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ENIGMA —No. 83.
I am composed of 24 letters:
My 15, 11, 18, 4,9, 1,8, 10, 23, is a
dangerous reptile.
My 3, 19, 6,7, 16, 20, 22, is the French
of linnet.
My 17, 10, 2, 12, is a precious metal.
My 21, 14 ; 15, 13, is a conjunction.
My 24, 19, 5, is a familiar word in the
home circle.
My whole you may see verified in the
glossed appearance of many inhabitants
of the world. “Beatrice.”
Answer next week.
St. Joseph's Academy, Columbus, Go., Oct., 1868.
ENIGMA—No. 84.
I am composed of 24 letters:
My 11, 15, 10, 21, 4, 5. 18, 22, is a
French name for a young woman.
My 24, 16, 3,2, 15, is kind regard.
My 13, 10, 23, 1, 20, is a boy’s name,
abbreviated.
My 6,9, 1, 14, 5, is a Spartan slave.
My 19, 7, 22, 8, 16, is a fierce animal.
My 18, 12, 2, 17, 4, is a demonstrative
pronoun.
My whole is an injunction left us by
our Divine Saviour. “Gertrude.”
Answer next week.
St. Joseph’s Academy, Columbus, GI L, Oct. 1808.
ENIGMA—No. 85.
I am composed of 28 letters :
My 9, 14, 22, 5,2, is the name of a
tree.
My 4. 27, 21, 13, 22, 26, IV, 19, 27,
is a town in Indiana.
My 1(>, 12, 18, 8,3, 20, 24, is a
pldnt.
My 28, 25, 10, 7, 23, 3, is a Spanish
name for a governess.
My 1, 21, 15, is to unite.
My 11,3, 20, is a vehicle.
My whole is a motto, applicable to the
many’ trials and disappointments of life.
Mary Ann. •
Answer next week.
St. Joseph’s Academy, Columbus, Ga., 1868.
Answers to Last Week’s Enigmas,
Etc. — To Enigma No. 81.—“ Thou shalt
not Steal”—Unto —These —L seth—Hast
—Shall—Let—Then— Not— them—
Hath—That,
To Enigma No. 82.—“A1l Quiet along
the Savannah To-night”—Loathe-—A an
quish— Note—Little —Tale —High—In-
vasion—Hesitate—Gallant—Haul —Ele-
vate—Gain—Quote.
To Square Word —
SOUTH
O M N I A
UNDER
TIERS
HAR S H
Seeing is Deceiving. —Here is a row
of ordinary capital letters and figures:
SSSSXXXXZZZR333 888
They are such as are made up of two parts
of equal shapes. Look carefully at these,
and you will perceive that the upper
halves of the characters are a very little
smaller than the lower halves—so little
that an ordinary eye will declare them to
be of equal size. Now, turn the page up
side down, and, without any careful look
ing, you will see that this difference in
size is very much exaggerated; that the
real top half of the latter is very much
smaller than the bottom half. It will be
seen from this that there is a tendency in
the eye to enlarge the upper part of any
object upon which it looks. We might
draw two circles of unequal sizes, and so
place them that they should appear equal.
—Once a Weeh.
[Prepared for th Banner of the South by Uncle Buddy.]
hAMILIAR SCIENCE,
WATER —CONTINUED.
Carbon, —Carbon is a solid substance,
generally of a dark or black color, well
known under the forms of charcoal,
lamp-black, soot, etc. Carbon occurs in
Nature, crystallized in two forms—the
Diamond and the Graphite. Graphite is
from the Greek word, graphein , to
write. It also known by the name of
plumbago, or black lead, and is used for
making pencils for drawing and writing.
India rubber erases pencil marks on
paper, because it contains a very large
quantity of carbon, while black lead is
carbon and iron. Now, the carbon
of the India rubber has so great an at
traction for the black lead, that it takes
up the loose traces of it left on the paper by
the pencil. Caoutchouc, or India rubber,
is a compound of carbon and hydrogen.
Graphite, plumbago, or black lead, is a
mineral substance composed chiefly of
carbon, with a very small proportion of
iron.
The Diamond is chiefly found in India,
the island oft Borneo, Brazil, and Aus
tralia. It has also been found in North
Carolina and Georgia; in the United
States. Graphite is found in Ceylon,
Germany, England, and other places;
but the purest Graphite conies from Cey
lon.
