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THE LINCOLNTON NEWS J. D. COLLEY & CO., VOL. I. Mark Bays. Ah, me! ah, me! the dark, dark days, When life seemed far too hard to bear; When dismal were its weary wayB, And donbt was very near despair; When foeliah seemed my best-laid plans, Impracticable, hopeless, vain; And I was longing; to let slip The work that since has brought me gainl The dark, dark days, when weeping skies And sobbing winds seemed but to be The echo of that human woe Whose deeper meaning was in me; The days when Love had proved untrue 'And Friendship but a broken reed— A broken reed that pierced my heart, And made it inly, dumbly bleed! t The dark and dreary days in which The t>9dy would not serve the mind, And painful languors had the power My will in impotence to bind; When Duty called me with strong voice, And, heedless both of blame and praise, I answered her with fainting heart— Oh, the long, aching, weary days! But then, O soul, thou wert but one, But one in a great company, And each had had some days as dark As any that had come to thee; For into every life must fall The solemn rain of human tears, Ane over every life is hung The somber clouds of drifting fears. But not in laughter and in song Was I the noblest lesson taught: ’Twas in the struggle of dark hours My soul to highest aims was wrought. Then Faith, Endurance, Patience, Hope, Came near, and made me strong for strife; And thus the storm of life’s dark hours Brought me the harvest-time of life. —Harper's Bazar. IN THE GLASS. The village of Slapton was as quiet a village as can be. There are few houses in it; and the congregation that gathered every Sunday at the parish church came chiefly from the farms that were scattered broadcast over the surrounding country. The vicar was the Rev. Herbert Gardner, and he was the happy father of some half a dozen children, the eldest of whom, Mattie, was a charm¬ ing girl of twenty. There was little society m the village, and Mattie’s chief ideas of the world at large were drawn from the occasional visits she made to a relative who lived in the neighboring county town. Still, though she was homely and; unsophisticated, there was none of that affected plicity you so often see in girls. She was a frank, fearless, outspoken g'rl, full of life and spirits, and never 8 i liappy as when rambling about the o'd vicarage garden, picking basket fils of roses for some sick boy or girl a ul carrying with them sunshine into s nne darkened home. And in such works of real love and charity the last few years of her life had been mainly spent. Her called her “ his curate;” and, as the living was a small one, she was the only curate he had. Mattie had been free as yet from “ heart disease,” though a neighboring squire’s son had made several awk¬ ward attempts at love-making; and, though Mattie quite recognized the compliment he paid her, she never for a moment regarded him in any other light than as a friend, and remained herself perfectly heart-whole. This . had happened when she was eighteen, and time had gone on smoothly enough, and at twenty she was still happy in her uneventful lot. But the smooth run of life’s wheels was interrupted at last and the wheels were jolted out of their usual track; for about this time there came to the village a young surgeon who was look¬ ing out for a good opening for prac¬ tice, and had determined to settle down here. As a matter of course, he and Mattie often met in the houses of the poor, and, although not a word of love passed between them, people began to associate their names together, and to speak of what might happen as a cer tainty. One day when Mattie was, as usual, amongst her roses, a servant came to * say that Doctor Robertson had asked for her father, and, as lie was from home, for her. When she entered the room with her basket of roses on her arm, the doctor might well be excused if he wondered which were the fairer —the rose in the basket or the rose with the basket. If such thoughts passed through his mind he quickly put them aside, for he said: “ I came to ask Mr. Gardner if lie would step down to old Silas Jones, who is very ill with fever. They are very poor, and any help you could give them would be of more use than medicine.” “ Papa is from home,” she said, “and will not return till to-morrow. But I will take them somebeaf-tea and port, if you think that would be good for him.” “ Nothing could be better,” said the doctor. “ But you must not go there yourself for fear of infection. I am .going past the house and will take them myself if you. will give them to ine.” “ No, thank you doctor,” said Miss THE AUGUSTA, ELBERTON AND CHICAGO RAILROAD. Mattie. “ I never shirk my duty nor f delegate it to others, so I will take them myself.” “ Anyway, let me walk with you if you are going now and we can talk about the case as we go.” In a few minutes the beef-tea and the wine were ready and Mattie sal¬ lied forth with the doctor. And this was the way they talked about the case: “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” “Glorious!” said