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A COUNTRY Til A NR S GIVING.
Ay, go ml man, close the great barn tloor
The melloxv harvest time is o'er:
The earth has given her treasures meet
Of golden corn and hardened wheat.
You and your neighbors well have wrought.
Ana ol thasummer’s bounty caught;
Won from her srail s and from her tears
Muon goods, perhaps, for many years.
You cornea tribute now to par—
The bells proclaim Thanksgiving Day.
Well have you sown, well have you reaped:
Ana of the riches you ha ye heaped. j
You think, perhaps, that you will give |
A part, that others, too, may live. j
But if such argument you use.
Your niggard bounty I refuse.
No gifts you on the altar lay
In any sense are given away.
Do! rings from Heaven a voice abroad:
“Who helps God's poor doth lend the f.ord.'*
What is your wealth? ne'd have you know
To have it, you must let it go.
Think you the hand by Ho iven struok cold
Will yet have power to clutch Its gold?
Shrouds have no pockets, do they say?
Behold, I show you then the way :
Wait not till death shall shut the door.
But send your cargoes on before.
Bo! he that giveth of his hoard
To help God s poor doth lend the Lord.
To-day, Yonder my brethren—do not. wait;
stands Dame Kelly's gate;
And would you build a mansion fair
In Heaven, send your lumber there.
Each s.t ! ck that on her wood-pile Ilea
May raise a dome beyond the skies;
You stop the rents within her walls,
And yonder rise your innrblo halls;
For every pane that stops the wind
There shineth one with jasper lined.
Your wealth is gone, vour form lies cold
But in the city paved with gold
Your hoard is held In hands Divine;
It bears a name that marks it thine.
Behold the bargain ye have made;
With usury the debt is paid.
No moth doth eat, no thieves do steal,
No suffering heart doth envy feeL
Bing out the words: Who of his hoard
Doth help God's poor doth lend the Lord!
Go get vour cargoes under way:
* The bells ring out Thansgiving Dayl
A MEMORABLE THANKSUITING.
Thanksgiving xveek Gates xvas always a
busy xveek at the homestead, but
it seemed to 1 tear that it was busier this
year than ever. She couldn’t quite un¬
derstund it, either, for as they Sunday were
coming home from church on
she heard her mother say to Aunt Mar
garet, xvith a little break in her voice,
that she had “no heart for Thanksgiv- and
ing this year.” "they Dear knew why,
she thought would have a sorroxv
ful Thanksgiving Thanksgiving, all. or, perhaps, no
at
But Tuesday mo. ning there could be
no do. bt (hat they xvere to have Thanks
giving th s year, for there xvas xvhat
Tiptop called a “bonfire” made in tlio
great brick oven in the kitchen, which,
since Dear's remembrance, was opened
and heated only mounted during Thanksgiving that
wee!;. Tiptop a chair so
he could see into the oven, and shouted
“Fiie!” and danced in ecstasy till, for¬
getting that he had only a chair-bottom
for a floor, he danced off, and bruised
his nose, and had to be comforted by
Dear just when sho xvas so busy seeding
raisins.
Ronndtop and Sqnaretop counted it a
great privilege to bring in tho long
sticks of hickory xvood to heat the oven,
each holding an end, tugging occasional it along
with great gravity and an
fall cm their toe-, and, if they wore al¬
lowed to thrust a small Stic t into tho
oven, their satisfaction xvas o mplete.
Dear paused, in her hurried trips through
the kitchen, to loot into the Mazing
depths and think of Shadrach. Meshach
and Abednego.
Then they all stood around to see the
coais drawn out and the oxensxvcpt; and
When heir mother, bolding her hand
far in to test tho temperature, solemnly
deo!ared it xvas “just right,” they
watched breathlessly xvhiie the loaf-ca e
and spiee-ca! e and cook es xvere care¬
fully put ,n, and breathed a closed deep sigh of
relief when the oven door upon
theg od things committed to its keeping.
\\ ednesday morning the oven xvas
heated again, and tilled with mrnce
pies, which came out so delightfully
br own and so deltc’ously fragrant that
the Gates children grew desperately
hungr , would and thought Thanksgiving
never come. And then such
pumpkin and pies, last, and apple-pies, drew and
tarts, at as the evening
on, great batches of brown bread and rye
bread and wheat bread filled the ox'en
to the door.
When the chicken-pie and turkey
were ready tor the oven next day, the
tired mother dropped into the low
rocking chair, and taking Tiptop on
her lap. looked wearily into the 1 re.
