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8 YOUTHS' DEPARTMENT* o Charades. . FIRST. My first is done where students meet; My second to Desert Pilgrims sweet; My whole all seek, but they only find, Who, seeking nothing, are to all things resigned. Answer next week. llonesdale, near Philadelphia, ISGB. SECOKD. My first is one letter; my second a letter, too; My third is one letter; my fourth is letters two; My whole is chiefly known in the cloister and the camp, And on the stormy deck where gallant sailors’s tramp* Answer next week. Hbnesdale, near Philadelphia, 1808. ENIGMA—No. 42. I am composed of 13 letters : My 7,6, 13, 11, is a Latin verb. My 8,2, 1,2, is a Latin pronoun in the dative. My 6, 13, 1,6, 13, 11, 3,4, 6, is a town in Latium. My 5, 11, 7, 12, was a Latin noun. My 9,6, 3, 11, is a Latin verb. My whole is an institution of learning in the South. M. J. H. Answer next week. Mebanemlle, N. C., 1868. ENIGMA—No. 43. I am composed of 22 letters: My 3,8, 10, 20, 15, 9, is a distin guished Italian painter. My 4,5, 1,2, 6, 15, is a lake in Minnesota. My 14, 13, 16, 17, 21, is a number. My *l2, 11, 19, 21, 20, 22, is a girl’s name. My 7,4, 12, is a personal pronoun. My 14, 15, 16, 1,9, 15, 7, is a city in Georgia. My whole is a Proverb which young ladies should always remember and faith fully practise. Mary de C. Answer next week. St. Joseph’s Academy, Columbus, Ga., 1868. Answers to Last Week’s Enigmas, &c.i —To Enigma No. 39.—Sir Robert Napier —Arbor —Bios—Entree—Are — Baa !—Baron—lnn — Ant—Pen —Roan. To Enigma No. 40.—“ What is Home without a Mother ?”—Home—Whist — Shoe—Ham—War—Missouri —Hattie —Wish. To Enigma No. 41.—Reverend Wil liam H. Gross —Irene —Sin—Nose—Dol- -1 ars—G rade—Ri ver—W ish. To First Poetical Charade —Mend-I- Cant. To Second Poetical Charade —Novice —Ship. — 9 w w [Prepared for the Banner of the South by Uncle Buddy, j FAMILIAR SCIENCE, H EAT—CONTINUED. Liquids are ‘bad conductors of heat, because heat converts them into steam, and flies off with vapor, instead of being conducted through the liquid. Water is made hot in this way: The water nearest the fire is first heated and rises to the top ; while its place is sup plied by colder portions, which are heated in turn, till all the water is boiling hot. The commotion observed in water which is boiling, is mainly produced by the ascending and descending currents of hot and cold water, and by the escape of steam. These currents pass each other in this way: The hot ascending current rises through the centre of the mass of water, while the cold descending currents pass down by the metal sides of the kettle. Heat is applied to the bottom, and not to the top of the kettle, because the heated water, like heated air, always ascends to the surface, thus heating the water through which it passes. If, therefore, heat were applied to the top of a vessel, the water below the surface would not be heated. The lower part of a grate is made red hot by the fire above. It might be asked, why would not water boil, if the fire was applied to the top of a kettle ? It is be cause the iron of the grate is an excel lent conductor; if, therefore, one part be heated, the heat is conducted to every other part. But water is a very bad conductor, and will not diffuse heat in a similar way. That water is a very bad conductor, is proved in this way: When a blacksmith immerses red hot iron in a tank of water, the water which surrounds the iron is made boiling hot, while that below the surface remains quite cold. If you wish to cool liquids, the cold should be applied to the surface; because the cold portions will always descend, and allow the warmer parts to come in con tact with the cooling substance. Boiling water does not get hotter by being kept on the fire, if the steam be suffered to escape, because the water is converted to steam as fast as it boils, and the steam carries away the additional heat. Soup keeps hot longer than boiling water, because the grease, and various ingredients, floating in the soup, oppose the ascending motion of the hot particles, and prevent their rising freely to the surface. If you want to keep water hot for a long time, you can do so, by adding a little starch or flour to the water, be cause the starch, or flour, would oppose the ascending motion of the hot particles of water, and prevent their rising freely to the surface. Chbcolate, Indian mush, &c., remain hot longer than water, because the ascending motion of the hot particles is opposed by the mush or chocolate, and cannot so quickly reach the surface* Air is heated by “convective currents”; that is, when a portion of air is heated, it rises in a current, carrying the heat with it; other colder air succeeds, and being heated in a similar way, ascends also ; these are called “convective cur rents.” This term is derived from the Latin words, cum vectus (carried with), because the heat is “carried with” the current. Air is not heated in any sensible degree by the action of the sun’s rays passing through it. The reason, then, that the air is hotter on a sunny day than on a cloudy one, is because the sun heats the surface of the earth, and the air resting on the earth is heated by contact; as soon as it is heated, it ascends, while its