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TRI-WEEKLY E ORANOMOTHEK’8 KITCHEN, ■S > A WINNSBORO. S. 0.. MARCH 13. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 Silence reigned in the darkness, But out from the fireplace old. Up to the darkening raftdra, There shot a gleam of gold. Lighting the face of the dial On the ancient family clock, Showing the chairs and tables Of good old Puritan stock. The tins on the dresser shining, The sand on the whitened floor, An t grandfather’s fllnUock muskeg Above the high latched door. The splnnlog-wheel in the corner, The silhouettes on the wall, ^ And shining npon the dresser. Decanters straight and tall. — • The shadovrs danced and deepened. The corners filled with gloom, The sparks died out on the he^thstone And darkness filled the room. A MISCHIEF—fit AKER. itage her plau was fully formed, lie met Mrs. Adair, a thin, wiry lit- woman, with reddish hair, and 1, snapping eyes, onoe or twice, as as passing in and out, and ex- ;ed a civil greeting with her, but invite her in to call, dli-day evening she came without tation, as Miss Abby was get- ly to go out with Archie, ught rdjustruuin, neighborly- see if you were beginning to ome.” she said, uch : thank Miss you,” replied t’t got acquainted much yet, I one troublesome neighbor, and of its entire success, which they enjoyed to gether. Mrs. Curran did not promise not to tell, and some way the story crept out, until everybody knew Miss Abby’s re medy tor a mischief-maker. And before long, Mrs. Adair found her quarters so uncomfortable that she was glad to move to a more congenial locality, and Cedar Avenue waa rid of her for good and all. Amateur Doctoring, Two cheery, comfortable elderly la- iiiea met in a street car the other morn ing, both out on a shopping excursion. •'And so I hear," said plump little Mrs. Curran to her friend, “so I hear Abby. that you have been buying pro perty.” “Yes,” replied Miss Reeves. “I’ve been intending to do so for a good while, and Archie—that’s my nephew, you know, who lives with me has a good place new, only it was too far for him to walk, so we thought we’d Lave a little home in town. “Do you know where I-bonght ?” • No, I haven’t beard. “Where was it?" “The little house in Cedar avenue, that you lately moved from.” “Oh, Abby 1 “You did not buy that ?” “Yes. I did, “Got a bargain, too.” • Well, I never did hear the like.” “What’s the matter, Susan ? “Is there any objection to the house? ciiA ctalrAil “Oh, no, it’s a nice, cosy, convenient ll °“Water and everything handy, and a pleasant location. m - “It’s tue neighbors 1 object to.” “I thought they seemed nice people.” “Most of them are. But have you seen anything of the woman in the next bouse, Mrs. Adair ?” “I have seen her in lUe garden, that’s all. “You kr.ow we are just moving in, and are not ready for calls yet.” “Ob, she’ll not wait for that. “You know, Abby, I am not given to gossip, and that Adair woman nearly worried my life out.” “Well, how ? “Tell me, so that I can guard against her.” ' “Oh, yon can’t. I tried to, but it was no use. “Yon can’t insult her, and yon can t get rid of her,” “But what did she do ?” “Talked all the time 1 • “Told every bad thing she could about all the other neighbors, pried in to all th*"> affairs and then said all the naughty things she could pick up or make up, and kept a constant stream of tattle in my ears. I used to be very careful what I said, bat still I was al ways afraid she would repeat some in nocent remark and get me into hot wa- “Well, she won’t trouble me that way, T assure you l” said Mss. Abby Reeves grimly. “I’d like to see how you’ll help it 1 said Mrs. Curran. “But that’s not all, either. “Of course one wants to be obliging, but you know a regular borrowing neighbor is a nuisance. ” “Yes. indeed I’’ “Well, of all borrowing neighbors, you’ll find her the worst. “Why, she would even send in for my shoes and bonow my dresses to wear at church.” “I hope you were not silly enough to let her have them,” said Miss Abby, laughing. “I waa afraid te refuse her,*' said • Mrs. Curran. * “ “Oh, yon don’t guess the half 1 But I thought it best to tell you a little, s* that you could prepare for her.” “Very well, I'll do so. “We are neither one of us gossips Susan, so I shan’t like our neighbor any better than you did. “But I don’t propose to let her trou ble me.” “I wonder how you’ll help it ?” “Oh, 111 think of a plan ! You have forewarned me, so now I am forearmed, you know,” “I only hope you will succeed, that’s all. “Here’s my street.