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THE STANDARD AND EXPRESS.
W.' VffIAHSOHALK,} Editors and Proprietors.
THE PEASANT EOY.
BY CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN.
There’s poo! ry. boy. in that step of thine,
Firmly and free on the green sward pressed ;
And the locVs that over thy temples shine
Flow wi.d in tl wiiul < i the soft son’west. .
C-iro lurks nr t. 1 oy, in that laughing eye;
No frow os o’ercast ihy forehead’s enow ;
And the mellow lints of the morning sky
Fend to thy cheek an eloquent glow.
Thy heirloom is pure, unbroken health,
A eiiterfnl heart to endure thy toil;
And all thou needs* of this world's wealth
Thou caiiVt sturdily wiE from the grateful soil.
V i 4, *e lark's fir t song thou art up and away,
ih-rshing the dew from the glistening sod,
And chanting the simple roundelay
Which innocence sings to the ear of God.
From the ardent -un of cloudless noon,
Ti.ou seetest the shade of a sheltered nook,
Where the ring-d ve muriiiurs its amorous tune
To t'r aniwertrig round of the gushing brook.
There, resting thy limbs on the mossy brink,
Then takes! iu peace thy poor repast,
lien ding thy feverish lips to drink
From the wave that glideth so cool and fast]
Then to labor again, till th ■ waning sun
Fadeth away in the western sky,
And the shades of twilight are creeping on,
While the birds nestle low in the covert high.
They are coming to mee t thee, the peasant band,
The fair-haired girl and tawny boy,
While the baby prattler clasps thy hand.
And breathes thy name lu lisping joy.
To the cottage away ! to thy mother’s knee,
To thy fai tier’s side-thou art welcome there;
That mother's ruble is ever for thee.
And that father gives thee hie warmest prayer.
And thou ehalt rest in slumber sweet,
fh lowed benesth the raftered eaves,
While the suuinmr rair-drops gently beat,
And the i ight winds stirs ?he woodbine leaves.
There’s poetry, bov, in that form of thine,
And tin. gazer covets thy nainless life;
Would that thy storm lees lot were mine
I’assi'rdess, careless, and free from strife.
NANCY’S ENGAGEMENT.
They hung heavy plumes of purple
over the gateway on that bright after
noon—the first of June. A charitable
bn za swept one scented bunch of
bloom a bit as-ide, just out of the leach
of a little brown hand that had a mo
ment ago ruthlessly stripped off half its
blossoms.
But the owner of the hand had al
ready turned about, with a toss of her
backenrls and a flirt of her pink calico
dress that F-cared the butterflies, and
before the branch swung back she was
hastening up the trim garden path, and,
flinging back a sharp speech over her
shoulder at a tall, sunburnt young fel
low who, with a vexed light in his
eyes’, stood watching her.
“ Oh, it don’t matter what I think!
Indeed I don’t think at all. Yon may
take whom you like to the next May
dance ; you won’t take me.’’
It was such a pretty shoulder over
which these words were cast, and there
was such a rosy flush of anger on the
round cheek half wiled in curls, that it
is no wonder John Armitage took two
or three steps in pursuit of the speaker;
but he stooped, drow himself up with
sudden pii--s j, and Baid one reproachful
word.
“Nancy!”
The ore addressed wavered a little in
her retu-ft, then resumed it with in
creased celerity,
"Will you stop and listen to me?"
tin young man queried; his rising in-j
and gnati m somewhat modifying his tone
of appeal.
“ No !’’ and the pink calico swept the
myrtles on either side of the walk faster
yet.
" Very well,” war? the angry response,
a; he who pleaded turned toward the
gate. “ But, mark my words, you’ll be
■sorry for this before these bushes here”
—brushing the low sprays sharply
aside—are out of bloom Now, eood
bye.”
Nancy, peering from behind a curtain
nfier bis retreating figure, cried. Per- j
haps the soliloquy will tell why,
“ Well, it’s all ovc-r with us now, any
way. It's his fault, too. He’d no busi
ness to take any one else to the May
dance when I couldn’t go. I shouldn’t
wonder if he’s gone down to Sarah An
derson’s row. They will be engaged
next thing, aud she’ll erow over mo
finely. He’ll try to make me jealous”
—here N anev had a fit of crying.
"See if I won’t make him jealous
first!”
The way she would do it became
apparent the next afternoon, when
dressed in a jaunty blue silk that set
off well her creamy complexion, dark
ouris and tinted cheeks, she started to
the village. The dainty blue parasol
was lowered a little as she came to the
pretentious block of buildings opposite
the hotel, upon one of which himg the
sign: ‘ 1 Dr. Miles Gray. Office hours
from 8 to 10 a. m. and from 3 to 5
p. ra ” But the face of the building was
blank, aud the office curtains lowered,
’so with an impatient exclamation under
her breath, Nancy went on to the post-
where, getting no letter, she
turned discontentedly toward home.
The fates forbade her. She had not
accomplished a quarter of the distance
before the light roll of wheels made her
turn her head and start perceptibly
In a moment more, young Dr. Gray,
whose natty top-buggy was the envv of
a;i the men, and whose fascinating
smile hud won the hearts of all the wo
men, had drawn up his horse at her
side, had leaped to the ground and
asked her eagerly:
" Miss Evans, may I have the pleas
ure of driving you home !”
The color brightened in Nancy’s
cheeks, the light danced in her eyes, as
she assented with a charming smile;
aud in a moment they were bowling
along the road, and the blue ribbons
were blown against the doctor’s broad
cloth.
Dr. Gray was young, handsome and
not deficient in brains, with pocket
money enough to prevent him from be
ing tragically earnest in his profession,
and very much in love with the coquet
tish bit of woman by his side. As for
Nancy, she was a little afraid of the
gray eyes that could be quizzical as well
as admiring, and of the smiles that
sometimes curled the comers of the
black mustache. But Nancy was minus
a lover just then, the doctor was quite
a "catch,” and so she laughed and
chatted as the bay horse trotted along.
The farm-house came in sight too
soon, and the doctor stopped midway
in a speech to inquire :
“ Won’t you take a longer ride? It’s
such a beautiful afternoon !”
Nancy demurred, as in duty bound.
