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f „ er Miiffiilae Temperament. Detroit Free rreee. The other evening ft policeman was in fer nod that a resident of Lafayette street S3 was killing his wife. This is not .an unusual thing for a husband to do during these days of pull-backs, tie-backs, get backs, backups and long trails, but still the policeman made a rush for the house. As lie reached the steps the wile had just finished washing her bloody nose, and she greeted him with the cheerful query : “ Hello ! Did you hear of the racket. “ I heard that you were being murder- ed,” he replied. “Oh 1 pshaw ! It was merely a lively little set-to between the old man and my self. We have lots of ’em. I don’t always come out second-best, as 1 did this time, but it’s all right, "If a body meet a body Cornin’thro’ the rye." “ I should think it would be awful to live this way,” remarked the officer, as he glanced around at the many proofs of pov erty. “Oh. go long!” she smiled. “We can't all be dukes and dukesses, and there's no use trying. I've got six children around the house, and it’s my duty to carry a lively heart. Fact is, I'm of a sanguine temperament, and 1 always look on the bright side anyhow.” *• Weren't you set out of a house on Croghan street for non-payment of rent?” asked the officer, looking at her more closely. “Same woman—same family,” she laughed. “ I had more fun over that Ilian you could carry on a freight train. Three of the children were sick, the old man out of work, the dog lost, the cat under t lie weather with cramps, and none of us knew what to do. However, “ The sun may he shining to-morrow, • Although it is cloudy to-day.” And I sat down on the old cook-stove and laughed till I cried.” “ 1 think I saw you at the Poormaster's 1 office,” he observed. “ And that was another good joke on Snyder,” she grinned. “Yes, I went around there and asked for Mocha coffee, granulated sugar, seedless raisins, Worces tershire sauce, pastry flour and A 1 coal, and you ought to have seen the old man go down in his boots ! 1 got some taters and meat and wood, and some of the foiks were put out to hear me singing : “ The wolf of starvation she winked at me, By-by—tra-la! But I married a duke with fortunes three, h'e—to—fum! “ Do you iiglit with your husband very often?” lie asked. t “Well, that depends. He’s of bilious temperament, and you can't bet on him. Some days he'll come in as meek as a lamb, and smile sweetly as I kick his hat off. Again he'll come rushing in, bang the chil dren around, kick over chairs, and dare me to move an ear. Them's glorious old times, them ts ! You just ought to see maternal affection and mop-handle muscle combine and go for that old autocrat of the shovel and wheelbarrow! I don't have and backing, and I don't want any. These sanguine temperaments never go in except to win.” “You have been arrested for disturbing the peace, haven’t you ? “The same, 1 have, and were you down there ? I walked out before the desk in Lady Audley style, you know, wiped a tear from my pearly eye, and the way 1 flung law, domestic happiness, muscular development, mother’s love, conjugal affec tion and Western enterprise at his Honor made his hair stand up. lie told me to go, and I laughed all the way home. My hus band sat here, wiping away crocodile tears and telling the children I’d been sent to Saratoga for my health, when I bounced in and had him hollering for mercy in less than two minutes. “ So we won’t go home till morning— Till daylight does appear.” “Well, I guess you'll get along,” said the officer as he went down the steps. “ Don’t you bet I won't !” she replied, standing in the door. “We haven’t a stick of wood, and nothing to eat but a loal o! bread, while the rent is two months over due, hut l am of a sanguine temperament, you know. If we don’t strike a streak of of luck to-night we'll have a dry old meal and another light in the morning, but luck has got to come some day. Destiny is destiny, and this old calico dress has got to do me till snow flies, but “ There’s many a hard up fam-i-lee There’s many who want for bread; But I’m a sandy, sanguine, cheerful wife, ■Who’ll never give up till dead. If you hear a tussle in here this evening don't interfere. I've got a handful oi snuff all ready for the old man's eyes, and it'll nearly kill me to see him feeling round for a club with one hand and digging his eyes with the other. Well, tra-la.” Trade in Postage Stamps. The secret agents of the Post Office arc overhauling postmasters who have been in business