The Manning times. (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, March 31, 1886, Image 1

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VOL. I[ MANNING. CLARENDON COUNTY, S. C, WEDNESDAY, MARCH A Land of Gladness. How softly flow. among Sonomna's bills. The ice-cold springs, the mecrry-hearted rills, Fragrance of pine my wandering fancy thrills, Till, even througrh the city's no(ise-built wals. 1 hear the chant of sudden water'falls. Once more, through cedar boughs the black bird calls. There are wild cliffs onm Mendeeinlo's shore, .And well I know the seawveed on the floor Of hidden eaves, aind many a marvel more. Pacilic's heart bath legends wise and old, Go thou, and wait in voices manifold When storms are loose, to hear the story told. Again I see gray mountains purely clad with g'eaming snow, vast peaks forever clad Such heights as these the elder singers had. .Again one hails the sunlight's burst of foam On Lassen's peaks on Shasta's snowy dome. Where lilies bloom beneath the glacier's home. But best the redwood shade, the p:-ace it brings. Where fancies rise as crystal mountaiu Beneath tall trees; and dear each bird that sings In rainless summers: dear the ferns which grow By cool Navarro, where sea-breezes blow And white azaleas touch the river's flow. --Charles Howard Shinn, in the Century for February. _______ A SOLDIER'S TRUST. BY DAVID LOWRY. "How we will live Heaven only knows! All is dark now." Mrs. Paine sat down suddenly and lifted a hand to her eyes. Her daugh ter, Caroline. a bright, pretty girl of seventeen, noted among her associates for her energy and resolution, caught her breath suddenly. She was going to cry, but resolved not to yield now when her mother was overcome with dread of the future. The world had been the aver.' s world to Ellen Paine. She had enjoyed its sweets till the war camne and robbed her of her husband for years. There were some jolts in life's joutney when he came home. He was not as strong as when he went away-lost time, and of choice changed his vocation. Still content sweetened the things the gods provided the Faines through sickness and idleness; the increasing' family and growing responsibilities alIl were ac cepted eheerfully till one day the sun seemed to drop out of the firmament. Andrew Paine was bronught home un conscious, a terribl'e accident had hap pened; in twenty-four hours Mrs. Pamne 'was a widow. ,Time moved on. Providence raised a friend to her in her brother-in-law, who found work for his nephew, and thus kept the roof over Mrs. Paine's head. But death claimed the son, and then the burden beo'an to fall on Caroline. The mother s~ove to lighten it-to make the girl's life as joyous as she could. It 'was a dull life at best; the grind began when she fell ill with rheumatism. The future looked dark, but the uncle still turned the cloud aside until the silver linino' shone again. Suldenly trade stopped. Thea it really seemed as if all the world stop ped, so far as Mrs. Paine and her daugh ter were concerned. The establishment where Caroline worked ceased opera tions unexpectedly. Mrs. Paine was unable to more a hand that month. Would they ever, even if work offered again, be able to catch up-to repay wnat they owed? These wei queries mother and daughter asked themselves an hundred times. Before the question was answered. fate-remorseless fate-swept awaty their last hope. The- uncle, Arthur Paine. was summuoned to his final aiccounit with more swiftness than his brother. The two women-one suffering, in broken health; the other hungering for joya she saw herself for'ever shut out of -looked at each otiher fearfully. Tihey did not dare to breathe their fears. The mother's heart ached for her child, the daughter's for' her amether'. But the world wrings answ~ers from all. T1he day caeur when the mother and daughter had :o speak plainly, and when it came, it 1fon thme mother as a. ba be. ' "M.othmer, tuere nmy be a w'ay'," said Caroline Paine, iho.mmily. Mrs. Paine shook her head, still keeping her eyes co~ered. "I'm sure mother-wait until Mr. Brooks conies honme. Then I will tell you what I mean." 'Mr. Brooks was well up in years--an 10hd bachelor who roomed on the same floor with the Paines. He was a clerk, with a varied exucrience. To Caroline hie was a walking eneyelopedia. An hour later, Mr. llr'ooks, in response to Caroline's request, stepped noiselessly into the room the Paines occupied. 'Mr. Brooks," said. Caruoline, briskly, "I want to ask you about soldiers' claimis. You know what soldiers are entitled to?" . "I ought to. I was chief clerk for a claim agent eight years, and five years in the Pension Office here." Mr. Brooks wasted no words. He sat down, look. ing inquiringly at the earnest face be fore him. -"Then you can help us. Mr. Brooks. I want you to sell the land my father or my miother is entitled to. Father never sold it. did he. mother?" Mrs. Paine looked bewildered. "What land?" "Why, the 160 acres I used to hear father say" was lying out West waiting for him.' "0!" said Mr. Brooks--"that's all a' -here he checked himself. The girlm face fell. Why not soften the disap pointmlent. "You see'-there reall~ never was anything in that. I mean-' '-You don't mean father sold hiu elaim?" Mr. Brooks