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THE LINCOLNTON NEWS
J. D. COLLEY & CO.,
VOL. I.
The Price of Truth.
Great truths are dearly bought. The common
truth,
Such as men give and take from day to day,
Comes in the common walks of easy life,
Blown by tbe careless winds across the way.
Bought in the market, at the current price,
Bred of the smile, the jest,perhaps the bowl;
It tells no tales of daring or of worth,
Norpierces e’en the surface of the soul.
Great truths are greatly won. Not formed by
chance.
Nor wafted on the breath of summer dream;
But grasped in the great struggle of the soul,
Hard buffeting with adverse wind and
stream.
Not in the general mart, ’mid corn and wine;
Not in the merchandise of gold and gems;
Not in the world’s gay hall of midnight mirth;
Nor.’mid the blaze of regal diadems;
But in the day of conflict, fear, and grief,
When the strong hand of Truth, put forth
in might,
Ploughs up the subsoil of the stagnant heart,
And brings the imprisoned truth-seed to
the light.
Wrung from the troubled spirit in hard hours
Of weakness, solitude, perchance of pain,
Truth springs, like harvest, from the well
ploughed field,
And the soul feels it has not wept in vain.
— Investigator.
FLORAS LESSON.
Flora Fountain was feeding her cage
of linnets at the window, where a
flourishing vine of dark-green ivy trailed
its way up the panes, and a rose-tree
was in full bloom. It was a pretty
little house of red brick, with brown
stone facings, such as you often see in
the quieter and less aspiring streets of
a great city—a house which bore traces
of taste, refinement, and some preten¬
sion.
Flora, at the age of twenty, had been
her father’s housekeeper for four
years—and this morning he had given
her a cheque for fifty dollars.
“To buy a new dinner-set of china,
my dear,” he said, pleasantly. I intend
to invite Gates and Plumer and their
wives to dinner in a few days, with
young Hayden and the Misses Hazel,
and I should like everything to be ship¬
shape.”
“Yes, papa,” said Flora.
But the slight curl of her lip told
that the families of Plumer and Gates,
the Misses Hazel and young Hayden,
were scarcely up to her “ideal views of
society.”
“You might ask Mrs. Penrith Duke,
too, if you pleased,” said Mr. Fountain,
incidentally.
“Mrs. Penrith Duke! To meet Mrs.
Plumer and Misses Hazel! Oh, papa!”
Mr. Fountain shrugged his broad,
comfortable shoulders.
“And why not?” said he. “Is Mrs.
Penrith Duke made of different flesh
and blood from these excellent friends
of mine?”
“No, papa,” hesitated Flora, a little
confused that her inward thoughts had
been so readily deciphered; “but—but
she moves in altogether a dif¬
ferent circle!”
‘•Well, then, there let her remain,”
said Mr. Fountain, brusquely. -‘And
as for the china,Flo, exercise your own
taste. If there is any glass needed, let
me know. I want things to be in nice
order.”
“Papa,” hesitated Flora,“is—is busi¬
ness flourishing just now T ?”
“Pretty fairly, Flo. Why do you
ask ?”
“Oh, papa!” burst out the girl, “I do
so long for a real camel’s hair shawl
like Mrs. Penrith Duke’s!”
“Nonsense!” decisively uttered Mr.
Fountain. “Camel’s-hair shawls would
be just as inappropriate for people in
our rank of life as diamonds for ser¬
vants in livery. This is some of your
friend Mrs. Penrith Duke’s mad folly.”
Flora colored, and hung her head.
“I have always longed for a cash
mere shawl, papa,” said she.
Then put it out of your head for good
and all,” said Mr. Fountain. “I can
affordno such piece extravagancejneith
er would it be appropriate for you to
wear one if I could.”
“I can’t think,” sighed Flora to her¬
self, as she watched her father’s de¬
parting foptsteps, “why papa hates
Mrs. Penrith Duke so dreadfully, I am
sure that to me her friendship is per¬
fectly invaluable.”
And then, having finished the morn¬
ing care of the birds, Flora Fountain
sat down to read the paper.
What pointing “finger of fate” was
it that directed her gaze to the special
paragraph of the special col¬
umn of the morning paper which
read
VX BAB0AIXSIN India. CAMEL’S-HAIB SHAWLS'
Direct from Will be disposed
Apply of at private No. sale,'at Margin less Street. than half-price.
at —
And. within the next five minutes
the postman’s whistle sounded loud
and clear, and a letter came from
Cousin Phebe, up in Maine, to let her
know that old Aunt Ruellah was dead
at last.
