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MMB mlmtl JOSHUA JONES, PUBLISHER. vol. ir. Seasons. What did springtime whisper? Oh ye rivulets, Waking from yo,ur trance so sad. Pleased to welcome fisher lad With his little nets, Speed, for summer's in the air, Prattle, for the breeze is warm, Chatter by the otter’s lair, Bubble past the ivied farm; Wake the primrose on the banks, Bid the violet ope her eyes, Hurry in a llood of thanks Underneath serener skies! What a revel’s coming soon—*■ Fairies trooping o’er the leas, Making magic by the moon. Crowned with wood anemones i What a haunted heart the thrush Nurses in the blackthorn bush, Full of splendid-songs to sing, Cheery welcomes of the spring— Spring has come! —Norman Gale. ROSE’S DIARY. BY EMILY G. W. UOWE. . • June 30, 1832—Little brown diary do you kno’- that’toduy is my birth¬ day- ? I am oix f e 9 n today, I can hardly realize that I am growing old so fast. This morning, when I threw open my shutters and the sweet June sunshine and tjie breath of roses came pouring in, I thought to myself how good it was to live, and how glad T was that I was born in June, ond that my name is Rose. Bose Meredith! It’s a pretty name, isn’t it, diary dear ? I wonder if I shall always keep it just so. . This morning, when I went down to breakfast, little mother met me with a birthday kiss and a beautifully bound copy of “Milton’s Poems.” My father’s gift, a gold thimble, marked “Bose,” I found under my napkin. Bess gave me a dear little apron tpimmed in lace, and after breakfast Kate Owen came across the lawn with a huge bunch of the loveliest creamiest fragrant roses—just sixteen, one for each year. Then Madame Carew came, and I had to take my music lesson. After dinner, mamma, Bess and I drove to Hatfield and got' back just at tea time. Tea in honor of the day was served in the arbor, and after it was over our neighbors, Kate and Harry Owen, with a young college friend of Harry’s, Frederick Murchi¬ son, came over, and we spent a very pleasant evening with music and talk ing. What a happy, happy day it has been, little diary. You just don’t know. December 15, 1834—How can I write through my tears ? My sister iBess is dead—my lovely, brown-eyed sister, so beautiful in her youug wom¬ anhood. Only twenty-one—and she was three years older than I—and al¬ ways such a dear, loving elder sister to me. We buried her today in the hard, cold, frozen earth, and tonight the snow is falling silently and steadily upon her grave. Mother mourns in her own room and refuses all comfort. She cannot forget that her first born is sleeping under a blanket of snow. It seems as if I were all alone. Bess and I have always been so much to one another. Harry Owen is quite broken down with grief. They were to have been married in tho spring, but Bessie, my dear and only sister, will never, never wear her bridal robes. It almost seems as if, through all space, she must hear my voice call¬ ing her to come back to me. June 30, 1837—Constance, Switzer¬ land. Once more it is the anniver¬ sary of my birth. At home the June roses are all a^bloom but there is only the June moonlight, the June silence, and in my heart the June peaee. “The world is in June, and it ripples in rhyme, June, June, sweet heart of life, And own darling of Time.” It is the happiest night of my life, little diary. Shall I tell you why? It i is only the old, old story—old, yet to THE WILL OF THE PEOPLE 18 THE SUPREME LAW. FORT GAINES, GA •4 FRIDAY. MAY L 1890. me now and inexpressibly sweet Iniko Constance is a glittering shoot of sil ver. I shall romembor it so forovor and always, with tho moonlight upon the distant mountain tops. Twenty-olio to-day. Just the same age as our Bess was when she loft us for a sunnier land than this. Dear, dear Bess! Was sheas happy in her love, I wonder, as I am tonight? But I must write tho connected history of it, mustn’t I, diary carissima? I’ve neglected you most mercilessly of late, but then you know well, little book— you do know well, don’t you? Two years since mamma and I came abroad —poor, poor mamma,patient and gen¬ tle always in spite of her suffering. The doctor thinks she is improving, and it has seemed to me that in the past few weeks she has been stronger and more like herself than at any time since Bessie died. The