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THE LINCOLNTON NEWS J. D. COLLEY & CO., VOL. I. WASHINGTON ADVERTISEMENTS. LORENZO SMITH &BR0 •> —OF— WASHINGTON, CrA„ ABE OFFERING FOR TEE FALL TEALS Cincinn ati Buggies AT $50 TO $75. Columbus Buggies AT $100 TO $160. Baggies and Carriages of other makes and grades at various prices. Also STUDEBAKER WAGONS At $65 and $70. TENNESSEE WAGONS At $60 and $65 WEBSTER WAGONS $60 to $75. THREE 3-4 WAGONS A.T Own Make, at $40. KEMP’S MANURE SPREADERS, GRAI.\ DRILLS, ALBION SPRING TOOTH HARROWS, WINDMILLS, And a General Assortment of Agricultural Implements Harness, Also Single Harness from $9 up. Double parts of Harness, Hubs, Spoke. and Rims. 4 Good Buggy&Hamesslor $gQ. Our prices sre guaranteed to be as low as any similar house in the South. Give us a tail. Correspondence solicited. 0. M. MAY, WASHINGTON, GA., CROCER AtfTD DEALER IN CTT2 tara p=» The liberal patronage which I have ob :allied from the people of Wilkes and adjoin¬ ing counties, I intend to hold by continuing to sell my go.xls at the very lowest prices, and by fair dealing ill all ilungs. Also C. M. W3AY & CO. W ill carry on a General Mercantile business at Double Branches, Lincoln Co., Ga. MERCIER’S STORE A First-Glass Store in Every Respect. A full stock of Genera) Moichancliss always on hand. .T. N. 31 ercier. T. H. REMSEftS’S STORE 1 FINE WINES m WHISKIES. GENUINE MONOGRAM. the AUQUSTA, ELBEBTON AND CHICAGO RAILROAn i ESTABLISHED 1872. LOWE & BRO., RETAIL DEALERS IN FINE LIQUORS OF ALL SORTS AGENTS FOR THE SALE OF NORTH CAROLINA CORN WHISKY APPLE AND PEACII BRANDY, FINS WINES, RUM, GIN, ALE, BEER, ETC.,.ETC, ETC., ETC. TOBACCO 41 CIGARS. WASHINGTON. GA. AUGUSTA ADVERTISEMENTS. ROET. H. MAY. A. R. GOODYEAR RflB’T H. MAY 6 C0.’S GRAND EXHIBITION OP And PLANTATION WAGONS. ALL SIZES. The largest and most complete assortment of One and Two-Horse Vehicles ever shown in this section. All first-class work, and will be offered for the next sixty days at prices way below their value and lower than can be duplicated. Do not lose this opportunity. On exami¬ nation this work will prove to you that it cannot bo purchased elsewhere at the prices we offer. Harness, Also, a large stock of Saddles, Bridles Umbrellas, Lap Robe3, Blankets, Calf Skins, Sole and Harness Leather, Rub¬ ber and Leather Belting, Trunks, Bags, Hubs, Harness, Spokes, Wagon Reins, Axles, Trace Chains, Cash Pbioes. Harness, etc., at Lowest THE ROAD CART {PATENTED.) - The safest, lightest and most easy riding two-wheeled vehicle ever produced. Of all the road carts made, use and experience has demonstrated these to be the best. The Adjustable Balance is a most valuable fea tnre of our Road Carts. Buy no other. Price $50. . N. B.—We warrant all the vehicles we sell. Remember oar prices are the lowest. ROB’TH. MAY & CO., BROAD STREET, Opposite Georgia R. R. Bank ATJGUSTA. GA. ORDER YOUR Saw Mills, Cane Mills Grrist Mills, And Plantation and Mill Machinery Engines and Boilers, Cotton Screws, Shafting, Boxes, Mill Pulleys, Gearing, Hangers, Journal Gudgeons, Turbine Water Wheels, ’ Gin Gearing, Judson’s Governors, Diss ton’s Circular Saws, Gammers and Files,' Belting and Babbit Metal and and Brass Check Fittings, Valves Globe and Whistles, Ganges, Iron and Brass Castings, Gin Ribs, Iron Fronts, Balconies and Fence Rail¬ ing. Geo. R. Lombard & Co., FOREST CITY Foundry and Machine Works, NEAR THE WATER TOWER, 1014 to 1026 Fenwick Street, AUGUSTA, GA. ^“Repairing promptly done at Lowes prices. CENTRAL HOTEL, AUGUSTA, GA. MRS. W. M. THOMAS, Pbotexktbess This hotel, so well known to the citizens of in Lincoln the and adjoining of business counties, portion is located of center tne manta to the public such «»only flrst-clasa hotels can afford. LINCOLNTON, GA., FRIDAY, JANUARY 19, 1883. Reward. Yes, call him ma<3 who dares to climb The rock-strewn path of Truth— You who would never dream to peer Beyond the ken of youth— You who never see the seed Till tire bursting of the grain, And can never feel the sunshine Glowing just beyond the rain ! Call him mad who, pushing forward Full a century in the van, Plants his banner on the hilltops— Claims man’s leader is a man! And if you must stop and linger, Afraid to breast the