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the jays; but what care they ? They are out of
her reach, and that is all they care for. Thus
they can and will provoke the cat as much as
they please: not that they care anything for
bird or mouse, not they. They would really
rather see something caught than not, if that
something could be caught without gratifying
the cat. Don’t tell me about these jay-birds. I
have known them of old, and there is nothing
good in them. They are a mean, malicious, en
vious, revengeful, bawling, squalling set—the
snobs of bird society—the mischief-workers of
the feathered community. They’ll lie, and cheat,
and steal, and debauch, and corrupt, and then
hold up their heads with the impudence of the
devil, and claim to be the upper ten in birddom.
[Note. —Reader, do you say I am prejudiced
againsfjays? Probably I am—indeed I know
I am. When I was a child, the negroes used to
tell me that these birds went to Tophet—(only
you know what a negro in his plain speech would
call Tophet)—went to Tophet every Friday in j
the week to carry wood to burn sinners. Old
uncle Dick was the chief of those who dealt in ,
signs, wonders, legends and Actions. He told !
me more about the jays than any one else.
“ But, uncle Dick,” said I, “ how do the jays
carry wood to h no, Tophet?”
It was Friday when I asked this question, and
uncle Dick was at work in the garden.
“ Why,” replied he, “ they carry the wood in I
their mouths.”
Just at that time a jay Aew down near us, and '
gathered a twig in her mouth. I know now, but
did not know then, that it was for the purpose
of building her nest
“There,” continued uncle Dick, “don’t you
see that jay-bird has got some wood now to carry
down to h— ?”
I shrank back with awe and dread. Uncle
Dick chuckled at the amusement he had furnish
ed himself at my expense, and my prejudice was
fully established against jays. I plead guilty to
the prejudice, but contend that what I say
about the jays is nevertheless true.]
But can I not see and hear something else be
sides the jays ? Oh! yes. I see that dim out
line of yonder skirt of wood, as it looms up
through the misty darkness. I behold the wide
spreading oak and the majestic pine, that tow
ers up towards heaven. In the top of the pine I
see the mists and the fogs gathering, like argo
sies of sailing clouds, wrecked upon the breakers
in the ocean of ether.
Away to the left I hear the hoarse cawing of
some solitary crow, At bird, dressed in sombre
black as he is, to croak the requiem of departing
day. The clouds and the mists gather in thick
ening array, and the shadows of evening begin
to marshal their hosts, coming like a slow and
soleran-paced army to unite with the murky fogs,
that rejoice as the god of day sinks upon his
blackened couch, and prepares to draw the sable
curtains of night. It is December!
■
LIVERPOOL—THE PORT OF THE WORLD.
A recent number of Chambers' Journal con
tained an article embodying some interesting
facts regarding Liverpool, the greatest seaport
of England and of the world. It appears that
in 1857 nearly ono half of all the produce ex
ported from England were shipped from this
port. Out of £122,000,000 of exportation,
£52,000,000 were exported from Liverpool,
about half that amount from London, sixteen
millions from Hull, and the rest from Glasgow,
Southampton, Ac. The population, within four
miles of the Exchange, at the present time, is
about 000,000, and the rato of annual increase
about 10,000. The property and income tax
paid by the inhabitants in 1857, amounted to up
wards of £7,000,000 or $35,000,000. The
amount of tonnage belonging to the port in the
same year, was 036,022 tons, being greater by
76,882 tons than that of London itself. The
amount of shipping which entered and cleared
during the same year, was upwards of nine mil
lions tons. Os the vessels which arrived from
abroad, the United States sent by far the lar
gest and most numerous, viz: 934 ships, of an
average burthen of more than one thousand tons.
There were from Italy 174 vessels, from Russia
102, and from France 317.
One great branch of the shipping business of
Liverpool is the shipment of emigrants to for
eign and colonial countries. The tide of German
emigration, even now, Aows through England
and escapes through Liverpool, in preference to
Hamburg and Bremen. Os the 212,875 British
emigrants in 1857, nearly 156,000 sailed from
this port. Os the above number, the United
States attracted 126,905, British America 21,-
000, and Australia 61,248. The number of emi
grants who left the shores of Great Britain from
1815 to 1857 was upwards of four millions and
a half.
