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l'ai.iala piowkks.
THE SUNNY SOUTH.
BY ABTIU'K o’SHACUHNESSY.
Ouo of the workers of the world
Living toiled, and toiling died :
Rut others worked and tiie world went on.
And was not changed when he was gone.
A strong arm stricken, a wide sail furled ;
And only a few men sighed.
One of the heroes of the world
Fought to conquer, then fought to fail.
And fell down s ain in ki« blood-stained mail,
And over his form they slept:
His cause was lost and his banner furled;
And only a woman wept.
One of the singers among mankind
Sang healing songs from an o'erwrought heart;
Rut ere men listened the grass and wind
Were wasting the rest unsung like a wave;
And now of his fame that will ne'er depart
He has never heard in his grave.
< me of tiie women who only love
Loved and grieved and faded away :
All me! are these gone to the God above,
What more of each can I say '.'
They are human flowers that flower and fall,
This i* the song and the end of them all.
LENORE;
— OR —
The Pirate s Daughter.
By J. B. JIiisick.
Author of Iron .Jacket, Mtujtjie Xoyes. Ctohtrn
Medal, Fairy Horseman, .lack the tIrtu
rn it n, Violetta, Il'on through Fire, The
Mission Sailor, Herbert Orton, etc, etc.
CHARTER I.
THE HARSH UNCLE.
Tiiose among our readers who remember
the spring of will r. collect that it was
like this of iSSd, noted for its mildness and
lieauty. The leaves of the forest trees had
just burst forth from the bud. the balmy
breeze of soring fanned the cheek with gentle
warmth, while birds by day and crickets by
night made a cheery chatter.
On the old road that led from Princeton, in
the state of New Jersey, to New York and
about half way between the two cities, there
stood, in iS'Jo, an old-fashioned yet substan
tial farm-house, two stories high. To the
west of the house* was a large faun of two
hundred acres. To the south and lying along
the road was a fine orchard. A creek lay to
tiie north of the farm, and ran across the
road a few rods lielow the house: a rude, pic
turesque bri ige spanned tiie shallow, sparkl
ing stream. North and west of the house
and farm extended a noble forest. A few-
great elms grew quite elose to the house and
one stood just at the south end of file bridge,
its broad branches over-reaching half the
stream and extending nearly across the road.
This farm, one of the most valuable in the
coutry, was owned and occupied by Captain
Zephanin Huntley, a Revolutionary soldier,
whose family consisted of himself, his wife,
Aunt Jemima, as she was known nil over the
country, his son Joe, a sickly boy of nearly
twenty, and a nephew named (ieorge Wash
ington Hur.tley, in honor of the great father
of our country. George, unlike his cousin
Joe. was a hale, robust youth, now only
eighteen, yet in stature and strength a
man; his fine, ojien face indicating intelli
gence and his muscular limbs betokening
physical strength.
It was the afternoon of a lovely day; the
sun was going down behind the western hills.
Two men came in from the fields, each rid
ing a horse and leading another, the chains
of t lie plough harness upon the horses ratti
ng and jingling with the ,measured tread of
the tired horses. The liA-t man was Hill
Turner, a hired man of! UndeZeph Huntley'*,
as he was commonly known, ami the second
his nephew George, the hero of this true ro
mance. George Huntley was an orphan, his
fuller <lj ing when he was an infant, of an old
wound received at Brandywine, and his
mother following him a short timeaf terwnrd.
his uncle, who was bis guardian, had taken
barge of the small esrate left him by his
parents and had reared their boy. While he
had carefully ai d hoi estly attended to
George's business matters, he had made the
youth earn his living by hard work on li is own
Vann.’ This had developed in George great
inusculai strength, and laid the foundation
•f an iron constitution, yet lie, with the
restless ambition of a smart American 1 x>y,
hated at the knowledge the t he was deprived
•f education at school and of gaining knowl
edge by intercourse with the world. In vain
bad h -urged bis uncle to give him the bene
fit of an education, the old gentleman refused
to do more than send him a few weeks to the
listriet school during the winter season, when
there was no farm work.
This only gave the poor boy a taste of what
he so much desired. He knew that great men
like Clay, Webster and Calhoun—men who
ad once been farmer-lioys like himself—
were moving the nation with their iut. Herts;
and lie longed to set his loot ill the great
world that was their arena of action.
Modest and shy as the boy was, his breast
swelled with aspirations that he burned to
realize. Blit what could lie do: Here he was
chained down on a farm, and he already a
man. It was plow, sow, reap, and mow, from
year to year, without even a chance fora
change. There was a look of resolve on
George's lace as lie sprang I'rcm his horse in
front of the old barn, and began removing
die lit-mess. The tired animals shook Ilnur
shaggy mane*. and rubbed then nnais against '
the f. nee. The watering and feeding were
over, and then Aunt Jemima brought outtho
:ui!k-pans for the two men to milk the cows.
George stood leaning carelessly against the
gate while his eyes wandered away vacantly
towards the west where a few light clouds
were rolling against the horizon.
"What do you see up there. George:" asked
Bill Turner, who.-e gaze followed the eyes of
tie* youth.
