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THE STANDARD AND EXPRESS.
SHAKKN DBWOROPs.
KATE HILLAfiD.
On the white bosom of a fair tall flowei
Two j-early dewdropa lie ;
Fresh with the coolness of the midnight hour,
The quiet of the ekv
Each drop is rounded into full completeness ;
The mirror of its breast
Reflects the perfect picture of earth’s sweetness,
The semblance of heaven’s rest.
There comes a little whisper through the roses,
By airy zephyrs borne,
Fresh’ning through all the silent garden-closes,
With tidings of the morn.
The flowers bow their heads in mute devotion
Before the rising sun ;
The dew-drops quiver with the sudden motion.
And tremble into one
With us, dear heart, the shock of suduen trouble
Swept o’er each waiting soul,
And life was so lonely, being double,
Became one perfect whole.
Now thou and I, content because together,
In one securely rest;
Safe from all storms of life’s capricious weather.
Folded in love’s own breast.
Qalnxv for March.
VERONICAS VALENTINE.
After considerable debate upon the
subject in boudoirs and parlors, as well
as at sewing society and other tables,
the ladies of “ St. Philip's” finally de
cided to hold their fair for the friend
less orphans of that parish some time
ufter the holidays.
“Christmas and New Year’s follow
so soon after Taanksgiving one wants
the few weeks that como in between to
attend to one’s own orphan’s,” Jaugh
ingly said Mrs. Whyte, at the last meet
ing concerning that event, upon which
piece of “ good doctrine” it was finally
agreed that the second week in February
would be about the time best suited to
all in which to hold their long-talked-of
fair.
“It doesn’t concern me much when
it comes off,” said Veronica Vallery to
her aunt, as she buttoned up her seal
skin jacket and pinned up her veil.
“ I haven’t any orphans of my own to
attend to, and no * father nor mother to
attend to me. I care for nobody and
nobody cares for me.’ Good day, Mr.
Agnew.”
i'ho gentlemon thus addressed had
joined the ladies as they left the church
door, and, begging permission to walk
on home with them, looked down at the
independent speaker as he said laugh
ingly :
“ I caught your last sentence, Miss
Vallery, and doubt it.”
“Which pait do you doubt ?” asked
Veronica, looking up defiantly.
“It would be rude to answer ‘ the
last half’ to one upon whom every one
seems to look kiudly, and it would per
haps be presuming, upon so short an
acquaintance, to say ‘ the first half,’ so
I will merely repeat, in a general sort
of way, ‘I doubt the truth of your
remark. ’ ”
“Auntie, Mr. Agnew is playing
sphinx. He speaks iu riddh s. I don’t
understand him ; and I’m very sure he
don’t understand me ; ” and’ Veronica
walked on a trifle faster.
“ I beg pardon, Miss Vallery ; it is
no riddle—merely a knowledge I im
agine 1 possess of your character; bet
ter perhaps than you have of yourself. ”
“ Pray confine your studies of char
acter to the limits of your profession,
Mr. Agnew. Lawyers, I believe, have
every opportunity for studdying human
nature in the police dock and such
places. Until Miss Vallery occupies so
public a position she objects to bein°’
‘ studied. ’ ”
“Oh, Veronica! what aio you talk
ing about? ” cried Mrs. Whyte quiokly,
fearful that her two proteges would
quarrel in dead earnest now
Some natures when they draw near
to one another seem like summer storm
clouds, to be charged one with the
positive, the other with the negative
electricity, and in the meeting of such
opposite forces there is always a sharp
report imminent; and Veronica Vallery
and Val Agnew never were half an hour
together that there was not some little
Hash and play of lightning in their
words that threatened danger. And
yet, somehow, like the summer storm
charged clouds, they always seemed to
seek one another, too !
Ihe three walked on in silence now,
until they reached the steps of their
boarding house ; then with some pleas
ant, kind remark, Mr. Agnew left the
ladies in the hall and went up the long
wide stairs to his room. The ladies
stopped a few minutes in the parlor.
“ \ eronica Vallery,” began her aunt,
in a tone of reproof.
“ Exactly, auntie—Veronica Vallery ;
only add spinster, tnd well calculated
to take care of herself, and you will
have my name and nature complete,
and no words about it, if you please.”
“ I cannot understand what makes
Veronica so rude to Vai Agnew,” said
Mrs. Whyte that evening after she had
repeated the passage of arms she had
taken place between them that after
noon ; “ and to me, too, for that mat
ter, when I take her to task about it. I
never saw Val so interested iu any girl
before. He wants to talk about her
every time he comes into my room, and
asks all sorts of questions; while she
appears to be governed entirely by his
opinions and tastes, says he is the most
gentlemanly gentleman she ever knew,
quotes Bayard s motto, ‘ iSans peur et
sans rcproche, ’ when speaking of him,
and yet Bhe is too hateful to him for
any thing. I don't understand it!”
“Well, Ido,” answered Mr. Whyte
from the depths of the long German
pipe he was smoking.
“You?—ridiculous!” and Mrs. Why te’s
tone expressed absolute incredulity.
“ Yes, I do. They’re in love with
one another;” and the volume of smoke
that followed the assertion seemed ap
propriate to the cannon-like effect the
words had upon his hearers.
-lumping up from the rocking-chair
as though she had been shot, Mrs.
Whyte exclaimed:
W hy, James Whyte, 1 never thought
of that! and iu’s the very thing, too,”
she went on volubly. “ Val will make
the very sort of a husband Veronica
needs—eome one to control her as well
as her fortune. ”
“ But remember, I don’t say it will
end in their being husband and wife.
Love does not always bring about that
consumation so devoutly to be wished,
rhey are a precious pair of contraries,
and because it is a geod match for both
they very likely will turn just opp>
r 6 * k°th make poor ones. I
Shan t put a straw in their way, for nor
against. Let them manage it them
selves.”
But this little gleam of light on the
subject of Veronica’s behavior illumi
nated all Mrs. Whyte’s dreams bril
liantly, and she saw in her mini’s eye
her beloved but troublesome niece and
protege the wife of a good man anil
eminent lawyer.
