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©Iw gutoertfett. PCBUSBXD EVERY THURSDAY HOK-MSO. WM. 'BRAdFOBD, Editor, TEBMS OP SUBSCRIPTION: 1 Copy one year - - - - - ** °° 1 *• six months - “ 11 •' one year - - - - TERMS-^Casb In Advance. Address, ADVERTISER PUBLISHING CO., CKDZBTuTTN, GA. Cedartown Advertiser. OLD SERIES—YOL. VL NO. 16. CEDARTOWN, GA., JULY 3, 1879. NEW SERIES—VOL. I. NO. 29. ADVERTISING RATES. 3 inches..... % e unnu..... Hcou n... . II U1 8 in 6 m. |l .u l s«* 10 4-0 6 WW6 0. 3 7 flat 8 <0 10 Oli 51»«# 1 is m 7.M>!*aw ti" 00(40 * 3 0. It H ’& UO 20 0 4 >00 65 00 $ 18 00 z5 UO 40 00 65 00 1 UU0 LOCaL NOTI. ES—Ten c ent# p-r line r>ron? liaordoD. For two or more lnaeruuns, five cen 8 p r line each inse.uon. OBITUARY NOTICES—Charged at hall rates. LET IT PASS. -Be not fqpffc to.take offence ; “Xet if pass 1 Anger ia a fo • to sense ; Let it pas*! Er od not dar ly o’e- a wro g Wli ch wi 1 disappear ere long ; Rattier s ing this cheery song— Let .t pass ! Let it pa-s! Strife’corrt dcs the purest mind ; Let it pa-*« ! As the unre arded wind, Le' it pass ! Any vulgar souls that live. May condemn without reprieve ; ’Tib the t.ob.e who forgive, Let it pass ! Let it pass! Echo not an augr word ; Let it pass! Think I ow often you have erred ; Let it pass ! Since our j >ys must pass away, Like the dewirops on the spr<iy, Whe efore should our Borrows stay ! L*t them pass ! Let them pass ! If for g> od you’ve taken ill. Let it pass ! Oh ! be kind and geut e sti.l ; Let it as! Time at last makes all things straight ; Let us not resent, but wait, And our triumph shall be great ; Let it pass ! ~ Let it pass ! Bid your anger to di part Let it pass! Lay these homely words to heart ‘Let tpa?s!” Follow not the giddy throng ; Better to be wronged t an wrong ; There fore sing the cheery song— Let it pass ! Let it pass ! The Old Chalk-Pit. South Down, though charmingly situated in one of the eastern counties of England, is not a place of general resort. Here and there a cottage or two may be found, making a pleasing variety in a land scape rich in nature's loveliness; but as our narrative lias only to do with that part of South Down in the immediate vicinity of the chalk-pits, we will briefly introduce the 1 reader to Adam Iia-wley and his wife, an ! old couple occupying one of the little dwel lings near to this locality. Adam spent mojt of his days in carting ; away mud and rubbish from the roadside, | and at other times he would work in the i pits, earning enough to keep himself and wife in comfortable circumstances. These old people lived on from day to day, from season to season, without change j in their mode of life. They were quiet and | orderly, causing neither trouble nor anoy- I ance to their neighbors; but for all this they were no favorites. The fact is, Deborah Hawley and her I husband lived only to please themselves. j Possessed of every comfort—for, besides 1 the bread-winner’s earnings, they had a lit- j tie income of eight shillings a week coming j in regularly—and, engrossed in their own j concerns, they m\vep troubled themselves 1 about being neighborly; thus much of the! sunshine of life was unknown to them, | through the unapproaclmblcncss of their i own characters. They were certainly a striking contrast j to the rest of the inhabitants of Lime Cot tages, as the collection of little dwellings was called—among whom there was a feel ing of friendliness, and many helpful deeds made life's day brighter to many of them. But the Hawleys were strangers to acts of "kindness, and so long as no misfortune happened to themselves the}’ never thought of relieving the ills of other folks. Mrs. Figgins, their next-door neighbor, whose husband was down with brain fever, and required constant‘watching, day and night, had three of her little children laid up at the same time with inflamation o£ the lungs; yet, in her domestic difficulties she never ventured on asking aid from Mrs. Hawley; but Mrs. Keen, a busy matron, with half a dozen little ones of her own, and engaged nearly ever}’ hour of the day in ministering to their w ants, proffered the necessary help, even before it was solicited. The whole community, with the excep tion of old Deborah and her husband, vied with one another in helping poor Mrs. Fig- gius through her trouble. Not even a kina inquiry as to how the in valids were progressing passed the old couple’s lips; and as to a lew’ of the new'* laid eggs, that Mrs. Hawley's hens supplied her with so plentifully, finding their way into .their sick neighbor's house, such a thing was never thought of. Sooner than give them away they were allowed to orna ment the shelves in the little parlor till they became too bad to be eaten by any one. The faculty of performing kindnesses eertaydy did not belong to these old people. All their lives they had closed their hearts to works of benevolence, and now, in their declining years, no gentle promptings from earth or heaven seemed to arouse them t i deeds of love. Once only an angel’s whisper reached Adam Hawley, making him for a moment seem troubled and uneasy; but the bright spark, .which, had he allowed it to kindle, would have filled his rugged countenance with sunshine, was quenched as he mut tered: “What is it to us if they do want new- laid eggs i Let them keep fowls of their own and they'll get some.” So the communication which he had overheard Mrs. Figgins make to a friend concerning the requirements of her sick fa mily \yas blotted from his mind, as he con vinced’ himself that it was not needful to bother himself with other people’s troubles. Nevertheless, he repeated what he had overheard to his wife, and as a woman's influence in whatever rank of life is all powerful, Mrs. Hawley's reply, had it been in favor of a charitable aciion, might have done much toward its accomplishment, in stead of which her verdict, “Let them get eggs for themselves if they want them,’ strentghened her husband in his opinion that the matter was no concern of theirs. So, while others, with far scantier means, depried themselves of even little necessaries in order to relieve the pressing wants of Mrs. Figgins’ household, this old couple, who, in comparison, could have given of their abundance, shut their eyes and ears to their neighbors' necessities, though mon than one of the invalids might have been makingrapid progress toward convalescence, if supplied with proper nourishment. 