place is supplied by colder portions, which are heated, in turn, also. It might be asked, if air be a bad con ductor, why does hot iron become cold by exposure to the air ? We answer, that it is made cold, Ist, by “convection,” and, 2d, by “radiation.” •It is made cold by convection, by the air resting on the hot iron, (which, being intensely heated, rapidly ascends with the heat it has absorbed ; colder air suc ceeding, absorbs more heat, and ascends also, and this process is repeated till the hot iron is completely cooled. Broth is cooled by being left exposed to the air, because it throws off some heat by radiation, but it is mainly cooled by convection; as thus: The air resting on the hot broth (being heated,) ascends; cooler air succeeding, absorbs more heat, and ascends, also; and this process is re peated till the broth is made cool. The particles on the surface of the broth sink as they are cooled, and warmer particles rise to the surface, which gradually assists the cooling process. The Girl with a Calico Dress. A fig for your upper ten girls, With their silks, and satins, and laces; Their agates, rubies, and pearls, And milliner figures and faces. When they shine at festival and ball, Are emblazoned with all they possess; But give mo in place of them all A girl with a calico dress. Her step is as free and as light As the fawn whom the hunters hard press, And her eyes are as soft and as bright— • The girl with the calico dress. If you want a companion for life, To comfort, enliven, and bless, Just the right sort of a wife, Is the girl with a calico dress. [For the Banner of the South.] IMAGINATION, BY MRS. SARAH 11. MAXWELL. I sat by a stove —the modern beat maker, and. as I felt its genial influence, the drooping wings of thought and medita tion, fanned me into the highest heaven of a thorough dreamer. The imagination reveled on everything that came before it, dressing them up in its own inimitable tints. The smoke from the puffed out through the holes in the door, and my eyes fol lowed it, until it seemed to be a part of the phantasmagoria, absolutely necessa ry to the general effect. * It ascended up to the ceiling, and then curled off, seeking the different corners of the room. Often, when unexpected, an eddy of air wafted a vapor by my side, twisting and curling it around with all imaginable motions. My eyes involuntarily turned to follow it, and then it floated away, mixing in with the cloudy air. The old family clock stood in the cor ner, and the tick-tack-tick sounded omin ously loud. Grandfather’s walking-cane was lean ing by the side of the chimney. The bird’s* head that it had on the top of it, with the hooked beak, looked peculiarly cross-grained, though it was made of gold, and its eyes, though they were _ so small, squinted at the arm-chair opposite. The tables groaned, and the chairs shook themselves, and the Maltese cut, that lay at my feet, gave a spring, and perched itself upon my knee. Tick-tack-tick went the clock—tick tack-tick. The little Chinese cups, on the mantel piece smoked with hot tea, and the little men and women flower-pots strutted about, as if ieady to enjoy them. Th e flowers nodded, in the meantime, as if possessed with the universal movement. Tick-tack-tick. The candle had steeples of sperm around it, and the wick had a large red spot on the top, trembling and shaking like the head of a salamander. Burn—burn—burn out and fall, for powerless lay the snuffer, that ought to move, on the stand by its side. The clock still went on, louder and louder, tick-tack-tick, tick-tack-tick. My eyes turned heavily upon the tick tack-ticking thing, and the little man that stood above it, peeping over, looked wondrously wise. His eyes twinkled, his nose flattened, as if an internal emotion was at work. The end of his mouth that was perceptible, was drawn up into a smile. He seemed to peer into my face, and with an intense meaning, in the twinkle of his eye, said : “ What is imagination ?” “Ah! thank you,” I said, nodding at him, glad that my tongue was loosened. “ It is mind , which is free from matter. It is the medium through which we see things live and move, that have no being.” “ Such as 1, for instance,” said the little man, who, hopping over the dial plate, and sliding down the wire of the pendulum, seated himself on the brass ball at the bottom of the clock. I thought to myself, “ he looks exactly like a picture I have seen in some book —a little man seated on a world.” “ Exactly,” he responded, slapping his fingers together with great glee ; “ a man of the world ! What an imagination !” You are more than a mere man of the world, I should say. They are generally satisfied with the scum, but you dive into the fluid. They judge of actions ; you penetrate the thoughts.” “ You say, the imagination is the medi um through which we see things live and move ; but you do not say things in animate.” As he said this, he pointed with his fingers at the figures on the mantel piece; and there they were, still congeeing one to another. The flowers dropped and nodded over their heads, the smoke rose from the Chinese cups. “It all looks very life-like,” I said. “ These inanimate things are made an imate and living. They seem well pleased with their