Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

I ' tea ■ w HF f A : t^^MMlHli^M^^H a ’i- do. M| B I ? B B B B B ••■■ <• w v i- r in full retrea*-.. Opposite direction. ‘0 not know how she felt, but I was ’Jared. Would she never come back? Ito lie there always till sun. wind ®<l rain had done their worst? I had almost despaired of ever seeing n - one again, when a big dog rushed i p ai ? ( i seized me. and with a few 'undslaid me—yes, would you 1 elieve •“•right at Nellie’s feet. I was so wik z ' n< l 'here was Ur. Wentworth game-bag and gun ready to pick ! came up just in time to hear him II h w he was frightened the same way J* ' v^en he was a small boy, before ~ knew the ways of partridges. fe; are shy enough, usually,” he t c when there is a brood of lit frie? nes ' bhe those you happened on L Dow ’ are only too ready to tiy your face.” .J ofu * r th. at w ® used to encounter him v ‘ aa ? he and Nellie came to be . ~ friend*, till one day I ~was p . 'y hearing him say some- L lch BCaa, i*a exactly like, the awou ar,i I ' oQpia F B ''' ' : ‘ : ‘ ' • > V', S - S ’ . Rj' BtekD. Bh ftT B "I. u '»’■/ > ' ’ ' B’anama, often. K it ■ B®* 1 ' ■ 1 x ■ l ? ■'■■!••■■ ||fez£.;.7£< -B \ did .tell 11.. i '?•’? ■ I ’■ <,f reason. l |:l ' :i"f.' thin i. : ih in 'he d • Bl ■ "'- 8k B ft ft P - ‘ ‘ IF B B <,ee hi' £ ’’ B iW B ■ ft ft y ST ,■ ■ i .< '. Bk B ■. 'll '" B Bl <c.' If -i .1 ■ftftßft9HHß|Hx i -1 a i 1 1 B' ’-V»/- i > B’s after, knocked me ',“ ’ . B . It". » _.‘l ,\ • B ■ ■ • ■ ■ ■ ,A ■ ■ i ■' » ■'-. BF agan.” A’i'- '► ' lit 111 O - igll ’ . ..> the ell.. V. I e I'll’ It t I • f >RWh<*h-W!| not wear me ba k to t .-••• Bmt me ba kin her trunk. 1 BBken no notice of for a long time, ychyn 1 was found one day by a very Bp young lady who surveyed mo and said: B“That has oeen a pretty hat.” ~ “That old thing: yes, I wore it last summer. 1 think I will give it to our washwoman.” replied Nellie. k I felt injured. Os course. I did not ■xpeet to stay with her always —hats ft;ver feel the same after one season ■ny way—but I just did want to know low that story came out, and how could ■ know if I was given to the wash rvoman? I could not see what was the Inatter with me; I was a trifle faded to l e sure, but Nellie herself was not nearly so bright and pretty as she used to be. I was forthwith presented to Mrs. Middooney, who, when asked if 1 would be of any use to her, answered promptly: me, it will help to cheer up ■; dear child amazin’ly. She’s been |ffck in her bed this two months so she can’t move nor stir, and the doctor tend in, her all the while, though he takes nothin’ for his trouble, but just lets me do him a little washin’ now and then.” She took me home, and, though I was not accustomed to meh surround ings as I found myself among, I was ap preciated once more. Nellie never en joyed me half so much as did the pale littie girl, who clapped her tiny, thin hands when she saw me. “Are there really Howers like these in the country, mother?” she asked, touching the poppies lightly. “Yes, indeed, dearie.” answered the woman, in such a different voice from what she had used before, “yes. darlin’, and you shall see for yourself when the summer comes again; we ll go where we can have plenty of them. Only hurry and get well.’’ , The child lay perfectly quiet, and wistfully at the bit o' blue sky, visible from her window, and I was afraid she would never see the fresh country, she looked so like the lilies just before the petals fall off. and leave only the withered stem. After a time there came a step upon the stairs’, and the white little face bright ened up wonderfully, then the door opened, and a cheery voice asked; And how is Uy little patient to-day? almost readv to tend me oil?” “ 1 g ess I’m bitter, but / d n t want you to go away and only see what mother brought me from where she works. Isn’t it lo’ply? Did you ever see any Howers qute so nice as these ’ With these worts she held me up, and when I saw th! doctor I was more surprised than I evr was be ore in all mv experience. Wiy, it was Dr. Went worth, Nellie’s fried, who was no’ her frien I anv mor?, le was, like nn-elf, look ng much older than when I first i saw him, and there wit t red, troubled l looking lines about is mouth, and e ei. ; He seemed astoiiiatfU, too, tu seeing frud, when he too mv up, bis baud I IH long fcs el it be ■ • rOnllon Jtvnns. EpALTON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, APRIL 14. 1883. 