Mattie. “What has become of you in the evenings lately? I used to see you frequently, but now you are never to be seen.” “ Minnie has not been well lately, so I have staid at home on her account. It is pleasant to know that some one misses me,” she said, laughing. “ I miss you a great deal, Miss Mat tie—almost as much, if not quite as much, as your own people do. This is Jones’ cottage; so now let me take the things in.” “ No, indeed ; I shall go in myself,” said Mattie. “ No, decidedly no,” said the doctor. “ It can never be your duty to rush into uncalled-for danger. I am obliged to see these people, so let me take the basket in.” From that day it began to dawn on Mattie’s heart that here was one man who missed her when she was absent and who tried to keep her out of danger. And little by little this thought grew bigger and took root, until there came a sort of echo to it, which said, “ I miss him, too. I wish he had not, to risk his life by going to see fever cases.” And from that day there was less cordial friendship and there was more shy reserve in her intercourse with the doctor. And sometimes Doctor Rob¬ ertson did not know what to make of it, and one evening he said: “ What have I done to vex you, Miss Mattie?” To which she replied: “Vex me! Why, nothing, of course! Whatever made you think you had?” “My own stupidity, I suppose,” re¬ plied he. “ I should lie very sorry to you, Miss Mattie.V ‘ ^TiiSn dorTUtalk about it, else you will,” she said, “ What a lovely rose that is! Would you mind giving it to me to show me that you are not vexed?” said the doc tor. “There are plenty on that bush, she answered. “You can take as many as you like.” “But won’t you give me that one? I am going away for a fortnight and it will be a keepsake—if you will give it to me. Do, please.” “If you really want it you shall have it,” she said, as she took it out of her bosom and gave it to him. And, he, as he pinned it in his coat, said: “ It will remind me of a rose even fairer than itself.” “For shame, doctor,” said Miss Mattie. “ I will not stop to hear such gross flattery anti away she ran to¬ ward the house. “Shake hands first,” iie cried, “I am going to-morrow, early. One may get smashed up on the journey, so I should like to part friends. It is a long way to Manchester.” She gave him her hand, saying: “Good-bye, Doctor ltobertson; I wish you a pleasant journey.” He had been gone about a week when, as Mattie was coming down the street, if street it could he called, the doctor’s housekeeper was standing at the door with a paper in her hand. When Mattie drew near, the old woman cried out: “Laws a mussy, Miss Mattie, but do’ee just read this paper. My owd eyes binna so good as they oncest was;” and the old lady held out a crumpled newspaper. And Mattie read: “On the 24th inst., at the parish church, Manchester, James Robertson, M.D., only son of Peter Robertson, M.B.C.S. and L.S.A., of Manchester, to Sarah Elizabeth, daughter of the late Isaac Jefferson, of Poitou.” For a moment Mattie was speecli less with mingled feelings, Then came the reflection that this garrulous old woman must not see her pain. And summoning up all her resolution, she said: “If you write to him, wish him much happiness for me.” In the solitude of her chamber she looked into her heart and learned her secret. This man, who was another’s husband, Imd made himself dearer to her than any ono on earth could be; and she bad been mistaken in suppos¬ ing that he cared for her. Oh, shame shame, to love where she was not loved —to give her heart unasked ! Still, she never told her love—the secret.was her own, and she could keep it invio¬ late and meet him on his return with¬ out flinching. And, although she had no power to put him out of her heart, LINCOLNTON, GA., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 1882. she could and would prevent her mind from dwelling upon him. One morning she heard that the doctor had come home. She was standing amongst her roses with a very sad heart, when she saw Dr. Robertson passing up the road with a lady. He lifted his hat to her, and she tried to return his salutation as she would any other friend, but somehow the warm blood came to her cheeks and it was but a stiff and unfriendly little bow that she gave him. And while she stood thinking of it all, and won dering why she should he so unhappy, she heard footsteps behind her on the gravel walk, and turning, saw Dr. Robertson advancing eagerly to greet her. Again the crimson tide flooded her face, making her look very lovely in her confusion. But she managed to stammer out something about “ Glad to see you,” when the doctor broke in with: “Not half so glad as I am to see you. I have been to a wedding since I left Slapton, and enjoyed my holiday immensely.” “Yes, I know,” she said; “I saw your wife walking with you this morning.” “Did you, indeed?” he said, while a smile of quiet joy lit up his face. “And where were you looking when you saw her in the glass?” She looked at him quickly, then her eyes dropped before