"1 was thinking. Bill," was the reply.
"Thinking is bad business. I never think.
M v Loss does the thinking and 1 do the work.
But what was you thinking about, chum?"
"There must lie a change, Bill, there must
i«-a change."
What kind of a change:’’
‘A change of life. Uncle Zepli must give
me s-uue chance to cultivate my mind, as well
as his fields."
"Do \ ou mean book-lamin':"
" Yes: my education is badly neglected, and
there must be a change immediately.’"
Bill laughed and told George he had heard
him say the same thing before. It would all
i,- right, however, and he (George) would go
back to ploughing in the morning, the same
little is left you,” snapped the old gentleman,
and his gray eyes sparkled angrily.
“I do not think that money paid in going
to school is foolishly spent,” said George.
“You don’t. Well the fate of the world
don't hang on your opinion. Older heads
know more about these things than you do.
When you become a man you will want all
your property. You would curse me for let
ting you spend it. What do you want to go
to school for? You have more education
than your father or I, anil are you any bet
ter than we?”
“No, but, Uncle Zepli., I am going to have
an education.”
“ It will lie after you leave me, then.” The
irate old gentleman jerked up his paper, and
begun spelling out one of Henry Clay’s
speeches in a vengeful manner. George was
silent and morose.
“I knew it was no use,” said Bill Turner a
few moments later, when they stood in the
yard.
“Bill,” said George brushing a gathering
moisture from his eye, “it's too bad, and I
am not going to stand it. Have you confi
dence in me?”
“Yes, George, the biggest kind.”
“And do you believe I will lie honest:”
"1 do.”
“And would you do me a favor?”
“1 would.”
“Then, Bill, you have worked hard and
lieen saving, and I know you have some
money laid up, and I want to borrow money
of you, and when I am of age you shall be
repaid, if not sooner.”
"1 can trust you George, for I know you
wouid not cheat any one. How much money
would you want ?”
"I want a hundred dollars.”
The answer almost took Bill’s breath. Yet
as he had indicated his intention to comply
wit h George’s request he would do so, come
what might. A hundred dollars was a big
sum. and Bill had to put Iris lingers to his
mouth a few moments and think before lie
could fully make up his mind what to do
at suit it.
“Well, George, 1 can raise it for you; at
what time do you want it?”
“To-morrow evening,” was the reply.
“Well, I reckon I can raise it by that time.
What are you going to do?”
"1 can not say: I am sure I shall leave my
uncle's home to-morrow night and seek my
own way in tie* world. When learn money,
no one then can deprive me of it, and I can
devote all my earnings to improving my
mind.”
Bill shook bis head doubtingly. “I don't
like this way of young fellers leavin' home,
an" runiiiu' away. No good ever comes of
it.”
“Asa rule, no: but my case is an exception.
Here it is toil both winter and summer. 1
have thought about it day and night, and my
mind is fully made up. 1 will go to-morrow
night. Of course I would prefer that my
uncle and aunt know nothing about it.”
Bill promised secrecy, and the two entered
the house and retired to their rooms.
and be saw the hasty, old-fogyish but not
unkind old man now in another light.
“Uncle will not blame me when he comes
to understand it all,” was the thought with
which he consoled himself as he hurried on.
Hour after hour passed and lie saw the
moon slowly sinking behind the hills. It
would soon lie out of sight and leave him in
total darkness on the great wooded road.
He had passed several farm houses, the barns
of which offered excellent sleeping places,
aud he determined to appropriate the next
one he came to, until daylight. Pretty soon
lie arrived at a fine farm building, with a
large Iwtrn and open hay-loft. He crawled
quietly into it, and lieing wearied, lay down
upon the hay and fell asleep.
(To be continued.)
r ii k
Pome physician,
Jn«. fitainback Wilson, JI. ■>.,
■Nil(or. 14 lioyd St.,
Atlanta, 4>a.
j and intensified by the intermarriage of near
| blood relations, such marriages should not be
! made, unless those doing so are perfectly as-
I sure.l of the health of both parties, and es-
i peeially their freedom from such hereditary
j diseases as scrofula, consumption, rheum-
j atisin, cancer, etc.
Mtit a ml Anecdote.
A Heroine Indeed.
TKII! STORY OF AY
lAILK'S OAIJCS1ITFK.
CHAPTER 11.
GEORUE CARRIES OUT Ills RESOLUTION.
The evening George Huntley had chosen
for leaving the home of his childhood, and
seeking his fortune among a world of stran
gers, was serenely beautiful. A full moon
lighted up the great forest below the farm
house, and the air was sweet with the per-
fume of wild flowers.
George stood on the bridge that spanned
the creek just beneath the great elm. His
bundle of clothes slung upon a stout stick lay
at his feet; his eyes wandered back to the o'd
home whose gables glistened graylv in the
moonbeams, while an air of deep tranquilli
ty reigned about the place.
Tears came in liis eyes as he reflected how
many times his childish feet had pattered
down that old road, and how often in Ins
boyhood he had climbed those stately old
elms, or played upon the very bridge on
which he was now standing.
