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YOL. II.
SANDERS VILLE, GEORGIA, SEPTEMBER 5, 1873.
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NO. 10.
HEDLOCK. JETHRO ABUSE. B. L. BODGEBS.
f ;v Medlock, ArSiiie & Rodgers.
fuE Herald is published in Sandersville,
every Friday morning. Subscription
V TWO COLLARS per annum.
L lvertisements inserted at the usual rates,
y i charge for publishing marriages or
tilths.
POETRY.
Baby’s Drawer*
There's a little drawer in my chamber,
Guarded with tender care,
W!iere the dainty clothes are lying
That ray darling shall never wear;
And there, while the hours are waning,
’Till the house all at rest,
I sit. and fancy' a baby'
Close to my aching breast.
yf v darling’s pretty white garments,
I wrought them while sitting apart,
While his mystic life was throbbing
Under my throbbing heart;
And often my happy dreaming
Breaks in a little song,
Like the murmur of birds at brooding,
When the days are warm and long.
I finished the dainty wardrobe,
And thedrawor was almost full
With robes of the finest muslin,
And robes of the whitest wool.
I folded them all together,
With a rose for every pair,
Smiling, and saying, “Gem fragrant,
Pit. for my prince to wear.”
AbV the radiant summer morning,
So full of a mother’s joy!
“Thank God! he is fair and perfect; .
My beautiful new-born boy.”
Lot him wear the pretty white garments
1 wrought while sitting apart,
Lay him, so sweet aad helpless,
there, close to my throbbing heart.
Many and many an evening
I sit since my bab.y came,
Say, “Whfttdo the angels call him?”
tor he died without a name;
Sit while the hours are waning
And the house is all at rest,
And fancy a baby nestling
Close to my aching breast.
SELECT MISCELLANY.
THE RIVALS ;
on
MABEL MOTJKTEORD’S PLOT.
BY ARTHUR L. MESERVE.
CHAPTER I.
SEA-NEST AAD ITS INMATES.
Nowhere along the rugged coast of
the Old Bay State was there to be
found a fairer scene than the one in
which our story opens.
A bold headland jutted out into
the sea, its rocky base washed by the
never-tiring tvaves that beat upon it.
A contant warfare was kept be
tween sea and land; a fight which
had been going on for years.
There were times when the water,
seemingly tired of the struggle, ap
peared to lay calm and quiet about
the rocks; but even then, one stand
ing on their summit, could hear a
deep, sullen murmur coming up from
the depths below, which told that it
remembered its old-time foe, and
was ready to commence the battle
anew at almost any moment.
From the summit of the headland
a beautiful view extended on either
side as far as the eye could reach. _
One way, the water outspread it
self to the far verge of the horizon.
There it seemed to mingle with the
sky itself. On the other, there was
a long stretch of meadow reaching
out to the distant hills, which seem
ed to mark the boundary of the
world in that direction. Between
the headland and the hills, the mead
ows were dotted with many a farm
house and cottage ; while here and
there, along the seashore, were a lit
tle nest of fishermen’s cabins, look
ing much like the very rocks among
which they were set down.
On the very highest point of the
headland stood an old stone man
sion. Like the cliffs about it, it had
done battle with the wind and storms,
which had left their marks on its
walls. Yet so firmly were they built,
that they had hurled back their as
saults with almost as good success
as the gray old cliffs themselves.
Sea-nest was the name the old
mansion went by through out-the
country-side. It was the name its
builder had given it, and long after
its founder was mouldering back to
dust.
Some of the farmers called it the
great house on the cliffs ; but with
the fishermen it was always Sea-
Nest when they sighted its roofs by
day, or saw the light shine out from
its windows when the night was
come, and the murmur- of the sea,
and the fast-gathering clouds told
that a tempest was nigh at hand.
Although the mansion looked
storm-beaten and rough without, all
was ease and comfort within; for
every luxury that w ealth could com
mand was lavished there with un
sparing hand by its occupants.
The Mountfords for generations
had been possessed of plenty of this
world’s goods, yet in other things
they had not been a fortunate race.
Few of the male members had
died quietly in their beds.
