- -J.,.-" - Viiv . ..i ?... . . .nsrt*' - r: r.-^XKM;sm BY W. A.. LEE AND HUGH AVILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY. OCTOBER 12,1871. VOLUME XIX?NO. 25. " ' , . ' ' ' ? i 1 ?. v 'Tis Five and Twenty Years. Sitting upon our co'tage stoop, liy autum maples shaded, I call the gentle visions up That time has nearly faded, The evening light oomes from the "Wesi In streams of golden glory ; So foldvour head, love, on my breast And hear my olden story. 'Tis five and twenty years, my dear, Since, hearts and hands together, We Imiiiu'IiM our hark. the oet'un < !<>? And all serene the weather, "With simple trust in Providence, We get tiie sails upon her; Mv fortune, hope and common sense, Your dowry, love and honor. For five-and-twenty years, my dear, The billows lightning skimming; One day the skies grew murk and dreai Our eyes and spirits dimming. How dark that night frowned overhead When hope foresaw no morrow, And we beside our firstling dead Drank our first cup of sorrow. 'Tis five-and-twenty years, my dear, Yet music's in our dwelling, The children's prattle that we hear About our hearthstone swelling. God bless them all, the loving band Ho glad to call you mother; Witli Ji^cii'f he!?rf Iiunil lmrwl Clinging to one another. Through five-and-twenty years, iny deal When e'er aiy arms was weary, And scarce I know the way to steer, Vour words "was ever cheery. When mid the temjK-st and tlie night, With courage sorely shrinking, Then on our w;iy God gave us iight That kept our faith from sinking. 'Tis five-and-twenty years, my dear, Wight change in our revealing; But o'er my brow?you see them here? The silver hairs are stealing. Yet let them come, while still thy breast Retains the fund emotion That nerved my arm when first we prest Ou r way out on life's ocean. liiU JUJIiOi D XlCii. The hour hand of Phillip Acre's old fashioned silver watch was pointing to the figure eight; the snug red curtains shut out the rain and darkness of the March n'ght, arid the fire snapped and cracked behind the red hot bars of the grate in a most cosjand comfortable sort of way, casting a rosy shine into the thoughtful brown eves that were tracing castles and coronets in the brightly burning coals For Philip Acre was, lor once, indulging hiiuself in the dangerous fascination of the day dream. "If I were only rich 1" he pondered to himself. 'Ah! if. Then good bye to all these musty old law books; tf(>od-bve to mended boots and turned CP f coat*, all tbc waj's and means which . turn a man's life iuto wretched bondage. Wouldn't 1 reve. in new books, delicious paintings and high stepping horses? Wouldn't I buy a set of jewels for Edith? not jutlc pearls or sickly emeralds, "but diamonds, to blaze like links of firo uj>on her royal throat! Wouldn't I ?what nonsense I'm talking, though," bo cried suddenly to himself. ''Phillip Acre, hold your tongue. I did suppose you were a fellow of more sense. Here you are, neither riial. It was precisely a week before th< day appointed for the wedding, anc the soft lights, veiled by shades o ground glass, were just lighted in Dr Wyllis' drawing room where Edit] Bat among her with roses and helio tropes, working a bit of cambric rul I i io ou? jiiug, anvi omgujg itU licibcu. ouu wu |i slender, beautiful girl, with viole eyes, a blue veined lorehead and glossy curls of that pale gold that old pain tcrs loved to portray. "I wonder if ^lortimcr Place is s< very lovely?" sho said to a sih haired lady who sat opposite. "Phi is going to take me there when we turn from our wedding tour, aunty ; says it is the sweetest place a poo t fancy oan devise, with fountains a shrubberies and delicious copses. C kIisiII wo not hi? hnnnv there! ^ She started up, with a bright, si den blush for even while the woi I were trembling on her lips, Phi r Acre eanu into the room 11 is liar some face was grave, looking a lit troubled, yet cheerful withal. M Wyllis, with an arch nod at her nei< disappeared into the perfumed pi speotive of the conservatory, leavii the lovers to themselves. "You are looking grave, Philij r said Edith, as he bent over and kiss her cheek. ' am fee'ing so, darling. I have very unpleasant disclosure to make! night -our marriage? must be poi ponod indefinitely." "Phillip, for what reason ?" "To enable mo, by diligent labor my profession, to realize sufficie means to support you, dearest, in manner satisfactory to your fathej expectations and my wishes." "But Philip. I thought?" ' You thought me heir of Thorn Mortimer's wealth ? So I was, Edit | a few hours since; but I have r linquished all claims to it now. win I accepted the bequest I was und the impression that no living heir c isted. I learned to-day that a dista cousin (a woman) is alive, althong my lawyer4ells mc, in ignorance her relationship to Thomas Alortiinc Oi course, I shall transfer the propj ty to her immediately." "But, Philip, the will has made legally yours." "Legally it has; but Edith, could reconcile it to my idea of truth ai honesty to avail myself of old Mori mer's fanciful freak, at this woman expense ? I might take the hoard*, wealth, but I never could respect m; self again, could I dream of legal defrauding the rightful heir. 2Ca dearest, 1 may lose name and weult but I would'rather die than suffer single stain on my honor as a Chri tian gentleman." "You have done right, Philip," sai Edith, with spark ling eyes. "Wewi wait, and hope on, happy in lovii one another more dearly than eve I But who is this distant relative an I i...9 ui'iicea i That's jnst what I didntstop to if quire. 