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VOL. Ml.
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Obituary notices, Tributes ot lit spool, and all
articles ot a personal cliaiack-r, chargetl for as
n lveriisemer.is.
For announcing candidates for ofilce, SIO.OO
poetical.
THE CAHriIT-SAGGBE
I’m a gey old ( ipe -bag ;-; r !
O! don’t you out ers . u,!?
’M ing the colored folks I swagger—
Down in • he ('•» on lauil.
Now I’ve goL no eibln •, on :
Ft br<* ; ns 1 does not brrg,
Bet 1 owns a big plan mio.u
All »n my e. rpe out.
(Juoitta l‘m a gey obi Orpet-begger!
O! ee;»* t y> u
Along ilie colored folk.-' I swagger—
Down in ihe cuuon laud.
In the North 1 was nobody -
O! don’t you tinders u id ?
N« w 1 <).-'gJ.« mv wine and toddy
K'ng of .he co.ion lend.
For ! • i.’vrs ,ne Mil sieve master --
lie calls me. .Seelewag.”
AN nile he vows, .’as, mul faster,
1 fills my c*rpci bag.
i ’m a gay old Oarpoi.-bagger, etc.
J’m the loyal Curpei bagger,
Who naes .he <’ol,ou land:
J\n a happy Scelawagger,
O ! can I you under•-. ..ml ?
For t'ongrcsH g«*es seme motn*n’
'this curst old Se. la wag,
And 1 p«\» ’em back f.»•• scornin’
My loyal cerpe bag.
I’m a gay o*u Cj-.rpet-bagger, etc.
But 1 hear a st inn a comin 7
So 111 tieve to close my ditty:
For we’ll all get hicks ior bnmmiti*
Abound this Ne.s’iviMe .
L le-ani .he nation‘h thornier;
We ' •• lost our game ot brag;
1 am oil with spoons and plunder,
All in my ca-pet b •.
Ini a ga'- old « b r-ger. elc.
):]{. [\\\)\n HIRED M\.
BY GRACE TERRY.
' r imp was leaning over tlic gar
don gale, In b.ovv knitted in anxious
thought, win i lie was accosted by a
stmdy, shabby dressed man, who said,
<h uwlingly:
“5a ay, ycou, dye want tu hire a
hand?”
“1 was wanting to hire a lad to do
chores about (lie bods*', but I supprse
you’d be asking a man’s wages?’
“Wal, el the work ain’t lew hard, J
ain’t no way s perlioTer ’bout that. Giev
me plenty to eat, an’ fair lreatme.it, an’
we won't quarrel ’liooiit the pay.”
Mr. Chump luirk-d scrutiiiiziiigly upon
the face ol the speaki r The lank, tow
colored hair was combed down into the
half closed sh <py I. eding eyes, anil ids
whole appearance was that of a simple
good nulured, though by no means 1 11-
looking fellow.
“\Vhat is your name ?’’
“Kbcn White.”
“Well Eben, go round to ti e kitchen
and get yonr supper, and to morrow i'll
set you to work."
Mr. Champ walked slowly into the
house, to where a spare, hard featured
woman was sitting by the window.
“Lid you hire him?”
“Yes.”
“1 only hope you won’t be sorry for it
then. If anything should happen just
remember ’twa’nt none of my doings.”
There ain’t no danger witii him ; lie
isn’t over bright and looks as if lie’d be
lieve most anything a body told him.
We’ve got to have someone and 1 think
its lucky we came across him. It
wouldn’t do to have any one around that’s
too noticing.”
“I should think not. As for me, I’m
sorry I ever got into such a scrape, i
never would, il’l’d thought the girl would
have lived till this lime. I’m sure sin
was crazy enough after she had that spell
of sickness.”
“Yes ; but she isn’t now, and hasn’t
been this six months. I’ve managed to
frighten her well, but she knows enough.
And I tell you what ’bs, Jane, if she gels
out into the world it’ll be a bad tiling loi
ns. We shall get into limbo, sure, be
6id< s losing the property.”
“I don’t know ’bout that, Josie nev
er was n * ways revengc’ul, ?and il we
let per go now, I don’t believe she’d bo
bard on us.”
“You t» k like » fool !’’ growled the
man. “I)ye lh.uk after all tire risk I’ve
I run I’m going |n give up the game now?
