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THE LINCOLNTON NEWS. J. D. COLLEY & CO., YOL. I, Home. Ch! what is home? that sweet companion¬ ship, Of life the better part; The happy smile of welcome on the lip Upspringing from the heart. It is the eager clasp of kindly hands, The long-remembered tone, The ready sympathy which understands All feeling by its own. The rosy cheek of little children pressed To onrs in loving glee; ^Je presence No matter of our where dearest and our best, we be. ■^failing Though this, palace a prince may homeless live, walls arfe nigh; Raving it, a desert shore may give The joy wealth cannot buy. Hhing as the earth’s remotest span, ^widespread ||||ht is sacred as in ocean the foam, breast of man— ^krihe thought of home. R£RpREV°rd r, ■. destinies his human above, fate shall bind I Ihome of bis immortal mind : Rod’s wider love. MISS PROTHERO’S EARRING, When old Sam Prothero, the million¬ aire, in a fit of unaccustomed tender¬ ness, gave his daughter the handsomest pair of diamond earrings that money could buy, he took tlie opportunity to caution her for the fifteenth time against holding communication with her brother John. Of late years, since his son had gone hopelessly to the bad, the old man had been a very harsh, parent to his long-suffering daughter, partly owing to grief and disappoint¬ ment and partly because he refused the womanly sympathy which she felt for her scapegrace brother. Old Sam Pro¬ thero was an ill-tempered, cunning, suspicious old man, and the unremit¬ ting precautions he took to prevent the poor girl from rendering assistance to her brother were a source of misery and annoyance to her. Not only did lie keep her as much as possible by his side, but be made her account to him for every farthing she spent, lest the reprobate should profit by his sister’s affectionate and generous disposition. Life under these conditions and espe ciallyjie the old man’s temper was irri¬ table and exacting to the last degree, was a very trying ordeal, and the cease¬ less importunities of her brother did not tend to make' her lot more agree¬ able. ' Ellen Prothero prudently locked her diamonds up and said nothing about them to her brother at their stolen in¬ terviews. In spite of her father’s vig¬ ilance she had from time to time as sisted the young man, both in money and by giving him trifling articles of jewelry to pledge, and though she ■would willingly have saerificedher dia¬ mond earrings for the same unhal¬ lowed purpose, she dared not run the risk of discovery by parting with such valuable ornaments. But her prudent reticence proved futile, owing indi reetly to her father’s vulgar love of os tentation. He permitted her one even ing to go to a hall in the charge of a chaperone on whose discretion he im plicitly relied, and nothing would please him but that she must wear her new earrings. “Don’t you think, father, they would look too grand?” she urged, with a foreboding that they would be safer in her room upstairs. “ Of course they would look grand,” snapped the old man; “ that is why 1 want you to wear ’em. I didn’t give ’em to you to hide away. I like people to see that I can afford to give my gal diamonds that’ll make their eyes water.” Whenever old Sam Prothero was very much in earnest lie lapsed into the vernacular which had clung to him since the days when he conn menced life with the proverbial wheel¬ barrow. His daughter saw that lie was not to be gainsaid, and therefore wore her diamonds for the first, time to gratify his wishes. Unfortunately events turned out precisely as slie had feared. Her brother, who always insisted upon being informed of her engagements, sent in word while the ball was in progress that he was awaiting her in the public garden at the back, of the house. The poor girl stole out to speak to him, and found him, alas! more than half intoxicated. He wanted money, of course—his needs in this respect being insatiable. Ellen’s truthful as¬ sertion that she was not at the mo ment able to assist him, met with a scornful incredulity, and the fatal glitter of tlie diamonds attracted his attention. He seized hold of one" of the earrings, half in rude jest and half in spite, and, before she could prevent him, lie had dragged it roughly from her ear. Having once got it into his possession, he stubbornly re¬ fused to part with it, and the upshot was that tlie unfortunate girl was obliged to