, “ I—don’t know. I guess it must be—
most tea time.”
The doctor laughed, and held his
watch before her. It was precisely four.
“ Oh, well, then,” began Nancy,
somewhat confused. “ But aren’t these
your office hours ?”
‘ ‘ Confound my office hours!” com
mented the doctor to himself. Aloud
he said : “I’m sometimes obliged to
break through my office hours. I’m
going now to see a—patient on the out
skirts of the town.” So they drove on.
The “ patient ” could not have been
in a critical state. The doctor leaning
back in the carriage, let the reins lie
loosely on the horse’s back as they
passed slowly through shady wood
roads smelling of pines, while the warm
breezes flattered light curls across
Nancy’s areh black eyes and a blue eilk
parasol had to be held up to keep the
sun from her rosebud of a face. The
doctor had a lurking fear that Nancy
vas rustic and ignorant, but ah ! she
was so pretty !
How far they rode in this lazy way,
wholly wrapt in conversation, is not
known. How far they would have rid
den is not certain, if Nancy had not
sent a mischievous glance straight into
the gray eyes, and inquired :
“ Why, where does that patient of
yours live ?”
The doctor laughed frankly, coloring
nevertheless.
"I see yon understand the ‘ways
that are dark and the tricks that are
vain,’ pretty well, Miss Nancy. And now
I don’t dare to tell yon what I was go
ing to before you spoke.”
“ What was it ?” queried Nancy, cu
rious and conscious
“It was,” said the doctor, bending
his own face closer to the curl shaded
one at his side, “ that I wish I had the
right to keep you with me always. Miss
Nancy, well, look at me—will you let
me ?”
It was well that the doctor did not
guess why,amid Nancy’s bright blushes,
her lips quivered and her eyes filled
with tears. She had made up her mind
to accept the doctor, but in this decisive
moment the thought of John Armitage
sent a pang, cruel in intensity through
her heart. Then came the memory of
their yesterday’s quarrel, and Nancy
faltered with a struggling smile.
“ I—l don’t know,”
She did know, when in the late twi
light she and the doctor walked to
gether into the dusky sitting-room at
home, where her father was dozing and
her mother knitting, to ask their con
sent and their blessing.
" Dear me,” said the good father,
rubbing his eyes. “ Two such pieces of
news in one day’s cur’us hereabouts. I
heerd on’y an hour since that Johnnie
Armitage is goin’ to Texas to farm on
his own account. I sorter thought, too,
’t he an’ Nancy fancied each other, but
here she’s wantin’ to mary another. It’s
enr’ue.”
Nancy had taken her hand from the
doctor’s arm and had sat down in the
window. She heard mistily comments
and congratulations, laughed at jokes.
She walked down to the gate with the
doctor when he left and stood there un
der the lilacs, his arm about her, re
plying to his tender talk ; but when he
was gone, leaving a farewell kiss on her
lips, she rushed up stairs and threw
herself on the bed in a perfect agony
of sobbing that she could hardly stifle
in the pillow. .
The story of the next week is hack
neyed. Such happenings are too com
mon. Nancy came and went like the
ghost of herself, but the whole village
was gossipping over her engagement,
and her evidences of trouble were
ascribed to the “queerness of a girl
just engaged.” Little tired Mrs. Armi
tage ran over across lots one afternoon
to tell the Evanses that John was going
on Monday, and she guessed he would
manage to get over and bid them good
bye ; and cried because her pet son was
going away, and was cool and sharp to
Nancy, evidently suspecting that she
was the cause.
Perhaps light natures suffer most
overwhelmingly. Often in these beau
tiful June days Nancy, all alone in some
shadowy, grassy place, with sun
beams shimmering above, would won
der in a dim, childish way if she should
not “die when John went.” Only one
hope was left. John was coming to say
good-bye. Oh, if she could only let
him know how it really was ! But how
could she? and she wonld look down
desparingly at the little gold circlet on
her finger.
Sunday afternoon John finally came.
Nancy, sitting in the parlor with the
doctor, caught a glimpse of the well
known figure at the gate under the li
lacs again. For a few moments the
room whirled around and she was
deathly white, then she rose mechan
ically, saying she must bid Mr. Armi
tage good-bye, and she went out to the
doorway, where John was greeting with
her parents and warding off the New
foundland with a laugh.
"Yes,” he was replying, as Nancy
came up, “ they say there is a pretty
good chance out there for a young fei
low with health and energy—how do
you do, Miss Nancy ?—and I’ve always
been enterprising, so I mean to try it.”
Nancy stood pulling the rose vines to
prices, while for an hour the others
talked crops, politics and prospects.
She could not have spoken for her life,
though she longed to speak as a con
demned criminal longs to ask for mercy.
Not once di.! John turn his obstinate
auburn head to look at or spe-k to her,
and at last be rose to go. He inter
rupted himself while detailing partic
lars about grazing lands, to say good
bye while he just touched her hand. If
he had looked at her, the miserable,
pathetic look of apoeal would have
gone straight to his heart, but he did
not dare to look, and turning away ab
ruptly, walked down the garde.i path
with the garrulous farmer hobbling by
his side.
Nancv had just time to escape her
mothfr’s eye by running up the stairs,
gjbe did not faint; but God forbid that
girls should often know such misery as
she suffered then. When she at last
joined the doctor, as in duty bound, the
stunned look in her face was pitiful.
She “ was Bot well,” she said,Jin answer
to his alarming queries.
It was Nancy who proposed that they
should go to church that evening. In
the corner of the high old pew, with
her veil hiding her face, she could at
least be juiet, and one hour more of ef
fort would have been insupportable.
Mrs. Armitage was alone in her pew,
ar.d cried silently all through the ser
vice. Nancy’s heart so went out to the
poor woman that, when they met in the
aisle she pressedjier hand impulsively,
saying, in a quick whisper, “ Mrs.
Armitage, Fm so sorry for you.”
“ I don’t want any of your sorrow !”
was the sharp response. “ It’s fine
talk ; but you and I know well enough
who’s the cause of it all. One word
from you wonld stop it now if you were
‘ sorry’ enough !”