1 will go again to my lawy< to ask these questions, ar.d to (lire* tliat a deed of conveyance be mat out; and then, darling?," iiis lips quivered a moment, yet 1 manfully completed the sentence? t;Then I will begin the battle ox' li over again." And Edith's loving eyes told hii what she thought of his self-abncgi tion?a sweet testimonial. ' lieu," said Dr. Wyllis polishin his eye-glasses magisterially, with crimson silk pocket-hankerchief, * didn't suppose the young fellow ha so much stamina about him?a ver honorable thing to do. Edith, I hav never felt exactly sure about Ph Acre being woitby of you befowj? Papa!" "But my mind is made up nov When is he coining again ?" ' This evening," faltered Edith, tl violet eyes softly drooping. "Tell him, Edith, that he m&y ha^ vnn nnyf. WnrJnnvdflv. iust the same I J "" ? J ) if ^ ever. And as for the law practicin why there's time enough for th; afterward. Child, don't Ktranglo n with j'our kissess?keep 'cm for Phil He looked at his daughter with ey strangely dim. "Tried, and not found wanting," 1 muttered indistinctly. * * * . * * The perfume of the orange Wo soms had died away, the glimmer i the pearls and satin were hidden velvet caskets and traveling trunk and Mr. and Mrs. Acre, old marrii people of full a month's duratio were driven along a country road, the amber of a glorious June sunst "Holloa! which way is Thorn going ?" said Philip, leaning from tl window, as the carriage turned out the main road. 1 tilkc said Edith, with bri ;ht sparkling o)*( I j "Let me have my own way, for onci I We are going to our new homo." "Are we ? ' said Philip with a chee I j grimace, "It is to be love in a cottar II suppose." I ) "Wait until 3*011 bcc, fir." Paid Ml I J Acre pursing up her little rosebud a mouth ; and Philip waited patientl "Where aro we ?" he asked in asto ' ishment, when the carriage drove 1 before a stately pillared portic "Surely this must be Mortimer plac( j "Shouldn't be surprised if it waf ( said Dr. Wyilis, emciging from t doorway. "VValk iij, my boy; con Edith Well how do you like yo new home ?" . "Our new home !" repeated Phili "I do not understand you, sir." "Why, I mean }*our little wife yc dor is the sole surviving relative I Thomas Mortimer, although she nev knew it uutil this morning. IJ 5 mother was old Mortimer's cous j and some absurd quarrel had eauset, I total cessation of intercourse betwe ' the two branches of the family. } was aware of the facts all along ; b I X wasn't sorry to avail myseit tne r 51 portunity to seo what kind of st you were made of, Phil. Acre. A now as the deed of conveyance is u made out yet, I don't suppose yo lawyer need to trouble himself abc 3 it. The heiress won't quarrel wi 1 you. I'll bo bound." Philip Acre's cheek flushed a J then grew pale with strong hidd /. emotion, as he looked at his w . standing beside him, when the sum ' turnod her bright hair to coils (_ shining gold, and thought how un p. rinf?ly tho hand of Providence h straightened tho tangled web of J Hnst.inv . "" J ^ Out of darkness came light. IIo cannot speak well ibat cam > hold his tODguc. rer A COON HUNTING ADVENTURE. lip re- Did you over catch a ' coon ? Did he you cvor hunl the ']>ossum? Perhaps t's you will answer 3'cs; if eo, you can rid appreciate the narrative of my adven>h, lure. If you answer 110?if you know nothing of hunting?then id-1 indeed, it is tune that 1 take up my ds! quill to give \-ou a little light on the lip ! subject. i(j. ****** tie The time is August, 1870; plac-o rs. central Ohio, During the afternoon L'Cj i there had been a slight shower, which j'r-' served to lay the dust and cool tho ng ; heated air. I had been promised a | coon hunt, and on this day asked my j host, the owner of the log cabin cd ; where I was' sojourning during my j summer vacation, whether to-night s a would not be a good time to try our to-j luck. st- "Well, yes. Coons been at the corn for sev'ral weeks. To-night we'll teach 'em the meanin' of the Eight at! Commandment, or my name's not nt j bill Black. Arter supper put on your a ' old duds, an' we'll go out wi' the r's dog." The night was moonlight, bo Bill said we would need neither torches as nor lanterns. We waited till lialfh, j past eight, and then, whistling to c- j liovcr, my friend's trusty dog, we :*n | made our wag across the fields into a er j thickly wooded belt of country, x- j liovcr was the best coon dog withnt | in