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YOUTHS' DEPARTMENT.
G-reedy Jim.
[Being a story of a little boy who swallowed a wholo
butter-pat, not knowing that it contained a fairy.]
“ Greedy Jim is always rude,
Pokes his hand in every dish ;
In his hurry to intrude,
Swallows bones instead of fish ;
Swallows bad instead of good ;
Snatches meat, but swallows fat—
Greedy Jim, extremely rude,
Swallows a whole butter-pat!
“ « Goodness! Jim, don’t look so wild!’
• Gracious! Jim, don’t scream so shrill
< What’s the matter with the child?’
‘ Goodness, gracious! are you ill?’
Father’s getting rather riled,
Mother hardly draws her breath—
‘Goodness! Jim, don't look so wild ;
Sure you frighten us to death l ’
“ Tumbling down and leaping uj),
Twisting limbs in every shape ;
Rolling, grov’lliug like a pup,
Mowing, mopping like an ape ;
Tasting neither bit nor sup—
Yelling like an imp in pain ;
Tumbling down and leapiug up—
Certainly the boy’s insane.
“ Little have his parents guess’d
Whence the mighty mischief springs ;
Men and women, much depress’d,
Recommend a hundred things.
But it's hard, if truth’s confess’d.
To find cure or antidote ;
For —a fairy in your chest,
Trying to ascend your throat!”
ENIGMA—No. JB.
I am composed of 38 letters :
My 9, 16, 14, 27, 37, 20, 5, is a coun
try in Africa
My 18, 4,7, 10, 9, 15, 3, 23, is the
name of an ancient hero.
My 23, 5, 22, 1, 33, 27, is a river in
South Carolina.
My 32, 3, 34, 29, 8, 37, 38, is a city of
the United States.
My 14, IS, 25, 11, 2, 13, 23, is a
heathen god.
My 6, 13, 12, 19, 30, is the Greek for
j strike
My 28, 35, 17, 21, 24, 32, is a Japan
ese title.
My 31, 36, 26, is the French for faith.
My whole is the name of a flourishing
society of one of our Northern cities.
Frank.
Washington City , D. C., May, 1868.
Answer next week.
ENIGMA—No 19.
I am composed of 18 letters.
My 1,5, 15, 8,4, is the name of a
month.
My 12, 14, 3, 10, 7, 17, is where all
children like to go.
My 13, 9, 15, 2, is something very
useful and also dangerous.
My 13, 15, 2, 16, is what every one
wishes to be.
My 1,5, 15, 15, 7,2, 10, is what all
young ladies wish to be.
My 18, 4, is an interjection.
My 3,5, 10, is a vessel.
My whole is something very useful to
our city. N. E. 13.
Augusta , Ga., 3lay, 1868.
Answer next week.
Answers to Last Week’s Enigmas.
— Enigma No. 16.—Carrie Bell Sin
clair—Clear—Lesson—Lair-Bice-Seine
—Bee—Cabin—La! —Sallic —llice-* An
—Ceres—Lane,
Enigma No. 17.—“ For her heart in
his grave is lying”—Angelo-A. P. Hill
—lris—Tea—Heron —Fannie —Organ
llorsc—Violet—Har ass—G in gcr.
We have received correct answers as
follows:
No. 10—Minnie, Sharon, Ga.; 14 and
15—N. E. 13. Augusta, Ga.; Frank,
Washington City, I). C.
[Prepared for the Banner of the South by Uncle Buddy.]
FAMILIAR SCIENCE
HEAT CONTINUED.
Everything that man is acquainted
with is expanded by heat.
Cold is merely the absence of heat.
All bodies contain beat; but inferior de
grees of heat are designated by the term
“cold.’'
Most bodies contract b f cold ; but
water is an exception to this rule, for
when cooling from about seven degrees
above its freezing point, it undergoes a
regular expansion; and in becoming
solid a still farther expansion takes place.
