native tongue always in speaking to Marie. Mad
ame Cavadeale, the widow of a Huguenot minis
ter, taught her (as a daily governess) music, the
modern languages, drawing and painting; for
the rest she was indebted to her father.
Marie was sixteen years of a^e when the great
sorrow of her life (her father’s death) took place.
He died of heart disease, without one moment’s
warning, and the shock to poor Marie was very
great. Judge Howard had lost, by the events of
the war, the bulk of his property: so at his
death, when Mrs. Howard came to the front, she
dismissed the governess and all the servants ex
cept her maid, sent Lillie off to boarding-school,
for, she said, she knew if any good luck ever
came into the family, it would come through
Lillie, who she felt certain would make a splen
Since her father's death, Marie’s life had been
one dead level. Mrs. Howard felt that every
thing bestowed on her was taken from her dar
ling. and Marie quietly submitted to her moth
er's will. The only communication she had with
the outer world was through Harry, who used to
write regularly to her twice a week, and kept
4er au fait of all that was going on. He also
came to see her twice a year; and these visits
were eras in Marie’s calendar; she dated to and
But it was all over. He had stopped writing
evbr since his acquaintance with .Julia Wilmot,
and now he was going to stop his visits. Her
heart was very heavy, but while he was with her,
with woman’s devotion, she resolved to put her
own griets out of the way, and make him happy
if she could.
As soon as she knew he was up, she went in
and invited him up to refresh himself.
“You will find hot and cold water, and if
there is anything else you need, I will be happy
to wait upon you,” she said.
When she closed the door, Hand’s quick eye
took a general survey of the room, which was
a miracle of neatness and artistic taste. The
book-shelves were poplar boards strung on wire,
separated by empty spools, the whole stained to
imitate rosewood, and were of Marie’s own man
ufacture. So were the hanging shelves, brack
ets, lambrequins, catch-alls, and a hundred
other little knic-knacks. Ivy festooned the win
dows. and exquisite pasteles adorned the walls.
“Marie seems reflected in everything in this
room,” Harry said. “Her own pure life is so
beautiful that everything she touches becomes
A tap at the door and Marie’s voice summon
ing him to breakfast roused him from his rev
As he took his seat at the table, with Marie
sitting opposite, looking so daintily fresh in her
white dress and blue ribbons, he said:
“Cousin Marie, what a household treasure
you are! I do wonder if God will give me such
a woman for my wife?”
"Harry, God will not give you a wife. He
gives all men sense enough to discern the true
from the false, and if you persist in using only
your eyes and not your common sense when you
are searching for a wife, it is not God’s fault if
you make a terrible blunder. If you want a
household treasure, as you say, don’t hunt for
her in a ball-room. You might take a hint from
our storekeepers. When they want to sell ball
room materials, they exhibit them in a room
lighted with gas; for, as my favorite poetess
[For The Sunny South.]
BY HARRY LEIGH.
After the loving, came the wooing,
The marriage, the giving, and taking;
After the wedding, came love’s undoing,
And sorrow, and love’s forsaking.
After the sorrow, came the healing,
The shroud, and the singing, and sighing;
After the shrouding, came love's appealing—
A strong man's passionate crying.
[For The Sunny South.]
A Postmaster’s Experience.
BY MILTON T. ADKINS.
I was once postmaster in the village of Slab-
town. I doubt your finding the place laid down
upon any authentic map, were you to examine
with a microscope, and yet I do assure you Slab-
town had a bona fide existence in the post-office
The office of which I was the honored incum
bent did not pay a salary upon which one could
go into bankruptcy with very flattering pros
pects; yet I soon discovered that whatever of
my net profits was lacking in worldly lucre, I
could make up in edifying experiences. Some
of these have left indelible pictures in my mem
ory, and I often smile to myself as they rise be
fore me through the smoke of my favorite meer
First among them, comes to mind the long,
lank, sandy-haired youth who came in one morn
ing just after I had assumed the duties of the
office, and staring at me, put the query:
“Mister Postmaster, is there any letter here
for any of the Bennetts ?”
I looked in the “B” box, and informed him
there was none.
