Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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VOL. XLII. YVINNSBORO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 3. 1886. NO. 27. Bonnie Stratheyre. Therv's meadows in Lanark and mountains ir Sky<\ And pasture* in Hielnndand Lnwlandsforbye: But there's nae fjreater luck that the hearl could desire Than to herd the fine cattle in bonnie Strath eyre. K O. it's up in the morn and awa' to the hill. When the lanir simmer days are sae warm and sae?*'l]. Till the poi:k o' Ben Voiriich is girdled wi' fire. And the e.-Din'fa's gently on bonnie Stratheyre. Then th^T?'* mirth in the sheiling and love in rmy Cs-c^st. When the sun is jrane doun and the kye are at For there's roony a prince wad be proud to aspire To mv winsome wee Maggie, the pride o' Strotheyre! Her lips are like rowans in ripe simmer seen. And mild as the starlis-ht the glint o' her een; Far sweeter her breath than the scent o'the briar. And her voice is sweet mu^ic in bonnie Stratheyre. Set Flora by Colin and Magjrie by me. And we'll dance to pipes swellin' loudly and free. Till the moon in the heavens climbing higher and higher Bids us sleep on fresh brackens in bonnie Stratheyre. Though some to gay touns in the Lawlands will roam. And some will gang sodgerin' far from their home Tet I'll aye b?t! my cattle, and bigg my ain byre. And love mj ?n Majrgie in bonnie Stratheyre. ?Harold Boulton in Spectator. "FROM THE HOSPITAL." ''Yes," said the Rev. Mr. Dibble. "I know I could depend upon the hospitality of my Sock to entertain this excellent L . voung divine.seeing that my own house^ liold is in so disorganized a condition. owing to the exigencies of cleaning house. It will be only for a night or two, and w*? all know what is promised tKo o no*^l !in. IV LI1V/9C T UV iVVVi ? V.' 11?V/ tvw^v* v?.? aware*!" And Mi. Dibbi^ rubbed his hands and looked smilingly around upon the members of the Young Ladies' Aid Association, while a v>;ry preemptible murmur of assent rose up from this ng-^resrrite S? collection of curls, bangs, frizzed hair, and crimped laces. Not a damsel in the number but would gladly have extended her gracious hospitality to the Rev. Felix Amory, who was to preach a sermon in aid of "Home Helps and Missions'" at the village church upon the coming Sunday eve rang. "I'm sure," said Miss Lidia Larkspur, promptly anticipating the crisis, -'papa would be most happy to receive the gentleman!" While all the other ladies looked indignantly first at Miss Lidia then at each other, and whispered, -Bold thing!" L "Most kind of you to promise it. I p am sure," said Mr. Dibble, and so the matter was settled, not at all to the general satisfaction. And Lidia Larkspur went home, and issued orders that the parlor curtains 1 J "!_ _ 1 5 .5 _ .1 snouia oe wasnea ana ironea, ana a pound-cake of the richest nature concocted. While Kate Duer, the doctor's sister, who -was as fond of young clergymen as | Lidia herself,and would in no wise have objected to varying the monotony of her . home life with a spice of ecclesiastical noveltv, returned to her crochet-work with a"yawn and a general iiiiprcss?tn3that life was a bore. "We are to have a young lecturer from the city in the church on Sunday evening." she said to her brother when he bustled into dinner. "Eh?7' said Dr. Duer. swallowing ftis scilding soup: "are wo? By the way, Kate, there's a new case of smal]-pox . reported amonir those hands on the rail\way enbankmcnt." "Dear me!" said Kate, who was com pounding a refreshing salad in a carved wooden bowl: "I hope yon keop well vaccinated. Hugh." "Oh. there's n > trouble about that!" ssiid the doctor: the other padints in the h >sp.t;d object to such a ciise." "I should th'.nk i; wry likely," said > Rate, with a littK; mum:. Ji. *'I must try to isolate him somewhere," said Dr. Dtier thoughtfully. "In one of those stone houses by the i i "* r tr; 1 i river, pernaps. uiu .urs. v mis had the disease, I know." And then Dr. Duer tasted the salad and pronounced it lirst-rate. ^ Pitchervillc was all on the qui rive tt&t day when the double-shotted piece of tidings dev. on the tongue of popular rumor, through the town. An actual small-pox case in their midst, and a voung minister coming all the way from ISewYork to appeal to their sympathies on behalf of home missions.1' "I wonder if it is contagious!'' said old Mrs. McAdam, looking very roundeyed through her spectacles. "Contagious!" said Mrs. Emmons; "it ou^ht to hnd its wav into everv home in our village.'1 "What!" cried Mrs. McAdam; "the small-pox!'' "No; certainly not,"' said Mrs. Emmons; "the sympathetic movement in favor of home missions." v And then everyone laughed. Mrs. McAdam looked puzzled, and Mrs. Emmons drew herself up and remarked that "it was very irreverent to laugh at sacred things." ' But Miss Lidia Larkspur, whose father did not believe in vaccination, and who had a mortal horror of the disease against which the famous Jenner waged so successful a warfare, was much trouin Vir>r* mirwl "I've always had a sort of premoniI tion that I should fall a victim to the K small-pox." sighed she. "I only wish K pa would let me be vaccinated!" ||| It was on a sultry August evening, the sky full of lurid clouds, the air charged with glittering arrows of electricity, and the big drops beginning to knock at HP Miss Lidia's door?a most mysterious ||g tap, as she afterwards declared. W "Who's there?" said Miss Lidia, openf ing it sufficiently to obtain a glimpse of Ka tall pale man with pocket-handkerchief folded turbanwise around his "Excuse me." said this apparition, "but I believe I have lost my way. Might T <?cV shelter from tbp shmvpr? I am trip H young man from the hospital." Wk * "Certainly not." said Miss Lidia, clos|j ing the door abruptly in his face, with Hg a little shriek. "Good gracious! have I ||i stood face to face with the?small-pox |1L And then she ran for the servant and the camphor-bottle, and went into Mrs. Printeraps lived in the next house?a picturesque cottage, overhung with Virginia-creepers, with a little fflK plaster cast of Cupia in the garden, and EMfiiKsra8H0H5 o orrviof rr>or?r Kl 1 onil s&a * ? ?a young widow who read all the new est books and sometimes wrote gushing poems for the second-rate monthlies. Mrs. Printemps imagined herself like K the gifted and unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots, and dressed up to the part, as Kg far as nineteenth-century prejudices HE would allow her?and she was seated by the casement trying to find a rhyme Bf to snit: a most unaccommodating line of m w poetry, when the tall pale stranger aj>}>eared under her window, "for all the world,'' as Mrs. Printcrnps subsequently expressed it, "like a troubador, or David Rizzio himself."' "Excuse me, madame," he began, "but I am from the hospital,and " "My goodness mo!" ejaculated Mrs. Printenips, jumping to her feet: -'how dare you come here and tell me that to my face? Why don't they isolate you?" "Madame " said the .surprised stranger. "Go away!" said Mrs. Printemps, banging down her window and bolting it noisily. 