1 lie Hawley's were not in ignorance as to the feeling of disfavor with which their fellow cottagers regarded them—but what cared they? Possessed of all they required, able to wait on themselves, endowed with good health, they solicited favors of no one, and with blinded eyes, and well-nigh unthank ful hearts, they lived for themselves only. One afternoon, Adam Hawley had just partaken of a very comfortable tea, which his wife had prepared for him. Poor Mrs. Figgins’ pale, anxious face, which he caught a sight of as she returned from her scanty marketing, had by no means dis turbed Ills enjoyment of it, and with the same unmindfulness regarding the wants of others he prepared to set out for his work again. “You’ll about have time to shell the peas and get the supper on afore I’m back,” were the parting words to his helpmeet, and with no thought beyond the present the speaker started. The following quarter of an hour was passed in fetching the horse and cart from Farmer Kirby’s. Then Adam filled his cart with the collection of rubbish, and, leading old Derry by the bridle, proceeded leisurely in the direction of the chalk-pits. Steadily and quietly the willing animal plodded on, past the Lime Cottages, down the curve of the road, to within a few feet of the deep hollow in which the load he was carrying was to be deposited. But suddenly aloud “Whoa!” accom panied by a tug of the reins, announced that something was wrong, but this failed to rectify matters, for the horse, suddenly checked at the moment of slipping, was un able to recover his footiug, and, after one or two ineffectual attempts, his knees doubled under him and down he went. Then began a struggling and scufflinng, as Adam exerted all his strength to get Derry to his feet; but the ground which was composed of loose sand, was unfavor able for this purpose, and the horse’s strug gles brought him nearer and nearer to the pit’s edge. In bewildered dismay, the old man gazed affrighted around, as he endea vored to pull the animal back. In vain be shouted and called for help! no living creature was visible, and no sound broke the stillness as his agonized tones died away without response. “She'll be over as sure as fate—and drag* me in,” he gasped frantically, feeling his strength failing with each plunge of the horse. While large beads of prespiration stood on his intensely puckered face, his thoughts flew to old Deborah, who was sit ting in her kitchen, calmly shelling a fine gathering of marrowfats, little guessing the peril then just happening to her husband within a short distance from her dwelling. Having finished, she rose from her seat as some one hastily passed her open door, and, in another moment, she heard Mrs. Figgins’ eldest girl explaining something to her mother. The tones were hurried and the sounds confused; and she might have paid little heed to them had not her own name fallen, with familiar distinctness on her ears. “What have they got to talk about me \ for?” she murmured somewhat grnffiy, as, I proceeding to the door, she was going to ! close it; hut her attention was arrested by j what appeared to be the outpouring of all j her neighbors, sis though moved by one; mind, they rushed in the direction of the [ chalk-pit. Mrs. Figgins alone stood stationary, and i her countenance paled when she saw the j look of fear that overspread old Deborah's 1 face as she inquired: “What's the matter—what's they all ! gone down there for?” “Oh, Mrs. Rawlcy, don’t be frightened; the horse has fallen down, and your hus- ■ band cannot get him up again—and we—” Her listener stayed to hear no more; with j a wild scream she ran off, and reached the I scene of the accident just as, with an aw ful crash, the horse vanisl ed over the pit's ! mouth, dragging along with him old Adam. ‘ The half howl, half shriek, which broke frpm his wife’s lips, lornr rarer in the ear*} ottrnose wno Heard it. “My Adam! my Adam! ch, iet me get to him!” and, had it not.been for kind but vigorous arms, the poor creature would have thrown herself into the pit in her agony. “Nay, stay ye here; he’ll he all right.” But as the soothing words were spoken, the speakers looked around with bewilder-! ed faces, as they saw no possible way of making good their promise, for to use their own expression, “the men” were all away. Not a man was within call; the cottages were peopled by women and children at this hour of the evening, the bread-winners being away in the fields. “If lie's alive now, he’ll be kicked to death before he can begot out,” wailed De borah, as the horse gave a restless plunge, and ouce more she made desperate efforts to reach her husband. All unkind behavior and past disagreea bles were forgotten by the poor woman's neiglilKirs as they wound their arms strong ly about her, striving by word and deed to moderate her anguish. “Oh, if the men would only come! and springing on a high railing, Mrs. Keen— who had already sent her children scamper ing off in all directions in search of them— looked wildly toward the fields, as she waved her handkerchief high above her head, and shouted frantically for help. How slowly those moments of never-to- be-forgotten agony crept by, as, bending over the pit's edge, Mrs. Hawley listened for any sign or sound to denote that her husband was living; but only the plunging of the horse was to be heard, and, in the violence of her sorrow, the distressed wo man might have broken from her compa- eieii8 and cast herself in the hollow be neath, hail not a prolonged shout from Mrs. Keen been followed by an assertion which scut a shrill of hope through every heart. “They’re coming! hold up Mrs. Haw ley! we'll soon have him out now!” she ex claimed, and still continued to wave her handkerchief. Ere many seconds had passed, half a dozen swarthy men—their faces illumined with the rays of the setting sun—bounded over the hedge and rail to the scene of peril. Their brawny hands and anus were soon earnestly engaged in the work of