Poor Nancy ! The clock was on the
stroke of 11 that night when her lover
finally took Lis leave, and she war, free
to paoe the moon-lit sitting room from
end to end with set lips and glittering
eyes. She did not cry. She felt as if
she was goiDg crazy, and in her desper
ation she did not oare if she did. Hour
after hour passed, and still she paced
there, till her rigid face showed white! y
in the first faint gray of morning.
"Oh, would he go! could he go!
Would nothing happen to stop him ? ’
Scarcely knowing what she was doing,
Nancy slipped through the door, and
hatless, trailing her daiuty blue dress
through the dewy grass, rau across lots
to the Armit&ges.
It was still dark and dewv. Slio
heard the village clock strike 3 as she
paused on the outskirts of the old
fashioned flower-garden behind the
honee, and shrunk behind the hedge of
blossomy Macs, whose potent cdor
sickened her. Her mind was in a whirl.
She did not know why she was there,
or what she would do. She was in
deadly fear lest someone should dis
cover her, yet she could not turn away.
For half an hour she crouched there
shiverinily, never taking her eyes off
John’s window, but starting every time
the curtain blew. Suddenly a step on
the garden path started her so violently
that she could scarcely suppress a
scream.
It was probably gome of the work
people—ch, if they should see her ! A
hasty peep through the bushes showed
her that it was more than that; it was
John himself, striding straight toward
the gap in the hedge, and wearing a
most unpropitious face. Nancy, in
blind terror of discovery, crawled on
her hands and knees close under the
lilacs, lie-had passed, and was almost
by when a bird that Nancy had disturb
ed flew out with loud eUrping. One
end of the loose blue sash had caught
on a stiff bough, and the color arrested
his eye. Two strides brought him to
the spot, and he stood with folded arms
looking down at her a moment before
his amazement found vent in the excla
mation :
“Nancy ?”
He had never seen such utter aban
don and agoßy of shame es that with
which the poor little maiden hid her
face and cowered in the wet grass, with
the cry :
“ Oh, what shall Ido? Don’t speak
to mo! Go away !” and burst into a
storm of tears.
For answer he gathered the little wet
figure in his arms, smoothed the tumb
led curls, tried to warm her icy hands,
and did not dare to question while he
soothed her in his tenderest way.
“ Take me home,” said Nancy as soon
as she found strength to speak at all.
“I shall do no snob thing,” was the
decided answer, as John’s disengaged
hands raised her face so that he could
see it, “ till you tell me why you came,
Nancy. I couldn’t help hoping a little
when I saw you here. But don’t make
me give it up ! I thought my pride
would support me through anything,
but I am afraid it won’t do it,” he
ended, sadly.
“I’m so glad it won’t!” breathed
Nancy, in tones of heartfelt relief.
“ But somebody’ll see us. Take me
home, John, and I’ll tell you all
about it.”
How different seemed the way home,
with John at her side. But Nancy was
in no hurry to “tell about it.” She
only said, nervously, holding John’s
hand in both hers :
“ Promise me you won’t go away.”
“Ah, but I want another promise
first.”
Nancy looked back at the plumy
hedges whose shelter they had left, and
said, with a half smile. “ You see the
lilacs aren’t out of bloom yet, John; I
am sorry, as you said I’d be !”
"And tjje doctor?” asks the critical
reader. Ab, Nancy is no model of
Christian maidenhood. She is only a
faulty young girl, erring and loving and
suffering, playing her part in one of the
tragedies that are piayed everywhere in
the springs and autumns, in the time
of lilaos.
The Tortilla.
A Mexican correspondent says: “The
most popular stands on the Plaza wore
those of the tortilla makers. Approach
ing one of these, we watched with in
terested curiosity a cheerful-looking,
mahogany-colored woman who (seated
on a stool with the inevitable enfant a
la mamelle), was rapidly preparing the
popular cake. Taking a ball of corn
meal dough about the size of a small
egg, sh* oatted it into shape between
the palm* of her hands, and placing it
on her right knee (which is supposed to
be covered by her one garment), by
skilful manipulation of her fingers she
stretched it to the size and thinness
of a gentleman’s pocket-handkerchief.
Lastly with equal art she spread it
lightly into an eartliern pan of boiling
fat, where in less than no time it be
came as transparent and crisp as a sheet
of thin glass. Handfuls of these savo
ry-looking wafers disappeared among
the bystanders, who fancied they were
getting a quid pro quo for their clacos
(coppers), but found, alas! they had
swallowed but a bubble. This is not,
however, the ordinary tortilla, which
forms the staple provender of nine
tenths of the population, but only a
fancy variety indulged in on fete occa
sions. The genuine article is not half
so thin or brittle and bears a distant
but discernible relation to a piece of
good, strong buckskin, which has been
well soaked in water and then partially
dried. It is composed simply of finely
ground Indian meal, moistened and
laboriously worked, until its glutinous
element is fully developed, then made
into thin cakes about the size of a din
ner-plate, and finally baked or rather
heated on a griddle, just so much as
not to destroy its tenacity and flexibili
ty. These twe qualities are essential to
a good tortilla, for it is valued not only
for its intrinsic merits as an article of
safe ;.nd easy digestion, but is used as
a wrapper for baked frijoles, ohiles, or
bits of boiled beef.”
Contested Seats in the House.
In the house of the forty-third con
gress the following are the contested
seats, so far as known :
| wft" Seat } Contend
Alabama 1 Haralson, (B.) Bromberg, (D.)
Alabama 4 Hays, (R.) Jones, (D.)
Florida 1 Purman, (R.) Henderson, (D.)
Georgia 1 Hartrldge, (D.) Bryant, (R.)
Georgia 2|Bmith, (D.) Whit-eley, (R.)
Georgia sj Candler, (D.) Mills, (R.)
Illinois 2 Harrison, (D.) Ward, (R.)
Illinois 3 Farwell, (B.) LeMoyne, (D.)
Illinois 91 Whiting, (R.) R :>ss, (D.)
Indiana 9 1 Hunter, (R.) Rice, (D.)
Indiana 13 Baker, (R.) Kelley, (D.)
Louisiana
Maryland 6 Walsh, (I>.) Bowndes. (R.)
Massachusetts 4 Frost, (R.) Abbott, (D.)
