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prim] fta J. C. HEARTSELL, Ed. and Pub. VOL XII. SECRET THOUGHTS. I hold it true that V oughts are things Endowed with bodies, breath and wings, And that we send them forth to fill Vbe world with good results—or ill. That which we call oursecret thought, Speeds to the earth’s remotest spot, And leaves its blessings or its woes Like tracks behind it as it goes. It is God’s law, Remember it In your still chamber as you sit With thoughts you would not dare have known. And yet make comrades when alone. These thoughts have life; and they will fly And leave their impress by and by, Like some marsh breeze, whose poisoned breath Breathes into homes its fevered breath. And after you have quite forgot Or all outgrown some vanished thought. Back to your min i to make its home, A dove or raven, it will come. Then let your secret thoughts be far They have a vital part and share In shaping worlds and molding fate— God’s system is so intricate, —Ella W. VVilcox, in New York Press. QUIXARVYM RIVAL kL-i LOODY Sedge- .—. » \ m!l0r s battle had 4 , ' been fought and lost. 9^ fo'rjwV again,and Night had in the come old 5 / k* '- g ra y church of Wes¬ ton Zoyland 500 of the beaten rebels lay imprisoned. The scene inside ■Kjjmujw j the church v,as aw- _ / e < lul in its weird im- r /£--®3ifwS pressiveness. lurid glare of The few a torches which were stuck at intervals against the pillars revealed the forms of men sitting and lying on the seats and floor in every attitude of dejection and despair. Up and down the aisles the iron shod heels of the sentries rang upon the pavement. The greater part of the prison¬ ers were silent,or only moaning with the pain of recent wounds; some were pray¬ ing, one was raving, mad with terror. And in truth he and his companions had good cause for fear, for their eonquerer was Feversbatn, the General of the Royalists, whose only mode of dealing with a rebel was to hang or shoot him without more ado, and who was only waiting for the daybreak to begin the work of slaughter. A few only kept their resolution— among them two were sitting together in the shadow of the pulpit steps. Both of these men had been conspicuous in the fight, and both knew well that they must die at daybreak. The elder of the two was a man of about thirty-five, with powerful thick¬ set frame, and strong and rugged fea¬ tures; a bad man to have against one, one might say. He was by trade » horse- breaker, ■ei cr was to break in the wild colts of the marsh. His companion was some six or eight years younger. His figure was tall and slight, but finely made, and his face was singularly handsome. He was the swiftest runner in the West of England, perhaps in the whole kingdom. His name was David Dare; that of the elder man John Quixarvyn. Both were natives of the town of Axbridge,but, until the day before, they had been strangers to each other. Chance hid made them comrades in the contest, where they had fought side by sideand where the same troop of Royalists had seized them both. The two were silent. Quixarvyn had pulled out a short black pipe, had filled and lighted it and was now smoking tranquilly. His companion had also pulled out something from his breast,but it was not a pipe; it was the portrait of a beautiful young girl. Ho took a long look at the lovely face,a look which said farewell. Quixarvyn watched him. In the dim light in which they sat he could not see the features of the portrait, but he guessed how the case stood. “Poor fellow 1” he said, with more tenderness than would have been ex¬ pected minute’s from silence, his he looks. Then, after a went on, as much to himself as to the other. “And yet my case is harder. I was in love—I am in love, God help me!—and I also have her portrait in my breast. What would I give if I could look on it as you can look on yours 1” Dare looked at him with interest. “Whatl” he said, “have you also the lame trouble—a poor girl who will go distracted when she hears of what has happened to you?” “No,” said the other bitterly; “she will not go distracted; she has had enough of me, and I shall have the pain ot dying unrevenged upon the knave who robbed me of her.” It was strange to see how in a mo¬ ment his eyes had grown ablaze with passion. The young man looked at him in astonishment. “Who was it?” he inquired. “Who was it?” echoed the other. “Do you think if I knew that that I should now have cause to writhe at dying with¬ out crying quits with him? No, I do not know him. I only know she loved me, that she cooled toward me; that when I asked her plainly whether she had found a younger and a better look¬ ing man she confessed that it was true and threw herself upon my generosity to set her free from our engagement. I did so—in a frenzy of mad passion. But whtu I asked her for his name she would SPRING PLACE. MURRAY COUNTY. GA. MARCH 10, 1892. not tell me, fearing, I dare say, that I might twist his neck. I should soon have