- “Get out and ootne home to dinner with me, do, Abby.” “Thanks, Susan, I would like tc do so, but Archie and I take our first din ner in our new home to-day, and I must not disappoint the lad. “Ill come over soon, though. “You come and see us toon, too.” “I will. “I shall be anxious to hear of tout success with Mrs, Adair.” The two friends said good-bye ant parted. , i Miss Abby went to her ooey new hornet thinking over what she had heard, end revolving in her .mind blan lot getting rid of her troublesome neighbor. By the time she had reached the little expect\,ti e> Those whom I have easant,” said Miss Abby, me * “ner bonnet, putting L ftome 0 f ’em. “Well Y'e getting ready to g© out, “1 B6e L j er y OU D ow, but I'll run so I wont next week, and have a iu ag in, with you. , . „ to see neighbors be “I alwa, neighborly “So do I.\ Mrs> Adair.” “Come “Yes, I wi^ Bt rnn ^ whenever “And do you feel like *Yytking you can use, “An’if I ha* J J j .st call fox it. ibliging," “That’s the “Thank you. “Good night, her visitor de] And when Arc walking down unpleasant imp: of their new visi' ed, and said she Adair would proye' Monday afternoo! sat at her sewing, and sat down for a nounoed her iutentii Presently she sp: chair and went to the 1 “Well, I do deoian there isn’t Mr. Glov Green’s again I “What does he do. d Miss Abby, as bile they were ., expressed the he had formed iss Abby laugh- >t believe Mrs. ilesome. Mrs. Abby 16 the lady, as sne had an- doing. p from her ow. cried, “if into Mrs. Staging in Arkaaias. g often 1 bad, Miss in Cali on a 1 sug- IT1 just lu won’t /er tell \dair, am that ito ,ie set HHP or ? “Got a wife of his o “Don’t you think it ! leevea, to see a marrii ady so frequently ?” “Perhaps they have gested Miss Abby. “Perhaps they haven’t “You see folks do say tell you the whole story, breathe it to a living soul “It’s awful, but you mn it, you know.” “Wait a moment,” said reaching over to her work taking out a small book “Now go on,” she said call her eyes on her visitor. “What’s that for ?” asked turning very red. To write down what you si always afraid I cannot remem; people tell me, but if I write 1 can repeat it just right But I said you must not re; a living soul !” cried the neigh “I shall be certain to tell it very first person I meet,” said M: bj solmnly. “If it interests me it will them, never 16se a chance of telling a any more than you do. Go on, ready to put it down.” “Well, you are the queerest w< ever I did see !” cried Mrs. Adair. “I’ll be mighty sure not to tell y single thing.” And away she flounced home, wi Miss Abby quietly put away her li book and laughed to herself. Mrs. Adair did uot return. But the next washing-day she her little boy in to borrow Miss Abb; olothes line. “Did you bring a penny, Sammy asked Miss Abby, taxing the line down! “No’m. “What for ?” queried Sammy. “IshaU make it a rule to ohange a lenny every time I lend your mother anything. When the article is brought tiaok. I’ll return the penny.” “I didn’t bring any,” said Sammy, hanging his head. “You can have the line without it this time, but next time you must bring it.” “Yesm.”- Sammy scudded oft In twenty minutes he returned the line, saying— “Mammy says she don’t w»nt dratted old olothea-line.” “All right. “Gang it up there, Sammy,’ Miss Abby calmly. The next time she met Mrs. Adair, that lady would not speak to her, so ahe concluded she w c now well rid of her troublesome neighbor. Not long after she encountered Mrs. Curran in a shop, Mrs. Curran came to her, laughingly— “What is this terrible tale 1 heat about you, Abby ?” “I don’t know. “What is it ?” asked Abby. “Mrs. Adair says you tell everything that’s told you, and even take notea to make the stories bigger, and she says yOn charge a penny every time a neigh bor sends in to borrow anything of you.” - Nearly convulsed with laughter, Miss Abby told Mrs. Curran o* the foiiny plan she had formed to get rid of this “Do you think this habit of self-doc toring decreases the practice of physi cians?” “By no raea™' The effect is rather to increase our work. People who think to do without the services of a physician will uot only do themselves harm by the delay, but also with the medicines which they do not know how to