Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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t YV 1 1 Invitations, AeoeptmnoM and Rasrvw It is not a correct practice, atter a cold is caught, to make the room a person sits in, much warmer than usual, to increase Hie quantity of bedclothes, wrap up in flannel, and drink a large quantity of hot tea, gruel, or other slops, because it will invariably increase the feverishness, and in the majority ot instances, prolong, rath er then lessen, the duration of the cold. It is well known that confining inoculated persons in warm rooms will make their smallpox more violent by augmenting the general heat and fever; and it is for the same reason that a similar practice in the present complaint is attended with ana logous results, a cold being in reality a slight fever. In some parts of England, among the lower order of the people, a large glass of cold spring water, taken on going to bed, is found to be a successful remedy, and in fact, many medical prac titioners recommend a reduced atmosphere, and frequent draughts ot cold fluid, as the most efficacious remedy for a recent cold, particularly when the patient's habit is full and plethoric. It is generally supposed that it is the exposure to a cold or wet atmosphere which produces the effect called cold, whereas it is returning to a warm temper ature after exposure, which is the real 3ause of the eviL When a person m the cold weatbtr goes into the open air, every time he draws in his breath the cold air passes through his nostrils and windpipe, into the lungs, and consequently diminishes the heat of these parts. As long as a per son continues in the cold air, he feels no bad effects from it; bat as soon as he re turns home, he approaches the fire to warm himself, and very often lakes some warm and comfortable drink to keep out the cold, it is said. The inevitable conse quence is, that he will find ho has taken cold. He feels a shivering which makes him draw nearer the tire, but all to no purpoee; the more he tries to heat him self, the more he chills. All the mischief is here caused by the violent action of the heat. To avoid this, when you come out ot a very cold atmosphere, you should uot at first go into a room that lias fire in i% or, if you cannot avoid that, you should keep tor a considerable tin e at as great a dist ance as possible, and above aU, refrain from taking warm or strong liquors wnen you are cold, 'i bis rule is founded on the same principle as the treatment of any part of the body when frost bitten. If it were brought to the fire it would soon mor tify, whereas, ii~ rubbed with snow, uo Dad consequences follow from it. Hence, if the following rule were strictly ob served—when the whole body, or any part of it is chilled, bring it to its natural feeling and warmth by degrees—the fre quent colds we experience m winter would, in a gnat measure be prevented. Tha uid. Seventy-four years ago Spain was barbarously bereft of a treasure that every true Castilian prized for above rubies. During the French invasion certain Napoleonic legionaries broke open the tomb at Burgos containing the remains of Buy Diaz de Biver; the Cid Campeador, amt of his wife, the Count less Ximena, emptied the coffius in search of valuables, and eventually left the bones of the illustrious dead scattered about the floor of tne vault in which this sacrilegous aet was com mitted. Prince Salm-Dyck, who hap pened to be at Burgos at the time, and a French oflicer named La Marttllet, careiully collected the “disjecta mem bra,” which the Prince subsequently deposited in a small sarcophagus ex actly copied, by bis airectioi s. from that in which the coffins haa reposed for 706 years. During his life-time Prince Salin kept the secret of this sarcophagus, which atter his death came into the possession of Prinoe An ton von Hohenzollern, the King of Koumanla’s father, by special request. The strangest episode in this remarka ble story is yet to come. One day last summer, as Dr. Lauser, a German art journalist, was going through the mag- uicent collection of antiquiues at Sig- maringen Castle, his attention was at tracted by a small bat elaborately carved stone sarcophagus, bearing npon its hd ths effigies of a lolly armed knight and a richly-attired lady. Inquiring into the history of this object, he was in formed that it contained some relics of the famous Cid Rodrigo. Through one of his Spanish acquaintance, the acade mician Tubino, Lauser at once impart ed the where-abonts of this repository and its contents to King Alfonso, who lost no lime in preferring an urgent re - quest to the Prince of Hohenzollern lor their restoration to Spain. It is scarcely necessary to add that his Roy al Highness readily acceeded to the Spanish monarch's wishes in a matter so deeply interesting to Spain trom a national point of view. The engraving ot invitation cards has become the important function of more than one enterprising firm in every city, so that It seems very unnecessary to say more than that the most plain and simple style of engraving the necessary words is all that is requisite. The English ambassador at Rome has a plain, stiff, unglazed card of a large size, on which is engraved, “Sir Augustus and Lady Paget request the honor of— com pany en Thursday evening, November 16, at 10 o’clock. The favor of an answer is requested.” The name of the invited guest is written in the blank space left before the word, “company.” Many entertainers in Amer ica keep these blanks or half-engraved in-* vitations always on hand, and thus save themselves the trouble of writing. Many hostesses prefer, however, to write their own dinner invitations, and the for