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W. F. SMITH, Publisher. VOLUME VIII. NEWS GLEANINGS, Lynchburg (Va.) Advance: If the capital Was at hand there is enough iron ore in a circle of sixty miles around this city to run two hundred furnaces profit ably. Charleston (S. C.) News and Courier: The production of cotton per acre is greater in North Carolina than in any Htate in the Union. Georgia is next in the Male of productiveness. '1 ne Cedar l£eys (Fla.) Journal de sire* Wjcnow who can tell how the shell mmin in that neighborhood came there. Some of them are nearly twenty feet high. lagging for building pur poses discovered a variety of shells. The Louisiana Western Railroad Com pany has built a mammoth hotel, cover ing a ground area of 148 by 120 feet, in the Attalapascountry, west of the bayou Vermillion, and a town has been laid out and named McComb, in honor of the president and principal stockholder of the railroad company. The Nashville Banner says that Liv ingstone Hall, now in course of erec tion, will nearly double the capacity of Fisk University. The main university building is five stories high. Jubilee Hall is four stories high, with a base ment story, and will, perhaps, be com pleted by September, 1882. It is in contemplation to erect another building between Jubilee Hall and Livingstone Hall. Reporting the return of Okeechobee expedition, Jacksonville, Fla., matter in Savannah (Ga.) News says : The Kis simmee river was carefully examined. The lands are rich beyond expectation. Lake Okeechobee was sounded for forty miles. Its average depth is eight feet The Caloosahatchie was traversed for sixty miles in a row boat. The lands around the lake and the two rivers are capable of producing sufficient sugar to supply the whole country. The climate is delightful. Operations will be com menced without delay. Pascagoula (Miss.) Democrat-Star: There is a mistaken idea amopg our wool-growers on the coast that prices will range up in the forties for the early clip, based upon the assumption that the crop will be short. It is true that many sheep have died during the past winter, caused by the severe weather, but'when we consider the quantity of wool grown in this section as compared with what is raised in California, Texas and the Mouther a States, the amount raised on the coast is very small, and is not likely to affect the general market very much. F. H. Angomar recently died in New York, and when his succession was opened in the Civil District Court at Yew Orleans, the New Orleans Times says that it was discovered that $337 represents the entire value of his estate. He leaves a widow and three children. He was an inventor, a man of great en ergy, and his process for the propulsion of street-ears would perhaps have made him a rich man if he had lived. He had received all the substantial encour agement he wanted. The Columbus (Ga.) Enquirer-Sun says that Columbus has a population of nearly 12,000 within the corporate lim its, ami that including the suburbs it will reach between 17,000 and 18,000. Noticing that it lias been omitted from the census list of cities having over 10,- 000 population, the Enquirer-Suu infers that there is an error in compiling the returns. It says: “There is a probabil ity that there is an error in compiling the returns after they left here, as our reporter, with the enumerators, exam ined them and counted every name, making the population of the city some thing over 10,000. The department has been written to, and in a few days of ficial information will be received.” ’’'he Green Cove Spring, published at Green Cove Springs, Fla., states the price of swamp land belonging to the State as follows : For forty acree, or less, $1 per acre; for more than forty, and not exceeding eighty > acres, ninety cents per acre; for more than eighty, and not exceeding 200 acres, eights cents per acre; for more than 200, and not exceed ing 640 acres, seventy-five cents per aere; for more than 640 acres, seventy cents per acre. In case of entries of land at less than $1 per acre, the land must ’C in a body, and not in detached pieces. Where, however, two pieces of land are "C pa rated by lands not belonging to the istate, they considered as contiguous '" r purpose of sale. Many of these '"amp lands are desirable for settle ment-, and more of them are sold than • 1 all the other classes put together. Tfie terms of the State lauds are cash, GIVING and living. Forever the min la pouring its gold On a hundred worlds that beg and borrow; Hie warmth he squanders on summits oold, Hin wealth on tbe homes of want and sorrows Tw withhold his large** of preciohs light Is to bury himself in eternal night To give la to live. The flower shines not for itself at all, Its joy is the joy it freely diffuses; Of beauty and balm It is prodigal, __ And it lives in the light it freely loses. No choice for the rose but glory or doom, To exhale or smother, to wither or bloom. To deny Is to die. The reap lend silvery rays to the land, The land it* sapphire stream to the ocean ; The heart sends blood to the brain of command.. The