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[For The Sunny South.]
THE WUl'.VUKD BIRD.
BT i. A. STEWART.
Beturning one evening, near setting of sun,
From a mission of death to the gay birds of spring,
A last charge was fired—unloading my gun—
Bringing down a poor bird by a shot on the wing.
Approaching the spot where the panting thing lay,
I stooped down to bag it along with my game;
But strength still remaining conveyed it away,
And failing to grasp it, I missed of my aim.
It fluttered and scrambled as onward I pressed,—
Was nearly in reach as it halted and cried,—
Till the poor thing at last settled down in her nest,
Where her young brood were wet with her blood as
she died.
So touching and sad was the sorrowful sight
Of the poor little nestlings unshielded and lone,
It left on my conscience a sin and a blight
Which years of reproaches can never atone.
I cast from my hand the cold, death-dealing gun.
As I gazed on the stream of the mother’s warm blood;
And I turned me away to the slow-setting sun,
And left the dead mother alone with her brood.
Atlanta, Georgia, May, 1875.
[For The Sunny South.]
POOR MR. WHITE.
BY PHILEMON PERCH.
“And this is the grace of aright gentleman/'—Chapman.
I have felt very thankful in these, latter years
of my life, and often wished I could feel more so,
in the recollection that in my childhood I was so
much the companion of my father. During his
life-time I loved and revered him greatly; hut I
am confident that I did not so much admire him
as within the years after his departure, in which
I have reflected and learned to understand more
fully how good he was, and,* in his own way,
how wise. I am much given, particularly of
late, to speculating upon the question whether
or not, in his present estate, he knows how often
I think about him and what I think. Sure I am
that the best teachings I have ever received,
either from men or from books (excepting the
Holy Scriptures), were those which came from
him. My mother — perhaps a more virtuous,
certainly a more pious person than he—has less
wisdom and a lower gift of imparting instruc
tion. She taught well, but rather by rote and
maxims, employing many words. He gave few
set lessons, and often when he taught the best, I
did not know that he was intending to teach at
all. Indeed, I suspect that he gave me many a
lesson without knowing it was a lesson. For
there were things which he did, not, I am confi
dent, for the sake of setting an example for me,
but because long habit in their practice had
made them so natural as to be unintentional and
unavoidable.
I know that there will not be found much of
interest in the little reminiscence which I pro
pose now to tell; but I have myself dwelt often
upon it in my own mind, and now I am going to
tell it and let it pass for what it is worth.
In the days of my boyhood, when railroads in
Georgia were none, wagon roads frequently in
summer, always in winter, were bad, and tav
erns were far apart, most persons residing upon
the highways were accustomed to entertain
strangers at night. I can well remember how
inhospitable and even unkind it was considered
to refuse to receive into the house a wayfaring
man, unless it was not too late to reach by
nightfall a place where such entertainment
would be sure to be given. In order to prevent
too-frequent impositions, the rule was to make a
reasonable charge for expenses. My father never
refused admittance except on occasions when a
refusal was necessary and proper.
I liked the coming of such travelers well. It
was very entertaining to me, who had so few op
portunities therefor, to see new faces and hear
new voices. Especially was this the case when,
as it almost always was, our guests v ere either
going to Augusta or coming from it. Now, there
was not a boy in Middle Georgia who did not
regard Augusta as the queen of cities. I re
member that as sublime an idea as I ever had
when a small boy, difficult as it was to compre
hend after much and long reflection, was that
conveyed by a speech I had heard from some
one who, in comparing Dukesborough with Au
gusta, said that the latter was so large and the
houses so thick that you c nil n’t see the town
for the houses. I turned this over and over in
my mind, and the less I could make of it, the
greater grew in niv imagination the famous city;
and when I at last came to know that it was not
the largest city in the world, but that London,
Pekin and even New York and Philadelphia,
and perhaps some other cities were larger, I was
mortified and humbled. Hut let such as all
that go.