rescue; and while the women comforted old Debo rah, her husband wrfs got out of his very dangerous position. He made no movement as they bore him to the surface, and then to his cottage, where it was found that life was not ex tinct. lie was fearfully bruised and sha ken, however, and was some weeks in re covering his usual health. This incident wrought an entire change in this old couple. Whether the attention and sympathy of their neighbors had any thing to do with it, cannot be said; but "it is very certain that few are proof against kind words and loving deeds; sneers and reproaches may harden, but who can resist the sunshine of love? Happily the Hawley's hearts were touched by the friendly solicitude shown them: and they evinved their gratitude in many ways. Selfishness gave place to ge nerosity, and perhaps the final recovery of Mrs. Figgins' invalids was, in some mea sure, due to the frequent supply of new- laid eggs which Mrs. Hawley’s hens seemed to take as much delight in laying for other people as for their own mistress." Be that as it may; hearts which had been long closed to the sufferings around them were now awakened to the honest rea lization of life’s duties, their earnest atten tion to which enriched them with a higher appreciation of life's true sweetness and the secret of all happiness. Prince Hassan and His Gloves. Though but twenty- four years old, Prince Ilassau, son of the Khedive,and eommander-in-chief of the Egyptian contingent on the Danube, is an experi enced soldier, and has already had his share of haps and mishaps. The young Prince received liis military education a* Woolwich and Berlin, after which be occupied the office of Minister of War to his father. During the late war with Abyssinia he was seriously wounded and made prisoner. Although treated with great consideration, Kiug John—“to punish him,” as he ex pressed it, “for fighting against Chris tians—ordered that ri large cross should be tattooed on the back of each ot the Prince’s hands. This was done; and when the wounds were healed the young officer was released and returned to Cairo. Arrived at home. Prince Hassan consulted the best European as well as native physician and chemists, and Copt soothsayers, promising a large sum to any one who should rid him of the mementos of the Abys sinian King. Advice was freely offer ed and experiments tried; the Prince underwent much suffering but all in vain—the Christian crosses were indeli ble. In despair he finally resorted to a Dervish for advice, and the holy man communicated a remedy which, ar least had the. merit of being undeniably efficacious. “Chop off both thy hands,” he said to the Prince. “Better live without hands than w r ear forever those signs of the infidel gaiours!” But Has- 8au relished it but little, and remains to this day tattooed with the hateful symbols. This is why no one sees him without gloves. A Brave Cashier. We think ourselves full of philosophy when we aie only happy over our lood ai d drink. Sorrows are like thunder-clouds; in the distance they look blaek, over our heads hardly gray. While George L. Walter, the cashier, w’as alone iu charge of the Working men's Savings Bank of Allegheny City, Pa., recently, he saw two men of very suspicious appearance enter the build ing. One of them stopped at the front end of the counter, while the other passed on to the small opening iii the glass partition, on the top of the coun ter, about fifteen feet from the door. The man at the opening presented a dollar and asked for change, and then suddenly held a pistol at Walter saying “If you make any noise, or stir, I will blow your brains out.” Mr. Walter instead of recoiling, caught hold of the revolver with both hands, and in a mo ment wrenched It out of tiie man’s hand. The robber then called to his companion near the door, and he drew a revolver and came toward Mr. Wal ter. The latter fearing that they wanted to enter the vault at the rear of the bank, the door of which stood open ran to the rear end of the counter, where he faced about. He was just in time to sec his first assailant climbing over the glass partition on tlje counter, and the second one getting t,p on the outside of it. Mr. Walter instantly fired at the man who had first assailed him, with the revolver he had first taken from him and still had, but the robber jumped down from behind the counter in time to dodge thaball which passed through the plate glass window’ in the front part ot the bank. The first thief then caught up the largest pile of bank notes on the table and started to climb over the counter again. Before he got oil the counter Mr. Walter again fired at him, and as he climbed up on the counter fired again. The man then got over the partition and fell to the tloor, dropping a large part of the money he had under his arm. Quickly regaining his feet he ran out ot the door. The secor.d robber who bad climbed over the partition got back and followed his companion. It appears that there was still a third man and a boy standing outside of the door. A moment after the first two men entered the boy followed with a large market basket, which he quickly dropped and ran out w hen Mr. Walter began shoot ing. The basket, no doubt, was to place the money in. Chase was then given the robbers. One of them snapped a pistol at a railroad flagman who attempted to stop them. He then leaped over the wall and ran down to Bell’s alley to the Allegheny River, in to which he jumped. He floated and swam down to a coal float, where he painted his revolver at two boys in a skiff and compelled them to take him aboard and row him down and across ilie river to Pittsburg, where he es caped, as did all his companions, owing to the confusion and uncertainty of the pursuers. The robbers took away $1,500 and dropped $900. There was altogether some $15,000 on tlie bank counter within reach of the thieves. Mexican Water-carriers. A Mexican watei-carrier is always an oddly-dressed fellow. He looks some thing like tlie man one met **one misty inoisty morning,” who was clothed all in leather. He has a leather cap, jack et and trousers, the last reaching only to his knees and held aside with bright buttons of silver, so as to