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VOL. XIX.
NO. 289
I’KEFACE TO A SCRAP BOOK.
scrap book; rend it rightly
broad bounds of this
The world is
vou'll sec
Thai between the
groat mystery—
This great hook of life, that begins with
life's morning.
And ends too with life, in eternity’s dawn-
1113
nuts mingled and mixed, like the frag
ments oft seen
jn lesser collections (common scrap books, I
mean)—•
A varied and strange combination. There
you llnd—
I! seems to be chance, but it may be design
ed—
Prose and verse, verse and prose ;—unstud
ied, unplann’d
seems the heterogeneous arrangement, the
hand
Ibis employed, that lias Ailed the blank
pages
With the
find song of glee, or the wisdom
of sages.
The pieces arc varied in length, subject,
worth;—
Here’s a bright little gem, like a spirit of
mirth;
There, a requiem sad, yet its sweet geutic
dirge
Tells of those we shall meet, when wc cross
t lie dark surge.
Here, a quaint II t lie episode;—1some striking
story
Next tills the blank space, tel’ing briefly the
glory
Of some noble spirit, who stood face to face
With the demons of darkness, and gave to
Ids race
The best boon e're given—his blood and liis
life—
As lie went to his rest from the smoke and
the strife.
lint’t is needless to say any more—or to try:
Jiu
For the very name “scrap book’’ wou
seem to imply
Its own miscellaneous nature;—hence I’ll
dismiss
J11 a very few words what it tells here, of
bliss:
There, of sorrow;—here, of Joy ; there, dis-
pair—by the side
Of some love-song—solo trace of a sigh, that
died
On the still lips that hr eat lied it—may stand
rds "
burning words from the forum that thrilled
thro’ the land.
And its populous cities, its woods and its
delis
Sent ♦ yeir legions to battles, where history
dwells.
Here, is humor; tlieere, pathos;—here, wit;
and there, weeping;—
Here, darkness; there, light—strange fel
lowship keeping;—
Here, stories of laughter—wc smile as we
read ;—
There, stories of sacrifice—honor the deed !
Here, putient endurance, toil, anguish and
death—
There, the song of Zephyr, that heals with
its breath :
All mingling together, and bound in one
book ;—
Seek the record oflife, for the likeness to
look.
angel
The world is a scrap book ;—if an
should rove
O’rc its vast varied leaves, all the phases
above
Would be passed in review. You see this of
course
Since tlie scenes here recorded have all had
their source
I11 the scenes or the phantoms of life. But
t lie thought
Which the metaphor dwells on, is this : I
have sought
To point out the world in its strange catena
tions,
Its queer oppositions, its quaint correla
tions !—
One moment its poetry, again ’tis its prose
Holding away in the mind, from the first-
page to close
In the life both of nations and men;—one
day "n the rosy,
Ktliere. -egions of art, and again in the
pros,-,
Perplexing, dull details of work. On one
day the world
Some great achievement of peace greets with
Joy, and unfurl'd
On t lie next are the banners of war, and na
tion
’Gainst nation is turned. And so thro’ each
station.
As slowly but surelyroll destiny’s wheel;
The bright spirits press on the shadows’
dark heels;
And life meets with death In their long si
lent game;
So sorrow and joy ; so love and so bate;—
the same
Will continue,—while night follows day,
while war follows peace,
Till the angel of record flic mandate, “Sur
cease /”
Shall hear and obey evermore. Anuacalm,
sudden, deep.
Shall rest on the face of creation. All shall
sler
Till tin sentinels bright from their stations
on high—
Wlto for icons have watchod from their
star-heights—shall fly
Tlio' tlie mersureless regions of space, to
proclaim
Tlie limit oftime, and their song is tlie same,
"All isvell /”—“Time is ended /”—“The great
scroll is done,
And unrolled in the light of Ktcrnitg's sun .’’’
As their symphony echoes the universe
through.
It wakes the wide realm like a life-giving
dew ;
The sleepers rise raptured, forever set free,—
And a peace everlasting life's record shall
be.
For the Sunday Enquirer.
A Man Hater.
BY A LADY OF COLUMBUS.
“I saw such a curiosity to-day, Joe;
she’s taken a room at Mrs. Dean’s.
She is rather pretty, and I wonder at
her strange idea.”
Min sipped her coffee daintily, as if
she had explained everything fully,
instead of leaving me completely in
the dark as to the lady’s claim as a
curiosity. “Will you enlighten me a
trifle, Min ? I am not a mind-reader.”
“Oh! I thought I told you!”
throwing off her abstraction. “Well,
she’s a man hater!”
“Is it possible!”
“Yes, and why she hates the poor,
inoffensive creatures, puzzles me, and
I tunut find out.”
“Tlie reason is obvious,” I say de
cisively. “It is one of three things :
She has loved and been jilted—they
don’t propose—or, she is strong-mind
ed.”
“Yes, and all of us who love them
are .weak-minded. Complimentary
Joe!”
“No!” I hasten to disclaim, but
riie tiny wrinkle on my wife’s white
brow', tells me that she is puzzled—not
insulted. “She seems to be poor,
Mrs. Deane says, though she paid her
month’s rent in advance, and has a
silver cup. Now, if I only had an
excuse for calling! She might think
it idle curiosity if I were to go with
out one.”
•‘Which would be an unjust suspi
cion.”
“Now Joe, don’t be tiresome ; why
does she hate men?”
