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IPMOIIPTIM unk On tlx month*, mjh months kToftopaptr low Decisions 1. Any person who takes a paper regular- ly from the pottcffice— whether dir* cUd to his name or another’s, or whether he has sab* aenbed or not— is tespomible (or the amount. 2. If a person orders hia paper discon tinned he mutt pay all arrearages, or the publisher nay con tin a* to send it until payment is made, and collect the whole amonat,whether the paper is taken from the office or not. S. The court* hate deoided-that refusing fa take newspapers or periodicals from the poatofflce, or removing and leaving them uncalled for la piimn facie evidence of in- natiotne! fraud. or THR HUMAN Midnight pe tl Not a round of aught Thiough tlte allont houao but the wind i I aat by tidying Are and thought Of.the dear, dead woman up-fttaln. irinplng yet; igh In'pein, A night o| team; for the gorty rain ***»*, hut the earc* W«re r 1. And the m0*» - looked ft*i»b, M tho With her lam a» white and yet. Ntbody with m» my watch to keep, But the friend of my hoeom, tho inan I lot And grief bus font him find aaleep In the chamber up hIhiTU. ' NoiioAy aim, in tb» cojmtry-pifcc All round, that know of my h*a t>efhle, • 'luethwgeM young pH. at with the Huphai-l Whu confm d hfr VrlWdWhedieU ^ !£r?A3H r-sl him V-yond a eprleat in of gentle „ f had" mov»d hliu' . Ifcir hiaJlpf trow wtdte, an 1 could otmcrTe, V. ff rntr ~ f I mt t>) thodTonry hearth aWliej ~ d I thought ot the | leniont dnyn of yore; • I raid, •• The muff of my llfo If gone; The woman I love ja no wore. “On her cold, dead boaom my portrait lice, Which neat to heart flie UMtyl to ..Haunting It o’er with her lender ■dU- When my laco was uot |be^e v , I ell ar und wllh nibi.lea Voneacb ruby For each pearl my eyca h kept I HE BUTLER HERALD. W. N. BENN3, JAMES D. RUSS. Editors. I ICT THc-KE IiE EIGHT.” Subscription, $1.50 in Advance. VOLUME IV. BUTLER, GEORGIA, TUESDAY. AUGUST 3, 1880. NUMBER 44. . /Otar the henft.pf t|ic dead—I And at once the Sweat broke ovrr my tiro “ W bo la robbing tbe eorpaet" I cried. Oiiposlte me. bv the ta|>er’a light, The friend of luy boaom, the man I lov Stood over the rorpea, and all na whlto— And neither of ua moved. d What do yon here, Say friendT" The man Looked flint at mo, and then at tho deed. "There la a portrait here." be brgan; .. I’thfc inffirthg angfi \hoi^vS»t out; Anctylaced mine ftero, I know.*', * This woman, she loved me well," said I. ” Amuth ago," mid my friend to me. " And In your throat," X groaned, " you lie!” He answered: Let ua sse.” ” Enough!" I retuibed; "let tho dead decide; And, whoever the portrait prove, Bln *iiall it he when tho enu«o la tried ‘ Whew D. ath law-ranged by Love.” We found the portrait there, in Ita place; Wo opened it In tho tapet’a ahlne: The gciua were all onnhangod; the lace Wes—neither hia nor mine. * One nail driven out another, nftatett Tho face of the portrait them,” I cried, la your friend’*. the Ripliaol-faced young priest, Who coalesced her when nho died." long while afore ye'll hov such a good Chance ag’in. Shell be sure to l>e alone for n couple of hours or eo—Hi. old liulyl no stormin' tliero tonight," ho added, i© lines a sudden twist rut Mar}’ lowed an inclination to stop before Mrs. Betsey Hill’s house; “we*ve other fish to fry now, old girl. ” When he reached home he drove the mare under the horso-shed and tied her there,-instead of unharnessing her as usual. Then lie entered the house and hastily swallowing tho scanty supper which the liired woman placed before him, douued his host clothes and drove off again at a rapid poca. ! "Law takes alive!” exclaimed the woman, amnzed. ‘‘The deacon’s got RUmthin on Iris mind, sure! It’s tho first time 1 ever knew him to disremember to ask a blessin’.” ■» • Ever siuce tho death of his wife Dea con Pinch had loftkeu on Miss Keziah as her probable successor, for years he had gazed with covetoua eyes on the fine Mead farm with its substantial build ings, but ho never could screw his courage up to the point of facing the knocking St tho door of Mrs. Betaoy Hill’s little brown house, and the worthy milliner was overjoyed at the opening of the prospect before her. But the of the sudden vise in Weptern lands hey small posses- nce by the side . her well-tilled barns, and her 1 dollars, his matrimonial instant entered the THE DEACON’S WOOING. The sun had disappeared behind ‘Clio bills of New Bethany, and the lingering light on thp moiuitoiu tops Whs 'Chang ing from' rose to purfilo, when Deacon Pinch stopped his melancholy sld more in front of the village Tiostoffice. It wos Saturday night, the only time when Now Bethany roused itself from its lethargy and hhowed any signs of life and energy. •The rt?st of tho week it drqw£c£ ami lan guished after the fashion ofsniall corni* try towns remote from railway and man- umeturing centers. 