Newspaper Page Text
By R. S. HOWARD.
VOLUME VI.
Vother’s Way.
Qlt within our little cottage
As the shadows gently tall,
While the sunlight touches solt’.y
One sweet lace upon the wall,
Do we gather close together,
And in hushed and tender tone,
Ask each other’s lull forgiveness
For the wrong that each 1 as done.
Should you wonder why this custom
At the ending of the day,
Eye and voice would quickly answer,
“ It was once our mother’s way!”
It our home be bright and cheery,
If it hold a welcome true,
Opening wide its doors of greeting
To the many, not the few;
If we share our Father’s bounty
With the needy day by day,
Tis because our hearts remember
This was ever mother's way.
Sometimes, when our hands grow weary
Or our tasks seem very long,
When our burdens look too heavy,
And we deem the light all wrong,
Then we gain anew, lresh courage,
As we rise to proudly say:
“ Let us do our duty bravely,
This was our dear mother’s way.”
Thus we keep her memory precious,
While we never cease to pray
That at last, when lengthening shadows
Mark the evening of our day,
They may find us waiting calmly,
To go home our mother’s way 1
JUST IN TIME.
I “Oh. dear, how nice it is to he home
■ again!”
I Faith Lindsey tossed her brown straw
I hat upon a table, and rolling her well
worn kid gloves up into a tiny ball,
flung them after it.
“Mother,” she went on, cheerily,
"this vacation is just a blessing to the!
I’m so tired of that dingy old school
room. and my almost hopeless task of
‘teaching the young ideas,’ ftc. There
are times when I long to drop every
thing and just fly away. Oh, had I the
wings of a dove!” she hummed, while
her mother, a worn, tired-looking wo
man, with a sweet, gentle face, watched
her fondly.
“ I’ve longed so for the end of the
term," Faith c mtinued, “ and now it is
ready here, I can hardly realize my
emanci;ahon. 1 was so tired of work;
andsogiad to get back to you, away
from the dusty oils, here in the dear old
•!’’
Fmil pause 1 for breath. Her mother
suiih and.
“Well, dear,” she aid, quietly, go
now to your room and dress. Max will
y* u know!”
vid Faith, b ushing prettily, ran oft
to her own apartment. And when she
hail closed ihe door behind her, her
smiling face grew grave.
" Poor old Max!” she said, sadly, as
she leaned her elbow upon the window
sill, and rested her chin in one rosy
pitm; “how I wish i could help him!
li<!is so true and good; and such a
small sum of money would give us
everything wo desire. Two thousand
dollars would buy him Dr. Shipton’s
practice, and then he would be on a fair
road to a competency at least; and that
isthe ino-t we dare :•ope for. But what
I, a poor schoolteacher, toil
ing from day'to day for a bare subsist
ence, and to help mother the little 1 can.
Thank (lod the old home is ours ; there
tteonly mother and me to worry about,
we have health, and—well,” as a
cheery smile stole over her pretty face,
1 don t see but that we have a great
'-ta to be thankful for, after all.”
sprang to her feet, the glad smile
Lii lingering around the dainty mouth;
pul ii i g the pins from her coil of
‘fd-brown hair, let it fall in rebellious
r! PP*cs all over her shoulders, half
rovering her petite figure. And as her
“’•tie ringers went busily to work piait
the thick wavy tresses, and making
roein into the most bewitching braids
iD ‘ : pulls that ever bewildered a man’s
miring eyes, her thoughts still flew
along.
It only Aunt Patience had left us her
“ one y' She must have been very rich!
Wiis to ° joung when she died to re
her. She had always intended
) ma, *' e mamma her heir. But the old
was so eccentric—crazy, I should
[" 't. I should not wonder if she had
-urn ,i i 1(?r mo ney somewhere. For, al-
a will was fo\:nd, bequeathing
her possessions, ail the
P-operty ever discovered was this little
,7 Us ' aQ d the grounds around it. But
• >vas a great gift for us, coming as it
,u jUst at the time of dear papa’s death,
* too young to be any assistance,
- ■ mamma nearly penniless. Goa has
Ver y good us.”
