Newspaper Page Text
. 'H* 1 ! fk ~>V* . " T" i r- - " ?| VOLUME XXXVII. CAMDEN, S. C., NOVEMBER 21,1878. NUMBER 19. ?i ? , . ? THE CAMDEN JOURNAI i * sr*. ;?* Published Every Tkursda At CAMDEN, S. C.y BV ft.ALEXANDER SUBSCRIPTION" RATES. (In Advance.) -sr* One Year 12 ?< Nix .tf on J lis 1 2! DR. 7 h7ALEXANDER, Dental Sui*gfeon9 GRADUATE OF THE PHILADELPHIA C0X.LI01 OF PKKTAL SURGE^RT. Office, Next door to County Treawrtr' 3 Office CAMDEN", S. C. DR. T. BERWICK LEGARE, DENOTST, GRADUATE OF THE LTIMORF. COLLEGE OF DENTAL SURGERY. OFFICE?DEKALB HOUSE. Entranca on Broad Street Wm~JT TRANTHAM, ATTORNEY Ar LAW, BROAD STEET, Camden, S. O. j.t. hay, attorney at law AND Trial Justice Office over store of Messrs. Baurn Bros. Special attention (riven :othe collection of claims. j. w. dEPASS, 7v . attorney at law . 'j 0 \j \ Trial Justice. laslness of all kinds promptly transacted. w. l. Repass, attorney at law, CAMDEN, S. C. Will practice in all the State and Federal Courts. Jan2#tr T. H. CLARKE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, . QAMDEN, S? ^ Office?That formerly occupied by Capt. J. M. Davis. jantfitf PHOTOGRAPHS ! Mr. W. S. Alexander being in Camden on a short visit, will open his Gallery for the accommodation of his many friends and former patrons. Ho is prepared to take as fine Pnotogrupha as can be mado in the State. Copying and enlarging also done in the best style. He has on hand a splendid assortment of Picture Frames, Chromos, etc., for sale at the lowest cash prices. Give him a call. " FREDERICK J. HAY, Architect and Builder, CAMDEN, S. C., ? Will /ttrnish plans and estimates for ell kinds nf buildings. Contract* taken at I moderate figures, and promptly and carefully attended to. Orders left at the CaMDEK Journal office wilt ro^aiva immediate attention. Marchltf JOHN C. WOLST, PLAIN, ORNAMENTAL, aKd SIGN PAINTER, Paper Hanger $ Glazier, j CAMDEN, S. C. sept23_12m Riddle'sTHotelfj LANCASTER C. H., S. C. Having purchased the Hotel formerly occupied by Mr. Jouea Crockett, situated on Main streat,. I am prepared to receive transient and permanent fcoarders. Good accommodations at reasonable rates. Stables and Lota free to drovers. Janldlf J. M. RIDDLE, Be Sure t? Stop at the Latham House, CAMDM, S. C. (Teas s!ext Boapd, $2.00 pee day.) :o: ^g?*Ample accommodations. Tables supplied with the best the Markets afford. Eve" '" 1I.0 Mmfnrt of Guests. ry attention pam ..... Persons stopping at the Latham House will be conveyed to and from the depot free of charge. Passengers, without iieavy baggage, will be conveyed" to and from any part of the town, not above DeKalb street, at 2d cents. ?<2yCohnected with the house is a first class Car, which is located separately from the house, and orderly kept. BSyConvcyauccs supplied to guests on liberal terms, cither for city or country use. jan8-ly S. B. LATHAM, Proprietor. fgWatches>3to<7. Kt-volvrr??? \TT\ $2.50. Over 100 latest Novelties AJ'u wasted. Sa.8?(ppljrCe.Ha?l>tUl?.Tciin.^W^P BOOTS, SHOES, AC. The undersigned respectfully informs his friends and the public generally that he may still be found at his shop, one door west of the postoffice, where he is prepared -* ""'t >n thomoat atvlisb . to execute prumpiy ^. and durable manner ftll jobs that may be given hhn. He'will also make or repair harness, or in fact anything else In his Sine. He only solicits a call. 18 A AO YOUNG. Aug* f?tf TWOLF E, CHEAP DRY GOODS STORE. ALSO, Buys and pays the highest market price for green and dry cow hides, sheep, fox, otter, mink, raccoon and rabbit skins. Also, rags, wool, tallow, beeswax, old iron, brass, copper, Ac. janltf iA/?*rtr_Dnr!fwincr f!hain Pumo Tf&ICI-1 u i 11 j 11wiiHII, . ( Acknowledged to be superior to any other pump known. No valvei to get out of or der. Bucket and chains made of galvanised maleable iron. The foulest water made pnre by the use . of this pump. 1C feet or less, $10; each additional foot, 6C cents. This pump may be examined at lh( Latham House. jan8-tf LATHM & PERKINS. BOOTMAKER. W. C. Young, Wiving opened a shop on Bro 8tre*l, one' ddbr T>el<Jw K.,fl.'Me(*eig)rt-<fe- -Son' Gin Factory. In Mr. G. S. Douglas' old store, rt spectfully solicits the patronage of the public. H wlll make or repair Boots, Shoes, Harness &c. On toe shortest aotlbe and 1 a the moat fi\tub /a^SS^m DISCONTENT. ' Two boats rocked on the river, In the shadow of leaf and tree; : One was in love with the harbor; One was in love with the