1 '‘Whoa, Mary’ Jane!»?said tlio deacon with junnecessory emphasis, throwing the reins on the -mare’H broad back and springing to the ground. sheer force of liabtt: iX-ten years’ vice with the deacon hail made her per fectly familiar with the accustomed rounds of stopping places. v Wednesday night ft was prayer meeting; Sunday; the church service; and Saturday night, invariably the postoffioe, and, as a late variation, on after pause at the house of Mrs. Betsey Hill, tho milliner, who for a quarter of a century had supplied the women of New Bethany with head-gear fearfhlly and ^onderfully dinary ^d^h^penedl" "Heard the news—eh, deacon?’’ asked one of the village loungers. The deaooa looked up inquiringly. "Mias Keziah’s had of luck.” "Ita been nothing streak of luck ever e’ returned the deaco; beet farm in town* interest isn’t lack, is.” - „ "Yes; but this is soihfthiHg common. You used to knptehfec.l venture never for diaton’s head. "Tho way afore ye is plain and straight as a pipe stem, Solo- iuurjnmva, rubbing tho fWikus Afthis.hafuls together, as he walked towards Miss KczianS side door. "Women is mostly nliko—-eager an’ wil lin'to embrace matrimonial opportuni ties. They’ll snap at an offer like \ hungry trout at a worm. She lias got the money, and I hev got the prominence and influence; that’s a p’int not to bo overlooked; And deaoonB isn’t to be had every day. Put her money and my in fluence together, and I rather guess we’ll stand about top o’ tho heap in New Bethany." Miss Keziah was sitting by the table, knitting as usual. She had just begun to paiTow for the too of the stocking, when a step sounded on tho walk. Sho threw down thUf-stocking ai door, and hbldfijg the lamg her head, her to’bs rested J ; L shiny Black broadcloth. U W< slio ejaculated, and thou, her reoeption had been hSr bio, she lowered the lamp kindly: . £ * s "Conic in,-deacon—come Hi. •/ "Thank ye, tluuikyo; T dou’t mina. if I dew." "Take a seat, deacon.”*- , , ■ ... .' "Thank ye; I don’t mii*u£J*tew.’t The .doacon siuwoyod tho attraclivi foom, wlucli, with its'clioety- fire and Comfortable cushioned clisbw, soenvxl .a veritable narailiso in comparison wiitlw hia untidy ill-kept homo. Ito; .placed his hat on the floor liesidehis chair, display ing liis mighty gray locks ingeniously plastered over the top of Ida bowl so - to cover as much of tin? bald surface possible. Then there-was Albngpause. '/‘Anything going on, deacon?" asked JftsH iCeziah, resuming ‘"jier knitting. Shto was greatly puzzled to account for those Sunday clothes. "Nothin’ within tlitf'rango of my. servation. There wof’t lie inUch a# on now till lection 'tiipo; thmgsT pretty lively then." . «*.-> - v .,"•« ,, "Want to buy any hay #, Hrw year?! S d Miss Keziah. "Mine jift exTJfi Ine season. My hired w*\x&jai\n Ahafl^est yield in town. > Ideclare your farm doep beat all! Iieel kimlAf rigged like wfi6n T tlptk the best farm in town is managed by n woman.” >. ?.<■ Miss Keziah smiled praciousty, and the deason drew his chair a little nearer the hostess. "It must be a great load for ye to carry alone. Such a larg*- farm is a tremen-jous responsibility foi * lono wojaau." "Oh, I don’t mind it; it keeps me pfjjpar.bnsy.” Tne deacon hitohod his chair along a few inches farther. "Ye’d ougbter hev’ a brothei* or cousin, dr some relative like, tho Lord so wills it, altho’ I admit, deacon, that ils pleasanter to have some ono to keep out company." "That’s jest it; ye hev hit the nail squnr’ on the head! It’s pleasanter to have , company in our sojourn on this mortal earth.” The deacon seized his chair with both hands, and by a circuitous line of hitch ing placed it within three feet of Miss Keziah’s table. " You’re a forehanded woman, Alias Keziah; I’m a man of prominence and influence in the commu nity; it Hocros to mo that it would be a yood tiling if we would Walk haud-iii- liand thro’ this vale of tears. Providence leems to p’int its finger that way." The deacon was thinking at that very mo ment of tho money he would save by a thrifty malinger, hko Miss Keziah, in tho place of his inefficient, wasteful rod womun. Miss Kcsiali was dumbfounded. She dropped her knitting, and the bull of yarn rollod across the floor. Mercy!" ’ o finally gasped. " I’ll make vo a flrst-rato husband, and ye’ll make me a good wife. We’ve been members of the same church for thirty year’ or inoro, and we’vo been members of tho spiritooal family, we’ll now be members of the same nurnan family,” Miss Keziah straightened herself up in her high-booked chair and drew in her chin, while her voice rang out shrill and clear. " I rather guess it’ll take two to make that bargain. ” A second look at her aged admirer, who