Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. "T— WINNSBORO. S. U. MAY 22. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 HEBE AND ELEEWHEBE. TheTft*j>VW »uh is sinking low; Only the trtSfcqR. 8 redden and glow; _ Only the weatherco8jKffiv , !i e . 8 PL r ? the refuge for Baptist widows am only tne weathercoCAWv Of the neighboring church Is H name of fire. All is in shadow below. O, beautiful, awful summer day, What hast thou given, what taken away* Life and death, love and bate, Homes made happy or desolate, Hearts made sad or gay! On the road of life one milestone morel In the book of life ene leaf turned o’erl Like a red seal in the setting sun On the good and the evil men have done— Naught can to-day restore. to him, aud he kissed me once before he died, and said I had been a good girl.” ismone COUSIN SHADBACH’S WILL. “Are you my Aunt Dorcas?” “Sakes alivel” said Mrs. Torrance, “who be you?” “I’m Emily,” said the girl. “Please let me in for I am tired and cold. I’ve walked all the way fro; j the station, and I’ve had nothing to eat since noon.” “Well. 1 never!” said Mrs. Torrance. “You’re the city schoolma’am, ain’t you, as went ont to live with Cousin Shadrach ? And he’s dead, and the money has all gone to the Baptist widow and orphan -fund? You didn’t make much by that move, did you? And you’ve come back to us now, though we wasn’t stylish enough for you before. Well, come in, come in.” Cousin Shadrach had been the family apple of discord ever since they could remember. He was rich, he was eccen tric, he was crabbed. He had shut the door in the face of all his relatives, until, toward the last, sick and feeble, he had signified his desire that Emily Alden should come and take care of him. And Emily had gone. There had been a spice of jealousy in the family as regarded Emily for a long time. Emily had been looked upon as “proud” and “stuck up,” because instead of entering a factory, or learning the dress-maker’s trade, she had elected to be a teacher. She had never visited Job Torrance’s family until now —now that Cousin Shadrach had willed his money to the Baptist widows and or phans—her own mother was dead and her step-father, a pompous old wholesale grocer, objected to step-children, so that there seemed to be no other haven of refuge left to her. Who could blame Mrs. Torrance for a momentary feeling of triumph when Emily Alden came thus to her door-stone In the twilight of that April day? But she helped her off with her things, mao -* a cup of tea for her. and finally escorted her to a little room under the roof-tree, where the floor was covered with a home-made rag carpet, and the bed was decorated with a rainbow “Job’s troubles” quilt, and you could look out the window into a greening meadows, where a whip-poor-will plainted its me lancholy refrain. “I hope you will sleep well,” said Mrs. Torrance. “We eat breakfast at 5 o’ clock.” “What is she like, mother?” said Job, jr., who was milking. “Oh, she looks well enough,” Mrs. Torrance carelessly responded. “Little and dark, with big, shady eyes, and a real Torrance mouth ^doesn’t talk a great deal, and dresses shabby, as one might expect.” “Poor thing,” said Job, pityingly. “Well,” said Mrs. Torrance, sharply, “ I can’t say but what I think she deser ves all she got. Them Aldens always were as proud as Lucifer.” “You’ll keep her, mother, of course?” “ I suppose so,” said Mrs. Torrance, “ I don’t suppose she’s got anywhere else to go.” Emily rose, dressed herself, and came down-stairs. “Aunt Dorcas,” she said, as she en countered that lady frying ham and eggs over the kitchen fire, ‘what is there in j this neighborhood for a woman to do?” “Eh?” said Mrs. Torrance in surprise. “To earn my living, Imean?”exclaim- Emily. “ Is the district school sup plied with a teacher?” Mrs. Torrance nodded as she placed the slice of frizzling ham on a blue edged late and arranged the eggs in golden pheres above. “ Is there a factory hereabouts?” pur- [sued Emily. “Used to be,” said Mrs Torrance, “but jthey failed, and it’s been shut up for ten lonths.” - “Do you know any one who wants a irl?” pursued the city cousin. Mrs. Torrance set the coffee-pot on the ible, blew the horn for Job, and then onded toher niece’s query by a count- question. “Why don’t you stay here?” “Because,” arid Emily with spirit, “I it to earn my own living.” “Well,'you can earn it here, can’t fou? I was calculating to hire a girl spring; and if you’ll work honestly (tor it, I’ll give you the $6 a month I was going to pay hired help.” Emily’s pale lace brightened. “ I should like that,” she said. And lien Job came in, tall, handsome and lushed, his curls yet wet from the spring ato which he had dipped them, and a prig of trailing arbutus pinned on to his it, and spoke a frank welcome to the ^oung girl -whom he had never seen