.The sea, as though jealous of their
endeavors to maintain a foothold on
the cliffs, with which they were ever
at war, had claimed their lives, one
after another, in forfeit, bringing
mourning, grief and despair within
the walls of the gray old mansion.
Still the family clung to Sea-Nest.
It seemed to be a sort of premoni
tion which held them there. Indeed,
there were none of the race who ev-
thought of leaving. A grave in the
sea had no more terror to them than
one made upon the land.
At tlie time our story opens only
two of the race made Sea-Nest their
home.
Harry Mountford, the owner, was
a man in the prime of life, he having
but just turned his thirtieth year.
So far as kindred was concerned,
he was almost alone in the world.
His father and mother were both
dead. The former the sea had claim
ed, and the latter, in her grief, had
soon followed him.to the land of the
unknown.
Only one, in whose veins ran the
same blood as in his own, made her
home beneath the roofs of Sea-Nest.
This was his cousin, Mabel Mount-
ford.
She was the daughter of his fath
er’s brother, and like himself, she
was all alone in the world.
Although past the first bloom of
womanhood, she still retained her
beauty to a great extent.
There were those who thought
that she had never been so brilliant
as she was now. Yet in spite of this,
she looked for wooers who would lay
their heart and fortune at her feet.
It was not because gentlemen
came not to Sea-Nest. At certain
seasons, gay parties came thither,
and the old mansion echoed with
glad voices.
Her home was here, for she had
no other spot to go to.
Her father had left her nothing,
and it was to her cousin that she wae
indebted for her daily bread.
Yet slie was welcome to it. He
regarded her as a sister, and she had
no reason to complain that he ever
treated her unkindly.
But this was not all that she de
sired. *
Her ambition was to wed with her
cousin, and so become in reality the
lady of Sea-Nest.
To accomplish this she directed
her every and utmost effort.
The time had been when it seem
ed that she might accomplish her
ends in this direction.
But this was before the coming of
Rachel Vane.
Almost from the very day this al
most childlike woman had set foot
within the mansion, she could see, or
fancied that she did, that the bear
ing of Harry had changed towards
her.
The love which she meant for her
self alone was being bestowed upon
this interloper.
The veryS thought maddened her
and set her brain on fire.
She should not triumph if it laid
within her power to prevent it.
There were no means at her com
mand that she would not use if all
others failed.
To be thwarted in the dearest
wishes of her heart she would not.
For years she had hoped for their
consummation, and now, when they
appeared so near at hand, to have
them slip from her grasp was more
than she could resignedly bear.
If he could not be hers, no one
else should call him by the endear
ing name of husband.
CHAPTER n.
AN ERRAND OF DANGER.
It was with such feelings as these
rankling in her bosom that she went
forth one day along the cliffs of the
seashore.
The sun was going down, and there
were signs of a coming storm.
The sky was of a dull leaden hue,
and the sea moaned among the rocks
as though it was trying to tell some
secret hid in its bosom, or complain
ing that it had got to renew the bat
tle with itg old enemy the wind.
Nature seemed to be in accord
with the feelings that filled her bos
om.
That afternoon Harry had gone
out alone in his boat, and she was
watching for his return.
She would see him alone for a lit
tle time, as she used to do before
her rival came.
Perhaps he might speak again
those words in her ear which had
been so dear to her.
Slowly she made her way down to
the little cove where he was wont to
keep his boat, and seating herself
on a fragment of a rock, she waited
for him.
The minutes lengthened into hours,
and still he came not.
The leaden hue of the sky grew
darker with the shadows of. the
coming night, and the murmurs of
the sea grew louder, while a fitful
gust of wind from off the water told
that the tempest was approaching.
Darker the shadows grew about
the spot, and at length she could see
but little ways about her.
Still she waited patiently for his
coming.
At length the dip of oars, mingled
with the murmur of the sea, fell up
on her listening ears.
He was coming at length.
A little later and his boat touched
the shore, and he sprang to land.
The flutter of her white garments i
caught his eye, and he sprang to- ]
wards her. !
“Rachel, my Rachel,” he said, as j
lie held out his arms as though to 1
clasp her in a warm embrace. “I;
knew that you would be here to meet ■
me.”
She did not undeceive him until
he had thrown his arms about her, ■
and imprinted a kiss upon her cheek.