return to the house without it, and to slip the remaining earring in her pocket to avoid attracting at¬ tention to her loss. Jlext, morning her father’s first THE AUGUSTA, ELBERTON AIN I> CHICAGO RAILROAD. question was about the earrings— whether they had caused a sensation and who had admired them. His daughter answered these inquiries with a sinking heart, not daring, for the life of her, to reveal her misfor¬ tune, yet knowing full well that he must find it out sooner or later. When that time came there would be a rdeadful scene, for her father would never believe her if she were to pre¬ tend she had mislaid the earring, and would, by dint of bullying or cross¬ questioning, get at the truth. The storm burst even sooner than she feared. Tlie old man seemed to have received a hint from the discreet chaperone, who bad probably noticed without saying anything to the girl, that she had not worn her earrings the latter part of the evening. No doubt her father, putting two and two to¬ gether, had arrived at a pretty true conception of what, had happened ;I>ut it wasnot liis nature fo be outspoken; he preferred to attain his object by tor¬ tuous methods. “ Bring down the earrings, Ellen,” lie said, abruptly, after dinner. “ I want to have a look at ’em.” His keen old eyes were fixed upon her, and the girl, to hide her confusion, rose at once from her seat and hurried from the room. After a long interval she returned, looking painfully con¬ science-stricken and embarrassed. “ The fact is, father,” she said, hur¬ riedly, “ I had to take one of the ear¬ rings to be mended to-day.” Poor girl! It was a lie, of course, and it made her flesh creep as she uttered it. But sudden fear and per¬ plexity caused her to resort to subter¬ fuge. “Mended, eh! What has gone wrong?” demanded the old man, with a sharp, suspicious glance. “ One of the stones is loose.” “ Ah! Then the other earring is no good to you till you get the pair?” said old Sam, whose expression plainly showed that he did not believe a word of the story. “I’ll take care of it for you.” When the girl placed [he case con¬ taining the remaining earring in his hand the old man looked as though he were almost disappointed. He^ked to detect people in falsehoods and mean ness, and lie had evidently suspected that neither of the ornaments would be forthcoming. He shut up the case with a vicious snap, and tottered to his feet by the aid of his stick. “ When will the other one be home, eh? Where have you taken it?” he asked. Ellen named a well-known jeweler, from whom the earring had been pur¬ chased, and desperately fixed a week as the time required for repairing the defect. The next moment she wished s * ie h ad sa i d a month or a year, though ’ 80 doing she would have betrayed Herself on the spot. Old Sam shuffled library at the. end of the P assa S e > and locked the case containing ''h 0 earr ing in an old bureau, where he kept his secret papers, The next few days were a period of torture to the poor girl, not only be¬ cause each passing minute brought her nearer. to the dreaded scene, hut be cause her father, as though divining and enjoying her distress, was con¬ stantly alluding to the missing earring. He inquired when it would bo ready a dozen times, and frequently threatened to call upon the jeweler and fetch the ornament himself. Meanwhile Ellen Prothero was making desperate efforts toJrecoVer the earring from her brother, but without success, for the truth was that the young blackguard had sold it outright for a trifling sum. At length the week expired, and on the morning of the eighth day the first thing the old man said when he came down to. breakfast was: “ Ellen, you must call for that ear¬ ring to-day.” “Yes, father,” she said, speaking with an air of desperation. The old man chuckled, and ate his breakfast with unusual zest. He more than suspected be was being deceived, but his daughter’s disobedience and tlie loss of the diamonds were nothing to’ him as compared with tlie satisfac¬ tion of making her utterly wretched. When the poor girl started on her er¬ rand old Sam took a seat by the win¬ dow, and watched eagerly for her re¬ turn. No sooner did the carriage come in sight than he hobbled as tar as the door to meet her. “ Well ?” be exclaimed, with a cun¬ ning look. “ Here it is, father,” said the girl bringing out a small packet from her muff. Old Sam took the package in silent amazement. Even