“ Is there anything for any of the Smiths?”
“Anything for any of the Browns?”
“Anything for any of the Coopers?”
“Anything for Tom Bennett?”
“Anything for John Bennett?”
“Anything for Jim Bennett?”
“Anything for Susan Bennett?”
“Anything for Jane Bennett?”
After exhausting the names of the Bennett
family, he took up the Browns, the Smiths and
the Coopers, calling out each name in each fam
ily. This scene was often repeated, with varia
tions in numbers and names; but after the nov
elty wore off, there was no variation in the annoy
ance it caused me.
Then I remember the customer who would
come in and attempt to drive a bargain in the
purchase of stamps. He would begin something
after this style:
“ Mister, can you let me have two stamps for a
He was informed that I could not.
"What! won't fall one pent on two stamps?”
“ Can’t do it. Two stamps are worth just six
“ ’■ Colors seen by gaslight are not the same by day.’ "
(CONCLUDED IN NEXT NUMBER.)
(For The Sunny South.J
BY L. L. V.
The good old Vicar of Wakefield tells us that
though his wife prided herself much on being a
good manager, he had never found himself to
grow any rioher because of her management.
We suppose this was said more for the purpose
of making a pointed sentence than of telling a
truth; for certainly so shrewd an observer as
Goldsmith must have known, even if he were a
bachelor, that a careful, thrifty wife who looks
with keen eye over the res doini, and who always
takes care that every penny shall bring its pen
ny’s worth, will assuredly make her husband
richer, though she may not always make him
happier. Political economists are agreed that it
is by saving more than by producing that wealth
is accumulated, and this matter.of saving de
volves mostly upon the wife. In most cases, it
depends upon her whether the whole income
shall be expended, or whether something shall
be laid up for a rainy day. If economy be the
creed, she must practice it. She is the commit
tee of the family on the larder and the wardrobe.
She must determine whether upon those two
items of food and raiment the fourth, the half or
the whole of her husband’s income be expended,
or whether he occupy the very unpleasant but
not very uncommon position of living beyond
his means, which, in plain English, means liv
ing on somebody else. Considered in a mon
etary point of view, the “good wife” is no un
But we would not give a woman credit for
being a good manager solely because she ena
bles her husband to place the larger figures on
the credit side of his ledger. Many do this, and
do it at the tax of so much patience that the har-
rassment of debt would be more endurable. Their
way is that of hurry and bustle, and they keep
themselves and all about them in an element of
fret and worry. Like Mrs. Povser, they insist
upon having their “say out” on most topics,
and unfortunately, their tongues have less the
quality of salves than of blisters. They seem to
think of management as Brigham Young does of
marriage,—that the more they do of it the better,
and consequently they manage everything from
the cat up to their husbands. It would be un
just to class these as shrews. They are simply
women with a passion for ruling—Elizabeth
Tudors in private life, who base their claim to
govern upon the assumption that they know
how to govern well. They certainly succeed in
making all within their domain feel who is the
There are, however, “keepers at home” who
are efficient and yet not fussy. They can do
things well and do them quietly. With that
agreeable tact—which, in a woman, is ten-fold
more desirable than talent—they can control all
the members of their household without letting
them know they are controlled. In this system
there is no hurry and no delay. Everything
about the house moves like well-oiled machin ery.
The meals come as regularly and as quietly as if
they were turned out by an automatic stove.
The beds seem to readjust themselves, and the
dust takes itself away in some unaccountable
manner. Even the “cleaning-up days.” which
are the horrid nightmares of many a poor bene
dict. are gotten over without leaving the impres
sion that a cyclone had just passed. Such
women deserve to be called "good managers.
They create homes in the full sense of that sweet
word. When the husband comes weary from
the plow, the plane or the ledger, he finds in
this love-lighted spot rest for body and spirit.
Would each of our fair maidens like that the
house over which she does or may preside should
be such a house as this ? W ell, it may be so.
Cultivate vour heart. Learn to be patient Do
not be in a hurry, and do not bluster if all
things do not move as swiftly and harmoniously
as you may desire. Let peace be the one end
aimed at before all other considerations.