use. It is like a man trying to mend a leak in a water pipe by soldering it with the poker. He generally makes the hole bigger. It is, of course, the difficult part of the physician’s duty to diagnose the disease, to tell what is the real trou ble with the patient. It is not nnoom mon for even educated physicians to make mistakes in this respect The science of medicine has progressed so far that every part of the human body has been pretty thoroughly studied, and the treatment of the ailments of each part is a specialty. It ip impossible for one physician to know all these diseases as well as the specialists, and it is a common practice among honest physi cians to refer patients to those who have made a special study of the diseases which afflict them. It is not uncommon for a man to go from one physician to another in the vain effort to discover his ailment. Acmeiimeb » patient will be treated by successive physicians for the wrong ailment, because some of the symptoms of different diseases are sim ilar. How unlikely is it, therefore, that persons who have not studied med icine can find out what ails them.” “Which do you think do the most self-doctoriug, women or men?” “Women, decidedly, especially moth ers and old women. The reckless tem erity of some women in this respect is wonderful They rush iu where angels fear to tread. Hastily judging from a few symptoms that a case resembles oue which the family doctor has treated, they will hunt up an old prescription and administer the dose to some confid ing husband or helpless child. I could tell you some amusing stories of the mistakes that are made in this way, as well as some instances where more serious consequences resulted. Take, for iliustration, a headache It may oome from a dozen different causes— from hunger, from indigestion, from over-excitement of the brain, from eat ing too muob, from inhaling fool air. The remedy for a headache varies with its cause. Yet you will find women who have a universal panacea for headache, regardless of tne cause. Beware of such women.” “With what medicines is the most harm done?” “Opiates and aperients. The health- lessnesa with which morphine in various forms is now administered in families is alarming. The doctor comes to attend a patient who is iu pain. He proscribes morphia, and directs its use, and the patient is relieved. This is enough to start the average matron on a course of fell destruction with morphia. As for paragoric and laudanum, the amount if stupefaction that is practiced upon dren by their sue is so common as most to cease to attract attention, 'erbaps the child is naturally peevish, is cutting teeth, or has some infantile ent; out comes the paregoric or g syrup bottle, and before long small dose ceases to have effect. larger doses are given .until the rtunate youngster's system is satu' A correspondent from New Orleans writes as follows,completion of the ’Frisco railroad St. Louis to Van Buren, Ark., is a practical abolition of the old stage line from Fayetteville to Alma, on the Fort Smith and Little Rock railroad. This old route, passiug through the virgin forests of western Arkansas, and &v«sJLworaugea of moun tains, is replete wjfti the most beautiful scenery as ASS' road winds its rugged oourse over mountains and valleys for nearly 1<X) miles. About two yearsago, having enjoyed-the ot the justly celebrated Emekn spnngs, and hearing so much about this wild, picturesque connfey, 1 concluded to endure the hardships of the long stage ride and re turn home by this route. At Fayette ville I transferred myself from a Pull man to a seat in the cumbersome stage; the mail bags were saiely stowed away, and promptly at 2 P. M. the driver took his seat and our four horses started iu a lively trot; we realised that our journey had begun. There were two other passengers. One was a mild-eyed gentleman of dig nified reserve, who proved to be a college professor, while the other wore a flannel, checkered overahiit, and his pantaloons were tucked into a pair of heavy ooarse boots, evidently a laborer. The profes sor explained that he was employing his summer’s vacation iu se< tiring speomena with which to enrich his entomological botanical collections. We reached the summit of the first range of mountains just at sunset, and paused until the sun sank beneath the horizon, the most gor- geons scene 1 ever witnessed. No one can