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■?* Wkt GfriartBum ^dmUer. Offlee, WAREHOUSE STREET, qjMtZ Journal qf Folk and Haralson Counties. Advertisements inserted at the rate of $1 .per -square for first insertion, and BO cents per square for each subsequent insertion. The space of one inch is reckoned as a square. Special rates given on advertisements to run for a longer period than one month. The D. B. FREEMAN. PufeKalier, 4T LABORING FOR Advertiser COMMON WEAL. TERMS: $1 50 Per Annum, in Advance. LI) SERIES—YOL. X- NO. 42. CEDARTOWN. GA., THURSbAY, NOVEMBER 15. 1883. NEW SERIES-VOL. Y-NO. 49. Ihe CfdaitoitB gdmtfew. Remember, when the timid Dawn uncloses Her magic palace to the sun's bright beams. Remember, when the pensive night reposes Beneath her silvery veil in tender dreams, When pleasures call thee, when thy heart Is light, When to sweet Dancies shade invitee at night, List, through the deep woods ring, Sweet voices, murmuring Remember! Remember, when Fate’s cruel hand has broken For aye the tie that bound my life with > thine; -When, with long years and exile, grief un spoken, Despairing heart and blasted hopes are . mine. Think of my love, think of my last adiea, Absence and time are naught when love is "true. Long as my heart shall beat, - Ever it shall repeat, Remember! when beneath the cold ground My ttbken heart forever is at rest, Remember, when some lovely flower Is trying Its petals soft to open on my breast, Than wilt not. See me; bnt my soul, set free, i Faithful in death shall still return to thee) Then hark to the sad moans * ' Of a deep voice that groans, Remember! A CHANCE word. Myra Sidney was sitting in the wh|i dow of her little parlor waiting the stow rising of a storm over the opposite sky. Even city streets have their opportun ities. This street in which Miss Syd ney dwelt was in the outskirts of a su burb, where building lots were still ge nerously measured. It ran along the ridge of a slope, and Miss Sydney’s house had the further advantage ot standing opposite a group of vacant lots, beyond which, above the roofs and chimneys on the lower streets, a line of Hue hills was visible, topped with woods and dappled with cloud shadows. Many an autumn sunset had she watched fromher front windows; many a soft spring rain and whirling snow storm. To some natures there are both companionship and compensation In tin changeful aspects of nature. Myra wal one or these. She would not have ex changed her little house with its wide view for any other, however magnifi cent, whose boundaries were brick walls alone; and sky, and sun, and bill, made for the leisure moments of her busy life a perpetual and unvarying feast. The room in which Miss Sydney sat expressed its owner, as rooms will, whether meant to do so or not. In no respect of size or shape did it differ from No. 11 on one side, or ISO. 13 bn the other, yet its aspect was anything rather than common-place. The pre vailing tint on the wall and floor was a soft olive, wnich made a background for brighter colored things; for the old Indian shawl, which did duty as a por tiere; for a couple of deep-hued rugs; for picture* of various old rather tohn^alualjfe^iut soci as to he in thorough haimony with its surroundings. Everything had a use. No pitfalls yawned for unwary guests in the shape of minute tables. Queen Anne or other wise, laden with trumpery biscuit or Sevres, and ready to upset with a touch. A couple of short old-fashioned sofas flanked the fireplace on either side, two or three easy-cbairs and a firm-set, low table, laden with books and periodicals, completed a sort of circle where ten or a dozen persons could group themselves around the blaze. Miss Sydney herself, slight, vivid, and very simply dressed, but without an ungraceful point or fold, was in accordance with her room. The clock struck seven. The black cloud had crept to the zenith, and now a strong gust of wind swept from be neath it, bringing on its wings the first drop of rain. Miss Sydney rose and shut the window. At that moment the door-bell rang. “It’s two girls with a parcel, Miss Myra,” said Esther the parlor-maid, “They’d like to speak with you, they say.” Miss Sydney went out into her little entry. The girls about the same age, were of the unmistakable shop-girl type. “You are from Snow & Asher’s, I think?” she said in her courteous voice. ‘•Yes’m. Mr. Snow said he wasn’t sure which of the underwaists it was that you took, so he sent both kinds, and you will try ’em on, please?” “Certainly. Are you to wait for them?” “Yes’m.” Miss Syduey made what haste she could, but before she returned the rain was falling in torrents. “You must wait till it slackens,” she said. “You’ll be very wet if you don’t. Have you far to go?” “She has,” replied one of the girls, with an embarrased giggle. “I’m pretty near by, and the horse-cars run just in front of the door. But Cary has to walk quite a long way, and hershoes are thin, ton. She’d better wait, I guess, but I must go, anyway.” Miss Sydney glanced at the shoes— cheap, paper-soled boots, with a dusty velvet bow sewed on the toe of each, and she, too, concluded that by all meads “Cary” must wait. “Come in here,” she said, leading the way into the parlor. Esthar had now lighted the lamp. A little fire sparkled on the hearth. Myra drew an easy chair close to it. “Sit down and have a thorough warming.” she said. “Itis a chilly evening.” “Yes’m.” The girl thrust the velvet-bowed shoes, which gaped for lack of buttons, out to the fire, and half from embarrass ment, held up a hand to shade her face. It was a small hand, with an ambiguous red gem on the forefinger. The nails were all bitten to the quick, Miss Syd ney noticed. The face shaded by the hand was not unpretty. The brown eyes had a straight-forward, honest glance, the mouth was rather sweet, there was that delicacy of modeling, just bordering on fragility, which gives to the early youth of so many American women a fleeting charm. It was a