A Crystal is the geometrical form pos
sessed by a vast number of mineral and
saline substancewhose particles com
bine with one another by the attraction
of cohesion, according to certain laws,
the investigation of which belongs more
properly to the science ot crystallography.
The Diamond possesses the following
peculiarities : It possesses a degree of
hardness superior to that of any other min
eral ; it scratches all other bodies, but is
scratched by none. It acquires positive
electricity by’ friction, but does not retain
it for more than half an hour. It posses
ses either single or double refraction ac
cording to its crystalline form. When
exposed to the sun’s rays lor a certain
time, or to the blue rays of the pris
matic spectrum, it becomes phosphores
cent. “Phosphorescence” is that proper
ty possessed by certain substances ot
emitting a light of their.own. ihe dia
mond can be burnt; but it requires a
very strong heat, W hen burnt in oxy
gen it forms carbonic acid. An example
of carbon in its uncrystallized state is
lamp-black, which is the soot piodueed
by the imperfect combustion of oil or
rosin, and is pure carbon in its uncrys
tallized or amorphous state. Amor
phous’” is shapeless, without form.
Charcoal is wood which has been ex
posed to a red heat till it has been de
prived of all its gases and volatile pa-its.
Charcoal removes the taint of meats be
cause it absorbs all putrescent effluvia,
whether they arise from animal or vegeta
ble matter.
There are other kinds of charcoal, such
as coke, the charcoal of bituminous coal,
and anthracite, which is a mineral char
coal. Anthracite differs from bituminous
coal in containing no bitumen, and,
therefore, burning without flame or
smoke. ,
A charcoal fire is better thair a wood
fire, because charcoal is a very puie car
bon ; and, as it is the carbon oi fuel which
produces the glowing heat of combustion,
therefore, the purer the carbon, the more
intehse will the heat of the file be. . _
Coal is a fossil fuel of vegetable origiu,
found under the surface of the earth. 1 at*
largest coal fields in the world are in
North America. Coal is also iound in
great abundance in Great Britain, i lance,
Germany, India, China, and Australia.
Jet is a species of bituminous coal,
found in Saxony and Prussia The
eoarser kinds are used for fuel, and
the finer sorts for the manufacture of
breastpins, ear rings, and other tnnkets.
Coal makes such excellent fuel, be
cause it contains a large amount of carbon
and hydrogen gas in a very compact and
convenient fontt. Stones will not do as
well for fuel as coal, because they contain
no hydrogen, and little or no carbon.
Iron cinders will not burn, because they
contain impurities, which are not so
ready to combine with oxygen as caibon
and hydrogen are.
Oil, tallow, and wax, are composed,
principally, of carbon and hydrogen gas.
Timbers, which arc to be exposed to
damp, are first charred, because charcoal
undergoes no change by exposure to air
and water; in consequence of which,
timber will resist weather much longer
after it has been charred.
Sick persons should eat dry toast, rather
than bread and butter, because the char
coal surface of the toast helps to absotb
the acids and impurities of a sick
stomach. Other reasons might be given,
which, however, belong to the science of
medicine.
A piece of burnt bread will make im
pure water fit to drink, because the sui
face of the bread (which has been reduced
to charcoal by being burnt), absorbs the
impurities of the water, and matte* it
palatable. .
Water and wine casks are charred in
side, because that reduces it to a kind of
charcoal; and charcoal, (uy absorbing
jjnimal and vegetable impurities), keeps
the liquor sweet and good.
Water is purified by being filtered
through charcoal, because charcoal ab
sorbs the impuritieS of the water, and re
moves all disagreeable tastes and smehs,
whether they arise from animal or vege
table matter.
Carbonic J.lcid .—Carbonic acid gas is
formed by the union of carbon and oxy
gen, It used to be called^fixed aii.
Three pounds of carbon and eight pounds
of oxygen will form eleven pounds of cai
bouic acid- It is found in the air we
breathe, in mines and cellais, in offei
vescing wines, and in many minerals.
