Newspaper Page Text
■Vol. 2.
EROS.
117 JOEL BENTOW
-Givi no andsitear, fair move,
Eros of Aphrodite bora
..Comos once on earthfto each and all,
And spreads tho hoart’s high festival.
££e is the messenger of fate —
Gives gifts unto the desolate ;
And where ho walks tho sunrise pours
■With lavish hands its rosy stores.
Love harbors neither fear nor doubt—
’Tis more than all ths world without ;
Its miracles < n wandering eyes
Fall with delicio iF, sweet suprise,
tin ways of old, in methods ne v
Pursued, or whether it piar&ar,
Love firmly speaks—nor plans or waits;
That is not love which hesitates.
His light is finer than the sun's;
His faoa shines like Endymion’s ; •
■ His joys are hired from all the sphere*,
And grief goes out when he appears.
—From Scribner.
A (*3m ot Purest Hxy Serene,
POSITIVELY THE MASTERPIECE OE THE OP
G. WASHINGTON CHILDS, A. M.
0
Pinr.uKr.Pni.v, Feb. 4.—Tbo obituary
clerk in the Puilaielphia Telgar office
was exceedingly bnsy when I called upon
. him the other day. He was pointing
out models of mortuary verse by Gr, W-
Childs, A. M , 'iti the great’offioe eft ap
"book, to the soon ot solem ied vis.igad
applicants wh > tile l up to the desk. The
obituary clerk nodded pleasantly to 'tie
:anl beaconed into stand by him, think
ing, doubtless, that I bad coma to study
with hiintho latestshalaws o' the som
bre mind of <l. W. Childs,' A. M. He
was mistaken. Mine was even a sadder
errand. My cousin, flans Opponhehnir,
.the kilsvnine minufaatiirer, hid d-parU
ed thUHIA u.i o'te day prevlo.is, mm. ml
with a find exertion, requeste 1 that I
secure a fitting p >em from the haul of
the laureate of funeral p vesy to gram
bis tombstone an 1 b s publnhe l in tin
Le Ijer. M inths ago, I procured a poem
upon the death of his father, the carp t
weaver, whiu i began as follows :
O, death comes when we least expect,
The chosen people to s loot;
Thus Oppenheimer, the carpet weaver,
Was o imo l off by bib .as fever !
Up in realing this, Urns, who had
not previous y manifested much concern,
was prostrated by the violence of his e
motion and never recovered. I’lms it
seemed fitting that he, to >, snould le
ceive poetic honor after death.
When I was left alone with the clerk,
I stated my wishes to him. Fortunately,
G. W. Childs’ A. M., was at his desk up
stairs, and upon inquiry was found to be
iu a condition of inspired sadness. The
clerk dashed off the words, ‘'Hans Open
heimer—kalsomiuor —original, on a
piece of paper, and sent it up by the
dumb-waiter. In one minute and thir
teen seqonds the following verse was in
the clerks hands :
Life is a pathway to the tomb—
The tomb is but an open door.
Through which to everlasting light
pr gloom
.We mortals pass forevermore.
With us there’s one less kalsominer,
But heaven has gained an Opeu
heimer.
Then why these tears ; this grief .
Poor Opeuheimer’s got relief.
Gone to meet the carpet weaver.
G. W. C., A. M.—s£so
“What !” screamed the clerk, noticing
the expression of disappointment on ray
face. “What! You don’t—you can’t—
you dare not say—
“ Quite the contrary,” I replied, “only
I would rather—
“Urnph ! I see !” the clerk sheered.
After sending another missive to the
master poet, he continued, pitifully : ‘but,
pfter all, you’re not at fault t you re as
God made you. But Shakespeare! (dra
matically) Shakespeare would have gloat
ed over the art, the finish, of this little
verse, and Milton would have envied its
composer.” The clerk was interrupted
py the descent of the dumb-waiter with
this from up stairs : •
The Openheimers, deep in gloom,
Are peering down into the tomb.
There lies Hans, in death reclining,
Tired of life and’kalsomining.
Long their faces, deep their sighs,
Diaped their door knobs, wet their
eyes—
Gone, but not forgotten.
