The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, January 23, 1878, Image 1
'?S
ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER.
r "
BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 23, 1878. NO. 33. VOLUME XXV. Ift \
- - ?- ? '
$25,000!
I
T IX E
LARGEST 41 CHEAPEST
STOCK OF
Goods!
EVER BROUGHT TO
ADC C&IVl I IB? i
VilYbE.IV W Ibhfa k |
Twenty-five thousand dollars
worth of GOODS whioh he intends to
dixpoao of . .
At or below
NEW YORK
I
Retail Prices!
it? m Ai* UnntvAinn i
JJOI IS [III! IllltJ mr Mps.
COME AND SEE FOR YOURSELF.
CAPT. ff R. WHITE
Ib with me and would be glad to meet with his
old Frie. d? and Castomer*, and will 8A.YB
THEM SOME MONEY.
A No. 1, Wagon Yard
171 REAR OF STORE,
FREE TO ALL.
Re?pectfuHy,
T W HA17fS
Ai If i VAVlUy
MAIN STREET,
GREENVILLE, S. C.
Oct. 17, 1877.?3mo-t
J. C. Allxa.ndeu, jobsph aixkj.',
Vardky McBee.
ALEXANDER,ALLEN & McBEE,
Manufacturers of and
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
UPPER & HARNESS LEATHER,
Kip and Calf Skins,
GREENVILLE, S. C.
t3~ Highest cash price paid for Hid?t.
Sept. 26, 1877.?12m
GREENVILLE
Machine Works
IRON FOUNDRY,
Redmond, Macdonald & Co.,
PROPRIETORS.
QTEAM ENGINES, Boilers, Saw and Grtot
kj Mills, Cotton Gins, Presses, etc., promptly
repaired. We have recently added to onr establishment
an IRON FOUNDRY and are prepared
to furnish all kinds of CASTING8, equal to the
l>est furnished by any foundry in the country,
at short notice, and on reasonable terms. Caah
void for Old Iron delivered at our foundry.
Worka on River Street, rear of Gagle'i
Planing Mill.
October 3, 1877. -l*m >
THEPALMETTO COTTON GIN,
MANUFACTURED I3Y
J.M.MATTHEWS,
NIHETT-SIX, S. C.
DEALER IS
FURNITURE, Coffins, Belting and Gin
Material generally, and Agent for 8t*am
Engines, Threshers, Reapers and Mowers,
Cotton Presses, etc.
Condensers, Feeders and Seed Crusheri
attached to Gins when desired.
Repairing Carefully Done.
All communications receive prompt attention.
Purchasers should call or correspond with
him before purchasing elsewhere.
June 15, 1877.?tf
O. A. TRAYLOR,
WITH
WILLIAM MULHERIN,
dealer ix
Boots and Shoes,
HATS AKD TRUNKS,
29 3 Broad Street,
Hsilf Block below Planters' Hotel,
AUGUSTA, CA.
1)arable Boots and Shoes a Specialty.
September 19, 1877.?3m
Z. J. TThiti. E. M. Hoohts.
Fashionable Hat Emporium.
I WHITE & HUGHES,
DEALERS IX
lis, Gaps, Firs, Dints,
23TO.,
26.) KING STREET, 0PP. HASEL,
CHARLESTON, 8. C. '
te OrAtr.
'm:v< *r *. #?w
The Leap of Konshan Beg.
bt henry w. lonofellow.
Mounted on Kyrat strong and fleet,
Hiit cbeBtnnt steed with four white feet,
Roushan Beg, called Kurroglou,
Son of the road and bandit chief,
Seeking refuge ai d relief,
Up the mountain pathway flew.
Such wp b Kyrat's matchless speed
Never yet could any steed
Reach the dnet-clond in his course ;
More than maiden, more than wife,
More than gold and next to life,
Roushan the Robber loved bis horse.
In the land that lies beyond
Erizoom and Trebizond
Garden-girt his fortress stood ;
Plundered khan, or caravan
Journeying north from Koordistan
Gave him wealth and wine and food.
Seven hundred and fourscore
Men at-arm8 his livery wore,
Did his bidding night and day ;
Now through regions all unknown
He was wandering, lost, alone,
Seeking without guide his way.
Suddenly the pathway ends,
Sheer the precipice descends,
Loud the torrent roars unseen ;
Thirty feet from side to side
Yawnfi the chasm ; on air must ride
He who crosses this ravine.
Following close in his pursuit,
At the precipice's foot
Reyhan the Arab of Orfah
Halted with his hundred men,
Shouting upward from the glen,
"La il Allah! Allah-la!"
