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. : ? ? - -v ? ? * . WINNSBORO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JUNE . 11, 1884. J 'fgji . . ? .1?. ' iiii.i ' L Replying to Her Critics. If I should die, how kind you all would grow; In that stranjre hour I would not have a foe. There are no words too beautiful to say Of one who goes 1'ore verm ore away Across that ebbing tide which has to Sow, ? Ah, friends! before my listening car lies low; "While I can bear and understand, bestow That gentle treatment and fond love, I b The luster of whose lato though radiant B r Would gild my grave with mocking light I S5E?% If I should die. sHMP ?Ella Wheeler. r ? ^ "A Bottle." J m In a cabin iocfcrr f or man.-a year ' A bottle lay: And whether the weather * rae fair or clear, Or whether the ocean was rough and gray. The bottle had nothing to care or fear; Yet the ship was an iror oaken mass, And the other was n >thing but brittio glass? A bottle. XVbarn, t.h? billows rose hiffhe^t. the St Of 21 kins: ficw Over the soa; And the -waters foamed and the wild winds blew. While the mad waves tossed in a whirling glee. And all that was left of a ship and crew Came, bringing' its message with silent lips Of the peril of those who go down in ships? , A bottle. o, ?Ernest McGoHej. LUCY'S FOE. : Down on the Jersey shore, in a little j brown house with "unpointed floors, i lived Lucy Gray, the flower of the fish- ! ^ ing Tillage of Saltfish?the toast^ of every fisher-lad between Jersey Uity and Cape May. ' Lucy was a" delicate little thing, with a wild-roso color, golden hair, and tdeep, dark eyes, that had a trick of drooping shyly beneath their lon^ lashes whenever young Mr. Thornhill rode by the cottage on his thoroughbred horse, and bowed low to her as j she sat by the open window at her sew- ! ing; and Mr. Thornhill's bay horse j seemed to turn that way so naturally, j that Lucy's father at last took the alarm. They wero "Friends"?quiet, wellBk meaning people, who, if not rich, had j W at least been respectable all their days. j And George Thomhill was "of the ! world's peoplo"?his life was one long ! holiday of pleasure; his great marble 1 house on the hill was a very temple of luxury, over which his only, sister reigned as mistress, though only at his p pleasure. Friend Peter Gray, and his good i wife, Lucy, siioos tneir neaas over i their youn^ landlord's evident admira- 1 tion of their one ewo lamb. And be- I tween them, in solemn council, it was j arranged thai, Peter should speak to j k him civilly but seriously, the very next ; time that lie passed by. The same evening, as the old folks sat j by the kitchen fire, which the cold sea- j breeze rendered needful, summer j though it was, a great surprise came to j them. LLucv, who had gone on an errand to i *1 V irv florhor tUr> ' rwiiC JLICAu U.VU.?U> VtiuUUV> ?U) ?&*??** j they had expected- The "Young i Squire" (as the fishers generally called j ^ him) was with her. He led her to her j Hk parents, bowing his handsome head before them. |f|^. "I lova^oar daughter dearly," he | said, "Will you give ^her to mo for my j ' Our Lucyf* cried Peter Gray, as j - scon as he could speak for astonish- j W meat "Why, thee might marry the j daughter of the President, Friend ThornhiU, if thee liked!" "But I don't like,1' said the young Squire, with a smile in his deep blue eyes. "I have never seen the girl, ex* cept Lucy, that I could love; and she is fond of me, though you may not think so. Why, I have looked forward to marrying her ever since I first saw her sitting at yonder window, with a cluster of apple blossoms in her hair." j "An eternity, indeed!" said Friend j Gray. "I waited seven years for her ; mother, and I loved her dearer every moment of those seven years, I think." ! K "But there is no need of such a delay in our case," said the young Squire, looking frightened. "X. UVU LfUV iUiUVi. ViAV JVW* wo cannot give our consent," said Friend Gray consulting his wife by a . look- "At the end of a year thee may It take her, Friend Thornhill?not before." In vain the young Squire fumed and W fretted- The quiet Quaker was "set in P his way," and Lucyr knowing the great concession that he had already made, dared not plead for more. For it had . been the dream and hope of her par I ents to see her the wife of some steady young Friend, who would dwell with ^ her on a small farm near their own. ? Such a young Friend indeed existed. W who would willingly have carried out his own part of that peaceful programme; but Lucy, who had always Been so gentle to Charles Deane before her own beart was touched, had scarce ly a civil word to offer him during the lonor year of her conditional betrothal to the young Squire. Yet Charles Deane came to the brown cottage all the same, talking chiefly to . her parents during his visits, but castP ing long, sad looks at'Lucy that it f ~ " tried her patience terribly to ignore. That summer dragged on wearily r enough for Lucy Gray. Throughout fe each week there was only the week's work to do, of mending, making washk ing, baking, and attending to the eggs, the fowls, and the butter. 9 ^\, At dusk on Saturday evening, the l v whole house was in the neatest order, ft \ and all signs of labor done away. On the Sabbath no cooking was done I and food was eaten cold, while the family spent most of the day in the bUlblHIi SliVULW UX , and on. the Monday there was the same dull round for Lucy to begin again. It was not dull to her parents. They k enjoyed the perfect calm. They were happy in their home, in each "other, and in their only child, and life had nothing better to offer them than this ever-recurring routine of domestic and religious duty. But Lucy had listened from her earliest remembrance whenever the neighbors talked about "Thomhill Hall," as most of them called the great house on t lic J-LLLL. Sp She Iiad never entered its doors, yet she understood perfectly how differentn& ly existence went on there. She knew , |HH all about the magnificent carpets and ! gpL furniture, the curtains over the <rreat bay windows sweeping to the floor, jit velvet for the winter months, costly III' lace lined with rose-color for the sum||L mer." She had heard of the marble statues, , the costly chandeliers, the grand circu-; glkr staircase that went up and around Igktho very roof, the stained-glass winon every landing. s Thorn Mirs imported toilettes, low with color, mi^ht be seen by ;e who chose to oe in tho ono lof Salttish when tho barouchecolled slowly by. jae the greenhouses, hot-houses, Mag-pits, was not the hill at K all one glitter in tho sun j shine every day with the acres of f "glass" over which McClcary, the | Scotch gardener, presided? ' The poor little Friead looked sadly ! out through the summer from her drab I colored life upon this luxury and splen: dor, longing to share it, but only bo| cause it all belonged to4'George.'