brain to the heart its lightning motion; And over and o\er we yield our breath, Till the mirror is dry and image is death. To live Is to give. He is dead whose hand is not open wide To hek) the need of a human brother; He doubles the length of his life-long ride Who gives his fortunate place to another; And a thousand million lives are liis Who carries the world in his sympathies. To deny Ib to die. The Tale of a Tramp. Supper was over, and, seated before an open wood fire, our small family bade defiance to tlie chill frost of late autumn, when my wife, lifting her head from the sewing in her lap, said, in a low tone : “ Surely, I heard a rap.” “Or a rat,” suggested Charlie, fresh from college, and skeptical on any sub ject that might be broached. “ Really, mother, if your hearing is so acute, please count the steps of that half-frozen lly on the ceiling.” “ Nonsense, Charlie,” re plied his moth er, with a smile. “But I am sure I heard someone rap. Thesre it is again ! You must have heard that. Nettie, dear, run to the door.” The knock this time, though modest and apologetic in tone, was not to be disputed. Nettie reached out her hand to take the candle, but was anticipated by her incorrigible brother, who rudely blew out the taper, exclaiming : “ Now, then, mother, for a test of your ingenuity ; who is this caller, and wl lat is his or her errand ? Listen! Can you analyze that knock ?” “ Nonsense !” exclaimed his mother again. “ Some tramp, I suppose, who has seen the light from our window, and ” But she was interrupted by Charlie’s burst of merriment. “ A tramp 1 And at this season of tbe year 1 No, no, mother ; try again. A tramp’s knock would reverberate through the house like thunder.” “ Come, Charles,” interposed I, “this is idle. You may be keeping a neighbor waiting, or a child.” “A little child ! ” cried Nettie, “and on a night like this! No, brother, you shall not detain me another moment.” And, after a slight scuffle, Nettie emerged in triumph, bearing the dis puted candle. As she paused on the threshold to re light the candle, I may as well make public my secret conviction that a being nearer akin to the angels than out Net tie did not exist. She opens the outer door, her friendly face beaming a wel come to whoever might be standing in the darkness, while her gentle voice in quires : “Who is there ? ” We all listened intently for the reply, that, quite in keeping with the rap, was delivered in a low, strained voice. lam hungry, *eold and sick. I saw tlie light from your window, and ” “You are welcome, sir,” interrupted Nettie, gravely. “And,” she added, glancing an arch look at her mother— “ and expected.” The stranger, as he entered, directed an inquiring glance toward Nettie, as if not comprehending the import of her last words, nor the smile that passed from lip to lip of the family circle. Hungry, cold and sick! There are many such in the world, but few who bear such genuine marks of distress. His clothing, worn and tom by long ser vice, hung in limp folds about his shrinking, shivering form; while his face, pale and contracted by physical (or was it mental ?) suffering, might have been taken for that of a corpse, were it not for the dark, brilliant eyes that burned deep in their sockets. Nettie had conducted him into the kitchen adjoining, and by a clever strat agem beguiled her brother out of his easy-chair, which, before he could in tercept her, she had dragged into the next room and placed at the disposal of her visitor. “You are too good,” murmured the young man thankfully, as he sank wear ily into the inviting chair. “A model tramp!” sneered Charlie, the loss of whose easy-chair might have tempted him into whispering in a loud key. The stranger probably overheard him, as he shielded his face with his white, bloodless hands, and spoke no more. Nettie flitted busily from room to room, from pantry to cellar, on hospit able thought intent, apparently nncou scions of her mother’s slight coughs and other efforts to attract her attention when the stock of preserves was invad ed, although a close observer would have uoticed by the tell-tale dimples in her cheek and the sparkle in her eye that she was quite cognizant of her mother’s uneasiness. O these children ! how they do wheedle and cajole their parents! It was characteristic of Nettie that when she gave she gave with >* th hand full. She gave the cake and withheld the crust. And so it was that when the youpg yuan, letting his hands fall from Devoted to Industrial Inter at, the Diffusion ol Truth, the Establishment of Justice, and the Preservation of a People’s (Jovernmont. INDIAN SPRINGS, GEORGIA. before bis face, beheld the glittering tea-table, with its goodlv array of sub stantial and delicacies, he stared at his fair benefactress in such a mute, help less way that it was lialf-amusing, half saddening. “And you have prepared this for me ! For me ! And you do not know who or what I am. ” “Our guest, ’ responded Nettie, gen tiy. “ Not but that the light”—glancing disdainfully at his shabby coat—“ re veals my wretchedness too plainly.” “ Pardon me,” said