“There are a great many who bate
men, little wife: though it is incom
prehensible to you, who have made
victims of all you have ever known ;
hut some poor women have good
mounds for hating them, and I hope
your curiosity is so fortified. But I
must hurry—I’ve a long list of calls
this morning, and unless I break off
bom ;1 “little "fascinator,” there will
•■e some doctor haters.” I kiss Min’s
‘ed mouth and hasten 011 my rounds.
At several places I hear of the fe
male “curiosity,” for ours is a small
village where every event is known
an, l talked thread-bare — where all
deception as to age, means and char-
ai 'h'r, is an impossibility that none
mt the most rash, ha4 ever attempt-
So . the mystery of the little man
‘ is only a question of days—
10 urs under Mrs. Deanes’ espionage.
At supper, Min has a few more
.**>■ ^he was to do her own cook-
» on a tiny stove. She had bought
d * x,unt * °f butter, sugar, flour, coffee,
ed.
hater
and meat, and didn’t wear a bustle,
Min narrated these items with vivac
ity, but grew absent when I sug
gested that the great mystery had not
yet been touched.
“No, but it has been confirmed,
Instead of going to Mulen’s or Pette-
bone’s for her groceries, she went
across the tillage to Mrs. Baker’s
who buys lier stock by the dollar’s
worth. So, she won’t even trade with
men.”
“Wel^shcis right, there! I would
like to trade with Mrs. Baker, who is
a worthy woman, but you insist on
the others, who are growing rich,
called at Mrs. Baker’s to-day, to see
her little gill, who is down with
fever, and I think she is the only one
who did not speak of the stranger»
though I saw her leaving, after mak
ing the purchases you spoke of.”
“Don’t quarrel, and I’ll promise to
trade with Mrs. Baker ; but she will
have to enlarge her stock, to meet our
wants.”
“In that way, you encourage her,
Now set the lamp over here, and I’ll
finish the story I began last night.”
She bustled up, helped remove the
tea-things, made the hearth tidy and
in the soft glow of fire-light and
lamp-light, I saw Min’s sweet, fair
face lose its puzzled frown and beam
with keeu intelligence as she lost
herself in the words I read. She
looked as she did some months back
when I brought her a city-raised girl
from a doting grandfather and a legion
of male and female worshippers. Of
late, I had marked with some dis
quietude, a childish curiosity, that I
knew came only from the stagnation
of our village 'life—knew that only a
fixed purpose or object would detach
this climbing parasite of gossip, and
she would put it under her foot. At
the same time, I pretended to humor
the disease, knowing that gentle treat
ment is always best, so, when I laid
down tlie magazine after finishing the
story, I began the absorbing topic:
“And Min, she looks like a real
lady. Y ou forgot to ask me about her,
when I si»oke of having seen her. To
forget to ask questions, is not laid
down in Mrs. Deane’s tactics.”
“I thought tactics were war les
sons.”
“Isn’t gossip a genteel warfare?”
“Oh, no! Mrs. Deane’s isn’t a gos
sip; She’s always so pleasant.”
“That is what renders hpr pleasant
She is newsy. A good-hearted wo
man, I know, yet she lias many ene
mies, simply because she occasionally
looks into their business, and some
people don’t like it.”
“I don’t object. I think where
there is anything to conceal, there is
something wrong and ought to be re
vealed.”
“I see you have been studying her
tactics, though you skipped the first
rules.”
“Joe, you are growing crabbed and
disagreeable! I expect I shall become
a man-hater if youdon’t quit teasing,
When my friends speak of persons or
tilings, I can’t stop my ears, or deliver
a lecture, or get up and flounce out!”
“No, but there’s another refuge—
silence.”
“Oh, I never speak ill of anyone,
nor listen to scandal, I only love to
find out.”
“Well, that sounds very innocent,
and I hope you will find out all about
the little man-hater—then remedy
any wrong.”
“That I shall, Joe !” she leaned her
sunny head on my knee, and looked
up with blue, candid eyes into mine.
Truly, she is yet untainted, there is
some plea for gossip, if it is as she
says—“only to find out.”
Several days pass and the subject
is half forgotton in my rush of work.
A low fever prevails to an alarming
extent, and I have no assistance, the
other doctor being too old and feeble
to visit. Min is of great help tome,
though none to my patients, as she
knows nothing of nursing or sick
ness.
On this evening, I was enjoying a
comfortable nap before a toasting fire.
Min sat with a lapful of crochet work
which she had made from a single
thread, thereby perplexing me as
much as a druggist’s prescription
would her dainty little head. I had
began to yawn wakefully, and push
off my slippers, when she said, grave-
*y : * . . ,
“Joe, the little man-hater is sick,
but won’t hear of a physician. She
asked Mrs. Deane if there was a doc-
tress in the village, and, of course, she
told her, no, and besides, that women
didn’t have sense and learning enough
to make good doctors.”
“Mrs. Deane is mistaken! Well,
what else ? Has she the fever ?”
“No; Mrs. Deane says it’s a ‘general
lowness.’ 8he complains of a pain in
her side and constant headache.”
“That sounds ugly! Y'et, it isn’t
my business to thrust my attendance
and medicines on people. I hope she
will get well without my physic.
Cases have been known to do so,senii-
occasionally.” I smile.
A rap at the door, and following
immediately, Mrs. Deane’s corpulent
body comes bustling in.
“At home at last. I saw you come
in, and not go out for the first time in
a week, so I judged you were napping
after your labor.s”
“Have this chair. You judged
rightly. My patients are getting
better, and I have time to sit down
and rest awhile. Your family are all
well, I hope ?”