hill, Stand back in lower darkness— Make room for him who will! Float in your idle vessels Close within the harbor-bar ; Make it dance among the ripples, Though you may not venture far ; Lie and wonder at the waters Stretching out so wild and free, Somewhere there’s a better sailor Who will dare to put to sea! Sleep you then in perfect safety Close within your guarded fort; Make the War of Barth a pastime, And the Fight of Life a sport; Linger, if you will, in pleasure, While the weary hours lag ; Somewhere there’s a bolder sailor Who will carry on the Flag ! Call him mad 1 And yet forever Some grand leader will be there Pushing upward to the summit— Pushing up toward clearer air. You may stay in lower darkness, Clasping close your clanking chain : Some one yet will strike it from you, Making free the heart and brain ! —George R. Parrish. A SILENT ACCUSER. it was the loveliest place for many miles around, the little, red farmhouse standing isolated in the midst of an orchard, half-way up-the hillside, and shut in by a strip of wood which con¬ cealed it from the village below. This latter defect might have been remedied by judicious openings here and there; but Miss Phcebe Rowel was of the old-fashioned, conservative kind, and often remarked that what had been good enough for her father and grandfather was good enough for her. Consequently, she was opposed to all change and improvement on her farm; and this, in truth, had been the cause of Stephen Greer’s dismissal, who, being of the progressive order, could not be brought to manage her place in the slow, old way that she preferred. Stephen was working now at Farmer Lawson’s, five miles up the valley, and he hoped to be able soon to purchase a little place of his own, and to ask Bessie Brown, Miss Phoebe’s comelv, rosy-cheeked maid, to share his home with him. Whether or no Bessie would con ent, was a question with the gossips ; for, though Stephen was good-looking and clever, the girl did not seem par ticularly to fancy him. Some hinted at a liking which was supposed to have existed between Bessie and Miss Phoebe’s nephew, an orphan boy whom she had grudgingly “ brought up ” and assisted to educate, anil who hail disappointed her expecta¬ tions by falling into idle and dissipated habits, instead of working steadily on the farm. Three years ago she had given him a little money and sent him away to seek work for himself, charging him never to return or write to her until he should he settled in some steady em ployment. He had gone West, made some money, and, as his aunt heard, wasted it in unsuccessful speculation. Thence¬ forth she “had given him up,” as she expressed it, convinced that lie would “never come to any good.” But one bright, mild day in early spring, about six months after Stephen Greer had left Hillside, a young man stopped at the Farmer’s Rest tavern, a few miles from the village, and asked for a frugal supper. lie was poorly clad, and evidently desired to pass as a stranger; but one of the stablemen recognized in him the long-absent nephew of Miss Phcebe Rowel. The man did n.,t. however, betray his knowledge ; and the guest, having partaken of the meal he hail ordered, went on his way, replying, in an an swer to a question, that he should not pass through the village, but would take a shorter route to the main road. About an hour after lie had left, Stephen Greer came riding past, and seein S the landlady busied about her flower borders, raking the beds and planting seeds, stopped for a few mo¬ ments’ chat. In the course of their talk Mrs. Winterby mentioned their late guest, and their suspicions of his being Robert Steel, Miss Phcebe Rowel’s nephew. “That’s not likely,” Stephen re¬ marked, Steel, carelessly. “ If he were Robert what motive could he have for wishing to conceal it ? Or why should he go through the neighborhood, right through the Hillside farm, and not stop to see his aunt ?” “ Or to see Bessie!” suggested the landlord, who was standing by and not loth to tease Stephen a little. “Folks used to say there was a more than ordi¬ nary liking between them two; anil that was one reason, I fancy, of his iiunt’s sending him away. She wasn’t willing to lose Bessie’s services, when she knew she couldn’t get another like her if she searched the country round. Now, 1’U lay a wager the lad’ll stop to see his old sweetheart; and if you’re on your way up there, Steve, acquaintance. you’ll have a chance to make his He’s a fine-looking flushed ,l <**?'