'Betsy"?to h<;r girl?"run across the meadow to Mrs. Under!ay's and tell her that the small-pox case is i rampaging all over the country, trying J to get people to let him in. and she isn't i to open the door on any account. And ! stop at Dr. Duer's and ask him what sort of sanitary regulation he calls this j kind of thing?" "I'm afraid I'll meet him, mem!" said Betsy, genii.g behind the sideboard: "and 1 ain't been vaceinaled for seven years, and " "Nonsense!" said Mrs. IVn'.cmps. "If you go aeross 'in- pa<tsire-li--.?! yi.u'll get there full five minutes before he does. Make haste now." Kate Duer was standing in her doorway watching the storm roll grandly over the mountain-tops, when the weary and bewildered traveller opened the i or-jto fiml r>omr> Viocitntmcrlv iri I your pardon," said he rneekj ly, 4'but I think there must be something singular in my appearance. PeoI pie seem to shut their doors against me, :'nd shun me as if I had the pestilence. And I cannot find the residence of Mr. Dibble, the clergyman. Would it be asking too much if I were to request permission to rest in your porch until the storm is over? I came from the hospital. and " "Oh. I understand," said Kate quickly. "You are the small-pox patient ^T l-v rt VwwvVk o?/l rt m nrtt JLJUL JL viiwiiiaiuu. auu hiia ?W* afraid of the disease. There is a very comfortable chamber in the second story of the barn, and you shall be care| fullv nursed and token care of there, j of?" | "But you are mistaken," cried the | young man: "I am not " j "Hush!" said Kate gently. "Do not | be afraid to conhde in me. I am Dr. I Duer's sister, and know the whole story. Sit here and rest a little, and I will bring you some bread and milk until my brother comes." "I am a thousand times obliged to you. said tiic stranger, "ana tne oreaci and milk will taste delicious after my long walk. But I do not know what I leads you to think that I am a victim to varioloid. I have lost my hat in the wind, to be sure, and am compelled to wear this Syrian-looking drapery on my head, but 1 never had small-pox, ancl hope never to encounter its horrors. Kate Duer turned red first, then pale. "Then,1' said she, "if you are not the small-pox case, who are you?'' "I am Felix Amory," said the young stranger, "the chaplain of St. Lucetta's Hospital in New York. I am to preach in aid of the home mission on Sunday I next.*' ! Kate I)uer burst out laughing. "And everyone has been mistaking you for the small-pox case!" said she "Oh, Mr. Amorv. do come in. How nerngtr^tc^rBgriggrg tur. trr j you see. the minute you began to speak j of the hospital " "I dare say it was very awkward of j me," said Mr. Amory. "But it's the way I have always mentioned myself to strangers. St. Lucetta's. you know " "Yes, I know," said Kate. "But to the good folks here, there is only one hospital in the world, and that is the Piteherville Institute." Mr. Amorv enjoyed his tea, sliced peaches, and delicate "angel cake'' very much, as he sat tctc-a-tcte with Kate Duer, by the soft light of the shaded lamp, while the rain pattered without. And when the doctor came in it was easier yet. "The small-pox case?" said he. "Oh, that is safely isolated at Hope's Quarry since this morning. And doing very well. too. I am happy to say. Upon my word, Mr. Amory. 1 am sorry that you have had such a disastrous experience. *' "All's well that end's well," said the young clergyman, leaning back in his snug corner with an expression of ineffable content on his face. Miss Lidia Larkspur was quite indignant when she heard that Mr. Amory was staying at Dr. Duer's residence. "Just like Kate Duer," said she. "To mancevre to get that poor young man into her hands, after all. But if a man rushes around the country, telling everybodv that he comes from a hospital, what can he expect?" 'The most awkward thing I ever heard of in my life," said Mrs. Printcmps vindictively. But this was not Mr. Felix Amory's last visit to Pitcherville. He came in autumn when the leaves were red?and then in the frozen beauty of winter. And the last time, he asked Kate Duer "if she was willing to encounter the trials of a minister's wife?*' And Kate, after a little hesitation, said that she was willing to try. And Miss Lidia Larkspur declared that "anyone could get married if they were J as bold a Dent it as Aate L?uer. A Good Remedy. j Hostetter McGinnis met Dr. Perkins Soonovcr a few days ago on Austin avenue. -I am much obliged to you, doctor, for that tonic you gave me." said Hostetter. taking tin* learned physician warmly by the hand. "So it helped you. did it?" "Helped me? Well I should say it did. I never had anything brace me up as that tonic did." "How many bottles did you take?" "I didn't take any myself. Catch me putting such stuff down mv throat TTT1 T VII n-rt >Y III'll 1 Willit LU ^uivuiv X 1* at it in a different way."' "But I thought you said you experienced beneficial effects from it.'* "So I did. I gave the stuff to my rich uncle, who had just made his will in my favor, and now lie is no more. One bottle of your tonic knocked him cold."?Texas Siftings. Upon this story we confidently defy the united genius of the aggregate press of the East. A small boy at Quincy, in this State, went up the mountain side full of pleasure at the first fall of snow. At the summit he slipped and rolled down the hill, becoming the nucleus of : a vast snowball which hopelessly im; prisoned him. He was missed after j several hours, and the searchers got on j the track of the snowball and trailed it i to where it had leaned from a cliff to a j canyon. Looking down they could see ! it lodged in the boughs of a pine tree, i They finally got it, broke it oDen, and i found the boy inside, alive, but rather chilly. Upon this incident we rest the reputation of California for tb? season. | ?San Fr'w.isco AUa. j weati ?! ::: s Nature's Means of j;: i :t t:.e Coming if a v: t? . The wind r's -s. for li'ilinjr :t sioni'. It cries and nK?an> :si window :is ii it lamented '.iic evil it w:t< powrrlrss to prevent. It ;s a soum! wii cii :r:is im? nerves already sjd* as il?i? rhutr'c stimulus is withdrawn fr-?m "imuir. '#he low spirits we are unable to ae -ount for are often caused by the s::spt nslon of the bracing, positive electric eurr.