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VOL. XIV. J. F. SHIELDS —AT OM Stand On Railroad treet. Genuine Cuba Molasses, Magnolia Hams, White and Yellow Corn, Fresh Meal, Jriour of all Grades. Don’t fail to try our Patent Flour, Finest grade known to the trade. Gives every body satisfaction. Try it. Haiman Sweeps, Grain Cradles, Fine Lines of Hardware, Saddles. Harness, Plow- Bridles, Haines, etc. Wagons, one and two-horse, Buggies from $65 to Finest, Live-and-let-lfve Prices. STOVES. . Full Line—New Prices. Our Prices Drive out Compelition. Have sold One Hundred and Seventy-NinO Stoves from Nov. Ist to May Ist. Thanking my friends and the public for a generous patronage, I respectfully ask a bontinuance of the same, promising my best efforts tojjdeserve tho same. N. B.—Hides, liags and Wax taken in exchange for goods. J. F. HIIIKLD^, Thomson, Ga., May 9, 1885. ' - Great Inducements. .The Cash Jobbing House Are offering the Greatest Inducements ever known in m GOODS, NOTIONS, SHOES, HITS, &C. —— If Low Prices will sell the goods we mean to sell them. The following facts will enable everybody to see why it is wo can sell goods so much cheaper than they c&u be bought elsewhere: First.—Our goods are bought for cash. Second.—They arc sold for cash. Third.---Our expenses are com paratively light. Therefore we can sell any gooffw in our line at just what they cost, oilier mer chants who buy on long time and are burdened with expenses. Below we will mention only a few of the many bargaius we are now offering : Priuted Lawns from Ito 2V cents per yard. Best Union Lawns : and Pique* at sc, worth 6| and 7i cents. Calicoes in endless varieties j Jrom 3to 5 cen s per yard, for best quality'. Pleached Homespun from 4$ U P to 8 cents, ior the best. Pants Goods from 6 cents per yard up Ladies, Misses and Gerls Hose at 5, 10, la end 25 cents, worth 10, la, 25 and 35 cents We have a large and well selected stock ofWhite Victoria Lawns, India Muslins, Checked Muslins, Embroderios, Irish and Tarchon Laces at prices that defy competition by any' house in the South. Six quarter Oil Cloth at 15 cents per yard. * DRESS GOODS! * Our stock in this line very complete, consisting of Black and Col ored JSunticgs, Nun’s Veiling, Kber Cloth, Black Sil s &c. It will be lo tho interest of evory one to examino these goods before purchasing. Yo r can buy B tiling at 6i cents, worth 10 couts. Figured Press Goods t 6s, 7£ and 10 cents per yard, worth 10, 12J, 15 and 20 cents. * Straw Hats! From 6 cents up. Nobby Hats for Boys and Men at 10, 15, 25c. Shoes, Shoes. Ladies Shoes and Slippers at any price from 25 cents up. Children and Misses Shoes at prices to suit anybody'. Crockery, Glassware and Hardware at Cost. We haven t the space to mention prices, as we would Uke, but o rdially invito every one to come und examine onr stock. The above figures will no doubt astonish you. Therefore we ask you to come and see that the prices are correct and be convinced that we mean just what we say, Don’t forget the place, The Cash Jobbing Cos, J. 3D. IMLA-'Z", IMlansig-er. THOMSON, GA, " HARD SENSE! ■ —--—— " It in a fact generally known that J. F. Shield* k Cos., have the largest stock of Dry Goode, Shoes and Notion* in Thomson. It ie ah known that the more you buy of an article the less you have to pay for it in proportion. It therefore follows that having the largest stock our goods did not coat us as much in proportion as it cost others who buy less. It also follows that we can and should sell for less than others and yet make a fair profit. Ju&t What We Propose to Bo We have just received a beautiful line of Ladies Dress Goods, such as Worsteds, Brocades. Suitings, Kyber Cloths, Nun’s Veilings, Mohair, also tho largest and most Stylish line of Ginghams ever seon here. A Urge lot of Muslins and Lawus to suit taste and purse. White and Colored Laces, Silk and Satin Trimmings to match Dress Goods. Evitt 4 Brothers Ladies Fine Shoes a ipecialty, Evitt A Brother* Ladies Fine Slip pers, Opera, Newport, Oxfords and San !als, and other shoes in every style and quality. We have something new and beautiful in Colored Mitchelino Counterpanes that will be all the fashion. We have a large line of Gentleman's Clothing. Very Low, for cash. Also fine Shoes high cat, and low quartered. A large assortment of Misses’, Boy’s and Men's Hats, We have the best Sewing Machine made, never had a complaint, warranted to’ please. We will sell them on the installment plan to suit our customers. J. F. Shield!