boast of having seen a glorious sun set until he has viewed one from a mountain top on a dear summer evening. We resumed our journey, and directly the moon arose like a great ball of fire, that lighted up mountains and valleys with indescribable beauty. I had taken my seat on the box with the driver, that I might the bettor enjoy the view, and t the same time escape the jargon of the professor, who was focusing his learning upon our friend of the check ered snirt. In making a steep ascend we passed along a very narrow ledge overlooking a chasm so deep that the light of the moon failed to penetrate the cavernous dark ness. I you, but if you will examine the lining of that gentleman’s hat, you’ll find some money." The professor collared the fellow, but the robber pulled him away, and taking the hat found the $1,100, which so pleased them that they kindly told us to go>here we wished. Indignant at the traitorous conduct of the renegade, we refused to let him ride with us and left him We reached Alma just too lata for the train, and had to lay over until the next day. Late that evening, as the professor and I were sitting in the bffioe of the hotel to our surprise in walked thoHMldw that had acted so basAy, looking none the better for his long tramp. Coming toward us he begged us for heaven’s sake to give him a few micutes in a private room, as he had something of great importance to com municate. There was sueh an impres sive earnestness in his manner that we yielded a reluctant consent, We went to our room and, after closing the door, he sat dbwn and drew off a boot, out of which he took a false sole, and then pro duced a long thin package wrapped iu oil-skin. “Here gentlemen,” said he, “are five one thousand dollar bills, and I have the same number in the other boot. Ead those scoundrels carried ont their inten tion of stripping us, I would haye been ruined. Allow me to hand you two thousand dollars for the eleven hundred you lost through me. Under the cir cumstances, as they appeared, I cannot blame you for the thirty mile walk you forced me to take,” He then explained he was a broker from Leadvilie returning from New Or. leans on a visit, and had assumed that rough garb iu order to divert attention should he encounter robbers, Of oourse we complimented him on his presence ot mind and sagacity, and congratulated each other that we had escaped so for tunately. klcjralry at Home. The Duke and Duchess of Albany, England, appear to be the victims of superstitious fancies. Their wedding was inconveniently hurried on, in order that it might take place in April, as the Queen entertained a prejudice against the ceremony being celebrated in May. it is a fitting sequel to this fad that Her the tragedy of Prises Napoleon. It was in 1846 that Prince Jerome first set foot iu Paris in company with his father, who claimed of the goyetu- ment of Louis Pillippe a military pen sion, which was accorded to him. He lived in the Rue Mogader—then the Rue d’ Alger—and so quietly that be mmself used to open the door to hk visitors. In 1848 Prince Jerome was elected debuty for the Yonne, and then came the oonp d’etat, by which, although innocent thereof, he greatlv profited. But thj^ prince soon bee. i~e vastly un- It is popular with the Imperial' party. Hk. M'* u: ‘** opinions were regarded by them with Onr FOOD FOR THOUGHT. by the company he No one is fatigued after the exercise of forbearance. It is weak and vicious people who oast the blame on fate. A man is known keeps away from. Those ar6 the most hqporable who are the most useful. In the exchange of thought use no coin but gold and silver. It is chance that males brothers, but that make friends. . ..Majesty, remembering _ . We paused to admire the awful Princess Charlotte, is understood to be grandeur of the scene, and while the I aTerse to the Duchess being laid up at professor’s head was stuck out of the | Claremont; so H. R. H. is coming up to en with your said saying with the drug, and totally de- What puzzles me Is the fact people are uot afraid to meddle such a delicate -organism as the body. Few persons who haye would attempt to repair them, should get out of order; yet they delicate mechanism of their ies with the recklessness of th attempting to adjust a ohron- Tbe evil is widespread, am, not only the oases I have aliud ut nany other more difficult am ms than these.” Politeness or