show’ the white drawers beneath. Down the front of his jacket, too, and around the rim of his cap are bright buttons. Fastened at his side is a leather wallet Holding his money. On his feet are tw’o stout leather straps, holding two iugs of earthenware, one resting on his back and the other hanging in front. He begins work early in the morning. If you go into any of the public squares in the city of Mexico, you will then see a great many of them all seated around the stone basin and nu3y preparing for the day’s work. They reach far over the edge, and dip- ing up the water, fill their large jug. Throwing that on their backs, the} reach down once more and fill the smaller one, and then trot off and visit the different houses of the city, and sell the families what water they want. You would say, perhaps, it was a heavy load to carry ty the head and neck, but the carrier does not seem to mind it, for he is very strong and the jugs just balance each other. It is said an Englishman was ouce told of this bal ance, and to see if it were so, he waited until a carrier came along, and then with his cane broke one of the jugs. Alas! Down came the man’s jugs and ill his balance surely was gone. Wa- tef has to be brought about in this manner because none runs in the houses by lead pipes, as with us. Ii all comes from near the old castle ol Chapultepec, three or four miles from the city. It runs over great stone ac- queducts, built by Cortes, and when ii reaches the public square falls into the stone basins of the city. So you see, it makes these carriers almost like our milkmen, only they do not come with a fine horse and carriage, and do not make nearly as much. Tney only get a few cents each day. How hard they work, too. Busy from morn till eve, always earnest, harly ever smiling always on a little ludian trot, they go about from house to house, and then when the day’s work is over, what a life they lead. They have no home to go too, either; they live in the streets, sleep in the gutter or on the cathedral stone steps, and often, I fear, get so be fogged on “pulque,” the national drink that they do not care whether they have a home and a good bed or not. Think what a miserable existance, not knowing liow to read, dressing as those before them did three hundred years ago, and doing nothing but car rying water about the city. Everyday they will go into the great cathedral and say their prayers. They put their jugs down beside them, clasp their hands, raise their eyes to the Image of their patron saint, and present their requests or their thanks, and then tak ing a last look at the gold candlesticks and rich ornaments, will hurry away and continue their hard, uninteresting labors. A New Book. She entered the store. She w’as young, neat and modestly attired in black, and had a face of rather classic beauty, while her shapely hands were holding a pencil and a book. The store was full of customers and there was every appearance of a rush of business, but one luckless clerk walking behind the counter chanced to stop, and tlie young lady began : “1 have a new book here which I am selling ” “I don’t think I care to—” began the clerk; but the young lady continued: “The author is a famous one, and it is said by all that this is his best work.” “I have other business—if you will kindly excuse me,” said the clerk, but the book agent stopped him with : “You see this is a new business for me and I hope you won’t rid yourself of me in this way.” The clerk explained that he had no wish to slight her,” whereupon the persistent little beauty resumed: “I am not ashamed to say that I am in want and have decided to perioot my sell in short-hand reporting. That’s why I am so anxious to sell you a book. I will not deliver it until next month. I do wish you w ould take one, it would help me. You can pay for it so easly. I will tell you how to save $2. You need only save four cents a day and it would help me gain my object. I as sure you 1 would appreciate it, for I am very anxious. That’s w hy I work day’s and sttdy nights. On my list here— I have just came from Toledo—I have the names ” How long she would have continued in this strain it is impossible to say, as the clerk gasping for breath, abruptly left her to attend to another customer who had just entered the store. Growing English Ivy. The Toad Market of Paris. I have heard many people complain that they could not keep English ivies, because they grow so slowly, and that they could not afford to wait for a small vine to grow to any considerable size. While visiting my old home, the past summer, I made many calls, and among them, one upon a lady, who is noted tlirougliout the village, for the beauty of her ivies. Though com paratively young plants, they were stalky, while the leaves were of that glossy-green w'hicli is seldom seen on plants outside the green house. I asked he , after having ad mired the plants sufficiently, “What is the secret of your success?” She assured me that it was no secret, adding, “I put a piece of beefsteak at tlie roots ev**ry Spring and Fall, and this is the result.” “But does not the odor of the decaying beef annoy you?” “It never has and w r hy should it, won’t people fid the pots half full of stable rich ness. and never even think of offensive odors?” On my return to Worcester I put some steak, a piece perhaps two inches square, under the roots of my ivy, and in a week or two it began to run, and has grown very rapidly ever since. Now, perhaps other decaying matter would do as well, but I can truely recom mend the steak as having been tried. Ma- up say that too much richness will kill the plant, but I know from experience that vines, all kinds of ivies, air plants and Ma- deiras cannot have too much. Use a mixed dressing, such as has been made rea dy for the garden, two thirds of this and one of common earth, and your vines will grow rank and beautiful, astonishing you with large leaves and stout stems. Tlie Vanilla It** i at the Mauritius. Of late years the cultivation of vanilla has been introduced, the high price of the bean attracting attention. This was not always the case, when its only use was a flavoring essence; now it has been found to be of