Ihe fair was announced for the 14th,
and the ladies rf the committee de
cided they would have, as one of the
attractions for the evening, the old
time-honored “postoffice.”
“And, girls,” said Mrs. Whyte, who
was one of the prime ministers, “you
must all set your wits to work and
write the brightest kind of notes.
Veronica, yon used to be apt at verse
making. You shall ‘do ’ the poetry.” ■*
The evening of the 14th arrived, and
the pretty little hall in which it was
held was a scene of brilliant gajety.
Val Agnew lounged in late, and not
seeing Miss Vallery amongst the bevy
of pretty girls at the table, he inquired
for her.
“ Oh. she’s postmistress,” answered
a pretty little brunette at his elbow;
“and, by the by, I think there’s a let
ter for you. Go see. ”
Mr. Agnew obeyed the command,
and presenting himself at the narrow
little window of the office, gravely
asked for a letter.
Veronica blushed a little as she an
swered, “I think there is one here for
you.” Then turning round she per
formed a queer little pantomime.
Closing her eyes tightly she put her
hand on the pile of undirected letters
that lay beside her, selecting one at
random, looked out of the window again
and asked the nsual question :
“ What name?”
“Valentine Agnew.”
Veronica started with the pen in her
hand :
“Is that yonr true name, Mr. Ag
new? Someone told me it was Val
dimir.”
“No, lam Valentine. I was called
for my father’s friend, a famous sur
geon with that surname, but I prefer
red to be a doctor of law, instead of
doctor of medicine. I study charac
ter, you know, not physics ! ”
The pen dashed off the name, and
the letter was handed to its owner
without a word. Then, as Val Agnew
walked away, Veronica called in a hesi
tating sort of voice after him, “ Mr.
Agnew, if you hear good news will you
let me know?”
“ With pleasure, Miss Vallery. You
surprise me with your curiosity; can
any news to me be of any interest
whatever to you?
4 4 Possibly. I’m a surprising creature
haven’t you found that out yet ? Good
night.”
And echoing her abrupt “good night,”
Val Agnew put his 44 letter” in his vest
pocket, and strolled on with the crowd.
He didn't think of the little missive
again until he got home up in his room
that night. Taking it then out of his
vest, he examined the penmanship
closely. 44 It's a bold, firm hand, de
notes strength of character and a pas
sionate nature. If she had written the
contents, too, and to me, I wonder what
they would have been like ? As it is,
I suppose it’s only some girlish non
sense,” and with these words Val Agnew
opened the envelop, carefully put it
back again in his pocket, and then un
folded the letter.
“What is this?” he exclaimed.
44 The same hand !” and he read—
“Go, little verse, to him I love, my king, tuy
cavalier—
And like a timid, tender dove, fly to his heart
4 sans fear - ”
So swift and sure creep in hia breast he shall
not feel the broach ;
There build your little happy nest of love,
pure, ’sans reproach.’
“ So sing your pretty, tender lay it shall pierce
thro’ and thro’
His inmost heart, and e’er shall stay, strong,
steadfast and true.
Then, when 1m hears it sweet and clear it’s im
port he’ll divine,
And, like a faithful cavalier, he’ll know his
Valentine."
Ah, why did Val Agnow’s face flush
and his heart beat at the simple little
lines! Something in the ring of the
words sounded so like a dear voice he
knew and loved, he dared to hope the
44 Valentine” indeed was meant for him.
Mr. Whyte was 44 interviewed” very
early next morning, and in that way
Val Agnew soon learned who “ did” the
poetry for the fair post-office.
Accordingly, a few hours later, when
MissVallery’s blue morning dress swept
past the little bay window room at the
head of the stairs on her way up from
breakfast, she was 44 interviewed” as
well, for Mr. Agnew arrested her as she
passed the door with—
-441 want to speak to you. I promised
to report if I got good news. Come in
and let me tell you what my letter told
me.”
Veronica turned a trifle paler than
her wont, but obediently entered the
cosy little room where the bright warm
sunshine shone down on the pretty tab
leau vivant. He, tall and dark and
strong, with a steadfast courage in his
face. She slight and fair and weak,
with a yielding tenderness in hers.
“ Veronica, I got a valentine,” said
he, looking down into her face.
“You got it!”
Ah, the start, the tone, and the em
phasized verb were all true tell-tales.
44 And you meant that I should, did
you not, Veronica ? Were those sweet
words not written from your heart to
mine? I love you so dearly. Do not
trifle with me any longer, Veronica. I
have dared not to hope in vain !”
Then Miss Vallery's trembling hards
held themselves out for support, and
Miss Vallery’s head rested itself on the
same spot in Val Agnews vest that cov
ered her valentine of the evening be
fore.
“And you did write it, every word,
to me, darling?” asked Mr. Agnew, at
length.
“I wrote it to ‘him that I loved so
dearly,’” answered Veronica, looking
up into her lover’s eyes as she conti n
ued, “ 4 If among the many letters be
neath my hands,’ thought I, when you
asked me for one, ‘the 44 Valentine ” I
have written to him be the one I pick
out with my eyes e osed, and with no
knowledge whatever of which it is
surely fate sha’l will it that w’e belong
to one another.’ And of all the letters,
to think that should be the very one 1
selected!”
“ And you even did not know my
name ?”
“No, I thought you were ealled Val
for Valdimir. I did not know you were
my Valentine !”
“And you do care for somebody
now ?”
“ Ah, yes, now; and somebody cares
for me,” somebody answered very em
phatically.
Mrs. Whyte says she supposed it
44 went by the rale of contraries.”
Everybody thought they were just
suited for oue another, and, of course,
wouldn’t have one another, and so they
44 proved the exception to the rule.”
But Mr. Agnew says it was her verses
that got her “Veronica’s Valentine !”
Hearth and Home.
Mrs. Sanford, of Connecticut, lured
by an Adonis of eighteen summers, has
eloped from her third husband. Per
haps Anna Dickinson will stand up and
say that nobody ought to throw sand
on that kind of women.