the circuit of many miles. IIis h, ! owner had been offered a large of! sum for him. but would not think of !i*.' parting with him. The clog was a r- lean, lank specimen of the canine tribe, and was equally as trusty aud it valuable as a hunter and us a watch dog. His specialty was hunting coons I | and his sagacity had won him a repid j utation worth having. ;i- j As we leil the cabin and struck out \s j in the direction of the woods, Hover d ; exhibited his pleasure in his own y- j dumb, but expressive manner. lie ly leaped up, placing his lour paws upon y, i our breasts, and repeatedly kissed us, h, j Not as daintily as you would kiss a a | charming maiden, and his breath had s- a fishy odor, so that wo were not inconsolable when he discontinued his id embraces. ill Hill kindly patted his dog's head, ig and pointed to the woods, saying: r. "Hunt 'em out, old liove. d Rover soon disappeared from vrew, his nose close to the ground, as if he 1- had struck the trail of some animal. ;r ; Bill and I kept on the outskirts of the -t . forest waiting till Hover's bark should le i tell us that he had treed game. I Bill said that the mostof coon dogs ie j barked as soon as they scented the tiviil .'mil L-pnt. li'Li-kiiur till tliov tivfH fe j thoir game ; bat that liover was si| lent as the grave till the game was n ! safe up some tree It is easily seen x- that the latter is the better plan, as a j dog's bark give warning to the coon, g and enables it to obtain a better hia i ding nlace than it otherwise conld. 'I I Thus it could conceal itself in some d j gigantic tree from which it would be y very difficult to dislodge his coonahip, e j and which it would not pay to cut il down. The coon upon finding itself pui-sued, will seek refuge in the top of some tree, and it is policy to force v. it up a small sapling, where it stands no chance of escape. If the coon ie hides in a hollow tree lie can be driven out by smoking or by cutting the re : tree down. Uoth methods aro used ; us I and it depends upon circumstances g j whether the hunter tries the one or it ; the other, liy either method it often ie ' requires a long time to dislodge the ." j coon, and even then it sometimes escs i capes into an adjoining tree, from which it must again bo dislodged. ie While 13ill was talking, we were seated on a fallen tree near a clearing which had been turned into a corn s- j field. or} We heard a sligh.t rustle in the in ! leaves a few feet off; and the next s, instant Rover appeared, hut paying id | no attention to us, followed tho trail n, i up to the railfence which shut out in : the corn field. The dog jumped over it j the fence ai.tl snuffed for tho continas uation of tho trail. He was nonie ! plussed ; he could not find it. of In this extremily the sagacious dog proved equal to tho task. lie spang j j upon the rail fenco where the trail! is j ended. Eureka! He had it! The f." game had run along the top rail for | several rods and then gone into the ry corn field. Cover followed, running re. silonr* the. fen CP. tnti mwl i rn/orm- tli? : ' I C? - I ' V ! coon through the licld and back into re*. | the forest again. of j An interval of about ten minutes ly.! ensued, the quiet v. as broken by a: >n- succession of long, hoarse barks, ap "That's Rove! JLIe's treed a coon, ;o. sure!" i." We hastened'in the direction from, which the sounds carae, and found he the dog at the foot of a young chesiic, nut tree. Rover gave a whino ofi ur welcome as we came up, and Hill pat-1 ted him upon the head of a mark of ip. approval. Aly friend next threw of his coat and hat and commenced >n- climbing up the tree. . of "Got the dog all right ?" he called er down to me. er "Yea?go ahead I" in, The next moment a limb of the 1 a tree was violently shaken, and n coon en came tumblinghead over lieels dowu I through the air. 'Ut | I immcdfatelv released Rover, who >p- i caught the eoon by tho back of tho uffj neck and shook Uie breath out of it. nd i Yet it died nobly fighting and snarllot ing at a dreadful rate. Sometimes a ur dog gets as much as he gives in strng>ut giing with a coon?especially with an th old one?but RoVer soon had his coon laid at my feet?dead as a dt>or-nail. n(* JJill was coining down again, when ?''Jerusalem ! another, sure as X live I Look out for it!" 30^. Sure enough, another coon was ?t there ; but it did not slay long. The e\" next moment Rover had it; and then ,a. it fared the 6ame fate as its fellowbis coon. There were no more coons in the tree. Bill descend p.d nnri w? set, Rn ver off again-. We sat down and lot waited. Bill was in the midst of a tcrriblo bear (story, when Kovor's iioarso bay again reverberated through the forest "He's treed something; but that's not his coon bark," said Bill. The dog's hark led us deep into the woods. The dense foilage shut out the silvery moonlight, and all around us was durk as pitch. Wc I went plunging and stumbling over . MnoniMi Ahatnr>lnn onr? n>. lnsf, brOUi?ht up at the foot of a young