-nt during a change of weath'-r. too sii?rh\ perhaps. for tis ;<> This sinking <>t spirits uneon clously leads .venslt ve people to regard ti:e cry of the wind as a sort of banshee warning of disaster and wreck. This Is one of J lie o'dest sup. r- j stitions in th- worid. for 1> fore the time 01 V lrgU anil 1 il'.'OlT.ii's, wn-n iu hhx-k and Etrurian an ecl.psc was the frown of an offended deity and a comet was a j fiery messen'ier of wrath, the sijih of the wind was full of unutterable ]x>rten!s.. In olden days, when window frames were not as close as ours and chimney crannies offered pipe for any tunc the wind chose to play upon it. imaginative cotters wove many a lei; nJ of demons of the air and witches shrieking discord and horror, as if The cloudy air was filled round about With howlinir fries ami wol'ul. wailinsr ulaints Old-country tradition is full of such tales, and we arc all primitive enough to feel a touch of creeping dread at the eldrich voices of the wind, forgetful that the clamor and wailing is only the wind forcing itself through a crevice too small for it. The world is full of superstitions which have arisen as naturally as the childish , dread of the wailing of the wind. But . you must be sure that these well-worn ideas have neither meaning nor worth before you throw them away. A superstition is not always a thing to be laughed at, a truth which the latest re search of science strikingly illustrates. In places on the west coast of Eng-1 land, on the calmest, quietest of days, a ) strange, hollow moan is heard from a distance at sea. although the waves lie | sleeping at one's feet. Fifty years ago the coast folk believed it the voice Of a j spirit, by the old heathen Saxon name of Bucea, which foretold tempest and j woe. You hear the voice now. ominous j as of yore, but you know that it is the noise of a storm so far off on ihe Atlantic 1 that its swell has not even readied i shrrp. Sound travels so much faster ! than currents of air that the tempest reaches the car long before the first ripple of wind touches the cheek. Sound in air travels about thirteen miles a minute; in water four times as fast, outstripping the speed of any tornado known. The shore at these places gathers the sound as in the drum of the ear, and currents striking eastward carry the roar of storms which are sweeping midoeean hundreds of leagues awav. not a blast of which may ever vex the shore. It is wonderful" what carriers of sound and motion the great empty spaces of the ocean are. Before a gale is felt in the British isles a heavy swell sets the lightship swinging at the station of the Kisli and Cockle Gat, while at Valentia the surf rises twentyfour hours before the storm reaches that projecting point. In the bay of Monterey, California, the billows come tear* ing in from the Pacific while the day is sea has sent these surges tell the shore of its work. When distant hills look clear, sailors j forbode storm. When instead of its usual haze. Blue hill, as seen from Ded Dam, invites tne eye 10 pierce its aens and woody paths in singular clearness, we know it is the last of our good weather for awhile. How is this? A great German observer says the moisture in the air washes its dust and impurities away, leaving this beautiful clearness, But this reason fails to be satisfactory. Why isn't it as clear after a rain as well as before it. when we know the woods fold their bluest mist about them, as if *r\ L-rvrt^v ^lunv VuAOCCMC 0 \ 1MT?fr?T IV/ 11 lV.il 1VVV04WU HVClii A |/^ v. AOJk the theory that the air before a storm has a refracting quality which brings distances near, like the glasses of a telescope. How does it gain this quality at one time arid not at another? Perhaps by the different arrangement of its molecules by the alteration of the electric current so that various layers of the air act like lenses in a degree. One finds the same lcnsc-likc quality in the air of Arizona plains when mirage is visible, and on the northwest prairies, when at times it is like looking through a great prism, ana tiie slopes are ouuineu wun purple and laid with roseate tinges of enchanting harmony. You have heard of the old signs and sayings about the right time of the moon for sowing seeds ana expecting rain at such a quarter, and you have laughed at the idea that the moon had anything to do with the affairs of the earth beyond giving light like a big lantern. "In tact," writes one English scientist, "the influence of the moon on the weather is as mythical as its influence over human life." Presently the same writer speaks of "the powerful agency of the moon in causing tides of ocean and of air, subject to the same tidal influences." Farther he declares that "changes cf ovo occriolofoH Ttrith nrrinnc aspects of the moon.'1 Mr. Park Harrison, one of the closest observers of modern times, after studying a mass of observations, concludes that there is a tendency in the moon to warm the earth at her first quarter and cool it at the third, slightly but perceptibly. Mr. Glaisher, the celebrated meteorologist, finds that there are more north vv*inds in one-half of the moon's period and more south winds in the other?causes quite sufficient to aiTect such susceptible things as the germs of seed. But leaving the slight additional heat given by the moon out of the question, research brings a new and serious phase of the moon's influence before us. The i moon is a radiator and reflector of the sun's heat, which pours upon her for a period fourteen times the length of our day, part of which flows into space and part comes to earth. In this period of isolation the moon receives not only heat, but a portion of that intense vital and electric force of which the sun is the center and source. At her third quartor the moon has been exposed to the uninterrupted heat of the sun for 265 ! hours, absorbing quantities of vital heat I and electricity as well. Why may not it be also reflector and radiator of this j clectric energy, which we find diffused ! throughout nature, quickening the seed I in the ground, the leaf in its sheaf, the blood within our veins, the tissues which j overlay our frame. Science detects a ! tide of nervous electric force at its fullest (-about 10 o'clock in the forenoon, and from " to 4 in the afternoon, when j human strength and life are at their best, in the hours opposite which they i are at their lowest, when the sick feel | feeblest, and when the dying find re! lease. The hours of its ebb and flow i are as well known as the tide of oeean, | and beyond a doubt such a current j exists in lower forms of organic life, j All things point to the sun as the royal I source, the moon as the dispenser and i regulator, of this magnetic life. Ad j nii'ral Vi^rov, founder "of the weather I service of Great Britain, fairest and most j exact of observers, writes in his weather ! book that all the phenomena as,Tee with I the idea of such an electric inffrienoe on the part of the moon, and farther that it explains all unreconciled facts in ! meteorology. This being true, it re | deems from absurdity the dependence of ) I mankind for centuries on the aspects of i 1 the moon for signs of weather, for times | of sowing and reaping, for weaning of I children and young animals, in short, j the most delicate operations of nature, sensitive to influences wc duly feel and distantly perceive. When all scientific men agree that, whatever the reason, certain changes of the weather and cer1 ~ f w AAr\ nr\Ar> uilll <->1 liiu ki.Li.uy^L?