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WT ‘V>-. *4
rjjlE 3IKRCURY.
«^nm1-olftS0 matter at the San.
^VeTo^AprUa;, 1880.
der*TlUe, c * unty * Ga *
rtiBUsnai) bt
& SCARBOROUGH.
JEBNIGAN
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.ft.80 per Tear.
THE MERCURY.
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DEVOTED TO LITER ATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE.
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YOL. I.
SANDERSYILLE, GA., FEBRUARY 8, 1881,
NO. 45.
NOTICE.
' All communiontiona intended lor this
paper most be aooompanicd with the lull
name ol the writer, not necessarily I or pnhU*
cation, bat m a gnaurante# of good laith.
We era in no way responsible lor the Tiewr
tr opinions ai eorrespondenu.
Music,
Music.
GOTO
JERNIGAN
FOB
yiOLINS,
accordeons,
BOWS,
STRINGS,
ROSIN boxes, etc.
Machine Needles,
OIL anfl SHUTTLES
ror all binds ol Machines, lor_sale,
t will
nUoovilor narti ol Machines that get
broke, and now pieces
ere wauled.
A. J. JERNICAN.
G.
W. H. WHITAKER,
dentist,
SanderiviUo, Ga.
Terms Ca'II.
Offlcnit hi. loaidouoc on Harris Street.
A pul SJSSlb
B. D. EVANS,
Attorney at Law,
April J, 1830.
Sanders rills, On.
DR. WM. RAWLINGS,
Physician & Surgeon
> Bandnrsville, Ga.
Office at flantJorsviUe Hotel.
April 10, 1880. ■ .
E. A. SULLIVAN,
NOTARY PUBLIC,
Sandenrrdie, Ga.
given to oolleotion
Special attention
ohimn.
Offloe In the Court-House.
0. H. ROGERS,
Attorney at Law,
Banderaville, Ga.
Prompt attention given to all business.
Offleo in northwest room ol Court-Ilouse.
Mu, ♦, 1880.
C. C. BROWN,
Attorney at Law
SandersTlUe, Ga.
Will practloe in the State and United State*
Court*.
Offloe in Conrt-IIoase.
H. N. HULLIFIELD,
Physician & Surgeon
Stmdersville, Ga.
Oslo* next door to Mrs. Bayne’s milliner,
ilore on linn is Street.
DR. J. B. ROBERTS,
Physician 8s Surgeon
Saadersriils, Ga.
Ma, b* consulted at his oflloe on Haynea
•treet, m the ALisonio I-oi'ge building, from 9
' “ 10 1 P m, and Irom 3 to ipm; during
lieu houu at his roaidence, on Ciiureh street,
wnen not ptnliissiouiUly engaged.
April 3 1880.
Watches, Clocks
Lore In All.
Name the leaves on all the trees;
Namo tho waves on nil the sens,
All tho flowers by rill that blow,
All the myriad tints that glow,
Wlr.da that wander through the grovo—
And you name tho name ol love;
Love there !b in Bummer sky,
As in light ol maiden’s eye.
Listen to tho oountless sounds
In tho wind that gaily bounds
O'er the meads where, on the wind,
Bright bees lium and linnets Bing;
Pat ol raindrop, chat ol stream,
Ol their song sweet love’s the thomo;
l/ove thero is wlioro sophyr skips,
A» in breath ol maiden’s lips.
In tho \\oat mild ovcnlng glows)
Angel Augers fold the rose;
Silvery dews begin to loll (
Crimson shades toshndow all;
Holy nature veils her lace;
Earth is lost in heaven’s embrace—
Love is In an hour like this,
Aa in guileless maiden’s kiss.
Go where, through tlio voiceless night,
Trips lair Luna’s silver light;
Hi nr ol nnturo’s pulso that boat,
Liko the thread ol unaeon feet;
See Iiom out the lambent north
Shimmering arrows shooting lorth;
Love is in a meteor’a start,
Aa in throb ol maiden's heart,
Lovo’s the essonco ol all things;
’Tis Irom love that beauty springs;
’Twits by lovo, oreatinn that
Into glorious being burst;
Veiled m maiden’s lorin so luir,
I do worship thee in her.
•Spitit sweet—all clso above—
Love is God, bince God is love.
--Chamber*' Journal.
other he was ridiculed, his'reuse of
humor was so dull that he could never
comprehend the joke. All this com
bined to make hlui undergo torture
when in my friends’ society, and I verily
believe he fled to me (quite, sedate and
harmless as I was) as a refuge from
their sallies. Whether that were so or
no I know tot, but by degrees I became
quite used to his society, and from tol
erating 1 got to like it and to miss him
when he did not come; and when the
jokes raged, I iuvariably took his part.
Valentine’s day drew near, and of
course Kate Coventry was full of
business. There were valentine) of all
kinds to bo dispatched and expected
in return. Numerous “hoaxes” de
signed for particular friends, and the
plots and schemes as to places of post
age and disguise of hand wilting, were
truly wonderful.