face which softly banded hair and a low knot would suit; but with the bad taste of ner class, “Cary” had adopted the style of coiff ure which became her least. All the front hair was an unkempt tangie of “bang.” At the back was a mass of jute switches, braided and surrounded with a gilt comb, and on the top of the erection was perched a straw hat lined with blue, and ornamented with a be draggled cock’s tail. The dress, of cheap material, was blue also, and was frilled and flounced into a caricature of the prevailing fashion. A ruffle of soiled lice surrounded the girl’s neck, beneath which, over a not over-clean muslin tie.hting a smart locket of yellow me tal--very yellow. Bangles clinked round the slender wrists. Beneath the puffed and ruffled skirt a shabby petti coat of gray cotton peeped out. Though the weather was chilly the girl wore no wrap. Miss Sydney noted these details in half the time it has taken to describe them, and stirred with a pity that was half indignation, she said: “My child, how could you think of coming out on such a day as this with out a shawl?” “I haven’t any sbatofcr “Well, a jacket, then.’’ “I haven’t any jacket, either, that matches this dress,” glancing compla cently down at the bernffled skirt. ‘‘But you would rather wear a jacket that didn’t match your diessthau catch a. cold, wouldn’t you? “Yes,” admitted the girl, in rather an unwilling tone. “But the only one I’ve got is purple, and it looks horrid with this blue.” Noting dissentrinber companion’s face, she added: “We poor girls can’t have a wrap for every dress, tike rich ladies do. ” “No,” said Miss Sydney, gently. “I know it. I never attempted to have a different wrap for each dress I wear, 1 cannot afford it either.” ‘Cary stated.” “Howqueerl” she began, then changed it to. “But you and us are quite different, ma’am.” There was something wistful in the face which touched Myra Sydney, will be time wasted, 1 dare toy,” sbe said to herself, ‘-still, I should Uke, just for once, to argue out the dress-ques tion with a girl like this. She is one of a great class, and, poor tilings, they are so dreadfully foolish and ignorant ” She made no immediate reply to her companion, but rose and rang the bell “I am going to give you a cup of tea,’ she said. “Hark! how it rains. You cannot go yet, and you wiU be less like ly to take cold when you do go, if you start weU warmed. Besides, I was’nt to have you stay. 1 should like to have a Uttle talk over the question of (Hess, which is interesting to aU us women.” She smUed brightly at her guest, who, if dazzled, watched the entrance of lie tray with its bubbling kettle, its Crisp, dainty cakes: watched Myra measure the tea, warm the pot of gay Japanese ware, and when the brew was ready, fill the thin-Upped cups and drop in sugar and cream. “How nice!” she said, with a sigh of satisfaction. Her heart opened un der the new, unwonted kindness and comfort, and Miss Sydney had Uttle dif ficulty in learning what she wished to know. Cary Thomas was the girl’s name. She had Uved “at home” tiU two years ago. Hid she Uke the city? Yes, she liked it weU enough, but it was not much like home to board. She and another girl that worked at Snow & Asher’s had a room together out in EareweU street. They hail pretty good times when they were not too full of work, but in the busy season they stayed so late at' the store that they didn’t want anything when they got bojne,except to go straight tombed. They got seven dollars a week, and more when there was extra work to do. “Can you lay up anything out of that?” asked Miss Sydney. “No, ma’m, not a cent; at least, I don’t. ' There are some girls in the store that do, but they’ve got sick friends to save for.” Now,” said Miss Sydney, having thus felt her way, “to go back to the jacket question. As I told you, I can’t at aU afford to have one for every dress.” “Can’t you, ma’m; and what do you do, then?” “I buy one jacket which wiU do with everything I wear.” “But that isn’t a suit,” said Cary doubtfuUy. “No; but is it absolutely necessary that everything should be a suit?” “The girls at our store think so much of suits,” she said In a puzzled tone of self-defence. “I know some people have a fancy for them, and they are very pretty sometimes. But don’t you see that they must cost a great deal of money, and that working people, you and my self for instance, ought to manage more carefully?” Do you work, ma’am?” “To be sure I do. You look sur prised. Ah, you think that because I have a little home of my own, and live in a pretty room, I must be a fine lady with nothing to do. That’s a mistake of vours. I work nearly as many hours a day as you do, and earn the greater part of my own income, and I have to consult economy to keep my home and mane it pleasant, and among the things which Ican’tafford to have,are “suits.” “I wish you’d tell me how you do. ma’am.” “I will, though I’m not in the habit of talking quite so freely about my af fairs, but I’ll tell you, because it may give you an idea of how to manage bet ter for yourself. In the first place I keep two or three colors. I have a black gown or two, and an olive-brown, and this yellowish-green that you see, and some lighter ones, white or pale yellow. Now with any one of these the same bonnet will do. The one I am wearing now is black, with a Uttle jet and pale yellow, and it goes perfectly well with all my dresses, and so does my black cashmere jacket, and my pa rasol and gloves, which are yellow also. Don’t you see that there is an economy in this, and that if I had a purple dress, and a blue one and a brown, 1 should want a different bonnet for each, and different gloves and different parasols?” “Why, yes, it does seem so,” said Cary, drawing a long breath. “I’d like to do something different myself, but I don’t suppose I’d knowhow ” “Would you mind if I told you what think?” asked Myra, gently. “No’m, I’d thank you.” “It seems to me that thechief trouble with girls who work in stores is that