As for yon, you’d better not turn against
me, if you do you’d wish you’d never
been bom.”
’ I’ve no idea of turning against yon
Dan; we’re in (lie same float and will
have to s : nk or float together. Hut some
henv I c ni't Imlp feeling soriy f r the gii I.
You see 1 promised her father when lie
died—’’
‘O, bosh, don’t botlie’- me with yonr
womanish fauc es She's looking sort of
pale and weakly, and I shouldn't Wonder
it she didn’t last tluough the year, and
then she’d be out ol her troubles anil we
out of ours.’
After tea, Mr. Chump sauntered round
j the buck way where he found Ebon sil
< iog ns: i ide of a log whittling and wliisl
; ling •Yankee Doodle."
■ “Weil, Eben, dal lin y give you a good
■ supper ?”
“Ya as, mitilin’ square. I liain t seen
j noibin* since I left until like the dough
j nuts an’ juukiii pies that ni.mn used to
i make. An’ the slapjack with ’lassis on
’em, .Te-iu sa lem ! they'd go down a fel
ler’s tlooat as slick as greased lightnin’!’
'l’m sorry you don’t find the cooking
equal to marin’s,’ said Mr. Champ, with
j an amused look at the fellow’s simplici
ty, “but so long as you are faithful you ,
shall have the best die house affords,
you will sleep in the room 0.-er the shed,;
and I’ve come ;<> tell you that we have
a crazy daughter in the atUe id the main
building ami you tniisn’t lie frightened if;
you hear her cry out. She can’t get out
to hurt anyone.’’
“The r e never was no crazy' gal, nor
man either, that could skier me. My
gruii’thcr was crazy us a loon more’ll two
yea's a tore he died, but 1 wer’u’t none
aiea’o oil him.”
‘Well, you’d better not notice bet if
she speaks to you, it only makes her act
worse to an aer her.’
’No, ’taint never no k’nd id use notic
in’ what c.jzy.fulks s iys, there uiut nev
er no sense in I•.’
M l ’. Chump went away rippio ntly very
well satisfied with his new hired man.
The next morning Kbcn erne id upon
In’s duties of bringing wood and water
and ilo’ng odd jobs about toe house. He
was veiy good nainred, a.id, though evi
dently not ineb e-d to hurry himself, gave
very tab: satisfaction.
Often, as Eben sat In his room over
the shed, sobs nod moans reached him
fioni the wretched inmate of the attic,
twotdoiies above, and occasionally a
pale faco was pressed close to the iron
loirs of the window that looked down up
on linn
'Em net crazy ; let me out !’ often
fl ated down to him up ni the cool even
ing In ooze.
As the sweet, plaintive voice reached
E' en, a siiimge gleam shot into the
g. ' :d!y sleepy looking eyes. Hut he
paid no alieutioii toil; bending Ids mind
still more resolutely upon his work—and
curious work it was—the fashioning out
of rope a long, narrow net-work, resem
bling a ladder, and which he always
tin'iist under the bed whenever he heard
anyone approaching.
As he worked on it most at night, af
ter all the house was still, he made but
slow progress; but at last it was finish
ed, and stowed snugly' away under the
straw t ick of his bed.
The next night about twelve, curious
preparations were going on in Eben
White’s room First an old hair tiunk
was opened and a small hamper was
taken from it, containing a bottle of
wine and a f :\v biscuits, and which were
arranged i cally on a stand. Then a
lady's dress, hat, shawl boats and gloves
made their appearance, all of them plain
but of the jiices. material and were laid
: carefully on the bed.
Then Ebeu took the rope-ladder, and
securing one end ol it to the bed post,
ascended through the skylight to the
roof of the shed. He then looked cau
tiously a on and ; but perceiv'. g that the
coast was clear he attached the other
end of the ladder to his waist and began
to climb up to the atlic window, partly
by means of a vine that clambered over
the side of the house and when that fail
ed, as it did when still too far from the
window sill to reach it he worked his
way along with his jack-knife, which was
very' sharp and strong.
The assent was not only perilous, but
painful and his hands were torn and ,
bleeding as he paused for breath upon |
(lit le'oad ledge of solid brickwork be
neath the little window.
A white face and a pair of glittering
eyes looked out upon him.