At Brold, near Lake Laach, which occu
pies the crater of an extinct volcano in
Rhenish Prussia, six hundred thousand
pounds weight of carbonic acid gas is dis
charged from the ground every twenty
four'hours. it is also generated by a
; lighted candle or lamp, and is formed by
j the union of the carbon of the oil,' or tal
-1 low, with the oxygen of the gas.
i? mhii® Mil S9iraO
[From the N. O. Picayune.]
When Something in Life is
Wrong.
BY PEARL, RIVERS.
High over the scented stacks of hay,
And the shining rows of grain,
The lark is thrilling, while yet he may,
The tender heart of the gracious day V
With joy by his rapturous strain.
But what recks the girl in the country lane
Os the lark, or the lark’s glad hymn ?
Since never again, tho’ her life be long,
From her thirsty heart will the fount of song
Gush over her sweet lips’ brim.
Look under, look over, and far away,
The earth, like a queen, wears gold ;
And royal banners float over the sky
From gray cloud castles, wide and high, .
Os purple and crimson fold.
The sun, with his golden censor swung
Low over the glowing West,
Burns incense to God, and the flames rise bright,
Flooding the world with a sweet, soft light,
Baptising it into rest.
But what cares the girl in the setting sun
For glory of earth or sky V
The giory of womanhood, Love, to-day,
From the sky of her young life faded away,
And she only cares to die.
Ah! Autumn is golden, and Spring is green,
And Summer is sweet and long ’j
But what care we in our discontent
For the earth’s adornment, hue, and scent,
When something in life is wrong ?
my Revenge.
BY MARIA STOCKWELL.
I do not think that I am a cruel wo
man, naturally, though I know that* I
put Ernest Gregory upon the rack with
glad, eager hands. There were reasons,
sufficient to satisfy myself, which led to
the'planning of such a course, and which
drove me to the accomplishment of these
plans, when pnee formed; but, whether
the harboring of such feelings, did not, at
last, react upon myself, with a hardening,
bitter influence, I cannot say. I did not
care then.
This Ernest Gregory, had been my
sister’s husband, for two long, weary
years, until she died, and was carried
forth, from her home, to her quiet, blessed
grave.
When the ground was really over her,
I breathed more freely than I had done
since I saw her sweet, beautiful face, be
side his dark, selfish, unfaithful one, upon
their bridal morning. At least, she was
out of his arms, and, away from his in
fluence now. For that, I thanked God’,
while I nerved myself for the work, which
I was at last free to perform.
While my sister lived, I had borne all
for her sake. Let him beware now !
For every smiling, tender word he had
dared to insult me with, he should receive
a hundred-fold reward. For every mo
ment of suffering, his neglect had given
the being who was more than my life to
me, he should receive full recompense at
last. Let him beware, indeed!
I meant to make him love me, as a man
loves what he would die for. It was not
enough that he should admire and ask
me to be his wife; he must be so bound
up in my life, that to sever would be a
living death. I was a desperate woman,
bound to a single purpose. Little danger,
but 1 should succeed!
For six months, I kept upon the outer
verge of his love, eluding him here and
there, as a butter-fly eludes your grasp,
until he was half ready to grasp, and
crush me. Then I began to tighten the
chains. One day I would make him feel
all the love that I had might be his; the
next, that I was heights upon heights
above him.
“ I believe you hate me,” he said, as
we walked together through a soft June
twilight.
“ Do you ! How absurd!” I answered,
lightly, though the blood that hate arouses,
was boiling through my veins.
He bentdown, and looked into my face.
“Your eyes glitter like fire, but such
a hard, cruel look as they nave ! Oh,
Marcia! will you ever be mine ? ”
“If the Fates have so decreed,” I an
swered, nonchalantly. “You believe in
Fate, I think ? ” looking into his eyes,
tenderly.
“ I believe in anything that will bring
me nearer you.”
His voice was husky in its earnest
ness and passion.
“We spoil the quiet of the night—
and, besides, I must go home. I have an
engagement,” I said, turning about sud
denly.
“ Let me touch your lips once, Mar
cia ? ”
“ Not for a thousand worlds !” I an
swered quietly.
He dropped my arm, and turned back,
saying: “ I will leave you, then.”
“Very well,” I answered, as placidly
as before.
He came back in an instant.
“Itisof no use. I believe there was
never a slave bound.by such chains as I.”