now he did not be¬ lieve that he held the earring in his hand, for his daughter’s crimson cheeks and averted eyes at once attracted his at¬ tention. He was chiefly possessed by astonishment at her audacity in carry¬ ing the deception so far. Doubtless she was endeavoring to palm off upon LINCOLNTON. GrA., FRIDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1882. him some clumsy imitation or substi¬ tute in paste. Old Sam chuckled as, he thought of the utter futility of such an attempt. But when he opened the packet his astonishment was greater still, for there lay the earring beyond all man¬ ner of doubt! Old Sam knew some about diamonds, and was con¬ noisseur enough to recognize at a glance that the stones in the earring were the identical ones which he had given his daughter. A careful scrutiny confirmed his first impression, and for once in his life the old man felt a trifle disconcerted and ashamed of himself. He concealed this passing remorse, however, by assuming an injured and aggrieved tone as he said: “ Much thanks I get for giving you a handsome present. I shall take the earrings back agen and lock ’em up till you’re old enough to take proper care of ’em. I don’t believe your story about a stone being loose. I expect you broke the earring through care¬ lessness. One.would think diamonds were as cheap as pebbles.” With this parting shaSt, delivered out of sheer wantonness and vexation, the old man beat a hasty retreat and shuffled to the library. He was thor¬ oughly out of temper, not only from disappointment at having been de¬ prived of a legitimate occasion for venting his ill-humor, but because he had a strong suspicion that, somehow or other, his daughter had stolen a inarch upon him. However, as he now had both the earrings in his possession, there must needs be an end of the matter. Old Sam seated himself in front oi the bureau where he kept his will and other treasures, and fumbled at the lock with his gouty old fingers. Hav¬ ing opened it with considerable diffi¬ culty, he turned to the draw wherein he had placed the other earring in its case, but, to his surprise, the case had disappeared. There were other things in the same drawer, including various antiquated articles of jewelry and a few gold and silver coins, and for some minutes the old man did not realize that the earring was missing. The truth dawned upon him by slow de¬ grees, and increased Tils irritation. “ Dear me, now ! 1 thought I put it here. It is singular that I never • can find anything when I want it,” he muttered, as lie groped about. It was the fact that of late years the old man had acquired a singular knack of mislaying things. His memory -was beginning to fail him, and many in¬ stances had occurred of this awkward infirmity. To put something carefully away, and to find it months afterward in an unexpected nook or corner, when he had forgotten all about it, had be¬ come quite a common occurrence with the old man, who, however, flattered himself that no one but himself was aware of his weakness. The conse¬ quence was, that on the present ocear sion liq did not trouble to make a pro¬ longed search, feeling satisfied that the earring would turn up again unexpect¬ edly some day or other. He contented himself with carefully putting away the one his daughter had just given him, and locking up the bureau again, muttering, as he rose from his chair: ‘‘ It is lucky I told Ellen I would take the earrings away from her. If she wants ’em back she can’t have ’em, that’s all—at least not till I come across the one I’ve mislaid.” The cunning old man was so pleased at being able to conceal from his daughter this conspicuous instance of senile weakness that he almost for¬ got his recent disappointment, and he returned to the morning-room in a better humor. His entrance inter¬ rupted a conversation between Miss Prothero and the butler, and had old Sam been quicker at' hearing he would have caught the closing remark of his daughter, which was follows: “ You were quite right to speak to me about it, Newton. If it had been one of tlie maids she would have had no business in your master’s study last night, as you say, especially after every one else was in bed; but the truth is that it was I whom you caught sight of on the stairs. I—I—came down to the study to fetch something. But you need not mention this to your master. I would rather he knew noth¬ ing about it .”