correspondence with dealers in various specialties, most of them lrauds, with a view of disposing of postage stamps in large quantities. These irregularities have been discovered exclusively in offices of the fourth class, in which, in lieu of salary, the postmasters is allowed GO per cent, on the first hundred dollar's worth of postage stamps sold, 50 per cent, on the next three hundred dollars worth, and 40 per cent, on the next six hundred dollars’ worth. Some publishers and jewellers have gone so far as to send special circulars to post masters offering to take payment for the goods in postage stamps. The bait is snapped at, and only sucti postmasters as bj r their own blunders send misdirected or non-directed packages of stamps in regis tered envelopes, requiring the packages to be opened, are detected. Hence only a few of their many transactions ever come to the knowledge of the authorities. In order to escape detection, the postmasters frequently send remittances of stamps by express. Many of the rural postmasters are storekeepers, and arrangements are made bv them with the mercantile houses from which they purchase goods to accept either whole or part payment in postage stamps. The result of all this is shown in a comparison of the Post Office reports. Sales of stamps in some of the little cross roads offices have latterly swelled from fifty or a hundred dollars a year to several thousand dollars. This increase of sales in small offices, distributed throughout the $1.50 A YEAR. Southern and United States, perceptibly decreases the sales in the offices of the large cities. The Government loses the amount of the commission paid the country postmasters. Only. “ She is nobody ! Only a post-trader's wife,” said the pretty Mrs. Helknap with a toss of the head. It was only a sentence, but it hurled the speaker and those dear to her from a position long held and highly prized, and brought to light transactions that made Americans, for a time, almost lose faith in public men. Only one Marshal failed to obey com mands at Waterloo on that memorable 18th of June, but it broke the proud heart of Napoleon, caused defeat to be written on the French banner, which heretofore had only victory inscribed thereon, and brought untold glory to Wellington and joy to the allied English and German troops. Of this defeat Thiers wrote : “ As for this battle, no one can deny that the plan and execu tion were all that could be expected of a commander.” It was only Grouchy who was to blame, and be was only a little too la.e, but Napoleon died in exile because of it. Only a child left within a burning house. Who would enter at the risk of life and save him ? He was saved, and after years proved it was a life worth saving to the church and the world. It was the immor tal Wesley. Only a fallen girl. Years ago she was pure and happy. It was only one false step at tirst, but years of misery have fol lowed. May Gou show mercy to the fal len one. Only one glass more. The thirst cannot be quenched. Down, down the victim goes, saying: “Only one glass more.” Hundreds of ruined families and broken hearted mothers the world over can tell the rest of that sad story. Chemists tell us that only one grain of iodine imparts color to seven thousand times i!s weight of water. So in our lives things that seem only trifling at the time— a misspent Sabbath, a broken promise, a careless word even—oftentimes give color to events of infinite importance. God grant us grace to comprehend the vast ness of that brief word only, ere it be too late. The Jew. The Jew still walks the earth, and bears the stamp of his race upon his forehead. Tic is still the same toeing as when ho Hi st wandered forth from the hills of Judea. If his name is associated with avarice and extortion, and spoken in bitterness and scorn, yet, in the morning of history, it gathers round it recollections sacred and holy. The Jew is a miracle among nations. A wanderer in all lands, he has been a wit ness of great events of history for more than eighteen hundred years. lie saw classic (Jrecce when crowned with inlellec tual triumphs. He lingered among that broken but beautiful architecture that rises like a tombstone over the grave of her de parted splendor. The Jew saw Rome, the “ mighty heart” of nations, sending its own ceaseless life’s throb through all the arteries of its vast empire. He, too, has seen that heart cold and still in death. These have perished, yet the Jew lives on—the same silent, mysterious, indestructible being. The shadow of the Crescent rests on