“Nonsense! You would forget mein
a week, were I away.”
“ For Heaven’s sake, don’t try me. It
would be worse than torture to lose you
for that length oftime, in thi9 uncertainty.”
How I remembered then the other
one he had wooed and won; and how 1
remembered and thought of her far into
that quiet night! She who should have
had only brightness and joy, to be
cheated with dust and ashes! who should
have had truth and right, and honor, to
guide her, to be forced to walk beside a
cowardly traitor ! A sweet, gentle wo
man, fragile as an Auiumn leaf, tender
and forgiving as an Angel, what she suf
fered, who can tell ? Just once she said
this much to me: “Marcia, life looks
dark, and so different from what I thought
it once.” “But Heaven is yours,” I said,
throwing my arms around her, and try
ing to hide the tears upon my face.
But to continue.
The days wore on. The luscious Au
tumn came, laden with its fruits and flow
ers. The maples dropped their crimson
and scarlet leaves, like wine-drops at a
feast, the thrush and woodpecker called
loudly from the chestnut tops, the earth’s
high carnival would soon be past. I
looked around with-steady eyes, and said:
“The Winter is corning to me. It shall
be Spring no longer in Ernest Gregory’s
heart.”
We were far up the mountain side, he
and I—lie, radiant, and happy, because
I meant that he should be thus; I, serene
and—waiting.
“ Let us go over the top, and down
through the hollow, home. You remem
ber the way ? ”
“ Oh, yes, I remember,” I answered.
“And, you will say, ‘I love you,’ be
fore the sun sets.”
“ I promise an answer, true. It will
be whatever my heart says.”
“I am not afraid. I have read love in
your eyes, all this golden day.”
“ Have you ?” I answered, in careful
ly modulated tones, smiling meanwhile
into his eager face. “Wait!”
“ With you, I can wait forever! ”
We rode slowly up the steep ascent,
and then, I struck into a hard, fierce
gallop. There are times when one seems
to fear nothing. That was such a day
to me; and the exhilerating air, which
whirled around me, seemed to fill me with
new daring. Neither spoke a word until
we came into the edge of the village.
Then I slackened my pace a little, and,
turning from the road, said: “Come!
I must stop a moment yonder,” pointing
towards the burying ground.
Lie suspected nothing, yet, being wholly 7
taken up with his own blissful dreams.
At the gate, I dismounted, he doing the
same, and we went int 6 the Church-yard
together, and stood looking down upon
my sister’s grave.
For a moment both were silent. Then,
I said, slowy: “Do you want your an
swer ? Listen. Long before this grave
was either dug, or filled, you dared to
throw your smiles into my face; and, day
by day, even while the heart which loved
you, as God forbid you should ever be
loved again, was breaking, inch by inch,
you went on your dastardly way, neither
knowing, nor caring, whether she died,
or lived. Above her dead, cold form, l
vowed to have revenge. I meant that
you should suffer, as your white lips say
you do. Know, then, that, while I smiled
into your eyes, I loathed you with an
utter loathing. You have your answer.
Go ! ”
1 hurried out, mounting my horse, and
rode swiftly home. As I was entering the
house, Ernest Gregory's voice, so
changed, I should scarcely have known
it, stopped me.
“ Wait, Marcia ! lam a wicked man,
I know, but your love might have saved
me. Remember that, when you hear of
me again.”
Yesterday, who should I see ascend
into the pulpit of a West End Church,
but Ernest Gregory! The face I should
have known anywhere, though there was
an indescribable difference between it, and
the oue I had seen so white and pallid as
it left me years ago.
I listened to the sermon, like one in a
dream, though, more than a hundred times
I sent up thanks to Heaven, that lie stood
before me, saved, and, not ruined, as I had
hoped he would be in the long ago. At
the close of the service, he came down,
and pressing through the crowd, touched
my arm.
“You know me ? ” he said, in a whis
per.
I bowed my head.
“ I meant—you remember when—to
have gone straight to ruin; but I am
striving for Heaven instead. Can you
forgive the past ? ”
1 put out my hand.
“ Forgive me, rather. I have seen my
wickedness since.”
“ 1 think she looks down from Heaven,
and helps me,” he said, his voice trernb
ling.