Minnesota 2; Strait, (R.) Cox, (D.)
Ohio 10 Foster, (R.) Scney, (1).)
Pennsylrania. 1 Freeman, (R.) Blorenee, (D.)
Pennsylvania. 27 F.gbert, (D.) Curtis, (R.)
S. Carolina 8 Hoge, (R.) McGowan, (D.)
8. Carolina 4 Wallace, (R.) Kershaw, (D )
Virginia 2 Goode. (D.) ,Platt, (R.)
Wisconsin a Cate, (D.) McDill, (R.)
T > .JRepublicans, 13!Democrats, IS
~" s f . Democrats, 81 Republicans, 8
To the above number of twenty-one
seats must be added several, perhaps
ali, of the Louisiana seats, and possibly
others of which there are, as yet, no
advices of a contest. On the other
hand, some of the above mentioned
contests, now spoken of in the press,
may not be brought before the house.
—A western paper says deal era in
butter classify it as wool-grease, cart
grease, soap-grease, variegated, tasse
lated cow-grease, boaidinghouse break
fast, inferior tub, oomrnon tub, medium
roll, good roll and gilt-edge roll. The
terms are strictly technical.
CARTERSVILLE, -GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 13. 1875.
The Philosophy of Pain.
Sir Humphrey Davy, when a boy,
with the defiant constancy of youth
which had as yet suffered nothing, held
the opinion that pain was no evil. He
was refuted by a crab who bit his toe
when he was bathing, and made him
roar loud enough to be heard half a
mile off. If he had maintained, instead,
that pain was a good, his doctrine would
have been unimpeachable. Unless the
whole constitution of the world was al
tered, our very existence depends upon
our sensibility to suffering. An anec
dote, which is quoted by Dr. Carpenter
in his ‘ Principles of Human Physiol
ogy,’from the ‘Journal of a Natural
ist,’ shows the fatal effects of a tempo
rary suspension of the law of our
nature.
A drover went to sleep on a winter’s
evening upon the platform of a lime
kiln with one leg resting upon the
stones which had been piled up to burn
through the night. That which was
gentle warmth when he lay down, be
came a consuming fire before he rose up.
His foot was burnt eff above the ankle,
and when, roused in the morning by the
man who superintended the lime kiln,
he put his stump, unconscious of his
misfortune, to the ground, the extrem
ity crumbled into fragments. Whether
he had been lulled into torpor by the
carbonic acid driven off from the lime
stone, or whatever else may have been
the cause of his insensibility, he felt no
pain, and through his very exemption
fiom this lot of humanity, expired a
fortnignt afterwards in Bristol hospital.
Without tue warning voice of pain,
life would boa series of similar disas
ters. The crab, to the lasting detri
ment of chemistry, might have eaten
off the future of Sir Humphrey’s foot
while he was swimming, without his
entertaining the slightest suspicion of
the ravages which ware going on. Had
he survived the injuries from the crab,
he would yet heve been cut off in the
morning of his famous career, if when
experimenting upon the gases, the ter
rible oppression at his chest had not
warned him to cease inhaling the car
buretted hydrogen, nor after a loDg
struggle for life, would he have recov
ered to say to his alarmed assistant, * I
do not think I shall die.’
Without physical pain infancy would
be maimed or perish before experience
could inform it of its danger. Lord
Kaimeß advised parents to cut the fin
gers of their children ‘ cunningly’ with
a knife, that the little innocents might
associate suffering with the glittering
blade before they could do themselves
a worse injury ; but if no smart accom
panied the wound they would cut up
their own fingers with the same glee
that they cut up a stick, and burn them
in a candle with the same delight that
they burn a piece of paper in the fire.
Without pain we could not proportion
our actions to the strength of our frames,
or our exertions to its powers of en
durance.
In the impetuosity of youth we should
strike blows that would crush our hands
and break our arms; we should take
leaps that would dislocate our limbs,
and, no longer taught by fatigue that
the muscles needed repose, we should
continue our sports and our walking
tours till we had worn out the living
tissue with the same unconsciousness
that we now wear out our coats and
shoes. The very nutriment which is
the support of life would frequently
prove our death. Mirabeau said of a
man who was as idle as ho was oorpu
lenfc, that his only use was to show
how far the skin would stretch without
bursting. Without pain this limit would
be constantly exceeded, and epicures, ex
periencing no uneasy sensations, would
continue their festivities until they met
with the fate of the frog in the fable,
who was ambitious ot emulating the
size of the ox.
Sir Charles Bell mentions the case of
a patient who had lost the sense of heat
in his right hand, and who, unconscious
that the cover of a pan which had fallen
into the fire was burning hot, took it
out and deliberately returned it to its
proper place, to the destruction of the
skin of the palm and fingers. This of
itself would be an accident of incessant
occurrence, if the monitor were wanting,
which makes us drop such things quick
er than we pick them up. Pain is the
grand preserver of existence, the sleep
less sentinel that watches over our safe
ty, and makes ns both start away from
the injury that is present and guard
against it carefully in the time to come.
—London Quarterly Review.
A Petrified Honey-Comb.
Charles Warren Stoddart, writing to
the San Francisco Chronicle, says iu
describing a visit to the rains of Pom
peii : “ I cannot understand how a peo
ple who are supposed to have been lux
urious in their tastes ever lived in such
ridiculously small houses as are those
of Pompeii. The bed-rooms are like
state-rooms, and the stone bed?, like
berths, fill the longest side of the apart
ment. There are no garden spots;
even the baths, the crowning luxury of
the time, are small. The Forum and
some few of the temples are of more
respectable dimensions, but the resorts
of 80,000 people could hardly be less.