Among those who occasionally stayed with us
far in the nij !:t was a middle-aged man named
Mr. White, lie professed to reside not far from
the Savannah river, and to have a brother in
good circums ;:nces in a county about three days’
journey west oi our home, and whom he visited
about twice a year. Mr. White was poor and
rheumatic. He rode a wretched horse that with
much difficulty carried him and a pair of soiled,
coarse cotton saddle-bags. Twice a year this
man went on a visit to his brother, never failing
to give us a call, both on going and returning.
It was a wonder to me how so poor a man and
I had been present at many of these partings,
and was for some time confused in trying to un
derstand the conduct of my father, whom I knew
to be one of the most charitable of men. One
more unhappy than ever before. What then,
Mr. White?”
He looked down upon me again, and I looked
up to him. Then there were many tears in my
morning I asked him if Mr. White had ever paid eyes; when he saw them, some came into his
him anything for spending the night at our ’ own.
house.
“No, he never has.”
“Do you think he ever will?”
“ Never.”
“ He is a very poor man, isn’t he ?”
“Yes; very poor and very sickly.”
I waited for some time, and then asked again:
“ Father, why do you charge Mr. White for
staying all night when he is so poor ? Do you
want him to pay you when he comes again ?”
Of course I don’t. "
“You see, my-son, that although we must be
kind to the poor, yet we must take some pains
in learning how to be so. The gifts of some men
to the poor make them better as well as happier.
Those of others, while they may supply present
wants, tend to make them evilly disposed, or in
other ways add to their general sufferings. It is
not everybody that knows even what charity is.
Money, and very much money, is often given
to the poor by persons who dislike even to think
about them, and who, instead of visiting them
[For The Sunny South.]
A WEEK WITH THE SCIENTISTS.
It was recently my rare privilege to attend the
annual meeting of the National Academy of Sci
ence, which was held at the Smithsonian Insti
tute in this city. This is admitted to be the
grandest body of scholars which adorns the an
nals of American science and literature. The
papers, which were read from day to day, were
matured and exhaustive productions, and the
discussions which they elicited were exceedingly
instructive and brilliant. Prof. Joseph Henry,
LL.D., who has no superior in the scientific
He answered abruptly. After a moment he in their poverty and sicknesses, and comforting ' world to-day, is the President of the associa-
looked at me, smiled and said:
Come, let us take a walk.”
them in their afflictions, send their money to
; them for the purpose of mainly buying themselves
We went into the orchard, for it was the time off from the discharge of these duties. When
of spring.
“ Why did you ask me, Philemon, if I wanted
Mr. White to pay me for his night’s lodging.”
“Because you said he was a very poor man.”
“Yes, I said he was very poor and very sickly;
poor and sickly too. I said also that I never ex
pected that he would pay me.”
“Well, father, if he is poor and sickly, too,
and you don’t expect ’’
I could not elaborate the idea that was on my
mind.
“You mean to sa\ r that if you were in my
place, such a man as Mr. White might spend
you grow older, you will see much of this sort
of charity. But what I meant to teach you now
is, that there is a difference among those who
really intend to be kind. Some persons have
another feeling for the poor besides pity. This
feeling is delicacy. Delicacy ! Study that word;
learn all that it means, and then try always to
practice it. Let us go now and look for your
mother!”
We never saw Mr. White again. In six months
we heard that he was dead. Not long afterwards
a gentleman, in passing our house, left my father
a wooden pipe, which the poor man had made
[For The Sunny South.J
FRIENDLESS.
BY KOSA V. RALSTON.
the night without paying anything for himself w ith his own hands, and which, upon his death
or his horse ? Is that it ?” bed, he had requested should be sent to him.
I answered that it was. ' No message accompanied the request. My father
“Now, I see, my son. that I ought, before kept it carefully ever afterwards,
this, to have explained to you my conduct to
poor Mr. White. I am glad that you asked me
about it. I don’t want Mr. White to pay me.