* ! Her head and heart were fun of her ! betrothed, and she so seldom saw him t ? - ? n attt Viwaf mnmr.nta ' ?iuv? , UJLUUJL/b iUi i? n U14W wuiuvuto ! in the presence of Lor mother, before i whom they were both naturally tonguei tied and abashed. She saw how theso restraints annoyj ed and worried him, and she did not j wonder that he camo less often when, i in the bright midsummer, his sister j filled the groat house with her own ! friends?bright young belles from the | city, before whose gay r&d fashionable j presence Lucy shrank away timid and i afraid. I George Thornhill was forced to play i tlie host to all these fair guests, he told ! her, when ho came to -esewse^feis abJ seuce. She acquiesced; and she heard i of the riding and driving parties, the j sails upon the lake, and the strolls by i moonlight, with perfect composure, j until the gossip of the neighborhood i assigned one of these fair belles to j George Thorahill, and to him alone, j Then Lucy grew jealous. She said i nnf-.hino' hnt soft took an oDDOrtunitv : one pleasant afternoon, of watching the ! return of the equestrians on a side road 1 leading from her house to Thorn hill Hall. ' Yes! There they were, precisely a3 people had said. George, her own George no longer, perhaps, was riding at the bridle-rein of the beautiful Miss Kate Ilford. '4' He did not even see Lucy, as they i passed by, though she stood gazing | sadT.y at him under a drooping elm oy th I wayside. But Miss Ilford, gorgeons j Egyptian princess that she was, saw, | and evidently recognized her rival. Such a scornfully triumphant glance i as she cast on her, utterly ignoring the ; pale and perfect loveliness of her face, | but taking in each detail or ner un; fashionable attire?lingering over it j with that air of pitying wonder with | which one woman knows so well how to crush another. ! Nor was this Jill. As Lucy shrank back under the drooping branches of. the elms, ashamed of herself, and still i more ashamed of her Quaker garb, a second lady, more, proud and imperious, but not so youEg or handsome as i Miss Ilford, reined her horse up by the giiiVsid<fc5? ? ?& ... .? ."You can see *or yourself, Lucy i Grav, where my. .brother's heart is given, she said harshly. "He loves Kate Ilford with ajl his soul, but he is a -rr>or> nf Unw nrw? will nfiVRY tell v/A ..... ?- ? her so unless you set him free. And that," she added scornfully, "you will never do, I suppose. You will not lose the chance of" marrying the richest man in the State. But I shall hate you, always! Never will I call you /sister,' remember that! And when yoa enter George's home I leave it -I will countenance no low born beggar as my brother's wife!". ; ? Meek as was Lucy, by nature and by training, her cheeks flashed crimson, W Jort mm -fir? at this MMU UOA UUiA vjvs ? ... taunt. "I am no beggar. Miss Thornlull," she said hotly. "And if your brother loves another, not for the world would I bo his wife." ?_ "Tell him so," said Miss Tiiornhill eagerly. "Write it to him this very day, and see how gladly he will be free from you." "I will," said Lucy proudly. And she went home and wrote the letter. i The next day she lay in a "brain fever, and her mother, guessing the state of the case from hor ravings, refused to let George Thomhill see her, j when ho rode down to the farm. Six weeus aiierwaras, wacu was able to 3it up by the open window once more, her mother told her, pityingly, of that visit from her lover. "Where is he now?" asked Lucy, turning white. "Gone abroad, with his sister and Miss Hford, and a great party of friends. No one knows when they will \ return. The great house is closed, and i left in care of the gardener and his wife." Lucy made 20 answer. She mentioned George Thornhill no more. As the year passed on to winter, her Earents hoped that she had forgotten im. But when, at Christmas they urged her to look more kindly on Fnend Deane, she burst into a passion of tears that frightened them. "Never speak again of marriage to me," she cried. "I gave my.neartj once for all, and it is broken now." | Spring smiled oncc more upon the j land, and Lucy wore no apple-blossoms in her hair,. Their color, their odor even, made her heart faint withinher. -s x But at the creat house--they were gathered in clusters to lay upon a coffin lid. George Thornhill had returned, and ! with him came his sister, but no longer living and imperious. - V Pale and cold she looked, under the heavy velvet pall, as they laid her 1 away in the Thornhill vault, and Lucy Gray, after one glance at the dead face, ent homeward, weeping bitterly.^ She had hated her, not knowing %' while in the bloom and glory of Ufa' she descended to the grave. i ' R-enrcrp. Thornhill had returned as he vent, unmarried. But Miss Hford re-j mained in Paris, the bride of a French) nobleman. In the evening a neighbor brought, this piecc of news to the brown cottage.. Lucy slipped away after hearing it, and went to the old trysting plr.ee ?o wonder what it could mean. George Thornhill was there beforo her. He turned, dressed in his deep mourning, to welcome her, gravely rut kindly. "Lucy, on her death-bed, my poor all ^ kn poi/? ??T C%TT?*T CylSilCk W1U LLLXJ rtU) - UV . OMAH* . A uv * w* ' loved Miss Ilford, as she assured you I did. I never thought of any woman save you as my wife. And you, 1 now ; know, did not love young Ueane, as I I then believed when I went away and I left you. We have both suSered, dear, j but we must forgive her, for she is in her grave. And can you forgive me, j Lucy? I have been true to you, God j I knows, all this wft.irv while." Lucy's pale face brightened into its j early bloom as she listened. She held 1 out her hand to her lover with a happy ! smile. And the past months of sorrow : and parting were forgotten, as beneath j ! the stars they sealed "their new betroth- j | a! with a kiss. Whales were eaten by persons of the upper classes in Europe as late, at least, as the latter part of the thir-J teenth century. The tail and tongue. dressed witn peas or roaswa, wore prized as cboicc delicacies. The Princess Eleanor de Montfort paid, in 1266, the stun of 24 shillings for "100 pieces of whale," to be used as food in hear household, ,.. j ' y-*r " .... - ? " - - . A . ' - Oil on the Waters. r " A patent for oastiog oil upon the troubled waters is certainly a novelty, but will hardly occasion surprise in this day and generation. The