found him,but then this war broke out and ia my rage I could not keep myself from rushing to the fight to cool my blood with blows. A.nd so here I am, going to be shot at daybreak. But I swear to heaven if I only had that fel¬ low in my power for one brief minute I could die contented.” “You are right,” said the other; “I should feel the same.” Quixarvyn drew a portrait from his breast and held it out to his companion. “Look,” he said, “is this a face to jilt a man? though it is one to drive him crazy. Let me look at yours—it is not more innocent than this one, I dare swear.” The young man took the portrait and at the same time handed him his own. Each looked in silence at the portrait in his hand—in a silence of amazement, of stupefaction. The two portraits repre¬ sented the same person l Quixarvyn was the first to break the silence. “Whatl” he said, drawing a deep breath and bursting into a low laugh, which was both fierce and glad, “you, was it? To think that I have found you after all! Fate is kinder to me than 1 fancied.” , The other returned his gaze. “Well,” he said, “it was I, it appears; though And,” I never knew it, nor suspected it. he added simply, “it has been no one’s fault.” “No one’s fault?” “No, no one’s. Mary Seldon liked you, but she did not love you, and when we met she found out her mistake. You frightened her with your mad humors. Without mentioning your name she tcld me the whole story. You could not make her happy, and I could; that’s the whole case. Do you blame her?” “No,” said Quixarvyn, thrusting the portrait back into his breast, “I don’t. But I have sworn to be equal with the mau who turned her mind against me— I will never believe he acted by fair means—and I am going to do it. De¬ fend yourself; I give you warning.” Both men sprang to their feet at the same instant, and stood glaring at each other. At that moment there was heard outside the church the rattle of a drum. Only the rattle of a drum. But the sound struck them motionless as figures turned to stone. Nor was the effect on their companions less remarkable. There was a moment's silence in the church, deep as the silence of the dead; then a movement—a long thrill of horror. That summons meant that day was breaking, and that their hour was come. The guards set instantly to work to prepare the first batch of prisoners to be led out of the church. Dare and Quix- arvya were among the first seized. With about a dozen others they were marched into the open air. The gray dawn was scarcely giving way to the first streaks of sunrise as they passed out of the churchyard gates; but the whole village was wide awake and in a tumult of ex¬ citement; indeed, there had been little sleep that night. Every window was alive with terror-stricken gazers as the party of doomed men, surrounded by a band of soldiers, were hurried through the narrow streets and out upon the open moor. At the border of the moor sat an officer on horseback, surrounded by a troop of soldiers. Here the party halted and the guards saluted. The officer wa3 a man of about forty, whose dandified appearance, which was as trim as that of a toy soldier newly painted, showed cddly in the midst of soldiers stained with battle. This was Lord Feversham—a man in whose nature vanity, callousness and love of pleasure were about equally combined. His face was gay with pleasant expectation as the rebels were drawn up before him. “Good!” he remarked. “These were all ringleaders, were they? Sergeant John, draw up your firing party and shoot down every man of them.” The order was instantly obeyed. The firing party was draw up; the prisoners were ranged ia line at a few paces dis¬ tance. At one extremity of the line David Dare and John Quixarvyn found themselves once more side by side. An officer who sat on horseback at Feversham’s right hand observed them. “I know those two,” he said, point¬ ing to them with his finger. “Pity two such fellows should be done for. One of them is the best runner in the coun¬ try side, and the other the best rider.” “Eh? What?” said Feversham, stand¬ ing up in his stirrups. “Hold there a moment, Sergeant; I spy a chance of gallant sport. What say you, Major?— a race between these two across the moor, the one on foot, the other mount¬ ed. Will you back the runner?” The Major was a man of some human¬ ity. Ho reflected for a moment. “Agreed l” he said. “And to insure that both shall do their best let the win¬ ner haye the promise of his life.” Feversham received this proposal with by no means a good grace, for to spare a rebel hurt him to the soul. But the delightful prospect of seeing two men racing for their lives and of being able, after all, to shoot the loeser, at length reconciled him to the scheme. He gave his orders and the two prisoners were led out of the line. Out upon the moor, about a quarter of a mile away, stood a solitary tree. This was selected as the starting point. A double line of troopers was drawn up stretched from