“1 must not give way to any weakness
now,” he said to himself, “I have marked out
my path, and 1 must tread it."
He-Jirushed the tears from hi* ves m-'
looKtfi tip me road. ,f .,
“\y hy (loosn’l Bill come ? Is He afraid to
trust me, and will he fail to let me have the
money? 1 have only two dollars and a little
smnli change in my pocket. I will make the
venture on these if I can do no better.”
Even as he thought thus a dark figure came
out of the farm house aud walked hurriedly
down the road toward the waiting youth.
“At last, Bill.” said George.
“Was you about to give me out?” asked
Bill.
“Almost. 1 have a great journey before
me: the journey to—t don’t know where,
and of course I am anxious to be away. A
long unknown road lies before me, and a
short night to get beyond the reach of my
friends.”
Bill paused on the bridge where ihe
branches of the old elm did not obscure the
rays of the moon, and pulling a leathern
purse from his pocket, proceeded to count
out ten gold pieces of leu dollars each.
“Here is yer money, George, and I hope
heaven may prosper you: yet I may say I
have some misgivings as to what this ven
ture mav be.”
“Should 1 never return, Bill, 1 I nve
enough behind to repay you, said George,
taking the gold and handing his friend a re
ceipt for the same, containing ;m obligation
of payment with interest, and an order for
his guardian to pay the same should he not
return when he was of lawful age.
“Oh, bother the money, George! I was not
Blinkin' of thab I'm not afraid of losing
it. and if it should never be repaid, it will
only be a hundred dollars gone to one Id
rather help than anybody else in this world.
No, 1 wasn’t thinkm’ of the money, but
of you. Where are ye goin :
"I cannot say."
“Aud what do you intend to do ?
•‘1 cannot tell."
“What! don't you know where you are
going, or what you arc going to do when
von get there ?” said Bill in astonishment.
“It’s the truth. Bill: l have no plans for
the present. My object is to get away, and
then be governed by circumstances,
take
Many years ago there appeared a boob
under the title of “Elizabeth; or the Exiles of
Silieria,” For long it retained its popularity,
and even in this day is still read. It is possi
ble that some of our readers have shed tears
over the sorrows of the heroic Elizabeth; and
to such the following facts on which Madam
Cottin founded her story may not Ik* unin -
teresting. They are authentic, and extracted
from letters written from St. Petersburg.
LETTER THE FIRST.
“March, 1805.
I dined on the 26 March at the Princess
Torrulietskoy’s, and there saw a most inter
esting young woman, not long since arrived
from Siberia, which tremendous journey of
four thousand versts (miles) she performed
ou foot, quite alone, and liegging her bread
all the way. She came here wi-'li the laud
able intention of throwing herseif at the em
peror’s feet and petitioning him to show
mercy to her aged father, who was banished
during the reign of Catherine. She had
formed the resolution when only sixteen
years old, but her parents protesting against
it, she wus obliged to submit, though with
out abandoning her project, for she never
ceased to supplicate their permission, until,
wearied with her unceasing prayers, they at
last consented. At the age of twenty-two she
commenced her unions undertaking: they
gavelier their blessing, and all the money they
possessed, which amounted to ten copecks;
and soliciting a few copecks more from their
equally poor but charitable neighbors—for
there are no rich people there—she left To
bolsk with only a rouble (which varies in
value with tiie exchange, but seldom exceeds
half-a-crown) in her pocket, and very thinly
clad, as the climate is much warmer than
ours. She suffered exceedingly from cold as
well as hunger; but God. she said, raised her
up many kind friends, which gave her cour
age to pursue her journey, though it could
not (latter her hopes of success, for she knew
not the extent of her fa tin r's crimes for
which he was banished. She never walked
less than twenty-five, but oftener thirty miles
a day, without meeting with any particular
advei.ture on the road. She began each day’s
journey with the rising sun, and sought any
shelter Providence might offer for the ap
proaching night; she was frequently obliged
to stop two or three days on account of tier
feet swelling through fatigue. Within a few
vei-sts of Moscow, she was received at a con
vent and kindly taken care of for a month.
From that place she dated the end of her
journey, as she obtained a conveyance from
thenee to St. Petersburg in a kibitsky. She
completed her journey in nine mouths. The
ladles of the convent liecame so interested in
her that they recoroeuded her to the Prin
cess Torrid**tskoy, a lad} - famed for human
ity, and to whom the i>oor girl told her
wishes, hopes and fears. The princess, ever
delighted with an opportunity to exercise
her lienevolence, now had a glorious one.
Such nil instance of filial piety and affection
in a person of her youth and sex, she thought
so sublime that she determined to use every
exertion in her power to accomplish thewish-
ed-for object of her journey. She therefore
Now:.—Questions pertaining to health ami
.Jsease will be answered under ibis head*
when this can he done with propriety.
When, Irom the nature of the ease, or oth
er reasons, a private answer is desired, a
full description should he sent, with a
»tamp enclosed. Address Dr. Wilson as
Above, writing middle name 111 full.
Ilewlhix Column Will In* Con
ducted,
Having from the pressure of other engage
ments discontinued my regular “Health De-
partment” for some time, i propose now to
givea column every two weeks on the pre
vention and the domestic treatment of disease.