mula should always be, “Mr. aud Mrs. Henry' Brown request ths pleasure of Mi. and Mrs. Jones’ company at dinner No vember 16, at 7 o’clock.” These invitations should be immediately answered, and with a peremptory accept ance or a regret, iv ver enter into any discussion or prevision with a dinner in vitation. Never write saying “you will come if you do not have to leave town,” or that you “will try to come.” or that “one of us cannot come.” Simply say, “Mr. and Mrs. James Jones, accept with pleasure the polite invitation of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Brown for dinner on Novem ber 16 at 7 o’clock;” or, if there is any probability of your being unable ts accept, regret in the same formal fashion. After having accepted a dinner invita tion, if illness or any other cause inter feres with your going to dinner, send an immediate note to your hoetess that she may fill your place. Never selfishly keep the place open for yourself if there is a doubt about your going It has often made or marred the pleasure of a dinner party, this hesitancy on the part of a guest to send her hostess in time her re grets, caused by the illness of a child, or the coming of h cold, or some other im pending calamity. Remember always that a dinner is a most formal compliment; that it is the highest social distinction; that it is of great consequence t j the host ess; that it must be therefore met in the same formal spirit. It precludes the ne cessity of a call on her part. Some young neophytes in society, having been asked to dinner, have asked if they should call afterward, as their hostess had not called on them. Of course they should, the in vitation to dinner is equivalent to many calls. It seems almost unnecessary to say so self evident a thing, but os we have heard the question debated, we may as well say, Answer the person who sends you the in vitation. A young lady once, on receiv ing an invitation to a wedding from Mrs. John Jones, asked if she should answer Mrs. John Jones or the bride. Of course she had nothing to say to the bride; the answer was to be addressed to Mrs. John Jones. Always carefully observe the formula of your invitation, and always answer it exactly. As to the card of the English au’bassador, a gentleman would write, “Mr. Algernon Gracie will do himself the honor to accept the distinguished invita tion of Sir Augustus and Lady Paget.” In America he would be leas formal, say ing, “Mr. Algernon Gracie will have much pleasure in accpting Mr. and Mrs. Henry Brown’s polite invitation.” We notice thet on all foreign cards the “B. 8. V P.” is omitted, and the plain English sentence is written »ut or engraved, “The favor of an answer is requested. ” In this country the invitations to a din ner are always in the name of both host and hostess, but the invitations to a ball and to an “at home,” a tea, or a garden party, are invariably only in the name of the hostess. To a wedding the names of engagement rill deprive her ot the very great pleasure of accepting the polite invi tation of Mm. Jones.” No one should, in the matter of accept ing or refusing an invitation, economize his politeness, it is better to err on the other side. Your friend has done his very best in inviting you. Ths question often comes up. Should cards and invitations be sent to people In mourning! The answer is, Yes, they should. Of course no one can be so heart less as to intrude a gay invitation upon a person who has a death in t he house under a month. But after that, although it Is a mere idle compliment, the compliment should be paid. As invitations are sent out generally written by a clerk or a hired amanuensis, a lady should carefully revise her list, that no names of persons de ceased should be written on' them, but the members of the family who remain and who have suffered a loss should be care- fully retained, aud invitations sent to them, excepting, of course, dinner invita tions. After a year of mourning the be reaved family should seuti out cards marked in black to all who have thus re membered them. The In Alan Winter Game. both host and hostess are given; and if a father who is a widower entertains for his daughter, his name and hers appear on the same card for dinners, receptions, and “at homes;’’ his alone for her wedding, and his and hers together on all other cards. Many widowed fathers with daughters issue their invitations without the names of the young 1 allies, however. It is never the custom for very youne ladies to invite guests, especially gentle men, in their own name. All notes should be written in the father’s name. An el derly sister a . the head of the house can issue invitations in her own name. The word ‘ ball” Is never used on a card. The words “At Home," with “Co tillion” or “Dancing” in one corner, and Tb* care of Farm Machinery. We have noticed that plows last, on an average, about three years; wagons, eight to ten years; reapers, five to eight; drills, eight to ten. We think these figures Are fully as large as the truth warrants. We know of many implements that have not lasted so long, and of many which have lasted much longer. We to-day can point to wagons that have been in constant and hard use for twenty years, reapers that have stood the wear and t«W of lib eral nse for more than fifteen years, drills that have been in use as long, and other agricultural Implements that have stood the wear of fully twice the average age of such implements. These implements were not made of unusually good materials nor were thev suffered to he idle. Tliey were pul to constant use. What, then, is the secret of their greater endurance? It is simply this—they were taken care of. When not in use they were put away, and put away properly. 