For several years he has been coming by here
twice a year, and spending a night with us. He
always asks for his bill, and I always say it is a
dollar. He never pays, and I never wish him
to pay. He always promises to pay, and proba
bly he believes that he will be able to pay the
next time he comes. At least, he hopes so. Now,
this hope that he will be less poor some day than
he is now, and has been ever since I knew him,
is a great thing for poor Mr. White. But for
this, sickly as he has long been, I think he
might have died before now. But that hope
makes him feel that he is able to get upon his
horse and travel about like other persons; and
Not one half the meaning of that word is ever
comprehended by the mass of people. It is
only to those who have had experience in that
unfortunate state, that the bare mention of such
a thing carries its terrors. Ah ! it must be a
sad thing indeed for one to realize that though
surrounded by such vast numbers in this spa
cious world, there is not one whom we may
tion, and Professor J. E. Hilgard, of national
reputation, is the Secretary. There were pres
ent the following members of the society:
From Yale College, Professors Elias Loomis,
0. P. Marsh, and B. Silliman; Dr. J. H. Trum
bull, of Hartford; President Barnard, of Colum
bia College, New York; Professor J. S. Newberry,
New York; Professor A. M. Mayer, Stevens' In
stitute of Technology, Hoboken; Professor A.
Guyot, of Princeton College; Dr. John L. L.
Coate, of Philadelphia; Professor J. P. Lesley,
director of the second geological survey of Penn
sylvania; Professor George H. Hill, astronomer,
Nyack turnpike; Washington members—Profes
sors Henry, Baird, Hilgard, Newcomb, Gill,
Schott, Fewell, Lane, Hayward and Dr Wood
ward, U. S. A.
The first subject considered was the “ Results
derived from an examination of the United States
weather maps for 1872- 74,” by Professor Loomis.
He explained graphically on the blackboard the
courses of storms, temperature, etc., which was
well received by his hearers.
Professor Hilgard expressed himself as being
much pleased with the explanations, particularly
that portion which related to the temperature.
Professor Guyot, J. P. Lesley and Professor
Henry’ made brief remarks on the subject. The
latter claimed, in regard to the temperature, that
a change must take place during a current from
all directions. A current from the north, ming
ling with that from the south, might give a colder
temperature. He spoke in the highest terms of
the investigations made by Professor Loomis,
and thought the whole subject was one of great
importance.
The Smithsonian Institution is busily working
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
“Countess” (Atlanta) says: “Several have
been disputing as to whether Mary, Queen of
Scots, had dark hair and dark eyes or light hair
and light eyes. Please tell us in the next issue
of The Sunny South if you possibly can. ” . . .
We believe most if not all the accounts represent
her as a beautiful blonde.
regard as a friend—no one to whom we may
you see he actually does so. And the getting off ; re sort in times of adversity no one to whom we i out the results of the twenty years investigation
may feel perfectly free to confide the dearest
secret of our hearts, and expect sympathy in the
sometimes from his poor horse, and taking exer
cise, and seeing new things, benefit his health
and do him good in other ways, and make him
feel that, poor and sickly’ as he is, he is not near
so bad off in those ways as some other persons.
Don’t you see what a great thing such a hope is
to poor Mr. White ?”
I thought I did, and said so.
“Well,” continued my father, “nobody ought
to take it from him if it can be avoided.’ Now,
if you had a house of your own, and Mr. White
were to come to y’ou, and after spending the
night, ask you, upon leaving next day’, your bill,
you would answer—nothing. Is that so ? Yes.
Well, now, don’t you see that such an answer as
that would show Mr. White that you noticed how
poor and sickly he was, and that you had no
idea but that he would be poor and sickly as
long as he lived? In that case, such a noticing
of his poverty and weakness might hurt this
hope of Mr. White and make it weaker. I do
not say that it certainly would, but that it might.