Nettie, bravely ; “ but it is the poor we are commanded to assist; nor do I know of any duty that yields half the pleasure.” “The warmth of the room betraved me into a nap,” continued the stranger, “and I dreamed—alas! it was but a dream—that I should go forth from this house free from the burden of remorse that has weighed me down these many years. But, no; such a miracle could not happen. I have waked once more to misery and to the fact that I am an outcast.” “Hush!” exclaimed Nettie. “We will speak of that later. You must not talk so bitterly; for, whatever your at tire, your address is that of a gentle man. ” Nettie now resumed her place with us, and the stranger was left to his repast. Charlie produced a highly-colored meer schaum, and, without regarding his mother’s entreating looks, proceeded to fill and light it. “Come, Charlie,” she could not for bear saying at last; “it is not often that I ask you fo sacrifice anything for me, but I do wish you would give up smok ing.” “ No use, mother; I should think you would know better than to make such a demand.” “Obey !” thundered a voice from the open door. “Let her lightest wish be law, or beware! My fate may be yours 1” Tbe deep, tragic tones in which these words were uttered, the erect, dignified form standing upon the threshold with threatening forefinger pointing directly at the object of his attack, the flashing, magnetic eye that compelled attention and obedience—all involuntarily re minded me of an evening some forty years before when I had seen the elder Kean advance to the footlights, and, with rapid, unexpected speech, electrify the audience. So, too, I had seen a re ligious revivalist single out some stiff necked sinner in the crowd, and with darting forefinger pour out the vials of scriptural vengeance on the unbaptized head. “ The man must be mad, or a strolling actor playing a part!” cried Charlie, who was the first to recover from the general amazement. The effect of this remark on the man was magical; the extended hand dropped; his figure shrank and drooped into its former listless attitude ; the fire died out in his eyes, and his coat once more revealed its rents, while his voice, low ana hoarse, muttered an apology : “Forgive me. I forgot where I was and who I am. No, I can never forget that. I cannot escape myself.” Nettie’s sympathetic soul was touched. “ Perhaps you would like to tell us about yourself. That is, you might like to feel that there were those'who pitied your misfortunes. My brother is some times hasty, but always kind-hearted. We would all be glad to assist you if we can.” “My tale is one of horror, and could gain me only your detestation ; yet why should I shrink from the recital when the pain I thereby inflict on myself is the only penalty I can pay for my crime ? “I am,” he continued, “ or rather was. an actor, and so was my father before me. Asa child, I mimicked the set phrases and gestures of the actors about me, and early learned to look upon thft play-house as my home and the field wherein I should develop whatever tal ents I might possess. My father occu pied the position of leading man at the II Theater, and was the most popu lar actor in town. He basked in the glare of the theater, exerted, nay, ex hausted, himself in the effort to please a fickle public, and possibly looked upon his home only as a retreat where he might recuperate his exhausted ener gies and equip himself for fresh conquests. My mother naturally looked upon the theater as a rival, and a successful one, to the home. Yet, for all that, she never re laxed her efforts to make that home a pleasant and attractive one. Whatever her sufferings and despair might have been, she never voiced them. Only I remember on one occasion she had play fully asked me what I intended to be when I grew up to manhood, and I re plied : ‘An actor, mamma, an actor, by all means.’ She pressed me closer in her arms, and I felt her warm tears on my face as she cried out: ‘ Oh, not that, my son! Anything but that. Choose again, just to please your mother. ’ But I obdurately insisted that I would be an actor and nothing else. From that mo ment my mother seemed to regard me with great apprehension, and I am afraid would have secretly rejoiced if my first appearance had been such an utter failure a a to deter me from taking any further steps in that direction. But my father aided and encouraged me. Himself a careful, conscientious student, he would quench my too-ardent enthu siasm bv an immersion in the ocean of work that lies between every artist and his goal; and anon, lifting me np to his own lookout, he would point out some new and undiscovered country where fresli glory awaited the first comer. Alternately stimulated and held in check, I rapidly grew in popular favor, and divided almost equally with my father the smiles and tears of tlie town. Oh ! he alone who has commanded them cJn testify to the sweetness of the power. ‘About this time there appeared on the scene one whom my father nervously feared as a possible rival. He played parts that my father considered pecul iarly his own by right