*/ little, but made 1 I light of the subject. Early the next morning the little inn and the village were in a state of great excitement. Miss Phcebe Rowel had been found dead in bed, with marks of fingers upon her throat; and the bureau in which she kept her money had been broken open and its contents abstracted. From far and near people hastened to the scene of the tragedy, and poor Bessie was well-nigh distracted with the multitudinous questions with which she was plied. She had but little to tell. On the previous day Miss Phcebe had permit¬ ted her to go to a merrymaking at her aunt’s in the village, on condition of her being back to her work by sun rise next morning. She had returned punctually at the appointed time, and found David Barnes, the old man who had Stephen Greer’s place, quietly attending to his early morning duties. To her surprise she observed her mistress’ bedroom window raised and the blind open, and surmising some tliing wrong had gone to the window and looked in. She saw Miss Phcebe lying upon the bed, as if asleep, but no answer being returned to her repeated knocks and calls Bessie had called David and in¬ duced him to break open the door of the room, when they discovered the old lady to be quite dead and cold. There were tracks of a man’s feet, evidently window, in his stockings, outside the and a few threads of coarse woolen cloth appeared caught upon a nail on one side of the sash. The secretary had not been forced open, hut unlocked with a key, which was left remaining in the lock, and none of the contents of the drawer had been disturbed except the money and an old-fashioned silver watch that had belonged to Robert Steel’s father. Who the guilty party was Bessie had not the least idea. As to David, a simple, pious soul, who had spent his whole life in this neighborhood with¬ out a word of ill being said of him, no one ever dreamed of accusing him. Among those who, on hearing the news, hastened to the scene of the crime, was the innkeeper, Winterby, and he at once informed the magis¬ trate, whom he found there, of the ap¬ pearance of Robert Steel at his hos¬ telry and his strange speech and be¬ havior. This seemed at once to clear up the mystery of the case, and parties were instantly dispatched to scour the coun¬ try in search of the supposed culprit. Before noon he was discovered making for the nearest railway station, and was brought into the village se« curely handcuffed and lodged in jail. He firmly and indignantly protested his innocence. He had returned from the West some time since, he said, and had been working at any chance job that he could get, until, hearing of good employment to be had on the new railroad, he- had started thither by a route which necessarily led past his old home. Mindful of his aunt’s parting in¬ junction, he hail no idea of stopping to see her; but he confessed that after leaving the Farmer’s Rest, and coming in sight of the little red house on the hill, the temptation to call and speak a few words with his old sweetheart, Bessie, was too strong to resist. In the early dusk he had passed through the orchard, but, to his dismay, encountered his aunt instead of Bes¬ sie. On hearing his account of himself she had been kinder than he anticipated; had given him a good supper, and, as it was important that he should reach his destination in time, had gone into her bedroom, whence she returned with a new five-dollar bill, to help him on his way, and his father’s silver watch, which she said might now be of use to him. She had not asked him to remain all night—probably she feared his meet¬ ing with Bessie in the morning—and, it being a mild moonlight night, he hail resumed his journey, sleeping awhile in the shed of a wayside black¬ smith’s forge. This was the account he gave of himself, in explanation of his posses¬ sion of the watch, which latter Bessie reluctantly identified. Only one person believed him, and that was Bessie herself. The rest of the stolen money, people said, he