couldn't invent a lie, o: he would have done it. He blurted ou1 the truth: "I've no doubt your fathe thought he was entitled to the land--' '-Why, Mr. Brooks, I've heard hin say, time and again, the Governmen owed him the land: that he would sel his claim when the time came if he evel was-was, as we are rnow-hard press '-I remember now; so he did," sai< Mrs. Paine. "Caroline is right." Mrs Paine spoke cheerfully. "-The truth is the Ghovernmient nevel really promised the land." "Whv. Mr. Brooks, I've heard of so] diers selling their land warrants," sai< Caroline. "So they did, Miss; that's just where the mistake was made. You see, before the civil war, the Government gavy soldiers land warrants; the volunteer were led to believe they'd getthe same. "Yes, and pay in gold." said Mrs ang "Yes-pay in gold. But they were paid in paper money. worth forty to sixty cents on the dollar, when gold see sawed tip and down. It was a swindle on the soldier, but a big thing it bis proved for the bondholdier." "And mother has no claim to any thing?" "t an inch of lan(l." Caroline thought rapidly. - "Then, since you know the law, she' is entitled to pension money. Everybody knows my father lost his health in the army." "Did he ever apply for a pension?" "He was too independent to do that," said Mrs. Paine, wearily. "Well, if there never was anything done about it. it is too late now. Is his doctor living?" "Dr. Hamilton is dead-he was our physician for twenty years." No case," said Brooks. "Is there no way-no hope in any di rection?" Brooks pondered. It was disagree able, but the truth was best in this case. "I don't see a glimmer of hope. Miss Paine-only disappointment. If your father had been wounded-lost an arm or leg-but. you see, dying so long after the war-making no sign-doctors dead -it's a case debarred, as I might say." Caroline's brows contracted involun tarilv. She looked at Brooks steadily. revolving new thoughts in her mind. "If a man lost an arm, and is in good health and can clerk just as well as ever he could-" Brooks anticipated her. -If he has an income of ten thousand a year. and only had his big toe hurt, he gets a pen sion. I know people who draw pensions for less." -But a man whose health was bro ken-who couldn't show any wound and-" "Precisely. Miss Paine. A complica tion of diseases carries a man off. It don't matter if he went into the army as healthy as any man who never bad a pain or ache, or never was in bed a day in his life-if the doctors were sure the service ruined his health, there's lots of cases where its hard to prove it-they don't prove it in such cases, as a rule. If there was any doctor who could swear to the facts-" Mrs. Paine and her daughter shook their heads slowly. "Thank you, Mr. Brooks." How Brooks managed to get out of the room he never knew himself. The picture the mother and daughter pre sented at that moment was stamped on his memory forever. He thought so much about them that, instead of going to the theatre, he went to a cigar store where he was in the habit of meeting sonic friends, and, in a very discreet manner, set about collecting a little monev "for a very worthy object." The next day, at noon, a tap sounded on Paine's door. Caroline opned it on the instant, and, seeing Mr. Brooks, blushed, He spoke quickly, as if he had a great press of business on hand. "Miss Paine, a few friends-of your father's, I mean-they knew him very well, sent me with this and their com pliments." Here he broke down. Caroline's eyes seemed to read his very soul. Brooks wanted to back out. Instead he ad anced quickly to a small table. where Mrs. Paine was seated, deposited a bank note on the table, and, bowing to Caro line, withdrew so quickly she had not time to interc-ont the movement. Mrs. Paine turned to look after him. Her elbow swept the bank note off the table. The draught caused by the quickly closed door Brooks pulled to after him swept the note uinder the open grate. Caroline sprang~ forward with a smothered cry. She was not a moment too quick. A. live coal ignited the note. She had the presence of mind to crush it in her hand, at the risk of a broad blister. When sihe opened her hand slowly, one-half the note had disap' peare'd. The half in her hand showed that it had been a te:-dollar note. She burst into tears. It seemed as if mis fortunes would never end. 'What is it. Caroline?" "He gave us tea dollars, and it is lost." She wept passionately. --'It would have paid what we owe im the store, a month's rent, and left us two dollars." "Burned-b'urned. Caroline?" There wvas a world of anxiety, of dread, in Mrs. Paine's voice. Caroline extended her burned palm, on which lay the half of the note.* -It is not all lost. I read of ways te gt money made right, I'm sure. some "where. ~You can getfic for it, may be." "Yes; but that would just pay th( store bill. And then what could we doi But we'll see." She dried her eyes bravely, laid the burned note carefully away, and re solved to make the most of it the nlex' morning. She was dressed, and on her way tc the office of the "Customs of the Port,' whither she had been directed, long be fore the oflice was opened. After walk ing an hour on the street, she returned, toC be told that it was a legal holiday, so no business would be done that day. As she turned away, she stumbled upox Mr. Brooks. Would she tell him? Noi for herself-but her mnother. In ten words Brooks had the story. He expressed regret. reticeted, bid lie: wait at a drug store, and hastened to " friend," he said. He wvas abseint tif teer or twenty minutes. When he returned, he handed her a crisp $5 note. talked about the weather: everything bul money, (ot the buirned niote, and bad< her go-day in his brisk wayv. Caroline returned iome, calling at: grocer's on the way. and purchasing: few necessities.