1 Kft. trembled like the leaves. He looked at me thoughtfully, and passed his hand around the inside of my crown; some thing rustled as he did so, and in a few seconds his note was in his own hands again. For a long time ho did not speak, on ly sat quietly holding n e firmlv in his hand. Then he spoke in such a low, subdued tone. “ Little one. do you know where your mother got this?” “No, but she does,” answered the child, “and if you want to know I’ll ask her when she comes home again, and tell you.” “J should like to know very much,” he replied. “Do youthink it such a pretty hat?” she asked. “Little girl,” and the doctor took a small pale hand in his, “car. von think of anything in the world jou would rather have than this hat?” “Why, doctor!” “Think hard before you answer, and don’t be afraid of saying anything too great. ’ ’ “What could be nicer than these, ex cept real flowers that grow in the ground? You know there isn’t anythin® nicer than flowers except the hand-or gan man; he only comes once in a while though.” “Did you ever see the bouquets in the florist’s window, when you were well and could go out in the street?” “Oh, yes. Don’t you think the man in the flower shop ‘ ought to be vory happy?” “ And did you ever hear of little box es that had mus e inside of them, and you had only to wind them up as your mother does her clock, and they play the most beauti ul music?” “Oh, they don’t have those here, do they? Did you really ever sec one?” “If the florist’s boy brought you a splendid bouquet every day, and the expressman brought a music box, and Miss Bleacher, around the corner, sent in the prett est little hat in her window for you, do you think you could give me this hat, and let me take it away with me?” “Why, Ft. Wentworth, are you a fairy godmother? Are these my three wishes? And are you going to vanish?” “Not till you say this hat is mine, then I will vanish to the florist’s to the music store, and to Miss Bleacher’s.” The child did not speak, but onlv he’d me out to him, and when he took me away 1 was sorry to leave her. she looked so happy. The doctor and 1 got into the buggy and drove off. One does not get the nicest kind of a ride under the seat of a buggy. When we got to the doctor’s office I felt confused and dizzy. He laid me down on the table, and went out. When he came in again a boy was there, dusting and setting things in order. “Shall I sling this old hat away?” said the boy, seizing me and going to ward the window. “ Here, you young villain, bring that back.” ' And Dr. Wentworth scowled at the boy, and took me away. He carried me to another room, and put me away in a trunk with some bo ks and queer looking things, quite unlike anything I had ever seen in Nellie’s trunks. I spent the time thinking about what I had seen, and in speculating about the future; I was anxious to see the end of the story. I wa ted a long, long time for f> Ether developements, and at last grew tired of waiting. Still time went on. and nobody came to take me out I grew stiff and yellow. I felt in every straw and thread that 1 was unde niably an old hat. I must have passed into a dormant state in which I remained I know not how long. But suddenly I found myself in broad daylight again, and when I had col lected myself sufficiently to know what was about me, I was astonished to find myself being held off at arm’s length by my own Nellie, in a pretty pink do mestic apron, a prettier p nk dusting cap, and the prettiest pinkin her cheeks I ever saw. “John Wentworth, what is this?” she asked. “A shade hat, I think you used to call it, my dear.” “I should think so. It is the very hat I wore two years ago in the coun try,” she said. “As 1 distinctly remember, Mrs. Wentworth!” “Where did you get it, and what is it doing here?” Nellie asked. “I got it from Mrs. Muldooney’s lit tle girl, and it is there I ecause it is one of"my treasures.” Then he told her a 1 about his finding me, that da., with the little sick girl, and how when he saw the note there he knew she had never .-een it, and how he had got her address and heard about her from Mrs. Muldoonev. “So you ace, if it had not been for this hat I might never have found you aga n, and this day instead of having the best wife in the world 1 should have been a confirmed old bachelor.” I slipped down behind the table, and nobod v pa d any attention to me. They must have been nearer each other than 1 was.to either of them, because I could hardly catch a word they said. But 1 heard again the same sweetsound that puzzled me once before, while we were spending the summer in the coun try. — Susie B. Steadman, in Ballou's Magazine. . j-Bome one truly says that one eon stantly sees styles, graceful and beauti ful in themselves, rendered not only nugatory, but positively ugly, because uot in harmony with the person of ths wearer. There is a great deal more truth Um ia tai* rttwfc 1 WORTH KNOWING. Hew the Home Fly, the Wicked Flea and the Mosquito May All be Put to Flight. [From Harper’s Barar.) The pyrethrum roseum, or “Persian camomile,” is the powdered leaf of a harmless flower growing in Caucasian Asia in great profusion, where for cent uries it has been used to rid the na tives of insects. With a finely-prepared dust made from these flowers, which can be purchased of almost any relia ble druggist at about 70 cents a pound, the house fly, the wicked flea and the mosquito may be put to flight or to rest. In order to enjoy this delicious riddance, it is only necessary to heap up with a little cone one teaspoonfnl of the drug pyrethrum, touch it with a lighted match and watch the thin blue line of smoke as it rises to the ceiling and is wafted through