sapling, in the top of which was an auitnal? what, wo knew not. I grasped the trco and shook it. the animal held on. The terrible suggestion that it was a skunk entered my brain. Another shako dislodged it. It was an opossum. Kover allowed it to run ten or twelvo feet. Then it crouched down as if dead ; but it was only "playing 'possum." JRover did not attempt to kill it, but onl}T kept guard-over it till we could come up and dispatch it. Din ing the remainder of the night we met with numerous adventures, j Game was plenty, and as Bill would put it, we enjoyed ourselves hugely. At length we decided to return. * * i ! Hill owned an oia Duncn 01 ooneo which he called a horse. Perhaps it was one oncc, but when I last saw it, the auimal was undeserving of the name. Bill and I mounted this specimen of a living skeleton, and rode home on it. What tortures I did Buffer! The animal's backbone "vvae terribly prominent, as 1 600n discovered. Yve had no saddle nor bridle, but rodo bareback, permitting the animal to find its own way home. Sore and tired?yet victorious?we retired to rest, and had barely touched our couches before sweet and balmy sleep closed our eyelids. To the city lads who sigh and complain of sleepless nights, I have two words of advice :?Try IIl'niin'G?if not in Ohio in your own State. A doctor Pillbox has naively remarked : "I will warrant a cure if you try my medicino."?American Youth.. ?? Good Manners. This is a grace of which I think American women are becoming very eareless. They are so beautiful as a race, bo accustomed to conquest, that perhaps they are getting to bclievo that Pope's lines, "Look in her face and you forget them all," applies to manners; but a beautiful woman without good manners is a (lower without fragrance. Sho is worse?she becomes a positive nuisance. presuming on her beauty and abusing one of God's groat gifts. You must look at her, bu*. you look to regrot, to disapprove, instead of being chained for life to "sweet looks married to graceful action,'' you grow to despise and hate her. In a country like ours we must expect to find a frequent coupling of ignorance with wealth, of official station with awkwardness, of high Bocial pos:tion with bad manners?combinations more rarely remarked in the older and mose settle states of the world. Kings and queens must be decently well bred and well educated. They cannot help knowing the proper way to tat a dinner, thoy cannot help observing the proprieties of drefcs and etiquette, and the people immediately above them must follow their examplo. No such necessity exists here. We may have a governor or a mayor 4 1 . _ t.. 1.1 I 1 1 wno is entirely unirammeieu uy me laws of grammar and of spelling, who uses bis.own sweet will in regard to liis knife and fork, and who is still the proper person to rcceive tho representatives of a foreign power. In our cities, how sickening it is to see tho potentiality of some vulgar rich man who can "buy the crowd" in more senses than one. IIoW mournful to note tho absence of good manners in some of our prominent literary and religious celebrities?men whom you hesitate to ask to your house, though their talents are exercising so much influence oil the world, and their names are on everybody's lips. The trouble lies in a deficiency of respect, a lack of training, an ubscnce of something to look up to. Tho best bred men in America are tho officers of the army and navy. They havo been taught to look up, to reverence authority, and to bo respectful. It never leaves them ; they become the most dignified and the most simple men in the community. When women reach a larcre crraso of the subject, and observe this great rule, that "the possession of power is better than the show of it," they will have advanced far beyond their present status. The end and aim of the weak and the uncertain is to appear strong and well posed at whatever cost. It has apparently struck some women in the society of our new country, which must he on a shifting scale, that they appear to stand well by being disagreeable?that an air of hauteur and rudeness is becoming aristocratic. It is the mistako of ignorance, and would soon be cured by a careful study of the best models in Europe.?Lippincolt'a Magazine. Good Counsel.?No young man can hope to rise in society, or perform worthily his part in life, without a fair moral character: The basis of such a character is a virtuous, fixed sense of moral obligation, sustained and invigorated by the fear and love of God. The youth who possesses such a character can be trusted Integrity, justice, benevolence, truth, are not with him words wrthout mnnninn ltn Pjinlu nrwl l?nAnto 4 l?/?