Paused to note the effect of her
• a^ Ure in the small mirror; then plac
“i asnowy rosebud in one side of the
tresses, she unlo ked her trunk,
• began turning her dresses over.
,1* will wear my black grenadine!”
e at last, decidedly. “ Max likes
w ' Was easy to see that the young lady
Ur y anxious to please Max Peyton
ca i >ey ton, as he had a right to be
now that he had received his
j' uln! a od was looking about for
, ce * But, ah! the weary waiting
a lor lax was poor, and had iittle in
enee. Ana. mere was Dr. Shipton,
&t ° Wls : ing too old to work longer
1 proiessi on. whose comfortable
Maice ne wouta dispose of for two
dollars—so small a sum, when
stake ° PeS OUD £ ve6 are a t<
t r^? r ax and Faith had been be
tj .. ‘ lor ,lj ° re than a year. Poor as
1 - belli were, Mrs. Lyndsey loved
tc tljiu; he
THE FOREST NEWS.
heart* grew heavy as she thought of
their long days of waiting, which
stretched before them like arid desert.
, And, while I have been telling all
faith’s secrets, she has been getting
herself up in the pretty grenadine, and
at last floated downstairs to meet her
lover, with the brightest face imagin
able. Max was a tall, fine-looking
young fellow, with a world of determin
ation in his dark eyes. He was brave
and earnest. To him life was a battle,
in which he meant to come off con
queror.
And the days flew by on golden
wings, bringing nearer the hour when
Faith must return to the city and the
toil of the schoolroom. What was her
consternation, one morning, to receive
a terse note informing her that the
school-board which employed her had
determined upon a retrenchment of ex
penses for the coming season, and had
proceeded to discharge a number of the
teachers, herself among them. Poor
Faith! Though the confinement of the
schoolroom was irksome to her, she
was, nevertheless, dependent upon her
situation for a livelihood, and it was
taking away from her her sole support.
For a time she was stunned by the
intelligence and knew not which way
to turn. Then, more trouble came. A
smell sum which she and her mother
had contrived to save between them was
lost by the failure of the bank in which
it was placed; and it seemed truly “ that
troubles never come singly,” for (and
that was worst of all) Mrs. Lyndsey’s
health began to suffer, and Faith
thought, with a sudden shock of grief
and terror, that her mother might be
taken away.
These were to Faith; and
had it not been for Max—brave, true
patient Max—she would have come
near despairing.
It wa3 one even ing in early autumn
A bright wood-lire roared and crackled
on the broad hearth; for the old house
which had belonged to Aunt Patience
was built with great, roomy > fireplaces.
Mrs. Lyndsey and Faith and Max,
who had di-opped in for the evening,
were gathered around a large table
drawn up before the fireplace, and
strewn with books and work, for Faith’s
only dependence now was in needle
work.
Times were hard with the young
physician; and he had. at last, made up
his mind to tear himself from home and
all he held dear, and go out into the new
western country, and build up a prac
tice. He loved*Faith too well to will
ingly subject her to the hardships and
trials of his new life. No! He would
go forth alone—and work so hard, and
strive so earnestly, that some day he
would be ready for his wife, and Faith,
he knew, would be true.
“ But I shall be old and gray by that
time!” smiled Faith, through her tears.
“I shall love you just the same, my
darling!” the young man ans wered; and
somehow. Faith could not doubt him to
save her life!
So. sitting there before the bright fire,
the three discussed the proposed depar
ture; till, at las , Faith dropped her
tear dimmed eyes upon her work, and
quiet fell over all.
“ Mamma,” said the young girl, sud
denly, after a long, thoughtful silence,
, what do you suppose Aunt Patienc
did with her money?”
Mrs. Lyndsey smiled.
“ I’m sure 1 have no idea, dear,” she
answered, ‘‘l considered that subject
exhausted long ago. It was thought,
however, that she converted her ready
money into jewels. I remember hearing
her say that diamonds were the only
safe investments which never depreciate,
and that stones of value are never drugs
n the market.”