'These implements not only lasted longer, but while they were in use they very rarely failed. They were always ready for work. The reapers did not break down in the middle of harvest and compel all hands to lie idle while some one went to the railway station to get re pairs; the drills d.d not fail just when the wheat ought to be sown; the wagons were not always breaking down and occasion ing delays and vexation. Another thing may be said in their favor, and that is that they alwa> s did good work. The reapers cut a smooth stubble and pul the grain down In good condition; the plows did uot refuse to scour; the dribs put the wheat in just as a first-class drill would; and these implements did good work not only while they were new, but till the las] year they were in use. —Out of nearly 87,000,000 of people is the United States above ten yean of age, 6,000,000 are reported unable to read, and over 6,000,000 unable to wnte. God Is glorified not by our groans, bat oar thanksgivings; and all good thoughts and all good actions claim a natural alliance with good cheer the hour and date, are alone necessary. If it is to be a small informal dance, that should also be indicated in one corner Officers, members of the hunt, bache lors, members of a club, heads of commit tees, etc., always request the pleasure or honor of your company. It is not proper for a gentleman to describe himselt as “at home.” He must “request the pleasure.’’ In asking lor an invitation to a ball for fnends, ladies must be cautious not to In trude too far, nor to feel offended if re fused. Often a hostess has a larger list than she'ean fill, and she is not sole to ask all whom she would wish. There fore a very great discretion is to be ob served on the part of those who ask such A favor. A lady may always ask for an invitation for a distinguished stranger, or for a young dancing man, if she can an swer for him in every way, but rarely for a married couple, and almost never for a H married couple living in the same city. Invitations to evening or day receptions are now generally mads on “at home” cards. Those to “teas” on the lady’s own visiting cards. The hour and the style of entertainment—as “Music,” or, If in the afternoon, “Lawn Tennis," or “Garden Party"—are engraved in the left-hand corner, or written by the lady. As for wedding invitations, they are al most invariably sent out by the parents of the bride, engraved in small script on note- paper. The style can always be obtained of a fashionable emrraver. They should be sent out a fortnight before the wedding day, and are not to be answered save by card unless the guests are requested to attend a sit- down breakfast, then the an swer must be explicit, as for a dinner. Invitations to luncheon are generally written by the hostess on her own note- paper, aud are intended to be Informal, as luncheon is a somewhat inconsequent in formal meal. Somehow, however, lunch eon is so grand and ceremonious that the invitations are engraved, and must be seut long before, and answered immediately. No lady having accepted an lav nation to a sit-down lunch will absent herself care lessly any more than she would from a dinner. There is a large stand-up lunch, however, from which a person could be more reulily excused if obliged to disap point at the last moment. Punctuality in keeping these engage ments cannot be too thoroughly insisted upon. In sending a “regret” be particu-. lar to word your note most respectfully. Never write the word “regrets ’ on your card, unleaa you wish to insult your host ess. Send a card without any pencilling upon it, or write a note thus; “Mra. Brown regrets deeply that she is unable to accept Mrs. Jones’ very kind invitation,” or “Mrs. Brown regrets that a previous The boys of the United States and Canada are indebted to the Tndmna for a number of their most interesting sports. But while many of their gamee are well known, the Tnrinrpa still have others peculiar to themselves, and with whioh even their near neighbors are but slightly acquainted. Throwing the snow-snake is one of the latter. The “snow-snake,” or ka-tvhani, as it is called in the Onondaga dialect, is made on the principle of the sleigh-runner, and oomsists of a long hickory pole or stick, with a slight upward carve and point at one end. while the other is provided with a small notch. The under side is made flat and smooth, so as to slip easily over the snow or ice, upon which, when skillfully thrown, it will slide for a long distance. To make it glide still more easily, the nnder surface is waxed and rubbed with a piece of cloth until beautifully smooth and polished. The pointed end is furnished with a tip of lead or solder, sometimes of a very fancy design. The length and weight of the snow-snake varies in pro portion to the strength of the person for whose use it is intended. Those made for young boys are not more than four or live feet long, while for larger boys and young men they range from six to eight feet in length. They are made somewhat tapering, being largest near the curved end, where they are usually about an inch or an inch and a quarter in width; while they diminish gradually until, at the notched end, the width is not more than five-eighths or three-quar ters of an inch. In throwing, the ka-whant is held at the smaller end by the thumb and first and second fin gers. At the Indian Reservation in Onon daga County, New York, where the winters are long and usually severe, the snow-snake is a great favorite, and continuous source of amusement. As soon as the jingle of the bells is heart along the frozen highway, and the run ners of the heavy “bobs” and wood' sleighs have furrowed the