But, instead of writing on one or two sub
jects as heretofore, I will make my coutribu-
tioi Yfnore varied and paragraphical, thus
meeting the necessities and tastes of a greater
nunuisr of readers.
W hile the main object will be the preven
tion rather than the treatment of disease,
such medicines will be prescribed as can be
safety"used in home practice, strictly exclud
ing everything that is harsh or dangerous in
its s.-tion, ever bearing in mind the great
trntl that people do not so much 11 -e.l to
kno'v how to take drugs as to learn how to
A GREAT TRUTH.
Dr. Hall, who wrote a work on domestic
medicine—called “Health at Home,” editor
of Hall’s Journal of health, and various other
popular w,,rks, wrote many things which
will not liear the test of criticism, his writings
being marred by many groundless assertions
expressed in a very loose, disjointed style.
But, the following quotation from him is
worthy of preservation by every one, and
should be impressed on every mind—nothing
can be more true. Hear him:
“Men consume too much food and too little
pure air: they take too much medicine and
too little exercise. More people die of air
tight rooms than of unchinked log cabins.”
Birdie's Surprise.
Ministers of the interior-
doctor.
The crow is not so bad as a bird after all.
It never shows the white feather, and never
complains without caws.
-The cook and the
The hardest thing to hold in this world is
an unruly tongue. It beats a hot smoothing-
iron anil a kicking horse considerably.
A lecturer on modern education said, very
solemnly, to his audience:—“Parents, you
may have children, or if not, your daughters
may have.”
A Kansas girl says nothing makes her so
mad as to have a grasshopper crawl up anil
down her back just as her lover has come to
the proposing point.
BY MRS. C. W. li. TOWLES
live
A
this
of ti
Slllti
srri
’ ‘ avo ‘J the necessity for them.
\% a* be distinctly understood that
. va i-is not intended to take the place
are
ian, who should always be 1
Birdie Brown was a golden-haired south
ern beauty who previous to the “lata- un
pleasantness” was regarded as quite an
heiress.
Her father, Colonel Brown, owned exten
sive cotton-lands on the banks of the (Ihatta-
hoochee, and a hundred blacks did his bidding.
Moreover he possessed an old valise in which
were deposited six thousand dollars in gold.
As Birdie was his only and idolized child,
her pecuniary prospects at that period were
considered very bright.
But the war changed everything. The
slaves grew idle and impertinent: the Col
onel’s finest Durham and Jersey cattle were
maliciously driven away hy a commissary
officer, to furnish beef for the army: this ex
asperated him to such a degree he attacked
the offender, and was killed in the encoun
ter.
Next, the slaves belonging to the estate
were liberated, and his rich 1 m Is became nl-
A young lady asking a young man in a
music store, “Have you Happy Dreams?”
was astoni-hed when he replied: “No,
ma’am I’m mostly troubled with the night
mare.”
Imagine the horror of an up-town mother,
whose three-year old daughter addressed her
with “Mamma, my doll’s played out and I
don’t want any more rag dollys or china
dollys. I want a meat baby.”
j V.. oV ybo simple remedies here pre-
A. accomplish speedily the desired ! most worthless, because there were none left
a , , 1 , to cultivate them.
rat let not remedies lx? omitted orneg- | The 0 | (1 va!is0 a f ter the Colonel’s ?ase—
’^because they are plain and simple. I was plr.ee 1 in the hands of his brother, "old
* remedies are not only safer than j “note Jimmie- Brown,” as lie was familiar! v
thers, but often ail that are needed, ; “'lawlessness and disorder prevailed every-
When a boy falls and peels the skin off his
nose, the first tiling he does is flb get up and
yell. When a girl tumbles and hurts herself
badly, the first thing she does is to get up
and look at her dress.
A school boy in Indiana was asked: “How
many Zones are there ?” he promptly an
swered: “Four—the torrid, the frigid, the
temperate and tiie intemperate.”
A man never looks so helpless and insig*
nificant as when standing around a drygoods
store waiting for his wife to get through
trading.
Nothing in the world will make a man so
mad as to dream that he is kissing an acade
my girl, and wake up to find that a depraved
fly is wallowing around the ragged edge
of his mouth.
iiot.
witl-lproper attention t
hygienic agents, which are
indispensable part of the
wliiirfi will tli-refore be dal
tlr 1
rest and
iften the
treatment,
other : where, and no one was surprised when til
- report went abroad that uncle Jemmie'
It is indeed affecting to see a pale, poetic
looking young man arise from a table where
he has been inditing some verses, “To a false
One,” and clasping his hand over his liver
complain of heart ache.
and !
turns given.
house had 1-cen surrounded by rob'oers, anil
, he himself hung by the neck until he was al-
irdcd in all most dead, in order to make him reveal the
' place where Birdie’s gold lay eoncea
j After resisting for a lo-:g time, lie had been
nose-bleeping. , forced to give it up. and nothing remained of
This is a common trouble with children. ( the little golden-haired beauty’s fortune ex-
aml is generally caused by over-excitement cept her Chattahoochee lands,
from running and from falls and blows. The j But Dr. Ira Howard had known her from
difficulty can generally Ik* removed by the j her earliest childhood, and when things be-
free use of cold water applied to the face and j gan to get a little settled after the war, he
back -if the neck and sniffed up the nose. Or | went to her, aud in a straight forward manly
way. told her that ho loved her and asked
her to become his wife.