* * uivuiuiig j iiv iv,vio auu nuvno tnuil sacrcd import and aims in the tenor of his life, to exemplify the virtues they express. Such a man has decision of character; he knows what is right and firm in pursuing it; he thinks and acts for kinibclf, and is not to be raado tho tool of unprincipled and time-serving politicians to do the dirty work of party. Such a man lias tho true worth of character; his life is a blessing to himself, to his family, to society and to the world ; and he is pointed out to future generations I as a proper example for tho rising youth to emulate. A Word to the Girls. Girls, take good care of your health, t Don't think because you arc perfectly ] well now you can expose yourself in \ every way, and bccause it never did t hurt you, that it never will. It is no light matter to trifle with one's health, for it is too often a blessing too littlo t , apprcciatea until lost. 1 know bow ' you feel about such things, for I was once a thoughtless girl too; and although I had a kind mother to give mo advice, which I have often wished I had taken, I thought then I knew best, and only found out my mistake * when it was too late. How often do you do as I did ? Change thick and heavy clothing for lighter, and heavy allocs for thin gaiters, to go sleighing, or to some party or singing school. Then have you not come chilled through, and risen next morning with itljo headache, swollen eyes, and a generally uncomfortable feeling? Don't do so, girls. Don't follow fashions that will make you sacrifice your health. If you do, you will bo old women at thirty, in spite of all the embellishments you can give your faces for if your health is ruined, you will have little pleasure in anything else. I onco knew a young girl who was as healthy and hearty as one usually sees, woo waiKca home irora a party c in thin shoes, through the dewey f grass. She caught a cold which set- j tied on her lungs and in a short time j carried her to her grave. She is not t the only one who has shortened her j life by her own carelessness. How many we see who are killing them- x selves by lacing. I think it is a pitiful sight to sec an unnaturally slender j waist, and eyes projecting from the head from the compression, while the , victims of their own foolishness are j unable to eat one-third as much as ? they need, for fear their misery will , be more than they can bear. No sen- j sible girl will do this, and no one ever ( would if she ctmld only know the sof- , fering she will have to endure in after * years. Take advice, then; dress so ( that you feel comfortable, no matter | how others do; and never expose yourself more than you can help, and ( you will stand a chauce of enjoying a heafthy, and happy old age.? Western l Rural. ' j Relative Rank of Cities. The cities of New York, Philadel- j phia and Brooklyn maintain - the , same relative rank as to population } that they did in 1860. There, has been considerable shifting of places, however, among those that now constitute the remainder of the twenty foremost citics of tho Union. During tho last decade St. Louis 1 has ascended the scale from the eighth 1 to the fourth. ' Chicago, in a similar proportion, ' changes from the ninth to the fifth. Baltimore, which in 18C0 was tho fourth regades to the sixth. Boston pursues the same direction, from the fifth to the seventh. Cincinnati retires a step, from the , seventh to the eight. New Orleans falls back from the sixth to the ninth. San Francisco taces a noblo forward leap, vaults from the fifteenth to the tenth. Buffalo lags behind, from the tenth to the eleventh. Washington makes a stride from 1 tho fourteenth to the twelfth. Newark, New Jersey's thriving 1 metropolis, drops, nevertheless, from tho eleventh to tho thirteenth. Louisville, twelfth in rank in 1860, is now assigned to the fourteenth. Cleveland, four stcpa forward, mounts from the nineteenth to the j fifteenth. Pittsburg alone retains tho same relative rank now as then, tho sixteenth. Jersey city rifcs from tho twentieth to the importaneo of seventeenth. Detroit recedes from the seventeenth to the eighteenth. Milwaukee from tho eighteenth to tho nineteenth. Albany, which was, ten years ago, ] the thirteenth, now takes the old I nliico of Jersev City as tho twentieth. J I - - - V Table Etiquette. The following rules for table etiquette will probably be observed as closely as any that could be given : 1 1. Do not commence eating before 1 3'our host get? through with his grace. 1 I have known some men to bite a bis- < cuit as large as a blacking-box into a ; half moon, and to hiive to hold it bo- J tween their teeth, undor a suspension I of the rules, during a blessing. This i is disgraceful. I 2. I)o not- sup soup with a fork. ^ Your soup will always have 3*ou at a t disadvantage with such odds. Be- i bides, it is "snperflons." 1 3. In passing your plato to be rehelped, retain your kuife and fork in < I your vest pocket. 