- w gether, we have not far to look for a code of weather signals available by land or sea. The old superstition was that the moon caused the change d weather, in which lies the mistake, jast as if we believed that the cautionary signals of the weather bureau caused storms. That the moon's changes agree with the changes of weather as witfc the. tides is a belief oh which we want 'Jtw experience of twenty thousand "StricT obserrers.?N. Y. Mail and Express. A Xovel Progressive Euchre Party# The tables were arranged in the large parlors so that there was quite a distance between the head table and the three others. The Booby table represented France, and it was covered with a handsome Parisian mat The playing cards were beautifully pictured, representing court jesters and theatrical celebrities. Here bon-bons were distributed which contained fools1 caps. The conversation was carried on entirely in French. The third table was designated Germany. The lucky couple who were at the Boobv table then traveled ? T 1 1 from ir ranee to ijermany. ijise uie i?sv i table everything used was characteristic of the country. The playing cards were quite patriotic, the Kings and Queens of the past generations being .artistically executed on them. Of course, % change of language was necessary, and those not proficient were compelled, like many pooc. tourists, to trust to luck, The table, from Berlin, was embroidered. most accurately displaying a pack of cards thrown carelessly on the table. Several gentlemen, who attempted to pick up some of them, can testify how natural they were. Next the luck}' toarr ists crossed the channel and landed in England, the second table. A huge r.,\ Mo nnrl ctrai o4it-haokftd chairs were used. The playing cards were gorgeously illustrated, representing scenes in the Indian and Egyptian campaigns. A servant was in constant attendance to carry off the numerous h's that were constantly dropped?"'Arts are trumps." "'Ave you played?11 etc., were popular queries. Here the conversation was mostly upon the departure-' of steamers for America, and many were the speculations as to which couple would make the voyage. "Home at last!'1 was heard, when the delighted travelers had crossed the Atlantic, after a farewell to old England and their disappointed opponents. America, tho prize tabl<\ situated in the back parlor, was decorated with the stars and stripes, i and the cards were a pictorial description of the discovery of America. _ ^ At last our excited tourists breathed a content The winners at this tabfe"were-" only too glad to remain, but the unfortunate losers were compelled, like the Wandering Jew, to "move on.11 The guests were bewildered and delighted, for the details of the game were perfect, and the effect most happy. As the first game at the head of the table was con^ eluded, the Swiss clock chimed in with "Cuckoo. Cuckoo," which became the victors* triumph cry during the evening. The badges were made of birch bark, upon which the. aces, deuces, trays and fours were worked in many-colored straws. The prizes were collected during a long trip abroad, and were most tasteful souvenirs.?Cincinnati Graphic. m * Progressive Japanese Belles. The ladies of Japan show not less readiness to adopt western ideas and usages than the Japanese ot tne otner sex. The belles of Yeddo order dresses from Paris: and the progress of imitation has gone so far as to make a knowledge of the fashionable dances of Europe an indispensable feature in the education of every Japanese lady who respects herself. Equestrianism has not however, ligured so far in the list of feminine accomplishments in the dominions of the Mikado: not, it seems, from any aversion on the part of the ladie.s to take pattern by their European sisters in this as in other respects, but simply because no means of mastering the art of horsewomanship as it is practiced in the West existed in the county. A riding-school is. however, now about to be opened in Yokohama, exclusively for the use of native ladies, and it promises to be largely patronized. The Japanese government is about to take a step which will have the effect of bringing the more solid branches of western education within reach of the female subjects of the Mikado. A number of vounsr women arc about to be sent to Europe to receive a thorough training in the essential branches of female education as it is understood there, with a view to their subsequent employment as . teachers in their own country when Qualified. The Latest Ornamentation Craze. You know what a craze there has been about wearing watch-cock neck- . laces, bracelets, brooches, etc? The balance cock in watches of modern make is simply a plain piece of metal, but in the old verge watches, made in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the deftest skill was brought to bear upon this portion of the movement Thev were pierced, chased and engraved, ana, being wrought by hand, each worker followed his own devices in the design, so that very rarely were two alike. They were exquisitely nmsneci, too, so there is every excuse for the popularity : of the articles of jewelry made of them. But what do you think jewelers are doing now? They arc bringingout imitations of these, roughly finished, and with none of the fineness or delicacy of 1 the originals. That is how everything ! becomes vulgarized in our degenerate times. If I possessed a necklet or bracelet 1 of real watch-cocks I should put it care- i fully away until all the cheap imitations were lost and forgotten. I actually saw j the revers of a brown walking dress i buttoned on with some of them the other i flnv'?Miss Mnrinc in London Truth. i i Mr, Thomas A. Ball, the sculptor, who 1 has recently finished a lar^e statue of ' Daniel Webster for Concord, N. H.. is ' now at work on a portrait of P. T. Barnum. The figure is in a sitting position. > It will not be put up during his lifetime, 1 but his tamiiy preier to nave tne por- < trait from life instead of waiting to have f it done from photographs. Both these ' statues are to be cast in bronze in 1 Munich. i r J - ] ONOMATOPEIA. Hott Birds and Anl^ala Oct Their Strang* and Carious Names, According to Tliclr Characteristics. We are inclined to look upon the state of the first man as one; peculiarly pleasant and devoid of care. *ays the Pittsburg Dispatch. Ik-fore Eve was made, and the consequent trouble came upon Adam, he seemingly had very little to do beyond eat, sleep, and enjoy the scenery. But a little investigation shows that he had a job laid out for him which must have taxed his ingenuity to its utmost. Genesis ii.. 19-2U, says that the animals were all passed in review before him to see what he would call them. Eve was at this time yet attached to his spinal column and could not assist at the work. She would have fnrtr rnn/?V? no iignicuuvi xao iavvi y v*j iuuvut ?