“Imagine Aunt Patience bedecked
with diamonds!” laughed Faith, mis
chievously. “ Max, just imagine, if you
can, the antiquated lady whose portrait
hangs yonder attired in jewels, and a
fashionable ball-dress!”
Faith laughed again, and the others
could not resist the contagion. For
Faith, with her cheerfulness, bore her
crosses with fortitude.
“She’s only mamma’s aunt, you
know,” interpolated Faith, apologetic
ally, “and she years ago!
Mamma, did any one ever search—a
real, good, old-fashioned search, I mean
—for Aunt Patience’s money?”
Her mother smiled sadly.
“Yes, indeed. For years we could
not give up the hope of finding it. Every
nook and corner about the oid place
has been carefully examined. No, no,
my child, Aunt Patience laid her money
away too safely for any hope of recov
ery after all these years. Don’t let such
a foolish thought enter your head,
my dear; it is but a waste of time!”
Faith reached across the table, and
laid one fiDger on an ancient looking
box.
“See, Max,” she cried, “here’s the
old la' 1 . workbox —I don’t believe
m ’ ma has ever disturbed its contents.
W no knows,” she cried, with a sudden
fire in her brown eyes, “ but Aunt Pa
tience may have hidden her money
away in it.”
“Vain hope!” said Mrs. Lyndsey;
“the box has been overhauled and ex
amined over and over again.”
Faith sighed.
‘■Ah, well,” she said, resignedly, “I
suppose I must submit to fate’s decrees.
But if only we had a little of that
money—think how much it would ac
complish !”
She had taken from the box a ball of
wax —such as commonly forms part of
the paraphernalia of a workbox, and
toyed idly with it as she talked.
But as she finished the last sentence
e yes met her iovtr’s.gaze, and she
JEFFERSON, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 23, 1880.
blushed rosily at the thought of what
her speech implied.
In her confusion she dropped the ball
of wax. It rolled across the rug at her
f ect, and right into the blazing woo
fire.
Faith sprang to her feet with a little
cry of dismay.
“Oh, what a pity!” she cried, brand
ishing the poker, “ and it’s over seven
teen years old!”
She thrust the implement she held
into the flames and rolled the melting
wax toward the rug. But it was too
late to save it.
The wax had entirely melted and lay
upon the hearth in a great soft pool, and
there, before their astonished eyes, as
though a magician’s wand had called it
forth, glowed and sparkled something
—shinins, scintillating. With a low -ary
of rapiure Mrs. Lyndsey stooped and
raised it.
“ Max—Faith,” she said, brokenly,
“ Aunt Patience’s fortune is found at
last ”
And so it proved. The eccentric old
lady had converted all her ready money
into one immense diamond.
How she had obtained it no one could
conjecture, but she had hidden it away
in tliis odd receptacle, only to be ressur
rected after seventeen long years.
And Mrs. Lyudsey—heir at law—as
well as by the old lady’s will—had no
trouble in exchanging the jewel for
greenbacks—a handsome fortune.
Mrs. Lyndsey insisted on purch- sing
the practice of Dr. Shipton for her fu
ture son-in-law, and Max accepted the
money as a loan.
He anff Faith were married soon, and
with Mrs. Lyndsey went to live in a
pretty Gothic cottage just within the
city of Rochester.
Max is a popular physician now; gos
sip says he is getting rich fast; and the
hearts of the happy trio are ever grate
ful for the unhoped-for discovery of the
fortune which came just in time.
Gough and the Bible.
While in England, says John B.
Gough, I was invited to church with a
clergyman who is now bishop of Car
lisle, and we had a discussion for two
hours. A titled lady was present and
she helped him. I was alone, and had
to bear the whole brunt of the battle in
the Scriptural argument.
“ The Bible permits the use of wine,”
said he.
“Very well,” said I; “suppose it
does?”
“The Bible sanctions the use of
wine.”
“Very well, suppose it does?”
“ Our Savior made wine.”
“ I know he did.”
‘ Why, we thought you were pre
pared to deny this.”
“ I do not deny it; I can read.”