The expansion of freezing water amounts
to about one-seventh of its bulk. That is
to say, a two gallon measure containing
seven quarts of water would be quite full
when perfectly frozen.
The expansion of water sometimes
produces very powerful effects. Thus,
for instance, rocks are often rent assunder
by it, lead and iron pipes are burst, aud
a ] »rass globe filled with water, and closed
by a screw, was burst by the freezing of
the water, with a force of not less than
28,000 pounds.
Unslit chestnuts crack with a loud
noise when roasted, because they contain
a great deal of air, which is expanded by
the heat of the fire; and the air, not
being able to escape, bursts violently
through the thick rind, slitting it, and
making a great noise. This noise is’oc
casioned by the sudden bursting of the
shell, which makes a report in the same
way as a piece of wood or glass would do
if snapped in two, and also the escape of
hot air from the chestnut makes a report
similar to that of gunpowder when it es
*
capes from a gun.
The sudden bursting of the shell, or
the snapping of a piece of wood, make a
report, because a violent stroke is given to
the air when the attraction of cohesion is
thus suddenly overcome. This stroke
produces rapid undulations in the air,
which, striking upon the ear, give the
sensation of sound.
This escape of air from the chestnut, or
the explosion of gunpowder, produces a
report because the sudden expansion of
the imprisoned air produces a partial
vaccuum, and the report is caused by the
rushing in of fresh air to fill np this vac
cuum.
If a chestnut he slit before it is roast
ed, it will not crack, because the heated
air of the chestnut cau then escape
freely through the slit-in the rind.
Apples split and spurt about when
roasted, because they contain a quantity
of air, which being expanded by the heat
of the fire, hursts through the peel, carry
ing the juice of the apple along with it.
The apple contains much more air, in
proportion, than the chestnut, In fact,
there is as much condensed air in a com
mon sized apple as would fill a space
forty-eight times as large as the apple it
self ; hut as the inside of the apple con
sists of numbers of little cells, it easily
contains this volume of air when con
densed.
When an apple is roasted, one part be
comes soft and the other part remains
hard, because the air in the-; cells near
the fire is expanded, and escapes; the
cells are broken and their juices mixed
together ; the apple collapses (from loss
of air and juice,) and feels soft in those
parts.
By collapsing is meant the giving way
of the plumpness of the apple, leaving it
soft and shrivelled.
Sparks of fire start with a rumbling
noise from pieces of wood laid upon a
fire, because the air (expanded by the
heat) forces, its way through the pores of
the wood, and carries along with it the
covering of the pores which resisted its
passage.
The pores of the wood are very small
holes in the wood through which the sap
circulates.
The sparks of fire arc very small
pieces of wood made red hot and separ
ated from the log by the force of the air
when it bursts from its confinement.
Light, porous wood, makes more snap
ping than any other kind because the pores
are very large and contain more air than
those of wood of a close grain. Green
wood makes less snapping because the
pores being idled with sap, contain very
little air.
Dry wood burns more easily than green
or wet wood, because the pores of dry
wood arc filled with air, which supports
combustion; hut the pores of green or wet
wood are filled with moisture, which
extinguishes flame.
Moisture extinguishes flame. Ist, be
cause it prevents the carbon of the fuel
from mixing with the oxygen of the air
to form carbonic acid gas; and, 2d, be
cause heat is perpetually carried off by
the formation of the sap or moisture into
steam.
Stones snap and fly about when heated
in a fire, because the close texture of the
stones prevents the hot air enclosed in
them from escaping; in consequence of
which, it hursts forth with great violence,
tearing the stones to atoms, and scatter
ing the fragments. But probably some
part of the effect is due to the setting
free of the waters of crystalyzation.
[From the Guardian.]
MINNIE GORDEN.'
BY EVANGELA.