“And she has left you her set of
antique china, worth nobody knows
•flow much, and all in perfect order,”
THE AUGUSTA, ELBEBTON AND CHICAGO RAILROAD.
wrote Cousin Phebe. “I have ordered
it boxed and sent to you at once, and
you will probably receive it the last of
the week.’’
A sudden inspiration dawned on
Flora Fountain’s brain.
“I shall not need the new dinner
china now,” she thought. “And I can
take papa’s cheque, and—who knows?
—perhaps it will help to buy me a real
camel’s-hair shawl! I have forty dol¬
lars of my own, and I could borrow—
just for a day or two—the money that
papa gave me for Betty’s wages. It is
worth tbe trial, at all events, if bar¬
gains are to be had.”
And with quickening pulse and color
deepening on her cheek, Flora put on
her bonnet and mantle and prepared to
go out.
Never before in all the course of her
life had she deliberately set at defiance
the wishes and commands of her father:
but the influence of Mrs. Penrith Duke,
whom she had met at a fashionable
watering-place that summer, was
stronger than she had any idea of.
Mrs. Penrith Duke had declared
that no lady was a lady without a real
cashmere shawl._ Mrs. Penrith Duke
had praised Flora’s slim, pretty figure,
and declared that it was the very form
to set off the scented folds of an India
shawl.
She had mentioned, incidentally, that
a camel’s-hair was like diamonds, or
rare oil-paintings—a life-long invest¬
ment. She had wondered in her soft
voiced, pretty way, why every ladydid
not buy a Valley cashmere!
And Flora, listening, had become in¬
fected with the yearning desire to
possess one of these almost unattain¬
able luxuries.
No.-Margin street was a dirty
little house, in a dirty little row, close
to the docks. Flora had never been
so far West before, and the aspect of
things did not strike her agreeably.
Rough-looking men, in tarry jackets
and coarse boots, slouched past; knots
of half-grown young ruffians stared at
her as she went by, and untidy women,
with children in their arms, disap¬
peared into dark doorways, like rats in¬
to their holes.
“Is this the place where they sell
India shawls?” she hesitatingly asked
a young girl, with unkempt hair and
sullen face, who leaned out of one of
the side windows of No.--Margin
street.
“Don’t know anything about it,”
said the girl, indifferently.
“Can’t ye spake the lady dacent,
Meg?” snarlingly interruted a fat old
woman, looking out over the girl’s
shoulder. “It’s through the alley, miss,
dear—up two pair o’ stairs—the little
room under the skylight. Ask for Mr.
Conforto, miss—thesay-capt’in. Shure
the shawls is great bargains, betoken
there ain’t been no duty paid on ’em,
miss!” with a grin which displayed a
few gnarly stumps of teeth in a sunken
old jaw.
“Through the alley!”—“up two pair
o’ stairs!”—a “little room under a sky¬
light!” Instinctively Flora recoiled,
and the old woman perceived it at
once.
“Shure, miss, I’ll go widyez an’ show
yez the way,” said she.
And not knowing how to refuse this
offer, Flora unwillingly followed her
waddling footsteps through a dark and
dismal alley, across a paved court and
up two marrow flights of stairs, to a
gloomy, half-lighted room, where a
short, vulgar man sat, smoking a black
pipe, in the midst of boxes, bales and
bundles.
“Bargains, miss?” said the short
vulgar man, jumping up. “Sheddah,
Bhurlpore, Lacca, Valley Bokharah—
which will I show you miss?”
Flora hesitated and colored, under
his-brazen stare.
“I had not made up my mind to buy,”
she said, “and—”
“Oh, but you must buy!” chattered
Captain Conforto. “You shall buy!
You can’t help buying in a place like
this, when I show you what we've got.”
And jumping around like an over¬
grown kangaroo, he unfolded some
coarse, high-colored, striped shawls,
one or two with a rivulet of white
seeming to meander over dull-red
grounds, and some that seemed to have
been out in a storm at sea and got
thoroughly stained with salt water.
Flora, however uneducated in tech¬
nicalities, was an artist at soul, and re¬
coiled from these gaudy abominations.
“I—I don’t quite like these," she
hesitated. "I do not think I will pur¬
chase to-day."