climato hero is building her wonderfully. * It up was while we were at Berlin that we met Mr. Murchison, who was a class¬ mate of Harry Owen’s. He remem¬ bered having spent an evening at our house with Kate and Harry sovoral years ago, just before they were grad¬ uated. He has been so kind to us in many ways. I cannot tell ytfu all, diary; it would take too long—altogether too long; but he was with us in most of our rambles through Germnny, and had to l^ave us when we concluded to stay in Dresden awhile. Ho had to return to Berlin on business. That was six weeks back, and only ten days ago we came on to this dear old inn on Lake Constance. The days have seemed so long to me of late, and I have often wondered why. To-night I know. It wa3 because—well, diary, he came to-day, and everything is bright again. To-night, while mamma slept, Kat¬ rine sat with her, and we two walked upon the shore. It was a perfect night. Nothing but still,intense light upon the surface of the water, a silver haze upon the mountain peaks, and shadows here and there upon the slopes. Beneath the arching trees we walked, and oh, there was so much to tell, so many little instances to relate that had occurred since we parted at Dresden. Suddenly a silence fell be¬ tween us, and for a long time we walked slowly on, with hand clasped close in hand, beside the shining water. It was so solemn, diary dear. There was such a June intensity about us. It was the time and place for a betrothal. At last he spoke to me; but what he said to, little diary, I cannot even write upon your pure white pages. “I’ll love him more, more Than e’er wife loved bofore, Be the days dark or bright.” September 10, 1841.—How fast time flies to bo sure ! Mamma has been spending a week with me, and today we took a long drive through the country lanes, where the feathery plumes of the golden-rod wave beside the fences. It hardly seems as if it can be September ! Mamrna goes to¬ morrow. The dear woman ! I shall miss her so much. It seems as if the only blot upon my otherwise happy life is the fact that she cannot always be near me. Today she said to me: “Rose,you ought to be the happiest woman in the world, with your lovely home, perfect liberty, and such a good husband.” And I am happy. During the three years that have rolled by so fast since the June day when Fred and I were marr ieefamong the roses, life has been too happy for mp. I fear this utter peace, this unchanging serenity can¬ not always last. Will the clouds be heavier when they do come in con¬ trast with this beautiful sunlight ? I am afraid I am a trifle depressed to¬ night, so had better lay my pen away, until I can inscribe more cheerful sentiments upon your pages, little diary. April 15, IS HI How tho rain pours down 1 All day loug, unceasingly, it has rained and rained. Fred is in Boston, and it is hardly time for his traiu to bo duo, so I will spend tho time that must clapso boforo his re¬ turn with you, my littlo brown vol¬ ume, that for so many years has boon my confidant. It will not be long now until my thirtieth birthday. It doesn’t seem possiblo, does it? Somo way, I am louoly touight It has boon such a loug, dreary day, and tho mo¬ ments now nro longer and drearier. Littlo Bossio lies fast aslesp in hor crib. The darling 1 Tho falling rain cannot disturb her sweet, quiet slum¬ ber. How it dasbos against tho win¬ dow! It is time that Fred was hero. Hark! I hoar his step. Good-nigh* diary. July 3, I860.—Only a few days ago I was fifty days old. I scorn so old, so old. I am all alone in the world, alone, save Bess, mv bonny, brown eyed daughter, who is the very picture aiid just tho ago of tho dear Aunt Bess, who died so many years ago. How strange life seems to look back upon! Just throe years ago today my husdaud fell at Gettysburg. I cannot boar to think of it—how, at the sunset hour, when God’s world should have been at peace, that mighty struggle ensued; and ho—ah, I thought by this time I should bo able to Write calmly of it, but I must close my book. Juno 30, 1880 Feebly do my fin gers hold tho pen, and for tho last time, ere I close tho covers of this little brown diary forever, will I writo upon its pages. I feel that it is for the last time. Seventy years today! The days, the weeks, tho months, tho years have given me