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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!