“Your Rachel, is Mabel,” she said
quietly, although a tierce passion
raging in her breast.
Harry drew back abashed at the 1
mistake he lied made ; but in a mo- .
meat he had recovered his self-poss-,
ession. gfc ,
“Very weft, cousin, nb harm has |
been done,” he said. “I have "enough ;
more of the same kind left for j
Rachel.”
“Harry, do yon love this girl, this ,
Rachel Vane?” J
“Yes, Mabel,” he said, unhesita-.
tingly. j
“And do 3’ou mean to make her |
your wife?” •
“I do. She has promised to be !
mine. In a few weeks now, she is :
to be my wife. Mabel, I know that■
you will love her for my sake.”
It was well for Mabel that the •
darkness was so great that he could !
not read upon her face traces of the |
passion which filled her heart. Could 1
he but have done so, he would have j
shuddered thereat and recoiled from !
her as he would from the presence j
of an evil thing. In her breast
there was but one thought, one de
termination. He should not live to
possess Rachel. Rather than that,
the sea should engulf him as it had
so many of his race. The storm
was fast rising. There could be no
better time than the present to carry
out her plans.
The night would be pitchy dark,
could she but send him forth upon
the sea again, there would be but
little chance of his regaining the
land. The waves would claim him
for their own and Rachel Vane would
never possess him. Her plans were
laid on the instant.
“Harry, there is a storm coming,”
she said. “Do you think that it will
soon be here ?”
“Yey, Mabel. It will break be
fore an hour. Perhaps we had bet
ter hurry up to the house. Let me
secure the boat and we will be off.”
“Harry, can’t you go out to Dead
Morris’ Rock ? You remember the
pile of shells we left there upon the
sand ? If the storm rages high the
waves will sweep them away.”
“Then we will gather others, Ma
bel,” said Harry.
“But I want those; Harry. You
remember how beautiful they were.
Come, prove yourself a bra ve cavalier
and go for them now.”
“Certainly I will, Mabel, I guess
the darkness is not so great but what
I can steer among the rocks. But
do you hurry up to the house, the
storm will break, most likely, before I
get back. 1 ”
He sprang into the boat and put
off as he saidthis.
“May it do so in all its fury!” she
said to herself, as she watched him
disappearing in the darkness.
CHAPTER III.
WHAT THE SEA GAVE UP.
There was wild grief and dire fore
bodings at Sea-Nest through the
night and when the day dawned
again. The master had not returned,
and the wild tempest that raged
around awakened the wildest fears
that the mansion would never receive
him beneath its roof again.
No boat could live long on the
heaving, tumultuous sea. The great
waves leaped high on the rocks as
though they hoped to engulf them,
aud were hurled back again into the
seething main, only to renew the as
sault a minute after.
All throughthe night had they
watched for the return of Harry.
Lights were placed in all the seaward
windows in hopes that if he still
lived they would serve as a beacon
to him Mabel Mountford had ex
pressed as much concern as any. All
through the night she had been astir
with a feeling of joy and satisfaction
in her heart.
She felt that her plan had succeed
ed ; that Harry had perished on the
errand on which she had sent him.
Although lost to her, it was joy to
know that Rachel Vane did not pos
sess him. Sometimes the terrible
thought that she was a murderess
came to her with an almost over
whelming force, but it did not crush
her. None was possessed of her se
cret and it was safe. Even if they
knew that she had sent him forth on
the errand of danger no harm could
come to her. But none knew of this.
No one was aware that she had seen
him since morning when he had gone
forth.
Later in the day when the storm
had in a measure subsided, although
the sea was still raging in wild fury,
she donned her outer garments and
prepared to go forth on the cliffs.
It was a sort of strange fascina
tion that urged hei' to do so. She
half expected to see the pale face of
Harry down among the raving waves.
It was the spirit of evil perhaps,
which prompted her, before she set
out,to pay a visit to Rachel Vane. She
wanted to enjoy the triumph she felt
in robbing her of a lover.