of repeated rep resentation, and, being young, hand sofhe and of good address, secured a large following of friends. The misun derstanding between this stranger and my father was of so serious a character that they only spoke to each other when the demands of their profession forced some courtesy from one or the other, and it required all the firmness of the stage manager to keep them to their duties. One night, late in the season, when all the new plays had been worn thread bare, an old melodrama was revived, and to my father and this new-comer the principal parts were assigned. Each now started out in the race to enlist the applause of the audience. My fath er watched the house nervously, both off and on the stage, to see to which sido its favor might incline. He seemed to feel the laurels plucked from his own and bound on a younger brow. Near the close of the play my father was to shoot his opponent, who was to fall dead at his feet. You have already apprehend ed the sequel. The gun, an old, unused one, supposed to bp loaded with a small charge of powdtr, went off in my fath er’s hands, and the rival, whom he had so lately feared and hated, lay dead be fore him. “ I have related this incident to show you the cloud of misfortune that hung over our family, and shortly aiterward enveloped me in its folds. “ Although probably no one actually believed that this tragedy was other than a sad accident, yet some there were who, recalling the enmity between the two men, were malicious enough to whis per that the shooting was premeditated under cover of the play. These rumors coming to my father’s ears cut short his stage career. He secluded himself close ly at home and would see no one. One night, I recollect, he called me into his room, and said : *My son, it would have been far better for me if I had purposely killed that man, for in that case my pun ishment would be deserved and sure. This distrust, the averted eyes of those who were once proud to call themselves mylends,'' is killing me.’ He must have spoken in a spirit of prophecy, for on the following morning he died. * ‘ Soon after this event I was the re cipient of some flattering offers from theatrical managers, and I determined to return to the stage, although my mother bitterly opposed it. Oh! that I had listened to her gentle pleadings, lint youth is proud and headstrong, and unwilling to heed words of caution. Was I not desirous of providing for all her present and future needs? Had I, although acting contrary to her wishes, any other object than her ultimate hap piness in view? "Would she not, sooner or later, come round to look at things in my way ? “ My return to the stage was followed by almost immediate promotion, and the people flocked to see me in parts which inv lather had rendered famous. Many of my friends were anxious to see me attempt the higher walks of my art, and partly to please them, as well as to air certain theories and innovations of my own, I gave out that I would shortly es say the role of Othello. For weeks and months I studied this creation of the great dramatist, and succeeded in thoroughly identifying myself with the part. On the night before my debut as a tragedian was to take place I retired early, but my sleep was disturbed by dreams. By turns I was the fond and tender lover, the proud and powerful General, the crazed, relentless mur derer. ‘ ‘ The morning dawned and developed in my own home a more horrible tragedy than wa4 ever conceived by dramatist, for while I slept and dreamed a dastard ly assasm had crept into my mother’s chamber and strangled the life from her sweet body. Upon her fair white throat was the cruel imprint of the murderous hand, and, oh, God! while I slept, un conscious of her agony, she was strug gling with her slayer. “Weeks and months passed, but no clew to the murderer could be discovered, nor the object of the crime imagined. My life, robbed of its truest friend, seemed dull and melancholy. There was but one thing left for me to do, and that was to recall and act upon her ad monitions, so that, if haply her spirit looked down on me, she might bless my efforts. I left the State and sought in a Western State to give anew direction to my life. But even here my reputation as* an actor had preceded me, and I was waited upon one evening by.the man ager of the local theater with the re quest that I would take the place of his leading man on the following evening, he being incapacitated by sickness from appearing. The piece was to be “ Othel lo. ” I accepted the proposal, pleased that my name had not been entirely forgotten by the public. The hotel at which I stopped was overcrowded, and the land lord informed me that I would have to share my room with a stranger. But the ‘stranger,’ when he came in, proved to be an old friend, and we talked far into the night of old times, mutual acquaintance, but especially of my forthcoming appearance as Othello on the next night. I slept, and dreamed once again that I was the veritable Moor of Venice, breathing into Desdemona’s ear mv vengeful, cruel purpose. I was suddenly awakened by