‘l’m not crazy; let rie out !’ said the
same sweet, plaintive voice that hud so
often d'iveu sleep from his pillow.
II ( i ! .Josie,’ lie whispered, soothing
Ilv ; “it is I—Benjamin Vance. Don’t
make any noise !’
By the aid ol the tools that l.c had in
his pocket, the young man removed the
I heavy- banedsasli and having done tins,
! he lied the ladder securely to a stout
iron spike that projected from the inner
; wall. He then took up in his strong
; arms Josie’s light slender form who had
! been watching, him with breathless in—
tercst, ami directing her to cling closely
t to his neck so as to leave his hands a id
feet at liberty he began his slow descent
The rope swayeo ...nth him and his
i lovely burthen, but was too strong to
I break, auil he reached his room in safe
-1 He placed the half fainting girl upon
the bed, and gave lier some of the wine
that hie thoughtful tenderness hud pro
vided, and she scon reviled.
HSnE SHALL THE PRESS THE PEOPLE'S RIGHTS MAINTAIN, UNAWED BY PEAR AND UNBRIBED BY GAIN.
QUITMAN, GEO., SKI’TH.MBEK 25, 1808.
Josie looked up bewildered into the
face that was bending over her
‘A u:i speak and smile like Benjamin,
and yet ’
The young man tore from his lead the
low-colored wig, bringing to v ew the
bright elibsuut hair she so well remem
bered.
‘D -n't I look natural now ?’ he wliis- 1
peicik
only reply was to lay her cheek
loudly to his.
“My poor wronged dulling' said Hen
jumin, draw ing her eh sidy to him, 'they
tried to make me think you were dead.’
‘And they tried to make me think 1
was eva/.y, and that I was Malinda, my
step mother’s daughter that died. But
they could never frighten me into ac- j
knowdedgdng it. Ah, I have suffered so
much so very much .!'
‘I know it clear love ; but it is’over
now- No sorrow shall come lu-ur you
again from which 1 can shield you.’
It being now near n oruing they con j
sidered it impindeut to remain longer ;
and as soon as dosie was attTed in her
traveling suit Benjamin conducted her I
to the carriage that was waiting lor
them, and the rescued maiden was ear
lied rapid.v away from ;he scenes ol her
wrongs and snlTcrings.
Mr and Mrs. Chump being away, it
vas not until the evening of the follow
ing day that they discovered Josie’s
flight. In the midst of their alarm and
ennsiernat ion a stranger arrived who de
manded an immediate interview.
He regarded sieudy the guilty pair.
‘My name is Benjamin Vance, and I
have conn to demand in the name of my j
wee Josephine, the property left her by j
her lather Robert limit, and out of which)
you and her stepmother have defrauded I
her.’
Mr. (Tamp turned pale; but still tried
to brave it out
‘Josephine Hunt is dead, atid by the
to .lift of her father’s will in case she died
unmarried the property reverts to his
widow who is now my wife.’
‘Home, Mr. Champ, this won’t do. I’m
in oo mood to he trifhd with as you will
fiiul to your cost, if you attempt it. I
have Hiillificnt evidence at my command
lo omsiirn l»<nli yon and your wife to
t Ik* p(»ni;oii11 ary; hut on the pleadings ol
the penile oi ( | you have ko cruelly wron#
ed, I will let you escape hut only on eon
diiion that von make full restitution, and
then leave the country forever.*
Mi s. (lliainp di e\v near her husband,
with a while scared look.
‘Make terms with him, Dan, she whi.s
fO’.ll.
Mi * hump sullenly yield, and.
“I hope that you are now satisfied,’ he
said as Mr. Vance carefully exainied the
deeds, mortgages, &e , that he bunded
Lc him.
A rough twinkle came into Benjamin’s
eyes
’ ‘Yu as, I should say that things naoiv
were about as they’d ortor he!’
Mi. (Tamp at lirst looked astonished,
ami then, as there Hashed upon his mind
the knowledge of how and by whom he
had been out wilted, he act u illy foamed
with rage. And as soon as his unwel
come visitors hack was turned many
and fierce were the curses that he bestow
ed upon his hired man, Eben.
But they in no way alluded the pros
perity of Benjamin and Jose, as their
liappy after life testified.