must have concealed somewhere along the road. It was remembered that he knew of the secret place where his aunt was ac¬ customed to keep the key of her secre¬ tary, which accounted for its being unlocked instead of broken open. To strengthen the circumstantial evidence against him, his foot-prints were of just the size of those found beneath the window,®while the wool¬ en threads found upon the nail were pronounced by half a dozen' self-con¬ stituted judges to correspond with various dilapidated portions of his gar¬ ments. But the most conclusive evidence against him was that of Stephen Greer, who declared that, having remained at the village inn till past 9 o’clock on the evening in question, he had then started for home, when he had seen a man coining hastily down through Miss Phoebe Rowel’s orchard from the direction of the house. He had a good view of him in the moonlight, and could take oath that Robert Steel was the man ; and, fur¬ ther, that he had in his hand a small bundle not iound upon him when ar¬ rested: and that on seeing him he skulked in the bushes, apparently en¬ deavoring to conceal himself—two cir¬ cumstances which Robert positively denied. It was in the early April that this tragical event occurred at the Hillside farm, and the trial of Robert Steel would not come off for some months. Meanwhile the little red farmhouse was deserted, except by David Barnes, who retained charge of the place; for Bessie had gone to live with her aunt in the village. She had not visited the Hillside farm for many weeks since that fatal event which had given it an evil name in the country. But one day a neighbor, having some business with David Barnes, induced Bessie to accompany her back to her old home. The place had been bleak and bare when she left it in April; but she now found it in all the luxuriance of early summer; the trees in full foliage, Miss Plicebe’s favorite roses and pinks in bloom, and the garden-walks and S, up with gr “ “* Beneath the window by which the burglar had entered had sprung ud quite Bessie's a little wilderness of weeds. companion approached this spot, in order to get a glimpse of the room within. At the same moment a strong, spicy odor arose from the trampled weeds beneath the window, “ Why. Bessie,” she said, in surprise, “I didn’t know as you had sweet alyssum here.” “Is that sweet alyssum?” Bessie answered, indifferently, looking down at the delicate little plant. “ I don’t imow how it came here. I never saw it before.’ “ That's odd. I never knew of a bit of sweet alyssum in this neighborhood except what Mrs. Winterin' brought from her sister’s last spring. Mebbe she gave Miss Pffoebe some of the seeds. At any rate, I’ll take away a sprout. Dear, dear, what a lot of ’em tliere is springing among tne grass ! and here s one growing m the moss and dirt in the corner of the window sill. The wind must a’ blown ’em here, I’m thinking.” Bessie made no reply, and she was unusually silent on their way home, The circumstance had set her think ing. • She knew that Miss Phoebe had never had any seed of sweet alyssum. How then, came it to be growing on the place? From the scattered man ner. in which it grew the seeds must have been dropped accidentally, and on the sill of that very window by which the burglar had entered the liouse. she knew, she felt in her in most heart that Robert Steel had never crossed that window-siU. Who, then, had left that mysterious trace to rise up in silent accusation against him? Restless and agitated, Bessie slept none that night. The next morning, before the sun was fairly risen, found her on her way to the Farmers Rest, it was a distance of some five or more miles, yet she thouglit not of fatigue as she steadily tramped along the lone ly road through the increasing heat, She had invented a little business errand to Mrs. Winterin', and on her arrival, having dispatched this, she adroitly turned the subject to the gar den, of which she knew the landlady to be so proud. Of course she was in vited to see it, audit was not long ere she descried the plot of sweet alvssum of which siie had * heard. “ riia t’s the only sweet alyssum in this part of the country.” Mrs. Win terbv observed, proudly. “It’s a very skeerse varb and