University of South Carolina Libraries
I C V TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. C.. APRIL 14, 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 THE AUTUMN S' ENE. The Indian summer's veil of bluo Lies on tbe mountains far away; And from the oast, forever new, Dawn ushers in the dreamy day. The air Is still, the rivulet gleams in silver flashes tnrouglrthe vale— Tbe silent mist above the stream s Fair path shines like a glin’nlng sail. I seethe squirrel skip and dart * Among the rainbow-tinted leaves. The glossy chestnu r s lire his heart— But, aa for him, he never grieves. Where red and russet orchards stand, Bowing their burdens to the plain, The lover takes hts loved one’s hand And saunters through the orchard lane. The clouds are soft that fleck the sky, The dry leaves rustle past their feet; But their unclouded reverie, And bliss‘ul dreams and visions sweet. Outdo the splendor of the day, Surpass the glory of the dawn: The world itself must pass away fire such delights are dead and gone I I mark their measured step—and slow— The cottage gate, the parting kiss. And think no summers vainly go That end in such triumphant bliss 1 MAY'S MISSION. Pretty May Win stone sat in her own little room in her mother’s cottage, with pen, paper and ink spread before her, and though her eyes were intently gaz ing through the open window, she saw neither the brignt flowers nor the fleecy clouds sailing in the bine sky on the distant horrizon, nor heard the low buzz of the bee flitting from rose to rose, nor the loud song ot the robin to his mate. The sun glinted her hair with flecks of gold, the snmmer breeze caressed her, but for once the girl was deaf and blind to all save one great purpose, one absorbing thought. A week before she had met Vernon Rushton. Picnics were a favorite snmmer amnse- ment in the quiet little country town where was May Winstone’s home, and it was at ^ne of these fate had thrown her and Vernon Rushton together.^ He was a stranger, spending li few weeks at the small hotel in the village, which occasionally attracted summer guests. At first something in his light bine eyes bad repelled rather than attracted her ; but as they wandered together through one of the ieafty paths, and he had told her how as soon as he had seen her he had wished and asked to be presented to her, and confided to her now tew people iiktlic world possessed tor him this subtle chord of sympathy, i he began to believe she bad done him gross injustice, and was quite convinced she never betoro had met so charming a man. Of course this sweeping assertion did not include Dick Travers, for she and Dick were engaged to be married. Indeed, Dick talked of the autumn as the proper time for the wedding to take place, though as yet she had not given her consent to such speed. She knew now that it was impossible, for in this one short week she and Mr. Rushton had held many long, confiden tial talks. He had told her that he wrote, and was a poet—that every one in life should have a mission, and that he was quite sure she could make her name tamons by her pen—that he saw the inspiration of poetry in her eyes. If his words were true, she had won derful difficulty in getting the said in spiration any further than her eyes, for it was at this task she was occupied on this lovely July day. “May 1” called her mother’s voice. “Wtii you come down, dear, and help me shell the peas ? “It is washing-day, you know, and Mary has not time.’’ Shell the peas 1 Ob, what a fall from the ole ads. And Mav, usually so bright and ready, slowly put away her writing materials, and, with a di cided pout on ti e sweet, red lips, slowly descended the stairs. Her task finished, a sudden shadow full athwart the window, though which was thrust a handsome dosercropped head, and two laughing, brown eyes survey ed the interior, while a cheery voice broke the silence— “1 have come to take you for a drive, May. “It is really too levoly a day for in doors. “Gome, get yonr hat, ear, and let usbeoflt” y * “Not to-day, Dick I" she answered indifferently, “It was very kind of you to come, but I’ve something - I particularly wish to do this afternoon.” “Not drive, May 1 Why, what is to be done ? “I will wait for you a little while if it is important.” “Don’t wait. “I can’t go 1" “I’ve hardly semi anything of you for a week. May. ® “East night that Rushton fellow de liberately outstayed me. “He'd have had harder work, but that he made me mad and jealous. How can you tolerate him, May ? “There isn’t an inch of real manhood about him, yet you smiled on^him, end encouraged him to stay until I could stand it no longer, and left him a free field” “We saw your temper. Dick. “You need not recur to