Newspaper Page Text
8
YOUTHS' DEPARTMENT*
o
[Far the Banner of the South.]
Charade.
My first is found in ev’ry man,
In all the plants that grow;
In every phrase that you may scan,
In every place you know.
My second, a vessel is, to hold
Liquids, of any kind;
Be they tepid, warm, or cold,
'Twill suit them, you will find.
My third, you will he sure to say
Wheu directions you impart.
As “do in this nnxle or way,
This duty, work, or art.’’
My whole is a plant
Os beauty so rare,
That Art has enshrined it
In temples most fair. B,
ITonesdixle. mar Philadelphia, July iB6B.
ENIGMA—No. 30.
] am composed of 10 letters:
My 1,2, 3,4, is to cleanse or scrub.
My 5, G, 7, reversed, is a drink,
My 8, D, 10, is a weight.
My whole isa city of the United States.
J. P. M.
Answer next wepk.
Atlanta, Ga., July, 1868.
ENIGMA—No. 37.
I am composed of 9 letters :
My 5,2, 7,8, is a lady’s name.
My 9,6, 7, is a child’s name.
My 5,3, 4,8, 9, isa man’s name.
My 1,3, 9,9, is a cat’s name.
My 1,4, 3,9, is an arithmetical term.
My 1,4, 2,7, 8, means level.
My 4, 2 7,8, is a roadway.
My 2,4, 8, is a refreshing beverage.
My G, 7,8, is of the singular number,
My 3,9, is of the plural number.
My whole is the name of a distinguished
Naval Oommauder in the Revolutionary
war.
J. J. C.
Answer next week.
Atla?ita, Ga., July, 1868.
SQUARE WORD.
My first is an article of household and
kitchen furniture. *
My second is part of a lady’s wearing
apparel.
My third is often a stigma of disgrace.
My fourth is the abbreviation of a man’s
name.
My fifth is to give a portion to any one.
U. A. P.
Augusta, Ga.
Answers to Last Week’s Enigmas,
Etc.— To Enigma No. 33.—“ Laughing
Waters”—St. Augustine—Waste—Rhine
—Leg —Hawaii—Green.
To Emgma No. 34.—Winfield Scott
Hancock—Wool—Hand—Cock—Tiles—
Thief—Cane—Aloft.
To Enigma No. 35.—Rev. Father
W. Hamilton—Thee—Lemon—Willie—
Eleve—Montreal—Heart—Harriet.
Answers by Correspondents.—The
following are correct: E. F. S., Charles
ton, S. C., to Nos. 29, 30, 31, and 32 ;
Charlie 0., Vicksburg, Miss., to Nos.
24, 25, 2G, 27, and 28; J. P. Y., Atlan
ta, Ga., to Nos. 21, 30, 31, and 32 ;
Maggie J. 8., Macon, Ga., to Nos. 29,
30, 31, and 32; J. P. M., Atlanta, Ga.,
to Nos. 29, 30, 31, and 32. U. A. P.,
Augusta, Ga., to Nos. 29, 30, 31, and
32 : also, the following very neat an
swer to Poetical Charade in No. 17 :
“ Wllir-POOR-WILL.
Whip a child if it should need it,
But if poor and hungry feed it;
By firm, strong will then drive away,
From mind the Whippoorwill's sad lay.”
Os course, the first part of this answer
doesn’t apply to our young readers.
They are all, we are sure, too good to need
punishment of any kind. 11. A. C., Au
gusta, Ga., to Nos. 29, 30, 31, 32, and 33;
J. K. K., Chattanooga, Tenn., to Nos.
29, 30, 31, and 32; G. B. P., Savannah,
Ga.,to Nos. 29,30, 31,and 32; H. A.C.,
Augusta, Ga., to Nos. 29, 30, 31 and 32;
Rubi, Macon, Ga., to Nos. 29, 30, 31,
and 32, and Charade; Agnes, Savannah,
Ga., to Nos. 29, 30, and 31, and Charade:
Evalina, Savannah, Ga., to Nos. 29, 30,
31, and 32; 11. N. H., Selma, Ala., to
Nos. 29, 30, 31 and 32, and to Charade.