they care more for being what they caU ‘stylish’ than for being either neat or pretty. A young girl can look her best in a simple dress, if it is weU put ou and becoming.” “That’s what mother used to say. And Mark, he always likes me best in a white bibapron. To be sure, he never saw me in city clothes”—she stopped, blushing. “Is Mark your brother?” asked Myra. Then she smiled at her own stupidity, for such a deep flush as mantled in Cary’s cheek is seldom evoked by the mention of a brother. “No’m, he’s just—a friend. His folks and mine Uve opposite. “In Gilmanton, and he is a former?” “His father forms, and Mark works for him, but bis time is out in the spring, and then he calculates toup set for himself.” “Does he ever come to the city?” “No, not once since I was here, but he speaks some of coming down along toward spring, and that’s one reason I like to look as stylish as I can, so’s not to be different from the rest when Mark comes.” “I think in his place I should prefer you to be different,” said Miss Sydney, decidedly. ‘Now, Caiy, don’t be of fended, but what you girls aim at is to look like the ladies who come to the shop, isn’t it?—‘stylish’—as you would say?” Yes; I suppose it is,” admitted Cary. Well, then, I must tell you the plain truth; you utterly foil in your attempt. No one would mistake a girl, dressed as you are at the moment, for a lady ; nobody!—but”—disregarding the deep flush on her companion’s cheek—“if I went into a shop, and saw there a young lady as pretty and as delicately made as you are, Cary, with hair as smooth as satin, and a simple gown that fitted ex actly, and a collar and cuffs as white as snow, and perhaps a black silk apron or a white one, and with neat shoes and white stockings—if I saw a girl dressed like that, with nothing costly, nothing that any girl cannot have, but every thing fresh and neat and pretty, I should say to myself, ‘There is a shop girl with the true instincts of a lady.’ And Cary—don’t think me impertinent —if Mark came to town and saw a girl tike that among the crowd of untidy, over-dressed ones at Snow & Asher’s, I think the contrast would strike him as it would me—agreeably!” Miss Sydney paused, half frightened at her own darling. Cary looked stead ily into the fire without speaking. The rain had ceased. Myra rose and threw back the blind, revealing the moon struggling through the edges of cloud. Cary followed her to the window. Her cheeks were a deep red, but there was a frank and grateful look in her eyes as she said: I must be going now, ma'am. You’ve been ever so good to let me stay. I shan’t forget it, auu—I guess you’re about right.” T wonder if I said the right thing, or have done the least good?” queried Miss Sydney, as she watched her guest depart. It was some weeks before she had oc casion again-to visit Snow & Asher’s, and she had half forgotten the Uttle in cident, when one day entering the shop in quest of something her attention was attracted by a face which beamed with sudden smiles at the sight of her. It was indeed Cary, but such a different Cary from the draggled vision of the wet evening. She still wore the blue dress, but the flounces had been ripped off, and the front was hidden by a black silk apron. The tangle of hair was smooth like ordhiary waves, a white collar with a knot of blue ribbon was round her ueck; one of the objection able rings had disappeared, and so had the yellow locket. So changed and so much prettier was the little maiden that Miss Sydney scarcely knew her till blush and smile pointed her out. She wailed ou her customer with as siduity, and under cover of a box of raffles - they exchanged'’ confiden ces. Did Miss Sydney think she looked better? She was so glad. The girls had laughed at her at first, but not so much now, and her room-mate, EUen Morris, had got herself an apron like her’s. Miss Sydney left the shop with a pleased amusement at her heart. She meant to go olten, to keep a Uttle bold on Cary, but circumstances took her off to Florida soon afterward, and it was late in AprU when she returned. “That girl from Snow & Asher’s was here to see you about a week ago nia’am,” said Esther, the evening after her arrival. “I told her you was ex pected Tuesday, and she said she would come to-day, for she wanted to speak to you particular, and she was going away. There she is now.” Cary Indeed it was, with a steady, manly looking young feUow by her side. “It is Mark, Miss Sydney,” she said by way of introduction. Later, when Mark had walked over to the window to see the view, she explained further in a rapid undertone; He came down about two months ago, while you was away, ma’am. I came out to teU you, but you was gone, and—day after to morrow I’m—going back with him to Gilmanton. 1 told him he must bring me out to-night, for I couldn’t leave here without saying good bye to you.” “You are going to be married?” “Yes”—with a happy look—“to morrow morning. And oh, Miss Syd ney, what do you think Mark says? He says if he’d found me looking Uke the rest of the girls at the store, with false hair and jewelry and aU that, he’d never in the world have asked me at all. And did look Just like that, you know. It was what you said that rainy night that made me change, and except for that nothing would have happened that has, and I shouldn’t be the girl I am ” “Bread on the waters” thought Myra, as a Uttle later she watched the lovers walk down the street. ’ A DMMUTel Discovery. “Where did these bui» sane from?” and Mis. Popperman pulled three seal old-fashioned burs from her husband’s coat as he lay on the -lounge the other evening. Now, it would have been very easy for Mr. Popperman to have told where the buracame from, but he thought it, would be a good joke to mystify hi» wife, so he pretended to be surprised. “I—I—don’t know.” “Have you been in the country to day?” “No.” “WeU, it’s very singular how a busi ness man can get burs on bis clothes in “WeU, I’U teU you.' The health offi cers have planted