G. W. C., A. M.—52.21
I was not dissembling when I allowed
g. smile to wreathe my face. I was en
raptured. The clerk leaped over the
counter and enfolded me in his arm3.
“Eh, what ? said he. £Je could say
Jio more.
Ati, indeed, I replied too full of joy
or other words.
Ik iMatc tkipitr,
Than the clerk seised my hand and
seemed to try to give utteranoo to what
he felt within him. When our’happi
ness bad thus been expressed, [ counted
out the money for tho poem, and as I
did, there came a rattling at the rope o f
the dumb-waiter. The clerk pulled tho
waiter down, and brought from it a scrap
ot paper upon which this this was writ
ten :
“Catch that Openhehner man nnl
show him this. I consider it the crown
ing stroke l
G. W. ffmti)*, A. M.
Openheimcr—Openhoim—
Yesterday began to climb
To the regions of the b est,
To the land of endless rest.
On the further shore he’s shining,
Troubled not with kalsomiuiug.
Opertheim—Openhei ava
il as beeoiiie a heavenward- climb
er.
G W. C., A, M—ss.
I will not endeavor to describe the
scene that followed the reading of this
marvel of poesy. Suffice it to say I bad
it published in, the heelger, engraved on
the coffin plate, embroidered on silk and
framed, and intend to order it carved on
my cousin’s tombstone, where it shall
former attest the solemn supremacy ot
this laureate of 111 2 grave.—A. Ti Sun.
TOM PAINE.
AIV P YE-WITNESS* STORY OF IIIS OAST HOURS.
To the Elihrof the Press
Sir: 1 real in a late paper an ac
count of a meeting.he’d in this ciiy for
the purpose of celebrating the birthday
of Thomas Paine. Among other per
formances, a manuscript eulogy of Paine
was read by a gentleman described as
“a tall, gray-haired man of fine presence
and excellent voice.” One might infer
from tliis description of the personal ap
pearance and apparent age ot the eulo
gist, that in contradicting the common
belief rejecting the hero of bis narra
tive, that he died a drunkard and debau-.
— rfAiessod ot information
which hitherto h.v! i- -u
--press- Tlie writer of this communi
cation wai more than litty years ago a
resident of New llooholle, N. Y., wiivrc
the bo ly of Paine wai burled. His
.rrave was in one c irnorof a farm, which,
havin g been confiscated as the property
of a T >ry daring the Revolutionary
War, ha 1 been presented by th.c State
of New York for his p itri jti.tr serv.se in
aid of the ll volu i> t A monfi n ■ lit,
erected by fiienllv buds, marked .flu
place of his burial. Ilia bones hid not
then bean real ive 1, as they after.yards
were, to Eaglati 1, for no good object on
the part of those who under cover ot the
night disinterred, boxed, and carried
(hem -uvay. On this tana he spent hi*
latter <1 lys with a solitary (eraile atten
dant. I have heard Ihe physician who
visited him describe the condition in
which he was accustomed to hud his pa
tient, aud to which his vicious habits,
and especially his habitual drunkenness
had reduced him. This lie represented
as revolting to his sensibilities, making
even bis necessary calls to i rescribe foi
his relief exceedingly unwelcome and
repulsive. This physician was an es
teemed elder in the church of which i
was at that time pastor, highly regarded
not only tor his skill in his profession,
but a man of sound judgement and un
impeachable veracity- He has been
dead ' many years. But the name of
Matson Smith, M. D , is still held in
honored remembrance by all who knew
him. His grandson, Rev. Matson Men 1
Smith, D. D, is stated, is about to le
move from Hartford, Ot., to this city to
become a professor in the Episcopal Di
vinity School. The animus of the arti
cle, which the above statement is intend
ed to contradict, appears plainly in the
article itself* While the audacity of its
aspersions forbids tjie hope that the eu
logist himself will acknowledge his er
ror, it is prooer that others, who might
else be misled by it, should understand
that the i‘eal motive to this perversion of
the facts of history must hare been lias
tred of Christianity, and especially of its
ministeis, the clergy of all denomina
tions. This is the writer's language,
quoted from the account given of the
famous birthday celebration : ‘The
stories of his drunkenness and licen
tiousness are the wicked invention of the
clergy whose path he had dared to cross
and who only refrain from practicing the
abominable cruelties of the past ages
upon those who differ from them, not
because of want of will, but because
their streugth is shorn.” J. D. W.