* Sc Co 5 No 3, Brick Bow, Thomson, Ga THOMSON, GEOBGIA, WKI)N KSHAV, MAY 371, 1885~ Mother’s Friend ! A PRECIOUS BOON TO WOMAN, Words of Bruise. I most o irn entreat ivery female ex peeling to be confined to use Mothers’ Re liet. Coupled with this entreaty I will add that during a long obstetrical practice- j forty four yen s, I have never known it to ! fail to produce a tafe and quick delivery. ! H J. Homes, M. D. A lnav from one of the counties of Mid dle Georgia who ha- been acting midwife for many years, writes: “I have disposed of all the Mothers’ Friend you sent me, and lam delightful with it. In every instance where it lms been used, its effects have been all that I could ask. I it a great blessing.” A gentleman writes: “My wife used your Mothere’ Friend at hex fourth confine ment, and her testimony is that she passed through it with one half tho suffering of either of her former confinements, and re* favored from its effects in much less time. She also recommended it to a lady friend who was about to be confined for the first time, and she says : “I havo never seen auy one pass through this great trial with so much ease aud so little sufferings.” A QUICK AND EASY TIME. A distinguished physician of Mississippi writes: I)very one expecting to bo con fined should ÜbC tho Mothers’ Frioud, foi during a long obstetric practice I have nev er known it to fail to produce a quick and safe delivery. This remedy is ouo about which we can not publish certificates, but it is a most wonderful liniment, to bo used after tho first two or three months. Send for our treatise on the Health and Happiness of Woman, mailed free, which give* all particulars. The Bradfield Regulator Cos., Box Atlanta, Ga. /Sgrißlw ['- i Will purify the BLOOD, retru- Lite III.* U VFR .111.1 KIDNEYS, 1 1 ‘tif YOUTlt.^ - 1 -r-—* sDuulh-s llrulu I’owt r. i LADSES ti u\ i.i DR. IIAKTER’H IKON TONIO u af.< nod Ii prcHy . ur.. (. Ivr ■: i rt-’.ir, healthy cottipk'Xhiii. l'r< ijtn ,iL !t!ti-ni|iK ul IjOlin* ri* IHllff only add I*. ( i* * iM.iHibrli v cl|lm original. 1) uolcxpuri* UJi.’M! .'Vi 111. OhICUNAI. AM> In -T. fl • i .. Mo., lor onr “DREAM BOOK. ■ i.ll ul biiuiigu bud Uttrful mloi mnUim, Irmi.^ HOME COUNCILr^ We tnko pleasure in calling the attention of mothers to x home cure for all discuHCK of the Stomach and Bowels, an odicino so long needed to carry children wifely through tho critical stage of TEETHING. PITTS’ CARMINATIVE, Is an incalculable blessing to mother and child. It is an instant relief to colic of in fants. a disease with which infants suffer so much Hit* fir. t four months of their life. It gives sweet, rest to tho sick and fretful chihl. ft strengthens and builds up the weak, gives appetite und flesh to the puny, corrects drain from tho bowels, cures Diarrhoea and Dysentery. A panacea for children. Try one bottle. It coat* only TWENTY-FIVE CENTS A BOTTLE. READ Ff R herein is infermution thnt may save you many dollars I want to tell the read ers of this valuable paper why I can afford to sell my goods no very cheap for cash. While other dealers depend upon a eiw>h trade fo their existence, Ido not. My in tilhai busnoss nets mo such a profit that should i fail to make a r,ingle sale for cash during the year. J would come out with a handsome profit. Hence you see why T can afford to wel for a profit that would ruin any cush deller. Another im portant reason is Hiatal buy only such goods as 1 can sell reqfi , thus avoiding h constantly increasing ilyad Htock whica must be worked off ata deetual loss. Then again I have not l.an a depots crowded for the last three and the ur months, with storage arid iuteres or fog up more than a good profit. Imb eaiii.large and expen sive iispl iy of rtn tke no goods and you do not have to pay for my carrying such a stock Please Consider how much you contribute, towards paying ioi such elegant and costly display, I make no unnecessary expenses and am detcr mjned to sell lower than any house can. Tn other words I ana going to sell whether f make any profit or not. In addition to a full line of furnituio I sell CLOCKS, BICXUitES, WINDOW SB AD EH, COOKING STOVES, Ac., and manufacture all kinds of MATTRESSES. Orders by mail attended to. Coffins ami Biiik! Cases Fifiiiislieii at LOWEST PRICES L. F. PADGETT, 1112 BROADST’BEE. AUGUSTA, GA ?o feafo GOOD HEALTH tl.o T.TVEU tnw;* fee Urpt t„ orW. S^WS mmowm DR. SANFORD’S LI/FR INVICORATOR Juxfc wbat ita name implies a Vejretabw Wvoj Medicine.n4 reKnltinc fromadc-anßcd '*r torpid condition of the Liver: nuch als*.!iottHneM Cont jvcnesß, Jntindice. Dyspepsia, Mxlarm, Hlck- Ilcadftche. Rheumatism, etc. An Invaluable Fam ily Modic.me. For full infoitn.v, ion Pend voitr ud drrne on a postal c;rd for li/1 pave book n tb® s l.iver and it* Di*/* a -eV* to DR. bXSkOhu, 24 Duarte Btreefc, ifrw York. i*CGP.iT ni;.L itklAj 100 ITS UirU.T.