“Yes, thank goodness, except that
poor [creature who won’t listen to
sense nor reason. She laughed in my
face, when I told her that you were a
good man, if the Lord ever made one,
and laughed louder when I hooted at
the idea of a woman doctor. ‘That or
none,’ she said, so there she lies,
needing a gallon of medicine, and all
I can do is to advise, and she won’t
take that, so what am I to do?”
“Perhaps she will do better if left
alone.”
“No, sir! She acknowledges her
self that she needs medical attention,
but says, no man shall ever come
near her, or do anything for her, is
she dies for it.” Mrs. Deane’s face
glowed with supreme delight at this
morceau.
“A very singular case!” I stroke
my moustache musingly, and
then a thought comes. “Rest
easy to-night, Mrs. Deane, I’ll
study ways and means by which this
obstinate little man hater shall be
made well in spite of herself.”
“The Lord knows I wish you
would. I’m so sorry for the poor
thing, trying to be so independent,
yet a body with eyes can see. that she
was born to be loved and petted—a
real man’s woman—so soft and sweet,
only sometimes a littleteranky’mi far
as your sex is concerned, and I must
go back now, for I see somebody
knocking at my front door.”
“You will hear from me to-morow,
about our patient. I feel strongly
interested in her, as much
for her gentle, lady-like ways as for
■being a rara avis."
“Yes, she’s a rare one. Mrs. Deane
comfortably misappropriated one of
my pet phrases, and unconsciously
fitted it rather well.
“Now what scheme have you, old
Plotter?” Min asked after showing
our neighbor out; and seating her
plump self on my knee.
Simply for you to take my place
—to be Mrs. Dr. Joe Guy on in truth
as well as on the cards.”
“Oh, you sweet old goose! Don’t
you know that I can’t tell salts from
arsenic, and couldn’t read one of
those things you send to the druggist,
if I died for it.”
“I know that you are a little igno
ramus, in these things, and all I wish
you to do is to feel her pulse, roll
your eyes and pretend to write a pre
scription.”
“Oh, look at her tongue, Joe,” she
nodded wisely.
Yes, be sure to look at her tongue;
see whether it is furred, or red, or
what; ask all her symptoms, then
tell me right away, and we’ll soon
have her well.”
The next morning Min was intro
duced by the unblushing Mrs. Deane,
as Dr. Mass, a contraction of her
maiden name Massey, and to tell it
in her words: “I looked as stern and
cross asold Blue Mass himself. I felt
her pulse, only I am afraid I got too
high up, for I could hardly feel any
pulsation, and she said timidly, ‘I
thought it was a little lower down on
the wrist.’ ‘I was feeling the upper
pulse, madam,’ I said pompously,
now for the lower one,’ and I slid
my fingers down. She looked meek
ly on, as if she had learned some
thing new, but I came awfully near
laughing, because I saw Mrs. Deane
grow red in the face and go shut one
of the blinds. ‘A trifle more light,
Mrs. Deane,’ I called out impatiently.
I wish to see the patient’s tongue.
Let me see the tongue, madame! Ah
nice and white—no fur on it. A little
red on the edge, but we’ll soon have
it white all over.’ Mrs. Deane then
became so convulsed at something
that she left the room. ‘I thought
my tongue was too white,’ she meek
ly expostulated. ‘Not at all, as long
as It has no fur on it’. ‘But I thought
the white was thefur,’ she said; Joe, I
came near gasping! ‘Is that white
looking covering /to-?’ ”
When I could command language
to explain, from my long and loud
laughter, I told her that the white
covering was an unhealthy excres-
ecnce, that we denominated fur.
“Well, why didn’t you explain be
fore. There I was, making a little
goose of myself, talking of something
I knew nothing about.”
You should have done like some
bald-heads and gray beards that I
know—looked wise and said noth-
it
“I did talk too much,” she allowed
candidly; “overdid my part, but
when your medicines bring her all
right, she’ll think that I was ofily
absent-minded.” She laughed out
merrily, and I kissed the sweet, rosy
mouth out of which the funny mis
takes had isstrecl.
My wife now made daily visits,
though after the first the little man-
hater astutely guessed the state of the
case—that my Min was a good-heart
ed little-go-between, amVdelicately hu
mored her, for a time, in the belief
that she was undiscovered. They
became great friends, and one day®
she unbosomed herself. Min can tell
things better than I, so she shail tell
it as she told me.
It is horrid and awful mean of
them. I would hate them too. She
says that her step-father treated her
poor invalid mother so cruelly that
she began by hating him. He broke
her mother’s heart by his tyranny and
infidelity. But she loved his daugh
ter, Ruth Garner, who is a most love
ly character, so unlike her father in
her truth and unselfishness. This
father was a perfect terror to both of
them, and so they grew up together
to the age of eighteen, and then they
met a young man just home from col
lege. He was as handsome as a pic
ture. Dark, clear complexion, great
brown eyes and yellow curly hair.
Just think how splendid!” Min
clasped her hands, and I demurred
that that was not my ideal of a hand
some man. “Y’ou jealous beast—nor
mine, but I must give justice. Well,
he and Violet fell in love at once, and
without delay, and loved much. Oh,
you should hear her tell how she
loved him, but the step-father oppos
ed -violently, and as he was her le
gal guardian, she had to meet her
lover on the sly, and here Ruth was
of great assistance. She would plan
their meetings and qui vive for them.
She was, O so happy for a time! she
says that she felt that such
happiness could not last. Oh,
haven’t told you even his name—
Malcom Byrne!”
“Ah!”
