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A LITTLE HEROINE. It 'rfas a paradox of ours that Jenny’s strong point was her weakness. She was a pretty little thing, as timid as a mouse. Slic was afraid of thunder, of the dark, of rats and of snider*. She was afraid of policemen, or being left alone, u# getting run ovet, and she waa afraid, especially, of firearms in any shape. Jenny was my younger brother’s wife. Alf use*!, more than any of ns to ridi cule her timidness. But I don’t know we liked her any the less for it. She was a beautiful, tender-hearted child, and simplicity itself. No one could be much aunoyed by Jenny. Alf was sincerely sorry, however, that she was So afraid of firearms, for ho thought it well for a woman to know how to use a pistol. Men, he Raid consider it desireable to learn how to handle one, yet are no of teucr called to protect themselves than are women. He considered it a rare and valuable accomplishment in a Indy. Yet no urgency could prevail on Jenny to touch one. “ I don’t know anything about revol vers, 1 and 1 don’t want to knaw, dear Alf,” she would say, appealingly, tears of Actual distress in her pleading eyes when ne scolded reproaching her with the uselessness of his lessons. “ But I will get you a pretty little pistol—a mere toy,” he said. “ Some girls—girls of pluck and courage, would be delighted to be taught the use of and own a uice one, Jenny!” “ I know I’m a dreadful coward, dear. I don’t wonder that you don’t love me, and prefer girls of more spirit.” whimpered Jenny, beginning to cry, “Oh, well! there, there 1” soothed soft-hearted Alf. And then perhaps he would refrain from returning to the attack for near a week, for it was hard for him to give up any tiling he had set his mind on doiug. At length he brought home a little revolver, and tried to tempt Jenny into the use of it. “ Oh. please—please excuse :r.e, dear!” she cried, so earnestly, that I pitied aud interceded in her behalf. “ Don’t tease her so Alf. Where is the need of a woman learning to protect herself when she has a husband to pro tect her?” “ But I should think she would like to use this !” rejoined Alf, rtuher fretful ly, as he took up the elegant little in strument. “As Jenny and I never expect to fight a duel, or shoot a bandit at fifty paces, we don’t see the fascination as you do,” I said, still parrying on Jen toy’s side, for she was looking rather dis mal after her scolding. She loved Alf devotedly, and it Wounded lier tender soul to have him displeased with her. She stood, with varying color, wishing, no doubt, that the noisy dangerous things did not so fill" her little heart with horrible alarms. She liked nothing so well as gratify ing Alf. Nothing depressed her so much as having him disappointed. “ Oh, I wish I wasn't afraid!” she cried, so pathetically, that her husband took sudden pity on her, and caught her up in his arms with a kiss. “Well, Jen ny, I wont plague you any more. I’ll try to always be on hand to do your fighting for you,*" he said. He put the pistol on the mantel-piece, warping us not to touch it, as it was loaded, and poor little Jenny’s relief was evident, for the end of her troubles in this direction, had certainly come. All summer we had been expecting at Cyprus Lawn, the visit of a school friend ofhers, and, a few days after this, a note came from Miss Fairlie, saying she would be with us on the following day. As the young lady was a beauty and au heiress, Jenny laughingly warned my two marriageable brothers, who resided with us, to get themselves up in the most killing style* “ For there’s no knowing what may come of Lily's coming down here to vis it us, boys,” she said, “ I shall be busy with baby, and you’ll have to beau her about, you know, Chris, Carl, I’iff sure she'll be wild to go out in your boat af ter water-lilies.” I could not but notice that these hints were not thrown away upon the young men, who solemnly promised to put on their war paint aud feathers upon Miss Fairlie’s arrival. •Jenny’s baby was but four months old—a very tiny bit of wax-work—and the next morning the young mother bathed and dressed it carefully, with a brave show of embroidery and blue sash, and put it iri its carriage for Dorothy, the maid, to wheel up and down the road, while her mistress was busy within doors. “ Don’t take baby out of sight, Do rothy,” had been Jenny’s last command. “She’ll fall asleep, the darling. The fresh air always makes her drowsy, you know, Esther,” she said to me. “ And then she,ll be just bright from her nap for Lily to see first. Lily used to be de lighted with little babies, and I want her to love mine.” And then Jenny must needs put on j her pink cambric wrapper, “ because Lily was so fastidious.” and when the house had been put in exquisite