‘Tlo3l. - THE GOLDEN liDI. There is many a rose in tliJ ioad of life, If we only would Rtop toy.alee it; And many a tone from thewi tter land, If the querulous heart make it; To the sunny soul that is ff 11 of hope, And those beautiful trusl* ae’or faileth, Tho grass is green and |ho floweis are bright, l Though ‘he winter storai pMvaileth. There is many a gem in thd path of life, Which wo pass in our idUi-olensuro, That is richer far than the I veled crown, Or the miser’s hoarded tv#*sure ; It may be the love of a littll child, Or a mother’s prayer to I*>. >veu, Or only a beggars grateful fh i*ks For a cup of water given.; Better to weave in the web of life A bright and golden filliug. And to do God’s will with a rgaily heart, Ami hands that are ready Z&? .villiug. Than to snap the delicate, minute threads Of our curious lives usunder, Aud then blame heaven for tr ogled ends, And sit and grieve and wonder Dark Days. BY HUGH OONWAY, Author of “Called Buck.” CHAT I KK XT. SPECIAL PI.LADING. it was over! She knew! The hope which* may have buoyed my spirits, that I’hilippu’s agitation at learning of Sir Mervyn For rand’s doatli was hut duo to tho fact that ouce she loved the man entirely vanished. I could see no loop-hole of escape, no possi bility of persuading her that she was fancy ing horrors which had never taken pine *. Moreover, although 1 would have given my lib' to have saved her from the knowledge of this thing, I could not meet the eyes of her I loved, and lie to her. I did Indeed, if but for the sake of gain ing time, attempt to stammer out some evasive answer; but she interrupted me be fore I had spoken five words. “Why do l ask?” she echoed. ‘‘l knew it all—all-all I In dreams it. lus come lo me —tho whitened road —the du’ldead face tile whirling Hiiow! In dreams I have stood over him, and said to myself, ‘Jle is dead 1’ Rut, Basil, my love, my husband, 1 thought it was hut a dream. 1 drove it away. I said, ‘lt must he a dream. I lmt and Idm, and so I dreamed that I killed him.’ Basil, dearest Basil, tell me, if you can, that I dreamed It!” Her voice sank into accents of piteous en treaty. Who looked at me yearningly. “Dearest, it must have been a dream,” 1 said. She threw out her arms wildly. "No, no l It was no dream. Even now 1 can see my self standing in the night over that motion less form. lean feel the cold air on my check'. 1. can see myself fly iiig through the snow. Basil, I hated that mail, and 1 killed him!” The tears were sir 'amlngdown my cheeks. I seized her hands, ar.il stibve to draw her lo me. She tom herself uny grasp,and throwing luus'Mf wildly on Bui bed. broke into a pnroxvmi of sobs. As \ approached her she turned her head from me. “I killed him! killed him I”shewhispered in awe-slun k tones. “Oh, that fearful night! J.l has haunted mo ever since. I knew not why. Now 1 know! He wronged me, aud I killed him! killed him !” I placed my nrm ar- und her neck, and my cheek against limv. As she IVIt my touch she started up wildly. “No, no!” she cried. “Touch me not! Shun me I S irink from mo! Basil, do you hear? Do you understand? 1 have murder ed a man J” Dmm more she threw herself on the bed, her whole traino quivering with anruish. “A shamed a ruined woman !” she mut tered. “A villain’s forsaken toy, and now n murderess! You havo chosen your wife well, Basil!” “Swoeted. I love you,” I whispered. *‘L *ve in •! H>w can you lov ■ me? Such lov is not Indy. If you love me, aid me. to die, Basil! Dive me something that will kill me! Why did you save my life?” “B cause I loved you then, as 1 love you now.” Sim was silent, and 1 hoped was growing calmer. I was hut waiting for the first shock of her newly-born knowledge to pass away, in order to reason with her, and show her that by every moral law she was guilt less of the fearful crime. .Suddenly site turned to me. "How did I kill him?” she said, with a shudder. “D ‘.'treat, rest. We will talk again pres ently.” "How did I kill him?” she repeated with vehemence. "lie was found shot through the heart,” I answered, reluctantly. "Shot tliroudi his heart—his wicked heart! Shot by me! How could J have shot him? With wiial? Basil, tell me all, or I shall go inad! I wiil not have the smallest thing concealed. 