roads with deep, polished grooves, the Indian boys are out, following the sleigh-tracks in small parties, throwing the ka-whant in the deep rots, which it follows two ugh every curve, skipping over the lumps of ice and other inequalities, more like a living creature than a plain hickory stick, and suggesting at once the very appropriate name of the “snow-srake. Although the beaten road-way is usually preferred, the snow snake may be thrown in almost any situation where the snow is firm. The game, as generally played, merely a trial of skill between the play ers. A line being drawn to mark the starting-point, the players step back a few paces. Each grasps his snow-snake, runs forward in his turn to the mark, and, with a vigorous sweep of his arm, sends it sliding and dancing over the snow with the swiftness of an arrow. Mach snow-snake bears its owner’s mark (an arrow, cross, or star), so that he readily recognizes it, and he whose missile is farthest in advance is declared the winner. In this way a regular champion is chosen. The distance that these contrivances are tWown is almost incredible, skilful players sometimes making casts of nearly a quarter of mile. Should any of the readers of St. Nkhouis attempt his game, they must not be surprised or discouraged, if, at the first lew trial, their snow-snakes stick their heads through the crust and disappear in the powdery snow beneath, instead of sliding along the surface in the proper way. By digging along for a distance of from twenty to fifty feet, the sticks may usually be recovered, while the slight difficulties of the art can soon be overcome by a little practice and experience. Crows. Crows have always had justice done to their mental capacity. This may have frequently been rendered them at the expense of their moral character. Thoy have been called shreds of Satam cinders from Tartanls, smuts from hell, and what not; bnt no fabulist, from the time of £Ssop or the old Buddhist sto ries, has ever ventured to trifle so far with the feelings of his readers as to represent the crow in a really foolish attitude. The tale of the fox and the crow, where the bird is tricked into losing his bit of cheese, is not a true case in point; for it does no more than reveal the crow as a vain bird, and van ity is a frequent accompaniment of greatness. Easides, it was intended to contrast the relative craftiness of the most cunning of birds and the most cunning of beasts, and the obvious character of the story was allowed to prejudice the claims of the crow; for those who live upon the earth cannot be prevented from displaying their pique at creatures who have the power of soaring far above it at will. Never theless, a feeling of compunction and tardy justice leads to the immediate snubbing of the fox in the“fable of the sour grapes. The supremacy of the crow is entirely due to his mental characteristics. Barring his blackness, which, it is conceded, might just as well signify reverend solemnity as dia bolical mischief, there is nothing in his personal appearance to single him out for especial prominence; and hence we recognize the fact of his brain-power when we hear the Burmese story that in the beginning of the world the crows and the owls (who also are burdened with an evil reputation as devilish characters) quarrelled as to who was to be king. The other birds saw their opportunity, and, with a doable pre science, resolved to escape from the rule of “damned intellect, ”,and with the view of doing so established the Clo ture. They stopped the argument, rejected the claims of both owl and crow, and elected the swan lord of the bird-world. The story has a true Oriental tinge about it. Western birds would never have chosen the swan for king. In fact, without any authority at all but their own restless activity and bullying capacity, they have the assurance to name tne eagle king of birds, just as confidently |as if they had ancient precedent to it. The eagle does not lulfil the Eastern notion of royalty at alL He is a great deal too fond of exerting himself, and withdraw ing into solitary confinement, from all the world as if he were a hermit, which his murderous habits demonstate to be absurd. The swun, on the other hand, is a bird of exceeding presence. He does not choose to exert himself in a plebeian fashion. He can maltreat am bully his subjects with the best of the falcon kind. When he chooses, he can fly as well as any of them, but he pre fere to lead an easy life, and his claim to physical prowes is snfficiently proved by the fact that he can on occasion break a man’s leg. The choioe of the birds,' therefore, needs no defense, ex cept with those who have perverted ideas about the characteristics of roy alty. - The election, however, has per manently embittered the relations o: ! owls and crows, and the crow has in the ceoree of time satisfactorily estab lished his superiority. He had made the daytime his own, and feeds then an his leisure, vindic&tively attacking and buffeting all owls he comes across; while the latter bird makes his meals at night only, at first from a desire not to meet the crow, the sight ot whom he conic not endure, and latterly because con stant habit has so far altered lus con stitution that he cannot find his way about in the light of the son. It may have been this early warring with the owl that has led to the fact that in hieroglyphics the crow is always made use of as the symbol of contention, dis cord, and strife, though it is well known that rooks—who to everybody but scientific people are the same thing as crows—hold regular Parliaments and Vehmgericbts and county assizes, in most othodox fashion, and so have claim to superior civilization; yet