wonder will j rather be that we have been so long in ; finding out that the Scriptural metarnoo a K+o-rol fattt-. fmm I n<W (? UWiM* Aktrwv -- -~ j experience. From time to time inI stances have occurred where, ia exi treme cases, as a sort of dernier resort, oil has been poured out as a placating | libation to an angry sea; and /but a | short time ago we recorded the fact I that an Atlantic merchantman had | been saved from the fury of the tem! pestuous ocean by emptying to the * * ? -i -? -il TTL i winawara a cargo vi sperm-cm. xuu oil floated out and subdued the waves I to the extent of ; giving the vessel a i clearing free from the reach of the booming, breaking waves. Wei veni tured the opinion at the time that there ! might come from this successful ma| neuv-er. a practical scheme for future j protection. A step in this direction ' has been taken by & Mr. Shield!) of London, who has obtained a patent on an apparatus for oiling the ocean to mitigate storm dangers, He has exhibited his invention through, an exer; rise'of its powers in English waters, I effectually subduing the perturbations ; AAwinaee r\4 flin AhotmAl | V/4 bUQ wruicu VMi vuv I By this machine oil is forced throggh j pipes under the water surface, and nsj ing quickly seems to calm tho commoj tion in its struggle to the top.; The | effect was remarkable. The rough, chopping waves _ were subdued to a gentle, undulating motion- in which the Efe-bOat rode lightly, while before it 'had been dancing about like a cork. I Mr. Shields has an .!;oiI- shell" that i may be used as a projectile, to be; stor| ed on board ship. In an emergfcncy, | its time fuses, made water-prooS, are | lighted, it is flung from an ordinary I six-inch mortar, ana sent to tne .point : of delivery with reasonable accuracy, j The shells hurst, and almost immedii ately there is formed an area of undisI turbed water described as the4'oil field' ' : and the radius covered by a gallon.cfoil may be approximated with thebass of calculation that one drop will diffuse" itself over a; square yard. Another feature of the invention is a line of get-; ta-percha tubing pierced at intetyafer with valves. Tnis may be attachedly"1 ! lanyard to a solid shot and laid hytfce i discharge of the projectile. When the ; tube?and this is intended for shallow ! water?has settled, oil is pumped; into | it from the shore or ship end, forced ; through the valves," rises to the suri face, and produces comparative smooth. ness on the water surfaco. xue several experiments wcru : factorily made, and the greatest inter! est is felt in more extensive tests that j will be made in ocean disturbance. If j the results are equally decisive there, i the perils of ocean travel will be so j materially reduced that those remaini ing will not be allowed to count. It : might bo interesting ;to carry to a con! elusion the possible advantages gained ; by a liberal use of these machines for i a term of years. The "oil appears, to be : an economic force, since a drop is i equal to the surface of a square yard j OX yrztcr. HoWIUM^ I be accessary to give me enure wusu.# ; .regressive coating, .and what would ; thowastehy absorption to be 'overi come in maintaining the covering oncait ! was secured? This most turbulent and ; demonstrative ocean might in? a: ierm of years bo reduced to the most, ap: proved pacification, serviceable at ail | seasons and under all conditions of | travel This would particularly be .an ! equivalent to bridging the Atlantic, uniting Europe and America by a substantial pontoon of oil, along which thesharp-prowed Cunarders could, moue as gracefully and securely as a steamer . | on the Mississippi. Mr. Shields will-in : I all probability he knighted before he is i many years older. : Fairy Stories for Childrciu^^-j In the April North American Review J Tulian Hawthorne says;. >r:;; -4gj|i?] If wo believed?if the great mass ?? people known as the cmlized world did j actually and livingly believe ? that thera was anything beyond or abeve^ the physical order of nature, our .cinir; dreii's literature, wrongly so called, wouldnot bewh&t it is.-We before that we can see and touch? we teach them to believe the same, and*.: not satisfied with that, we sedulously warn them not to believe anything else. The child* let us .suppose, has heard frozn J soma unauthorized person that there are fairies?little-magical creatures^m. inch high, up to all manner of delight*; ful feats. He comprehends the whole matter at half a word, feels that he had . known it already, and half thinks that he has seen one or - two on his waj^ home. He runs up to his mother and tells her about it; and has she ever seen ..fairies? Alas! his mother tells him that i | the existence of such a being as aiairy.| | is impossible. In old times when the1 world was very ignorant and supersti I tious, they U3ed to ascribe everything I that happened to supernatural agency; j ! even the trifling.daily accidents of one's ! life,'such as turrpfling down stairs, putj ting the right shoe on the left foot, I were thought or fancied to be the work ! of some mysterious power; and since ignorant people are very apt to imagine they see "what they believe [pro; ceeds^fcisjnofcherJjingiead of believing what they see; ana since, furthermore, 1 ignorance disposes to exaggeration and thus to untruth, these people ended by asserting that they saw faines. "Now, my child," continues the parent, "it would grieve me to see you the victim of such folly. Do not read fairy stories. They are not true to life; they fill your mind with idle notions; they cannot form your understanding, or i aid you to do your work in the world. If you should happen to fall in with ' VV/\ AO rrmi fVom OULU w ^aiCiUA C+0 J\J I* ivuu WMUUA i to bear in mind <hat they are pure inventions?pretty, sometimes, perhaps, but ossentiallyiriyolous, if not immoral You have, however, thanks to tho enlightened writers;and- publishers, an endless assortment of juvenile books and periodicala-which-combine legitimate amusement with sound and trustworthy instruction. Here are stories about little children just like yourself, who talk and act just as you do, and to whom nothing supernatural or outland wiliAffA I isn. ever littppcjus; auu wuwo auiw tures, when you read them, convey to you some salutary moral lesson. What more can you want? Yes, very likely 'Grimm's" Tales' and 'The Arabian Nights' may seem more attractive; but in this world many harmful things put on an inviting guise,* which deceives the inexperienced eye. May my child remember that all is not gold that glitters,. and desire, not what is. diverting merely, but what is useful and . . . | and conventional!" William N. Clark, a leading groceryman of Rochester, has suddenly be1 AArnA VMSO i . " UA; QfOfl wuio TiVAoxiucj uv , that he is tiie ori^iaal Rip Van Winkle, addresses &s vpie as Gretchez^c^ imagines that lie has been asleep"!