“Let me hold Tiptop, tired mamma,” her moth¬
said Dear, thinking how
er was; but her mother made answer
only bv bolding Tjpto > xvith a closer
arm. Tbo iliildren gathered around as
the twilight came on, and sitting there,
waited for their father to come. Grad¬
ually silence fell upon them all, broken
only by the subdued roaring-of tho fire
in the stove, and the loud ticking of tho
clock on the mantel shelf.
As Dear listened, how vividly came
back that sorrowful night when she
stood and heard the clock ticking loud¬
er and louder, as Tiny gently breathed
her life away: and it seemed to Dear
that she would never again hear the
clock ticking in the night without think¬
ing of that scene. She glanced at her
mother, and did not wonder that she
had no heart for Thanksgiving this
year. Indeed, she thought they all had
more cause for complaint than thanks¬
giving. bTnded by tears, she started up,
Half looked
and, going to the window, out.
It was a irosty, starlight night. There
was no snoxv on the ground, but here
and there patches of ice were forru.iig
over the pools of still xvaftsr leftbr the
heavy fall nans.
“Whv don't papa oo P” said Tip
top, fret ully. soon,” said
“He xvill come uic uiuuan'.
sooth ngiy, and, in obedience to an old
habit, began absent-mindedly humming
Greenville, the one tune she knew, and
by whose a d >he had year after year
h’lmme ! ti e ates babies to sleep.
“ispapa at the shop?'' a*ked D ear,
In the first lull in the humming.
“No; he went down to the cotton
mill with a load of bobbins, and he
ought to be here by this time.”
“May 1 go a little way and meet
him?” asked Pear. !
"Yes,”—remembering that Dear had
been in the house all day—“ only first and
light a candle wood and in the make 111 .■ and tea. bring
put. Tiptop’s more night-dress, stove, and untie the
me
boys’ shoes, and wear your hood, and
don’t Dear le had gone closed long.’’ the outside door.
ready to start on a run, when she heard
old Fan’s whinny in the direction of the
barn. “ Papa.has come, and is unhar¬
nessing- Fan,” thought she, feeling a
little disappointed that she could not
meet him and ride home, instead, she
turned to the barn.
At the stable door stood old Fan,
steaming bath. “Papa as if she had were having load a home,” vapor
a
thought Fan. But Dear, what as she went up stepped to pat
was that she
on? A thill? Yes, a broken thill, still
hanging to the harness. Startled,
Dear glanced around the yard, The
wagon was not there, and now she saw
that only a part of the harness was on
the horse, and that was trailing on the
ground.
Before this in her heart had time to
take shape, Dear opened the stable door
and let Fan in, and, carefully The closing road
the door, rail for the street.
over the top of the hill lay like three
narrow foot-paths, with straight r.dgcs
of turf between, and along these narrow
paths Dear sped with flying feet, strain¬
ing her eyes to see she dared not think
what.
At the brow of the hill road she paused wound
and looked doxvn. The
like a brook doxvn the long hill-side,
turning to the right and to the left,
with here and there steep pitches and
many bars, till it was lost in the dark
ness far doxvn toward the valley. As
far as her eyes could reach there was
noth’ng unusual to be seen; but at her
feet lay a broken harness strap. Up
that road Fan had come, and doxvn that
road Dear must go.
< n and on, over bars and pitches,
scarcely touching the ground, loose
stones hit by her feet fix ing before her,
till, suddenly, halfway "down tlio steep¬
est pitch, she came to a place in (lie
road where the stones anil the the plung¬ gravel
had been plowed np as if by
ing of a horse.
Here lay the wagon seat, A littlo
farther on lay two the or three foot planks of the across steep
the road, arid at
pitch lay, on its side, a wrecked lumber
wagon, xvhieli had run backward till it
capsize 1 ; andneross the steep gutter which by
the road-side lay a load of plank
had slid from the xvagon as it went
ox-or. Here was a part of the broken
reins belonging to the harness, xvith the
ends under the load of plank. father’s, Dear
The xvagon was her
knew that;'but where xvas her father?
She stood and looked on either side, up
the hill and down into the valley.
Nothing mo ed; there was not even
wind enough to bend the tall dead
grasses by the road-side, and no sound
was to be heard in all the still night the little but
the purling and babbling of
brooks that had gullied deep channels
m the water-ways on either side ot the
road. Dear could bear this silence no
longer. .