--enouh to keep bodj and soul together az littlk longer. As from that hour their for'tunes unproved somehow wvork came to her. atnda physician kindly interested himself ir Ms. Paine's cast-. to a de'gree that re Istored her health. My story has ii more to do with them. further than t< state that the Grand Army of the Re public did for them what the Gov'ern ment should have done. I will follov Brooks and the burned note. The next day Brooks dropped int< the U. S.-the great United States De pository, deliberately recited so much o the facts as cemcerned the gentleman1, Sclerk, and was told the note, the wholl Snote, would be repiace'd. He had Mis Caroline Paine make affidavit to tha fact, the burned note was forwarded2 and in two weeks rooks carried to he another $>: thu tih- P-!;, -s 11ad the benefit of the entire :a::.::t tIe litle knot at the ci-rar .-toi made up for her. The ineident i:'h, a dtp.; im1pression on Brooks. H' mdlered ver it, and pendered until h'e ;ro to talking about it. Froi talkhinr to hi friends, hw got to talking- about it in the itst. Finally he was inspired-I CanI think oi no other as fitting -to write a lee:::r, which he has been deliverin-r with iuch e:rnest ness and un'quivocai su.cess all over the State. Hie begins witi ::inc's vol untarv four yearss serv ivv. exi. - the swindile involved in the silece oncern ing the land warrants vhen iien signed muster-rolls, recites the slow p.iv-day experiences, call& up months of waiting by wives and children. co:iprs the I purchasing power of the soldiers' pay with the purchasing power of a sIve dollar to-day, burns- s ges the bond holders until there i:, nothing left of them, and winds up with the ineidlent of the burnt note which the Government was honest enough to re)ltee. le makes out very clearly--proves to every man within sound of his voice or logie, that the systeli-the fiiallei:,l system - the Goveriiment 11 purn.ol. i; exactly as if every note given in paym:ieit to, a soldier had been burned at oi ent - burned a quarter, third. half or live pi?,hths. as the price of gold wl'nt and down. What is very curious, althou~th sone people say behind his back that Brooks is a blatherskite, nobody has ever had the courage to tackle him face to face. An Electrical Engineer. There are two roads to take if you wish to become an electrical engineer. Although this occuna tion of electrical engineering is so new, there are three colleges in our country where the theo retical part xt the profession is taught, namely: The stevens Institute of Tech nology, at Hoboken, New Jersey: the University of Pennsylvania; and the Massachusetts Institute are the best known. If a young man has gone through the theoretical and partially practical training to be had in either of these institutions, he does not require a great deal of actual experience in doing the work itself to fit him for undertak ing altmost any task pertaining to the calling. But sore boys may not be able to spare the time <'r pay the money for this collegiate part of the training. In that case, they endeavor to find emllployment in one of the factories of the great com panies I hare mentioned. To obtain admission. however, they must be bright, they must give -ood promise in the tsite thev have fo, mechanical pursuits, as well as in their habits, that they are suited for the profession they seek to en ter. Havine obtained an entrance, they begin as ordinary employes, do ing the simplest kind of work or even drudgery; then they are transferred from one department to another, learn ing a little at each step they take; until, finally, they have a good knowledge of the ianufacturing branch of the pro fession. From there they should go to the la boratory, where they obtain the scien tific knowledge of the business. To know how the different parts are put to gether is not of itself sufficient; they must be able to tell why they are put to gether in that particular way; it is just that knowledge which makes them elec trical engineers. Then they are sent out as assistants to the various electric-lighting stations or are temporarily placed in charge of plants which have just been established, and which some ama'ur engieer is learning how to run. Finally they may be put in charge of a bghting station, that is, a builing from whichi the light ing power is furnished for the lamps in the immediate neighborhood; and last l, they may become miembers of the engineering corps, and put up the elec tric lights for some p~eople in the man ner f have described.