A good rhinoceros c sr.* 50,600, and
unless there’s a great decline in the
market most of us mnßt be satisfied
with a five dollar parlor mat having a
colored tiger stamped on it.
“Little Dan.’’
You see, the people at the poatoffice
soon recognize faces and names, and
after a man or woman has appeared at
the general-delifery window three cr
four times they are pretty well known.
It is a real pleasure to hand oat letters
to some, while the clerks care little fot
the calls of others to get hold of their
epistles.
One day a year or two ago a funny
looking little old woman, wearing faded
garments, but having a tidy look and a
motherly face, appeared at the window
and asked for a letter. There was one
for her, sent from a distant city, and
any one could have told that an un
learned boy directed the envelope.
There was a little 44 and ” in Detroit,”
with a big “T” to end the word, and
it seemed wonderful thac the letter ever
reached its destination.
The old lady felt so good that, tears
in her eyes and yet trying hard to
smile, she put her head into the window
and said :
“ Thanks! It’s from my boy Dan,
and you don’t know how much good it
does me !”
The lady delivery clerk rose up to
look after the old woman, and when a
second letter came she was looking and
watching for “mother” a whole day
before the letter was passed out.
44 It’s from my little Dan again,”
cried the old woman as she noted the
superscription. 44 He's in Buffalo,
learning a trade. He’s only a bit of a
boy and there wasn't a show for him in
Detroit, and beside he was running out
nights and going to the bad. I sent
him away and he’s woiking hard and
trying to be good, God bless my Dan !
I’m a lone widow with only him to love,
and I hope he’ll be good !”
“I hope so, too,” added the clerk and
after that the two were friends. Some
times the letters were far between,
and when the old woman would worry
over the delay, and the big tears would
fall, the lady would almost shed tears
with her. 44 Mother” would op9n her
letters at the window, and if Dan was
feeling brave hearted and getting along
well both would rejoice, while both
would still be anxious if he complained
and was discouraged.
Almost every week for a year and a half
the old lady reoeived a totter, and just
as regularly she came to post an an
swer. She wrote in a quaint old hand,
but the boy could make out every word,
and once when he wrote that her writ
ing was improving she felt all the pride
which a school girl could have shown.
He improved as well. By and by he
wrote “Detroit ” plain and fair, and he
took extra pains to commence his “Dear
mother” with a grand flourish, and to
add something extra after the words :
“Your Son Dan.”
Those letters were food and drink l o
the old lady, and she seemed to actually
grow younger. Little Dan had many
friends in the po3toffice, and had the
mother been ill any carrier would have
hunted till midnight to find her and
hand her the looked-for letter. Three
or four weeks ago when she opened her
letter she wept and smiled as over the
first. Dan wrote that he was coming
for a week, and her heart was full. She
said she’d have the cottage looking like
new for him, and she’d be at the depot
to welcome him first of all. Every body
felt glad with her, and the lady clerk
was to go up some evening and have tea
with her and see little Dan and praise
and encourage him, for the more kind
words a boy can have the better will he
seek to do.
There was no letter the next Tuesday,
but the two excused its absence by say
ing that Dan was getting ready to come
home. That was early in February,
and he was to come about the first of
March. The next Tuesday there was a
letter, but the handwriting was not
little Dan’s. It was a strange, business
hand, and the clerk felt a chill go over
her as she turned it over. It might
be good news, but she feared not.
“Mother” came in at the regalar hour,
and she turned pale as she took the
envelope. Her fingers trembled as she
opened it, and she had to wipe the mist
out of her eyes before she could de
cipher a word. She hadn’t read over
four or five lines when she uttered a
moan and sank right down, like one
crushed by some awful weight. They
lifted her tip and took her home, the
letter clasped in her stiff fingers, and
though she came out of the faint after
a while her heart was broken, and in a
week she was in her grave.
Dan was dead ! The letter said that
he hai been taken suddenly ill, and
that nothing could save him. The blow
was too heavy for one with her gray
hairs and childish heart, and her little
old cottage is without a tenant.
No more letters commencing “ Dear
mother,” come for the dead, and the
trembling hands which used to linger
fondly over the words : “ My dear boy,
Dan,” are folded over a lifeless breast,
there to rest till the axgels unclasp
them. —Detroit Free Press.
Calumny.
In this world of ours, thousands
thoughtlessly lie sleeping iu careless
serenity, little concerned about the ca
lumniator's poison. Relying upon the
liberty of a Iree conscience, au*l ropos
ing in the fancied security of personal
integrity, they slnmber on, as if invul
nerable to calumny’s stroke.
“Be thou chaste as ice, pure as snow,
And yet thou shalt not escape calumny.’
So said the great paiuter of human
thoughts and feelings three eenturios
ago —so echoes many blighted hearts:
and scores of desolate hearths send the
echo back. Give the calumniator a
thread of news—no matter how light,
fragile, or unsubstantial—and, by skill
ful, pliant manipulation, the thread, by
cunning legerdemain, is soon dexter
ously transformed into a vast cable of
slander. In this age of reformation,
our vials of wrath and indignation are
too often poured out upon dead issues.
We load our guns and fire at tomb
stones. and real, living, vital matters
are held iu abeyance until a more con
venient season. The sacred pulpit is
too much devoted to discussions of ab
struse doctrine, while the evils of the
human heart are but too seldom touched.
The ministers, who should stand forth
and fulminate their condemnation of
these mward passions of envy, jealousy,
hate, calumny, &e., are often too much
engrossed by the thought of uttering
something strongly polemical or sweet
and sugary.