> My face is rugged, but I'm healthy; will you
>" sa id he. “Yes, indeed, it’s knotty,
s nice,” said she.
“But, Mister, I think you might fall one
! I would explain to him why I could not.
“Well, give me one stamp, then, and the
! change. How long before they’ll get cheaper, I
After making this heavy investment and caus-
I ing a deal of trouble, he would depart, grum
bling about the stinginess of the post-office.
Then there was the old lady with spectacles
and a blue umbrella. The first time she came
| into the office, she asked:
“Is there any letter here for me, sir?”
As it was my first experience with her, I was
obliged to ask her name.
As I had only a few moments before looked
for all of the Smiths which a long-winded youth
could remember, I told her there was none, witli-
6ut getting up and going through the form of a
search. But she was not to be put off in any
" such manner, for she made answer:
“See here, young man ! you hain’t looked for
it. You’re paid a big salary to lean back at your
j ease and do nothing. I’ll thank you to git up
' and look for that letter.”
I saw that discretion was the better part of
valor, and complied with her gentle request.
Of course I found nothing, and so informed the
old lady again. But she seemed still disposed
to contest the point.
“I know there must be a letter here for me.
Y’ou’ve got it lost. Look in them other boxes.”
My patience was nearly exhausted; but, to
avoid a scene, I took out all the letters before
her eyes, and again announced “Nothing.”
The old lady went away, muttering and grum-
I bling that she would “sue the post-office if they
1 did not find that letter.”
Another character with whom I had to deal
was the man who wanted stamps on credit. He
opened fire something after this fashion:
“Mister, can you let me have a few stamps on
a credit ?”
I would explain that I could not—that the
stamps belonged to the Government, and that
the Government wouldn’t trust.
“But I’ll pa} - you next week. My face is good
for a few stamps, ain’t it ?”
I hadn’t noticed his face before. The hasty
glance which I now bestowed upon him con
vinced me that the Government was right.
“I cannot let them go that way, my friend.”
Another troublesome customer was an old
farmer who came in and wanted to send two
dollars and fifty cents to the Mountain Bugle. I
hastened to serve him; but when I gave him his
receipt, he raised an objection.
“See here, Mister ! this paper don’t state how
much money I am sendin’. ”
“It is in the usual form.”
‘ ‘ I don’t care if it is; I want a receipt for my
money. These post-offices is dang’rous, and I
want my money to go safe.”
“It will be all right now, sir.”
“Can I git it back if it’s lost or stole?”
“Yes, if you can find the thief.”
“But, Mister, I want a receipt that will hold
this office responsible if the money is lost.”
As I declined to give any other than the one I
had, he finally concluded to send the money
and “ resk it.”
Again, I remember the customer who never
received a letter, and who, in my humble opin
ion. ne rer expected any, but who came twice or
thrice a week and demanded:
“Anything in the office for me to-day?”
“But you hain’t looked.”
It was useless to explain to him that he had
grown to be such a nuisance, and was so contin
ually in my mind, that I would remember such
an extraordinary event as a letter coming in his
name. Nothing would satisfy this customer ex
cept a search before his eyes.
“I was expectin’ a letter, and I thought maybe
it had come last mail.”
It is my solemn belief that he never expected
anything of the kind, and that he uttered a de
liberate falsehood every time that he came to
the office. He never sent any letters, and I
don’t believe that he had a relative, in all the
wide world, who could write his or her name.
When ordinary experiences began to grow stale,
my office duties were enlivened by an extraordi
The fourteenth of February was near at hand,
and the goddess of discord put it into the head
of Dobbins, the chief shopkeeper of .Slabtown,
to order a large assortment of comic valentines—
hideous red and yellow daubs, conveying flings
at every kind of folly and weakness. This kind
of thing was new to Slabtown. and as it ap
pealed to the universal spitefulness of human
nature, it proved a grand investment for Dob
bins. Everybody made secret purchases of
comic valentines, and in a little while the whole
| stock was bought out. The day before St. Val-
j entine’s. Dobbins, chuckling and rubbing his
j hands, assured me I would have a lively time at
| the post-office next day.