the alloted time, My work is done. I await only tho summons. All day my mind ha H wandered over the free, happy hours of my girlhood; I havo lived them again. My sister Bess—I shall see her soon ; my joyous youth—gono for ever; that happy night upon the shore of Luke Constance, it is a blissful memory; tho years we two spent to gethor ; how precious each moment seems; the long long months sinco wo havo parted; we shall meet soon—to “part, no, never.” It grows dark. I can write no more. I smell the old fragrance of the Juno roses, and am weary with memories, littlo diary. — Home Queen. Mowers Used Food. I as Although it is well known that many kinds of flowers are used in medicine, tho fact may not be known to mauy that blossoms of certain plants are em ployed as food. In many part* of India tho flowers of a saponaceous tree, bassia lutifoiia, or rnahwah,form really important articles of food. In These blossoms, which are succulent and very numerous, fall at night in large quantities from the tree, and aro gathered early in the morning ancl eaten raw. They have a sweet but sickly taste and odor. They are like wise dried in the sun and sold at bazaars. The Bheels dry them and store them as a staple article of food, and so im¬ portant are they considered for this purpose that when, in expeditions for punishment or subjection of these tribes, when unruly, a threat is made by the invading force to cut down their bassia trees, the menance most commonly insures their submission. An ardent spirit is distilled from these flowers both raw and cooked, and; often with the addition of grain, and ; also make sweetmeats of them. A sin gle tree will afford from 200 to 400 j pounds of the flowers.—Current Lit- j erature. In the Maine shipyards laBt year sixty-three vessels, aggregating 13,- 116 tons, were built. 1 Old Rending Hoards. What are “Heading boards?” Not many pooplo know. Two of thorn were recently found near hero. A century or two ago books were much scarcor than now. School books wore not given to children, but they were taught from reading-boards. Our grandfathers and grandmothers and I their progenitors learned to read from [ these boards, and they got in the same wuy their first lessons in history and , na tural science, Thero aro a couplo of these queer old boards among tho curiosities at Erasmus hall, Flatbush. They arc of pine and about twelve inches by nine When found recently papers woro pasted upon thorn containing tho daily or weekly lesson. They used to bo hung up in front of tho whole class, and from these tho toaclior gave hor pupils their lesson. ! Tha two board9 aro numbered 01 « bt y ancl eighty-one, and eighty-six and eigbty-sevou on their respective Bules - Th ^ aro 8 P ht and wor,Q - eaton ’ thoir war P ed aml « taiuod »PPe»runoe shows their extreme age. ^ bo tdd co,ds still hung from tbo top cncb ’ Board eighty shows tho old English : lettering and also tho curious confu¬ sion in the contemporary mind l>o I tween corn and wheat. “This is a grain of corn. This is an car of corn. What grows upon a i siuglo stalk is called an ear. “This bundle of corn is called a sheaf * j T^hin ig a Hbook , There ar0 ranuy sheaves in a shock. “When corn is ground it is called flour. ” Erasmus hall, where they woro found, has been an educational institution for ovor a hundred years. It numbers among its ancient curios some old Dutch tiles,containing Biblical scenes, Absalom caught by tho hair, Esau and Jacob and all tho patriarchs are hero faithfully represented, all in original , Dutch costumes.—New York Journal, j A Peep at Trinidad. Even the huts along tho road are transfigured and glorified by the wealth J v f foliago that Hedges softens and eurichos all , it touches. of crotons, six feet high, with leaves of gold and ( and mottled of hibis : orange green ; or cus, rod and white, whoso flowers would measure four and fivo inches across tho centre, grow in front of cabins thut, in themselves, would be a blot on tho plainest landscape ever eye behold. But behind such a hedge and covered with somo brilliant vino, one forgets tho shahbinoss of the meanest hovel, since nature has con coaled it with such a gracious hand, And what a background 1 Orange trees, limes, cashews, tamarinds, cacao trees, pawpaws, bread-fruit, mangoes, calabash and others whose names I know not, brilliant with fruit of every ! shade and color, from green to red and gorgeous yellow, vie with each other in claiming precedence for them selves in the marvelous display which meets tho eye. In the littlo patches of garden, the loug, splendid leaves of the plantain and banana almost hide the flowers of every hue thut form so strong a contrast to the ever-present green; while, amid a hundred un¬ known perfumes, one may detect that of the odorous Capo jasmine hanging heavy in the air. Tho eyo becomes bewildered amidst such luxurious abundance, and can only take in a fraction of what it sees.