sea. The one that loved the harbor The winds of fate outbore; But held the other, longing Forever against the shore. The one that rests on the river, In the shadow of leaf and tree, With wistful eyes looks ever To the one far out at sea. Tlie one that rides the billow Though sailing fair and fleet, Looks back to the peaceful river, To the harbor safe and sweet One frets against the quiet Of the moss-grown shaded shore; One sighs that it may enter That harbor nevermore. One wearies of the dangers Of the tempest's rage and wail; One dreams amid the lilies. Of a far-off snowy sail. Of nil that life can teach us, There's naught so true as this? The winds of faie blow ever, But ever blow amiss. THE MAIN BRIDGE. 1. It was past midnight?the lights on the stone bridge which crosses the river Main at Frankfort were still burning, though the footsteps of passengers had died away for some time on its pare* ment, when a young man approached the bridge from the town with hasty strides. the same time, another man, advanced in years, was coming toward him from Sachsenhausen, the well-known suburb on the opposite side of the river. The two had not yet met, , I when the latter turned from his path i and went toward the parapet with the | evideut intention of leaping from the ] [bridge into the Main. . j J The young man' followed him quick- i ? i i f > i.i.i .< L: ly aDa iaiu uoiu 01 mm. 'Sir,' said he,'I think you want to. < drown yourself.' ' ] k 'What is that to you ?' 'I was only going-to ask you to do me the favor to wait a few minutes and allow < me to join you. Let us draw close to j each other and, arm-in-arm, take the J leap together. The idea of making the < journey with a perfect stranger,,; who < had chanced to come for the snmo pur- i pose, is really rather interesting, for j many years I have not made a request to j any human being; do not refuse me i The young man held out his hand. | His compaion took it. He continued, with enthusiasm : 'So be it; arm-in- j arm. I do not ask who you are, pood i or bad?come, let us drown.' - | The elder of the two, who had at first been in so great a hurry to end his ex* ^ !o!?onoo nnw restrained the imDetnositv 1 ioubu?v, ww" " r if-r of tbe younger. 'Stop, sir/ said be, wbilo his weary | eyes tried to examiue the features of his | companion. 'Stop, sir. Youspem to | me to be too young to leave life in this , way; for a man of your years life must have still bright prospects.' 'Bright prospects!?in the midst of rottenness and decay, vice and corruption ! Come, let us end it.' 'And so young! Let me go alone, and do you remain here. Believe me, there are many good and honest people who could render life charming for you. Seek them, and you aro sure to find tbem.' 'Well, if life presents itself to you in hues so bright, I am surprised you should wish to leave it.' 'Oh, I am only a poor old sickly man, unable to earn anything, aod who can endure no longer that his only child, an angel of a daughter, should work day and night to maintain him. To allow this longer I must be a tyrant, a barba* rian/ 'What,sir !' exclaimed the other, 'you have an only daughter sacrificing her? self for your sake ?' 'And with what patience, what sweetness, what love, what perseverance ! I sec her sinking under her toil and her deprivations, and not a word of complaint escapes from her pallid lips. 8he works and starves, and still has a word ! of love for her father.' 'And you commit suicide ! Are you mad ?' 'Dare I murder that angel ? The " ~n rlacrcrpr ' tnOUglU pieruca mj iivoiv - ?r,r>?, said the old man, eobbing. . 'Sir, you must have supper with me; I see a tavern open yonder. Come, you must tell me your history, and I will tell you mine. There is no occasion for you to leup into the river. I am a rich man; your daughter will no longer have to work, and you shall not starve.' The old man allowed himself to be dragged along by his companion. Jn a few minutes they were seated at a table in the tavern, with refreshments before them, and each e$ag)jning curiously the features of the other. Refreshed by the viands, the old man began thus: 'My history is soon told. I was a ' mercantile man; but fortune never . favored me. I bad no money myself, I and I loved and married a poor girl. 1 i eould never begin business on my own 1 account.' I -took a situation as book' j keeper, which I held until I became use' . 