The day’s history of mishaps opened bright
and early next morning by the advent of Miss
Samantha Buggs, a tall, raw-boned spinster,
who stalked into the office and asked for letters.
I handed her a thick envelope, which she opened
at once, when out dropped the picture of a hid
eous. wrinkled old damsel kissing a horrid-
Miss Samantha muttered an exclamation of
wrath, and approaching me, thrust the paper
into my face.
“Who sent that thing?” she demanded, in a
voice that reminded me of Anna Dickinson when
she yells at “Jen Dark,” supposed to be asleep
in the tower.
“Beally, ma’am, I don’t know, to save me?” I
hastily exclaimed; and I’m bound to confess
that I dodged.
“Well, I know, and I’m a-going to make her
pay for it, too. It wasn’t a soul but that old
pursy Dorothy Jones. She come nigh mashing
my poor Fido’s tail to sausage-meat with her
number six foot, and got mad because I gave
her a piece of my mind. I’ll make her pay for
this—the spiteful old cat.”
She had barely delivered this exhortation,
when the veritable Dorothy herself stood in the
door. She looked at the enemy a few moments in
grim silence, and then, turning to me, demanded
her “mail.” Although my knees quaked for the
result, I handed her a couple of epistles. With
eager hand, she tore the envelopes and devoured
the contents, keeping one eye on the adversary.
“Y’ou sent me that!” said she, as she brand
ished her umbrella with one hand, while with
the other she held the obnoxious paper under
the enemy’s nose.
“You sent me that!'" replied Samantha, as
she held aloft the picture which had so excited
“ ’Tain’t so !” returned the excited Dorothy.
“It’s just like you!” squeaked Dorothy, as
she pushed the paper further in the enemy’s
“And this is just the picture of you !” squealed
“ I’ll sue you for slander !” screamed Dorothy.
“And Il’l have you up for’sault and battery !” j
“Y'ou will, hey?” and the fair Dorothy made
a grab for the enemy’s back hair.
“Leggo, you old fossil!” screamed Samantha, i
“I’ll pull all the hair off your head if you don’t.” \
“I don’t wear false hair like you !” returned j
“You do !” shouted Samantha.
“ You do!”
“If you had your crwn teeth, you could talk
better!” said Dorothy.
“If you had two good eyes, you could see |
better !” returned the other.
It was more than either could bear. They
made a desperate grab, which resulted in the
utter demolition of two chignons, one umbrella, j
four comic valentines, and various other articles j
too numerous to mention.
I was about to interpose and command the
peace, when the belligerents suddenly ceased of j
their own accord, and after a moment’s repair- J
After this lively commencement, I was just
contemplating the feasibility of flight to the
mountains, when others of the villagers began i
to arrive. In the course of an hour, all the loaf- ;
ers in the place were congregated in my office.
Each had his hand full of comic valentines, and
[For The Sunny South.]
TO THE GOOD TEMPLARS.
BY H. E. SHIPLEY.
Ages ago. when Art was young
And Science scarce had birth.
In clarion notes a tocsin rung
O’er all the Christian earth.
“To arms!'* it called, “ye chieftains bold,
Ye serfs of low degree;
Ye kings of men, both young and old,—
Crusaders all be ye!
Wrest from the Turk the sacred cave
That held the Nazarene:
Keep from polluting touch that grave,—
On. on to Palestine!”
With quick response, in numerous bands,
Each eager for a part,
O’er treacherous waves and burning sands
Followed the Lion-Heart.
Crusaders of this later day!
A nobler cause, I ween,
Have ye, than led in brave array
That ho6t to Palestine.
Immortal souls from deadlier foe
Thau Turk or Arab lance,
Ye seek to win,—oh! be it so!—
That foe, Intemperance,
We suffer, then embrace, ’tis said.
Shall he then roam at large—
This monster of the hydra-head ?
On, Templars, to the charge!
Death to this dread, insidious foe,
Your watchword ever be—
With willing bands and hearts aglow,
Free men and dear country.