the air, changing the busv drone of insect life into a weak wail of insect woe. Pretty soon down they come plump on to tlie table and over your paper spin on their tiny backs and then sheathe their lancets, curl up their hair-like legs, and interest one no more. Up stairs the little ones sleep unmolested, though there are thousands of mosquitoes in the room; the pests are sick unto death, and cling sadly to the walls, too feeble to think of tap ing the rich, warm blood that glows in ruddy little limbs just below ; the fume of the pyrethrum has settled their business, and while it lingers in the room outsiders are unwilling to make an entry, though the windows are raised and the lattices only half closed. Gauze bars are hot, stuffy things at best, and one must be sadly driven to attempt to sleep under such a cover; then, as we all know, the mosquito al ways finds his way through, no matter how carefully one may tuck up its folds about the couch. Smoke from the Persia camomile or its dusty powder we hahi found most efficacious, end your readers will bless me when once they try it. The purity of the drug must be assured. This can readily be tested. It must have a bright buff color; be light, readily burned, and give a tea-like fragrance ; one pinch should kill a dozen flies, confined in a bottle, at once. When it fails of these properties it has been adulterated. In common use, in large or breezy rooms, where, from great dilution, it fails to kill, it nevertheless produces on insect life, through its volatdized essential oil or resin, undoubted nausea, vertigo, res piratory spasms, and paralysis. It acts upon them through the minute spiracles, the breathing tubes, that stud the sur face of their little bodies, aud from the delicate network of veins in their tiny wings. To human beings it is, so far as I can ascertain, entirely innoxious, and not disagreeable. That we—a family of eight persons, infants and adults—have lived for several weeks in an atmosphere of pyrethrum dust aud smoke com bined, during this present summer, is sufficient proof of my statement. To the skeptic I recommend an interesting ex periment : Puff the pyrethrum into a close, warm room, where flies most love to swarm, just after dark, shut the door, and make another visit in thirty minutes. The sight of seeing millions of dead and squirming vermin on the floor will do his heart good—that is, if he is human and not an angel. Having drafted our plan of battle against these little foes, it becomes pro per to speak of the care of the wounded. To cure mosquito stings, I know noth ing bette rthan a 20-per-cent. solution in either oil or of pure carbolic acid. This is to be rubbed well on the painful spot. To bathe one’s tingling hands and smarting limbs with this solution gives a cooling, gratefid sensation that is hard to describe. Carbolic soap will do al most as well, or an ointment compound ed of carbol, camphor and cosmoline. ♦♦♦ Earth Lungs. It is to be regretted that our knowl edge concerning the emanations of gases ami air from the crust of the earth is not more certain. That the earth does per form a function somewhat analagous to human respiration is most probable; that is, the air penetrates the soil and water to a certain depth, is there changed, as in the a'nimal lungs, aud is again exhaled or expired through the pores of the earth or water. How much the expired air is changed in different aituations is always a subject for scien tific inquiry. It is reasonable to sup pose that such atmospheric changes may be excited into action by laws similar to those which govern the motions of the air at different temperatures. Whatever may be the causes which originate, or the laws which govern terrene emana tions, their existence cannot be ques tioned. In alluvial soils, cellars are damper and more unpleasant than in primal formations, and obtain and retain an air which gives life to moulds and various air plants.— Samaritan. Getting a Character. Be wondrous wary of your first com portments ; get a good name, and be very tender of it afterward ; for ’tis like the Venice glass, quickly cracked, never to be mended, though patched it may be. To this purjiose, take along with vou this fable. It happened that Fire, Water and Fame went to travel together (as you are doing now) ; they consulted that if they lost one another, how they might be retrieved, and meet again. Fire said, “ Where you see smoke, there you will find me.” Water said, “Where you see marsh and moorish low ground there you shall find me.” But Fame said, “Take heed how you lose me, for if you do you will run a great hazard u«var to mast ma agaie; thera's no r»- L Killing Made Easy. In the time of Napoleon it was esti mated that it took six hundred bullets to be fired in battle before a man was killed ; in other words, every dead sol dier represented his own weight in load. But the recent improvement in firearms has added to the efficiency of the soldier. The greater range of the rifle, as well as the rapidity with which it can be fired, has made it thirty-two