This is what we must not do if we can help it,
and at the same time not be guilty of deceit or
falsehood. I never say to Mr. White that I think
he will ever be any other sort of a man than a
poor one; that would be wrong, because it would
be false. But as I know he hopes and even ex
pects to be in a better way some time, and as
this hope, in my opinion, does him more good
than harm (if any harm at all), and as I cannot
say what Providence, who gives and who takes
away, may not give to him before he dies, I sim
ply try to show him, when he is with me, that I
have as much respect for his feelings as I have
for the feelings of any other man who comes to
of the subject, which will soon be ready fpr pub
lication.
On the secon,d day of the session, President
trials and sorrows of life. Noiselessly we move ! Barnard read a most scholarly paper on the sub-
along the broad arena of the world, taking but j e °t embraced in the following resolutions which
little part in the busy scenes and hum-drum of
the clamorous concourse. Why should we ! No
one takes any interest in what we do or say.
Wherever we go, if noticed at all, it is only to
hear taunting reproaches flung at us, and our
“ leaden, downcast looks ” are made objects of
derision and scorn by those who little divine the
real cause of the sorrow to which that care-worn
visage is but too faithful an index. It is there
fore with an aching heart that we witness the
exuberant affections and joyful greetings of
others—not that we would deprive them of one
ray of the sunshine that goes to make up their
happiness, for we are not disposed to pine at
their joy, but merely to deplore our own misfor
tune.
he submitted:
Besolved, That in the opinion of the National
Academy of Science, an international bureau of
weights and measures is an instrumentality
practically indispensable for the. complete and
satisfactory accomplishment of the important
objects for which the international commission
of 1870 and 1872 was convened, viz: the perpet
uation unaltered forever of the basis units of the
metric system of weights and measures; the con
struction, verification and distribution to the
different nations of authenticated copies of the
prototype standards representing those units;
the recomparison of such copies hereafter; the
construction and verification of new copies for
the uses of scientific bodies, and of other organ
izations and individuals engaged in the conduct
Yet how many of us may feel perfectly secure j G f important public works, or in the grand oper
in the pledges of those whom we designate by
the common appellation of friends ? How many
are there who, if their masks were thrown aside,
would not be found our deadliest enemies ? If
all mercenary motives were excluded from their
protestations, how many would there be who
would say, as did Peter, “I never knew this
man,” or woman, as the case may be ? It was
Young who said—
“ A friend is worth all hazards we can run;”
and then quotes the couplet:
" Poor is the friendless master of a world;
ations of international commerce; and finally
for the preservation and proper care of the valu
able apparatus and instruments employed in
such constructions and comparisons.
Besolved, That it is eminently desirable that
our country should participate in the honor of
maintaining any institution destined hereafter
to exercise an influence so beneficial to the
material interests of the human race by securing
that exactness in the determination of qualities
which is so essential to the success of human
calculations, and that precision in the results
of scientific investigation, without which pro-
A world in purchase for a friend is gain;”— ___
my house, and while there behaves himself w hich shows that the poet was alive to the fact j gress beyond a certain rudely defined limit is
right. And I tell you that I do respect him as 1 the existence of true friendship is exceed- impossible, and that the President of the United
ingly rare. But these purchased friends are the
most numerous, and alu’ays the least reliable. A
lack of friends commonly follows adversity.
Never sacrifice truth and honesty for the brittle
ties of friendship. Better to live and die friend
less than to know that you had compromised
your honor for those who w’ould have deserted
you when denounced by the world, and w’hen
their aid w’as most needed.
much as any other man who is no better than
he is, though he may be richer or greater, When
he is about to go away, and asks me for his bill,
I answer him exactly as I answer other men.
With a man like him, this is the best way in
which I can show him that I do respect him.
He does not pay the bill, but he probably ex
pects to pay it before he dies. He sees that I
am satisfied by his promise, and no doubt that
makes him feel a little better and stronger—a
little better and stronger, sir. Do you see, sir?
Do you see?” and he laid his hand heavily but
fondly upon my shoulder.
I was pleased, and supposed that the subject
would now be dismissed. We passed in among
the fruit trees, he occasionally subduing a redun
dant twig or placing a prop to one that the north
winds had bent. After some time, he turned
suddenly upon me and said:
“Philemon, suppose you were poor Mr.