The private life of the Pompeiians must
have been narrow, meagre, and un
healthy. The gardens without the city
probably afforded their only means of
recreation, and I wonder how any one
who has once breathed pure air ean have
returned to sleep in suoh miserable
(quarters as are the Pompeiian bed
rooms. Single partitions between all
the housf s, no gardens, no open courts
save in the mansions of the wealthy,
and the glare of the southern sun
streaming on walls glowing with red
and yellow paint—such was Pompeii in
its best days. No doubt it was a bril
liant and lively spectacle, and Bulwer
has made the most of it. It seemed to
me the correct thing to loaf about the
place alone with a copy of Balwer’s
* Last Days’ in my pocket. This I did
at a later date. I frightened the lizards
in the Forum and cba=ed butterflies in
the temple of Isis and languished in the
house of the wounded Adodis, for it was
awfully hot. I sat the sole spectator in
the well-preserved amphitheatre, and
walked in the street of the tombs. The
‘ house of the Tragic Poet’ received me,
and I explored for myself some dark
passages that led under certain houses,
where I met with au odor of sulphur
that was almostoverpowing.”
—The Woman’s Journal notices the
progress of the sex in England. It
says : There is growing up in England
a iarge class of women who do not mar
ry, but who apparently wish not to
marry. They deliberately devote them
selves to literature, to teaching, to some
trade, generally an artistic one, at any
rate to some occupation that gives a
livelihood and tends to culture, and this
they choose for life. The marrying
instinct seems dead, or rather never to
have been born in them,
Quaint Advertisements.
The Pall Mall Gazette, speaking of a
“ History of Advertisements from the
Earliest Times,” says;
The following notioe saw the light a
few years ago in a Prinoetown, Indiana,
journal :
“ Wanted, two or three boarders of a
decent strips, such as go to bed at nine
o’clock without a pipe or cigar in their
mouths. I wish them to rise in time to
wash their faoes and oomb their heads
before breakfast. When they put on
their boots to draw on their pants over
them, and not to have them rumpled
about their knees, which is a sure sign
of a aowdy. When they Bit down to
rest or warm by the fire, not to put
their feet on the mantlepieoe or bureau,
nor spit on the bread tray. And to pay
their board weekly, monthly, or quar
terly—as may be agreed upon—with a
smile upon their faces, and they will
find me as pleasant as an opossum up a
persimmon tree.
Old Mecalla.
Another advertisement quoted is de
lightfully characteristic of the fussy
city magnate. It was issued, it is said,
by the mayor and common councilmen
of one of our university towns :
“ Whereas a multiplicity of dangers
are often incurred by damage of out
rageous accidents by fire, we, whose
names are undersigned, have thought
proper that the benefit of an engine,
bought by us for the better extinguish
ing of which by the accidents of the
Almighty God may unto us happeD, to
make a rate to gather benevolence for
the better propagating such useful in
struments.
Then, was there ever a more exquis
itely ludicrous disclaimer of identity
with an individual who had rendered
the name common to himself and the
advertiser unpleasantly notorious than
to the one which was posted over all
the dead-walls in Dublin in 1781 ?
"This is to certify that I, Daniel
O’Flannagan, am not the person that
was tarred and feathered by the Lib
erty mob, on Tuesday last; aud lam
ready to give 20 guineas to any one that
will lay me 50 that I am the other man
that goes by my name.”
Mr Sampson gives us many more
advertisements fully as eccentric and
ridiculous as the foregoing. He gives,
also, a number exceedingly illustrative
of a past not very remote, like this,
which appeared in 1804 :
“ To be disposed of, for the benefit
of the poor widow, a blind man’s walk
in a charitable neighborhood, the com
ings-in between twenty-five and twenty
six shillings a week, with a dog well
drilled, and a staff in good repair. A
handsome premium will bo expected.
For further particulars apply at. No. 40
Ohiswell street.”
Our anthor prints some curious sam
ples of advertisements concerning errant
wives ; aud samples still more curious
of the retorts which such advertise
ments sometimes provoke. We cannot
resist qnoting one of the latter, which
appeared originally in the Connecticut
Courant, 1806 :
“ Thomas Hutchins has advertised
that I have absented myself from his
bed and board, and cautioned any per
sons against making me any payment
on his account. I now advertise the
public that the same Thomas Hutchins
came as a fortune-teller into this town
about a year ago with a recommenda
tion which, with some artful falsehoods,
induced me to marry him. Of the
four wives he had before me, the last he
quarreled away; how the other three
came by their deaths he can best inform
the public ; but I caution all widows or
maidens against marrying him, be
their desire for matrimony ever so
strong. Should he make his advances
nnder a feigned name, they may look
out for a little, talkative, strutting,
feeble, meagre, hatchet-faced fellow,
with spindle shanks and a little warped
in the back.
“ Thankful Hutchins.”
Destructive Possibilities of Coal-oil
Lamps.
A series of experiments was performed
in the offioe of the new fire department
headquarters yesterday, to show that
coal-oil lamps of all ordinary patterns
aie liable to explode at, almost any time
while burning good proof oil. It is
argued that explosions may at any time
take place by the flame from the wick
passing liown the tube and igniting the
gas which forms on tbe oil. This gas,
it is claimed, is present whenever the
temperature of the oil reaches seventy
five or eighty degrees. The fact has
been pretty well demonstrated that it is
impossible to prevent the sale of oil
much below the established grades, and
with such oils the danger is greatly in
creased. The frequency of accidents
from the careless use of coal-oil lamps
makes the subjeot one of especial inter
est to tbe fire department and the in
surance men. Tho experiments yester
day were observed with considerable
interest by quite a number of gentle
men, among whom were Chief Sexton,
of the fire department; W. T. Harris,
superintendent of public schools ; Prof.
Yost, of the American medical college ;
Prof. Merrill, Gas Inspector Blair, and
several others. The first experiment
was made with a lamp provided with a
brass tube about three-fourths of an
inch in diameter, screwed into the neck
and reaching nearly to the bottom of
the oil contained in the bowl of the
lamp. The burner was removed, and
the operator had no fear to introduce a
lighted taper within the tube, even far
enough to reach the oil, while holding
the lamp in his hand. No explosion
occurred, because tho tube prevented
the flame from contact with the gas
that was undoubtedly in the lamp.
The tube was then removed and the
lamp placed on the floor, being then
simply an ordinary coal-oil lamp, with
the top unscrewed. A strip of paper
was then inserted so that one end pro
truded from the orifice. This was set
on fire with a lighted match, and as
soon as it burned into the interior of
the lamp an explosion occurred, show
ing tnat, there was plenty of gas pres
ent. The thermometer was applied,
and the temperature of the oil was
found to be 83 dogs. Fahrenheit. If any
appliance can be found to insure safety
in the use of ooal-oil, it will be a valua
ble invention. The experiments yester
day were incomplete, aud did little
more than to show that there is nothing
but danger in ordinary ooal-oil lamps.