the tree to the spot where the General was stationed, leaving a “TELL THE TRUTH” •pace between them like a racecourse some yards wide. At the end of the course Feversbatn and the Major sat op¬ posite each other. Whichever of the two competitors should pass between them first would be rewarded with his life and liberty. And what were the sensations of tho pair while these preparations were in progress? David Dare, standing before the mus¬ kets of the firing party, had heard tho strange proposal with a sudden thrill of hope, so keen that it was almost like a pain. Then for a moment his heart fell again. He knew his own speed of foot, ' ’it he knew also that against, fleet a horse urged by a skillful rider spurring for dear life his chance was likely to be small. Still there was hope again and he could do his best. More he could not do, though success meant life—and life with Mary Seldom In the meantime a trooper had dis¬ mounted, and Quixarvyn, armed with whip and spurs, having taken his place in the saddle, tbe horse was led by a couple of soldiers to the starting point. Unlike his rival,Quixarvyn’s face showed no elation. For one moment, on hear¬ ing the proposal, a gleam had come into his eyes, but now he rode with down bent head, as if lost in thought. A sen¬ tence seemed to be constantly running iu his head—the sentence used by Dare in their quarrel in the church—“You could not make her happy,aud I could.” He muttered the words over twenty times. It was not until the tree was reached and the horse was halted with his head toward the spot where Fever- sham, discernible far off between the lines, sat waiting, that he started, roused himself, and looked about him. David Dare was standing on his right, stripped to tbe waist and without his shoes, ready for the starter’s signal. Quixarvyn’s guards dropped the horse’s bridle; and Sergeant John, who stood between tne two competitors, drew a pistol from his belt to give the signal. The excitement at that moment was intense. Not a sound was heard in the still morning air,but all down the double lines were faces fixed intently on the two competitors. Feversham and the Major, with glasses at their eyes, sat motionless as statues. The Sergeant raised his pistol. The report rang out. At the same instant horse and man shot out together from the mark. At first the runner, practiced at flying from the start, and having less momentum than the horse, drew out in front. In a few seconds he was some twenty yards ahead. Then tlie gap between them ceased to widen; then it was seen to be decreasing; the horse was gaining— slowly at first, but gaining surely, stride by stride. When half the course was covered the horse had drawn up level— and then came such a race as had never yet been seen. For a hundred yards and more the two ran locked together, side by side,the runner almost flying over the crisp turf, tho horse stretched out in a fierce gallop, with the rider standing in the stirrups. And now the goal was only fifty yards away; but the gazers drew a deep bieath as they saw that now the horse was gaining—was drawing out in front. For one instant it seemed that all was over; the next, to their amaze¬ ment, they were conscious that the horse was failing. Then they saw a gallant sight; they saw the runner nerve him¬ self for a last effort and close upon the goal, dash past the horse and past the judges and fall headlong on the turf. At that scene, in spite of discipline,a frantic cheer broke forth along tho line. Even Feversham himself smiled grimly, as one who, though he had just lost a bet, had gained its full equivalent m pleasurable excitement. The winner, who had fallen panting and exhausted, was raised into a sitting posture by two troopers, anu in a few seconds he was able, though still weak and dizzy, to stand upon his feet and look about him. A few paces off his beaten rival stood beside his horse. Dare looked at him, and their eyes met. Quixarvyn’s face bore an almost imperceptible smilejbutit was not this, but something in his look which the other could not have defined, which struck him backward like a shock. He staggered back a pace or two, bewildered by the light which broke upon his mind. Then he stepped up to his rival’s side,and the guards, who saw no cause to interfere, falling back a little, he put his mouth close to Quix¬ arvyn’s ear' “You pulled that horse,” he said. Quixarvyan looked at him, but answered not a word. “You let me win,” the other went on, his voice breaking. ‘ ‘For her sake you did it.” Quixarvyn drove his nails into his palms; he had acted, he was acting, not without a bitter cost. “Make her happy,” he said, briefly. As he spoke he turned away and strode swiftly to his old position at tho head of the line of prisoners, before which the firing party was again drawn up. Dare turned his back upon the scene and thrust his fingers in his ears. Never¬ theless, he could still hear with horrible distinctness the Sergeant’s loud, clear voice, with an interval between the words— “Ready!” “Present!” “Fire!” Almost as the word wa3 given came the crash of the report. Moved by an impulse which he could not conquer he turned around with a shudder. The soldiers were lowering their smoking muskets, and a thick white cloud hung above the line of the prisoners stretched upon tbe ground. At the extremity of the line Quixarvyn lay upon his face, with his right hand clenched upon a portrait which he had taken irom his breast, and a bullet through his heart.