-Froml "'Ready~ for Business." by George J. Manson, in, St. Nicholas for February. A California Lizard's Queer Trier. "There are some curious eases among the geckos," said a Los Angeles country naturalist. "Here is one (dead that is called the leaf-tail gecko. You see the tail bulges out soon after leaving the body and assumes a leatf or arrow shape; hencee the name of the animal. Now, when the little creature is chased you will see it dodge around a limb and hold up the cuirious leaf-like tail. That is all you can see, and so naturally, would think it a part of the tree itself. But the lizard has a more remarkable method of escape yet. We will imagine that yon have tried to pltuck the leaf. The animal drops clunisily to the ground and darts away among the rocks, where it attracets the attention of some of the hawks that are forever prowling around Immediately a chase ensues; the bird gains, and is finally about to pounce upon its prey, when all at once two liz ards appear, one making off, while the other dances up and down into the air and alonoe the ground in a mysterious way, so tiat the astonished bird stops and looks. In the meantime the origi nal lizard escap~es: the other, that is really the tail, soon becomes quiescent. You see the geeko has the faculty of throwinge off its tail whlen hard pressed, and, whd'e the pursuers attention is drawn to the squirming member, the animal itself escapes." "But it loses its tai!?"' suggested tIhe Ire)orter. "Only for a time. T1hey can repro duce this organ, aind curiously enough, sometmes twvo tails are prioduiced in stead of one.--Satn Francisco Call. Two colored brothers fell out in the church about a small matter. Thue of fending brother went to the offended one andi said: "Brudder, the Lord has foriven mie, and won't you?" The offnded brother replied: "You go bring de Lord's certifica~te that he has forgiven you, den I will see about de matter. John de B:aptist required de Jews te bring a certificate of der repentance 'fore he wvould baptize umn."--ewmna S(Ga.) Hecrald. T. V. Powderlyv, general master work man of the Knights of Labor, says: "1 Severy laborer and every manufacturei swould read (daily a goo-d paper and keel Spostd on topies of the time I feel cer .t,, t.w w-ould be les tronble." MIS H1AND WASN'T STEADY. Nor His Eye Quick, but When His Gun Went Of the Boys Felt Sheepish. An Equinunk, Pa., correspondent writes: John Finley Teeple. known :dl over northern Pennsylvania as Uncle Fin, was 79 years old his last birthday. For more than sixty years he hunted and trapped from the Delaware to the Allegheny. and never missed a season until two years ago. Then he made up his mind to take a rest, more because game was getting scarce than because he was tired. His two boys. Lije and Sim. could take care of all that was left, he said. From that time until a few days before the past deer season closed he hadn't touched his gun-a gun that he claims has 'ain low bear and deer by the thousand. One morning recent ly he got out of bad and said to his son Lije: "Lije, I'm goin' down in Pike county an' knock over deer before I hole up fur (00(1. Lije and the rest of the family tried to change Uncle Fin's mind, for they thought lie was too old to go tramping through the woods on a deer hunt. He was dletermined, however, and so his bovs. Lije and Sim, tixed themselves up. and got ready to go with the old hun ter. They went down on the Mast Hope ridge, twenty-five miles from home. Sim drove for deer, and Uncle Fin and Lije stood on the runways. "Father," said Lije, "Iguess I'll stay close by you, for your hand isn't as steady 'as. it was 'fifty years ago, and vour eve isn't as quick. So 111 keep closc bv vou, and if Sim senls a deer along and you miss it I'll knock it over. ' "Ye will, hey?" exclaimed the old man, indignantly. "My han' hain't ez stidr z'twere fifty years ago, hain't it? 'Xor my eve hain't so quick? Wall, now, my fresh young Nimrod, you jist plank verself over on that runway up vender half a mile or so, an' I'll stay right whar I be. If a deer comes pitch in' 'long here 'thin runshot o' me I'll I show.vu wuther mvlan' haint' ez stid dy or my eye hiin't ez quick ex they! usety be.' G'long with ye, an' look out fur yer own han an' eye!" "All right," said Lije; "but if you lose the deer don't blame me." Lije went reluctantly to the upper runway. Unicle Fin remained where he was. Sim went out on the ridge, and after an half hour or so started a rous ing buck. It was a good way off, bat within reach, and he blazed away at it. It kept right on. It bounded down the ridge and passed along within good range of Lije. Lije sent a bullet after it, but the buck kept right on. "Blame the luck!' said he. "Now, just for the old man's contrariness, we're liable to lose that deer. He won't be able to see it unless it runs over him, to say nothing of hitting it." The buck tore along through the brush, and was clearing thirty feet at a jump as it passed Uncle Fin, a hundred yards away. His eyesight hadn't en tirelv failed, for he saw the buck. He drew bead on it, and let "old Betsey" speak. The buck gave two or three wild bounds, and fell in the brush. Uncle Fin didn't move toward it. When the boys came up Lije asked the old man what he had shot at. "A buck, I reckon," said he. "What'd ou fellers blaze at?" "A bio buck," said Lije, "but I didn't reach him. - Which way did he o from here?" " "Which wav'd lie go?" said Uncle Fin, conteiiiptously. -'Ye hieerd me shoot, didn't ye? If you smart roosters don't know h'ow toi handle a gun yit nmebbe e know how to dIress a dead deer. If ye (do, jist trot over vender by that big hemlock an' hang up that buck. I'd go an' do it, but by han' hain't cz stiddy ez~ 'twere fifty year's ago, ye know, an' my eyesight's failin'.'' 