“ What lun it would be to send a val
entine to Mr. Bargilll” exclaimed
Charley. “What would ho do with UP
I’ut it into tho lire, I expect, and never
let any one hear of it. He would feel it
an insult.”
MY VALENTINE.
AND JEWELHY
XXVAIMED n
JERNIGAN.
POSTOFFICE HOURS.
7:00 to 11:30 a. m.
1:30 to 6:00 p. m.
B. A.' Sullivan, P. M.
Subscribe for the MERCURY,
Only 81.60 per annum.
PUBLISHED BY
.JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH.
Valentine’s day, and I am Bitting in the
bay-window ol my front, room in the
little semi-detached house which is now
my home The little maid has laid the
breakfast thingB, but it is early, and 1
sit on the horsehair sofa in the window,
looking out for the postman.
Not that bis coming this morning has
any romantic interest for me. Those
days ol romance are past and gone.
I am now arrived at the sober age of
hivty-tive, Hnd it is time to have done
with such folly. And jot, as I sit here,
and Die postman delays his coming, my
mind wanders back to other Valentine's
lays long ago. when it was a matter o!
such deep interest lo me.
One fourteenth of February in pnrticu-
ar I remember, ten—let me see, sixteen
.ears ago it was. How the yems d> I
rnd how short time it scorns 1 These
ew bright years of a woman’s lile seem
o go by manic, and when they are gone
vtiat re niainsP Alwajs atone time or
.tiler an netting sense that they are
rone, and somitiiu.s, alas! tho knowl-
dge that she is doomed to loneliness
ur the years to come I felt that at.
no time myself, but I am used to it
now.
At thirty-five -these romnntlo regrets
• hould lie done with. And especially
vlten one livis the life of a daily gover
ns (as I have done for some years
asi), the realties of life press too con-
• tnnily nnd too unplsentiy on one’s
nind to leave room for day dreams.
But on the fourteenth of February
just referred to my governess life had
iot yet begun. 1 had then as fair s
utuie before me ns most young girls ol
toy acquaintance, with fqunl chances of
m advantageous nnd happy marriage,
and a life of independence. At that
time I was on a visit to seme old
friends, the Coventrys.
The family consisted of father, moth
er and two daughters—fine, hearty,
good-looking girls, tall, strong and high-
sririted. In that respect r tlieracon
trast. lo myself, for I was small, quiet-
mannered, nnd (as I was painfully con
scious) rather plain in appearance. They
«aw plenty of company, for their father.
’Squire Coventry as he was called, kept
a most hospitable house: and, especially
during tbe winter, the house was con
tinually filled with young people and
amusement of all kinds was the order of
the day. T . ,
In most of these amusements I took a
part, nnd though 1 had neither health
nor animal spirits equal to my young
friends, their kindness and heartiness
made everything pleasant. They had a
most especial fondness for practical
joking (I mean a harmless kind), par
ticularly tho younger onb, Kate, who
was ably assisted in this line by her
cousin, Charles Braintree, who con
stantly formed one of the party.
Kate and Charley were in every kind
of escapade—companions in mirth, anu
frequently companions in misfortune,
when the evil effects of their joking
came home to their own door.
While I was at the Coventrys we at
tended a village church close by. where,
the rector being absent, there officiated
at the time a curate who had lately
come to the place. He was a t a 1, slight
man, rather good-looking; but he had a
painfully-stilted, self-cmisoious manner.
‘Mr. Bargili 1”exclnimed Kate,sud
denly boking up from her work of di
recting and ofampingcnvclopcs. “Why,
of course, ho shall have one, How
stupid of me to forget! It’s important,
though. I must take time to think ol
it. Of course wc know who the sender
w 11 be!”
She glanced at me ns she said this.
“Kate, please do not,” I said, im
ploringly, blushing Up to the roots of
my hair, for 1 knew that I was doomed
“ Do not what P” replied Kate. “Oh!
hy-the-bye, Ethel, you re sure to receive
some this year—one at least.”
“ Yes,” broke in Charley. “ Directed
in a very stifl'. upright hand. Now, who
would think that such a very modest,
retiring person would write such a very
decided hand P You know who I mean,
Miss Vane P”
So tho remarks flew round, and 1
knew that remonstrance wns vain, and
that Mr. Bargili and myself were to be
two ol the victims on Valentine’s day.
Not only that, but I greatly feaicd that
they intended sending either a valen
tine to me in his name, or, far worse,
one from me to him.
For some reason this latter idea was
torture tt> me. Ol course what I re
am!, strange coincidence 1 one of them
is in the hand writing of my old friend,
Constance Coventry.
Constance Raintree she is now; she
married Charley two years after my last
visit. And bright, merry Kate is dead I
My second letter, being evidently a
business one, claims my first attention
tt is from the mother of my eldest pupil.