The pride of Liverpool is her docks, which
cover a space of no less than four hundred acres
of water along the Mersey. They extend on the
Liverpool side of the river a distance of Ave
miles, and two miles oft’ the Birkenhead side.—
The sea wall along the Liverpool side, by which
the shipping in the dock is preserved from wind
and storms, is one of the greatest works of any
age. Its length is upwards of Ave miles, its
average thickness eleven feet, and its average
height from the foundations forty feet. Great
difficulty was experienced in gaining * stable
foundation for this great’ structure, and thou
sands of piles were driven and many great
beams of timber sunk to secure a firm bottom.
Upwards of eighty pairs of gigantic gates have
been put up within the last thirty years, and
some of them reach to the unparalleled width of
one hundred feet.
— -»•«- - —-
Speed of Light—lmmensity of tiie Uni
verse.—Light traverses space at the rate of a
million miles a minute, yet the light from the
nearest star requires ten years to reach the
earth, and Herschel’s telescope revealed stars
two thousand three hundred times further dis
tant. The great telescope of Lord Ross pursued
these creations of God still deeper into space,
and having resolved the nebuhe of the milky
way into stars, discovered their systems of stars
—beautiful diamond points glittering through
the black darkness beyond. When he beheld
this amazing abyss—when he saw these systems
scattered profusely throughout space—when he
refiected upon their immense distance, their
enormous magnitude, and the countless millions
of worlds that belonged to them, it seemed to
him as though the wild dream of the German
poet was more than realized.
—i
Fate of Inventors. —Henry Colt, the inven
tor of the process by which cast iron is convert
ed into wrought, died miserably poor, his chil
dren receiving only £IOO a year from the Brit
ish Government. Fitch, who has disputed with
Fulton the honor of first applying steam to the
propulsion of vessels, was driven by poverty to
kill himself, while Fulton himself was worried
to death by litigation and poverty, and his chil
dren have hardly realized one-third of the
$70,000 given them by Congress. John Walker,
the accidental discoverer of the friction match,
and Ariel Cooley, who simplified and cheapened
the manufacture, both realized large fortunes
and died wealthy.
xkk somm kxk&b am vxkksxsr.
[For the Southern Field and Fireside.]
A SONG OF GRATITUDE.
Father! teach me how to thank Thee,
For Thy many gifts to me;
Oh, my heart would fain adore Thee,
In its weakness, fervently.
First of earthly gifts—my husband!
Oh for words to s;>eak his praise—
Words to tell how kindly, gently,
He hath cheered my wear}- days!
\\ eeks and months—aye, years of suffering
Hath it been my lot to bear,
Sinee the fond vow we recorded —
Each the other's grief to share.
Oft, since then, hath Death's dread angel
Hovered darkly o'er my bed;
While Disease, the dower of mortals,
Hack'd with pain my burning head.
Still a lov'd form, bending o'er me,
Laid a cool hand on my brow,
I Ever}- touch and tone fulfilling
Oh, how well! the bridal vow.
Often have his prayers ascended
When no words his lips could frame.
And with holy fervor pleading,
Ere he ceased—the blessing came!
fame like dews of heaven, falling
Gently on a withering flower.
Lifting up the Aided petals
With a vivifying power.
And a holy quiet, stealing
O'er me, fill'd my aching breast.
While I knew my trusting spirit
With such warm devotion blest.
And my children! little darlings!
With their dark and dove-like eyes,
Lighting up with joy our bosoms,
As the stars the twilight skies;
Arthur—Lula —priceless treasures!
Heavenly Father! hear our prayer:
Giant their weak, dependent childhood
May not want a mother's care!
Spare them to us, oh our Father!
Guide their young hearts unto Thee,
✓ Writing on each gentle spirit,
Meekness, Truth, and Purity!
Fold us all beneath Thy pinion,
Covered by Thy guardian love,
And grant, whate'er betide us here,
A home, at last, with Thee above 1
A Ministkr's Wll'B.
Hamilton Co., Fla.
♦♦♦
[For the Southern Field and Fireside.]
WASHINGTON IRVING.
In the early part of last month, we were
grieved to hear that the venerable literary pa
triarch of Sunnyside was no more. The news,
though unwelcome, was not wholly unexpected.
