VOL~ IV." NO. 7. ' POUT ROYAL, TIJ^L^s\>A Yr ^)VEM HKU i>0. 1873. ^^?BS Kindred. Our own, our own. Time's heavy hand strikes hard, Absenco leudu fatal strength to circumstance; Old paths by slow forgetfulness are barred ; Old sympathy is chilled by cruel chance. New loves shine down the fairy dreams w^ saw; New friendships early vows obliterate; Till half the happy bonds, our childhood's law, Fade for the waning life, or soon or late. Yet touch a chord by kindred feeling known, Call on an echo deep hi kindred heart, Blood will assert an innate power its own, And wake the spirit for the champion's part. Our own, our own. God-given, holy chain, Linked as mere babies on our mother's knee. Soldered by mutual hope and joy and pain, .Reaching from birth unto eternity. THE WINDS OF THE WEST. Sumner was a mushroom city which had sprung up on the banks of a ravine that cut through the western bluffs of the Missouri. In a thicket of oak saplings, high up on the side of one of those bluffs, stood a hastily built house, sided with rough, upright Cottonwood boards?as are many of its Western neighbors?a rusty stove-pipe sticking through the roof ; a small window, curtained by a scalloped-edge newspaper, and a white door taken from a sunken steamboat, whose nicely finished panels contrasted strangely with its surroundings, completing the exterior. One pleasant May evening, just as the shrill whistle of a steamboat echoed among the hills, this door was opened by a pleasant young woman, who was followed by a crying child. " O Sammy, quit your noise; that's Eappy's little man ; see the great big oat 'way yonder"?lifting him up; "don't you see ? lo#k right sharp now, close ag'in the bank. Does Sammy want to go down town and see the big boat, and see pappy ?" The willing feet toddled down the path ; but the mother called, " Wait a bit, and mammy '11 pack Sammyand, taring on a pink sunbonnet; she took him in her arms and started down the steep, crooked path. It was a picturesque scene that lay before her. The sunlight, sifting through the trees that covered the western hills, glinted the windows here and there and reached, like a golden 1 * i- XI X - e XT ? X oar, j usi across lue wp ox me xorcsi; uii the low eastern shore. Scattered through the hollow and up the 6ides of the bluffs were divers houses, from the pretentious Gothic dwelling on the northern hill and the brick business houses down street, to log cabins and cottonwood shanties ; while the road that wound up the bed of the ravine was lined with a long, white train of Denver-bound freight-wagons. She reached the steep main street to find it filled with wagons that had been turned crosswise of the street to rest the teams. But*edging her way close to the clay bank, sho reached the river just as the steamer was leaving the wharf. The snorting of the engine and the shouting of the deck-hands, together with the puffing of the mill near by, was too much for baby bravery, and Sammy's lips began to quiver. Catching him in her arms, his mother sat down on a saw-log, saying, " There, there, honey, don't be afcared; be puppy's man, now." The tide-waves of the receding boat sank lower and lower on the sand; the gay crowd that leaned over the guards grew indistinct, and sho peered more and more eagerly in among the tall Cottonwood trees on the opposite shore. At length four men came out of the woods and, entering a skiff, started across the river. She watched the skiff anxiously, for it frequently disappeared between the waves which were raised by the pf HAnAi c/Mitli wrin/1 ounli witwlu Knl/M^er. OVAV71J? -JUU kU niuu OUV11 tl JUViO UCIVU^ing as proverbially to Kansas Springs as whooping-cough to children or gapes to chickens. Four rough-looking men, in red woolen shirts?for lumbermen did not pretend to wear coats, except in the coldest weather?jumped out of the skiff, and, with boisterous laughter and rude jests, entered the mill. Presently one of them spied her, and came towards her, saying boisterously, "Hoorah for you, Nancy! Whatever broughtyon'nns down 'ere this time of evenin' ? Mighty fine Joins, when yon oughter be to home gettin' your old man a bite o' supper 1 Packed that young 'un down, too, I'll bet! Reckon you'd as well get back, right quick, now !" He snatched the baby from her and tossed him on his shoulder, shouting, " Hoorah for pappy's man ! Peertest boy in this 'ere town ! Mighty proud to see his pap !" Poor Nancy ! Her husband was drunk again. She hurried up the street, pinning her sun-bonnet more closely about her face, that the passers might not see the tears that would come. He had kept rnhpp rn Innrr flint r)ia 1ir/1 linnorl Iia would come home sober again. She had anticipated so much pleasure on meeting him, after his week's absence. How often she had thought of it in those long, lonely nights, when she had only her thoughts and her child for compnny. It took but a few minutes to put supper on the table. Then she sat down on the door-step to watch for her husband, worrying all the time lest he let something happen to Sammy. When at last he came, the effects of the liquor were wearing off, and he ate his supper and smoked his pipe in sullen silence. She could not eat a mouthful, but she dared not let the tears come, for she knew that it would make him angry. So she fed Sommy, laying her face on his little head once in a while to force back the choking lump that kept rising in her throat. Then she hastened to rock him asleep, lest his fretfulness disturb his father. The tirst peep of dawn found her Hilfiilr nrniani>inr* KvauVfocf fnr C^A ........ j prpouufi "'""'"" I knew that John wanted an early start. She sound of the coffee-mill woke him from his heavy sleep, and he lay qnietly watching her by the light of the dim grease lamp, as alio moved quickly back and forth from table to Rtove; from thence to the little row of shelves, in lieu of a cupboard, setting on the dishes, watching the bacon, and taking the crisp torn-aodger from the oven. " She is a dear, good wife," thought he; rtwhat a scoundrel I was to make her e feel so budly." He knew that he had h been rough to her the night before. He t wished he could remember what he h said. Of course, he never got dead 1 drunk, but he wished he ever could let s whisky alone. c His breakfast was just to his liking, 1 and his wife as cheerful as if he was the t best man in the world. He wanted to t say something pleasant to break the 8 awkward silence, but he did not know c how to begin. He had an uncomfort- 1 able feeling that he ought to beg her 1 pardon, but, being a man, of course he t did not condescend to that. At length ^ he begau by saying, " You was right ^ peert about your breakfast this morn- 8 mg, Nancy." T "Oh, I allowed most likely you'd 8 want to get off soon," she answered. "Yes, Jones wants us theie ag'in' 1 sun-up. It's only a fifty-log raft; reckon 8 we can get it down to Leavenworth I ag'in' the nigt train starts, and I'll get ^ right on, and be back to Atchison afore 1 day. Don't catch me foolin' away an- 8 other day 'round that old fort." " Oh, John ! I'm so proud"?she ? paused abruptly, for his eyes dropped fwith a look of conscious shame. What mood was he in ? Would it do to speak then ? He had shoved back from the c table, and there was a serious, far-away t lrt/Vt in liia Avps hnt nothinc sullen or ? forbidding. She went around, and 1 dropping on her knees beside him, slipped her arms about his neck, say- t ing: j 44 Oh, John, I wish you'd promise me ^ you'd never drink no more whisky." "That's most too hard on a fellow; c but I'll promise not to?not drink too j mnch ag'in." * " But I'm afeared that wouldn't do 1 no good." } 44 You talk like you thought I hadn't \ sense enough to Btop when I've got " enough, if I try," he exclaimed. 44 O, John, don't talk bo; you know J you promised me that nigh onto a year 1 ago; but you think you'll just take one dram, and then just one more,and afore * you know it, it's too mnoh. If you'd 1 only promise now that you'd never taste ? nary drop ag'in." 1 Still he kept his eyes steadily turned . away from hers. . * " Don't you mind, now," she went on, 44 how your mother said one time, 41 reckon, Nancy, you count John a mighty rough chap, but he's all right at the core;' and don't you mind how she used to pray for yen in them old r times? Don't you mind the eveuing f we heard her praying down by the old ^ spring ? If she's watching you among t the Btars, how proud she'd be to hear j you promise. And, John," she con- e tmued, dropping her voice to a whisper, j 441 pray, too, sometimes. I haven't r never told yon, but I've been feeling right serious here of late. I've taken { to readin' my Bible, and I've just made up my mind to live better'n I used to ; g aud pray for you, too, and it seems like j God hears me." And she laid her head T on his shoulder to hide her tears. v His arms slipped around her, but he i still kept his eyes turned stubbornly ] away from hers. At last, laying his e face against hers, he spoke earnestly : i " Yes, Nancy, I promise." t Presently, starting up, he exclaimed : g "If I haven't staved till plum day- t light!" " O John ! come and kiss baby afore t you go, ho looks so sweet. Sammy, J; Sammy ! wake up, honey, and kiss 1 pappy-" 1 "Bless his sleepy oyes! Tappy's I little man ! I'll bring him 6ome candy 6 when I come home ag'in." \ AH day Nancy went about with such 1 a light, cheery heart as she had not c carried in her bosom for many a day ; J singing snatches of old hymus, and i thinking happy, hopeful thoughts of t him who, all those long hours, was f working his rudder against the strong 1 current of the Missouri. e That evening the stars shono brightly ? down upon her, when she knelt down a by tho little window, and asked God's ^ blessings on her husband and his good t resolutions. I But she was awakeued a few hour& t afterwards by a rush and confusion, n i shower of glass and hail across her f bed; and, catching her baby in her c arms, she sprang up, frightened and be- t wildered. ? It was a terrible storm; one long to J be remembered by all who felt its ter- ' rors. The dcafeniDg roar of the wind h?il filmnKt, flrownod the loud tlmn- V I der-claps. A blinding flash of lightning ! n ! showed the trees nlinost bent to the ' t ground, and tho house rocked to and ! o fro like a cradle. She suddenly felt a new, strange feeling, as if she was fly- ? ing, floating, through the air. Sho I thought that she was dizzy, nud caught f hold of the bed. A terrible crash?sho v never knew how it all happened ! Her t baby's cries aroused her. The wind and t rain chilled her through. She started t to spring up, but something held her I down. A shock of pain darted over 1 her, and putting out her hand, she felt ! a gTeat beam lying heavily across her limbs. It seemed as though it was ( crushing her. Something struck her, | then another, and another. How they ; i stung ! Oh ! was her child nnsheltered I! i from that pitiless storm ? His screams ; grew louder. Oh ! she must reach i him ! She could see nothing through ; t ' the thick darkness, but she knew that j he was uot far ofif. What if lie, too, T I 1 0 t i Wtin xa^tuucvi) ; uuc oin/wnvu I ' her arms; every movement made her . & pain more excruciating. She strained ; v every nerve; she could almost reach ; li him. What if he was free and could : c come to her ? " O Sammy ! Sammy!" j v she called, "come to mammy." * J v | The child ceased crying. ' She heard ; t him move. His warm body touched b her hands that were groping in the j t darkness. She caught him in her arms e : and hugged him to her breast. She : s felt of his head, his arms, his feet; fi sound and whole. How thankful she h was for that. But how those c ruel hail- i g stones must have bruised him. She j b rested him on the ground and crouched i t over him ; she could move just enough p for that. The frightened child ceased s crying, and put hjs arm about her neck, t If she could only find something to a cover them from the Btorm. She reach- ' j ed around, but could only touch cold n I mud. b Oh ! that terrible pain ! She had I aost forgotten it in her anxiety f ter child. It grew more and more i olerable. It seemed as though tl lailstones struck through into h >rain. What if they killed her ! W he afraid to die ? Visions of eternit if the hea7en of her faith, rose befo ler. Should she dwell with God ai he angels forever? Was it possib hat there never would be an end ? N he was not afraid of death. But h hUd, her husband?how could s eave them ? Not yet! No, no, whe ife opened before her ? She must lr 0 help John keep his promise. G< coald spare her for that. How long could be until moiming. How con he bear the pain so long ? Oh ! could be terrible if John should oor md find her cold find stiff. John d ove her, oh ! so well. He had lov ler so long. It seemed so many yea ince he first told her that he loved h< t was on the mountain side, in dear c Tennessee. How far away it seeme low the sun shone and the bhang. How dreamy and bewilder ler thoughts were. How still the bal cas. Yes, she could feel his het >eat. She no longer felt the pelting he storm. Had it ceased ? Her thought was answered by a ru >f wind from a new direction. She f( he great weight lifting off from h< ibe was free! Then?something stru ler. The train went snorting into Wi 1 A. -4. J 1* 1.4. "T _ 1 * urop jubl ai uayngm.. oonu jump >ff and -was the first to reach the feri 3e had never seen Atchison so qni< kVith the exception of those who h trossed on the ferry and a few eai isers who were hurrying up the stre? ;he town seemed asleep; but as jassed Commercial street, he saw a m rho was riding a mule, coming do\ n great haste, who cried out, "How d' rohn ?" "Why, Jake!" he replied, "is th rou ? I allowed you was half way Denver afore now." %" We started yesterdav, but we h; i powerful storm on the prairie o lere, last night. We chanced to iglit near to a house and they let n; but it sent our wagons rollii >ver and across the prairie, like jatch of tumble-weeds, and our ox ire all stampeded; I'm on the hunt em. " It don't look like it had reach' \tchison." " No ; I reckon it ju?t took a streak John hurried on down the riv< Hie road ran so near the bank that t iteady swash of the water seemed u ler his feot. Thebirds were singing he trees, and the sunshine came crec ng down the bluffs overhead. He ager he was to get hoaie that mornin lis heart was full of new plans ai lew purposes. Ho could keep li iromise, and he would ; he would nev cake Nancy's heart ache again 1 ireaking that promise. He stoppi uddenly?had the storm reached Sui icr? The tall buildings along t' rharf were leaning roofless, one tl; ray, another that; as if the wind, coi ner over the bluffs, had reached i ii ow enough to unroof them. He haste d around the foot of the hill ; the ay the brick hotel, the boast of t own, in scattered fragments on t [round, like a wasp's nest scattered 1 he housekeeper's broom. He looked around; three-fourths ho town lay in ruins. How was it wi lis home ? He ran up the street un io could see whore it stood. Gom >Tot a vestige of it left. And hisfamil 'erhaps they had escaped before t torm; perhaps . Scarce knowii chat ho did, he hurried to tho neare louse that was yet standing, and wit >ut ceremony opened the door. The ras no one in tho room, but on a cou n one corner, a white sheet "sunk he still proportions" of two sile orms. Moved by some strange impuh 10 t urned back tho covering that shron id the faces?Nancy and the bab; Jhocked, stunned, he sank on his kne md laid his fuco on that dear fori iVho can describe, who can comprehei he utter desolation of that eour ? No: >ut those who have felt It. Oh, t bought? aud memories that crowdi ipon him?many of them bitter, regn nl thoughts. But there was ono mci iry for which he was thankful; that 1 iad not listened to the tempter wliii whispered to him yestermorn that rould be weak and unmanly to yield ter request. They found him there an hour afte rnrds, but he asked no questions, ma< 10 reply to their attempts at consol ion, and they left him alone with b lend. There was " hurrying to and fro " himmcr that dny, for many we eft homeless, many bruised and cri >led by the storm. And the mourne rho wended their way up the long h: o the burying ground were as sail hough the silence had been broken 1 ho tolling of solemn bells.? A'ann Monthly. What Energy Did. A correspondent of the New Yoi Sunday News, in his sketches of Lu ow Street Jail, tells the following in( lent: Three hundred and forty-tlir housand seven hundred and fifty-thri lollars bail was asked for Marquis < jafajotte Sliarkey, the once celebrate obacco merchant of New York cit rho was arrested by his partner for a pging that the assets and stock of tl oncern had ended in smoke; but ras not given, and Sharkey remained rhole year in Ludlow street jail, win he court of last resort decided he hf ieen most wrongfully imprisoned. ] he meantime his business had bei ntirely ruined-and broken up, his wi ent to an asylum as a lunatic, and 1 aancially a bankrupt, for all of whic ie could obtain no redress except th ;iven by a slow process of law; bi ieing an energetic man, he preferr* o start in the world anew, rather tha mt up with the chances of the law low delay, and without capital, otln hnu his energy, he set to work, and in credibly informed that he hi 'struck ile" literally in the Pennsylvi ia region, and is in a fair way to agaj ecome a half a millionaire. il- Dress of Oar Extremities. ?r During the damp and cold season, he says Dio Lewis, deficient dress of the er feet and legs is a fruitful source oi aB disease. The head, throat and liver arc ^ perhaps the most frequent sufferers, ad The legs and feet are far from the cen>le tral part of the body. They are not in o, great mass, like the trunk, but extender ed and developed by the atmosphere, he Besides, tney are near the damp, cold sn earth. For these and other reasons, re they require extra covering. If wc ad would secure the highest physiological it conditions, we must give our extremiId ties more dress than the body. Weweai it upon our legs in the coldest season but ne two thicknesses of cloth. The body hat id at least six. Women put on them foui ed thicknesses under the "shawl, which, .rs with the various doublings, furnishet jr. several more, then, over all, thickild padded fnrs; while their legs have on< d. thickness of cotton, under a balloon, ds They constantly come to me abouttheii ed headache, palpitation of the heart, and by congestion of the liver. Recently, on< trt said to me, " All my blood is in mj of head and chest. My head goes bump ety-bump, my heart goeB bumpety sh bump." Blt I asked, "How are your feet?' "nhnnlmnf ir?? " ?he renlied. T sair sr. Y ?' -? ?k ? ck to her: " If you bo dress jour legs anc feet that the blood can't get down intc ;n. them, where can it go ? It can't go oul ed visiting; it must stay in the systeit y somewhere. Of course the chest anc ?t. head must have an excessive quantity, ad So they go * bumpety-bump,' and sc ly thev must go, until yen dress your legi it, and feet in such a way that they shal he get their share of blood." In the cold' an est season of the year I leave Boston fo: vn a bit of a tour before the lyceums? 'yt going as far as Philadelphia, and ridinf much in the night, without an overooat iat but I give mv legs two or three timet to their usual dreAs. During the coldesl weather, men may wear, in addition t< ad their usual drawers, a pair of chamois nt shin drawers with great advantage, be When we ride in a sleigh, or in the cars us where do we suffer? In our legs og of course. Give me warm legs anc a feet, and I'll hardly thank you for ar en overcoat. of My dear madam, have you a head ache, a sore throat, palpitation of th< ed heart, congestion of the liver, or indi gestion ? Wear one, two or three pain of warm, woolen stockings, and thiok, 5r. warm shoes, with more or less reduc ho tion in the amount of dress about yoiu n- body, and you will obtain the same re in lief permanently that you would deriv< p. temporarily from a warm foot-bath. >w I must not forget to SAy that a thir g. layer of India-rubber cement upon th< 3d boot-sole will do much to keep the bot lis torn of the feet dry and warm. by Female Heroes. P(I * Two noblo women, yonng and beauti |ie fill, named Mattic Stevenson and Litlt lis Wilkinson, are lying ill of the fever ai 11" the Walthall Infirmary, Memphis, tin ^ victims of their own disinterestedness irc and philanthropy. The former, a na h0 tive of Illinois, was visiting som< he friends in Bloomiugton when intollihy genco that Memphis was in distresi reached her. Saying nothing of whai , she intended to do, she immediately ?, set out for that city, and, reaching it, ,offered her services to tha President oi , the Howard Association. She was bui ^ nineteen or twenty years of age, and in ? experienced in such duties as she would 1 have to undertake should her offer b( '? accepted. At first the President was I inclined not to accept her services, bui * she insisted and she was sent to the , Lenher House to await orders. Thai *' night a Scotchwoman, ill of the fever, , was delivered of a child, and there wai no nurse at hand. Dr. Blackburn sent V to the Lehner House for one, and Mist Stevenson volunteered. She nursed ' the poor patients tenderly until they died, and then went to the aid of othj ers, nursing an old man and woman it ne Main street who had that very morning taken four orphan children under tlieii protection, two of whom were also now , ill. Afterwards she was sent to a houst " in Sullivan street to take charge of live lie The severe labor she under' a went told upon her system, and sh< liorHolf wn? striplcpn down find tnlrnn if the infirmary, where she now lies in t critical condition. Miss Wilkinson, an orphan of about Hie same age as Mis< ,r" Stevenson, also offered her services tc the Howards, was accepted, worked l.1' heroically, and now lies tenderly cared 1H for under the same roof as the othei lady. She is thought to be out of dnm m ger. Other women have performed and re are performing similar duties and living P" up to the highest of woman's rights, t " glory and ornament of their sex. Mem '*1 phis will never forget them, as . ^ The Torment of Flame. Some weeks ago, at the village *1 Reuil, France, celebrated for the burial place of Queen Hortense and Empresf Josephiue, a terrible accident accurred, rk A grocer's shop took fire, which waf a soon extinguished ; a crowd collected, .* of course ; one of the firemen had the !1" imprudence to descend into the ccllai ee with a lighted candle to see if ther? ee were any spirits on fire ; in the course |e of a few seconds a terrific detonation s 1 i was heard and the shop and for yardf !d around it were enveloped in a sheet ol TV I a ? ~ 1 J 9 | IJUIUt*. OCVt'IlU UUJA3 U1 J'UUUlUUiil UttU J. 1 exploded, fifty persona in the crowd ie were injured,'and eight subsequently it died. The doctor who attended the ina jtired has read a curious paper on their in burns, all more or less deep. The exid posed surface of the body was most [n severely attacked, the uaiis of the n hands, hair, eyebrows, and whiskers fe were singed away; the skin peeled ofl ie the hands like gloves, and in that state ?h was picked up in a basin of water. For at three hours after the accident the init jured experienced no pain ; then set in id the most atrocious sufferings, violent in shiverings, and tetanic spasms, and in's extinguishable thirst and delirinm; E*r everything they ate or clrank appeared I to them to be tainted with petroleum ; is if they closed their eyes for a moment a- they were haunted with petroleum, and in so continued until death relieved their torture. Vagaries of the Law. , "June 14, 1866, James Sheppard, ) alias Johnson, was tried and convicted f in New York, of passing counterfeit > money and immediately sentenced to be imprisoned for ten years at hard labor in the State Prison." Such is the eni try of that date in the blotter of Lud low street jail. "I'll never go there! they shall kill me first! Ill kill myself [ before I'll go there !" and various other , exolamations of a similar nature, with ) ourses loud and deep were uttered by [ Sheppard upon his return from court that day, he, no doubt, being goverened in hiB utterance by his experience of ; the glorious uncertainties of the law, i for this was the Sheppard who was for r five years confined in the City Prison , upon a charge of arson and wife muri der; who was three times tried for - murder; twice convicted ; three times ) sentenced to be executed, and once sentenced to the State Prison for life, but r who, during the whole time, never I once left his prison to execute either 5 one of the sentences. Once they got r him as far as the outer gate, when he - kicked no his heels, so tnat the sheriff concluded to send for his counsel, before forcibly taking bim to State Prison. ' A stay of proceedings were obtained, 1 and the legal lore saved him from the 1 gallows in the first place, and then from > perpbtnal imprisonment. He insured b a shanty of his, murdered his wife, then i made a funeral pile of his Bhanty and L burned his wife's corpse to a crisp ; . then sued the insurance company f?r > his loss. This was the evidence the Fire i Marshal brought out on the several I trials, but through all the quibbles of the law he escaped the punishment he r so justly deserved. After his release from the City Prison j he would often apply for permission to ; visit there, his only apparent object i being to see in what condition the felb low who occupied his cell kept it. But, > at last, he was arrested for passing counterfeit United States currercy, ana , came up for trial before a court where , writs or error and appeals are but little lr?AT?m nn/1 nrliflrn K?f fnv liia fnrmflr f &UU TTUj OUU TTUVlVj t/UV AW* AAAU AVAAAAV* I career, he womld probably have receivi ed a much lighter sentence, so that his great crime may be considered in a measure punished by the penalty ins dieted upon him for the lesser one. s WearlBg Flannels, ' The value of flannel next the skin r cannot be overrated, says Dio Lewis. It is invaluable to persons of both sex5 es, and all ages, in all countries, in all , climates, at every season of the year, 5 for the sick and the well?in brief, I cannot conceive of any circumstances in which flannel next the skin is not a comfort and a source of health. It should not be changed from thick to thin before the settled hot weather of the sum. mer, which in the Northern States is ( not much before the middle of June, and often not before the first of July. i And the flannels for the summer must ' not be three-quarters cotton, but they j moBt bo all woolen, if yon would have . the best protection, j In the British army and navy they make the wearing of flannel a poiut of j discipline. During tho hot season the . ship's doctor makes a daily cxamina, tion of the men at unexpected hours to make sure that they have not left oil \ their flannels. ! ray as you Ho, 1 John Randolph once ejaculated, in I his shrill toneB, while a member of the I House of Representatives : " Mr. ? Speaker, I ?pi cry Eureka, for I have t found the philosopher's stone. It is? i Pay an you go !" The example of the 1 Frenah is given as a case in point. The t French, "who never go in debt, and ' who havo been saving money since the I days of the first Napoleon, have become r the richest people in the world, which * seems proved by the fact that the Geri man indemnity of a thousand millions ' of dollars, which they were obliged to pay, has been all discharged in two r years, while we havo been struggling > for eight years with twice as much. > Perhaps the wealth of the French far mcrs arises as much from the small > farm system and the high cultivation ? they give the soil. There is a vast difk ference between farming in a loose way ' and having all work done in the best ? manner. Strong Description, Tho fallowing strong figure of speech . was used to illustrate the great size of I America to a foreigner by his brother, > who could not make up his mind about \ emigrating: " Where did the baccy come from ! why, from 'Meriky, where else ? that sent us the finest petaty. Long life to it for both, says I!" f " What sort of a place is that, I won! der?" " 'Meriky ! They tell me it's mighty ' sizablo. I in tould that you might roil > England through it, an' it would hard? ly make a dint in the ground. There's , a* fresh-water ocenn inside of it that i von might dhrown Ireland in, and save Father Matkew a wonderful sight of > thronble; and' as for Scotland, yon i might stick it in a corner of one of their i forests, an' you'd never be able to find i it, except it might be by the smell of ! the whisky !" [ A Dreadful Story.?A small boy has sent us the following information : J "A fu dais ago we lost our cat. She I got drowned in Mr. 's well; but no! Kn.lv Irnnwd nli? (rot. drownded in the , i well and so Mr. 's fokes and Mr. i j 's fokes, and all the nabors besides, i drinked onten the well jnst Jthe saim. " I Tha drinked morc'n tha evir did afore 11 ges8?canse the water tastid so swete. i I went 2 the well fur water tother da an 11 seed the cat in 2 the well. She was ded. She was afloatin a round drownded. Me and Billj flsht her out with a hook and line. She smelt orful. But the nabnrs doant drink enny more watir onten the well now. Wat I cant undirstand is whi tha doant. Tha oqtghen B moor willin 2 drink the watir wen the cat is out than wen she is in. I think so. ures treoly. N. B. this is A tru/aokt." A Brave School Girl. r How Gen. n'Mahon of France found bU Wife. &ni It Tras on the 1st of December, 1838, ^ at an advanced hoar of the night, that ^ a fire broke out in the female seminary of Limoges. The flames spread with j snch rapidity that the fair yonng in- we mates could be rescued only with the fei utmost difficulty. At last, when all of 1 them were believed to be assembled, shivering in their thin night dresses, in front of the burning edifice, the cry ^ sounded suddenly, " Louise de Bailly i is still in the building I" The lookers-on slood as if petrified, 4 and the firemen did not venture to en- "P ter the houso, which now looked like a Pr< fiery furnace. Poor Mademoiselle ae Banly was already given up as hope- Aa lessly lost, when all of a sadden a tall St< vnnno crirl. with her blonde hair hanor- 7 ing loose over her shoulders, and her of deep blue eyes flashing out the heaven- ha ly Are of inspiration and indomitable courage, rushed from among her terri- ^ fled sisters, and exclaiming, "I will try ng to find her I" ran toward the burning bulding. , A thousand voices shouted, "Do not thi risk your life thus foolishly ! ge( Others prayed for "dear Heloise," <n tank, on the .lid of which rests a lantity of artificial ice froze much rder than the common natural ice. lis ice, which costs $'25 a ton, so >ezes the meat that decomposition is id to bo impossible. Postmaster Burt tfave a lectnro on e postal service at Boston last w?ek, d illustrated the proverbial carelesnss of letter writers by showing his dicnce two hundred letters taken in e office the previous day, which were t properlv prepaid or directed, and o hundred and fifty postal cards with , sorts of messages on the backs, but t a sign of a direction on the face. Bo numerous are the mosquitoes in me localities of South America, that e wretched inhabitants sleep with eir bodies covered with sand three or nr inches deep, the head only being :t out; which they cover with a clath ; d travelers'.have been obliged to have joursc to the same expedient. Even ick clothes afford at best a vefy paril nrnfpptinn. beincr readilv Denetrated tlf the sharp proboscis of"tLo insect. According to a writer in the Popular Hence Monthly, a house should be so need that the direct rays of tho nun n have free admission into the living artments, because tho sun's rays im- ? rt a healthy and invigorating quality the air, and stimulate vitality of burn beings as they do those of plants, d without sunlight human beings, well as plants, would sicken and die. ie aspect, therefore, should be southst. It appears that young Leggett, who 11 down a precipice at Cornell Unirsity and was killed, was put through initiation into the mysteries of the ippa Alpha fraternity, and was blindlaed at the time. The sad accident itself, of course, proves nothing as the wisdom or folly of the proceedgs, but it does indicate that they 're conducted with inexcusable careisness. Leaving a man blindfolded grope abont a precipice fifty feet gh oould hardly have been meant for joke. - - - --- - ? _ . . A.-'-'lsrt