was edging up to her with a sheep ish simper, exasperated tht old woman beyond control. *' Tho old fool 1” she said wrathfully. The color camo into the deacon’s thin checks,- and he started to his feet, look ing anxiously toward the door, as ii med itating a busty retreat.' But tho yam was wound around his boots and he was forced to remain. Miss Keziah likewise arose, and fold ing her hands primly in front of her, re marked grimly: "When you first began your talking I hadn’t the least idea what England's Sunday. I am deeply sensible of the many na tional sins of my own country. We have abundant cuuse for humiliation. The strifes nud divisions of Christians —the quantity of semi-Romanism and skepticism tolerated in our own ranks— the bitterness and lUiKcrupuloUsnesa of political factions—the commercial frauds among the middlo classes—tho gambling and tho luxury of tho upper ten thousand—the drunkenness of the lower half million—all these sins, I am well aware, cry against us to heaven. But still, after all, in a fallen world like this, things must lie measured by com parison. It would be ungrateful if we did uot thank God for what we have. Where in tho world will you find so much preaching of real gospel—so much circulation of the Bible and sound religious literature—so much monoy and labor bestowed on efforts to do good o much caro for life and property- much thought for the siok and the poor and tho afflicted—so much liliorty, and yet so much obedience to law— so much outward morality—so much family purity—whero, I ask any one looking at the map of the globe, where will you find so much as in our own country? No doubt there are plenty of abuses and defects among us. I neither deny, oxtenuate nor palliate them. But at any rate wo have noth ing to compare with the Nihilism of SOUTHERN NEWS. v jail at Chattanooga will cost child for Miss Wa’al. when, old Keziah took the form property, and rovin’ turn of mind, and of personal invested them in turned out wutlili cent he putin. Folks always him for bein’ so foolish and hasty, — they say grief and mortification like has tened his death. Wa’al, it turns out they have put a railroad square thro’the linds, and ito sent real * estate way 1 up, nobody knows whe»e.‘ iMiss Keziah’s been of- fefe^nigb onfcp $8,000 for the lands, and they say she will e^flir so mbch tooiv if she only holds on. * - "You don’t mean it?” .. . •"I dew; it’s as trub'flA kcriptura.” "She’ll hpld out, never fear,” said the deacon; "and I hold it to bbour bounden duty as neighbors to advise her to that of lingering as usual for the village gossip—for New Bethany 1 office on Saturday -Right, answered purpose of a weekly paper—the de seemed in a great hurry to get home It was the night of the choir rehearsal, and in driving dv the church he saw Mhry^ MiM Kerb’s nieoe, go ing up tht/tol* He suddenly whipped up his sleepy old more and drove home at a breakneck rate <d meed. ‘My shoulders are, plenty stronj !turned Miss Keziah, < good ;hatu}te ' !’m glad to show folks that therb who are good for something be- ■““-"oddymgjHiitattling.” * answered the deacon, "we to your valley and worth, honor to your sex. You’xq right and shinin’ beacon min’ and vain-minded wo- world;” and the speaker f d at the conclusion of this oratorial flourish. hitch, hitch, hitch went tho Keziah-ward. "Don’t vou lonely at spells,” he asked 'gly. P Keziah glanoed suspiciously at ipidly advancing chair. $he drop- 1 her knitting and wohfrto fhe fire and piled up the blazing sticks of wood. Then she camo baak to the table and sot her chair on the farther side of it, thus putting a barrier between her and her visitor. ‘Tm never lonely, deacon; jfienty to do is the best medicine for lone- . $ut woman is a tender, dependent creator’. Woman’s a vine, [here the deacon took up hia weekly prayer-meet- - ing drawl], and needs suthbi’ to cling to when the troublous, desolatin’ waves and winds of affliction and sorror roll her.” "Stuff and nonsense!” exclaimed Miss Kesiab, with a contemptuous sniff, shouldn't have expected that a man of you* sense, deacon, would repeat such silly trash. I have no patience with tho people who axe always talking as if women oouldn’t stand alone, and needed propping up like a rag doll that ha4n’t any liaokbone. I’m no vine—or such creeping, heM— thing. 