White. ”
I shuddered.
“Yes, suppose you were a poor, sickly man
named Mr. White. And then suppose you were
to be traveling along, like this one, in order to
visit a brother who was much better to do than
you were,—for I tell you none are so proud of
having wealthy relations as the very poorest. It
makes little matter how they are treated by them.
In this case, I suppose that the rich man treats
his brother shabbily, because I always notice
that he is more sad on the return than on the
going. Still, I have no right to judge any man.
But suppose you were just this man, and then
suppose you hoped that some day you might be
in as good condition as your worthy brother, or
at least in better fortune than now. Well, you
stopped for the night at the house of a gentleman,
and the next morning, you asked for your bill.
Suppose he were to say to you, ‘Mr. White,
you need not pay me anything; I know from
your very looks that you are too poor to pay me.
[For The Sunny South.]
MESSAGE OF LOVE TO SOUTHERN MASONS.
About a year after the surrender of the Con. !
federate armies, I found myself wandering in !
one of the Northern States, on a matter of busi- |
ness. Having stopped for the night in a town j
of a few thousand inhabitants, I was feeling
quite lonely among strangers, to whom my gray <
clothes betrayed my “rebel” character, when a
messenger arrived, inviting me to attend a 1
special meeting of the lodge, called to extend to j
me a fraternal greeting.
Of course I went, and being called upon to j
give an account of Southern Masons, I did so, j
and heard in return the state of Northern Ma- ,
sonrv. After some time spent in pleasant fra
ternal work and intercourse, the Master re- .
quested me to bear from Northern Masons a '
message of love to Southern Masons: “That not
withstanding the war between the States, in
which they were arrayed in arms against their
brethren of the mystic tie—notwithstanding all
the ravings of fanaticism, all the influences of
States be accordingly respectfully solicited to
ratify the assent which is understood to have
been provisionally by his diplomatic represent
ative in Paris to the creation of such bureau,
and to recommend to Congress to make the nec
essary provisions to defray such portion of the
expense attending its maintainance as may fall
to our share.
ftesolved, That a copy of these resolutions, au
thenticated by the signature of the proper offi
cers of the academy, be forwarded to the Presi
dent of the United States.
Action on the report was held over.
The next paper submitted was by Professor
Guyot, “ Orography of the Catskill Group of
Mountains.” These were explained by drawings,
which were gotten up in masterly style. The
Slide Mountains, Strong Clove, Mink Hollow,
Schohazar, Esopus, Platelkill and Canterskill j ;
creeks were plainly shown and explained.
Professor Newcomb of the National Observa
tory submitted an article on the Transit of
Venus which showed him to be a man of close
discrimination and extensive research.
On the last day of the meeting the first paper
“ Alfalfa” (White Plains) says: “If a gentle
man is walking with a young lady and her shoe
comes untied, would there be anv impropriety
if she asked you to tie it or in your asking her
to let you tie it ?” . . . Either would be exceed-
ingly improper. The young lady who could see
no impropriety in your tieing her shoe would
not see any in allowing you to tie or buckle i.er
garter. Should she ask you to tie either, you
should positively decline, and thus give her a
lesson in politeness and good-breeding.
O. _D. S. asks: “Do you think it objectionable
for girls to stand at the front gate and converse
with young gentlemen who are taking their
evening walk ?” . . . If the meeting at the gate
should be accidental, there would be no impro
priety in it; but to meet there purposely for a
chat, and with an understanding to that effect,
would be imprudent, and lay young ladies liable
“to be talked about.” They cannot be too par
ticular, for critics’ evil eyes are ever on them,
and very slight things have often done great in
jury to female character.