powerful sweet smelling. I dare say you never saw anv of it before, Bessie?” « Only once.” Bessie answered. “I suppose* seeds’?” vou never give awav * any ’ of the “ Well, I hadn’t any to spare in the spring—not more’n a thimbleful that I got from my sister Lambkin down South. Mrs. Lawson wanted some powerful bad, and I did send her a lit tie pinch; but when I asked her awhile ago how it was growing she said she never got it. I’ll have plenty to give awav this fall, and you’re welcome to some, if you want it. Bessie. It's a nice thing to have in a garden, smellin’ so sweet of an evening; and some folks like it put away in a clothes press. It keeps away moths, I've lieerd.” “I’ll be glad to have some, I’m sure,” said Bessie, adding; “ It's a pity Mrs. Lawson didn't get her seed. Who did you send them by ?” By Stephen Greer, one evening when he stopped jest outside the fence here, while I was fixing my flower-beds. He. asked what I was planting, and when I said sweet alys¬ sum, lie said he’d never heerd of it but once, when Mrs. Lawson was wishing for some, because it used to grow in her mother’s garden. So then I gave him a pineli, and he dropped ’em in his weskit pocket, careless-like, instead of tying ’em up in paper,- and that’s the way, I take it, they came to be lost.” Bessie’^heart was beating so fast as nearly to choke her. To conceal her agitation she stooped down to examine the plant, as she said: “That wasn’t like Stephen Greer. He’s always careful and cautious. How long ago since you saw him that time?” “ Well, nigh upon two months ago. Stay—now I Steel rekilleet—’twas the even¬ ing Robert stopped here to get supper. I know it, because he hadn’t hardly came* got out of sight when Stephen along, and my old man got to joking him about him and you, Bessie. Poor lad!” she added, with a sigh; “ ’twonld a been better if he’d never come back, to he tlirowed into the way of sioli awful temptation; for you can’t convince me that a good-natured, kind hearted lad such as Robert was could ever ha’ planned such a tiling in cold blood. If his aunt hadn’t been so hard on him from a child he’d ha’ turned out as good as anybody.” “ Robert never stole that money— never murdered Miss Phcebe!” said Bessie, standing erect, and speaking with such firm and almost exultant emphasis that the landlady was startled. Then she took ji hasty leave and hurried homeward, flushed, excited and with an occasional sobbing ex elamation of “Thank God!" on her trembling lips, Oh, blessed little plant, appearing in | that fatal window like an accusing | angel, to clear the Innocent and point j out the guilt?! * And with this thought in her heart she hurried straight to the lawyer who had w,, chosen as Robert counsel. We have but little more to add to this true story. Following up the clew so fortunately so almost wonderfully offered, a clearer case of circumstan tial evidence was made out against Stephen Greer than had served against Robert Steel. On hearing the whole Stephen, in order* to defend himself against the He* had, he said, on that fatal even ing, remained in the village with some friends until about 9 o’clock wlien starting homeward, be had been led bv jealousy satis'fy to turn a little out of his rival wav to himself whether his Robert Steel, was really at the farm house ! He had seen a light in the kitchen j window and another in that of Miss Phoelie’s room. Glancing through the : latter as he passed, his attention was ar rested bv seeing the old lady at an open I secretary drawer, unrolling a bill from a large bundle of bank notes, which she then proceeded to replace in a little inner drawer, and locking it, hung 8 the key on a nail behind the secretary and left the room. Proceeding next to the kitchen window, he saw her talking latte? earnestly to a young man, as the sat at the table, eating ; and it instant ]y occurred to him that here would bo a good the opportunity of helping himself to money, the sight of which had excited his cupiditv. Cautiously stepped raising the sash, inch bv inch, he drawer* through the window, unlocked the and possessed himself of the roU of bank notes. AH this had taken some considerable time mu£ and meanwhile Robert Steel have left; for, as he was in the act