be- are. y* ri** * *''*■* • * *5**; V WM*MAA KnUH*Al <**/** AO UCtMi-f' i said. ^ | n ‘Yes,” said Emily quietly. “Did you like him?” “No,” confessed the girl. “He was i and surly, and had no sympathy . anybody. But I tried to be kind phana!” said Mrs. Torrance. “That’s Cousin Shadrach all over.” “He had a right to do as he pleased with his money,” said Emily, a faint glow arising to her cheeks. Well, its all over and gone. There’s no use talking about it now.” At the end of a month Mrs. Torrance us forced to acknowledge that Emily had well earned her |6 a month and boad. The girl had about her wonderful mag netic power which philosophers dub “ex ecutive ability, ’’and New England housekeepers call “faculty,” she was a natural cook—she did things without seeming to take any trouble at all.” “ I don’t understand it,” said Mrs. Torrance. “A little, dark, slim thing that was always brought up to sit with her hands folded.” And one sultry day in July, wnen Job and Emily came in from strawberrying, with crimsoned fingers, laughing faces and baskets heaped high with the frag rant fruit, Mrs. Torrance started in the solitude of her dairy, where she was making “cottage cheese.” ‘ I declare,” she cried. “ I wonder I never thought of that before. Oh, dear oh, dear! I never can consent to it in the living world.” Job came to her that same evening. “Mother,” said he, “Emily has pro mised to be my wife.” Mrs. Torrance burst into tears. “You’re only 26 years old, Job,” she faltered. “Just two years older than when my father married your mother. Now, don’t you turn your face away; but tell me plainly, have you any fault to find with my choice?” “No—no,” confessed Mrs. Torrance. “Did you think I could possibly win a sweeter girl than Emily Alden?” “No, I don’t suppose you could,” an swered the mother-in-law elect; “but it’s natural, Job, to feel a little jealous when you see some one else taking the first place in your child’s heart.” But when Job brought Emily in to re ceive her kiss of greeting, Mrs. Torrance had sufficiently conquered herself to bid her new daughter welcome. “Though i s’posed, Emily,” said she, a little bitterly, “that you looked higher than a farmer once.” “ I never looked higher than one of nature’s nobleman,’’said Emily. “Job,” said she, “would you like to be rich?” “Well, yes,” said Job. ‘I’d like mon ey enough to keep my wife in luxury.” “Would you, Aunt Dorcas?” said Emily, turning to Mrs. Torrance. “Of course I should,” said the matron, vigorously plying her knitting needles; “but I. don’t ever expect it.” “But you are rich,” said Emily with a little tremor in her voice, “Job is rich —we are all rich together—with Cousin Shadrach Seely’s money” “But,” cried Mrs. Torrance. “ I thought he left it all to the Baptist wid ows and orphans.” “Not all,” said Emily. “Its a secret, but I may tell you now, Half was left to the refuge—the other 130,000 is mine, to be paid over to me on the day on which I marry a man who, ignorant of Cousin Shadrach’s bequest, has loved me loyally and well. It v as the old man’s whim, and I have respected it. Oh! Aunt Dor cas, I came to you because in my be wilderment I knew not where else to go, but I little dreamed that I was entering directly into the kingdom of a noble heart.” It was true. Shadracn Seeley, eccent ric in life, had been equally eccentric in his death, and when Mf. Mustybill, the lawyer, paid over the legacy, he said, chuckling: “ It is all right! It’s exactly as my poor client would have it! I congratu late you, Mrs Job Torrance!” And Mrs. Torrance the elder has a higher opinion of her daughter-in-law’s attractions,now they are in a back ground of gold. Salmon in the fncihc. Salmon fishing in the Columbia river begins about the 20th of April and the season lasts four months. Astoria is the great centre of the trade, as it is most conveniently situated to combine facilities for the catch and for trans portation. Fishermen who furnish their own boats are paid by the packers sixty cents for each salmon weighing not less than eight pounds. The salmon are taken as they ascend the river from the sea on the way to their spawning grounds, which are hundreds of miles inland. In fact they make their way far up the small tributaries of Snake river and the northern headwaters of the Columbia branches until small streams in the heart of the western foot hills of the Rocky mountains are some times fairly alive with them.. There are thirty-six canneries on the Columbia, employing a capital of $2,000,000 and employing about 7,000 men. The catch last year was 535,000 cases, worth $2,- 782,000. Each year the means of en snaring the fish grow more perfect, and the barrier of nets and scoop-wheels has become so close that it almost seems strange that any should escape or find their way through. There has been cansiderable talk of