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i.; * / a:-. J > , - \ , / • _ ^ Jy, . ' , scoond-clM* mutter at the San- gitsrea A„rii Q7 tssn XviUe Pohtofflee, April 37, 1880. jarfenrtUe, WuMarton Cowtj, Ha. rVBUSHID BT JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH. gnh*Hp<*w ••1.S0 per tear. THE MERCERY. A. J. JERNIGAN, Propriktor VOL. I. fi . w. H. WHITAKER. dentist, Sanderarille, Qa. Terms Cash. Offlofl at hi« residence on Ilarria Street April 3, 1830. B. D. EVANS, Attorney at Law, April 3, 1880, Sandersville, Ga. DR. WM. RAWLINGS, Physician & Surgeon Sftndersrille, Qa. Omco At Samloravllle Hotel. April 10, 1880. E. A. SULLIVAN, NOTARY PUBLIC, Sandarwillo, Qa. Special attention given to collection ol ©toinis. Oftlce in the Court-House. 0. H. ROGERS, Attorney at Law, Sandoravillo, Ga. Prompt Attention given to all busineea. Olllco in northwest room ot Court-House. Mat *, 1880. C. C. BROWN, Attorney at Law, Sanderarille, Qa. Will practice in the State and United Stater Offloe in Court-Honae. Courts H. N. HQLLIFIELD, Physician & Surgeon, Sanderarille, Qa. Offlra aaat da* to Mr». Dayne’e milliaerr 'on Hants Street. DR. J. B. ROBERTS, Physician & Surgeon, ie*d tear Ole, Qa. Usybaeoaeolted at hla oSn on Haynet •traa, in the Masonic Lodge huildio;, Irom 9 tato 1 p m, and iroaa I to 0 p as; during otter boor* at his reaMaaoe, on Ohnreh atreet, wbtn not protrasionally engaged. April 8 1880. Watches, Clocks UD JEWELRY UrilBCD SI JERNIGAN. POSTOFFICE HOUBS. 7:00 to 11:30 a. m. 1:30 to 6:00 p. m. K. A. Spu.traw. P. U. Subscribe for the MERCURY, Only 91.60 per annam. rUBUSHKD BT JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH. BUY YOUR Spectacles, Spectacles, FROM JERNIGAN. R**Nono genuine without onr Trade Mark. On hand and for sale. Music, Music. QO TO JERNIGAN FOR nouns, accordeons, BOWS, STRINGS, —Rosin boxes, etc. Machine Needles, OIL and SHUTTLES oJso nrdnr 01 . Maohine s, lor aale. I will r Pftrts oi Machines that get r oko, and new pieoes aro wanted. JERNIGAN. whiSS written a hook ' * now mneli vnori « — xrf in of “ “ “uujv on woman about in l’„;, n ° W ™ uch rcad and talked Were fixhnnofni 11 „ e Gn editions of it As few linnu- ^ * 10 rst day it appeared, j^oman) than th?l “ b ° Ut --, th .° , sub i eot ’ s very’ U1 °, author, tvhat he says Mitertainincv to T J 30 l3ot h truthful and Hi,-;.— , »• lie asserts that yhich if uDuuoonies oy ,ts value as m loun ded, and reduced to Poof flgm. 01 ? 6 Keutlment > outa a very Ihe Single of Learog. The ehetnuta droop low by the river, And sliady aro Ankerwjoko ticca• Tse dragon nb a fl ,ah and they quiver To somnolent humming ol boos! But here ia a spot ol tho past timo- l’m many n mile from the Whir l'll rest, and think ovor the last lime I Ventured to meditate horo. Oh, chestnuts aio shady, and golden are sheaves, And sweet is tha exquisite musio oflenves. I peute in this quaint little harbor, Quite out ot the swirl ol the stream; With leavos overhead like an arbor, 1 smoke, and I ponder, and dream. Tho hank, with its rough broken odgos, Kxists as in days now remotoj T hore’s still the laint savor of sodgos And lilies fresh orushed by the boat. Oh, broczes aro soil, and the dreamer receives The rarest relrniu Irom tho musio oi leavos! A brown-eyed and trusUul young maiden Then steered this identical skid', Her lap with lorgot-mo-nou laden, 1 now am forgot ton; but il- No matter! I ste tho sweet glory Ol lovo in thoso lathomloss oyos; l toll her on oltontold story— They sparkle with light and surprise! Oh, rivors aro rapid, and syrens wore thieves, Their musio was naught to tho music ol leavos! Ah, sweet, do you ovor remember The stream and its musical now ? Tho story 1 told in Sopteinbor, liio song ol tho loaves long ago? Our lovo was a beaulilul brief song, As sweet os your voioo and your oyos, But frail as n lyrical leal song, Insplied by the short summer sighs! Oiq summer is short, and the eoullor still grieves, His sorrow is oohood in musio oi leaves! —Lot,don World. Daisy’s First Winter. "Sol lmvo you nt last, D.dsy! To toll tho truth, I lmrilly thought Undo Richard would dare to expose you to a winter of city dissipation.” “ Oh, you know you proniisod papa wo should bo very quiet, as is suitable for a minister’s daughter, so I10 felt no fenr." Two girls woro seated togother iit a room, which might have boon designed by an artist, so perfect it was in all its luxurious details. They were