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LIFE AND DEATH.
j.,th life Hurvlve the touch of Death?
Death’s hand alone the secret. hold,
Which ae to each one ho unfolds,
Wp press to know with bated breath.
A whisper there, a whisper here.
Confirms that hope'to which wo cling;
But still we grasp at anything,
And sometimes hope and sometimes four.
gome whisper that the dead we knew
Hover around us while we pray.
Anxious to speak. We canuot say ;
W<> only wish it may be true.
I know a Stoic who has thought,
‘•Ah healthy blood flows through his veins,
And joy his present life sustains,
And all this good has come unsought.
“ For more he cannot rightly pray,
bifp mny extend or life may cease ;
He hides the Issue, sure of peace,
Sure of the best in God’s own way.
“Perfection waits the race of man ;
tf, working out this great design,
God cuts us off, we must resign
To be the refuse of His plan.”
But I, for one, feel no such peaco;
I dare to think I have in me
That which had better never be;
If lost before it can increase.
And oh ! the ruined piles of mind,
Daily discovered everywhere,
Built but to crumble in despair ?
I dare not think him so i.nkind.
The rudest workman would not fling
The fragments of his work awav,
If ev’ry useless bit of clay
lie trod on were a sentient thing.
And does the wisest worker take
CBiiek human hearts, instead of stone,
And hew and carve them one by oue,
Nor heed the pangs with which they break i
And more; if lint creation's waste,
Would He have given us sense to yearn
For the perfection none can earn
And hope the fuller life to taste ?
I think, if we must cease to be,
It is a cruelty refined,
To make the instincts of our mind
Stretch out toward eternity.
Wherefore I welcome nature’s cry,
As earnest of a life again,
Where thought shall never be in vain,
And doubt before the light shall fly.
Macmillan't Magazine.
“ SURPRISED.”
The evening train was just starting
for its journey out into the solitudes of
country wilds, when a tall, handsome
man of seven or eight and twenty
darted frantically into the depot and
swung himself, after a perilous fashion,
upon the platform of the moving cars !
“Just saved myself !” was his com
placent remark, and he settled himself
on the velvet cushions under the lamp.
“Yes—exactly just!’” commented a
gentleman who sat opposite. “I tell
you what, Harry Kneller, I shouldn’t
repeat that kind of experiment very
often, if I were you.”
“ Well, you see, I was in a great
hurry. I’ve been getting a little sur
prise for my wife, and somehow I got
behind time.”
“A surprise, eh ? ”
“You see,” went on Mr. Kneller,
confidently leaning over toward his
friend, “she’s exceedingly fond of
fried oystors, and up in the country we
never get any of that sort of thing.”
“ So that’s the secret of the pail, eh?”
said George Arden, laughing good-hu
moredly.
Mr. Kneller, on getting home, depos
ited his precious burden carefully in
the corner of the porch and walked in
with a nonchalant air.
“Well, Mattie!” as the blue-eyed
woman came to meet him and put up a
rosy mouth to be kissed; “supper
ready ? ”
“ Yes—and I’m so glad you come
home early, Harry, for Mrs. Evarts is
sick, and they want me to sit up with
her to-night.”
“All right!” said Harry, good-hu
moredly. “ Go, by all means, piy pet.”
And he rubbed his hands, thinking
gleefully of the fine field lie should
have for his “surpiise.”
“ I will be buck before seven to-mor
row, Harry,” went on Mary Kneller
a musical clinking among the china tea
cups and saucers, “ and you shall have
your breakfast in time for the train.”
“Shall I?” thought Harry, nearly
poking himself with scalding tea, in
his fitroog souse of the implied joke.
“Couldn’t have happened better,” he
pondered, as lie toasted his slipper
soles before the fire, while Marv was
washing the china, and hovering about
the apartment “on household tlipughts
intent’’— or Mr. and Mrs. Harry Ivnel
ler were young people of limited in
come, and had not yet aspired to the
dignity of “help”—“no; it couldn’t
possibly have happened better ! A fair
held and no favor ; and when M a ttie
comes back to-morrow morning she’ll
hnd breakfast ready, fried oysters and
\r ’ , or . Pm uncommonly mistaken !
'Non t it be a jolly surprise?”
“ (rood gracious, Harry ! what are
'"on doing ?” ejaculated Mary, as her
husband gave vent to a very audible
chuckle. “What pleases you so much ?”
“ I’leases me? Nothing !” said Harry,
trying to look austere all of a sudden,
and uttering, “I—l was thinking how
°® e v I should be without you, dear!”
Harr y Kneller tied a little
into Cashmere hood over her brown
ringlets, and enveloped herself in a
prodigious Scotch plaid shawl, and
ripped away under her husband’s arm
"Mrs. Kv ar t’ s abode, half a mile be
yond.
Good-night, darling!” said Harry,
door ki oß ber rosy cheeks at the
“Good-night, Harry.”