4. When asked for a dish, do not ] propelit across the surface of the ta- i hie after the mannororgamo ofshovel- j board ; always pitch it gracefully, at- t tor the manner of quoits. This will 1 be "quoit" sufficient. < 5. Never try to eat fish with a salt- J cellar. i 6. Whilo drinking, be careful not to i empty hot coffoe, or anything of that ? sort into your neighbor's paper collar. J 7. Do not eat too fast. You will not "get left," if you make up in he- i roic doses for fast time. < 8. If you find anything suspicious ] in your hash, don't eat any- more i hash ; and if there is anything wrong < j with your butter propose a toast or i tell an anecdote. * j 9. When you burn your mouth with i 1 a cold potato, don't whistle or make < j faces at the company but shed tears I in 8iien<;u. 10. Nevor leave the table without asking the lady of the houso to bo ex* cused ; but if you happon to bo at a barbecuo or a frco lunch, don't leave : as Ion# as there is a bono or a crumb i in sight. If you will studiously obsefve these t! ittle rules, and don't appropriate your e< able napkin under the contemptible o jrctense that yon thought it was your R >ocket handkerchief you will succeed tl idmiiably. w ^" ai The Power of Love. / J An English writer relates the fol- r< owing manner in which the quiet \ rtXfi lof f 1 AtTft ft aViiI/1 ?(*An il> .. ^ JC1O10CGUU 1VVO \JA U UUUU WUO LUU IB- |* lemption of a drunken father: jj "That night I was out late ; I re. urned by thG Lee cabin about 11 >'clock. As I approached, I saw a ^ trange-looking ouject cowering un- ! ier the low caves. A cold rain was 81 ailing; it was autumn. I drew j* icar, and there was Millie wet to the ^ kin. Her father bad driven her out , tome hours before; 3he had laid down o listen for the heavy snoring of his Irunken slumbers, so that she might ireep back to bed. Before she heard . t nature seemed exhausted, and she ell into a troubled sleep, with rain Irops pattering upon her. I tried to ako her home with mo; but no, true is a martyr to faith, she struggled J rom me, and returned to the dark md silent cabin, Things went on , hue for weeks and months, but at jr ength Lee gtew less violent, even in , lis drunken fits, to his self-denying tj :hild; and one day when he awoke a i*om slumber after a debauch, and ound her preparing breakfast for ^ )im, and singing a childish song, he ^ orned to her, and, with a tone almost .cnder, said: jr " 'Millie, what makes you stay with ne?' ti " 'Because you are ray father, and I e| ove you," v "'You love ma,' repeated the wretched man; 'you love me!' Do ooked at his bloated limbs, his soiled j ind ragged clothes. 'Love me,' ho nurmured: 'Mil.ie, what makes you ove me! I am a poor drunkard; t( jvery body deepwcB me j why don't fOU?' I " 'Dear father,' said the girl with swimming eyes; 'my mother has ianght me to love you, and every ^ sight she comes from heaven and ^ itands by my bed, and says: Millie, ion't leave your father, he will get t iway from that rum fiend some of kVtnoa /lava onrl 4Kan Katw knr?r?tr ttah _ ?uvpv vimj oj uuu vuvii Aivn Ui4,lv j vu n will be."' c And he did get away from the rum 5end. The unfaltering affection of tiis child, strengthened by the dying ^ words of her mother, saved him. and ? restored him again his manhood. a ? d A New Collection of Epitaphs. The following epitaphs, having been prepared expressly for the Bos- <, ton Commercial Bulletin, that journal j. cautions all persons using them with- . Dut obtaining consent: | Epitaph for a liar? c In life, he lied while he had breath: t And, strange to say, lies stiU in death. c For an angler?Waiting for a rise. ? For a baker?He kneads no more c an earth. c For a betting man?"Better off." f For a brewer? t A well-known brewer lieth here. * His ails are o'er?he's "on his bier." 1 g For a waiter?"Only waiting." For a doctor?waiting with patients. For a beggar?I asked for bread, and they gave me a atone. " ^ For a bootblack?With the shining ^ anes. For a potter? J On earth he oft turned clay to delf \ But now lie's turned to clay himself. r For ii raeor grindor? Under ground, J For a dressmaker?"For the fash- \ ion of this world passelh way." f For a musical director? 1 In beating time his life wa9 passed, ' But time has beaten him at last. 6 For a sailor?Anchored. For an auctioneer?Gone. ' For a watchmaker?Stopped. J" For a barber?Sent a-beau. r For a wheelwright?Tired of life. , For a telegrapher?Dispatched. For a scale maker? , His weighs are ways of pleasantness, e In all life's fitful dream, t Ele struck a balance with the world, And then?he kicked the beam. Overwork. . s t< Alexander T. Stewart, of New York, o jas just suffered a physical prostra- t< ,ion, Irom which it will take him bqiuo u ;ime to recover. Air. Stewart is yet ti joroparatively young. But for many f< fears. and especially of-late years, he b las been intensely devoting his men- ti al and phj'sical powers to his im- ti 1 -A 1 J- Ll? _ nense Business, ana, ut iuhl, uijuuiu iu g aear the persistent strain, his system v jave way and he lies helpless, and t! juch a wreck that his physicians can- r, lot give an assurance that his health b tvill be re established. k Wo published yesterday an account n jf the doparturo for Europe of Mr. I John F. Tracey, so long known to the a jublix; from his connection with rail- p oad affairs. He, too, has been