She is going abroad, and wishes my
charge to accompany her My three
other pupils are at present in scarlet
fever My hands will bo empty I What
shall I doP Look for temporary em
ployment? I should liketo take a holi
day, but know of nowhere to go just
now.
Now for Constanoe t
“We have just come homo from
abroad,” she writes, “ and are settling
in our new home, though it is a
wretched time of year. I do want you
so muoh to come and see me. Perhaps
my reasons ate partly selfish, for he
will not see company yet, and I am
dreadfully dull and lonely, hut I know
that will be no r rawbaok to you.”
Sl e tlien goes on to say a good deal
that is kind, and adds in a postscriptt
“ I said wo were nlohe, but I forgot tc
mention that an old friend, or rather ac
quaintance, 1b with us whom I dare sav
you will remember in by-gone days—
Mr. Uargillt Wo came upon him at
Basle, when Charley was dangerously
ill, nnd his kindness I shall never for
get, I nm so Borry that I ever laughed
at or teased him, dear Ethel; he saved
my husband's llfel D >come."
That is all. And what a strange sup
plement to my meditations of the past
hour. How the old familiar names re
call the old days. I am at Barfield
ngain, young ami knppy as of old I Con
stance’s invitation is a tempting one. I
should like to see her again ih her new
home; and Mr. Bargili P I smile as 1
remember the valentines, and 1 think
on the whole I should like to sec him
again, tool It is decided. I will go
and sit down and writ 0 to that effect.
Three days later, at five o’clock on a
cold winter's evening, I nm driven up
tho avenue at Braintree, trying hard,
through the dusk and the drilling sleet,
to eatoh a glimpse of my friend's new
home. A double row of stately lime
trees on each side of the drive is all that
I can see, and as we draw nearer Iper-
ceiveafineold F/izabe imn house nearly
I remembered noW hoW stfongly they
had denied it; nnd, ns 1 tin ught of Us
eontents, I reflected, what if it really
had come from him P— had lain all these
years unheeded and unnoticed P and
now!
My cheeks l urnt crimson as I turned
my uead away, and my contusion must
have been evident to him.
Katie had flown away to exhibit her
treasures in another part of the room
I heard a low voice beside me:
“Miss Vane—Ethel, will you answer
it nowP”
I did answer it, and in a way that I
have never since regretted.
When my friend Coustanoe eame to
visit me in my bedroom that night, I
had a secret to confide to her, and was
kissed and congratulated to my heart’s
cont* nt.
“But oht Constance,” I exclaimed,
when she allowed me a pause, “how
could you not teil me that chat second
valentine oame from him, or that it did
not come from you? How oould you
let me believe otherwise I”
“ My precious child, did I not tell
you.” she answered, laughing, “ a hun
dred times overP-and why wore you so
obstinately peisuaded to the contrary P
Why, the signature should have been
enough! But never nuind, ‘all’s well
that ends well,’ and this is just the Very
thing I should have wished.”
“Yes,” I said, soft'y, “I believe it is
well; a d though I shall only be a poor
curate’s wife, I shall be the happiest
e.eived myself was a matter of little
consequence. I should know wl'orn to | y „f , d i, creepers^^lt has
if. win nn ;„ b nnuI | been the homo of ths Braintrees for
lorlu .ale name in playing their jokes
upon him.
So timo woie on, and I comforted
myself by thinking that Mr. Bargili,
come what might, would believe that I
tiad sent him a valentine, more espe
cially such a one as I hared they would
send him.
It will be as Charley said,” I
thought. “ He will most likely put it
the fire, and no one wiUAea whit tho
to Charley from an uncle.
A bright light streamed forth when
the door was oncbcd, nnd Constance
stood in tho hall ready to receive me
with open arms. In a second I was in
a cozy little room will) a bright fire,
where lav her husband, looking not
much older, but pale and delicate from
his recent illness.
Constance led mo to my room, and on
leaving me, said •
We have just a tew friends cominu
“ A poor ourate’s wife,” broke In Con
stanoe. “Why, don’t you know that
Charley has given Mr. Bargili the rich
living of Braintree, two miles from
here, nnd I shall have you near me
aiways P Oh! it is delightful. Bo you
thought you were marrying a ‘poor
curate,’ did you P"
The lovely rectory of Braintree has
long been my home, and the “shy
curate” the bast and most devoted ot
husbands. Little does the titlo apply
to him n-wl Beloved and respected by
his parishioners, nnd known far beyond
„is own little eirole for conspicuous
talents, my home is all and more than 1
coujd wish; and as the fourteenth of
February again approaches, recalling
ttie happiest event of my life, with wh it
different feelings do 1 greet it from
when, ten years ago, I sat in my lonely
lodgings, thinking sadly of “ my Valen
tine’s days ” of the past.
FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
Atsd tlnn I caught myself wondering to-mgbt, dear; you won t tuindP III
whether it would make him shy of our scud you my maid, an.l without walt-
ompany, and whether he would cease iotc for an answer, she was gone,
the walks from church, etc. And 1 I did “ mind,” but there was no help
must allow that ho idea vexed me. lor it. Constance was always fond of
How very tiresome they are!” I said s afiety. I dressed my sal as well as mv
to mjsolf. “ And what bad tnsto it is limited wardrobe would allow, and she
toplay these j"kc8 on people,” forgetting presently returned and escorted me to
(or tho moment how often I had my- | the drawing room, wht re about fourteen
self been a party to jokes of the kind.
At last Valentine’s morning came.
There was much excitement round the
bretrklast table when the post-bag, lull
to bursting, was banded in.
I waited patiently lor my share of its
eoments. They were three. First, r
letter from homo in n>y mother’s writ
ng; sfcondly, a large document, di
t ooted in the stiff, upright hand I had
been led to expect; thirdly, a letter di-
ioeled in a handwriting perfectly un
Known to mo. I openod iLo
a entioned first.
"Now, Ethel, let us heari” assailed
me on every side.
“That’s the writing! I knew it would
come!" shouted Charley.
“Tuank you, I am much obliged to
vou all!" 1 replied. “It is admirably
written; but this one is much better
persons were assembled; but among
them all n >t one face was familiar to mi
save that of my host.
I quietly t nsconced myself in a win
dow recess, whore I was partly hidden
by a curtain. My eys wandered for a
moment rather anxiously over the group
in a vain hope that I might disoovet
Mr. Bargili, but in vain. No one wat
known to mo thero.
Dinner was announced. Tho party
paired off. As I sat wondo.ing who my
second-1 partner was to be, Constance touched
the arm ot a portlv-looking man who sav
with itis back tome, engaged in earnest
conversation. Hq,rose at onco, and she
led him up tome.
“ An old friend, Ethel. Mr. Bargili,
you remember Miss VaneP"
Was it possible P Was tho fine-look
ing man before me the “ shy curate ” o
done”—as 1 spoke I held up the third- former days? No need to ask if he
mentioned, writtoa in the unknown
hand. “ That large one is too elaborate
Mr. Bargili, 1 am sure, would never
tood Buoh a flowery composition as
that. Now, this is sober, and to the
point."
remembered me. lie gave a start, and
colored visibly, when she uttered my
name, and then I saw plninly tberesem
blance which I had failed to detect at
first. He recognized nqe at once, too
I saw that, and it was no small pleasure
buy your
Spectacles, Spectacles,
FROM
JtRNICAN.
^Nono genuino without our Trade Mark.
On hand and for sale,
which quite did away with the P r °P°®
sewing effect of bis appearance. I at
first attributed
when I knew him better, to shyness.
He seldom came to the house, although
,he Coventrys quickly “
quaintance, Pressed ‘vim to do so,
but invitations of all kinds he retusea.
During my stay, however, he gradual-
ly acquired the habit ol walking home
iL? nL™ ehnroh. our road lying
I had just read it, rnd was surprised to think that time’s ravages had not
to find only a short, simple, earnest altered me in his eyes, at least beyond
offer ot marriage—not much like a recognition.
valentine, except that the writer slight- I went into ti o dining-room on his
ly referred to the character of the day arm, and after the first few Ecntoices
rs a kind of apology for addressing me. our conversation l ever flagged. I then
It was signed only “ J. B.” discovered h >w in mind as well as in
“1 see” I said. “You thought by body he had developed and improve t;
sending me two that I should certainly or rati er, .haviog gained in assurance
becaught by one of them. Tbis last and manliness, those qualities winch I
one is certainly the best. Borne of your imagited he always had possessed w ore
work I suspect, Connie. It is not in suffered to como to the surface, while
Katie’s stylo " that stillness of manner which w o had
Constanco protested her innocence; called conceit, and which I now felt sure
but in vain. Indeed, a general chorus had proiojded from shyness, had van-
disclaimer was raised round the table; ished altogether.
but I simply ignored it, put tbe two When I returned to the drawing
valentines in my pocket, and began to room, I no longer felt myfc.f alone in
read mv mother’s letter. This wa3 of the company, [talked lnciiderently to
another kind. My father was seriously my next neighbor, hardly conscious
ill Mv mother wanted me home who or what she might be, nn eye
directlv • and the next day found me on meanwhile watching the door with
mv homeward journey, depressed at the anxiety, until at last the hum ol voices
thought ot my lather’s illness, and full outside told that the gentlemen were
of regrets at leaving my friends. coming. ....
Then began a season of calamity and There was a vacant seat beside me.
trial My father died, after a fortnight’s Would ho Take itP Yes, he was evi-
illness leaving myself, a brother and dently coming toward mo. My heart
sister almost unprovided for. I throbbed loudly when down upon the
The following year my sister, who chair I had guarded sat a fat old coun-
l.nd been engaged for some time, was try ’squire who began to make himself
mairied My mother died soon after- agreeable to my next neighbor.
ward and I was left alone—almost ab- “ *"•
solutely alone, my brother having gone
abroad to seek his fortune, and 1 chose
Wigwam and His Gate.