little world. The stage on which they act, suits them ex actly. What more would you have from the imagination?” “ I would have it to travel back, and dress up for you some of the inani mate images of the past. Bring them again before you, dancing and gladsome, serious and stern, and give you from the past an image of the future.” “ Spirit of divination, then call them up.” “We will float first on the scum of the present,” said the little fellow, set tling himself down on the ball, with his legs crossed around the wire, and swing ing with the motion of the pendulum from side to side, “ and then, we will dive into the fluid of the past. Just like the sparkling wine cup that you hold between the light and your eye. The foam of the wine rises up, and sparkles and glitters in the light. It louk.s joyous and glad, though everything around may be dull. When you look again, the wine lies quietly at the bottom of the glass, with no foam, no efferves cence—naught but the substance. Well, this is a picture of the imagination. So, let us dive into the fluid of the past —the substance that you have already secured.” “ You are a queer little fellow,” I thought, and was just about saying so, but he responded immediately “ Perhaps so; remember now, I am diving.” Spell-bound I sat. My white hands both* lying listlessly on the arms of the chair, in sight; but not in motion. I felt as if with one great effort, I would like to clear my vision, if I could, of this strange companionship.” “ You had better not,” I heard again, “ for I am an entertainiug little fellow.” Tick-tack-tick —tick-tack-tick—went the old family clock, so loud, that I had almost broken the bands of inertia that held me down. Tick-tack-tick, it sounded in my ears, and it seemed to bind me the more close ly in those same powerful bands—the sleep of Nature —the sleep of mortality ; but not the sleep of the soul. _ Inertia —powerful inertia! the wonder ful attribute of the finite—receive the mo tive power of an infinite existence; and where does it terminate —where rest ? Mysterious mystery ! .It still clings to the body of the dead —it lies with him in the silent grave ; triumphing in the dust of its mother earth, it revels there, until, awoke with a trumpet call, it be comes clothed upon with the glory of heaven. THE FIRST DIVE. I lay on a bed of grass, ineffably peace ful and sere De. The blue sky vaulted above me a generous canopy; a few pale stars glimmered, for it was evening ; the moon shed her radiance abroad, but did not show her face, for white clouds lay in broken, fleecy masses above. “ What do they look like to you ?” said the little man. “ Like a big bowl of broken clabber,” I said, and then I remembered that at supper my admiration of that article had been expressive. The answer had come in voluntarily, for it was a conception of my youth, and I looked to see if other accompaniments were there. There was the peach tree in one cor ner of the yard, under the study window. The baby house was by the fence un der it, and the little kitchen adjoining it, with its brick chimney, piled up al most by baby hands. A bright fire burned in a distant part of the yard, and around it were playing other chil dren, laughing and dancing with glee. “ Where is the boy ?” said one. “ He is lying on the grass, dreaming, somewhere,” said another; and they went about the yard, looking for me; but the yard was large—buildings loomed here and there through the moon light and the firelight, and I was in the shadow of a large servants’ house, that stood in the middle of the yard. The clouds had separated, leaving spots of serene azure, and the moon, in triumph, was moving on in quiet and sub lime majesty. “ What does the moon look like ?” said the little man. “ Like a divinity of matchless grace,” said I. “ Just as true as the bowl of bonny clabber,” said he. I looked at the clouds, which, sinking away upon the horizon, assumed fantastic forms. They looked like matter. Then, like spirit—vanishing—vanishing away, until the deep blue vault was left unspotted. The moon, presiding still, looked peace ful and calm ; hut, the firelight was gone —the voices hushed, and I, too, was in the land of dreams. THE SECOND DIVE. I was walking on an elevated river bank. The bluff, shelving down into the blue stream, met its glad waters, which joyously echoed its lidisic to the gentle winds. They seemed to brush by my ear, whispering the sound of “glad glad waters;” “glad—glad waters;” and they were glad and bright, for there was no breath in heaven, or on earth, to interrupt the harmony and beauty of their gently rolling waves. Around me were playing the joyous and the glad. Young and buoyant spirits were revel ing in the sports of childhood. All seemed happy and light-hearted, but the dreamer. I looked upon myself. I had gone back to my youthful stature, and, in ap pearance, I was a child; but, in re membrance I was a man, dreaming of the past. I contemplated the companions of my youth, and saw in them the representa tions of what had been. The dead were again before me, living and breathing, with the life and blood of mortal sense. There was one bright-eyed girl, beam ing with love and joy. Her soul was only happy in giving vent to the luxuri ant life that was within her. It bounded up to meet the smile, the love, the joy of others ; and that was a part of her exis tence—her existence that always seemed so happy and so gay. [to be continued.J A Radical ‘SKool’ Director’s ‘Rool.’ —Not many miles from Mount Pleasant, “ the Athens of lowa,” a young lady recently engaged to teach the Summer school. Before she commenced, the Di rector handed her the following rules, which he informed her she would be re quired to enforce in the government of her school. She made a verbatim copy, and thinks it worth publishing for the benefit of other school boards : No swearin. Stin. quarrel in. Nicknamin. Going in to the water, rastling and jumping. Going into any body’s inelosure with out the consent of owner, winkin at the skule mistress, saying you’r better than a nigger. Pinching. pulliu of hair during books, courtin in skool. no writin luv ’pistils in skule no more than one pupil must go out at a time unless for wood and water. No krakin nuts unless dried, no whispering It is supposed that the author of these “rools” is a graduate of one of the nu merous “Institooshuns” of laming in Mt. Pleasant. WIT A INI D_HU MO R. In a bookseller’s catalogue appears the following : “ Memoirs of Charles the First, with a head capitally executed.” “ There is a divinity that shapes our ends,” as the doughnuts remarked when the girl was making them- A wealthy widow, advertising for an agent, was overwhelmed with appH ca . tions. The printer had made it a “gent.” A Connecticut editor gives an account of a man who “ blew out his brains after bidding his wife good-by with a shot, gun.” Cupid shoots with a rifle now, and not with a bow and arrow. Else how is it that girls can hear the popping of the question ? Child Murder —Making a boy or girl of seven or eight years study ten differ ent branches of education every day in school. A real estate agent informs the public that he has “ a beautiful cottage tor sale, containing ten rooms and eight acre of land.” The young lady who was frozen with horror, and subsequently melted into tears, was carried out and consigned to a watery grave. Logical proof that a eat has three tails —No cat has two tails ; a cat has one tail more than no cat; therefore, a cat lias three tails. The new drink is called “ Butler Cock tails.” You stir up with a silver spoon, squint one eye, and put the spoon in your pocket. “ How does that look?” said Mr. Cramp, holding out his brawny hand. “That,” said Amos, “ looks as though you were out of soap.” Charles Lamb used to say that he had a great dislike to monkeys on the princi ple that “ it was not pleasant to look upon one’s poor relations.” A dandy getting measured for a pair of boots, observed, “ Make them cover the calf.” “ Heavens ?” exclaimed the shoemaker, surveying his customer, “ I have not got leather enough.” “ Kisses,” says Sam Slick, “ are like creation, because they are made out of nothing, and are very good.” “ The) are also,” says the Galaxy, “ like sermons, requiring two heads and an application.” “ Woman, with all thy faults, I love thee stills was the reply of a husband to his scolding wife. “If you didn’t love the still so well, I’d love you still better,” replied the wife. “ There is one kind o’ ship I always steer clear of,” said an old bachelor sea captain, “ and that’s courtship, ’cause on that ship there’s always two mates and no captain.” A married woman in Wisconsin says that when her husband is a little drunk lie kicks her, and when he is very drunk she kicks him. She says she does the greater part of the kicking. A French journal writes the following geographical paragraph: “Paris chatters, Marseilles sings, Munich drinks, Borne prays, Lyons works, Leipzig reads, Mad rid smokes, Manchester packs, Hanover sleeps, Edinburgh dreams, and Constanti nople bathes.” “ Well, farmer, you told us your wood was a good place for hunting. Now, we’ve tramped through it for three hours, and found no game.” “Just so. Well. I calculate, as a general thing, the less game there is the more hunting you have.” Mr. Coble, of Bridgeport, advertises his runaway apprentice in the following style : “ He can be identified by the fact that he has not combed his hair since the Fourth of July, 1805, and cannot speak ten words at a time without uttering twenty falsehoods. The smartest reproof that we have heard for some months, was given the other day by a railway guard. “ Poes your mother know you are out ?” inquired a would-be witty passenger. “ Oh, yt ~, was the reply, “she gave me sixpence to purchase a monkey. Are you for sale ! “ How much to insert this death 1 asked a person at a newspaper office. “ One dollar.’’ “Why, I paid but fifty cents the last time I inserted one. “ That was a common death,” said the publisher, “but this is * sincerely re gretted.’” “ I’ll tell you what,” said the applicant, “ your executors will not he put to that expense.” A person who was recently called int court for the purpose of proving the cor rectness of a doctor’s bill, was asked ■ '} the lawyer whether “the doctor did fi° r make several visits after the patient out of danger !” “ No,” replied the wit ness, “ I considered the patient in and ■ lU ‘ fjer as Ions: as the doctor continued ! ' !r ' visits !”