order, and every vase under the roof filled with flowers, Alf-drove to thestation to meet Miss Fairlie by the deven o’clock train. “He must take this wrapper to pro tect Lily’s dress —her traveling costume i$ always so exquisite,” she said, run ning to the door just as he started. Then she called out: “Oh, Alf, why have you taken Black Pete? I fear Lily will be afraid to ride behind him.” My brother had harnessed up a fiery blooded horse he had just broken—a magnificent creature, whose very whin- VOL. II—NO. 29. ny Jenny shuddered at, aud she would aooi er have been taken to drive with a whirlwind. “ Oh, no, she wont. She isn’t a little scarecrow like you. Miss Fairlie is a girl of courage!” “Well, be careful t do be eareftil, dear Alf!” “Yes, yes!" he answered, lightly whirling out of the yard. The station was half mile away. We could sec the train come in across the level, unbroken country, anil sitting on the upper piazza with my brother, I could follow Black Pete along every inch of the white, winding read. “You will see him coming back when the train is in, and you must tell me if he has got Lily, Esther,” called Jenny from her room, where she was putting some last touches to her dress—placing a white rose at the throat, and another in the hair, I think. “ You are so sharp sighted, you know, and I’m afraid she wou’t come.” “Chris and Carl will watch if I don’t,’* I laughed, for Carl, the youngest, was in especial killing array, and his moustache waxed. “ You shall be duly informed, my dear.” Soon the train came in, and in a hriel time passed the station. In a moment I could see Alfs carri age turned towards home, I did not know what frightened tlic horse then, but the next instant I saw him leap upon his hind feet, and fran tically paw the air. Then, iu a Hash oi time, he was tearing madly up the road. My brothers precipitated themselves to the ground; 1 think the piazza must have been fifteen feet from the sward ot the lawn, hut they took the leap with out a thought. As for me, bciug a womau, I could do nothing but tremble, weep and wring my hands, I thought. Not so Jeuny. She sprang out up on the piazza, and gave one cry — “ My baby!” All, heavens above! The dainty baby-carriage stood at the open roadside, right in the path of the maddened ani mal, the girl having gone a few steps away to gather some clematis. It was about a rod from the house, in the direction of the station, and we could see the little, dimpled, white hands tossing iu the sunshine, while we knew the terrible home must reach the little, helpless thing before we could. But Chris tried frantically to save his pet iu the face of hopelessness 1 saw him start towards it, shouting wildly* Thin Jenny stood beside me, one little arm extended. There was something in the white jewelled hand ; I did not see what. But a short, sharp explosion told the story. A scream broke from my lips, and my distended eyes saw the horse fall, and the carriage reel and then come to a standstill in the middle of the road. Her aim had been strangely true. The animal had been shot through the heart, they told me afterwards, and his reddest blood poured iu the middle of the road. And Jenny? I turned and caught her as she was sinking senseless upon the floor of the piazza. “ The baby—the baby is saved!” she gurgled, as she lapsed into a faint, from which we could not rouse her for two hours. Tn a few moments Alf and Miss Fairlie were in the boilse. The latter proved herself a sensible girl. She helped me to lay Jenny on tlie bed by the open window, where we used onr greatest efforts to resuscitate lief for a long while. Poor, little Jenny ! She opened her wild eyes at last, and screamed until the roof rang. She clung with hysteric force alxrat her husband's neck, until someone thought to bring her the baby. At sight of its fair, innocent face, she snatched the little form, and broke Into tempestuous weeping, which gradually softened. At last she lay quiet, with hidden face, while we looked pitifully at each other. Her terrible strain of nerves rendered her ill for a week. Alf hung over her devotedly, proud as could be of his “ little heroine,!’ as he called her. “ Bless that little right hand—it saved three lives !” he said, kissing it. “ Poor, little baby ! You know she could not help herself at all! Jenny would say, with a quivering lip. It was Jenny’s first and last shot, for she never would touch a pistol again. Cure for Poison. Take a heaping teaspoonful of com mon salt, and as much ground mustard, stir them in a cup of warm water and drink quickly. This preparation will have hardly reached the stomach before it returns, bringing with it the cause of trouble. Lest any remnant of the poison remain, let the white of an egg or a teacup of strong coffee be swallow ed as soon as the stomach is quiet, be cause those very common articles nulli fy a larger number of virulent poisons than almost any medicine. Clothes are a luxury in Ujiji. A postage stamp over the eyebrow is Con sidered a full dress. A Curious Cat, ami the Squlrt-tiun. Form! XVic*. We met him in the road one morning last summer, and perceiving that a part of his coat tail was gone, and that he was a little shy, fro ventured to ask him if anything uncommon had hap pened during the previous night. “ No; nothing in particular,” said Jim; “only a little scrape that boys will sometimes get into, you know.” Being on intimate terms, we asked him to relate the particulars, and pull ing his ragged coat tail to the opposite side, he thus related hie sail experi ence : “ You see that hoys will get into scrapes sometimes in spite of all they can do. ’Spect you know that I lovn Miss Jennie , and last night I went over to ask her to have me. Now the old man don’t like me worth a cent, so I slipped into the parlor where Jen nie was waiting for me. It was as dark as Egypt,; hut I think she met me with a smile, because lier mouth was open when I kissed her. I enn’t say that I like that kind of kissing—it mak(fl ev erything seem so confounded hollow; but then it was Jennie, and I didn't care much, you know. “ I never l’elt so alloverish in my life,” continued Jim; after a pause. “ The buss gave ine the nervuscs, and my heart jumped about like pop-corn in a hot frying-pan. I was determined to tell Jennie how much I loved her, and tried to whisper, hut I could not. Every word I said seemed like it come out of a barrel, and the further I went the louder I got. Presently I heard somebody turn over on a bed in another room, and a hoarse voice demanding to know of Jennie who was in the parlor with her. “ It’s Tom. the old cat, air,” said she “Growl like a cat, Jim,” she then whispered to me. I set up such a ter rible growling that it made the old man bounce upon the floor. “Scat, you bitch,” yelled Jennie,and then in alow whisper she said to me. “ For mercy’s sake, Jim, mew again just like a cat, and let’s fool him or the very mischief will be to pay?” I made an effort to mock a cat, but it was a terrible failure. “By this time I heard Jennie’s father coining towards the parlor door, and calling for a light. This was more than I could stand, and out at the win dow I went: A dratted nail caught my my coat, and you see it held on to part of the tail. Just as I turned the corner of the house, I hoard the old men yell out, “ Good heavens, Jennie, irhat a rat, and its tail is made out of white linen to boot. I tell you what it is, my i gal ” but I heard no more, for a big yaller dog came at me like he was ' running down grade on greased wheels. “1 tut Tige and I had met before, ami I was prepared for him, I had a big squirt-gun full of fine red pepper. (Quicker than thought I squirted the pepper into his open mouth and big eyes so plump that he had enough to do without paying any further attention to me. While he was coughing and claw ing I thought I had better get further, and here am I on my way home. “ I am sorry of the scrape, hilt I can’t help it now. I can never explain the coat-tail business to mother, and besides this, t have lost my squirt-gun. If Jennie finds it she will wonder her self half to death to know what I was doing with such a thing full of ted pep- 1 per. She may think I intended to j squirt it in her daddy’s eyes ; but drat, if I did-—I knowed old Tige tbo well.” Here Jim paused, and casting a Woe begone glance at his ragged coat-tail, he went on towards home muttering to himself, “ Y r es, and I wonder what in the thunder daddy will say about this ; everlasting scrape when he hears of it.; It all comes of a fellows gal opening her mouth when he goesto kiss her.’* Why Popes Change Their Names. frrhn the Bolton Journal. It is ft fact generally known that monks and nuns on assuming their vows, and popes on ascending their pontifical throne, usually change their names. The reason of this change in the Case of the popes is a superstitious belief that unless this is done the pope will not live long. The custom has prevailed since it was inaugurated in 956 by Octavian Conti, who assumed the name aud title of John XII* Julius Medici would have made a breach had he been per mitted, but his friends prevailed upon j him to take the name of Clement, he being the seventh pope to bear that name. Thirty-two years later, in 1755,1 Marcelius Servius was elected, and in- 1 sisted upon retaining his own name. As Marcelius 11., therefore, he ascended the throne on the 9th of April. He was a young man and in robust health, and yet he lived but twenty-one days after his elevation. Since that time no pope has ventured to offend against