cousins— one a wealthy city banker’s only child, the other the daughter of n country minister. Amy was a vivacious bru nette, whose every motion was so quick as to remind one forcibly of n brilliant humming bird. Daisy was a sweet rose bud of a girl, with sensitive mobile lips and deep gray eyes. It was her first winter in Now York, and tlio first time she had ovor been away from homo. “Now, Daisy,’’ continued Amy, “you liavo been quiet for three days, and to morrow I’m going to tnko you out. Show mo your party dresses.” Daisy flushed a little as slio rose, for she know the almost limitless oxtent of Amy’s wardrobe. Amy’s politeness was severely taxed as she looked at tlio threo prettily-fash- ionod costumes which were Daisy’s party dresses. It amused her to think of going through a season of city gayety with only three white drosses ; but she only said : “ Tlioy are lovely, Daisy—just lovely ! and when they aro soiled I will supply you ; wo aro of tho same height.” Daisy’s flush deepened as sho rather proudly said : “I didn’t expect to go to many par ties, Amy ; and when thoy aro soiled I shan’t go to any’more." Further speech was impossible, for Amy seized her in her strong young arms, and, gently shaking lior, ex claimed : “Duisy Allen, take that! I moan you shall make a winter of it. What if uncle is a minister? Make up your mind to do everything and anything, and if you thwart mo, woo bo to you.” Daisy was only eighteen, and full of life and fun, and once having cast scruples aside, she entered heartily into all Amy’s projects for their amusement. But Amy could not overrulo hor cousin, when, the following evening, she found her determined to wear a white dress to a “ German ” they were to at- tend. So sho had to content herself, when her offer of a ravishing “ciel-bluo” silk was refused, with looping and dot ting horo and there the simple dress with pure white rosebuds. She herself was attirod in cream silk and black laeo. Daisy had formed great anticipations of pleasure, as what young girl fresh from a quiet homo would not; and thoy were abundantly gratified. She did not do injustice to Amy’s boudoir lessens in waltzing, and tho graceful white-robed girl was the most conspicuous of the many belles who saw with envy their complexions fade beside her fresh loveli- Vis-a-vis to Daisy in a “Lanciers was a gentleman, f whose eyes had a mcsmenc influence, in that thoy made hers droop. She watched him in tho pauses of the dance,- and tried to make out tho dark, stern face. Was it stern because he did not approve of the glittering scene in which he mixed, or simply mdiflerent? Such woro Daisy's thoughts. But ho was soon forgotten when Amy 1 duoed to her an Apollo in modern garb, and took an opportunity to whisper in hor ear: . “Prince Charley, Daisy! Ho immediately claimed her hand ioi the next danco. , , „ Mr. Le Roy, or “Prince Charley as he was called, was the greatest catch of tho season. His parents were dead, and he the inheritor of their reputed vas “tripped of n a ® sei 'ts that “love, is so ..° necessities by P °Handsome scarcely described; him, and as Daisy felt the spell 0 liant conversation, as well as his beauty, she acknowledged Amy "a daughter! tUw opnte® 1 houte fOY ft Anfnrfainnifilliii DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. SANDERSVILLE, GA., NOVEMBER 30, 1880. daisy's pride suCciimbed to tlio strong desire to be beautiful and charming, and sue yielded to Amy’s coaxing and con sented to wear 0110 of her cousin's cos tumes, Dr. Allow would not have re- < egmf.od his little daughter ,as she glided through the brilliantly-lighted rooms on Mr. Le Roy’s arm. Her dress was of silk, the color of tho palest petal , ta0 , musk-rose, with a film of point lace falling in soft folds down to tlio end of the sweeping train. Hor hair was powdered, and a cluster of pale pink buds, just the color of tho dress, nestled in the soft puffs just below the little oar. Charles Le Roy, whose taste in such matters was considered faultless, pro nounced her tho most beautiful of all the beauties lie had seen. He scarcely left her side, and many wero tho signifi cant looks as one and another noticed his attentions. He had hitherto been particular to single no one lady for at tention, but had been courteous to all. “ Now Prince Charley’s caught at last,” was tho comment of his circle. Daisy was In tlio conservatory, resting after a long waltz, and Mr, Le