The standard and express. (Cartersville, Ga.) 1871-1875, July 22, 1875, Image 1

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THE STANDARD AND EXPRESS. I.nARSdIILK _ W. A. MAKSIHALK,/ Editors and Proprietors. UK.ASS ASD KO sKSi I looted where the roses were blooming, They stood among grasses and weed'; I said, “ Where such beauties are growing, Why suffer these paltry weeds ? ” Weeping, the poor things faltered : “ VFe have neither beauty nor bloom, We are grass in the roses’ garden. But the Muster give 6 us room, “ Slaves of a generons Master, Born from a world above, We came to this place in His wisdom, We stay to this hour from His love. We have fed His humblest creatures, We have served Him truly and long ; He gave no graca to our features, We have neither color nor song. “Yet He who has made the flowers Placed us on the >eJf-samß sod ; Be knows our reasons for being,— We are grass m the garden of God.” THE DEAD LETTER. BY HARRY MAPLE. Ten years ! Yes, just ten years since that night. As memory retraces the journey of those years the time seems very long, and yet the events of that night could not be more vivid had they occurred on yesterday. Then my hair was brown, my life was full of hope, my soul fnil of trust. There are threads of silver among the brown to-night, and the intervening years between that time and this have brought a succession of disenchantmcnts and sad experiences. How one changes in a decade. Among my lady acquaintances and friends none were to me so fascinating aud perfect in all that goes to make up the sum of female loveliness as pretty Jennie Fisk, and I shall not conceal the fact thr t the mention of that name bears to me a cruel memory. One evening upon arriving at my lodging I found an invitation from Jennie to attend a party her father intended to give to celebrate her eight eenth birthday. The thought of Jen nie’s “coming out” caused me a mo mentary pang, for I was confident that her beauty and expectations would soon surround her with a host of admirers. The possibility that someone else might lay siege to her heart and carry off the prize made me very unhappy, and I determined to see her as soon as possi ble ami ask her to bo my wife. Putting on my best suit, and arrang ing my toilet with as much care and precision as a society belle would have done, I set out for the Fisk mansion. It is needless to say that my anxiety about the result of my visit made me some what nervous. I ascended the steps, paused, a moment to renew my courage, and then rang the belj. A servant answered the summons, and showed me into the parlor. “ I suppose you wish to see Miss Jennie,” the young woman remarked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “ Yes ; is she t home?” “ She is ; I wiil announce you, aud I presume she will soon be down.” That, I thought, was suspicious. At least the manner as well as the words of the girl indicated that my footing with Jennie was favorable. Going to the long mirror at the end of the room to satisfy myself again that I was present able, I heard the patter of footfalls on the stairs and harried back to my seat. Jennie ctme in. I thought I had never seen such a vision of loveliness. She was dressed in snowy mulin, that fell in fleecy folds about her graoeiul form; a pink rose adorned her hair, which fell, in golden waves, to her waist. Another rose of the same color r posed at her throat, vieing with her cheeks in loveliness of tints. She welcomed me with a cordial yet modest greeting, and I sat down by her side. The restraint that I feared might make a coward of me, was soon gone, aud I told her the “old story,” which yet is ever new, of my deep love for her. Taking her willing hand in mine I asked Jennie to be my wife. Her answer was not delayed. Her eyes had already indicated her reply, and her tongue confirmed the language of her heart speaking through them. Speaking figuratively, I was in the “seventh heaven” of delight. Jennie had promised to be mine; what more on earth was there to covet ? Strange infatuation; wondrous passion. It comes alike to all the sons and daugh ters of men—the cultured and the savage, the peasant and the king. Well, the night of the ball arrived. It was clear and beautiful. The silvery ligfit of the moon bathed tho old Fisk mansion in a halo of soft radiance, and tho stars, gleamed and glistened like gems- in Night’s coronet, a bright augury of Teunie’s happiness (such was my interpretation of the scene) through life. I was among the first arrivals. Jen nie met me with a smile of love and trust ; she laid her little hand again in mine, aud though no words were spoken, each well knew the other’s thoughts. She was dressed in exquisite taste. Every circumstance connected with her on that night will never be effaced from my recolleotion. She had never looked anything but charming to me, but on this occasion she outshone, herself Her drees was ot the whitest muslin and lace, puffed over blue silk. She wore a necklace of pearls, aud bracelets to correspond encircled her shapely arms. Her whole toilet was faultless, and during the evening she was the cynosure of many eyes, the admiration of the young men, and the envy of a score or more of her own sex. She welcomed her guests with per fect ease and graee. The rooms were soon filled with company, and then she chatted merrily with one aud another for a while, and gradually found a place near me. Presently the music sounded its pre paratory note. Jennie took my arm, and we took our place at the head of the room. A young physician, Richard Price by name, and his partner, were opposite in the quadrille. He paid little attention to her, aud seemed rather abstracted and ill at ease. It is was a mystery to me then, this manner of his ; but sub sequently it was explained. Several times during the evening, when Jennie and I were together. Price hung upon our steps, much to Jennie’s anuoyance. After a while, after she had filled sev eral engagements with others, I claimed her again for my partner, and at the close of the waltz we sought the refresh ing air of the summer-house, in the spacious gardens attached to the man sion. Here we conversed of the future, of our plans and prospects, and oh, how bright were the promises that the future held for us then. How long we talked I do not know. But fearing our prolonged absence would occasion remark, we returned to the house. At length the guests departed, and then I bade my betrothed good night. Her manner towards me was all that a lover could expect, and yet at