ONLY 1 lllillllML
BY JIKI.BN J'oRRKST GRAVES.
The snow was falling like a myriad
flight of tiny, white winged birds, the
| December blast howled mournfully
through too twilight streets, when the
I lights were beginning to shine out here
I and there solitary beacons of fire, and
| Grace and Myra Payne were sitting be
| fore the grate in their cosey, well-used
s ttiiig ro un, talking.
Grace had been darning stockings a
piece of domestic linger-oruft not partic
ularly ornamental, but nevertheless most
essential, and Myra was dotting the
edge of a shirt collar with stitches like
seed pearls, bin it. was grown too dark
to work now, and they sat. in the ruddy
j shine Jof the grate lire, en joying the sea
son commonly known as blind man’s hol-
I iJ«y- .. f
‘Now, Grace, I’m sure you’ll think
better of it,’said Myra coaxingly.
‘Don’t think there’s the least prospect
in lito of any such tiling.’ returned
Grace.
Stay, though. Wo have not photo
graphed our heroines for the eye of the
rea ler’s fancy. Well, they w. re two
very pictty girls, although in somewhat
different styles. Myra, the elder by a
year, was tall and slender, with dark
languid'! eyes, an oval face, and jet black
hair slightly rippled, while Grace w’as
small and sprightly, rather inclined in be I
plump than otherwise, with big brown
eyes,| full of liquid laughter, a skin like
lose-colored'satin, and brown curls which
could no more have been coaxed to lie
j straight than so ‘many grape-vine ten
drils
‘You are really going to marry a com
mon mechanic !’ persisted Myra, remon
stratively.
i ‘ Well, 1 think he’s a rather uncommon
j < me-my self.’
‘But onr papa is a gentleman.’
‘Our pupa is a lawyer by profession,
Myra, but T don’t think he is any more
! of a gentlenr in than Waller G. nlis.’
I ‘Mechanics are not gentlemen !’
Acs, they are il they' behave them
selves. Now, look here, Myra,’ and t •
' hig brown eves became v< ry resolute, ‘J
am very glad that y.ni are engaged to ]
a A all street broker, who lives in a.
brown stone house, but I don’t think
that gives you the privilege ot crilicis
iog mv level!’
‘But lie is so poor, Grace.’
j ‘He has health and strength, and his
mvn strong right arm to help him.’
‘And you will have to work.’
‘Well wliat then ? My goodness gra
cions ! and Grace elevated two plump
little hands, ’wliat do you suppose these
were given to me for? To wear kid
gloves and diamond rings only, and to
gather roses? No, indeed ! 1 can find a
better use for them than that.’
‘Grace, yon are perfectly iticir.igi
hie !’ ”
A es, I am; so you may just as well
leave oil lecturing me,’ said Grace, sau
cily. ‘I plead guilty to all your accusa
tions. lam going to marry nothing but
a mechanic. 1 shall live in half a house;
I can’t go out in a carriage, nor give}
parties, and 1 think il very likely that 1 |
shall not unlreqnonlly wash dishes, sweep
rooms and iron my Imsduiid’s shirts.—
And through it all I expect to be very
happy.’
Myra sighed and abandoned the use
less argument. Wliat was to be done
with so very uinensonnblo a damsel as
this.
A bright little hearthstone—a kittle
singing on the hop; the crimson carpet,
not Brussels, nor velvet, but simple in
grain, and the plain, neat luruiture with
i Grace smiling at the ready spread table
j this was a pleasant home for Walter
I Genlis to come to, alter his day’s work
in the great machine shop was over.
‘Upon iiiy word,’ In: said, gpyly, ‘1
think we’er happier here than Myra, in
her hig house, with her parties and her
visiting list, anu her swarm of servants.
I)o you know, Grace, I almost felt at one
time that I was doing wrong in marry
iag you ?’
‘Wrong, Walter ?’
‘Myia seemed to think you were such
a victim.’
‘Do I look like a victim !’ demurely
asked Grace?
‘Why, no, 1 can’t sav I liiiuk you do,
but I wish 1 could have brought yon to
a house all of your own, my pet. Never
mind; some day you shall reign in a pal
ace win thy of you.’
’Nonsense, \V alter; could I he happier
anywhere than with you.’
‘Are you happy, love ?’