it cer tainly is against them that the victims o: the crow-moot are not hung on the gal lows. Coin sad Comae*- HALF-WAY. There is in circulation a report to the effect that the new flve-oent pieces, are being counterfeited, and when C lonel A. Louden Snowden, superintendent of the Philadelphia mint, was asked wether any ooustereits had been circulated he replied that he did not think it possible, * ‘The only kind that could have been issued so soon would be a very poor im pression taken from a plaster of Paris cast. It would not deceive anybody. To counterfeit it by the use of dies would take considerable time. It is a difficult operation, as the noise of a ma chine to strike off the coin would be tray the counterfeiter. The old five and three-oent pieces have been coun terfeited, bnt not successfully.” In reference to what had been said about the coin being a copy of designs on a Spanish 20-real piece and a small bronze Portognes coin of 1868, Colonel Snowden did not think that the resem- blanse between the foreign coins and ours justified snch an insinuation. The two foreign coins were brought in. “Look at them,” said the Colonel. ‘The Portuguese piece has a Roman nu meral, but, as Roman numerals are not copyrighted, it seems to me no more a plagiarism to put a Roman numeral on a coin than it wor ld be to put an Arabic cipher there. Aj far back as 1865 Ro man numerals were used on ail our mi nor coma. The wreath on the Portu guese piece is of oak and lanrei leaves; that on ours is of wheat, cotton and com, uot very similar sorely. The head of Isabella on the Spanish coin bears a very slight resemblance to the chaste outlines of the Liberty head on the five-cent coin. The two foreign coins are clumsy and heavy, contrasting strongly with the tmn neatness of the little American. There is not the slight est foundation for the report that the latter was about to be withdrawn from circulation. Thirty-five thousand dol- lais worth of them have been struck off and thirty thousand dollars worth have been issued. A great quantity were sent to other cities and the people seem to be pleased with them. No coin was ever struck oil with as much ease. Though the Liberty head appears to stand out so strongiy from its surtace the ‘relief’ is infinitesimal.” The New York assay office holds near ly 5U0,0U0 ounces of silver bullion, re ceived from depositors in payment of charges for treatment of bolUon at that office. About 100,000 ounces have been transferred to the Philadelphia mint, and the superintendent there has been authorized to use it in the coinage of subsidiary silver, chiefly 10-cent pieces. The rest of the bullion ar the New York assay offioewill tie chiefly coined into dimes, as there is a scarcity of these coins now in the treasury and the de mand for them is increasing. The house oommittee on coinage, weights and measures decided on the 5th met, by a vote of six to two, that it was inexpedient at present to suspend the coinage of silver. As the vaults are now full of standard dollars, they will recommend that additional vault room be provided at such places la the Mississippi valley as the secretary of the treasury shall select They also advise that all coin in the treasury ex Slow la the painful oaotnt up to fame, And few the feet that clamher to tha height; Ambtaous throngs press at the mountain’s base, Filled with the love of glory; and the path That shines above them In the morning light Seems beautiful, nor difficult to scale. But farther on, a Utile higher up, The easy slope grows broken, and so steep That careless feet slip back and lose their hold, And dlssy brains reel downward and ore loot: And those who press on to the pausing plaoe, A little higher, stand with weary limbs And aching hearts, Just near enough to hear The sneers and hisses of the crowd below— The angry crowd that, cannot climb at oil. Or, having climbed, has fallen back again. Half way they stand upon the mountain side Where bold winds blow and loose rocks crumble down, And strange birds beat them with their wide, wild wings. No longer of the harrying throng beneath, Not yet ot that Immortal few above. How lonely and how all alone are they! Be not afraid, o tollers up the height! The gods are very near, though out of sight! They reach ont helpful hands and say “come higher,” All earnest souls must climb If they aspire. PKSfKOYINO A WILL. Electing A Great MeA cine. Recently the Indians on Rancho Chico, California, had lively sport in their “sweat-house.” A large crowd ol: people from town witnessed the danc ing. The Diggers kept up their homt yells until late in the night. This Bolargement of the Heart. I was in Brooklyn the other day at a little supper party given at Hubel’e, and conversation at the table turned upan the number of well-known citieens wuo have recently died in that' city. When the name of one of the deceased was mentioned a friend to my left enter ed into the conversation. “Have you heard the story that is going about as to the real oanse of his death?” he asked, giving the name of the departed citizen, “No,” came from several months. ‘‘'They say that the day ho died when he was on the street after his luncheon, he met a poor woman who was begging. She asked for a cent Mr. fumbled in his pockets and brought ont one, whioh he gave the beggar. He died soon after.” “Whet has that got to do with the oanse of his death?” I quaried.” “Welt, those who know the old gen tleman best say he died oi enlargement of the heart He was never known to give away a cent before.” “sweat-house” is built in the shape of a hill, or mound, an entrance being had from a hole in the top. It is built of heavy lumber and covered with dirt The air inside