1 will know all!” "He was shot with a pistol.” "A pistol! a pistol! iloiv did T come by it? Where is it?” "L threw It away.” "You? Then you knew!” I bowed my head, i felt that concealment was useless. Sim must know all. 1 told her everything. I told her how she had promised to come for me; how, as she did not keep that promise, I went in search of her. I told her how site had swept past me in the snow-storm; howl had overtaken her. I repeated her wild words, and told her how the fat and weapon had fallen at my feet, and how I had, oil the Impulse of the moment, hurled it away into the night; how Vie had broken away from me, and lied down ti c loiK’ly road; how, excited and ter rified by her words, 1 had gone oil to learn :heir meaning; how I had found the body of Sir Mervyn Frrand; without thought of concealing the deed, I had laid the dead man by the roadside; howl had rushed :iorue, and found her, Philippa,-waiting for me. and in the full h ight of temporary in b mity. I told her all this, and I swore that from the moment I discovered that her senses had gone astray I held her, although she had done so dreadful 1 a deed, as inno cent of crime as when she slept, a babe, on her mother’s breast. She listened to m ; with fixed dilated eyes. She interrupted in •. nether byword ncr ges ture; but when I had finished speaking she covered her face with her hands, and great tears trickled through her fingers. "No hope! No hope!” she eri ’d. “Oh, Basil, I dared to hope that something you would tell me would show me it was not my hand which did this thing! My love, my own love, w * have been so happy while I could persuade myself all this was a dream! We shall be happy no more, Basil!” Although she still shrunk from me, by force I drew her to me.' and laid that poor head on my should* r. I strokeiJThe smooth black silky hair, X kissed the white forehead, and used every endearing and soothing ex pression that love such as mine c ud sug gest. 11l vain! Tin mom mil T loosened my hold inv wife fled from my side. "Basil,” she cried, "you knew It! You knew the blood of a man was on my hands! Again I gfiysriefa love iffnot holy!” - Dearest, again £ tell you that in my eyes —if the truth were known, liftfioeyes of all —you are Innocent as a babe.” .She shook her head* hop losslj-. I saw that not.ling at present could move, her. j Perhaps it was more than I had a right to i expect. So for the time I g ve up arguing. * I beuted in r for mv fake to retire to rest. I gave her a soothing draught, i sat oy her for hours, and hehljier hand, until at last] her eyelids fell, aud, worn out by grief, she : slept. | Oi). how right l had been in choosing j flight 1 Although a cursed chance had re vealed what l fondly hoped would be for ever buried in oblivion, how right 1 had been! Had the hands of Justice grasped my sweet wife, although she ’might no doubt have been found guiltless, the trial, the ex posure, would have killed her. Thank i heaven, she was safe, and amenable only to ’ the tr bunal of her own sensitive consci ‘nee! When I heard her breathing grow regular, aud knew that she was in a deep sleep, I pressed my lips gently to her fair cheek, and left her. 1 went m search of my moth er, ami made the best rale I could think of to account for Philippa’s indisposition. I forced myself to wear a smiling face, and to listen with a show of interest to the account my mother gave me of certain difficulties which had during my absence arisen with some of the native servants. But there was nothing which could really interest me when I thought of my poor love lying there sleeping, to wake, alas! to sorrow and re morse. No wonder that, as soon as I had! spent with my mother the smallest portion of time which filial duty and gratitude ex acted, 1 Hew back to Philippa’s bedside. 1 watched beside her until she awoke —un- til her splendid dark eyes unveiled them selves. 1 leaned over and kissed her passion ately. Between sleeping and waking, while consciousness was yet in abeyance, she re turned my caresses. Then came back mem ory and its terrors. "Leave me,” she said; “I am a murder ess 1” One *morel denied it; once more I told her she was innocent. My only hope was, that by continued argument. 1 might, in time ease her mind. She listened almost apa thetically. 