“Wine is spoken of in the Bible as a
blessing.”
1 replied: “ There are two kinds of
wine spoken of in the Bible.”
“ Prove it.”
“Ido not know that I can, but I will
tell you what it is; the wine that is
spoken of as a blessing is not the same
that is a ‘ mocker,’ and the wine that is
to be drunk in the kingdom of heaven
cannot be the wine of the wrath of
God So that although I cannot prove it
learnedly I know it is so.
“Now, there are others who go
farther than I can go, but you will
please let me go as far as I can under
stand it, and if I cannot go any further
do not find fault with me. I hold that
the Bible permits total abstinence; I
would rather search the Bible for per
mission to give up a lawful gratification
for the sake of my weaker-headed
brother who stumbles over my ex
amples into sin, than to see how far
can follow my own propensities without
committing sin and bringing condem
nation upon any one’s soul.”
Another gentleman who came to me
for a long talk said: “ I have a con
scientious objection to teetotalism, and
it is this; our Savior made wine at tlie
marriage at Cana, in Galilee.”
“ I know he did.”
“ He made it because they wanted
it.”
“ So the Bible tells us.”
“ He made it of water.”
“Yes.”
“ Then he honored and sanctified wine
by performing a miracle to make it.
Therefore,” said he, “ I should be re
proaching my Master, if I denied its use
as a beverage.”
“Sir,” I said, “ I cannot understand
how you should feel so; but is there
nothing else you put by which our
Savior has hor ored ?”
“ No, I do not know that there is.”
“ Do you eat barley bread?”
‘•No,” and then he began to laugh.
“And why not?”
“ Because I don’t like it.”
“ Very well, sir,” said I; “our Sav
ior sanctified barley bread just as much
as ever he did wine. He fed 5,000 peo
ple with barley loaves, manufactured by
a miracle. You put away barley for
the low motive of not liking it. I ask
you to put away wine for the higher
motive of bearing the infirmity of your
weaker brother, and so fulfilling the law
of Christ. I wish to say, that man
signed the pledge three days after
ward.”
Nothing would fortify us more
against all manner of accidents than to
remember that we can never be hurt by
ourselves. If our reason be what it
| ought, and our actions according.to it,
1 we are invulnerable.
for the people
FOR THE FAIR SEX.
Fashion Notes.
Japan -sepongee is a summer novelty.
Shirring grows more and more fash
ionable.
Cheese cloth dresses are worn again
this summer.
Children’s collars nearly cover their
shoulders.
Small children wear shoes matching
their ribbons.
Even the drooping brims of hats are
ned this year.
Garden shawls of India muslin are
trimmed with lace.
Ladies’ riding-hats are of glossy dark
silk this season.
While lawn jackets are substituted
for dress waists.
Stockinet mitts are more fashionable
than those of lace.
India muslin is trimmed with gold
lace and made into ties.
Bugs, flies and beetles form the border
on some kerchiefs.
Heavy box-plaited flounces to the
knee are much worn.
Soft-tinted blush roses make the pret
tiest flower bonnets now.
China satin is a light variety of Lyons
satin. It drapes admirably.
Belts of yellow satin ribbon are worn
with lace sacks and tunics.
Ladders of bows are used to fasten the
tails ot coat basques together.
Lace mantles are now drawn together
and fastened high on the left side.
Egg plums and gooseberries are used
to trim some Tuscan straws.
The embroidered lisle thread stock
ings are worked in Irish convents.
The princess effect is the prevailing
style of full dress summer toilets.
One feather is considered sufficient
trimming for a fine Tuscan bonnet.
Muslin embroidery stitched on net is
used for curtains and toilet covers.
Dark trimmings on light dresses or
light on dark are equally fashionable.
Riding habits for summer are of dark
gray or navy blue or dark brown cloth.
Ironclad lisle thread hose are the
proper thing to wear at th° mountains.
White silk sunshades with white
lace covers are only meant for carriage
use.
Long linen mantles are worn for
dusters by ladies who object to the
ulster.
Panier and back draperies of Surah
silk are frequently added to faille cos
tumes.