1 con. tell vrat JeP, as far as possible in T ?»u stand Cone as well as anybody^ Nutrition of t^^stem. you were driving at, I thought you were hinting about Betsey Hill, and wanted to take me into your oonfidonoe. I never dreamed that you meant mo. Why, I supposed every one iu town knew that I wouldn't give up my freedom for tlio best man living. Betsey Hill iB a I iious, likely woman; she’ll make a good lomo for you and sho needs a homo her self. ” Tlio deacon was completely withered, and Miss Keziah continued: "If you’ll little livelier, deacon, and your lots and put s, and mow down ■there's no earthly shouldn’t look jis said anything to leocon, I hope you’ll f ou are all tangled untangle it.” nding the yarn from feet; gave Miss Keziah further remark: "One word junto, demean; have you heard about the WeAtomiiAihi?” - Thtv dcacou wished ho was anywhero out of tlio raUgb of those merciless black Wcsl •’ • 1 ’ r "I—think Fvoharrd tell suthin’ about 'em,” he replied meekly. "T thought sol- I thought so!” ex claimed Miss Keziah, savagely. "Well, deacon, thbso lands rightfully belong to tqy nieqo, Mary; I only hold them as her ?}iardian.” \ Tho deacon began to look upon his joction as u blessipg in disguise, for with out. tlio Western lands Miss Keziah’s at- /toigt Jo'nS; ^corned tamo compared with those of milq* bD'lp-oyod, buxom Widow ’Hill. "A can trust to ye never to flop this?” lie asked, timidly. rMl "I bJioH hot mention it Now, follow my-adVice, doacon; mako sure of Betsey !EuH before another week goeH by. You fiftve my good ! wishes. Heo to this at once." * * , ".Thank yo; thank yo; I don’t mind if I dew." ” The good woman followed her crest fallen visitor to the door. As a sudden gust of cold night air put -out the. light, she said: ‘ ‘The air iH snapping to-night; havq a frost, eh, deacon?" Aik] the dfheomfited deacon felt that be bad lieeii uipped by something sharper tliau a frost Curability of Consumption. The best physiqians are coming more to acknowledge that tubercular consump tion con bo cured. Dr. Carl Booth, a physician emi nent in the ’ yegulai" professipn, claims that he is able to cure sixty per cent, of " 'a at all stages; and that it is :st tiio disease in ita early stage, fits aim is to secure five poinla; 1. To get the muscles which eoutiql .tho actiapt.of the lungfl iu such a condi tionHiattoey can draw the air forcibly into thA finest passages, t|iqs clearing tho lungs of all plUogm and pus, and re-es- tablitthing capillrfry circulation and respi- ratiou in the affected parts, and stimu lating the activity of tne air-cells gen- erally. # '. ‘ 2. To establish.. perfect digestion, similation, auij _ does uot seek what Uic most lUtritiouB gci-te l fodei, patient can mosi yilato. y \ 3. To heal t^e ing them into mass. He seci iu salts of limi such as lime am acids, such oxidation of effe! 4. To increflhe cells. This tlio patients as possible, of id Ijodily exercise. norant superstition and Sunday bull fights of Spain. And why is it ? llow is it that hu man nature in our little island is under so much restraint, and develops a less amount of corruption than human nn- tnro in other lauds? I answer boldly that one great causo of tho difference is our English Sunday. Look at a Sun day in Loudon, with its 4,000,000 of in habitants. See how the immense ma jority of shops through miles and miles and miles of streets are shut up and business suspended. See how postofllee, and liunks, and exchanges, and law courts, and theaters, and museums, and picture galleries are all closed. See what hundreds of churches and chapels and Sunday-schools are opened, and what myriads of people attend them in spite of the attractions of river and rail, and then turn to any groat continental metropolis—to Paris, Madrid, Naples, Vienna, Berlin—and mark how Sunday is observed in tltbm. Mark the extent to which God’s holy day is given up to military reviews, to races, to bull-figus, to theater-going, to dancing, to con certs, to pleasure-seeking of every Bort. to everything, in short, excepting God, Mark all these things, and learn ono grand reason why the standard of re ligion is so muen highor in oiu - own country, with all ita sins, than it is else where. There is an inseparable con nection between the observance of tho Lord’s day and the prosperity of true religion. Voltaire was quite right when lie said that he could never succeed in destroying Christianity unless ho de stroyed Sunday, it is the English Sun day wliich makes England what it is.—■ London letter. A Crow Convention* James Hillman, a respeotablo and well- to-do farmer, living between Orwigsburg and Laudingville, is the authority for the following remarkable story: Mr. Hill man lias on liis farm fifteen acres of tim ber, which is joined by two other pieces of woodland of about the same size. One morning Mr. Hillman’s attention wa* attracted by largo flocks of crows wliicL camo from tlio South, and as if by common oouseut Hottled in tho woods mentioned above. During the ensuing threo days the crows in the woods were re-enforced by now arrivals, until several thousand were present, and the noise they made attracted the attention of people for miles around. Sentinel crows were posted on the fences around tho woods