“Papa, whore you? an ,
papa, are
the wild cry went up the lull-side and
down into the valley, bringing no an
swer.
‘ O papa, papa! what shall I do?”
she called again, and as she listened
xvith straining ears, she heard, or
thought she heard, a loxv mom near her.
Sho dropped oil her knees. “Papa,
papa, arc you here?” it was a prayer
noxv. Surely she heard a sound as if in
answer . and" it seemed to come from
the plank that had slid over tho gutter.
In an instant Dear xvas over there
pee ing among the planks. She could
sec nothing, but she could hear a sound
p.ainly now. .’■•he tr ed with frantic
haste to raise tho planks but there xvas
not strength enough in her small arms
for that, and almost without hill thought
sho darted, not np the to tier
mother, but doxvn into the b'aek valley
at the foot of the hill xvbere a cart-path
leading from the xvoods intersected the
road- Along this dark path, overgrown
xvith aiders, she went till she caftie to a
loxv shanty bndt betxveen txvo trees,
and. bursting open the door, sho crie 1 :
11 O Biddy McCoy! coinequick; some¬ the
thing dreadful has happened on
hill.”
“What is’t yer sayin’?’’ said the
startled Biddy, starting from her seat;
but as Dear was already out of doors,
she added, suiting the action to the
words: “ Here, Bridget, tak tho babby,
and you Mike,” to a stupid and boy by the
lire, “get yer lanthern come
along;” and without xvaiting to put any¬
thing on her head she folloxved Dear.
The child xvas already out of s ght,
but. Biddy went on at a sounding the gallop hill.
till she came to tlio foot of
There she saw the small her figure flying
before her and beckoning somethin’ dreadful on. has
“Share, an’
happened,” said the breathless Biddy, the
crossing herself as she came uo to
wrecked wagon. “ Is any one hurted?”
as Dear exiled her to help. there’s
“I’m afraid—I’m at raid some
one under the planks,” gasped Dear,
trying single-handed to lift the load.
“Here, gurl, that’s no xvay to warmik,
tak’ the top one first. Mike, yo lazy
sowl. get along xvid 3 -er lanthern!” and
lie* voice went doxvn the hillside like
the blast of a trumpet, starting ex f en the
slow Mike into a run.
“There, hould that,” said she,hand¬
ing the lantern to Dear, and with Bid¬
dy’s stout arms at one end and Mike s
at the other, the planks were flung over
into the road. Dear held her breath,
aud before the planks xvere ali off they
could see that a man lay t here stretched
in the bed of the gutter. The the planks
were ox-er h'm like a roof, or cover
of a box. and, when the last one was off',
1 ear saw her father's la e, still and
white, but she couid not utter a sound.
“Howly Mother, help us!” e aeulated
Bid y. “Take his feet. Mike, and help
get him out of the wather. He II be
drowned intirely if he'sno kilt already.”
For as lie lav damming up the narrow
channel, the cho -ed water had r -en
and spread around h,m in an ever-rising
poo!. they took him and la d him
As up
doxvn in the road, the m<>t on seemed o
rouse him to life, io.- i>i id , sto - ng
over Ivm with the lantern, saw his eyes
suddenly open. lie looked about him
in a bewildered way, and then clutched
:U the rein- that were still in his hands,
shouting: “Whoa, Fan, whoa!” Then
he slowly raised himself on his elbow,
ami seeing the planks scattered about
him muttered: “Why! she’sgot away.”
“ Are ye much hurted, stir?” asked
iPWdy, would concernedly, help him taking hi- his arm as
if she to feet.
“I don’t know, I’m cold,” said he,
slowly. might
“An’ well ye be, lyin’ in all
that wather,” and she told h'm liow
they bad found b in lying-in the gutter,
with the planks ever him. hut not on
him, and the water around him.
“ Is that you, Dear? and has the horse
gone home?” asked lie after a moment,
seeing the little, shak ng figure beside
him.
“Yes. papa.” and all at once the
convulsive and sobs fell leaped her neyond tier con¬
trol, she on knees, quite
unable to say or do anything but sob.
The sight and the sound of her sobs
did more than anything else to restore
her father to himself. With Biddy’s
help he slowly standing rose from the ground,
and, after a moment, he said,
steadily: “I believe confused. I am all right, The only
cold and a little fall
must have stunned me, and but for vour
help, my good woman, I should have
been a dead man soon.
“It was yer little gnrl tonld us. We
shouldn’t have known.”