Lisle thread gloves with buttons are
more fashionable than those with
elastics.
Soft twilled silk squares with floss
embroidery on the edge make pretty
kerchiefs.
Black Spanish lace sleeves are de
rigueur with black summer toilets of
ceremony.
White or cream nun’s veiling and
Surah make an admirable combination
toilet of ceremony.
The p opulation of Ireland, which has
been generally increasing since the be
ginning of the century, is now rapidly
falling off by emigration.
The summer traveling dress for brides
is of Cliuddah cloth of coachman’s drab
or biscuit shade, made up over a silk
skirt of the same color, and trimmed
with drab or biscuit Surah silk.
Elaborate double trains and high
wire i Medici collars of pearls or crystal
beads are adopted for bridal dresses,
when the wedding is “ at home,” in the
evening, large, and an occasion of full
ceremony.
The style at the moment for English
bridemaids is to wear simple white
muslin dresses with a fichu crossed on
the bosom, white parasols and a small
basket of flowers hanging on the arm.
In one hand a prayer book. The waist
must be round and gathered to a belt,
and worn with a wide belt of white
Surah silk with sash ends.
Au Elopement in the marly Days of New
York.
A runaway match in the old Revolu
tionary days of New York was success
fully accomplished by mounting horses
at the summit of Murray Hill and by
dashing madly through shady lanes and
flowering orchards down to the friendly
shelter of Trinity church. This was
the time when the scarlet-coated British
officer was viewed in the light of for
bidden fruit by the patriotic American
maiden, and this advantage, added to
his intrinsic charms, naturally endowed
him in her eyes with every deadly
fascination.
A country house until very recently
standing on the summit of Murray Hill,
inhabited by a family ol social import
ance. well known for its devotion to the
Ameiican cause and for the attractions
of its daughters, became the rendezvous
of many distinguished foreigners con
nected with the political struggles of
the day. Major Audre was a frequent
visitor at the house, and, in a letter ex
tant from his pen, dwells in loving de
tail on the charms of the sisters of the
family. One of them, celebrated for her
proficiency in chess, was challenged to
play a game with the renowned Kos
ciusko, at whose fail “ freedom
shrieked!” Whether gal.antry on the
part of her opponent or her own real
merit won the game for the lady cannot
now be accurately determined; but a
well authenticated family legend affirms
that the stately Pole rose to his feet,
and, bowing profoundly before the lady
*id: “Madam, Kosciusko acknowl
edges you his conqueror.” The chess
board and table ot' the story are still
preserved as heirlooms.
The heroine of the chess combat and
the elopement above alluded to are one
and the same person. In her case, as
in that of others, the beauty and ac
complishments of an English officer
overcame the terrors of parental dis
pleasures, and, yielding to her lover’s
entreaties, the accomplished belle and
the man of her choice mounted their
horses for an afternoon ride, and gal
oped down to Trinity church, where
the clandestine marriage was solemn
ized by Bishop More.
The escapade naturally gave rise to
interminable family scenes and vehe
ment recriminations on all sides. One
sister fainted, and the rage of the father
was difficult to overcome. But time
and the bride’s winning nature effected
at last a reconciliation, and the union,
though somewhat brief, for the lady
was not long-lived, seems to have
brought happiness to the whole of the
family circle.
Gathering Salt.