, n( * 1 8a .Y, Mattie,’’pursued Kneller,
unable to repress a brief flash of exul
mA on ’ “don’t be astonished at any
e surprise I may have in store for
* a to-morrow morning !”
Surprise ? ’
but Harry was off before the dissylla
,, r, fa,rl .Y passed Mary’s lips.
Harry Wlll b ° fun ! ’ bought
VV ith the first gray dawn of the chilly
an l G f - a ! orn^n R Harry Kneller was up
ft f l with a vivid remembrance
18 laurels he was to reap by that
mornmg’a work.
i. 'here are the oystors?” pondered
’ carefully holding the skirts of his
uiorning wrapper, so that the fire should
ber , eu T dan / er “ Oh, I remem
. _"I left them out on the piazza.
iv made a rush for the piazza.
ATOn ,. ro f e J , D by Jupiter! Just myluck
,y • frozen like a rock. However,
re thawed out again, on a hot
Ti ’ P P u t the coffee stewing too.
lnt;° n ow i UBt exactly what tlieregu
lauon rations of coffee are, but if I fill
Btiong 0 ” can belp being
tionmo nel J or made a liberal appor
arr of c °ffee, fined up the pot
coulH Il er ’ and placed {t on the bot
)tn a countenance expressive of
lie iastoi Sitttes;
Two Dollars Per Annum,
VOLUME 11.
great satisfaction ; while close beside it
tho pail of frozen oysters was exposed
to the genial influence of caloric.
They’ll boil like ginger pretty
soon,” thought Harry. “And now
1 il stir up a buckwheat or so—l know
where Mattie koeps tne bag of flour.”
Stir up a buckwheat or so” sounds
remarkably easy, but Mr. Kneller found
it a more difficult task than he had ap
prehended.
“ I—don’t—-see where—the hitch—
is,” slowly soliloquized our hero. “It
ought to foam over, with little bubbles
on the top,at least Mattie’s always does.
Perhaps the cold weather makes a dif
ference. Halloo! I’ve forgotten all
about the potatoes ! ”
But not a potato could be found, and
Harry Kneller, with all the originality
of a great mind, fell back on a pan of
withered yellow turnips, four in num
ber, which he put boiling in a prodigi
ous iron pot, with the cover safely held
down by a couple of flat irons.
“ It will boil ail the sooner,” thought
Harry. “ Nothing like an economy of
heat. Now then for the oysters ! ”
Tho frying pan was liberally
anointed with butter and placed on the
fire, and Harry began operations by
impaling a fat half-frozen oyster on the
prongs of a fork.
“They dredge ’em in flour first,”
thought Harry, reflectively eyeing his
his oyster ; “ and whose the flour bar
rel is, I’m hanged if I know ! Ah-h 1
there it is under the cellar shelf.”
And Harry plunged his oyster down
into the white powdery depths, bring
ing it up an oblong sphere of snow.
“ That’s the time of day ! Now, my
fine fellow, cook away at your leisure,
while I give your brothers white jack
ets, too! This is certainly a remark
ably fine flour. How fragrant the cof
fee smells ! Here’s a little drawback—
frying pan not big enough to hold the
oysters! Never mind; we’ll put them
in first and seomd series, like a volume
of popular essays !”
Mr. Harry Kneller paused to wipe
the streaming perspiration from his
brow. Half-past six! Mary would
soon be home—the “surprise” must
really be accelerated !
“ I really think the oysters must be
done on one side now,” said Harry, eye
ing the frying-pan scientifically and
making a dive at its contents with a
fork. “Halloo! why, they’re as hard
as bullets ! What on earth is the mat
ter ?” •
He stared with discomfited eyes at
the round, adamantine balls that he
imagined juicy- hearted oysters !
“ I’m not bewitched, am I?” he pon
dered. “ I’ve heard of money chang
ing to dry leaves, but I never heard of
oysters being transformed to stone ! It
can’t be possible that—it is possible,
and I’ve boen and gone and done it!
I’ve dredged my oysters in plaster of
Paris that was brought for the garden,
instead of the flour ! Here’s a pretty
blunder ! All the oysters spoilt!—
tweuty-live of ’em at five oents apiece,
and all through my stupidity !”
And at the same moment the spout of
the britannia coffee-pot parted company
with its main reservoir, and the coffee
grounds, wa er, and melting metal
poured into the lire in confused steam,
ashes, and noise.
While Harry Kneller gazed at the
chaos with a dim idea that it would be
best to evacuate the kitchen property
before the occurrence of any more dis
asters, the two flat-irons, impelled by
some unforeseen hydraulic pressure,
flew up against the ceiling, coming nois
ily down among china cups and piled
up plates, the pot cover following with
noise like the report of artillery, aud
giving Mr. Kneller a smart rap on the
side of the head as it came down, which
stretched him on the floor, still holding
the fossilled oyster out on the end of a
toasting fork.
While Harry lay prone on the kitchen
oil-cloth, considering within himself
whether he were killed dead, mortally
wounded, or not hurt at all, the door
opened, and Mrs. Kneller rushed in pale
and breathless.