Palestine, the signet of a conqueror's faith —still the Jew and his religion survive. He wanders a captive in the streets of his own once queenly Jerusalem, to meditate sad and gloomily on the relics of ancient power. Above him shines the clear sky, fair as when it looked down on the towers of Zion ; but now alas ! beholds only a deso late city and an unhappy land. The world is his home. The literature of the ancient Hebrew triumphs over all creeds, and schools, and sects. Mankind worship in the sacred songs of David, and bow to the divine teachings of Jesus of Nazareth who also was a son of Abraham. Such is the Jew. His ancient dreams of empire are gone. How seldom do we realize, as we see him in our city streets, that he is the creature of such a strange, peculiar destiny. Neither age, nor country, norclimate, have changed him. Such is the Jew, a strange and solitary being, and such the drama of his long and mournful history. Itnpiri of Siihjcrl. There were two of them hanging over the front gate the other night. She was standing within the yard and he on the sidewalk outside, both leaning on the top rail, and apparently as happy as two pigs in a corn-field. He was saying, “ Now. my own little darling, sweet idol of my soul, whose image is ever on my heart.” when he saw the old man coming down the front walk, and continued in a different strain. “ The potato bugs haven’t destroy ed our crops so much since we purchased paris green, and you will find, also, that cabbages can be raised better on a richer soil.” The old gentleman heard it, and turned back, saying, as he entered the house, “ These young people take more in terest in agricultural affairs than people generally suppose.” Tt is stated that an old man at Black ville, S.C.. recently declined an offer of 12£ cents on the dollar for $750 Confederate money. The Courier-Journal pronounces the story ridiculous, and says: “if the person who made the offer will only prose cute his efforts he can get a steamboat load of that sort of currency at less than 124 cents on the dollar, as when the war closed thousands of people had all the old barrels | und boxes about the premises crammed 1 full of it, and the most of them have got it yet.” HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 1, 1877. l.iiiCN to n Dri'tismitkcr. Charles Francis Adams in Deernit Free Press. 4 I. Ob, wherefore bid mo leave thy side, Dear Polly ! I would a- A : How can 1 all my feelings cloak. When in thy smiles 1 basque? Nay, “ Polly-nay,” 1 cannot go ! <Mi. do not stand aloof When of my warm affection You possess, oh, wat-er proof. 11. Why will you thus my feelings gore By sending me away ? You know it's wrong, of corset is, Thus to forbid my stay. It seems as though some fell disease Was knawing at my heart. And hem-orrhage would soon ensuo If we, perchance, should part. 111. I'lien waist the precious time no more, But let the parson tie us Sew firmly that the marriage knot Shall never be cut bias. . In peaceful quietude we’ll float On life's unruffled tide, Nor let the bustle of the world “ Pull-back ” as on we glide. Hornet hi ita' in the lied. 21 ex A deter. Judge Pitman has a habit of slipping his watch under his pillow when he goes to bed. The other night somehow it slipped down, and, as the Judge was restless, it gradu ally worked its wav downward toward the foot of the bed. Alter a bit, while he was lying awake, his foot touched it, and it felt very cold; he was surprised and scared, and, jumping from bed lie said : “ By gracious Maria ! there’s a toad or snake or something under the covers. 1 touched it with my foot.” Mrs. Pitman gave a loud scream and was out on the floor in an instant. “ Now don't go to hollering and waking up the neighbors,” said the Judge. “ You go and get me a broom or something, and we’ll lix the thing mighty quick.” Mrs. Pitman got the broom and gave it to the Judge, with the remark that she felt as if snakes were creeping all up and down her legs and back. “0, nonsense, Maria ! Now you turn down the covers slowly, while I hold the broom and hang it. Put a bucket of water alongside the bed, too, so's we can shove it in nnd drown it.” •*—*- Mrs. Pitman fixed the bucket and gently removed the covers. The Judge held the broom uplifted, and as soon as the black ribbon of the watch was revealed, he cracked away three or four times with his broom. Then he pushed the thing off into the bucket. Then they took the bucket to the light to investigate the matter. When the J udge saw what it was, he said : “ I might’ve known that. Just like