“Isn’t it pretty ? WeH, she began
to observe, after ar time, that he look
ed absent aud'gloomy, and seemed in
* hurry Jo get away from her pres
ence^/She tried to think that it was
hef'unagination, until one day, she
asked Ruth .if she had noticed any
ing wrong in' Malcom’s manner.
She was a dear, truthful thing, Vio
let says, and couldn’t tell a falsehood
so stammered that she had, and that
if she were in Vi’s place she would
stand no such. Men were all that
way. Just let them think a woman
loved them and then they would try
to walk on them. She only wished
that Malcom Byrne had her to deal
with instead of a poor little loving
thing like Violet. This put Vi on
her metal, and she asked Ruth what
she would do.‘I would have him at my
feet in a day’s time, whining for a
smile like a whipped schopUgJ
simply by pretending to him Ilia
cared for him no longer, and wished
to lie released.’ Vi told her that she
couldn’t carry out such a plan
that the mere thought of it was such
misery to her that she would be sure
to break down in the attempt. ‘Very
well, go on playing the love-sick
maid, and see how quick he’ll jilt
you. He is going to the North to
morrow on a short trip; you had bet
ter write it, and then there’ll be no
danger of your breaking down, and
he’ll be on his good behavisur when
he comes back.’ So she wrote the
letter, and came near fainting when
she saw Malcom Byrne coming up
the steps. Ruth gave her a look, and
how she did it she doesn’t know, but
she nodded carelessly to him,then ex
cused herself. She barely had time
to notice a dark flush come over his
face, and heard him laugh harshly as
he made some remark to Ruth, and
she carried her heavy heart slowly up
the stairs and spent the night in tearsi
agony and prayer. Ruth gave him
the letter, and said he laughed very
much over two mis-spelt words and
thought that she had better finish her
education before marrying. Now
wasn’t that hard-hearted and insult
ing? Ruth hated to tell Violet how
cold and indifferent he seemed after
reading the letter, and duty compell
ed her to say—relieved; and if she
were in Vi’s place, she would never
speak to him again. Which advice
she was compelled to take, as he left
that night for the North. Vi was
then sick for weeks, and Ruth nursed
her faithfully, and vowed that if it
was ever in her power she would give
him ‘pepper’ for abusing the love and
trust of the dearest, sweetest, best
girl in the world. Violet gets charm
ing letters from this Ruth Garner,
who must be a person of heart and
character. Well, what does this step
father do but runaway with all Vi’s
money, about twenty thousand dol
lars, leaxdng her about six hundred-
Hq left Ruth well provided for, and
she lives with an aunt. So poor Vi
was left homeless. This treatment,
with that of her lover’s, almost un
settled her reason, and when it re
turned with her health,she felt no emo
tion but that of hatred to all mankind
and indifference to all else. She
came here to economize and review
her studies with’the purpose of making
a support by teaching, when this
sickness prostrated her again. And
now comes the worst of all, showing
how self-sacrificing a woman can be.
Ruth has just written her a dear,
loving letter, yet inflicting at the
the same time, a blow. She told her
that Malcom Byrne had come back,
and of her many plans of revenge,
she could think of no surer one than
to marry him. He was very much
in love with her, and that a woman
eould work a revenge so much more
completely, if she had him in her
power and constantly at her side. So
she proposed to marry him before a
great while, and from that time, she
would ‘pepper’ him. Isn’t that no
ble of her, Joe ? She doesn’t love
him, and, as she says, she is laying
herself on the “sacrificial altar,” for
dear Vi’s sake. And poor silly Vi
actually cried, Joe, and said she would
rather Ruth wouldn’t make such a
sacrifice, and hastened to write and
beg that she wouldn’t so immolate
herself. Min ended breathless.”
“And that is the man-hater’s story!
You say it happened a year ago. And
that is why Malcom Byrne’s eyes
were so sad, and his brow so clouded
when he wrung my hand aud told
me ‘good-bye,’ before starting to Eu
rope, saying, at the same time—for I
had told him of our coming marriage
‘Good luck to you, Joe ! but mind
she doesn’t jilt you. They’re a de
ceitful lot, the whole of them.’ I
wondered at the time that a boy of
his noble nature should speak in that
way of woman, but thought it only a
manish affectation. So that’s the
reason. Poor Malcom—poor Violetj!
Both dupes to the self-sacrificing
Ruth!”
“O Joe, what an unjust suspicion !
The writer of those letters must be
true and good.”
“We’ll see about that! Now what
is the address ? We used to corres
pond, and I think I owe him a let
ter.”
‘That is a good idea!” Min sprang
up and gave me a writing desk and
the address, and throwing her hand
kerchief over hersunny,braided head,
was off again to my rival’s—Miss
Violet West’s.
The letter was answered in person
two days after by Malcom Byrne,
who grasped my hand and asked
without salutation :
“Is Vi better?”
“Nothing amiss there, boy, but a
few heart-strings put out of tune.”
“And you know, my friend, that
it was no fault of mine.”
“I believed so, or should neverhold
your hand.”
“God knows I have thought that
my heart-strings would break under
the cruel rack of the past year, think
ing that Vi was tired of me; that she
j Moved another. Then that cold letter
of dismissal which you explained,
and so.attuned my heart to its old
love song. Thank God, and thank
you, my friend.”
“No, no, you must thank this little
lady, Mrs. Dr. Guyon.”
They both laughed—Min with a
blush—for in my long letter I had
omitted nothing^
“Now come, we’ll have dinner;
then Min will run over aud attune
Miss Violet’s heart-strings by the
good news. Then wtS’ll have the
harmony of ‘two hearts that beat as
ohe,’ ” &c.