$T A Chinese Newspaper. A writer in Cassell's Family Magazine makes the following interesting extracts from the Peking Gazette, the . official newspaper of the Chinese empire: But if there are thefts, murders and ' -{ JAmArtwAMo rxr'f^nc fliarfn] oro^ll I i 1J I nU.^LUUQMI\^1. 4v?i,4Mi vavvm tions and the bastinado, in the celestial empire, there is also the virtue reward office, and its reports are frequent in the Peking Gazette. What manner of virtue is rewarded we shall glean from a few oxamples. A petition with a long list of influential names is sent up to-the throne,: praying that a monument be erected to immortalize the name of Lady Ho. Lady Ho had been married, at eighteen, to Lu Shu-yung. When he was ; seized with his last illness, the lady, : .'.'although occupied, every night in se-. cretly burning incense and offering up tearful prayer, maintained during the ?*1? AAnnfAnonAA uaj( . a-Viitpni hu wwuubhuwi m.v parents might not be overcome by dejection For months she changed not her raiments, but devoted herself sedulously to administering to the wants of her husband; and finally, as a last resource, she cut from her arm a piece of flesh to mix with the * medicine/' Bat it was all unavailing; Ln Shu-ynnif died- Ho fainted several times witn grief. "But she had already resolved not to outlive, her husband, and after nrivatelv writing to her sister-in-law ta . come and attend upon the two parents, already advanced in years, she; swallowed a gold ring, and at the age of thirty-four thus sacrificed her life." And we should certainly add our stone. to her cairn but for that little business of the ring, which, though prettily devised and according to Chinese notions virtuously done, sounds badly to western ears. Another lady, by name Wu-chang, is to have a memorial arch erected to her i for a similar suicidal sacrifice. He* husband having died before one year of , j marriage, she was dissuaded from killhis parents/Vf Moh duty ^e^s^ried out ~declrc^:?h&kshe^^^ hus^nd?a^Kfusii^ay^oi3d,.di6d after : s&vm^.dxf&czA third - Isiy;;:!^ name i Waagi' residing at^ GhohChew, not \ only chopped herself on all occasions in the most frightful, manner, but ap- 1 plied burning incense-sticks to her ] arms, to provide.cures-for her rela- < tions. Under all these overcharged ex- ; amples -we mnsfr not be blind to the ! true national,virtue of the Chinese, ( their devotion toparents and the ladies j who are faithful to * 'one love in a life J' < are worthy of all honor; but it troubles ' * a - -3 ' i. i. ,7 *4 us Den.lgfl.ttJQ. westerners wj reau ui tua i fair wee-footed creatures burning, I starving, and cutting themselves, or < even swallowing gold rings. The ) virtue reward office has often better i work than this to do; fidelity, filial de- 1 votlon, the braveiy of soldiers who die 1 Tin battle, the virtue of women who sac-, i rifico-life rather than honor?there are .1 things to be rewarded with more than i posthumous titles and memorial 1 -arches., ft } ^ - , i b UJ Jjne Ot ??To"St^aJ"t^c3 C ^ I remain for us" to glance torero is the let-1 ? J ter anditribute of the king**# Bonn ah j ! to the.empcror of - Chinas who was at i the :time, we mast not forget, however t | patriarchal in official documents, in c j reality a mere baby of between three 1 j. and four oddly destined to have gray- 1 j ity, ceremony and splendor, instead of i i natural childhood- Meng-ttm, king of i Bunnah, sends a letter written-in gold ^ to bo laid before the throne of the great i emperor of .the-heavenly dynasty. He c calls Mm$cH.vhis vassal, kis insispaifias the, snniloWer^tws ^breftfie sun, all mankind turns.'.. with adoration towards the imperial- person; and his I iattcE; -eadsr- .by-\ wishing lus. imperial * majesty ^loag^Ifeiec^ten^ thousand? ? I<?:^.-lbbwand^0tBajid years," The Ms&ei tnfeu?fr,presee.ts which were to ? UfeideIitCTed>feat the palace gate, in* I '&&&?*?&&'betteript&w. ir&gold, a ? Burmese image qf thjagod b?Joi%evity, * immense 5 iiwr-OJtiToijftraks* tSjgk and-jewels, * thoitsaiids' at. sheetsxj?r.gcrt&-lzs.t and t BHver-leaf,;heapsi>? sandalwood; and, in the sactQx-wonderful catalojne with v 1 1 1? J ?1? ??o- c UIU fiiUU icncU) uibgyu i cocks' tails, twenty bottles of scent and , pomade, several pieces, of thick, heavy , shirting (no doubt from Manchester), i ami?last, not least, and decidedly use- , fal Jor .an emperor?twenty foreign t carpet-bags." " " \ J ' * ^ .. .. ... * Daniel Webster's Court Dress. - - I g -iMr. Webster andJodgerlhianeDoty, t then, of Green Bay,Wis^ were warm- I friends, and the Jadge;at dne time was f a visitor at-Mawhfield^- Mr:: Webster -j waa very fend of &shkig-~^the: only .out- c door sport in.- which- -he- indulged, 'g While the Judge was his guest it' t chanced that a fine day for his sport i presented itself of which Mr. W. -was- s anxious to avail himself. He accordingly invited the Judge to accompany i him in this piscatory sport. '< me c Judge didn't want to go and tried his- '.j best to get of? saying he would much t prefer, with his consent, to pass that c rainy day in Mr. W.'s library, arsons -1 his books and papers. Mr. W. woulda^ t -listen-to him; said he could pass any I and as many days in the library as he t chose, but such a day as that for fishing 1 mteht not occur again while they were t at Marshfield. The Judge, as a last t resort, said that he really could not go, i as it would spoil his clothes, that the a i handsome black suit he had on was his r ! best and all he had, and that to go fish- ? I * ? ? "** amall i* Ta mflof fTllfi J! 111? III 1W VYUIUU OUWU Alt. AV UIWVU 1IUM7 v objection Mr. W. directed his servant i George to go up-stairs and bring down \ the dress in which ho was presented at ; t court in England, which George did f As soon as he appeared with it Mr. W. c said: "There, Doty, is a dress for you; i put it on, and come as soon as you j can, for we are losing valuable time.'