— St. Louis Republican.
—Next spring one hundred English
swells are coming for a grand buffalo
hunt on the Plains. The hunt is to be
organized on a msgnilicent scale. Twen
ty scouts, headed by Buffalo Bill will
chaperon them, and in addition to a vast
retinue of servants, cooks, grooms, and
vale s, they will be accompaniel by a
brass band, which will discourse sweet
music as they gather about their camp
fire to partake of the evening meal of
canned buffalo meat,
CURIOUS AND SCIENTIFIC.
Pre-historic Man. —The catacombs
reported to exist beneath this city, so
accurately described by an English
traveler who examined them in 1806,
and which, by the way, were never
heard of by men who lived in this city
in 1806, and are living in this city still,
are rather losing interest for the public.
The mummies referred to of course
never existed, and the story is a canard
from beginning to end. But, notwith
standing the fallacy of this story, there
can be no doubt that mummies and
other evidences of a pre-historio race,
muoh more civilized than the Indians,
were found in the caves by the early
settlers in Kentucky. Collins, in his
recently published history of Kentucky,
gives ample proof of mummies in several
caves, and gives an accurate description
of the manner in whioh they were em
balmed, and the kind o.f bandages used.
Recently, on a visit to Madison county,
on* attention waa directed to startling
evidences of the existence of this pre
historio race in Kentucky; and what is
more wonderful, there seems to be in
contestibl© proof that our predecessors
©n Kentucky soil were not leas than
eight feet high. Collins refers to some
of these evidences in his chapter on
Madison county, and upon investiga
tion, we found all that he says fully
subtanliated by evidenoe now obtain
able in the neighborhood of the mounds
he refers to. In numerous instances
huaan bones have been disinterred,
which, on comparison with men of ordi
nary size, prove ineontestibly that there
were indeed "giants in those days.”
The manner in which these giants are
interred is peculiar. A cone-shaped
recess is built np, of substantial struc
ture, somewhat resembling a sugar
loaf, bat not so high in proportion.
Inside of this cone the giant sits, his
knees doubled up under his chin. We
believe all of the large skeletons found
up to this date were so interred. Other
evidences of a pre-historic race also ex
ist, and evidences which would seem to
indicate that our predecessors were
from a distant country. In the imme
diate neighborhood of the “ mounds ”
six -shells, lying near together, were re
cently plowed up, and shells of a very
peculiar formation. Such a formation,
as we understand, is only found in
China. They are about eight inches
long and five in number. The large
end is almost flat, and the turn is in the
opposite direction from the way shells
usually turn. We have never seen any
shells resembling them, and none oth
ers were seen, so far as we could learn,
in this country. These things are
facts, and are well worthy the attention
of archaeologists. We do not profess
to be learned in such matters our
selves, and throw out these hints with
a hope that competent persons will
make an explanation in the neighbor
hood we refer to. — Lexington ( Ky.)
Gazette.
Zino a Preventive of Boiler In
crustation. —An engineer on board the
St. Laurent, a steamer plying between
New York Rnd France, after making
some repairs in the boilers, left accident
ally therein an ingot of zinc. Som6
time after, in searching for the bar in
the generator, in which, meanwhile,
steam had been maintained, he f<sund
to his surprise that the metal had dis
appeared, and also that the incrustation
left by the water, instead of being hard
and firm, was a mere mud, easily
washed out. Repeating the experiment
over another voyage, the same result
was reached. M. Lesueur, of Angers,
France, after examining into this cir*
oumstance, thinks that the zinc
forms a voltaio ceuple with the iron of
the boiler, zino being the negative pole
and the iron the positive. It then hap
pens, as in all batteries, that the zinc
is consumed; while the iron is pro
tected both from oxidation and disso
lution.
Tin-Canned Butter.— The i resident
of the New York butter and cheese ex
change lately received a package of
Danish butter, which, although it had
been placed in tin for more than seven
teen monthp, was in excellent condition.
It came from Bolivia, where it had
been sent from London, and was accom
panied by a note addressed to the New
York butter and cheese merchants, ask
ing if as good a quality of butt or could
be produced here. If as good butter
could be made here, New York would
soon have control of the trade of the
South American markets, as the cost
was too great to get their butter direct
from London. It was decided that but
ter of as good quality could be made in
this country. Arrangements will be
made to secure the South American
trade, and tin will be used for packing
purposes instead of wood.
A Good Suggestion. —A writer in the
London B ailder suggests that thick glass
might be easily and cheaply cemented
to the walls of hospitals, etc. It would
be non-absorbent, imperishable, easily
cleaned, readily repaired if damaged
by accident, and, unlike paper and paint,
wonld always be as good as at first.
Glass oan be cut or bent to conform to
any required shape. If desired, the
plates may be colored any cheerful tint.
The non-fibsorbent quality is the most
important for hospitals and prisons, and,
we should think, worthy the considera
tion of architects.
ABOUT MINKS.
A Sh irt Dip Into Natural History.
One sunny morning in summer, down
the pathway, still sparkling with the
dewy moisture, came stealthily moving
the long, littie form of a mink. Her
fur looked worn and rusty when the
sunlight struck her as she skulked be
tween the tussooks of grass. Occasion
ally she halted to look about her, alert
for anything eye could see or ear could
hear;" but hearing nothing but the
sweet notes of a soDg-Bparrow and the
complaining cry of a cat-bird among the
alders, she again moved on. As she
reached the muddy edge of the brook,
she trod more daintily, then, winding
among the pickerel-weeds, swam down
stream, hardly disturbing the water,
only making a long, wedge-shaped wake
as she stole into the shadowy edge of
the brook. Suddenly she came up,
struggling with something that swayed
and pulled her about, disturbing the
quiet stream, and sending a mnddiness
down with the cntrent. Bat Bhe bore
the almost unmanageable wriggling eel
(for this it was) to the stone wall, and
drawing herself and burden up out of
the water on the large ftone, read
justed her hold, and seized the creature
back of the head. Then bracing her
self to suck the, blood, the thrashing,
struggling eel grew gradually weaker
and weaker, until it looked perfectly
limp and lifeless. Then she jumped
from the wall, dragging the eel longer
than herself, up through the grass, tak
ing a different and more concealed way
than tbe one by which she came, and
soon disappeared altogether.