is almost stifling, bnt the Indians stay in the boose for several hours. Tho occasion of the demon stration recently was the election of medicine man, and the Indians were rigged out in their best dry goods. This election business with the Indians is conducted “on the square,” the beet man, physically, taking the office. There is no chance tor casting illegal ballots, and they don’t trifle with great register. The two applicants take their place* in the “sweat-house,” and at a given signal they commence dancing. It is not a graceful, gliding waltz, bnt it is something alter the style of the “Highland Fling,” the Indians jumping and sicking until a person wonld think they would jerk their limbs off The rnon who can stand this work the longest is the best man, and is elected. Recently the fun oommenr'ed in the forenoon, and was not finished until midnight. The jampere gave ont several times and had to be rubbed and bathed by their friends, and finally one of the bucks quit, saying he had all he could stand. oepting an amount not exceeding twenty- five per cent, of the outstanding green back circulation as a redemption fund, and excepting sums held for the re demption oi com, be used to pay inter est- bearing obligations of the Govern ment. The majority of the committee are bi-metai-lists and greenbaokere. On the 7 th Director of the Mint Burchard was before the oommittee. He thought it inexpedient to coin more silver until there shall be an international agree ment fixing the ratio between gold and silver. His theory was that without an international agreement as to the rela tive valuta of the two coins a continu- of coinage and circulation by the'Unitod States would tend to make thin conn try a dumping-ground for the silver of all nations, whereas gold would find its way out of the country as fast as the imports came in. Counterfeiting has been on the wane for the last four or five years, the efforts of the national government having al most suppressed it. Every now and then, however, an insolated coin is re ported, bnt the dies are at on -e taken possession of and the counterfeiters nustied off to the penitentiary almost before the news of hi» crime hoa become current. A few days ago a detective captured a whole gang of counterfeiters operating in safety, as they thought, in the wilds of West Virginia. Their whole outfit was captured with them, and several of them nave already been seut to the penitentiary. The fact, however, of the presence of a Humber of very dangerous silver coins indicates that some skilfni men are at work at some point, and very successfully. Their operations in Venango county and in Philadelphia have been on a large scale. The coins range from a dime to a dollar. The trade dollar of 1877 and the Bland dollar of more recent issue have been seen recently, while minor coins of base metal are plentiful. The coins are re markably well made and bear so close a resemblance to the genuine that it would take an expert to detect the difference, judging from weight, color aud general appearance. The easiest and almost the only way they may be known is by their lack of the clear, silvery ring that is so familiar in the genuine when let drop on some solid surface. By cutting with a sharp instrument the fraud may be detected, for after penetrating the outside coating, which is very ti.in the inside is oomposed of a different metal and is more easily whittled. Steel Pens in Germany. The Blaek Pnuce. Manrtnce In Norway. As soon as a young man and young woman are engaged in Norway,no matter in what rank of life, betrothal rings are exchanged. These rings are worn ever afterward by the men, as well ss by tha women. The consequence is that one can always tell a married woman in England when she shows her hand. Gold rings are used by the rich, bnt silver, either solid or m filagree, by the poor. There is no married man in .Nor way, no matter how humble he may be, who does not bear tins outward mark of his submission to the matrimonial bond. But this is not all. As soon aa a man is engaged he has calling-cards primed, with the name of his fiancee immediate- Mow his own. The first English Duke was Edward the Black Prince. He was created Duke of Cornwall by his father, Edward HL, in in 1337. The title of Marquis was first Destowed by Richard U., on his favorite, Robert de Vere, Earl of Oxford, created Marquis of Dublin in 1886. The Saxon and Danish titles of Ealderman, Earle, and Thane were changed into Earl and Baron by William 1. The title of Viscount was long in use m France before it was bestowed on any person in England. The first person who held d was John Beau- moot, created Viscount Beaumont and Count of Boulogne, in France, 1440. The order of Baronets was established by James L, in 1611, an. exists only m the British dominions. It is moat true that a natural and secret hated and avenon toward society in any man, hath eomewhat of the sav- age k Uast. There is only one steel-pen manufac- torp in Germany, that being in iwim There are many firms who describe themselves as steel-pen makers, bnt they do not actually manufacture, simply getting pens made to order. The Ger mans seem inclined to be jealous of the ire-eminence England has obtained in this line of business, especially as their requirements are continually increasing. !fext to steel pens, gold pens haye obtained a considerable importance as a merchantable commodity. This is owing to their non-liability to rust, and as they may be aaed for years. In consequence of their softness and elasticity they do not tire the hand as much as steel pens. The German markets are supplied from America, and consequently the imported pens are very dear. To a clever