the expression of his, and again the telltale blush over¬ spread face and neck. “ Where did you see my wife, Mattie?” “ In the road,” said Mattie. “ No, that was my sister,” he replied, “ In the newspaper,” she urged. “ That was my cousin,” he explained. Come here. Did you look in the glass this morning ?” “Yes,” whispered Mattie. “Then that’s where you saw my wife—if you saw her anywhere.” And, of course, that settled it; and you all know what happened as well as I can tell you. PEARLS OF THOUGHT. That gilt made black with deceit and falsehood must reap as it sowed. No one to whom it is a misery to be alone has a well regulated mind and heart. Envy is a passion so full of coward¬ ice and shame that none have the con¬ fidence to own it. Speak always according to your con¬ science, but let it be done in terms of good nature, civility and good manners. Ignorance is one of those infirmities that are insensible ; and, though it be ever so desperately sick, feels no pain or want of health. It is against human nature to believe any people will persist in wrong and cruelty if they are permitted to enjoy their natural rights. Men may often stoop to folly or even crime with impunity, if they possess sufficient wealth to purchase silence and stifle opposition. It is a great blunder in the pursuit of happiness not to know when we have got it; that is, not to be content with a reasonable and possible measure of it. The great art of conversation con¬ sists in not wounding or humiliating any one, of speaking only of things -we know, in conversing with others only on subjects which may interest them. There are two ways of being happy. We may either diminish our wants or augment our means. The result is the same ; and it is for each man to decide for himself and to do that which may happen to be the easier. To be beautiful we must put a great organizing and ennobling purpose into the will, and concentrate our thought and affection upon it until enthusiasm wells up in the heart, suffuses the coun¬ tenance and rebuilds the body on its own divine plan. Every young man should understand that he should not care a button for his likes and dislikes, hut should do what ought to be done, in spite of any disagreeableness. The lesson of self denial is far beyond any other in im¬ portance. It must be repeated again and again. A Halt-Room CAR. A ball-room car is the latest novelty introduced on the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul road, and recently a merry party of St. Louis belles and beaux made an excursion over the road, and danced with the train moving at forty miles an hour. The ball-room was iu a large baggage car, sixty feet long by fifteen wide. The floor was elegantly carpeted, the waffs beautifully painted, hung witti pictures, and decorated with bunting, evergreens, and garlands of roses. There was an orchestra of eight pieces, and refreshments were passed around every hour. MOM EXTOLS MATTERS. The industrial schools are said to be having an apparently good effect upon the Indians. The red men Have begun to work well and to take pride in their work. General Armstrong believes that within five years, with the 100 Indians at Hampton, Va., and the 300 at Carlisle, Penn., and others under 1 instruction elsewhere, all the shoes and ; harness needed on the plains can be made by the young men at home i ! ! The stories told of the management of the Kent ucky lunatic asylum are hard to believe. IV ho would have thought “ducking” is adhered to in the insane, asylum? The barbarous practice of ducking is employed for the punishment of inmates of the asylum who may he refractory under the rules, and this is so abusively ap¬ plied that recently two patients have been ducked to death. One of these victims committed no other offense than to spill a little milk upon the floor of the dining-room. "We read in Dr. Foote's Health Monthly that Professor Esmarch, the celebrated German surgeon, has pub¬ lished the lecture delivered by him at Kiel, on the treatment of President Garfield’s wound. He maintains that the injury was not mortal, but that death was caused by carelessness in the application of antiseptics. He would have had the surgeons refrain entirely from searching for the bullet, and content themselves with a rigor¬ ous antiseptic treatment, as did Lang enbeck when the emperor of Germany was wounded. A half a dozen years ago a most ex¬ traordinary funeral ceremony was per¬ formed in Cincinnati. The corpse, the former wife and companion of the chief mourner, lay in her casket, which, in. stead of being covered with solemn black, was draped in blue. The apart¬ ment was brilliantly lighted with gas and adorned with flowers. The husband and his daughter, a young lady, arr?' ed in full dress costumes, their (hands covered with white kid gloves, stood up and received their "friends as were guests at a party, and the body of the deceased was subsequently cremated at Washington, Fa. All this was done at the request of the lady while alive. She was Mrs. Pitman, wife of Mr. Bonn Pitman, who, with his