and through them the approach of a man or boy was quickly communicated to the body of crows. The crows remained to this patch of woods until Monday morn ing, when they all left about the same time taking their oourse of flight in a northwestern direction. They left the vrooda in flocks containing two or threo hundred each at intervals of five or ten minutes, and, the departure of ono of these flocks was the signal for a loud ono prolonged cawing on the part of those remaining behind. They all departed in toe same direction, and the last flock took to wing about an hour after tho first staited. Since then there has not been a crow seen in the neighborhood. Mr. Hillmau says that during their stay in his woods, the orows did not commit any depredations on the neighboring corn fields, and but few of them even ventured beyond the confines of the timber.— PotUville Miner*' Journal. “Jocklng wl f Deeflculty A story is told ot to c i to professional merry- Scotch nowspaper editor which is almost pathetio m its that my patient*, go^but in-rain, auow, dampness, and even in night 1 air and dow. I have had no instiw ‘ ^ years where » patient crul such exposure. I only guard strong headwinds and ■ extreme weather.” 5. To prevent all the nervous‘force, and to wide ai ... men. This editor was also the proprietor of a very well-known Scotch journal, and he was doubly interested in tho success of bis i|Biture. But he knew that there was orieYlefoct in the print, a fatal defect in a Scottish newspaper. Tho Jiawbce Iras too solemn, too earnest, not suffl- cifatly Akittish to suit a gay, withinking 'jRO . The worthy editor looked ndkirn, and at last discovered that anted in the person of a funny sub- He then boasted himself in the of his friends, saying: _*ve found in my new sub-editor a •man just overflowing in natural lid humor. Now this is a grand ig fbr the paper, because, for mv part, >nf£ps that I jock wi’ deeficuity.”— 'aturday Review. A Bnddhtat Fable. Bqdhisat was a tradesman who went from.milage to village to dispose ot his wailrt^ One day when at the house of a earpoater, whose head was bald like a emtoet porringer, a mosquito alighted tftlreon; and toe carpenter culled to liis lXfc\$ho was near, to drive it away. Tho x for tois purpose, i insect, but split his The i $20,500. Chattanooga Inis two saloons for every 1,000 inhabitants. The populatioilof Alexandria, Va., has increased forty-six in ten years. Sherman is the lending cotton, horse and hay market in Northern Texas. Every farmer in North Georgia says that he will make a good cotton crop. An Alabama man has collected 200 mocking birds nud taken them North for sole. The population of New Orleans is 215,239, an increase of 17,328 during tho last decade. In Atlanta subscriptions are being made to a fund of $20,000 to build u female college there. A negro in Nashvillo named a child Revelations, becauso he was the last in tho family. The population of Richmond is less than has generally been supposed— probably not over 65,000. The City Directory of Macon puts tho population of the city at 29,000, while the now census makes it only 13,000. Op the sixteen suicides that have been reported from Nashville during the last thirty months, fourteen resulted from poisoning. The Howard Association at New Or leans has just elected officers for tho en suing year. The association is in good financial condition. Only $15,000 are now needed to com plete the sum required to fit up a house for tho McCormick tolosoopo at tlio Uni- verity of Virginia. The smelting works at Charlotte, N. C., will be put in ojieratiou again this week. A ear-load of silvor ore from Nevada will be smelted. Euder G. O. Burnett, too first Gov ernor of California, is still living. He is a native of Nashvillo, aud is now iu his seventy-fourth year. Harvest bauds were very scarce in Clarke County, Va., this summer, and were known to work on Sunday, as well os through tho week, at $5 per day. The Rev. Thos. Dawson, the oldest Baptist minister in South Carolina, died in tho ninetieth or ninety-first year of his age at Pendleton, after a lingering illness. Selma, Ala., is talking of building water-works. It is thought that $45,000 will lie enough to complete such a sys tem ns will meet the wants of the entire city. The gioss earniugs of the Augusta cotton factory for twelve mouths ending Juno 12 were $157,471.28. Tho factory pays a quarterly dividend of two aud one- half per cent. Memphis 1ms at present about twenty- three miles of sewers. No complaints hove been heard as to their proper work ing, aud tho general verdict is that tho system iu vogue is n perfect success. Aijjt. Gen. G. T. Beauregard, of Louisiana, has contracted with n New Orleans manufacturer to furnish arti ficial limbs to all Confederate soldiers who