“Joe is growing sentimental and
flowerj' in his old age,”’Min laughed
happily as we seated ourselves around
the board.
Malcome ate sparingly of our well
cooked little dinner, and after he had
placed his knife and fork, mid the
servant had gone out, Min said ner
vously:
“Now, Mr. Byrne, in jetqjn' finr
klnifiUwj J[M» JBMCtfiffL - - -
l' rendered, will you please tell us here
alone why you treated Vi as you
did?”
He looked surprised for a moment,
then—“I loved Violet with all the
love of man’s first passion. I was per
fectly happy until Miss Ruth Garner
hinted to me one day that Violet was
not perfectly happy—that she had
mistaken a feeling of friendship for
one of love, and shuddered at
thoughts of marrying me. Of course
this was ‘confidential’—‘only observe
how she trembled and turned from
me. ’ I did observe, and was confirm
ed by the cold letter. So I went away
with more sorrow at my heart than I
thought a man could bear and not go
mad. At intervals a kind letter
from Miss Ruth would cheer my soli
tary wanderings. Then I began to
notice in them a—a kind of warmth.”
Pie grew embarrassed and I nodded.
“That at first I attributed to a man’s
vanity.”
O, yes, they’ve plenty of it,” Min
Interrupted, with an innocent look at
me.
But after a while, they grew un
mistakable. She had lost her heart,
she said, to one who had squandered
his affections on a jilt, but she lived
for others, and if I would return to
her she would thank heaven that she
had snatched a ‘brand from the burn
ing,’ and she would make me happy
by her love.”
Tlie Hypocrite!” and the little man-
hater stood from behind the curtains
that fell around the bay window,
with Hashing eyes, flaming cheeks
and outstretched hands. “O Mal-
com, she has made all the trouble be
tween us; she loved you from
tlie first, and we were like clay in
her hands.”
A glad light flashed on his face as
he went swiftly to meet her. Then
Min and I looked out of the window,
and Min caller! out, without turning:
“OVi! you spoilt it all! Why
didn’t you wait?”
country said she liked cow milk bet
ter than city milk.
—Conclusive—“Mankind,” said a
preacher, “includes woman; for man
embraces, woman.”
—The wiso man weareth t; combi-
nation lock on his nwmth, c sariMwM
’niemb&rs the number thereof only at
mealtime.
—The Brooklyn Eagle thinks it
better to have less pomp at wedding
ceremonies and more pork and pota
toes afterwards.
—Sampson Goliah presented a pe
tition for an increase of pension in
the United States Senate. Truly a
gigantic name.
—The man who said he had just
got out of a tight place had been seen
a few minutes before wiping his
mouth in a drinking saloon.
—Girls who are not handsome hate
those who are, while those who are
handsome hate one another. Which
class has the best tune of it.
—It is said that the kind mothers
down east are grown so affectionate
that they give their children chloro
form previous to whipping them.
—“My opinion is,” said a philo
sophical old lady of much experience
and observance, “that any man as
dies upon washing day does it out of
The Ores* American Telia.
The relic hunters are a feature of
Niagara. In addition to the numer
ous Indian stores in the village, one
meets a blind woman a lame man, or
a crippled child on every comer and
every turn. I shook them all off ex
cept a one-eyed man with a scar on
his nose. He made up his mind that
I was his meat, and he headed me off
from the Goat Island Bridge and
asked:
“Any specimens ?”
“No, sir.”
“Any rock ornaments ?”
“I couldn’t t” a smotheredvowe*^H®ad:snowd it to him. “Think of me
plied,and Min pfnehedmetokeep' tor P° more > he whispered huskily.
looking—out of the window. After
keeping us for a time gazing idiotic
ally at nothing, Miss Vi’s natural
tones came.
“There, Malcom! We ought to have
behaved better before company.”
“That doesn’t matter for us, only
it isn’t so nice for you," Min says.
“She speaks knowingly,” I say to
Malcom.
He answers with a glowing, grate
ful smile at Min, who assumes great
dignity, a3 she says, to my astonish
ment :
I thought there was something
wrong about that Ruth Garner, and
determined to find it out. Don’t be
too credulous hereafter, Vi! Remem
ber that our sex is harder and more
cruel to each other than the other sex
to us. Never hate men again—they
are so easily duped, so inoffensive, so
noble, that it is unwomanly to hate
them!”
“Let us hope that Miss Ruth, the
true, the candid, will be laid on the
‘sacrificial altar’ by some stern hus
band, and be well ‘peppered,’ ” I say,
unctuously.
Bird’s Wings for Bonnets.—As
soon as they have been removed from
the bird, rub plenty of salt on the
joint—or pulverized borax is better-
pin them firmly on a hoard, spread
as desired; place a heavy weight on
and leave them for a day or two; then
remove the weight; rub tlie joint
with borax, and place in a cool, shady
place until they become dry and are
in shape.
Discoloration of Imfant’s
Teeth.—Clean them every day with
borax; if a brush is too severe try a
soft cloth, dipped in borax either dis
solved in warm water or pulverized;
if the gums are tender the borax will
heal and harden them.
A Receipt for Making the
Complexion Soft and Fine.—
Make a linen bag large enough to
hold a quart of bran; put it in a ves
sel and pour two quarts of boiling
water on it; let it stand all day, and
at night on going to bed take the bag
out and wash the face with the bran
water; in the morning -wash it off
entirely with distilled rain water. In
a very short time it will make a
coarse skin feel like velvet.