a temflo pull at ttJ bair- lad in the mlildia bi ihi floor engaged in a struggle with my My hands were fastened in. a vice-llke grip on his throat, and, even I waked, nis hold on my hair looked. nd h* helpless ly to the floov. Ther* at* moments in life when, like an electric flash, all that has been and much that is to be stands out clearly revealed, and, awe-struck, we gaze at the fearful prospect. The mys tery of my mother’s taking-off was no longer a mystery ; it was these accursed hands that had "done the deed, and con demned me, like Ahasueras, to wander over the world, seeking relief and find ing none.” With these words the young man con cluded his tragic story, and, seizing his hat, opened the outer door and disap peared in the darkness. Nettie, with white face, but moistened eyes, hastened to the door with her purpose so clearly expressed in her manner that Charles cried out: “ Hare a care what you arc doing! You surely can’t mean to offer that sleep-walker a bed here! Ugh ! I choke at the thought of it! ” Nettie shuddered, hesitated for a mo ment only, then, leaving the door ajar, stepped out. We could hear her voice, but could not distinguish the words, but his reply was distinctly audible: “ You are light. To me it seems as if my mother’s voice spoke through you, bidding me cast off this burden of re morse and return to my art, with the resolve to win the name the future sure ly has in store for me,” * * * * * * * * Several years later our family were surprised by the receipt of a note, in closing passes, from the manager of the B Theater, inviting us to be present on the following evening, when Ameri ca’s greatest tragedian would open a week’s engagement. The play was to be “Othello.” We were punctual yon hand, and were politely conducted to a side box, whence shortly afterward we had no difficulty in recognizing, in the swarthy Moor who strode the stage, Nettie’s quondam acquaintance. Between the acts the actor entered our box and claimed the privilege of re newing an acquamtance so mauspicious ly begun. “I shall invite myself once more to your home,” said he, “ nor will you find me the objectionable guest that I for merly was. Before fame and fortune the dark specters that haunted my brain have dissolved like the mists of morning and left me light-hearted and clear-visioned.” Since then the actor has often been our honored guest; and idle rumor has X —is the rumor idle? What, then, do Nettie’s blushes mean, as, bending over •my shoulder as I write, she asks the jucstion : “Father, don’t you think it would sound better if you were to christen your story ‘ The Tale of a Tragedian ?’ ” Fun in Camp. The early settlers of Kentucky had to work hard and fight often with the In dians. Their holidays were few, but whenever men met some sort of a physi cal contest was .the amusement of the occasion. A Methodist minister, who lived in Kentucky at the beginning of this century, tells of a curious sport he once witnessed—a battle with fire-brands for weapons. He and a hundred other stalwart set tlers were engaged in opening a road through the forest. It was a good-nat ured, jolly company. The men worked hard all day. At night they sat round blazing fires of huge hickory logs and told stories of hunting bear and deer and fighting Indians. One night the story-tellers seemed to have exhausted their yarns. The men seemed nervous for some new excitement. Suddenly one gave a war-whoop. A score of yells answered. Every one sprang to his feet. Two Captains were chosen, and the men told off in two companies. Each man seized a burning brand and the bat tle began. There was but one rule of war—no brand should be thrown with out fire upon it, so that it might be seen and dodged. For two hours the battle continued in perfect good nature. But, as the fires became low, burning brands grew scarce. The rule was broken and some were se verely wounded. The battle in play -was beginning to be a fight in earnest. Then came out the perfection of the discipline they had acquired in Indian wars. The loud voices of the Captains cried “ Halt I” Each man dropped his brand. “To camp !” and in a few min utes the whole company, save the senti nels, were “between their blankets.” Eccentric Winans. Mr. Winans, the son of the late Balti more millionaire, lives in great splendor in England, having one of the most magnificent palaces in London, and, with one exception, the finest deer park in Scotland, which is kept in royal style. He has a morbid dread of the sea, and says nothing would tempt him to cross it again, and neither of his two sons has ever been in America. His in come is nearly $1,000,000, with a pros pect of trebling in ten yearfc. He spends his money en prince , but himself cares for nothing but engineering. “Do you pretend to have as good judgment as I have ? ” exclaimed an en raged wife to her husband. ‘ * Well, no, ” he replied slowly, “our choice of part ners for life shows that my judgment is not to be compared with yours.” It is now estimated that the forests of America will be all used up at the end of another thirty years, and a man