parting some unexplained and undefinablo feel log oppressed me. It was one of those strange forebodings fox which no one n *n satisfactorily account. When I should have been tho happiest of mor tals I was depressed with a presentiment of coming evil. I tried to shake it off, but in vain. It bound me like some horrid dream, and the feeling did not leave me for several hours. The next morning I slept late, and having partaken of a light lunch I went to the postoffice, impelled by I know not what motive, as my letters were usually delivered at my place of business. At all events, to the postoffice I bent my steps, and there found a note from Jennie. She had been suddenly sum moned by te’egraph to a distant ci>y by reason of the severe illness of a near rel ative—so ran the note—but would soon return. But the strangest part of it was that she hoped I would not write to her, statiDg that she would give a satisfactory explanation upon her return. The days wore heavily away, and no word more came from her. I was de pressed and oppressed with a feeling of anxiety and alarm. A week elapsed be fore she returned. The first intimation I had of her arrival was the following note: Fiiiene Haukt : It pains mo to write this note, but it is very necessary, and I cannot shrink from it. When I told you that I loved you I did not know my own heart; and the fu ture happiness of both of us compels me to say that I can never become your wife. Do not make any effort to see me; an interview would be of no avail, and could only prove painful to both you and me. Jennie. Need I say that this heartless note completely stunned me for a time. My brain was in a whirl, and I was so stupefied that I hardly knew whether I was dead or alive. This condition passed after a time, and I looked at the matter as calmly and coolly as I could. I determined to leave the scene of this bitter disappoint ment and seek “ surcease of sorrow ” in the excitement and change of travel. Arranging my affairs did not take me long, and drawing my funds from the bank, where they were deposited, I bade adieu to my frier ds and started for New York. My sudden resolution was a surprise to all who were intimate with me, but my explanation was that I had long meditated a trip to the old world, and a more opportune period than the present to gratifiv this desire would probably never occur. I had been entirely reticent about my relations with Jennie, and although some of my boon companions rallied me about leaving sueh an attraction when, to all appear ances, I was the favorite suitor, I passed the matter off as though it was a cap ital joke while suffering unspeakable torture at my heart. In a few days a gallant steamer bore me across the ocean. It is unnecessary to name the route pursued, or speak of my rambles in England and on the continent. A year passed ; then came a longing for my native land, and homeward I turned my footsteps. Upon arriving at New York I went straight to Washing ton, where I had friends, through whose influence I obtained a position in the postal department of the govern ment. My duties were in the bureau devoted to “dead letters.” Here an other year was spent. Time passes very swiftly when one is busy, even if the heart is heavy. My duty was chiefly opening dead letters, and many a curions and quaint epistle passed through my hands. One day while the room in which several clerks beside myself were en gaged was undergoing repairs, several old letters dropped from a desk being removed from the wall. The carpen ter picked them up and handed them to one of the employes in the office. “Why,” said he, “Harry here is a letter directed to you.” As I received it from his hand I re cognized the hand-writing at a glance. It was from Jennie, and had been writ ten nearly a year previously. By some means it had not reached me while I was waiting for the place I subsequently obtained, and had preceded me a few days in the “Dead Letter office.” There it had lain almost a whole year through an accident, but for which I should never have received it, and probably never know the revelation it brought. With a nervous tremor I opened it and devoured its contents, which were these: Deau llaury : To-tlav I was surprised and pleased to ascertain that you had returned from your wanderings and are in Washington. I write at once because we have both been grievouslv pained I know by a cruel forgery. When I heard that you had left N I could not believe it, but soon was compelled to do so. Believing that I knew your heart, it was impossible to understand the motive or reason for your sudden aud strange departure. Fate solved the mystery. Yon remember the party cn my eighteenth birthday, and vou will rec ollect that Richard Price dogged our foot steps wherever .we went. He overheard our conversation in the garden, and thus learned of our engagement. A year previously he had proposed to me and was rejected, and in revenge he determined to blast my happiness at all hazards. He was an expert at imitating the hand-writing of others, aud having at tended the same school that I did for several years, be was easily enabled to produce a fac simile of my chirograpliy. A few weeks after your departure be was thrown from a buggy and fatally injured. Before lie died he sent for me. and I received from his tongue the secret be was the author of a Jotter to which my name was signed, and had caused your sudden and strange flight. In whatever light 3 T ou have come to look' upon me, it is but right for you to know tfie truth. For myself my heart has never changed. Jennie. The first thing I did if ter reading this letter was to obtain leave of absence for a few weeks ; the next was to hasten to my loggings, pack my trunk and take the first train for N . The train was the “ Fast Express,” but to me it seemed a “slow coach.” Cl :se connections were made, and at six o’clock that evening I stepped upon the platform at N . It had been two years since my feet had touched it. A crowd of recollections rushed through my mind, but nothing stayed me. At once I set out for Fisk mansion. It was Bumme r , and as 1 followed the walk from the gale to the door every object seemed as familiar as if 1 had seen them only the day before. My desire was to find Jennie alone, and "my wish was gratified. The old hall door was open, and I stepped in unannounced. I turned into the parlor softly and saw her sitting at a west win dow gazi:-.g at the glowing sunset sky, but oh how changed. There were Jen nie’s eyes and hair, but the roundel form aud