it. “Mr. Rushton said it was greatly to be regretted you were so rash and not- headed." “Mr. Roshton J “Confoundhim 1 “What right has he to express an opinion of me to you T “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have listened toitf’ For all reply, the girl exasparsbngly shrugged her shoulders, and roeo to put away the peas. ■ f When she timed back, the fac<> at the window gone. Fearful ot giving her another illus tration of his much-to-be-regretted disposition, he had sought refuge in flight; and shoi was once more free to the room which, henceforth Vernon Rushton had told her would appear in his eyes, though they never had beheld it, as the enshrined bower of a poetess. An hour passed, and only four lines was imprinted on the sheet but of these metre and rhythm were qmte perfect, and her heart beat high with exultation. Then again her mother’s veice re called her to this mundane sphere— this time, however, to announce a visi tor—Mr. Rushton was below. Vtry, very pretty May looked, as, with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, she ran down to meet him. His light bine orbs dilated at the pic ture. “I have come to ask you to take a stroll with me,” he said, in his weak, lew voice. “Snob days as this inspire one, and I am sore in every bosh and tree yon will find lurking some new and beauti ful thought.” Ah, if Dick had but asked her to go out to seek inspiration, she might have responded with as much alacrity as now 1 So it happened that, returning from his lonely drive, a little repentant for his hastiness, and ready to blame his own jealous and impetnoos temper for unjust suspicion,* he saw directly in front of him two figures, slowly stroll ing along. He was not long in recognizing them both, and a great, hot wave of indig nant anger surged up to his face. He was wonderfully tempted to leap out in front of them, and by a yigorous application of his whip, teach this miserable pretender a lesson he would not soon forget Sut he resisted the temptation and drove on, deigning them, as he passed neither word nor glance ; bat May, catching a look of his face, felt a sud den fear. She had never seen Diek, dear old Dick, wear that look before, and Mr. Rushton, for the rest of their walk, found her very silent, and it is to be feared that neither from tree, nor shrub, did May gather inspiration. And though Mrs. Winstone’s delicious there were far more inviting that the repast spread at the hotel, he was not bidden to enter in and feast. Yet May ii.ad condemned herself thereby to a long, lonely evening. If Diek bad come in, all might have been explained ; but Dick, white and miserable, was bending over his desk, writing a letter ; which though savoring nothing of poetry, cost him as infinite labor as all her inspirations. Many % sheet he began and never finished, before, at last, afewourtlines, which almost hid the pain their birth had given him, were left to stay and reach their destination.. Next morning May found them be • side her breakfast plate. These were all the words they con tained— “I have been blind, May; but I see now. I know now why you could not drive with me yesterday, ana why you let me go away the night before. You’ll forgive me that I didn’t recognize the truth you have tried to tell me in every thing but speech, and so the sooner have given you back your freedom. If you’ll keep the few things I have sent you, I should be very glad, for they are hateful enough in my sight, and the weather is somewhat too warm to build a lire for a funeral pyre. “Dick. ” This was all. But for the last phrase, bom of the great bitterness of a young heart, May might have relented, and sent back a few lines which would have bronght her lover to her feet; but these harden ed her. Within an hour she had gathered to gether every token of his love ; then slipping from her finger the pearl nng which had betoked their engagement, she put them with the rest, and % de spatched them to him without a word, “Mr, Rushton says every woman has a mission,” she told herself, lest she should fancy hey heart ached. “Nothing now needinterfere with my work. “I shall write a poem. “1 can make my owh- experience its foundation, and so send it into the world to teach other women man's perfidy.’ When Mr. Riisnton called that even ing, she said— “I have broken my engagement, Mr. Rushton I” It was too dark for May to see tho sudden flash of triumph in his light, steely eyes. It was strange, she thought, as the dayi wore on, but Yernon Koshlon's attraction for her had fled. Somehow he wearied her. She wished he would not oome quite so often. She did not oare to offend him, for he* was to give her the name of the edi tor to whom her precious poem, now rapidly approaching completion, was to be entrusted. At last she had put to it the Anal correction, tbe last stop, signing her initials with infinite precision and oare. She had tasted some of the first frnits of future triumphs, when she had read it to him in its completed form, and he had listened with upturned eyes and bateu breath. “Your mission soon will be fulfilled,” he kaid to her; “but, oh, what. might we not accompli ih together—Wo -such poetic minds I “I would not separate you from your mother, dear, if you would become my wife; but here, in this pretty cottage we could be happy together. “May I hope, my lo*e V Will # you oast yonr tot with mine ?” '• But May had fled shuddering from his extended arms, and a few hours la ter there followed him to his hotel the hastiiy-sorawled note, wh’< *i he read, cursing his fate, since the pretty nest 'oe bad so carefully striven for, he learn ed, all luxuriously feathered as it was, never might be his. Penniless and love-lorn, he most again return to daily toil for daily bread, too much time having been squandered in a vain pursuit for food and shelter, with tae necessary accompaniment of a wife. There was now nothing left for May but to find consolation in her mission. With .rembling hands, but hopeful heart, she despatched her poem to its destination. Days merged into weeks, and she heard nothing from it, until at last she sent a tiny note asking for some news of it The reply was brief. Her sacred work had long since been consigned to the waste-paper basket, condemned as rubbish, and nnreturned to her for want of return postage. The blow was terrible. She had not even kept a copy, and never could she gather up courage to make a second effort. With the heartless letter in her hand, she flew to the woods, where secure from interruption, she might fling her self fade downwards upon the sward and sob out some of her heart’s grief. Bo wrapped was she in her own mis ery, that she heard no step approach ing, until some one called her name. It was Dick, her lover, who stood be side her. Ah', her lover now no longer I “May 1” he said. “Whatis it, child? “Will you not tell me ? “Poor little girl 1 What is troubling you ?” The tendeOone was more than she could bear. “ How it happened she did not know, but in a moment she found herself sob bing, not tears of wretchedness, bat tears of joy ; for Dick’s arms were about her aud her head was on Dick’s heart. She tried then to make him under stand some of her humiliating confes sion ; bat he would not listen to it— only, a few days later he came to her, with a roguish smile on his face, and held up before her a little slip of paper. It was an advertisement, in doggerel verse, for some patent toot-powder. This is one of Mr. Roshton’s poems,’ he told her. “Evidently not a very lucrative occu pation, since he has left the hotel a month in arrears for his board.” But seeing tbe quick tears of mortifi cation start to May’s eyes, he bent and kissed them away. But in long after years the girl learn ed that only her false mission in life bad failed her, and her true mission— the mission of a loving wife and tender mother—had met its richest and its fullest completion. Store Olei ka in Mexico. How He Cooked Them. Think of paving $5 a dozen for plain linen collars which in New Orleans would be considered high at $1, or of giving $6 for a pair of shoes which a home dealer would blush to charge $2 50 for, says a writer. The Americans in the City of Mexico look back to their own land as the paradise for people with thin purses, and sigh tor the day when a commercial treaty between the United States and Mexico shall not only remove the duties on sugar and tooacco, but bring down the oomtorts of life to a reasonable rate. Speaking of dry goods brings ns back naturally to the stores, and these we cannot mention without being painfully reminded of a subject to which it is difficult to refer without losing that equanimity essential to a Christian Irame of mind, and this is—the clerks. When we reflect upon the amount of time and p atlence‘expended during oar shopping expeditions and all charged to the account of these aggravating specimens of humanity, to take on almost savage pleasure in saying that, according to our belief, no other city can compete with Mexico in regard to that indolent, indifferent, highly pro voking class, who are employed nomi nally to wait upon customers tqt who turn the tables by making customers wait upon them. The purchase of a dress in these stores implies the loss of nearly a whole dpy, and an amount of patience, which, if properly exerted, would lead to canonization. On entering a dry goods emporium you will find a large number of clerks, entirely