Roy had gone to bring her all ice. Somewhat wearied, she loaned back among the perfumed foliage, which entirely screened her from view, when somo words she overheard made her start ei’oet and listen with a compression of tho sensitive lips. This was what sho hoard: “ I only know that sho is Miss Amy Egbert’s cousin—a Miss Allen. Yes, she is beautiful. I thought, when I first saw hor, a man would deem himself lucky who won tlio lovo of such a woman. Among that frivolous throng sho conducted herself in such a natural, unaflected manner. It mado ono enjoy oneself only to watch her.” A few words wore said sho did not catch, and tlio deep voice went on. “ You seo now, Adele, what a change a few weeks in this kind of life makes. Look at her to-night—ono of society’s most worldly votaries, exerting herself to win a smilo from tho ‘ beau par-ex cellence.’ ” Tho voice stopped, and looking around the orange tree which 'stood be fore her, Daisy saw the tall, dark, stern looking man she had noticed before, and by his side a slight, youthful figure— probably his wife When “ Prince Charley ” returned he for somo time found a* rather distrait partner. But I10 had noticed the costli ness of her attire, and the superb dia monds in her ears and on her neck, and lie lmd mado up his mind hero was a girl whose beauty satisfied him and who must he correspondingly wealthy, so he exerted himself to please, and was soon successful. Amy was highly delighted with Daisy’s success, and being herself engaged, made up her mind her cousin should bo, too, before she returned to her country homo. And who as eligible as Charles Le Roy. So that young man found things play ing right into his hands, and he made the most of his opportunities. Daisy was swept along 111 a dizzy whirl of pleasure. Her imagination was dazzled, ner ambition pleased, and sho thought her heart was touched. She wrote homo frequently, but her letters were cautious. She know in her inmost heart her parents would not ap prove of tlio course she was pursuing. One afternoon—ono of thoso when the snow king smilos with tho greatest approval, an elegant eu ter, with a team of dipped bays, was drawn up in front of the Egbert mansion. Daisy, muffled in a sof. soal mantle lined with liluo, which Amy bnd wrapped around her in tho hall, descended the steps, and was carefully lifted in by “Prince Charley.” Then, with a courteous bow and a gay good-bye to Miss Amy standing in the doorway, away they went. It was tho first snow of the year, and all tlio avenues were alive with innu merable sleighs with their gay occu pants. It seemed to Dnisy like tho carnivals sho had road of, as they glided swiftly nlong. “ Prince Charley ” was used to it all, but not evidently to tlio sweet beauty of tho face beside him, as his ardent looks testified. And before a very great while lie had read in tho frank eyes that his hopes were not in vain, and under tho cover of the robe liad held for an instant the little trembling band. But suddenly Daisy’s eyes dilated with horror, for right before tho fiery bays, endeavoring to run across the road, was a little boy. A scream, and the bays reared high in the air, and then dashed on, held by a firm hand, and urged faster and faster by a firm voice. Looking back, Daisy saw a little dark object in tho road, and beside it, lifting it tenderly, was the gentleman whose harsh criticism upon herself sho had heard. Tho whole occurrence took but a few moments, and they were out of sight. Cowering down in her seat, Daisy lifted ail awe-struck face to her com panion. “ Oh, Mr. Le Roy—Charley—why did you not stop ?” It seemed as if all the blood in his body rushed to his face as he replied : ‘ Daisy, forgive mo, but I dread, as I dread pain to myself, seeing it in others. I will seek out the boy, and do all that money can do, but I couldn't have stopped.” It was a terrible beginning of Daisy’s love romance, but she had to be satis fied with his words. It turned out the boy was not seriously injured—so Mr. Lo Roy told her the next day; and Daisy soon forgot everything else, save that she loved and was loved. It was now time for Daisy to return home, and so sho had postponed telling her parents of her engagement till she should see them; she was anxious to go. Amy had enjoyed .the eclat of intro ducing a new star, and of bringing about the.most conspicuous match of the sea son; and, beside that, sho dearly loved her cousin, so