Minnie Gorden was the only child of
wealthy parents, who did all they could
to make her happy; she had handsome
clothes, many beautiful playthings, and,
better than all, a lovely little white, curly
dog, who followed his mistress tvherever
she went. Still, Minnie was not happy,
for she was not good; she was always
discontented with what she had, and
wished for something new, and was very
self-willed. Her mother was a sweet,
gentle lady, but so weak and delicate that
she could not walk in the charming gar
den, and only went out on a bright day to
take a drive. Then Minnie would beg to
go with her, and say she would he good,
hut no sooner were they away from home
than she would begin to fidget, and would
keep neither her tongue nor feet quiet, so
poor Mrs. Gorden went hack from her
drive more tired and sick than when
she started out. She was sorry her little
daughter was so naughty, and tried to
make her better ; but she kept on being
as had as before, and would break her
toys in rage, fight her nurse, and make
such a broil in the house, that her parents
made up their minds to send her to school
when she was eight years old.
At first Minnie was pleased, and liked
to go to school at half-past eight in the
morning and return home at twelve, and
then at two in the afternoon till four ;
but after a while she got tired of that, and
did not like to study her lessons.
So days, weeks, and months passed, and
Minnie was no better; her dear mamma
grew more weak and sick, and tried to
make her little girl pray to God to turn
her heart, for He alone can do that.
One day, in the month of June, Min
uie gmt home from school late, and very
cross and self-willed; she was naughty
and idle, and was kept in a half hour
after the other girls had gone. She ran
into the room where her sick mother was
seated in her arm-chair, but would not
speak to her, so great was her rage; she
threw her books on tiie floor, and sat
down to pout. Her mamma spoke to
her once or twice, but got no answer ; at
last Minnie jumped, up and began to
strum nu the window glass. “Minnie, my
dear, don’t do that,’ 7 her mother said;
hut she kept oli. “Minnie,” said her
meteor, “get me a drink of water, won’t
you?” But this naughty girl would not
obey her parent, and after a few moments
went out of the room and shut the door
with a great slam. That night she went
to bed without going to bid her poor
sick mother good-night.
The next morning she was amazed to
find the house as still as death; when her
aunt came to her and kissed her, and cried
very much’ Minnie was sad and afraid
to see her weep, and asked if anything
was the matter with her mamma ? After
a great while the lady sobbed and said,
“Your dear mamma has gone to her eter
nal rest! she is dead!” Then, indeed, the
hitter tears of sorrow and remorse poured
from Minnie’s eyes ; oh! how deeply did
she grieve for all the pain she had given
her lost mamma.
Years passed, and with the help
of God, she had become good ; she never
ceased to grieve for having refused her
darling mother’s last request, a drink of
water.
Little readers, from this sad story
learn never to refuse to help your parents,
but try to he a comfort to them, and
never grieve them, for you know not how
soon they too may be taken away, like
little Minnie Gorden’s mother.
AN OLdTsTORY.
Many years ago a celebrated Italian
artist was walking along the street of his
native city, perplexed and desponding in
consequence of some irritating circum
stance or misfortune, when he beheld a
little hoy of such surprising and surpass
ing beauty that he forgot his own trouble
and gloom in looking upon the almost an
gel face before him.
“That face I must have,” said the ar
tist, for my studio. Will you come t*
my room and sit for a picture, my little
man ?”
The little boy was glad to go and sec
the pictures, and pencils, and curious
things in the artist’s rooms ; and he was
still more pleased when he saw what
seemed to be another hoy looking just
like himself smiling from the artist’s
canvass. *
The artist took great pleasure in look
ing at that sweet fa<se. When he was
troubled, or irritated, or perplexed, lie
lifted his eyes to that lovely image on
the wall, and its beautiful features and ex
pression calmed his heart and made him
happy again. Many a visitor to his
studio wished to purchase that lovely face ;
but, though poor, and often wanting
money to buy food and clothes, he would
not sell his good angel, as he called this
portrait.
So the years went on. Oftentimes, as
he looked up to the face on the glowing
canvas, he wondered what had become ot
that boy.
“How I should like to sec how he looks
now ! I wonder if I should know him ?