The Care of Plants.—For the
benefit of those who have drooping
house-plants, I will suggest that the
dirt should be shaken from the roots,
and they be placed in fresh mold, a
large quantity of which can be pro
cured at any florist’s for five or ten
cents. The trouble in many cases
will be found to be the angle worms
which feed on the small roots.
One Way to Do It.—The lady
who wishes to gain strength and re
duce stoutness, must eat meat and
beef tea, no hominy, groats or cream.
She ean drink claret, but not ale or
beer, and if she can take exercise
enough to digest her food, she may
hope to gain strength and reduce the
flesh.
To Cure Chills and Fever.—
Sleep in a well lighted room, with
gas, lamp, or candle burning all night
—keep the room well ventilated and
a basin of water in it, uncovered, or
a wet towel placed before the window;
wash in salt water; rub the body
and limbs with alcohol or liquor
twice a week; eat plenty of good
nourishing food; keep the bowels
regular; avoid walking or exposing
yourself to the rays of the sun; take
three to five grains of quinine daily;
also a glass of brandy and five drops
of muriatic tincture of iron dally; the
brandy and iron should not be taken
until the fever is broken.
spite.
—If she doesn’t invite you into the
house after having escorted her home,
it isn’t worth while to waste any
more ice cream on her—your case is
hopeless.
—Jennie June affirms that during
the past season Anna Dickinson had
an opportunity to form two matrimo
nial engagements, one with no less a
personage than Gen. B. F. Butler.
—“How is it that you have never
kindled a flame in any man’s heart?”
asked a rich lady of her portionless
neice. “I suppose, aunt, it is because
I am not a good match,” meekly re
plied the poor neice.
“My dear,” said a hnsband, in
startling tones, after awaking his
wife in the night, “I have swallowed
a dose of strychnine!” “Well, then,
do for goodness sake lie still, or itinay
come up.”
The politest of all darkies lives
near Newark. When he meets a gen
tleman of his own color by moonlight
lie says: “Mr. Sam, do you know
any place in de neighborhood whar a
gentleman might borrow a chicken?”
—Everybody thought it was a
match, and so did he, and so did she;
but last evening at a croquet party,
she hit her pet corn a whack with
the mallet that sounded like a torpe
do, and he—lie laughed. “We meet
as strangers,” she w r rote on her cuff
—The phrase “to die in the last
ditch” was first emplbyed, w’e believe
by William of Orange. “Do you not
see your country is lost.” said the
Duke of Buckingham, who had been
sent to negotiate at the Hague, when
England and France leagued against
Ilollan d. “ There is a sure way never
to see it lost,” replied William, “and
that is to die in the last ditch.”
—Literary young man at a party:
“Miss Jones, have you seen Crabbe’s
Tales?” Y T oung lady, scornfully, “I
was not aware that crabs had tails.”
Literary young man covered with
confusion: “I beg your pardon,
ma’am; I should have said, read
Crabbe’s Tales?” Young lady, angri-
ly-scomful: “And I was not aware
that red crabs had tails, either.” Ex
it young man.”
—Mortifying Occurrence: . “You
see, my dear,” he explained, “the
man was climbing the ladder. with a
hodful of mortar on his shoulder.
Just as I passed under it he slipped,
and the whole contents of the hod
came down on my head.” “How rid
iculous you must have looked!” she
replied. “On the contrary, my dear,
I was sub-lime.”
—A milkman was lately seeking
the aid of the police to trace the
whereabouts of a family who had
left the neighborhood owing him
eighteen dollars. “Well, I suppose
there was nine dollars’ worth of wa
ter in that milk account,” remarked
the policeman. “That’s where it
galls me—that’s where it hurts,” re
plied the dealer. “They were new
customers, and I hadn’t commenced
to water the milk yet.”
—Not long ago they had a Sunday
school picnic down at the Cascade,
and the two senior deacons threw a
couple of lemons and a pint of sugar
in the creek, and charged strangers
five cents every time they took a
drink.
—There is nothing that will tend
to make a man forget to ask a bless
ing at the breakfast table quicker
tlian to sit 011 a plate of seft-boiled
eggs that the cook left on the chair
while she tied her shoes or to take a
three-story swallow of baked coffee
that he thought was iced.
—The late Mrs. Jane W was
equally remarkable for kindness of
heart and absence of mind. One day
she was accosted by a beggar, whose
stoutjand healthy appearance start
led her into a momentary doubt of
the needfulness of charity in this in
stance. “Why,” exclaimed the good
old lady, “you. look well able to
work.” “Y’es,” replied the suppli
cant, “but I have been deaf and
dumb these seven years.” “Poor
man, what a heavy affliction !” ex
claimed !Mrs. W , at the same
time giving him relief with a liberal
hand. On returning home she men
tioned the fact, remarking, “What a
dreadful thing it is to be deprived of
such precious faculties!” “But how,”
asked her sister, “did you know that
the poor man had been deaf and
dumb for seven years?” “Why,”
was the quiet and unconscious an
swer, “he told me so.”
Astonishing Suffew.