glowing cheeks were wanting ; in their place were wan features and an emaciated form —a wreck of her former self. Thehandof the destroyer was upon her, and evident that her sufferings were fearful. My heart sank within me, and again my dream of happiness van ished. She uttered a cry of delight as I hastened to her side, and, half-rising, extended both hands toward me. I caught her in my arms and pressed her to my h^art; then she sank exhausted ioto her chair. In a few moments she revived, and a look of angelic sweetness overspread her features as I told her the history of the “Dead Letter,” for then she saw that it had remained unan- swered from accident and not from design. We went over the bitter past, only to prove how cruelly we had been de frauded of happiness by untoward ac cidents following the malice which had first directed our paths apart. Supper was announced, and I attended Jennie to the dining-room. The family were not aware who their visitor was, for Jennie had purposely kept them in ignorance thereof, to curprise them as I had surprised her. They greeted me cordially, and were soon made ac quainted with the facts. Although a shade of sadness pervaded the house hold and tinged the conversation, still the evening passed very pleasantly. Several weeks I remained at N , and passed most of the time with Jen nie. She seemed to rally, and ona and all began to entertain hopes of her re covery. How I longed and prayed that her life might be spared. She was cheerful and hopeful, and as my leave of absence approached its limit I made up my mind to resign, eo that I might be constantly near her. With this view I bade her good by for a short time, my intended absence being only for the period necessary to close my affairs at the capital. Scaroely had I arrived in Washington when a telegram reached me that Jen nie’s condition was exceedingly critical. It was the recoil from the temporary improvement consequent upon the ex citement, which we had mietaken for re turning health. I hurried through my business and returned to N at once. Reaching the house, I went at once to the parlor door, opened it, and looked in. A cold chill crept through my body as I discovered the unwelcome sight. Not a sound broke upon the stillness except the throbbing of my own heart. It was the stillness of death. I sank upon my knees by her lifeless clay ; the fountains of my soul were broken up, and my aching heart found vent in tears. We laid her to rest under the willows and maples. A shadow rests upon a stricken home—as dear to me as to her kindred—but the oloud that cast it wears a silver lining, for the white soul which left the earthly casket basks in the sunshine of eternal bliss. In that bright realm she will yet be mine. How Granny Roberts Took Her Coffee. She was very particular about it, that was sure. She generally timed her calls on my grandmother when that lady was awav from home. Not that she would have failed of her peculiar and cherished entertainment had my generous and kindly grandmother been at home. But she doubtless felt more at liberty when the girls were the only dispensers of hospitality. “ New, honey,” she would say, when she had laid her green sun-bonnet on the floor beside her chair and had filled her corn-cob pipe from my grandmoth er’s tobacco box, lighting it by means of a coal held in her horny and callus fingers : “ Now, honey, can’t you give me a cup of your mother’s good strong yaller coffee ? I hain’t had none like that sence I was heah last. Yer mother alius has sich nice yaller coffee.” This of course meant a raid on the thick cream set for making butter. Granny Roberts scorned anvthing th.n ner than the creme de la creme. My mother, besides being generous and hospitable by nature, was also young and inexperienced. Consequent ly she suffered a good deal at the hands of this old neighbor and frequent visitor. Her older and more worldly wise sister and the very touchy black cook were not thus imposed upon. Granny Roberts “sensed” this altitude of mind toward herself on the part of these two members of the family, and she took good care not to provoke hos tilities by any act of her own. But my mother, sensitive and fine fibered, could not bring herself to snub this old wo man, whose feelings she ignorantly im agined to be as sensitive as her own. Cunning old granny ! She imposed on this high-minded young soul as syste maiically as any professional humbug the world has ever known. She never came at meal-time. The most ample of coffee-urns would not have stood the demand’s of Granny’s capacious appetite. She usually came in the middle of the afternoon, when the kitchen fire was out, save the few embers in the middle of the huge fire place, covered up in order to keep fire till time for supper. So my mother would kindle a fire—as much a martyr to blazing logs as anyone would suf fered at Smitbsfield (imagine this on a sultry July afternoon), and, grinding a large millful of coffee, would proceed to make an amount of the liquid ordinarily sufficient for a large family. “ Now, honey,” Granny would say, following her young hostess to the kitchen, “make it goal and strong. Yon know I’m kind o’ ailin’. I’m trem bly like, an’ I’ve got a ’flictioni in my head, and a sight o’ misery in my side, and I know a cup o’ your mother’s good, strong, yaller coffee would kinder o’ set me up. I only want a cup, child. Never take more’n a cup. That’s my rule.” This single cup was filled and pre pared according to minute instructions from Grauny. When more than half drained she would pass the cup, saying: “Too sweet, honey, lols too sweet. Jest fill it up, won’t ve?” This time perhaps two-thirds was swallowed aud the cup passed with the request for a little more cream. Re plenished in this direction, it seemed to be entirely satisfactory except the last tablespoonful. “ Jest a leetle mite o’ sugar, honey. You put in mos’ too much cream that time.” Sugared, it seemed the nectar of the gods for a little while, and my mother would take up her nettiug in the vaiu hope that granny was at last satisfied. Not by any means. “ Now, honey, this is a heap too cold. I wish you’d jest fill it up with hot cof fee.” And so proceeded the futile at tempt to satisfy the very critical taste of this old woman until the last drop of the ftrong brown liquid was exhausted, aud then Granny Roberts praised her cup of coffee highly. This cup of cof fee required a pint of thick cream aud caused a perceptible lowering of the air pie sugar-bowl, but it was only one cup. “ I