limiting the destruc tiveness of the fisheries, or at least of enforcing the law which prohibits fish ing on Sunday, so that one day in the weet the salmon mav be free to ma» nn- moksted, and so insure the preservation of enough to keep the waters stocked. At present there is no limit placed to the slaughter, but it is said the run shows no apparent diminution as com pared with earlier years. Should it fall off, artificial hatcheries are to be estab lished. Caatenarj of the r«»oe of 1783. One hundred years ago April 13,1783, General Washington, then at Newburg, JfiW*i%*dry» l where his troops were in cpmp, received the proclamation an nouncing the cessation of hostilities with Great Britain, which Congress had issued six days before. The preliminary treaty had indeed been signed in the preceding November, but such Was the tardy reluctance of the British diplo mats, and the uncertainty and slowness of trans-Atlantic communication, that the proclamation could not be ventured upon until mid-April following; and the treaty definitively acknowledging the independence of the United States was not concluded until the next Sep tember. The proclamation of Congress, however, declaring the end of the cruel war was sufficient for the Commander- in-Chief and for the army, and the next day after its receipt at camp, April 18th, 1783. “General Orders ” were issued by Washington as follows: “The Com- mander-in-Chief orders the cessation of hostilities between the United States of America and the King of Great Britain to be publicly proclaimed to-morrow, Lpril 19), at twelve o’clock, at the ^,ew Building, and that the proclama tion, which will l)e communicated here with, be read to-morrow evening at the head of every regiment and corps of the army; after which the chaplains with the several brigades will render thanks to Almighty God for all His mercies, particularly for His overruling the wrath of man to His own glory, and causing the rage of war to cease among the nations.” He did not stop at this brief announcement, but went on to re mind the army that the day designated for this return of thanks had more than an ordinary significance. On the 19th of April, 1775, the war began at Lexing ton. “On such a happy day—a day which is the harbinger of peace—a day which completes the eighth year of the war, it would be ingratitude not to re joice; it would be insensibility not to participate in the general felicity,” There is a flavor of antiquity in these General Orders of a hundred years agp. The style is not that of the present day. It shows what the writer felt and how deeply, and that he did not fear to ex press himself in what would seem to the public of 1883.the ambitious style of the rhetorician. “The Commander-in- Chief,” he continued, “far from en deavoring to stifle the feelings of joy in his own bosom, offers his most cordial congratulations on the occasion to all the officers of every denomination—to all the troops of the United States in general, and in particular to those gal lant and persevering men who had re solved to defend the rights of their in vaded country so long as the war should continue. .... Being immortal ized by the illustrious appellation of the ‘Patriot Army,’nothing now remains but for the actors of this mighty scene to preserve a perfect, unvarying con sistency through the very last act; to close the drama with applause; and to retire from the military theatre with the same approbation of angels and men which has crowned all their former vir tuous actions. ” This was the style of speech which marked many of the public papers of that period. Critically, it is not to be defended in these days; - but criticism should not be suffered to choke patriotism out of existence. We had a grand illustration, during the Centen nial of Independence, how the world can unite in honoring the “ times and the men ” to whom all the world owes so much. And in the same spirit, the 19th of April, 1775, and the 19th of April, 1783, are always to be remember ed; and General Prosperity, a hundred years after, issues general orders for mutual congratulations and devout thankfulness. Gag tor Starting Locomotive Fir—. In Germany the praotioe of starting locomotive fires with gas instead of wood is being adopted on some of the railways,and is found to be economical. The apparatus used consists of a hori zontal tube and several vertical tubes with burners. Each vertical tube has a nozzle, in which the gas mixes with air drawn in laterlly, before issuing at the copper burner. The lighting of the an thraoite coal cn the grate is done in ten to twenty minutes, according to the gas pressure. In a gap between the bars is inserted from below an iron plate, the length of the system of burners, and so that it projects somewhat above the grate surface. Then three or four shov elfuls of