Brave Templars in this blest crusade,
Unfurl your banners free;
Your pagans shout thro’ heaven's arcade—
High notes of victory,
Which, sounding down the years of men,
A guerdon meet shall be
Till Time is o’er, re-echoing then
Through all eternity!
Up, then, Crusaders! Such a meed
Were worth a life-long fight.
Shall Slander have a moment’s heed
While ye battle for the right?
Feel not Sirocco breaths of scorn;
Turn Sarcasm’s keenest lance
With Truth’s strong mail. At eve, at morn,
Strike hard for Temperance!
A Few Words to the Temperance People.
Nearly a year ago, several temperance organi
zations of Georgia adopted The Sunny South as
their official organ. VVe were pleased, and felt
highly complimented at this expression of confi
dence in our enterprise, coming, as it did, be
fore the first number had been issued. It greatly
strengthened our own faith, for it was the official
endorsement of a very large and respectable
portion of the people of the State, and we re
garded it as a tower of strength secured for our
young bantling. The leading men of the differ
ent temperance organizations were greatly elated
at the idea of having at last a popular and per
manent official organ through which to reach the
masses; and their wisdom in selecting a literary
or family paper, which had a fair promise of
going into every portion of the State, was uni
versally applauded. Our hopes were high.
From this source alone we anticipated a very
large support, and hoped the temperance cause
would receive a new impulse. Each lodge and
council, we supposed, would immediately order
a number of copies, and thus manifest their
readiness to encourage and support an official
as each were opened, roars of laughter and rid- i or g an . g 0 confident were we on this point, and
lcule burst forth, m which all lomed except the 1
. I cn an
unhappy recipient. He invariably taxed some
one present with sending it, and the result was
generally a quarrel and often a fight. During
the day, I counted thirteen quarrels, seven as
saults and battery, and some fifty mad men and
boys. Nor was the uproar confined to my little
room. The whole town seemed to be bv the
As I was going to my dinner, I was halted on
the sidewalk by old Mrs. Wiggles, who ran out
and demanded to know who had sent her “dar
ter that nasty, ugly valentine ?”
I hastened to explain that I knew nothing of
the authors of any of the mischief—that I had
found them in the box properly stamped, and
knowing nothing of their contents, they had
been distributed like other mail matter.
“Well, I don’t care who sent it,” continued
the old lady; “it’s a low, mean practice.”
I didn’t stop to argue with her on this point,
A little further on, I met my special and par-
I so anxious to have the paper well circulated
among the temperance people, that we laid be
fore them a most liberal proposition—putting it
to the lodges and councils at just about the cost
of publication. So great were our /expectations, j
that we requested the organizations to appoint
editing committees to assist us in making this
department fill the requirements of the cause. |
But in all these things we have been greatly
disappointed. Indeed, we did not suppose it
possible for people who profess to be interested
in any cause to manifest so little interest in an
official organ—in the mouth-piece of their Order.
Not a single lodge or council accepted our prop
osition. Our whole-souled Grand Worthy Chief
Templar. Thrower, who is always ready to show
his faith by his works, directed us to put down
ticular friend, Harry Strong, coming down the Georgia Lodge for the twenty copies, and stated
steps at the house of his lady-love. Faneyin_
he did not look as happy as a stray angel, I ac
“ Hallo, Hal! what’s the matter?”
“Matter enough,” said he gloomily. “It’s all
up with me in there,” indicating with a nod of
his head the house he had just left.
“Why, some confounded rascal has imitated
my writing, and has sent her a comic valentine.
It’s all up with me;” and the poor fellow passed
on, looking the very picture of woe.
Further on, I observed old Mrs. Smith and
Mrs. Johnson engaged in animated discussion
across a high fence.
I didn’t stop to listen, but caught enough on
the fly to convince me that they did not enter
tain the most profound respect for each other.
It all grew out of Mrs. Johnson's son Bob send
ing Matilda Jane a comic valentine. Said Matilda
Jane’s mother had taken the matter in high
dudgeon, and had come down to give “them
Johnsons a piece of her mini, anyhow.”
I heard of various other quarrels and fights
in different parts of the town. By night, the
place was thoroughly worked up. Even-body
was in a towering passion with everybody else.