never drink but one cup, honey, but I like that good and strong and yaller. On being asked by one of his fair daughters why the bulldog’s nose is placed so far behind his mouth the very reverend gentleman discovers another instance of the merciful consideration ever shown by—shall we say “Nature?” —to the humblest of her creatures, and replies : “My love, it is to enable him to breathejmore comfortably while he is hanging oh to the nose of the bull I” Punch. CARTERSVILLE, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JULY 22, 1875. HOW THE IRISH HEART HEATS. An (extraordinary Incident ot tlie Amer ican Team'ii Visit to Dublin—Enthusi astic Reception of tlie “Star Spangled Banner. Dublin correspondence (Jane 23) of the New York Times. After fifteen minutes of the most tre mendous enthusiasm ever known in a theatre, Miss Bessie Sudlow, well known in Niblo’s end other New York theatres, came forward to sing the “Star Span gled Banner.” She seems to have made hosts of friends at this side of the ocean. She looked uncommonly well and much more womanly than when I last saw her at home. She sung the song splendidly, though manifestly af fected by the great crowd aud the En thusiasm of the time. When sho had finished the applause was deafening. Mrs. Dakin sent her a beautiful bou quet, and the whole parly handed down a basket of flowers ornamented—and wax flowers can be ornamented—with the stars and stripes. Miss Sudlow kissed the flag and sang the song agaia. I can hardly tell you, in the hope of credence, the scene that ensued. Our people were very well pleased—the Trish were boundless in their enthusi asm. Matters were not made easier by the conductor of the band. Hu played, and the forces at his disposal being superb in number and skill, he played, magnificently, “ The Star Spangled Banner,” “Hail Columbia,” “Tramp, Tramp,” “Yankee Doodle,” “Red, White and Blue,” and one of the negro melodies. The first two went off well, I learned from Mr. Michael Gunn, who is a public man here, that “Tramp, Tramp ” had a political insignificance in Ireland. This was soon made manifest by the cheering with which it was re ceived, and the effect was heightened when the audience, numbering nearly 5,000, sang the last verse in good time and with amazing power. Was there ever such a people for merriment? Now they were on the tiptoe of good humor. In five minutes they were hooting, yel ling, hissing, whistling and groaning “Red, White and Blue,” because the flag of England was thus composed. One-half the crowd was of one opinion and the other of a very different. They maintained the noisy contest all the while, and there was no peace until the band had concluded. Then the weight of the crowd began to tell upon two stairways leading from the pit floor to the stage. Half a dozen times the occu pants came down pell mell on the people below them, and then they fought aud laughed and cursed and shouted in a manner more surprising than pleasant. Avery unfortunate young gentlemen with a very excellent tenor voice came forward after one of these encounters and essayed to sing the “ Death of Nel son.” Had he proposed to sing “The Marseillaise ” in a Berlin singing house he could not have raise a more thunder ous storm. Tho audience lashed them selves into a terrific rage. I need hardly tell you the song celebrates the Euglish victory over the French at Trafalgar. The very instant the vocalist sang the second line, showing the French to be foemen, the uproar began. They hissed the singer off the stage—hissed him in a manner which you should hear before you could believe. He ran off soon enough. They were not satisfied. They demanded a song of their own choosing; but be was inexorable, and so the programme, so far as vocalism was concerned, came to an end. The band played various selections from operas; but the audienoe hooted to the last, and cried out for the “programme” in lusty wrath. Finally they got tired, or recovei ed their good humor ; and fearing lest the Americans should mis take their local and native pleasantries for anything but what they were, they gave a tremendous cheer for the team, comically adding, “We wish you every success, except at the match.” I con sider last night’s experience suggestive. The Irish people ought to be let alone. They are naturally good-natured, exu berant, humorous and easily led. When they don’t get what they want, they sel dom look far for it, and they readily content themselves, though they are very angry if you say so. But to tease with philosophy a people who cannot listen to a song which celebrates the melancholy death of a man to whose memory and exploits there is the grand eet memorial in Dublin, is foolish in the extreme. Our Riflemen Abroad. As the details of the great rifle match ft Dollvmount, Ireland, reach us, they confirm the skill of our marksmen and the completeness of their victory. The results show a great improvement over the shooting at Creedmoor last year. At both places the ranges were 800, 900, and 1,000 yards; the targets six feet by twelve in size, with a center six feet by six, and a “bull’s eye” three feet by three. Tho sporting journals tell us that a shot in the bull’s eye counts four, in the center three, in the outer part of the target two. The teams are each six men, each man having fifteen shots at man range, and forty-five in all. By a comparison of the shooting at Creedmoor and that at Dollymouut it will be seen that there was great im provement in favor of the latter. The figures are thus given at Creedmoor : The total of the Americans was 934, that of the Irish, 931 —thus made up : At 800 yards, Americans, 325; Irish, 317 ; 900 yards, Americaos, 310; Irish, 315; 1,000 yards, Americans, 298 ; Irish, 303. At Dollymount the total was as fol lows : Americans, 967, Irish, 929 thus made up : At 800 yards, the Amer icans made 337; the Irish, 338; 900 yards, Americans, 327; Irish, 292 ; 1, 000 yards, Americans, 303; Irish, 299. Therefore the Amerioms beat their former scores heavily in each case—l 2, 17 and 5 points, respectively. The Irish gained heavily at 800 yards, 21 points— lost 23 points at 900 yards, and at 1,000 yards lost 4. The Americans beat the Irish by 38 points, and their Creedmoor score by 33 points ; the Irish fell behind their Creedmoor perform ance 2 points. Toward the conclusion of the shoot ing at Dollymount the Irish blood got up too high and great excitement pre vailed. The police were unable to pre serve order. The crowd swayed to and fro and gave ominous signs of