1 grew eloquent ami passionat e. Was l not pleading for my own sake as well as Iters? If I could but persuade her she was unaccountable for what she had done, some remnant of the happiness which a few days ago 1 had promised myself might even now be left. “Basil,” she whispered, "1 havo been dreaming horrible things. Will they try me —and hang me?” "We are in Spain, dearest. Even if you were guilty, the English law could not reach you.” She started. “And it was for this you hur ried to Spain? To save me from a felon’s death?” “To save you from vvlmt, in your state at the time, you could not bear. Isay again you are innocent, but 1 dare not risk the trial.” She was silent for some minutes; thensho si.”!..'-. “I am proud, passionate, wicked,” she said; "but I could never have meant to do this. I was mad! I must have been mad! Basil, you could tell them 1 was m id. They would believe you and forgive me.” She looked at me imploringly. "I could stand up,” 1 said, "and state on oath that you were at the time In a raging delirium. 1 could pledge my professional reputation that your actions were the result of madness. Fear nothing on that score, my wife.” 1 spoke boldly; but as 1 spoke a thought shot through me a thought which blanched m cheek and brought the beads of perspira tion to my brow, f km‘w woHgh o! law to be aware that a husband could not in a criminal case give evidence for or against his wife. Mv marriage with Philippa had deprived her of the benefit of my testimony as to her insanity. I trembled like a leaf as I pictured what might happen in the event of her being tried for the murder of Sir M< rvyn Ferraml. T’bo very nurses had but seen her sane. No one but myself ami per haps my servant had seen her in her mad ness. My dem y was such that 1 was bound to leave tin* room, in order to recover my pres ence of mud. Again mid again 1 thank' and heaven that \ve were on foreign soil. The thought that my unreasoning love might have destroyed her 1 loved was almost more tluiu 1 could bear. I fancy I have lingered long enough over that terrible time, when my wife first learn ed that the dream which had haunted her was reality -that her hand had unknowing ly avenged her supnosed and profiled Dated wrong. L t me but say that the mental anguish into which the knowledge plunged her was not unattended by physical evil. In fact, for many days my poor girl was ill, v.-ry ill. My mother and 1 nursed her with every care, and by and by youth and a splendid constitution reasserted themselves, and, a shadow of her former self, she was able Io leave her bed. Mynnther was ten derness itself toiler daughter. She knew nothing of the true cause of her illness; in deed, she blamed me roundly for pot having Ink-n proper care of my beautiful bride, and vowed laughingly that for the future nothing should Induce her to trust Philippa out of sight. Now that Philippa knew all she had done, I thought it better to toll her that, although he had no intention of so doin'/, S.r Mervyn Ferraml, in causing a mock marriage to b ■ celebrated, bad hy a strange chance really made her his wife. This gave her little com fort. "It. makes my crime the greater,” she said, bitterly. "1 have killed my husband instead of my seducer! 1 am not fit to live!” Weeks went by. PhiHppa gradually grew stronger, and, what was even more a cause of joy to me, calmer and more reasonable on acerlainsubj et. With all the power I could bring to bear, Iliad never ceased to impress upon her that morally she was in nocent, and I believed my words were bear ing fruit. Her fits of. mental anguish and self-reproach grew of less frequent occur rence. Bhe did not, whenever we were alone, continually harp upon her crime. Calm seemed to settle upon us once more, and I ventured to hop • that the great physi cian, Tme, would one day bring to my wife’s heart something that might be called s .rrowful happiness; but 1 knew i must wait years and years f r this. She was changed, greatly changed. Her lil>s seldom smiled; her eyes never bright ened, unless When she saw me drawing near. She .scented older and graver. But I knew, in spit; of a PI, she loved me with a death less love. Although at last Wo had ceased to discuss the sorrow of our life, 1 suspected it was seldom' absent front her mind. Sometimes ns I lay beside her f heard her moaning and talking In her troubled dreams, and too well I knew the cans '. As my arm stole round her, and:assured her of the safety and cer tainty of my great love, In my heart I