Cheshire has long been noted for its
salt springs, but these are of mild qual
ity compared to the brine springs that
rise in the rock-salt localities. This
natural brine supplies the best salt. It
is pumped up from its springs by a
powerful engine, and conveyed into a
huge cistern, and from thence into the
pans prepared for it. Under these pans,
when full, fires are kept burning day
and night, and constantly attended by
the firemen, whose sole business it is to
pile on the fuel, “rakeoff” when the
heat becomes too great, and generally
keep the furnace at its proper working
heat. As soon as the brine becomes
heated, the process of evaporation be
gins. All around us stood rows of long
black sheds, from which, at evei’y
crevice, issued steam in soft white
clouds. Inside these sheds it was very
mut h like being in a briny Turkish
bath; the heat of the steam was so in
tense that we could only bear it long
enough to take a hurried look at the
vast pan in front of us filled with boil
ing brine, on the top of which the salt
lay in a thick scum, remaining for an
instant on the surface, and then sinking
slowly to the bottom. Standing on a
raised ledge beside the pan was a
shaggy, foreign-looking man, stripped
to the waist, and perspiring at every
pore, who held a long-handled rake,
with which he drew to the edge of the
pan the salt which lay in masses over
the bottom. Having raked together a
considerable quantity of salt, he took
another tool not unlike a giant spade,
perforated with holes, with which he
lilted the salt from the pan. The qual
ity of the salt varies according to the
time at which it is “ drawn ” or lifted
from the pan. The finest, or what is
called “butbr salt,” is drawn when
the brine is at boiling point, the pans
being drawn two or three times a day.
The courser salt is left much longer at
a lower temperature, being drawn, in
some eases, two or three times a week,
• nd in the case of “ fish ” or preserving
salt only once or twice in a fortnight.
A morsel of soap or glue is add ei to
the heated brine to assist in the pui ify
ingof the salt. The courser varieties
arc never packed in tubs, but loaded
straight from the shed on to the barge,
or filled into specially prepared sacks.
The finer salt is carried into the drying
room, which is kept constantly at a
temperature trying to ordinary human
nature, and here it is formed into neat
blocks and packed for exportation.
This being clean work, much of the
packing ol fine salt is done by neat, tidy
women and girls. The coarser salt is
carried loose to the barges on the river.
University Magazine.
What a Volcano Can Do.
Cotapaxi, in 1738, threw its fiery
rockets 3,000 feet above its crater, while
in 1754 the blazing mass, struggling for
an outlet, roared so that its awful voice
was heard at a distance of more than
600 miles. In 1797 the crater of Tun
guragua, one of the great peaks of the
Andes, flung out torrents of mud, which
dammed up the rivers, opened uew
lakes, and, in 1,000 feet wide,
made deposits 600 feet deep. The stream
from Vesuvius which, in 1837, passed
through Torre del Greco contained
33,000,000 cubic feet of solid matter, and
in 1793, when Torre del Greco was de
stroyed a second time, the mass of lava
amounted to 45,000,000 cubic feet. In
1760 .Etna poured forth a flood which
covered eighty-four square miles of
surface, and measured nearly 1,000 000,-
000 cubic teet. On this occasion the sand
and scoria formed the Monte Rosini,
near Nicholosa, a cone of two miles in
circumference and 4,000 feet high. The
stream thrown out by Etna in 1810 was
in motion at the rate of a yard a day for
nine months after the eruption; and it
is on record that the lava of the same
mountain, after a terrible eruption, was
not thoroughly cool and consolidated
for ten years after the event. In the
eruption of Vesuvius, A. D. 79, the
scoria and ashes vomited forth far ex
ceeded the entire bulk of the mountain;
while in 1660 ./Etna disgorged more
than twenty times its own mass. Vesu
vius has sent its ashes as far as Con
stantinople, Syria and Egypt; it hurled
stones eight pounds in weight to Pom
peii, a distance of six miles, where
similar masses were tossed up 2,000
leet above the summit. Cotapaxi has
proiected a block of 100 cubic yards in
volume a distance of nine miles; and
Sumbawa. in 1815, during the most ter
rible eruption on record, sent its ashes
as far as Java, a distance of 300 miles
of surface, and out of a population of
12,600 souls only twenty escaped.
TIMELY TOPICS.
The number of cattle killed per year
in the United b'tates is 11,825,000,
the meats from which amount to
4,088,300,000 pounds, and their total
value when killed for food is
$608,200,000.
Mr. Gladstone entered parliament at
twenty-three, a year after leaving the
university. Two years later Sir Robert
Peel made him a lord of the treasury,
and within a year under secretary of
state lor the colonies. Lord Beacons
field did not make his way into the
house of commons until he was thirty
two. Of Mr. Gladstone’s leading col
leagues, Mr. Childers and Mr. Bright
entered the house of commons at thirty
two, and the Marquis of Hartinglon at
twenty-four. Of former leaders, Mr.