— The Strand Magazine. SELECT SIFTINGS. A clock made in 1671 is still iu going order. Chinese military drums are made of wood. There is a singing grovo near Ham¬ burg, Conn. The Burmese, Kareus, Hungere and Khans u e lead and silver in bullion foi cuirnncy. A little Philadelphia boy has a pet rabbit which he has trained to draw a small wagon. Four pounds of gold have been col¬ lected from the soot of the chimney of the Royal Mint in Berlin, Germany. A 8t. Louis (Mo.) woman has opened an office for the cure of “afflicted minds, cranks, fanatics, bigots and agnostics.” It has been proposed to put jinrikshas, the Japanese sedan chairs on wheels, drawn by men, in the streets of London. There is in Buffalo, N. Y., oue line of street cars on which a car crosses fifty four railroad tracks in making one round ti ip. A ricochet shot from the new maga¬ zine rifle adopted in- England broke a cottage window four miles distant from the firing point. In a Philadelphia cold-storage house, an English hare has been kept frozen for fourteen months and is still apparently in good condition. There is a strong flow of natural gas in tho Ventura River. When lighted,it is said, the flames extend over a space eight feet wide. Recently between Tewkesbury and Cheltenham, in England, iu three min¬ utes, 700 words were seut to a newspa¬ per office and correctly received over a telephone wire. At Dresden, Germany, they are bak¬ ing an A merican corn bread that is find- in"- gu: Jt .,favor and is much cheaper than their ordinary bread. A pound costs a trifle over three cents. The typewriter is fast superseding the pen in telegraphy. Operators are learn¬ ing to handle the typewriter everywhere, and new hands are not employed unless they are experts at the “machine.” The superstition of the jellow donkey of India, the story ot the swift ass of Eastern Asia and the ass of Dionysius and many other marvelous ass stories, are all survivals of that curious form of re¬ ligious worship—the adoration of the ass's head. The Mormon Temple in Salt Lako City, Utah, is built in tho form of an ellipse, and, although it is of enormous dimensions, it is so well constructed with regard to acoustics that a person standing in tho focus at one end can carry on a conversation in a whisper with any one in the focus at the other end. There were blooded dogs in early Egypt, and highly prized. Their names were carved on monuments which still remain. One of them, his name show¬ ing his foreign origin, was called Abai- karou, a faithful transcription of the word abaikour, by which tho hunting dog is designated in many of the Berber dialects. A classic account of the distribution of wheat over the primeval world shows that Ceres, having taught her favorite, Triptolemus, the art of agriculture and the science of breadmaking, gave him her chariot, a celestial vehicle, and that m it he traveled night and day distribut¬ ing this valuable grain among all nations of the earth. Many a huntsman through a long life has chased the fox with enthusiastic ardor who would be surprised to know that in the very tip of his tail or brush is a little bunch of hairs twenty- live or thirty in number, which gives forth to the despairing and almost van¬ quished beast the refreshing and stimu¬ lating odor of violets. The very fine collection of postage stamps bequeathed to the trustees of the British Museum by the late Mr. Tapling, Member of Parliament, contains about 200,000 stamps, and its value is esti¬ mated at $300,000. Its late owner was occupied for over twenty years in its formation. It is without doubt the finest collection in the world. In Dikio, in Adenmouah, in Logone and elsewhere small cotton strips are the regular currency. In Bagirari these strips arc so small that from seventy to 150 of them would have to be pieced together to make a shirt. In Dar- foor the gray, coarse shirting circu¬ lates as money, and in Tiout, in upper Egypt, this material is dyed dark or blue and then cut into pieces of three yards’ length. Flights of Insects. Dr. Marey, the eminent French physi¬ ologist, has been studying the flight oi insects by photo-chronography, the ap¬ paratus used to obtain photographs allow¬ ing exposures to be made so short as 1-25,000 of a second. His observations indicate that wings of insects in flight by meeting obliquely the resistance of tht air in to-and-fro movements, act in £ very similar manner to the scull used tc propel boats.