11< ss from age, aod younger men were preferred -to me. Thus my circumi stunces were always circumscribed, but 1 ? . my domestic happiness was. compieie. wife, an ftficel df love, kindn??s dnd e fondness, was good and pious, active and affectionate; and wy daughter is j the true image of her mother. But age l? apd jllness hav? brought me to the last extremity, and' my'"coDBcTencei" fevolts against the idea of the best child in the world sacrificing her life for an old useless fellow. I caunot have much longer to live, and I hope the Lord will pardon in} for cutting off a few days or weeks from my life in order to preserve that of my dear Bertha.' 'You are a fortunate man, my friend,' exclaimed the young man; 'what you call misfortune is sheer nonsense, and can be cured. To-morrow I will make my will, and you shall be the heir of all my possessions, and to-morrow night I will take the leap from the Main bridge alone. But before I leave this world, I must see Bertha, for I am anxious to look upon one who is worthy tho name of a human being.' 'Sir, what can have made you so unhappy at this early nge ?' said the old uian, moved with compassion. 'I am the only son of ono of tlio richest bankers of Frankfort, My father died five years ago and left me the heir to an immense fortune. From that moment, every one that has come in contact with me has endeavored to deceive and defraud me. I was a child in innocence, trusting and confiding. My education had not been neglected, and I possessed my mother's Joving heart. My friends, or rather the villains whom I mistook for friends, and to whom I opened my heart, betrayed me, and then laughed at my simplicity; in time T ftwnnfionrtrt On/1 intT Vl Onrf X ^aiilUJCU CApciiruvV} uuu uij nwui v was filled with distrust. I was betrothed to a rich, heiress, possessed of all fashionable accomplishments; I adored her with enthusiasm; her love I thought would repay me for every disappointment. But I soon saw that she wished to make me her slave, and yoke all other men besides to her triumphal chariot, I broke off the engagement, and selected a poor but charming girl?a sweet innocent being, as I thought, who would be my life's own angel. Alas! L found her one day bidding adieu with tears md kisses to a youth whom she loved; ?he bad accepted mc for my wealth only. My peace of mind vanished, I sought diversion in travel. Everywhere I found the same hollowntss, the same, treachery, the same misery. In short,1 I became disgusted with life, and resolvod to put an end this night to the pitiable farce,' 'Unfortunate young man,' said tho ather, with tears of sympathy, 'I pity pou. I confe93 I have been moro fortunate than yoa. I possessed a wife and daughter, who came-forth pure and immaculate from the hand of the Creator. The onfrhas returned to Him in rtnr vrtifieuem oP'BEr aCul, fetid ei) will " the other.' 'Give me your address, old man, and permit me to visit your daughter tomorrow. Also give me your word of honor that you will not inform her, or nsinuate in any manner that I am a rich man.' The old man held out his hand. . 'I give you my word. I am anxious to convince you that I have spoken tho truth. My name is "Wilhelm Schmidt, and here is my address giving him at the same time, a bit ofpaper which he drew from his pocket. 'And my name is Karl Traft, I am tho son of Anton Traft. Take these bank-notes, but only on condition that you do not leave this bouse until I fetch you from it. Waiter! a bedroom- for this gentleman. You require rest, Herr Schmidt. Good-night. To-morrow you will seo me ngain.| II. In one of the narrow and ill-lighted streets of Sachsenhausen, in an attic of a lofty and unsightly house, sat a blonde, about twenty years of age, busily employed with her needle. The furniture of tho room was clean and tastefnl Th? crirl's whole dress would not n-? have fetched many kreutzers; but every article fitted her as well, as if it had cost hundreds. Her fair locks shaded a face brightened by a pair of eyes of heavenly blue; The spirit of order, modesty and cleanliness reigned *%in everything around her. Her features were delicate, like those of one noble born; her eyes betrayed sleeplessness and anxiety, and ever and anon a deep sigh rose from tho- maiden's breast. Suddenly steps were heard on the staircase, and her face lighted up with joy. She listened, and doubt seemed to shadow her brow. Then came a knock at the door, which made lier tremble so tnucb that she vlmost wanted the pnnrnrre to sav "Come in." A young man, shabbily dressed, entered the room, and made a low, awkward bow. 