Neighbors who had been on friendly terms be
fore wouldn’t speak to each other for weeks after
this unluekv day.
Training; for Society.
Madame de Genlis, in her course of training
for Parisian society, writes to a friend on this
subject, when the ordeal was passed:
“I had two teeth pulled out; I wore whale
bone stays which pinched me cruelly; my feet
were imprisoned in tight shoes in which it was
impossible to walk; I had three or four hundred
curl-papers in my hair at a time, and I wore, for
the first time in my life, a hoop. In order to get
rid of my country attitudes, I had an iron collar
placed around my neck, and, as I squinted at
times, I was obliged to put on a pair of goggles
as soon as I awoke in the morning, and those I
wore for hours. I was much surprised, more
over, when my friends talked of giving me a
master to teach me what I thought I knew—viz.,
how to walk. Besides all this training narrated
above, I was forbidden to skip, run, or ask ques
Don’t use soap. A Brooklyn editor says that
it communicates disease by being made of fat
taken from dead dogs and cats.
that if the lodge did not pay for them, he would.
Finding that the lodges and councils would not
accept that proposition, our brother Thrower
prepared a respectful card, asking each lodge to
take at least one copy of the paper and keep it on
file for the benefit of the members. We sent a
similar request to the councils of United Friends
of Temperance. To this card two lodges re
sponded, but no council. This satisfied us that
the temperance people did not appreciate an
organ, and that it was altogether useless for us
to spend time and money on that department of
the paper, and in consequence it has proved a
failure. Two or three lodges and two councils
have sent in small clubs of subscribers at the re
duced rates, and there may be a good many tem
perance men on our lists, but they were secured
by our regular traveling agents, and at a heavy
cost to the office.
This, then, is the true history of the support
which has been extended to our official organ by
our temperance people; and as they are soon to
meet again in Grand Lodge and Grand Council,
we have thought it proper to lay the facts before
them for their consideration. It is certainly a
discouraging report, and when the fact is added
that we have given them all the space required
free of charge, and placed the subscription price
at very nearly the cost of publishing the paper,
it argues but little for their liberality and appre
But there are some extenuating circumstances
in the case; and to these we give all due consid
eration. In the first place, the temperance peo
ple, like everybody else, have had no money
this year. It has been a struggle for very life.
The “meat and bread” question has proved an
all-absorbing one, and temperance folks have
had nothing to spare for papers. In the second
place, they have so often been humbugged and
so often lost their money in trying to support
temperance papers, that, like burnt children
who dread the fire, they are naturally cautious
and slow in making similar investments. These
are weighty considerations, and may be plead
with great force in the premises, and we are
willing to allow them all the weight to which
they are entitled. We are willing to put the
most liberal and reasonable construction upon
the whole matter, for we have been actuated by
no mercenary considerations. No one can ever
charge us with an attempt to make money out
of the temperance people, but we did expect
them to manifest at least a willingness to pay
cost or do something in behalf of an official organ
in return for the space allowed them.
Our most worthy brethren and efficient officers,
Hickman, Thrower, Robinson, Wynn, Searcy
and Cofer, have manifested much interest in
this important matter, and it has been to them
also a source of much regret and discouragement
at witnessing the indifference of the brethren.
We invite the attention of all concerned to this
statement of facts, and should the present rela
tion exist between this journal and the Grand
Lodge and temperance organizations of the State,
it must be upon a different basis.
BY MRS. A. P. HILL.
Delicious Summer Drink-.—Mash unripe grapes;
add water to make the juice a pleasant acid;
j sweeten well and freeze.
Corn Soup.—To a small hock-bone of ham, or
I slice of nice bacon, add a quart of water; as it
boils, skim until clear; add a large tea-cup and
a half of grated corn, one quart of sweet milk,
a tea-spoonful of butter into which has been
rubbed a heaped tea-spoonful of flour; salt and
pepper to taste.