disorder, and the Americans refused to proceed until quiet could be restored. The Irish did not seem to entertain any particular inhospitable hostility to the Americans. They were more enraged, perhaps, against their own team. But they seemed to want “ a bit of a row ”on general princi ples, and it was feared they would in dulge their proverbial propensity of hitting at every head they saw. Every thing passed off peaceably and pleasant ly, however, and they became more en thusiastic than ever over the Americans, But there are new triumphs for our couutrymen to win. Their shooting, though excellent, was not superior to the beet shooting at Wimbledon, the great English rifle ground. The match will come off at that range in a few days, and the American team will have to guard with great care the laurels they have won. The English are cooler and more delibei ate than the Irish, and on the whole bet f er shots. They wiil be nerved to their best shooting at the approaching match, and we may expect the public interest of both countries to be greatly stimulated by the result in Ireland.— Courier Journal. Death of George Washington’s Grand- Niece. We are called upon to cbroniclo the death of that distinguished lady, Mrs. Frances Parke Butler, wife of our es teemed friend, Col. E G. W. Butler, of Dunboyne, parish of Iberville, but for the past four years a resident of Pass Christian, Miss. The deceased, one of the most gifted and accomplished women of her time, was born at Mount Vernon, Nov. 27, 1797, and was the daughter of Lawrence Lewis and Eleanor Parke Custis, of Woodlawn, Fairfax county, Va. Law rence Lewis was tho son of Fielding Lewis and Elizabeth Washington, only sister of Gen. Washington, and was one of the executors of his uncle’s estate. Eleanor Parke Custis was the youngest daughter of John Parke Custis, only son of Mrs. Washington by her first husband, Daniel Parke Custis, and her mother was Eleanor Calvert, of Mary land, grandaughter of Lord Baltimore; and she, in common with her brother, George Washington Parke Custis, of Arlington, father of the late Mrs. Robert E Lee, was adopted by Gen. and Mrs. Washington, at the death of their father, at the close of the revolu tion. Her eldest son, Edward George Washington Butler, resigned his posi tion as secretary of legation at Berlin, and fell at Belmont as major of the 11th Louisiana regiment, requesting Gen. Polk to say that he died like a Butler, in the discharge of his duty. Her second son, Maj. Lawrence Lewis Butler, served, during the late civil war, on the staff of Lieut. Gen. Polk, and now resides in St. Louis, Mo., as a member of the house of Edward J. Gay & Cos. The eldest daughter, Isabel, married Col. George Williamson, of Louisiana, present United States minister in Cen tral America, and died soon after the close of the late war ; and her youngest daughter, Caroline Swan wick married the late William B. Turnbull, of Louis iana, and has resided with her parents since the death of her husband. Her youngest sister, Angela, married the Hon. Charles Conrad, of Louisiana, and at her death left two sons, Charles A. Conrad, of New Orleans, and Law rence Lewis Conrad, of Baltimore. The deceased was the nearest living relative of “the father of his country,” and with Mrs. Commodore Kennon and George Washington Peter, of Maryland, was the nearest living relative of Mrs. Washington. —New Orleans Picayune. A $2,000,000 Head of nair. The London Echo prints the follow ing : “We have it upon the authority of a medical journal that there are “from 160,000 to 200,000 hairs in a lady’s head,” and upon other, if not higher authority, we know that “beauty leads us by a single hair.” What, then, in this eminently commercial and money-making age is the obvious con clusion ? Is it not evident that every one should consider what is the worth of a single hair “ upon a lady’s head,” what is the worth of it when removed from a lady’s head, and what fortune may she, under penalty of baldness, be supposed to carry ? And we are not without data, for the same journal tells us that Mme. Nilsson lately sold a hair from her head for £fl, “and in a few moments the Swedish songstress was surrounded by admirers anxious to buy a hair at the same rate.” Of course, this pelican-like conduct on the part of Mme. Nilsson was, we need not say, done with a good object—it was to feed the sick and wounded, and of course it occurred at a fancy fair, aud in New York. “ Mme. Nilsson was asked by an American banker to let him have a hair at her own price ;” and she valued the treasure at $lO, which at once set our cousins to “ calculate ” that “ the Swedish songstress ” carried $2,000,000 on her fair head. Here, then, is anew line of business for yonDg ladies at fancy fairs. But all may not have Mme. Nilsson’s success. We once saw an English lady displaying to an Arab fam ily a hair of Chas. James Fox, at which they distinctly turned up their noses. But, then, he was a man. Wtat is in the Bcd-Iloom. If two persons are to occupy a bed room during the night, let them step on a weighing scale as they retire, and then again in the morning, and they will find that their actual weight is at least a pound less in the morning. Frequently there will be a loss of two or more pounds, and the average loss through out the year will be a pound of matter, which has gone off from tbeir bodies, partly from the lungs, and partly through the skin. The escaped matter is carbonic acid and decayed animal matter or poisonous exhalation. This is diffused through the air in part, and absorbed by the bed-clothes. If a single ounce of wool-cotton be burned in a room, it will so completely saturate the air with smoko that one can hardly breathe, thongh there can only be one ounce of foreign matter in the air. If an ounce of cotton be burned every half hour during the night, the air will be kept continually saturated with smoke, unless there be an open window or door for it to escape. Now, the sixteen ounces of smoke, thus formed is far less poisonous than the sixteen of exhalations from the lungs and bodies of two persons who have losl a pound of weight during the eight hours of sleeping ; for, while the dry smoke is mainiy taken into the lungs, the damp odors from the body are absorbod both into the lungs and iuto the pores of the whole bojy. Need more be said to show the impor tance of having bed-rooms well venti lated, and of thoroughly airing the sheets, coverlids and mattresses in th morning, before packing them up in the form of a neatly made