'I beg pardon, ipiss/ said he; 'does Herr Sfcbmidt lire here?' 'Yes sir. What is your pleasure V 'Are you his daughter Beitha ?' 'I am.' 'Then it is you that I seek. I am from your father/ 'For heaven's sake, where is he.? Something must have happened?he has ; I" -Ml. ) stayed away aii Dignt. The misfortune is not so very gf-ejit.' Oh, my poor, pooy father! what shall I hear.*' The young man seemed to observe these visible marks of anxiety with j great interest; he said?"Do not be frightened; it is nothing of great im! portance. Your father met last pight 11 !-!.??? otlin in nil or] him ' un 0)0 aeijuniuiaiikc, nuw 1 to a tayirn. They had supper together ' but when the landlord came for his bill, j your father's friend had decamped, and i left him to pay the score. He had not | sufficient money for this; and 'now the | host will not let him go until he is ' paid, and declares that unices he gets ! his money, he will send him to prison.' i 'To prison !' exclaimed the girl, i j 'Can you toll me how much Urn bill comes to ?' 'Three florins and a half.' '0 God!' sighed the girl, 'all have does not amount to more than oni florin, but I will go at once to Madami Berg, and beg her to advance me thi money.' 'Who is*Mndame Berg?' 'The milliner for whom I work.' fBut if Madame Berg does not ad vaDce the money?what then ?' The girl burst into tears. 'I am muoh afraid she will refuse I already owe her ono florin, and she i; very hard.' ' 'For what purpose did" you borrov the money yo?owe her *' rru? to fnrl fA TT 1 tic gill UCOilHVCU %.\J ? CJ/IJ ? 'You may trust me.' , , .. 'Well, my fathor is very weak, and requires strengthening, I borrowed that money to get a quarter of a fow for him.' 'Under these ciroumstances, I feai Madamo Berg will not givo you any more. Here is one florin, but that it all I possess. Have you any valuables upon which we oould raise som? money.8" ' .* 7 Bertha considered for a moment. 'I have nothing,' said she at length, 'but my poof mother's prayer book. On her death bed she entreated me not to part^rith it, and there is nothing id the world I hold more sacred than her momnm onil tfm nrnintSA T CAVP llSP? "" """'Jl ? I o / but 6till, for my father's sake, I must not hesitate.' With a trembling hand she took the book down from the shelf. '0, sir,' said she, 'during many a sleepless night I have been accustomed to enter the secret thoughts of my heart on the blank leaves at the end of the booK. I hopo DOone will know whose writing they are; will you promise me that.?* . 'Certainly, Bertha. I will take care that your 9ecrets shall not bo: profaned. But now get ready thnt we may go.' While she, left the room to put on her bonnet and shawl, Karl Tratt, (for the young man was no other than our horo), glanced- over the -writing in the book, and hia-?ycs filled :with tears of emotion and delight as he read the outpourings of a pure and pious heart; and when they had left tho* bouse together, and oil" Tnno nrnltinn kiiflilla him IT it'll fl die. Dili; IT BO nuiniu^ vvuiww ?< ?*? *? ? ? ?.. ^ city of which she seemed entirely unconscious, he cast upon her locks of respect and admiration. They first went to Madame Berg, who did not give the advance required, but assured the youn?ffl?n that Bertha was an angel. Certainly' this priis'e Mr. TTaTl VuTuoO tgfier xhan the money he had asked for. . They pawned~tKfTbbo^7 and the required sum was made up. Bertha was overjoyed. 'But it you spend all your money today,' remarked the young man, * 'on what will you live to-morrow ? < 'I do not know, but I trust in God. I shall work the whole night through.' When they came to the tavern, the young man went in first to prepare old Mr. Schmidt for the part he wished him to act; then he fetched Bertha. It is impossible to describe the joy he felt when he saw the young girl throw herself in her fathers arms, and press him to her heart. She paid the bill aud triumphantly lad him home. Traft accompanied them and said he had a few more kreutzers in his pocket; she had better go and get something to eat. It was late before Treft went home thas night; but the leap from the Main bridge was no more thought of. He came to the house every evening, in order, as ho said, to share with them his scanty earnings. About a fortnight after, as he was going away one evening, he said to Bertha; 'Will you bcoome my wife.?r I am only a poor clerk, but I am honest and upright.' Bertha blushed and cast her eyes to the ground. "" A few flays after, the young couple, simply but respectably attired, and accompanied by Herr Schmidt, went to church, whero they were married in a quiet way. When they came out, man and wife, an elegant carriage was standing at the door, and a footman in rich livery let down the step. 