great assistance in silkdyeing, and the de mand for it became much increased. It is a heavy, sluggish-looking plant, climbing up the stick or trunks of trees near, while it is planted in a serious sort of way. The leaves are flat and thick, and the pods hang in clusters from the joints of the stems. The flowers have to be impregnated by hand, and great care is used in handling and drying them. The pods are at first green, when dry they turn black, and if properly prepared exude beautiful needle- shaped crystals. Shade is absolutely neces sary to the plants, and the circumstance is taken advantage of by the proprietors, who plant the vines in rows under the shrubber ies winch adorn tiieir gardens. Thieves were not long in finding out the value of the beans, and for a time the new industry received a check owing to their depredation until a law was passed containing the most stringent provisions for its protection. A St. Louis ucik i? named Gasbill. Unhappy man. Everybody disputes him. By the Jardin des Plantes, in the old and quaint quarter of St. Marcel, you will find every Wednesday morn ng from spring to autumn, a very curious market place. It is as simple as a to bacco “brake” and more enlivening than the coffee market, at the same hour, at least. Passing down Rue Geoffroy, St Hillaire, at this ear'y hour (7 to 9 a.m.) your attention is called to an open space of ground, separated by a boarding from the street by a notee like unto that which greets the ears of tired Senators when the sun of day is meeting the twilight hour, and all frogdoui on the bauks of the Washing ton canal is chorusly joyous and loud! We approach this market place so full of simplicity and sound. Young men in blue blouses, black silk caps (like tbo«e our tourists are wont to put in their rockets in America) pert faces, jaunty big finger-rings, dandy boots, greasy hair—parted down the middle—and prim mustaches, are the venders. In one hand they bold a lit tle stick, and when the sounds alluded to grow heathenish, whack goes the stick on the top of a barrel whence these diabolical noises emanate, and si lence reigns. The toads are momen tarily dumb. We know there is a good deal of unlovable sentiment arrayed against toads, yet toads are full of love sentiment. A toad carries all its young in a most loving and sentimental cian- nei, and why should not like beget like, if there be any truth in the doctrine of Aristotle. Much bad blood and malig nity is got up against toads. This one of the young men in blouse tells me, in a foppish, half-philosophical way. Barrels of toads! Think of it! Bar rel! packed like barrels of potatoes! “Selling at 2 francs; 4 to 6 francs a dozen, prime toads! nice toads!” Who buys them? Vegetable gardeners. Why ? For the reason that toads devour the insects that otherwise would devour the vegetables. Who devour the toads ? Contrary to some ideas—not the French people. But Loads are being sold now, cot devoured, and it is with the selling we are intereste 1. How do they vend them? Young man in blouse bares his arm and thrusts his open hand into the slimy swim and brings up two, three or four gymnastic toads, wriggling and writhing. He points out their merits and delivers them in a box by the doz en to the eager market gardener, who takes bis choice and pays his price. Tlie buying and selling is done expedi- iously and quietly, the only noise be- in£toady-like, and that is subdued much mjre easily by the vender’s baton than lajger and more noisy creatures in Congress comply with the Speaker’s irvllet. The license revenue to the Government is great, while the profit the vendors is greater, arising from t/is other peculiar Parisian baseness, twe selling of toads. I address myself aToflc of the merchants: Permit me to ask if you have been long in this busi ness?” Merchant looks at me and la conically replies: “Born at it!” Then I resume and say, encouragingly: ,'You know a good deal about it?” He l*oks at me again and replies: “All !” i uneasy as to his feelings, there fore change the attack by asking: “Does is pay well ?” He deigns not to look at me now, but replies “It does!” I be gin to think he is as monosyllabic as a oad, and wonder if he has caught .heir habits, as some people do certain peculiarities that mark them in their Ct ades, such as tailors, shoemakers, car penters and printers. “Do you suffer much loss by death in packing the toads all of a mass in a barrel?” “Ido not!” “Is it expensive to cultivate them!” “It is!” (“1 vow tnefellow is a toad,” I mentally say to myself.) “How do you care for them and propagate them ?*’ “We dont care much, and they propa gate themselves!” (Now I know he is a load.) “Where?” “Marshes and rockeries!”“Doyou never feed them?” “Never!” “How do they th*»y live?” “Pretty well!” (Vile toad!) “Have you a large supply?” “Too large!” I now look upon him as the concentrat ed assemblage of many toads, and 1 leave him, as he sings and looks as sim ple as a Rafael le in a blouse selling toads! Inner Paris, indeed thou art full ot paradoxes and peculiarities sel dom seen outside! Lost in the Desert. Major Thornburg, and his command recently became bewildered in the Sand Hills of Nebraska, when in pursuit ol the Cheyenne Indians. The tale is thus told. The march had been through a country which is a geograp hical blank, and a desert untenanted by scarcely a living thing. The wag on trains were abandoned at the Platte river, two of them being stuck in the quicksand. The men took two days’ rations on their saddles and started nortnward toward While Tail creek, where the scouts reported the savages encamped. A fog so dense that it ob scured objects twenty yards away be wildered the scouts, and, before they struck the trail, eight miles a way twen ty miles had been traversed in object less detours, and the savages had es caped. Their camp fires were still smouldering and their trail was still fresh. The column pushed on with scouts supposed to know all about the country, but they proved their utter ignorance by leading the column through an inaccessible country and losing the trail. The track of the sav ages was finally discovered by member.