she was sorry to have her go Mr. Mien and his wife were wholly unprepared to find their daughter had grown in three short months to the dig nity of a lover; but they were indulgent parents where the happiness of her they loved better than themselves was con cerned, and did not cheek her enthu siasm as she told them about, him. He was to visit them ia a week, Daisy said, and they waited till then to express an dpinion. Ono day, a week later, a hack drove through the little village to the parson age gate. Charles Lo Roy gave a blank lodk ai'dund as lie alighted and stopped to pay the driver. As he walked slowly tip the garden path tho blank look changed to a contemptuous one, and lie with difficulty smoothed away both ex pressions as he reached tho door. The parsonage was a small, neat house —nothing elegant, indeed; hilt td his eyes, expecting to seo an imposing struc ture, it seemed very plain and insignifi cant. Ho had not known Daisy’s father was a minister, having never cared to ask about hor family; for he had thought and tritly, that oniy immense wealth could procure the magnificent costumes ho daily saw her attired in. Daisy was conscious of a something, sho could not deflno what, in his man ner, as ho greeted her and was presented to her parents, Sho watched him curiously, too, at tho supper-table, wondorinp at his strange manner, and disappointed with ho was making, which the' impression sho saw was not favorable. But she soon knew what was tho troublo. Just before tho meal was finished tho servant brought in a letter to Dr. Allen, which he laid besido liis plato to road at his leisure. As Daisy and Mr. Lo Roy walked from the supper room together, ho turned to her and said: “May I seo you alone, a few minutes, Miss Daisy ?” Daisy looked quickly up, and startod to see 111 his faco tho same expression which it had worn when ho explained to hor why lie had not stooped his flying horses. Sho led him to the library, and tho door had scarcely closed when ho turned and hurriedly said: “Miss Daisy, instead of coming to ask your parents’ consent to our engage ment, I liavo come to give you back your freedom.” Daisy gave a faint cry, and looked into his face with piteous eyes. For an in stant tho selfish nature of the man wavered; but lie wont on : “ I did lovo you—I do 1” hero be drew her to him, which Dnisy passively suf fered him to do, “ but it is only just to tell you, T have lost all my fortune—I am a poor man, and I would not doom one so bright and fair to poverty." “ Oh, Charley," with a glad little laugh, “ is that nil I" Ho saw the situation at a glance, and changed his tactics. Withdrawing his arm lie said, coldly: “ All! it is enough. Poverty is bail enough for one, but for two—” The trembling, piteous-eyed maiden changed to a majestic woman, as Daisy suddenly in a lightning flash read the truth in tho cowardly eyes which evaded hers. Tlio glamour foil from her’eyes ns she confronted him with the gesture of a queen. “ I see it all, Mr. Lo Roy. Nay—let 1110 speak (as lie tried to interrupt her). You saw me with my cousin’s costly dresses and diamonds, and doomed me rich; you needed a fortune to mond your broken ono, and you pretended to lovo me! I see—I see it all !” She drew tho gleaming solitaire from hor finger, and laying it in his hand calmly awaited his next movement. There was nothing for him to do or say, and he immediately took his de parture. If lie felt a momentary shame it soon passed away, ns I10 looked back on tlio little parsonage, and thought how nearly lie had compromised himself. As soon as tlio door closed on him, Daisy wound her way to her n other’s room. What was her surprise on open ing the door to find hor in tears, and her husband vainly trying to comfort her. The mystery was made clear as her father handed her a letter, which was from London, and ran thus : “Rev. Dn. Allen: Deah Sni—I have learned that a person by tho name of Payton, alias Lo Roy, is to be nt your liouso this week. I have just lately*dis covered his whereabouts, and knowing you a minister, will wish to further tlio ends of justice, delayed operation until sure of success. He is the famous forger who so successfully firged the names of five of our wealthy merchants, and dis appeared with the money. 