dry coal pieces about the size of one’s fist are placed about the plate, and the rest of the grate surface is cov er* d with a thin layer ot coal. Then the plate is drawn out, and the system of bmni-ra put into its place;three hundred u&rts of gas lights the coal sufficiently', the course of thirty to forty five min utes, according as the locomotive was previously warm or cold, the burning coal is pushed apart so that the fire may extend as quickly as possible over the whole grate. The gas is conveyed to the burner apparatus through a rubber tube from a small gas holder, and the pressure can be easily varied at will. A recent improvement in the apparatus consists in doing away with the nozzle of each burner, and producing the mix tore of gas and air by means ot a single nozz'e in the connecting pipe. Pampnem oi Walls. The dampness on the Walls of brick and stone houses is often due to the cause which deposits moisture on a glass or pitcher filled with ice water and brought into a warm room. The walls become cold aud remain so for a long time, and when the weather changes suddoi ly from cold to warm, the air is full of moisture and is deposited on the walls by the chill when the air strikes them. It is easily prevented, says a mechanical journal. No plaster should be put directly upon wood or stone. In its place furring strips should be nailed to the wall, and the laths should be put r*n thoao IV»IUmi «— *- damp in warm weather from the same cause, because of too much ventilation. The warm air pouring in becomes chilled and deposits its moisture till it runs in stewams to the surprise of the housekeeper, who wonders how it Is that the more her cellar is ‘aired the damper it becomes. Bats of UtOSS Explorers. De Sota and his men—the flower of the Peninsula chivalry—braved every thing, suffered everything, in their search for El Dorado. The hot springs of Arkansas they thought the fabled fountain of perpetual youth. They penetrated Missouri from the South ; twice erpOBcd the Ozark Hills, and spent tiie winter of 1541--42 among them. They found the region swarming with fierce Indians. They fought the Paw nees, who still do a thriving business at scalping surveyors and throwing trains oft the track along the Union Pacific Railway in Kebraaka ; and the Kawa, of whom a miserable remnant yet survive, to ndas ptnu—, and beg tobacco and whiskyJjfMi the fertile bot toms of the Kanes River. They smelted ore, and were disgusted to find it lead instead of silver, Vernon county, Missouri, still contains ruins of old fortifications and furnaces, believed to mark the winter camp of those gal lant. ill-started soldiers of fortune. Their fate served as a warning. For one hundred And forty years the great river was left undisturbed, unseen by civilized man. Then Marquett the missionary, with Jolie the explorer, starting from Canada, floated down its silent current to the mouth ot the Ar kansas, Like later travelers, they were surprised to find the stream so clear and bine above the month of the Mis souri, so muddy and turbid below. Be tore reaching the Gulf, they turned back from dread of the Spaniards. But after them, also from the north, came La Salie the fearless. He rode the muddy current until he had planted the liliee of France at the month of the Mississippi. Louis XIV. was at the senith of his glory! In the name of Were the Ancient Hebrews Left-Handed? Thereis a new problem for the Anglo* Israelites. Were the ancient Hebrews a left-handed people? Dr. Erlenmeyer has just given an interesting and learned lecture to prove that they were. Most of the Aryan peoples, as we know, write from the left to the right of a sheet of p»por. and their books are so rinted as to be read in this direction, ost of the Semitic people, on the contrary, write from the right to the left of the paper. Hitherto this very emphatic difference has been simply represented to be a mere oharaotenstio of habit, kept up by the reverence for tradition which is so deeply rooted in the Semitic m ind. It has never oc curred to any one, so far as we know, that the direction taken by the hand of a Semitic scribe in writing was due to a physiological cause, namely, to the fact that his left hand was his better hand, and was much more ready and “dex terous” than the hand which we Aryans call the dexter. Dr. Erlenmeyer insists that the writers of the Old Testament, and probably the early Talmudists after them, naturally wrote with their left Imnds, and would have found it difficult, if not impossible, to write with the other hand Hence it was only natural that maanscript shonld travel along a line which started from the right and ended on the left. Dr. Erlenmeyer says that this hypothesis is not a mere happy thought of his own, bat that he has found striking confirmation of the theory in the Talmnd. For instance