the tradition. It is a little singular that while the name of John has been a fa vorite one, no less than twenty-one popes I having chosen it since the death of John XXII., in 1416. The first pope bear ing the name of Pius was chosen in 142, and the name did not appear after his death till 1196. HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY. MARCH 13, 1878. A Carpi'liter’s Terrible Death. A Virginia City (Nev.) correspondent tells the awful story of a man’s death at the Savage carpenter shop in that city. The man, whose name was Wm. Carpenter, was boring a hole through a stick of hard wood about three Inches thick and eight feet long, and was lean ing his might, against it, under the im pression that there was a guage attached to the machinery to prevent the block from going ftirt her along the anger than the dietnnoe required. Suddenly a workman near Carpenter observed an indescribable look on his face as his laxly siiot forward and doubled over the terriUc- machine. It had passed, like a fencer’s aword, tliroughJiis stomach, and was protrud ing at t&e back. lie was literally im paled npm the auger, which was churn ing his intestines at the rate of from 1.000 to 1,500 revolutions per minute. In the midst of this horrible agony 'Carpenter seems to have maintained his present* of mind, for he east himself backward and got off the auger, falling to the floor as he did so. The most terrible excitement prevailed among his comrades in the shop, and there was a rush to ttie prostrate man, The sight must have almost paralyzed them. Carpenter was lying ou his back, with his clothes twisted and torn alwive the region of the abdomen. Just above him the deadly auger was still whizzing, and clinging to it was a mass of intes tines, the loose ends of which spread out with the devolutions and gave the , anger the appearance of a buzz-saw. Tic wai t aken to a room and the phy sicians who were summoned decided that he had )>etter die under the influ ence of chloroform. Before the drug was administered he was told that he would never come from under its influ ence alive. He merely nodded, bade those about him good by, and in a few minutes was unconscious. He lay in this state as calmly as a sleeping child until a little after four o’clock the next morning, ’ when the influence of the chloroform passed off and he opened his eyes. He did not seem to suffer much pain, and occasionally talked to his attendants. He died at five o’clock, and, os those who saw him said, “ Died like a man.” His last words were, “I am passingdnto the unknown.” - Joseph and Madame Potlphar. Waahington Capital. A French Indy, distinguished in so • eiety as having more adorers than any other woman, died the other day, leaving her husband a freedom he had long sighed for and an ancient hall. The beautiful lady was eurhumoc (French for bad cold) from going to a hall. But then she must also go to another hall two nights afterwards instead of staving in her bod. In vain the doctor told her it would be her death. The lady cough ed badly, but replied: “ But, my friend, do yoti not under stand that a woman of fashion can af ford to die, but cannot afford to miss Count Hopperini’s hall, where all the most grand world will he. Will 1 die ? Eh bien, you shall sec ; I give directions for a more grand funeral than Paris has yet seen. 1 send for Worth tout do suite ; I make myself fitted for a liuceul (French for winding street,) in which I flatter myself my adorers shall still find me charming Viola.” At the hall she was rather more beautiful and bewitching than usual, and rftHy, if over had a salon witnessed a triumph of such eclat; hut the next day the beauty couldn't move and hud to semi for a priest, while her husband was made sad by glancing over the long itemized prospectus for the funeral. Placing her fair hand in that of her husband, the lady said, in faint accents : “ Monami, if you love me, swear that you will do something which I shall ask.” “ I swear.” “ Then see that all shall he as t have directed, especially the black plumes on the horses heads,” And her mind be ing easy on that point, she faintly asked the priest to read something from the Bible, and when he requested to know what particular part she liked best, she replied: “Alas! I know the good book so lit tle : but attendez my father, isn’tthcre in the sacred volume that sweet little story of the young Joseph and Mme. Potl phar ? ' Read me that, I pray you.” And with that reminisence of the good book the famous belle was rocked into eternal sleep. Three Millions of Mothers* There are said to be three millions of mothers in the United States. Now suppose each of these mothers should consecrate and train up one of her sons —only one—“ in the way ho should go”—a noble Christian patriot., unsel