'Come/ said the happy husband to ..his bewildered wife, who looked at him with amazement. Before she could utter a word the three were seated/" 'tljC carriage, driving away at a quick pace. The carriage stopped before a splendid house in the best part of Frankfort. They were received by a number of domestics, who conducted them to apartments decorated in tho moat costly style. 'This is your mistress,' said Traft to the servants; 'and her commands yon have henceforth to obey. My darling wife/ said he then, turning to Bertha, I am Karl Traft, one of the wealthiest men of this city:' Life. If we die to-day, the sun will shine as brightly, the birds will sing as sweetly to-morrow. Business will not be suspended a moment, abd the great mass will not bestow a thought upon our memories. 'Ts ho dead ?' will be the solemn inquiry of a few, as they pass to their work. But no oue will miss us, accepting our immediato connections, and ip a sljort timo they wil forget and laugh as merily as when we "L u?:-3" Thus shall we all N?u ucaiue kiicui. j.,. v. now Qolivo in life, pass away. Oui children crowd close behind us, anc $ey will soon pass away. In a fev years not a living being can say, 'I re. member Jhim.' He lived in anolhe age, and did business with those wh< !" tomb. This is life ? CM U LU I'd IU *?* w < 11 How rapidly it paaacs. dm 'a .V Nothing New Under the Sun. Some enterprising American can I make to himself a name and, in due 6 time, a brown-stone local habitation, by 9 simply exploring the archives of the 9 Chinese Patent Office, resurecting therefrom tho forgotten inventions of the world for the past thousand years, and serving them up anew and ready made for future use. Your mild-eyed, melancholy, opiumeating Oeleetial is charged, somewhere in the long list of his offences and fail1 ings, with beiDg an wholly imitative animal, tiie latest proor or tne pereisr fence of this characteristic being that it has actually compelled him of late to wear his shirt inside of his trowsers. Your Chinaman of to-day is not a 1 living being, but a lire mummy?a moss of mechanical mind, and flesh and blood I cast in a mould ever so many thousands of years old. He is the veritable ' "Wandering Jew," in all save his wanr derings. He was 5,000,000 years old i when tbe "Wandering Jew" was born, and distinctly remembers incidents in tbe history of Adam's grandfather, Now, when this copper-colored representative of the world's Past steps on , shore in "Frisco," in America, the TT J1 ?<. l,:~ * iiuvuiuuja uiu^rv ut uiui, uuu uiu mrcot among the barbarians discuss critically the question what shall be done with him. His pig-tail annoys them ; his shirt worn outsido of his belt amuses them ; his capacity for living on nothing and beeping fat, of working for nothing at his own expense and getting rich, angcri them. They cry out against him and against his cheap labor ?he is a mere human machine, and not . ..worthy to compete with the young republican, the man or mighty ?TterpTise and invention. Go to! oh ignorant Hoodlum. Know you not that this same cnmel-eycd copper-colored vagabond touched off bis fire cracker in honor of his Joss some cehturics before gunpowder was in . i ?.1 _i_:i veniea, unci ran a uauy uewsjjupci ucivic the frozen sea of the Silurian epoch had so much as begun to thaw above the land that was destined to produce Guttenburg and Faust, tho inventors of the art preservative of all arte. Those are only instances taken at random j from an infinite field. What we are learning he has forgotten, and wo teach him again. You speak of steam engines, and Canfncins reaches upon a back shelf and hands you down the model, in good order save for its coating of dust some five feet thick. You mention tho comKass?it*8 the lame story, though 't? ard tolind so small an ob]ect -a?wng so many. But we have the knavo on tho bip at last. EdiBon!?the telephone ! we exclaim with pride at having gotton hold of something original at last. But no ! This old heathen only smiles in his sad oblique-eyed sort of way and turns over the records in patienco until he points to the certain entry which he knew was there, which we know was there, despite all our transient self-glorification. The writing, older by some ages than that of Cadmus, is a trifle obscure to our eyes, but when translated reads in substance that in the year 976 one Ching Ling Ping, or some such other sounding son of a gong-maker, in "vented precisely the same instrument now known as the telephone, which has been in use there ever since.?News and Courier. She Was Boss. For half an hour before the show opened an anxious-looking, middle-aged man was observed walking around nervously as if he had a free ticket and was afraid the show was on the point of bursting up. When the ticket wngon opened he made a rush for it and bought a paste board, but while on his | way to tho tent, ticket in hand, a woman dodged into the processipn, seized his collar, and for a minute the air seemed full of heels. v. 'Going to the circus, eh ?' exclaimed the woman as she slammed him around. 'Sneaked out of the back way and made a bee-lino for here, did you ?' 'Let up on me?step?for Heaven's sake I stop this disgraceful conduct!' he said as ho'tried to keep ber at arm's longth. 'Gentlemen,'said to tho crowd, as she held up one foot and the other ?'see them bIiocs, I've worn 'cm better nor a year, and there hain't nothing iefti bnt heels and shoe-strings. All the children are just as bad off, aDd we don't have half enough^ to eat? That explains why I'm bouncing him?why I make his good for nothing heels break bis good for nothing neck !' They fell over a rope as she grasped him, and in the confusion he broke away, leaving the ticket on the ground. She picked it up, and wiping the mud off her nose with her apron, she said : 'I hain't seen no giraffer, nor clowns nor snakes, nor hyenas for twenty-live 1 years, and being this 'ere ticket is 1 bought I'll walk in and view the georfrftnnsueas. and the children shall come , to night if I have to pond the washtub to raise the money!?Detroit Free Press. A young woman in Atlanta, Georgia, I bought from an elderly woman her son, i for tho purpose of making a husband of , bim. The yonng man was twenty yoars : old; tho mother, however, sold him for i a muslin dress and a few yards of calico. 7 The trade was made on Sunday^ and . the man was to be delivered three miles r from the purchaser's house on the Tues3 day following, and although that Tues! day was a bad day, the fair purchaser walked in the rain to get possession. The Doctrine of Onances. It is an andoubtablc result of the theory of probabilities that every gambler,, if he continues long enough, must i ultimately be ruiocd. Suppose he fries ; the martingale played in gambling houses. In the method of playing he first bets 81; if he loses it, he bets 8% , if he loses that, he bets 84; if he loses that, be bets 88; if he then gains, he has lost 1 plus 2 plus 4 equal 7, and he i ^ ' j <r> 1 3 a a. i nas guinea ?i more, anu no matter now many bets he loses, the first one he gains will make him $2 richer than he was in the beginning. In that way he will probably gatrf at first; but at last the time will come when the run of luck is so against him that he will not have money enough to double, and. must therefore let his bet go. This will probably happen before he has won as much as he had in the first place, so that this run against him will leave him poorer than be began; sometime or other it will be sarc to happen. It is true that thero is always a possibility of his winning any sum the bank can pay, and we thus come upon a celebrated paradox that, though he is certain to Ua # ll A IfllllA n r ll ia UC lUliiCU) IUQ TUJUU Ui ma CA|/U^kabIULIj calculated according to the usual rules (which omit this consideration) is "very large. But, when a gambler plays in this way or any other, the same thing is true?namely, that is if he plays long enough ho will be sure some, time to have such a run against him as to exhaust "his entire fortune. The same thiDg is true of an insurance company. Let the directors take the. utmost pains to be independent of great conflagra* tions and pestilences, their actuaries can tell them Lhat according to the doctrine of chances the time must come at last when their losses will bring tbem to a stop. They may tide over such a crisis by extraordinv means, but then they will stnrt again in a weakened state, and the same thing will happen all the sooner. An actuaay might be incJrned to deny this, because he knows that tho expectations of his company .are large, or perhaps (neglecting the interesting of money) i? infinite. Bat calculations of expectations leave out of account the circumstances now under consideration, which reverses the whole thing. However, I must not be understood as say- j ing that insurance is on this account j unsound more than other kinds of business. All baman affairs Test upon j probabilities, and the same thing is true everywhere. If man was immortal he could be perfectly euro of seeing the day when everything ho had trusted iu should betray his Vast, - and,, short, of coming eventually to hope loss misery. He would break down at last, as every great fortune, as every dynasty, as every civilization, does. In the place of this we have death.?Popular aScience Montlv. Equal to the Occaeiou. Braggarts are generally easy to be scared. A French shoemaker, fond of boasting that nothing could frighten liirn, proved an exception to tho rulo. Two young fellows resolved to put him i to the test, so one shammed dead, and the other prevailed on the shoe-maker to watch the body through the night, Being busy, ho took his tools with him and worked beside the corpse. About midnight a cup of black coffee was brought to him to keep him awake, and he was so exhilerated by tho draught that he struck up a merry song, still plying his jammer vigorously. Suddenly the would-bo corpse arose and said, in sepulchral tones, "When a man is in tbe presence of death he should notsiog." The shoe-maker was startled, but recovering his self-possession in a moment, he dealt the corpse a blow on the head with the hammer as he uttered : "When a man is dead he should not speak/' The Quest. When the guest comes, not merely open your doors, but open your heart. He has left a home to come to you; let. bim hud a home when be comes to you. , Flo has left bright faces; ftt him find i them. Ho has left sincerity; may he | not miss it when he enters tho atmosphere of your presence. IIo has left much; so treat him so that he shall feel he has .found more. So shall he be. happy with you; so shall he bo grateful. Don't be superserviceable. A guest has a right to bo attended to; ho also has a right to be left alone. Don't command his time; let him command vour time. Don't rush him 'about and push him around from social courses of your own allotment. Let him loaf/ let him lounge; let him stroll about the place and be lazy; let him do as he has a mind, and then if be cannot be happy remember him with charity, but as an individual aud social enormity. For he who cannot be happy in liberty represents a creative misfortune. * Who are Blessed ? The man who minds his own business; the woman who never says to her husband, 'T told you so;" the man who can sew on his own buttons when the baby is crying; the mother-in-law who never reminds you that you arc married above your station; the young men that don't hate old people and children; the old bachelor that don't hate cats and pincushions; the married people that don't wish they were singlb; the single people that are content to remain soothe husband who never says that Jiis mother's pies were better than his wife's are. A woman in Paris lias made' a i'orwI tune by keeping American pumpkin pies at her restaurant. V.< A DverhsTT^" RATES. " Tins. 1 in. . ^ col. J col. 1 col. 1 w?ek,$l 00 $5 00 $9 00 $15 00 2 " 1 75" 7 50 12 25 20 00 3 ?? 2 50 9 00 16 26 24 00 4 " 3 00 10 50 18 UU it ou 5 " 8 50 11 76 20 50 81 00 6 " 4 00 12 60 22 76 84 00 7 ?? 4 50 13 25 24 76 37 00 8 " 6 00 14 00 26 00 40 00 3 mos 6 60 17 00 "32 00 60 00 4 " 7 50 ! 19 00 39 60 69 00 6 " 8 60 24 00 48 00 84 00 9 " 9 50 80 00 69 00 105 00 12" 10 25 35 00 68 00 120 00 5F" Transient advertisements mast be accomaiiled wltb the cash to Insure Insertion. Died of Remorse. A remarkable case of death from remorse for a deed of exceptional cruelty to animals is reported from Denmark. A family, well known in Copenhagen, had long been in the habit of spending their Sundays in one of tlie parks near the city, taking with them a son, seven years old. A few Sundays ago, tbe little fellow, unnoticed by his parents, discovered an unusually large toad, and amused himself by tormenting it iti various ways, finally plunging a sharp stick through its boay, so fastening it to the ground. The next Sunday the family again visited the park, and the boy. remembering bis sport of the previous week, went in Bearch of moro toads. He found tbe animal ho had so cruelly used still pinned to the earth; and still alive. As be approached, the poor thing looked at him, its immense eyes distended with pain and suffering. Tbe child was terror-stricken at the sight, and ran Crying to his mother, to tell her what he had doue.? Ho was taken heme in a great state of excitement and put to bed, where he remained, for three days in a burning fever, which ended in his death. Just beforo his death he declared that whor ? L. 1 I 1 t.- iL. ?J? ever no luu^eu ne saw wio picaaiog eyes of the poor Joad, aod begged *o have it . taken away. Music as a Stimulent. ' AlGeri often before he wrote, prepared his nind by listening to music ; "almost all my tragedies "wero sketches in my mind either in the act of hearing music, or a few hours after," a circumstance which has been recorded of many others. Lord Bacoo had music played in the room adjoining bis study.. Milton listened to his organ for his solemn inspirations; aod music was even necessary to Warfurton... The symphonies which awoke in the poet sublime emotions, might have composed the inventive mind of (he great critic in the visions of his theoretical mysteries. A celobrated French preacher, Bousdalone of Massillon was once found playing on a violin, to screw his mind up to the pitch, preparatory to the sermon, % which withiu a short interval, he was to preach before the court. Currant's favorite mode of meditation was with bis violin in bis.hand; for hoars together ho would forget hioiself, running voluntarily over the strings, while his imagination, in collecting tones, was opening all his faculties for the coming emergency at the bar. D'Ishaeli. Superstitious Regarding Friday. / It is strange enough, that Fjiday is regarded in all countries as a peculiar day. In England it is generally considered unlucky ; many people will not commence any undertaking on that day: and most sailors believe that the vessel is sure to be wrecked that sails on Friday. If a marriage takes place on that day, the old wives shake their heads, aod predict all kinds of misfortunes to the bride and bridegroom. Nay, they even pity all children who arc so unlucky as to be born on a Friday. 'In Germany, on the contrary, Friday is considered a lucky day for weddings, commencing new undertakings, or other memorable events; and the reason of this superstition is said to be the aucieDt belief, that the witches and sorcerers held their weekly meeting on this day; and of course, while-they were amusing themselves with dancing, and riding on broom-sticks round tlio Block* sperg, they could have no time to work any evil.- * .' I .? . Don't Quarrel. People talk of lovers' quarrels as rather unpleasant episodes?because they are not quarrels at alb It is a half play, and they know it. Matrimonial quarrels are anothor thing. We doubt seriously if married people ever forgive each other after tho first falling out. They gloss it over, they kiss and make it up, the wound apparently heals, - ' ' ? ? 4 l? U/MiwikU UT/Minr)o oitrnn DUD UUiy US 111U9Q IIUIIIUIC fuuuuu ^??vu in battle do?to break out again at some unexpected moment. The mau who has sneered and said things to a sensitive woman never has her whole heart again. The woman who has uttered reproaches to a man can never be taken to his bosom with the same tenderness as before those words were spoken, The two people who must never quarrel are husband and wife. One may out with kinsmen, and make up and be friends again; but love, once banished, is a dead and buried thing. Dirinc Sunshine. There is no more- beautiful passage in Tyndall than the one in which ht says all the forces now working in na ture aro solar ones. The subtle power of steam and the immense coal deposits are only condensed oud preserved sunshine. So divine influence, all through the centuries, is stored up in institutions. IIow sweet and bland this sunshine ! We look up, and the wholo globe above us seems a vast goblet of sunlit wine. As it falls on the bending, yielding willow; its influence seems only gentle and harmless. But let it fall c>u the living tree growing by the wall, ii will cause the tree to force the heaviest stoue or brick wall out of its way. the soul grows, and Christian character is developed, under the divine sun.. An Arkansas constable's pistol being stolen, he advertised that, ifjthc thief would return it, ho would give him the contents, and no questions would be asked: - f?4