—London Truth. “ Pray,” said Mr.-to a gentle¬ man lie overtook on the road, “ will you have the complaisance to take my great coat in your carriage to town ?’• “With great pleasure, my dear sir; but how will you get it again ?” « Oh! very easily,” replied the modest appli¬ cant, “ I shall stay in it.” Hale county, Ala,, is looking out for her moss industry, and is gathering thousands of tons. Many a man is not satisfied to live on the face of the earth. He tries to live on his own face. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS. F«fgiV€BP!W. It is quite easy to talk-sentimentally ♦bout the beauty of a forgiving spirit, kut who find themselves able so to for give one who wrongs them as to do i him a favor? An English bishop gave a fine example of tins Christian virtue when one of his clergy who had abused him through the newspapers solicited a favor. The bishop promptly granted his request. jHis astonished reviler re plied: “ My Lord, I must say I very ‘ much regret the part I have taken against you. I beg your forgiveness. „ The bishop promptly forgave his mer enemy, who then asked: “ But how was it you did not turn your back upon me? I quite expected it.” “Why,” nobly rejoined the bishop, “ you forget that I profess myself a Christian.” Has the reader an enemy ? Let him also try to melt his enemy in the furnace of kindness.— Zion’s Herald. Religious Newg and Notes. reSr^ 0 h3S ^ miQiSterS ^ There are thirtydwo Episcopal news¬ papers in the United States. l^he Hon. Jacob Sleeper has been sup .‘rintendent of a Methodist Episco¬ pal Sunday-school in Boston for fifty two consecutive years. Many people regard religion very much as they regard smallpox. They desire to have it as light as possible, and are very careful that it does not mark them. The converts to Christianity from among the Dakota Indians are gath¬ ered into eleven Presbyterian churches, which together form a presbytery. Sev¬ eral of the pastors are full-blooded In¬ dians. A large number of the Japanese stu¬ dents sent to America returned to their native country Christians, while not one such case has occurred among those sent to Germany, France and England. The Episcopal Clergyman’s Insu¬ rance league in the last thirteen years has paid $316,000 to the widows and orphans of deceased clergymen, and of this sum $15,552 was paid during the past year. *>* During the visit to England of Cet awayo, the captive king of the Zulus, a former missionary in Zululand pre sented him with a handsome Bible printed in the Zulu language. He was much gratified at the gift. An English journal says that “Mr. Moody’s evangelistic campaign will not be forgotten while Scotland stands.” It regards his work in that country as one of the greatest events •in the history of Christianity, During the past two years sixty-five ministers of other denominations have been ordained deacons or advanced to the priesthood in the Protestant Epis¬ copal church. Of these 13 were Con gregationalists, 11 Presbyterians, 1 a Lutheran, 2 Second Adventists, 17 Methodists, 12 Baptists, 3 Universal ists, 1 a Unitarian, 1 a Reformed Epis¬ copalian, I a Moravian and 1 a llebrew Rabbi. A Living Death. A recent sensation in Paris was the case of Jean Mistral,who has been forty two years in the private lunatic asy¬ lum of St. Remy, in Provence. He was, it is now admitted all round, of sound mind when his father, on a doc¬ tor’s certificate and in virtue of the law of 1828, locked him up there. His reason for incarcerating his son was to prevent him remarrying a Polish lady whom, in good faith, he had married abroad. The marriage ceremony on the petition! of the elder Mistral had been set aside by a French tribunal cause there had been insufficient pub lication and other formalities pre scribed by the code had not been ob served. Old Mistral was a very weal thy manufacturer of jet beads. He wanted his only son to heap fortune upon fortune in marrying the heiress of a'Marseilles ship owner. The Polish ladj™was very, beautiful, of honorable iife, but poor, find she bad been obliged to turn an enthralling voice to meree nary account by singing in theatres and at concerts. Jean Mistral was taking steps to marry her according to French law, when his father one day ran againt him in the high street of Tarascon, in the year 1840, and cried out to a couple of policemen who were with him to arrest tlie madman. The son made a desperate fight to r his