If there’s one thing above another
truly satanic, it is calumny. A fiend,
far worse than he who steals your purse,
is one who strives to rob you of repu
tation. The homicide who, in a fit of
auger, jealousy, or rage, hurls his vic
tim into a premature grave, is far more
excusable than the cool, systematic
persevering assailant of character and
fair fame. Amd who are the victims of
these 44 calumnious SBakes”? Not the
libertine, for no charge against him
would be accounted calumny ; not the
rogue, swindler, or any disreputable
CARTERS YILLE, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MARCH 25. 1575.
personage. Oh. no! calumny has a
higher mark. The pure shaft of inno
cence rearing its virtuous head heaven
ward is the thing upon which calumny
strives to throw the garbage of slander.
’Tis the young man of promise, or
talent, or popularity, who presents a
mark for these shafts. The young lady
of attraction—of beauty—stands forth
a fair target for calumny. Not the dis
solute, but the pure, are the ones at
whom the calumniator—ofttimes with
William Tell precision—lets fly the ar
row of slander ; and many a persecuted
wife, pure daughter, upright son, proud
parent, are, by slander’s agency, sent
through life, or rather hnrried through
this existence, “with hearts bowed
down by weight of woe.”
Were each individual of the forty odd
millions of our people the possessor of
Stemor’s voice ten times magnified, and
at some set hour, or minute, all would
exercise their vocal power in a con
demnatory shout of calumny, the effect
would be none too great to give expres
sion to what should be intense abhor
rence of this Dipping, frosty evil. This
vocal power we do not possess, nor, as a
nation, can we, as in one voice, cry
down this evil ; but as individuals we
can, and should, draw the bow of our
condemnation, and “ shoot” calumny
“ as it flies.”
English Taught in One Lesson.
At many of the New York restaurants
a very heavy 44 French style ” is put
on ; the waiters are mostly Frenchmen,
and the bill of fare is often printed in
French. A correspondent writes that,
venturing out early one morning in
New York, he dropped into the first
restaurant he came to, which happened
to be one of the kind spoken of above.
Carelessly giving an order, the waiter,
bringing bis shoulders up under his
ears, responded;
4 4 Je n' parle pas anglas, M’sieur /”
and the hungry man had to point out
his wants on the bill of fare, wiili
which, after considerable delay, he was
served.
Just here entered another customer,
a tall, powerful fellow, evidently fresh
from the western prairies, who, set
tling himself into a chair, ordered,
44 Beef-steak, fried potatoes, hot bread
’n cup o’ coffee.”
To him the grinning Frenchman re
peated the same formula.
“ Je n’ parle pas anglais, M'sieur .”
The western man looked at him for a
moment, and then, rising from his seat
like the opening of a big jack-knife
with a stiff spring, he slowly ejacu
lated, as he clenched a wicked-looking
ffst:
44 Beef-steak fried potatoes hot
bread—eup of coffee—d n quick.”
The effect on the waiter was magical.
There never was a man served more
promptly with just what lie ordered for
breakfast than the hungry westerner.
He evidently knew the way of putting
his English so that there was no mis
taking it.
Poking Fun at Oreatuess.
The New York Tribue finds food for
comment in the tendency of an irrev
erent age to make fun of everything
great and good in the paet and present.
The recent recurrence of Washington’s
birthday Las afforded an instance of
this. “If there is a great figure in
history,” it goes on to say, “calculated
by its dignity to strike the most invet
erate joker dumb, it is that of the
father of the country. In the first
place, he was himself sobriety incar
nate. Tn the course of a long and
active life, associating constantly with
his fellow-countrymen in the discharge
of public duty, Washington was always
serious, and carried himself with a
kind of aristocratic reserve. We can
remember only two jests attributed to
him, and but oue of them was a good
one. Almost while living he passed
into the demigod stage, and he has
stayed there ever since, until men,
grown weary of so much goodness and
greatness, have revolted, and have re
freshed themselves by considering him
as a human being. Long ago, Mr.
John Brougham, in his short-lived
comic newspaper, printed various jokes
based upon a letter written by Wash
ington ordering a pair of leather
breeches, which lie particularly desired
should be made sufficiently large.
Then came the little Latchet story,
which took with the public wonderfully,
and has been travestied until its capa
bilities are about exhausted, Of course
it did dusy the other day, but the most
ingenious 4 funny man ’ cannot make
much out of it now. It is a deal easier
to start entirely original jokes ; to say,
os one newspaper does, that 4 Washing
ton combed his own hair when he was
only five years old, parting it behind
with wonderful precision ; ’ or that 4 he
never got up in the morning at 6 o’clock,
and howled because his breakfast wasn’t
ready; or that when he whistled his
mouth had a saintly expression rarely
seen this side of Paradise ; ’ while one
editor actually speaks in a free and
easy way of 4 G. W.; ’ and another
thinks it a pity he had no middle
name,’ ”
The Island of Madagascar.
Tho queen of Madagascar is stated to
have lately issued a proclamation order
ing the enfranchisement of all persons
enslaved since June 7th, 1865, “the
year in which the convention with my
cousins was completed.” The procla
mation further states that if such slaves
desire to l emain in the country they
are at liberty to do so as free citizens ;
if they desire to return whence they
were brought, they can do so ; and any
one retaining them contrary to their
will, after this notice, will incur a pen
alty of ten years in irons.
Some readers may find it convenient
to be remiuded that Madagascar is a
great island, with an area estimated at
225,000 square miles—rpore than four
times as large as England—lying to the
southeast of the African continent.
Very litt-le is known of its early history.
It was not until 1810. when the influ
ence of one of its potentates grew pre
dominant, that .the ipland becamo com
mercially important to other countries.
In 1816 the English e tered into a
trea’y with Radami, king of the Hovas,
against the slave trade with Mozam
bique, atd Euglish missionaries and a
few English mechanics settled in the
island. Radsma was succeeded by
Ranavolo 1, a cruel and very anti-mis
sionary spirited woman, and her pro
ceedings Jed to active operations against
her both by French and English. Her
son succeeded her in 1862, but only to
be strangled in the lollowing year,
when ho was succeeded by his wife,
who, with the prime minister—her hus
band—aDd a cumber of leading men,
were bapt zed in 1869, and in the same
year the chief idol was burned.
44 You may talk about rolling pins,”
says a New Jersey woman, “but giv*
me a good hickory ax-helve for every
day business.”