1922 Mocht Vernon St., Philadelphia.
FLIZE.
BY MOZIS ADDUM3 . (Dlt. U. W. BAGBY).
Ihateafli.,
A fls got R 0 manners. Ue ain,l no
eentlemun. He’s a introoder, don’t send
m no kard, nor axa interducsbun, nor
don’t knok at the frunt door, and nuver,
nuver thinx uv takiu ofl his hat. _
Fust thing you know hens m bed with
ybu and up your nose—tho what he
wants up thar is a mistry— and ne in
vites hisself to brekfast and sets down
in your butter thout breshin his pants.
ITe helps hisself to sugar, and meat,
and rnelasses, and bred, and preserves,
and vinegy, enoyteing, and dont wait
tor no invertashuu. He s got a goon
appytite, and just as sune eat one thing
a s anutjjer.
CONYERS, GEORGIA.: THUIHDAY. E EBRUAIIY 17, ISTG.
i aiut no use to challenge him foi tak
in liberties ; he kfepvs np a hostile kor
espondenCe with you. wither or not, and
shoots hisself at you like a bullit, and he
miver misses, miver. lie’ll kiss yore
wile 20 times a day and si tr. and zoo,
and ridikule you if you say a word, and
he’d rut her you’d slay at him than not,
ooze lie s a dodger uv thedodginist kind.
Every time you slap, you don’t slap him,
but slap yoself, aud he /fizzes and pints
tho hind leg of skorn at you till ho ag
grevates you to distrackshin.
He glories in Hghtin every pop on the
exact spot whar you druvhim from wio 1 '
pruves the mteiishun to teeze you. Do
not tell me he aiht got no mind ; he
knows what he is arfter. He’s got seuss
and too much uv it, tho he nuver went
to school a day- of his life except in a
sugar dish. lie’s a mean, milliguunt,
owdashus, premeditated cAs, Ilis inuth
er nuvei paddled him with a slipper in
her life. His mortals was niglictod, and
he lacks a good deal uv humility mitely.,
Heaint bashful a bit, ahd I doubts qt he
blushes oftiug. In fact, ho nuver whs
fotclj.ed up at all. He was born full
grown j he don't get pld nuther. Things
gits old; but he nuver gits ipd— and lie
is imperdeut and mischevus to the day
of hisdeth.
lie droops in cold weather, and you
kiu mash him on a winder-pane, but
you be jes put your finger in it. He
cams agin nex yeer, and a heap mo with
him. Taiut no use.
One fli to a family might do fur a
musement, but the go<Td uv so luauny
flize I bectog ef I kin see. lain youf
I have thort much about flize, and I
Ins notist how oftiug they stops in thar
develu-y to comb thar beds aud skrateh
thar noses with thiir forelegs, and gouge
thar arm-pits under tlugr wings and the
tops of thar wings With- hind legs, and
my kandid opinyun ar that flize is lowsy ;
the eeches all the time, is mjsurbul, and
that makes em bad tempered, and want
uther peeplo misurbul top.
Ef that aint the filosofy, I give it up.
Altho a fli don’t send iu his kard, he al
ways leaves one, and don’t like it. It
aint pritty ef tis round. He kah‘t make
a cross mark, only a ilot, and lie is always
a dottin whar thar aint no is. Thar’s
iio een,d to his periods, but he miver
cuius to a full stop. ,
.I’avtiss, bht’his iresiioo and wail
inpCTih I don't admire. His specs is the
only specs help fko eyes.
You c-an’t see thro urn, and you don't
want too.
I hate a fli.
Durfl' a fli.
Jeff. Davis’ Keply to Blame.