liberty, and soldiers were called in. He was subjugated and manacled and sent off to an asylum near Montpelier where he still is. The fact that he re¬ sisted ta force publique was taken as confirmation of the doctor’s lettre de cachet, or certificate, and he .was treated for raging lunacy. Old Mistral died soon after. The fortune that lie made in glass trinkets went equally to the captive at Montpelier and to his sister, Mine. Bernard. As it was a great one, the Bernards kept the al- leged madman in durance. His wife (the Polish woman, who in daw was 110 wife ) die*'when he had been a score of years locked up. Her daugh¬ ter, after an interval of six months, followed her to the grave. Old Mis tr * , . bad , caused the former to Be ex ^ eUed from France on the g round that she was a bad character, was disturb the P eace of a respectable and rich and had no visible means of exlstence - Technically she was a vaga bwld ’ as she was redueed to S° from one small , town to another to smg m cafes. Soon after she was turned out of . _ France she g ave birth to a daughter in Switzerland. Mother and child died in extreme poverty some years later. The news of their death threw the prisoner in the asylum into a state of [ frenzy. The fortune inherited by Jean Mistral from his father has gone on accumulating at simple and compound interest and has been carefully nursed by the Bernards, who are bis heirs apparent. M. Fournier, who has beea exertin S himself to get the pris oner released from the asylum, is his first cousin. According to an article in the civil code a rich madman or mad woman is not to be confined in a madhouse, but p’a ed under treatment at home, and is to be provided with a domestic establishment corresponding with his or her yearly revenue. Mis¬ tral is an ordinary boarder at the asy¬ lum, where he has passed nearly half a century, and is allowed one man ser¬ vant, whose business is not to minister to his comfort, but to prevent his es caping. Engs. When an American buyer arrives in the heart of the rug-making country in Asia he selects the best agent he can find and gives him an order for say, 100 rugs, of about the colors and sizes of certain samples which he may find in the bazaars. The Turkish agent then employs natives of the villages where the kind of rugs selected are wanted, giving to each a hag of gold and instructions to [order four rugs. The subagent then goes among the families and talks rugs with them j drinking many Cups of coffee and dis¬ cussing the price for days at a time. WheD a bargain is concluded some mon< T is furnished the family for wool d J es and food, and the agent goes away sure that in the course of a few months the rug will be ready. Upon a carpet measuring eight feet by twelve a whole family will work for months. The cotton or woolen threads which form the groundwork or warp of the fabric are stretched upon a huge frame the width of the rug, and the family, or such members of it as are able, sit on the floor and tie knots in the warp threads with the .colored wool tufts, tightening the finished fabric now and then with a rough comb. Each worker takes about twenty seven inches of the rug and works along this strip. From two to four inches a day is the speed at which the rug advances if the.family is large enough for the whole width of the rug to advance at the same time. A rug eight or nine feet wide requires four persons, who work side by side. The finishing of the rug, smoothing, clipping, etc., is a work requiring skill and judgment. The wages are very small and the payment is according to the number of square feet. The work¬ ers know certain patterns by heart and dye their own wools. The old dyes have in some instances been sup¬ planted by aniline colors, which do not keep their tones, and fade without giv¬ ing to the rug the softness of tint which is the chief glory of a fine Eastern mg. So many merchants have refused to buy the carpets in which aniline dyes have been used that the use of them may eventually be stopped, The rug-makers as a class are poor in money, very ignorant and very reu ligious, but live comfortably. Espe eially around the borders of theJCaspian sea > in the country watered by the riv ers from the Caucasian mountains, are the people in comfortable eircum stances, although about three centuries behind the rest of the world, The ni S s and carpets are brought in from Tersia and the neighboring