—Ne w York Witness. SI.OO a Year in Advance. COMPELLING REPARATION. THE CHILEAN TROUBLE SUGGESTS OTHER CASES IN OUR HISTORY. Two Noted Instances—How the King of Naples Came Down—Captain Ingraham and the Austrian Navy. In an article suggested by the trouble with Chile the New York Sun instances several cases where the United States navy was called upon to take a firm stand against other countries. We quote as follows. One of the most attractive cases oc¬ curred during Jackson's Administration iu 1832. The trouble was with Italy, or that part of Italy known at that time as the kingdom of Naples. During the years from 1809 to 1812, the Neapolitan Government, under Joseph Bonaparte and Murat, the successive Kings or Naples, had confiscated numerous Ameri¬ can ships and cargoes. The total amount of the American claims, as filed iu the State Department, against Naples when Jackson’s Administration assumed con¬ trol was $1,734,994. They were held by various insurance companies and by- citizens, principally of Baltimore. De¬ mands for the payment of these claims had from time to time been made by our Government, but Naples had always re¬ fused to settle them. Jackson’s Administration took a de¬ cided stand. The Hon. John Nelson,of Frederick, Md., was appointed Minister to Naples and ordered to insist upon a settlement. Commodore Daniel Patter¬ son, who aided in the defence of New Orleans in 1815, was put in command'of the Mediterranean squadron and ordered to co-operate with Minister Nelson in en¬ forcing his demands. When Naples persisted in her refusal, a warlike de¬ monstration was decided upon, and Com¬ modore Patterson laid his plans. The entire force at his commaud consisted ot three fifty-gun frigates and three twenty- gun Corvettes. So as not to piecipitate matters too Hastily the plan was for these vessels to appear. in the Neapolitan waters one at a time, and instructions were given accordingly. The Brandywine with Minister Nelson on board went first. Mr. Nelson re¬ peated the demands for a settlement, and they were refused. There was nothing in the appearance of a Yankee envoy and a single ship to trouble King Bomba and his little kingdom. The Brandywine cast anchor in the harbor and the humbled cavoy waited patiently for a few days. Then another American flag appeared on the horizon, and the frigate United States floated into the harbor and came to anchor. Mr. Nelson repeated his demands, and they were again refused. Four days slipped away, and the Stars and Stripes again appeared on the horizon. King Bomba, looking out from his palace windows, saw the fifty-gun frigate Con¬ cord sail into the harbor and drop her anchor. Then signs of uneasiness and alarm began to show themselves. Forts were repaired, troops drilled, and more cannon mounted on the coast. The de¬ mands were reiterated, but the Neapoli¬ tan Government still refused. Two days later another war ship made her way into the harbor. It was the John Adams. When the fifth ship sailed gallantly in, the Bourbon Government seemed almost on the point of yielding; but three days later Mr. Nelson seat word home that he was still unable to collect the bill. Just as the sixth sail showed itself on the blue waters, King Bomba and his Government announced that they would I accede to the American demands. The negotiations were closed, and interest was guaranteed on installments. The entire squadron remained in the bay of Naples from Aug. 28 to Sept. 15. Then j the ships sailed away and separated. | Another demonstration perhaps less imposing . than tho one just referred to, but quite as spirited ana equally success- ful, occurred at Smyrna in 1853, when Captain Duncan Nathaniel Ingraham, with a single sloop-of-war, trained his broadsides on a fleet of Austrian war - ships. The story was talked about last October, when Captain Ingraham died, but it cannot be too often repeated. When the revolution of Hungary against Austria was put down, Kossuth, Koszta, and other leading revolutionists fled to Smyrna, and tho Turkey Govern- meat, after long negotiations, refused to give them up. Koszta soon after came to the United States, and in July, 1852, declared under oath his intention of be- coining an American citizen. . The next year Koszta went to Smyrna on business, where he remained for time undisturbed. He had so inflamed the Austrian Government against him, however, that a plot was formed to cap¬ ture him. On June 21st, 1853, a band of Greek mercenaries hired by the Aus¬ trian Consul, seized him in Smyrna and carried him off to an Austrian s'nip-of- war, the Huzzar, then lying in the har¬ bor. On board the vessel Archduke John, brother of the Emperor, was said to be in command. Koszta was put in irons and treated as a criminal. The next day an American slopc-o£- war, the St. Louis, commanded by Cap¬ tain Ingraham, sailed into tho harbor. Learning what had happened Captain Ingraham immediaicly sent on board the Kuzzar and courteously asked permission to see Koszta. His request was granted, and Captain Ingraham assured himself that Koszta was entitled to the protec¬ tion of the American flag. He demanded Koszta’s release of the Austrian commander. When it was re¬ fused he communicated with the nearest NO. 1. United State* official, CoiftuI Brown, at Constantinople. While lie was wak¬ ing for an answer six Austrian 'v?ar ship* sailed into the harbor ancl came to anchor in positions near thelluzzar.