In a recent Liter to a friend, Air. D.re
bis speaking of Blaine's charge of South
ern inhumanity to Fcdeiai prisoners
says:
TKs foul accusation, though directod speci
alty against me, was no doubt intended, and
naturally must be the arraignment of the
South, by whose authority and in whose be
half n;y deeds were done- It may be presum
ed that tho feelings and the habits of the
Southern soldiers were understood by me, and
in that connection any fair mind would per
ceive in my congratulatory orders to the army,
after a victory in which the troops were moat
commended for their tenderness and. generosi
ty to the wounded and other captives, as well
as the instincts of the person who issued the
order as the knightly temper of the soldiers
to whom it was addressed. It is admitted
that the prisoners in our hands were not as
well provided for as we would, but it is claim
ed that we did as well for them os we eouhl.
Can the other side say as much ? To the hold
allegations of ill-treatment of prisoners by
our side, and humane treatment and adequate
supplies,by our opponents, itis only.necessary
to offer two facts:
First : It appears from the reports of the
United States War Department that, though
we had 60,000 more" Federal prisoners than
they had of Confederates, 6,000 more of Con
federal es died in Northern prisons.
Second : The want and suffering of men iri
Northern prisons caused me to ask for permis
sion to send out cotton and buy supplies for
them, The request was granted, but only on
condition that the cotton should be sent to
New-York and the supplies b 6 brought there.
Gen. Beale, now of St. .Louie, was authorized
to purchase and distribute the needful sup
plies. Our sympathy rose with the occasion
and responded to its demands, not waiting fqr
ten years, then to vaunt: itself, when it could
serve no good purpose to the sufferers, under
the mellowing influence of timeand occasional
demonstrations at the North of a desire for
the restoration of peace and good will.
Tho Southern people have forgotten much,
have forgiven much of the wrongs they bore.
If it be less so among their invaders, it is but
another example of the rule that the wrongdo
er is less able to forgive than he who has suf
fered causeles wrong. It is not, hpwever,
generally among those who- braved the haz
ards of battle that unrelenting vindictiveness
is to be found, the brave and generous and
ond gentle. It is tha skulkers of the fight,
the Blaines, who display their flag on nn un
tented field. They made no sacrifice to pre
vent the separation of the States. Why
should they he expected to promote the con
fidence and good v. ill essential to their un
ion?
safety of raiway travel—Charles
Ftancis Adams, Jr.’, has tuade a series
et investigations and compiled statistics
.showing that only One railroad passen
ger in TOOO.OOO is kilted, and only one
to !,500’0 )0 is so much as bruised. In
the year 1871 only one person was killed
on all the Massachusetts railroads, while
seventy-six were killed by accident in
the city of Boston.
! m m ®
The Cotton Mania.
'his proceeds from the idea that it
brigs ready money, and the more eot
touuado the more money- had. All
sun is true if there wus not a debtor
shef appended to the cotton account,
Bijjwhen cotton money lias to meet all
exposes, even to tho buying of bread
andmeat, and everything else required
Hi.dlhe balance is ma<le, wd see the ac
cent stands against tho farmer—the
(leb)r side is too large for tho credit
diet, the result, is in debt. The next
yean operations begin with debt added
to al supplies needed, all have to pe
boufit on credit, enlarging exponso no
com; against cotton account. Farming
undr srfcli a system as this ensnares
the line ruin that would undoubtedly
com upon tho man who, having his
wlioe capital in money, was living
abo? tbo inteaest, and drawing con
stanly upon tho principal to support
his xtravagance.
Charcoal for Sick Animals.
Nearly all sick animals become so by
irapoper feeding in the fi-st place.
Nin eases out of ten the digestion is
\yi-fkg. Charcoal is the most efficient
andrapid- corrective.
It will cure a majority of cases, if
proprly administered. An example of
its ues: The hired man came in with
the ntellegenee that one of Ike finest
co iv was very sick, and a ’kini neigh
bor u-oposed the usual drugs and pois
ons. The owner being ill and unable
to eiamine the cow, concluded that the
tvouile came-from overeating, and or
dord a teaspoonful of pulverized chare
eoalto be given in water. It was mixed,
placid in a j ..nk'boljlle,. the head turned
upward, and the water turned down-
wart In five minutes improvement
wasyisible, ami in a fe w‘hours, the ani
malwas in the pasUirp quietly grazing.