1 myself, with two officers, will visit you Thurs day, and as you are a lover of justice, I charge you to detain him—be he friend or foe.” The name signed was Roger Penten- gall, and Dr. Allen had hoard of him as a celebrated detective. The paper dropped from Daisy’s hand as sho realized what she had escaped, and then and there she confessed nil to her parents, taking to herself tho blame of appearing what sho was not. Of course when tho gentlemen cainc there was no prisoner to capture, Dr. Mien explaining to them that ho had not known of his departure In time to pre vent it. They liad told him how thoy had learned ho was to be there that week. Two detectives, disguised as farmers, with produce to sell, had wormed themselves into tlio favor of Mr. Egbert’s servants (knowing Le Roy was intimate there), who had easily fallen into the trap, and told all they knew from hearing the family conversation. They thought that to arrest him in quiet Deanloigli would avoid ; giving unneces sary pain to liis many friends; and as they were acting under such instructions, had laid their plans in that way. Daisy’s first winter she did "not soon forget. And when the nows came of Mr. Le Roy’s arrest, and the scandal it had caused in society, she shuddered anew at the awful peril she had so gid dily courted,. Amy Egbert came the next summer, full of remorse; but she soon became her own gay self as she saw the bloom on Daisy’s face as bright as’ever. There was an elegant place called Rockmount, a little out of the village, which had stood vacant for years, and it was rumored it had found a purchaser. Extravagant stories were told of his wealth. “Rich as CrcBSus” he was called, and when a check came to’Dr. Mien of one thousand, dollars, “ for the poor of the village,” it made them all the more believed Four uneventful years quietly passed away. In that time Daisy changed more in mind and cimriictei’ than in por- son. When Mr. Uolmar, the owner of Rockmount, called with his sister at the f iarsonago and met tho serious eyes look- tig llitq his, lio know ho had seen the face boioro, alut lit! suddenly remem bered whore and liow. Daisy, too, felt tho same mesmeric influence that bad once attracted her attention, stronger than ever. It was soon ovident how things wore tending, and Daisy’s parents were happy -~ndt alone with their daughter's mak ing a good match in a worldly point of view, but that every new meeting showed them something more noblo and manly in rhilip Delmar’s character. When lie asked Daisy if sho would bo his wife, she tohl him Itbmit, Mr, Le Rov, not sparing licrsolf in the recital, and then with her hands folded ono in tho other, and downcast eyes, waited. “ My darling 1” was all Philip said ; but tlio word was accented as if in that all tho past were wiped away J and Daisy, lifting her lips for tho betrothal kiss, saw tho graveness all gono out of the dark face, and in its stead a vivid light, whoso source she knew. So it was that that first wintol* at city life, which liad worked hor so much sor row, was now remembered with pleas ure, for then it was sho hod first mot tho one who was making her life one long realm of sunshine. A Dog Which Died or Grief. Dr. Martin, a gentleman living on Decatur street, tolls tho “Constitution” a romarkablo story about a bulldog who actually died of a brokon heart. “ You remember,” said tho pleasant doc tor, “ that about two months ago my father-in-law, Mr. W. H. Harvill, who had reached a green old age, died. You may or may not know that lie owned nt tho timo of his death a very flno bull dog—a huge, fat, sleek fellow, who wont by tho name of Ponto. For months and months before his death this dog was his constant companion. There was aomething almost human in tho devo tion of the dog to his master, and, as a nntural consoquence, tbo master was particularly fond of his dog. The daily movements of the old gentleman, for a long time before his last sickness, wore as regular as thoso of a clock, and Ponto followed him as surely as his very shadow. Thoy were simply inseparable. When the old man died Ponto took bis plneo by the coffin and did not budge until it was taken from the room. Then I10 got up and followed it closely to the hearse, and slowly followed tbo hoarse to the grave. Ponto camo back to the house a changed dog. Every night lie lay upon bis rug in tho porch and moaned most piteously all night long. I have never heard any expression of human sorrow that was half so plaintive and touching as tho moaning of that dog, as, night after night, ho writhed upon that mg. Every day found him