- t The Judge replied: "Surely, Mr. I Webster, you ace not in earnest in c what you say?that you want md to go t fishing in that elegant suit, and spoil \ it?" ; - c "Yes, I am," he replied; 'that is t what it has been brought down for." c _The Judge still lingered, when Mr. W., to settle the matter, said to mm: I "Have no anxiety about injuring the dress, for to fish and hunt in it is the only way it can now bo made usefuL c Could I wear it in Washington, Phila- i delphia, New York, Boston, or even here? If I did, wouldn't everybody 1 laugh at me?" Tno Judge was compelled to answer affirmatively to the question. e "Well, then," he said, "pray what is it good for but to go fishing in?" J Thia settled the matter. Tno Juctee s put on the dress and went fishing in 1 Mr. W.'s court suit, and saved hia < own.?Harper's for April i Newly imported scarfs for gentlemen 1 -ere^aot^aa- gaudy, and .brilliant as they | wertf^a fact men "of refined taste wilj l, appreciate. ? J f Statesmen at Whist. I suppose the greatest whist quartet in Wamiugton for many years was that made up of Garfield, Frye, Randall, and "Alec*1 Stephens. Thehouso committee on rules, of which they wero members, met at Long Branch in the summer of 1878. They began playing there, Frye and Stephens against Gar lieid and RandalL Stephens piayea a wonderful game. Bolstered up with pillows in his chair he would sit by the hour without becoming wearied. After the first two or throo turns he had an unfailing power of telling where the cards were held. He hated to have a poor partner, for it disturbed his calculations, but with Fryo he was always content and serene. Frye is a strong, impulsive player. When winning, his face beams like a child's, but once behind and it .becomes. a serious affair. xa?-?r xteaa uneasy ana: restless uu*u ? fe& iucky deals pat him ahead again. ' Stephens and Frye were in excellent contrast, for the former never apparently took the slightest interest, save as his eyes lighted np occasionally? at a remarkably strong suit Garfield never, concealed anything. His plays Were always open. Only once did heever try leading from a "sneak." The 1 look that met Inm from Stephens was 1 Bueh that it was never known to hap-j pen mm. Randall, in whist, as everywhere else, ib cold and calculating. He does not play a scientific j game, but a well-sustained one, and is & safe partner. Yon can see that the j four are pretty well balancocL But Five and Stephens won. Frye was fortunate and Stephens skillful. Day after day they kept ahead. Afterward, when the four returned to Washington, the games were kept up, Twice a weqjs regularly the others would go down to Stephens1 old-fashioned parlor at the National hotel, aud there play exactly up to midnight . Of course, they had varying fortune but in the long run the first winners came out ahead. The morning afterward the members would always ass inem, u they appeared at the capitol, how the games of the night before resulted. Every winter up to the time Garfield was nominated for the Presidency the four kept at it, but then it was broken t>& with the intention of resuming after he was once fairly seated in the white house. But he was shot so soon bhat the plan came to nothing. Stephens wanted to keep on and to fill Sarfield'e place. Harry Smith, the journal clerk of the house, was taken. Very soon afterward Stephens was elected governor of Georgia, and went ivsrav. never to come back. With his ieparture the series dropped, he and J Frye still ahead. Last winter several senators, including Messrs. Hoar, Frye, Sherman, Morrill, Warner, Miller, A1inch, and others, made up a club and 51ayed often, but it is not continued. tierman is one of the best players in e senate. Ben. Harrison is reputed x> be, but I never heard Of his playing. Senator Bayard likes to take a hand, afct he h3s not the book knowledge hat some oi his brother senators y>ast of. Bik the critical scientists on jus.subject sre not so numerous as feMQMtag" HHSOK "mSrnm*' igo", "when half the members were loted hands. No man ever loved the game more han old Judge Thurman. "With his >ld red bandana on the table to dry lis- face with, he was alternately in the IlgUtJBb ?> Wll/C Ui. C^.U-LW?W*JJUL AUK. U.Ok>?/?U4.? i.t times Mme. Thurman would find it lecessary to take a seat by his side rith her quiet "Don't grow excited, JJlen" to keep her husband in his :hair.?Washington Cor. Troy Times. Yokohama, Japan. In this commercial capital of Japan very thing struck us as curious, every resh step afforded increased novelty, svery new sight was a revelation, srhile all about us were tangible repreentat ns of the impossible pictures of he cheap fans, the lacquered ware of ommerce, and the school-books. The partial nudity of men, women and ihildren, the extremely simple archiecture of the dwelling-house, the vegeation, the extraordinaiy salutations ifttween the common ueonle who meet ach other upon the streets, the trading tooths of bazaars, and the queer, toyike articles which filled them, children lying kitesrni- the shape of hideous yelo?raohsters^each subject/became a rcsh;'study-. Men propelling vehicles ikec*%0EB03. between the' siafta, and rotting six-mile pony gait yhSej&kwing after them one or two lersons with ease; was at first a singular aspect. toastrangor. So were he naked ^coolies,- -by lours, bearing iesvy loads-of merchandise swung rom their shoulders upon stout bamboo -1 o A K7133, Wmie WVJ aiioutgu a uioaouicu :hant by- which to keep step. No beg'ars^wcreseen o&the-pablic streets, he~pecplo without exception seeming leai -and clean in their remarkably canty " overing.;: j The houses were special examples of leatness-andoftoy-like size, being sel[<mt more than twenty feetsquare. All >ersocs, foreigoecs ornatires, took off heir shoes before entering apon their lelicately-lacquered or polished floors. His we net only-did out of respect to he universal custom of the country, mt because one- -did- not leel like reading upon those -floors with nailed teols or soiled leather soles. The conviction was forced?upon us that such miversal neatness and . cleanliness aust extend even to the moral charicter of thepeople. . A spirit of gentletess, industry and thrift was observ ible everywhere, imparting an Arcalian atmosphere* We saw at first no Lomestic animals except a-tailless cat, eith an attempt at that appendage which was a. decided and: ignominious ailure. These creatures were fre[uently -tied tc- the house-door likq a log, hut for what purpose who can say? L cat confined after that fashion elsewhere would strangle^ itself directly, jater on we saw specimens of the curi>ns lap-dogs of the country; so-dlminuive. as to be quite remarkable, and which were highly prized, though one :ould see no Deauty or attraction in heir snub noses and big, bulging iyes.? Bailouts Due West. A Perfect Gentleman. "Who is that man who has just gone >ut?" asked a traveler of a bar-ke6per n Deadwood City the other day. "That," replied tho bartender, that's a perfectgentleman?one of the H03t perfect gentlemen in the camp." "Indeed," said the surprised stranjcr. "Why, the other night, over at Jack Bowie's game, ho killed a man for ;omething or other, and tho next day to paid the undertaker's bill out of his >wn pocket and sent the widow a bar- . 