ore citizens of that State at tlio present time. In Texas a herder offered to surrender to the Sheriff in case he should be pro vided with a square dinner. This was refused, and in the fight that took place three men were killed, two wounded and the herder escaped. Gen. Rodert Toombb is one of tlio best farmers in Georgia. He made this year 350 bushels of white rust-proof wheat on eleven acres of land. Ho gave 100 bush els, worth ten dollars a bushel, to tho State for distribution among the farmers of Georgia to sow for the next crop. In Charleston, ns well as elsewhere, the census enumerators failed to find os m*nycitizens os the directory canvass ers. The census gives a total this year of 49,901—whites, 21,248, and colored 27,784—wliicli is an ihcronse of 897 since 1870. Sholes’ directory for 1879 con tains a census of the city, which places tho total population at 52,185. The Municipal Gas Manufacturing Company has lieefi organized at Charles ton with a capital of $350,000. Tlio company only awaits the favorable action of tho City Council on the petitions of themselves and over threo hundred largo gas-consumers and tax-payers, praying that permission to open tho streets lie granted, to enter into contracts for the manufacture of tho necessary machinery and pipes, so as to Lave their works in operation early next year. An immense raft, consisting principally of walnut logs, has reached New Orleans. Tliero are 2,500 walnut logs, some of which are six feet in diameter, which were cut along tho banks of the White and St. Francis Rivers, in Arkansas. The raft is 400 feet long and 208 feet wide. The walmit logs lining too heavy to float, they are kept on tho level of tho water by 500 cypress logs. Tho logs are to be sent to Connecticut by rail, tho freight charges being less by that route than by steumers. Hale and Andre. Tho name of Nathan Hale—unfortu nately too little familiar to the present noble act of self-forgetfulness, mado its impression in the days of the Revolution, wherever the circumstances became known, we ore assured by some thing besides tradition; and since that time it has never failed to touch the heart or excite the admiration of writers who have had occasion to repeat the story. Jared Sparks, the historian, after describing, in his " LL . and Treason of Arnold,” the unhnppy business aud fate of Andre, recalls the youth in the Ameri can camp who met a similar death lie- fore him, and pays a grateful tribute to his character. " Where," ho asks, in closufl$ "is tha memento of the virtues, the patriotic sacrifice and the early fate of Hale? Tt iH not inscrilied in marble; it is hardly recorded in books. Let it bo the more deeply cherished in tho hearts of his countrymen.” Nor less ap preciative is the earlier remembranco of President Timothy Dwight, who refers to him ns the "bright and generous” Hale, and in the common epic of that period thus describes his tosteH and qual- i’ living fliroe hi* bonotn gl path hln tet . *ce, th« rial _ _ In duty Ami, In danger calm an v [lowed, ct abode; The pride of peace friend* unchanging, and Although Hale suffered in tho year 1776, and from the centennial stand point it may appear somewhat late to bring him to mind, it is to lie noted that the recollection of his fate was very strikingly revived four vears after, or just a century ago, by tne capture and execution of Maj. Andre in connection with tho Arnold infamy. 8hould that event, which in 1780 profoundly inter ested both Englishmen and Americans, lead to any expressions ot sympathy during the present year, or suggest a historical review or "anniversary" of the episode, tho incident of 1776 must necessarily be coupled with it. Tbe fortune of the British officer wiw in many aspects affecting, but it did not stand alone. Hardly had he been captured liefore tbe nearly-forgotten execution of Hale, ns a spy* was recalled to American offi cers, and Andre himself remembered it. If their coses differed in certain points, and it was possible for Andre to enter a plausible justification of liis movements, where Hole hiul none whatever to plead, tho two victims, on the other liand, bore this resemblance to each other, that both were young officers, beloves by their companions in arms, favorited with their respective commanders, edu cated, brave, and each anxious to be of essential service, tho one to his sover eign, the other to his cause. From 1780 their names have thus been closely associated. Their fate was hard but inevitable, and justified by tho noeessary rigor of military law; and for each and lioth there always have lieen, on either side of tho water, inany deep lympatliies felt.