“Not like them!" echoed the sea-cap¬
tain—if sea-captain he was. “Not—
like them! Nobody ever said that
before to Leotard Conforto! I ain’t
used to be talked to in that there way.
But if the lady don’t like’em,she needn’t
to buy ’em. I ain’t obliged to put my
bargains down people’s throats, that I
ain’t!”
And he bustled around, muttering to
himself and tossing the things about,
LINCOLNTON, GA., FRIDAY, MARCH 23, 1883.
brushing past Miss Fountain very dis
agreeably once or twice as he did so.
Flora turned to go, but her fat guide
had unaccountably disappeared, and
she was obliged to retrace her steps as
best she could.
“At all events,” she said to tend,,
I'm glad I am well out ol that place.”
Making the best of her way up to
Third avenue, she entered a car to ride
home; but when she put her hand in
her pocket to pa, ho, fare, th, little
purse into whieh she had so carefully
packed her money was gone.
It flashed over her then, all in an
instant. Her pocket was picked; and
probably by Captain Leotard Comforto
himself
conductor, rontTrZ a stout, , ,, ? „ TtiT fatherly . old m ., man, ,,
who doubtless had daughters of his
own. _____ ., T 111 , n see that its all ngnt, and ,
you can pay me any time you please.”
bo rlora got home just m time to
burst out drying on her father’s
shoulder, and confess it all to his kindly
ear.
“Oh, papa, papa!” sobbed she. “I
have disobeyed you, and I never can
forgive myself I”
Mr. Fountain only patted her cheek
and kissed her. .
“Don’t fret, Flo,” said he. “We’ve
all got life’s lessons to learn, and ex¬
perience is a rigorous teacher.”
The police, sent to break up Captain
Conforto’s den in Margin Street, found
nothing and nobody there but a mild
old gentleman in spectacles, reading
the papers, who had charge of letting
the premises. He had never heard of
Captain Conforto—neither was the fat
woman, who had acted as volunt&r
guide to Flora, to be found up stairs or
down.
“It’s a bad block, this ‘ere,” said the
policeman, to Mr. Fountain. “They
calls it Swindle Row. But they're
that slippery here as nobody can lay a
finger on ’em!”
So began and ended poor Flora’s
dream of an India shawl. And the
delusion of worshipping Mrs. Penrith
Duke is wearing away also, especially
since that high-toned lady gave a
soiree dansante, and neglected to invite
Miss Fountain, observing, languidly,
that “one couldn’t fill one’s drawing¬
room with nobodies.”
And Flora has come to the conclu
sion that perhaps the Gates’, the
Plumers and the Hazels of life- are as
desirable as the Penrith Dukes.
Market Day in Normandy;
In Normanv you find almost in its
pristine vigor that ancient institution
the district fair, and market day wakes
into a perfect Babel the sleepiest of
little towns. From the market you
gain an excellent idea of the production
of the canton, and may form a pretty
fair estimate of the extent of its re¬
sources, the quality of its cereals, its
dairy produce, and its live stock, and
may even gather much of the character
and peculiarities of the people, whose
customs 'often differ materially even
from those of their not very remote
neighbors. But to see a market prop¬
erly it is necessary to arrive overnight
at your destination, and waiving all
idea of sleep,to secure a room overlook¬
ing the Grand Place.
From an early hour in the evening
and all through the night, arrive the
buyers and sellers in a con'inuous
stream, so that by early dawn the little
town is filled to overflowing. Open
carts, tilted wagons, long vehicles of
mysterious build, drawn by huge Nor¬
man horses, deposit merchandise oi
every description, and at the first streak
of daylight business opens, it may be,
with the sale of calves, to be followed
consecutively by that of poultry, pigs,
grain, hay, cattle, butter and vegeta¬
bles; and these various markets are
held not merely in the halls and in
two or three of the principle squares,
but in every street and alley, while later
in the day the aspect is that of a regu¬
lar fair. Booths of all kinds in increas¬
ing numbers spring up like mushrooms,
a red umbrella of Brobdingnag propor¬
tions doing duty for a tent; and serious
business being over, one sees the places
lately consecrated to bales of merchan¬
dise overspread with toys and chiffons
of all sorts, even to smart bonnets and
caps of latest provincial fashion.
Some productions will naturally be
always found, while the absence or
presence of others will be determined
by the prevailing culture of the dis
trict, fruit and vegetables, for in
stance, being splendid in some places,
whilst in others they scarcely approach
mediocrity. Pears are often immense,
and so are cabbages, while it is not at
all uncommon to see radis gris, which
the peasantry eat so largely, weighing
from two to three pounds each.