Enigmas and Charades.—We have
quite a number of these on band, which
will appear in regular order. Our young
contributors must not get out of patience,
tlierelore, if their productions do not ap
pear soon.
iPrepared for the Banner of the South by Uncle Buddy.]
familiar science.
H EAT—CONTINUED.
Parting with heat rapidly makes the
hearthstone feel warm, because the rapid
influx of heat raises the temperature of
our body so suddenly that we cannot help
perceiving the increase. The non-con
ducting power of hearth-rug prevents
its feeling so hot as it really is, because
it parts with heat so slowly and gradually
that we scarcely perceive its transmission
into our feet.
Cooking vessels are often furnished
with wooden handles, because wood is
not a good conductor, and, therefore,
wooden handles prevent the heat of the
vessel from rushing into our hands to
burn them. And handles of metal tea
pots are sometimes made of wood for the
same reason ; the wood being a bad con
ductor, the heat of the boiling water is
not so quickly conveyed to the hand as
it would be by one of metal.
A metal handle would burn the hand
of the tea maker, because metal is an ex
cellent conductor, and, therefore, the heat
of the boiling water would rush so quick
ly into the metal handle that it would
burn the hand. We prove the metal
handle to be hotter than the wooden one,
thus : If we touch that portion of the
metal into which the wooden handle is
fixed, we shall find that the wooden handle
feels cold, but the metal intensely hot.
When we plunge our hands into a basin
of water, it produces a sensation of cold,
because water is a better conductor than
air. and as it draws oil’the heat from our
hands more rapidly, it feels colder. The
conducting power of water makes it feel
colder than air, because it abstracts from
our hands so rapidly that we feel its loss,
bat the air abstracts heat so slowly that its
gradual loss is hardly perceptible.
Water is not, however, a good conductor
of heat, for no liquid is a good conductor,
but water is a much better conductor than
air. This is because it is more dense
than air, and the conducting power of any
substance depends upon its solidity, or
the closeness of its particles. We know
that water is not a good conductor of
heat, because it may be made to boil at
its surface without imparting sufficient
heat to melt ice a quarter of an inch be
low the surface.
Liquids are not good conductors of
heat, because the heat which should be
transmitted, produces evaporation, and
flies off in the vapor. ,
Hot bricks, wrapped in cloth, are some
times employed in cold weather to keep
the feet warm, because the bricks are bad
conductors of heat, and cloth, or flannel,
still worse ; in consequence of which, a
hot brick, wrapped in flannel, will retain
its heat a very long time.
A room is warmed by a stone in this
way: The air nearest the fire is made
hot first, and rises; cold air then descends,
is heated, and ascends, iD like manner ;
and this interchange goes on until all the
air of the room is warmed.
It may be asked, if air is such a bad
conductor of heat, why should we not
feel as warm without clothing, as when we
are wrapped in wool and fur ? Now, the
reason is this: because the air, which is
cooler than our body, is never at rest;
and every fresh particle of air draws off a
fresh portion of heat.
Woolens and furs are used for clothing
in cold weather, because they are very
bad conductors of heat, and, therefore,
prevent the warmth of the body from
being drawn off by the cold air.
-»
[For the Banner of the South,]
“MOTHER GRAHAME.”
[CONCLUDED. ]
The day of the pic-nic has come ; and
how joyous everything looks. ! The sun
shines, the trees with their green leaves,
the flowers with their beauteous hues, the
birds, the streams, the humming insects,
all seem joyous and full of life.
The six-seated wagon has been trought
into requisition, with its two strong grey
horses. Baskets filled, and well covered,
with a goodly display of white napkins
and shining steel, have been stowed away.
All look comfortable and pleasant, as
Mother Graham said, when they drove
from the door, and she was left alone at
home.
She has some work that she intends to
finish this day of quiet; and, besides, she
wishes to write up her journal. She,
therefore, after fixing them all, and giving
the farewell kiss, turns and walks into
the house.
We are not interested in her work, and
while she is doing that, we will go with
the pic-nic party.