“Dr. Howard,” she replied lifting her
An old bachelor picking, up a book, ex*
claimed, upon seeing a woodcut representing
a man kneeling at the feet of a woman—“Be
fore I ever kneel to a woman I would encircle
my neck with a rope and stretch it.” And
then turning to a young woman, he inquired
1- j—“Do you not think it woul l be the best
1 could do ?" “It would undoubtedly be the
best for the woman,” was the sarcastic repiy.
a pretty strong solution of alum may be used
in the latter way. Quietu le should Ik- main-
taini d: needless alarm discarded, and a phy
sician called if these simple means fail.
sweet blue eyes to liis f.ice, I am no long
“We knows the public is down on us,” re
marked the old milkman, as he dipped out
the desired quirt from one of his big cans,
“but the public is mistaken. I11 the fust
place, we put in a leetle water—only a bit,
to make up for shrinkage, it giK-s to the big
dealers, aud they ain't a bit keerful when
they gits to pouring in water. They sells it
to the grocers, and they put in chalk with one
INDIGESTION IN CHILDREN.
ChK-ffren have verv active digestion, and
disorder of this function is generally the re
sult of over-feeding.
Children at the breast frequently vomit up
their milk in a curdled state, front taking
more-than they can hold. This is nature's
wise mode of relief, and should cause no un
easiness, if tile child thrives and retains its
plumpness. But should the vomiting lie at
tended with wasting of the flesh, the quanti
ty of food should be diminished. If the bow
els kjH'ome affected and the discharges are
greenish, they may be regulated by giving a
few grains of powdered chalk, or a teaspoon-
fill of a solution of common scxla. every two
or three hoars.
the heiress you formerly knew—my fortune (hand, and water with "the other, and they
nearly all gone. Are you aware of that ! are thinking of politics and get in too much.
fact ?
“Yes, Birdie dear, but you are a fortune
in your self. Let- us marry for love and
work for gold!”
The result of this interview was, that our
little heroine became his affianced bride, and
an early day in May iSfij was appointe 1 for
the nuptials.
On the last afternoon previous to her wed
ding. the gild sat on the front porch of her
The servant gal goes after the milk for
the family, drinks a third of it. and she puts
in water to make up the measure; and, you
see, when the family gets it the taste ain’t
there, the look ain’t there, and they goes for
us poor old men. who hasn’t a dishonest hair
in our heads. That’s the way, mister—gee
up there, Homer !*’
Profes
kind old uncle’s dwelling. Her modest irons- | numbers together ?"
“Can you multiply concrete
THE ERUPTION FEVERS.
are, small pox, measles, chicken-pox
an had been packed in two trunks: these
locked and lalielled stood against the wall of
an adjoining room.
The air was filled, with tic* fragrance of
honey-suckles'and jassamines. and a bird was
very tuneful in the top of a mimosa tree that
grew near the piazza.
How different my wedding will lie from
The class are uncertain.
Professor. “What will be the product of
five apples multiplied by six potatoes
Pupil, (triumphantly 1. “Hash.”
“YYe can’t all of us he great, - ’ remarked a
seedy, but benevolent philosopher. “Some
of us have got to run peanut stands, or chil
dren would grow up comparatively unused to
Unde Zepli. had In- u t-* -he neighboring
jljage a d returned just as the night work
,over, and he and liis nephew George and
ii:, Turner c: U red lie great porch in
*>!' the lioa>.- at the same time.
J-ie. the invalid. w hose ha--king cough fore-
old ft; sumption, sat in liis easy-chair enjoy-
;i„. -..(Ting sun. Ann* Jemima was Hour-
-Iri 1:• • milk pans and strainers, in the kitchen
slowly aud solemn
eateil 011 the porch.
1 shall
site the first place that will pay me.
“Where will you go first f'
“1 shall go to New York City. 1 was nev
er there but "lice, and then I was small, but
it seems as if everybody drifts there and finds
something to do."
“Ye’ll have to watch close for sharpers
and pickpockets. I tell ye that town’s full
o’ ’em.”
“I know it. I have read of them often and
often, and I think I’m pretty well posted as
to their little tr cks.”
“You don’t think of staying in New York:”
“No. I don’t know any trade I could earn 1
a living at' I have hopes to find somebody j
to employ me among the many hundred lnar- *
ketmeu, who come to sell their produce. So j
it is not near this neighborhood, I shall like
any place, no matter how humble. |
"You will Hud good places hard to get, j
said Bill, speaking from experience. j
“I know that. I know there are plenty of 1
diliicullies, but I've made up mv mind to j
meet them and shan't be seared off the track ,
easy, once I've started out.”