He held his hand to Dear, and she
caught it and held it under her chin,
.--till unable to speak.
“Do ye think ye could walk, sur?
Ye’ve no right to be standin’ here wid
yer xvet clothes.”
Thus admonished they began to more.
Biddy and Mike and tlio “lanthern”
went with them to the top of the hill.
By that time Harvey Gates had obta’ned
full possession of himself, and he bade
Biddy her good-night, the telling her he would
see on morrow.
“Now, Dear,” said he, “run home
and tell your mother, quietly, that tlio
wagon broke doxvn, but that 1 am all
right, and will be in directly.”
It was not until near noon the next
day, ible fit xvheu sobbing, Dear broke thather into mother an irrepress¬ knew
of
how near death had been to them that
night. She turned very white, and after
a 'moment said: “Children, we hax _ e
great reason to be thankful today.” in.
A little later Harvey Gates came
He had been doxvn xvith Duke to get
the planks out of the road and to see
Biddy McCoy. He told a pitiful story
of the poverty in the littlo shanty.
“ There will be no he Thanksgiving said. Mrs supper Gates
there winced to-day,” little. She thrifty
a xvas a
woman, and it was not easy for her to
understand the blessedness of giving.
“ And such a baby, such a little mite of
a baby!” continued Harvey Gates, as if
speaking to himself.
“A baby?” her repeated the Mrs. Gates, did
pausing Biddy on had way baby?” to oven; "
you say a
“Yes, and the poor little thing looks
half starved.”
“Mamma," said Dear, eagerly, here
,, w j,,, can ' £ we have them all np
^ ti Iba‘ , s snppeu „„ nw 9 Woxe We’ve o-ot got
J f Gates glanced at his wife,
a ‘moment's hesitation she sa d:
lh can como> £ 8UppoSe , if
there ain’t more’nforty or fifty of’em:"
opened | the oven door and
, ^ |jrk ^ with energy. »liar
yey sho eal]e as she heard him
going toward the door, “toll llddy to
bring the baby; and here, you take that
thick shawl iii the entry to wrap it up
warm.” grandest
And so the McCoy’s had the their lives;
Thanksgiving supper of
and no more thankful company day, the gathered Gates
in New England that
family feeling very tender o or their
escape from agreat calamity .—Josephine
R. Baker, in S. S. Times.
Idaho Jurisprudence.
Justi -o O'Sniff! 11 . up at Blaekfoot, tried
his first case last week, He has
some crude notions about even-handed
justice, and claims to be thoroughly up
on parliamentary etiquette. h 5 .oli Don
The case was one in v
Quixote Centipede was charged xvith
tlie larceny of one sorrel mule, the
property of Claude Mc not'e Rooney,
valued at $75, at the county and Terri¬
tory aforesaid, and on the 10 th day of
Oi tober, 1882, an 1 that on said
da}' the said Don Quixote Centi¬
pede did take, steal and ride axvay and
drix-e away the mule aforesaid, con¬
trary to the statutes in such case made
and provided and against the pence
and dignity of the 'Territory of Idaho
The ca-e xvas tried, and defendant
having been found guilty, the . native
wax about to sentence h'm to tho | cni
tent ary for iiie, when the counsel
called the attention of the Court to the
tact that, as an exanvning magistrate, Mr. Centi
he only had authority to bind
] clc over for his appearance at the
next term of t ie District Court. Jmlre
G’Nn'ttin therefore modified his judg¬
ment to the requirement of a bond for
Jg.AX) for defendant’s appearance as
aforesa d. Dctendant’s counsel then
rose and stated that oxving to certain
irregularities and peculiarities doveloped
in the case, lie would make a motion
lor a nexv trial.
“ Gentlemen,” said Judge O'Sniffin
to the bystanders, “you have a motion,
do I hear a second?”
A 11 eccentric horse-thief on the back
scat seconded the mot on.
“ entlemen.” resumed his Honor,
“ vou ha e hoard the mot on. Are you
ready or the question?”
“ uest-on! ’
“1 lie mot on has been made and sec
ended that the de-endant 1 entipede he
given a new trial. All those in favor
xvill say 'axe. ’
Big chorus of ayes.
“Those oic-ose I will say ‘no.
“it’s a voe. 'ihe pr sonor will be
granted a ne v trial."