he cites a passage which insists that certain special prayers and inseriptiona are always to be written with the right hand, and not with the left. The exe cution of this exceptional prescription glory. In the name of was a work of time, patience and diffl- the Great King, the bold explorer took, oulty. audit is implied that the process The Scarlet Fever. poeeesion of the entire country, baptis mg the river “SL Louis,” and its val ley “Louisiana.” - . \ Poor La Salle! He hoped for wealth, fame and honor for his discoveries. They brought hardship, heart-siekneea and death. For yean he faced appalling disaster with unshaken soul. At last, after long, fruitless endeavors to find again the banks of the Mississippi, a bewildered wanderer in north Texas, he tell, assassinated by one of his own soldiers. How great explorers, like great orators, have suffered the most cruel mockery of destiny ! They form the saddest pictures in ail history. Co lumbus, of the broad brow and majestic frame, in an old age of poverty and chains; Ponoe De Leon, leeble and gray-haired, shot to death by savages, even while seeking the immortal foun tain ; La Salie, the dauntless and tire less, with his tliin arms folded, and his tattered cloak wrapped about him, cradled in an unknown grave, among the barren hills of Trinity River; Ra leigh, the early darling of fortune, his narrow, bald head under the shining axe, his calm lips murmuring. “This is sharp medicine, but it cures the worst disease De Sota, lowered at midnight to the bottom of the Misaiasippi, with no audible prayer for his heart-broken comrades, lest the lurking red men shonld leant that the bold leader was at re it after all his wandering, in peace after all his troubles I Houses Where Washington Stopped. Years ago the attention of travelers on the stage going from Hartford to Middletown was usually attracted to a quaint and picturesque eld mansion just outside the Village of Rocky Hill. It rtood near the road, facing the west, and was built of brick, two stories and attic, was a gambrel roof, dormer win dows and a circular light in each gable above the two attic windows. The solid foundation of dressed stone, the carved door and generous proportions of the structure, with its three chimneys and kitchen wing, bespoke it the abode of some gentleman of “ye olden time.” But the most charming feature of this house was the profusion of woodbine (Virginia creeper) that draped the ex terior. How it clambered over gable and window, entirely covering one end of the house. Such a revel of greenery was seldom seen on a sober dwelling. It embraced one of the chimneys, embroid ering it with a mat of shining green, more lovely than any decorative art could have produced, then after reach- the top threw its bright tendrils out on the air, where they swung in the breezes. In the early autumn the old vine was gorgeous in; its varying shades. It is as flourishing now. of writing with the right hand was a departure from the ordinary, easy aud natural way of writing. Tne learned doctor also cites passages from the He brew ot the Old Testament in which a particular stress seems to him to be laid npon-tho “left-handedness” of the old Hebrews. Jacob and Job, he says, preferred to give the pre-eminent bene diction with the left hand instead of the right. Jacob, “knowingly and de liberately,” laid his left hand upon the head of his eldest grandchild. We commend the question to the Anglo- Israelites. If they can prove that the majority of Englishmen are naturally lefthanded they will be in possession of one more “identity,In that ease we may expect them to write their letters and print their magazines in future after the proper Semitic manner. Big Hearted. still there, but not although still a picturesque and plead ing feature. The old brick house, one of the few remaining mansions of col onial times, was built by “John Rob- ... bins, gentleman, A. D. 1767,” as the Laskad: date over the front doorfray will; show. Some years since it was stated that a house somewhere in Massachusetts was the first ever built of native bricks pre pared for that purpose. The Robbins House, however, was built of bricks burned in Connecticut, and it is claim ed at an earlier date than the one above mentioned. Of course this famed old house standing on the main road to HartfonL was one of the ^avored where “Gen. Washington stopped” an that memorable journey through Connecti cut. It was at that time, it is believed, opened and kept for a few tears as an inn. The old sign Is still preserved in the family. Its device is an equestrian representation of the Duke of Cumber land. The wooden surface is pierced with bullet holes, and in altogether a very interesting relic of colonial and revolutionary days. The Robbins fam ily now occupying the place are direct descendants of Esquire