of shutting the drawer, Miss Phcebe ap peared at the open doorwav and stantly darted-forward and seized him ! as he endeavored to escape. A struggle took place, and tocompel, ! her to relax her hold, he had seized her by the throat; but he firmly protested that he had no thought or intention of injuring her. He wished to escape un recognized, and when slie staggered toward the bed he had hastily effected his retreat through the window, catch ing his clothing on a nail as tfiis he wSi? sprang to theground.lt was in the seeds were scattered which had now arisen from him* tha’ground in silent evidence again Stephen Greer was sentenced to a | long term in the State’s 4arv prison. When at the end of those ' vears he came forth a freeman Hillside was ! one of the most prosperous little farms ; in the country, and Farmer Steel and his wife, Bessie, as happy-looking a middle-aged couple as could ho met with, while a family of stalwart sons and comely daughters were growing ° up around them * There was a fine garden at Hillside stocked with rare and beautiful flow- ers, but it was observed that among these the simple and unpretending ^ sweet alvssum seemed always the f vorite with Bessie. — Susan Archer • * _ _____- - ■ THE IIORE DOCTOR. - Much may be done to prevent the croup by the exercise of good ment in the care of children. Some parents make their children very sitive and delicate by excessive dence. A child kept in tj;e house and treated like a house-plant can hardly be prevented from encountering a rude blast of wintry weather by the over sight of some one having the care of it- It is better to toughlien the child by clothing it warmly and give it a good airing every day, either in walk ing or riding. The mistake should not be made of putting fur or woolen about the throat. Toughen the throat as you dii the face. Be sure that the extremities are as warmly clad as the trunk of the body. See to it that the shoes are made to exclude snow-water, and still avojdrthe use of rubbers, unless, if necessary, a pair of ; low sandals be used to protect the soles ' of the feet. One more hint to over prudent mothers: Do not cover the child too warmly when put to bed. Nothing is more liable to give a child ; a cold than to be muffled in too many blankets or spreads of some kind, for as soon as it gets into an uncomfort able perspiration it will free itself from the cumbrous covering, and then by a sudden checking of the perspiration contract a cold. There is absolutely more danger from excessive than too little Monthly. covering.— Dr. Foote’s Health An exchange gives some hints and information which may be useful, as follows: Persons whose business does not make it necessary for them to be out late at night would be sur¬ prised in a night’s walk to observe the great number of residences in which a lamp is kept burning all night. This practice is in some cases necessary family* on account off sickness in the but it is nevertheless very hurtful*. No matter how carefully they may be at¬ tended, kerosene lamps throw out a gas which is poisonous. When a light is left burning the windows of the room are usually closed, because if left open the light would attract flies and mosquitoes. The flame of one lamp turned down low requires more oxygen to keep it burning than is consumed by two adult persons. The light from the lamp is also injurious to the eyes, and possibly to this fact may be traced the constantly increasing prevalence of eye diseases. The best way is to keep a lamp ready to light in case of an emergency during the darkness, witli matches conveniently beside it. The eyes need rest as well as the brain and muscles, and they need darkness in which to find it. PUBLISHERS. NO. 14. Animals and the Ancients, In r„ ancient Egypt, when a cat , died .. ,. m th / inhabl ^ntsshaved their Seir K dv g In T^Vh«I Athras one o£ t iC aw s of Ir'pB’l^nnis declared that . ni to no one \ a< a n % a wrong UIK>n " ere a ?J " are 1TU, ® o£ f C !Jf £be lt * tender r % The and , Gr affec- l eks H 0 gf te c a e w hl ch ^young of the , y t , f ^ re ? t8 l re ? ordecI that -" hen the latter lost *’ their feathers from age, the young ;* r Wed themsehes of their down for tf. o! a’ ^re'ollF ot whleh cl2ildr ® n LL’ , care f ^ e ir parents, and those who ref used to . o afferent V■ 18 lt; ft m our V modern u* ™° societies « . T Ilerq remarks with reason that, as man ribes ’ he treats animals as if they w f lol re conespondingly degraded. For a ? g t I? e ^2 * th ®, same right !' ? a?