! be West is . 11 I o> seD-made men
xx ho a e not very tamiliar xvith Ks ee s
1 1 , ud n an t II g ! i 011 Injunction tmt
i- vou think they are not farnilm'- xvith
parliament;! y usages you do not kc .-x»
them. — • 'r
—Health Journal* insist.noon reoonng
on the right side only, and c aim that it
is injurious to lie on both side-, but we
don’t know where they will find a
healthier set of men than lawyers. — To¬
ledo American.
HUMOROUS.
—It is with some mothers in the treat
liicnt of their children as with fire*
works. First the rock it and then tin
stick .—Boston Transcript.
•• Johnnie,’’ said mamma to her lit¬
tle son, “didn't I tell you not to eat
that candy until after dinner?" John
nie. who lisps: “ l a n’t eating the
candy. I'm only nlan. finicking the juithe. ’
—Batorcncc Aim
--“Did you see the moon over your
right shoulder, my dear?” laid she to
him as they roamed down the walk.
“N-n-no, not exactly; but I just saw
the oid n an over my left shoulder, and
l il bid you good-night.”
—An oil producer was requested debt ho to
give » judgment note for a
owed, but firmly refused, saying: “No,
sir, l will never sign a judgment note.
I did it once, and 1 come very near hav¬
ing to pay it.” — OH Citij Derrick.
— A vague but horrible minor is be¬
ing handed around with blanched lips
that Oscar Wilde will marry and settle
in America. Just a few more straws on
the dromedary’s back and the war with
the mother country will be inevitable.—
E vansvillc A rgas.
—Two of a kind:
(B-tting An anxtous-t i-mtirrj- young mini,
dolbu'-ii-day young mini,
Wlio hasn't a penny—
Nex it learned to save any,
Dcpending-on pa young man.
A dashing-ini l-gn.v young girl, prirl,
As.t-un-nt-nigbi young work
XX hose nut itues the
Like the slaxx- of a Turk,
An enter!niliing-heMioati young girl.
—The followingconversation overheard between
two the hard-looking the cases, was of the Texas
in alley in rear
Siftings do for office: living “What this xvinter?” are you going “I'U
to a
have to break into some house or other,
I reckon.” “Then you will be locked
up in jail.” “In that case I'll have to
break out. 1 am bound to make a
break of some kind or other.”
—A worldly father, after good the style advice of
Lord Chesterfield, is giving
to his son, who is about to enter socie¬
ty: “And. above all, avoid flirtations.
But if you must flirt, or fall in love, sir,
be sure that it is with a pretty xvoman.
It is always safer.” "WhyP” “Be¬
cause some other fellow will be sure to
be attracted and to cut you out before
any harm has been done. —Baris Wit.
Killed With Kindness.
There are some families the children
ni which are never addressed by the:'
proper names; they are “Bet,” “Dear,”
“Darling.” “Precious,” “Sweetest,”
"Tootsoy,” “Birdie" invariable, aud “My Angel,’ rule,,
nd it is almost as a
that these children are peevish, passion who
ate, ill-governed if little they creatures, do not inline
•cream violently theyselamor for. It i
lately unusual get xvhat, visitor in such .‘
not to see a a
home left to solitude while the xvholc
family xvork with frantic solicitude to
■ nd a lost toy or get some withheld
p'ensure for n spoiled child, and the
child is never as happy as the less cared
or litllo one that is accustomed to
amuse itself and taught to restrain it i
emotions until it is convenient to xvab
i poll it. Tho world would have been
without a moon agos ago, had it beet:
possible for imbecile fathers and moth
ers to possess themselves of it, for their
darling’s result plaything. of all this foolishness is
Tho u.i
unhappy after life; the bov who ha-,
petted out of all manl’ness '
jeon an
hardihood groxvs up to be a weak, sed¬
fish, tyrannical man, who imagines ali
women nn- like his mother—willing
scares to his whims and caprices; lie
does not marry a creature like himsel:
and thus prevent txvo other lives from
being spoded, but he conceals his dis¬
position and marries it selfishness. girl xvliose heart The
he breaks xvith his
spo’led and petted girl finds that a bus
ban 1 is not amused by her ebullitions
of tenner— that ho regards head her a-a the
lunatic when sho beats her on
carpet, and screams, and that he lias no
idea or immuring a thousand sillx", un
xvomanly whims, as her mother did,
and she turns out a wretched, disap¬
pointed woman, Both o- t lies 1 xvere
morally killed xvith kindness.