'Lij'e and 51m could hear the old man laugh alhl the way over' to thle huemlock tree, and whlen they found the buek ly ing there, d.ead as a mackeral, and with one bullet-hoie in i:. and that through the kidneys, they felt lika btuttin.g their heads against a'rock. They dre'.ssed the deer and brought it in without a word. "It's a ter'blc thing w'en a man gits old an' shakv an' darn iiigh blind, hain't it, b~ovs ?" said Uncle Fin, serious l, as the boyvs stumbled the buck on the ground at ~his feet. --It's the sappy oung feller with stiddv nerves that knocks over the ven'zin. h'ain't it boys?" Then the wvav this old man laughed madle the bovs feel more sheepish than ever. They took the big buick to Mast Hope, loaded it on the cars, and got home the same day they wvent away. But the result of the'hunt' has satistied Uncle Fin that he made~ a mistake in re tiring from the chase two vent's ago. "I see I've go ogootan' give them boys o' mine a lit tle more trainin'," he sas. "Why, if I were the side of a barn I woulln't be 'feerd to stan' up an' let them boys peg away at me all (lay, I'll be on the turrt ag'iin next season, ez usual, an' take 'em in han' an' 1' arn 'em sumphin!" I I There are many curious facts in American history. Three Vice Presi dents. Gerry, Hendricks and Wilson, died in November at dates which might all come in a single week. No Presi dent, either in or out of office, has (died in November, though six have died in July and four in June. Garfield died in September, Lincoln in April, Taylor in July and Harrison in April. Two Vice Presidents have been indicted for trea son. These were Aaron Burr and John C. Breckenridge. One Vice President, John C. Calhoun, resigned his office, and seven men have held both Presi dental and Vice Presidlential chairs. John Adams. Washington's Vice Presi dent,suceeded him in the White House. Jefferson, Adams' Vice Presidecnt, did likewise, anid Martin \'an Buren, one of Jackson's Vice Presidents, was his successor. The other four became Pres ident by death. They were Tyler, Fil more, Johnson andi Arthur. The following story, without a vouc'h e, is told on Mayor Rice: The day after his election to oflice he was applied to by a street mendicant for aid. His Honor asked him what caused his pov erty. TIhe reply was, "I have fallen among thieves." "Ah," said the Mayor reflectively, "so have I." For sweet charity's sake and the bond that existed between the two men the pauper received a marer --SL Paud Pioneer-.Press. An Old-Time Negro Dance. From Georze W. Cable's illustrate paper, in the'February Century, accom panied by the music of the Creole dances, we quote the following: "It was a weird one. The negro of colonial Louisiana was a most grotesque figure. He was nearly naked. Often his neck and arms, thighs, shanks, and splay feet were shrunken, though, sinewy like a monkey's. Sometimes it was scant diet and cruel labor that had made them so. Even th2 requirement of law was only that he should have not less than a barrel of corn-nothing else,-a month, nor get more than thirty lashes to the twenty-four hours. The whole world was crueler those times than now; we must not judge them by our own. "Often the slave's attire was only a cotton shirt, or a pair of pantaloons hanging in indecent tatters to his naked waist. The bond-woman was well clad who had on as much as a coarse chemise and petticoat. To add a tignon-a Mad ras handkerchief twisted into a turban -was high gentility, and the number of kerchiefs bevond that one was the measure of absolute wealth. Some were rich in tignons; especially those who served within the house, and pleased the niistrese,or even the master-there were Hagars in those days.. However, Congo Plains did not gather the house-servants so much as the 'field-hands." "These came in troops. See them; wilder than gypsies; wilder than the Moors and Arabs whose strong blood :nd features one sees at a glance in so many of them; gangs-as they are called -gangs and gangs of them, from this and that and vonder direction; tall, well-knit Senegalese from Cape Verde, black as ebony, with intelligent, kindly eves and long, straight, shapely noses; andingoes, from the Gambia River, lighter of color, of cruder form, and a cunning that shows in the countenance; whose enslavement seems specially a shame, their nation 'the merchants of Africa,' dwelling in towns, industrious, thrifty, skilled in commerce and hus bandry, and expert in the working of metals, even to silver and gold; and Foulahs, playfully miscalled 'Poulards,' -fat chickens,-of goodly stature, and with a perceptible rose tint in the heeks; and Sosos, famous warriors, dexterous with the African targe; and in contrast to these, with small ears, thick eyebrows, bright eyes, flat, up turned noses, shining skin, wide mouths and white teeth, the negroes of Guinea, true and unmixed, from the Gold Coast, the Slave Coast, an.d the Cape of Palms -not from the Grain Coast; the En glish had that trade. See them come! opoes, Cotocolies, Fidas, Socoes, Ag. was, short, copper-colored Mines-what havoc the slavers did make!