She found her in a room alone, the
picture of distress and despair. She
was seated at a table, her elbows
resting thereon, and her head sup
ported by her hands. Her hair,
loosened from all confinement fell in
masses over her shoulders. Her face
was pale, her eyes red with weeping;
and the look of agony depicted up
on her countenance would almost
have moved a heart of stone. But
Mabel only experienced a sensation
of fierce joy at the sight of her rival’s
distress.
“Oh, Mabel, is there any news ?
Has anything been found ?” said
Rachel, in a piteous tone.
“Nothing,” she answered coldly.
“Nothing can be found until the
storm goes down.”
“But where are you going, Mabel?”
“Out upon the cliffs. WilTyougo
with me ?”
“I cannot. Oh, it seems as though
my. heart would break.”
“One would think from yonr man
ner, Rachel, that he was more than
a friend to you.”
“And he was and is, if he lives.
Mabel, we are engaged. In a few
weeks’ time we were to be married.”
She bowed her head again as she
spoke, and Mabel stood regarding
her coldly from the door.
“What do you mean by this state
ment, Rachel ? Do you think that
I will believe it ? It is me that he
would have wedded. It was arranged
long ago.”
Rachel looked up with surprise
upon her face.
“Do you expect me to believe this,
Mabel?” she said.
“You can do as you please, Miss
Vane, but allow me to say, it is little
confidence I place in the statement
you have just made. If you did it,
thinking that the Sea-Nest will longer
be your home, you are mistaken. If
Harry is dead, this place is mine,
as it would have been had he lived
and I become his wife.”
“Perhaps it is a little premature,
this arranging about the tenants of
Sea-Nest,” exclaimed a voice that
made them both start, and through
another door, with his drenched
clothes still about him, Hai’ry Mount
ford strode intC the room. “I have
escaped from the sea and am still
master here.”
With a glad cry Rachel sprang up
and the next moment was clasped in
his embrace.
“Mabel, cousin mine,” he said,
turning to the discomfited woman,
“your plans have failed you signally.
Thanks to my strong boat and the
kindly sheltering cliffs, I am alive.
I will not accuse you of wishing it
otherwise, although I have my own
thoughts on the subject. As I said
to you before, Rachel Vane is soon
to Le my wife. You can remain if
you will, but I think it would be best
for you to go away. Of course I
shall see that you are well provided
for. I would not have one of my
own race otherwise. After hearing
what I have from your lips, there is
only one- way in which I can look
upon you.”
Mabel did not stop to hear moi’e.
She fled from the room leaving the
lovers together. Her plot had failed
and all was lost. That day she left
Sea-Nest. Harry was as good as
his word, he provided liberally for
her, aud she came no more to mar
the happiness which came to him
and his loving,'faithful wife.
Be Economical.
Look most to your spending. No
matter what comes in, if more goes
out you will always be poor. The
art is not in making money, but in
keeping it. Little expenses, are like
mice in a barn, when they are many,
make great waste. Hair by hair,
heads get bald ; straw by straw the
thatch goes off the cottage, and drop
by drop the rain comes into the
chamber. A bari’el is soon empty,
if the tap leaks hut a drop a minute.
When you mean to save begin with
your mouth; many theives pass
down the red lane. The ale jug is
a great waste. In all other things
keep within compass. Never stretch
your legs further than your blankets
will reach, or you will soon be cold.
In clothes, choose suitable and last
ing stuff, and not tawdry fineries.
To be warm is the main thing never
inind the looks. A fool may make
money, but it needs a wise man to
spend it. Remember, it is easier to
build two chimneys than to keep
one going. If you give all to back
and board, there is nothing left for
the savings bank. Fare hard and
work hard while you are young, and
you will have a chance to rest when
you are old.
“I come to steal,” as the rat ob
served to the trap. “And I spring
to embrace you,” as the trap replied
to the rat.
Wanted to know.—How many
days in the March of intellect, the
length of the Rule of Three, and the
width of a broad hint.
Who is a Good Farmer.