'el of flour. It is true he madoabig y inning and all that, but how many nen do you meet nowadays with a preat big~heart liko that? He's a perfect gentleman, sir."? Columbus {Ohio} Some Qgzettt PREYING ON FRECXD& Men Who Live By Borrowing**? Types of the Class. . There are borrowers and borrowers, and from tbe mildest to the most aggressive, unblushing and insatiable type of this class of human parasite there is probably no class of peoplo on earth more shunned and detested. There is nc limit to the inveterate bor rower s assurance, iie wni borrow ms best friend's last dollar, and his conscience?if he has one?seems n<iver to rebuke him. The chronic borrower of the worst type cannot be more forcibly delineated than he is in the character of Narcisse, the handsome youns: Creole who figures so prominently in George W. Cable's novel, "Dr. Sevier." This type of the borrower never repays, and never really intends to. ajtnpugh-.ihe sophistry, "of Ms nature is so inuch-the master of him that in assuring his victim that he will certainly refund the amount borrowed hG can almost make himself believe that such is really his intention. Narciase represents that tvne of bor rower who is utterly selfish," yet who manages, through an affected artlcssness which is almost natural, to make it appear that he is the most benevolent and kindly disposed person in the world- Assuming always the attitude of a chosen frienC he is not to be repulsed except by downright insult His chief weapon is flattery, and his favorite victim one who can resist it no more than he can summon courage to meet repeated advances by a blank refusals The young man on a small salary whose tastes-arc more fastidious than those of many a millionaire invariably parts with his monthly or weekly sti/irmaiHrt?-r>KlT7 in <<^T7inr>f? of its Tr> ceipt. He bridges over his pecuniary chasms by borrowing of his friends and fellow-employes. There is nothing mean about this kind of a borrower. He despises a penurious man above all others, bat then penurious men are never borrowers, and, while abundantly able, they are seldom known to lend. The borrowing clerk or employe confines his patronage to one victim at a time. First he borrows a quarter to get his lnnch, and repays it with scrupulous promptness. He repeats the process at frequent intervals, and, while increasing his demands from 25 cents up to twice or three times that, rinfts Tint fail tn rafnnd thfi amount ae cording to agreement. Then he gives his victim a ore a thing spell while he commences preliminary proceedings with 'a fresh unfortunate. Seleoting now a favorable time and place, he returns to his first friend and unbosoms himself in a burst of confidence not to be resisted. He must have $10 or he is ruined, and explains the whole matter so plausibly that the lender cannot refuse him. Having been in the past promptly repaid he has no reason for refusing, so he hands over half of his week's salarv and sees the last of it. - The borrower, with a cool hardihood that does not exist elsewherestudies to give the impression that he has forgotten all about' his obligation, _&n1d>theJejjder is .too. proud to remind i OZiu iXil. ^ There is one type of the chronic bor- ( rower whose frank, open hearted manner is simply marvelous. It is his stock in trade. He will slap you on the back in the friendliest manner in the world, and, looking1 you smilingly in the face, will say: uYon haven't got a couple of dollars about you, have you, my dear foll/iTrrS T rinflirn T fnroTifr mv rxv.lrfit 'v"v " 1 ??j r~ book this morning and am completely strapped!"' Or course, he gets the couple of dollars and you may be sure that you will never see it again. Every day for weeks, perhaps months, the borrower, if he sees you across the street, will come over purposely to say: "Well, I i declaro, I forgot all about that little matter this morning; what a bore, to be auroP1 You a^ree with him heartily as to the last clause of his remark, but politely request him not to mention it Finally your coolness rather discourages him, and he, too, like every other member of his class, makes it convenient to fornret all about the matter. Then there is your distant relative, or the man who once did you a small favor. He is as susceptible to insult?8 he is lazy and shiftless. As employer after employer discharges him for insolence, arrogance or utter incapacity, or as he voluntarily quits work in order to maintain his cheap dignity, he Comes to you to keep him out of the gutter, to brace him up and get him another situation. The longer you pay for his board and clothes the more he is willing to let you, and the easier is he insulted by his successive employers, who do not recognize his title to an assumption of dignity which so overbalances his actual usefulness. These are some borrowers, but their nam? is legion and their methods countless. The Business Outlook. Wall Street is said to be the pulse of the nation. The good times are discounted by the great operators of the street. The great prosperity of '79 and *80 first showed itself in prices on the stock exchange. Tho drought of '81 and the bad times which followed caused depression in securities which was not felt in the general business of the country till later. For two years prices have been on the down grade, but early in February a changed feeling manifest ed itself in the street. The "bears"? that is the sellers of the market?failed in their efforts to still further depress prices, and the "bulls" took a hand in the game of speculation and succeeded in establishing a higher range of values. Then the iron market became more active. Sagacious business men say that the price of iron tells the story of the industrial situation. When the quoted values of that metal fall, it means that all the industries of the country are suffering; but when there is a new demand for tools and engines?that is, for iron and steel?it shows that the business of the country is reviving. Tbe price of iron steadily went down from 1881 to 1S84, but the February of this year told a different story. The demand for iron increased and there was an advance in its price. There are, it is true, some bad business indications. There are many failures, wages are being reduced, the bank currency is contracting, and gold is being shipped abroad but after all we have plenty of currency and the surplus of last year's j crops is large. Our population is increasing, and the condition of our ma- I chinery for doing work