Ancther instance of equal success occur
red with a young heifer which had l>e„
cone badly bloated by eating green
appes after a hard wiud. The bloat
waejso severe that the sides \yere as
hail as a barrel. The old remedy, ax
otov v-vAim 7CVj‘KVii\ ; f' *▼. vAV* n
always caused coughing, and it did lit
tle good. Half a teaoupful of fresh
powered charcoal was givei. In six
hours all appearance ot the bloat had
gone, and the heifer was well,
Corn—Value of Deep Plowing.
There is nothing nibi'9 beneficial than
c'ose cultivation. Put on’y so much
land under cultivation that you can cul
tivate thoroughly. You will make more
grain to the acre, and will “put money
in thy pocket” by the result.
The value of deep plowing is mani
fested by the admirable consequences.
Western farmers, of great experience,
hold that the difference in a crop of
porn between slovenly and thorough
cultivation, even where stimulants can
not be conveniently or profifibly applied
is one-half, or twice as much from good
as frarn indifferent" treatment.
A St. Louis paper quotes some very
notable instances of these facts:
“In 1873, a Mr. Hudson raised On one
acre of ground on the “Oakridge Farm,”
in Amherst county, Virginia, 170 bush
els of white corn ; the fact being attest
ed by Mr. Fortune, a notary ot the
county. A copy of the “Virginia Far
mers’' Register/’ printed by Edmund
Ruffin, at Petersburg; thirty-five years
ago, has this sta'ement “Mr. Meggi
sou, of Albemarle county, was reported
by the county society to have raised 110
bushels of sound shelled corn on one
measured acre of ground, being river
bottom and thoroughly cultivated ; a
large white sort of a corn.” In the I)e-
partraent of Agriculture report for 1868
there is an authenticated statement that
Joseph Goodrich and Luther Page, of
Worcester, Massachusetts, each raised
111 bushels of shelled corn on one acre
of ground ; and the same report gives
instances in Ohio where ‘99 and 101
bushels per acre were raised. The
Rockbridge county (Va.) Society, at its
meetings in 1671, gave a detailed state
ment of the result of competition for the
premium for the largest yield of corn :
J, D. H. Ross raised On one acre 76
bushels, and on five acves 253 buseels ;
A. L. Nelson raised 91 bushels on one
acre, and 317 bushels bn five acres, and
G. W. Pettigrew raised 94 nasnels on
one acre, and 400 bushels on five acres.
The treatment in each case consisted ot
deep plowing from ten to fourteen
inches and the application ot home
made compost.
Too Much Trouble.
The other day two colored citizens
met on the walk near the City Hall, one
of them angrily exclai rued ; ■
‘Misser June's, if you doan pay dero
seven dollars, de law will be put on you
powerful hard.’
‘Now, doan be onreasonia’,’ replied
Jones, in a cajoling voice.
‘But you’s got money in de blank !’
shouted the first.
‘Yes, l know I cud gib a check ou de
bank,'but I’se got to get a blank check,
borrow pen’n ink, put on my specs,
write all' ober de check, go down dar to
’dentify you, fig ger up de loss ob inter,
es’, and probable while I w r as in de bank
someone ’ud be looking fur me oir de
street to hire me at four dollars a day.
Dese am de cheif reasons why I doan
! wautto pay de money for do next two
I weeks.,
C uuuiing and the Bird’.** Nest.
I can rememliQi' an incident in ray
childhood, which Inis given a turn to
my whole life and character. 1 found
a nest of bird* in my father's field
which held fqqr young ones. ’They had,
no dotVn ( n tnem when f first diseovtix
ed them. They onened their jifiFe
mouths ns if they \y,re hungry, and I
gave them soms erainbs which were in
my pocket. Every day I returned to
feed them. As soon as school was dono
I would run home for some bread, and
sit by the nest to sea them eat for an
hour at a timo. * * * *
They weie now feathered and almost
ready to fly. When I came one morning
I found them all cut up into quarters.