They stop the carriage on a grassy
spot, near a bridge, which arches above a
stream. This stream is wide, but not
very deep just here. It is ouo of the
tributaries of the Oconee. Here it has
been made tributary to man’s necessities,
for, in sight of the bridge, is a mill dam,
extending across the stream, over which it
falls with a refreshing summer-sound, all
day long. It gurgles over rocks, and
rushes wildly from hollow to hollow ; and
the dried leaves and dead flowers, that
have fallen from the trees into the water,
<io whirling with its downward current;
till, as it approaches very near the
bridge, it becomes smoother and deeper
—I do not know how deep. I know that
the bridge is high, and the road on either
side of it is high, also. Trees, that look
Musis’ m mt §qiti.
a century old, are on each side of the
road ; and the leaves that have fallen on
the earth are, to-day, blown gently about
by the passing breeze.
The woods are open; no underbrush,
except on the moist banks of the river,
down by the stream. “Over the hills
and far away,” the eye wanders, seeing
fields of ripening grain, or forests of
green, or clumps of plantation houses.
Rut where is our party ? This side,
or that , of the bridge ? Well, they are
on that side. The mill is on this side,
not in view, because it is a little up the
stream.
A road winds down by the edge of the
river, passes a shallow brook, that runs
over a rocky bottom, aud enters the main
road, near the bridge on this side. The
bed of this little brook was a famous
play-place for boys.
The water and rocks hero were a
miniature of the rivers. The water
spouted through fissures, and gurgled
into little basins, and ran smoothly where
the rock was smooth. It was all rock,
and the low bank on the road-side was
covered with wild flowers, and the luxu
riant cinque-foil, with its red berries and
yellow flowers.
On that side, not far from the brink of
the river, and before the hill rises, is a
grassy corner. It looks as if it was made
for pic-nics.
The moisture of the river bank shows
itself here, in the verdure of the leaves,
and the bright coloring of the flowers.
A few directions, and Eddie’s ever
ready hand soon forms a bower; wreaths
of jessamine thrown upon it, arrange
themselves with natural grace and beauty;
clusters of azalia, and the rich pink of
the mountain laurel, add to the general
effect.
Clara, and Rosa, and Eddie, have per
formed their parts well. Mary and little
Anna have neither of them been back
ward. They have handed up the flowers,
while the rest have arranged them.
Miss Thomas lias looked on approvingly,
directing them by her eye where and how
to place the flowers.
“Now,” said Eddie, jumping from the
limb of the tree, where he had been
standiug to fix the flowers, “how do you
like it ? Come, stand here, Clara and
Rosa. Doesn’t it look well, off here ?”
“Oh, beautiful! beautiful!" said Clara
and Rosa.
“It only wants one thing,” said little
Anna, “and I am going to the carriage to
bring it;” and she and Miss Thomas went
off to the carriage together.
“What is she going to do ?” said Rosa;
“she will just spoil it now, if you don’t
mind, Clara.”
“I don’t know what she is after,” said
Clara; “we will see, directly.”
In a minute, here came Miss Thomas
and Anna, with a doll almost as large as
Anna hcrsel f.
“ Why, goodness gracious!” said
Rosa.
“Oh, oh, Rosa, hush! you oughtn’t to
say that,” said little Anna, going into the
bower, and seating her dolls in a seat
formed by the bushes.
“And why must'nt I say so ?” said
Rosa.
“Because it is'not right,” said the little
girl, dodging her head down, with an
emphatic movement; “Mother Graham,
and M iss Thomas, both, told me, it was
wrong to say any such wordsT
“/ don't see why ?” said Rosa.
“ Who is good, and who is gracious ?
answer that.”
“Well,” said Rosa, who was quite ab
sorbed in fixing the doll, and bumming
a tune indifferently.
“Can you answer that ?’’ said Anna,
twisting her by the sleeve. “ Who is
good and who is gracious ?”
“God is good, and God is gracious.
I suppose that is what you mean.”
“Yes, that is just what I mean;” and
she stood off a little way from the doll,
viewing it with some satisfaction. “Now,
that is fixed just right. Oh, I do hope
Elly Crawford will bring her dull. When
do you think they will be here ?”
“Now, directly, I expect,” said Rosa;
and they ran down the grassy slope to the
road-side, and, to their great delight,
saw them winding along the road, on the
other side of the bridge,
The girls could not keep their delight
within bounds, so they walked over the
bridge, to meet them on the way.
“Come, Anna, you must consent to
hold my hand,” said Miss Thomas ; “it
you go over the bridge, I cannot trust you
to walk alone over this place.”
