The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, March 13, 1883, Image 1
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