“Well, George, should you ever get m a j
strait aud want a friend, will you write I
to me?” _ . j
George seized his hand anil said with a
voice husky with feeling,: '
Rest assured of one tiling. Bill, in whatever 1
situation I am placed 1 shall always regard j
you as my lx*st friend.”
! When the two shook hands for the last time
iv when tile two w
"Well, sir?" said the ol I gentleman, adjust j anil separated there were tears in the eyes of
ing his sprctaclet
from his -ide poi
for the iast
old gentle
aeli. Bill returned up the road to the old j
farm house, while George with liis little bun- i
die -in a stick slung over his shoulder, walked
wav. The old farm house was soon lost j
sight of as he hurried on down that long, dark
road. Often in liis boyhood he had desired j
i to explore the old road along which so many j
! wagons and the weekly mail coach rolled,
i He had then believed the “big road” must.
1 lead to the end of the world, and supposed
I when he died he must travel it in order to get
; to Heaven.
. Try as lie would he could not be cheerful
* le- vou squander your means in that as he walked along the dark, wooded road.
v While i. by your father’s will, am your The old home he was leaving, the faces of his
uardinn V oii slmil not foolishly spend what uncle and aunt kept rising liefore his eyes
and taking a newspaper
; 1. “what will you have:"
yxi now for the lasr time,
„l If a- e my prospects for attending the
academy this winter?
“Well, 'ir. now f will tell you
tin..*, thev are bad." replied the
man. locking over his spectacles at ins neph
ew, iind allowing the newspaper
low his face.
"Have i not means
attend 'In* academy?
“Yo
to
such a daughter. He then gave her two
thousand roubles, and presented her to the
empress, who gave her three hundred rou
bles, and settled two hundred roubles a year
]x-iision on her for life, with permission for
herself and family to live where they pleased.
The dowager empress has ordered her picture
to be taken, which will soon get into the
print shops. I will take care to get you a
good copy. Her name is Praskovy Gregorioa
Lnpulova, which in English means Pauline,
(laughter of Gregory Lnpulova. She lmd on
a gray calico gown, with long sleeves and full
tops, like the English, a large black crape
handkerchief on her neck, with a chaplet of
beads and cross—all of which were given her
at the convent near Moscow. On her head
was a white muslin handkerchief, twisted
carelessly round, and the ends lied under the
chin. She has a very soft, pleasing counten
ance, but not handsome. So much interest
has her story excited in Sr. Petersburg, and
the particular notice taken of her by the im
perial family, it is become quite the rage to
entertain her. The poor gin’s head will bo
turned: she goes from one nobleman’s house
to another, staying a week, or sometimes
longer, at each. General Koutousoff has be
spoken her, and she comes to us in about a
mont h.”
LETTER THE SECOND.
“Pauline is with us. I fihd her very ami
able, and much better informed than would
be supposed possible in one born and brought
up in the deserts of Silieria. She seems very
grateful and affect onate, which is made
known more by manner than words, for sir?
only speaks Russ, aiul that so badly we can
hardly understand each other. She isadmit-
ted to Madam Koutousott’s table, to which
the general himself lends her every day, but
kept strict fast all Lent, not even eating fish.
Her father, 1 find, was employed in the pal
ace of the late empress Catherine, in the
menial office of looking .after the fires, when
lie contrived to steal a large quantity of
plate, for which he was banished, Madam
Cottin's “Elilabeth” is just brought me, in
French. I told Pauline it was founded on
her adventures, anil translated the heads of
the story to her. Siie laughed heartily, and
said, ‘A poor girl like me made into such a
fine story?’ She is considered in a very bad
state of health, tiie effects of her sufferings.
A very large subscription lias been collected
for her, but 1 f* ar she will not long enjoy it.
She has sent for her parents and intends
meeting them at UatherinUurg. and retiring
to a convent. 1 asked her if she meant to
embrace a religions life. She smiled and
said, 'No: her gratitude to God and tin* em
peror was unbounded, and would be as long
as she lived. There was no necessity for her
to be a mm. to pray at statsil times: her
heart was in con-tano voluntary prayer, and
God knew with what-sincerity.”
LETTER THE THIRD.
“I am quite vexed to find the dowager
empress has strictly forbidden Pauline’s pic
ture to be made public. She has lmd one
placed in her own cabinet, and a copy sent
to each of tiie imperial family: but I am de
termined you shall have a hkeuessol lier. as
on her return she lias promised we shall see
her again before she finally settles: and a
friend who visits here, a very eminent artist,
has assured me lie will take it for me.”
LETTER THE FOURTH.
"I am happy in the opportunity of Mr.
Gordon’s return to England, to send you the
promised sketch of the interesting Pauline.
T - - .... . ltb.aiaikL'O *lllil T IwillA V. Ill Will
But purgatives should be used sparingly.
The great errors to be avoided are keeping
the patient too close, over purging, over-feed
ing, and the excessive use of stimulants and
hot drinks with the design of “keeping the
eruption out.”
The fear of taking cold has been the death
ot thousands.