The rapid development of the lamb
and mutton export trade bids fair to
make sheep-raising one of the most
profitable occupations for the farmers
of New Brunswick. At present the
shipments generally go to jloston
FOB THE HARM ASH HOME.
Economy in Feeding Y'gn.
Economy in feeding,as well as all else
ls newss ary if we would realize the
greatest profit in making pork. More
f . , “ , T? „ . . . T
>»“'** *****
form > b ^ coking, than when fed raw,
the ^simulation is easy and more per
feet-and there is very much less waste.
» [ '“«! “
val «elcss when fed raw, but when
cooked become excellent and decidedly
fattening ’ Raw potatoes may be very
? °° das a regulator ’ but 38 a ^ are
D00r in fattening qualities. Cooked,
they become digestible, the starch in
them being put into an assimilable
f°™. Uncooked or raw, it is other
. , , Poorest
’ are a ™ 0ng
. kinds . of food for fattening
purposes.
Cooki th ' ' ’ esDeciallv ' when
• '
. . ,
Jhe nutritive , ... - of , . .
value . gram is very
j? r< i a - merea.se y coo'mg. en
j’ *
Dasses through ,, the stomach , , without ,
, , least . chemical . . , change, , and . quite ..
me °
* "fTTf , . , . , * , , . ?
*
gested. So also if meal is fed , uncook
- ed , and . dry, . merely , wet . with .... water.
or
When grain is cheaper than labor
and fuel, it may pay best not to cook
the grain. Whether, therefore, corn
should be cooked or fed raw, depends
ipon circumstances rather than upon
any arbitrary rules. The nearer to an
assimilable form any kind of grain is
put for feeding purposes, the more
economically it is fed, so far as gain,
flesh and fat are concerned. For this
reason grinding and feeding the meal
is better than feeding whole or un¬
ground. Pigs and other animals are
apt to feed greedily and not properly
masticate grain, and of course it is not
all digested. Hunger may be appeased,
but fat is not gained. A less quantity
put into a condition to be fully digested,
would add more to the gain of the ani¬
mal. As farmers usually feed pigs, it
may be set down as an assured fact
that there is a loss of from one-third to
one-half of the food, unless we reckon
the increased value of the manure,
which is an expensive way of adding
value to it.
In feeding meal, the miller’s toll must
be taken into account; also the expense
of taking to and from the mill, so that
the value of the food is relative, and
must be determined by circumstances.
As a substitute, under adverse circum¬
stances, soaking the grain in hot water
to a condition of softness will save the
miller’s toll, and make it profitable.
But in soaking it reference should be
had to weather, cold and clear weather
allowing of the longest soaking; hot
and bad weather favors early fermen¬
tation. In the first degree of fermen¬
tation an acid is formed which is most
palatable and healthful for the pigs.
Beyond this fermentation it is not
healthful, and when the vinous condi¬
tion is reached it is unfit for feeding.—
Couiltry Gentleman.
Short-Horn Cattle.
Lewis F. Allen, Esq., of Buffalo, N.
Y., has an article on this breed of cattle
in the Agricultural Review, in which
he says:
This unrivaled breed of cattle now
pervades, to more or less extent, every
State and Territory in the Union ex¬
cepting, perhaps, three or four of the
“Gulf” States, where few if any of the
improved breeds in any considerable
numbers are kept and bred. So im¬
portant an interest has been taken, and
such large amounts of capital invested
in them, that an elaborate history lias
been written and published in this
country relating to their , . origin, so far
as could be ascertained, and their
modern course of breeding for one hun¬
dred and fifty years anterior to the pre¬
sent time. Aside from that, numerous
pamphlets and memoranda relating to
them have been written since early in
the present century in Great Britain,
and followed by others in the United
States, since their first importations
which, under well-authenticated report
occurred soon after the Revolutionary
War, near the close of the last century
So accessible have been and still are
the most important of these
horn documents, that it is unnecessary
to particularly allude to them. There
are now " ’ tb ' n -''Lnericait l nion
and ^ be ^ anadas more than two thou
3and breeders and °'' ners these
cat ^ e a PP roved pedigree and line
a ® e ’ and also unsur P assed »
either in Great Britain or other coun
^ vbere t} l e y ba ' e b ® en neglected in that
im P ortant item of P roflt > occasional
cows crop out from the miscellaneous
b «rds of wonderful production in lac
teal yields ’ eve n s xt * v and mo * e P ounds
of milk given in . a single day for weeks
or months together, after the birth of
their progeny. At an advanced stage
in dairy use they make large carcases
of excellent beet, so that during an en
tire life of dairy excellence they have
proved profitable in a beef product. In
r
the history of most of the cows of an
tries where they have been introduced
and bred.