“Oh, I am willing, I am willing!” said
the happy child, as she danced in glee
along the boards, and peeped through
the railing, upon the turbulent waters
beneath.
“There’s Elly—there’s Elly—there’s
Elly Crawford, with her doll; and there’s
Fannie, and Allie, and Johnny,” said
Anna and Rosa.
“And somebody else, 100, Miss Thomas,”
said Clara, who, ’being the largest girl,
thought she would take the liberty of a
sly jest.
Eddie and Max had gone off, as booh
as the bower was completed, and were
playing on the bed of tfie little brook
that ran into the river, and were now in
full view of those who were crossing the
bridge. They amused themselves leaping
from rock to rock, and looking, with pry
ing eyes, into the holes, where the con
stantly running water had worn the rock
into deep, round fissures.
In one of these leaps, Max had tum
bled right into one of these holes. For
tunately, it was not so large as to prevent
his taking very good care of himself.
He clung to the edge of it, like a good
fellow, and shouted to his brother Eddie
to help him get out.
The shouting of the boys attracted the
notice of the entire party—the Crawfords
on one side, and the Greys on the other,
who were approaching each other, and as
it happened, met just there.
Mr. Grahame (for he was the somebody
else) immediately ran to the scene of ex
citement. Miss Thomas Was very much
frightened, and so overcome, that she
sank upon the nearest rock, as soon as
she saw that he was again out of the
water.
“O, Max, why did you frighten me
so ?” she said to him, as he came up to
her, dripping wet from his waist down.
“Oh, Miss Thomas, I am out now,
ina’in ; but, I know, there is a big cooter
in that hole. Just as sure as I am
alive, M iss Thomas, there’s a big’ cooter
in that hole.”
“You have frightened him into the
other country, then, Max,” said Eddie;
“I don’t know which was the most
frightened, you are the cooter.”
“Frightened, indeed !” said Max, “you
know, brother Eddie, I was not fright
ened.”
“I know you made a great noise, and
shouted almost loud enough for Mother
Graham to hear you at home.”
“My, how you do love big tales, brother
Eddie ; I shouted because the water was
so cold.”
“And, because you were frightened a
little, Max ; * acknowledge the corn/ now
or never.”
“Well, I believe I was a little afraid
that the big thing I felt in there, might
seize me by the foot, before I could get
out ”
“ That's a man now; I knew he would
tell the truth about it,” said Eddie.
“Well, 1 beg that you will give no more
such frights, when I am about,” said Miss
Thomas. “Mr. Grahame may not be
here to draw you out, another time. I
must thank you, Mr. Grahame, fur the
relief you have given me by your presence
here.”
“Oh, it was a mere nothing, Miss
Thomas ; Max doesn’t mind getting into
one of these holes. I expect, if the truth
was known, he has had many such ad
ventures.”
Eddie looked at Max, and smiled.
“You have been a boy, Mr. Grahame,
I see,” said Eddie.
“Oli, yes, I know something of boyish
adventure, I assure you,” said the Doctor.
“We won’t say anything more about
that, now,” said Max, “but do let us try
and fish that big something up, that I felt
moving in the hole.”
“Are you very sure you felt anything
there besides yourself ?” said Eddie.
“I know there is something there,” said
Max ; “and, brother Eddie, 1 want you to
help me ; you know that I can’t get it
out by myself.”
“Well, let us take this bid stick, and
try what wc can do,' said Eddie ; “sup
pose it should be a condensed sea ser
pent ?”
“i don't care what it is!” said Max,
“my words will be true, and you will
know I did not say it, because I was
frightened.”
Mr. Grahame on one side, and Eddie
on the other, tried for a long time, before
they could feci anything at the bottom.
At last, there was a movement, and the
bulk they felt, moved around and around
the hole. At last, it rose to the top of
the water, gave one loud “puff,” and sank
down to the bottom again.
“Ob, no, not so fast, my good sir,” said
Eddie, stirring him up again with Ins
big stick; “I am prepared for you, sir,”
and, as it rose again, he sank a det under
him, and thus confined him, till Mr.
Grahame and himself could draw him out
on dry land.
“Ah ! didn’t I tell you so ?—didn’t I
tell you so?” said Max, jumping and
skipping about with great glee.