“He has shot himself—l knowhe has!
He has committed suicide! Oh, Harry,
my own, own husband, speak to me !
Tell me you are not dead !”
“No —I don’t think I am,” enunciated
Mr. Kneller slowly, as his wife threw
herself on her knees beside him, nearly
strangling him with the fervency of her
embrace. “ Only I’ve smashed the
china, and fried the oysters in plaster
of Paris, and melted the nose off tho
coffee-pot. But I’m not dead, I think!”
And while Mary assisted him to rise,
in a little hysteric tremor between
laughing and crying, he looked sheep
ishly round on the chaos and ruin that
surrounded the death agonies of his
ambition as a cook.
“ You see, Mattie,” he said, glancing
dolorously down at his ash-besprinkled
habiliments, “ I wanted to give you a
little surprise, and—”
“And you have entirely succeeded,
my love,” said his wife, mischievously.
“You’re a splendid lawyer, dear, I’ve
no doubt; but you’ll never succeed in
life as a cook.” *
“I wish you’d tell me one thing,
Mattie,” he said that evening, as Mrs.
Kneller handed him his second cup of
tea. .
“And what is that?”
“ Why didn’t my buckwheat batter
foam over and bubble as yours does ? I
stirred it until my arm was lame.”
“My dear,” said Mary, laughing, “do
you suppose the buckwheat batter
didn’t know the difference between you
and me?”
“Nonsense!”
“ Of course it’s nonsense,” said Mary,
demurely, “if you mean your attempt
ing to fry oysters in plaster of Paris !”
And Mr. Kneller did not answer.
—Many young people think that an
idle life must be a pleasant one. Bat
this is a sad mistake, as they would
soon find out if they made a trial of the
life they think so agreeable. One who
is never busy can never enjoy rest; for
rest implies a relie: from previous labor;
and if our whole time were spent in
amusing ourselves, we should find it
more wearisome than the hardest day s
work. Recreation is only valuable as it
unbends us; the idle can know nothing
of it. Many people leave off business
and settle down to a life of enjoyment;
but they find that they are not nearly
so happy as they were before, and they
are often glad to return to the occupa
tions to escape the miseries.
EASTMAN, DODGE CO., GEORGIA, THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 1874. NUMBER 28.
Fashion Notes.
Corded jaconet is the favorite mate
rial for afternoon dresses.
Veils are almost entirely discarded
during this warm weather.
Embroidered “mule” slippers are, of
course, for dressiDg-room wear only.
It takes a remarkably pretty foot,
with a very high instep, to wear a shoe
with grace.
The sun hats that the ladies are wear
ing at the seaside, look like inverted
chopping-dishes tied on the head by a
bit of blue ribbon.
Very wide scarfs of China crepe, and
of silk gauze, take the place of over
skirts, by being draped in a similar
manner aud tied at the back.
Bustles are being worn again. Of
those the “ pompadour ” is the most in
vogue, although there are many who
are wearing full length hoops.
The hats design and for croquet are
Japanese shape, and entirely covered
with white muslin, finished by a black
velvet bow in the center.
Black grenadine over-dress, embroid
ered in the long black India stitch and
made heavy with fine cut jet beads, are
among the most stylish of the season.
To accommodate the high ruffs and
collars, the hair is worn high on the
head. Curls of all sizes from little
frizzes to long tresses, are arranged to
mingle with the braids and coils.
It is very common now for ladies to
have boots made of a piec3 of the mate
rial of their dresses. The gay or brown
linens are especially desirable for wear
with linen costumes.
Jabots are again in favor. The most
elegant of those arc of Mechlin lace,
arranged so as to form five or six shells,
with loops of delicate colored crape in
each shell, and a bow at the top.
There appears to be some change in
the stvle of wearing the hair. The back
braid is not worn so low in the neck,
and on top of the head a number of
finger puffs are arranged in a most pe
culiar manner.
Even linen collars are made to stand
at the neck, and are high at tha back,
with very small corners turned down at
the front. For morning wear and trav
eling, figured percale is being quite
generally chosen.
Striped navy blue cambric takes the
place of the figured and polka dot.
The demand is greater than the supply,
as the manufacturers are preparing their
looms for fall fabrics, and refuse to
make any more of that style.
The most popular night robe is that
with a sacque front and double yoke
back. The most elegant ones imported
for trousseaux have a square pompa
dour yoke of tucks, insertion and lace,
and reach the price of S7O.
In the glove line the Swedish or Sax
ony kid are the handsomest. Just now
it is so warm, howew r, that even Lisle
thread gloves are vetoed, and the old
fashioned silk mits are worn by those
who care more for ease than fashion.
The belts with chatelaiue attachments
are no longer novelties, but our designs
show them the latest and most approved
styles, with the exact methods adopted
for fastening and holding them in posi
tion.
Designs for summer boots and slip
pers show a vast improvement on the
unnatural and highly ornamented de
signs of some previous season. These
are shaped to the foot, are suitable for
walking, for mountain excursions, and
seaside revels in the sand.