Mr. Wig warn is a farmer, and recently
ono of those agents that infest the coun
try came along nnd lucked off upon him
an automatic gate. The gale was so
arranged that the weight of a person
approaching it would cause it to rise,
and when they had passed under it,
down it would come. This gate was
painted red, and the day after it was
put in position, a cross bull, owned by
Mr. Wigwam, discovered it. A bull
somehow lias a rooted antipathy for
that iiue, and this animal no sooner dis
covered the gate than it made a rush to
gore it. Ot course, as tho bull ap
proached the gate, his weight causod it
to rise, nnd he passed under it, and his
failure to hit anything solid, seemed to
affect him about as it does a man to go
up a dark stnirway, and when he had
reached the top, think there is onoBtair
more, > ndstep for it, and bring his foot
down so hard that it makes the sole
tingle as it slapped by a shingle, and
leaves tuo print of the boot on tue floor.
When the bull recovered a little and
looked back and saw tho gate, whtch
bad come down, in its original potdtion.
lie couldn’t quite understand now he got
cast it, and wliat had happened, and ue
stood and thrashed himself with his tail,
and thought of it for A minute, and then
tried it again. Same resuit. Bull more
puzzled tban ever and awful mad. An-
other trial. Bull only succeeds in ro ting
Ins nose into the erou d. Bull almost
delirious with rage. Wigwam, who Is
watching him from the home, in same
condition witli laughter. Thb bull
evidently made up his mind to hit that
gate or die in the attempt, and he tiicd
tbe thing seven more times, and yet the
gate stood there, every time, when lie
looked back. Then Having wrenched
Himself and scrape t the hide off ,bis
nose, and got quite out of breath, the
animal became discouraged and drew
aside and merely watched the gate.
But Wigwam hadn’t had enough of
the fun. He took a mirror, nnd went
vUt and climbed upon the gate and
caugbt the sunlight on the mirror, and
flashed it in tbe bull’s eyes to madden
him. It did. The bull rushed once
more at the gate. Wigwam expected
tho gate to rise up with him and let the
bull pass. But his weight held it down.
The bull hit the gate square, Wigwam
was knocked forty feet, and got his eyes
and mouth full ol dirt, and was badly
skun. The mirror was shattered. And
the bull caught both horns aud ono foot
in the gate, which broke from its fasten
ings, and he went madly careering
about with it, struggling to release him
self, and Wigwam didn’t dare go to his
eseue, and was too muoh hurt to do
anything, anyway, and finally the bull,
alter tearing up everything in reach,
threw himself and broke bis neck.
Loss, $300.
Wigwam lays all the blame on the
gate agent, which, perhaps, is natural.
—Boston Pott.
with us from elnirob, J>« ho would
nartlv in the same direction; bo woum
part with us at the park-gates, with the
s P tifldst offiows/relusm/aB^Wjgs
to enter, and proceed to his lodgings
ln Bj dSS'hi. visits to tbe home be-
IxSTVJm TcouW
change was attributed *•? f t during
not help becoming conscious t hat durmg
vtrJzissFtSi SS- &*
i*??*’ Rolisncd Slpol DRILL POINTS.
lautifulljr, and instead of crowding
. - ;•••-—•» «'•<«• rows, scatter It 3){, 1 —* * * *
#tlln Alng wider apart, have
scatter It 3W, t, and b ins.;
‘tr apart, have more ROOM
nourishment from the soil,
duce better developed
^Yo STOOL, aTrl!
bccomqmore TlBorous.prod ,
tverage heafli, Bend for Illustrated Pamphlet
*. lT . — * "^Testimoniaie. J.A.JONE3.WILMINGTON,DEL
re , a1 ly hei|pvp I ?Ln hr0 i , ’* lcr To,n ’ a Wheat, about a week afco, and I
Mih vn7.. n°, ,h crc h ono third tnoro wlionf u
third more wheat where It was drilled
he had im’&Nured some rows, and
lime length ofrdw uRalnxt/or/jf*
tk '° of life nhi^ bca,ls t,lc
"jOiiliUA CLAYTON, Jb., Mt. Pleasaat, Doi*
eraliy at loy Bi |. tprod remarks
from the sly lootaand mu toredwmw^
I felt
mortified and disappointsd, and soon
afterward took nn opportunity of retir
ing to my old seat in the window.
I- had not sat there many minutes
when the curtain was drawn aside, and
Mr. Bargili placing a chair for himself
in my recis), sat down beside me.