Gentlv Roushan Beg caressed
Kyrat's forehead, neck, and breast;
Kissed him upon both bis eyes ;
Sang to him in his wild way
As upon the topmost spray
8ings a bird before it flies.
14 0 my Kyrat, 0 my steed,
Bound and slender as a reed,
Carry me this danger through!
Satin housings shall be thine,
Shoes of gold, 0 Kyrat mine !
0 thou soul of Kurroglou !
"Soft thy skin as silken skein,
Soft as woman's hair thy mano,
Tender are thine eyes and true ;
All thy hoofs like ivory shine,
Polished bright. 0 life of mine,
Leap, and rescue Kurroglou !"
Kyrat, then, the strong and fleet,
^rew together his four white feet,
Paused a moment on the verge,
Measured with his eye the Bpace,
And into the air's embrace
Leaped as leaps the ocean's aurge.
As the surge o'er eilt and sand
Bears a swimmer safe to land,
Kyrat safe his rider bore ;
Rattling down the deep abyss,
Fragments of the precipice
Rolled like pebbles on a shore.
Roushan's tasselled cap of red
Trembled not upon his head ;
Careless sat he and upright;
Neither hand nor bridle shook,
Nor his head he turned to look, 4
As he galloped out of sight.
Flash of harness in the air,
8een a moment like the glare
nf a ctrnrrl elrown frnm ifM aheath !
Thus the phantom horseman passed ;
And the shadow that he cast
Leaped the cataract underneath.
Reyhan the Arab held hiB breath,
While this vision of life and death
Passed above him. " Allah-hu !"
Cried he ; ''in alLKoordiatan
Breathes there not so brave a man
As this robber Kurroglon!"
?Atlantic Monthly, j
THE FALL.
" Are those the ruins ?" asked Maude ;
Chalmers, pointing -with her riding whip.
' I can see the glimpse of gray walls
now and then through the trees."
" Yes," answered Paul Trevor ; " and
we shall have to dismount here and walk
the rest of the distance, for the avenue
to the house is now so overgrown with
underbrush as to he almost impassable."
They alighted, and arm-in-arm forced
their -way -with some difficulty toward
the house.
It was a gloomy-looking building of J
stone, erected upon a ledge of rocks,
which rose about twenty feet above the
sea. Long deserted, it had fallen into
gradual decay; the walls were green
with moss ; long, dark weeds filled the !
paths, and the crumbling fountains and j
broken statues were covered with mould. I
Far from all human habitations, sur- j
rounded by a dense wood upon the one
side, and upon the other by the sea, it
stood in solitary desolation.
Maud shuddered at the gloomy aspect
before her as she and Paul halted before
the crumbling steps.
"Oh, what a dismal place! Don't
enter, Paul. I am not superstitious, but
somehow a thrill of fear and dread creeps
over me."
" Oh, you are only depressed with
the melancholy aspect of decay, and the
solitary loneliness of the place. Shake
off your nervousness and we will explore
the interior. Nothing worse to be found |
than owls and bats, I'll warrant."
And the better to reassure her Paul
put his arm around her waist and imprinted
a ki9s upon her lips.
Gathering up her riding habit Maud
took the proffered arm of her lover, and
they descended the broken steps. The
great hall door swung open with a dismal
creak, and their footsteps echoed through
the dismantled hall. They wandered
through dusty corridors -and deserted
rooms. Here and there patches of decayed
drapery or a forgotten picture,
stained and blackened, clung to the
mouldy wall, and now and then a broken
bust or statue showed ghastly in the i
uncertain light. Owls and bate, dis- :
turbed in their nooks and corners, flew
about uneasily ; rats and mice, surprised
in their foraging expeditions, scampered i
hastily to their holes ; and huge spiders, [
suddenly deprived of their cobweb- ,
homes, crawled in all directions.
Maud looked with nervous fear into J
he dim, dusty corners, and started and |
shivered at every sudden noise.
"One flight more," said Paul, as they j
paused at the foot of the last staircase,
" and we shall have a splendid view of i
the sea to renav us for the ehostlv sights i
and sounds we "have had to endure, i
Why, darling, how palq you lo?k ! If j
you really wish, we will ?o no further." |
" No, Paul, I won't give way to my j
foolishness ; but the house seems to me :
like an immense tomb, and the moan of ;
the sea like wailing lament"
" My poor, little impressible darling. !
I did not think you were e* easily affected.
But come up to the room above
and you will get a view from the window
that will brighten your eyee and bring
the oolor back to your cheeks."