Tomato Pillau.—Fry the fowl a light brown,
with an onion cut up in small pieces. Peel a
pint of tomatoes; shred fine; season with salt,
pepper, and a little sugar. When the fowl and
onion are of a light-brown color, take them up
and put in a stew-pan; add the tomatoes, and
cover well with hot water. Have in soak a pint
of rice; pour off the water from this and add It
to the chicken, stirring it in slowly. Green corn,
grated, may be used; a table-spoonful of butter,
salt and pepper; simmer gently until done; no
What Shall We do with Our Boys!
It is a wise provision of Providence that
nearly every boy has some peculiar capability—
some aptness for a paticular calling or pursuit;
and if he is driven into channels contrary to his
instincts and tastes, he is in antagonism with
nature, and the odds are against him. One of
the earliest and most anxious inquiries of par
ents should be directed to the discovery of the
leanings of their children, and fit them out in
the best way for rising in the profession of their
choice. Study to learn what they are capable of
! doing for themselves; aid them, encourage them
to do well whatever work is suited to their na
tures. Regard every calling as honorable the
labor of w-hieh is honorably performed. We
cannot alter the temperament or proclivities of
our boys, and it is folly to attempt it. Nature is
stronger than we are. We may for awhile hold
our boys in a false position by the power of
wealth, or other strong controlling influences,
| but when these fail, they fall at once to their
natural places in obedience to a law as irresisti-
J ble as that which Newton discovered in the fall
I of the apple.—Journal of Chemistry.
Says Peter Bayne: “There are books which
cultivate the intellect while they chill the heart;
books which one might imagine were produced
by a logical machine rather than a living man;
books which seem all fuel and no fire.” For my
part, I judge of the merits of a book or story by
its influence upon my spiritual nature. If I lay
it down with an earnest, heartfelt prayer to be a
better woman, to walk more constantly in the
light of God’s countenance,* to me it is a good
production, though in style and minor matters
it may be open to criticism. It has answered
the purpose which should be the object and
aim of all literary efforts.
Does it never happen in real life that a woman
richly endowed with Heaven’s best gifts, loves
with all her heart and soul a man unequal or
unworthy of her love, and to whose faults she is
blind ? Mrs. Jameson asks if this be true in na
ture, why not in Shakspeare and other creations ?
Bertram was not Helen’s equal. And yet in
many stories and works of fiction, this kind of
representation or conception is condemned as
an outrage upon nature. I am somewhat fond
of illustrating my statements by facts or fancies.
It would cost me to do tills from personal obser
vation, without recourse to books.
Trouble is like the ghost which tormented a
worthy family for years. The good wife conclu
ded to move to escape him. When the last load
of goods was on the way, a neighbor passed and
said: “So you are moving?” “Yes,” cried the
ghost, lifting from among the beds and pillows
his voice; “yes, we are all going.” All mala
dies of the spirit have wings, and fly with us
wherever we go. Is it true that every son and
daughter of Adam carries a skeleton in his
Men or women help make their own beauty or
ugliness. Every human being carries his life in
his face, and is good-looking or the reverse, as
his life has been good or evil. On our features
the fine chisel of thought is eternally at work.
There is a slow-growing beauty which only
comes to perfection in old age. Sweeter smiles
are often seen upon the lip of seventy than sev
Thackeray’s definition of a gentleman: “It is
to have lofty aims, to lead a pure life, to keep
your virgin honor, to have the esteem of your
fellow-citizens and the love of your fireside, to
bear good fortune meekly, to suffer evil with
constancy, and through evil and good report, to
maintain truth always.”
Early Rising.—“The difference between ris
ing every morning at six o’clock and at eight in
the course of forty years amounts to 29,200 hours.
Rising at six will be the same as if ten years
were added, which should be used for the culti
vation of our minds and hearts, and the dispatch
Were we to ask a hundred men, who from
small beginnings have attained a condition of
respectability and influence, to what they impu
ted their success in life, the general answer would
be, “It was from being early compelled to think
and depend on ourselves.”
It is said that the custom of having orange
blossoms for bridal wreaths was learned from
the Saracens. From the circumstance of the
orange tree bearing flowers and fruit at the same
time, it was considered an emblem of prosperity.
They who have much good in them may have
something amiss. We should be most ready to
mention that which is good.
Success in everything is the fruit of much
thought and patient study, which genius alone