-and from interior Africa others equally proud and warlike: fierce Negroes and Fonds; taw nv Awassas; Iboes, so light-colored that oe could not tell them from mulattoes but for their national tattooing; and the half-civilized and quick-witted but fe rocious Aranda, the original Voudou worshiper. And how many more! For here come, also, men and women from all that great Congo coast,-Angola, Malimbe, Ambrice, etc.,-small, good natured, sprightly 'boys,' and gay gar rulous 'gals,' thicklipped but not tat tood; chattering, chaffering, singing,and guffawing as they come; these are they for whom the dance and the place are named, the most numerous sort of ne gro in the colonies, the Congoes and Fran-Congoes, and though serpent worshipers, yet the gentlest and kind liest natures that came from Africa. Such was the company. Among these bossals-that is, native Africans-there was, of course, an evergrowing number of negroes who proudly called them selves Creole negroes, that is, horn in America; and at the present time there is only here and there an old native Africatn to be met with, vain of his sin gularity and trembling on his staff." Who are Fit for Marriage? Show the children, father, thai "mother" is the loved queen of your heart and home. Teach the boys, by example, that mother and sister are to be treated with all gentle deference. Offer to the weaker ones the pleasantest seat in the sunny windows, or by the fire, and see how infectious will be the courteous atmosphere about you. No woman, or womanmy girl, but will b( touched to the core of her gentle hecart by this thoughtfulness, and the maiden vho steps out of sueh a home is hardly likely to sharpen her tongue or pen at the expense of mankind, for manhiood means to her the strength upon which she may safely lean when she needs t( be upheld; the protection that is prompi when she needs defense; the voice that encourages and advises justly and gen erously. To become such a nman's loved wife, is to her to open the door to all the gracious outreach of her mother's life, as she has seen it dlay by day. To be come the husband of such a natural womanly girl, is the wedding of a wo man fit for wifehood with one of thc men fit for husbands. Show me the man unfit fra husband and I will tell o ~ e. ihing of his father and mother. if the home life is unoracious the child ren who grow up in ihat home will be ungracious and distorted in their lives as plants deprived of sunshine and oxy gen grow stunted and awry, if they grow at all. Begin with- the babies on your kneb, mothers, andl there will be nc need to complain that: -There is non( fit for marriage-no, not one!"--Trebor Od, in Good Hovsekeeping. '-On one occasion," says Ben Perley Poore, -'Daniel Webster, when visiting the old hall of the House of Representa tives, had his attention called to the re markable echo which repeated audibly everything that was said from certain places on the tloor. He was told that this had the good effect of preventing certain members, whose seats were in those parts of the House. from speaking, and one was mentioned especially whc wold otherwise have grumbled ovci every appropriationl. 31r. We-bster wrote on an envelope: -0d1 growling P'olk, from' 'Tennessee, Says very little in tus~ meetin: '. Simply because'Ctwixt you and me) His slpeeches wil not bear repeauing." Mr. VUn Z:mn'T, ex-Governor o: Rhod-, l--land. is chl:ldred somnetimes be cause of h~ is Dah-Yanukee ancestry. "] tell them," sayvs he, --we are all milxec up in blood in this country like cock tails. Some Peculiar People. The lugubrious man. He is happy only when he is miserable. But then, he is almost always miserable. Come what may, he can find something troublesome in it. When the rain lays the annoying dust for other people it makes miserable mud for him, and when the sunshine dries the vexing mud for others it makes tormenting dust for him. In his life every silver lining has it- cloud. If by any chance there comes a time when there is nothing to mourn for he sends out his imagination to find something. If the weather is just as he wishes it to be he sets himself to think ing on what it will be next August and works himself into what is vulgarly called a sweat. in one way or another he is in a swCat Iost of the time. When he has no troubles of his own he shoul ders some of those which his neighbors ought to have. He mourns to see Jones eating hard-boiled eggs year after year in utter unconsciousness that he is ru ining his dia-estion. It grieves him to know that Smith keeps right on riding a bicycle after he has bon warned time and again of the dreadful consequences of a '-header"; and it tears his very soul to :see Robinson persist in wearing a plug hat without an airhole in it. when it has been denionstrated so very clear lv that this sort of thing has been known to produce baldness. The lugubrious man is not a pleasing person to have around, but after all he serves a pur pose. If lie absorbs all the sadness of his neighborhood he leaves the rest of the psople comparatively free to enjoy themselves as they go. The funny man. He