They ascended the stairs, passed
through a narrow passage, and entered
a room. It contained but one window,
which reached the floor, opening to a
balcony which overhung the rocks below.
The window was closed, and begrimed
with long-accumulated dust, and festooned
With the webs of buoy spiders.
Determined to have an unobstructed
view, Paul tugged at the cloned carh,
Tor time ** rented, hw* H
opened, -with a loud crash. A stroDg |
wind was blowing from the sea. It i
swept in at the open window with a |
great gust, and the door of the room j
slammed to with a resonant clang, j
Maud gave a little scream of affright. j
"Oh, Paul, what if the door would j
not'open again !"
" Why, how nervous you are, Maud!" !
laughed Paul. " You'll see how quickly j
it will open."
And, advancing to the door, he clasped !
the knob, and gave it a vigorous tug. !
The lock was old and rustv, and the I
* * 1 1 J 1 4.1*^
KQOD Came on 1U II IB iihuu, ie;iYiuy iuo
door, which was heavy and well preserved,
still firm in its casing.
"Nevermind, my dear," said he, as !
he saw Maud's face blanch. " If the i
door won't open we can find another |
egress. See, this balcony runs all the j
length of the house. We can walk upon J
it, and enter some open door or window.
Stay here for a moment."
" Oh, Paul, don't leave me !"
He turned, and taking her in his arms, !
kissed her pale cheek.
" Why, Maud, darling, why this excessive
fear ?"
" I cannot tell, Paul; but an unaccountable
oppression stole over me at
the sight of this gloomy old building,
and every moment I have spent in it '
has increased my agitation. It is a !
prescience of coming danger to one ?r !
both of us. "
" Pshaw, dearest; you are morbidly
affected by this dismal place. I did
wrong to bring you here. We will
hurry away from its gloomy influences."
He stepped out upon the balcony as
ha spoke, and with a cheery word turned
to reconnoitre, when immediately there
was a loud crash?the balcony, rotten
with age, had given way beneath his ;
feet, and he was hurled to the rocks
below.
* * m m
It was a strange sensation, the gradual i
awakening to consciousness, and Paul j
Trevor opened his eyes languidly, and ,
dreamily wondered at his condition. He !
was lyimg in an humble cottage ; and
fVia Violf.nnpn /lonr ho could
1/UXVUgU VUU UM*. ? ?
hear a murmur of voices. At first the ;
effort to remember bewildered him; but |
gradually his mind became clear, and? i
ah, yes!?he recollected his fall, the ;
rocks, the sea, and with a feeling of
acute pain it flashed across liim that ;
Maud was left a prisoner in that fatal :
house.
He strove to rise, but the sharp pain j
caused by the sudden movement pressed ,
a groan* of agony from his lips. He ;
sank back upon his pillow. The mental j
shock, together with the physical, so j
prostrated him that he was powerless ; i
but his brain seemed on fire. Terrible
visions of Maud alone and helple6B in !
that solitary chamber floated vividly j
before his mental sight.
He pictured to himself her terror as
she beheld his mad plunge into the sea,
her agony when the terrors of her situa- |
tion flashed across her, her frantic attempts
to open the door, her wild, ap- i
pealing gaze out at the moaning sea, her !
despair as the daylight crept slowly but
surely out of the shadowy room, the
darkness gathering like a presence ; the
deathly stillness unbroken save by the
dash of the sea or the ghostly sounds
of the house. And a more terrible
thought still crept in upon his harrowed
mind, chilling his very heart's blood.
He rose from the bed and gazed frantically
around. How long had he been
lying senseless and inanimate here? I
how long? and Maud, his beautiful be- I
trothed, was starving?lying in that
awful house!
The thought brought back strength to
his bruised limbs?his blood coursed
like fire through his veins. He would !
go to her I Dead or al#e he would bear !
her from that fatal house of haunting ;
shadows and fearful sounds. He rushed !
from the house and fled to the woods ; ,
the sunlight crept through the trees and j
fell with broad bars of 'golden light on I
the greensward; the rabbits sprang i
fi-nnL- nlarmprl lllR hftfitv I
avivoo liio tiavn) ???^
tread; the birds twittered merrily in the
leafy branches. All was life and joy.
and seemed to jeer and n. ock his woe.
Heedless of the cramping pain in his
limbs and upheld by the feverish j
strength born of intense excitement, he :
strode rapidly out; but when the dilapidated
ruins loomed still and sombre in
hie gaze he checked f^r a moment his
mad speed. A cold chill crept through !
his veius and his trembling limbs refused
to obey his will. But Maud ! Ah!