—He, " Harper's Mapazine. j PASSING SMILES. I The man who was stage-struck had the 1 driver arrested. When a man is climbing the ladder of fame he likes rounds of applause. A place for everything, and every thing iu its place—the baby’s mouth. | In the Salt Lake City | flats appears this sign: .‘Ring tho top bell for the oldest wife. ’’ The woman who marries does well, but tho woman who does not marry does better nine times out of ton. Two Bridgeport children playing with . 1 a eat, pulled it so violently by the legs as ' to kill it. It must havo been a very cheap j cat j A Df.rut farmer sat down on a piece of i hot iron in a blacksmith shop, aud on j rising broke a hole in the ceiling.—Han- buruXcws. "Why is Hymen always represented ns bearing a torch?" asks the Boston Post. That’s easy enough. Its a hint ns to who shall build the fires. In concluding an article on tho last coni crop an Alabama editor remarked: "We havo ou exhibition ill our sanctum a magnificent pair of ears.” A family of young lathes who reside in this city so often entertain their com pany on the front stoop that they have gained the title of the step-sisters. It is said there are now 200,000 Chris tians in China. If they are real Chris tians, China compares favorably wj^li this country.—New Orleans Picayune. A prominent writer of rhetoric says: "A lic.n word learned and correctly used is nil acquirement to be proud of. The usufmet of his hiaplnsm lies in the differ entiation thereof. An Ichthyophagous Club has been started ill New York. It is calculated to min the reputation of any husband who goes home lute at night and tries to tell where he has lieen. A compounder suys food and medicine are most perfectly combined iu his cele brated bitters. They will lack tho ele ments of popularity, however, if they do uot contain n drink. The brilliautSophie Arnold, when she heard of. a certain diplomatist that hod been eaten by the- wolves, exclaimed, brutes! Hunger must indued be a terrible thing!" The number of onc-nnned young men on driving out with young ladies tlicEe summer evening* is truly appalling. An tidier at our elbow says that one arm arinbly lost during an engage- lent. At a camp meeting, lately, a venerable Bister began tbe hymn: "My soul lie on thy guard; ten thousand foes arise." She begun too high. "Ten thousand,” sho screeched and stopped. "Start her at five thousand!" cried u converted stock broker present. A traveler was badly hurt in a rnil- roiwl accident—two rilw broken and other injuries. He went to tbe office to com plain. "What!" cried the office clerk, "you want to make a row about so small a matter? Not a month ago twelve of our passengers were killed, and we didn’t even hear a word of complaint from any of them." A small boy of Batli, Mo., hud just gone to bed, when he began to dream about cows. Some slight noise woko him up aud lie said, "Mamma, I saw some cows. ’’ "Where?” she asked. " Up there,” said lie pointing to tlw ceiling. His mother remarked that that was a queer place to see cows, and tho little follow got slightly angry and said, "Well, 1 guess they could bo angel cows, couldn’t they?” Each rspiratory duct is one-fpurth in length, which will mako igate length of the whole about The exasperated owner of a corner store in Augusta, Me., has put up a sign vwulino' • “Wanted, the ten lar.iMflt man The Art of Not Rearing. The art of uot hearing should be taught in every well-regulated family. It is fully ns inlportont to domestic hap piness us* a cultivated ear, for which so much money and time ore cx\iended. There are so many things which it is painful to hear—very many which, if heard, will disturb the temper, corrupt simplicity and modesty, detract from contentment and happiness—that every one should lie educated to take in or shut out sounds, according to their pleasure. If a man falls into a violent passion and calls us all manner of names, at the first word we should shut our ears and hear no more. If in our quiet voyage of life wo find ourselves caught in one of those domestic whirlwinds of scold ing, we should shut our ears as a sailor would unfurl liis sails, and, making nil tight, scud before the gale. If a hot and restless man begins to inflame our feelings, we should consider what mis chief these fiery sparks may do in a magazine below, where our temper kept, and instantly close the door. If, as has been remarked, all the petty things said of one by heodless or ill- natured idlers were to be brought home to him, he would become a mere walk ing pin-cushion, stuck full of sharp marks. If we would lie happy, when among good men wc should open our ears, when among bad ifleu shut them. It is not worth while to hear what our neighbors say about our children, or what our rivals say about our busi ness, oar dress or our affairs. This art of not hearing, though un taught in the school, is by no means un- practioed in society. We havo noticed that a well-bred woman never hears a vulgar or impertinent remark. A kind of discreet deafness saves one from many insults, from much blame, from not a little connivance in dishonorable con versation.