Mr. Bargili,” cried out Constance’s
nf which 1 was the subject. —
ot Wbicu wm> ege OCC asions was of the
versation on t
primmest andmostdemure.^Sometime8^
utc^ r a feeble request to can y my P rase ^*
on the weather, and so on,j an . Q " vert he-
loving friends to iound J p
rather to seek an independence for my
self than to accept kindness from sister,
who was not in affluent circumstances
Thus began my governess life, which
T am thankful to say, has been such a 1 “Mr. Bargili." cried out uonstance;s
Hiiecissthat 1 am row able to live in little girl, running up to us, "just look
f.,imfnrt and to put by a mite forarainy at my valentine! Isn t it a beautyP I
dn7 I have not soent much in travel- have had such a lot, but this is the pret-
inv though my kind friends, the Cov- tiest of them all, and I cannot find out
entry’s, sent me many invitations. Per- who sent it. Do you kno w P I be ieve
ban slum a little proud, for I think I it was you. Now, wasn’t itP Tell the
could not mix in their society with just truth.”
the same pleasure as in former days. “ No, Carrie it was not I
However they are unchanged to me.and “1 believe it was, i hough,” she per
uiwnvs will be. I feel sure. sisted. “ I’m sure it wad"
The clock had just struck nine. What “No, Carrie, indeed,” ho answered,
n lime I have sat here ruminating on while a grave smii? hovered round his
„ time! aud the postman is not come mouth, “ I never sent but one valentine
vet 1 Valentine’s day- that is the reason in all my life, and that—
of the delay, no douot. “ Well, and thatP”
Here he comes around the corner, but “ That one was never answered.”
what a time he stops at each door l The He looked at me, though he was
five little dwellings to be visited before speaking to her, and instantly I rem-m-
hP vets here will take, I should think, bored my two valentines oi long ago,
Another quarter of an hour, at this rate that one in particular which was Lever
of coing Well! you will not be detained accounted for, and which I had troubled
long here, my man. Sarah shall bring myself so little about . In my own
the breakfast mind I had never doubted that it had
Another ten minutes5 he is here! | been sent me by mischievous young
singular Discovery of a Diamond.
Mr. Jaddus Gogaien, 01 Kent county,
and Mr. Michael W Coughlin, ol New
castle, N. B., have gone to England,
principally to dispose of a diamond, or
a supposed diamond, which was found
by Mr. Coughlin among the stones at
the ballast wbarf, Newcastle. The sup
position is hat it was broughtrout Irom
the East indies in ballast. The prize is
oval shaped, weighs thirty-live carats,
has appai ently very little outer crust,
and is colorless and not distinguishable
from water. It is transparent, and if it
is a diamond of good quality, is very
valuable. It is s«id they were offered
$510 for the article in the North, but
n f-iscd. Tbe arrangement by which
Mr Goaaien became half owner in this
gem is to the effect that he pays the ex
penses of the trip to England, by wllich
it is expected to effect a sale. Mr.
Gogaitn also takes about 100 pearls,
gattm ed in the North from oysters and
black clams, the latter, v hen found in
waters used for steam driving, often
containing pearls which find a ready
sale at a high price. A few of these are
quite large, un i should be worth con
siderable .— Monrt in (N. B.) Times.
hand, friends.
The Pi| Pasture.
We always have the best success with
breeding sows when they are allowed to
feed on grass. This is the only food they
require until tho young pigs are a week
or two old, when milk or meal of some
sort may bo gl en to them to increase
the flow of milk li they require It. Bows
thus managed are never uglv and never
destroy their pig?. Why? Because they
are in a natural and health7 condition.
Tho grass Also increases the flow of
milk and is, cjult.ii often, sufficient food
for a sow wliile-rearing her young.
Young pigs soon learn to eat the grass,
which is alike natural and healthful for
tiicm. We never have a caso of soours
or thumps among young pigs when run
ning in pasture. The gnss serves to,
counteract tho 1 fleet of corn, nnd many
pigs on grass can be fed heavily with
tills food without the injury which it
would do them if confined and
deprived oi grass Our experience has
convinced us that no farm is complcto
without a pig pa turo. CloVer is the
best of all thu grosses for this purpose,
and next to it we prefer orchard grass
for tho reason that it starts up promptly
after being eaten off.is the earliest in the
spring ana is relished by tiie pigs. It is
not necessary to have a speola' field for
the pig pasture, but they may be al
lowed lorun in any lot ft properly in
closed. There should be water in tho
Held and plinty of grass. A patch of
sweet corn sowed in drills will be found
convenient to supplement a short pas
ture in the late summer. Thero should
also be another patch of turnips or
other r* ots into whioh tho pigs mny
be turned for fall breeding With tho
three Auxiliaries of pasture, sweet corn
stalks and a root patch, tho cost of roar
ing and feeding pigs may b-i reduced to
less than one-half ot their oxpenau whan
tt:ey arc confined and fed in pens, to
say nothing about their better condition
for food.—Rural New Yorker.
llapld ClturnlnB Undeilrabl*.