—Outing. A Glorious Victory. Subordinate—Sir, we have success f^Hy landed 35,000 reinforcements, Spanish General—In spite of the in¬ eurgents? “fn spite of them, sir—not amanat, the wharf to oppose us.” Bravo ! Good l Another victory! Ah, this is glorious 1”—Cleveland Plain Dealer. ONE DOLLAR PSR AHNUi- NO. 1,7. ITow Camphor Is Mniln. One of the principal products of the territory which has como under Japanese administration as a result of the war with China, is camphor. Small shanties aro scattered over the hills where the camphor trees grow, and in all directions tho clearing of the woods is going on at a rapid rate On tho hillsides aro built distilleries, consisting of oblong-shaped structures principally of mud bricks, and about ton or twelve feet long, six feet broad and four feet high. “ On each side there aro five to ten tiro holes about a foot apart and the snmo distanco abovo tho ground. On each firo hole is placed an earthorn pot full of water, and abovo it a cyl¬ indrical tube, about a foot in diame¬ ter and two feet high, passes up through tho structure and appears above it. Tho tube is cupped by a largo in¬ verted jar, with a packing of damp hemp between tho jar and tho cylinder to prevent tho escape of steam. .Tho cylinder is filled with chips of wood about tho size of the little finger, which rests on a per¬ forated lid covering the jar of water, so that when tho steam rises it passes up to the inverted jar, or condenser, absorbing certain resinous mattor from the wood on its way. Whilo distillation is going on an es¬ sential oil is produced and is found mixed with the water on the inside of tho jar. When tho jar is removed, the boady drops solidify, chrvataliza tion commences and camphor in a crude form, looking like newly-formed snow, is detached by the hatfds,placed in baskets lined with plantan leaves and hurried off to tho. nearest border town for sale. With regard to camphor as in ether commercial matters, tho Chinese gov¬ ernment has acted very foolishly. For ovor thirty years there has been a constant demand for cuinplior, and yet tho administration has done noth¬ ing to prevent tho reckless waste of the forests and taken no steps to pro vide for tho reafforestation of unin¬ habited tracts useless for cultivation. Scottish Geographical Magazine. Saved by His Elephant, “I had an elephant on my hands once,” said tho old showmun, and ho saved my life,my credit uud my honor. But for him I would havo starved to death; but for hirn I would have been unable to pay the salaries of my art¬ ists ; but for him I would havo been incarcerated in tho Cheyenne jail. My show was stranded thero and I didn’t know what on earth to do. I stood at tho desk of the hotel arguing about my bill when a young man beckoned rno aside, ‘I understand the situation,’ ho said. Wo can fix i<; U P ia “ J° 11 wil1 let me I ,ain * ; a sign on your elephant and give me a guarantee to keep it thero for a year I will pay all your bills here, give you money to get out of town and send you a check for $50 every week while the tour lasts. I jumped at tho offer. That very night we had the elephant painted from toenail to trunk with a tobacco sign, and tho next morning we got ont of towD. I kept up my end of the contract for six months and he kept up his. His name was Theodora Marburg of Baltimore. He said that the elephant sold $100,000 worth of tobacco. ”—Now York Press. Not to Be Bluffed. Chronic Deadbroke —Could you lend me a ten, Charlie? ’ Charlie—Ten cents. Certainly. C. D.—That’s what I mean.—De¬ troit Free Press. . Theban mummies have been found which give proof that, in the days of the Pharoahs there were dentists who filled decayed teeth with gold.