burdock bushes on Broadway to purify the air and prevent the horses from having the blind stag gers. Sometimes I brush up against these bushes.” ‘Ohl” Mrs. Popperman eyed her husband suspiciously, but said nothing more. The next morning two more burs were picked from his pants. “Now, I want to know what this sans. I went to New York yesterday on purpose, to see if there was bushes on Broadway. There wasn’t one. Now, I want an explanation.” WeU, I’U teU you, my dear. These are burs. They are the fruit of a re markable tropical plant which is now ou. exhibition at the Fifth Avenue Ho tel. This plant is twenty feet high. Occasionally I go into the hotel, and, whUe standing under the leaves of this plant, the fruit, which resembles burs, drops on my clothes,” ‘What is the name of this singular plant?” “The botanical name is Lumty turn oUus.”" . After Mr. Popperman had departed the next day his wife sought a detec tive. My husband comes home every night with burs on his clothes. Now I want you to foUow him and find out where he goes.” The detective undertook to solve the mystery. No burs on Mr. Poppermau’s clothes that night—nor the next. The tliird night he returned with the usual complement. The next day the detec tive caUed upon Mrs. Popperman. “I’ve discovered aUI” “What! Is my husband then false to me? Does he go to the country to visit some woman, or does be spend his after noons at Central Park?” “I foUowed your husband two days. He attended strictly to his business. Tne third day he left his office about 2 o’clock, and” “Went in the country?” “No ma’am. He came to Brooklyn and rode to the vacant lot which he has just purchased ou Schermerhom street. While superintending the erection of a fence around the lot he often came in contact with the burdock bushes, and there is where he gets the burs. ” “Oh, I am so glad. You have done your work well. Good day, sir.” That evening when Mr. Popperman returned his wife threw her arms around Jus-neck and saki: “My dear, I’m so glad to know that you are not a villain. “What do you mean?” “Well, about those burs, you know. I put a detective on your track and he told me that you got the burs in that lot on Schermerhom Street, and that you are innocent.” “Hal Ha! So you put a detective on my track, did you?” “Yes.” “Good joke;” and Mr. Popperman laid back in his chair and fairly roared with laughter. Yes, dear, and here’s the detective’s bill, which you have got to pay.” “To shadowing Mr. Popperman for three days, at $9 per day, $27. The laughter subsided, and for an hour it was so quiet that you could have heard a bur drop. (Mease, follow Ration # “But Never No More. He had ju3t got his oyster shop opened the pubuc, the other day, when in came a man who ssked: “Got any raws?” “Tes, sir.” “We have some of the largest oysters I ever saw.” The price was asked and given, and as it seemed to be perfectly satisfactory, the man ordered a dozen and added: “I’ve got a slight contraction ol the muscles of the throat, and sometimes I choke. If anything happens to me, run me to the door where I can get the air and then rush ter a drink of water.” The caterer promised to observe the caution, but it was only when the twelfth and last oyster was taken in between two rows of teeth which stood out Uke ten peony nails that anything happened, l'hen the eater suddenly raised one leg, his eyes bulged one, and he began to skip around l kc a goal dodging a club. The cuoke had come. The caterer seized him by the arm and ushered him to the do>r, sod then hurried to the rear end of the restaurant for a glass of water. When he returned with it, hali expecting to see the customer lying on the floor in the agonies of suffo cation, no one was in sight. The man was not in the door, nor at the door, nor around the door. He was two blocks away, and the twelttb oyster had gone down lo keep the company ot the other elevui. Just ex icily another such thing won t happen in that place again. Borne other man with a contracted thrust nay start In to play the game, but before he has eaten his second oyster, he will be dispatched will a hickory club; and his body sent to some medical college, to find where the loose spoke was. Xadtas ot SarlUo at a Boll-Fight. An Alleged Mired*. An account from Lafayette, Indiana, says that Agnes Walter, a youug lady residing in that city, was recently un able to move }tnd was blind; now she walks and can see. Eight years ago she was seized with cerebrospinal meningitis, which left her lower limbs paralyzed. She had gone to Oldens- burg, Ind., to enter a convent, and was taken ill the second day after she ar rived. In a few weeks she was taken home, and for eight years she has been a constant sufferer. The best physi cians of the city have treated her and pronounced her incurable Dr. Yount has been her physician for three years. She was in convulsions most of the time, and these would continue as long as two and three weeks. Dr. Yount states that she presented a most terri ble appearance. For weeks at a time she had no nourishment whatever. Re cently a young lady friend, Miss Kins man,returned from Europe and brought with her some water from the fountain of Our Lady of Lourdes. This Miss Walter has been applying and drinking. A nine days’ season of prayer was be gun by herself and other members of the church. This terminated when she was removed in an unconscious condi tion to the church. She at length was revived, took communion, and instant ly she could see and walk unaided. She believes that prayer did it. Dr. Yount and others pronounce it a most marvel lous case. When the doctor and re porters called, she walked across the room to show that she was indeed cur ed. Her case seems miraculous, and there are many more besides herself who are familiar with the case who at tribute it to the power of prayer. Female Infants, The Chinese custom of killing the female infants of a family is, of coarse, admirably adapted to keep down ex penses and obviate inconveniences, but