“Daisy Dean” (Ellaville) asks: “Who is ‘Carl
Crisp,’ that wrote the piece, ‘Money vs. Love;
or, In Love With a Married Woman ?’ Has he
ceased writing for your paper ? And if so, can’t
you induce him to write again ? I like his
writing splendid. Don’t you think he has loved
a married woman himself? I hate to think so,
' for I am half in love with Carl, and mean to tell
him so if I can find out his name.” . . . Carl
| Crisp is a promising young lawyer of Southwest
1 Georgia, and we shall doubtless publish another
1 story from him before a great while.
“ Alexis” (Warrenton) says: “Is it etiquette
for a young lady to go to church with a gentle
man vailed — that is, when she is beautiful
and charming and the weather exceedingly
pleasant?” . . . We think that should be left
optional with the young lady. As wearihg the
vail over the face is fashionable, it is no breach
of etiquette for her to wear it to church. But
we rather incline to the opinion that if she is
pretty she should not wear it unless it be very
thin; but if she is ugly, she should wear it by
all means, and a very thick one.
“Old Sock” (Bamburg, S. C.) says: “I am in
love with a girl about seventeen years of age,
and a perfect beauty she is, too, but have not
told her of my love, for I have been afraid to
for fear of having my apple-cart turned over and
spoil the whole concern. I have hinted it to her
several times, but I am afraid she concluded it
was too thin. Now, I want to know how to gain
her affections.” . . . Easiest thing in the world.
By sincere devotion and an earnest avowal of
the tender emotions, it is a very easy matter to
make a young woman think seriously, and if she
comes to the conclusion that you are worthy, she
will be very slow to upset the apple-cart.
Rena Fay (Macon) asks: “Can you tell me
why some people always manage to ‘ get out of
mischief’ as fast as they get in it? Two of my
friends, Willie G and Maud F , of the
Wesleyan Female College, always manage to
have fun, and yet are never detected by Dr.
Bass.” . . . Perhaps Willie and Maud are too
sharp for the Doctor. It is very difficult to
catch smart mice, and mischievous boys and
girls are usually smarter than steel-traps. But
after awhile they generally get trapped, for suc
cess makes them bold and careless, and before
they know it they are in limbo and up a tree.
Willie and Maud must look out, for the Doctor
is also smart, and he will have them soon.
P. J. (Newnan) says: “I am just sweet sixteen
and am engaged to a young man two years my
senior. He vows that he loves me devotedly,
but I think it is all on the surface, for he has
been visiting and showing marked attention to
another for three long months. Shall I release
him, or shall I wait and see what he will do
next ? I come to j*>u for advice, and hope you
will give it, as I am in a most distressing state
of mind.”. . . Preserve your dignity and guard
your young heart with a jealous care. If he is
not in earnest, it is better for you to know it
now than later in life. Make no exhibition of
any affection for him, but as you say, wait and
see what he will do next. You are young, and
if he loves the other one best, you can stand it.
He is doubtless a wicked flirt, and if so, is un
worthy of your love.
L. B. O. (Loachapoka, Alabama,) says: “Please
inform us, through your column of ‘Answers
to Correspondents,’ who Mrs. M. E. Bryan is.
Where is Mrs. M. J. Westmoreland?—and why
don’t she have something to say in The Sunny
South? How is the title of W. D. Trammell’s
novel, ‘ Ca Ira,’pronounced?” . . . Mrs. Bryan
is a daughter of Major John D. Edwards, of
! Florida. Since the war, she has been residing
! in Louisiana, but is now, we hope, a permanent
j citizen of Atlanta. Mrs. Westmoreland is in this
! city, and for several months has been confined
} to her room by severe inflammatory rheumatism.
She had intended to write something occasion-
read was, “Researches in Solar Physics, made at ; ally for The Sunny South, but her health has
party, and all the fraternal blood that had been
shed’, no coldness had touched the hearts of j with well-prepared drawings and plates from
Northern Ylasons. Thev felt as brethren still.” work prepared from the Geological Survey
so poor a horse could travel over so many miles j A°u cannot pay me now. You are too sickly
in the year. “Yonder comes poor Mr. White,’
I and the little negroes used to say when we
to work, and of course you will never be able to
get the money to pay hereafter; therefore you
would see him ri.ling slowly up the grove to- ; ^ ee< ^ n °tf*sk what your bill is. It is nothing.
wards the gate. It was long since he had ceased
asking permission to stay. After dismounting
at the block, and hitching the bridle over the
horse-shoe on one of the oaks, he would walk
into the house, and after merely bidding good
evening in a low voice, take his seat.