Pitt entered at twenty-one, and Mr.
Fox was returned at nineteen, two
years before he could be received in the
House.
Some interesting figures on the
divorce question in New England States
have been brought together. Connec
icut last year granted 316 divorces,
which is eighty-five less than in 1878,
and in part a result, no doubt, of the
repeal of what is known as the “ omni
bus clause.” For several years previous
to 1878 this shows a decrease of 130.
Vermont also shows a falling off. Only
129 divorces were granted in 1879, or
seventy-one less than in 1878. In Mas
sachusetts the case has been the other
way.* In 1876 600 were granted and the
increase last year is believed to be
enough to balance the falling off in Ver
mont and Connecticut.
A Boston doctor has struck it at last.
After years of experimenting he has
produced a colorless, inodorous liquid
which prevents all sense of pain in a
sensitive tooth, while the dentist is dig
ging at it. He calls it Naooli —the diar
esis being essential in order to give the
name a learned and scientific aspect.
“One or two drops of the liquid,” says
the Boston Advertiser “are merely
placed in the cavity and in a few min
utes rhe dentist proceeds to excavate it
n the usual manner, but without a par
ticle of pain.” Its action is “confined
entirely to the tooth that is operated
upon;” and when the operation is over,
the tooth returns to its normal condi
tion. It is claimed that the new discov
ery injures neither the nerve nor the
bodily health.
A beginning is about to be made, says
Nature , to carry out Lieutenant Wey
breclit’s proposal for a circle of observ
ing stations around the North Polar
region. The Danish government has
resolved to establish a station at Uper
nivik, in West Greenland; the Russian
government has granted a subsidy for
an observatory at the mouth of the
Lena, and another on the new Siberian
islands; Count Wilczek is to defray the
expenses o 1 a station on Nova Zembia
under the direction of Lieutenant Wey
precht; the United States signal service,
under General Meyer, has received per
mission to plant an observatory at
Point Barrow, in Alaska; and it is ex
pected that Canada will have a similar
establishment on some poiit of her
Arc.ic coast. At the Hamburg confer
ence it was announced that Holland
would furnish the funds for a station in
Spitzbergen; and it is expected that
Norway will have an observing post on
he extremity of the province of Fin
mark. This is a good beginning, and it
is hoped that some sort of agreement
will be established to have all the ob
servations made after a unitorm
method, otherwise their value will be
greatly decreased.
A Bitter Tongue;
It is strange but true that some peo -
pie delight in saying biJer things to
their neighbors. You are never safe
with them. W hen you have done your
best to please, and are feeling very
kindly and pleasantly, out will pop
some underhand stab, which you alone
can understa .d—a sneer which is
masked, but which is too well made t
be misunderstood. It may be at your
person, or your mental feeling, your
foolish habit of thought on some little
oecret opinion confessed in a moment of
genuine confidence. It matters not how
sacred it may be to you, he will have
his fling at it; and, since the wish is to
make you sutler, he is all the happier
the nearer he touches your heart. How
much unhappiness do such mean at
tacks cause tender-hearted men and
women.
Advertising.
The lack of advertising i3 one of the
chief causes of business failures. There
are business men who don’t understand
the value of advertising. They do not
see the direct connection between adver
tising and the entrance of a customer,
cr the demand for any particular article.
They, also, with a self-importance which
is amusing, fancy their businesses are
known to the whole community, chang
ing as that community is to an extent
which they have no conception of. The
principle upon which business men
should act is, advertise, and advertise
the truth. It you have a good thing let
the people know it. Furthermore, never
let an advertisement get stale. — Mone
tary Times.
“The papers talk about civil engi
neers,” said old Mrs. Briggs “ I won
der why there ain’t no civil fonduc
tors?”
PRICE—® 1.60 PER ANNUM.
NUMBER 7.
Immaculate.
Clothed in white—a happy child at play,
Iltr face all radiant as the hues ol morning—
With fairy step she trod;
A creature lovely as the 11 >were of May,
Who could bewitch us with her childish
scorning,
Or rule us with a nod.