cursed the dead man whose evil deed had brought such lasting woe on the fair head pillowed on my bosom. All me! what life might have been for us two, now that IbVe reigned be tween us! O ce—it was shortly after Philippa began to creep, a weak invalid, about the fragrant patio -she said to me, with evident mean ing in her voice. * "Basil, do you see the London papers?” "Sometimes—not always. I have almost forgotten England.” "PromL.se me you will see them every day.” "i will, if you wish; but Miy?” Her voice sank. "Can you not guess? Basil, listen, lliavc consented to be guided by you. lam pl ay ing that tiic day may coma when I shall think as you think. But what if an Inno cent person were rCctred of tho crime I have committed? Then (here is but one course; you could urge nothing against it. Promise me you will see the paper every day as sooli'dk It Reaches here. I shall have no peace unless you do.” I promised fearlessly. Justice does some times make mistak s, but not suc‘i a mis take ab the one hinted at by Philippa. No; Dir Mervyn j? errand's aoatn was a mystery never to be solved. So, to set my poor wife at case on the matter, 1 wrote and ordered that the Times should be posted to mo every day. [7b be Continued .] Tho Penalt y of Skepticism. “Como mighty nigh killin’ a fine buck dia mawninV” said an old negro. “Cornin’ long through the woods an’ or ole buck ho jump up, an’ bookerty, bookerty, he runs oft* a few yards an’ stop still. Come in ono or shootin’ him, satu” “Why didn’t you shoot?” “Didn’ hub my gun wid mo, sah.” “Then how did you come in ono of shooting him?”. “ ’Case, sah, I como in ono o’ taking my gun wid mo.” “Why didn’t yon take your gun?” “Didn’ hub none, sah.’ 1 * “You are an old fool.” “Look heali, doan ’buso or man dat way when yor ain’ got nocause. I ain’t got no gun,for a feller dat Iwuz orbout tor buy ono frum, axed mo jes’ SI mo’ii I could pay. So, I como in one o’ gittin’ do gun. If I had er got it I would er tuk it Tong wid me, an’ of I’der had it I could or shot do buck easy, sah. So doan come ’roun’ busin’ er man when do facks is all orgin yer. J hub knowod folks to fetch trouble on dar ’selves dat way. Er pusson ought er ho keerful in dis heali worl* o’ sci ence an’ speckcrlation. Goodmawuin’, sah. Since yer’s acted dis way, I wouldenter gin yer none o’ do moat of I had or killed it. ’Fore yer talked dat way L woulder made yer present o’ some o’ do buck. See vvhut yer got by it, sah.” —'Texas Siftings, Gould’o Precautions. It is rat her remarkable,but it is true, that Jav Gould does not employ an amanuensis. Ho writes all his own letters. The word “all” does not sig nify "many.” for Gould replies to very few letters, and the communicationsJio does write are brief, lie is always in a hurry when ho writes, and it seems as if his pen could not travel fast enough to suit him. Gould puts the little he has to say in as few words as possible, and his pen races over the paper like a steeplechaser in tracing out tho charac ters. Morosini o ous all of Gould’s letters and throws away all that do not actually require to be read by Gould or replied to by him. Gould would not have tlmo to look at tho tape once a month if he read and answered all the loiters that came to him. People ad dress him oh nil sorts or subjects, but a good share of them want to know how they can make money. Morosini drops the messages containing the solicitous inquiries into the waste-basket. Gould is much like tho Czar of Russia, who flics food and mysterious packages on liis underlings to see if they survive them. If Morosini is not poisoned or blown tip Gould will risk taking things sen bio Id m. But the w'dy lurtiun, ii lie Jhas auy suspicions of a package, will send a clerk out in the hall to open it near Russell Sage’s door. If the boy comes back whole Morosini will go through the contents without a tremor. “Falsum in Omnibus.” Young Lawbricf was in a confidential mood, lie was getting on famously well, had been taKeu into partnership with a reliable firm, and was doing the “junior” drudgery under the impres sion that lie really was a good deal of a lawyer for a young one. “Yes, I’m getting on nicely,” he said to a friend. “I’mahout ready to settle down into a married man with fixed habits et ux.” “Ft ux?” musingly inquired his friend. “Who is to be the delightful et ux?” “Oh, I haven’t got so far as that yet. I suppose there are young ladies will ing to make the sacrifice.” “What’s the matter with the senior pard V