UNDER TitK DAISIES.
Ii is strange what a great deal of trouble we take,
What sacrifice most of us willingly make,
How the lips will smile, though the heart may ache.
And wo bend to the ways of the world for the sake
Of its poor and scanty praises.
And time runs on with such pitiless flow,
That our lives are wasted before we know
What work to finish before we go
To our long rest under the daisies.
And too often we fall in a useless fight;
For wrong is so much in the place of right.
And the end is so far beyond our sight
’Tis as one starts on a chase by night,
An unknown shade pursuing.
Even so do we see, when our race is run,
That of all we have striven for little is won
And of all the work oht strength has done,
How little was worth the doing.
Ho mos* of us travel with very xoor speed.
Failing in thought where we conquer in deed,
Least brave in the hour of greatest need.
And making a riddle that few may read
Of our life’s intricate mams.
Such a labyrinth of right and wrong,
is it strange that a heart, once brave and strong,
Should falter at last, and most earnestly long
For a calm sleep under the daisies ?
But if one poor troubled heart pan say
“ His kindness softened my life’s rough way,”
And the tears fall over our lifeless clay,
SVs shall stand up in heaven In brighter array
Taan if all earth rang with onr praises.
F-if.fhe good we have clon9 shall never fade,
Though the work be wrought and the wages paid,
And the wearied frame of the laborer iaid
All peacefully under the daisies.
Restoring Burnt Money.
An Interesting Process—Expert Manipu
lators of Burnt Currency.
It. will be remembered that about
four or five weeks ago a northern ex
press car was burned near Washington.
The government alone had $5,750,000
in it, and the private property amounted
to nearly half as much, including jew
elry—enough to fill seven safes.
Up in one of the sunny, well-lighted
rooms of the treasury department four
ladies from the treasurer’s office are at
work on these charred treasures, and
their process is one of the most inter
esting features of the service. All the
safes were transferred from the cars to
the treasury, and a committee were
selected from those most expert at such
work. First the private safes were
opened, and in these were found about
SIOO,OOO worth of diamonds, a hundred
watches, old gold and silver coins, and
—alas ! for the course of true love—a
package of love letters and a tress of
pretty brown hair. Picking out the
valuables was comparatively easy work,
for though many of the stones had
fallen from their setting, it was not
hard to find them. The gold was
blackened.
Jewels and watches were returned to
the express company. The letters were
not read, though they presented a great
temptation to some members of the com
mittee. They and the curly lock were
sent together to the dead letter office,
where they will be burned. Perhaps
it was all for the best; they may have
been returned in tho heat of a lover’s
quarrel, which now will have time to
0001.
The money in the government safes
is so charred that at a breath it crum
bles ; and yet it is expected that four
fifths of it will be deciphered. Each
little shrivelled piece is detached with
a thin knife and laid on rough, blotting
paper. There the ladies examine it
with magnifying glasses, and after de
ciphering as much as possible they
paste it, face up, on a strip of thin
paper; and so, bit by bit, a whole note
is pierced out. It is such trying exer
cise for the eyes that those engaged in
it can work only three hours at a time
and on bright days. The trust reposed
in them is great, for the money is de
livered directly to them, and remit
tances made on tlieir report without
further questioning. After the terrible
fire of October, 1871, Chicago sent two
hundred and three cases of burnt money,
aggregating, at the owners’ valuation,
$164,997.98. It came in sheets, in bun
dles, in tiny packages, rumpled and
crushed as careless hands had pushed
them into side pockets or purses. Each
little parcel was swathed in cotton as
carefully as if it were the most precious
jewelry, and as the black, brittle pack
ages were unrolled, it seemed really
impossible that anything could be made
of such cinders, Yet out of that $164,-
997.98, $126,541.33 was redeemed and
returned to the owners or banks. Bos
ton profited by Chicago’s experience,
and packed her burnt money so care
fully that nearly all of it was redeemed.
Eighty-three cases, containing SBB,-
290.80 were returned to her, beside a
number of policies, notes, bills, and
other valuable papers. The most skill
ful person on this committee is a lady
who has had much experience in such
work. Once she deciphered $185,000
out of $200,000 that had been in the
hold of a burned ship for three years,
and Adams Express Company, nhich
was responsible for the amount, gave
her SSOO in acknowledgment of her ser
vices. Another time she and her asso
ciates worked faithfully and long over
some bonds a crazy cashier saw fit to
throw into the fire. The bank asked
for only SIOO,OOO, bat the ladies picked
out $145,000 ; whereupon the directors,
with reckless extravagance, presented
the committee with s2o—about four dol
lars apiece.— Washington Letter.
Tnc Bonapariists Gathering up Their
Sirength.
In the twenty-four hours following
the accession of the empire, all those,
it is said, who are now walking with an
uneasy air on the line of the Boulevards
would be at the post allotted them in
anticipation, and ready to enter on
their duties. In twenty-four hours all
those too ripe or unripe fruits which
the wind of the fourth of September
shook off from their imperial tree,
would disappear from the throng of
the Boulevards to find themselves in
the four corners of the country, there
to enforce the regulations of the new
government. Outside this not yet in
stalled staff, the empire already com
mands a certain number of partisans
now in office, who are quite ready to
facilitate the task of the morrow to the
new comers. In addition to these func
tionaries, the empire reckons deputies,
great dignitaries, writers and artiste.
For some day it has possessed a maishal
of France ready to raDge himself under
its flag—so, at least the Bonaparlists
allege—and reserving himself from this
moment for a more prominent role than
that of simple marshal of France. In
the last place, the Prince Imperial hav
ing been leproached with being too
young and the empire with having no
allies, there has been a talk for some
days with marked persistency, though
in a mysterious tone, of a project of
alliance between the Princa Imperial
and a Danish princess, sister of the
prince of Wales and the Cesarevn*
Dagmftr. It is confidentially affirmed
that the prince of Wales and the queen,
his mother, are very favorable to the
scheme, that the house of Ih nn_ark is
inclined to it, and that Russia alone
shows some hesitation, which, however,
it is added, will, there is every reason
to believe, shortly come to an end, so
that the marriage will soon be arranged.
It is objected, indeed, that rhe princess
in question is two bnd-a-half years older
than the prince, who is only nineteen.
Those who talk of the match and be
lieve, or wish to believe, or affect to
believe in it, reply by dwelling on the
eclat and advantages such an alliance
would offer the Prince Imperial. “It
would be like a providential indica
tion,” said an enthusiast yesterday;
44 the three Danish princesses would be
married to three heirs of the greatest
thrones in the world, consorts of the
king of England and the emperors of
the French and Russia. We should
bring alliances ready made, and Ger
many, perhaps, in view of this position
and an indemnity, would make the
princess a wedding present of the two
unfortunate provinces which would be
an everlasting cause of hatred and an
inevitable pretext for war.”
Thus the Bonapartists are ready, and
I may add there is reason to suppose
that on Sunday the electors of the
Seine-et-Oise will send to the assembly
the Due de Padoue, a connection of the
imperial family. In presence of this
immediate danger, the royalist party
feels its terrors increase. —London
Letter.
The Monastery Where Byron Dwelt.
Chi rles Warren Stoddard, writing
from Yenice to the San Franoisco
Chronicle, says : 44 San Lazzaro is as
complete and dainty as a sea-shell. It
is hedged, this darling island, with the
low walls of the Armenian monastery.
Above the swells that everywhere rise
out of the sea you catch glimpses of
waving trees and stone gables and tow
ers that have a bulbous, oriental look,
as indeed they should have, for this
island belongs to the Levant. Within
the walls there are gardens full of
grapes and figs ; the buildings are fres
coed with roses; there is a cloister
where every rare exotio that is capable
of surviving celibacy puts forth its vir
ginal blossoms, to the innocent joy of
the monks. There is a charming chapel
and a library, wherein it were impossi
ble to browse long without writing a
book full of sentiment. Byron haunted
this serene sanctuary. You are shown
his room, which is quite like any other
room you ever saw, and his table, the
very table whereon he used to write. I
could discover nothing peculiar about
it, save that it was plain and simple,
and of convenient size—like a table for
two in a cafe. An amiable Armenian
pointed with pride to a portrait of the
poet which he had graciously left as a
souvenir of his monastic life. It was
the same old pietnre—a handsome fel
low, with short curls and a haughty lip.
He looks dreamily off into the dim dis
tance, over a shirt-collar such as would
make the reputation of an end man in a
minstrel show. Byron stayed six weeks
at the monastery in order to hallow it
and acquire the Armenian toDgue,
which he is popularly supposed to have
done, though the monks told me that it
takes seven years to master it. What
an ugly-looking language it is! The
type seems to have been set in a liquid
state, so that it all runs together like, a
rustic fence; I saw also another por
trait of Byron. 4 Behold,’ said the
soft-eyed Armenian, pointing to the
picture, a very poor one, 4 Lord Beeron
contemplating the sea !’ There he sits
in collar and spurs, bareheaded, in the
corner of the garden, looking off to
wards the Lido, beyond which a thin
blue line of the sea is visible. Very
childish and very theatrical is all this.
But poets are not supposed to be sane,
though heaven knows they have need
of a double portion of mental ballast.
This did well enough for Byron, who
had not only to sustain his character as
poet, but as lord also. What had he to
do but pause under a scrub olive and
contemplate the sea, while some enthu
siast made a careful study of him—to
keep the flap of his voluminous collar
out of his eye or to fashion his inflated
verse.”
“Making Money.”
“ Fay,” writing to the Louisville
Cornier-Journal of how money is made
at the treasury department, says: “Take
a one dollar treasury note and look at
it. There is a fine steel engraving of
Washington—the man, not the city, in
the middle of the note. Iu the "left
hand oorner there is ‘The Landing of
Columbus.’ There is fine lace-work for
the denominations, and the note has a
lace-work border. Different artisans
make these designs. It is not all the
work of one engraver, for each one has
his specialty. Nj engraver can make
two plates exactly alike, no more than
the same man can paint two portraits so
alike but what there will be some little
shade or line in one that does not exist
in the other. So, after the engravers
make designs for the notes and the
secretary has accepted the design, the
plate being of hard metal is subjected
to a cylinder of solid steel, the metal of
which is softer than the plate. The
cylinder is laid on the plate and sub
jected to a pressure of from one to
twenty tons. As the plate is depressed,
so are the figures and characters raised
on the cylinder, which then undergoes
a hardening process, and the plates for
the notes are taken from the cylinder.
From these all our notes are printed.
By this process every note printed is
exactly alike and counterfeits can be
easily detected. These plates and cyl
inders can be used constantly for three
months, when the plates are retouched
by skillful workmen, who have an
apartment especially devoted to their
branch of work. In this room there
are many beautiful specimens of fine
steel engravings, for our country took
the prize at Vienna for such work.”
Source of Ihe Amazon.
The source of the Amazon has long
been a cause of dispute among travelers.
Mr. Marcoy agrees with Dr. Santiago
Tavara, of the Peruvian hydrographic
commission, that as the Ucayali has
greater length and volume it must be
regarded as the Rio Madre del Amazo
nas. Many attempts have been made
to navigate’ the upper tributaries on the
right bank of tne Amazon, bnt with
disappointing results. I. is well known
that the waters of some of the Amazo
nian tributaries are, like Rio Negro, of
a very dark color, resembling coffee,
this has not been very satisfactory ac
counted for ; and it would hardly seem
to be owing to the nature of the ground
over which the riveis flow, as this is cf
very diverse kind. When looked at
through a glass the water is colorless; it
is only in cases where the current is
slow or imperceptible that it has a
brown tint. Animals of ali kinds
abound in and around these curious
waters.