districts on camels’ backs, the arrival of camel trains being,one of the curious sights of the town. Value of an Express Train. Few persons are aware of the value of an express train. The Indianapolis Journal says that what is known as the Royal Limited express over the Pennsylvania road, as ordinarily made up, represents over $120,000, as fol lows: Engine, $12,000; baggage car $1,200; smoking $12,000; car, $5,000; dining* Pull" room car, five elegant man cars, $18,000 each, $90,000. The ordinary express trains represent from | ' $88,000 to $85,000. Stalks of wheat six feet liio-h with heads six inches long, are the wide 1 ° of r California. LADIES’ DEPARTMENT. ! A Hungarian Beauty* The prize-offered for the most beau- : tiful woman at the peopl6’s festival in BudaPesth, Hungry, created a nation¬ al sensation and attracted an immense multitude to witness the competition. Over 150 women presented themselves before the bench" of judges. They were inspected one at a time, and each can didate, as soon as judged, was passed on to a waiting-room. When the whole number had been reviewed they were again taken before the judges singly, and finally all were placed to-1 gether in a line.' After critical inspec tion the ten most beautiful ones were selected and the rest dismissed, and then; from this number the two love¬ liest of all were chosen for the first and second prizes. But this was a work of difficulty, and was not settled to the satisfaction of all. The victor in the tournament was Mi«« r -'rr liaSzekelv, a maic *-n of sixteen, the da>\ghter oi an official in the imperial household. Her claims to beauty rest upon a charming transparent complexion, melting brown eyes, a small mouth, rich dark-brown hair and a form of youthful grace; but her features are not wholly regular, and the mouth and head are not perfect in shape. Her photograph, taken in a dress that is being made for her by the first dress¬ maker of Hungary, is to be sent to ail the illustrated journals of Europe for pub¬ lication. This competition is said to have shown the Hungarians that they can boast of every type of -female love¬ liness, and they are taking advantage of the privilege. ^ Fr*Woii Fans rival sunshades in size. Moires retain their popularity. The jacket is the rage this faR. Velveteen is r tor skirts. Soutache eiubH is the rage. Chenille fringes' lie m uch worn., Braided costumes filtich worn Feather trimmings^fifesmn Jy in rogue. ' Ficelle lace has been intrude.' -d intr. bn S erie . Pelerines and shoulder caps remain in vogue. There is a revival of plain s costumes. Pokes will be more in vogue this fall than ever. Jackets and pelisses are the leading fall wraps. • Red'prevails in watering-place toilets HI for the fall. I Bonnets are worn tip tilted far ov« the forehead. Brick-red long-wristed kid gloves are all the rage. Sailor hats are the rage at English watering-places. Mauve and blue are combined in children’s dresses. White flannel, cashmere and veiling are the favorite materials for lawn ten¬ nis costumes. 1 There is a tendency to increase the size of the sleeve above the elbow and in the armhole. Chenille, satin cord and braids of va¬ ; rious widths all play their part in new dress trimmings. j Entire tabliers of netted chenille ap- 1 pear on imported dresses and. among trimming goods. t eh et flow ers on woolen grounds in strong contrasting colors appear among fall goods, A Short Guide to Bankruptcy. ™.. „ rf the who waited on the Emperor Frantz •Josef at the Hofburg, a few weeks ago, was staying at Vienna, the owner of the hotel in which he lodged became a bankrupt. , , Hearing TI of his : hosts , ,, mis-. hap the worthy Beg sought an explana tion of the word •‘bankruptcy,”and, having thoroughly mastered its mean¬ ing, proceeded, on his return to his na¬ tive village, to impart his information to sundry of the faithful, his near rela¬ tives and close family connections. “ This, Oh my brothers,” he observed, “is the true and proper way to become a shop. bankrupt. Then First you must hire a J j you must write to rich merchants in far distant cities, invit- i j ing them to forward their wares I ! to you for sale, and pledge yourself to pay them within a few months. As soon as you have received sufficient j merchandise you must sell it for cash or Hide it carefully away. Then you must go to tlie judge and say to him: ‘Beloved of Allah! I am a bank ru Pb Here are £5. They are all 1 bave in the world.’ The judge will : !; oep £4 of the £5, and proclaim you in bankruptcy; the other £1 will be di villed among those who supplied you i goods. Later on you will remove fc0 another town > and begin this good and easy business over again. Thus may tlie passing bitterness of insolv¬ ency be converted into tlie abiding swee f ness of a comfortable independ Be £ he8 “ ! U P™ W bead be it .’’-London r Telegraph. , | Y L BUSHERS NO. 2. The Pilot. From Jersey to Manhattan shore. Across the Hndson’3 pnlsipg tide, The pilot, skilled in nantic lore, Revolves his wheel from side to side. In silent ways he wins his bays. His mold is strong, hi3 face is dun, Bronzed by the kissing, amorous rays Blown from the nostrils of the son when Night’s brown hand uncoils ber.hair, And spreads it o’er the water* blue, The pilot’s eye she firea with care, And binds his breast to duty true. The lazy fog is dimly starred With balls of red and blue and gre *n. screaming whistles startling guard A pa ? 3age felt * bat aU All groping through the masking mist, The* steamboats near, like pressing sin. And cling to souls that would exist, One day, one hour of life to win. The life that fills the pilot’s hand Responds to hearts with bated breath, While faith ascends to his command. And doffs its phantom raiment, death, —Hugh Fa r rrfi r AfeDerraotf. PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS, One of the most aggravating <pf bores is a spiral stud on a close-fitting shirt bosom. ■ Man proposes and woman diagnose More particularly so if it’s aplate vanilla cream. Tears are meregc,* eyes. Onions, wfa«* species of leek. -— A “ This is an early fl said when he drdj o’clock banana peek g The artist wh~ mmm. picture of to draw a lomr'ftfoig. A; mad andflfd wcSj his girl snit. Such* serve a hash _ Economy is cotH r thing, but it. gas AV it a making corned beef and. steak bgge taste and mushroom^., qffitejjo good* WjSi ? - “Do von own this in inquired a farmer of Mm hanging over the at . own it," M I ut I’ve ..at a !“au on it.”' ^ “ I like yoiir new haiverynO^.” lit said; ’ its Vine,’ then’s a sort til ‘ abandon’—” “ There ~ fetft any sort of a band on it,” she said, pout¬ y - ing, " it’s-a real ostrich feather ” . Says Josh Billings: When a man kums to me for advice, I find out what kind of adviee lie wants, and I give it . to Wm . „,**** Mm that he and ' I are t wo az ■ smart men xt there is livinsr. Ah Yff Sing, the secretary of the Chinese legation, has thirteen sons aati eleven servants. If he werean Ameri¬ can with so many children and ser¬ vants he would at once change his name to Ah Yu Sigh. The retort courteous: He (after proposing and being rejected)—“I suppose in the end you will be marry ing some fool of a fellow—” She (breaking in)—“Excuse me, if I meant to do that I should have ac cepted. your offer.” [Silence]. A fasliion item says the belle of the period now wears at her waist-belt a little music-box, faintly playing a single tune. We suppose this is to enable the gentleman to explain to anvbodv who comes along unexpect¬ edly that he was winding the box. HONEY AND MONET. _ 1 ' £or good or m ’ , rsrrs S3 « ■ For sober skies or * .any. And ye; I r-' =. 1 falter still, Foc one doubt, one fear doth thril My dai-lnv, my - mg, My darling huyo you money? Mydari - ,.:.rimg, My <3 mgh a yon money? Hove . oh. love. X ieve you, love, Bo. you must have money— A reu rose is ■ rose, my. love, But if it lu>id not honey, The busy bee, he will not stay, But humming airs he hies away, My darling, my darling, My darling have you money? —Joaquin Miller. An In-Grown Nail. Much suffering is due to the corners of toe-nails growing into the flesh. Th * remedy is very sim P le ’ U is a mistake to cut the nails short at the COTners 5 «the nail is long, cut «ie upper edge straight across, or in a crescent shape, the crescent in the center, leaving the corners untouched. Then scrape the middle of the nail for its whole length quite thin. The scraping may be done with a knife, but much more readily by tlie use of a bit of freshly broken window-glass. The center of the nail should be made so thin that a slight pressure upon tlio corners will bend it. In some eases it may be well to put a little lint or cot¬ ton under the corners of the nail, t« aid in the bending. Of course the avoidance of tight boots or shoes, will suggest itself to tiLj-Amertem Aprf* -ulturist. m