you women, to go screeching and fussing about nothing. Who’s going to pay me for that watch? It’s utterly ruined.” “ It was you that made the fuss, not me,” said Mrs. P. You needn’t try to put the blame off on me.” “O, hush up, and go to bed. I’m tired of hearing you blather. Blame me if I ain't going to get a divorce and emigrate.” And the Judge turned in and growled at Maria until he fell asleep. The I>;ui|iiin* Heart. T/acy Hooper in Philadelphia, Telegraph. A curious story is now going the rounds of the papers relative to a singular relic of royalty, namely, the heart of the hapless Dauphin, or rather the boy King, Louis XVII. At the time of his death he was under the care of a skillful and learned physician named Pclletan, who presided at the post mortem examination of the poor child's body, a task wherein he was assist ed by three of his colleagues, and which proved that death had been produced by scrofula and consumpti n. During this examination Pelletan contrived to steal the heart, unseen by his companions, and to conceal it he w rapped it in his handkerchief and put it in his pocket. He afterwards placed it in spirits to preserve it. At the end of a few years the alcohol poured upon it had all evaporated, and the heart bad become thoroughly dry. So he put it in a draw’er with sundry other anatomical prep arations, and troubled himself no more about it. On one occasion it was stolen from him by a secretary, w’ho knew what it was, and he only regained it after the death of the thief. When Louis XVIII. ascended the throne, M. Pelletan hastened to offer him this precious relic, suggesting that it should be deposited with all due form and ceremony on the high altar of St. Dennis. But the King, for some reason or other, probably because he suspected the authenticity of the relic, declined the offer, and would have nothing to do with it. So the heart of the poor little Dauphin, most guiltless of the many sufferers of that time, is now in the possession of Dr. Gabriel Pelletan. the son of its original owner. When Marie Antoinette first clasped her noble infant boy in her arms, her wildest imaginings could never have depicted the ultimate fate of the baby heart that beat against her paternal bosom—a dried ana tomical preparation in the hands of a Pa risian doctor. The Days of 1 he Week. Our names of days of the week were in troduced by the Northern pirates, miscalled Saxon, and were derived from the Scandi navian mythology, as : Sunday—The Sun’s day. Monday—The Moon's day. Tuesday—Tico's (or Tuisco’s) day, Wednesday—Woden’s day. Thursday—Thunre’s (or Thor's) day, Friday—Friga's (or Frea's) day. Saturday—Seterne's (or Saturn's) day. lion lo Explode a l.ainp. The Scientific American gives some of the circumstances which lead to the explo sion of kerosene lumps, the philosophy of all of them being that the tlamo may pass down the wick and ignite the vapor which accumulates in the upper portion of the lamp. This vapor is not explosive, as the term is ordinarily understood, lmt when it is confined so that the gasses resulting from its combustion can not escape freely into the open air, the vessel confining it will be shattered. This ignition of the vapor may be brought about as follows : 1. “A lamp may be standing on a table or a mantel, and a slight puff of air from the open window or door may cause an ex plosion. 2. “A lamp may be taken up quickly from a table or mantel ami instantly ex plode. J. “ A lamp is taken out into the entry where there is a draft, or out of doors, and an explosion ensues. f. “ A lighted lamp is taken up a flight of stairs, or is raised quickly to place on the mantel, resulting in an explosion. In these cases the mischief is done by the nir movement —either by suddenly checking the draft, or forcing air down the chimney against the flame. 5. “ Blowing down the chimney to ex tinguish the light is a frequent cause of ex plosion. fi. “ Lamp explosions have been caused by using a chimney broken off at the top, or one that has a piece broken out, where by the draft is variable and flame un steady. 