John, who builded so well one hundred and six teen years ago. The first estate, how ever, has diminished in the course of time. Only a few acres of the large, original tract of land now remain in the possession of the family, the remainder having been sold during the nnsninr ywtfa. me mansion la Still solid and well preserved and bids fair to remain Intact for another century*. In the yard still stands one of the fast disappearing appliences for drawing water, the old- faihioned well sweep. ■ You can hold an opinion more firmly than you can clutch a hornet. Bnt the funniest snap I ever saw was in St Louis. What? Don’t know what a brace is? Well, the old-fashioned brace faro box is so arranged that when it is unlocked yon can slip two cards out at once. The cards have to be sand papered to make them stick together, though. Well, the top card is shoved a little to one side, so that the dealer can see the next one under it. Now, if the player has a coppered bet on the king, and yon see that the king is going to lose, why it’s the easiest thing in the world to slip both cards cat, and the king that would have lost money for the house don't show up. The case keeper, of course, has to be posted, and marks the cases accordingly. The newest invention, though, is what they call the “pat-back” box. This is tue safest and most ingenious device that I know of, There is an apparatus so arranged that when the dealer pulls out two cards he cun hold one ot them in his left hand—that is, if he is sliok —and put it back in the bottom of the box. In this way the oases are always kept straight, aud no one is likely to get on to the racket. A big-hearted, simple minded fellow named Bill Taylor had struck it rich a day or two before, and he had over a thousand dollars in his pocket. He had one $10 gold piece that was coun terfeit, it having been passed on him that day. He wanted to play bank at a certain place, but I objected, telling him it was a brace game, aud that he stood no show for his mouey. He per sisted, however, and I waited in a neighboring saloon. In about half au hour he oame in, tickled to death. He was laughing so hard that his fat sides fairly shook. When he had sufficiently recovered he burst out with: “Well, Tom, l got the best of them that time.” “How’s that?” I asked, “Passed that counterfeit tenner on ’em,” and then he went off into another fit of langhter that shook the bniidiug. When quiet was restored once more I It is as unnecessary for a child to die of the soarlet fever as it is that it should be ulind with a cataract. Let us see. At any time before the body has fin ished its ineffectual struggle we are able to help it, not by wonderful medicines, but by the knowledge of anatomy, and the application of common sense. We consult the sympathetic nerve, and do what it commands us to do. We must give this child salt when it wants it; we mast give it add when it has fever and anxiously craves it—not vinegar, but lemon joioe, because the first co agulates albumen, and the latter docs not, on account of the surplus of oxy ^en which it contains. To imitate the soothing mucus in the intestines, which is now wanting, and to give some re spiratory food at the same time, we add some gum arabio. To restore and re lieve the injored nerve, we apply moist warmth. In praotioe we can fulfil all tills with the following simple manipu • lations : Undress the ohild and bring it to bed at the very first sign of sickness. Give it if it has already fever, nothing but sourish warm lemonade with some gum arabio in it. Then cover its abdo men with some dry flannel. Take a well-folded bed sheet and put it in boiling hot water; wrinar it out dry by means of dry towels, and put this over the flannel on the child’s abdomen. Then oover the whole, and Wait. The hot olothes will, perhaps, require re peated heat. According to the severity of the case, and its stage of progress, perspiration will commence in the child in from ten minutes to two hoars. The ohild Is then saved; it soon falls to sleep. Soon after the child awakes, it shows slight symptoms of returning in clination for food; help its bowels, if necessary, with injections of oil, soap and water, and its recovery will be as steady as the growth of a green-house plant, if well treated. Of course, if the ohild was already dying, nothing could save it, or if it has already effusions in the lining of the heart or brain, it is mnoh better that it shonld die. But if the above is applied in due time, under the eyes and direction of a competent physician, I will guarantee that not one in a hundred children will ever die of soarlet fever, I know this will startle some of my readers, especially those who have loet children already, bnt I shall go still farther. I maintain that a child will never get scarlet fever if properly treated. It