- of Thornburgh’s staff, and the cal van moved on at the highest possible speed. We made a dry camp underneath the hills, where a semi-circle of rifle-pit? had been dug in the sand. We pressed the savages so closely that twenty po nies had been abandoned, and near the rifle pits there were some with pack? on their backs, all wet with sweat. During the night the Iudians were heard around the camp, but the scout? were unable to strike them. The com mand w r as in the saddle before day break, following the trail, which led to ward the south. Seventy-five miles had fcaan traversed without a drop of water. The day was hot and dusty, and mei and animals suffered frightfully. A private of Company H of the Fourtl Iu fan try, dismounted by the falling o his horse, was left on the road to wail for Mauck’s command, which was fol lowing twenty miles in our rear, Tw< hours after the column passed out oi sight he was attacked by several Indi ans. He took refuge in the rifle-pit* and kept them off tor several hours. Tlie Indians, circling about him poured a hot lire upon him, and, although en tirely exhausted, he escaped unhurt. Mauk’s command appearing in sight just after the Indians bad succeeded in shoot ing the trigger off his gun. We reach ed a smail creek near the North Platte river on Sunday noon. The men were almost unable to articulate from the efleet of their torturing thirst. The wagon-train, left in the rear, was at tacked by fiiteeu Indians. The guard repelled the assault until the arrival of Mauk. All the scouts who had been engaged deserted the expedition, and Col. Thornburg could only push on in a northern direction in hopes ol striking the trail. Finally we struck the great sand hills ot Nebraska. The sand was knee deep to the horses and was carried by the wind In blinding clouds. Ceaseless currents of wind piled it up in monstrous castles or whirled it up into drifts like snow The troop marched forty-five miles without water and with no food save a little hard-tack ami raw bacon. Just as the sun was going down our glasses revealed a lake in the distance. We reached it at 8 o’clock, but found it to be bitterly alkaline. The next day we struck Carlton’s trail and followed it, abandoning all hopes of intercepting the Indians. The best horses in the command were sent forward bearing couriers, to ask Carlton’s assistance. We marched forty miles and passed en route a camp made by Carlton’s men. Horses and men dropping out of Carlton’s command from exlmu-iion, came straggling into our camp, near an alkali lake, at l 11 hours during the night. Wednesday morning the prob ability that the whole command would perish in the sand was generally dis- cueased. New couriers were sent for ward, and every effort made by the commanding officer to relieve the in creasing distress of the troops. He succeeded at 3 o’eloik in commmnicat- ing with Carlton, nda an hour later we camped on the headquarters of the Snake river, where Carlton’s relief met us. Tiie horses were so thin that the men almost pulled them over in at tempting to mount. The expedition is a complete failure so far as the renegade Cheyennes is concerned. It failed because iliy fitted out, some thing for which Thornburg cannot be held responsible. Another cause of the failure was the unreliability of the scouts furnished the expedition. The d**partmeut of the Plane was outgen eraled. The savages baffled the troops at every point, and led them into the sand hills, iroui which they might nev- • have < Taking a Census. Philosophy. Two boys went to hunt grapes. One w’as happy because they iound grapes. The other w’as unhappy because they had seeds in them. Two men, being convalescent, were isked Vow they were. One said: “ am better to-day,” the other said: •** was w orse yesterday.” When it rains one man says: “Thi* will make mud.” Another: “Thi? will lay the dust.” Two children looking through color ed glasses one said: “The world is blue.” And the other said: “It is bright.” • Two boys eating their dinner, one said: “I would rather have some thing better than this.” The other said : “This is is better than nothing. A servant thinks a man’s hmise i* principally kitchen. A guest that it i> principally parlor. “I am glad that I live,” says one man. “1 am sorry that I must die, says another. “I am glad,” says one, “that it is no worse.” “I am sorry” says another, “that it is no better.” One man counts everything he has a gain. Anothef counts everything else that he conceives a loss. One man spoils a good repast by thinking of the better repast of another A nothor enjoys a poor repast by con trasting it with none at all. One man is thankful for his bless ings. Another is morose for his mis fortunes. Oue man thinks he is entitled to a better world, and is dissatisfied because he hasn’t got it. Another thinks he i^ not justly entitled to any, and Is satis* fled with this. One man makes up his accounts from his wants. Another from his assets. Never gave you a History of my census ! taking I believe. Well, I took Jim Walk er’s place w’hile he was up at Chicago, and ' I had some tough customers, I tell you. I j came along one day to a cabin some four or j live miles from any neighbors ; in answer ; to my knock an old woman about forty | came to the door. “How d’ye do? Walk in; folks all • gone; take a cheer; were you wantin’ to 1 see my old man ?” “No, madam,” said I, after accepting; her invitation, “I am taking the census.” “The who ?” said she. “The census of the people, the ” “O, lor’; well, you won’t find much sense in the people about here, the fever’n ager’s shook it all out on ’em.” I proceeded to explain. “Dear suz, I thought you might be a magnetism man or a frenologer. ” I proceeded to get her husband’s name and age, also the children; but when I asked her age, she came down on me flat; I smoothed it over, however, and let go. Riising, I said : “Is there any one else in your family ?” “There’s aunt Sally, but you don’t want her name, do you?” “Certainly, ma’am,” I replied, and pro ceeded to take it at once. “'rhen there’s old Jerry, but he’s eena- most gin out this fall. I don’t think the poor feller’ll last to another spring.” “Jerry—what is his other name ?” “We never call him nothing else.” “How old is