7. “ Sometimes a thoughtless person nuts a small wick in a large burner, thus leaving considerable space along the edges of the wick. An old burner with the air draft clogged up, which rightfully should be thrown away, is sometimes continued in use, and the final result is in an explosion. An |!llcr Hull. We have heard of practical jokers going a long way around to gain their point; hut an incident occurring recently in Virginia City, Nev.. puts the tassel on the cap of the climax. It seems that one of the emi nently respectable citizens of that town is the owner ot a stock ranch in Texas. A short w hile ago he received from his agent there a photograph of a high-priced blooded bull, a magnificent specimen of pure Dur ham. The old gentleman (who by the way is near-sighted) was justly proud of the .r>t'oto"T:;nh nd took, iofiovie qyjigbt > dis playing ii turn extolling its merits to every one who came in his office. Seeing this, a couple of his young friends took the picture from its place one day, and pasted over the rear half the corresponding port on of a cow’s photograph. The picture thus pre pared was rephotographed and placed in the accustomed place of the original. As usual, the old gentleman took out the pho tograph the next day to show' to a friend whom he had called in for the purpose. Handing it to him with a look of pride, he exclaimed: “ There, sir, there is a bull that is a bull, and no mistake. That is the kind of bulls we raise in Texas, sir. The examining party gave one glance at the picture and tossed it back, wdlh the re mark : “Well, if that's the kind of bulls you raise in Texas, your stock won’t in crease much, that's all I can say.” The old gentleman, with a look of hor ror on his countenance, hastily glanced at the photograph, put on his eyeglasses, held it out at arms-length, turned it over and over, and finally, when he got his breath exclaimed: “ Why, bless me ! Bless my soul ! Really—’pon my word, what kind of a bull is this ?” Then one of the jokers, looking over the shoulder of the irate and astonished stock farmer, exclaimed: “That? why that’s an udder bull of course!” “ My John.” A New' Orleans paper has this: Gover nor Nicholls’ apartments were crowded with many visitors who had called upon matters of business (and some without bus iness), when suddenly the governor’s atten tion was attracted by the door flying vio lently open, whereupon in stalked a female of no very small dimensions. The gover nor, with his usual urbanity, rose and ask ed the female to be seated; but this, with scornful mien, she peremptorily declined, at the same time asking : “ Are you the governor?” “ 1 am, madam,” was the reply. “ Well, sir, if you are the governor, I’d like to know where my John is.” The governor became confused, and in quired, who is John? “ Who is John, indeed?” reiterated the excited individual. “ Who is John? why, sir, you as governor should know that John is my lawful, wedded husband.” “ I assure you, madam, that 1 know nothing of your John, as I have never seen him, and this is the first time I have ever had the pleasure of meeting you.” Whereupon the infuriated female hissed forth : “ \ ou're a pretty governor, to be sure; governor of the State of Louisi na and not know where my John is ! Why, sir, the duty of a governor, let me tell you. is to know where every decent, respectable woman's husband is.” Thereupon she made a break for the door and came near upsetting the porter, who, as luck would have it, made a dexter ous lunge to one side and saved himself. l'ickleri Onion*. Take some small onions, peel and throw them into a stewpan of boiling water, set them over the fire, and let them remain un til quite clear; then take them out quickly and lay them between two cloths to dry. Boil some vinegar with ginger and a whole pepper, and, when cold, pour it over the onions in glass jars, and tie them closely over, " o|< •• liiick MtUrts." Detroit Fro* I'rest. They were a sleepy lot on the four o’clock ear going down Michigan avenue yesterday. The day was hot, the dust thick, and only one man, ami he beyond the prime of life, opened his eyes as a wo man crowded in. with a long paper-box under her arm. His eyes opened a little more as she sat down near him, and, pres ently, they widened to their fullest extent as he read the label on the box—“ Ono | doeen open-backed shirts.” He glanced from the box to the female and back, and I groaned out: j “ l.aml ’o love! but what will cornu next?” She looked around at him as if she feared j that a case of colic would come next, and lie brightened up a little and said : “ n ell, I've worn 'em for a year, and I know they are handy and reliable. If my daughters want to get half-a-dozen npioco 1 shan't cry over it.” “ Were you speaking to me?” she nsked, after seeing that no one else seemed inter ested. " I sorter was, and sorter wasn’t” ho replied, ns he worked a faint smile to his i face, “ I was saying that it's wonderful ' how much the inventive genius of this country lias done for us on the