The girlß attending a seminary in
Illinois set two chickens fighting in
their room last Sunday. Bets on the
result ran high, and at the conclusion
of the contest the winning maiden was
44 better” by a gold watch, a pair of silk
stockings, a French corset, two rolls of
false hair, a patent bustle, nd a beauti
ful book-mars with 44 Christ our Guide”
worked on it in colored silk.
Social Habits of the Americans,
National habits, tastes and feelings
differ, and Americans, in several partic
ulars, are unlike their English relatives.
The Englishman is shy and exclusive.
He builds a high wail around his house
and garden, to keep out the eyes of the
public. The American builds a fine
house and lays out a handsome garden,
that others may see and eDjoy them as
well as himself. Shut in and hidden,
they would lose half their value. He
builds near the road, to be batter seen
by the passers-by ; and his only fence
is a low paling, as light and open as
possible. The Englishman likes to eat
in private—shut up in his room or a
close little box. The American prefers
a large, gay dining-room, and the pres
ence of many guests. What has he to
be ashamed of ? He wishes to see and
be seen. He suds himself in the public
gaze. He enjoys society, and enters
into the life around him. The more
the merrier. The larger the hotel, the
bigger the steamboat, the more people
about him, the greater his enjoyment.
On the railway an Englishman’s ideal :
is to be shut up alone, or, at the most,
with his little private party. He has
taken the coach with two seats facing
each other, so that half the passengers
mnst ride backwards as the model of
his railway carriage. The American
prefers his epacions and handsome car
with its fifty passengers. He likes to
walk through the train, and finds some
one he knows. He is not afraid of in
truding, is gregarious and social—ready
to discuss trade or politics with a
stranger, without buttoning up his
pockets. He is not afraid that some
person below his rank will claim his
acquaintance. He shakes hands with
the president, and discusses the oommg
election with the blacksmith or shoe
maker. He calculates to treat every
well-behaved man like a gentleman,
and every woman is to him a lady, to
whom he is courteous, respectful, and,
if need be, protective. Perhaps the
most repulsive thing an English trav
eler meets with in America is the want
of any distinction of classes. On the
railroad there is but one class and one
price. The best cars are, of course,
reserved for ladies and those who ac
company them ; bnt all paid the same
fare. The rudest American understands
that a lady, that any woman, has a pre
scriptive right to the front seat in the
show, to the head of the table at dinner,
to the best cabins and state-rooms on
the steamer, and the best cars in the
railway train. She may be rich or
poor, mistress or maid ; these are her
rights as a woman. There is not a
steamboat running on the wildest west
ern river where a male passenger ever
takes his seat at a table until every
woman is seated in her own place of
honor. A hundred hungry men, with
a hot dinner smoking before them, will
patiently wait until some young miss
has fixed her last curl, and taken her
seat near the head of the table. And a
lone woman, old or young, pretty or
ugly, may travel from one end of
America to the other, finding kindness,
civility and every assistance she needs
from every man she meets. There are
then, in price and privilege, no first
class, second-class, or third-class pas
sengers. But there are on steamboats
deck passengers, generally emigrants
going west, or up the Mississippi ; and
emigrant trains, at very low rates, are
run upon some of the principal lines of
railway. But an American never trav
els by these trains. He puts on his
Sunday clothes, pays full fare —as high
as the highest—and holds himself as
good as the best.— Dr. Nicols.
Masked Balls in France.
A writer in the Siecle gives some
reminiscences on the subject of masked
balls. He says : “ Respectable people
allege that under the Restoration op
era balls had still some of the charm
which recommended them to the last
century, when princes of royal blood
and even a queen of France did not
fear to visit them. One night Marie
Antoinette was recognized at an opera
ball. She was assaiied on all sides,
and behaved very courageously under
the trying circumstances. The roman
tic character of these balls began to
fade almost immediately afthe the July
revolution. The great Musard set up
rival establishments, where dancing
took the place of flirtation. It was
then that the cancan came to life in
France, and if the * Memoires du Vi
comte d’Ermis ’ are to be credited, this
dance was improvised as a political
manifestation against citizen royalty
by young peers of France who had re
mained faithful to legitimate monarchy,
and by officers of the royal guard whom
the revolution had just deprived of
their salary. It is curious to trace to
this origin a dance which is so popular
among the lower orders of society.
When Musard assured the direction of
the opera halls his first innovation was
a Gallop Infernal, in which pistol
shots were fired, and soon after he in
troduced extravagant quadrilles. It
was from this moment that the domino—
the long and severe black robe so dear
to every woman who has small feet and
pretty hands—began to give way be
fore the invasion of Chicards and Liri
flas. It was the time when men dressed
up as clocks, mushrooms, and other
fantastic objects. When Musard, or
rather Napoleon Musard, as he was
called by his delirious followers, had
appeared, the generation of Pierrots
and Debardeurs came into existence.
Under the empire the public could not
even be got to dance at the opera.
Dancers had to be hired by the man
ager, aud thus began the era of the
Clodoches.”
Dying Words of Pious Women.—
Under the head of “ Dying Words of
Pious Women,” a religious journal
gives the following : “ Oh, those rays
of glory ! ” from Mrs. Clarkson when
dying. “My God I come flying to
thee ? ” said “Lady Alice Lucy. Lady
Hastings said : “Oh, the greatness of
the glory that is revealed to me! ”
Beautiful the expression of the poeter ,
Mrs. HemaDs: “ I feel as if I were sitting
with Mary at the feet of my Redeemer,
hearing the music of his voice and
learning of him to be meek aud lowly.”
Hannah Moore’s last words were, “ Wel
come joy ! ” “ Oh, sweet, sweet dy
ing ! ” said Mrs. Talbot, of Reading.
“ If this be dying,” said Lady Glenor
chy, “it is the pleasantest thiDg im
aginable.” “ Victoiy, victory through
the blood of the Lamb ! ” said Grace
Bennett, one of the early Methodists.
“ I shall go to my father this night,”
said Lady Huntington. The dying in
-1 unci ion of the mother of Wesley was,
“Children, when 1 am gone, sixg a
song of praise to God ! ” To the ah'.ve
may be added the last words of Mrs.