That jn ^ cornhined quaHties of
P®* . J,eld,n vieldinc anddair and dairy excellence ethf thev f
f? ? e ™^
have no rivals, poplritv is proved by their al
■»«« unit <™l njtaJ lotto brood
ood fertile erttto o( our corn,
try ; particularly for beef, in the West
and measurably so in many of the
dairy districts of the country where
high of their M have hero
en „ rafted jn the ati . C0W3 as we)1
as in cows of the purest blood and
genealogy. In England, the ancestral
cows of early days were large milkers
as well as flesh producers; and wheE
bred for dairy uses their descendants
J down 3 ™ retained to the present that valuable day; and 1 uallt even -'
^ ■ importation, 1 ’ sav from the veai
181 , '• and many years following,they
W'ere large milkers and butter yielders,
as well as heavy ; beef * producers; and,
if , in a majorit of th r descendants .
the lacteal quality has not predomin
ated, it is because that item has been
neglected . , , for . AI the immediate ,
more
profit of flesh m those sections of oui
States where beef was the chief ebjeet J
of their breeding ° and culture,
Icelandic Farinhoutfea.
The farmhouses (Bae) differ materi¬
ally from those of the town, being
built of lava blocks, with a turf cover
j m S f° r tf* 5 roof, secured by during flat stones
to prevent displacement the
violent winter storms. A bae is about
twelve feet in width by twenty in
length, but the larger ones comprise
several of these buildings joined to¬
gether, then including out-houses for
the storage of cattle, fodder, fuel and
produce. The low entrance at the
gable extends through the length of
the building, terminating at the kit¬
chen, where a raised hearth, about
three feet high, supplies all the arti¬
ficial heat. The chimney, simply a
hole in the roof, allows part of the
smoke to escape and admits a few rays
of light to that end of the building.
Alongside the fireplace the unfortunate
chickens roost and the store of peat and
the few culinary utensils occupy the
remainder of the limited space. On
either side of the passage-way there
are generally two rooms, one side being
used for storage purposes, the other
for a sleeping apartment. These rooms
have a bed or bunk on each side,
raised about two feet above the hard
ground floor, each bunk accommodating
several persons. A hole cut through
the wall, opposite the only window and
stopped by a plug, is intended for ven¬
tilation, but they told us that it is sel¬
dom used, the great desideratum being
heat at the smallest expenditure of
fuel. What these huts must be when
the drifting snow compels the occu¬
pants to close all the openings, and the
stifling smoke, such smoke as only
peat can make, combines with the odors
of live stock and dried fish, may better
be imagined than experienced. Turf,
the only fuel, is dug in all parts of the
surrounding lowlands, sometimes from
thesurfaee, but often from a depth of
ten or twelve feet, evidenced by the
deep pits along the roadside.
“Darling Nellie Gray.'’
A Cincinnati correspondent says:
There are few persons in the South
who have not heard and admired that
charming melody, “Darling Nellie
Gray,” and at one time it stood in the
I same rank with “Old Kentucky Home,”
and others of that class. It is less
known now, but in certain southern
sections "Nelly Gray” is as household
words, and in every list of plantation
1 songs it has an honored place. But to
j come to my * story. I was talking the
other dav t 0 a musicallv-inclined gen
tleman, whose practice on the violin ii?
a room near my own keeps me con¬
stantly striving not to do anything ot
a riotous nature, when we mentioned
the old song incidentally, and he told
me the author was his cousin, and that
| it had a little history.
The songwriter wasB. R. Hanbv, of
Westerville, Ohio, who was also a
p a , n t er>a musician, and a poet. When
he was aboHt Uventy years of age he
sometimes jotted down melodies which
struck him, and on one occasion the
!10 | e s of “Nellie Gray” went on paper,
alu | } 1( > afterward wrote the words. He
kad never published any music, and
was p U t aside where he could use
d ag ^j ie f anC y struck him.