sub- 1 ectcd to such a mental and bodily w strain for the last six years that, tho p wonder is that ho has not broken o iown long ago. He goes to Europe, d iccompanied by a physician, and it is 1< jncertain, so greatly is ho prostrated a in mind and body, whether he will s jver resume his active laderahip in n railroad affairs again. k Thero are other men engaged in b railroads, in banking, in all branches of commerce, and in all the learned professions, who are also hastening to g a like sudden, and, perhaps, more fi overwhelming termination. Every h ilnv wii read of men. seeminclv in h good health, suddenly falling in^lealb, " or perishing by protracted paralysis, ii or rapidiy falling into montal'decay. s So numerous have been such cases of n late years that poople have wondered a that "heart disease," to which the^e g things are attributed, had become.so h universal. But the truth is that men c in these days never know when to f< stop. The richer they grow the more a earnestly they labor; the desire and p birst for profit, the excitements of. orapetition, the intensitiy of the spirit f speculation which pervades every ralk of life; these things all hasten ao mind and body to that point fhere tho strength of nature fails, , nd the man, if ho does not die in;antly, lingers along with paralyzed mbs and weakened intellect for the , jinainder ot his life. < ! All men have more or less of the , ires and anxieties peculiar to human fe. That there is a skeleton in every ousehold is proverbial; and nojpon in long survive a struggle with* naire who, in addition to the ordinary ires of life, assumes a load of respon- , bility beyond all mortal strength, and ith overburdened brain and fevered , ody, ventures to battle through the j orld. There is a limit to the power f giants. The burdens which a man tay carry when taken separately and ] b intervals, and be but tho stronger >r the labor, if all pressed upon' the rain at once, must produce exhauson of body and mind. Wo are all -I orking too fast. Weareall laboring 3 if the affairs of mankind must be 1 [ ranged before we die; wo are all >iling as if for tho purpose of leaving i othing for any one to do after we i ave gone. There are men now liv- ' ig who so labor by night and day lat it is reasonable to assume that jey expect in their time to lay every 1 lile of railroad that will ever be needi on tho'continent of America. And je same spirit is to be found in every ralk of life. We are destroying our ;ives, mat posterity may nave noinlg to trouble themselves with. This unnatural process of destine-, ion, of course, carries off those soonst whose services te society are mtst aluable. But the great mistako is in opposing that the men who follow us annot get along as well if wo leave omething for them to do. "Wo make nother mistake' in supposing that ny one of us is absolutely essential 3 the world's prosperity, or that the rorld will miss us a week after ' > wo ave gone. It is madness, thereforej )r men to tax themselves mentally nd physically, to break down their odily strength and mental vigor uner the delusion that we are fulfilling mission or accomplishing anything hat would not have been as well ac: omplished if wo had never existed. ?here are but few men engaged in ommercial and professional dutios irho, under the insane velocity of tho iTPfiflnt. rhiv nrft nnf owppfitnor fho iroper limits of labor, and who arc lot thereby inducing pre mature decay, ,nd inviting certain, if not sudden; leath in the very hour of their work. ?Chicago Tribune. Cows Holding up there Milk.? J. B. Hartshorn, West Cheshire, Ct., ias a cow that holds up her milk, apmrently without cause. . He wants a emedy. "Wo have been led to the lonclusion that it is due to some irri,ating circumstance that has brought >n the fit of the sulks, if we might be illowed to use such ar. expression in sonnection with a cow. We have >ften noticed a curious sidelong glance ;iven by the cow when endeavoring o bring her to reason arid to her milk vhich has conveyed to us' the idea hat the beast was spiteful about omething." Our plan has therefore >een to have patience, to manipulate ind gently rub the udder, and avoid tny thing that would further irritate he animal; to avoid giving any little lainty, or even to bo led out of our egular course of feeding, lest a habit night be confirmed. This treatment ia8 generally resulted fn bringing'the nilk, though it has sometimes failed. tfany plans have been suggested by vbich to overcome this. trick, or a trick we believe # it to bo. Pressure over tho loins between the ast rib and tho hip bones is one ; a mart and sudden stroke of a whip vbich would change tho current of the mimal's ideas is an other; giving ome enticing article of food to effect he same purpose is another; if a resh cow, letting tho calf suck?all laving tho samo end in viow, namely, o cause to forgot all about her milk ; ?ut wo have not found any of them ffectual but tho third mentioned, and hat we were