the seal, and glanced leism-oly
over the short, business-like com- 4
munication contained within, with a
fa<te that varied from incredulous sur- 1
prise to sudden gladness.
44Am I dreaming?" he murmured,
rubbing his eyes, und shaking himself, c
as if to insure complete possession of e
his senses. 44 No, I'm wide awake and t
in my right mind; it is no delusion?no i
part of my waking -visions. But who i
would ever suppose that old Thomas t
Mortimer, whom I haven't seen sinoe I f
was a boy of sixteen, and picked him
out of the river half dead between cramp i
and fright, would die and leave me all <
his money ? Why, I'm not the shadow i
of a relation; but then I never heard
that the old man had any kith or kin, so ]
I can't imagine any harm in taking ad- <
vantage of his odd freak. Rich?am I <
really to be rich ? Is my Aladdin vision
to be an aotual foot? Oh, Edith, |
Edith 1" !
He clasped both hands over his eyes,
sick and giddy with the thought that .
that lovely far-off star of his adoration i
would be brought near to him at last by
tho magnet gold. All those years of pa- 1
tiont waiting were to.be bridged over i
v\n iua ?_ 1 -v 4? ' * * *
wj iuo niruugx oiu miser b i)6<jnefltj lie
might claim Edith now. 1
How full of heart sunshine were the
weeks that flitted over the head of tho i
accopted lover, brightened by Edith's i
smile, made beautiful by the soft radiance
of Edith'a love. There was only
one alloying nhadow?the almost imperceptible
touch of distrust and suspicion
with which stern old Dr. Wyllis regarded
his future son-in-law. Ah 1 he feared
to trust his only child to the keeping
of any man who had not been proved in
the fiery furnace of trial.
It was precisely a week before the day
appointed for the wedding, as the soft
bgb its, veiled by shades of ground glass,
were just lighted in Dr. Wyllis' draw- |
ing-room, where Edith sat among her
white roses and heliotrope, working on
a bit of cambric ruffling and singing to
herself. She was a slender, beautiful
girl, with violet eyes, a blue-veined forehead
and glossy, abundant eurls of that
pale gold that old painters love to portray.
"I wonder if Mortimer Place is so
very lovely," she said to a silver-haired
lady who sat opposite. "Philip is going
to take mo there when wo return
from our wedding tour, aunty; ho says
it is the sweetest place a. poet's fancy
can devise, with fountains and shrubberies
and delicious copses. Oh, shall
wo not be happy there ?"
She started up with a bright, sudden
blush; for even while the words were
trembling on her lips, Philip Acre camo
into the room, his handsome face looking
a little troubled, yet cheerful withal.
Mrs. Wyllis, with an arch nod at her
nieoe, disappeared into the perfumed
perspective of the conservatory, leaving
?uu AWVf&O W VUCiUOOiVCO.
" You are looking grave, Pliilip,"
siiid Edith, an he bent over and kissed
her cheek.
" And I am feeling bo, darling. I
have a very unpleasant disclosure to
make to-night?our marriage must bo
postponed indefinitely."
"Philip, for 'what reason?"
"To enable me, by diligent labor at
my profession, to realize sufficient
means to support you, dearest, in n
manner satisfactory to your father's expectations
and my own wishes."
" But, Philip, I thought "?
"You thought me the heir of Thomas
Mortimer's wealth? So I was, Edith, a
few hours sinco, but I have relinquished
all claim to it now. When I accepted
the bequest, I was under tho impression
that no living heir existed. I learnt
to-day that a distant cousin - a woman^
is alive, although, my lawyer tells me,
in ignoranoe of her relationship to
Thomas Mortimer. Of course I shall
transfer the property to her immediately."
" But, Philip, the will has made it
legally yours."
" Legally, it has; but, Edith, could I
reconcile it to my ideas of truth and
honor, to avail myself of old Mortimer's
fanciful freak at this woman's expense ?
E might take the hoarded wealth, bnt I
should never respect myself again could
E dream of logally defrauding the rightful
heir. Nay, dearest, I may lose
name and wealtii, but I would rather die
than suffer a single stain on my honor
is a Christian gentleman!"
"You have done right, Philip," said
Edith, with sparkling eyes. " We will
wuit, and hope on, happy in loving one
another more dearly than over. But
s^ho is she? What is her name?"
, " That's just what I didn't stop to inquire.
I will write again to my lawyer
to ask tkeso questions and to direct that |
1 deed of conveyance be instantly made >
rot; and then, darling "?
His lips quivered a moment?yet he
manfully completed the bitter sentence
?"then I will begin the battlj of life
iver again." v
And Edith's loving eyes told him
vhat she thought of his noble self-abnegation?a
sweet testimonial.
"JHem!" said Dr. Wyllis, polishing
lis eyeglasses magisterially, with a silk i
irimson handkerchief ; " I didn't suplose
the young fellow had so much
itamiua about him?a very honorable
;hing to do. Edith, I have never felt
?xaotly about Phil. Acre's l>eing worthy
>f you before "?
" Papa!"
"But my mind is mude up now.
When is he coming again <"
"This evening," faltered Edith, the
riolet eves softly drooping.
"Tell him, Edith, that he may have
tou Dext Wednesday, just the same as !
>ver 1 And as ftr the law practicing?
vby, there's time enough for that aftervard.
Child, don't strangle me with
rour kisses?keep them for Phil."
He looked after his daughter with
>ves that were strfim/?lv ilim
w O J
" Tried?and not found wanting I" he
nuttered, indistinctly.
* * ? ? * * ?
The perfomo of orango blossoms had
lied away, the glimmer of pearls and
iatiu were hidden in velvet caskets and
raveling trunks, and Mr. and Mrs.
kcre, old married peoplo of fnll a
nonth's duration, were driving along a
sountry road, in the amber glow of a
glorious June sunset.
" Hallo! which way is Thomas gong?"
said Philip, leaning from the winlow,
as the carriage turned out of the
nain road.
"I told him the direction to take,
Phil I" said Edith, with sparkling oyes.
" Let me lxave my own way, just for
rnoe. We are going to our new home."
" Are we?" said Phil, with a comical
Pimace. " It is to be love in a oottage,
suppose."
"Wait until you see, sir I" said Mrs.
Acre, pursing her little rosebud of a
mouth. And Philip waited dnteonsly.
"Where are we?" he asked, iu astonishment,
when the carriage drew up
in front of a stately pillared portioo,
whioh seemed to be not unfamiliar to
him. "Burelv this is Mortimer Plaoo 1"
"I shouldn t be surprised if it was,"
Baid Dr. Wyllis, emerging from tho
doorway. " Walk in, my boy? come,
Edith 1 Well, how do you like your
new home!"
" Our new home I" repeated Philip.
" I do not understand you, sir."
"Why, I mean that your littlo wife
yonder is the sole fr-rviving relative of
Thomas Mortimer, although she never
knew it till this morning. Her mother
was old Mortimer's oousin, but some absurd
quarrel had caused a total oessation
of intercourse between the two branohos
of tho family. I was aware of the facts
all along; but I wasn't sorry to avail my
self of the opportunity of seeing what
kind of stuff you were made of, Phil
Acre! And now, as the deed of convey- t
ance isn't made out yet, I don't suppose n
your lawyer need trouble himself about ^
it. The heiress won't quarrel with you,
I'll be bound."
Philip Acre's check Hushed, and then ,
grew pals with strong, hidden emotion, ^
as he looked at his fair wife, standing be- .
side him, when the sunset turned her
bright hair to coils of shining gold, and ,
thought how unerringly the hand of
Providence had straightened out the
tangled web of his destiny. r
Not Allowed in the Cars. I
It happened the other day on the lie- ^
high Valley railroad, says the Reading .
Eagle. The train had just left Easton j;
and the conductor was making his first
round, when ho observed a small white 8
dog with a bushy tail and bright black r
eyes sitting cozily on the seat beside a .
young lady so handsome that it made 1
Ilia heart roll over liko a lob-sided pump- 8
kin. Rut duty was duty, and ho remarked
in his most deprecatory manner: v
" I'm very sorry, madam, but it's 8
against the rules to have dogs in the 8
pnssenger enrs." :
"Oh! my, is that so?" and she
1~ L Li U
kiuuvu up vnv/ iu?mj Ul\MYil (lb Li 1 III 1
beseechingly. " What in the world will *1
I do ? I can't throw hiui awav. He's a
Christmas present from my uunt."
" By no means, miss. We'll put him .
in a baggage oar, and he'll be just as
happy as a robin in spring."
' What I put my nice white dog in a ?
nasty, stuffy, dusty baggage oar?" ''
"I'm awfully sorry, mss, I do assure
you, but the rales of this company ?
are as inflexible as the laws of the Modes
and them other fellows, you know. Ho ^
shall havo my overcoat to lie on, and the
brakeman shall give him grub and water
every time he opens his mouth."
" i just think it's awful mean, so I do; j5.'
and 1 know somebody will steal it, so j1
they will," and she showed a half notion J3,'
to cry thut nearly broke the conductor's
heart, but he was firm, and sang out to 1'.
the brakeman, who was playing a solo n
on the stove : j 111
" Here, Andy, take this dog over to i u<
the baggage car, and tell 'em to take j
just the best kind of cure of him." ; "
The young lady pouted, but the brake- i ??
man reached over and picked the canine :
up as tenderly as though it was a two- i
weeks old baby, but as ho did so a|?.
stvauge expression came over his face,' I d<
and he said hastily to the conductor : f1
" Hero, you just hold him a minute I Jn
till I put this poker away," and he;
trotted out of the car door and held on 01
to the brake wheel, shaking like a man
with agne.
The oonductor no sooner had his
hands on the dog than he looked around i
for a hole to fall through. ; ?
" Wh-wh-why, this is a worsted dog.".,
" Yes, sir," said the little miss, do- lo'
rnureW. " Didn't you know that?"
" No, I'm most awful sorry to say 11 en
didn't know that;" and he laid the ea
Christmas dog down in the owner's lap, tr<
and walked out on tho platform, whero w<
he stood half an hour in the cold, trying th
to think of i^hymntune to suit the worst . th
sold mau on the Lehigh Valley road. ii>.
- in|
How Cattle are Treated. in
During the discussion of a bill before P?
the United States Congress relative to j
the treatment of cattle, Mr. Allison, of " "
Illinois, one of the largest shippers of ; 8
live stock out of Chicago, and who lias I
been engaged in the business for twenty- ' ,
one years, had a hearing before the ? '
House committee on agriculture. He ; ar
said that for fifteen years of that time no wa
one over thought of running cattle more
than twenty four hours without takiug "r
them out of the cars for rest, food and 8*.c
water, and that at suitable points on all
the great railway lines cattle pens were
provided. But some six years ago others ue
who went into the business began run- i
ning their cattle through to New York * ou
without stopping. The bullocks were I1'1
thuH got into a high fever, and on being Wl1
unloaded they were allowed to drink all .
"they could. A bullock in this condition w
will drink from fifty to sixty pounds of
water, and as they are sold in the morn
iug the purchasers pay for this increased ( ou
weight. Iu some instances the cattle are i
fed, but not watered, at Philadelphia, or t "r
Albany, and this adds to the fever, and 8U
increases their capacity for water. The 881
U.t-,.1 *. 1- 1' ' > ? ?n
uuuvucis, uuwover, uoucti U118 IOOCI, anil
complain that the cattlo have been
stuffed, but the water is absorbed into '1S
the system and escapes detection. The 'u
consumers are, of oonrse, the victims ex
in the end, as they not only have to pay > ff1'
for this " watered stook," but eat meat
which cannot be considered healthy. 1
Binoe this mode of running stock was in- ?'
augurated, those previously in the busi- j HO
ness have hail to retire from it, or to
adopt the prosent mode of through i
shipment. IB,
i all
A Western Romance. 1 h<
The Keokuk Constitution says: Not |
long ago there lived in Indianapolis,
lnd., a man and wife who seemed to be |
happy, until the wife discovered that
the husband was false to her. Then she c*
| took her babe and what few effects she i w]
possessed and left?was out on the i th
world, and oompelled to earn a living. I tv
Bhe was a well oducated woman, and ar
could converse in three different lan- It
guages; was refined, and had all the jn
airs of a woman who had the entrance to hi
good sooiety. From place to place she tb
traveled, seeking some employment in
whereby bread might be earned for her b<
I -! - * ? w - 1 -
u.iuy una nerseii. unanco brought her he
to Keokuk, and we suppose being dis- ib
heartened and unable to obtain other bj
employment, she accepted a situation as isi
n servant in a boarding house, and is di
now working there in tnis capacity. pi
Fashion Notes.
Cuirasses with sleeves contrasting ^
he bodice, and matching the skirt,
aost worn, but sleeves made of two
eriale are tho newest. For mourt
nd negligee wear sleeves are cut 1
ud very narrow, but for demi tc
hey rarely reach below the elbow;
heso an approved stylo of finish ii
urn them up with lace, aud ofte
lower or bow of ribbon is added to
end of tho arm.
Antique buttons are in great demf
ml when they are not used bowi
ibbon are given the next preference
Passementerie is worn in prof us
t comes in most costly and beaut
lesigns, among which are bright si
raids of peculiar pattern, dead si
raids, steel braids, ohecked metal
lack braids; also silver passement
tudded with soft balls of blue, pink
ed floss silk.
A novelty in anmonieres is one wl
* almost a squaro of black velvet wi
ilk pocket at the back; the velvet al
hn nnr twf ia o flo* "V
fork of silver, while two rows of
time chain work laid on black ve
arvo to suspend it from the waist,
lie center of the bag is a monogr
iiese can bo punched in silver, \
rongs at the back to attach them as
nired.
All varieties of white lace are fash:
ble excepting Brussels applicati
ralencieunes is very popular auc
rought out in exceedingly expeni
atterus. This lace is used on alu
verythiug?morning dresses,
rosses, hats and oven shoes. The Lc
:i\. guipure is largely devoted to ti
ling ladies' nnderclothiug. Tore!
ice is reserved for edging pettico;
id lnoe brings fabulous prices. Vt
an point in relief, before it reaches
hited States, costs from onehundre<
vo hundred fanes per yard. Pai
jliars and deep end's of this last m
onad lace are much worn. Mi
odices are made with a square collai
io back on which the Venetian poiu
laced. Jabots of lace mixed in w
bbons, and Ohina crepe tichus tr
ed with lace, are much worn with c
sr dresses. Coarse ivorv net with 1
ids and coarse ecru net are used
te neck, tied in large bows over the
: velvet cloaks and jackets. Val
ennes of an ecru shade is introdu*
ir trimming these ecru nets and
her purposes where creme is the eh
Mired. This effect, by the way, can
ade with any white laoo by dipping
coffee.
Black lace is but little seen, except
i black.
The Great American Eagle.
In a centennial speech in the Uni
ates House of Representatives, Ca=?]
. Harrison, of Illinois, spoko as i
ws of the eagle and his work :
Think, Mr. Chairman, of the did
ce between now and 1776. A coma
gle, extending his riight from the
imo eastern limits of civilization to
!8teru limit in 1776, would have mi
at flight in one single day. To-c
0 proudest monarch ol the forest, 1
1 himself from the Atlantic and lo<
$ to the setting suu, ever intent in si
,< o.iward, days, aye weeks, will hi
ssed before he ohall be able to o
i wearied pinions in the spray of I
tcific; and yet we arc afraid of main
centennial precedent of celebrati
a glorious boon handed down to us
76.
Sir, ninety-two years ago, when !
si anniversary ox tiie lourtii of Ji
a celebrated after the acknowle<
>nt of independence, when the g
st belched forth upon the east*
pes of Maine at sunrise that the c
our national birth had come, as
9 sun's rapid flight across the coi
ut gun after gun was heard, in 1
an one hour the last gun was heard
r western limits, and was echoed
3 crack of the red man's rifle, and 1
ir Tjhoop of the Indian was the choi
the orator's patriotic words. Wl
it to-day i
When the sun shall riRo on the foui
July next and shall gild tho hilitc
the St. John's and the boom of 1
unon is heard announcing the one hi
edth birthday of our existence, as 1
n shall roll on in his march of a tin
ad miles an hour, and gun after g
all catch up the detonation of the 1
in, the national anthem will swell, ai
it goes westward until reaching
to stretching from the far north to I
treme south of the gulf of Mexioo,<
and poul shall be heard, a peal o
ousand guns, rocking the very foun
ms of earth, echoed to the blue vai
heaven, mingling its tones with
ngs of the 8tarn as they roll in tb
usical spheres. Aye, sir, that to
at grand national anthem, rolling o
land teeming with population, ricl
I that blesses man, will take nearly 1
>urs going from onr eastern to i
wtern limits.
Who is Doing it.
Who in time, says the Boston Olc
n be running tho Indiana newspap
liile their editors are junketing ab
0 country? Tho fact that sc
ra hundred of those jovial deadhe
c getting attentions all around as
idiana editors, while tho papers run
tst as well as though they were
>me, suggests tho horrid sufipic
1 at thoy aro only holiday editors, a
chment of that noblo army of de
<ats who'are continually disgracing
morable profession and exasperat
i honest and hard-working memb
f representing themselves as jouri
ts, when not one in ten of them e
d a continuous wock's work in a no
iper office in their lives.
Napoleon II. and Fanny Ellsler.
ritk The young Duke of Reichstadt, Naare
poleon II., delicate in. health from his i
ma- birth, had never seemed capable of feelling
ing the least interest in li'e. Nothing ,
ong could rouse him from a profound indif>ilet
ference and melanoholy that penetrated
for his whole being. He distrusted every3
to body; was unwilling to go into society,
u a It was thought that if his affections
the could be enlisted his mind wonld assert
itself. A number of the fairest young
uid, women about the court were presented
) of to him, but their charms, their blandishe.
ments, their oonversation, their passion,
ion. real or feigned, moved him not a jot.
;iful He turned from them in weariness, and
Ivor begged to be excused. Some sagacious ,
Ivor functionary snggeetod that the ballet
and queen should be introduced to the forerie
lorn youth in the guise of a peasant, in
: or the hope that she, so accustomed to oon- 3
quests, might conquer even him. The 1
lick plan succeeded to a charm, and Louis 1
th a fell in hive with the seeming peasant
>out girl. ttho pretended to reciprocate his 1
lain love, never intimating that she was not 1
the ignorant of his birth and position,
lvet Day after day they met in the gardens
In of the palace; then they extended their ;
am; excursions on foot and in carriage, until ,
pith a new spirit and a new life became his. (
i re- He made her his sole oonfldant;
ho told her of his bitter past, the de- ,
ion- spondency; of the hopo and joy she j
ion. I'ad been the first to awaken in his na- j
I is tare; that she was the one human being
jive in all the world he loved or cored for. .
lost In the midst of this idyllic life, the j
ball duke, being one day in the city, felt in- ]
mis clined to visit the theater. That even- *
im- ing he sat listless in the box, hardly
lion heeding the performance, scarcely no- i
ats. ticing the ballet, until a lithe figure of i
?ue- brightness and beauty bounded upon 1
the the scene. He was all eyes and anima- f
1 to tiou at once. He had never imagined
rlor so marvelous a likeness to Marie. Could t
en ho be mistaken ? He leveled his lorg- j
liny netto again and again. t
r at The vision of the lover could not be (
t is deceived. The truth and tho whole
rith truth soon flashed upon him. His j
im- ^fcirie and everybody's Fauny were one j
liu- and the same. The gloss fell from his
aee hand; the poor boy turned deadly pale,
for and might have swooned in his seat had
fur he not been taken from the theater and
en- driven home almost insensible. The 1
jed next morning the story was all over 1
for Vienna. L?ouis never raw Marie more. (
ndo Tho little hopo and faith he had she had 1
be aroused; after that cruel trick he fell
y it onca more into himself, never to hope '
again. He did not live very lon$. The |
ing very night he died sho was dancing iD a i
crowded and applauding theater. She '
had forgotten all about him, but she
still remembered the 20,000 florins that j
ted ^>eeu Pa*d her f?r deceiving him. f
- _ _ . ^
Loving and Being Loved. ?
Perhaps there is no more paiuful
time in a woman's life, says the Home *
;er" Journal, than the time of transition, when *
lou the assiduous lover is passing into the 9
o*- niatter-of-fact husband, and the wooer is 1
its gradually changing into the master.
"1? Women, who are so much more sensitive s
h*y than men, more sentimental, too, and a
dt less content to trust in silence to an un- r
?k* demonstrative affection, are for the most i
part happy only while they are being r
lvo made love to. It is not enough to be
loved; they want to be told twenty times t
the a day, and to have the harmonies of life t
ln8 enriched by a crowd of " occasional i
notes," embroidering the solid substance
hy by which they live, Men, on the con- t
trary, get tired of making love. When
the they have wooed and won, they are con- y
dy tent to be quiet, aud to take all the rest a
*8" for granted. They are not cold, howuu
ever, because they aro secure; and to ^
3rn most?and those the best?practical j
ay kindness is better than flattery, security
ranks beforo excitement and hysteria,
di- nud life passed in serene friendship, *
lTS8 fearing no evil, knowing no break, and 4
on needing no praising, is better than life u
hy passed in a perpetual turmoil of passion, *
the wkere thero are scenes and tears, and *
rns doubt and broken hearts, if there are
not endless courtships and fatiguing 1
demonstrations. f
Liu : 1(
Measuring by the Eye. n
m- Yours ago, ways a correspondent of the ^
the Boston Transcript, when we went to t
au- school in a little weather-beaten school;nn
honse, what exciting contests there used
ant to l>e over the teacher's favorite exercise
ml, of having the soholars estimate with the
r a oye the size and weight of different obthe
j?ots in the room. He would hold up r
jxio his cane, and have each one tell how '
f a long he thought it was, and it was a 1
da- lucky ohild that could oome within half e
xlta a foot of the right length. He would a
the measure an urchin and then have the c
loir scholars trv to reprodnce the measure f"
,ne, on the wall. He would mark off an inch
ver oi' a foot or a yard in some oonspionous e
i in plaoe, and then see how near anybody l
flvo could oome to chalKiug the some length J
our upon the blackboard. And it was aston- ?
ishing how wide astray one would go. ?
TIia in. nnr avad iln/wivn nn riilinn. t
lously ?von upon the commonest things.
At first thought, whioh should you say
was the taller, a throe-year-old child or
K)r8 a flour barrel i and oonld anything but
on' actual measurement eonvinoe you that
,mo the same ohild is half as high as a sixa^8
footer ? There is an old saying that a
ohild two years old is half as tall as he
on ever will be; and after a few experiments
. in measuring one can easily believe it,
but not bofore.
tie
ad- Financial.?The Colorado J*rospectcr
an says : The whole currency of Colorado
ing Springs seems to consist of one five dolors
lar bill, loft by some unfortunate oonlal
sumptive, and when a man wants monev
ver ho must follow that poor bill through
wb- twenty hands, and then may not be able
to reach it.
Items of Interest.
America produoes 1,000,000 paper collars
a day.
Girls in India marry at the age of ten
or twelve.
Venetians eat fried cuttle fish with
lemon juice.
Religious revivals are taking place in <
various parts of the United States.
The Ohinese of Belleville, N. J., celebrated
their New Year's by a tea and
firecracker party.
Tom Paine's birthday was celebrated
by the different associations bearing his
name in the Unitod States.
Laborers in the Miohigan woods are
working for their board. That's what
the woods are for, we believe.
A blind mendicant in Paris wears this
inscription around his neck : "Don't be
ashamed to give only a sou. I can't
3ee."
The man who reads much finds
friends in all places in books. Whenever
he takes np a volume he feels a
tome.