Q ne n |ght a t a little company at his
jj 0Use( the song, among others, was
sung, and a gentleman present, being
struek the air, made some inquiry
a b 0 ut it, and the facts were given him,
He at once as fc e d the young composer
w hat it was worth, and Mr. Ilanby not
p eing posted, put the figure at $5 and
the trade was made. The new owner
ggt abcut having it p ub i ish ed; and
when it a pp eared it struck the popular
ta9te> aiu l over 200,000 copies were
S()1(L Another case of the history of
composers repeating itself, or rather of
one story, with the names pjianged,
being narrated of many.
dewitt talmadgksts length
OF LIFE.
Reasons Why it May be Bette* to Die
Yonng (bag to Lire to be Old.
“If any one dies in youth,” said Dr.
Talmage, “we say, ‘What a pity!’ If
one be in pleasant circumstances he
never wants to go. William Cullen
Bryant at eighty-two standing in my
house and reading ‘Thadatopsis’ with¬
out spectacles, was just as anxious to
live as when he wrote that immortal
threnody. Cato at ninty was afraid he
wouldn’t live to learn Greek. Thur
low Weed at eighty-nine found life as
great a pleasure as when he snuffed
out his first politician. I suppose that
Methusaleb at 966 was afraid to go out
in a storm and get his feet wet lest he
should shorten his days.”
Dr. Talmage said that if he were an
agnostic he would call a man blest ac¬
cording to the number of years he
could stay on terra firma. But, since
men believe in immortality, an abbre¬
viated existence on earth is a blessing
because it makes one’s life more com¬
pact. Some men can do their day’s work
; n ten hours, some in five, and some in
one; and, other things being equal, the
man is to be congratulated who can
get through his work in one hour. If
a person dies at five years he gets
through his work at nine in the morn¬
ing; if he dies at fourty he gets through
at noon; if he dies at seventy he gets
through at five in the afternoon, and ii
he dies at ninety he has to toil up to
eleven o’clock at night.
“All we ought to be anxious about is
to get our work done, and well done,”
said Dr. Talmage, “and the sooner the
better. The number of men who fall
into ruin between fifty and seventy
rears of age is simply appalling. If
they had died at thirty it would have
been better for themselves and for
their families. The great temptation
of a man’s life sometimes comes far qn
in middle life. At about fourty-five
years of age a man’s nervous system
changes. By the advice of some friend
he takes stimulant to keep him up, and
he goes on taking stimulant until it
keeps him down. Concerning a vast
multitude, it seems as if it would be
better for them to embark from this
earth early in life. Why do so manj
die before they are thirty years old?
Because God sees the storm coming up
from the Caribbean and runs them
into the first harbor. If a soldier who
has been on guard all night is glad
when some one comes to relieve him,
ought not that man to shout for joy
who can put down his weapons and go
into the King's castle?”
Illustrating how men escape perils
early in life and fall with them later,
Dr. Talmage said : “The first time I
crossed the Atlantic ocean it was as
smooth as a mill pond, and I wrote a
magazine on the calm sea If I hadn’t
written it then, before I crossed the
ocean again, I never could have written
it.”
Another reason why it is a blessing
to die early, Dr. Talmage said, is be¬
cause those who die in youth escape so
many earthly bereavements. He enu¬
merated some of the sorrows whieh
King David would have escaped if he
had been taken from life in youth, and
said that he would have also escaped
the crimes of uncleanness and murder.
•‘When God takes little children,” the
preacher continued, lie usually takes
the brightest. Why? Because they
would have the greatest capacity for
suffering if permitted to live.”
“Again, to die early in life,” Dr. Tal¬
mage said, “brings one so much the
sooner to the centre of things. All
astronomers agree that the universe
swings around some great centre.
God’s favorite figure in geometry is the
circle. Somewhere is the great hub
around which the wheel of the uni¬
verse turns, and that is Heaven. Our
standpoint in this world is defective.
We are at the end of the telescope.
We are down in the cellar of life, and
yet trying to scan the broad heavens
of immortality, while our departed
Christian friends have gone up stairs
to study it. The child who died at five
years of age a few days ago, at whose
funeral I officiated, knows more to-day
of God than Andover or Princeton or
Edinburgh or all the theologians of the
world. Yet men are rushing around
among the apothecaries, wondering if
this medicine is good for neuralgia,
and that for rheumatism, and others
for other diseases, lest they should be
suddenly ushered into heaven. Men
ought not to go around groaning be
cause another year is gone. We ought
to bo living not according to the old
maxim, which says men should live as
though every day might be their last,
but as though we were to live forever.