brother, invented the well known Pitman short-hand sys¬ tem. His wife was an excellent short hand reporter, and both in that and in subsequent work as teacher of wood earving in the Cincinnati art school had rendered him much assistance. After her death he continued teaching wood-carving at the school. Among his pupils was Miss Nourse, a very successful pupil whom he greatly ad¬ mired, and whom, in spite of her being twenty years old, or ten years younger than his daughter, and between thirty and forty years younger than himself, lie has recently married. But whether they dressed in black during the cere¬ mony, and the guests were received and seated by the undertaker, does not appear in the reports. For some time past a story has pre¬ vailed to the effect that the nickel pennies issued from 1856 to 1858, and commonly known as “ buzzard ” pen¬ nies, contained some gold which had been accidently mixed with the alloy of copper and nickel of which the pennies were made. Recently, J. C. Rodney, of Austin, Texas, sent twenty of these pennies to the United States assay office, in New York city, with the in¬ formation that the pennies were being bought up at $15 per hundred by speculators ou the supposition that they contained gold. He asked for an assay and information as to the truth of the story. The communication and coins were forwarded to the mint at Philadelphia. Superintendent Snowden, of the Philadelphia mint, in a letter to Superintendent Van Wyck, of the assay office, says that tlie pennies contain no precious metal, and consist of an alloy of eighty-five per cent, of copper and fifteen per cent, of nickel. The false impression as to the presence of precious metals in the coins he thinks grew out of the fact that the pieces of 1856, technically known as pattern pieces, were given a fictitious value because but few of them were issued, and were eagerly sought .after by numismatists on account of their rarity, from fifty cents to $1 apiece being paid for them. These pat¬ tern pieces were obtained from the mint by dealers in or collectors of coin, and they were readily disposed of at tho premium demanded, as curiosi¬ ties. At the present time they sell readily at a much higher premium, as the “buzzard” pennies of 1856 are nearly all in the hands of collectors. No special value attaches to the issue of any other year. A SOTEl* OUTLAW. The Cars of the Victim Tendered in Payment for Drinks. John Alfred Slade, the noted outlaw and highwayman, used to wear a beaded and gaudily-covered buckskin "suit which cost $750. Slade’s exploits are well remembered by all the old time settlers in the West. At onetime he became involved in a difficulty with a Frenchman named Jules, an Indmn trader ’ who ha(l s P ent the £ reater P art of his life among the Indians of the plains. Upon the establishment of the over land line of coaches to California, Jules was much incensed, as he claimed it was an innovation upon the rights of the Indians and the traders, and would bring too many whites upon the plains, He waged incessant war upon the over land line, with the aid of Indians and half-breeds, by running off stock and committing other dep¬ redations, which were con tinued without restraint until John Alfred Slade appeared upon the scene as a division agent from. Fort Kearney west. This man was a refugee from justice, having killed a man in his na¬ tive county of Clinton, I1L Soon after taking charge of the division, Slade be¬ came the terror of the road, and his bold and reckless daring involved him in numerous quarrels with stock thieves and others. His quick aim and steady nerve sent many a desperado to a bloody grave; in fact, he sought quar¬ rels, and, to use the parlance of the times, “always got his man.” A deadly feud existed between .Jules and Slade, and the former resolved on his (Slade’s) death. Knowing that on a certain day Slade would come down the road upon the overland coach, Jules laid for him at the station, and as the former alighted from the coach, fired upon him with his gun, both barrels of which took effect, and as his enemy lay writhing upon the earth, poured the contents of his dragoon pistol into his body. Then mounting his horse, Jules rode into themoun tains, fearing the vengeance of Slade’s friends. Strange and unaccountable as it may seem, Slade was found to be alive and was carried into the station, and though J during upon the point of death for months, he recovered from his wounds and laid his plans for the capture of his enemy, who was finally hunted down and taken to Bovey s station. The names of the captors of Jules were Nelson Vaughn, John Fry and another man, who is now a resi dent of Montana Those three persons having secured Jules, sent a messen ger for Slade, and the two bloody men met again face torface; this however,. Slade had the drop, bemg heavily armed and with the three armed captors of Jules at his hack. Well knowing his doom was sealed, Jules stood up and demanded half a chance for his life. “You gave me no show,” retorted Slade, “ but take this and defend