out of proportion to the size of the establishment, most of whom are busily employed in doing nothing. After waiting for .some time one will approach you with the most nonchalant air, and ask yon what you want in a tone of voice, however, which implies that he makes the inquiry merely out of consideration for yon, and not be cause he has any interest in the answer. When your want is made known—and you must he assured in your own mind as to the width, quality and color of the goods required—no will depart, appar ently in qiest of your material; how sad is your mistake, however, if you expect a speedy return, for on the way he will stop to slay with somebody's baby, or to hold a long conversation with one ot his fellow-clerks, or to take half-an- honr’s puff at his beloved cigar, and sometimes during an unusually lengthy period of suspense we have been tempt ed to believe that he indulged in a siesta. At last, when body and spirit are both nearly exhausted, you will perhaps succeed in hading the stuff for your dress; but this, you soon discover, is only the beginning of your troubles; you ask for buttons, aud are told to seek them in a fancy store on the next block; for needles, pins, hook and eyes —they are to be found in a hardware estabhshmprt around the corner; f<Sr thread—it is kept at another shop several squares off; for black sewing Silk—that can be bought only where machines are sold; for ribbon—and are answered with a look of surprise at your ignorance that snob a thing is never to be met with in a dry goods store. By the time you have bunted np-these articles in their various appro priate places, and have been subjected to the same delays and annoyances on every side, you will be ready to agree with us iu saying that Mexican stores and clerks are in«titutoiu peculiarly obnoxious to Americans. Several years ago a genuine specimen of the genius Yankee emigrated from the central part of Maine where he had spent the whole of his hfe, to a well- known town on the Eastern Shore. He had never seen an oyster except in its canned condition, and was naturally anxious to know what kind of an ani mal or vegetable it was. One bright fall morning soon after he had arrived at his new home he was-leaning con templatively over tbe front gate when a cart full of the bivalves drew near. “Oysters! Oysters! Any good oysters this morning, sir?” T “How maoh are they? ’ askov. the New Englander stepping out to examine them. “Forty cents a bushels. . “Waal I guess I’ll take a peek, Bui look a here stranger, how do you cook them things!” “Different ways, sir. Some people fries ’em; some roasts em; but they mostly stews ’em—cooks ’em in water awhile, prts a lit tie milk in, and season ’em with pepper and salt. They’re first-class this way.” “All right, 1 guess we’ll try ’em stewed. ’’ The oysters were duly delivered and paid for. This was early in the morning. Late in the afternoon, about eight hours after the above, the spindle legs of the Yankee were seen rapidly measuring their longest strides down the street. Fire was in his eyes and madness in his mien. He soon reached the crowd as sembled on the street corner, and at once singled out the man from whom he had purchased the oysters. The vials of his wrath were immediately uncorked. Shaking his fist m the man’s face he roared forth: “You’re a gol darned humbug, you’re a obeat, a vile swindler, an—” “Wnat d’ye mean?” growled the oys ter-man. “The oysters yon sold me. You said they were good, xou told me bow to cook them. You told me to stew ’em, didn’t you?” "Yes.” “Waal, we put the blamed things on the stove this morning, and they ain’t soft yet; though they’ve been boiling hot for eight hours—” “You lank-sided, bald-faced idiot, why didn’t yon take the sheds off? The oyster’s inside. “The thunder it is! Then why didn’t you tell me?” But notliing more need be added. It is only necessary to say that the Yankee now always shucks Ins oysters before he cooks teem. A Stupeati 1U» Wo--n Of Nature. Ages ago an arm of the Gnlf of Mexi co extended northward probably to where Cairo now stands. This water varied in width from ten to sixteen miles. Stretolling for 1.000 mues north ward, and from the Alleghenies to the Rocky Mountains, was, and still is, the land that drained its surplus waters into this arm of the sea. Nature sought to fill up this deep triangular trough, the aplex of which touched the present waters of the Ohio. The work was an extensive one. The granite flanks of the Rocky Mountains, the shales of the Alleghanies, tbe tertiary formation of the plains, were all plowed by rivers, and the material was pulverized by the' action of strong waters, ground in the batteries of nature, until they were an impalpable