The ripe old age to which he had attained, and
his rapidly increasing debility during the last
few years, had long before convinced us that
there would soon be nothing of him left in the
land save the memory of his name, and the im
perishable monuments of his genius. It is of the
author, rather than of the man, that we now
wish to speak. With the general outlines of his
life, almost every one is familiar. Every one
has, within the last month, seen it stated in a
brief newspaper paragraph how, in his early
manhood, he published a magazine in copart
nership with his brother; how he made two
protracted visits to Europe, and how, for many
years, he has enjoyed a peaceful and dignified
retirement among the highlands of the Hudson.
But we fear that the rising generation are far
less conversant than they should be, with the
productions of his pen. Later, though lesser,
lights have for a time eclipsed his brilliance,
and engrossed too large a share of public admi
ration.
Mr. Irving had long been the acknowledged
head of the literary men of America. To this
rank he was fully entitlod by the number and
character of his works—Cooper, perhaps, ex
cepted. No American has been so voluminous,
and none have approached him in eloquence of
style. The easy gracefulness of his periods, the
harmc-iious flow of his sentences, and his per
fect mastery of language, gave a polish to every
subject which he handled. It could not be said
of him, as it was said of his illustrious proto
type, Goldsmith, that “he touched every de
partment of letters, and touched none which he
did not adornbut it can be said, with perhaps
more of truth, that of the many kinds of litera
ture in which he tried his skill, he excelled in
all. His droll humor and quaint wit are incom
parable. As an essayist, he was always pleas
ing, and generally instructive; and he possessed,
in an eminent degree, the essential qualities of
the historian and biographer. In romance and
poetry he might have failed, but it is one of the
highest marks of his good sense, that he attempt
only thoso departments of literature in which
his genius fitted him to excel.
The two English authors whom Irving most
resembled, and with whom he may be best com
pared, are Addison and Goldsmith. His rank,
as compared with these two, will be different
with different persons, according to the estima
tion in which these are held. We think him
less grave, perhaps less sensible, than Addison,
though more luminous in his stylo, more viva
cious and more versatile. His sentences are
more unstudied, his wit seems more spontane
ous. One is pleased with Irving at the first
reading; Addison has to be studied to be appre
ciated. Between Irving and Goldsmith there is
a much nearer resemblance. Os the two, the
mass of readers would pronounce the former
the better writer, but we give a very slight pre
ference to the latter. All of Irving’s writings
are adorned with beauties, which do not wholly
conceal the art by which they have been pro
duced. But the poor little Doctor, “ who wrote
like an angel and talked like a fool,” seemed ut
terly unconscious that he was practising an art.
To judge from his writings aloue, we would sup
pose him entirely ignorant of that jugglery of
authorship. Hence his writings possess, in a
higher degree than those of any other author,
that elegant simplicity which at once charms
and flatters the reader. We are conscious that
he is a very entertaining fellow, but we have an
idea that, in some way, we aid him in making
his points, and that even his best conceits might
have been ours, had our thoughts have taken
that direction. Goldsmith is a companion
whose jests we laugh at, and whose good say
ings we heartily enjoy; but we never think of
him as being in aught our superior. Irving, too,
is an agreeable companion; but in his case, es
teem for the friend is largely mixed with rever
ence for the teacher.
As an author, Irving was far more than ordi
narily successful. The very first volume which
he published, was received with a degree of pub
lic favor which a writer of established character
might have envied, and every succeeding work
brought him fame and remuneration. ■ He lived
to become a classic —lived to witness the ebb
which succeeds the first tide of popular favor,
and saw his productions enrolled by a gene
ration of impartial critics among the standard
works of our literature. It happened to him,
as it happened to some others, that his works of
least intrinsic value brought him most reputa-
tion. Even now, most of his admirers base
their admiration upon his -‘Legend of Sleepy
Hollow,” or his “History of New York.” Pos
terity will, however, reverse this. A hundred
years hence, his “Sketch-Book,” “Tales of a
Traveler,” “Bracebridge Hall,” and “Alhambra,”
will have been supplanted by later tales and
stories, better suited to the changed tastes; but
his “ Life of Mahomet,” “ Life of Goldsmith,”
“ L’fe of Columbus,” and, above all, his incom
parable “Life of Washington,” will be Yead,
studied and admired, as long as the English
language exists. V.
Crawfordsville, Ga.
THE BURIAL OF WASHINGTON.