your¬ self,” handing the Frenchman a pistol which he knew well would not re volve—and the next instant sent a ball through the forehead of Jules near he top of the skull, who reeled and fell. Slade and his party then retired to the next room to take a drink, but upon returning found that the pros¬ trated Frenchman was gone. Horses were mounted and the country scoured to no effect; but upon returning to the station the wounded Jules was found in an outhouse covered up with hay. He was led out and shot through the mouth, and again at the base of the right ear, which finished the job. Vaughn cut off the ears of the dead man and gave one to Slade, reserving the other. The two worthies tiien came to Denver with these bloody trophies in their pockets and wore them at the different bars on a pro longed spree, in slapping them on the counter as a tender for payment of drinks .—Colorado Gazette. A Camp of Chinese Laborers. Mr. E. V. Smalley, in an article on .“The New Northwest,” in the Century > ascribes vividly the rich region lying between the Rockies and the Cascade ranges, and gives the following pic¬ ture of a railway construction camp: Camping and traveling in the forest was a delightful experience, spite of rain and fatigue; but no one of our part) w as sorry one morning to be met on the river’s bank by an engineer who brought a package of letters and the information that the camps of the Chinese graders on the railroad were just across the river, that there was a wagon-road to the end of the track, and that he had a skiff and two rowers to set us across the turbulent current. We had traversed the whole distance (six hundred miles) between the ends of the railroad, which are advancing to meet next year on (lie summit of the itocky mountains. The news that we should see a locomotive that very day was received with enthusiasm. It meant beds, baths, clean clothes, news¬ papers, telegrams, napkins, silver forks and a hundred other things never no ticed or appreciated till out of reach, We rearranged our luggage, bestowed our bedding upon the half-breed In dian, the Kentucky negro and the white lad, who jointly managed the pack train, got over the river, and were soon driving through the camps of three thousand Chinese laborers. It was Sun da 7» and work on the grade was sus pended. The canvas town swarmed with men. Some were having their heads shaved, others were combing and wind i Q g their pig-tails; others, stripped to their waist, were enjoying a sponge bath. One man was on his knees going* through some religious ceremony over a chicken before dissecting it for the pot. There were Chinese stores, Chinese restaurants and Chinese gam¬ ing tents. For fifteen miles the woods were literally full of Mongolians. Not a feature of their Asiatic life do they abandon, save that, from the necessity of walking in mud and dust, they wear American boots. Their basket hats, blue blouses and loose trousers are supplied by Chinese merchants, and a large portion of their food—their rice and dried fish, and all their sweetmeats and dainties—comes across the Pacific. The road was lined with Chinamen driving fat hogs to their camp to be slaughtered for the Sunday dinner, or carrying bundles and boxes and boards _ for tent-flooring, suspended to bamboo poles, balanced on the shoulder in the exact style of the pictures on the tea chests. The Chinese laborers on the railroad earn one dollar and sixteen cents a day, and are hired by gangs of forty from agents of the six companies in San Francisco. The usual estimate of the effectiveness of their labor is that three Chinamen are equal to two white men; but the superintendent of construction on the railroad asserts that he prefers the Chinese, man for man'to such white labor as can be had on the Pacific coast. The railroad operations have caused j to grow up at Cabinet Landing, a grotesque and hideous town of tents and shanties clinging to the hillside ( among the pines—a n subsisting on the wants and weaknesses of working ., °n, and flaunting in their f aC es facilities for all the coarser forms ,f vice. Across the river from this j pandemonium and debauchery, of frontier dirt, is drunk enness another transient railroad town, where the engineers and overseers live, with their wives and children, in clean tents, prettily embowered with evergreens. A Chita Worth Her Weigiu in Gold A few years ago a steamer was in g from California. The cry of “Fire! fire ;>» suddenly thrilled every heart Every effort was made to stay t!i fl ameS) but in vain. It soon became evident that the ship must be lost. The burning mass was headed for shore, w iuch was not far off. A passenger was seen buckling his belt of gold around his waist, ready to plunge into the waves. Just then a pleading voice arrested him: “Please, sir, can you swim?” A child’s blue eyes were piercing into his deepest soul as he looked down upon her. “ Yes, child, I can swim.” “Well, sir, won’t you please save me?” “ I cannot do both,” he thought. “I must save the child and lose the gold, ; But a moment ago I