gold- smith an extensive and profitable field <ff enterprise is open in Germany in the >rodnotion of these instruments. The difficulty in the manufacture lies in finishing the points with iridium, whioh metal has proved itself beyond oompe- On the death of (Job Baking, no one was more surprised at his not having left a will than Mr. Alfred Laking, his nephew and heir-at-law. That gentle man had the best reasons for knowing, that his uncle was not well disposed towards him—in fact, the Colonel had refused to have anything to do with him for some years past. The truth was that Alfred Laking Lad onoe been guilty of an act of meanness, whioh his ancle never forgave, and therefore the fortu nate heir had not expected to benefit by his nude’s death. Bat even outsiders, who knew nothing of the oanse of the estrangement between the Colonel and bn nephew, were amazed at the old gentleman dying intestate. He had so frequently expressed his determination of preventing his nephew from succeed ing to his property and bad made so many wills at different times with that object, that his intestacy caused univer sal astonishment. It jvas generally sup posed that his somewhat sudden death had frustrated his testamentary inten tions, or else that, at the last moment, he had realized the force of the old adage that blood is thicker than water, and had been content to permit his nephew to inherit in the ordinary coarse of law. But while Mr. Alfred Laking received the congratulations of its fnends with equanimity, and apparently acquiesced in the general opinion that be was a very lucky individual, he did not by any means feel secure of his inheritance. For the first few months after his uncle’s death he was perpetually haunted by the dread that his elaborate precau tions would be thrown a way; but when a year had passed he began to breathe more freely. The chances were, he thought, that, if a will existed, it would have turned up by this time, or else it would probably rot away iu its hiding- place. Thus by degrees the phantom conjured «p by his pusillanimous imagi nation became less appaling; until one day his anxiety was revived by a very ominous incident. A shabbily-dressed, middle-aged man called upon him at d said he had an important communication to make. He gave the name of Cnunber, and Alfred Laking then recollected that he was a clerk in the office of the solioitor whom he had employed to wind up his ancle's estate. This circumstance seemed reas suring, for Alfred Laking naturally snp- poeed the man had been sent with some message from his master relating to business matters. “I presume Mr. Baker asked you to call?” he said nervously. "No, sir. The fact is I left Mr. Baker’s office some months ago. I am at present in another situation,” replied the man. “What is your business then?” in quired Mr. Laking, with iuoreased un - easiness. “I suppose we are quite alone, sir, and can not be overheard?” said the man, mysteriously. “You can speak ont, thongh I can not imagine what you can have to say that is so important,” returned Mr. Laking, glancing to sec that the door was closed, “When I left Mr. Baker’s office I took a situation with another solioitor,” said Crnmber, lowering 'his voice. “The gentleman I am now with is Mr Mayne, of Lincoln’s inn-fields. I don’t know whether you ever heard of him, sir, Alfred Laking stared, and turnet deadly pale. He happened to know his uncle had consulted this gentleman pro fessionally at a comparatively recent date, and he therefore instinctively guessed the nature of the revelation in store for him. “No! I never heard of Mr. Mayne, and I don’t believe my uncle did,” he replied, almost fiercely. “Well, sir, yon see your nucle did not always consult you about his af fairs,” returned Mr, Crnmber, rather disrespect!oily. “At any rate, he knew Mr. Mayne, who prepared a will for mm shortly before he died.” “How do you know?” demanded Al fred Laking, too siartlel to conceal his agitation, “Because I’ve seen it. I’ve not only seen it, l ut I’ve read it. Your name is’nt mentioned in that will, Mr. Lak ing,” said the man, with a grin. “A very fine story," said Alfred Laking, with a foroed laugh, "Fray is it that Mr. Mayne has never to “dorm me of the alleged will?” ^ “Because, in the first plaoe, I doubt J awar ? ol toe Colonel’s death; but, if he is has probably forgotten that You must promise to return it t yes,” said Alfred Lakhq stretching ont his hand impatiently. Some moments elapsed before th agitated gentleman could compose hiu self sufficiently to take in the content of the will. He first returned to th final page, whioh bore the signature c the testator and the attesting witnesses So far ai he could judge the signature were genuine, and the document ha the Colonel left lus will, with him for his memory isn’t what it was,” said Mr. Crnmber. “I don’t believe a word of what you say, he cried suddenly rising from his seat and confronting the unwelcome visitor. Your story is a tissue of false- Hoods. “I was afraid you might think so, sir, •“* ^ orjffl "° l “ U n ere ’ returned ‘"oUy. “^eproduced a doc nment from his pocket “I can put it back where I took it from within h.ur. Of course, it is no earthly use to me. evidently been prepared several month ago, the edges of the paper being, dit colored aid the ink faded. It wa dated a few weeks before Col Laking’ death, and was, therefore, in all probs bility the last will he had made. Whei he came to read it carefully, Alfrei Laking’s lingering hope that the docu meat might be a forgery was quick! dispelled. From internal evidence i was undoubtedly genuine, the names c various persons aud places being men tioned which no stranger ooula hav fabricated. Tne