We have seen a copy of the Ulster County
Gazette , of Ulster connty, New York, of the date
of January 4th, 1800. The paper is dressed in
mourning for the death of George Washington, •
and contains the action qf Congress in relation
thereto, the address of President Adams to the
Senate of the United States, touching the melan
choly event that had clothed a nation in mourn
ing, together with the description by the editor
of the burial, which we publish herewith:
WASHINGTON ENTOMBED.
George Town, Dec. 20.
On Wednesday last, the mortal part of
WASHINGTON the GREAT—the Father of
his Country and the Friend of Man—was con
signed to the tomb with solemn honors and fune
ral pomp.
A multitude of persons assembled from many
miles around, at Mount Vernon, the choice abode
and last residence of the illustrious chief.
There were the groves, the spacious avenues,
the beautiful and sublime scenes, the noble man
sion—but, alas 1 the august inhabitant was wrw
no more. That great soul was gone. His mortal
part was there, indeed; but ah 1 how affecting!
how awful the spectacle of such worth and great
ness, thus to mortal eyes fallen 1 Yes 1 fallen 1
fallen 1
In the long and lofty portico, where oft the
hero walked in all his glory, now lay the shroud
ed corpse. The countenance, still composed and
serene, seemed to express the dignity of the
spirit which lately dwelt in that lifeless form.—
There those who paid the last sad honors to the
benefactor of his country, took an impressive, a
farewell view.
On the ornament at the head of the coffin, was
inscribed, Surge ad Judicium —about the mid
dle of the coffiu, Gloria Deo —and on the silver
plate,
General
GEORGE WASHINGTON,
Departed this life on the 14th of December,
1799, M. 68.
Between three and four o’clock the sound of
artillery from a vessel in the river, firing minute
guns, awoke afrosh our solemn sorrow the
corpse was moved—a band of music with mourn
ful melody melted the soul into all the tender
ness of woe.
The procession was formed and moved on in
the following order:
Cavalry, 1
Infantry, [- With arms reversed.
Guard, )
Music.
Clergy.
The General's horse, with his saddle, holsters
and pistols.
<n r i
Cols. == 0 Cols.
Simms, S? J JO . Gilpin,
Ramsay, 5 S Marsteller,
Payne, a a 3 Little.
>. j
Mourners.
Masonic Brethren.
Citizens.
When the procession had arrived at the bot
tom of the elevated law r n on the banks of the
Potomac, where the family vault is placed, the
infantry marched toward the Mount and formed
their lines, the clergy, the Masonic brothers, and
the citizens, descended to the vault, and the fu
neral service of the church was performed. The
firing was repeated from the vessel in the river,
and the sounds echoed from the woods and hills
around.
Three general discharges by the infantry, the
cavalry,and eleven pieces of artillery,which lined
the bank of the Potomac, back of the vault,
paid the last tribute to the entombed Command
er-in-Chief of the Armies of the United States
and to the departed Hero.
—% t >
The Washington Monument. —The National
Intelligencer says:
Wo understand that the managers of the Na
tional Washington Monument have adopted a
resolution to appeal to the patriotism of the State
government to aid them in their noble efforts to
rear a grand monument to the name and fame of
Washington, at the seat of government; and
with that view have already addressed a letter to
the Government of several States, requesting
them to lay their applications before the respect
ive Legislatures now in session or soon to as
semble. We invoke for this appeal of tho mana
gers the responsive sympathies and generous
support of all patriotic hearts in our legislative
assembles. The young sister State on the Pacif
ic, California, has already,it will be remembered,
volunteered a contribution to the noble work.
-
Washington’s Appointment as Commander.
—On Thursday, the 15th of June, two days be
fore the battle of Bunker’s Hill, George Wash
ington was chosen Commander-in-Chief of “ all
tho continental forces raised, or to be raised, for
the defence of American liberty." The appoint
ment was officially announced to him on the fol
lowing day, and modestly accepted; and on the
eighteenth he wrote a touching letter to his wife
on the subject, telling lieehe must depart imme
diately for the camp; begging her to summon
all her fortitude, and to pass her time as agreea
bly as possible; and expressing a firm reliance
upon that Providence which had ever been
bountiful to him, not doubting that he should re
turn safe to her in the fall. But he did not so
return. Darker and darker grew the clouds of
war; ani, during more than seven years, Wash
ington visited his pleasant home on the Potomac
but once, and then only for three days and nights.