averse to encouraging. -Hearth and Home. ? Coolness and Courage.? Hot long ince a Swiss shepherd boy, only foureen years of age, was tending a flock f sheep among tho hills in tho Canon Grisons, when a bear mado a raid pon the flock and seized two of the nest sheep. The courageous little '' - j1 A ?J 4- ? /}a l\Anii aA-' iilOW aiEempieu ',u un? v iiiu tsuai v/n y beating him with a stick, but bruin urned. upon him, and he was forced j run for his life. Tho bear was" aining rapidly upon him, and there ras seemingly no escape, suddenly he lad bethought himself of a narrow nvine, three hundred foet deep, close y, across which he thought he could iap, while he hoped tho bear would ot notice it, and fall to the bottom. )ashing on, half wild with oxcitcmcnt nd dread, he reached the edge of tho recipice, the boar close at his heels, 'ho chasm was upward of six foet ride, but the lad cleared it by a deserate bound and landed safely on the pposite side. The bear, as he hoped, id not see tho ravluo, and foil heading to tho bottom, where, bruised' nd bleeding, and nnable to rise, the hepherd lad found him, and, having o weapon with Iiim, succcedcd in tiling the animal by dashing out his rains with heavy stones. V Aaf. hlfinlr.Qmit.h \rnft nnr>o XX li UUUVWM * ? rossly insulted and his character inimously defamed. Friends advised im to seek redress by means of the iw, but to one and all he replied. Xo ; I will go to my forge, and there i six months 1 shall'have worked out uch a character and earned such a arao as all the judges, law courts, nd lawyers in the world could never ive me." Ho was right. It is by onest labor, industrious toil, manly oarage and a conscience void of oi- j 3nce that we assert our true dignity, I nd prove our truth, honesty and rcalectabilty. SCRAPS. g, '..T -T f r'; " > Memphis is to have a building aslsp ciation. ... A great revival is in progress at Chattanooga. , The dead to the bier and the living to good' cheer, , Ho that bites on every weed needs light on poison. . T Ilighway robbers are operating in the vicinity of lvnoxville. ,, Tho Memphis Fair begins October 17th; the premiums amount, to $10,ooo. ' jw The stream of life forks-; ;and''religion is ?.j>tto run -in ono channel ami business in another." Sii Female orchestras are^iro be Employed in some of the Now';iYoTk theatres this fiQiVbon," ' Rev. W. IL Milburn, the, ..blind preacher, has. w-ithdrawn from tthe Episcopal Church and re-united wiiL Lho Methodists. .' > M'me Carolino Richings-Bernard. ia announced to travel for three months under the management of Mr. Johp. I\ Ford. ' Tho Russian army makes , out tfe get along with 1,100 generals," )an4?> Bnrinklinff of erand' duke'a and field l (J a ? marshals. The personal property of.','Giles Lodcr, a Russian merchant who^dieft recently in London, was valued at $15,000,000. . W The New York Herald jMs an account of 4'a gathering of generals nt Hell Gale." No news could be mcwo gratifying to^thc friends of Civifization. ? *1 ilti vj aUi / The Labpr 'JSeforrh' .Convention, among the delegates to which there are fifteenwomen, met at Farming' ham, Mass., and nominated E^JML Chamberlin for Governor. . ' Tho Prohibitory State Convention in Boston have nominated Jtfftgc J*ittnmn for Governor. Dr. Chas.P. Wood, of Manches^', ter. N. H., has been convict^ jDtf causing tho deatk of Elvira "Woodward by abortion, and wntence^ to twelve years in the Stato prison;. Orange, N. J.,--is excited over- o? elopement in which a noted orgai>HS;t, instead of playing fugues, 4s playii*g fugitive with the entire family of a rich merchant. " James E. Freeman, the Arppijican artist, bo long a resident of/Heme, after .becoming totally ,blind.'^om cataract, has been restored, to'.aijjjjt by a German oculist. -1 Cj'xib. . A Washington lady has bequeathed to the Smithsonian Institute % punch strainer, made from : a sftver dollar, earned by Ben. Franklin when a printer boy in Boston.-, i' ^ ? ?> It is announced from St! Petersburg that Eussia is about" calling rin 'all the officers and men of her .army who are on furlough; in" order to tr the. efficiency, of mobilization. . A wise commentator says tbftiOthe reason why the Jews falways. used nets to catch their fish was becaupo Moses expressly stated to them that, l-wiPnvn llir>v ovi\ss(>d thft Jordan. thev could-not-have Moa-bites. '^ The sale of the personal propeAy of Alexander Dumas amounted-1 to 15,000 francs. It includes pictures, statueits, and other works "of art. Alexander Dflmas, Jn,- purchased nearly all of these relics of hig'&ther. Gotham belled are made perfectly happy by earrings consisting of a wide hoop of burnished gold enclosing the head of a humming bird with diamond eyes. Thereby they show the taste of Digger Indian squaws. s Tho testimony of Marshall MaeMahon before the committee of investigation into tho conduct of tho war has burst one bubble. ?|Tbis disaster of Sedan was denounced by the ?aoti-Bonapartists as due to the imbecility of tho Emperor. . -: