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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., OCTOER 7, 1879. V 11.-NO. 107.
THE WHIP-POOR-WILL When apple-branches, flushed with bloom, Load June's warm evenings with perfume, And balmier grows each perfect day, And filds are sweet with new mown-hay, shon, minstrel lone, I hear thy note, Up from the pasturo-thickets float Whip-poor-will I Thino are the hours to love endeared, And summoned by thy acoonta weird, What wild regrets-what tender pain, Ilocalls my youthful dreams again, As floating uown the shadowy years, That old refrain fond memory hears Whip-poor-will I The garish day inspires thee not; But bid in some deep-shadod grot, Thou like a sad reoluso dost wait The silver hours inviolate, When every harsher sound is flown, And groves and glens are thine alone, Whip-poor-willI Then, when the ra;. t. voluptuous night Pants in the young moon's tender light, And woods, and olifts, and shimmering streams, Are splendid in her argent beams How thrIlls the lover's heart to hear Thy loud staccato, liquid olear, Whip-poor-w ll1 Wheneo comes thy itorated phrase, That to the wandering oar convoys half-human sounds, yet oboats the sense With vagueness of intelligence, And like a wandering voice of air, Haunts the dim fields, we know not where, Whip-poor-will I My First and Only Love. It ias often been a matter of wonder to in why I loved Elwyn Ashton as I did. le was twelve years my senior, and I only clighteen ; yet I loved him. I remember well how gloriously the sun shone on tha summer afternoon when we stood together on the lawn waiting for the carriage to arrive that should bring Liuvit Eleanor to spend sonio weeks at our house. 1, so proud of him, so happy at the pros peet of seeing Aunt LEleanor's ad miration for my noble darling, so shy at his admiration for myself, so hopeful that they would like each other and be friends. "For she is very beautiful, Elwyn, I said, and only ten years older than I am:" I can see now the quiet laugh In his dark eyes, and the playful curve of the lips, as of one humoring a petted child-a strange wife I should have been for him, after all. And there was a sound of wheels, and drawing my arm in his, he led mne to the front entrance to welcome my Aunt. I do not clearly remember when that first feeling of jealousy stole Into my mhid. I thhinc I scareelf undorstbed it' wien first 'it did e6m16. He had'never changed to me; I was ever uppermost in lils thoughts ; all his niost graceful attentions were mine ; yet I saw plhily, that he found In her a con panionship I'was ftir i from 'h4lng able to give, for I was onl a'darling playinmate, a beloved and-petted child. One evening Tnoted well -how biglit and animated he was, and the adiniriig look that kept deepening in ie eyes, andthe in creased interest of voice atd manner as the conversation progressed, until 'graduolly the hand I held begame unconsclbus. of mine, and, when I loosened nky hold, "SlippCd 4way ta extend itsel[ for groatei' emphasis towards her. And 'hen I xose, :'pale and hearksick to say good-night. "We have not-. had oyir- usual talk to night, BfdieV,'4said "No," I answered, taconically. - "It Is too lhtt now," looking it his watch. "Yes." ' "What Is the matter ?" asked my Aunt; ''Are you unwell I" "No," again. Then she laughed, low an~d melodiously. ''You had better go to bed, child." Child I Buddenly, and with a qumck, sharp pain, as If struck by lightning, I felt all that her words were intended to convey t.o him-to him, though not to mec-and as suddenly the child became a woman. "Walk down the avenue with me, once -only once, Elwyn," I said ; my head aches." With his old caressing touch, he adjusted my shawl ; then hesitated a 'momeont, and said, half reluctantly, "Will youi Shall I ?", I kneow what it meant, and turned with all the dignity I could assume. "Aunt Eleanor, if you wish to come too, you may," "I may, may I ?" she answered, pettisht ly. "Thanks. But if it's all the same to you, I p~refer not." "2Eiwyn, " I said, wheniv e were out of her hearing-for I felt that I must mention the subject or die, almost.-"Elwyn, my aunt has been here more than a nionth nqw howv do you like her ?" "Bhie is charming," Ito said, honestly; "charmmng."~ ."Ah," I sai; "so they all say soonel'or later." "'lThey ?" lie asked ; "who are they ?" "Men." lie laughed and drew my arm thr-ough his, and we finished the walk in silence. Thlen, when We had reaocd the front door, and I hold uip my lips for. tltO usual kiss, lhe said, "She Is vex'y chiarin, but my baby is worth ten of her." "Oh I" I sobbed, throwing myself Into his arms, and clinging to him with passion.. ate pain and sorrow, "do not say so, I atn a woman now-a woman, lwynj do 'not call me that any miore." - "Well, I will net If it ha~rtA'you." And he took my fade bettycee his hiahds, *andl bemit over iii6 with bilown bright dalile. --But breaking'from'hlini,' I ran~ upstairs, and shut myself in my room. Whiat copl~IlI'o?, Nothing. I felt that lie was deli, hourly, being drawn away fromt me, an'd tiny:Weoak power could a vail nothing- against the v'noy-e 'enbtle 'will of tht older abd- fa- puper10r Womnai of theO world. My mother-, ab but not event e ol went on. tIt One afterpop, i .the' early -pautumn, I went down to' the0 hohir~iv6 sitting list less nd ~die, thotilh wearly,9tls *qilieter as they approeled'Aud ,a y a ed themselved on the other side of th a hiotse from Where I sat anid kept. sileno, -A few momenta and -her oee~ $rpC e ' I knWb's~e tr but lie said nothing. I stifled my now loud gasps and leaned forward to hear more. "Elwyn ?" And now the one was changed. It was as if the words were forced, wrung from her. ''Havo pity-I love you." "Gracious heaven i" I knew he had started to his feet. "You tell me this? You I" "I do l" she answered, tremulously; "anld nioro-,you love me !" I heard lilin groan, and knew by instinct that his hands were stretched towards her as though to defend her from her own words. 'You love iie, " she continued, more calmly, "and I love you. I have waited for you to speak, but you would not ; so I have (10110 it. You may imagine, if you will, what it costs a woman to make such a confession unsolicited. Do you blamle me, ilwyn ?" "Blamei" he said, "niiy beautiful I my dearest I And yet-Oh, the traitor the miserable traitor you have made of me, Eleanor I" "It is because I love you. Forgive ie, if too well, Elwyn." "'Shae loves me," he said. "That child?" she answered, with a tQuch of sarcasm. "11r heart is too young fot- any deep impression. Oh, Elwyn, what is her love to mine I She is a pretty toy, a plaything. Will you weigh her in the balance against me ?" "Eleanor,' he pleaded, "have mercy I Take my life as you have my love but leave mic at least, a little self-respect. We are strong in our love, and can bear more than she can. Do not be cruel in your power." "What do you want to do ?" she asked. "To be true to her," lie said bitterly, yet, oh, how-grimly I "I wish her never to know that it is to a traitor her pure faith has been given. For I will marry her and and cherish her as though you and I had never met. So help mi6 heaven I" "And what h, to become of me ?"1 "I1lave mercy I Why did you ever come between us ?" "You say you love me. I ask, what is to become of me ? You say you love mc, Eiwyn ?" "Alh, better than my own truth and lionor I" Oh, how changed and broken his voice sounded I 1 waited to hear no more. My resolve was taken. His pride was humbled to the dlust-trampled beneath the feet of his great passion. He should never knowingly make me witness his humiliation. This much I could and would do for him. That evening I asked him to walk down Lhe avenue with me, for the last time, and then I said, Elwyn, this must end between us. I will not marry you." It was a strange start lie gave-a strange look, almost of joy, that flashed over his Face, only to be gone again. And then I vained strength to tell the falsehood, that was to set. him free. "I do not love you, Elwyn." It is needless to repeat his hurried words ,f question and confused remonstrance. But I saw that lie believed my love was -One from him, and therein I could be ,hankful. A short month, and they were married. I never saw them again. But long after they told me lie was dead, m(d that she was about to we( another imaband, and they gave me1 the little packet >f hair that lie laid addressed with his own liand to hIls."First and latest love." Ills first and latest, forever. Skulls of Murderrs. One of the most curious collections in he great Anthropological museum in the Paris exhibition of last year was a collec ,lon of thirty-six skulls of murderers who hlave been guillotined In France. This .ollection has been carefully studied by Dr. Bornier, who has published the result of lis studies in the last number of Broca's levue d'Anthropologie. The mist str'ik ing result of his observations is the very large cubic capacity o)f these cranlia. In1 Fact, tihe average volunie of the thirty-six ikulls, nmeasured with shlot by ~Broca's inethod, Is as munch as 1,547.91 cubIc con timleters. Eliminating, hlowever, one of Ikulls,. which Is of unusutal size (2,670 aubic centhneters) andl Is obviously abnor ial, the average is reduced to 1,531 cubic senieters, But even this figure Is eon siderably higher than the average of any rdinary series of modern crania. In ordierI to find skulls of equlal capacity it is nieces gary to go back to prehlistoric times; thus die capacity of Solutre skulls is 1,515, and dint of the typ~o from the cave of M'H~om le Mort is 1,606.5 cubIc centimetres. Thle :levelopment of tihe murderers' skull is not ln the frontal bt4 in the parieto-occIp~ital region, ad it appears to Iidicate a low in tellectual standard, with a strong tendency to powerful action. Most of the celebrated characteristles presented by the skuhs of these crliminals are compar'able with those f prehistoric races. A murderer may be regarded as an anachronism, and lis char icter may be explained on the principle of itavlsm, or reversion to an early type. if a prehlstoric savage could be Introduced into modern society lie would probably be some a notorious criminal; on the other liand, If 01ne of the brutal nmurdlerers of iupderni times had lived in prehistoric ages lio might have been a chief of lis tribe,. liighly respected. .Cat and Looking-lss. Many years ago, at Carne farm house, where relatives of mine wvere then living, he household eat was observed to enter a bedroom in course of being apring-cleaned. rihe looking glass being on the floor, the Dat, on entering, was confronted with its own reflection, and nlaturalhy concluded that he saw before him a real intruder on le detfain. Hostile demonstrations were die result, followed by a rush to the mIrror sud then, nieeting an obstacle to lia von goakce, 4fruitless out rounad to the rear. 1'lus mandmvre was more than onCe re-1 peated with, of course, e Iual lack of sue s.Finally, the eat was soon~ to doliber rstely wtulk upto the looking glass, keeping its eyes'en thie.Image, and tlien,'wheni near enough to.the edge, to 'fool carefully with one pirw behuind, for the *tupposed intruder, while with its head twisted: round to the traht it tssur-ed. itself of: thi persitence of t4q 1r9t14tion. .Therieult io.f Ibtis experh me If(Iuly sane'th cdt(that 1'e had 1 b nu the 1#i1th of ea dolusqin,'and neverJ heocondeocou to notiq itere he wd to4~rhab Swell Thieves i Summer. "Tell litc somletlnhig abliot tile habits o swell thieves in suminer time?" said a re porter to a detective. "They devole tle sumilier to recreative and 'prospective' work-that is, studying the bearings and acquainting themselves Witi tihe resources of tile places V which t (hey propose to attack wien a favorable oppor tunity presetints itself. They seldom Mtop long in One place. Tiey caln be imet, one day at Saratoga anmd the ne-xt at Newport, Long Branelh, 'ipe May, o. doing tlie Calnadian tour, all the time having their eye to bisiness nse1111( n)Cidiig their leisure mionients in tihe gmktllling dens. "The sw.ll pickpockets migrate with consistent regularity at tihle approach of Summer to like wttering-places, put up iat the most fashionable ko'els and carry on1 business as opportunity affords. The swell pickpocket seldom gets caugat. lie generally travels with at comlpallionk to Whom I lIet passes whatever ie satutcies, and should I I the linger of suspicion be pointed at him hie i ilssumkes anl air of virtuotis innocence and I Wounded dignity'which is amising to be ilold, and offers, it may be in the most 1 p)lausible manner possible, to 'showi up' if uccessary. Even if Ie is searched nothing I is found onl him, and unless hke is really 4 oaught in the act he cannot be ield. The 1 light-fingered gentry are always inl swarms I it, horse races, fairs, convent ions and caip- t mneetiings, and indeed wherever there is a I Jig crowd. They ply their trade with a t persistency and And an energy worthy of a hetter cause." "What do they do with their spoils?" "All. property besides cash which they 1 inatage to Ir.y their (ands onl they send( to h1e city, Where agents receive it and con1- t vert it into cash the best way they can. l'ie hotel and boalrding-house thieves who f nake their headquarters in the city are the lread of every watering-place in the sum ner. They live in grand style, drink tiei nost expensive wines, simioke the most ex- J cilsive cigars and drive in the gayest I xvtilable coacies. Groups of them may be t men nightly in tie corridors of tile Saratoga 8 otCls. They are eaily recognized, but C lot so easily gotten rid of. Their restless N nanner gives them away, but the hotel de- N ectives as long as they have nothing against 11 ,hem2:1 and they have no certainty beyond t ippearances they are crooked, and cannot , ery safely interfere with them. They are r matched. The detective forces at the ho- 1: els in watering-places have to be reinforced t u sumnier to watch these guests, and a V )'etty hard tiia they have of it. In a ilday i he thieves find out all about the guests, I low much money or jewelry they are v ikely to have in their rooms, and when 11 hey go to their meals they invade their -- kparttneats and carry away whatever of c ralue they can lay their hands o1. The a )anco, faro or three-card-nionte mn11( spend r heir summer traveling on tie cars trying a o 'rope in' countrymen. They reap a il ich harvest, for the countryman is the eas- It cat being in the world to impose upon, r ['1i sileak-tlhleves reinaltin lin 00 city during v he summer and so do the low class of burg- c are, looking lor a favorable opportunity to -1 ;et. into a vacankt house. c 'Your swell thief is generally all edu- c ated, well-dressed, respectable-looking, I igh-toned 'gentleiant.' lie lives well, i1 peUds money lavisiy when h1(e has it and J ndustriously cultivates the friendship-of n ie wealthy and reflued. His demeanor is io pleasing, his outwtard code of i-rtals so g Lppareutly strict, and tie dealing with his s" ellow-men When it'suits hun so seemingly o itraight-forward that to the uninitiated he t, ippears t j be the very paragon of honesty Ii nd the eibodiient of all that is noble 3 md virtuous in manhood. That class of u hieves are the most dangerous in the coml- 1 uunity. They ire hardest to detect in the i lct, of committing i crioi and their tracks o ire so skilfully covercd that after perpetra- U ion of crime it is diflicult either to catch il hietm or to trace any13 of the stolen p)roperty. i 1 t'he swvell thieves live in style duing the r v'inter, dlomlg ani occai~onall job as8 their no(- d1 essities require. In thle Summlner they go h 0 1.11e watterinlg places-everywhere In fact s vhcere thkere is a probability of there being a p rowd. TIhe(y imay be clalsiiled as follows: p lurgiars,pJickpocke2ts, conlfidlence-operators, t. lanco-steerers, fare