As a vule the best butter Jb produced
by using a moderate motion (n churn
ing. The operation at tho comraenoo-
ment should always bo slow, in order
that the cream shall be well mixed to-
? ;et|ier f After this the motion mny bo
aster, but its rate of speed should bo
made uniform and ndapted to the con
struction of tho churn. Tho objection
to very fa t churning is that the larger
butter globules come first and are gather
ed Into lumps before the smaller ones are
churned; hence a lo«s in quantity if tho
churning is stopped at this point, and if
continued under a very rapid motion th"
butter globules that oome Hist are liable
to be injured. We havo never seen any
of the so-called “ three-minute churns ”
that uniformly made good butter by
churning in this short time. Ol course
there is a difference in .oreams; tha
from tho milk of Jorsoy cows will ordi
narily churn more quickly than cream
from the milk ol common cows. But
uncor nn» clroumstamos very rapid
motion loads to do injury to tho cream,
nnd especially is this the case when the
butter toglns to como. In churning, the
object sought should be to have all the
cream churned alike nnd in about the
sau.e time, and when the butter appeals
in a granular form the churning should
cense. Ol course we shall not pretend
to say that inventions and processes for
ohnrning very quickly cannot be broug t
out, and which will make uniformly a
first-class butter; we can only say if
there be such a chun —ono that is mado
to do its work, for instance, in three
minutes, and can in that time produce
the best butter—wo havo not yet seen it.
- Dairyman.
The Difference.
From actual experiments made it is
demonstrated beyond a doubt that the
grinding of grain adds one-third to its
value for feeding purposes. This is 11
matter of a good deal of importance to
the agricultural community, and, in
fact, to all classes who have animals lo
food. As far as dollars aro concerned,
perhaps it is not of so much moment in
tho Northwest, where grain is so cheap
and so pUnty, ns it is in other portions
of tho country, where les3 grain is
raised, but it is worthy of the consider-
ation of those who havo not full bins of
oats and corn. Since the introduction
of cheap feel-mills, it is tbe province ol
every farmer to own one. with which
all grain intended for the stock on lh<
farm could be ground.
Heclpcs.
Good White Bread.—Ila.f a pint of
nice light bread sponge, one lieaping
tablespoonful of sugar, stir in graham
flour enough to make a stiff batter; let
i: rise, then stir it down and put it into
1 he baking tins, let it rise again, then
bake a iiitle longer than white broad.
Use good yeast but no soda in this
bread.
Cheap. Good Sponge Cake.—Whisk
together four eggs, a large cupful of
powdered suzar, add lemons to taste;
also three tablespoonfuls of water, half
a large cupful or flo r, with two tea
spoonfuls of baking powder in it.
Thoroughly but lightly mix, adding
more water if required. Bake this in
buttered tins or fancy molds.
Barley Soup —Boil one pint of pearl
barley in one quart oi stock till it is re
duced to a pulp, pass it through a sieve
anc. t.dd as inucu more stock as will be
required to make of the consistency of
cream; put the soup on the fire; when
it boiis stir into it, off tho fire, the yolk
of an egg beaten up with a gill of iresh
butter, and serve with small dice oi
bread fried in butter.
Irish Fotatj Fie.—One pound
mashed potatoes rubbed through a
colander; one half pound butter,
creamed with sugar; six eggs, white
and yolks separately; one lemon,
squeezed into the potatoes while hot;
one cupful of milk one teaspoonful oi
nutmeg, and the same of mace; two
cupslul white sugar; bake iu open
shells of paste; to be eaten cold.— Com
mon Sense in the Household — M tr ion.
Before the Day-Break.
Before the day-break shines a (tar
That in the day’s great glory ta les;
Too fiercely bright Is tho tall light
That her nale-gleanjng lamp upiirafds.
Before tbe day-break sings a bird
That stills her song ere morning light)
Too loud lor her is the dny's stir,
The woodland's thomond-tongned delight.
Ah I great the honor is lo shine
A light wherein no traveler errs;
And rich the prize to rank divine
Among the world’s loud choristers.
Bnt I wonld be that paler star,
And I would be that lonelier bird)]
To shine with hope, wldlo hope’s alar,
And sing ol love, when love’s nnheard.
— The Spectator.
HUMOROUS.
The feelings ol a pig aro* always pent
Firemen, as well as other people, like
to talk of their old flames.
Ono who knows says that a soft porn
is tho hardest kind of a 0 >rn.
A game of baseball is like a bnokwheat
cake—a great deal depends on the
batter.
Tho motion of a woman’s jaws in
chewing four caramels at onco. gives n
very poor idea of the poetry of mdtion.,
A man who is as tiue as steel, pos
sessing an iron will, tome gold and a
lair proportion of brafs (/ sliould be able
tj endure the hardware of tins world.
The weight of the circulating blood
in amnn s about twenty pounds. But
ono pound will oltnn cause it to circu
late—if the pound is given on tho nose.
I know how nmnr days there are in
a vear-three hundred and s xty-five
nncl a fourth.” Parent—“Is that soP
Whore does the fourth ccmo in P”
Pupil—“Fourth of July.”
A prudent man had his portrait
painted recently. His Irlends complained
lo him that it was much too old. “Thnt’e
what I ordered ” said he. “It will nave
llie expenso oi another one ten years
from now.”