Is he a good man and true, or wicked and
abandoned ? Or has he died and gone to
a better land?”
One day the artist was strolling down
one of the fine walks of the city when he
beheld a man whose face and mien wore
so vicious, so depraved, so almost fiend
like, that he involuntarily stopped and
gazed at him.
“What a spectacle ! I should like to
paint that figure, and hang it in my studio
opposite the angel-boy,” said the artist to
himself.
The young man asked the painter for
money, for he was a beggar as well as
a thief.
“Come to my room, and let me paint
your portrait, and I will give you all you
ask,” said the artist.
The young man followed the painter,
and sat for a sketch. When it was finish
ed, and he had received a few coins for
his trouble, lie turned to go; but his eye
rested upon the picture of the hoy ; he
looked at it, turned pale, and then burst
into tears.
“What troubles you, man ?” said the
painter. It was long before the young
man could speak. He sobbed aloud, and
seemed pierced with agony.
At last he pointed np to the picture on
the wall, and in broken tones which
seemed to come from a broken heart, he
said :
“Twenty years ago you asked me to
come up here and sit fora picture, and the
angel face is that portrait. Behold me
now, a ruined man, so bloated, so hideous,
that women and children turn away their
faces from me ; so fiend-like that you want
my picture to show how ugly a man could
look. Ah ! I see now what vice and
crime have done for me.”
The artist was amazed. He could not
believe his own eyes and ears.
“How did this happen ?’’ he asked.
The young man told his sad and
dreadful story ; how, being an only son,
and very beautiful, his parents petted and
spoiled him; how he went with bad hoys,
and learned all their bad habits and vices,
and came to love them; how, having
plenty of money, he was enticed to wicked
places till all was lost, and then unable to
work, and ashamed to beg, he began to
steal, was caught, and imprisoned with
the worst kind of criminals ; came out
still more depraved to commit still worse
crimes than before ; how every hud deed
he performed seemed to drive him to
commit a worse one, till it seemed to him
he could not stop till brought to the
gallows.
It was a fearful tale, and brought tears
into the artist’s eyes. He besought the
young man to stop, offered to help him,
and tried his best to save him. But,
alas! it was too late. Disease, contracted
by dissipation, soon prostrated the young
man, and he died before lie could reform.
The painter hung his portrait opposite
that of the beautiful hoy ; and when
visitors asked him why he allowed such a
hideous looking face to be there, he told
them the story, saying, as he closed;
“Between the aimel and the demon there
O
is only twenty years of vice.”
The lesson of his tale is in the tale
itself. You who read it can tell what it
is. Think of it often, and heed it always.
WS T AND HUMOR.
No II earers. —lii a very thin house,!
an actress spoke very low in her com- j
muuication to her lover. The actor,
whose benefit it happened to he, exclaimed
with a woeful humor ; “My dear, you
may speak out, there is nobody to hear
us.”
A well known “economical” Boston
Bank President was recently rendering’
his income return, when his attention
was called to an apparent omission.
“Have you more than one gold watch ?”
asked the official. “Not one —a useless
expense.” “Any carriages, sir?” “I
don’t indulge in one.” “A piano, I think
you have ?” “Sir, I wish you to under
stand I own nothing that docs not draw
interest.”
A clergyman, happening to get wet,
was standing over the fire to dry his
clothes, and when his colleague came in,
he asked him to preach for him, as he was
wet. “No, sir, I thank you,” was the
prompt reply, “preach yourself; you will
he dry enough in the pulpit.”
A Chicago editor says that half the
people who attend musical entertainments
iu that city “don’t know the difference
between a symphony and a sardine.”