mak ing the rounds just ns ho used to do be fore tlio old man diod. Ho would walk slowly up tho street, and after n while pass down tho other sido, on his way out to tho plantation. Ho would come back to tbo store, and after lying under that chair a few moments would get up, look into my faco in tho most pleading manner, and then I10 would go up to the liouso, and aftor taking liis place by the sofa in tho hall, suddenly spring up and walk through my father-in-law’s hod- room. He was looking for his dead master. The family lot him have his own way, and I did nil in my power to console him. I tempted him with the choicest moat, but I10 refused to oat. I offered him the warmest milk; I10 would not drink. Ho went about with his head down, the very picture of sorrow. He dwindled away almost to a skeleton, staggering around dnily to tho places visitod by liis master in life and at night giving’ventto his distressful moaning. But this could not last forovor, so one day about live weeks after the old man died, Ponto came dragging his lank and weak body down tlio street—that same street which be had traveled so many bright mornings with his master. When ho got by the fenco there he stopped and sank upon tho ground. I ran to him, and, lifting him in my arms, carried him into the yard. I laid him gently on the ground—I wish now I liad taken him into the house and placed him in tho old man’s room, for (and the kind doctor turned his head, there was a tremor in his tone), for he was dead!”— (Atlanta (Ga.) Constitution. How a Dog Bought Ills Dinner. But if you are looking for downright intellect call on the pointer dog. It is safe to assert that the pointer has mind enough for anything. Ho is far more hu man than tho monkey, and, we cheerfully acknowledge, far worthier of tho rela tionship. Why, look at Jeff—everybody knows Jeff—Dr. Mattanor’s liver-colored pointer. The dog carries notes, goes for the horse and buggy, goes for beef and fetches ice regularly. Bosides all this, Jeff has many accomplishments that make him a finished dog. Would anybody deny Jeff’s intellect ? Hardly. Why, lust week Jeff was sont for ice, and what did he do ? Ho started with a towel, in one corner of which the nickel was tied up. Jeff saw that nickel put in, and immediately temptation assailed him. He could buy ice on credit, and beef was always cash. Now watch tho dog. Ho reasoned. Ho labored under the temptation until I10 reached Huff’s corner, near the old house, and thon he yielded. Down in the dirt he crouched, and after a tussel got the knot untied. What next ? It would never do to carry that nickel into Oorput’s. He reasoned again. Ho buried tlie nickel, earned the towel in, received the ice and came out not for tho nickel. Oh, no; he had studied that out too. The doctor must be loft under tlie impression that the nickel had gone for ice, and ho was. Tho ice was earned to the office, and Jeff came back like a flash, secured bis cash, galloped onward to the beef stand, and in a few moments was observed homeward bound with his dinner. He was not ufraid to carry it home. He reasoned that the doctor would suppose some one had given it to him. This is vouched for by three witnesses.—[Ma con (Ga.) Telegraph. • 1.50 PER ANNUfc NO. 35. roll THE FAIR HEX. Fulilmi Note*. All cuffs are narrow. Trains are greatly shortened. Dresses are not short to exaggeration Wide or deep cuffs are not fashion able. Gloves for full dress nro as long as over. Stripes are very fashionable for child ren. Sarah Bernhardt’s fancies are all the fashion. The driving cloak is to take tho place of tbo ulster. Evon the plainest wool drosses aro trimmed with ciselo or brocaded velvet. THE MERCURY. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY. Satin do Lyons takes tho place of faille. Gros grain silk and faille have gone out of date. Driving cloaks are long, loose ulsters of cheviot. Largo slooves, or elbow sleoves, aro worn in clonks. Sntin bonnets are ornamented to ex cess with beads. Littlo people are again dressed In bright, gay colors. Tho “Pilgrim” is tho form of the polonaise in Paris. Green anti brown are favorite combi nations of color. Plush is tho favorite trimming for jackets and cloaks. High niffs of lace, both black and wliito, will bo wore. Woven fenthor bands will be used for trimming dressy wraps. Fichus of white net will take tho place of those of mull and lacc. Figured and rough-surfaced cloths