bed. Cremation is regularly practiced by the Ute and Digger Indians of the Sierra region, pine wood being always used fir the pyre. The widow dosen’t hire a hack or bay any fashionable mourning goods, but she smears her face and hair with the exuding resin, and resolutely declines to permit the wooing of an enamored brave as long as the pine juice remains. Per haps, however, scrapes it sometimes with a chip, or eke a stone, so as to hasten its departure—being merely hu man. yon know. non khows ill the rkst. “ Now I lay,” repnat ic darling “ Lay me,” lisped the tiny lips Of my daughter, kneeling, bending, O’er her folded finger tips. “Do-n to sleep “To s’eep, she murmured, And the curly head bent low ; “ I pray the Lord I gently added, You can say It all, I know. “ Pray the Lord”—the sound came faint, Fainter still—' 1 My soul to keep.” TQen the tired head fairly nodded, And the child was fast asleep. But the dewy eyes half opened. When I clasped her to my breast, And the dear voice softly whispered, “ Mamma. God knows all the rest.” Early Birds. My idea of perfect happiness is the consciousness of having done our whole duty, and the certainty of getting our reward for it. Life is short, but the majority out live themselves anyhow. It is a great deal easier to be saucy thau to be sarcastic ; but there is many critics who haven’t discovered the dif ference yet, and probably never will. The man whom success renders more humble, and at the same time more cau tious, is one whom a defeat couldn’t weaken. If a man is going to leave the world and retire into solitude he must take a large stock of virtues with him, for these are the only things he can enjoy there. There has seldom been a great occa sion yet but what there has been found someone equal to it, and that one has often sprung from an unexpected source. The mau who fully understands a subject is always satisfied to use the simplest terms to explain it. If you expect to keep ynre friend yu have got to see all his virtues with both eyes and his failings with one. The man who tells you that there ain’t an honest person living has studied his own character too well. Of all created things animate or in animate, we find no fools except among mankind. He who has the most authority and uses it the least is truly a noble char acter. The world has always longed for sensations ; if a man could invent anew Punch and J ndy, he would be admired more than the one who could make one barrel of flour go as far as two. You can’t separate wit from truth ; truth may not be wit, but wit is always truth. Our pashions were not given to us to be destroyed, but to be controlled. The man who told us “ that virtue is its own reward,” might have added that vice was too. The theory of medicine has eured more patients than the practice of it ever has. No really wise man ever asks ques tions that he thinks can’t be answered. Silence has been prized more perh ips than it really deserves, but in the case of folly it can’t be commended too much. You can’t make an enemy of the meanest wretch with impunity, for the meanest wretch can set fire to yonr pig pen just as easy as anybody.— Josh Billings in N. Y. Weekly. Waehtel Singing While His Child is Dying. The opera-house is thronged with an expectant audience, for Theodore Wach tel is to appear in “ Der Postilon von Lonjumeau,” and all Leipz’g must hear him. Perhaps more than one person in that assembly is thinking what a fine thing it is to be a favorite actor, and wishing that he could change places with Waehtel. The audience even fancy that he must be as impatient as they for the curtain to rise and the opera to begin. While they are waiting let ns take a peep back of the scenes. The postboy stands threshold, and the attendants one to the other with awe-struck faces. Through the half-open door of a dressing-room we see the celebrated Waehtel in an agony of grief, and can easily guess that the paper he has dropped on the floor is a telegram with bad news. In truth it is, for it brings word that his youngest son is dying and wants to see him. He can not go ; the audience must not be dis appointed ; he must swallow the lump that rises in his throat till it almost chokes him, and assume all the gayety of Chapelon, the postilion of Lonju meau. At the end of the second act, while the audienoe is making the house ring with applause, Waehtel is reading another telegram. This one tells him that his son is dead. At the end of the third act he thrills the audience as he sings “ Gute Nacht, mein Herzliches Kind.” They think tne postilion is singing that eong, but we know that Theodore Wachtei is bidding his child a last good night.— Leipzig Letter. A Follower of Etiquette. An amusing chapter of Laferriere’s forthcoming memoirs, is devoted to a Russian celebrity at tie court of the late Emperor Nicholas, the Count Paul Demidoff: A young attache to one of the embassies, now a distinguished di plomatist, was invited to dine with Count Demidoff. On the return of the company to the salon groups were formed here and there, and when the coffee was handed round the young attache , carried away by the interest of the conversation in which he was en gaged, took a lump of sugar from the sugar-bowl with his finger when the servant presented the tray to him. Count Demidoff, indignant at this breach of etiquette, signed to the lackey to throw the rest of the contents of the sugar bowl out of the window. The lesson was a severe one, and struck dumb those who witnessed it. But the spir ituel young offender, while understand ing perfectly the insult intended, pre served an imperturbable calmness. He slowly drained the contents of his enp, and, walking deliberately to the window, he fixed his eyes on M. Demidoff and tossed caressly into the street the cup and saucer of priceless Sevres and the gold spoon. “ I did not know that such was the usage,” he said to the count. And then he recommenced his conversation with an air of perfect nou chalence. A Vicksburg lady was recently in quiring of a girl from over the river how a certain old acquaintance, who married a widower a few months ago, got along. “ Very poorly,” replied the girl; “ there’s five children, who ought to be spanked twice a day, and Maria’s left-handed and can’t begin to do ’em justice. Poor woman, my heart bleeds for her!” The largest library in the United Stats is the library of congress, which contains 274,000 volumes; next in order is the Boston Public library, with 273,- 000, whilst the Harvard University library, with 198.000, and the