swedes. edish men and gentlemen are singularly handsome and po- extreme, writes a oorreepon Chicago News. A peasant t order never passes a fel without a polite lifting of i matters not whether they highway or the field * in the their hurry and toil this ference cue for the other is ten. I remember very wel 'hnrsby was in Gothenburg she stood at my window, □ds a view of the entire principal street in ’the laugh as she stool crowds coming and going, ' — to me to oome and see to the window am - she had seen which so ibilities. “Why,” said uevi whiol long Wi and this 1 asked exoil she, walkin taking “Yes," usual She aa sue f< rooted tested ing for peasants in blouses middle of the street, i to each other 1 “that is nothing uu- tom of the country.’, believe it more than when, shortly after, :e custom was fast politeness she pro- * of and warm Uk- window in silent admiration, his silk hat I 'ell off, struck the ground, bounced over the brink and disappeared from view in the darkness below. He jumped out and appeared as though ihohned to follow it, and begged ns, in the most pitiful man ner, to get it for him. Considering the trival loss of the hat, his anxiety ap pealed most ridiculous. We finally dis covered it caught iu some bushes, ten feet below, and entirely beyond reaeh. 1 Jpon the professor’s ottering $25 for its recovery, the driver took the reins from us horses, and tied them together, and, securing onaend to a tree and the other around his body, let himself down, and presently appeared with the hat, to the great joy of the owner, who cheerfully laid the reward. He then explained that he had been boarding up two years salary iu anticipation cf this summer’s excursion, and, as we all seemed honest : riends, he pid uot mind owning that he had $1,000 sewed in the lining of the hat. Renewing our journey, about mid night, we reached the summit of the Boston Mountains, where we changed horses and ate supper. The stages going and returning usually met m the valley, about six miles beyond this point, and not more than 10 days previous to tnis time both stages had been waylaid and robbed. But the robbers had been sub sequently captured on tne Iron Mountain Railroad. We discussed the incident and congratulated ourselves, that the land had been broken up, and that we were in no danger of being called upon to part vith our valuables. Starting with a fresh team we rattled down into walk as they began an ascent on the otherside. Suddenly from behind a tree sprang an object that seized the reins of the horse, and from behind another ap peared a man with a shot-gun. Promptly at the word of command our hands went above our heads. Advancing closer and keeping us within range, he called out: “Pitch down that mail and express, and be quick about R. The driver appeared paralyzed with fear, while I replied as oooly as I could under the circumstances, as the fellow was very near aud the bore of his gun looked fearfully large: “We have no treasure on board,” At the same time i was swaying from aide to aide to keep out of range. 'Does she look like a ooupie of can non?” said the fellow holding the horses with an ugly grin. “Yes,” said I, recollecting an al manse joke 1 had read many years ago. “I can read the advertisement on toe wad ding. “Come, no nonsense," growled the other; “sick down the treasure or I’ll drop you off o’ there.” As he would not allow me to use my hands, I kicked out the msil-bags and other plunder in the boot While he was examining the booty, I managed to get out of my vest pocket a small roll of bills—all 1 had—and again throwing bp my hands succeeded in getting it down between my neck and collar. The fel low, disappointed at not finding anything of value, declared that we had valuables concealed about us, aud ordered us on the ground. We all obeyed, and stood iu a line with onr hands still elevated, and the villain covered ns with his gun while his partner went through our pockets. From tne professor he secured a microscope and a pocket knife; from our passenger in the boot 70 oents and apiece of tobacco; while i, unfortu nately, had only a toothpick. “You paupers!” exclaimed he with Buckingham Palace for a few weeks. If the Duke and Duchess are to be blessed with a large family they will find it very inconvenient and expensive to be forced to move away from home for eacn accouchement. Before long Parliament will have