aohili has correctly mixed blood, it will not catch the dis order if pat in bed with a sick ohild. This is still more startling, but nothing is easier of proof. Auieriosn Fork. FOOD FOR THOUGHT. “Well, how did yon oome ont on the play?" “Oil, I lost the roll, bnt I got even with ’em j* yes, I got even with ’em; passed the tenner oa ’em, you know.” And then he exploded again. Such ohumps are numerous. Foultrjr and Fronts- The census of 1870 gave France, we are told, 42 800.000 fowls, 8.500,000 ducks, 1,700,000 turkeys, and 8,800,000 geese. At present there are 45,000,000 fowls, valued at $22,500,000. Of the 45,000,000 it is estimated that 11,000,000 are consumed annually, producing about $8,500,000, leaving 84,000,COO hens to be fruitful and multiply. These yield 100,000,000 chicken a every year, of which 10,000 are reserved for the purposes of reproduction and 10,000,000 are lost through accident or disease;tbe remaining 80,000,000 are marketed, yielding $24,000,000. The capons give a farther return of $1,200,000,while the annual yield of eggs is placed st 90 for each of the 84 000,000 hens, so that al together the French farmer derives from the poultry vend nearly $70,000,000 a vear. M Af«n*nlt /v™.♦■»».'»- *«--* product could be more than quadrupled with bat little effort, and he and many of the public spirited men associated with him -ra sparing neither labor nor expen. to instruct the peasants and small farmers as to the advantages of {ibhfi^y toiakAg upon nn extended scale and in accordance with scientific meth ods. If the Western papers are not inaoon- rate in their atatistica, although the prohibition of American pork in Ger many, on the ground of triohinons in fection appears to be a very destructive measure as regards the export of that commodity, it is|not in reality likely to prove injurious to any great extent to the Interests of bog raisers and pork packers in this country. As published, the decree compr ses sides, bacon,hams, sausages, and the flesh of the animal in all forms of preparation, bnt is under stood not to include lard, although a question,may hereafter arise on that point,and Western manufacturers should not congratulate themselves too soon. If the exception, as respeott lard,should prove correct, however, the new legis lation will not seriously embairass the ordinary coarse of trade, for with the exception of that article, oar direct ex port to Germany of the products of the slaughter aod packing house is not very important. Wntle, for illnstration, our total shipment to foreign markets of bacon and hams last ye&r amounted to nearly $47,000,009, and onr shipment of salt pork to about $7,000,060, Ger many took the value of less lhan half a million of dollars in the three articles combined. In the matter of live swine, the German demand amounted to less than the paltry sum of five handled dollars—that is, practically nothing;bnt in compensation for the small trade in live stock, more than one-fifth of all the lard exported from the United States was consumed by the people from over the Rhine, whose call for the article was represented by $55,500,000. If, then, this commodity has been excepted from the preeoription, cur people can afford to langh at the decree in its present form, as it will only lead to a larger de mand for Americas pork in England, to be repacked, relabeled,and sent to Ger many as the genuine English product— a trick of trade that already engages considerable capital and industry in- English centres of export, and will re ceive a new impulse from the ill oonsid ere l measures of Bismarek and the Bandesrath. Farts Shopkeepers. The French correspondent furnlnhes the somewhat overdrawn sketch relative to the complaints of dull trade on the part of Paris shopkeepers: “Formerly they comp ai ed every fifteen ye-rs. Nowadays the smallest shopkeeper wants to live like a lord, to have horses, car riages. a country house, a good table, a good cellar, and all the rest of it, aod to make his fortune in five years. Every shopkeeper has the pretentions of a nobleman, aud gives himself the airs of a Richelieu, and I have jost read on Vi-ry elegant paper an invitation in which ‘M. Three-asterisks begs Ma dame N. to do him the honor of visiting his showrooms and inspecting his staffs.’ I am told that refreshments, bouquets of violets, aud credit are offered to the fair visitors. Whan we add up the ex penses of the show, and when we re member that the gentleman who invitee means to make big profits Mid save, enough to live on bis income in tear or five vears. it will Ka that it is being a bore to excess to listen for fifty years to the monotonous burden of the song that the trades-people are complaining, and to acquiesce, thanks to that ditty, in France being ruined and revolutions enacted over and •gmSU Hope is the brightest star in the fir mament of youth. There’s very little or no opposition to the red hot poker. It is wisdom to think, and folly to sit without thinking. We are no longer happy so soon as we wish to be happier. A man of lofty thought and elevated opinion—a balloonist. The greatest happiness comes from the greatest activity. Love for the dead should not cramp our duty to the living. It is upon the smooth ice we fall; the roughest path is the safest. Occasions do not make a man frail, but they show what he is. Despise no one; for every one knows something thou knowest not. A prayer in its simplest definition is merely a wish turned God-ward. Genius at first is nothing more til a great capacity for receiving disc if Rashness is not valor; doubtful^ ought to make men resolute, nc True friendship is like sound its value is seldom known lost. He who rises late must trol and will scarcely overtake hi at night. True love always makes a ter, no matter who the wom| who inspires if What men want* is not talel purpose, not the power to achid the will to labor. He who does good for good’s seeks neither praise nor reward, sure of both at last. One may be better than his reputa tion or his conduct, but never better than ins principles. Tiie best way to show our apprecia tion of the Divine forbearance is to be forbearing ourselves. The feeble tremble before opinion, the foolish defy it, the wise judge it, the skilful direct it. Pay your honest debts before you subscribe to charitable undertakings. Honesty before charity. Let us have faith that right makes might, and in that faith let us, to the end, dare to do our duty. Life is not so excessively charged with sweetness that one needs to be continually throwing in acids or bitters. A man may be thought clever while he is seeking for wisdom; but, if he im agines he has found it, he is a fool. He who is false to present duty breaks a flaw in the loom; and will find the flaw when they have forgotten the cause. ■’’A Christian’s experience is like a rainbow, made up of drops of the grief of earth and beams of the bliss of heaven. There are some things I am afraid to do, and I confess it is in this great presence; I am afraid to do a mean • tiling. The commandments were given that men might live according to them; not merely that they might be acquainted witli them. We all know what our duties are, but we dodge them; we all know what our rights are, and we are bound to have them. A cheerful temper, joined with inno cence. will make beauty attractive, knowledge delightful, and wit good- natured. Power, in its quality and degree, is the measure of manhood. Scholarship, save by accident, is never the measure of a man’s power. The talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do well, and doing well whatever you do without a thought of fame. If you want to gain a reputation for eccentricity, and to be universally dreaded, if not hated, blurt out the plain truth on all occasions. The losses, troubles, sufferings of our daily life are only the dust and cinders blown into the traveller’s eyes on tiie journey to our heavenly home. It is how, far more than what we do, that is the source of the pleasure or pain which our daily lives are radiating upon those whom we love best Adversity has ever been considered as the state in which a man most easily becomes acquainted with himself, par ticularly, being free from flatterers. A narrow minded Christian leading a life of crooked prejudices and doing it conscientiously makes more atheists than all the infidel books ever written. Dr. Holland describes faith as draw ing poison from every grief, removing the sting from every loss, quenching the fire of every pain, and only faith can do it. When fate has allowed to any man more than one great gift, accident or necessity seems usually to contrive that one shall incumber and impede the other. Doubt has been the great discoverer. To question an old he is usually the first step toward a new truth. It is an act of heroism to dispute a moss-grown error out of existence. ^ Profanity never did any man the least good. No man is richer, happier, pr wiser for it. It commends no one to society; it is disgusting to refined people and abomifiable to the good. The man whom you can treat with unreserved familiarity, at the same time preserving your dignity and his respect, is a rare' companion, and his acquaintance should be cultivated. Men pray for holiness As if it were something mvfctiwiv ?rc~ ’ everyday life, something that had noth ing at all to do with their conduct in their domestic, social and business relations. «, - In every, man’s cup, bow bitter so- The fishermen beats the buyer by weighing the fish on its own scales. ever^ there are some cordial drops, sc which, good and if , .Sufficient to make him contented, and, if not happy, at least resigned.