he?” “Why, let me see; fifteen, twenty, twenty-six—he must be hard onto thirty 1” “An old man at thirty ?” “Old man! Who’s talking about old man? I’se telling you about old an hoss.” Perhaps I didn’t pick up my hat—per haps I didn’l take a very hasty leave—well, perhaps not. Golden Words to Young Men. Jerrv ltlnck’x story. Judge Black, oi Pennsylvania, tells a comical story of a trial in which a German doctor appeared tor the defence in a case for damages brought against a client of his by the object of his as sault. The eminent jurist soon recog nized in his witness, who was produc ed as a medical expert, a laboring man who Some years and in another part of the country had been engaged by him as a builder of post-and-rail fences. With this clue he opened his cross-ex amination. “You say, Doctor,” he be gan with great deference and suavity, “that you operated upon Mr. ’s head alter it was cut by Mr. *s?” ‘Oh, yaw,” replied the ex-fence- builder; “me d » dat; yaw, yaw.” “Was the wound a severe one, Doc tor?” Enough to kill him if I did not save his life.” “Well, Doctor, what did you do for him ?” “Exeryting.” “Did you perform the Caesarian oper ation ?” •Oh, yaw, yaw ? if me not do dat he die.” “Did you decapitate him ?” “Yaw, yaw; me do dat too.” “Did you hold a post-mortem examin ation ?” “Oh, to be schure, Schudge; me al ways do dat.” “Well, now, Doctor,” and here the Judge bent over in a friendly and fa miliar way, tell us whether you sub mitted your patient to the process known among professional men as post-and-rail-fenciorum?” Tlie mock doctor drew himself up in dignantly. “Scherry Plack,” says he, “1 always know’d you vas a tam jay- liawk lawyer, an’ now I know you lor a tam mean man.” “ War’s Jim?*’ Never complain that your employers are selfish. Not that they are otherwise, but it will not help matters to growl about it. I'hey are selfish. Their employers, when they were young, were no doubt selfish, and from them they learned the lesson. You, ton, will learn it, and when you become employers you’ll be selfish too. It is from selfish motives that men engage in trade, and selfishness rules their actions. Of course it would be better and wiser, and all that, if they were not selfish, but they are. Now what are you going to do about it ? Why, make it for their selfish interest to do better by you, and they will. Respect yourselves, and you’ll make them respect you. Remember that you are at a disad vantage, that there are a hundred ready to climb into your place if you do not fill it, and that those who employ you are fully aware o: the fact and ready to make the most they can out of it. Remember that if j you are getting $1,000 this year and want j $1,500 next yea r , you have got to earn the | $1,500 this year. You’ve got topayforpro- j motion, often an exorbitant price, and as j you have no other means to pay with, you’ve got to pay in work. Of course its j unjust, of course it seems hard that your , employer should keep and spend money . that you have justly earned, but it won’t pay to fret about it. Never be satisfied , with having “earned your money.” Earn ; more than your money, and then, in a man- i ly, straightforward, business-like way, ask for more pay. Ten chances to one you’ll get it. If you don’t, look about, and as soon as you’ve fouad a better place, dis charge your employer. The hard work that you have done, the record of it, and the reputation you will have established for hard work, will make the task of finding new employment comparatively easy. Your capacity for work is your only capi tal. Invest heavily and you are sure to win. A great big good-natured fellow about 25 years of age came along to a feed store on Michigan avenue where two men were end ing up a bale of hay, and calling to them to stand aside he flung the bale around as if be were playing with a quarter sack of flour. Tlie act called forth the admiration of all bystanders, and the man in charge of tlie store winked the giant man aside and said: “You arc the man I’ve been looking for. In the hay department down stairs we have a young fellow of 18 who thinks he can clean out anything wearing boots, and I’m anxious to have him taken down a peg or two. If you'll go down and pick him up and mop him around a few times I'll give you half a dollar. Don’t hurt him, but just bounce him around and take the con ceit out of him.” The big man descended the cellar stairs, and when he struck the last step he called out in an awful voice: “Wherein blazes is that fellow called Jim? I’ve walked seven miles this morn ing to mash him to a jelly and fifty dollar bills won’t buy him off!” “ Here I am 1” came a voice from behind the bales, and the giant was heard feeling his way along and growling to himself: “Thinks he runs this town, does he? All I want in this world is to git my paws on him for about the millionth part of a second!” His wish was gratified. Those stand- ihg at the door above heard a shook and a struggle, quick gasps and a tussle and the giant suddenly appeared without his hat, his nose all bloody and hair on end. He was in a hurry. He halted just long enough to cast a glance of reproach at the feed store man, and then he hopped over a consignment of oats and was lots on the street. Lol.sU'lH Ml* I'lHyttllUgH. Not long ago, in Sweden, two girls used to watch for an old boatman who, in the season, would bring up the fiord or creek, a whole boatload of lobsters at a time. Then the girls would beg their nurse Johanna to let them play with the queer things. Gen erally, leave would be given, and the sisters would fetch indoors with great glee as many of the lobsters as they wanted, and stand them up all around their play-room, stroking each on the head as they did so, and thus putting it to sleep. They had to keep a sharp eye on the creatures, though, and, as soon as one threatened to wake, or waved its terrible claws, they had to run and tickle it on the head—when it would go off to sleep again at once! Lizzie says it was funny to see these play-soldiers—“ma rines,” she calls them—standing up stiff and straight, as though they were on the best behavior at parade drill! Before you try this game, be sure that you have the right kind