to be asked for a grant for Prince Albert Victor. Accord ing to the precedents of the Princess Charlotte and her present Majesty the allowance should have been demanded, before this. Except in the case of Prin cess Beatrice the only members of the royal family who now have a claim on the country are the children of the Prince of Wales, Wnb regard to titles, the only prece dent for the young Prince is that of Frederick, Prince of Wales. When George I. ascended the throne in 1774 be created his sou Prince of Wales and Duke and Marquis of Cambridge. In 1716 the Prince’s eldest son, Frederick, then ten years old, was created Duke of Gloucester, and, nine years latter, Duke of Edinburgh, Marquis of Ely, Earl of Eltham, Viscount Launceston and Baron Snowdon. At his death all these peer ages descended to his eldest sooJGeorge, then a boy of thirteen, who was directly afterward created by George IL Prince of Wales and Earl of Chester, and who, nine years later, succeeded to the throne. The ostensible cause of the Duke of Edinburgh’s early arrival at Berlin was the ueoesaity for his attendance at the Chapter of the Black Eagle last Thurs day, but I understand that the real reason was a desire to conclude the ne gotiations which have recently been going on for the sale to the German government of His Royal Highness re versionary interest in the suceession to the Grand Duchy of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. The transaction was on the point of completion when the Queen visited Baden-Baden iu 1876, but it col lapsed on a dispute about a pecuniary detail. Cleorgla. opinions were regarded by distrust, and he displayed in his charac ter rather the craft of the statesman than the generous courage of the mili tary man. He served, however, as every body knows, in the Crimea as well as iu the Italian campaign. At the beginning of the war the Emperor Napoleon HL sent Prince Jerome to his father-in-law. King Victor Emmanuel, to beg a con tingent of 100,000 men, and when the ill-starred monarch waa interned in Prussia, his cousin wrote to him to ask to be allowed to share his seclusion. Then he was elected deputy for Corsica, and would doubtless have been chosen for a second time but for the well-known letter of the late Prince Impend writ ten at M. Rouher’s dictation. Soon after ward Prince Jerome left his apartment, which looked on the Parc Monceau, and moved to No 20 Avenue d’Ant in. The salon, hung in red, and containing eight busts of the First Napoleon, is described as exceedingly striking. Its principal piece of furniture is a large armoire, filled wi th a variety of articles that once belonged to the founder of his family, and to his father, King Jerome. Next to the drawingroom is the study or library, ou the book shelves of which are ranged the works of the great em peror, profusly annotated by the prince’s own hand. Now for a portrait of the tenant him self : A larger man than either the first Napoleon or his father, Prince Jerome resembles the latter mors than the for mer, though in his earlier years his ikeuess to the great emperor was simp- y extraordinary. His expression is placid and often extremely agreeable, out now and then the fire of the Coisi- oan bums iu his eye and his finely chiseled mouth adds to the intensity of his loot. The prince is 57 years of age, uot yet gray, though somewhat bald. His head, says Ignotus, is a sup erb oue, worthy alike of the prince aud the thinker, aud second only in what the enthusiastic reactionary writer calls aristocratic beauty to that of tho Comte de Chambord. At home he usually walks to aud fro while conversing, smok ing cigarettes, 'and keeping one or both hands iu his pockets. Suddenly he stops before tho visitor ; his language becomes animated and even vehement, while his words teem with color and picturesqueness. He never laughs but only smiles. The prince has a wonder ful collection of anecdotes at his dis posal in tho street Prince Jerome may be recognized by his broad-brimmed hat; mincing along, he will suddenly quicken his steps when he is deep m thought. He rides every morning, being accom panied on Thursdays by his two sons. Although a fair horseman, he does not shine particularly iu the saddle. The prince is a faithful friend, and among those who are welcome guests at the Avenue d’An tin are M. Emile Ollivier, Baron Boyer, General de Ohanal, Col onel