Mr. White was so uninteresting a guest that
we could seldom get a word from him. He
I never charge such men as you anything. I
thank God that I am not a poor man myself, and
that I am in good health. Therefore, make your
self easy about the bill, Mr. White. You are
welcome to come always to my house, when you
are traveling this way:—that is, if you think you
can ever make the trip again: and you shall find
food and lodging for yourself and your horse.
we couia seiaom get a worn irom mm. ne | ,—7 e—o - . j ““—— j
said little even upon his own infirmities, a sub- j ,t sa > anything about the bill, because
ject about which I have frequently observed that ; can * it, and I don t want it from you.
in Lie AnmlJtinn nrd flnpnt in liiscmiTfip HOW WOUld SUCh
I was charged to disabuse Southern Masons of
false impressions, and as I had seen and heard,
I should teach my brethren at home to know the
real state of sincere frat unity felt by them.
Not satisfied with this, all unsolicited and un
expectedly, as I was taking the train to return, a
committee met me and bade me farewell, with re
grets at parting; made me take a complimentary
ticket over their railroad to the city, and a sum
of money’ to buy’ a memento of my visit to their
lodge, i refused both in vain; I was compelled
to accept, or offend those kind stranger friends.
As the smile of love most adorns the face of a
maiden, so doth the smile of universal benevo
lence beautify the countenance of Masonry, the
handmaiden of Religion. Hiram.
persons in his condition are fluent in discourse,
even with strangers. He usually sat for an hour
after supper, listening with vague interest to our
conversations among ourselves, and then, but
never until a suggestion thereto had been made
by one or the other of my parents, retired to
bed.
On the m*rning when Ylr. White was about to
leave and proceed on his journey, the following
dialogue invariably passed between him and my
father:
Mr. White.—“ What is mv bill?”
Father.—“One dollar.”
Mr. White.—“I will pay you when I come
again.”
Father.—“That will do just as well. I can
wait."
Mr. White.—“Well, a good mornin’ to you.”
Fbiher.—“Good morning, Mr. White.”
Thev shook hands, a ceremony he never used
with my mother and myself. He nodded his
head to us, went out and rode slowly away.
Mr. White.'
as that sound in vour ears,
He looked down at toe. and I looked up at him.
He noticed the indignation I felt and smiled.
He continued:
“ But suppose the good man of the house were
not so rude as all that. Suppose he were to say
nothing about your poverty and your bad health,
but you could see that hie noticed both—your
torn and soiled clothes, your stiff and pained
limbs; and this, together with his silent refusal
to make any charge against you, made you lose a
part of your hoped-for better times because you
saw that he believed the hope to be a vain one,
and you knew that the reason why he made no
charge was because of your poverty; and when
you promised to pay him hereafter, you should
be made to feel, by his looks, that he not only
did not believe that you would ever do so, but
did not think you would ever be able to come 1
back any more; and then you had to mount
Didn't Want Her Found.—A resident of Beau-
bien street called at the Central Station the other
day to relate the fact that his wife had run away.
“Well, we’ll try and arrest her,” replied the ser
geant, after hearing the particulars of the case.
“That wasn't what I came for!” said the man,
with a disappointed look. “I want to have the
detectives keep her on the run.”
the Alleghany Observatory during the past five
years, ” by S. P. Langly.
Professor Henry expressed himself as highly
gratified with the explanation of the subject,
and that it was one in which he was deeply in
terested. Professor Langly deserved the high
est commendation, of the academy and of the
country.