This is especially true of measles, and pa
tients are often killed outright by such*tre:.t-
ment.-
As a general rule, mild warm drinks may
be used in this disease, and it is proper to
guard against strong currents of air. But
the room should be well aired in measles and
in all other diseases; mid if there is a desire
for eold drinks or even ice, it sho .Id be grati
fied in moderation. The world is now too
much advanced in knowledge longer to toler
ate the barbarous practice of suffering pa
tients to parch and burn up with fever for
f cooling draughts of water, while
robbers tool* the valise with the
did they manage to carry away so much of
precious stuff.”
“They took neither valise nor gold," said
the old gentleman chuckling. “I knew the
money was not safe here in those unsettled
times, so I caused a report to be circulated
that 1 had been robbed. As such outrages
were frequent in the neighborhood, no one
thought of disputing the fact. See. Birdie;
your yellow boys are all safe!”
The young lady’s surprise may well be
imagined.
Dr. Ira Howard did not know until sever
al days after they had returned from their
bridal tour, that his sweet little wife possess
ed. in addition to valuable lands, six thousand
dollars in gold.
! peonle who are only bilious when they think
themselves pious. The gravest animil," said
he, "is the “ass," among birds, the “owl,"
and among fish, the “oyster,” so look out.
All Iiitliiin Mesmrrizer.
from India of the
tliev are smothered up in l.lanke's aiid hot, Strange stories reach u
unventilated rooms, for fear of taking cold j feats performed by a native mesmerize!-
or driving in an eruption. j Bum, whose magnetic power would I
When small pox and other fevers were ! appear to be found quite irresistible l>j the
treated oil this plan, the mortality was fright- i lower animals, upon which he exclusive!}
fill, hub under the more rationaland sensible exerts it. He gives seance*, to which the
practice of cooling drinks, pure air, quietude j public are invited to bung ail maiinei of teio
and light, unstimulating food, the eruptive > cions and untameable.wild beasts, and like
feversi anil all other diseases have lost much i the ancient manner, he holds them with his
of i luAt'.finality.
SORES BEHIND THE EARS.
A little five-year old friend, who was al
ways allowed to choose the prettiest kitten
for his pet an I liis playm ite, before the other
nurslings were drowned, was taken to his
mother's sick-room the other morning to see
two tiny, new, twin babies. Ho looked re
flectively from one to the other for a minute
or two, then poking his chubby linger into
the clieek of the plumpest baby, he said de
cidedly, '‘Save this one."
It was an old bachelor who declare I that
the conventional representation of a cherub
was his idea of a model infant. “Non isty
little lungs to scream with—no dirty little
hands to meddle with —no li >rri<l little legs t, o
run about on—just a dear little pair of fluffy
wings and a head.’’
littering eve. In a few seconds they subside
' into a condition of cataleptic stiffness, from
' which they can only be revived by certain
SonL behind the cal's and other eruptions I “passes” which lw solemnly executes with his
on thel-J in are very common in children and j ).jght hand. An account of one of these se-
are nty*- mistreated. These sores and erup- | anoes states that a snake in a stute of violent
tions njre generally connected with teething, , irritation was brought to Buni by a me nag-
wooden ca;
at form it was
elj
tarns ape generally connected witn reenmng, , irritation was brought to Bum
and as'they seem as a kind of safety outlet j er j e proprietor, inclosed iu a
for thu system, no efforts should lx? made to j when deposited on the plat
dry them 1111 with ointments and salves. ' writhing and hissing fiercely.
dry them up
They should lie carefully washed every day
with warm water or milk and water, anil
then anointed with a littlesweet oil or glycer
ine or fresh cream. A plaster made of gly
cerine and powdered chalk or starch mixed
to a proper consistence, makes a good sooth
ing protective dressing. Si ill better is a pre
paration made by druggists by heating starch
and glycerine together called glyceramyl.
These stores are often made worse by apply
ing all kinds of stimulant*, and by keeping
the heed too warm with caps and other head-
Buni bent over tiie cage, and fixed his eyes
upon its occupant, gently waving his hand
over tne serpent’s restless head. In less than
a minute the snake stretched itself out, stif
fened. and lav apparently dead. Buni took
it up, and thrust several needles into its body
but it gave no sign of life. A few passes
then restored it to its former angry activity.
Subsequently a savage dog, held in a leash
by its owner, was brought in, anil, at Buni’s
command, was let loose upon him. As it was
rushing toward him, bristling with fury, he
gear. Even greater danger arises from at- I raised his h ini, and in a second the fierce brut#
t mpts to dry them up, not nnfrequently re- j ,i r oppe l upon its belly as though stricken by
suitingqii convulsions and the most serious 1 lightning. It seemed absolutely paralyzed
affectic 11s of the brain. 1 ■ " ’ —’ * " 11,
A precocious boy was aske.l which was the
greatest evil of the two, hurting another’s
feelings or his linger' He sai l the former.
“Right, my child,” said the gratified listener,
“and why is ir worse to hurt the feelings
“Because you can’t tie a rag around them,”
exclaimed the dear child.