Manchester, who died recently in Pitts
burgh, aged one hundred and five years.
Sbasaid, while dying: “I was afraid
G and had forgotten me, he has left me
in this world of sorrow so long.”
VOL. 16--NO. 13.
SAYINGS AND DOINGS.
A Texas pai>er which never received
but one communication, and that from
a tailor, warns people every week “to
write only on one side of the paper.”
Haste and rashness are storms and
tempests, breaking and wrecking bus
iness; but nimbleness is a full fair wind,
blowing it with speed to the haven.—
Fuller.
By the Apostle Paul, shadows to
night have struck more terror to the
soul of Richard than can the substance
of ten thousand soldiers.— Shakspeare.
In Vienna they have a single word
for a fact very common with us now—
bursting of a water-pipe. This is the
word Hochquellenwasserleftungsroh
renfatalitaten.
Paul Boynton, the diver, says that
after a man goes down 160 feet into the
water he has reached a spot where den
sity of fluid begins in such dead earnest
that diving has to stop.
Madame MacMahon refuses to dress
in the Paris fashions. “ The example
of strumpets,” says she, “is not more
worthy of imitation in matters of dress
than in morals.”
One eighteenth of the land in Kansas,
except a few Indian reservations, is de
voted to common schools. It cannot
be sold for less than three dollars per
acre. It may be paid in cash or in ten
annual payments at ten per cent, in
terest.
Some two years ago, Mrs. Morgan,
who lives on Wolf creek, in Giles
county, Va., gave birth to five male
children at one time. They are stall
living, are not deformed, are of good
constitution, and as sprightly as well
fed kittens.
Bruyere once said: “An inconsistent
woman is one who is no longer in love;
a false woman is one who is already in
love with another person; a fickle woman
is she who neither knows whom she
loves or whether she loves or not, and
the indifferent woman one who does not
love at all.”
What, with the improvements at the
mouth of the Mississippi and the pro
posed reservoira at its head waters,
there is a fair prospect that engineer
ing science will convert that hitherto
eccentric and ungovernable torrent
into a very tractable and civilized
stream, after all.
Paris is pluming itself on anew
fancy in ladies' dress, which is a species
of tackle by which, when a lady wishes
to dance, the train of her dress is drawn
up to possible dimensions. This tackle
is made so as to be ornamented with
flowers or ribbons, and to become a
great addition to the toilette generally.
William French, the first victim of
the revolutionary war, sleeps under the
following obituary notice :
“ Here William French his body lies.
For murder his blood for vengeance cries,
King George the third his Tory crew
That with a bawl his head shot threw,
For liberty and his country’s good
He lost his life his dearest blood.”
The Lord’s Prayer was recently
called to the attention of the San
Francisco school board, and after some
discussion the chair decided “ that the
Lord’s Prayer is partisan and sectarian,
and that the use of it in our schools is
contrary to the spirit of the school law. ”
Its chanting and reading were accord
ingly ruled ont of the schools.
An lowa woman went to church one
Sunday and “experienced religion.”
Arriving home, she called her children
around her and said : “lam pious now,
and lam going to give you two days
to get religion. If you don’t do it in
the time I’ll whale your hides off. I
have learned my duty. Do you hear
me?”
A Scotch beadle was the one who
popped the question in the grimmest
manner. He took his sweetheart into
the graveyard, and showing her a dark
corner, said : “Mary, my folks lie
there. Would you like to lie there,
Mary?” Mary was a sensible lasse,
and expressed her willingnesss to ob
tain the right to be buried near the
beadle’s relations by uniting herself to
him in wedlock.
When a citizen of Great Britain ar
rived in Wilkesbarre the other day and
found that his wife, who had come to
this country twelve years before, wra
married to another man, he drove his
successor from the house and gave his
first love and her daughter a terrific
beating. It is the constant recurrence
of such little incidents as these that is
gradually undermining the public faith
in that Enoch Aiden story.
“ If you want to please an Ohio man,
praise his cows; a Kentuckian, his
horses ; an Arkansas man, his shooting;
a Kansas man, his dogs; an lowa man,
his girls; a Wisconsin man, his feet; a
Virginian, his family name; a Tennes
seean, his mule.” And if you want to
please a Detroit man, praiee him —bnt,
hang it, we know of nothing a Detroit
man has that you can praise. — Detroit
Free Press.
An lowa paper has this description
of a recent invention : “ Among the
other pleasant recollections which mark
the holidays, a friend of a Burlington
and Miseouri baggageman presented
him with a patent trunk lifter. It is
made of steel and brass. Two clamps
clasp the trunk at either end, and a turn
of a knob in the hand of the baggage
man pulls both straps out by the roots,
at the same lime an iron ball weighing
nine poundshammers away at the bottom
of the trunk, and a neat three-jointed,
self-acting rake, with twelve teeth,
reaches in as quick as a hole is made,
and sweeps from end to end of the
trunk, finally emergiug through the
lid, where it clinches, and by a sudden
jerk, turns the trunk inside out. No
baggageman should be without it,”
k. ________________
Earache in Children. —When a
child’s ear becomes painful, as it so
often does, everything should be done
to soothe it, aid all strong irritating
applications should be avoided. Pieces
of hot onion or fig should not be put in;
bnt warm flannels should be applied,
with poppy-fomentation, if the pain
does not soon subside. How much
children suffer from their ears—un
pitied because unknown —it would
probably wring the hearts of those who
love them, suddenly to discover. It is
often very hard, even for medical meD,
to ascertain that the cause of a young
child’s distress is seated in the ear, and
frequently a sudden discharge from it,
with a cessation of pain, first reveals
the secret of a mysterious attack which
has leally been an inflammation ef the
drum. The watchfulness of a parent,
however, would probably suffice to de
tect the cause of suffering, ii directed
to this point, as well as to others. If
children cry habitually when their ears
are washed,that should not be neglected;
there is, most likely, some cause for
pain. Many membranes are destroyed
from discharges that take place during
“ teething.”