Trying to Live on iiis Salary. —The
Hartford Post is responsible for the story
of a conductor on a Road not a thousand
miles from Hartford, who had agreed, in
the kindness of his heart, to pass a poo:
penniless fellow on his train. An officer
of the road, sitting in the same car with
the man, observed that the conductor
took no fare of him, and called him to
account for it. “Why do you pass that
man V’ said the treasurer.. “Oh, he’s a
conductor on the railroad.” “He’s
a conductor ! why, what makes him dres.>
so shabbily?” “Oh, he’s trying to live
on his salary !” was the quick reply
Mr. Treasurer saw the point, and dropped
the subject.
Young Lady Heard From.—A good
joke is told of a young man who attended
a social circle a few evenings since. The
conversation turned on California and
getting rich. Tom remarked that
if he was in California, he would, instead
of working in the mines, waylay some
rich man who had a bag full of gold,
knock out his brains, gather up the gold,
and skeedaddle. One of the young ladies
quietly replied that he had better gather
np the brains, as he evidently stood in
more need of that article than gold
Tom subsided.
When does a criminal resemble an ol i
book ? When lie is bound over.
An old gentleman traveling, some
weeks ago, on a Western railroad, had
two ladies, sisters, for companions. The
younger, an invalid, soon fell asleep, and
the old gentleman expressed his regret at
seeing so charming a young lady in ill
health. “Ah! yes, indeed,” sighed the
elder sister, “a disease of the heart.
“Dear me,” w r as thesympatheticrespon.se,
“at her age ! Ossification, perhaps ?”
“Oh, no, sir—an ossifer, a Lieutenant ! ’
“My dear, what shall we get for dinner
to-day ?” “One of your smiles,” replied
the husband; “I can dine on that an
day.” “But I can’t,” said the wife.
“Then take this,” said he, giving her a
kiss, and departing for the office. II
returned to dinner. “Thisis excellent,
said he, “what did you pay fur it ? ’
“What you gave me this morning,” said
she. “The deuce you did?” said he
“then you shall have market money th
rest of the time.”
The editor of the Southbridge?/ou?’??f7 ’
was set all a-back the other day, when h
asked a farmer’s wife how she made sau
sages, and received the answer : “Take
your in’ards, scrape ’em, scald ’em, and
stuff ’em.”
A sailor, exhorting af a orayermeeting
in a London chapel, said imu on dark ana
stormy nights, while on the sen, he had
often been comforted by that beautiful
passage of scripture, “A faint heart never
won fair lady.”
A fervid young convert in Minnesota
during a recent revival, feeling great in
terest in the spiritual future of a friend,
whose profession was that of a trapper
made public .supplication for him in
the words following: “Lord, there i
Mr. L , who traps tor a living. Lord
he traps wild animals to support hi:
family 0 Lord, trap him !”
A downeaster has invented a rat exter
minator, consisting of a sort of powder
and snuff. The animal jerks his head oil
the third sneeze.
On Tick. —Why wouldn’t you soil
anything to a man in bed ? Because a.
cash business is best, and it is evident he
would be buying on tick.
A dandy is a thing who would
Bea woman if ho could;
But, as he can’t, does all he can
To make folks think lie’s not a man.
-* 1 Quoth Tom, ’tis strange that in the world
So much injustice should abound;
Nay, answered -John, the human heart
Is never on the right side found.
The harness of life—the traces of tim.
The notes which singers like best—
bank notes.
A safe robbery is not always a sal
operation.
One lash to a good horse ; one word ;
a wise man.
What is that which is often fouie
where it is not ? Fault.
the flowers of speech spring’ from ik
roots of the tongue.
The most dangerous bat that flies
night is the brick-bat.
What do you always do before you _
to sleep '( Shut your eyes.
When does a woman’s tongue
quickest ? When it is on a railroad.
“Why do you always travel third
class asked a gentleman of a miser.
“Because there’s no fourth,” was the un
expected but satisfactory reply.
Why is a prudent man like a pin
Because his head prevents him from y
ing too fur.
Why is a bridegroom worth more tha
the bride ? Because she is given awa
and he is sold !
“Ma, whereabouts is the State of Mat
rimony ?” “You will find it in one of
the United States,” was the answer.