\ a ™ gthe 1 rell g“? us tLey cer ® Were m " n,e a1 f- ' ‘V f they « in the festl vals. .j® fPP 6111 ’• m J he i^* kw-rel#efe 91 of the ySe On . HolTw'Snesda^l “the Vlp- ? f n™ _ the 1 . cburcl ‘, of a Rheims ® t3tl0n there; went the canons, preened by the cross, were Ranged lier F m S a£ m te two f bun lines, WItb each a drawing 1 alK a * iate nt upon . tes ^no^i saving o\ra procLsion n' foTw^LS^ ^ of fSivS the Thf ^ J “ ?“ th e e of l “ e **• -T»® 3Dima1 -. dr isedm °f ’ ® t w ! lthlI w l if hl ^reacli; th ! he often forgot^hia was , P“* pl<2US functl ? ns tesprmg upon thetord . . nf f ^ tfa e procession of the fat ox remained,, real piece of wreckage from vanished animais ’ whJe the rights rights erf of animals wei» r “°g aiz « 1 - thar. duties towar^ man did not escape the earlier SesUd atfcJiSmSThtSjK Jd 29 ■' , re «tesr -T ° f “ If an ox (Ibcodus gore a xxu, man 28, or a " o uian - that th ey die: then the ox- 156 St T*’ 3nd *“ fle8 3 th^rSh^ th shaU 6 ^’1^ be quit. But if the £ ox - were wont to push with his IkhtA ih and hatb been tratifled «o f , v B 0t kept iwra ’ * w t i he k tu i a VIZI? B °“ ’ ^ h ^, s ha11 ^ hl f 1 1 death ' Jud gment& based on h this principle • , a r ® r ^ orded a * Athens and Rome, . Pl f ^. Democritus ■ ° Cea ‘ da mage, tobepun ls.ied with death. Under Doimtian, “***£*« ‘“gratitude *° of a r lion ^ toward ° f ltsmaster » he erely punished. Columbia and that th the. ox as « the companion of the a ^ ,rs ° f man ’ an(i ,f‘ at th ® V V killing , one was regarded as a homicide aad punished in the same way; and the ox enjoyed the same privilege in Attica and Peloponnesus. It is also sa * d that the Arabs in the mountains o£ Africa formerly crucified lions, g uiIt y of murders, upon trees, as warn ‘ n S s to others .—Popular « Science Monthly. Initiating a Stack Broker, Mr. Hatch recently' paid some $.’10, 000 fora seat m the New York Stock - Exchange. In describing the hearty reception he received upon his first appearance in the Exchange, the Her aid says: Mr. Hatch was hustled to and fro, surrounded by a hundred 'of his new associates who shook him vig orously by the hand or the hair or the ears, or in fact, any part of his an atomy they could reach. The athletic training of the young broker, who is a Yale man and holder of the class cup of '77, stood him in good stead and helped him to elude many over-enthu siastic attentions. His Wall street training, however, proved tq be less complete. Notwithstanding his five years’ tuition in the office of Fisk & Hatch he proved to he ignorant of the depravity of stock broking human, nature that may exist under gray hairs and a venerable exterior, and he knew nothing of the favorite exchange pastime of “walking Span ish.” He fought his way toward what lie believed would prove a haven of refuge in a group of elderly brokers, who stood looking at his tormentors with what he took for an expression of stern rebuke upon their counten¬ ances. When out of breath and id most exhausted, he reached the spot lie received a double shock—mental as well as physical—for the gravest mem¬ bers of the party, when his back was toward them, grasped his trousers, and in a twinkling he was “walking Span¬ ish.” Caught up by a dozen of hands so that the extreme tips of his toes touched the floor, in that premiere danseuse posture he was rushed madly around the room, baptism receiving as fire,” he re¬ volved a sort of “ of the lazier brokers striking at him with caps, handkerchiefs or whatever came to hand as he flitted past them. When he at of last managed and to shoot dizzily through pulled one the doors himself together on the sidewalk, he said it was more exciting than any col¬ lege football match he ever engaged in. ■if , If there is a man who can eat hia bread at peace with heaven and man, it surely is that man who has brought that bread out of the earth by his own honest industry. It is cankered by no fraud—it is wet by no tear—it ig stained by no blood.