After all, there is something sweeter
than and that is Forgiveness,
for, therein lies the way to Heaven.
Wit and Humor.
A tired oysterman discouragingly
that life is mere dredgery.
A Wisconsin paper, describing a lar gl .
farm, which the advertiser wants to sell
adds the following :
u The surrounding country is nioßt
beautiful; also, two wagons and a y o k e of
6teers.”
A lady, writing upon the subject says
“ When men break their hearts, it i s th e
same as when a lobster breaks one of his
claws —another sprouting immediately,
and growing in its place.”
A disturbed preacher remarked: “If
that cross-eyed lady in the side aisle
with red hair, and a blue bonnet, don't
stop talking, I must draw attention to
her.”
An aged bachelor, being asked if l le
ever saw a public execution, was rascal
enough to say : “ No; but I once saw a
marriage.” He is still at large.
A y’oung man advertises for a situation
as son-iu-law in some respectable family.
Would have no objection, he says, to
going a short distance in the country.
“ Come here, my little man,” said a
gentleman to a youngster of four years
of age, while sitting in the parlor where
a large company were assembled;
“Do you know me ?”
“ Yes, sir, I think I do.”
“ Who am I then ? let me know.”
“ You are the man that kissed Jane
last night in the parlor.”
A Western minister wcnt’to church
recently and took his seat with the con
gregation, refusing to preach because his
salary’ had not been paid. Wide fore
head.
The Boise Democrat says, in a recent
issue: “We have had crickets on the plain
and grasshoppers in the valley 7, and now
we’ve got bedbugs in town, and of all the
aggravations ever known # or heard of,
bedbugs bid fair to take the palm.”
A correspondent writes that, if we de
sire it, he will “send us something to till
up with.” That’s just what we want
Suppose you commence now with a good
roasting piece of beef and a barrel of
flour.
A dandy, strutting about a tavern, took
up a pair of green spectacles which* lay on
the table, put them on his nose, and turn
ing to the looking-glass, said: “Landlord,
how do these become me ? Don’t you
think they improve rny look ?” “I think
they do,” replied the landlord, “they hide
a part of your face.”
A Quaker, on hearing a man swear at
a particularly bad piece of road, said:
“Friend, I am under the greatest obliga
tion to thee. I would myself have dune
what thou hast dime, but my religion for
bids me. Don’t let my conscience, how
ever, bridle thee; give thy indignation
wings, and suffer not the prejudice of
others to paralyze the tongue of justice
and long suffering—yea, verily.”
A temperance lecturer descanting on
the superior virtues of cold water re
marked: “When the world had become
so corrupt that the Lord could do nothing
with it, he was obliged to give it a
thorough sousing in cold water.” “Yes/
replied a toper present, “ but it killed
every critter on the face of the earth.”
Editing a daily newspaper is supposed
by some people to be as easy as lying.
Their inclination to and long practice in
the latter, blinds their vision in relation
to the formM’. Men who can get as fat
as aldermen in lying, would run their
boues through the skin in trying to edit
a newspaper.
FROM THE PERSIAN OF HAFIZ.
Two ears, and but a single tongue,
By Nature’s laws to man belong;
The lesson she would teach is clear:
“ Repeat but half of what you hear. "
A bridegroom in France fell asleep
after’the ceremony, and could not 1"
awakened for nine days. He took time
by the forelock in anticipation of curtain
lectures.
THE POET FOILED,
To win the maid, the poet tries,
And sonnets writes to Julia’s eyes;
She likes a verse—but cruel whim,
She still appears averse to him.
The following is attributed to the p cli
of a distinguished candidate for the Inst
office in the gift of the people :
Into the pure and crystal cup
A gill I poured of ancient rye.
And, as with this I mixed it up.
The water smiled—and so did I.
u. 8. <>•
Honor thy Gravy — lt is not a bad
thing, (for a classic joke) which is told
Antagoras, the poet, and which bespeak
a fine instinct for cooking. Autagora
having a bird to cook, refused to g°
bath, as usual, for fear, in his absence,
the slaves should come and sop. up 1
gravy. “Let your mother watch it, - cau
his friend Philoacydes, very natimmy
“What!” replied that great creature
“what! Entrust the gravy ot
one’s mother ? The Gods forbid.
Dicken’s All the lean Round.