was never better. The American people are hopeful as well as enterprising, and ii ths crops this year are at" all good, they will be as prosperous a? ever in the closing months of this year. -yMiss Cleveland, a sister of the Governor of New York, is lecturing on <?Mddi?val History." She resides at i fioKaadtPatent, N. Y-, and is a lady ?J gaperiorjrqltare. _ J Fairy Lodge. The following description of an ideal children's play-house, by Mary A. Lathbuiy, in St Nicholas for April, may be found to contain helpful hints for some of both of our grown-up and "On the level brow of a mountain, within a hundred miles of the office of St. Nicholas, stands a lovely home. There are many beautiful and interesting things in and around the home, gather ed'from foreign lands and from our own, and nothing has been left undone that could help to make the six children of the home wise and happy.' But the happiest thought of all was the building of the little log cabin, called rairy Lodge. i . . "There was a great deal of pleasure got out of the building and the settling of the Lodge. I think the great chim. .ncy .must have been built wfc'tjtf tfic -'logs are ablaae ifr it;-items: the heart and lungs 'of the house.;: The fire-place almost fills one side of the 'living-room,' and all the old-time utensils are there,?the andirons, the crane, the tongs, the bake-kettle, the iron tea-kettle, while the bellows hangs by the chimney-side. "There are no 'modern antiques7 -inFairy Lodge, and everything is a bit of history. The cupboard at one end of the fire-place- is filled with rare old odds and ends from many a broken set of china. On the right of the fire-place staxds the spinning-wheel, and the great arm-chair is drawn close to the Draided rug before the fire. 'Then there are chests and dressers with brass corners and handles, and chairs, and tables with spindle legs; old-time mirrors, and a clock with a time-worn face; arid, in a corner, the big-woolwheel, the swifts, and the reel. "There are interesting pictures on the log walls?miniatures of men with high, rolling collars, and of women witn snort waists ana putty sleeves; and there are documents of historic value, yellow with age and heavy with seals, in frames of tarnish gilt. There are books also, in which the 's's are all fs,1 as one of the six children said;? and psalm-books full of 'quavers,' 'semi-quavers,' and demi-semi-quavers.' ' "There is a kitchen, opening out of the 'living-room,' which nas the modern innovation of a cook-stove. ' The two elder girls practiced cookery at i the Lodge, and could not reach the ! best results with a tin bake-oven and a i i J / ; iong-nancuea irymg-pan. "Oil those long and lovely days ! when there are guests at the home, the ' ! Lodge, as you may imagine, is a cozy | retreat for the giris and their friends. I ! There is the last recipe from the Cook! ing Cinb to be tried" in the morning, ! and a tea at five o'clock. There is no hurry, for there is no heavy work to bs done before 'company' comes. "There is an old-fashioned flowergarden in front of the Lodge; and the old-fashioned flowers have Had the honor of going, each summer, with the flowers from the home conservatories, in thousands of bouquets, through the Flower MissioD, to the city hospitals and the sick-rooms of the poor." unencamzmg Jc*aris ooniBiusm.. The two voting newspaper men who are making a tilt just at present m the way of Americanizing Parisian journalism are named Chamberlain and Ives. The former is a son of the late Ivory I Chamberlain, and for a number of years he acted as private secretary of James Gordon Bennett. The holder of that position must be a crack journalist, because Bennett likes to imagine ? - J .V X nimseu an eauoriai writer, ?au is iui- j ever suggesting subjects which his secretary has to write out Chamberlain got"$10,000 a year and all his expenses for traveling with Bennett. It is said that some ot his former employer's money is invested in the Paris Morning News. Ives, who has a slice of the .property, used to be in New York journalism. He came to New York from Buffalo, where his parents I reside stilL He is a tall, slim young man with an. olive complexion and a big black eyebrow that runs straight across his forehead. There is a strain of Indian blood in his veins. Some i vears a2:0 he married the lovely and accomplished daughter of Mr. Frank B. Carpenter, the artist He went abroad to -work in London for the Associated Press; and distinguished himself I by hunting Oakey Hall to his hiding place when that erratic individual ran away to England some years a~o. Ives was then snapped up by the Herald, whose work ho did in London for two or three years. Finally Mr. Bennett ordered him to Paris, Dublin, San Francisco and New York in quick succession, countermanding each order just as Ives got under way. That was too much for the young man's Indian temper, and he sent in a hot letter of resignation, to which Bennett replied: "I have received your impudent communication, and its contents are quite satisfactory to me." Then Ives wrote back: "Wad to ?now you nuns; mu impudent I have been told that all I I needed to make me a first-class Herald i man was a complete stock of that ! article." On the whole, Chamberlain j and Ives are the kind of young men who seem likely to make journalism I hum in Paris.?New York World. Arthur's Two Hundred Wives. We most always have some Indians here, says a Washington letter writer. They want to see the president once in a while, and the president and secrei tary of the interior want to see them, j The Indians always have a good time. I They are brought" here in good style, j carefully shown all the attractions of i the town, and lionized by the people in J a certain sort of society. They don't { usually get the thing they come for; but they always get something, and [ sometimes it seems better than the thins asked for- Some New Mexico Indians, recently at the capital, carried back with them ideas somewhat more extravagant than usual. They began the story with the remark that President Arthur was the wealthiest man in the world; that in his great treasury gold and silver were as plentiful as the sands on the plains of New ! Mexico, and that in this great storehouse the president has 200 wives, who j have nothing else to do but count out ,'paper money for him all day long. j Feminine naivete?Miss Darling:" O, Mr. Springer, I must thank you for vour last noveL It is nositivelv on j trancing!" Springer, the rising young ! novelist, (charmed by Miss Darling's enthusiasm): "Really"? I am delighted that you are pleased. Tell me, candidly now, how you like the finish." Miss Darling (with sweet simplicity): "Why, to tell the truth, I've been so busy reading some real important ! works that I have not found the time ! to get beyond the tenth chapter of the i 'Switary" Rover.' " Mr. Springer is J himself a Solitary iiovcr lor tnc real ox i 'tho evening. ., 1 | | WIT AND HUMOR i Why was-?k>seph the straightestman J on record? Because Pharaoh made ! him a ruler. .... . . ' The gentleman hunting for widows is referred to the pension office, where ! the names and addresses of thousands j arc kept It is a remarkable fact that however well young ladles may be versod in | grammar, very few are abie to doclino | matrimony. . A Virginia girl married a tramp who j turned out to be a duke. We've nopity i for her.