and1( thirce-card-mnonte n1 nenl, 110te1 and( boardIng-house thieves and a neaik-thlieves. n1 "Nearly all the first-class burglairs belong a o the 'swell' class. Educationi is nleces- il ary to make a raily good, reliable, level 1(211ded( and( effective bur1glair. Take thle nost famous burglars no0w in1 pison50 and~ at argo in thkis counltry-the Hopes, Brady, )obbs, Leary, Irving and~ Porter, for inl- n ltance. They tire all men of brains, who s vouild have probably succeedled at any 5 rade or profession they miigh~t hatve chosen, il ['hey are regarded as first-class 1men1 by thle J hlieving fraternity ; they are cool, dlaring hI aid merciless wvhien anty 0110 crosses their v >ath wilie they are craicking a banik safe or >hmidering a house. Ill the sumnmer tlimo 11 he swell burglars cease from active labor. r ['he darkness of night Is an essential ele- C nent of 8success ill their professionl. Itlls f huring the long, dark witer nIghts that li hey p~rowl about with all their vIgor. and 1 nisguided enthusliasm, anid un~der cover of I light commit their dlepredations. 1 A Mtulaeter Rtoughil.v Hlandledl. A local preachler had been p~reaching in t he afternoon in a village not far from i Mewcastle, England, and having accom-t anled one of the chapel miemfbers to his a 10ouse, was of course initrodulccd to his 3 A'ife, whko appeared very glad to see him, r md1( warmly prcssedl himn for a full quarter. t f ani hour to stay to tea. Hie at last con- t icnted. While all this pressing was going 5 >ni, tihe husband was quietly standing by, 0 >reparlig to wash his hands and faee. The t good lady then1 wet to get the tea ready, 1 lnd it was not long before both the tea and 11 ier temper were brewing ; for hearing, asb ho thought, her dearly beloved washing, 5 ho made for the little window whkich corn- 1 nunicated betwecen the kitchen and pantry a vhere she wast, and taking advantage of his n )osition, more quickly than one could say I "Jack Robinson," uhie administered two or C hreo hard raps on his bald pate, accompan.. a ed with the exclamation "I'll learni ye to R >ring them hlungry prec5hiers hero to tea P tvery time they comoe to pteachi I" - AB Aeon as tile. unfortunate individual 1 sould get the soap-suds out of his eyes hle a began to think what it all mneant, but could t 16mo to no other concluslon than that the C >kA lady lhad made 'a sad- niistake tvhiih t fre also found out, for upon returning to C he parlor, she saw .hel' husband patiently ' lwaiting hsturn to wash. e, ' 'A hopeless person Is one who desert a )ts1 a Pietures ofr mh ProsiletP1s. llealy's portraits of the Presi( its of the Lniled States, recent ly added to tle Cor oran Art Uallery, are mainly ti e stiesli(s romi which, about thirty years a o, lie ex cited i conuission from LoviM) I'hiilippe, len King of the Frenelh. 'l'e of the !arlier Presidents are copies fram Stiart n1d11 liardiig, Ilh others are from life. 'hey were purchased of the ,artist by 'hioias I. Bryan, Esti , together with the )ortraits of Taylor, F'illhnore, ierce, ]Itu hann ad Lineolin, painiteli Sincev the Vrenchi royal order, aind sold )y hiin to the rallery. They are of variouls degres of ierit ;one or t wo are quite bad, ia grater umiier 11(ilereitly goo(d, amd a few real ' excellent. 1i.roi some tiiexpliailed muse the portrait of' (Generil l,larrison is l)t embraced lin the collectIon. 'The direc >rs Irei anixious to supply the onunission, Ind two have already been forwarded them or inspection, with a view to their sale, mut neither proved satisfactory. The bet er of these camie from Louisville, ard is lie property of Mr. Oliver W. Licas, Clerk of the Board of Aldermen of thateity. It is )y Mr. John It. Johnston, forirly of Cin iniati, but iow of Baltimore, and wis ainted in 1840, about the time of the eICeral's election to the Pres(lency. It is tolerably correct likeness, but the colors re much faded, and it wias considerably, hough not irreparably, injured in its trans iortation hither. For these reasons and Iin Ie hope, of securing a less objectionable licture, its purchase was declinel. Mr. J. 1. Beard painted several portrits (if the -enerl, which must. still be in existenice ill good state of preservation. The portrait f Mr. Lincoln was painted In 18(10, during lie pendency of the Presidtntial election r immediately thereafter, undir an Order rom Mr. Bryan, then a citizen of Chicago. 'h1e face is unshaven, which gives it a tlier youthful look, without in the least, nproving his native homeliness. Mr. incoln was in the habit of explaining that . '"turned his beard loose" at tle sugges ion of a lady, whose knowledge of his per Dimal appearance was confined to newspaper its, which fairly made him an ogre. She rote to him that in her woman's judgment, iskers would add much to his beauty, id if lie could be persuaded lo cultivate hem sbe would kiss him the tirt time they ver met. The gallant rail-splitter at once estricted his tonsorial operations to the up er and nether lips, leaving them free for lie osculatory reward, and in a few weeks arnished his checks, chin a d throat with ( hirsute adornment, which uzzled Mrs, incoln and surprised lis equaintances tithout, as already inthua , eilianicmg is personal pulchritude. he necessary mclusioi to this "ower lie