His darling 'Maud!
"I'm coming; Maud, I'm coming!" |
he shouted, rushing frantically up the
crumbling eteps.
The wind bo warm without, met him,
chill and cold, as he pushed open the
great door, and the yellow sunlight paled
as it struggled in the semi-darkness.
The dash of the sea as it broke against
the cold gray rocks smote his ear with a j
mournful sound; his own footfall echoed j
like a knell. An incnbus of dread and j
fear seemed to settle upon his heart; he j
felt stifled/and unable to advance. But, |
ah! anything rather than thiB terrible ;
suspense. He rushed hurriedly up the
stairs to the uoor of the fatal room. It !
was still closed?and all was deathly :
silent, within : with a desperate effort ue ;
pushed it open, and gave a horrified, j
fearful gaze within. Yes ; there?there, i
upon the floor, with storing eyes and i
pinched, pallid features, lay his beloved ,
?a corpse! For a moment he gazed j
horrified ; then, with a groan sank un- '
conscious to the floor.
* * * * *
"Paul?Paul!" murmured a sweet ;
voice, and a lingering kiss was imprinted ;
upon his lips. " Do you know me at ;
last, Paul ?"
Drowsily opening his eyes, he saw the I
dear face of Maud above his own, fair j
and fresh as he had last seen it before !
that fearful fall upon the rocks.
" Where am I ? What does it mean ? !
Are you indeed, my own sweet Maud, or j
only her glorified spirit?"
Maud laughed a happy little laugh, I
although tears shone like pearls in her
blue eyes.
" It is only the horrid phantom of delerium
that still vexes you, Paul. I am j
no spirit, but a liviDg, breathing reality."
And then she told him how some j
fishermen, sailing by in their little boat, |
had heard her terrified scream when he
was precipitated to the rocks ; how they
had come to their aid, and carried them
both to a little cottage near by ; how he,
bruised and bleeding, yet not dead, had
passed from unconsciousness to the
maddening tortures of brain fever.
Though subjected to a long and painfnl
illness, Paul could not fail to recover
his wonted health under Maud's ministrations.
Yet he was permanently lame. |
However, if the evident devotion of a |
bride can confer happiness on a bridegroom,
Paul, leaning upon a staff while
returning with Maud from the hymenial
altar, was the happiest of Benedicts. |
?
The old gentleman, went into the par- ;
lor the other night, at the witching hour
of 11:45, and found the room unliglited
and hiB daughter and a dear friend occupying
a tet^-a^tete in the corner by a
window. "Evangeline," the old man
Baid sternly, "thiBis scandaloUB." "Yes,
papa," she answered sweetly, "it is
candleless because times are so hard and
lights costs so much that Ferdinand and
I said we should try and get along with
the starlight." And papa turned about
in speechless amazement, and tried to
walk out of th? room tVotijrh *
I iu the wtll:
An Agreeable Guest*
Susan A. Brown writes in St. Nichc
las Magazine : T1 e longest visit tha
we read of in modern days was one whicl
Dr. Isaac Watts made at Lord Abney'
n the Isle of Wight. He went to spem
a fortuight, but they made him so happ;
that he remained a beloved and honorei
guest for forty years.
Few of us would care to make so loni
a visit as that, but it might be worth th
while for us all to trv and learn th
secret of making ourselves agreeable an
welcome guests. To have " a nice time
when visiting is delightful, but to leav
behind us a pleasant impression is wort]
a great deal more.
An agreeable guest is a title which an;
one may be proud to deserve. A greo
many people, with the best intention
and the kindest hearts, never receive il
simply because they have never con
sidered the subject, and really do no
know how to make their stay in anothe
person's home a pleasure instead of a;
inconvenience. If you are one of thes
thoughtless ones, you may be sure thai
although your friends are glad to see yo
happy, and may enjoy your visit on tha
account, your departure will be followe<
with a sigh of relief, as the family settl
down to their usual occupations, gla
that the visit is over.
A great many different qualities am
habita go to make up the character c
one whom people are always glad to see
and these last must be proved while w
are young, if we expect to wear ther
gracefully. A young person whos
presence in the house is an inconvenienc
and a weariness at fifteen, is seldom
welcome visitor in after-life.
The two most important characteristic
of a guest are tact and observation, an<
these will lead you to notice and do jue
what will give pleasure to your friend
in their different opinions and ways o
living. Apply in its best sense th
maxim : " When you are in Rome, do a
the Romans do."