For street wear, kid boots, buttoned
or laced high, and with broad soles, are
the popular styles. Low-cut shoes or
ties will be worn in the street later in
the season. Canvas slippers, or toilet
slippers, as they are called, are made
of yellow canvas and trimmed with
either black or blue braid.
Embroidery Workers.
A writer in Chamber’s Journal says :
“ The great centre of Swiss embroidery
ts at St. Gall, and the day on which the
work is brought is a festival ; early in
the morning the young women arrive
from all parts in their Sunday attire.
After attending service in the church
they collect in a large room around a
long table, where each receives a glass
of white wine. They begin to sing one
of their melodies in parts, while the
master goes round the tables, examines
the work and pays for it. If he refuses
any, and declines to take it, the dispute
is decided by a syndic, who sits in the
next room. When examination is over,
the head of the establishment throws a
mass of embroidery patterns on the ta
ble ; each girl chooses the kind she
likes best; it is inscribed in her book,
with the price agreed on, and the day
when it is to be returned. They are
very industrious; and by reasons of
tbeir grt at frugality, are contented with
very poor remuneration ; and be slight
ly sewiDg their pieces af work together
can have them washed at half the cost.
In Saxony the wages are so low that it
is wonderful how the women can live
upon them ;* in Scotland it is said that
many of the children receive only half
penny a day. A small number in Nan
cy, who can embroider coats-of-arms
and crests, earn three shillings a day ;
but from ten to twenty pence is the usu
al wages. It is a kind of work that en
dangers the sight; and as fashion reigns
supreme, it not unfrequently happens
that a style is abandoned before the or
ders are completed; when the merchant
profits by the smallest pretext to refuse
the work from the manufacturers ; and
in this way the loss often falls upon the
poor woman, who can scarcely buy her
bread or clothes.”
Royal Religions.
Queen Victoria is the legal head of
the Episcopal church of Eagland, and
the Presbyterian church of Scotland.
When she is in England her Presbyte
rian'sm is practically called “ dissent,”
and when she recrosses the Tweed into
Scotland her Episcopalianism becomes
“ dissent’’ there. She has a morbid
hatred of ritualism. The Prince of
Wales is inclined to ritualistic ceremo
nies, while his eldest sister, the Crown
Princess of Germanv, is a Lutheran;
his brother-in-law, Lord Lome is a
Presbyterian ; another brother-in law,
the Crown Prince of Prussia, is a Pro
testant Lutheran; a sister-in-law, the
Duchess of Edinburg, is a Greek Catho
lic ; her husband is a Low Church
Episcopalian; the other brothers and
sisters are Episcopalians and Presbyte
rians by turn, their particular creed de-
In God We Trust.
pending upon their residence for the
time being. The Princess of Wales is
naturally bewildered with the manifold
religions of her royal relations, and
clings to the faith she was taught in
Denmark.
AFRICAN EXPLORATIONS.
Henry 01. Stanley Sent Out by the New
York Herald and Hondou Daily Tele
graph to Finish Livingstone's Work.
We are in the position this morning
to announce that arrangements have
been concluded between the proprie
tors of the Daily Telegraph and Mr.
Bennett, proprietor of the New York
Herald, under which an expedition will
at once be dispatched to Africa with
the object of investigating and report
ing upon the haunts of the slave trad
ers ; of pursuing to fulfillment the
magnificent discoveries of the great ex
plorer, Dr. Livingstone, and of com
pleting, if possible, the remaining
problems of Central African geogiaphv.
This expedition has been undertaken
by, and will be under the sole com
mand of Mr. Henry M. Stanley, whose
successful journey “in search" of Liv
ingstone,” upon the suggestion and at
the charge of the proprietor of the
New Ycrk Herald, was the means of
succoring the illustrious traveler, and
securing to science the fruit of bis
researches, while it enabled our dis
tinguished countryman to prosecute his
latest investigations. Mr. Stanley will
in a short time leave England fully
equipped with boats, arms, stores, and
all the provision neccessary for a tbor
ough and protracted African expedition.
Commissioned by the Daily Telegraph
and the New York Herald in concert,
he will represent the two nations whose
common interest in the regeneration of
Africa was so well illustrated when the
lost English explorer was re-discovered
by the energetic American correspond
ent. In that memorable journey Mr.
Stanley displayed the best qualities of
an African traveler; and with no incon
siderable resources at his disposal to
reinforce his own complete acquaint
ance with the conditions of African
travel.it maybe hoped that veiy im
portant results will accrue from this un
dertaking, to the advantage of science,
humanity and civilization.— London
Daily Iclegraph, July 4.
Paris on Sunday.
On Sunday Paris puts on its garb of
media)val gayety and rushes madly to
tho races. An immense throng of vehi
cles make their way up the Champs
Ely sees, and from the Arc de Triom
phe seem to cover the long and graceful
alley under the blossoming trees like a
swarm of insects. All classes of the pop
ulation join in the frequent carnival.