shirt ques | lion.” She hitched away a little. “ Twenty years ago,” he ninsed, ns ho hitched after her, “ if any man had told mo that the dormant genius of this country would soon muse up and invent a button | behind shirt I'd have looked upon him as ! crazy. But dormant genius was all O. K. She roused, she invented and l’vo got ono o’ them very shirts on.” The look she gave him ought to have torn him all to pieces, hut it didn't. “One year ago,” he calmly resumed, “ if anybody bad told me that the gentler sex would soon demand open-backed shirts, I'd have gone a fishing and never returned. But the epoch has hove in sight—she's right here. I can recommend them as boss.” “ Who arc you talking to, sir ?” she de manded in nn awful voice. “ 'To you, madam. I was saying that if T wear t hem there is no reason why you shouldn't.” “ I appeal to these passengers !” she ex citedly exclaimed. “Sodo I ” he answered. “Everybody in this car, with a hutton-bohind shirt on, will please stand up until 1 can count noses.” The old man stood up. Ho was all alone, lie looked around in a sorrowful way. and said : “ The noses have it, and the resolution is laid on the table. However, I’ll stick to mine, and I don't believe this woman boro will go back on her dozen till she has given them a fair show. Which side of the neck do they button on. madam?” The yells that followed brought in the driver. 'The old man was pointed out as a drunkard and a woman-insultor, and the driver was feeling for his neck when the astonished man cried out: “ Who’s drunk ! Who’s insulted any “ He kept talking about sTiirts I” efuitt the woman with the box. “ And you’ve got a box-full !” shouted the man. “ I hain’t nei !” She turned lip the box, and saw the la bel for the first time. She grew red, then white, and there was an awful silence. Ripping off the cover she exhibited a bolt of mosquito netting nestled away in the box. Nay, she belli it up, and even shook it at the old man. De smiled softly, nod ded his head a dozen times, and blandly said : “Correct, madam —I tumble to it. That doesn’t look like a dozen button-behind shirts, and I’m grieved if I offended. Put it back, madam, forget that you ever saw me, and wear any kind you are a mind to !” NUMBER 41). Prevention ol Swaiinlna. A correspondent of the lice Krrjicrit Mmjazinr, in relation to the swarming of bees, says : “ After 1 have had all the in crease I desire, when a hive shows an incli nation to swarm I move it to the place of some weaker hive. In that way 1 make all my colonies strong, and when l have accomplished that object hut still have a hive that threatens to swarm I change places with another, that may also show signs of swarming. The change of the workers destroys the propensity ofswnrm ing for the time being, and by giving them plenty of box room they will store honey, and if they are again inclined to swarm, you may move back again and it will have the elfect.” Miss Corisande was born only two years earlier than her brother Tom. When Tom was ten years old she gloried because she was twelve. When Tom was known to bo fourteen, she confessed to sweet sixteen. When Tom proudly boasted of eighteen, she timidly acknowledged herself past nine teen. When he came home from college, with a moustache and a vote, and had a party in honor of his twenty-first birthday, she said to her friends : “ What a boyish fellow he is ; who w-ould think he was only a year younger than I?” And when Tom declared he was twenty-five years and old enough to get married, she said to a gentle man friend, “ Do you know, 1 feel savagely jealous to think of Tom getting married. But then I suppose twins always are more attached to each other than other brothers and sisters.” And two years later at Tom’s wedding, she said with girlish vivacity, to the wedding guests, “ Dear old Tom, to see him married to-night and then think how, when he was only five years old, they brought him to see me, his baby sister ; t wonder if he thinks of it to-night.” You have met Miss Corisande, probably. She lives in your town. —Bvrlinfjton Hawk-eye. Sandersville Herald : “Mr Kirkland cut open a hollow log to catch a rabbit the other day, and on drawing it out he also drew out an immense rattlesnake that had partially swallowed the rabbit. He struck ; the snake upon the head, when sixteen young furious rattlesnakes ran out the ! pouch under the body of the mother snake, rhe little snakes were very bellicose, but were all killed. There were seventeen rat tles on the old stake, and it measured about five feet in length.”