fish, humane and scrupulously just. What a moral influence there would be, with the muscle to back it. What presidents, cabinets, judges and other public officers we would have ? There would be no more returning board pres idents, no more Justice Bradleys. And for “ woman’s rights,” what noble, du- tlAil son would deny to woman anything that pertains to her sphere in lifts ? The mother’s power is in the training of her son. jim’s enters. O If. X in Tribun*. " Let’s play circus!” “ Why, Jim Peters, I’m jitst going right in to tell mother,” said Jim’s little Bister Mabel. “What for?” said Jim. “ Circuses is such a aw Ail wicked thing,” replied Mabel. “ Men just stand on their heads and ride horseback without sitting down ; and it costs twenty-five cents, too-" “ Suppose if you got in without pay ing anything it wouldn’t lie so wicked?" said Jim. " I don’t know, that it It,” replied Mabel; “only I thought it was the horses with nothing on ’em, and the monkeys and things.” “First,” said Jim, “I suppose we shall have to choose a president.” " Are you sure circuses have hesi dents?” said a little boy who couldn’t sound his p’s. " Of course,” said Jim, and as they all voted for him, he was elected without much tfOttblei “ Well, we’ve got to have a tent any way,” said Mabel, “ cause I saw it in the picture—a great white tent that looked like a tremendous big umbrella made out of sheets dr something,” Many and varied were the plans sug gested for this tent, but the president finally settled the matter by ordering them all into the woodshed, where they soon cleared away the chips, and had plenty of room for the performance. “ I tell yon what,” said Mabel; “ I will lie the whale, and sit on this little wood-pile and bark.” “ Now, see here, Mabel Peters, I’m president, and I don’t want a whale at all; and if I did 1 wouldn't let him bark, liecause whales don’t hark. “They only upset boats with their tails,” said Jim. “ Then I tell you whnt,” said Mabel, “ you let Tommy Mace be the boat, and I’ll upset him ; see if I don’t." ,“ Mabel,” said the president, stefhly, “if you don’t stop talking at once, I siiali make you be the audience but I don’t believe she would have stopped if the log on which she was sitting hadn't rolled over and tumbled her up so that she hod to go into the house for a dean apron. “ I suppose,” said the president, “the first thing to do now is to choose n mon key. Has any one here ever been a monkey before?” “ I never have been one,” said a little fellow with cheeks as red as a sunset, “ hut I can soon learn, 1 guess. It is easy?” “ Why, all you have to do,” said the president, “ is to sort of run ’round." “ Don't monkeys ever say anything?” asked the red-cheeked boy. But the president couldn’t tell him. and so it was decided that lie should say, “ I’m a monkey. I’m a monkey,” once every minute, to distinguish him from the other animals. " Well, if I can’t be a whale,” said Mabel, who had jiist returned, “ I’m going to be a polar beat, or I shan’t play. Polar bears is nice and soft. What do they do?” “ They don’t do anything all day, but just sit on the ice ami shiver,” said the president. “Then I won't be him,” said Mabel. “What is some real itice respectable animal, that docs nothing but eat candy all time? I’ll be him. “ And I! And I!” Ami 11” shouted all the little girls, and about hul/ the boys. It was some time before the list of animals was complete, and I don't be lieve Barnum himself ever had such a collection in his life. “ Is there anyone hefewhocan stand on bin head !” asked the president. Two small boys, with very big heads, held ftp their hands. “ As the performance is about to be gin,” said the president, “ any animal but the monkey who speaks a word till he's spoken to will be put in the corner-” No the two little boy<* with the big heads came forward and tried to stand on ’em. They tumbled this way and that, and dug their fingers into the dirt, and kicked their tries so hard that they went completely over. “ I guess their heads ain't flat enough on top,” said Mabel. “ The next time that animal speaks without permission she will be severely punished,” said the president. Either the heads were too big for the boys, or the boys too small for the heaths, I don’t know which, but it was evident from the first that they couldn’t stand on them and they withdrew from the arena, after having worked so faith fully that their collars came off. “ The next thing,” said the president “ will be”— “ The next thing,” interrupted Ma bel. “ Why, they ain’t done that yet. W ant to see me do it.” •' Mabel Peters, go this minute and stand in the corner by that black boar. WHOLE NO. 81 and don’t you whisper to him either," said the president. So Mabel went and stood in the cor ner. The next thing proved to