Wide differences of opinion exist
upon the question which heads this
article. In the estimation of a majori
ty of men, however, he is considered
the best farmer who farms the most
land, raises the biggest crops, works
the greatest number of hands, runs
the most plows, etc. In our cotton
raising country he is beyond all doubt
the best farmer in popular esteem
who raises the greatest number of
bales, and largest number to the
hand. Mr., who, with a self-satis
fied lo^k, tells you, “I made 1000
bags last year with a hundred hands
—ten bags to the hand”—is set down
at once as a “fine farmer.” Mr, B.,
who made 1,100 bags with 99 hands,
throws A. into the shade, and is uni
versally spoken of as a “splendid
farmer ;” but Messrs. C. & D. come
along who “run eight big places,”
and made 3000 bags—-“eleven bags
to the full hand”—A. and B. sink in
to comparative insiguificanoe, and
the praises of C & D—“the most
successful planters in the South”—
“the biggest planters out”—on every
tongue, wherever their fame has
reached.
Nobody asks whether the “fine
farmer,” the “splendid farmer,” or
the “biggest planter out.” .have im
proved their lands by draining, ditch
ing, subsoiling and manuring; wheth
er they liav? ascertained the charac
ter and elements of their land, and
cropped and manured them with
reference to their capacity and re
quirements ;—whether they have
raised their own provisions, made
their manure, kept accurate accounts
of his farming operations, and have
a practical knowledge of the science
of farming. All that is asked, how
many bags have they raised ? Their
plantation may be spotted all over
with old fields, worn and torn to bar
renness ; their fields may be seamed
with yawning gullies; their houses,
barns and stables be as tumble down
and yawning as possible, without a
flower or a vegetable in the garden,
and all the appliances of them may
be as rude and unsightly as can ' be
imagined. The big cotton crops
blot out all other transgrssions.
This is all wrong. The good far
mer is he who raises big crops, and,
at the same time, improves his land;
who understands his business,attends
to it, and does it; whose stock are of
the best, and in the best condition ;
whose fences ai'e always in good
repair; whose farm buildings are
commodious and neat; whose dwell
ing has the appearance of the home
of civilized people; whose manure
heap is very large and increasing ;
whose corn-crib and smoke-house
are ever full of corn aud meat raised
by himself; who is surrounded by
all the necessaries and comforts of
life; who studies his profession, and
strives to reach the perfection of
farming economy, and knows at the
end of the year exactly what he has
made, ivhat he has expended, and
how he stands with the world. He
may not raise more than ten bags of
cotton or even less; he may be only
that despicable thing, a patch-far
mer” but in reality he is incalculably
a better farmer than the “fine.” the
“splendid,” and tlie “biggest planters
out,” and the time is rapidly aproach-
ing when to follow his improved sys
tem, emigrate or starve, will be the
only alternative left to those who
now despise agricultural improve
ment, boast of never reading an agri
cultural book or journal, and fancy
that what they don’t know is not
worth knowing, because they are do
ing exactly as “daddy done”—toting
corn in one end and a rock in the
other end of the sack, as the most
economical mode of balancing the
load.—Southern Farm and Home.
Health ot Farmers.
There are eight reasons why far
mers are more healthy than profes
sional men, viz:
1. They work more, and develop
all the muscles of the body.
2. They take their exercise in the
open air, and breathe a greater quan
tity of oxygen.
3. The food and drinks are more
commonly less adulterated, and' far
more simple.
4. They do not overwork their
brain as much as industrious pro
fessional men do.
5. They take their sleep common
ly during the hours of darkness, and
not try to turn night into day.
6. They are not so ambitious, and
do not wear themselves out so rapid
ly in the fierce contest of rivalry.
7. Their pleasures are simple, and
less exhausting than those indulged
in by people in the cities.
8. While there is no season of ab
solute idleness to an industrious and
frugal farmer, there are times which
he can employ in mental culture,
and in the employment of that calm
reflection which is so invigorating
to both mind and bodj, and to which
a merchant in a city is a total stran-
ger * , m i t
It is useless for physicians to ar
gue against short-sleeved dresses.
The Constitution of the United
States says “the right to bear arms”
shall not be interfered with.
A Little Sermofl.
At a railroad station, not long ago;
a beautiful lesson was taught i&-
such a_simple way that none could
forget it. It wae a Weak, snowy
day; the train was late, the ladies’
room was dark aud smoky; and tlie
dozen women, old and young, who
sat waiting there, all looked eross,
low-spirited, or stupid.