are preferred for winter cloaks. Silver and gold wovon and spangled tull will bo worn for ball drosses. Bengalino is tlie name of a now silk fabric which closely resomblos Sicilionno. Hint to lilrli. A wood engraver, being asked why be did not employ women, replied: I have employed women very often and I wish I could feel more encouraged. But tho truth is that when a young man comes to mo and begins his work, he feels that it is his life’s business. Ho is to cut liis fortune out of the little blocks before him. Wife, family, home, happiness, and all are to be carved out by liis own hand, and he settles steadily and ear nestly to liis labor, determined to master it, and with every incitement spur ring him on. Ho cannot many until lie knows his trade. It is exactly the other way with the girl. Sho may he as poor as the hoy, and as wholly dependent upon herself for a living, but slio feels that she will probably marry by-and-bye, and tlion she must give up wood engrav ing. So she goes on listlessly; she lias no ambition to excel; she does not feel that all hor happiness depends 011 it. Sho will marry and then her husband’s wages will support her. She may not say so, but she thinks so, and it spoils her work. NOTICE. fy AU ocamunieaUona iataadad tar tMa paper moat be accompanied with the tall name ot the writer, not neeeaaarily tec petal, cation, bnt aa a guarantee of good laith. We are in no way roaponaible lor the view* •r opiaione of oorreipondenta. There is a deal of solid comfort in a bloek of ice. Sorting Heine. A farmer's wile was busy Sorting heane. 'ihe good teemed hardly any, For liio harvest time wm rainy, liad ior beans. Ihe poor ones were so many, She wns vexed and tired by picking Out bad beans. For it took hor many hours, And it tired her patience powers, Till sho wished there wero no showers To spoil beans. Suddenly she stopped, ami thinking Oi the beans Now flnishod, said with smiling: " Wbnt a lool to let the riling Come, the pleasant hours beguiling, For bad beans. " When I come to have another Sorting beans, I v ill save me halt the trouble, And my pleasure will bo double, While 1 burst the IlMcous bubble Ol bad beans. " For iunload ol always looking For bad beans, I will leave them, while with pleasure 1 will gathor out and treasure, Till I All my littlo moasuro With good beans.” There’s a lesson irom this story— Sorting beans. i.iib is lull ot smilos nnd madness, Many grids and sometimes gladness, Muoli of foy and more ol sadness— Like poor beans. And onr work in lile is sorting, As with beans, We onn go through lile and end it, I.onvingtho boat tilings, that lend it Charms, ami only spend it With bad beans. Very dark bottle groon will tako the place of navy blue in popular favor. Tho garments called polonaisos are not much like thoso worn several years ago. Tho most fashionable bonnets are either of plush or heavily trimmed with plush. Heavily'embroidered and jet beaded wraps will bo wore in the mildest win ter weather. All sorts of designs, including littlo pigs, big boars, dogs, cats and ele phants are seen on buttons. The full, plain skirt grows in popu larity in New York, bnt it is not seen among French importations. Chenille, mother of pearl, and span gles aro usod for embroidering the hand somest tullo and ball drosses. Scotch plaids of tho darker tints of blue and green and black are much in demand for waterproofs and traveling wraps. Black, wliito and colored tullo ball dresses aro ombroidorod with tinsel and illuminated with wovon-in threads of gold and silver. "While plttsli and furry beavor lints and bonnets aro tho most in demand, there are also immense numbers of satin, silk, and plnin felt bonnets. Tlie “Pilgrim" polonaise is n long, loose garment with a doop cape and a hood, doop cuffs, and a cord and tassel, or wido belt holding in its fullnoss at the waist. Tlie difference between ciselo velvet and velvet brocade consists in tho first having a satin ground upon which tho velvet pile forms the figures, while in tlio brocade the reverse is tlie case. Exquisite, light, all-wool fabrics, in evening colors, aro brought out for dresses for young girls, tho skirts being of those materials and tho corsages of polka-dotted or small-figured brocaded volvet oi' satin, matching tho color of tlie skirts. Tho laces worn with such toilets aro either Breton or Valenciennes, Italian imitation. But (.hero is a way that’s belter Sorting beans. Choose the good, and when file closes There will bo leu thorns than roses, For the garnered good disposes Of poor beuns. HUMOROUS. A growing industry—Fanning. The letter A ntnkes men mean. How to turn people's heads—Come to a concert late in a pair of squeaking boots. Tho “ New Orlenns Picayune ” thinks that a man, liko a razor, is made keeu by being frequently strapped. Tho season is coming when a man must not only guard carefully liis liberty and every other right vouchsafed him by the Constitution, but ho must keep ono eye on liis woodpile and lien-roost.