A11 eminent divine from New England,
traveling in Texas for his health, impaired
by arduous clerical duties, upon arriving at
one of the towns, went in search of the bar
ber’s shop for repairs and improvements. On
entering an establishment of this kind, he ob
served a big double-barrelled gun leaning
against the wall. Having a constitutional
awe of fire-arms, he hastily asked the barber
if the guns were loaded. A half-shaved na
tive, turned around liis lather-beaten face
and exclaimed. “Stranger! ef you’re in an
all-fired hurry, you'll iin l a six shooter what
is loaded in my coat-tail pocket!”
This recalls another story of an English
tourist who proposed to visit Arkansas, and
asked a citizen-if he ought to provide himself
with a revolver. “Wall,” replied the citizen,
“ye mout not want one for a month, and ye
mout not want one for three months, but ef
yer ever did want one, you kin bet you’d
want it almighty sudden!
■'•111 Kcliiml (lit? I’eolliglils.
THE MARRIAGABLE AGE.
This depends more on the physical develop
ment than on the number of years. But
there should 1m? time for consolidation or eon-
firniation, as well as for growth. The liest
age for girls to marry may be put at from
eighteen to twenty-five years, and for men
the most eligible age is from twenty-five to
thirty-three.
by some unknown agency,and was unable to
move a muscle until released from the luag-
netizer’s spell by a majestic wave
hand.
if his
A Ilolher’s Misilakt*,
;look-
sink he
enough of
own 11
have. sir. but 1 am not foolish enough
It is an excellent likeness and I hope you will
receive it safely. You will see by her dress
she is now in a convent. It is situated m
lower Novogoroil. Her f ather and mother
are iiensioners in the same house with her.
She says she feels herself the happiest crea
ture in the world.”
“She is since dead; supposed to have en
tirely broken her constitution by fatigue and
anxiety, at the early age of twenty-five.”
RUI.ES TO BE HUNG OVER EVERY LADY
1NG-GI.ASS.
1. Consult health anil comfort first, orna
ment next.
•?. Let the dress be so fitted and arranged
that lx iffy and mind will be equally at ease.
:!. Let the dress l>e uniform: avoid all
sudden changes.
4. Let the dress bs rather light than
heavy.
5. Never expose a part of the body usually
coveredt
ti. Pul on a shawl or cloak after exercis
ing- I
7. Keep the liody clean.
8. Keep the feet and arms well clad.
Never adopt any fashion that requires
1 remember, sa3 r s an exchange, a whimsi
cal incident occurring in a theater where the
leading member of the company was cele
brated for his magnificent physique. One
night he was enacting Yirginius, aiul his
mother, who had never lieen in a theater in
all her life, happened, on the occasion, to be
in the boxes. Fresh from her native York**
shire village, it will be readily imagined that
she was somewhat bewildered with the nov-
j city of the scene. When her son appeared
she was amazed at the grandeur of his pres
ence in fleshings, sandals and toga. His ap-
lK?arance caused a great deal of enthusiastic
applause. When it had subsided the proud
mother, unable to restrain herself, and to the
astonishment of all around her, said, “I’ni
so glad you like him. He’s my soil.” Where*
upon the mother immediately became the
centre of attraction, and one admirer ex
claimed, “Well, madame, you may well be
9. , „ . _ . . „
anj- improper exposure of your person— proud of your son, for he looks godlike as a
which is injnrious to health and revolting to Roman.” “Ah.” sighed the poor old lady in
modesty.
SHOULD COUSINS INTERMARRY.
Recent investigations seem to show that
the dangers from such unions have been great
ly exaggerated. But as hereditary constitu
tional defects are likely to be transmitted
“Macbeth” was being played by a very
clever man who was a great favorite with
his audience. In the banquet scene lie had
delivered the speech to the ghost of Banquo,
ending with the words, “Hence, hence!"
when he dropped upon his knee, covering liis
face with his rob 3 and shuddering convulsive
ly. I11 the midst of the dea l silence a youth,
evidently overcome by the intensity of the
acting, cried out. as the ghost disappeared'
"It's all right, sir; he’s Gone now!”
In the same theatre “Jennie Deans” was
being played one night, when the person who
had to play the judge was taken suddenly ill:
a novice was hurriedly allotted to fill his
place, and duly posted on the mimic bench
to read from the manuscriot. Losing the
place, he became so bewildered when the
time arrived for him to pass the sentence of
death upon E(fie,that he condemne 1 her sister
Jennie instead. “Stop,” was whispered aloud
on every side: “that is the wrong one.” So
completely was he upset by this that when
he did address the right sister he pronounced
her free to leave the court without a stain
upon her character. This, of course, was
worse than ever. “What are you doing ?”
shouted the distracted stage-manager from
the side. “She can't go free—she must be
nw «ixa filliJl tllA IBADB ”
reply, “I didn’t want him to lx? a Homan.
He would have made a splendid policeman!’’
A Sunday-Sobool bey, on being asked
wbat made tbe tower o' Pisa lean, replied,
“Because of the famine in the land.”
sentenced, or we can’t finish the piece.
Making another and a final effort to set mat
ters right, the distracted judge again address
ed himself to the prisoner, saying, “When I
said you were free, young woman, that was
merely ironic on my part. You are guilty,
anil niust die.”