< vmen are very expert at calling names usually. * Being not much acquainted with the habits of his animal compatriots, he must have had difficulty in giving them saitzble names?indeed, in giving them any names whatever. The difficulty mav be atmreciated bv anv one?even with our present knowledge of the animal kingdom?who will endeavor to recite the well-known names of our most common animals. If one will try to repeat the names of forty animals he will find it takes him four "or fire minutes. Think what a task it was to not only re peat out invent names ior an tne animais, -the birds, fishes, and reptiles; What he called them will never be ' known, because we do not know what language he spoke. We have our English names for all animals?that is, all of the more common ones. Some of them have no names with us except the Latin scientific one by which they are Known dv naturalists. Just bow objects get names is an interesting thing to trace. Among ani-. mals and plants the scientific name is easy enough to account for, because men who study the classification and arrangement into genera and species, deliberately set about naming the new object from some peculiarity, but if it should happen that some entirely new animal appeared, who would go about giving it a name by which those not laminar witu buiengu iiugui* u?u Jtr Who was it who first called our beast of burden a horse, and why was it called horse? Why not just as well ha7e said pig or cow? Nearly ever}- word has a history which explains the reasons of its existence? There are many names which bear their reason upon their faces, as blackbird, woodpecker, fly-catcher, oystercatcher, pinch-bug, tomato-worm, and a host of others. Then there are a large number whose names are easily under stood, because the words used in describing them are onomatopetic, that is, the word in its sound in a measure represents some action of the animal. Examples of such are humming-bird, bumble-bee, a name corrupted from humblebee, probably so called from its habit of storing its honey in the ground. Hootowl is another, and screech-owl. A great many animals have English names which are captured from some other language.' The word bear is l)utch. The early English took this u-nrH hnt, nrnnouneed it bera. and as it came down it became weather-beaten and changed by us into bear. Alligator is aru>th?:,word which could not stand the twist of the English tongue. When the Spaniards landed there and saw this greatest of lizards they at once recognized its place in nature and called it el lagarto, or the lizard. It can be easily seen how English sailors, hearing this term constantly, brought the words home, but not being iamiliar with Spanish, the two words were blended and ellagarto, was the result, which has since "weathered" fnto alligator, its present form. TTawL- in nlil English. was snelled hafoc, meaning havoc. A good idea is thus given of the bird's habits, just as the raven expresses greed. We say ravenous to this day. The names sometimes mislead, as in the case of our turkey. The inference here is that Turkey is the native home of the bird, when in truth it is a bird peculiarly our own. The French fell into a like error. Thev supposed it came from India, and called it "ulnde." There is a great deal of lore stored up in a single word at times. The name for the kino-fisher in ancient times was the Greek halcyon, and it is still so : called, although we have long ago learned the fallacy of its name. They , thought the sea became calm and con- ! tinued so while this bird brooded over its nest, which was supposed to float upon the water. We call calm, happy : days halcyon days, and it is poetic, even if the cokl, prosy facts do not bear out the idea. Thf* WAV o wArH ?t_Q ?nnpnr ancc is shown in our word redingote. This word was fir^t an English word, and was nothing ;nore than a gentleman's riding coat. This garment became the fashion in Paris, where they tried to pronounce it, and, after being considerably altor-u, came back to London as a garment for ladies, with the difference in spelling. The history of words is not always to be relied upon, as shown by our words turkey and pheasant. The original < pheasant came from the river Phasis, on/1 fViA n A a rtf A?il? a-iiu iuv Aauuiuu vi \jU; grouse fastened this iame to it. Those who first sr.w the leopard with ' its spotted coat attempted to account ! for it by supposing that it had a lion? ' leo?and the giraffe or cameleopard for : parents, calling the result of this most < improbable union the leo-pard. j Any one who has watched the festive < goat has remarked how sudden and un- 1 accountable are his movements. He 1 seems to have no settled idea as to just < what lie wants to do. Capra is the i f/-\r nrnof nnrl frnm this tcp 1 have caper and capricious?goat like. < This gives vigor and vividness to the < world. In view of the goat's penchant ' for circus bills, old rags, and labels of < fruit cans as articles of diet the expres- 1 sion "a capricious appetito" is .full of f force. < How well the words, "he is acting the 2 possum," signifies that.one is-.'pretend- ) mg something he does not feel! Nearly even- one has seen the 'possum simulate death on receiving a slight blow, and ] has also noticed that he keeps an eye 1 ^ auu 10 av-uut tv j jump up and run away. How full of meat is the ?Iang. "Mon- ] Key business," or "don't monkey1' with this or that. A vision of the very tricky, i unreliable, and amusing little beast is at once called up. What can excite the ] ire of a man, especially one of the i species dude, more quickly than to i speak of him as a puppy? It is full of i contempt. 