tale," it ianced that he and the unkn wn lady met, id the promised reward 'was'elaiml ed and -ceived. Ile was never Vclean-shaved tierward. Tlie next ugliest of the Presi ents (counting Jefferson as "good-third") Zachary Taylor. His portrait somewhat, flnes the plain features of tbe rough and 'eather-beaten old sohllm. bnit h very >rrectly represents hitu "as lie lived." [is eye, which was black, keen and pier ng, greatly relieved his commonplace I untcnance, and it fairly glows IromI lealy's canvas. Probably the most strik ig picture In the lot is that of General iekson, who, too, in spite of his long life, ever grew to be a "'marvelous proper man, " though his appearance was very distiln nlshed. Ile sat for Mr. Iealy in the riig of 1041, and the picture was filished ily nime days before his deaitl. Thie pic ire is in marked contrast with the full ngth portrai, of the General painted by| r anderlyn in 1819, which hangs in the lain gallery. The latter represents him In niform, but bare-headed, standing beside cannon, sword in hand, with the smoke f battle filling the background, and its laze flaming from his eyes and illuminat ig his face with martial glory. Healy's strippedf of all this glamour, and affords aunful evidence of age and iuifirmity, of isense anud suffering ; but thle wonderful adi~ still bears its leonine aspect, while (lie :el-blue eyes, undimmed by time or ap) lication, retain their former marvelous ,wer, and seem to look dlirectly through ie holder. A Quplicate of this pictumre; ay be seen at the Hermitage, the po0se Is ightly altered, and the egfect rendered iore agreeable and implressive. Yet It Is d to look upon, and one at last turns from with a sigh of relief. Trho Harvest in Runssia. A field stretchmng away for nilles and illes without a hedge, ditchi or l umndary :>ne to relieve the sight offered by what ~oms to be a very ocean of waving corn migedl with red by millionis of poppics. A ow Is surveying this glorious crof amid as e does so lhe turns tg sniff thb breeze hichi is blowing gently from tl Black en, about thirty versts off ; thuen hec lets Is eye wandler complacently dow nI a steel) -ad up which a long p~rocession of empty arts is tolling. Th'Ie Jew Is a utorchant 'om Qdcssa, wvho bought the crops before mn as far back as three years ago from a obleman in dlilculties, and lie is pleased the sIght of those carte, beckuse lie nows now that lie will be able to get his heat comfortably to Odessa before the elptemnber rains set In. TIhe difficulty in outhiern Russia Is not to rear wheat, but get it shipped ; so when the aged Ben-I Lidae was haggling with Prince Nokino, e straitoned nobleman above-mentioned, out the purehase of his harvests for three oars, lie took care to mention that It would qmire more than a hundred carts to carry .u wheat to Odessa, and thatt after thant iero mIght b)0 some1 trouble abiout getting ' barn in whiich to store the wheat until t I -id be shipped. In fact, lie described i ue purchase of the corn as quite a gatr1- I1 hing speculation : atid so It ofteni is.- But I ,otto dealers like Benjudas. H~e never uys am) acre of corn without being quIto 4 ire about his carte, his bairn, his shIp, and I is reapors; for, behold I even as heo stanidsa rveyin~g that noble field at five In the' xorning, on a promiseing August day, a11 undred or so of Prmnce Nokin's tenants =nme slouchIng out of their cottages with iI ~ythose anti sickles, while a mnore distant rouip, comIng from the' Barine's castle, ap ar pushing before them a grand steam owing machIne. Prince Noklno, like all husslan landholders, Invests largely i' :ricultumral machinery, as a c'hiild would I i ya lf he had the -money ;. and it wasp CBnaj udas's contract that lie shbuld have! o Prince's mach~inc at his disposalf 1tt' no of the Rlusslaui pbaantb can world hern ut Beonjudas has brought with himnj ~uple of sha~ Ge*rmniA ship-stokers, hi 30Wow 0,t o Gvrything piore or -O$,I i4fho egon lght tlhe ire under the ongo nd eo- the mnower enorliai, mnovingad cutting. Presently this big imaclhine is strewin.g the corn aroind it as easiiy and gracefully 1as at shil)'s iel slices the sea and las it olit In foami ; and the Muscovite peasalts, marvelling at the spectacle, rest idly onl their scythes and ultter exchimition4s of elight. But BlenjdIs lifts both his hands indignantly an11d calls on theimi to do their duty: "1 ou Izy swine, do you think it's for this I give you each your len ko pecks a day? There'll be no kwass for you by 2an1d1 by if you1 don't bestir yourselves.'' Now kwass is a very small beer which tile liussian peIasnIts love. Prince Nokine's telant's set to with i will, and soon there are n1 81o suunts heard but I heir toilsome gasps mingnlilg With the swishiig noise of their blades as they sweep through tle Corn1 ill vigolou1s seiliciieles. Evenl woilen and childrein aire it work with sickles; and its faiut ats sheaves (tinl be iatle i) little lind" of tottering boys and girls carry them to the carts, where some sturdy louts pack them down tight till each cart holds at pyr aimid, which is covered with a tarpaulin. Then the earls set off, and old Bllenjudals, who has becil surveying all the operations, retirns to the field inwardly ekuckling bult outwardly morose. lie never shows his laborers that lie is pleased with them, else they might be asking for more kwass. Of this liquor each reaper gets as much as can make hin glad, but no more ; and Benju iais, as he prowls aibout, n1otes every skulk iir who, after doing less than his share of work, would like to secure more than his illowance of bovernge: "Now, then, you hog, he off a few more of yor sort would ruin me. I shan't employ you to-morrow.'" I'hese are the benisons whiich Benjudas catters about. him its lie stands in the ha'ldow of a roadside ilr tree, carefully )rotecting his venerable head from the sun's Advice to a Iatnki1. A seedy 1i1dividuil, rural In his general ippearance and make-up, strolled into tile l'hird National bank, C(iucinati during misiness hoursand observing Fab. Lawson, leceiving teller, counting a package of noney, nodded pleasantly, and said, "Still I handin' of it out ?" 'Yes, '' replied Lawson, "still crowding t on the people." "Ain't yoi a lectle too handy here?" 'ontinued the stranger. "-low so?" said Fab. ''Why, strangers passin' 'long oil the idewalk and seein' four sign so conspicu )us like, must be runnin' in cvcry few min tes to borrow money." "So they do," retirned Lawson. "Ain't it. a good deal of bother waitin' on em? , Must take upl) a good deal of your ,ilme.1 "Yes, it is som1e bother, that's a fiet, >ut we like to accommodate everybody, (ou know. Can't, trn away a stranger jist because we ain't acquainied with 1im."11 ''Lose some, I suppose " interrogated ,le stranger. "Oh, yes." "Folkl drop in and get what 1m1one1y they -vant and then forget all about it. Or per )inps they senId it in a letter and misdirect t. Awful careless, some people ire about )orrowing money," said the man. "Awfuil careless.'' "Owin' a good deal to keepin' yoir bank lose on the sidewalk. Folks goin' by look Ip alid see you cointin' iloley, an2d thenl hey suddenly recollect they hain't got juiite elloligh to see 'enm through, ItaId so ite natturally, they steps in and11 borrows loie of you. You can't very well refuse ite to hirt their feelin's, and so they git tway with you1. Some 1me0an1 folks in this vorld. Now, I wouldn't do it." "No, you wouldn't do it." "No, sir-ec. I never borrowed a cent of 1o bank that I didn't pay." "I'll .bet you didn't," slid Lawson, witi "'Nowv if I wats rinili' a ban11k like y'ou Ire conitiinued the, str'anger. I'dl keep it )ick in an1 alley' wllere there wasn't so many2 trangers passin'. "'wouldn't make no dlif erence wilth me), 'cause5 1 kniow how banks re pesteredl. I never' bothers 'emi. 'T'ain't rLy style. 1 could( walk rIght pa2st a mille m1 '011 and( necver even look in the winider. hut everybody aIn't that wvay. What, teni :ents 1" "Yes," sid Fab, "'that's all I can let rou haive to-day. You see there have been 10 manliy stranigers In ahleadl of you this norning that our funds are rulmiing low. i'a-ta. Doni't trouble yourse8.lf to send( It >ack in a letter. Wheir the bank wants It lhe bank wvill niotify you." T1he stranger thanked, him, and( agaIn irging upon011him1 the expecdicey of nmoving lie baink on to some1 back street or ailley, so is not to attract the attentioni of paissIng traungers so readily, the seedy mani took 118s(depairture. Ho0w Eels are Caught, Many pers5ons who cross the upper ferry, n thie Iludson, may have noticed rows of mall wvoodlen boxes, about the ese of aui urdinary soap box, placcd a few yards ipart. These boxes have covers on top,. ud wire screens on1 the bottom to admit resh water. These contaIn small ccls vhichi, at this season of the year, are aught by thousands near the State dam In lie following mannier: The agent of the ish commissIoner proceeds to some small >utlet or mill-tall at ebb tide or slack water mnd with a small screen, similar to those ised for sifting flour, which lhe dips Into lie eddles, somietimes gathlering as many as thousand at a dip. It is nothIng unusual o gather a-half million at one fishing. Yhien caught they are placed in these boxes nl running water, ntil enou 'h are accumn ilated to make a shiipment. They are then ulaced In ordInary milk c* which con ain about two Inches of soit sewer mud vlth a packing swail of marsh grass, newly ut, upon which the eels arc placed to work helr way gradually to the bottom. Then. nothier laycr of grass is placed on thIs. L'he whole is covered wIth a small pIece of cc to regulate the temperature, andt then bey are readly for transportatIon. At the >rcsent tIme they eure being shipped to dilchilgan tinder (lie supervision of Orin M. Jhaso, who for the past six years has bee' onnected with the State Fish Commission ir, SeIth Green, and1 hias had entIre. control ~ecatching anid shIpping 9f ,hesp am neonse nutnbers of. small cels, Y et there coimsto be noe decrease .as . ag~h desson1 rinlgs its anillonseto or wtiter . Felp are aid to depeelt thitf spawn In th, samne menner as 4ther fishi and, acc9rdip to the ekt authoritikb, vho.haves of atyears agefetlly .litestigated the mater tlf41:r pawn is deposited hi the 'nuid in the vinter and hIcubated by the, worin tepte inur of the 4ltr hnafaW)3 The .Jovid .Judge, T proelivi y to joking in courts of law is a htomtiage paid to a deep iuminui instinct. l'eople like justice best when it tinbeInds a litLe, and injistlee itself may be softened by ingeitious judges who concillate the loser wvithi irresisti ble jest. Eveii among a grave 1)eole) like tihe Turks, this love of humor often overpowers comiplaltit. 