Gamblers, duelists, and statesmen, ar
tists and poets, dukes and legitimists,
the whole corps, apparently, of the
Legion of Honor, clerks, shop keepers,
students, mingle in the mad chase of
pleasure, an l don the cap of folly. Of
the fairer, but not in this instance al
ways the gentler sex, the thiong is no
less conspicuous. Painted tnd dariDg
faces dash by, from whose, extravagant
modes of dress the fashion of the world
are governed. Close at their side
duchesses and famous women, the
leaders of Parisian society, rich and
languid mothers whose intants are at
nurse in the deadly shambles of the
suburbs, American matrons who are
“educating” children in Paris,
English ladies who have forgotten the
proprieties of Victoria’s court. Vir
tue and vice ride on together. The
refinements of the nineteenth century,
the delicacy of cultivated life, the
charms of moral purity, are lost in me
diaeval folly. It is as if one were trans
ported back to the city of Rabelais or
°f Henry 111., saw Catherine de Me
dici amidst her maids of honor, or the
women of the Fronde and the League
at their maddest exploits. In the Sun
day evenings, lam told, ihe throngs of
fashion fill the theatres to listen to
plays from which modesty shrinks, at
which virtue trembles. It is easy to
conceive that in such society dissipation
and mad gayety lead to their natural
results, that crime, remorse, despair,
brood over the scenes of fancied pleas
ures. Paris teems with tales of horror
—unnatural mothers, frightful fathers ;
the wretched jhome, the sudden death,
suspicions almost too dreadful to be
told, fates harder than those of the vic
tims of all common misfortune, are
usual themes. There are rumors of
fair American women who have pur
chased titles at the loss of their for
tunes, happiness, and even their lives ;
of American families who have ven
tured within the circle of Parisian gay
ety, ana been undone, It is certain
that Paris is no safe school in which to
complete an American education.
How About The Trot ing Turf ?
There has been a marked falling off
this year in the entries for the purses
advertised by Cleveland, Buffalo and
Springfield. The telegrah reports the
number of entries received as follows :
For the nine purses for trotters at
Cleveland, amounting to thirty-three
thousand dollars, sixty-fonr nomina
tions are made, which, at ten per cent.,
swells the entrance money to $22,400.
leaving $10,600 to be provided for out
of the gate money and pool receipts.
The nine purses advertised by the
Buffalo Park Association, aggregating
$51,000, have called out sevennty-three
entries, which, at ten per cent., makes
the tax on owners and drivers amount
to $36,540, leaving $14,550 to be gath
ered from the gate and other receipts.
Last year the eight purses, amounting
to $67,000, had eighty-five nominations.
The money received in entrance fees
was $61,550, leaving $5,950 to be pro
vided for the purchasers of admission
tickets. The eight purses advertised
by Springfield this year foot up $45,-
000. The entries are sixty-two, and the
entrance fees $33,350. the difference
between the money paid out by th-
Association, and the monev paid in by
the owners of horses is $11,650. Last
year the purses given by Springfield
aggregated $38,000, and the nominations
counted one hundred and fifteen. The
entrance fees were $49,400, or SII,OOO
more than the total of the purses. The
loss to the Hampden Park Association
this year, as compared with the success
of last, is just $22,650. Thct figures,
we imagine, are sufficiently striking to
impress one at a glance.— Turf, Field
and Farm.
“Cats”—After Victor Hugo ”
In the burlesque novel which Punch is
now publishing, after the French of
“ Fictor Nogo” (Victor Hugo;, the fol
lowing remarks on cats appear in con
nection with the passage of the hero
through the streets of London at night:
“Antoneroly, muttered to himself
‘ Heigho !’ and passed along the de
serted streets. ”
“He seemed to be treading on the
silent tombs of the nameless and the
forgotten.
“H e heard the march of cats through
the darkness.”
“ They rushed to an attack with loud
cries, springing up suddenly from every
quarter—areas, roofs, balconies, lamp
posts, gutters, lanes, passages, courts,
alleys, and thoroughfares.
“They flew up the trees in the
squares, and scurried madly round the
crescents.
“ All their habits were nocturnal.
“ The feline rule always is to appear
unexpectedly.
“ How many tragic sights have been
witnessed by the statues of the metrop
olis !
“At Antoneroly’s footsteps the cats
fled, filling mews after mews with their
unearthly cries.
“Quiet neighborhood—back streets.
These words sum up the whole of the
Feline war.
“ They live in purr-lieus.
“It is a quarrel of localities of fami
ly against family; tabby against tor
toise-shell ; pussy-cat against pussy-cat.
“All our attempts, our movements in
legislation and in education, our ency
clopaGias, our philosophies, our genius,
our glories, all fall before the Cats.
“ Could its youth be trained ?
“ The Cat’s-cradle has even been a
puzzle.
“They love blind-alleys. Strange
blindness !