dost, capable of being held in suspension by flowing water. In the workshop of nature, on the plains and in the mountains, this process ceaseless ly continued. The melting snow and heavy rains, causing the rivers to rise, carried tho pnlp to Cairo. There the salt water of the Gulf was met; and the flow of the river checked, unable longer to hold the pnlp in suspension, it was precipitated, forming a delta. Slowly this delta was pnshed southward. Mountains were cut to the level of the plains; the flanks of mighty ranges were deeply farrowed to scpply the demand the river made to fill the trough below Cairo, and render it fit for‘the habitation of men. Th« north was de vastated to answer the call. For ages the waters of the north and west poured into the trough. For ages the process of shoaling the salt waters slowly con tinued. After the land appeared above the surface of the river the annual over flow added to its height. Hade an E*ce»*I«m. "Human languages," says Jalien Viczon, “appear u> have grown like trees in a wood, winch in the first stages are as numerous as possible but are soon reduced to a few individuals,of which a very email number attain their full teim of lile. Nu merous as wer* at first the local manifesta tions of human beings, the primordial lan guages were as Innumerable. A Boston capitalist, who has just returned from a trip to the lumber re gions of Wisoonsin, struck a country hotel one night during a blizzard. The landlord was doing his best to heat up and make everything comfortable, bat after his heels had been frost-bitten within six feet of the bar-room store, the Bostonian hinted that he would go to bed. “Stranger in these parts, aren’t you?” whispered the host “Yes.” “From Besting, ain’t you?” . “Yes.” “Weil, I’ll make an exception in your oare and give you your choice between a room where the boys will likely ait up till 3 o’clock and play old sledge, or one next to where me and the old woman will begin jawing and fighting about 10 and keep it up till squaw daylight, You look like a man of culture, and I’ll make it as comfortable as I can for yonl” , The Bostonian oomproffifeed by tak ing a north room with seven panes of glass broken out of the window. Uarlyle's Home at uraigjnpattock. Fifty years have oome and gone since this lonely moorland farm-honse was tenanted by Thomas Carlyle and his newly-wedded wife, Jane Welsh. Very little changed is anything outward; quiet Craigenputtook was then quiet, it is stiU. You hear the wind moaning among the trees, the leaves falling to the ground, a distant murmur of water, the bleat cf some sheep on the uplands. These are the sounds by night and by day; all else is silent. Very simply were the. “curious impertinent” once baffled, but now the door stands open, and, though few indeed venture near, a visitors' book lies on the lobby table, where those who make a pilgrimage to the spot can register their names. Craigenputtock, meaning the wooded hill of the puttock, a kind of hawk, is a small estate on the borders of Dumfries shire and Galloway, some 1800 acres in extent, mostly moorland, and lying 700 feet above sea-level. Its precise situa tion is on the valley, running from the parish of Dnn score in Glencaim to the river Urr—flowing from the adjacent loch of the same name. Fully 17 miles from Dumfries, the nearest railway station (save Anldgirth, which* may be somewhat less) it will be seen to be sufficiently inaccessible. The nearest village, Corsock, is between three and four miles away. The house itself Is not beautiful, not even what may be called picturesque. Where it stands, nevertheless, it looks far from amies, ar.d seems not ont of keeping with its barren surroundings. Still guarded by fine old trees, and flanked by the orange aud purple moors and Galloway hills, there is about it a quiet dignity which does not jar with its associations. The front oi the house, facing the north, commands no view whatever, and look, into a grassy bank, rising immediately towards a now spare plan tation . To the back, where there might have been preserved a wide panorama of moorland and hills, all ontlook is forbidden by the farm buildings, girdled again by trees. Indeed, so surrounded is the house, and so sheltered is the little hollow, that no sign of a habita tion is visible from any distance, save from the moor above, where one may indeed see the roof and a window or more. On entering we find ourselves in a somewhat spacious lobby, hardly deserving the name of hall. To the right is the former drawing-room, and entering from it is the old study, a very tiny room which looks into the yard. On the left of the lobby is an apartment used by tbe Carlyles as the dining-room, and behind