'ihre is a story in the East of a 'asha wN ho had receiv ed a present ol two fat ge!ese. 'lFhese sueculent birds were very searce at the time, and thEo great man called a feast of his intiniates, where roast goose, stulled with plistachios, was to form the central dish. But a rival magnate, Who greatly wante goose for dinner, had oifred the cook 500 plastres for a bird, whereupon ithe too venal oileor repaired to the Cadi, and said: I'If I give your worship a goose, Ivill you see ie safe supposing anyho]ly complains about the other one'?" The magistrate winked and took his bird-the other also disap poared-and at the banquet, whon the eagerly expected dish should have been produced, there was an awful d 1isap pointment. The cook being summoned protested with many protestations that the geese had "11lown away.'" "Recov or them," the infuriated Pasha cried, "'or I will have thee before our Cadi for the basti.nado.,1' 'Tie guilty cook rushed imadly along the high road, wondering What to do, when he was asked by a donkey driver, "In the name of Allah,"1 to help him to lift his beast, which had fallen. Ile forthwith pulled at the donkey's tall with such thought less fury that it came off in his hand, and the cook then rushed on more Iran ticailly than ever, pursued by the Cries and curses of the driver. A little fur ther ho ran in his blundering haste against a Christian, and knocked the man's pipe-stick Into his eye, destroy ing it. Yet a little further, still wildly hurrying, lie caine round the corner full-tilt upon a very ugly Bulgarian matron, who, being in an interesting condition, was so upset that she then and there suffered damage. Being chased by the husband and some Zap tiehs, the miserable man ran up the steps of a minaret, and when the muez zin would have seized him leaped down to the earth in his desperation, from the first platform, killing a Greek who chanced to be sitting with his brother below. Such a situation as that pro sented In the above narrative, it must be confessed, was embarrassing, even to the humor and resources of a Tur kish Judge. To the original sin of the goose were now added four separate misdemeanors, and the spectacle pre sented shortly afterward before the Cadi was one of terrifl hubbub; though the prisoner exhibited a strange confI dence. whieh proved not imfounded. Firt Canme the Pasia, who told how the Sinful cook had pretended that, geese, lIlucked and drawn, could 11y away. "DoSt thou, then, doubt, broth or,'' said the Judge, "'tie power of Al lah to call the dead to life? Let us not, limit the divine might by our foolish misbelief-it may have been so! Go in peace." Next, the donkey-man held up the reft tall of his boast, and cried for justice; but the Cadl said, "Give him the donkey, my son, to feed and use until the talli has grrown agan a; thea Iho shalh reatore it, to thee.'' 'The Christian followed, Pointed to tihe mtis slug orb, and clamored for p~iuinent. "It, is written," sid the .ludge, "that One eye to a behiver equals two of an infidel. D~o thou, therefore suflfer me to pult out thine other eye, and then it wvill be lbut right that I should oirder restitution, by removing one from this abominable cook." The Christian de p~artedl, and was succeeded by thnt in itured husband, who told his woes. "lBy lthe Prop~het's beard," quoth . the Cadi, "1 see 1no way in this, save that thou shouildst divorce the lady, and marry her to the cook. A fter ward, if it be heaven's will that sihe come again unto the same state, lot him send her back to thee, and all will be weoll." TIhis suitor also deciined to p~roceed to exeu tion, and there was ontly loft tihe Greek, who vociferated for retaliation on the slayer of his brother. "Inshallah 1" said the Juidge, truly 'hurry is the de vil,' as the wvise say; the cook shall suffer for it; tis is but lust. Got ihoui, therefore, to tihe top) of the min aret, and jump down on the offender whom I wvill place below, and it shall be that if thou slayest him none shal complain." Hlereuipon the Greek also left the court like 7,then others, amid acellmnations front tihe bystanders, who were loud in the praise of the Cadi's wonderful derees; biut that function try was presently heard to whisper to the cook, as ho quitted the court, "Never you send me any more geose, my friend." Loat Children. A mother one clay lost one of her child ron, a child of two years, and after a long anxious search found him in the kitch cu closet, in a huge. iron pot, fast asleep. Lbe had b~een left in charge of a servent, who had fulfilled her duties by taking the child to the kitchen and then going off to gossip. A Mrs. D- of .Barrington, af ter a similar experien~ce, found her missing chil~d in a bread-trough, sweetly sleepig ori the dough. Tihe trough was a *very large. ao, .used for n~ixing bretad for tJlee.ship yard men,'and when full of doujti tsual ly stood on a low settee near to flr%3 that the bread milght 'rise the ,~1~~ "Wis Ohild ' dlurin 'the alipo:of~I l r ithe ,"tpn repids tndjede~o,h mse coal theocaso ofaldywho l$Lor"'b, after dlsturbink~h bivhole community afid oi-yinghetsdif 1ietrifblidifoidmd bab Mfd In the cfadto, with cloth ds