It is the duty *of every person who
has used Boschee’s German Syrup to
let its wonderful qualities be known to
their friends in curing Consumption,
severe Coughs, Croup, Asthma, Pneu
monia, and in fact all throat and lung
diseases. No person can use it without
immediate relief. Three doses will re
lieve any case, and we consider it the
duty of all Druggist to recommend
it to the poor dying consumptive, at
least to try one bottle, as 40,000 dozen
bottles were sold last year, and no one
case where it failed was reported. Such
a medicine as the German Syrup can
not be too widely known. Ask your
Druggist about it. Sample bottles to
try sold at 10 cents. Regular size 75
cents. For sale by Druggists.
myS diwly
To Wash Red Flannel.—Make
a warm suds; use very little soap;
add a teaspoonful of pulverized borax
to every pail of water; rub on the
board, or, if possible, only with the
hands; rinse in one plain *warm wa
ter p wring or press very dry: shake
well before hanging in a shady place
to dry.
“Any bullets from the battlefield of
Lundy’s Lane ?”
“No, sir.”
“Any bead work?”
“No, sir.”
“Any pea-shooters for the chil
dren ?”
“No, sir.”
“Any Indian pipes ?”
“No, sir. 1 ’
“Any canes?”
“No, Sir.”
I worked past him on the bridge,
and while I was viewing the rapids
he came up and asked—
“Any tobacco pouches ?”
“No, sir.”
“Won’tyoujplease buy something?”
he entreated, scratching the scar on
his nose.
“Not a pennyworth, sir. I came
here to view tldl grandeur of Niagara,
to feel awed and puzzled, to drink in
all that’s solemn and magnificent in
the cataract—and if you follow me
on that island I’ll murder you?”
I was was walking down tlie island
when I heard a hard breathing be
hind, and lo! there was the one-eyed
man again.
“Want to buy any relics ?” he ask
ed, as he came up.
“No, sis.”
“Want to buy any battles from the
bullet field of Lundy’s Lane?”
“No, sir.”
“Want to buy any—”
It was my first murder, and it
makes me shudder to think of it. It
is no trifling thing to brain a one-
eyed man with a scar on his nose and
throw his body over a cliff, and I’m
sorry I did it. I see now that it was
my duty to have permitted him to
bore me to death.
A Judge of Picture*.
The Chief of Police was visited
by
a sharp-nosed, keen-eyod woman who
iea a
carried a chromo, 10x14 in size in her
hand, and who placed it before him
and asked:
“Are you a judge of chromos and
oil paintings ?”
“Well, I can tell what suits me,”
he replied.
“Can you tell one from the other?”
“Yes,’m.”
“And what do you call this?”
“That is a chromo.’ r
He wanted to say that it was the
worst one he ever saw, but he didn’t.
“Now, you are sure, are you ?” she
asked.
“Certainly I am.”
“Welly that makes me feel a good
deal better. . I bought that yesterday
of an agent for a chromo, and he had
scarcely left the house, when some of
the neighbors came in and said he’d
swindled me, and that it was nothing
but an oil painting. I thought I’d
bring it down and get your opinion,
and you say it’s a chromo, do you ?”£
“Ido.”
“All right—thanks! I’ve always
been an enthusiastic patron of art,and
if that man had got four dollars out
of me on false pretenses, it would
have kind o’ set me against the old
masters.”
We too often mistake strong feel
ings for strong character. A man
who bears all beforehim,beforewhose
frown domestics tremble, and whose
bursts of fury .make the children of
the household quake because he has
his way in all things, we call him a
strong man. The truth is that he is
a weak man; it is his passions that
are strong—he, mastered by them is
weak.
AN OPEN LETTER
TO THE PUBLIC.
New York, October 1st, 1877.
I have devoted twenty years of pa
tient study to the Liver and its relations
to the hnman body, in search of a rem
edy which would restore it, when dis
eased, to its normal condition. The
result of that labor has been the pro
duction of
TITT’S UVEB PILLS.
Their popularity has become so extend
ed and the demand so great as to induce
unscrupulous parties to counterfeit
them, thereby robbing me of the re
ward, and the afflicted of their virtues.
TO CAUTION THE PUBLIC,
and protect them for vile impositions, I
have adopted a new label, which bears
my trade-mark and notice of its entry
in the Office of the Librarian of Con
gress, also my signature, thus:
-ff-
AS-to COUNTERFEIT this is forgery.“®&
Before purchasing, examine the label
closely.
THE GENUINE TUTT’S PILLS
exert a peculiar influence ^pn the sys-
. Their action is prompt and their
good effects are felt in a few hours. A
quarter of a century of study of the
Liver has demonstrated that it exerts
a greater influence over tlie system
than any other organ of the body, and
when diseased the entire organism is
deranged. It is specially for the heal
ing of this vital organ that I have spent
so many years of toil, and having found
the remedy, which has proved the
greatest boon ever furnished the afflict
ed,shall they be deprived of its benefits,
and a vile imitation imposed upon
them?
Letthelionestpeopleof America see to
it that they are not defrauded. Scruti
nize the label closely, see that it bears
all the marks above mentioned, and
buy the medicine only from respectable
dealers. It can be found everywhere.
Very respectfully,
XV. It. TUTT.
.A.
COUGH, COLD,
Or Sore Throat
REQUIRES
1H1SDIAT8 ATTENTION
A continuance for any length or time causes
irritation of the Langs, or some chronie Throat
affection. Neglect oftentimes results in some in.
cnrable Lnng disease. BROWN’S BRON
CHIAL TROCHES have proved their efficacy
by a test of mamy years, and will almost invari*
ably give immediate relief. Obtain only
BROWN’S BRONCHIAL TROCHES, and do not
take any of the worthless imitations that may
be offered. de2 dim
A PHYSIOLOGICAL
!
and
COLUMBUS, GEORGIA, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 9, 1877.
BANKING AND- INSURANCE.
-v,
GROCERIES.