Mrs. Washington spent the winter in camp with
her husband; and many are the traditions con
cerning her beauty, gentleness, simplicity, and
industry, which yet linger around the winter
quarters of the venerated Commander-in-Chief of
the armies of the Revolution. For many long
years she was remembered with affection by the
dwellers at Cambridge, Morristown, Valley Forge,
Newburgh and New Windsor. When, on each
returning spring, she departed for her home on
the Potomac, the blessings of thousands—sol
diers and citizens—went with her, for she was
truly loved by all. — [Mount Vernon and its Asso
ciations.
—^at *
Beautiful Extract: Helping a young lady out
of a mud puddle.
CHILDREN'S COLUMN.
[For the Southern Field and Fireside.]
Selections from mg Portfolio.
LITTLE WILLIE.
BY MRS. E. I. SAXON.
The chair of an invalid mother was drawn to
her cottage door, and she sat looking out on the
smooth sandy road. She had let fall her work,
and her hands were clasped wearily over her
knee. She was thinking of the time when her
feet ran lightly over the road or played in her
father’s orchard, which had now passed into the
hands of strangers, and he slumbered with her
husband’neath the clods of tho valley; but for
her little boy she, too, would have longed to lie
down in the quiet grave by their side.
“ What is the matter, mother ? does your side
hurt you ?” asked a bright-faced boy that sat on
the steps near her feet.
“ No, my boy, I was only longing to walk up
the road and to the spring under the poplar, the
days are so beautiful I am weary of the house,
and long to be out in the sweet spring sun
shine.
“Never mind, mother,” he cried, hopefully, as
he rose and came to her side. “ When I am a
man I will have a fine horse and buggy just like
Mr. Campbell’s, and I will take you to ride eve
ery day. I shall work hard and buy a tomb
stone for father’s grave, and we will put it among
the flowers I have planted there.”
Happy Willie, Hope was singing and he lis
tened to her song. He little thought that in a
few short months the failing form of his affection
ate mother would be straightened in tho narrow
coffin and become food for worms. She was al
ready smitten with consumption; and was has
tening to the grave. We see him next an ac
tor in the closing scene. * *
The window was raised that tho cool night
breeze might fan the brow of tho now dying
mother.
“ Is Willie here, where is he?” she asked ear
nestly.
“ Here I am, mother, can’t you see me ?” he
asked.
The eye was filmy in death, but her hand
wandered to his head, and she drew it down up
on his bosom, while she said earnestly:
“ Willie, you must never forget the prayers I
have taught you, and whenever you feel tempted
to do wrong, remember my dying counsel, strive
to become a good and useful man, and always
remember that your mother is waiting to meet
you in heaven.” Her hand slid from its resting
place, and her son looked up to mark the fearful
change that flitted over her face.
“ Look at me, mother, speak to me, call me
Willie once more—only once more,” lie said in a
tone of pleading anguish.
That cry had pierced the fast closing ear of
death, and she whispered—
“ Willie, darling Willie. ”
A smile flitted over her face, and in this last
effort of affection, the soul had departed on its
homeward flight
I stood with orphaned Willio by the coffin
where he looked for the last time on his dead
mother. He laid his face, white as that of the
the dead, close to her stiffened cheek—kisses un
numbered fell on the lifeless lips and sightless
eyes—he folded back the border of the cap, and
bending down, pressed his lips reverently on the
bands of satin hair he had once so loved to comb.
His gasping, tearless sobs seemed as if they
would rend his young bosom. When the clods
struck upon the boards above her coffin, he bow
ed his face to his knees, and such a cry of an
guish burst from his young lips, as I hope nev
er to hear again from the stricken heart of child
hood.
*****
Willie is no lougor littlo Willie. Should this
fragment meet his eye,nowthaLhe stands in the
pride of his honorable and useful manhood, he
will remember his own touching words to me:
“ I never pray, but 1 fancy mother’s hand is on
my head. When I err—and who does not err?
—I hear her whispering repooachfully, ‘ Willie,
Willie 1’ She was to me the dearest and most
beautiful of created beings, and whatever I am
that is respectable and honored, or may in after
life become, will be owing to my reverence for
and obedience to her—my adherence to the prin
ciples she inculcated in my childish mind, and
no human words can ever impress me so solemn
ly and indelibly for my good us my dying moth
er’s “ Willie, darling Willie.”
ENIGMA XXL
I am composed of twenty-five letters, viz:
My 25, 4, 17, 16, the beginning of Wisdom.