In the thick-banked wall of this barn
on the hillside she had her young; and
after they grew large enough to require
something more substantial than nature’s
first provision, the mother used to bring
them fish of different kinds—eels, dneks
and like prey. So slyly and stealthily
did she keep herselr, that she was not
seen until the young were half grown,
and looked like little fawn-oolored wea
sels ; when she betrayed herself by
bringing this food, which impeded her
movements. By traveling the same way
so many times she grew bold.
These mink are very destructive to
fish; and when the brook is low they caD
be tracked for a long distance by the
dead eels, pickerel, shiners and some
times trout, lying along the bank, the
mink only sucking the blood and leav
ing the fish unmutilated. One autumn
some small shiners, meant for a bait in
pickerel fishing through the ice, were
kept in an old tub set in the spring
near the brook, and one night all these
fish were killed by a mink, who left
them laid in a row on the ground. They
looked precisely as if some person had
so arranged them. But through the
back of each fish, near tbe head, weie
four tooth-marks, this being frequently
the only mark the mink makes on his
victim.—Old and New.
Pecious Jewels.
Lucy Hooper writes from Paris:
“Among the marvels displayed in the
jeweler’s windows on the Rue de la
Paix, I noticed the other day an im
mense pearl oyster shell, lined with
mother of pearl of the most exquisite
smoothness and purity, and with two
large spotless, lustrous pearls adhering
to its surface. The larger of the two
was about the size of a small marble,
but slightlv elongated in form ; the
other was of somewhat smaller dimen
sions ; $4,500 was the price affixed to
this beautiful work of nature. A smell
ing bottle formed entirely of massed
pearls, with one large one in the cen
ter of the side, and with hook and chain
to correspond, looked like a tasteful
f’ift for a millionaire to offer to hislady
ove ;it was valued at $1,200. Then
there was a locket representing a tor
toise, the back of the animal being
formed of a single large torquoise,
while the head, feet, and tail were
composed of diamonds. I was
shown lately an exquisite parure
of lilies of the valley, gotten up as a
bridal gift to the young daughter of an
eminent Parisian banker. Nothing more
lovely, more artistic, or more girlishly
pare and simple with all its magnifi
cence can be imagined. The flowers
were formed of a single pearl each, the
broad leaves being composed of small
diamonds, and considerable art had
been shown in overcoming the natu
rally stiff look of the leaf. The set
comprised ear-rings, brooch-pendant, a
bracelet, and a spray for the hair. The
braoelet was particularly charming, be
ing literally a small wreath of jeweled
flowers.”
The Sultan and Satan.
There is an eastern story of a Saltan
who overslept himself so as not to
awaken at the hour of prayer. So the
devil came and waked him, and told
him to get up and pray. “ Who are
yon?’’ said the saltan. “O no matter,”
replied the other, “my act is good, is
it not? No matter who does the good
action, so long as it is good.” “Yes,”
replied the sultan, “ but I thiDk yon
are Satan. - I know your face; yon have
some bad motive.” “But,” says the
other, “ I am not so bad as I am painted.
Yon see I have left off my horns and
tail. I am a pretty good fellow, after
all. I was an angel once, and I still
keep some of my original goodness. ’
“That's all very well,” replied the sagac
ious and prudent caliph, “ but yon are
the tempter ; that’s yonr business ; and
I wish to know why yon want me to get
up and pray.” “Well,” said the devil,
with a flirt of impatience, “if yon must
know, I will tell you. If yon had slept
and forgotten your prayers, yon would
have been sorry for it afterward and
penitent, but if you go on, as now, and
do not neglect a single prayer for tee
years, you will be so satisfied with
yourself that it wi’l be worse for yon
than if you. had missed one sometime
and repented of it. God loves yonr
fault, mixed with penitence, more than
your virtue, seasoned with pride.”
Poe’s Miserable Death
In the new volume of Poe’s poems,
edited by R. H. Stoddard, the editor, in
the preface, thus gives the last scene in
the life of Poe : “He started from Rich
mond, Oct. 2, 1849, and arrived at Bal
timore between trains and unfortunately
took a drink with a friend, the conse
quence of which was that he was brought
back from Havre de Grace in a state of
delirium. It was on the eve of a munic
ipal election, and as he wandered np
and down the streets of Baltimore, he
was secured by the lawless agents of a
political club and locked up in a cellar
all night. The next morning he was
taken ont in a state of frenzy, dragged,
and made to vote in eleven different
wards. The following day hi was tound
iu a back room at the political head
quarters, and removed to hospital. He
was insensible when found, and remained
so on Sunday, Oct. 7. The doctor and
nurse were with him when he first
showed consciousness. * Where am I?’
he asked. They answered : ‘ You are
cared for by your best friends.’ After
a pause, in which he seemed to recall
what had occurred, and to realize his
situation, Poe replied, *My best friend
would be the man who would blow out
my brains.’ Within ten minutes he
was dead.”
Fun at Home.
Don’t be afraid of a little fun at
home, good peoplo ! Don’t shut np
your house, lest the sun should fade
your carpets; and your hearts, lest a
hearty laugh should shake down some
of the musty old cobwebs there ! If
you want to ruin your sons, let them
think that all mirth and social enjoy
ment must be left on the threshold when
they come home at nights. When one’s
home is regarded as a place to eat,
drink and sleep in, the work is begun
that ends in gambling houses and reck
less degradation. Young people mast
have fun somewhere. If they do not
find it at their own hearthstones, it
will be sought in other, and, perhaps,
less profitable places. Therefore, let
the fire burn brightly at night, and the
home-nest made delightful with all the
little things that parents so perfectly
understand. Don’t repress the bouy
ant spirits of your children; half an
hour of merriment round the lamp and
firelight of home, blots out the remem
brance of many a care and annoyanoe
during the day, and the best safeguards
they can take with them into the world
is the unseen influence of a bright little
domestic sanotum.