Just then a forlorn old woman,
shaking with the palsy, came in with
a basket of little wares for sale, and
we^t about mutely offering them to
the sisters. Nobody bought any
thing, and the poor old soul stood
blinking at the door a minute, as if
reluctant to go out into the bitter
storm again. She turned presently
and poked about the room, as if try
ing to find something; and then a
pale huly in black, who lay as if as
leep, on a sofa, opened her eyes, saw
the old woman, and instantly asked
in a kind tone, “Have you lost any
thing, ma’am ?”
“No, ma’am. I’m looking for the
heatin’ place, to have a warm afore
I go out ag’in. My eyes are poor,
and I don’t seem to find the stove
nowhere.”
“Here it is;” and the lady Jed her
to the stove, and drew up a chair for
her.
“Thankee,” said the old woman,
“this is comfortable. I’m ’most froze
to-day, bein’ lame and aching; and
not selling much, made me sort of
down-hearted.”
The lady smiled, and went to the
counter, bought a cup of tea and
some soft food, carried it herself to
the old woman, and said, as respect
fully and kindly as if the poor soul
had been dressed in silk and fur,
“Won’t you have a cup of hot tea?
it is very very comforting such a day
as this.’*
“Dear me! Do they give tea at
this station ?” cried the old lady in a
tone of surprise, th$ made a smile
go round tlie room, touching the
darkest face like a streak of sun
shine. “Well, now, this is just love
ly,” added the old lady, sipping away.
“That does warm my heart.”
While she refreshed herself, telling
her story meanwhile, the lady looked
over the poor little wares in the bas
ket, bought soap, pins, and shoe
strings, and cheered the old soul by
paying well for them.
As I watphed h»r doing this, I
thought what a sweet face she had,
though I had thought her rather
plain before. I felt ashamed of my
self that I had grimly shaken my
head whe^ the basket was offered to
me ; and as I saw a look of sympathy
and kindness come into the faces
around me, I did wish that I had
been the magician to oall it out. It
was only a kind word and a friendly
act; but somehow it brightened that
dingy room wonderfully. It changed
the faces of a dozen women; and I
think it touched a dozen hearts, for
I saw many eyes follow the plain,
pale lady, with sudden respect; and
when the old woman, with many
thanks, got up to go, several persons
beckoned to her, and bought some
thing, as if they wished to make up
for their neglect.
There were no gentlemen present
to he Impressed by the lady’s kind
act; so it was not done for effect;
and no possible reward could be re
ceived for it, except the thanks of a
poor old woman. But that simple
little charity was as good as a ser
mon; and I think each traveler went
on her way better for that half-hour
in the dreary station.—Exchange,
A schoolmaster hearing one of his
scholars read, the bqj', when he came
to the word ‘‘honor” pronounced it
full; the master told him it should
be pronounced without tlie H., as
thus, onor.
‘‘Very well, sir,” replied the lad,
“I will remember he tire future.”
“Ay.” said the master, “always
drop tne H.”
The next morning the master’s
tea with a hot muffin had been
brought to the desk; but the duties
of bis vocation made* him wait fill
it was cold; when, addressing the
same boy, he told hka to take it to
the fire and heat it.
“Yes sir,” replied the scholar, and
taking it to the fire, ate it. Pres
ently the master called fab his muf
fins.
“I ate it as you bad,e me,” sdld
the boy.
“Eat it, yon scoundrel ? I bade
you take it to the fire and heat it.”
“But, sir,” answered the.lad, “ves-
terday you told mo always to drop
the H.”
Handling the Wrong End of a
Snapping Turtle.