as public opinion in England could not be reconciled to so simple a remedy, other channels of relief have to be sought in that country. In the case of persons of high position, who groan under the infliction of six or seven daughters, the Queen has in more than one case evinced her royal sympathy by selecting from such quiverfuls her maids of honor; but maids of honor are limited in number, and are generally endowed with a barnacle like tenacity of life and office. Under these circum stances the owners of “We are seven” turn to the sister-hoods, which promise to be to Protestant young ladies the re lief valve that convents have long been to Boman Catholics. There is scarce ly a family of rank now which has not a member among them. The daughter ot an Earl is managing a child’s hospi tal in a provincial town as Sister Some body, “Tne ladies of Spain, except in some towns in the mountain regions, ive laid aside the national costume, and according to the dictate* ot Faria, ’emng even tne French fans to their decorated with the incidents of the fight and the serenade. In Seville, ys a writer, the black lace mantilla still worn at church, and to some ex it an the street; bnt the hat is the iver of the new fashion, more’s the and the high combs hare gone sl ier. 1 do not know why a woman, a plain woman, should be so utterly m a mantilla, thrown over comb and falling gracefully toff shoulders, stepping daintily in high- 4ee'.ed shoes with pointed toes, and moving her large fan with just that non- Aslant air so accurately calculated wound but sot to kill. In the whole assembly I saw only one or two na tional costumes; the mantilla and the high comb, with the short petticoat, brilliant in color. Nothing could be Adre becoming, and u- makes one doubt Whether woman's strongest desire is to (tosse, and whether it is not rather the fashion, when we see a whole abandon such a charming attire. But the white mantilla is de rigueur tor a bull fight, and every lady wore one. b was a little odd to see ladies in the open dght of a brilliant, cloudless day, and the gaze of the public, in tull (as it aalled) costume of the ball-room; but the Creamy-white mantillas softened somewhat be loo brilliant display, - and threw over foe whole the harmony of subdued splen dor. What superb Spanish lace, blonde, soft, with a silken luster, falling in lovely folds that show its generous and exquis itely wrought figures, each leaf and stem and flower the creation of dainty fingers] Such work as this, of such a tone and ineness, in such li'ge mantillas, sweeping bom the head to the train, is scarcely to he found in the shops nowadays. These were heir-looms,—great-great-grand -moth er’s lace, long yellowing, aud growing rich in locked chests, worn only on state occa sions, and now brought forth to make bull’s holiday. “We spent a goxl deal of the waiting time in scrutinizing the packed seats for beautitul women, and, I am sorry to say, with hardly a reward adequate to our anxiety. 1 am not sure how much the beauty ot the women of Seville is tradi tional. They have good points. Graceful figures are not uncommon, and fine teeth; and dark, liquid, large eyes, which they use perpetually in oeillades destructive to peace and security. And the fan, the most deadly weapon of coquetry, gives the eoup de grace to those whom the eyes have wounded. But the Seville women have usually sallow, pasty, dead com plexions. Perhaps the beauty of the skin is destroyed by cosmetics, for there was not a lady at the bull-fight who was not highly rouged and powdered. This gave an artificiality to their appearance an masse.’ Beauty ot feature was very rare, and still rarer was that animation, that stamp ot individual character, loveliness in the play of expression, and spnght liness, that charm in any assembly ot American women. No, the handsome women in the ring were not numerous enough to make any impression on the ^neml-masvr and yet thc-total effect. With the blonde lace, the artificial color, the rich toilet, and the ag.tation of fans, was charming Reform In Prisons. The Hon. Martin H. Bovee, of Wis consin, arrived in Cleveland recently on a temporary visit. The gentleman is a handsome man, apparently about 60 years of age, with a military bearing. His career as a prison reformer dates from his connection with the State Senate of Wisconsin. Bovee believes that the crim inal of 10-day who goes to the State prison is irretrievably ruined. “All pen alties, ” said be, ‘‘should contemplate the reformation of the criminals, aud when reformation is impossible life imprison ment must of necessity be the conse quence. Society must protect itself. Whenever any individual disturbs the peace of society he should be promptly restricted of his liberty. This being done the safety of society is assured against him, but this gives the Slate no authority to be base him nor to blot out his manhood, but the State should surround him with the best moral influences at her command and save him to the State and bis family if possible.” Bovee believes in reform schools and State prisons, but they must be conducted on a diff irent principle from that now in force. He attacks the jail system of this country and advocates in its stead employment houses, and says en forced idleness is pernicious to its effects and that men waiting trial bad better, even if innocent, have employment. Bovee also protests against capital punish ment as a barbs-ous law and argues that the Stales of Maine, Rhode Island, Wis consin and Michigan, which had repealed that law. are just aa well protected with out the penalty as they had been with it. He has given the subject ot crime and its punishments gresler consideration than any other individual m tbs Unites States, and has made a public canvass of nearly half the States in the Union, leaving his impress upon the penal code3 of nearly every Sutte he has visited. He will de- liver public addresses in eight Southern Slates this winter to open