times more effective than the old smooth-bore. To pul it more accurately, a military au thority says that the modern rifle is superior to the old smooth-bore in the following particulars: It is eight times more effective in accuracy, two-thirds greater in range and penetration, five times greater in rapidity of aimed fire, while the weight of the cartridges p. r man has diminished, yet the nunflier I that may be carried has been increased. The added efficiency of the heavy guns is no less surprising. The famous Krupp now makes a gun of nine inches calibre and eighteen tons weight, which will send a ball through twenty inches of solid iron ; and his field gun, within a range of more than a mile and a half, can be depended upon to put every projectile into a space of less than two hundred square feet. Taking into consideration the breech loading, rilling, better powder, improved projectiles, the lighter carriages of steel, the science of artillery has been revolu tionized, and one battery to-day is more effective than twenty of those so skill fully handled by the Great Napoleon. In the next great battles some dreadful engines of destruction will be brought into play. The Hotchkiss revolving gun can fire bursting shells at the rate of eighty a minute. It can pour out a comj tiuuons and deadly fire of seventy-live pounds of metal, or 1,290 hits, every sixty seconds. It is fearful to think of the havoc which would be caused by the guns of the future. — Demorest's Monthly. - 1 ■ 1— ■ Rushing Into Print. Those who read the “ woman s, column” of a weekly paper must be pressed by one curious fact: the fair writers are far too fond of confiding their domestic troubles to the general pulllic. One asks for sympathy because her hus ! baud abuses her, and another deplorefg I her husband’s profanity. at tempt to be witty and smart at thfljlex pense of “old maids.” Then theold ! maids ” retaliate ; and so it goes unw wiser people are disgusted. What com fort can be in bringing one’s faqiily woes before the public through the me dium of the newspapers is to ns incom prehensible. Nothing is gained by so doing, the troubles are none tha less grievous, and little sympathy is give! to people who have not sufficient fortitude ;to endurp them without i These are the women who complain thou they do uot have their “rights.” But when they say their literary work is not treated with ns much as that of men, they say what is not tiMPS Any one, by glancing at the list of j contributors to our ablest and most popii-M lar periodicals, will find nearly, ami iid some cases, quite one-half, the names : those of women. There are said to lie i in the United States sixty kdy while many others have positions on edi torial staffs. No one will deny that a book written by a woman gains recogni tion and commendation as readily as one ! written by a man. Ladies no longer find I it necessary to assume masculiM noms des plumes, in order to receive attention from the world. But there is a vast dif ference between honest, meritorious literary work and querulous complain ing. and ill-advised scribblers must ex pect the fact to be recognized.— Chieaijo Leduer. Farming Under the Sea, ? The fact is not generally known ‘ that within three hours’ ride of Boston a large and profitable business has been carried on since 1848 along the seashore, and is nothing more or less than “farm ing under the sea.” Everywhere upon the coasts of eastern New England may be found, ten feet below the water mark, the lichen known as carrageen—the “Irish moss” of commerce. It maybe tom from the sunken rocks anywhere, i and yet the little seaport of Scituate is almost the only place in the country i where it is gathered and cured. This j village is the great center of the moss! business in the country, and the entire | Union draws its supplies from these : beaches. Long rakes are used in tilling I this marine farm, and it does not take | long to fill the many dories that await; the lichen, tom from its salty, rock bed. , The husbands and fathers gather the moss from the sea, and the wives and , daughters prepare it for the market. Soak [ it in water, aud it will melt away to a i , jelly. Boil it in milk, and a delicious j white and creamy blancmange is the re-. 1 suit. The annual product is from ten to I ( fifteen thousand barrels, and it brings ( into the town, which sum is j shared by one hundred and fifty families. , Its consumption in the manufacture of ( lager beer is very largo, and the entire beer of the country draws its supplies, from Scituate beaches, as the importa- ( tion from Ireland has almost ceased. It ] is not generally known that the moss, as j an article of food, is called “ sea-moss farina.” i • i Dr. Huoh Glenn, the California ’ farmer who owns 65,000 acres, has tint ! ' year 45,000 acres in wheat. He has > 350,000 sacks ready, each holding 140 pounds, but he thinks they will not hold I his golden harvest Dr. Glonu is • ! native of Virginia, a gnidnatc m rneai- > TERMS: SI.OOA YEAR. PITH AND POINT. —“You can’t get ahead of me, M (aid a stupid mean man to a doctor. "I wouldn’t care to,” retorted the phy -i< i in, “f >r I don’t like cabbage.” - .V F. Cmnnirreial Advertiser. —A philosopher says, “Live yotir life in such away as to show a contempt for wealth." That’s “us!” We want our daily life so intermingled with wealth, as it were,’ that familiarity will breed Rochester (N. F.) ss. A new cashier in a Pittsburgh bank is Mr. Drum. It does not follow that he has two heads, but that confidence men will find him hard to “beat.”