But don’t let us be nervous lest we
should have to move out of a shanty
Into an Alhambra.”
A rnrtv advertises for a servant *An who
must sleep on the premises. ex
policeman fill or the a bill. private Nevr watchman
might — Orleans
Picayune
PUBLISHERS.
NO. 23.
SCIENTIFIC SCRAPS.
The rate of vibrations of the rattle¬
snake's tail has been determined bj
Dr. Ott to be sixty per second. The
method of experiment was to attach a
pen to the snake’s rattles, the record
being received on a revolving drum.
The sand of the Sahara desert is
sometimes heated to a temperature of
200 degrees, by the vertical rays of the
sun. This gives rise to a scorching
wind—the dreaded simoon—which is
rendered still more terrible by the
burning particles of sand it carries
along.
Large quantities of pottery are
manufactured in Brazil from the hard,
silicious bark of the caraipe tree. In
the process the ashes of the bark are
powdered and mixed with the purest
clay that can be obtained from the beds
of the rivers—this kind being preferred,
as it takes up a larger quantity of the
ash, and thus produces a stronger kind
of ware.
The tensile strength of glass has
been shown to be between 2,000 and
),000 pounds per square inch, and the
crushing strength between 6,000 and
10,000 pounds per square inch. By
trials a short time ago, M. Traulionie
found that flooring-glass one inch
square and one foot between the end
supports breaks under a load of 170
pounds.
Barrels have for some time been
made of pulp, but with the heads
separate, and held in place by hoops.
By a recent invention, according to
the Ohio Leader, Mark L. Deering, of
that city, makes the entire barrel in one
piece, and without hoops. The wood
pulp is placed inside, an iron cylinder
which is caused to revolve in a direc¬
tion around the axis of the barrel, Mid
also in a direction at right angles to
the axis. This distributes the material,
when air, at a pressure of 100 pounds,
forcing the water out through small
holes provided for the purpose. Drying
completes the barrel.
PEARLS OF THOVGHT. ,,-j
Moderation in temper is always a
virtue, but moderation in principle is
a species of vice.
We should not injure others in char¬
acter, because it enriches us not, but
makes them poor indeed.
Reason like time, will make its own
way, and prejudice will fail in the
combat with intellect.
There is no rule more invariable than
that we are paid for our suspicions bv
finding what we suspect.
Nature has given us two ears and
but one tongue, in order that we may
repeat but one-half of what we hear.
What makes many persons discon¬
tented with their own condition is the
absurd idea they form of the happiness
of others.
There is a power in the direct glance
of a sincere and loving soul, which will
do more to dissipate prejudice arid
kindle charity than the most elaborate
arguments.
Our greatest glory is not in never
falling, but in rising every time wo
fall. A gem is not polished without
rubbing, nor is a man perfected without
trials.
The Brain a Central Station.
It is a well-known fact that the peo¬
ple whose limbs have been amputated
tell you that they can feel their fingers
and toe's for a long time afterward—
for years, sometimes—and will even
describe pain and definite sensations as
affecting certain joints of individual
digits. This is readily understood
when we remember that the brain is
the only part of the body that feels all
sensations and impulses being conveyed
to it from different parts by nerve
fibres. Feelings of pain, heat, cold,
touch and the functions of the special
senses are telegraphed to; and when
the connecting nerve is divided it may
be some time before it learns to localize
truly the seat of the sensation it ap¬
preciates. When we knock our “funny
bones” we experience a thrill in the
little finger and inner border of the
hand; the telegraph wire, known as the
ulnar nerve—which transmits sensa¬
tions from that finger and part of the
next, in the middle of its course, as it
winds round the joint.— Chamber’s
Journal.
The wool manufacturing establish¬
ments of the United States now number
2,084, with a capital of 1159,644,870.
They give employment to 75,884 men
and 85,664 women and children. The
average paid each toiler is 8293.05 :%
year, or $34,42 a month. These mills
consume 296,192,229 pounds of wool, of
which 222,991,531 are of homo produce
tion, and 53,200,698 pounds come from
abroad. The average cost of the wool
is thirty-two cents a pound. The menu,
factories make a profit of thirty-six and
one-half per cent, on the capital in¬
vested, clew of all expenses.