- She^houia-have known what J he was before she married him.* I I A Wisconsin woman has predicted a tidal wave on Lake TVffohig*" in June next. The gentler sex seems tb be crowding into siH the'professions. \ A Long Island bbv onenefd thbfbird . I pot 'song-"' ' att fTvA' /*r' 4-11a ow&l vu UiU ^IV/UUU biUib UUQ UUU : needed sir. -Then, oh! how-his-mother fanned him; I -./. j . i The San Francisco Evening Post s&ya that the most effective way to keep a ^ manes' memory green is not to build a monument to him, but to * bo eternally talking aTxmf doing so. ,, . "r A, colored barber in Idaho has drawn the color line; he refuses to ' share' Indians. He evidently thinks himself better than the American Government. ?jDrake's Traveler's Magazine. - ^ ' You are weak," said a woman to her. 8on,^jsio *seasl remonstrating against her . marrying again. "v "Yes, mQther,"'.he replied, "I am so weak that I can't go a stepfather." . The saying is reeved of the latd Mr. Abram "Hajward, tfiat *'There sire -bundreds of ihigliBb families: wandering it. r\ 4.-??4. i fi iUUlt'U UVC1 vJLlu OUliUlitJilV VI their dislike and reluctance to ,*lead trumps." * - "No, I don't object* to the smell 'of a cigar," saS^a "widow* to her. loyer. "It reminds me Of deaf John, who declared "that although fce' dicPnt like the las to of -tobacco, he had;to smoke to keep ...the moths- out of his moutk";? Man y.. , Vi :t#." Oil iStu (^K9tWu9 Pious joke: A bashful young .clergyman" in Nebraska 'lately rose," peonycolor, to begin his sermon, and started off beautifuHy^'ftlTMs text as "And immediately the cock: wept J* and Peter went out and crew bitterly.? Independent. ... ^ . -\ i A man has beep, arrested here .with 160 pounds of unclaimed brass in his m possession^ "Chicago drummers'who Sk miss a portion!"1 of their-featitres can <fl come forward, prove properly, kiyttake back their lost cheek.?Fittsfrurg Ckron- f W icle Telegraph? "My dear," said Mr. Muekleham to / . "J nis wife, "those hams I bought the other day are so badly: spoiled .they ^ V cannot be eaten." . "What a pity/' his wife replied. "Guess we'd bettejtfsend them out to the charity hospital.1'? / > Axkan&ajw Traveler. - t WlCy Andre- is S years old; she is ./ ?0^,^ playing with her doll, and in her' talk /V J with it she calls'herself a lady. ''You . , a lady ?" says one of the friends pre3- f jjMfl ent purposely to bother h^r..A^ my little one V?Frerxk Fun '. A-yonn^ mother, -traveling with, her - . ' infant child, writes the folio wing, letter . " ' > to her husband at home: "We are all doing first-rate, and enjoying ourselves very much. We are in fine health. The boy can crawl about on all fours. Hoping that the same be said of you, I remain, etc., Fanny." "I am sorry Sedpath left Ireland just as he did," said Judge Curran .to a Dublin newspaper man the other day. *ii ne naa oniy maae up ms mrna 10 stay a month longer I would have so / arranged it that he would be here yet" "Aii, now so ?" "In jail,11 responded the Judge, grimly. A young man applied for a position in a doctor's office. "What can you do ?" asked the physician. "I kain't do nothin' yet, but i want to learn how to hack off legs. Got a nat'ral hankerin1 for sich work. Cut one of the Pendleton boys all 'ter pieces tuther day," so pap 'lowed Td better be a doctor." A lady asked a learned professor if he understood Chinese. He did. "Well, what is 'mouth' in Chinese P" 4 Mouth is k'eu." A week later the lady suddenly asked the professor: "What is" kitchen door in Chinese?" "It ir k'eu." "Very remarkable. A week ago you said 'mouth' is Ifea." "Quite so," answered the professor; " whatever opens and shuts is k'eu in Chinese." More deaf than formerly?Little Girl-?"Papa, did mamma say yes to you right off when you asked her to marry you ?" Papa?"Certainly she did."* L. G.?"Why don't she say ye3 now just as quick when you ask her to ai on r? ..I,. ao uungs r jca^a?-mammas uuaxing is not ao good now, darling?, that's all." A mot was related at Mrs. Monlton's a day or two ago by a bright Boston woman that is worth repeating. 4'The difference between .New York and Boa* ton men," said the lady, "is that tho men of Gotham are so hurried they run against you, while the men of Boston are so wrapped in a cloudland of meditation that you run against them." A visiting friend found "Simkins with hiis coat off standing on' the doorstep the other night, and remarked r : "Suffering Csesar, man, you'll catch an awful cold oufchereoa your shirt-sleeves.'1' That's what I wanV' said JSimkins, cneeriuuy,, sing a ossesoio ai a church entertainment to-morrow night, you know ."?Washington Hatchet. "Why, how wonderfully lifelike!" said Mr. Derrix, g?n|ly caressing a bumble-bee which reposed among the artificial flowers ancf Bisects on his wife's new bonnet; "if it was on a garden flower I'd swear it was all?Gerreat Cscsar!" ho suddenly shrieked, inserting a wounded finder in his mouth, and dancing around likea whirling dervish, "why, the blamed thing is alive!" A worldly father, after the stylo of Lord Chesterfield, is giving good advice to his son, who is about to enter society?"And, above alL avoid flirtations." But if you must flirt or fall in love, be sure that it is with a pretty woman. It is always safer." "Why?" "Because some c?lcr fellow will bo sure to be attracted and cut you out before any harm has been done."? London Post ' Parrots are queer creatures, and.like monkeys, sometimes seem like a very burlesque upon humanity. One South American bird had unfortunately learned on ship-board the habit of profane language. The mate, a little ashamed' of the creaturc's profanity, undertook a euro by dousing it with water at each offense. Polly evidently imbibed the reoroof. for durimr a o-ale. when a heavy sea broke over a nencoop and deluged hens and cocks pretty thoroughly, she inarched up to the dripping fowls - and screamed out, "Been swearing again, hain't ye ?"