It does not necessarily follow tint
love, deep, fond, parental love, need bo
excluded :rom the home circle, for if not
ound there xvherc then may it be looked
for? but let it be the love that is to make
character, not mar it., that chastenet.h
or its own good, that shall m ke the
heart pure, fhe foot strong, tho spirit
xvilling to bear the burdenso life, when
the dear parents have gone to the home
beyond. That shad be a legacy better
than gold to tho children who must
make their oxvn wav in the xvorlil.
“But xvhat if WilDe should die?' says
some mother who dare child, not lest punish day or
restrain a naughty tormented with some
she xvould be remorse.
Th nk a moment, mother! Aro you
bringing up your child to die? Are you
not educating him to live, both for tins
world and another? And can you not
feel very sure that if ho is a good citizen that
of this xvorld he will bn o': the one
follows this? If he is good and great
and unselfish, minister ng to the sorrow¬
ing, helping the weak, serving bis
Master loyally here, will he not be
wo rthy of Heaven hereafter, and does it
not rest with you to make him ao? Is
not more than your pet dog, Fidele,
whom you also call “pet” and * dar
ij ni r?” little
\Ve have heard of a timorous
woman who used to sit up xvith the stars
waiting for a great, ugiy, tipsy husband
to corue home, and when, in the eariy
raorn ing hours, lie stumbled up the
gtsjr , s q„, would meet him with a smile
tj _ ’
. in<£ ie greet ng: “Is that you. Birdie?
And xve cannot help thinking that if she
j j j iu ,| welcomed him with a metaphorical
g ; )owf . r - hath o’* ice- water and a few reso
Jute words, “B'rdie” m ght have been
I awakened to a sense of his shame and
j raa(1e hast( . to fi 0 better. the
1 j kindnes? 'phe gospel of gush kill, enervates; but makes
that does not in'al
alive, is strengthened bv law< as
ijbi e ^ those ot the Medes and Persians,
—Detroit Rost ana Tribune.
—The Italian ship Fram-csoa. laden
with rice, sprang a lerfk the other dav
and put into port at Fast Do idon. he
xvas promptly pumped <>ut and a ' ir S‘'
force o: men xrere set to wont -o unloaa
i her. 1 he rt-e xvas in bag and the work
**• pu-he'l »>» «1! “ oe MJ
The Latest New York Horror.
There is something peculiarly appnll- New
ing, even at this distance, in the
York tragedy involving the suicide of
Mrs. I)r. Snguin after she had slaugh¬
tered her three young children. The
conditions surrounding the affair seem
to intensify small, the delicate horror. Mrs. of t-’eguin sensi¬
was a woman,
tive character and refined associations,
and among the very last persons whom
ev, n insanity might he expected to be¬
tray into such bloodthirsty brutality. further
But the mystery in this ease is
increased by the circumstances that
Mrs. Scguin lived among physicians
ditions who apparently of insanity yriid which not suspect alone the con¬
can ex¬
plain the deed she committed. Her
brother. Dr. Amidon. was a constant
visitor at the house and took Irs meals
there. Dr. Draper, one of the leading
physicians of New York, was to d lie
with the family on the very day of the
tragedy, which would denote that he
was an intimate friend. And her hus¬
band, l>r. Seguin, is a well-known spe¬
cialist, as his lather was before him, in
nervous diseases and the treatment of
insanity. These conditions two iv.flec¬
suggest
tions. In the first place, it would seem
as though medical science has made but
little progress in the diagnosis of mental
disorders, when insanity-can steal like
a thief in the and night happy upon surroundings a woman oi
gentle under the nature of Tli
very eyes experts. confidence s
case is calculated to impair
in fhe export testimony which physi
ci ns are accustomed to give as to the
causes and indications of insanity and
in the practice they pursue in place, the treat- it is
ini nt thereof. In the next
not impossible that the very atmos¬
phere in which Mrs. Seguin lived may
have produced iho morbidness which
finally obscured her sense of right and
wrong, and converted her* into a fiend.
It is the tendency of specialists to go
to extremes. All people do who
ride hobbies or run in grooves.