A. M. ALLEN, President.
O. S. JORDAN, Treasurer*
Pioneer Stores.
Pioneer Buildings, Front Street, opposite E. &
P. Mills.
TWO ITBW STORES
FULL OF
XBW GOODS!
AGENTS FOR CHEWACLA LIME COMFY,
AND WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN
QEXBB.AI1 MEHOHANDIJSSI.
GROCERY DEPARTMEMT,
DRY GOODS DEPARTMENT,
CROCKERY OF EYERY STYLE,
CLOTHING IN ENDLESS VARIETY
BOOTS and SHOES, especially made for us.
E VERYTHING NE7W! Everything bought for cash. Everything sold close. The cele*
brated CAEWACLA LIME, by car load, barrel or bushel. All retail purchase, dellv-
ered in Browneville, Girard, Rose Hill, Wynnton and the city.
A. M. ALLEN, late of Allen, Preer & Illges; OBCAR S. JORDAN, late salesman Eagle St
Phenix; TIIOS. CHAPMAN, late Chapman dc Verstille; WM. COOPER, late Grocer, will bet
CARRIAGES, WAGONS, Ac. ‘
SMITH & MURPHX,
City Carriage Works,
COIiUMBUS, OA.,
K EEP constantly on hand and man*
ufoctnre to order all styles of
CARRIAGES, RQCKAWAYS, BUG
GIES& SPRING WAGONS.
We gaurantee to give a better Vehi
cle for less money than was ever be
fore sold in this market. We will du-
•nlicate any work brought to this mar
ket. Special attention given to repair
ing in all its branches. Satisfaction gauranteed as to work and price.
Factory on Bryan Street, between Broad and Oglethorpe Streets.
Ware-room Southwest corner Bryan and Oglethorpe Streets.
octtl d2tmwAwOm
H- CL ZM’ICEE
GUNBY BUILDING, ST. CLAIR STREET,
—DEALER IN-
~ " _ * Vagans
Of Every Description, at Prices to suit the times.
W HAT you don’t see ask for, and he will exhibit cuts (from
reliable builders) of any Vehicle manufactured, which he
will furnish upon short notice, at manufacturer’s prices. All
work sold and warranted will be protected.
Has now in stock and will continue to receive flesh supplies,
of
Buggy, Carriage and other Harness; Gents’ and
Ladies’ Saddles in great variety: Collars,
Hames, Bridles,&c.; Whips,Carry
Combs, Horse Brushes,&c.
feT ALL WILL BE SOLD AT CLOSE PRICES.
ociltid&wly TT- O. ACo!
“THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST.”
lot
THE OLDEST LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY IN THE UNITED STATES.
Incorporated. 1888.
Tlie Nev England Hitnal Li Inne Co,
BOSTOTKT,
Assets, January, 1877, - - • $11,515,802.00
Premiums Received in 1876, - - • 1,996,286.84
Interest Received in 1876, .... 804,531.47
Death Claims Paid in 1876, - - - - 806,462.00
T HE POLICIES of this noted OLD COMPANY are issued under the.M&ssachusette Non-
Forfeiture Law, by which policy-holders arc protected for a giveu time after payments
of Premium have ceased, no other condition of the policy being violated. Under the law
the NEW ENGLAND MUTUAL LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY paid in 1875 *77,351.70;
and in IS76, $25,000 on 31 policies, on which the premium payments Had ceased.
During tlie last 33 years, this company has issued policies to the amount of *150,000,000
upon 55,000 lives, and has paid in death claims and endowments *10,600,000, and has return
ed to its policy-holders more than $7,000,000 in dividends.
Being a purely Mutual Company, every holder of a policy is a member of the Company,
and is entitled to a vote at its annual meetings, and to his IU11 pro rata of the entire proflta •
of the Company. ,
With a membership of 21,000, tin ample reserved fund and an annual income exceeding _
$3,000,000, it is safe to say that the future operations of the Company will prove as advan
tageous as those of the past have been. a < >
&sF' The Dividends in this Company are equal to those of any other, and tb*
interest Receipts of the past two years have been- sufleient to pay all death
claims.
Applications received aud policies promptly issued through
D. F. WILLCOX, Agent,
declooJtf 71 Broad street.
HTo. 92 Broad Sreet,
Bepresenting Fourteen Million Dollars Capital.
SOUTHERN MUTUAL INSURANCE COMPANY, Athens, Gft» ,
1‘IKENLX INSURANCE CDMPANYV Hartfopd,Coun.
MANHATTAN INSURANCE COMPANY:; New ^fork.
LANCASHIRE INSURANCE COMPANY, Manetiester,. Eng. ,
SOUTHERN MUTUAL returns fifty per cent, premium to the insured, aad
no liability to policy holders.
MANHATTAN will insure Gia House* at lowest ruling rates.
$25,000 deposited with the State as security for policy holders.
[OTggtly} ■’ ■ . . . ;
Made toy tne
In the State of Georgia, tor the protection of her policy holders.
OUR DPOSIT is ample for the protection of our patrons.
WE REPRESENT THE
HOME OF NEW YORK Capital and Assets $ 6.500,000
LONDON ASSURANCE CORPORATION “ « 14,000,000
MOBILE UNDERWRITERS’ - “ “ “ 1,260,000
PETERSBURG SAVINGS and INSURANCE... “ «* « 000,000
*6* Risks will be watiten at rates as low, Aftyostments wiU be made a* liberally, aad payment*
<»y i
made as promptly, as bf any other first-class company represented in Georgia.
Office in Georgia Home building.
sep!6 eodtf