it is a bed-room. The kitchen, a large, cheerful place, now the pleasantest room in the house, is built out at the back. Ascending a narrow stair from tbe hall, we find ourselves on a small landing, whence four doors open into four several bed-rooms, which com plete the modest accommodations of Craigen Tbe Cashier Ahead. A new bank which had been estab lished in a town in Indiana had engaged the services of a watchman who came well recommended, bat who did not seem over-experienced. The President therefore sent for him to post him np a bit, and began: “James, this is your first job of this kind, isn’t it?” “Yes, sir.” “Your first duty must be to exercise vigilance.” “Yes. sir.” “Be careful how strangeis approach you." “I will, sir.” “No stranger mndt be permitted to enter the bank at night under any pre text whatever.” “No, air.” “And our cashier—he if a good man, honest, reliable and thoroughly trust worthy, but it will be your duty to keep mi eye on him.” “But fi&will be hard to watch two men and the bank at the same time, air.” “Two men—how?” “Why, sir, it was only yesterday that the cashier called me in for a talk, and he said you were the squares! man in Indiana: but that it would be just as well to keep both eyes on you, and let the directors know if you hung around after hours 1” Cow Tboologj. “Now, deacon, I’ve just one word to say. I can't bear onr preaching! 1 get no good There’s ac much in it I don’t want that 1 grow lean on it. I lose my time and pains.” “Brother Bunnell, oome here. There’s my cow ’Thankful'—she can teach you theology.” “A cow teach theology! What do you mean?” “Now see, I have just thrown her a forkful of hay. Just watch her. There now! She has found a stick—you know sticks will get into the hay—and see how she tosses it to one side and goes on to eat what is good. There again! She has found a burdock, and she throws it to one side and goes on eating. Be fore morning she will have cleared the manger of all aave a few sticks and weeds, and the will give milk. There’s milk in that hay and t-he knows how to get it out, albeit there may be now and then a stick or weed which she leaves,” PeU of Prisoner*. It is somewhat surprising to what an extent men confined in a prison will succeed in domesticating different kinds of animals. This practice has never been more snccsssfnlly developed than at the State Prison at Concord, where there are men who, in a number of in stances, derive great comfort from the companionship of different species of animals and who while away many a lonely honr by training them, while in their oells, to perform different tricks. At the present time one of the most noted convicts in the institution has a pet mouse which he has caught and trained to whirl a small wheel ararnged on the same principle aa a jtjoirr^eage is. Another has two wharf rats which he ban tolled into his cell, fed and so epmpletely domesticated that they will go through a tight-rope performance in his cell when they are bidden to do so. Others have trained rats and mice, which they carry to and from the work- sbaps, and become greatly attached to them. The trained pet canary of Jesse Pomeroy, the boy fiend, has just died. He was a ve.y fine singer, and Jesse grieves very mnoh on account of the bird’s death, for, in solitary confine ment, he has been much cheered by the singing, t He now expects his mother will bring or send him another soon. The steward in the hospital depart ment has several pet canaries, and one of them has been trained to a remark able degree. A colored convict, formely a well-known waiter in one of tbe lead ing Boston hotels, who occupies a strong cell, has succeeded in propa gating pigeons iu a peculiar manner The window of his cell opens into the prison yard, and on this window he placed bread crams until he trapped a pair of pigeons. He aiterwarus caught three more in the same way, clipped their wings, and they have become so thoroughly domesticated that they have built a nest underneath his bed, and at present have three young doves which they have reared. One of the old pig eons is coal black, and this one the darkey has named after his wife, and all tbe rest have names. He regularly feeds bis fioek from his owu allowance. The other convicts felt very mnoh disa- pointed because tbe large number of doves formerly kept at the prison were killed and the thatched dovecote re moved. At one time a number of do mesticated skunks were kept in the prison yard, and they were cared for by the convicts. There are now numerous cats in different parts of the piison and if a person wishes to get the ill, will of a convict he only needs to mo lest “his cat. These animals always dissappear from view when visitors