“A colossal scuffle, a jangling of
Tittums, an immeasureable rebellion,
without strategy, without plan, chival
ric and savage, appearing like fantastic
black, shadows, tails of the past, the
devastation of g ass, the destruction of
flower pots in back yards, the ruin of
squares, the terror of invalids—such is
the sleepless warfare.
“Antoneroly passed on among the
vanishing shadows.”
The Duty of a Woman to be a Lady.
Wildness is a thing which girls can
not afford. Delicacy is a thing which
cannot bo lost and found. No art can
restore to the grape its bloom. Famil
iarity without love, without confidence,
without regard, is destructive to ali
that makes woman exalting and enno
bling.
“Tno world i 8 wide, theas things are small •
They may be nothing, but they are all.” ’
Nothing ? It is the first duty of a wo
man is u to be a lady. Good breeding is
good sense, Bad manners in woman is
immorality. Awkwardness mny ko
eradicable. Bashfulness is constitu
tional. Ignorance of etiquette is the
result of circumstances. All can be
condoned, and do not banish man or
woman Irom the amenities of their
kind. But self-possessed, unshrinking
and aggressive coarseness of demeanor
may be reckoned as a state prison of
fense, and certainly merits that mild
form of restraint called imprisonment
for life. It is a shame for women to be
lectured on their manners. It is a bit
ter shame that they need it. Women
are the umpires of society. It is they
to whom all mooted points should be
referred. To be a lady is more than to
be a prince. A lady is always in her
right inalienably worlhy of respect. To
a lady, prince and peasant alike bow.
Do not be restrained. Do not have im
pulses that need restraint. Do not
wish to dance with the prince unsought,
—feel differently. Be such that you
confer honor. Carry yourselves so
loftily that men shall look up to you for
reward, not at you for rebuke. The
natural sentiment of man toward woman
is reverence. He loses a large means
of grace when he is obliged to account
her being to be trained into propriety.
A man’s ideal is not wounded when a
woman fails in worldly wisdom ; but if
in grace, in tact, in sentiment, in deli
cacy, in kindnes, she should be found
wanting, he receives an inward hurt.—
Gail Hamilton.
“ Help ” in Virginia.
Writing of Virginia mountaineers,
Donn Piatt says : They have the same
sense of social equality that afflicts the
native-born laboring class of the west,
and although poverty lives in the
mountains, making it difficult to exist,
and certainly to exist with comfort, it is
imposible to get house-servants from
among the natives for love or money.
A charming little lady here, Mrs. Mor
gan, sister-in-law to tne late and famous
John Morgan, gave us a very amusing
account of her trials in this direction.
Her first experience was with a tall,
angular mountain maid.
One morning she announced a visitor
to Mrs. Morgan.
“ Who is he, Malvina?”
“ Lord above knows, I don’t; he’s a
total stranger to me,”
“ Is he a gentleman ? ”
“Well, he ain’ a niggah.”
“ Did he not give you his name ? ”
“ Not much. But I didn’t ask him.”
“ But he gave his card ? ”
“ You mean that bit uv papah with
the printin’ on it ? ”
“ Of course ; what did you do with
it?
“ Why I just put it whar I seed the
others, on the pahlow tab e.”
“ How vexatious ; and what did you
say to him ? ”
“ I told him to hitch onto the doah
knob till 1 seed yon.”
The Crops in the North-west.
It is quite manifest that the advices
from different sections of Minnesota,
Wisconsin, northern Illinois, and lowa
indicate that the prospects for the yield
of soring wheat are not so flattering as
they were two weeks ago. In fact, it
seems to be conceded that the yield of
1874 wid be far below that of 1873.
Reports from all sections indicate
that th corn crop looks as well as it
did in 1872, *hich was an unusually
prolific year, and corn is really food
for both man and beast, and therefore,
of the very first importance to the
farmer. The weather continues dry,
and if the corn has hereafter a suffi
Payable in Advance.
cienoy of rain, and the country is not
visited by the early autumnal frost, the
farmers will make on their corn what
they will lo v e on their smaller wheat
crop. The harvest throughout the
north-west generally will at least be ten
days earlier than i| was in 1873,
The Scanaal as a Sedative.
Friday evening a woman about thiity
years old was arrested in the western
district for disturbing the peace, and
the event almost distracted her, al
though she had seen the inside of a cell
before. She began howling and weep
ing as soon as she was locked up, and
Bijah, the janitor of the Ninth avenue
station, felt his heart getting tender.
He offered her a harvest apple, but she
merely stopped long enough to see what
it was, and then went on crying out:
‘*lam dying, I know I am !”
He besought her to live for the sake
of her husband, who is away on the
lakes, but she said she would be cold in
death before morning if not set at liber
ty. He showed her the almapac and
tried to induce her to peruse it and
settle her mind, but she tried to pull
his hair through the bars and raised her
voice until it could be heard two blocks
away. He began reading the almanac
out loud, but she drowned his voice and
he bad to give up. Then he went out
and bought some peppermint drops and
handed to her, saying that it was a
burning shame to arrest a lady like her
for merely hitting another woman on
the ear with a shovel. She was quiet
for a few minutes and then broke out
again, and the roof of the station seem
ed to be raising up. Bijah offered her a
pound of gum drops, anew bonnet, a
black silk dress, house ad lot and sso‘-
000 in bonds if she would only quit,
but she danced up and down and yelled:
“ Lemmie eon tor I shall di-ah !”