daughter?” “Very agreeable; decidedly pretty, all l)iit her teeth -they are false.” “What’s that? False teeth are the rule nowadays,” “Falsuin in uno, falsum in omnibus.” —Hartford Tost, The Oominfi Goats. For full dress the regular “swallow tail” has, of course, the lead, but wo are pleased to note that great liberties are being taken with this sedate, time and usher-honored garment. Each of our leading houses has its own pet ideas about the most artistic form. In fact, a diverge 1 ce of opinion lias re cently developed which unmistakably illustrates a feelfbg of decided satisfac tion with the iron-bound laws which have been so long obeyed in tho pro duction of this coat. Tho double-breasted frock is as popu lar as ever. For day dress there is no other style so suitable, and it is also a great favorite for business wear by professional men' and others whoso' business requires them to be particular ly well dressed. It is made about the same as last fall, tho changes being a lower roll and slightly wider shoulders, with sleeve a trifle larger. The lengths are the same. Morning coats are made to close with four, three or ono button, the four-button form being decidedly the most popular. Tho features common to these forms arc high shoulder seams, moderate waists and full length, moderate width of back at waist, wider shoulders, and larger sleeves than last season, a lower opening than last sea son* and more general ease. Hi walking coats a style which will enjoy some favor is made with a waist length of twenty and a full length of thfrty-two inches. This coat is but slightly cut away in front, rolls about the same as a morning COHt and has rather wider shoulders. Made from eheck ot pi aided goods, it is a very at tractive garment. No matter what other styles mhy bo in favor, the sack always enjoys a con siderable popularity. For otlice and business wear, there is no other style so comfottable, Convenient, and suit able, aud for this reason no other can displace the sack in popular favor. Be sides these ail vantages, 1 the sack looks well in, and is better adapted to, tho ntote pronounced styles of fabric than any form of the frock. For tho coming season, the four-button sack with a light roll, say four Inches deep, with tho fronts boldly rounded from tho lower button, will bb tlm favorite style. —— One of the funny bills in the Califor nia Assembly iV Ono which (ji'/es to any young man under twenty-olio years' of (age. who learn!* a trade hy serving ah ; apprenticeship for three years and is a ! moral young man, §250 outof the State Tr^auiicv. NO. 21. The Chances of Fewer Marriages* Girls are no more angels thi tin men are apes, and there are other vices be sides impurity, such as eftvy, unchari tableuoss, malice, Untruthfulness, and ill-temper. Are all tlio vices on our side? Post-nuptial backslidings are worso than ante-nuptial divagations, aud if the balance is to be struck after marriage it is not easy to say on which side tho slide would be. There is one lesson which we, all of its, in what ever rank or society wo may be, havo to learn, and the sooner we learn it. tho bettor—tho lesson of humility, of modesty, of economy. We are n a longer the lords of creation; we have, no longer a monopoly of capital or production, rents and interests will fall lower still, and unless we realize tho situation, come down from our high horse, and moderate onr views of stylo and expenditure, very serious trouble will overtake society. Wo had better give up sneering at those “dirty foreigners,” and imitate a little of their frugality. But the example must be set by those ab6ve; so long as the loaders of tho great world indulge in display, thoso below will spend their last shilling in an insane attempt to be in tho running. Diamonds, lace, cost ly fabrics, whether for dress or furni ture, long and lavish dinner parties, heavy suppers after balls, all these things might bo made unfashionable by a wave of Zcnobia’s wand. Unless some change of this kind is made in* our habits, or unless some happy rev olution occurs in our economic history, there will be fewer marriages than ever in Vanity Fair: —The National Review ; Opiates. Tin* first indulgence is in some sense legitimate; is almost enforced, either by acute pain or by chronic iusomnia. The latter is perhaps the most danger ous. Tho pain, if it last for weeks, forces recourse to the doctor before tho habit has become incurable. Sleep lessness is a more persistent, and to f most