be a horse race between four boys, One was so BT* citing that the entire collection of ani* male got Up and clapped their bands and shouted so loud that Bridget, the crone cook, came out and boxed one of the horse’s cars, and the only way they could console him was to say that he hod won the race, which wasn’t so at all { but as the three horses ahead of him agreed to it, all was right. “Is there any one here,” said the president, “ who lias got strong patches on the kneoß of his pantaloons?” A little boy got down from the wood pile and came forward. “Oh, what splendid big patches," said Milbeli “If I was A hoy it seems to me t should hate pantaloons with patches Jitst. like those. Wouldn’t you?” she Whispered to the black bear, But the black boar didn’t answer. He had patches, too, Imt they Wem’t on his knees. Ami he didn't cafe to continue the subject. “ My mother said that these are the last patches she's going to make me, and if 1 wearixl ’em through I'd hav* to go so, t hat's all.” The president told tho boy to get On liis hands and knees, and then lie called the monkey down, and told him to ride three times around the shed pa the boy’s back, “ But lie’s got such Uttle legs,” said the monkey, “ he’ll surely stumble,” and a shade or two of sunset Went out of his face. They Went for a little way all very well, bur pretty soon the pOny began to tremble around the knees, and the monkey was tho sCafledest looking monkey you ever saw. “Can I stop?'* said the pony. “ No,” said the president. “ Why don’t you whip him Up?” said Matwl; *• that’s all he needs.” " That's a tirst rate idea,” said the presideht, Which took every bit of strengtli out of the pony's logs, aud when they picked up the monkey hfl was rubbing so many parts of himself that Mabel said he milst have the rheu matism. By this time the animals all said that if they didn't do something tx> they should go home ; ami the kangaroo, who had been asleep with his head in the parrot's lap, said that animals at circus was no fun at all, “All right, then," said the president, we will now have a gland procession of animals and all tho rest of the circus. - ' So they got down from the wood-pile, “ Can’t we have some music?” asked Mabel. “ lad's slug "Twinkle, twinkle, little star,* ” said tue elephant; and so they started otr, making dually quite a re* spectable show. It sp happened that tho sleepy kan* garno was Jast, and as he had lustrum tinns from the president to hop as high as he coilld, he was trying to do his best at it. But he was more than half asleep, and he hadn't been once around the shed when lie hopped On the heel of the guinea-pig, who was just in front of him. The gUinca*plg gave a tremendous jump, and knocked over the gentle lamb, and the gentle lamb was so rnnd that I'm ashamed to say he kicked the guinea-pig three or four times; and just as they all ran up to stop the fight, Bridget, the ctxik, appeared witli * broom, and tile animals rushed out the door, and the gUinea-pig, who lived irt the next lumse., didn't stop until he was safe in his mother's arms; while nearly all the other animals said that if that was a circus they “ needn’t have to go to Sunday-school to find out that they was nwAil things,” Randolph fttul the Landlord. ,tno. Randolph was t raveling in a part of Virginia with which he was unac* quainted. In the meantime he stopped during the night at an inn at the forks of the road. The inn-keeper was a fine old gentleman. Knowing who his dis* tiuguished guest was, he endeavored to draw him into conversation, but failed in all his efforts. But in the mornings when Mr. Randolph was ready to start, lie called for his bill which, on being presented was paid. The landlord, still anxious to have some conversation with him, began as follows : “ Which way are you traveling, Mr. Randolph ?” “ Sir!” said Mr. Randolph, with A look of displeasure, “ I asked,” said the landlord, " which way you were traveling,” “ Have I paid my bill ?” “ Yes.’* “ Do I owe you anything more ?” “ No.” *• Well, I am going just where I please—do you understand ?” The landlord by this time had "ot somewhat excited, and Mr. Randolph drove off. But to the landlord’s sur* prise, the servant returned to inquire which of the forks of the road to take. Randolph not being out of hearing dis tance, the landlord spoke at the top of his voice: “ Mr. Randolph, you don’t owe me a cent; just take which road yon please !** A little boy, who writes to his “ fren Jimmy” that he is going to run away from school and be an editor, thus closes his letter: “ Tell yere sister Katv I don’t hav nothin moar to do with that Jinks girl, an lam troo to her. I wont git prowd and forgit her if I do be an edytur, nor you neether, Jimmy, if yore fokes is pore an ornery. Yores, truly, Jobkvy.”