1 While there is nothing more beautiful '< and more pleasant to the cultivated ear t than good, pure language, yet there is i certainly a strong temptation to use i slang phrases. They express <-o much in t such a strong manner. Slang is the t tanmKKre r>f thp fnmmnn nentilo who ? ? ?" i r? it ire only accustomed to words full of J meaning, and there are comparatively 11 / few who do not fall into the way of using some words not found in the dictionaries, and more of such expressions are drawn from the animal kingdom than is generally supposed. The dictionary is said to be dry reading, changes the subject too often, but in reality there are very few books in which more information and diversion can be drawn. We can there find, wrapped in the body of word, whole poems, bits of history, the love of the ancients, the depravity of some nations, the elevation of others, how new worlds arise and old ones die. and. best of all, we are stimulated to a study of other languages and other people by the thousand fragments of their languages found there, as the geologist rises through the pieces of mineral in his cabinet to the everlasting works which compose the universe and through this to the maker of all things. m A Sure "Winner. "In 1862?4 there were numerous places where the tenderfoot was beguiled and -robbed of h;s all. The-most noto-; rious place was the room run by Bill and Hy Ford. They didn't run anything but poker-rooms, but many a poof devil with a taste for the game was enticed in there and robbed." "How was that done?' "I will tell you. One of the hangerson around the rooms was a gambler named Jerry Lewis. Jerry was crooked throughout. He eouldn't nlav a fair game if he wanted to. He had his cappers around town gathering up the unwary. He always had his particular seat at a table, and the man who sat opposite to him was always fleeced before he got up. ' Everything apparently was on the square, but wasn't. Jerry had a winning way about him in more than one. He never went for anything but big game. He would get around a fellow, propose a quiet game of draw, take him to his room, and*the two would sit down to a table m a room by themselves. Jerry had his confederate, however, and had him stationed in -a loft immediately above the table. There was a small hole in the ceiling whore the fellow could soo the sucker's hand. Then there was an ingenious system of wires arranged by which signals could be given. "The signals were all given on the sole of Jerry's foot There was a hole in the floor as well as in the ceiling. Tftrrr- r\l o r*c\ V?ic 4r\r\+ t \ror +Vi & rvl O nvuiuyiawuwivvvvTvi ?.***/ and his pal would work the wires. They had a telegraph system. One tap would mean something/two something else, so you see that the watcher could keep Jerry informed as to what the other fellow held. It was a dead-sure thing, and Jerry made a mint of money." "How was the trick discovered? "A Texan named Sam Reid struck Denver with $40,000. He played bank heavy and won ?10,000 more. Jerry tackeled him for a game of draw, an<i Sam consented, The first night Jerry lost just enough to make the Texan think that he was the boss poker-player irt thp world. riicrht, fhpv rinifc even. The night after Jerry started in | to win the pile, but luck was against him. He couldn't hold anything. He knew it was useless to try and stack the cards, because Reid would have discovered that and there would have been a shooting-scrape. In spite of signals Jerry quit loser that night but he didn't give up. He tackled Keid. again the next night and won right along. "He had won S40,000 of the souther ner s iiiuu^v, aim was uim^iiuut to win the rest of it. He raked in a pot of $6,000, and had dealt the cards himself. Reid had only about $4,000 left. "He got a full hand on the draw, and Jerry got a full hand also, his full hand being larger than Reid's. The betting oommenoed, and Reid had every cent of his money up on the call. Before the cards were shown Reid told Jerry to hold on awhile. He drew a revolver t "I J -j. i.. * ! ana iaia u on me iauie, sua retaining hold of it, however. " 'Don't show your hand yet,' he said. 'Every cent I have in the world is on the table." I don't know which one has the best, but I do know there has been cheating done. Somebody has given my hand away. That somebody is over us. If everything is square you won't object to my shooting through the ceiling. If there is anything crooked of course you Will object. "Reid raised his pistol and cocked it. Jerry didn't say anything but grabbed Reid's arm, but it was too late. The gun went off. There was a howl anil a scampering heard, and a fall in the next room.' "There,' said Roid. \I knew you were robbing me. I didn't kill that fellow, but I wish I had. Now. you just hand back every cent of that money. If you don't I will put a hole through you big enough for a dog to crawl through.' "Jerry was game, but Eeid had the droo on him, and he was forced to give back every cent ho had won."-?Denver News. ^ ? Cupid and Soap. There is a certain self-styled man of letters in London who is more remarkable for his lofty indifference to soap :ind water than for any additions which he has made to literature. In snite, however, of his somewhat uncomely appearance, he fancies himself to be a great conqueror of the heart of woman; and he is always delighted to set abroad little rumors about lair Dem^s wnom his fascinations have charmed?rumors which are by no means agreeable to the fair beings whose names are mentioned. One young lady was very much disgusted the other evening on being asked at a dinner-table by the friend who bad taken her down if there was any truth in the rumor that she was engaged to be married to the somewhat unsavory man of letters in question. The roung lady denied the suggestion indignantly. "Then you have not accepted his hand?" her interlocutor inquired. ? 1?.II!! ,?;,l ACCCpidl I1J> ilium; >;uu inc mu> utjisively and cpigrammatically?-accept his hand! Why. I would not even shake his hand without a previous ;ourse of Turkish baths 011 his part and i subsequent course on mine."