The grass round the nest was red with
blood. Their litto limbs were raw and
bloody. Tho mother was on thr ties
and the fatlier on the wall, mourning
for their young. 1 oried, myself, for I
was a child. 1 thought, too, that the
parents looked on me as the author of
their miseries, and this made ’me still
more unhappy. I wanted to undeceive
them. I wanted to sympathise with
and comfort them.—When I left the
field they followed mo with their eyes
and with mournful reproaohe**. I was
too young and tbo sincere in my grief
to make any apostrophes, lint I can
never forget my feelings. The impres
sion will never be worn away, nor can I
cease to abhor every species of inhu
manity towards inferior animals.— C'hun
ning s Menidirs.
Tne Distrks* in Nbw Enutand. —An
observing gentleman writing from one
of the most tavo' ed parts ot the State of
New Hampshire tit' the e'ditdr of the
Manchester Union, says: “Never before
within the past thirty years has the la
boring classes suffered so mil oh for want
of employment. In every town, in every
village ot considerable size men are trav
eling from place to plane making con
staut application lor work, and still there
is no work to lie found. MaYy of these
are good, honest men, who have' Men
turned oat of tfieir
places in factories and work-shops
because there is no demand lor the
goods they are producing. It is uncom
i uieti
! have more, something to carry nome w
their wife aud children, and when they
cannot obtain woik at any price, ifeeir
only alternative is to call on the town
for help, and the consequence is that
the per cent, ot pauperage is greater
than ever before known in this section
of our State.
A Clever Huso.
A Paris paper says: A gentleman
Was seated before the Cafe 11 iclie, when
a young artist passed with a.companion.
“I will bet yon,” said the artist to his
friend, ‘I will drink that gentleman’s cot
lee, and he will thank me for doing it.’
‘Mon are crazy.’
‘\ou will see.’
‘Yoy know him then.’
‘Gome and sue the proceedings for
yourself.’ * '
Veiy solemnly llwy approached the
gentleman.
‘Sir,” said the artist, I am an inspector
of the Board <4 Health. It I ask fora
cup tfiey will give, me without doubt a
very good cup, lor they know mo. You,
sir, whom they do not know, are served
like the rest of the world. )' G “-
permit me to taste your coffee ?’
‘Certainly,’ said the gentleman, ‘this
is very good, the government has great
care over the people, The police cm not
be too watchful over the public health.
The artist drank the coffee, and hav
ing finished it said politely, fthoy do
things properly at this cate ; this is ex
cellent coffee.’
He bowed, and left the gentleman to
pay for the coffee be had not had, but
profoundly grateful (or the care ot the
government.
Vituperation as a Fine Art.
The bitterness with which public men
assail one another is not a latterday fash
ion. From a recent publication, entitled
the “Memoirs of John Quincy Adams,”
examples of venomous criticism aud al
most diabolical diatribe are found upon
very many pages. The following illuss
trations are cited t
“In 1831, he charges upon Jackson,
the working up of a circumstantial fab
rication by practicing upon tho driveling
dotage ot a political parasite, in order to
‘qUiet the stings of his own conscience
lor the baseness of his ingratitude to
me.’ About the same time he calls such
editors of Jackson newspapers as Isaac
Hill, of New Hampshire, ‘electioneering
skunks.’ lie found in Littleton Waller
Tazewell, of Virginia, in 1829, ‘a never-
dying personal hatred of me, because I
once told him, at my own table, upon his
pertinaciously insisting that Tokay and
Rhenish were muoh alike to me in taste,
that I did not believe he had ever drank
a drop of Tokay in bis life. He had
provoked this retort by saying, a few
minutes before, ‘that he had never known
a Unitarian who did not believe in the
sea-serpent.’ 1 made him an apology,
some months afterwards, for the rudeness
of my speech, which he accepted: but
1 the shaft was sped barbed with truth,
| and it will rankle in his side to bis <ly
jrn, hour.'. Is not this delightful? In
1833, when Harvard College was going
to make Gen. Jackson a doctor of laws,
Mr Adams told President Quincy lie
would not go to the commencement to
witness tho disgrace of 'the college ‘in
conferiug hev highest literary honors up-,
on abarhamui who could not 'write a'
sentence of grammar, and hardly sign'
liis own name.’ He adds, that ‘time ser
ving and sycophancy are qualities of
all learned and scihrfifip mstitnfichia.'