was anxious for i this whole ship’s company; now I am ; doubting whether I shall exchange hu man life for paltry gold.” Unbuckling the belt he cast it from him and said, ‘ Yes, little girl, I will try to save you.” Stooping down he bade her clasp her hands around his neck. “ Thus, child; not so tight as to choke me. There, hang on now, and I will try to make land.” The child bowed herself on his broad shoulders, and clung to her deliverer. With a heart thrice strengthened and an arm thrice nerved, he struck out for shore . Wave after wave waahed 0Yer them. Stiff the brave man held out, and the dear child on, until a mighty mountain billow swept the sweet treasure from his embrace, and cast him senseless on the bleak rocks. Kind hands ministered to him. Recovering ijj s consciousness, the form of the dear child met his earnest gaze, bending over him with more than angel minis¬ trations, and blessing him with mute but eloquent benedictions. It is stated that the Japanese manu¬ facture scissors w ; th stout steel blades and brass handles, indicating that they have mastered the secret of uniting the two metals securely, France has 5,155 factories engaged in the manufacture of cotton, woolen and other textile fabrics, in which nearly 400,000 operators are employed PUBLISHERS. NO. 3. CLIPPLXG8 FOB THE CrRfOO, The lion became extinct in Eunji. about 200 B, C. Soap is first mentioned in history by Pliny; it unknown to the Egypt- ‘ was ians. The Hindoos have grammatical works which date hack to two centu¬ ries before the Christian era. The longest span of wire in the wo~.d is used for a telegraph in India over the River Kistnah. It measures mora than 6,000 feet, and is stretched be¬ tween two hills, each of which is 1,200 feet high. A Simpson county (Ky.) belle glories in a head of hair which is seventy inches long and very thick. She has refused $80 for it. A man in the same county .has a ird sixty-three and one-half inches b There was at one time exhibited by Mr. Rolt, an English merchant, a thread 20,000 feet long, spun by twenty-two silk spiders in less than two hours, and which was five timea as fine as the thread of the silk wotm. It is stated that if the ear be suddenly stopped in he?, allowed to fall unobstnft*! the sun, under the fiuence of his attr: reach the center in $ It has been estima about six t’ —— * - which fiv< list of North brace 888 spei having t eight j m The .trial i promises preferred chi population ' on q ualit y J. H. Lester stiL _ nought Ga., although 11 t s| He was bom in Bodda December 7,1769. Whan of age he was detailed with to defend the women and <&*) from the Tories during.the Revolt, .. He served under General the war of 1812. A Buddhist the power of delivering a ortW/ <) w ho jg condemned to A mn’f j s being led out to die. A ffrocession 0 f priests is seen advancing. wori One of them, without saying a takes off his robe and puts-ft on the prison "r. instantly the guard removes the chains and the man is free. The priest then takes 3haTes ^ hsa( , and v e h < comes a priest. ■-■■■ A Strange Story. Josiah Gilbert tells this strange story in the London Spectator: A son of a family named Watkinson, residing at Lanenham, Suffolk, had gone to America. One summer Sunday after¬ noon they were attending service, and occupying a large, square pew near the pulpit. It was hot, the door of the small building was wide open, undone of the party, who sat looking down the aisle, could see out into the meet¬ ing-house yard, which was shaded by tall trees. Suddenly, to his intense Surprise, he saw the absent brother approaching through these trees, enter at the chapel door, walk up the aisle, come to the very door of the pew itself, and lay his hand upon it, as if to take his seat among them. At this moment others of the family, sitting so that he was only then within sara'*^^ theiyMf "“Tf f him also, but at that vanished. ■as f Thi.s strang j raised sad forebodings, but in coi . a j of time a letter arrived from the f- ■ 1 j ject of them of later dab than the. ot the vision, and it appeared thru ha was still alive and well! He was then written to, and asked if anything peculiar had happened to him on that particular Sunday ? He replied that it was oild he should remember adj thing about a Sunday so long passed* hut that certainly something peculiar had happened to him that day. He had come in, overpowered with heat, and had thrown himself upon his bed, had fallen into a sound sleep, and had a strange dream. Ho found himself • among tho trees before the country chapel j service was going on; he saw them all, the door being open, sitting in their pew ; he walked up the aisle, he put his hand on the pew door to open it, when he suddenly, and to his great chagrin, awoke. It would be interesting to know whether such a story is known to any ono else. If authentio, the question arises—Can sleep release the soul liko death ? The Japanese government has 164 foreigners in its employ, including seventy-three Englishmen, thirty-two Germans, twenty-one Americans and ■ sixteen Frenchmen.