Colonel appeared t have left his property to some distan relatives, subject to a few charitable be quests. The nephew's name was no mentioned, and an old military friem was appointed executor. Mr. Alfred Laking read the will ove two or three times, keeping his fae concealed from Mr. Grumber, whi manifested a good deal of impatience At length he aroused himself from hi unpleasant reflections, folded up th fatal Document, and fixed a half-frigli tened, half-defiant gaze upon his visiioi “What do yon propose to do wit this?’' he inquired, nervously. “Well, sir, that depends npon yon, replied Grumber. “If you advise me t put it baok and remind the governor t it, well and good.” Bat Alfred Laking did not hasten t advise this straightforward course, fl kept silent for a long time, fidgetini nervously with the document he heli in his hand, and at length Orumbe spoke. “Yon see, sir, nobody knows of th existence of the will bnt you and me gappofting we were to throw it upoi the fire yonder, who would be th wiser?'' “How dare yon suggest such a thing?' cried Alfred Laking, with a show o virtuous indignation. “It would be i criminal offense.” “I suppose you wouldn’t split on me sir, if I was to do it,” suggested Crum ber, speaking almost iu a whisper. ‘ ‘Tin faot is, sir, I’m thinking of emigrating I don’t mind the nsk. Give me a thou sand pounds and the trick is done.” It was a sudden determination, taker half in desperation aud half frem sheet fright. The will was destroyed, and early tile next morning Mr. Crumbet started for America from Liverpool «itl £1,000 in gold in his pocket. Alfred Laking went and saw him off having, in fact, declined to hand ovei the money until he was safely on board ship. Upon his return to Loudon, feel ing, in spite of his misgivings, mort relieved and light-hearted than he had done since his uncle’s death, his exuber ant spirits received a sudden check k consequence of the roceipt of a leuei from Mr. Mayne, which ran thus: Lincoln s- Inn -Fields. Sib: I formerly acted professionally for your late uncle Col. Laking, auu shall be glad if you will give me a call at your earliest convenience on a mattei of importance. Yours faithfully, Jno. D. Mayne. Accordingly he presented himselt at Mr. Mayne’a office the morning after receiving the letter, looking very pale and nervous, though making every eLort to appear at ease. “I wrote to you, Mr. Laking," said the old lawyer, when they had exchanged greetiuga, “because I have reason to believe that you have received a com- m am cation from a man named Gi am ber?” “No,” murmured Alfred Laking. His answer appeared to cause Mr. Mayne some surprise, for the old gentle man stared at him through his spectac les for a second or two, and then said, rather sharply: “Name of Grumber. The man was a clerk in my tiffioe until recently.” , ‘ Certainly not,” repeated Alfred Laking. He intended his reply to be bold and emphatic but the attempt was a miserable failure. There was a quiver in his voice, and his eyes instinctively sought the carpet.. “A-hem! ” coughed Mr. Mayne, in an unpleasantly significant manner. ‘ ‘The fact is,” he resumed, “your nnele made a will shortly before he died, which he left in my charge; bnt a few days later he called and revoked it. He gave as his teason that he did not wish his animosi ty against yon to continue after his death ” “Yon don’t say that!” exclaimed Al fred Laking, with a start of genuine surprise. “He revoked the will by tearing off the signatures on the last page,” con tinued the lawyer, still looking his visi tor in the face, “and the mutilated doc ument being of course, mere waatep&per, was tied to the draft and put away in an old press. This man Crnmber, whom I discharged a few weeks ago for dis honesty, seems to have purloined the mutilated document, and thinking that ne might meditate attempting to impose npon you, I conceived it to my duty to warn you. He might, for ins tan oe, ha ve restored the last page by means of forgery, and passed off the will upon you as valid and subsisting.” “Theinfernal scoundrel !”cried Alfred Laking, violently, forgetting his cau tion, when he thought of his thousand pounds. “Yes, I’m afraid he is that,” said the lawyer dryly. “So you see, Mr. Laking, it was kindness thrown away upon your part to take the trouble to send him off from Liverpool yesterday. I wish you ft good morning, sir.” The Old Bobber She*. . “k® 1 “• *66 it," said Alfred Laking in a hoarse voice, seating himself in hfc chair again. Mr. Grumber unfolded the document mid glanced artt, apparently reflecting lt would be wiae to part with It But after a pause he laid it on the risen tiie beat for the purpose on account 1 desk “ ^oss us laid it on the of its great hardness. 1 M.. 1 m treating you like a gentleman, Do you remember the old-fashioned rub ber shoe ! Ah, that was a shoe worth hav ing I It was none of your flimsy, trim, sbiuy abominations of tbe present degen erate day, it was a great, clumsy, 111-look ing moccasin, that had either form nor symmetry, but it would wear out a dozen of our modern shoes. What an art was it to put the thing on 1 Turning U half in side out, you put your toe into its intsnor, and then, with a tug and a Jerk you pulled the heel m place, ard you were inside a iboe that clung to you lighter than a wother 1 And what fan was it at school to Jimple In the toe, plaoe a spit-ball In the ttoliow, and then, with fingers inside, to send a ball with eatapultio poorer smack into the face of the atudioua scholar on the opposite side of the room I Alas 1 there to no fun in the moaero rubber shoo, and but very little wear 1 Joy and utility have given place to mere beauty of o'Jtlme and proaatc comfort.