—French officers are not allowed to
marry unless the bride has a fortune of
not less than $5,000. Tbe limit was
formerly 82,000. bqt the price has been
raised,
VOL. lii-NO. 3.
FACTS AND FANCIES.
—What is the largest room in the
w arid ? The room for improvement.
—Why is a side-saddle liks a four
quart jug ? Because it holds a gall-on.
—Dr. Mary Walker’s life is one con
tiaual struggle to keep her pants hitch
eel up without the aid of suspenders.
—Judge Walsh, a judioial despot of
Brooklyn, has decided that a woman
h:ts no right to open her husband •
letters.
-Tom Hood, at a lord mayor’s din
ne *, once leaned back at about the mid
dle of the feast and requested the waiter
to bring him the rest in money.
—One by one the roses fade. It is now
boldly denied that'men who wear long
hair arc possessed of any more talent
than men who have]it snipped dose.
—ln Texas they hang a man'when he
ref isee to marry the girl whose hand he
hat sought, and the poor devil is gen
erally very glad to get off so lightly.
—A young fellow in Grundy county,
lova, wanted to charge his girl 10 cents
for his picture, informing her at the
tin e that it originally cost a quarter.
—Bones of Robert Bruce were quoted
in :3dingburgh at £1 10s apiece, which
is not much of a bonus considering the
length of time they’ve been accumulat
ing interest.
—Abducting children ought to be en
oor raged. After awhile, when the crop
of small boys had become exhausted.
Gome of the big boobies who fire off
pistols on Christmas might be taken.
—The other day a Binghampton girl
offered to let a countryman kiss her for
five oents. “ I gad,” exclaimed the
bucolic youtb, “ that’s darn cheap if a
fellow only had the money.”
—A Kansas gentleman has thought
fully put his front-gate i* the parlor,
so that his daughter and young man
can swing on it without taking oo>d
during the cold weather.
—“ The child has since died ” is the
laconic remark which a Pennsylvania
paper affixes to an account of a twelve
y€r-old girl who had already mastered
logic, rhetoric, geology, botany and the
mysteries of mental and moral science.
—They have anew test for intoxica
tion in Canada. When a man can pro
notuce “ reciprocity” without tripping,
the polioe let nim go. In Maine the
test is “ Erastns Richardson,” and
“ russis risson” is deemed conclusive.
—The New York World describes
hell as a place where everybody be
longs to a fire company. We suppose
that New York and Boston men monop
olism the positions of foremen and
tre:isnrers.
—lt is said that at three years old we
love our mothers; at six, our fathers ;
at ten, holidays; at sixteen, dreßS ; at
tw* nty, our sweethearts; at twenty
five, onr wives ; at forty, our children ;
and at sixty, ourselves.
—A Leavenworth man told a lie, and
then said: “I hope to be struck dead
if 1 have not told the truth! ” He had
sea reel v ceased speaking when he fell
to the floor—a man having knocked him
dotrn.
—A pious but uneducated judge
closed a sentence with the following
touching reproach; “Prisoner at the
bar, nature has endowed you with a
good education and respectable famny
cornections, instead of whieh yon go
ret nd the country stealing duoks.
—A Btuttering broker in New York
latsly asked another, who had a bald
pale, why his head was like h-hash in
a b-boarding-house. The disgusted
friend, on admitting that he didn t
know, was informed that ’twas because
th- there’s a h-liair h-h-here and th-there.
—A lady went into a carpet store re
•ently, and, pointing out a carpet,
ashed the proprietor what it was 1 )
“Brussels,” says the proprietor.
“Brussels,” quoth the lady, passmg
he- hand over it. “Seems to me the
bristles don’t stick up much.
Even in the saloons opinions upon
grave subjects are expressed forcibly,
A gentleman slightly under the inflm
eft-je of the intoxicating bowl furnished
proof of this fact a night or two ago.
“Whisky, zur,” said he, “hie—bright
en i the intellect. It ought, by thunder,
to oe introduced into the public schools,
zur,”
Experiments made within the past
six months have developed the astound
ing fact in natural magic that ,our mes
sages can be sent over a single wire as
re idily as two, and that through mes
sares and local ones can jbe sent witn
or t interfering with one another over
tbe same wire. While for instance,
messages are being simultaneously ex
cl anged between Boston and New Yorfc,
two more can be sent on the same wire
between Boston and Worcester 5 two be
tween Worcester and Springfield, amt
two between Springfield and New
Baven or New York, making m all
eight separate and distinct messages
crossing and recrossing on one vnre > a.
the same moment of time.—O '*
New. ________
The Inventor of the Screw Propeller*
Americans, English, French, Ger
mans and Italians all claim this inveE
t on, and that not for an individual of
each nation; but in some countries
more than one of their sons, dispute
tie honor of being its inventor; ard
probably experiments to discover th
r leans of applying Hie screw as a motive
tower to ships werfe at different periods
spontaneous, independently, and some
times spontaneously made m various
places by inquiring minds, who were
perfect strangers to each other t 0
each other’s discoveries and appliances.
So far back as 1726, David Busbnell,
a native of England’s American colo
nies, made experiments by means of a
screw to propel a submarine torpedo.
Evidently his essays were not success
ful, or those infernal machines wonlo
1 ave been heard of sooner. In *
John Smith, an Englishman, formed a
com pan v and built the first seagoing
screw steamer, appropmtely named the
Arohimedes, from which date the roc
*s of the screw propeller was an w
oorapiished fact. Between 1726 rod
3 836 many inventors took the matte
uStattt™ not until 1532
f he experimentalists,FrederickSau
liit upon the idea of applying
to the screw as a motive P°wer. P
<hat period it had been sought to dne
“he screw by a capstan manned by me ,
ir other cumbrous non- practical means.
In France, Frederic Sauvage 18 V
?red to have the largest share of men*
in practically applying * machine which
is the production of many minds, and
which even now is being continually
improved.
The town of Boulopne-sur-Me, where
Frederic Sauvage was born on the 20tn
of September, 1786, has lately gone to
considerable expem-e in aw aiding to
posthumous honors, which, on Monday,
culminated in the unveiling of a monu
ment to his memory.