“ 20, 14. 8, 2,15, 16, the duty of children to
parents and of all to God.
“ 14,13, 9, 21, to do which is better than sac
rifice.
“ 20, 14, 1, 10. 8,9, 22, 18, the purest state of
man.
“ 16, 23, 1, 10, 11,10, 2,8, the pearl of great
price.
“ 5,9, 17, 16, 22, a sign of joy, sorrow, or any
strong emotion.
“ 17, 8, 11,15, 10,18, 20, fills the cup of tho
impenitent.
“ 20, 4, 17, 3,9, 8, the happiest of all homes.
6,23, 24, 1, the most miserable of all abodes.
My whole is a great command of our blessed
Saviour.
Wylie A, Mason, of Tuskegee, Ala.
ENIGMA XXII.
I am composed of twenty letters:
My 4,7, 18, 14, 20, name of ono of tho planets.
“ 5, 12, 19, 15, 9, 18. a near relative.
“ 1, 12, 19, 15, an insect.
“8, 4, 11, 3,9, 18, 14, the last course at a din
ner-table.
“ 8,4, 11, 9, 18, 14, a dreary waste.
“ 2,9, 4,8, a species of cane.
‘ 10, 7,1, 4, a noun.
“ 3,17, 13, 19, 15, a point of the compass.
“ 6,9, 7,8, 12, 16, a pasture or grass land.
My whole is the name of a distinguished
American authoress.
Mary, of Albany Geo.
ENIGMA XXIII.
I am composed of twenty-five letters:
My 17, 1,8, 9, a welcome sight at sea.
“ 9, 18, 4, 22, part of a ship.
“2,7, 9, 21,8, man’s greatest blessing.
“ 23, 12, 15, 25, 13, the poetic seat of Love.
“ 10,14, an interjection.
“ 14, 12, 25, a pronoun.
“ 19, 5, 24, 25, a kind of animal.
“2, 3,16, a covering for the head.
“ 4, 21, 2, a useful tool.
“ 20, 1,8, a useful article.
“ 11, 3, 10,19, what we should be to one an
other.
My whole is a proverb of Solomon.
Y. C. D, of Oxford.
Enigma received from W. X.. of Wash
ington, Ga.
yap Enigma and Charade received from
Robert.
— «
Enigma received from Julien Mayfield
of Augusta.
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, ETC., OF LAST WEEK.
To Euigma X\ III.: Respect your parent*.
To Enigma XIX.: William U. Crawford.
To Enigma XX.: Charlestown.
I Answer to Enigma XIII.. received from Wy
-1 l»e A. M., of Tuskegee, Ala.; from V. C. D.. of
Oxford, Ga.
Answer to Enigma XIV., from Wylie A. M..
from V. C. D., and Carrie E. 8., of Coweta, Ga.
Answer to Enigma XV., from Wylie A. M.
Answer to Enigma XVI., from M. R. P., of
Mobile; W. Laurens Ligon, of Atlanta, Ga.
Answer to Enigma XVII., from M. R. P.; W.
i Laurens Ligon.
Answer to Enigma XVIII., from Clayroot,
Edgefield, S. C.
Answer to Enigma XIX., from Fanny, of
Washington, Ga.; from Clayroot.
Answer to Enigma XX., from C. C. Carey, of
Augusta, Ga.; Fannie, of Washington, Ga.:
from Clayroot.
Answer to Charade 11., from M. R. P„ of Mo
bile.
Answer to Riddle Xo. 2, (by Connasena.)
from M. R. P.
IST Thanks to Wylie A. Mason, of Tuske
gee, Ala., for his Enigma, (XXL,) and for his
wish for “a happy New Year” tous, with all
success to “77<e Field and Fireside"— and for
the substantial proof given by him that his
good wishes in our behalf came from a little
deeper than his lips. His letter contained the
names of two new subscribers, with $4 to pay the
year’s subscription for them. We would so like to
receive riddles with such accompaniments, (rid
dles and rhino— don’t they sound well together,
boys ?) from all the boys in the land I If they’d
do that, we’d give the children a page full per
week, instead of a column of just such matter
as they like—or ought to like—even if we had.
to publish weekly a supplement just for their
accommodation. Suppose you try, boys, to put
us to that expense 1 Wouldn’t it look well!