come to the prison, for they always know a stranger. Exercise. Take plenty of exercise, and you can nse your brain as mnoh as yon please. Lawyers and clergymen, who use their brains much, are the longest-lived men in the country, showing plainly that regular brain work is good for tbe gen eral health as well as for tbe efficiency of the nervoos system in particular. The muscular system must be treated in a similar manner ii: you do not wish it to beoome subject to fatty degenera tion. An unused muscle sbriniu and becomes soft and flabby, presenting an appearance of marked contrast to the brawny arm of the blacksmith. In stances of the feebleness of tissues thus preserved frequently present themselves to tne notise of the surgeon. A muscle is called npon to perform a vigorous contraction, but it snaps in the effort. The heart itself is sometimes torn asun der in attempting to send an extra sap py of blood to some needy limb. No man can afford to lower his general vitality for the sake of mere idle grati- fioation. He never knows when he may require all tbe energy which can hie stored np in his tisanes. A railway ac cident, a runaway horse, a ran to oatoh a train, a fall on the ice, or even a fit of coughing, may bring a life of misery or an early dcatii to ozo bho would have passed unscathed through them all had he allowed his nerves ari muscles to wear away in vigorous activity, Bauh L.1CKS. Speaking of locks, says a New York letter, one u led to notice the improve ment in these methods of protection, one of which is the “time lock.” This is so constructed that an automatic action is obtained. The interior of the look contains a spring aud wheel like a watch movement, and it is wound np in the same manner and set so as to open at a regular time. There are sev eral patents of this kind of look, which is so popular that two thousand are in use. They cost $400 apiece, but are cheap even a'; that, when one considers the vast amount of money thus pro tected. Formerly cashiers have been seized, bound and compelled by burglars to unlock the safe under fear of death but these time looks cannot be opened untiil the fixed moment arrives. Each manufacturer has a number of expert workmen traveling for the purpose of examining and cleaning locks, which should be done annually. The fee tor this service is $10. One ot those ex aminers informs me that he has been thus employed three years and he re cently visited seme of the most impor tant banks of this city. He is a watch maker by trade, aud considers these locks merely large watches. He also informs me that there are a doz?n other men in the same itinerancy, each of whom averages 150 examinations a year. The range of travel to which they are subjected includes the entire area of the Union, with most of its ter ritories, and hence this forms a peculiar feature in the traveling community. Opinm and Mwrpiua. “Is opium used in Fhiladelphia?'’ was asked of a druggist recently. ‘•Yes,” was the reply, “and ft is not confined to the Chinamen, either. Dj >ou know what epium is? Well, it is a juice obtained from the unripe capsules of the poppy, extensively cultivated in Asiatic Turkey, Erypt and India. China has of late years (despite the heavy penalty for its use) cultivatedihs-plant to a great ex tent, but its quality is said to lie greatly infenor to tbe Indian and is chiefly used for the purpose of adulteration. This Juice is evaporated and finally makes its appearance here in the shape of flat cakes, about five inches square, covered with leaves. The manufacturer fully under stands his business, as stones, bullets, buckshot, pieces of scrap iron frequently ate snugly imbedded m the centre of the opium cake and when you gonaider^hat it is purchased by weight, that it is worth $5 and' often through monopolies $12, per pound,the scrap Iron assumes considerable importance. “It is from opium that laudanum and its principel alkaloid, morphia, fs prepar ed. Its uses are indicated by its name— to act as an opiate and the general relief from pain from any causes whatsoever. I: is the favorite poison for suicides, from the fact, perhaps, that it is the easiest ob • tainable. Where almost every respectable druggist would hesitate to sell prussic acid arsenic, strychnia, or morphia to an adult nine out of ten will dispense laudanum with a free and easy way, even to children as though it were as harmless as water. Many begin its use, likely, because m small do&s it produces excitement and ex hilaration and a general feeling of *f own the whole world.’ The desire to experience these results,finally leads to a consumption frightful to consider, although its chief at traction has vanished, I doubt that when liquor ceases to be strong enough the toper reset Is to laudanum, it is only when that dread sleeplessness seizes on him, when visionary reptiles fantastically Wind and dance about him, that he seeks to banish them and find ‘nature’s restorer’ in opium. Paregoric and the many soothing and cough svnips nave for their hi sea morphia and opium. When the baby is fretful* has the colic, in teething, keeps the family awake it Is dosed with paregoric or some other preparation. Thus the desire is instilled very young. 1 know of a boy and a> girl, aged respectively twelve and six years, wbo began in this way until Anally the boy received a tablespoon and the girl a teaspoonful ot laudanum three times daily —why? I don’t know, but I do know, whenever the bey visited the store instead of asking for licence, a picture card or other trifles used by energetic druggists to pander to the unsophisticated youthful mind, this boy invariably asked for a‘dose of laudanum' (ind his dosea were no small ones) as a bribe lor the retention of his mother’s custom. “On one occasion during my temporary absence fiom the prescription counter be seized the opportunity to swallow two ounces, or four tablespoonfuls at a single draught. He refused and laughed at all emetics. 1 anxiously awaited the result; but no alnncicg effects followed. Tne usual dose for an adult is about 40 drops; for a boy of twelve, 15—26 drops, con taining one grain of opium,and to ir grains • frequently proving fatal. A tablespoon coma ns about 400 drops, so thD boy ac tually drank 1,000 drops, or torty times the regular dose for an adulLand sufficient to kill twenty five boya unaccustomed to its use. His sister, 0 yean eld, received 000 drops daily, and her, brother 1.200 daily, probably as negative foed, for no boy can eat and sleep at the same time. Still its effects are not always so frightful as is generally imagined. 1 know of an old woman aged 70 years who takes about three ounces—six tabltspomfuls—daily, (3 400 drops). Sue has been indulging for the past 45 yean and still punuea her vocation, which is scrubbing from morn ing till night, with no apparent diminution of a .rength. “The sulphate of morphia is the more genteel way of using is, principally on ac count of being lew nauseous and mote easily administered, the hypodermic syr inge being the favorite way, aa on account of direct contact with the circulation it acts more quickly. Society girls, craving foa rest, use morphia, aud when once mor phia or opium oomes home to roost it generally remains and it takes a firm, strong will to banish it. In experimenting 1 began with one eighth oi a grain, tbe regular dose, and in six weeks took one grain (enough to kill one unaccustomed) with impunity. 1 am acquainted with a man who consumes fifteen grains of mor phia daily (or enough to kiU fifteen men, equally distributed and taken at a single dose.) One-eighth grain morphia equals three-quarter grain of opium; one grain equals six grains; six grains ot opium re- present ISO drops of laudanum, or 2,250 drops daily, or nearly sixty times the regular adult dose. This simply demou- fttratea to what rtnsrn^ its a»» <’***» •niti. vated. All question of exhilaration now ceases; the man under its use becomes a mere automaton; his brain is in a com pletely fuddled state, incapacitating him from any business—and, strange as it may seem, physicians and women are opium’s principal votaries. Statistics do not show many deaths from excess of opii.m. Un like liquor, it destroys no organic matter and no lesions are found after death. It operates principally upon the brain and nervous system, which accounts lor tbe feeling of excitement it produces in mo derate doses. There is probably not a druggist in tbe eity but that has his regu lar opium and morphia customers—average ing at least five each—and as there are about eight hundred druggists the number of consumers can safely be quoted at four tbouMno. The use, cu an overage one and a half ounces per day, at a cost of about twenty cents per one. and a halt ounce, representing an aggregate of $830 a day, or > $290,000 per year—«nd uus amount u mostly expended by those lu humble circumstances.” Xas additkn ofV)Rtle mace to a veal soup will give an agreeable flivor to it. Do not put in enough to ">^0* it a dis tinct flavor, btit put it ill with the herbs and pepper and salt. Thbbb is nothing which will give such lightness to ginger bread as the we of sour cream, one cup of sour cream, with a teaspoon!U1 of soda to sweeten it, will. With a oup of molasses, a tablespoonfui cf ginger, and Soar enough fur § stiff batter, make an excellent breakfast cake. This is best when warm, but is good when cold also. 1 >.£*• * s ' r i I m 4 n f'im- -— :