Clothed in white—with blossoms in her hair
A maiden whom to love appeared a duty—
A speil aronnd her hung;
A sense of all that naturo makes most fair,
That filled with rapture all who watch
her beauty,
Or heard her silver tongue.
Clothed in while—she heard the wedding
chime,
Blushing beneath her crown of orange flower*,
A 8 her soft answer flows
Like music, with no prescience of the time
When o’er her life, which love so fondly
dowers,
The shadowy grave will close.
Clothed in white—her form we seem to see
Shine in the glory of anew existence,
Delying time and night,
And from all earth-born memories set tree;
While we, like travelers toiling in the dis
tance,
Yearn lor the coming light.
Tin? ley’s Magazine
ITEMS OF INTEREST.
Kite flying is a sport with the grown
people in Southern Asia.
The political situation—A govern
ment office. —Somerville Journal.
Official figures show that 50,000 Ital
ians emigrate to the United States
annually.
Scientists say that one-fifth of the
human brain is composed of phos
phorus.
Sparking across a garden fence admits
of a good deal being said on both sides.
—Saturday Night.
At this time of year nothing will bring
sickness to the boys of the family q uicker
than anew grindstone. —Middletown
Transcript.
Faribault, Minn., laysclaimto having
the oldest horse in the country. It is a
forty-six-year-old mare, a descendant of
the original Justin Morgan.
What is the difference between a
stylish young lady’s cranium and a
hammock? One is a banged head, and
the other is a hanged bed. —Quincy
Modern Argo.
The largest number of emigrants
which f ver arrived in the United State
in one year was about 300,000. The
aggregate during the present year,
is believed, will exceed half a million.
Mark Twain’s Cook Book.
Recipe for New England Pie.—
To make this excellent breakfast dish,
proceed as follows: Take a sufficiency
of water and a sufficiency of flour, and
construct a bullet-proof dough. Work
this into the form of a disk with the
edges turned up some three-fourths of
an inch. Toughen and kiln-dxy it a
couple of days in a mild and unvarying
temperature. Construct a cover for
his redoubt in the same way and of the
same material. Fill with stewed dried
apples, aggravate with cloves, lemoH
peel and slabs of citron; add two por
tions of New Orleans sugar; then solder
on the lid and set in a safe place till it
petrifies. Serve cold at breakfast and
invite your enemy.
Recipe for German Coffee —Take
a barrel of water and bring it to a boil;
rub a chicory berry against a coffee
berry, then convey the former into the
water. Continue the boiling and evapo
ration until the intensity of the flavor
and aroma of the coffee and chicory has
been diminished to the proper degree;
then set aside to cool. Now unharness
the remains of a once cow from the
plow, insert them in a hydraulic press,
and when you shall have acquired a
tefispoonfulofthat pale blue juice which
a German superstition regards as milk,
modity the malignity of its strength in
a bucket of tepid water, and ring up the
breakfast. Mix the beverage in a cold
cup, partake with moderation and keep
a wet rag around your head to guard
against over-excitement.
Words ot Wisdom.
Nothing can constitute good breeding
that has not good nature for its founda
tion.
The only gratification a covetous man
gives his neighbors is to let them see
that he himself is no better for what he
has than they are.
In sad truth half of our forebodings
about our neighbors are but our own
wishes, which we are ashamed to utter
in any other iorm.
The worthiest people are most injured
by slanderers; as we usually find that
to be the best fruit which the birds have
been pecking at.
There is no policy like politeness; and
a good manner is the best thing ih the
world, either to get a good name or to
supply the want of it.
A more glorious victory cannot be
gained over another man than this, that
when the injury began on his part for
the kindness to on ours.
Title and ancestry render a good man
more illustrious, but an ill one more
contemptible. Vice is infamous, though
in a prince; and virtue honorable,
though in a peasant.
Perjury is not only a wrong to a par
ticular person, but treason against hu
man society, subverting at once the
foundation of public peace and justice,
and the private security of every man’s
life and fortune