She rose from her seat and came over
to her husband's side, looking full into
his face with eyes so eloquent that all
the dictionaries in creation could not
have sp- ken more plainly.
Yes, he knew that she was happy.
Mrs. Linley, too, thought that she
was happy, and pillied “poor dear Gra
cie’ from the very bottom of her heart.—
No servants; no silver napkin rings; no
double damask table cloths with embroid
ered milligrams on them; no carriage;
no Wilton carpets nor broeatid curtains.
What would life be worth without these?
And then, too, she lived so outtandishly
i—actually dining in the middle of the
j day, and having—good fates ! pork and
cabbage occasionally and fried onions !
j Mrs, Unify was quite sure that she
; could not have existed under such a
| fearful concatenation of circumstances,
j 'Of course we must continue to Visit
! them,’ said Myra, iidiailing the Lubiii per
! fume from her Valenciennes edged pock
et handkerchief, ‘but really I am quite
I ashamed to have our carriage seen in
such a commonplace street.’
‘She’s your sister,’ said Mr. Linley,
‘and Genlis is a good fellow, after all.’
‘I know it, hut a common mechanic !’
And Myra took out her pearl tablets to
look over her visiting list.
Grace Genlis knew very well that Mr.
Guslavus Linley despised her and her
low estate, but Grace cared not two pins
lor that—why should she ? VV as she not
' liappy as Queen Victory’s self in her
snug little house, with love to brighten
. the low ceilings and beautify the maple
i wood furniture.
Grace is a pearl of great ; r o thought
! young husband, as he watched her at
i her thritty housewifery, ‘and some day
she shall shine in a proper sitting as well
j as Gustaves Linley’s conceited doll of a
! wife. Stic shall, or my name is not Wal
| ter Genlis !’
Mrs. Linley did not find herself entire-;
ly inconsolable when Walter Genlis ac }
cep ted an offer from a California firm to
come out ns head machinist, and her sis-;
ter went away.
‘lt’s ,just as well,’ thought Myra,‘for
she wanted to give a series of Germans
this winter, and I couldn’t have invited
them, and, of course, they would have
been mortally offended ! Now it’s all
light!’
And the years passed by, and Myra
l Linley ‘forgot’ to answer her sister’s let
i tors so often that, at lenglit, Grace left
off writing, and Mrs. Linley became a
j bright star in the world and
j enjoyed the false, artificial life as one en
i joys feverish excitement of any kind.
j O.io evening Mr. Linley came in late,
j but ho often did that. Myra glanced
; languidly up from a book she was skim-
I ining over, not because she enjoyed lead
ing, bat because it was a fashionable
j work, and she wanted to soy s-h ■ had
- read it—and noticed that his face was
| perturbed.
‘ What is the matter ?' she inquired, a
little startled by his look.
‘The matter,’ returned Gostevas, de-
liberately seating himself’ opposite her,
‘is that we are ruined !’
‘U hut do you mean ?’
‘Simply that we are penniless—beg
| gated—loi ven’t a cent in the world and
(debts enough to sink the Spanish Anna
da !’
j Myra looked at hint in blank dismay.
‘And what are we going' to do?’
‘Do? Why, do as other people do !'
savagely answered her husband. ‘Go
into the second sbtv of a tenement house j
and starve.’
Mrs. Linley fell into weak, hysterics
Her husband, not heeding her sal staring
moodily at the floor.
‘lt must be a horrible dream,’ groaned
Mvra; ‘it can’t be true !’
But, unfortunately, it was true, and in
something less than a week Mrs. Linley,
her husban.l, and her three children,
found themselves the inmates of a taw
dry, third rate hoarding'house, while
Gustavos vainly tried to obtain a situa
tion hero as clerk, and Myra cried
and scolded allermilely and wished so
many times a day that she were dead,
that Guslavus finally lost all patience,
and intimated, darkly, that ‘lie wished
so, too !’
And then Myra called him a ‘horrid
hrnle,’ and cried more persistently than
ever.
‘A carnage at the door, and to see me!
It can't be possible!’ said Mrs. Linlev,
peeping over the blinds of the window,
‘lt was Mrs. Guslavus Linley the la
dy asked for, ma’am- a bright, pleasant
spoken lady ns ever 1 seen,’ said the
maid ol all work who hail brought up (lie
message.