New York Mercantile library, with 155,120, are respectively third and fourth in point of size. THE MVTRISONIAL MARKED Its Distressing Dullness All Over the Country. Sinoe the panic, the matrimonial market has been extremely dull, and heads of families are in most despond ent mood. It had been hoped last fall that the usual winter’s festivities or marriage fairs would have witnessed a revival iu trade, and every legitimate effort was made by those having on hand stocks held over from the previous season to force off goods that were rapidly growing out of fashion and depreciating iu value. Prices were liberally marked down; young ladies who before the panic were held (by themselves) at a Fifth avenue house, a Newport villa and an opera box, mod estly hung out signals of distress and openly avowed their predilections for love in a cottage. But so depressed was the general feeling that even with these concessions very little real busi ness was transacted; there was much skirmishing but few serious engage ments. It is well known that at this moment it is a matter of anxious debate with the heads of our leading up town houses as to what is the best plan to adopt during the coming summer cam paign to infuse more briskness and firmness into the market. It is, at least, an open question whether the increased budget necessary to a vig orous taking of the field at Sharon or Saratoga would be justified in view of the barren results at these matrimonial centres during the past two years. These summer exchanges certainly at tract the better class of buyers, but competition is necessar ly so much the keener. Experience, too, has shown that two weeks at a quiet seaside or mountain resort will practically pro mote more business (not to speak of the vastly reduced percentage of operating expenses) than two months at a fash ionablewatering-place; but without men it is impossible for even the most beauti ful and accomplished of maidens to launch her little bark on the sea matri monial, and desirable men, the genuine, high-priced articles, rarely are kept on hand at the more modest resorts. When, however, they are found there, they are had at as eminent disadvantages as whales in shoal water, and. helpless for stout and prolonged resistance, fall an easy prey to their great enemy. Veter an dowager dealers, who for the last forty years have been engaged in this branch of trade, freely confess that dnriDg the whole course of their com mercial experiences they have never known so prolonged a period of extreme depression, with not the faintest glim mer of better times. Tho out-look is, indeed, gloomy. Washington, which during the winter season is a sort of matrimonial Novgorod or Leipzig, offer ing to the speculative investor a greater choice of goods than can be found at any other center in this country, was so overstocked last jear that there was a fall of at least fifty per cent, in first class fancy calicoes, and even at these ruinous sacrifices, though the offerings were large, but little property changed hands. Learned Fools. The exuberant fecundity of the im aginative faculties of some geological savants led them into a blunder re cently, which would be amusing if only it were a degree or two less ridiculous. It appears that in the Turkish collection of geological specimens which were ex hibited at the Vienna exposition were a number of odd-looking instruments of flint, six inches long, an inch broad, and a quarter of an inch thick. After a close examination of these uniaue curiosities, and a large amount of reck ondite cackling over them by learned geological experts, they were pro nounced to be flint knive3 of the ver itable stone age. The discovery was hailed as a great acquisition to science; and in the opinion of these learned pun dits, went far to prove that man existed and delved and worked with tools at a period far earlier than any of which we have any record in the Bible. Geologists were triumphant over these wonderful flints, which had proved the antiquity of pre-historic man and dissipated an other of the fables of the Inspired Record. But “mark now, how plain a tale” has put the savants down, and how completely they hoaxed themselves by trusting to their own fertile imagin ations. It has been discovered that the flints in question are modem instrn- ( ments which are in universal use at this day by peasant husbandmen of Rume lia, Anatolia and Syria, in the con struction of their threshing machines, which are armed with these knives. There is the whole of the mystery ! The learned geologists knew all about the stone age, but were utterly ignorant concerning the present age. The inci dent is an evidence of the slight foun dation on which the scientists are wont to build their facts, as well as of their easy credulity, or shall we say gulli bility ?— Christian Intelligencer. Plants as Weather Guides. It is well known that certain plants are very sensitive to ehangts in the at mosphere, and by their behavior, the opening and closing of their leaves and flowers, etc., serve as natural barome ters to indicate the coming weather. A Prussian horticulturist, Mr. Hanne man, of Broekau, has published a long list of plants, the indications of which he has found trustworthy. The Pim pemell, or poor man’s weather-glass, {Anagallis arvensis,) expand their flowers at the approach of wet weather, whilst on the other hand the different varieties of clover contact their leaves before rain. If fine bright weather is in prospect, the leaves of the chickweed (Stellaria media) unfold and its flowers remain awake and erect until mid day. When the plant droops and its flowers do not expand, rain may be expected. The half-opening of the flowers is a sign that the wet will not last long. The Barnet saxifrage ( Pimpinella sax ifraga) indicates the coming weather in the same manner. As to the small Cape marigold, ( Calendula pluvialis,) should it open at six or seven a. m., and not close till four p. m., we may reckon on settled weather ; if the flower continues sleeping after seven, it betokens rains. Wood sorrel, ( Oxalis, acetocella,) and other species of Oxalis, indicate rain by closing their leaves. “ Got the ’phoby, have ye ? Cant’ swallow any liquid, eh ?” she observed to her husband, who had refused water for two days. “ Well, we'll seeand the good old woman drew the cork Irom the whisky bottle and placed the nozzle near her liege’s mouth. Milliss’ face emerged from its gloom like a full moon from behind a cloud, and glancing at his wifi with a quizzical