“He is not your trophy, though, alto
gether,” said Eddie; “I made the uet
that brought him out.”
“I went in after him, though,” said Max.
“I think,” said Miss Thomas, “that
Mr. Grahame must be crowned with the
honors of the day; for, he not only took
you out, but the cooter, as you call it.”
“Well, hurrah !” said Max, “we’ll do
that, because Mr. Graham’s company ;
but I was the one that found out where
he was.”
“How will you prove it?”
“By my pants !” said the little fell
holding out his pants on each side, ami
jigging around the trophy.
“/give it, decidedly in the Doctor’s
favor,” said a voice which startled them.
This was Mr. Grey, who had come on
horseback, to see the interesting group.
He dismounted, and walked with them
to the bower, where the girls, as happy
as happy could be, were playing with
dolls, making wreaths, and talking as if
their time was short; and they must say
all they wanted now, or forever after bo
silent.
The result was, that they crowned both
Dr. Graham, and Miss Thomas, one with
laurel and the other with wild flowers.
Mr. Grey made them a complimentary
speech, and the children scattered flower
around them.
We will go back to Mother Graham,
who had spent a day lull of experiences.
She had finished her work, and laid it
aside ; had gone into her room, and, shut
ting the door, had consigned her ways to
Go 1, entreating Him, by “His wisdom, to
guide her into the truth,” and concluding
her prayer thus ; “And on tin's, the 20P
anniversary of my great woe, wilt Thou
lift up Thy hand, that lias been laid
heavily upon ine, for my souls good:
and let joy take.the place of woe, O God !
in the name of Jesus !”
After dinner, she went to her place,
that she had rented to Dr. Grahame.
WIT AND HUMOR.
The best maiden speech—“ Yes.”
Rustic pugilism—A box in the country
Effective bottle-stoppers—Teetotallers.
Motto for an attorney— Su em cuh.uo
■Sheet music—The cry of children in
bed.
Circulating medium—An itinerant
spiritualist.
Sanguinary revolution—The circulation
of the blood.
Were our first parents sugar-planters ?
Yes, they raised Cain.
When a shoemaker begins to manu
facture a shoe, the first thing that h •
uses is the last.
When can a road be said to be decided
in its views? When it has a positive
inclination.
Miss Tompkins says every unmarried
lady of forty has passed the Cape of Good
Hope.
Why is a pretty girl's foot like the
letter Y ? Because it’s at the end of
beauty.
"Which is the strongest day in the
week ? Sunday; because all the rest
are week-days.
A servant girl told her master, the
other morning, that she was about to give
his wife warning, and quit the house.
“Happy girl ! would that I could give he.
warning, too !” was the brutal response.
“Jim,” said one youngster to another,
on the Fourth—“ Jim, lend me two cento,
will you ! I got up so early that I spent
all my money before breakfast; I didn’t
think the day was going to bo so long.'
A little girl in Portland was reading
the parable of the wise and foolish vir
gins, when she suddenly paused. “Web.
what did they forget ?” asked the teach r
encouragingly V “They forgot the ken
sene,” responded Miss Five year-old.
1 he London Tomahawk doesn't udm
Reade and Boureieault’s last. It sugge
as a revenge upon the man who la
murdered your mother, robbed yoai
children, poisoned your brother, destroyed
your country, burnt your house, :
married your widow—take him to s
“Foul Play.”
“Harry, I was sorry you broke y
arm. I sdppose it pained you awful:
didn’t it!”
Harry (withmuch feeling).—“Jtwa-;
the pain, old boy. Oh, no ! it was heir;,
deprived of carrying my hands in :
pockets which broke me down.”
“Why don’t you get married ?” said
young lady the other day to a bachclc.
friend, “I have been trying, for the last
ten years, to find someone who would e
silly enough to have me,” was the rep y
“I guess you havn t been up our way
was the insinuating rejoinder.
A Boston rhyruster tells why people
go to Saratoga:
Some go to partake of the waters,
(The sensible, old-fashioned elves),
And some to dispose of their daughters.
And some to dispose of themselves;
And some to squander their treasure,
And some their funds to improve;
And some for the mere love of pleasure,
Aud some for the pleasure of love;
And some to escape from the old,
And some to see what is new;
But most, it is plain to be told,
Come here because other folks do!