A man named* Gilsey, who, by
strict economy and. severe industry,
has succeeded in getting his family
a little place, freer of incumbrance;
was fishing in Still river, near the
Beaver Brook Mills, on Sunday af
ternoon; After sitting on the bank
for a couple of hours, without catch
ing anything, he was gratified to see,
on a flat stone in the water, a snap
ping turtle sunning itself. The catch
ing-hold end of the turtle was toward
him, and he thought he would cap
ture it; but while he was looking
for a place to stoop, the turtle grave
ly turned abound without his knowl
edge, and when he got in reaching
distance, and bent down to take
hold of what nature designed should
be taken hold of while handling a
snapping turtle, that sociable ani
mal just reached out and took hold
of Mr. Gilsey’s hand with a grasp
that leftjno doubt of its sincerity. The
shrieks of the unfortunate man
aroused some of his neighbors, but
when they arrived it was too late to
be of any benefit to him, or even to
themselves, for they just caught a
glimpse of a bare-headed man tear
ing over the hill, swinging a small
carpet-bag in one hand, and they at
once concluded it was a narrow es
cape from highway robbery. How
ever,; it was not a carpet-bag he was
swinging; it was that turtle, and it
‘Mnng to him until he reached the
Wliite stueet bridge, when it let go;
but the frightened man did not slack
en his gait until he got home. When
he reached the house the .ludicrous
ness of the affair burst upon him,
and when his wife looked at his pale
face and bare head, and dust-be-
gMDffed clothes, and asked what was
the matter, he said, “Nothing was
the matter, only he was afraid he
would be too late for church,” and
appeared to be much relieved to
find that he wasn’t.—Danbury Fetus.
How Jones was Persecuted.
Max Adeler thus traduces a meek,
inoffensive and modest class of men:
Jones told us that he was perse
cuted nearly to death some time ago
by a sewing-machine agent, who
wanted him to make a purchase.
Unable at last to endure the persist
ence of the man, Jones says he
bought a diving-bell, and went out
four hundred miles from land and
descended two miles into the ocean
to spend a few days in peace. He
had hardly touched bottom, when
he saw the sewing-machine man
coming down in diver’s armor, car
rying with him a slmttle-feed and
sixty strong testimonials to the mer
its of his button-hole attachment.
Jones informs us that he suddenly
rose to the surfaee and prepared to
sail home, but just as the ship’s
anchor was being hauled over the
side it fell and upset the cook’s ca
boose, scattering the live coals into
the powder magazine. This caused
a terrible explosion, and Mr. Jones
was blown four miles upw r ard in the
ail - . (This is Jones’ statement, re
member.) Just as he began to come
down, he met the sewing-machine
solicitor coming up, in a balloon,
with a bucketful of samples of the
lockstitch and a model of his patent
reversible liemmer. When Jones
fell he was picked up, and he sailed
.-straight for home. As the vessel
drew near the dock, Jones perceived
the agent standing on the wharf
waiting for him with a “noiseless but
tonhole attachment.” (We thought
all the buttonholes were necessarily
nofeeless; but Jones is responsible.)
Thereupon Jones hid himself in the
cabin, and instructed the captain to
say to the agent that he, Jones, had
died of yellow fever on the voyage.
When the sewing-machine man heard
of this he seized a copy of a certifi
cate from a clergyman’s wife, and
^then blew' out his brains with a pis
tol, evidently determined to follow
Jones into the next world, arid sell
him a machine at all hazards. We
give this for what it is worth. We
only know that Jones was educated
by his parents to believe that it is
wicked to tell a lie.
Every hqpr that a child lives a
quiet, tranquil, joyous life, of such
sort as kittens live on hearths, squir
rels in sunshine, is jest so much in
vestment in strength and steadi
ness, and growth of the nervous
system- Every hour that a child
lives a life of excited brain-working,
either in a school-room or in a ball
room, is just so ranch taken away
from the reserved force which ena
bles nerves to triumph through the
sorrows, through the labors, through
the diseases of its later life.
Thy neighbor as thy seif.
Music.—Music in a family is a
means of domestio cheerfulness. A
musical family, in spite of cares,
perplexities, or even trials, may be
always cheerful, cheerfulness in that
sense of the term which implies good
spirits, and in which needless de
pression of mind and morbid melan
choly are kept away. You can have
the sunshine of cheerfulness in your
house the most rainy or cheerless
wintry day that ever was, if you can
have music. Music provokes good
mature, manifested in thousand ways
and in the family sometimes, as we 1
as elsewhere, anything which
promote good nature is to be prize
Who can Set and scold when th
very air around is blended with so-
harmony?
A negro in Montgomery, Ala., wl
was brought up for contempt of eour
.said: “I dind’t mean to whistle
‘dat whistle went off dat time ha
cocked.” He was discharged.
Avoid evil’companions.