He.locked all the doors and sat down
on the front steps to let her exhaust
herself, but, after an hour and ten min
utes, there being no cessation, he ran in
with an ax on his shoulder and threat
ened to cut her head right off if she
didn’t stop.
“ I won’t ! I won’t ! I won’t !” she
shouted, dancing up and down, and
taking a fresh start. He drummed on
the coal scuttle with the' ax to drown
her voice,' but the voice drowned the
scuttle. He put the hose on the pen
stock and threatened to drown her, but
she shut her eyes and pitched her voice
on anew key.
The old man was in despair. The men
up stairs couldn’t sleep, ahd people oat
doors thgpuht that a panther had been
caged. As the officer rubbed his bald
head and looked aroun 1 his eye lighted
on an old paper, and his smile extended
from ear to ear. He carried it in,
turned up the gas, and shouted :
“ Have you read the Beecher scandal
yet ?”
“Read what!” she exclaimed, sud
denly ceasing to scream.
‘' D„oui,vi tiuuu mnrr, nc con
tinued—“this ’ere thing what every
body is talking about ?”
“No—where is it ?” she asked, and
he passed in the paper, telling her that
if she would be good he’d hunt up the
rest of the statement in another paper;
and from that moment until daylight
the woman never uttered a word, except
once when she asked if there weren’t
seven or eight more papers with state
ments in. —Detroit tree Press.
“Josh Billings ” in English.
Time is money, aad many people pay
their debts with it.
Ignorance is the wet-nurse of preju
dice.
Wit without sense is a razor without
a handle.
Half the discomfort of life is the re
sult of getting tired of ourselves.
Benevolence is the cream on the milk
of human kindness.
People of good sense are those whose
opinions agree with ours.
Face all things; even adversity is po
lite to a man’s face.
Passion always lowers a great man,
but sometimes elevates a little one.
Style is everything fer a sinner, and
a little of it will not hurt a saint.
Men now-a-days are divided into slow*
Christians and wide-awake sinners.
There are people who expect to es
cape hell because of the crowd going
there.
Most people are like eggs—too full of
themselves to hold anything else.
It is little trouble for a graven image
to be patient oven in fly time.
Old age increases us in wisdom—and
in rheumatism.
A mule is a bad pun on a horse.
Health is a loan at call.
Wheat is a serial. lam glad of it.
Manner is a great deal more attractive
than matter, especially in a monkey.
Adversity to a man is like training to
a pugilist. II; reduces him to his fight
ing weight.
Pleasure is like treacle. Too much
of it spoils the taste for everything.
Necessity is the mother of invention,
but patent right is the father.
Did you ever hear a very rich man
sing ?
Beware of the man with half-shut
eyes. He’s not dreaming.
Man was built after all other things
had been made snd pronounced good.
If not he would have insisted on giving
i his orders as to the rest or the job.
Mice fatten slow in a church. They
can’t live on religion, no more than min
isters can.
Fashion cheats the eccentric with the
claptrap of freedom, and makes them
serve in the habiliments of the harle
quin.
There are farmers so full of science
that they won’t set a gate post till they
have had the earth under the gate post
analyzed.
When lambs get through being lambs
they become sheep. This takeß the sen
timent out of them.
—The Chicago Tribune has been ex
amining into food adulterations in that
city. The special field selected has
been an analysis of the groceries sold
at the leading grocery stores ir that
city. Specimens have been bought
from various establishments, in the
usual course of trade, of sugar, coffee,
tea, soap, syrups, cream of tartar, bak
ing powders, etc., and they have been
subjected to analytical te.-ts by a skill
ful chemist. The result shows that
every article tested is adulterated to a
greater or less degree.
EASTMAN TIMES.
RATES OF ADVERTISING:
■ " m■■
spack. 1 m. 3 m. 6 m. 13 m.
One square $4 00 $ $ Offl $ 1000 S 15 00
Iwo squares fi 25 12 ooj iOO 35 00
Four squares 975 la 09j 28 00 39 00
One-half col 2000 82 ROi 65 00 80 00
One column 35 00 60 00! 80 00 130 00
Advertisements inserted at the rate of fi 50 per
square for the first insertion, and 75 cents for each
subsequent one. Ten linos or less constitute a
square.
Professional cards, $15.00 fpr annum; for u
months, SIO.OO, in advance.
FACTS AND FANCIES.
—Tomatoes w r ere tirst used in this
country as an edible in the yejr 1819,
but they did not come into general nso
until more than twenty years subse
quent to that date.