— Pitts burgh Telegraph. It maybe hoped that he will not prove a snare Drum.-De 'roh Post. -Answers to correspondents—Lilly M. S., “Would you be so kind as to give me a receipt for a baked plum pud- Certainly, Lilly, certainly. Send on your baked plum pudding, and we’ll send you a receipt for it by return mail. Could you send a three-cent stamp to cover postage?—Tern# t"?’- “Willyira, my son,”, (ays ■’oo *l mother to her son, “Ur iftfcrAy’i! .-•ike don’t keep on tramping up and down |hb floor in that manner you’ll wear out your new boots. (lie sits biwn.) There you go—-n:ing down! Now, you’ll wear out your new trousers! 1 declare, I never see such a boy!’’— ChiMtgo ]Jerald. —“What d’ye leave that door wide open for?” exclaimed the gentleman In office to the intruding pi ddler. “Di thought, surr,” was the quick reply, “that ye moight wxnt to kick me down and Oi wantedlro make it con vanient for yo, suit,” The gentleman was so taken aback that he bought two . apples for five cents, passing off a bad quarter in the transaction.— Boston Post. —Young Lodgers struck up an ac ' quaintance with a nice girl on the State road the other day, and he promised himself a whole, salvo of kisses when , they should enter the lloosac Mountain. What was his disappointment when th» j brakeman came through and liirhtodths car lamps before reaching tne bore! ! Rodgers says the tunnel is a blankety j blank humbug, and the sooner it is tilled up the better! Tim da! he says, of squandering millions on such a mean fraud as that! Bos/on Herald. —When you have a male bore, who ■ hangs to you tighter than a nickname, how blessed it is t<> e.- I Ind: <• •me in! i Ninety-nine bores out of a hundred— ; and only a kick will meet :he ease of the hundredth-will g< t up and go when a lady enters. Blessings therefore descend upon her head! Woman is indeed the best friend of mau. But ('."rrid thought! i —how in Heaven’s name is a fellow to I get rid of the wonrri, if she happen to be—and sometimes she is—an uncon scionably worse bore than the male boro i she unseated?—A I’. tlnijihio- Number and Orders of the Stars. If we raise our eyes to the heaven. 6 on a clear moonless night, we shall see myriads of twinkling stars thickly stud ding the sky. It seems impossible to count them, but such is not the case. It is found that the total number of stars in the celestial sphere, visible to the average naked eye, is about five thous ! and, the number varying according to I the perfection and training of the eye aud the condition of the atmosphere. When the sky is cloudless, and the air free from moisture and unstirred by the slightest breeze, several hundreds more may be seen, swelling the number to nearly six thousand. As only one half of the stars are above the horizon at a time, it follows that the number to be seen at once varies from twenty-five hundred to three thousand. The stars visible, to the naked eye bear no comparison to those brought to view iin the toh scope. No less than twenty million stare were visible in Herschel’s tventy fi ot telescope. The great tel escopes of modern times show a much larger number, aud though no reliable estimate has yet been made, the num ber will probably reach fifty millions. The difference in the size and bright ness of the stars is no less, striking than their number. At a very early age in the history of astronomy, they were di vided into classes on this account. The twenty brightest stars are said to be of the first magnitude. The fifty stars next in brightness are of the second magni tude, a«d so on, until we reach the stars of the sixth magnitude, which include the faintest stars visible to the naked eye. The telescope greatly increases the number of classes as well as the uumlier of the stars, so that the smallest stars visible in the largest telescoi>e are of the sixteenth magnitude. No limit to the increase has yet been found. Every im provement in the far-seeing power of the telescope reveals the existence of myriad stars never seen before, until it seems as if the stars that people space are as nearly countless as the sands of the sea shore, or the Howers that bloom in the primeval for. sts. What an inconceivable number of suns, of "mnny orders of size and brightness, belong to the grand universe of space in which our sun and his family of worlds find place! For these myriad stars that sparkle in the canopy . Dlgi, !," r ® e ß a suns like our sun, masses o dilh white shining pointy our ‘ .m would it ho were M ter away.- louth's Companion. _ A t 9 of coins in Ne* eceutly, *l7l VM P*** 3