Unless vou have some good reaso:
for not doing so, let your friends kno\
the day, and, if possible, the hour whe:
you expect to arrive. Surprises are ver
11 *? 11 ? fl foi
W6IJL .111 tueix UUb bUCXO mv aw
householdqin which it iB quite convenien
to have a friend drop in without warnin
for a protracted visit. If they know tha
you are coming, they will have th
pleasure of preparing for you and look
ing forward to your arrival, and you wil
not feel that you are disturbing any pr
yious arrangements which they hav
made for the day.
Let your friends know, if possible
soon after you arrive, about how Ion
you mean to stay w itlx them, as the
might not like to ask the question, an
would still find it convenient to kno<
whether your visit is to have a duratio
of three days or four weeks. Take wit!
you some work that you have alread
begun, or some book that you are reac
ing, that you may be agreeably emploj
ed when your hostess is engaged wit
her own affairs, and not be sitting abou
idle, as if waiting to be entertainec
when her time is necessarily taken u
with something else. Make her fet
that, for a small part at least of ever
day, no one needs to have any respons
bility about amusing you.
A lady who is charming as a guest an
as a hostess once said to me : I neve
take a nap in the afternoon when I ai
at home, but I do when I am visiting
because I know what a relief it br
sometimes been to me to have compan
lie down for a little while, after dinner.
Osman after Plevna.
A correspondent at Plevna telegrnphe
concerning Osman Pasha's reception b
the Russians : The Grand Duke Nichc
las rode up to Osman'a carriage, an
for some seconds the two chiefs gaze
into each other's faces without the ui
terance of a word. Then the gran
duke stretched out his hand, shook tb
hand of Osman Pasha heartily, an
said : "I compliment you on your d(
fense of Plevna. It is one of the mot
splendid military feats in history.
Osman smiled Badly; rose painfully t
his feet in spite of his wound, and sai
something which I could not hear. H
then reseated himself. The Russia
officers all cried "Bravo! bravo I" n
peatedly, and all saluted respectfully
There was not one among them who di
not gaze on the hero of Plevna with th
gravest admiration and sympathy.
Prince Charles, of Roumania, wh
hat! arrived, rode up and repeated ue
wittingly almost every word of the gran
duke, and shook hands with Osmar
Tuiir? onrfiin mad and bowed this time i
grim silence. He wore a loose bin
clorik, with no apparent mark on it t
designate bis rank, and a red fez. H
is a large, strongly-built man. Th
lower part of hia face is covered with
short, black beard without a streak c
gray, and ho has a large Roman nos
and black eyes.
"It is? grand face," exclaimed Co]
Gaillard, the French military attache
"I was almost afraid of seeing him lee
my expectation should bo diaappointed
but he more than fulfills my ideal. ]
i6 the face of a great military chieftain.
Said young 8kobeleff: "lam glad t
have seen him. Osman Ghazi lie if
and Osman the victorious he will r(
main, iu spite of his surrender."
Curious Instance of Animal Sa^acitj
A New Zealand paper vouches for th
truth of the following story: There is
<1 nn nf. Tiinnn and also a vounc nip. an
these two afford a curious example c
animal sagacity and confidence in eao
other. These two animals live at th
native pa on the opposite side of Tapi
acharuru, and the dog discovered som
happy hunting grounds on the othe
side, and informed the pig. The pip
being only two months old, informed th
dog that he could not swim across th
river, which at that spot debouches froi
the lake, but that in time he hoped t
share the adventures of his caninefrienc
The dog settled the difficulty. He wer
into the river, standing up to his nec
in the water, and croaclied down; tli
pig got on his back, clasping his nec
with the fore legs. The dog then swai
across, thus currying his chum ovei
Regularly every morning the two woul
in this way go across and forage aroun
Tapuacharuru, returning to the pa i
night, and if the doj? was ready to g
home before the pig, ho would wait ui
til his friend came own to be ferrie
over. The tmth of this story is vonche
for by several who have watched tL
movements of the pair for some weel
past.
Brigham's Amelia.
Brigham Young's favorite wifi
Amelia, has been dethroned since tl
prophet's death, and report says that si
has gone back to Peoria, 111., with tl
intention of remaining. It appears thi
Amelia was never a Mormon at all; thi
her connection with Brigham waa basf
upon a contract which included a nam
somely furnished home, carriages ar
horses, and full liberty to provide sue
home comforts as she might desir
This wife absolutely ruled Brigham, ai
j was the only wife whose unauthoriz<
| orders on storekeepers were ful
honored. She was very fond of expe:
sive attire, was entirely independent i
to the wishes or desires of the saint
j and led a gay, worldly life. It is all
; stated that when she met Brigham el
wao already nffinnced to a young me
chant of Peoria, but m'/rendered him f
"iot* Mormon.
FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
Clover.and Clover Seed.
!; For the great majority of American
" farmers the clover plant affords the
? cheapest and best means for renovating
d exhausted land. It is not now necessary
J to inquire whether clover actually ind
creases fertility or only makes it more
easily available for present crops.
8 Years hence this will be an interesting
6 question, but for a long time to come
? all that farmers need ask is how to make
the soil produce maximum crops of
' grain and grass. "Whoever does this
? ! need not fear that the large crops will
11 j not sell for enough to supply the waste
of fertility which they cause. When
7 this time comes, as it never will, no
* I skill in farming can make the business
8 profitable. In other words, the men
'? who supply the world with bread will
l" only partly earn their own, and must
make up the deficiency by exhausting ,
r their capital. The bare statement of
Q such a position caaries with it the best
6 refutation of its fallacy. Looking at
'? the condition of farming through a
a period cf twenty-five years, I find that
? i wherever good farming has been prac?
ticed there has been a decided increase
? in fertility, that larger cropB are grown
^ than ten or twenty years ago, and that
good farmers are yearly becoming less
& and less dependent on the season for*
'* profitable results. Most of this im'?
provement is due to the use of clover ;
e other influences have helped, but withQ
out clover all the manuring md nnder6
|draining that have been expended on
6 land would only suffice to maintain fera
tility, without perceptible improvement.
The best "mode of utilizing clover be?
comes therefore the central question in
agricultural improvement. Whether it
shall be ploughed under, pastured or
? mown ; whether it shall be turned under
the'year after being sown, or left to per6
feet "its seed ; whether it shall be sown
fl alone, or with some some small grain
crop; these are questions affecting vitally
Q the prosperity of the farming populav
tion. The farmers of western New York,
a having long been foremost in wheat pros'
duction, easily learned to use clover as
v its best auxiliary. Y/itli the progess of
& years they have learned experimentally
f? the best modes of using clover. Forty
>? years ago piougmng uuuei- uhjvoi wucu
e in full blossom was the standard method.
- Wheat then was the staple crop, and al11
most the only one which sold for money.
> A few cows to supply the family with
e milk and butter; hogs enough to fill
the pork barrel and pay the taxes, and
\ horses to work the farm, were almost
.? the only stock kept on some of the
y largest and most successful wheat farms,
d The manure to make the wheat crop
w was furnished almost exclusively by the
u clover ploughed under the previous seafa
son. Since the introduction of mixed
v husbandry this system has been greatly
t- changed. More stock is kept; more rer
liance is placed on manure ; artificial
h fertilizers are more largely used each
it year, .and there is comparatively little
I, summer fallowing and plowing under
p of clover.
>1 I There can be no doubt that this sys
y tem of mixed farming is more profitable,
1* not only in tbe money value of crops
sold, but vastly more so in the fertility
d of the soigl. There is greater certainty,
!r also, for the farmer. He does not have
n all his eggs in one basket, and a bad
r, season does not leave him with receipts
is ninning far behind his inevitable exy
penBes. The weather that is bad for
" one crop is favorable for others, and he
has always a reasonable certainty of
having something to sell. Of late years
shrewd farmers have learned to carry
d the system of mixed husbandry a step
y further, and add clover seed to their list
)- of available crops. Eight or ten to fifty
d or seventy-five bushels of clover seed,
d as grown on many farms every year, are
t- a valuable addition to the farm receipts
d for the year. The money thus secured
o is made quite as easily as any which the
d farmer receives, and I believe it is made
>. not only without injury but with positive
it benefit to the soij, at least to its prodnc"
tive capacity. The farmers who grow
o clover seed are the men who become
cl rich, for every year their fields become
mi
g mure xeruitj. jluc nuauo nuuu vuu u.u
n ver leaves during the beats of summer
f. furnish to the ground increases the
>t nitrogen which it holds, while the clover
d roots perform the equally beneficial
e operation of permeating the subsoil and
bringing up the unavailable fertility
o from beneath and making it available.
t. These advantages are, to some extent,
d incident to the use of clover in any way.