up the question of prison reform and industrial schools for boys in the South. The Night-Shooter. In the Adirondacks once came a re markable episode in the annals of the night-shooter, but which is true to a word. We had paddled barely 200 yards from where I killed a deer, when we heard another one walking among the grasses at the head of the lake. The moss-covered log rustled through the rushes, with the weird lialf-circle of light spreading shoreward with each sweep of the silent paddle, and again the white outline of the deer seemed to grow out of the gloom ahead. Splunge, splash! it is walking toward us. Now it stops! and in the full glare of the headlight we see a beautiful, fat doe, her coat beginning to assume the blue tint of the winter covering. With head outstretched, she gazes earnestly at the lantern, while we sit silently and admiringly in the impenetrable gloom enshrouding the dugout behind the light. After satis! ying her curiosity she turns to feed, and the canoe steals upon her. Now she is watching her shadow, cast by the light, on the lily pads and grassy water. Another quick stroke with the paddle, and L prod her in the ribs with my gun. At the first punch she stood like a beautiful statue. At the second—I would stroke her with my hand, but I fear she, waking from her astonished trance, would kick over our dugout in her terror—she gave one great bound,causing our log to oscillate violently and showering ns with cold spay, and then we heard her bounding up the hill. The Bad Boy Away From Homo* “Oh, people are not all as good as yon and I are,” said the groceryman, as he watched the boy making a sneak on a bunch of grapes. “But did you go to the circus?” “Circus? Well, I should assimilate. And it is a wonder I am not there yet. But, whatever you do, don’t ask pa if he was at the circus, ’cause he will kill you. You see pa and I drove up to the race-track, where the circus was,in the evening, and after the circus was out we waited to see the men take the tents down, and after they had gone we started to drive home. It was darker than a squaw’s pocket, and I drove out on the race-track, and the old horse used to be a racer and he pricked up his ears. Pa took the lines and said he would drive, ’cause we were out pretty late and ma would be nervous. I told pa I didn’t believe he was on the right road, but he said he guessed nobody could fool him about the road to town, and bless me if he didn’t drive around that track about eight times. Every time we passed the grand-stand, which pa couldn't see on account of his eyes, I laffed; but I thought if he knew the road so confounded well I could ride as long as he could. “After we had rode around the track about eight miles, and I was getting sleepy, I mildly suggested that we had better stop at a house and inquire the way to town, and pa gob mad and ask ed me if I took him for a fool. Then he drove around a couple of times more, and the man that keeps the track'he came out with a lantern and said,‘Hel lo!’ Pa stopped and asked him what he wanted, and he said, ‘O, nothin’,’ and pa drove on and told him to mind his business. We went around the track again, and when we got to the same place the man was there, and I guess pa thought it was time to inquire the way, so he pulled up and asked the man what he was doing there, and the man said he was minding his own busi ness. Pa asked him if we were on the right road to town, and the man said if we wasn’t in a hurry he would like to have us drive on the track all night, as it was a little heavy, and he wanted to get it in condition to speed the colts the next day, hut if we had to go we could drive out at the gate and take the first left-hand road. “Well, pa was mad, and he wanted to know why I didn’t tell him we were on the track, but I told him he seemed to know it all, and it was dangerous to advise a man who knew- it all. He didn’t speak all the way to town, but, when I put out the norse, he said, ‘Hennery, if this thing gets out your pa will have the reputation of being drunk. If you tell of it you are no friend of mine. ’ So I shall not say any thing about it, ’cause it is a bad bov who will go back on liis pa.” self, is now the residence of his grand- [ daughter, Mrs, McDowell, and her ac complished and hospitable husband. It Job Printing. THE ADVERTISER JOB OFFICE IS EQUIPPED WITH GOOD Press and New Material, EMBRACING Type, Border, Ornaments, fct, Of the very latest designs, and all orders for Job Work will bo executed neatly, cheaply and promptly. Tne Wild Turkey. Embalming Taught, A “School of embalming” is in pro gress in Detroit, and, after several re fusals, a reporter gained an interview with Prof. Renouard and asked him about the process he is to teach. \ The prwftasof is a man of medium height, heavy build, a little over 40 years of age, and has a marked French accent. He began by referring to the popular prejudice against embalming, and said that he didn’t wonder that the old methods excited such a prejudice.' One treat advantage of embalming is, that : s destroys all germs of disease, so that it is impossible for the living to become affected from the remains of those who have died of contagious maladies. This is not the case with bodies placed in an ice box. Embalming prevents decay, and there is none of that evolution of gases which no ground can wholly ab sorb, especially the cemeteries of large cities. The features of the dead can also be preserved for a great length of time, and repeated tests have shown that embalming, to a large extent, restores the features when through death by violence or delays of various kinds they have ceased to be life-like. ” “How about the process itself.” “It is a very brief one. The old Egyptian process occupied 70 days, while now it occupies scarcely an hour and a half. Nor dues the present pro cess necessitate a removal of the cloth ing of the deceased. In order to use the ice box as is commonly done, it is demanded that the body be