ieapt ed la3 Iiodory abuuinta~s to ha9 ded pwo ImoV, aiith,patience-the iro esseii tials to a happy lire. Ituian IlIfe is everywhere ;l state in wiiiclh much Is to be endured. To possess the gift of helpfulness is to b- the mortgage of' all who need. Every child walks into existence through the goldmi gate of lave. People iust discuss soiethiig--It Is tie great preventive of Insanity. When one's fieart is full, one il not alit to drop a plummet line into it. Great souls hold ilrmly to heaven and let the earth roll on beneath theimi. how ats tihe grave is, only faith can elina b high enough to see beyond it. It is not life to live for one's self alone. Lemt us help olne an11ohe10r. Lot, your word be your bond. Good credit is a fortune to bogin with. Peace is 8uch a precious J9wel, that I would give anything for it but truth. Act well at, the moment, and you have performed a good deed to ill eternity. Death 18 the funeral of all sorrows and evils, and the resurrectldu of all Joys. Where one is fugged, hungry, and depressed, the worst seems most proba ble. If you have good health you have lilne-tenths of all the Lord ever gives to ally m1an1. Ile who has created us with a thirst after knowledge will certainly satisfy that thirst. Certain sermoum are more calculated to weaken faith than to render men be. llovers. Hen show their character in notlhin more clearly than by what they thin laughable. The grandest of herole deeds are those which are performed within four walls and In domestic privacy. Ile that does a base thing in zeal for his friend, burns tile golden thread that ties their hearts together. They who respect themselves will be ionored; but they who do'not care for character will be despised. Be alweys on your guard against the devices of wicked men, when you hap poln to come In contact with them. Some people have softening of the brain, but the world suffer's more from those who have hardening of the heart. How great one's virtues best appears by occasionms of ad verslty ; for owcasions do not imake1 a man frail, but show what he Is. Ro wland 11111 said, when he onice saw a boy on a rocking horse' "Like some Christians ; motion enough, but n1o pro gress. Hard words are like hallstones in sililer, beating down and destroying what, it' imelted into drops, they would notrisli. Those who disbelievd In virtue be cause manI has never been. found per feet, Illiglit as reasonably deny the sun, because It is not always 11001 . It Is not uitil tile flower has fallen ow that tie truilt bdgins to ripen. So in life it is whenl tae 1liail1(3 s- past that the practical useful begins. The business of lite is to go forward le who seeks evil iII Prospect illeets it oil the way ; but Ie who catches it by retrospection, turns back to lind it. Gu0I demands all account of the past, and that we must render hereafter; Ile demaids ani improvement of the pre e11', iiid thl8 wo mst attend to now, Tihe ordinary employnent of artiileo is the mark of a petty mind; at d it al ways happens tht he who 1=8su it to cover hinself in one place Uncovers himself lin another. So far 18 It from being true thart men~i arie naturally equail, thalt nlo two people ennl be hlfll hour together bjat onie 811al1 acqluire aii evident superliority over the other. Tiime goes at its own 'gait, and you cannllot hasiteni it by uing1 thle "5pur of' tle lmomen~it..'' 'ou gnlay a4k your friend to "'stop) a minute,"' but neithier you nior lie has the power to'do it. Speak wvell of the absenlt avhenever you have a suitable olportuinity. Never speak ill of tlhem or of anlybody, unless you are sure thley desorvo It, andunless It is necessary for thleIr almenlduntnt, or for the safety and benefltoof othe~rs. Hie who climbs above the caret of the world and turns his face to his God has foiundt the funny si(Ie of lih. The world's side of tile hill1 Is 'eidl and freezing to a spiritual mind, but the Lord's presence gives a warmth-of joy wvhieiu turns winter into suomer. To live with our enemies .asif they rnight 0110 day be otur - rinss to be wvithi our friends aus if thgey nht be some our enemies, is neithi1a rding to the natulre of hlatred, nor i raceor lance with the rules of friendshiip. It is not a morale but really; a political inaxim.. Thell manl who has an emptycidp may pray, and should pray that it blay be hiled; but he who has a full eup~ought to pray that he may'hold it fIrmly. It seeds prayer In prosperity that we may hlave grace to use it, as truly as it needs, prayer in poverty that we may~ have grace to bear it. Don't live in hope with your arms Colded. F ortunle smiles oh thibse whoc roll up their sleeves anld put their ihioulder to tile wheel that propels them >n to wvealth and happiness. OVut this. ut and carry it about with you in your vest pocket, ye whlo idiQ ini bar.erooms r at the corner of -the streets. A man of genius has alwayA some p~articullar reason for adventurin* tdpn i certain work; lhe does otit4~alc lb ect by haphazard, but is 14dy04t Is ~enerall' by circumstalics'owalek ie has no control, invariabigby diroumn utances which requIre to be miadeknown o the reader before 110 9all tAh##I ~omprehiend and enjy tl e rn dqi*~ ion. ' Character alddi6 fsM 1m *i 'r vbat we have, but wh#64'we 9t s ehrito11r ofr .* ~~ A 4 hii sitpr4~.' nfiulto will b&