Just think! “Children’s Weekly Supplement to
The Southern Field and Fireside ." Why, there
wouldn’t be another paper in the country, or in
the world, doing that.
Fun at Home.— Don’t be afraid of a little fun
at home, good people 1 Don’t shut up your
house lest the sun should fade your carpets;
and your hearts, lest a hearty laugh should
shake down some of the musty old cobwebs
there 1 If you want to ruin your sons, let them
think that all mirth and enjoyment must be left
on the threshold without, when they come home
at night. When once a home is regarded as
only a place to eat, drink and sleep in, the work
is begun that ends in gambling houses and reck
less degradation. Young people must have fun
and relaxation somewhere; and if they do not
find it at their own hearth-stones, it will be
sought in other, and perhaps less profitable pla
ces. ■ Therefore, let the fire burn brightly at
night, and make tho home nest delightful with
all those little arts that parents so perfectly un
derstand. Don’t repress the buoyant spirits of
your children; half an hour of merriment around
the lamp and firelight of home blots out the re
membrance of many a care and annoyance dur
ing the day, and the best safeguard they can
take with them into the world is the unseen in
fluence of a bright little domestic sanctum.—
Life Illustrated.
A Chapter ox Funs.—As the season for
the wearing of furs is at hand, the follow
ing will be found of interest :
Furs are the skins of different animals, cov
ered, for the most part, with thick, fine hair, the
inner side being converted, by peculiar process,
into a sort of leather; and previously to their
undergoing this process, furs are denominated
peltry. Beaver fur, from its extensive use in
the hat manufacture, is a very important article,
and found principally in this country; it is grad
ually becoming scarcer and dearer, being now
obtainable in considerable quantities only from
the most northerly and inaccessible regions.
The fur of the middle aged or young animal,
called cub beaver, is most esteemed; it is the
finest, most glossy, and takes the best dye.
Fitch, or the fur of tho fitchet or polecat, is soft
and warm, but tho unpleasant smell which ad
heres to it depresses its value. Marten and
mink, a diminutive species of otter, are found in
large quantities in Canada and this country, as
is also the fur of the musquish or muskrat, a
diminutive species of beaver. Nutra skins are
very abundant in Buenos Ayres. The most
valuable furs, as ermine, sable, Ac,comb princi
pally from Russia.
——
Prayers for the President. —A prayer for
the President of the United States has been in
troduced into the English Church at Geneva,
Switzerland. It seems that the English chapel
is the only church in Geneva, in which service
is conducted in the English language. In this
church, therefore, the resident Americans and
American boys at the school in the city repair
for worship. An account states that the pastor,
Rev. Mr. Dawnton, is appointed by the bishop
of London, and has always, in the beautiful ser
vice of his church, prayed for the reigning fam
ily of England, and the public authorities of
Switzerland. A request was lately made to him
by the American Consul at Geneva, to include
in the prayers of the public service on the Sab
bath, the name of “ the President of the United
States of America." To this request Mr. Dawn
ton replied that ho would do so with great pleas
ure, if he could get the permission of the Bishop
of London. The enlightened and liberal prelate
gave his assent, and now, on every Sabbath, a
hearty “Amen” goes up from many a heart to
the prayer for the “ President of the United
States of America.”
—-*»■*■ -i
Jupiter. —This magnificent planet is now rap
idly approaching that position in relation to the
earth and sun, m which it presents its finest
aspect to us. Being one of the superior planets,
which revolve in orbits exterior to the earth, it
is of course nearer the earth in opposition than
in conjunction by the distance across the earth's
orbit, viz: two hundred millions of miles. Be
sides this, it shines all night, rising about sun
set, and blotted out by the dawn while yet sev
eral degrees from its settling. The present po
sition of the planet is in the constellation, Gem
ini, or the twins, not far from the meridian of
Sirius, the brightest of the fixed stars, and close
ly preceded by the finest constellation in all the
heavens, Orion; so that we have, and shall have
throughout the winter, in juxtaposition, the
nightly company of this splendid galaxy—Ju
piter, in liis brightest, Sirius or the Greater Dog,
Capella, Castor and Pollux, Procyon, or the Lit
tle Dog, Aldebaran, and the unrivalled constel
lation of Orion, with the planet Saturn not far.
—[Sar. News.
m
To Travelers: The best, adhesive label you
can put on luggage is to stick to it yourself.
267