isn't funny. but that is not his fault. He tries hard enough. He seems to think the aim of all proper life is to make people laugh at hin;; and sometimes he accomplishes this. Most of the people, however, laugh At him when he is not around. You will find him wherever there is a crowd. No matter what the object of the asseublage may be, he is there with his joke. He sits at the barber-shop awaiting his turn and tells the barber to be carvful not to dull his razor on his friend's cheek. This being a joke he laughs at it. How would anybody know it was fanny if nobody laughed at it? Presently his tiurn comes and he tells the barber 'hat he will make no charge for letting him hone his razor on his cheek. Robody laughs, and he ven tures the explanatory remark that a razor may be honed on his adamantine cheek. Still nobody laughs-that is, nobody but himself, and that is sub stantially nobody. If you don't find him in the barber-sho> look out for him in the railroad car. . When the brake man announces that "this train will not stop between Riverside and Downer's Grove" the funny man shouts: "Who said it would?" This makes him laugh all over,but the brakeman and the other passengers look tired, and travel-worn, and sorry thev-didn't get off at the last station. The funny man is also epi demic at social gatherings. He likes social gatherings, because there people have to laugh at his remarks whether they want to or not. It is one of the drawbacks of a social gathering That everybody has to pretend to enjoy every thing about it, even to the funny man. If the funny man and the lugubrious man could be tied together by the heels and flung over a clothes-line society would try very hard to accept the situa tion philosophically and with due resig nation.-Chicago News. People Who Wear Tights. "One .of the principal articles we sell," said a stage costumer to a report er for the New York Mail and Express, "is tights. They are not only used on the stage, but in almost every show in the country. The demand for them now is large." "Do they wear out easily?" "That depends entirely on the kind of show the wearer is acting in. Circus riders wear the most. It's the rosin on the horse's back that does that. Then the wearer perspiring makes it necessary to have them wvashed every time they are used. A bareback circus rider will wear out one or twvo pair a week They cost all the way from $2 a pair up to al most any price. The average pair for circus people costs $6. They are plain woven tights, but very . strong. There are innumerable varieties in material, in styles, in colors and still more in fits. The cheapest tio'ht arc made of cotton. These are matie in all colors, flesh, white, black, unbleached, chocolate and brown. Then there are fine cotton tights, Lisle thread tights, French cotton tights and silk tights." "Do you sell them ready-made or make them to order?" "The best qualities are all made to measure. We have the make-up or model of a number of actresses, and can make them as often as they are wanted." "What do you mean by the make-up?' "You don't suppose these people have the goods made to fit their true forms, do you? Not more than one-fifth of them have their tight-fitting clothes made without padding. How would a premier danseuse look posing before her audience if her costume were not made to give her a soft, rounded appearancel We make padded skirts, padded hips, padded arms, padded insteps, padded thighs, padded legs, and, in fact, padded everything. The pads are made of fine lamb's wool When a large ballet is being organized we have to go into this paln bsns very extenstvely bo' meofth pretiest ls will be slight ly knock-kneed or ow-legg'ed. We have to straighten them out and produce the fine Venus-like looking forms that you see on the stages. We have artists who make a specialty of this, and in some very particular case they make a model of the actress, and th~'en perfect the model and then make the goods up.' A Frenchnman hias invented a gal vano-plastic process which, he thinks, will preserve the human body indefi nitely by inclosing it in an air-tight coat of mail- The body is first covered with a conducting substance, such as plumbago, or it is bathed with a solu tion of nitrate of silver, which, after de composition under the influence of .sun light, leaves a finely divided deposit ol metallic silver. It is then placed in a bath of sulphate of copper and con nected with several wires from a bat tery. The result is that the body is in cased in a skin of copper, which pre ven further change or ceeical action. MISSING LINKS. In a Fresno, Cal., barber shop they furnish music for the barbers to shave by. The agent of the Pgssamaquoddy In dians of Maine reports their number at 531, all farmers. Ex-Secretary Kirkwood, who has re tired from politics, is living at Iowa City, where he owns a bank In leveling a hill in*East Los Angeles, Cal., lately for the residence of Baron Roquiat, the workmeD uncovered a two foot edge of gold-bearing quartz, assay ing $3 at the surface. Some Indian arrow-heads were lately shown at the Societe d'Anthropologie which were poisoned with curare over a century ago, but still retained thei deadly power. Small animals sbratched with them died in half an hour. George