‘Tell her to come up here,’said Myra,
lucklessly, as she liurrievlly smoothed
down her neglected hair a ltd tw idled at
llie bullous of her faded silk wrapper.
‘Why, Grace Genlis ! it isn’t you ?’
It was Grace Genlis, nevertheless, in
a superb black silk, and precious India
shawl, and real diamonds in her ears, but
Grace Genlis all the sung:—eager, loving
and impulsive.
‘Wo heard about Gustavns’s failure,’
cried Grace, hugging her sister and
laughing and ery'ng qillecnativcly, ‘and
M alter Saiel we would come to New
York at once, and see wliat, we could do
lor you. We are rich people now, Wal
ter and I.’ said Grace with a spice of
innocent triumph, ‘arid he has concluded
to settle in Ne‘W Y ark, and Walter owns
the Genlis Iron Works, and wo should
like Gustaves for book-keeper, and of
Course, you’ll all come and live with ns
and that’s all, Walter, deal isn’t
il?’
‘All ! 1 should think it was,’ said Mr.
Genlis. who ha ! listened smilingly to
liis wile’s avalanche of words, ‘and a
pretty mess y. ti’ve tiiude of it. There,
Myra, slop crying - we’ll be all right u
gain, presently.’
‘lt's so—so trying,’ sobbed Mrs. Lin
ley, ‘tlint Grace should be rich, and
wear diamonds, and 1 ——’
‘Di 1 n’t 1 always tell yon I should put
my little wife in her right place one of
these days, although I was nothing hut a
mechanic?' demuned Walter. ‘Why,
here is Linley, I declare. Give usy.on
hand, old fellow I yon haven’t changed a
hit,’
And Gustavos Linley listened with
humble thankfulness to his brother-in
law’ll offer lo make him book-keeper to
lone of the branch establishments of Ids
i famous Iron wia ks.
; ‘But how did you strike this golden
vein ?’ inquired ho, when lie had accept
ed tin: position, with many thanks, and
; Myra had vvliisperingly commented on
j their being reduced to such an ignoble
j fate.
'lt was all through an invention of Will- j
tins,’said Grace gleefully ‘I always !
knew Walter would make his way in the I
world. But come —get your tilings on j
—l’m going to take you away with me !
Walter and Oastavus can wa’k, and
there is lots of room lor the ciiildern in }
the carriage with us ?’
Mrs Linley was thankful enough to.
leave the limits of this third rate boa id j
! ing house, ami return once more to a
! spacious brown stone front, where the
j halls were paved with mosaic marble, and
the ceilings frescoed in clove Color and
j gold. But it was none the less a sore
[come-down for her pride that the house
was not, her own, but that of the simple
j minded little sisier wh > had married 'a
Common mechanic !’
‘Who would have thought it, ten years
. ago !’ sighed Myra.
The young lady who burst into tears
has been put together again, and is now
wearing hoops to prevent a recurrence of
the accident.
Some men are so extravagant that il
they owned the solar system tlu-y would
cat the moon up into shillings and squaii
[ dor the proceeds in a week.
Ox a recent rainy day, a wag was j
heard to exclaim: ‘Well, my umbrella
is a regular Catholic !’ ‘How so ?’ Be
| cause it always keeps lent.
Love is better than a pair el spectacles
\ to make everything seem greater which
is seen it.
Don't despair. If you slip down just
! get up. A stout heart is as Mtrc to final
i ly weather the gale as a pretty is to girl
j bring down the man of her choice.
The pape;* containing muni’ line points
- the paper of uce Ues.
[*3.00 per Annum
NO. 33
IHIE CHILDREN'S U It 1 JS.VDE.
[n tile summer of 1213 :i () >y was no
ticed wandering from town to town in
Brunei'. His hand was never stretched
! ont lor aims, nor die voice subdued into
tin’ beggar's whine. Ho belonged not to
the tribe of vagrant students and still
less to that if the mountebank or the
picaroon. Neitherdid.*yc ■n ry either of
those universal passports— It)'.' palmers
sin IT or the glermnii’s cithara. Unlike
each ami nil of these, his mien was saint
Iv and his conduct i reproachable.—-
Wherever lie went he chanted the words
‘Lord Jesus give us back the Holy Cross!’
pausing only to indulge in fervent pray*
| er. In a little time he was universal y
revered as the messenger of Heaven,
and happy was that house esteemed
wherein he designed to take up his lodg
ing. But soon the alarm began to per
meate and deepen the awe with which
he was everywhere regarded. And tru
ly the effect of his example was appall
ing. All nt once the pale infatuation
seized on nil the hoys of the same age.