who wants to go hunting will have to sit oa a 4i aw bridge and shoot at sailors. SUBSCRN>TION”tf.6O. NUMBER 38. BITS OF INFORMATION. Hibernia, is the Latin name for Ire land. Cotton Mather wrote 382 works of all kinds. Memphis was built by Mizraim 2,000 years and more before Christ. The slang word “crack” (as, a “crack” regiment) is a corruption of “crepo,” to boast of. It is English university slang, and was in common use in Shakspeare’s time. Aluminum when fused and cast in molds is soft as pure silver, but when hammered or rolled it becomes as hard as iron. N itro-gltcerine was invented by Soblero in 1847. In 1863 Alfred Nobel, a German, first mixed it with gunpow der, and used it for blasting, and, after further experiments, invented dynamite, by mixing it with infusorial earth. Glass was first introduced into En gland in 674. Its use was at first entirely confined to religious edifices, and did not become general until the fourteenth century. The first glass manufactory in America was established by John Hewes, in New Hampshire, in 1790. The “ Riot Act ” is an English law, providing “that if any persons to the number of twelve or more, being unlaw fully, riotously and tumultuously assem bled together to the disturbance of the public peace, shall continue so assem bled for the space of an hour after a magistrate has commanded them by proclamation to disperse, they shall be considered felons.” It is the custom in England always to read the “ Riot Act ” before proceeding to extremities. , In the ancient Egyptian astronomy, the order of the planets, in respect of distance from the earth, beginning with the most remote, is Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, the sun, Venus, Mercury, the moon. The day was divided into twenty four hours, and each successive hour consecrated to a particular planet in the order stated—so that, one hour being consecrated to Saturn, the next fell to Jupiter, the third to Mars, and so on, and each day was named after the planet to which its first hour was consecrated. The Egyptian w r eek began with Satur day, or the day of Saturn ; and the Jews, because of their flight on that day, made it the last day of their week—the last day of their bondage—hence their Sab bath or rest from labor^. The term “ Porte,” Which is used to denote the administrative government of the Ottoman empire, and includes the Sultan, the Grand Vizier, and the great Council of State, had its origin in this way: In the famous institutes es tablished by the famous warrior, Sultan Mohammed IL, the Turkish body polit ic was described by the metaphor of a stately tent, whose domes rested upon four pillars. “The Viziers formed the first -pillar, the Judges the second, the Treasurers the third, and the Secretaries the fourth.” The chief seat of the gov ernment was figuratively named the “ Lofty Gate of the Royal Tent,” in al lusion to the practice of earlier times, when the Ottoman rulers sat at the tent door to administer justice. The Italian translation of this name was “Le Porte Sublima.” This phrase was modi fied in English to the “Sublime Porte,” and finally the adjective has been dropped, leaving it simply “The Porte.” The Times, of Natal, contains an ac count, obtained from native sources by Mr. Osborn, the British resident in Zu luland, of the memorable disaster at Isandlana. The description of the stand made by “the last man” is full of pathos: “He struggled on and on, retreating higher and higher up in the hill, till he readied a small cave or recess in the, i*ocks, into which he crept, and with his gun kept off the enemies. The ground in front of the little cave (which was pointed out to me) falls sleepily down, and the Zulus, taking advantage of the rocks and stones scattered about, en deavored, two or three at a time, to ap proach and shoot him. The soldier, however, was very cool and wary, and invariably shot every Zulu as he ap peared. He did not blaze away hurried ly, but loaded quickly, took deliberate aim, and ‘killed a man with every shot,’ till at last, the Zulus now very tired, a number of men, good shots, were brought up with guns, who fired simultaneously at the unfortunate man, and so killed him. ” A Lucky Thing. As a citizen was feeling his way up street one dark night he suddenly made out the form of a man only a few feet away. After a halt and embarrassing silence he called out: “Say, you I ” “Yes. “ Are yon an honest man ? ” “ Yes ; are yon ? ” “Yes.” “ Have yon got any money ? ” “ Not a red. How is it with yon ? ” “I’m also dead broke. How are yon armed ?” “ With a club. How are you ? ” “ I’ve got a club, too. What a lncky thing it is that we spoke to each other I H either of us had been a robber we inight have killed our man and not got a cent! ” - Dabtus, during his reign, had an in come of $14,500,000 a year 1 , and when eggs went np to forty-eight cents a dozen he growled as much as the modern newspaper paragraphs whose income isn't JiaH as large. Pride, like th 6 magnet, constantly points to one object— self; but, unlike the magnet, it has no attractive pole, but at ftU points repvla,