of lobsters to deal with, for it would be awkward if they should turn on you and give you tit for tat by *, stroking” and “tickling"’ you in their fashion with their claws. —Flour made from the wheat crop of 1879 is in the market. —it is proposed to reduce the next President’s salary to $25,000. —Tne great fires in Cuba have caus ed a loss of over $100,000,000. —The railroads of the world would encircle it seven times and have 10,000 miles to spare. —Twentv Western railroads show an increase of one and a half per cent, for April over the same month last year. —The value of the cotton crop in Florida last year is estimated at $400,- 000. —The annual crop of tobacco leaf is about $420,000,000 pounds, two-thirds of which is exported. —Potatoes are twenty-live cents per bushel in Colorado, and $1.25 per bushel in Massachusetts. —Recently there have been deposited in the streams of North Carolina 2,000,- 000 young shad. —Twenty-five thousand live quail are being imported from England to be set at liberty iu Pennsylvania. —Out of the 49.118 children of sphool age in Cleveland, Ohio, 16,633 do not attend any school. —One hundred thousand pieces of cal ico of thirty vaHs each are produced every week in the United States. —The yield of wheat per acre in Wes tern Maryland is declared to be unpre cedented. —The new constitution of California goes into effect the first day of July next. The old oue dates back to 1&49. —During the season just closed the Boston Sewing Circle has made 10,400 pieces of clothing for the poor of that city. —The population of Spain and the ad jacent islands is .6 625.860, including 40 741 foreignerv. This is an iucrea&e of 952,324 since I860. A beet sugar manufactory is to be established at New Hamburg, Canada, with a capital of $26,000, all raised among the farmers ot the vicinity. —At a colored people’s wedding in Cincinnati the other day the bride was presented by her parents with a hand some residence and $60,000 in cash. —There were nine failures In'Oiifca- ) during April, with liabilities amounting to $182,000 ami assets (nom inal) of$119,000. —During April 10,000,000 paper bags were made by a factory at Bailston Spa, and j’et the supply falls short of the de mand. —The Dominion’s revenue ha9 fallen off $3,348,157 since 1873-74 though lia bilities and maturing obligations have been on the increase. —Mr. Charles L. Flint, the State Agricultural Secretary of Massachu eits has been elected President of the Am herst Agricultural College. —Mr. Millais’s picture, “The Order of Release,” was sold the other day iu London for $14,175. He painted it iwenty-five years ago for 2,000 —Nine thousand dollars have been subscribed iu Rochester for an observa tory for Prut. Lewis Swift, and the building will soon be commenced- There are in tho primary. Interme diate and grammar schools of Provi dence, R l„ 252 teachers, only nine of horn am men. —The elevation of the Rev. D*\ John Henry Newman to the dignity of a Car dinal took place at Rome on the 5th of May. He is to be know n in church annals as Cardinal St. George. —During the flrst quarter of the pre sent year, there were 412 fires in New York City, involviug a total loss of $4,- 075,178. The uninsured los» amounted to only $110,625. —The arrearage of pensions accounts have thus fa rave raged about eight hun dred and fifty dollars, or four times as large as the estimate reported to Con gress. —The sugar and ri< e crops of Louis iana sold last year foi more than $20,- 000.000. They were produced on less than one fifth of tlie cultivated acreage of the State. —A leather bag, containing $25,000 w’as recently found iu a Loudon bil liard saloon, where it was left under a 3ettee by its careless owner. He recov ered it next day. —There is a snowdrift in Tucke man’s ravine, Mount Washington, 3J feet deep, with an arch of 150 feet. The heart has been cut out by the —The choir of the New England church, at Boston, will contain 80 sopranos, 75 altos, 65 tenors, and So ba??os next year, with 16 additional yoices for solos- - Recent reports show that of the 2,400 organizations of Young Men’s Christian Associations throughout the world, 1,000 are in America. This American group own fifty-six buildings and properly valued at $2,500,000. —The excess ot exports over imports for the last twelve mouths reached tne enormous total of $283,000,000, against $199,000,000 for the year ending with March, 1878, show ing a net increase of our foreign commerce of $84,000. — In Mississippi there are 348,244 pu pil children—158,156 white,auJ 190,088 colored. Of these, 100,676 white and 104.779 colored attended school. The school fund lor the past year amount ed to $626.268—per capita in average daily attendance, $4.42. —War balloons, 0113 of them contain ing thirty-eight thousand cubic feet, are being got in readiness for transfer from London to the seat of the Zulu war. The practicability of sending up a fresh supply of gas to a balloon, while it is iu the air, has been demon strated. —Accord ing to Mr. E. G. Ravenstein, of the London Statistical Society, the lri>h-Gaelle language is still spoken by 867,6U0 persons in the British Islands; tiie Manx, bv 12.500 parsons; Scotch Gaelic, by 309,256; Welsh, by 1,000,100, jnaking a total of 2,195,450, or nearly seven per cent, of the whole population. —An absent-minded lady called at a jewelry store, in Fort land, Me., sever al days ago, aud before entering she left her baby in its carriage at the door. She finished her purchase and went home. The jewele.* was finally at tracted by the chfld’s crying and to^k it into the store and amused it with some trinkets until its mother having missed the baby, returned lor it in about two hours. —The crypt under the Centre Church l New Haven Green, Conn., has re cently been repaired. There are 170 slabs iu it and 13 tablets, 'lhe oldest legible iuscrip ion is **Mrs. Sarah Ruth erford Trow bridge, wile of Thomas Trowbridge,” who died in 1687. The slab w hicli bears the name of Mrs. Re becca Hayes, great-great-granomother of President Hayes, is well preserved. In the crypt are also the remains of Mrs. Margaretta, the first wife-of Ben edict Arnold, who died in 1775, before her husband’s treason.