No sooner was his voice heard in any'
town or hamlet, than out they poured,
mustered in his track and accompanied
him blindly whithersoever it pleased hint
to direct his course. Bolts and bars
were useless to restrain him; tears and
prayers to turn them for their purpose.
They hastened to quit father, mother,
home everything that was dearest to fol
low this strange lender, and chant with
h : m, ‘Lord Jesus, give ns back the holy
Cross !’ They came to him by twenties,
bv hundreds, by thousands. Lvery day
adding to the throng until at length no
city would consent to receive them with
in its will s. Having gathered this great
host 1 ii.* directed its march towards the
shores of the Mediterancon. Himself
led the way reclining in a charriot lined
with clonks. After him pressed the
countless tlvong chanting ‘Lord Jesus,
give ns back the Holy Cross ’ And every
instant they trampled the weaker to
deatii ns they struggled for the place
nearer to their lender's ear for he among
them was envied exceedingly who could
touch Ids person or gather a thread hom
his robe. ' In the end the whole ot them
perished, on the hind or in the sea.
BOOT CULTURE IN ENGLAND.
A recent number of the Bucks county'
I (Penn) Intel'genccr contains a letter
from a IVo-isylvanlun, visiting in Lin
colnshire, England, in which he says r
"With ns, where Indian corn, thought
a tropica! plant, can be successfully
grown f tun Maine to Texas inclusive,
the turnip is of secondary importance
ivi i*st in Great Britan, and portions of
t c Continent it is a staple of the highest
value, the great meat-producing so id.
Its increased cnltuie, within a few
generations back, has added to the com
fits of the English artisans, increased’
11 11 • i•• pliyn'c.d sirfnglh and productive
power and added to die wealth of the na
tion. Some political economist in compu
ting the value of the turnip crop of great
Brittle, estimated it as equal to the in—
■crest on the funded debt of the country.
How little can that he understood by
an Anieritnn farmer, with Ins half ere
patch. Though mot crops are certainly ,of
■secondary value with us there can be nit
I doubt we should find our interest in
! giving them greater attention, if not for
fattening from hygienic motives.
“A seedsman in iiverp ml told mo that
he bad a standing o iler for 150 bushels
of turnip seed to go to Ireland, where it
was R'.inmd’y sown upon the binds and
| fed to the so ck of one man a’so that in
i the South of England he had a similar cusr
I turner so- 70 bushels. And the head of a
' seed establshment in Edinburge told me
that they sell annually 22,000 bushels of
j turnip seed ahum. Think of that, wlioi»
I there are 4,000 seed in a teaspoontull !
Madam, you said your son was a law
yer- has he much practice ?
‘Why yes, sir; he has a practice of
smoking cigars!’
How to make a rich jam—crowd twain
tv fashfotiably dressed ladies into oner
oinuibns
'All’s well that ends well.’ That's wiry
I girls with small feet are counted pretty.
Tt is decided that ships cannot be made
inf rubber, because they would rub ou-8
ttie lines of latituile antHongitiide,
Miss Blotter who teased her fat her f' r
a ivate.fal! received two dams instead.
»
Newly set trees maybe protected froin>
! the heat of summer hy r covering their
[ trunks with repos Hindu 1 of freshly cut
grass or clover. It is a good plan to
j moisten the wrapping occasionally if the
I weather is very dry'.
What would this world be without a
woman ? A perfect blank—like a*.sheet
of paper—not even ruled.
Woman with all her beauty and worth'
should remember that man was the chief
matter considered at the creation. She
was only a side issue#-
‘Corn liri ad?' said an Irish waiter, Sve.
hav’nt got it; an’ Isn’t corn bate ye
' mane V
‘I say, l'.it, what .arc you about—
| sweeping out the room V ‘.No,’ answers-
Pat, 'I am sweeping out. the dot ami
leal mg the room.’