The physician who devotes himself to
some particular phase of human ail¬
ment, is apt to discover evidences of its
existence in every ease which comes be¬
fore him. Dr. Seguin lias of probably insanity been
alert in bis a prehension disorder he treated, liis in
every nervous
professional skill was concentrated in
the effort to arrest or euro insanity. It
is not unlikely that liis conversation at
home, like his practice and liis studies,
drifted into discourse and analyzatiou of
mental aberration. If ho resembles m st
of his class ho people has been insane predisposed verging to
regard insanity most as vigor has or been im¬
upon whoso
paired in any way by disonso or over¬
kind work. exerted Have generalizations depressing and of morbid that
a
influence over the poor wi e who lias
now robbed his home of all that made it
dear to him far-fetched, !> Such a and theory it has is a by value no
means
beyond the possiblo explanation of tlio
mysterious tragedy in I.)r. Seguln’s
family. If physicians who make specialty of
a
treating insanity know so little of it
that it may he developed observation suddenly into un¬
der their immediate
the most horrible phase and at the same
time contribute to the spread of insan¬ the
ity by their own morbid ideas on
subject, then it will be better for man¬
kind if the special study of insanity be
abandoned and the doctors eon line them¬
selves to ihe treatment of functional dis¬
orders according to tlio best experience
they can command.- -Chicago Tribune.
Supply of Hogs.
Wo think that neither tho bulls nor
tho bears, wit h all of their public agencies tho or
guesses, can deceive tho as to
great deficiency in the market. supply of The hogs great for
tho fall and xvinter
scarcity and high price of corn in all of
tho corn belt, for twelvo months lias
caused farmers and feeders to hurry to
market all hogs which could be passed
iff. And there has been a great ro
daction of the number ot hogs kept for
ireoding. This has been the ease in
nearly all United of the hog produomg that the regions de¬
of the States, so
below ficiency la-tor xvill be the at three least thirty per 3 years. cent
previous
This will make a material difference in
the supply and demand, If all the
packers do not combine and establish
prices, the farmers may expect at least
no decline in prices from tho present.
Corn last week, owing to the reliable
eports of the crop, advanced largely in
spite of ali tho bears could do. And
is a that the
deficiency in hog * can be made up in
the next sixteen months. The breeding
hogs arid the com to feed on are not in
good he country, prices for and this farmers and next can fall’s rely hogs, on
if the business of tbo country is not con¬
trolled by an unholy combination. And
with the facts so apparent it does not
seem possiblo that any perversion of
facts can possibly deceive any one. Arid
f all and of the determine packers meet, loxv as t hey figures, usually it
Jo, ought on to be appeal
cents as if there an
>0 C;o«ar, with all of the vim which
man has for self-defense .—Iowa Ht'Ue
Register.
Extinction of a Family.
A remarkable instance of the extinc¬
tion of a family has occurred near Rox¬
ana, N. C. Jacob Evans and his wife
died a year or two ago and left two sons
and two daughters. An unmarried
brother of Mrs. Evans named Taylor
also lived for the most of his time with
the children. A short time ago one of
the daughter*, who had married mean¬
while, died. In a little while Taylor
died. In a week or two more t he other
daughter died, and was followed to tho
grave in a few days more by one of the
brothers. 'The other brother'and only
remaining fragment of the famffv has
been for some time at the point of death,
though at present occurred is reported within letter. the
These deaths have
space of little more than a month t he
family are “aid to have been mentally
weak, and when death removed the firet
the rest gave way to melancholy and
died .—North Carolina Pnner.
—Jennie June sighs for a scientific
drqx-m »kor. What is it but science that
j calls for twenty-eight yards of goods in
I j.’ljfi'fiTn- brealh’without' f'eiilng
RELIGIOUS AND EDUCATIONAL.
—Drawing has been made obligatory
in (he third year of the regular high
school course in Boston.
—The the Baptists semi-centennial of Germany will cele¬
brate of the mission
in 1884 by establishing a fund for in¬
valid preachers.
•The Board of the American Baptist
Publication Society have sold the A«
tional Baptist to its present editor, Key.
l)r. H. L. Way land.
--Adelbert College, which was built
by Amass. Slone, Jr., of < 'foreland, at. a
cost, of $500,000, was dedicated recently
with impressive ceremonies, many dis¬
tinguished educators being present.
-Rev. E. Morrow, of the Canada
Methodist Church, luisbequeathed $10,
000 to various funds of that church, and
also ninety-two acres of land for the es¬
tablishment of a Methodist College in
Manitoba.
— The church membership m Balti¬
more the is population said to be than larger that in of proportion other
to any
city of its size in the Union—117,089
of the 340,000 people being enrolled as
communicants in flic several churches.
—The Presidency of the new Meth¬
odist College in Foochow, China, has
been conferred upon Rev. G. B.
Smyth, of the Newark Conference.
He is a graduate of the New York Col¬
lege and of the Drew Theological Semi¬
nary.