—A pair of old boots, a bag of salt
and a pound of copperas, if dropped
in o a spring at the right time of the
year, will go a good ways toward es
tablishing a fashionable summer resort
—Oshkosh, Wis., boasts of a woman
104 years old, and, as it is popular to
assign some reason for living so long, it
is asserted that she “never used ker
osene oil.”
—Simeon Gray, of Port Hope, Dela
ware, shot - himself because some ono
left a baby on his door-step. How
much better to have picked qp the in
fant and softly handed it along to the
house around the corner.
—ln some localities of Illinois the
chinch-bug has already destroyed .half
of the growing corn crop. Entire fields
look as if they had been drenched with
scalding water, and great alarm is felt
among the farming communities.
—ln order to make the lowlands in
Louisiana safe for residents, 1,500
miles of levee, or 50,000,000 cubic
yards of wall will have to be built.
The necessary repairs at crevasses
alone are expected to cost $3,000,000,
of which Uncle Sam is expected to pay
two-thirds.
—A writer in the Rural Now Yorker
says, that cows should be salted every
morning, and in the stable, before fod
dering, but never after taking water.
This is the practice of the best stock
keepers of Switzerland, and he thinks
it quite i referable to salting them once
or twice a week, or to keep it constantly
within their reach.
~ —Mustard is considered to be one of
the most wholesome of condiments. It
is always best to prepare it in small
quantities, and send it, up quite fresh.
It should be smoothly blended with
milk or cream, to which a small portion
of salt may be added, till reduced to
the proper consistence. If required
piquant, vinegar or horse-radish vine
gar may be substituted for the milk.
—At a Presbyterian church, in Sarato
ga, a sermon was recently delivered ou
the Christian’s regatta toward tho
heavenly goal. He was described as
feathering his oar with precision, turn
ing the stakeboat of life with all the
resolution of faiih, coming down the
desperate course of the homestretch
with vigor, fixing his eye on the heaven
ly Referee and taking good care not to
imitate the disciple Judas and break
his scull.
—Each period of life requires espe
cial gifts and graces. Therefore, inde
pendently of the progress of character,
persons shine particularly in one or an
other period, according to their natural
temperament and endowments. Those
who most cuarrn us m youtn uo not
always dispense the steady fragrance of
good deeds in middle life ; and our
ideal of old age is often best satisfied
by those who have passed unnoticed
through the more active periods of life.
—A distinguished clerical gentleman
of Wisconsin is somewhat noted for
parsimony, and for “dead-heading”
his way on lecture tours, etc. He has
been a great traveler, and at a social
party in Madison in conversation with
the hostess, he said : “ Madam, do you
know that I also, like Leander and
Lord Byron, swam across the Helles
pont?” "The lady said: “I have no
doubt but what you did, rather* than
to pay your fare on a steamboat.”
—There is a Chinese establishment
on camp street, near Julia, New Orleans,
that manufactures a peppermint oil;
and the following placard can be seen
in its show-window :
“ the Peppermint Oil
for
Hed ake
Belli© “
Toth “
this oil anny person
ort to have a bottle in his pocket it will
kure eny tine sickness ware it happen.”
—Canon Kingsley, in his recent work
on “ Health and Education,” says :
“Did I try to train a young man of
science to be true, devout, and earnest,
accurate, and daring I should say :
Read what you will, but at least read
Carlyle. It is a small matter to me,
and I doubt not to him, whether you
will agree with his special conclusions,
but his premises and his method are
irrefragable ; for they stand on fact and
common sense.”
Cnicken down is said to form a
beautiful cloth when woven. For about
a square yard of the material, a pound
and a-half of down is required. The
fabric is said to be almost indestruct
ible, as, in place of fraying or wearing
out at folds, it only seems to felt the
tighter. It takes dye readily, and is
thoroughly water-proof. There ap
pears to be a good opportunity here for
some ingenious person to invent ma
chines to cut and treat feathers.
—Some enterprising St. Louisans,
with a number of Southerners, have
negotiated for a tract of territory,
which has been found suitable for the
growth in large quantities of the trop
ical plant, pita, the fibre of which is
claimed to be superior to jute or hemp.
These gentlemen are of the belief that
very simple machinery wall prepare
their plant for market, and that its
manufacture will prove very profitable,
now that the production of hemp is de
creasing in this country.
“You have not sent for me, but I
have come ! Your name, sir, is known
and honored from one end of this great
republic to the other. When the Na
tional Treasury was threatened by a
horde of greedy congressmen, you
stood like a wall of adamant between
the people and those infamous salary
grabbers. Lend me a dollar !” “My
dear sir,” the colonel hastened to ex
plain, “you mistake the case entirely;
I was one of the grabbers.” “You
were?” (Grasping the colonel’s b nd
warmly.) “So much the better ! Let
me congratulate you that a parsimoni
ous public could not frighten you out of
what was fair remuneration for you in
valuable services. lam glad that your
pecuniary circumstances ere so much
better than I supposed. Make it two
dollars !” And the colonel did. It was
the only clean thing left for him to do.