, But the farmer who grows clover seed
n shades and mulches his soil more pere
fectly, and secures a stronger and deeper
0 growth of root than if the plant is pase
tured or is ploughed under at any earlier
e period. There is a further and very
a important advantage in growing clover
,f seed. He who has Beed to buy sows
0 sparingly. He who grows it can afford
to sow liberally. Not less than one peck
1 per acre should be sown. After a few
years' growing of clover seed, the ground
will be filled with the seed, which will
I spring up in after years as they are
[ turned to the surface. Two years ago,
? one of my neighbors ploughed a field in
0 the fall,"after taking off a clover seed
, crop. Barley was bowh in the spring,
and a good crop, about thirty bushels
per acre, was grown. The field was then
ploughed and sown with wheat, and
though the farmer did not sow a quart
' of clover seed, he has as good a " catch "
e as any one could wish. Enough seed
a was wasted to seed the ground, and, as
d the fiel-l was only lightly cultivated in
>f the spring for barley, the seed was never
h turned up until ploughed for wheat. I
e do not advise trusting to such chance
l- seeding a.s this. Better sow the field as
o usual, and let the volunteer clover come
ir in as extra to give the soil a closer mat
and a heavier growth. The farmer who
e rows clover seed for a few years will find
e it profitable far beyond the money value
11 of thf seed which he sells.?Cor. Amero
ican Cultivator.
it Hydrophobia Successfully Treated,
k A correspondent who was in India
e some years back, when hydrophobia was
* very prevalent in that country, sends
15 us the following cases which were sucr
cessfully treated there by resident Engd
lish medical men. One was that of a
d boy who was placed under the care of
Doctor Wylie at Ahmednuggur. The
i'? patient was seated on a cane-bottomed
chair, naked ; a pan of live chard
coal was put underneath the chair, and
d all were enveloped in blankets, leaving
ie the boy's head free. Mercury was now
LB thrown over the charcoal. In a quarter
of an hour saliva poured from his mouth
and rigidity ceased. He lived, and so
did many other patients treated in the
b, same manner. The second case was
le under the care of Mr. Barnes, medical
le officer of tho charitable dispensary,
le Hooshipore. The patient was suffering
nt from violent and frequent attacks. He
at was tied on a cane-bottomed chair and
xl surrounded with blankets, leaving the
3- head free ; a vessel of boiling water was
id placed under him, and a mixture of
:h equal parts of mercury and sulphur well
e. rubbed together was placed in a broken
id piece of earthen ware over a oharcoal
}d fire, and put alongside the vessel of boilly
ing water; fifteen grains of calomel
n- were given at once, aad five grains reas
peated every hour, the mercurial vapor
s, bath being kept up till all the symptoms
m had subsided. In about fonr hours the
le man was perfectly calm, The afterr?
treatment v?ae tonics, nourishing food,
or and gargles to remove wKtrMitt. He
WRB diaoWged ctired<
A Parisian Gambler's Career.
One of the Parisian gaming notabilities,
sayB a Paris correspondent, is Albert
Wolff, a curions character in more
respects than this one. Wolff is now
one of the ohief critics of the Figaro,
that witty, flippant, all Parisian sheet,
and is considered one of the cleverest
men of the French press. His lively
articles, dashed off with a ready, trenchant,
facile pen, are eagerly read whenever
he deigns to throw them on paper,
between while, during the short intervals
when he is not engaged in some
A a noma
UCttvj gaixiu. mo uauiu uiuiwuvv.^
Wolff is a German. He came to Paris
some twenty years ago, friendless and
{jenniless, barely acquainted with any
anguagethan his own, but determined to
force his way into some position. He
thought journalistic notoriety the most;
easy of attainment, and strove for several ;
years to become a successful litterateur, j
Wolff himself says that he almost sur
rendered during this period of doubt and I
distress; but at last his struggles were j
successful, and he soon took a high pluce (
among Paris journalists, gaining a repu- j
tation for brilliancy and wit which he !
has since sustained. As soon as Wolff j
felt that his position upon the press was
secured, he manifested a taste for the
gaveties of Parisian life, which was probably
fostered during the long period of
disappointment and privations through
which he had passed. High play was
his chief vice. He soon became a frequenter
of the gambling clubs, and
passed his whole time around the green
cloth. Wolff possessed all the requisites
of a first-rate card player. He is cool,
wary, and observant; bold in gain and
prudent in loss. t Lik&many of his countrymen,
he has 'rather a mathematical
turn of mind, so he BQon completely
mastered the rules of the games in vogue
at his clubs, and applied them with
peculiar skill and daring. For a number
of years Wolff has been renowned as one
of the best card players in Paris; he was
constantly lucky, as good players generally
are, and won large sums very freouentlv.