It this is a fair epectmprr of, die “pure
eilsseduess" ot such men *s Mr. Adams,
in days not very far remote, ths.in.pre ro-'
cent exhibitions of our political cham
pions can no| fip sqt down ap a prppf of
tho degeneracy of the age ip/ which,
they live to wag tilth- tongue* linen
tiously.
■ hhmtill—aw■ . , #
COFFEE.
At the time Columbus discovered,
America, coffee had never boart known
or used. It only grew in Arabia or up
per Utopijj,. T.he discovery df ils'iufe as
ii Beverage is asdrlbed td tho
a monastry in Arabia, who. desirous of
preventing the monks from sleeping at'
thoir nocturnal services, them drink an
infusion of coffee, oil the reports df
shepherds, w ho observed that t'helr flocks
were more lively after browsing on the
fruit ot that plant. Its reputation spread
through the adjacent countries, and in a- *
bout two hundred years, ii had reacln-d
Paris, A single plant brought there in
1114, became the parent stock of all the
French coffee plantations in the VVest,
Indies. The Dutch introduced ip Jpvii
ami the East Indies, and the French and
Spanish all over South America and the
West Indies. The extent of the con
sumption now can hardly be realised.
The United States alorie annually con
suioe it at the cost, on its laiulbigf, of
tran fifteen to sixteen million dollars.
Professor Houghton of the Vpiver'Ay.
ofDublin has been investigating tb*
jeot of humane hangiiw i,e states that
Mr. Gibson,' —rgeon Ht Newgate, has
irequehtly seen the victim struggle tor
more than twenty minutes before becom
ing inanimate, and proceeds to ssiy V 1.
That the old system of taking the conv-
; A ,t j;,, l-*- iUn la Uilwinwm.poiiital,
i.vnlnmvnd or.il i'Altin(r
to the spectators whose doty it is to be
present. 3. That the object of an ef
fective execution by suspension should
bo th immodiate rupture of the spinal
column by the fall. 3. That the use of
a “long drop ’ is not only much prefer-,
blc from a humanitarian point ot'view,
but is the only method by which the de
sired object can He effectually attained.
4. That the short fait and position of
tho knot employed for So many yenrs
by Calcrafl are barbarisms which should,
cease to be permitted, 5. That the frac
ture of the spinal column can best be
instantaneously effected by placing the,
knot under the chin and allowing a fait
of at least ten feet. 0. That in the car
rying oat of a capital sentence care shmi
Id be exercised in the selection of a suit
able rope. In the execution of llenry
Wainwrig!it it would seem from the pub
lished accounts that these j>r inuiples were
adopted by Mai wood, the ex,ecutiwr,
and with perfect success, any} .the io*tU**
taneous rnptnre of the spine resulted ,
placing the knot under the culprit’? cln-n.
■ ■. } fvny:iffy** j
— ■
How They Fixed It.
A New Yorker while journeying tiie
other day, was recognized by another
citizen doing business near the Bow#y,
be being also away from home on busi
ness, and after a little preliminary con
versation, the first remarked s—
“Well, I hear that you had to make
an assignment.”
“Yes, dat is drew,” replied the
other.
“And your brother, over cn Chatham
street; he assigned too, didn't he V
“You zee it was shust like dia,” said
the Bowery man. “I vfias owing H
good deal, and Jacob vhas owiifg k
good deal. I makes over my stock to
Jacob and Jacob makes over bis stock
tome, and I do bis peesness and' ho
does my peesness, and detn vellerS vhas
was after money doan get Some!”
/f y/; : i '
A IffODEL STUDENT,
The Rev. Dr. Richie, of Edinbm r,
though a very clever man, once met with'
bis match. When examining a student
as to the classes he attended, said:
And you attended the class for math
matics?”
“Yes.”
“How many sitji has a circle?
“Two.” said the student.
“What are they?”
What a laugh in court the student,s
answer produced when he said, “An in
side and outside!’ • • . '
The doctor next inquired, “And you
attended the moral philosophy class;
also V
“Yes.’
“Well you Would hear lectures on
various subjects. Did you ever heaff
one on cause and effect?’
“Yes.’
“Give me an instance.’
“ A man wheeling a whoefbarrow.
The doctor then sat down and pro
posed no more questions.
iSTo. 30.