*? JVftileiall Review. Now that cotton is coming in the oil mills are busy. Nothing about cotton need be wasted. The fiber having been separated, the seeds are again "linted," ill the cotton adhering to them beinjj removed and sold to the cotton men. riien the husks are removed and used :or fuel in the furnaces on the premises. After the seed is ground, cooked and jressed, the oil being extracted, the re'use forms an oil cake, which is shipped n large quantities to Great Britain for ;ood for cattle. Last of all, the ashes lave a virtue of their own. and are sold it a high price. The oil goes to Chicago ;o make butter and lard:' in Cincinnati, vhere an illuminating oil is made from t, and to an eastern city to be made ino pure olive oil for salads. It is already aking the place of lard in cookery, jTeatly to the advantage of everybody, I jiferior grades serve as the basis for the >e?t .soaps. j How Prominent Men Read. "Do you know there is a good deal oi character shown in the way men read the papers?" said a well-known hotel i clerk to the reporter. "Of course, you don't see it, any more than an ordinary observer sees character in the way men eat: but there is, nevertheless. I have seen all the prominent men in the countrv road lh? mnors tini? and no-.iin. and not two in a thousand read alike. My attention was first called to the subject some years a<ro by Horace Greeley, who was an omnivorous reader of the papers. I have been a constant observer ever since. Horace was the queerest reader you ever saw. He would begin at the first column and read ever}' line down to the advertisements. According as he read he would crumple the paper up in his hands. When he got through, the paper would be rolled up in a ball. After he left the hotel in the morning to go down town to his office all the papers would be strewn around the floor like so many paper balls. It used to amuse the guests of the house, and was the occasion of ol - wine. Some folks said it was affectation* like GreeT icy o *>uiw wat. uui x thought so, To me it indicated an unconscious, sturdy character which looked straight ahead for results, while paying very little attention to details or circumstances. "Oh, yes; General Grant also had his peculiarities. He usually read one paper through and through. He would stop in the middle of an editorial and reflect. Grant was a slow reader, but when he put down a paper he could tell you all the news and discuss a question with great discrimination. He used to say that one paper was all he had time to* read a day. Whatever was worth reading in his estimation, was worth digesting and remembering. People who knew Grant will recollect what an exhaustive memoir Jie nan ior uetau. He could relate even' circumstance connected with any important event that occurred long before the war, He used to say he didn't remember all about the war, "but he knew more than any one else about the great events in which he had personally figured. There is no doubt whatever that General Grant's predominant characteristic displayed itself in his manner of reading, tie was slow, patient and painstaking in everything, but when he once arrived at a conclusion there was no dislodging ! him. "Lincoln never cared for the news of the day?that is, he never cared to read , it He usually had his private secretary ten mm wnat was in me papers, ne would read editorials, though, by the hour. When he stopped at the hotel he would read the editorials in cverv paper the first thing in the morning. He used to say that men's views were all he cared about. It made no difference about the details of how a thing happened. If he knew the causes of it, and the bearing it would have upon matters in general, that was all he wanted to know. "General MeClellan was just the op* posite. He cared more about the circumstances of a good story than about the result H he knew that a certain bill was passed or defeated in congress he would read all about its career, and then form his own judgment. McClellan, of course, respected the opinions of others, but he always made it a rule to be ssjlf-rellant in thoug-ht as well in action. On a certain occasion, a few years before the war, McClellan and Greeley were both staying at the hotel. They were fast friends. One evening the conversation turned upon the slaver}' question, and Mr. Greeley who was an anient admirer of Wendell Phillips, called General McClellan's attention to an attack made against his character in l-.Ji -V" V 1. Ti. ' a ieauing i>ew xurA paper, it uau . grieved Horace so that he almost shed ! tears. McClellan burst into a heart}- ^ laugh, and, turning to Mr. Greeley, I rather pointedly, asked him if he hadn't ! had experience enough to know that it 1 mattered little what any newspaper said * about a man. Horace was shocked at j such an unexpected remark, and couldn't be maae to believe that the ' general meant it ? ^ Training Servant Girls. 1 i If a majority of matrons would quali- < fy themselves "and then try to impart to 1 servants their knowledge of the various trades that are comprised ia housework, j the aggregate advantage would in a j short time be great. A girl with common sense can learn to cook all plain i food in two or three month?. It would ! certainly pay to send her to the laundry < for a few lessons. i Half a dozen lessons in "second j work," followed up by a not too oppres- < sivc supervision, will make a competent < housemaid. This tutorage will indeed j consume a considerable amount of time, < but it does not upset the family as does < the recurring and dreaded period of "changing girls." We all know of j households where seasons all follow in < quick succession, year after year. The < lady thinks she is unfortunate in her J servants, and finally concludes they are t all natural enemies to the comfort and < best interest of their emnlovers. The < kind husband sympathizes in an impa- j tient despair in the idea that all ser- y vants are worthless. j But the fact that some women have so j much worst luck with girls than others < can only be logically explained by the \ supposition that they are worse mistress- * es. "But what are we to eat while Bridget is learning?" inquires a new little wife, before whom the problem begins to loom darkly in the domestic * horizon. It is no worse to bear the J blunders of one who is improving all c the time than to be experimented upon c by a dozen strangers, none of whom are 1 competent. Ann who can doubt that ^ the father and the boys will prefer to excuse mistakes smoothed o\oy by kind c and hopeful words from the mistress to ? hear a running fire of weak complaints c month after month, from a house mother J who does nothing to better affairs?? ti. . n i i uc L otiyrcyuLKjuaii.fi. The calculating machine, invented by Professor Thomson, appears to excel, in its ingenious adaptation to a variety of j results, even Babbage's wonderful ap- ( paratus. By means of the mere friction ( of a disk, a cylinder and a ball, the machine is capable of effecting numerous j complicated calculations which occur in \ the highest application of mathematics i to physical problems, and by its aid an c unskilled person may. in a given time, { perform the work of ten expert mathe- j maticians. The machine is applicable alike to the calculating of tidal, magnetic, meteorological and other periodic t phenomena: it will solve differential ( equations of the second or even higher t orders, and through this same wonder- 5 ful arrangement of mechanical parts the ] problem of linding the free motions of ? any number of mutually attracting par- x tides, unrestricted by any of the approximale suppositions required in the treatment of the lunar and planatory ! ( theories, is done bv simply turning a ( hand 1?