compara tively unclothed up to almost the last hour before the funeral,but in embalm ing, the friends may, if they wish, ful ly clothe it immediately after death and before calling in the embalmer. That this is so, is evident from the fact tliat the process is in the main similar to that m which morphine and other medicines are injected beneath the skin of the living. By the passing of a hypodermic tube into one of the con venient arteries, an antiseptic fluid flows into tho arterial system and pre vents those changes which so greatly add to the frightfulness of death. A body thus simply and quickly prepared will continue as at the time of death,or even in better condition,for six months. Or, if thought best, it may be covered with a alight but impervious fluid pre paration which will resist all agencies of destruction for ten years or more. In this length of time the body will be come greatly shrunken, hard as wood and m color like mahogany, but noth ing more. In fact I have some such bodies in my rooms at Rochester, which I prepared in Colorado ten or more years ago, and which I was permitted to exhume and take East as speci mens.” Fro. Renouard has ten pupils in his Detroit class. He was formerly a drug- dist, but went into the embalming business thirteen years ago, and since then has instructed hundreds of under takers. Ashland, the Home of Clay. A drive of a mile from Ashland south east along the limestone turnpike that pates the streets of towns and highways about them, brings the visitor to the home of Henry Clay. Tne road is dotted with beantiml suburban resi dences most of the way on the north, and part ot the o.iginal Ashland farm u soon presented on the south. It is beantifnl fields, green with tne noted blue grass (that is credited with the creation of the famous stock ot Ker in city, bat it is now thqfproperty of tbs Agiinrt.nl College. Farther to the souta is the home ot John Clay, the only surviving eon of the founder of Ashland, who lives the quiet life of a farmer am some two hundred acres of the old homestead. Beyond Ashland is the home of the late Thomas Clay, an other son, and it is still in poise—inn of his family; bat tho Ashland atioae aged ire— war* planted and who— mansion was planned and fashioned by day him- I The wild turkey was once found scat tered over the whole of the North American Continent, bnt, as the axe of the pioneer was heard advancing farther and farther westwards the noble bird which raised in Andabon raptures of en thusiastic admiration has been poshed towards the frontiers of the settlements until each snoceeding year sees its num bers diminishad, so that ultimate exter mination is a matter of certainty. In Louisians, Alabama. Mississippi,' and Arkansas there are still many fastnesses inacessible to man where the wild turkey will find a binding-place for many years to oome. The same obscurity and iso lation, however, which protect the wild gobbler afford shelter and immunity to bis formidable enemy the wild cat, who incessantly preys upon him, and mat** his life conditional upon cunning and vigilance. Now is its finely flavored meat unappreciated by the swamp fox muI weasel, wiiieii^ selects the young birds for its evening repast whenever it a possible to catch them. Oceaaional- !y the Mississippi and other big rivers mse daring the noting time, and over low the lowlands and the islands npon vhich the turkeys breed. The young Mid, unable to fly and too delicate to resist the inflnenee of the wet, sickens tnd dies. In order to appreciate the input sport that any game bird in eros ion affords an English speftsman should >ecome acquainted with an American urkey-hnnter. Having made the wild mbits of the bird and its gjy. teas his especial study he has learnt to i8e a call, which modulates the note of Jarm aud the dulcet whisper of bird - ove, or gives forth the mimic sounds of oy at the discovery of food hidden inder the falling leaf and upon the warming ant-hill. The hunter knows hat the cracking of a twig nnflpr Hm Dot, the clatter of an alarmed squirrel, he scampering of a deer through the Drest, will rouse the wild turkey’s asily excited suspicions, and prompt im to immediate and headlong flight. The implements of this peculiar ports man are few and simple, consist- >f the call, generally made of the large one of the turkey’s wing, and a sure ifle. The bird changes its habits with ts haunts, growing wilder where it is lost pursued. Gaining in wisdom and inning according to the danger of its lrroundings, the old gobbler is so ary that no ordinary sportsman renmyent him. “I once hunted regu- ir aft3r the same bird,” said a famous [ississippi marksman, “forthree yean ad never saw him but twice, I knew le critter’s yelp as well as that of ius:c, my old deerhound, and the bird’s ack, was as clear to me as th^t of alog anted along a dusty road. I hunted im always about the same scratshins, id when I called he would run from e.” Let us take an imaginary scene, he day wears towards noon, and the itient hunter haa met with no “sign.” nddenJy a slight sound is heard, not dike a thousand other woodland noises it enongh to satisfy tho listener’s prao- sed ear. .Stealthily he intrenches him* di behind a fallen, tree; a few rrcoa vies are arranged before him through Turning from the hospitable home of[ w hieh peeps the muzzle of his trusty the descendants of Clay, it is most na- rifle. Thus prepared he emits his toral for the visitor to beDd his steps to ^4 gives one solitary female duck, so the grave of the great Commoner. No exquisitely modulated that it chimeslin direction is needed, as it towers al>ove with the running brook and the rustling town and forest and guides the wor- i ea f. Half a mile off a splendid gobbler shiper to the siinne he seeks. On the * feeding. As he scratches up the northwestern suburb of the town is the herbage that conceals his food he giyea Lexington Cemetery, one of the most utterance to the sound that first attrao- beantifnl resting places for tbe dead I fed the hunter's notice. His wings are have ever visited. It is grandly and awry, the plumage on his breast seems bountifully shaded by forest trees, va- soiled with rain, his wattles are con- negated with evergreens and fragrant I traded and pale, wUen suddenly he hillocks and sudden ravines are all starts, and, instantly every feather is in dotted with the records of tbe dreamless its place. He raises his dainty head sleepers of this lovely City of the Silent. {n ii foU r feet Irom the ground, and lis- Neai the centre on a gentle eminence tens. What an eye H.