people a much less alarming thing; and it is moreover one with which tho doctors can seldom deal save’ through the very agents of mischief. Neuralgia, relieved for a time by chlo roform or morphia, may be cured by quiuino; sleeplessness admits of hardly any cure but such complete change of life as is rarely possible, at least to its' working victims. And tho narcotist habit ouce formed, neither pain nor sleeplessness is all that its renunciation 1 would involve. The drifnkard, it must be remom bered, gets drunk, as a rule, but oc casionally. Save in the last stages of dipsomania lie can do, if not without drink, yet without intoxicating quauti titio.s of drink, for days together. The narcotist who attempts to go for a whole day without his accustomed dose suffers in 24 hours far more cruelly than the drunkard deprived of alcohol in as many days. The effect upon the siomadi and other organs, upon tho nerves as well as on tho brain, is one of indescribable, unspeakable discom fort amounting to torture; a disorder of the digestive system ruore tiffing than sea sickness, a disorganization of. the nerves which after some hours of unspeakable misery Culminates in con vulsive twitchings, in mental and physical distress, simply indescribable to those who have not felt i(L Where attempts have been made for cibly and suddenly to withhold tho ac customed sedative they havo not un frcquontly ended within a few daj r s in madness or death. In other cases tho victim has sought and obtained relief by efforts and through hardships which, in his or her best days, would have seemed impossible or unendurable. Ono woman thus restrained escaped in? deshabille from her bedroom on a win ter night of arctic severity; ran for miles through tho snow, and was fortu nate enough to find a chemist who’ knew something of tho fearful effect of such privation, and had the sense and’ courage to give in adequate quantity the poison that had now become the first necessary of life. In a word, nar cotics, one and all, are, to those who* have fallen under their power, tyrants whoso hold can hardly ever be shaken off, which punish rebellion with the rack, and with all those devices of tor ture which mediaeval and ecclesiastical cruelty found even more terrible than’ the rack itself; while the most abso lute submission is regarded with suf ferings only less unendurable than the punishment of revolt. De Quin coy’s dreams under the influence of opium' were to' the tortures of resistance what tho highest circle of purgatory may be’ to the lowest pit of the inferno. —The National Review. • Saltpeter in Nevada. The saltpeter beds of Nevada are far bettor situated for tho development of their deposits than tho nitor region of South America, which is a desert en tirely devoid of water and all vegetable life, and where tin* development can be accomplished only by surmounting many difficulties; the provisions of the miners have to be transported from long distances; the water supply for all purposes is condensed from the ocean water and carried to the niter li ids, while fuel has to be procured from tho mountains in the South of Chili. In Nevada, we are told, the saltpeter deposits are in the vicinity of a rich farming country, with an abund aut supply of water and food close at baud, and the niter can be furnished at prices considerably cheaper than that for Which Che South American article" can be obtained.— N. Y. Sun. —i ■ ■ Tliff latest iliing in stockings does axVay with garters or supporters from nbovo. Tho hosiery is kept in’ its place hy lacing from under the kudo to tho upper bulge of tiio calf. Tims the cir culation of the blood in tho limbs is not impaired. Tho New York World publishes tho portrait of the handsomest women in Now Jersey, whereupon tho Buffalo' Hxprcss cruelly comments: “It repre sents a person who is nearly up to the' average standard of fdmininS bdanty as’ recognised in the United Slates.” An eccentric individual residing in’ Detroit keeps his face detail shaven and his hair clipped close by singeing, and" bis cheeks, chili anil upper lips are marked with many sears where they have beCii seared by' thd red hot pinto or steel with which he plays the bar ber During a lifetirmt of fifty years a man’ on’tilt!' average spends 6,000 days in sleeping ami tho sauie amount in work ing; 2(ooo'days ih eating, 800 in walk ing, is ill 60 1 days, and the remainder of tho half century— nearly nine years —is frittered away iu recreation aud amusement.