There are fewer distilleries now running
in any of the large oorn raising
counties of central Kentucky than in
finy past year.
Lieutenant Oaxneron traveled on foot
2,953 miles, from Zanzibar to Benguela,
[rusting to mere accident for his liveli- 4k
aood as he went along.
A New Haven tailor called in to testify
lu the city court, stated that " fancy
tailors generally put on about ten or fifteen
dollars for style." He drew it mild.
"HI use it I'll be just as dirty after
t's gone; if I sell it I can have peanuts
ind ride home, too," soliloquised abootclaok
when he found a cake of toilet
?oap.
A popular industry in many river
;owns is the catching Of drift wood. It
s an occupation requiring patience and
i disposition to take things as they
some.
There's always something new. A
'ovlorn lad of ten leads a dog around
own and says to pedestrians : " Please
;imme a cent, and you may kick my
log!"
Boys under fifteen are not allowed to
>o on the streets of Falls Oity, Kan.,
if tor eight p. m., and all profane and inlecent
language is punished with a fine
rad imprisonment.
Among the food products supplied to
the London market is dried egg. The
neat of the egg, both white and yolk,
s reduced to a fine powder, and can be
vet up and used for cooking.
The San Fraucisoo Journal of Commerce
estimates the wheat crop of Calioraia
at a value of ?28,000,000, and,
vhat will surprise many people, the gold
ind silver crop at a million less.
A girl described a gentleman to whom
he was in roduoed as wearing " a starled
look, giving one the impression that
my buuaeo noiw wouju cause mm to
amp through bin necktie and ran away."
Why should the beehive be taken as n
ymbol of industry? Not a bee is to be
ecu all the winter long, while the oockoaoh
is up at five o'clock in the mornDg
and never goes to bed until midlight.
When a man is too iasy to work and
oo cowardly to steal, he sits in a lager
>eer saloon, frowns ominously at a free
unch counter, and remarks to his
irother exile : " The country's going to
he dogs."
The prudent young man does not now
isit female friends without a witness,
nd when one of them breathes a tender
luestion he replies: "No, dearest, it
an never be,4rat I will always be a
irother to you."
There is a woman in the poorhouse at
'awlet, Vt., who can see further than
he majority of her sex. To all offers of
carriage she resolutely replies : " I
ronld not swap the town of Pawlet for
he best man living."
One of the largest and finest stores in
Jew York stands idle to-day, as it has
or five ye >rs. At that time the landlord,
a wealthy old man, fixed his rental,
nd declared that it should stand idle
intil the rent was paid, and it stands
nd will stand until the old man diesand
lis heirs take the thing in hand.
Let the Han Oat.
The late Rev. Dr. Wightmau, one
tight sitting later than usual, sank in
he profundities of a groat folio tome,
magined he Heard a sound in the kitchm
inconsistent with the quietude and
ocurity of a mouse, and so, taking his
andle, he prooeeded to investigate the
ause. His foot being heard in the
obby, the housekeeper began with all
urnestness to oover the fire, as if pre- t
taring for bed. " Yo'ro up late to-night,
dary." " I'm jist rakin the fire, sir,
nd gaun to bed." * That's right, Mary;
like timeous hoars." On his way back
o the study he passed the ooal closet,
nd, turning the key, took it with him.
?ext morning, at an early hour, there
ras a rap at his bedroom door, and a
equeet for the key, to pnt a fire on.
' Ye're toe soon up, Mary; go baok to
ronr bod yet." Half an hour later
here was another knock, and a similar
eqnest, in order to prepare for breakast.
"I don't want breakfast so soon,
dftrv: am back to vonr Red." AnntW
iRlf hoar, and another knoek, with an
ntreaty for the key, as Lit was washing
lay. This waa enough. He arose and
landed out the key, saying: " Go and
et the man oat" Mary's sweetheart
lad been imprisoned all night in the
>oal closet, as the preacher shrewdly
inspected, where, Pyramia and Thisbeike,
thoy had breathed their lore
hroogh the keyhole.
*9