-ha. what a with a large velvety lawn around it, are stride is suggested by that lilted foot, the grave and monument of Henry Clay. Agaia the clack greets his ear. Uprises A broad base of Kentucky limestone the head with lightning swiituess; the twenty feet high, encloses the dust of bird starts forward a pace or two. and the beloved and lamented statesman, answers to the call. He is nneasv and and by his si le is the partner of his joys picks up his food pettishly, smoothing and sorrows, who survived him a full I down his feathers, and at last springing decade. Facing the sunny Soutn is an up to the limb of a tree to peer into toe open grating that offers full view of the wood. An hour passes away before the beautifully chiseled marble tombs trained hunter ventures upon .imtfrer which contain the dust of the Clays, I ^ The wary gobbler is satisfied that On the top of the marble saruaphagos it comas from no unman lips, and there are the simple words, Henry Clay. rises to his mind toe picture of some On the large base is erected a round disconsolate mistress. But he is au old column of w. ite limestone, nearly one bird, and has escaped with his life by a hundred feet in height, and on the pin- miracle upon previous occasions. He naclc is the life-like statue of Clay, fac- grown extraordinarily conning. He ing the home his name and love have never roosts for two sucoessivenighto made immortal. With all his grandeur upon toe same tree, and rarely gobbles of character and attainments, his destiny without running away from t he sound was dust to dust, the crammon destiny himself has made. But the last cluek of all, and the heart and tongue whose has fairly roused him. He begins to eloquence inspired the liberty luring strut; hia slender lithe body swells-the people of every clime are silenced for- beautiful plumage of his breast is nrted ever, but his memo y and Ins teachings his neck curves, his wattles grow scar - «U endure while the Republic. lives h*. The long feathers of his wings After half a century of distinction m brush toe ground, and the tail nsesand both hemlspher s, and victories and ue- open8 like a fan. On he cornea, with a feats which are alike portal the nitehing gait, growing m the sunshine story ends in the peaceful shades of h*. and gold. The siren cluek Lexington Cematery. and records, after „ twiee repeated, and scarce fifty yards all, only the bnef but fretml journey intervenes between him and the miLder- from the cradle to the grave. | ons rifle. Tho hunter, anxious to draw Him still nearer, in order to shoot »■» Cheyenne's Cattle Trade. | through the head, fools hire to the top of his bent- At length he hope upon a Cheyenne has been made 2nd is sup-1 fallen stump, ens* twenty yards distant ported by the cattle business. There horn the doom that awaits him. Tho are dozens of men who began business ,harp crack'd a rifle rings through toe tenyearsago with a capital of from forest-theT glittering plumageTthe $o00 to $1,000 who are now worth from prond Btep the piercing eyeavafl him $25 000 to $100,000. Not long ago I Sot, and ^thont a ^vem^ of Z yisitedthe Kingman ranch, six miles mDSC ies he has fallen a headless body from Cheyenne. On this ranch is the to tha earth. To these English sporte- latest herd of thoroughbred Hereford men _and they are mJmfTwhotod cattle in America. They are fine speci- pheasant shooting tame, we would™ mens and no mistake It best any cat- eommend a visit m the superb autumn Ue show I everraw. fn the forge barn, of North America to the Southern which cost $4,000 I was shown eleven State8 m the hope that many such •SS-’gobblers as we have described may E5 ^,000 each. Some had been imported t h eir unerring ballets, from England. The Territorial stock 1 c laws are very stringent. A cattle thief. would be hung there almost as quickly I F *‘“ n * as a murderer. Every butcher in Wy-. T . . . „ , ... oming is required by law to keep a ““J not . generally known that complete record of every animal slaugh- ““J nunerala lose their color or lade tered. That is, he must keep a book wl ?en expooed to light. Experienced in which is given the date of purchased, «oUectore frequently keep their most the age, sei and breed of the animal I finelv colOTed specimens in a dark place, slaughtered. This record is at all times I 18 especially Jiable to fade, open to the inspection of stock growers I Amason stone however, sometimes and their employes. The hides of °°lor when exposed to light. A slaughtered animals must be kept at I gmenish gray foldapir from the granite the place of slaughtering for at^ least ™i"sof Ammeberg has been found to seven days. —ntune a bright emerald green when exposed to the a r. Experiments made To make hominy waffles, to tiro tea- by placing fragments in sealed tab- cape of hot hominy add one tablespoon- and exposing them to the light for a fnl of butter; when odd, add one year led to toe conclusion that air and cup of sifted wheat floor, a Uttle salt, moisture had no influence, but that and enough milt to mak« a stiff batter, light alone effected the and tiro eggs well beaten; mix well|odor, and bake in a waffle tin. The next shorthorn herd book will I The treatment of leprosy is becoming ■tain tbe pedigreee of 4,800 bulls and I a hard problem in India. In the ~ (.900 cows and heifers and will be pub-1 bay Presidency 9.483 < halted in two volumes. [treatm nt