~0n June 29th, before Captain Ingraham ,ha<| received anjr'answer from the American Consul, he noticed unusual Signs of "'ac¬ tivity on board the Huzzar, and before long she began to get under way. The American Captain made up hia mind immediately. He gut the „St. Louis straight in the IluzzarV course, and cleared his guns for action. Tha Huzzar hove to, and Captian Ingraham went on board and deTnanded the itieati- ing of the Huzzar’s action. “We propose to sail for i;ome,” re¬ plied the Austrian. “The Consul has ordered us to take our prisoner to Aus¬ tria.” “You will pardon me,” said Captain Ingraham, “but if-you attempt to leave this port with that Atuericau on board I shall be compelled to resort to extreme measures.” The Austrian glanced arouqd at.tho fleet of Austrian war ships ant! t.hc single American stoop-of-wav. Then fie. smiled pleasantly, and intimated that the Huzzar would do as she pleased. Captain Ingraham bowed and returned to the St. Louis, He had n if sooner reached her deck than he called oat: “Clear the guns for action!” The Archduke of Austria saw the bat¬ teries of the St. LOuisturned on him,aud he realized that ha was iu the wrong. The Huzzar was put about and sailed back to her old anchorage. Word' was sent to Captain Ingraham that the.Aus¬ trian would await the arrival of the note from Mr. Brown. The Consul’s note,which came on Joly 1st, commended Captain Ingraham’s course.and advised him to take whatever action he thought the situation de¬ manded. Captain Ingraham sent a note to the commander of the Huzzar formally de¬ manding the release of Mr. Koszta. Un¬ less the prisoner was delivared on board the St. Louis before 4 o’clock the next afternoon Captain Ingraham would .taka him from the Austrians by force. Tha Archduke sent back a formal refusal. At 8 o’clock the next morning Captain Ingraham once more ordered the decks cleared for action and trained his batter¬ ies on the Huzzar. The seven Austrian war vessels cleared their decks and put their men at the guns. At 10 o’clock an Austrian officer eaina to Captain Caption Ingraham and began to tem¬ porize. Ingraham refused to listen to him. “To avoid the worst,” he said, “I will agree to let the man be delivered to tha French Consul at Smyrna until you have opportunity to communicate with _your Government. But ho must be delivared there or I will take him. I have stated the time.” At 12 o'clock a boat left the Huzzar with Koszta in it, and an hour later tha French Consul sent word that Koszta was in his keeping. Then several of tho Austrian war vessels sailed out of tha harbor. Long negotiations betwnenJtha two Governments followed, and in tha end Austria admitted that the United States was in the right, and apologized. It was just a year after Captain Ingra¬ ham compelled Austria to recognize tho rights of the United States that another occasion arose whew our Government felt obliged to terminate negotiations by force of arms. WISE WORDS. People who hope are generally people ’ a0 help, w A good way to learn to talk is to first learn to listen. Unbelief never tries to pull anybody out of the ditch. Backsliding seldom happens in time of trial or adversity . Tne boat meduune . , for , sell-conceit _ u . to , bc wel11Dtroduccd to Jourselt. Yhe soldier who never makes any marches or fights is always dissatisfied. Throwing stones and bad words at people are both prompted by the aams spirit. There are two sides to every question, put every man believes that his side is risrht. S \ TC ” he earth ., wer V*!? r « d , with . , flowers _ aU th e ycar round, the bees would bo- como , Any fool can ask questions, but it takes somebody who knows something to answer them, The man who is trying to make tha world better, is willing that it should become worse. People who are wrong in their think¬ ing are sure to be wrong in their walk¬ ing and talking. if you want to find out how much clear dog there is iu a man, find out how he treats his wife. It won’t do a bit of good to white¬ wash the well curb, so long as there ia poison in the water. Some people’s lives are like warm water on a hot day. Nice to look at, but one taste is enough. Every time you find fault with a neighbor, you are telling somebody that the man who wears your shoes is not as good as he ought to be. Love never takes a sin of any kind in¬ to the house and shakes hands with it, and gives it a welcome seat at her table, because it is a most influential charac¬ ter and highly respectable.—Indianapo¬ lis (lad,) Ram’s Horn-