The next paper was on the relations of “ Some
of our Ancient Fossil Fishes to Living Forms,” by
J. S. Newberry.
Professor Newberry demonstrated his subject
the
of
Ohio. He showed that in America there have
been discovered peculiar forms of fishes, the
same as found in other countries.
Dr. Gill made a few remarks on the subject.
He, together with Professor Newberry, certainly
explained their subject to their own satisfaction,
but from the looks and uneasiness of the audi
ence they’ could not get the big words used by
the learned professors through their brains. It
was no wonder that such species of fish as din-
ichthys, lepidosiren, ceratodus and depterus are
nearly extinct, and but few of them were in this
country.
Professor Newberry took another tack, and
tried his best to get ahead of Dr. Gill, and he
threw out his knowledge of the cockocksteo dor-
semedina plate in the most successful manner.
not permitted her to do so. “Calra" is pro
nounced as if spelled sa era, giving the a in sa
the same sound as in father.
J. L. B. (Sandhill) says: “I have formally
paid my respects to a certain young lady’ of
my’ acquaintance, whom I love with all my heart,
and the last time I met her, which was New
Year’s day, I spoke words to that effect, and
she only told me she esteemed me as highly as
any’ gentleman of her acqaintance. But that did
not give me satisfaction, and now I want to call
on her again. Knowing as I do that you are
well posted on such questions, I want your ad
vice as to how I shall proceed:” . . . When a
lady tells a young gentleman that she esteems
him as highly as any gentleman of her acquaint
ance, she expresses herself in very strong lan
guage, and he should not press her for any
stronger terms. He is assured of the fact that
he has at least an equal chance with all others to
gain her affections, and he has only to be in
earnest and show himself worthy.
“Puella” (La Grange) writes: “A gentleman
nearly double my age has been a constant visitor
at our house several years. We are friends—
good friends. He sometimes accompanies me
to church and other places. He tells me often
that he never expects to marry. Now, it is ru
mored that he and I are to be married and gen
erally believed. I am quite tired of this report.
The next paper was read by Mr. Wm. McMur- . I f e: ‘r it is injuring my prospects otherwise; but
trie, of the Agricultural Department, on “ The as this gentleman is a staunch friend to my par-
influence of Arsenical Compounds on Yegeta-
tion.”
On invitation of the President of the academy,
ents, and has ever been from my childhood, I
feel a delicacy in refusing to go with him. At
the same time, I am anxious to have this rumor
“Listen !” said a sensitive bather to a bathing
attendant. “If I am to be drowned, or nearly
so, I want it to be distinctly understood that I
am not to be stood on my head or rolled on a
barrel, or any such ridiculous exhibitions made
of me. If I can't be revived without any of
those performances, I prefer to be left alone.”
Professor Shelden J. Coffin, of the Lafayette hushed. Now, tell me what to do. Go with him
College, Pa., read a communication, numerously and hear this rumor, or refuse and risk losing
illustrated by charts, in reference to the “Winds his friendship r” . . . Your trouble is perhaps
of the Globe,” the posthumous production of his the most serious of any yet laid before us, and
member of the are really at a loss to determine as to the best
course for you to pursue. Your situation is a
father, Dr. James H. Coffin,
society, lately deceased. _ _ _
Professor Wo Ok off made remarks on Professor delicate one. If you go with him, they say you
lomis' paper on temperature, published in the are engaged; and if you refuse to go, you lose
Loomis x ^ , .
American Journal gf Science, after which the acad- his friendship,
eroy adjourned until next November.
Now, the gentleman himself
should understand the dilemma you are in, and
A married man residing on Madison avenue
was roused from his sleep the other night by
fancying that there was a brass band operating
in his bed-room; but upon investigation, it was
your poor horse and go away feeling poorer and I found that his wife had blessed him with twins.
The officers of the academy are: President, - it argues a want of sagacity on his part not to
Professor Joseph Henry, Smithsonian Institu- have seen it long since. Your better plan will be
retary, F. A. P. Barnard, President of Columbia
College, New York.
As “he never intends to marry,” he could not’
take exceptions to this course on your part.