- * " 1 ll ? KEEP OrTOFDEBT! A Very Timely Admonition Very Forcibly Administered. (from the Sunday Sews.) A Judge in Georgia has most unexpectedly found himself thrust into prominence over all his brethren and fellow-citizens, and become the centre of the admiring and envious regard of the people of half a continent, in consennence of mnkino- lhf> simnlp remark that he never goes to sleep at-night until he has paid"every cent of obligation incurred during the day, and can lie down, knowing that he is free of debt Happy man! Wise Judge! Exceptional individual! The brief statement of his simple rule of conduct has caught the eye of paragraphers in every part of the land, and every day ??f/\ '7 iucic iiuawiiiiu tiiu cw9 unu quarter office one or more newspapers bearing i lie inevitable announcement, which we have quoted, with suitable headlines to call attention to the fact which it sets forth and to impress the lesson which it teaches. If one may judge from the interest which the statement has excited, a man who goes to bed at night without owinjf anybody a cent, affords as rare an item for a* vigilant press as the man who has never trav _i - J m - j / eieu uy ran, iiur Tasieu a urop 01 araenc spirit in his life. Of course there are other such men, besides the Georgia jurist, but people do not hear of them. They* hide in the shadow of contentment, and live at home?because they have homes to live at.. One may go on making debts and paying them, after a time, lor years together, and nobody be aware of the fact besides himself and the anxious parties of the other part. But let him once fail. I/>t the financial sun go down on the third day of grace and grief, and his shortcomingjwill be heralded to all the world next morning. In order to travel safely with a crowd goinjf down hill one must keep his feet and keep moving, however painful.and breathless the.gait may be. If be fail.he.will be trampled and sorely bruised; lor not many will slop to pick him up. His nearest friends, indeed, will-be only too happy if they are not pulled down with him, or do not stumble over him. It ia probably a rare thing to find a man who keeps wholly out of debt, at all times; who squares accounts with the world every day. If there were many it is not" likely that we should have heard of the gentleman over in Georgia so promptly and so persistently. It may be that you owe only a few thousands, or a few hundreds, or a few units of dollars, and that your assets are far in access of your liabilities. If so, blessed are you; but your position is not on the bench alongside of our Georgia exemplar. Your proper place is on the anxious seat; and donbtless voa occupy, it much of your time, in the solitude'of voar office -? or your library. If the balance is against you, of coarse, though ever so little, and the surplus assets "are not in sight, your case i> the common one. You are in debt, if you own a dollar, and owe a dollar and a diu.e only, you belong to the great majority. You ? ^ are ten cents behind, and the odds are^^^^^j that you will find it h;ird catch up. That dime ia? the-measure j| of mo<?t of your present troubles. It is bigger in. vour eves than the m and well nigh blot? out the light of the J sun. It weighs you down by itsjbsence. It feTters your hands becausSs^-. lhey connot touch it. The tiny eagle damped upon it grows and becomes a vulture to prey unon yonr vitals, while vou, a modern Prometheus, are helplessly chained to the rock of debt. The safest way is the best way. You will be richer and happier and stronger in every way for denying yourself whatever you cannot buy outright? what you have not yet earned. The borrower is servant to the lender, and it' you would be truly free?free from Dbiigation, and annoyance, and anxiety, and sometimes almost despair? borrow neither money nor goods that mncf Ho rvoi/1 4V%?* lofoi* ?? If* liiUCI/ VV ^'UIVl iVi U lllltv iUlV.1 . JLi rou are in debt, or have been in debt, roil do not need to be told what it means. If you have never been in tebt, and are not now in debt, do not ;eek to learn by experience what it means. The difference, in fewest ivords, is the difference between having your mouth under water aud having it out of water. When the tide is at your chin?when i on arc living up to your income?it is jad enough. Another inch means irowning, and another dollar ot debt means Inat final inch. It is of not much practical moment whether the waters cover your eyes only, or go >ver your head. You are in debt, are n the sea of trouble, and can never Iraw another peaceful breath until the carters subside. 'l here are other than pecuniary debts, t remains to be said, and these also hould be avoided. Meet every obligation which presses upon yon. There ire bankrupts who have a fair balance :o their credit in the bank. Be not )f these, either. Pay your debt, every lay, to your child, your wife, you. jeigbbor and your (rod. So only may ,ou lay your head 011 your pillow in Deace every night, and so. at the closng hours of your la'est day, may you re to your final rest as one who wraps ^ he di-aperv of his couch about him -??' ^ tnd lies down to pleasant dreams. Two Prisoners Shot in Jail. At six o'clock on Thursday evening sighty prisoners confined in jail ar Louisville, Kv., refused to go to their rells for the night. They were threat:ned at the point of guns, but would ~ lot go, saying thev were afraid a mob vonld come at night and take out ylelvin Butler, the supposed murderer )t McCoy, the gambler. Jailer Rubel tnd Turnkey Jacob Graef at last fired >n the prisoners. Daniel Rice, a counerfeiter, received two buckshot, and 'Skinnev" Smith one shot in the head. rhe wounds are not fatal. The prismers at once scampered to their cells. A Family of Five Frozen to Death. During the recent blizzard which )revailed in the neighborhood of Dodge Jity, Kansas, a farmer named John 2. Kimbrel, wife and three children vere at Dodge City. They started lome before the blizzard had' spent its orce, traveling in a covered wagon. Sot being heard from for some time, a . < searching party was sent out, which * bund the entire family frozen to death n the wagon. ?The only surviving ex-members of he Cabinets of ante-bellum days are jcorge Bancroft, secretary of the navy mder President Polk: Jederson Davis, :ecretary of war under President i^iAi'Aft TAffAr\l\ niM* nf *t*n JL iUilj V VI )V ai f uid Horatio Kin?r, postmaster general, mder President Buchanan. It is stated that the next graduating ;la=s of "West Point cadets, seventy;iirht in number, is the largest and lighest in efficiency which has ever jeen graduated from the institution.