— United Presbyterian. Mon A Laughing Animal. Man is said to be the only animal that can cry, and yet he is not really a crying creature. Ho is a laughing and smiling creature. The hours which bring tears do not come very often. Some firesides see ten or twenty years in which no ono has cause for weeping. Many hundreds and thousands meet with no sorrow for a quarter a century. The days on which man cries are few compared with all the days of his life. Man is an animal that can cry, but he is most perfectly a crea ture that laughs. Not many, days pass that bring no pleasant smiles to the ma jority. There is a column of laughter in the Anily newspaper. The light dramas of a pure and ingenious quality draw large audiences, while painful tragedy is less popular, because all mankind would rather laugh than cry. It ought to be nil a priori argument in favor of life’s intrinsic sweetness and worth that man comes up into it with his fuco beaming vfith smiles, and this smile widens out os years pass, and the dear old father laughs and plays with children, and ouo merri ment like one eloctricity thrills the heart of infant and of patriarch. To RKMoxf iron mold, mb the spot Uk a little oxalic acid, or salt*of lemon Let it remain a few well in dear water.. Almost a Defeat. A gentleman who came over the Cum berland Valley railroad, a few vt-ars-ago, ou u train that had a special ear with Grant, the then President, on board, tells an anecdote. There was no smok ing-ear attached, and the gentleman stood on a platform desperately smoking a cigar ho had bought at a way station. Ho noticed tho President occasionally looking that way, and finally a railroad official came out nud said the General hml run out of cigars—that he had lieen envying the man ou tho platform for some time, and had at last begged him to go out and see if ho hail any more ci- { ;ars. Now,'the gentleman was only too mppy—first, to accommodate the Presi dent of tho United States, and, second, to get rid of one of tlio worst cigars he over smoked. With this warning lie sent iu liis remaining weed. Tho General ac knowledged the courtesy by removing his lint, and bit the end off of tho cigar, lighted it and looked happy. Ho hou taken but one or two puffs, however, when he began to look queer. The man ou the platform watched him with renewed interest He saw him remove tho cigar and gaze thoughtfully at one end, then tlio other. Then ho put it back and took another pull. Then he removed it again, turned it in his hand and looked it carefully over again. Then ho smelled it Then ho coughed gently and looked nt the man on tho platform, who was gazing innocently across the fields. Then he looked out of the cur window, as if to see where he might throw it without injuring any body. He changed liis mind, though, sighed, took a desperate grip on the stogy with his teeth, and, when last seeii by the giver, was still pulling away. A Famous Clown. Few men iu his profession had less of the circus man and the clown about him outside of the ring than James Cooke, the leaper, tumbler, rope-walker, clown, and ling-master, and who died not long ago. He was slender, medium- sized, and erect, with close-cut, gray hair brushed back from a well-shaped fore-• head, well-cut features, steel-gray eyes, and a short gray mustache. He dressed with core, in clerical black, and a white necktie added to his clerical apjiearance. His words were carefully chosen, and he ■poke delilieratoly and thoughtfully. He looked and acted like a gentleman al ways. He was a religious man. His son, 17 years old, is studying for the priesthood, in the Santa Clara College, in San Fronoisco, and a daughter is at school in a convent near that city. " He was a perfect gentleman," said Mr. Nathan, one of tlio proprietors of Barnmu’s circus, where for the last throe years of his life Mr. Cooke was equestri an manager. "He never used an oath, and he never permitted himself to talk ungrammatically. He seemed always try ing to improve, and to impinve all about him. If any of tlio men in tho ling used bad lnnguago, ungrammatical language, I mean, he would reprove them, but in such a way that they would not take offense, and could only love him the more for the interest he took in them. Ho urged the boys to read the papers, and to study when they could. As a clown he was very good; Hliakspearenn, of course. He was diguifled, graceful and witty, and studied hard to invent new things.’’ The weight of the heart is from eight to twelve ounces. It boats 100,000 times in twenty-four hours. The pupil of the » ye bus to bo lashed.