expression, he said: “Oome to think of it Jane, I don’t believe that dog had any teeth.” VOL. 16--NO: 30. SAYINGS AND DOINGS. The Wine op Life. — The spring is lovely on the earth and sky, Because its beauty must so soon go by. And Love’s young dream is sweet because Its day Swifter than spring's first blossoms fades away. Yet to have loved, though Love has fled, is bliss, For nothing warms the human heart like this. Of that glad wine my soul has drunk its fill; Now the sun sinks,—let night oome when it will. The unknown hours may bring or shade or Bhine, The treasure in my heart is always mine. When a man has a business that doesn’t pay, he usually begins to look around for a partner to share his losses with him. Cause and eonsequenoe. The great New York merchant prince, Stewart, advertised to the extent of 885,000 last year. Brt it was less than one per oent of the total amount of his sales. ! Fermentation of food should be guarded against as the warm weather approaches. This action is always liable to cooked vegetables when set aside. Instead of warming up oold n esses, it is better to scald them. "There!” exclaimed the indignant Boston wife, as she fetches her husband a resonant whack on the head with a chair-rocker, “ I’ll raise a Bunker Hill monument on yon that you’ll remem ber.” In a recent investigation of the num ber of missionaries and converts in Japan the following was the result: Greek church, missionary, 3,000 con verts. Roman Catbolio, 40 missionaries, 20,000 converts ; Protestant, 70 mission aries, 200,000 converts. Many persons are in the habit of sleeping for half an hour immediately after dinner. Ten minutes sleep before dinner is worth more than an hour after. It rests and refreshes, and pre pares the system for vigorous digestion. If sleep is taken after dinner, it should be in a sitting posture, as the horizontal position is unfavorable to digestion. Lot those who need rest and sleep during the day take it before dinner instead of after, and they will soon And that they will feel better, and that their digestion will be improved there by. A FAMiLT in this oity, the widowed father of which has been somewhat afflicted of late with an attempted in termeddling of an uproarous sister-in law, has a six-year-old girl that has a “faculty of prayer.” A few evenings since she enumerated the objects of her supplications as follows : “ God bless papa and my governess, and my sisters and brother, and my uncle Sam, and my aunt Georgia, and my twin cousins and cousin Julia, and all my relations ex cept Maud and Jane and Ellen (the ob noxious aunts), and the less you have to do with them the better it will be for yon.” —San Franc? eco Chronicle. When yon get fairly across the bloody chasm yon might as well wade up to the waistband. It was ex-Gov. Andrews of Sonth Carolina who was so affected by dhe appearance and the enthusiasm of 'the Boston ladies as to remark that he “ felt that an angel, a thousand angels, had oome down and tonched the pool of misunderstanding, and that henceforth the waters were to be pure and sweet, and were to flow out and mingle with others on every side from our great country, all converging in one united interest, bearing upon their bosom affectionate greeting to all the members of our great family.” Gosh! There is nothing which man can pro pose, however ridiculous, but that some one will be crazy enough to take it up. Tyndall’s prayer test has found some lK)dy to try it in the Peculiar People, who have hired an old building in Lon don Fields, and stuck up a notice invit ing the halt, the lame, the blind and incurable generally to present them selves to be prayed over. Measles, smallpox, and all similar ailments re ceive the same medicine. A number of the sect are already under commitment in the Old Bailey to be tried for man slaughter, and the rest are on little bet ter terms with the police. An analysis of England’s marriage statistics presents some cnrions data relative to the probabilities of marriage for women at different ages. Thus, supposing the snm of a woman’s chances of marriage to be 100, these statistics show that she exhausts between the ages of 15 and 21, 14i chances. If she lives unmarried from 20 to 25, 52 more of her chances appear to be lost; and if she remains unmarried for 5 more years she will turn 30 with only li\ ohanoes out of her 100 left. Alter 35 fhe has 114 chanoes ; and even after a woman lias lived unmarried 60 years, she still has the tenth of a chance out of the original 100. Fair Hair.— Says a writer : Shakes peare especially appears to have de lighted greatly *in golden hair. “Her sunny locks hang on her temples like the golden fleece,” he says of Portia in ‘ ‘The Merchant of Venice. ” Twice only in his plays does he mention black hair, while numerous scattered allusions everywhere show that he esteemed fair hair the peculiar attribute of his deli cately imagined and beautiful women. It is a singular fact that among the por traits by the great masters hanging in the national gallery of England—ltalian, Flemish, Spanish, and French—there is net a single feminine head repre sented with blaok hair among them all. Pope has founded one of his finest loems, “The Rape of the Lock,” upon a woman’s hair, and he declares in a well-known couplet— Fair tresses man’s imperial race ensnare, And beauty draws us by a single hair. Asa race, the Chinese are the most inveterate and consistent of iatalists. Their in difference is the time of grief and trouble, which we generally ascribe to apathy, is more commonly the result of their philosophy. Medicine, as is well known, is with them a science in which for hundreds of years no progress has been made, owing, it would seem, in a great measure, to their fatalism. With a Chinese population iu a city of twelve thousand, theie are, at the most, njt more than ten physicians, and these and srive their incomes in a great measure from outside sources, Such remedies as are commonly in use among them hive probably been proved by the ex perience of oenfrnries. A Chinese crim inal, not destitute of money, in mafly cases refuses to employ an attorney, in the firm conviction that whatever he does will not alter the result of the trial; and such ai do procure counsel are in clined to be unoommunioative and indif ferent in enlightening him as to the facts ,in the case, and await the result with the utmost seeming indifference. In answer to the interrogations of coun sel, they ard apt to turn away with a shrug and “ You are lawee man- Tow know allf same me,”