M. Palmer, a Philadelphia baker, has buried six childreri and married a third wife within a year. The bridegroom, his son, and a journey man baker were all sick the day of the wedding; but Mr. Palmer managed to pull himself together sufficiently to go through with the ceremony. The food of Burmese peasants includes almost all kinds of reptiles. the grub of a ball-rolling beetle, a kind of ant which constructs nests of leaves in treetops (eaten in curries), and hill rats. The last named exist in such hordes that their consumption is almost a necessity to prevent the rats from eating the Burmese. Charles M. O'Connor, First-Lieuten ant of the Eighth Infantry, is the Poo Bah of the United States army. He is on duty at Fort Brown, Tex., where he serves in the multifarious roles of Post Adjutant, Post Treasurer, Post Range Officer. Actino Siognal Officer, Recrui' ing Officer, and Superintendent of the Post Schools, Mrs. Lily Macallister Laughton, Re gent of the Mount Vernon Association, is asserted to have "the smallest and most perfectly formed foot in America." She once gave one of her slippers to a charitable fair, where it was raffled for. The lucky number was secured by Bishop Potter's son Frank, who used his prize as a watch-case. A curious old coin was found near the lime kiln on North Main street, Cham bersburg, Pa. It has the inscription: "In commemoration of the extinction of Colonial slavery throughout the British dominions in the reign of William IV." The reverse side has the figure of a slave with his shackles broken, and the words: "This is the Lord's doing,1784." Mr. Blaine, while addressing a re uiion of Maine legislators lately, de plored the change from annual to bien nial elections and sessions of the legisla tures, saying: "People must govern themselves, or somebody will soon gov ern them, and there is no way to keep popular government fresh, strong, and effective like frequent and well-contested elections." M. de Lesseps, who is about to leave Paris for Panama, said in an interview with the Gaidois concerning the Isth mus Canal: "I do not anticipate any future obstacles. The eriod of experi ment is passed, and o y that of execu tion remains. Every one of the con tractors will have his work finished the 31st of 'December, 1888. I shall sail through the canal that day." George Tipton was a farmer in Madi son county, Kentucky, about twenty years ago. He became financially in volved, and went to West Indies. He secured control of a small island of the Bahama group which proved to be rich in phosphates, from which he amased great wealth. He ruled autocratically, and no woman or intoxicating lignor were permitted upon the island. The ruler of this Eyeless and prohibition Eden is now on a visit to his native state, and is expected to take back with him a blue-grass widow and a full sup ply of Kentucky Bourbon. The English hangman, Berry by name, is a tall, respectable-looking man, with the appearance of a me chanic. He is a shoemaker by trade, but does not work now, as the execu tioner is well paid. He gets $50a head, or, when there are more than one, $50 for the first, $25 for the second, and $25 for the third, with all expenses paid. The first essential is nerve, and Brry has nerve. Binns, who preceded him, was a braggart, and liked publicity. He would smoke his pipe outside half an hour before an execution, and drink, and had an active tongue. Now the executioner is obliged to sleep in jail the night before a hanging. Caleraft, who was famous for so many years, was also a shoemaker, and, like Berry, a quiet, retiring man. Mile. de la Ramee, known to novel readers as "Onida," is described by one who saw her on a Florence drive for the frst time as appearing "very much above the usual stature of women. Her face was marked by a nose decidedly aquiline, and abundant yellow hair. The figure was graceful and lithe. But such eyes! One moment they were a topaz-brown, and in the next second they were a misty-gray. The face would have ben a peasant though very unusual one but for the eerie, uncanny eyes. The lady is of spotless prsonal character. Her mother is Egih; her father was a French-Spaniad with good blood but bad morals. 'Ouida' devotes her life, outside her work, to her dogs and her mother, a pleasant-faced, white-haired old lady, who always goes to sleep in the warm, soft sunshine when she drives out with her masterful-looking daughter." Ex-Queen Isabella knows as little about polities as about the value of money. It is said that when once in the days of her power she ordered one of her ministers to send a poor professor $4,000 from her nearly exhausted treas ury the minister deter-mined to admin ister a much-needed lesson, and heaped the money in small silver coins upon a table by which the queen would be sure to pass. She stopped, surprised, and asked what all the money was for. "It is the money for the professor," said the minister. The queen understood the situation and smiled, but sent the money all the same. Once when one of her advisers was trying to impress on her that times were changing and new political ideas gaining .around, she ex claimed impatiently: 'NXell! 'Don't I know it? Of course the times chanoe. You never see me driving out now w't my white mules."-.