• We hear, says the London Acade¬
my, that the revisers of the Old Testa¬
ment have made so much progress that
their work will certainly be finished in
a few more months. Indeed, there is
even some probability that be ready the re¬ for
vised Old Testament may
publication by the close of next year.
—The Indian school at Carlisle, Pa.*
has 350 pupils on its roll. The experi¬
ment last summer of sending the chil¬
dren out among the farmers of the
neighborhood was so successful that, the
plan has been adopted, and about fifty
of the Indian children now under the
care of the institution will be and placed
with farmers during the winter at¬
tend the public schools .—Chicago Tams.
—Archbishop Bourget, of Montreal,
now an octogenarian, has within two
years paid off a debt of nearly $1,000,
000 resting upon the Diocese, being
largely aided by the increase in the
market value of real estate engaged belonging
to the church. He is now in
building a cathedral modeled after St.
Peter’s in Rome, to cost $1,000,000,.of •
which amount $400,000 ims already been
subscribed .—Chicago Times.
A Learned French Locksmith.
If Adrian Maquet, the learned lock¬
smith of Marly, finds that to be famous
is a pleasant sensation, ho must thank
his good fortune for having given him
Victorien Sardoti for a neighbor. lp in writ- But
for o
ing a friend’s re¬
cently published book, “Ires Seig¬
neurs do Marly,” the Paris literati
might remarkable never have author. recognized The the prelim* merit
of its
has aroused so dutch curiosity in the
subject of it that the locksmith, who a
few days ago had scarcely l)oen heard
of outside liis village, is now receiving de¬
visits from Paris journalists, wiio
scribe his poor dwelling, his gray hair
and horny hands with publish graphic anything exact
ness. and are eager to
he niav tell them about himself.
Adrian Manuot has added another
name to the list of learned working- study
men. For thirty-five years tlio
of local history and ant quities has been
his ruling passion. Whenever he could
steal a day from his toil he would be¬
take himself to some public 1 brary at
Paris or Versailles, and by the aid of a
system of short band Hint ho had in
xented. would often take notes enough
to sorvo him for three months’ noctur¬
nal study. He had another way of ob
ta iiing "the information he coveted.
When sent to work at a neighboring he would
chateau possessing a history, look at
bog leave of the proprietor and, the to motive
the family documents,
being apnreciated, In the permission of time was ha
readily granted. course in deciphering
became as expert
an ■ ont manuscripts us an adept of the
F<eo!c d*« Chartox. Thu paleographic of
locksmith is now in a fair way re¬
ceiving M>nu; Government appo ntinent
wh’ch will free him trom those hin¬
drances to his beloved pursuit which
for thirty-live years Ho has so bravely
Struggled again-1.— St. James' Gazette.
Analysis of American Humor.
American humor is something of its
own kind, as purely and peculiarly pumpkin a
pari, of the United States ax
pie. We have among us the vivacity of
the French, the fun of tho Irish, the
graver mirth of the English, and the
epigrammatic expressiveness of the
Scotch; this curious mixture has made
our wit what it is, and every American
humorist shows the tracos of it. If we
analyze the elements of the distinctive
kind and sort of writing which passes
under the general head, we shall be sur¬
prised to see the resemblance among
themselves and their difference from all
other foreign species. We are born fol¬
lowers of Baron Munchausen, and exag¬
geration is at the bottom of the most of
our humor. When John Phoenix said
that he called out to the crowd on shore,
“Good-by, Colonel,” and every ab c
bodied man in it raised his hat and
cried “Good-by, Colonel,” in response,
he touched the great nerve of American
humor; and when he stated that he h*ld
the belligerent editor down oyer the
press “by means of our nose, which xye
had inserted between his teeth lor this
purpose,” he showed the second trait of
the. characteristic comic writer—nam*-iy.
ludicrous juxtaposition and reversing
of ordinary ideas. And so, when Arte
mus Ward says to the young man who
disturbs him in the theater; “I’d »p
pint your funeral to-morrow afterno >n,
and the corpse should be ready,” phrase- h«
g ves us the third feature, of dialect. quaint In the
ology and odd turns e
three points, then—exaggeration, speed— ti¬
dier manes*, and odd form* of
we find the distincrive iw-cn'iar*'*- 'f
our American wit.— Prof. 1 8 . W. Bujji'l<t %
in N. Y. Independent.
—A stranger o d rto VVa -o.
Tex., the other da arel * .xov >. 1 cm is ov
xe a ra >n.
»«ir of ,h,w « w*"* *** <® ilU