— [ Middletown Transcript. A beautiful girl ia Molioe. Whoso huir was 11 silvory shoen, Be ught nu nwlul rod hang On her fotohoud to bang, Producing u curious scono. A Now Yorker is named Stealing, and ho hntes tho name; but ho took tho curse off it for liis daughter by making her Christian name “Worth.”—(Boston Post. The man who is asked to guess at a lady’s age and doesn’t guess several years less than I10 believes to be exact, is making an enemy and doing truth no good.—[Free Press. It is very sad to learn Into in life that the hitherto unsuspected primrose is “ a corollifloral dicotyledonous exogen, with a monopotftlus corolla and a cen tral placenta.” Professor Huxley is re sponsible for unearthing this scandalous fact. The name of the last-discovered planet is an inch longer than the planet. “Well, wife, you can’t say I ever con tracted liad habits.” “ No, you gen erally expanded them.” The Science of Cookery. Ruskin thus discourses on cookery : What does “ cookery ” mean ? It means tho knowlege of Media, and of Circe, and of Calypso, and of Helen, and of Rebekah, and of the queen of Sheba. It means knowledge of all herbs and fruits, and balms and spices ; and of all that is healing and sweet in fields and groves, and savory in meal; it means carefulness and inventiveness, watchfulness, willingness and readiness ol appliances ; it means the economy of your great-grandmothers, and the science of modern cliemisty; it means much tasting and no wasting ; it means English thoroughness, and French art, and Arabian hospitality; it means, in fine, that you are to life perfectly and always “ ladies,” “ loaf-givers;” and, as you are to see, imperatively, that every body has something pretty to put on— so that you are to soe, yet more im peratively, that everybody has something nice to eat. A Frightful llnlloon Accident. A frightful balloon accident occurred recently at Courbevoie, near Paris. A large crowd had assembled to witness tho novel and perilous ascent of a gym nast called Auguste Navarre, who hud volunteered to perform a number of athletic feats on a trapeze suspended from a Montgolfiere balloon named the Vidouvillaise. Rejecting the advice of bystanders, Navarre refused to allow himself to bo tied to the trapeze. There was no car attached to the balloon. At about five o’clock the Vidouvillaise was let loose from its moorings and rose majestically in the air. Navarre, hang ing on to the trapeze, appeared quite confident and repeatedly saluted the spectators. When, however, the balloon bad readied a height of nearly 1,000 yards, the crowd was horrified to see him suddenly let go the bar and fall. The descent was watched in breathless excitement. At last the body reached the ground, striking with such force that it made a hole in the earth two feet deep, and rebounded four yards. It was crushed and mangled almost be yond recognition. Meanwhile the bal loon, freed from its human ballast, shot up with lightning speed, and soon dis appeared from sight. Late in the even ing it burst and fell at Menilmontant, mueli to the consternation of the inhabi tants of that busy Parisian quarter. Signs of the Times. “ No,” said the vagrant, with a sigh, “ times are getting better, they’re not what they used to be. A man’s offered more work titan wittals.” “ Haven’t you signs amongst you so that you know where to go, and how you will be treated and all that sort of thing ?” “Well, we each have signs of our own. If I see a big, powerful bulldog hanging around the front door, I take that as a sign meaning ‘ move on.’ If there are a few stout men in tho next field to the house, that means 1 too much gristle and too little meat.’ If a large pile of cordwood stands by a house with a bucksaw reclining against it, that’s a sign for ‘ saw3-edge.’ Oh, yes, we have lots of signs—good reliable signs, too.” ("Qjtroit Free PreBS.