Greedy grooer (to farmer’s wife who
is supplying him with butter)—"Thie
pun’ o’ butter is ower llcht, gudewlfe.”
Gulewife—*"Blame yeisel’, then; I
weighed it wi’ the pun’ o’ sugar I gat
frao ye yestreen.”
rOKT-TRBB.
Oak, Caroline! fir yew I pine;
Oh, willow, will vou not be mine?
l iiy lineal eyes, thy tulip# red,
Tliv way#, nlUnrah, have turned my heed;
All linden shadow# by thv seto,
I cypres# on tny heart and wait;
Dion gum ! batch olierUhed, Caroline;
Wa’ll fly tor elm# ol bit## divmo.
There is a young man studying law in
a Galveston lawyer's office, and tbe
young man is not vtrv regular in bie
habits. Yesterday tbe old lawyer said:
Why didn’t I see you in court, yester
day?" “Because I wa-n’t there, I
reckon. I was oon fined to my room
with the toothache." was the response
ot the incipient Blackstone. “ Come,
now,” said ihn lawyer, good-naturedly,
"stop that. You will havo plenty of
time to He after you have passed your
examination and been admitted to the
bar."— Qalveeton News
Mr. Topnoody was in good humor
this morning, »md coming into tte
kitchen, where Mi*. T. was at work, ho
throwaiarrel hoop over her that he
found in the back yard and said: “Ha!
bal Mrs. Topnoody, why are you like
thewii'sof a dr<us clown P” “I dbn’t
know,” snapped Mrs. T., jerking away
the hoop, “unless I’m married to a
fool.” Poor Topnoody collapsed and
forgot the answer tohls lonundrum, all
except something about being in a ring,
and even bis friends down town
couldn't recall to his mind what it was,
—Bltubenville Herald.
Fretting.
There is one sin which it seems to me
is everywhere and by everybody under
estimated, and quite too much over
looked in our valuations of character.
It is tbe sin of fretting. It is as common
as air, as speech; so common that un
less it rises above its usual monotone
we do not even observe it. Watch any
ordinary coming together of people, and
see how muny minutes it will be before
somebody frets—that is, mukes a more
or less complaining statement of some
thing or other, which most probably,
every one in the room, or the stage, or
tho cur. or the street co ner, as it may
be, knew before, and which most prob
ably nobody can help. Why say any
thing about itP It is c«.ld, it is hot, it is
wet, it is dry; somebody has broken an
appointment, ill-cooked a meal; stu
pidity or bad faith somewhere has
resulted in discomfort. There are
always plenty of things to fret about. It
is simply astonishing how much
annoyance and discomfort may be found
in the course of every day’s living, even
at the simplest, ii oneonly keepsaBharp
eve out on that side of things. Even
Holy Writ says wa are born to trouble
as sparks fly upward, in the blackest of
smoke, there is a blue sky above, and
the less timo they waste on the road the
sooner they will reach it. Fretting is
all timo wasted on the road.—Helen
Hunt.
In Cuba there is a litfclo insect, the
nigua. which enters the human skin,
and, building a nest underneath, depos
its its egga. It is so small a- to require
a microscope to detect it. They cause
intense itching, and, of course, poison
the flesh where they enter:
A Mad Stone.
There are many persons in the West
who believe in the cnri.tive powers ot
the mad stone. A ,nan who was bitten
by a mad pig near Tdcumseh, Neb.,
traveled all the way to Savannah, Mo.,
to trv the famous mad s nne owned Dy
old Uncle John Nelson. Tne stone im
mediately adhered to the wound, which
is said to be proof positive that the
patient’s blood was poison d, and re
mained clinging to the sore irom early
morning un ilsundown, wh iflitdroppea
cff. Tb : patient denTted feeling that
ho bad heen cured. Uncle John Nelson
has owned his mad stone since 1848,
and has u ed it in over a hundred cases
where men have been bitt .n. He avers
tupt it never failed to woik s-oure.
Laws for the Million-
A note dated on Sunday is void. .
If a note be lost or stolen it does not
release ths maker; he must pay it.
An indorser of a note is exempt from
liability if not served with notice of its
aishonor within twenty-four hours of
its non payment.
Each individual iu partnership is re
sponsible for the whole amount ot tbe
debts of the firm, except in cases of
special partnership.
Ignorance of the law excuses no ore.
An agreement without consideration
is void.
Signatures in lead penoil are good in
law.
A receipt for money is not legally con
clusive.
Contracts made on Sunday cannot be
enforced.
A contract made with a minor is void
able.
A contract made with a lunatic is
void.
Checks or drafts must be presented
for payment without unreasonable
delay.
The public debt of tbe United States
is $68 per head; of Spain, $154; of
France $136; of England, $>17; of
Holltnd, $U7; of Canada, 8if8; of
Mexico, $39; of Switzerland, $i.
:*
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