titottel, M. Renan and M. Alfred Arago. How it la vooe. ruing you the gun, m disgust, “you're hardly worth killing, so we'll let you tramp into town as rich as when you first came into the world. Puli off every rag yor have aud be quiak about it, or I may con clude to waste a little powder and lead on you. At this tho man in the checkered shirt exclaimed: “O— duds won’t bo worth much to A Georgia paper publishes official sta tistics showing the agricultural growth of Georgia, and contrasting her products oi 1870 with those of 1882. According to these figures, the State shows an in crease of over 200 per cent, in com, 600 per cent in oats, 200 in wheat, 75 in rye, 100 in Irifh potatoes, 800 in cane and sorghum, 400 in sweet potato as, and a similar increase in the yield ot other farm and garden products. In 1870 Georgia raised 478,034 bales of ootton. In 1880 the State raised 814,441 bales of ootton, nearly 100 per cent increase in ten years, ranking aa the second pro ducing State. “In 1882 the ootton production grew to 925,448 bales, the increase being accomplished with di minished acreage, The crop of 1880 was raised on 2,617,188 acres, while that 1882 was raised on 2,362,425 acres. Horses have increased 20 per sent., mules 51 per cent., milk cows 86, other cattle 32, sheep 26 and swine 49 per cent. In 18 <0 Georgia had 70,000 farms, iu 1880 she had 189,000. The estimated value of farm products in 1870 was $80,- 000,600, in 1880 it swelled to $125,000,- 000, _ Tne Honeymoon. The word 1 ‘honeymoon’’ is traceable to a Teutonic origin. Amen" the Teu tonic waa a favorite drink called *‘me- tneglin.” It was made of honey, and muon like the present mead of European oouatrios. The same beverage was in te among the Saxons, as well as an other called “morat,” which wa» also mMe of honey, but flavored with mul- berries. The honeyed drinks were used in great abundance of festivals. Among the nobility the marriage was celebrated a whole lunar month, which waa called a moon, during which the fee tire board waa well supplied with the honey drink. Hence this month of festival was osiied the "honamoou,” or honeymoon, which means a month of festival. Suppose a girl tries to fill a kerosene lamp without first blowing it out. Of course, the lamp is nearly empty, or she would not care .to Uli it. This empty space is filled with a cloud of explosive vapor arising from the oil in the lamp. When she pushes the nozzle of the can into the lamp at the too and begins to pour, the oil, running into the lamp, fills the space, and pushes the cloud of explosive vapor up; the vapor js obliged to pour out over the edges of thq lump ut the top, into the room outside. Of oourse, it strikes against the blazing wick which the girl is holding down by one side. The blaze of the wick sets the invisible cloud of vapor afire, am there is an explosion which ignites the oil ands oatters it over her clothes and over the furniture of the room. This is the way iu which a kerosene lamp bursts. The same thing may occur when a girl pours the oil over the fire in the range or stove, if there is a cloud oi explosive avpor m the upper part of the oau, or if the stove it not enough to vaporize quickly some of the oil as it fails. Remember that it is not the oil bat the invisible vapor which explodes. Taking care of the oil will uot protect you. There is no safety except in this rule: Never pour oil on a lighted fire or into a lighted lamp. I'oetry And aunuav Hioopfn)*. —“Bo you don t publish poetry in your paper, Colonel?” said an acquain tance to an Arkansas editor. “No, sir; 1 stopped some time ago, bat at one time my paper was known for its poetic contributions. I had one contributor whose work ranked with the best in the country. His sentiment was pure and his diction perfect, I had never seen him, and he became so popular that at the request cf my wife I invited him to visit us. There was nothing patticularly striking in his appearsnoe, but his eyes had/ a dreamy, lingering expression that greatly pleased my wife.’ “Didn’tyou Uke him?” asked the acquaintance when the Colonel paused. “Liked him weii enough at first; but he insulted mo.” • How?” “Why, sir, the second uight after his arrival he got up while I waa asleep and. stole my bunday breeches. Since thou I have uot printed a line of poetry.” To get a few flowers one must sow plenty of seed. Money, in truth, can do muoh, but it cannot do all. Inordinate demands should be met with bold denials. A loving heart is better and stronger ban wisdom. Our deeds determine us as much as we determine our deeds. Speaking muoh and speaking to the point are very different. You should ask the world’s leave before you commend yourself. He who has the reputation of early may sleep till noon. Gold is either the fortune or the ruin of mankind, according to its use. If you wish to remove avance must remove its mother—luxury. Somebody else will if I don’t. This is one of the devil’s pet proverbs. Cast no dirt into the well that has given water when you were thirsty. It is no point of wisdom in a man to beat his brains about things impossi ble. x As too long retirement weakens the mind, so too muoh company dissipates it. 'frees in the forest may be barren, but trees in the garden should be fruit ful. Only an inventor knows how tc bor row, and every man is, or should be, an inventor. The prompt performance of duty iu the past is the beat pledge for future faithfulness. It is with happiness us with watches; the less complicated the less easily de ranged. There are more fools than sages; and among the sages there ia-tnore folly than wisdom. Keep appointments. Ba on hand at the hour named. Punctuality is one ot the levers to success. True goodness is like the glow-worm, it shines most when no eyes save those of heaven are upon it. There are three ways of getting out of a scrape—write out, back out, aud the best way is to keep out. A man that hoards riches dhd enjoys them not, is like an ass that carries gold and eats thi a tlea. All praise wrongly directed, or sug gested by selfish motives, is an inju rious element in sooiety. The superiority of some men is merely oeal. They are great because their associates are little. The disposition to give a cup of cold water to a disciple ia a far no bier prop erty than the finest intellect. The best etiquette for a man is uot to boast of his virtues, and not to show off his power to one weaker than him self. A cheerful temper, joined with inno cence, will make beauty attractive, knowledge delightful and wit good- natured. A right education is not merely the reading of many hooka, but the ability of making knowledge useful to ourselves aud others. Opposition is what we want, and must have to be good for anything. Hardship is the native soil of manhood and self-reliance. The perfection of conversation is not to play a regular sonata, but, like the .Eolian harp, to await inspiration of the passing breeze. The one serviceable, safe, certain, remunerative, attainable quality of every study and every pursuit w the quality of attention. The divine providence of the Lord operates in the most minute particulars of the thoughts aud actions of men, and thereby it operates umyersally. Heaven commences when a man truly repents. Then is the dawn of an everlasting day; then is the beginning of that which shall be perfected after death. Books are the most discreet of all friends; they visit us without intrusion, and, though often rudely put aside, are as prompt to serve and please aa ever. It ia one thing to love truth, and to seek it, tor its own sake, and quite another te welcome as much of it as tallies with our impressions and pre judices. The worst of ingratitude lies not in the ossified heart of him who commits it; but we Audit in the effect it pro duces on him against whom it was committed. • The moralist says: “Every man is oc casionally what he ought to be perpetu ally.” Then again some men are per petually what they ought to be occa sionally. If we practice goodness not for the sake of its own intrinsic excellence, but for the sake of gaining some ad vantage by it, we may be cunniag, but we are uot good. ThU life ia too full of work, of duty, and of pleasure, to be wasted. Cer tainly, it is never a waste of time to meet one’e friends, to chat and have a good tame with them. The family naan resembles an oyster ou the haif-shelL The shell is known at home, but the soft-aide abroad. Some men oairy this resemblance in their laces. A greet many men have countenances like oysters. Real foresight consists in reserving our own foroes. If we labor with anxiety about the future, we dee troy that strength which will enable ua to meet the future. If we take more iu hand now than we can do well, we break up, and the work ia broken up with