Not very lonj? ago Wolff was
known to have won some three millions
of francs in two years, and he should
have foresworn play when he found himself
such a large gainer. Three millions
is a large fortune, even in these days of
high expense and extravagance; and in
the wildest dreams of his youth, Wolff
can never have imagined himself the
possessor of such a sum. But even this
cool, cautious German was unable to resist
tho constant, never allaying cravings
j for gain which always lead the gambler
I to his ruin. Wolff lived for several
j years in the finest style, almost gave up
! journalism, and went in for speculation
on a large seal* in stocks jind shares
The fluctuations of the market were un|
favorable to the lucky player, who lost
i at the Bourse a large portion of the sum
he had won at the ^apis vert. The cords
ran against him, too. for a while; and a
short time ago Wolff was obliged to betray
how great had beon the inroads
nnnn Vn'o fru.mhlinfl' cains. when he had to
* *" C*" ? O O-- 9 (
request a short but significant delay in
the payment of 160,000 francs, which he
j lost in one night at baccarat. Wolff
I produced the sum without any great
! difficulty, however, and haa since had a
I return of his old luck; several thousand
| of louie have come back to him, and ha
i is once more the terror of his set.
! Though he devotes his entire time to
j cards, Wolff occasionally pens Bome bril1
liant criticism or witty review; he shows
i in all his articles the possession of more
taste, thought, aud power of observation
than the other men of the Figaro can lay
any claim to, and it is certainly a pity
that he should prostitute his talents to
gambling.
She Got More Than She Wanted.
One of jthe most interesting decisions
in the records of criminal practice was
1 rendered in the Bupreme court at Colum|
bus, Ohio, a few days ago. Sarah M.
! Victor, convicted of poisoning her
! brother, Joseph Parquet, in order to ob|
tain 82,000 life insurance, was originally
i sentenced to be hanged, but as there
were symptoms of insanity the governor
I commnted her punishment to imprison'
ment for life. While she was in the
penitentiary her reason was restored,
and she refused to assent to the commu1
tation of the sentence. Having obtained
! a writ of habeas corpus, she asked the
| conrt to release her; but the bench
! ruled ihat although she was detained in
' I be penitentiary without warrant of law,
{inasmuch as she |had not consented to
i the commutation of sentence she was not
i entitled to liberty, but was an escaped
.) prisoner, after conviction, ond must
j thereforo be delivered to the sheriff and
| the original sentence be carried out. In
i a word, the prisoner, who was trying to
i crawl out of the courts through the knot
i hole of a technicality, was ordered to be
I hanged. This was more than she and
I her lawyer had bargained for. As soon
j as she was taken to the county jail, she
1 opened proceedings in error and applied
! for a reverual of the judgment and order
: which she had herself procured. The
j supreme court now rules that the comI
mon pleas was wrong in affirming that a
I prisoner must consent to a commutation
i of sentence, and decides that Mrs. Vic!
tor must be sent back to the penitentiary
j for life.
A Soldier's Zeal.
! Some grateful officers of the army of
! the Caucasus sent a letter to the MosI
cow Gazette, calling attention to the zeal
( and courage displayed by a private sol|
dier named Step kin, who, during a diffij
cult retreat, had charge of a te-. urn,
and kept a detachment of Ave bitalic ns
well supplied at the *?*riou8 halti.ig
places with tea. " Ihiring the retreat
from Little Yagna," says the lette/,
" the fourth detachment of Ardahan,
consisting only of five battalions, supported
by twelve guns, received orders
to retire before fourteen Turkish battalions
with an artillery force twico as
I strong as our own. The chief of the dej
tachment, Major General Komaroff, hav!
ing assembled the battalion commanders,
j informed them that the retreat would be
I very trying, but that he would order a
I halt from time to time, when tea would
! be made. ' Stepkin, light up the samojvar,'cried
Komaroff, and the water in
Stepkid's urn was soon brought to boiling
point." On the march, Stepkin took
charge of the "self-boiler," and, says
the letter, "protected it against the
balls of the enemy, thinking of the many
wounded whom the tea would comfort."
The Human Face a Mask.
So inscrutable may the human face
become, that frequently it is but a
mask which conceals the real character.
The men and women most famous for
heartless cruelty have often been
celebrated for their handsome faces;
writers of fiction nave not Deen unmindful
of the fact, and Faust is represented
as being a handsome man ; -while
the German fishermen sing of the sirens
who drag men's souls down to perdition
with their fatal dower of beauty
Some faces are unreadable, and <
nothing of the owner's character. The
merriest men now and then have solemn
faces, and the most serious frequently
have cheerful ones. Frequently the
mbBt heartless ooquette has all the shy
graces of a girl of sixteen, while the
heart of some woman who looks you
through with cold, steady eyes, may be
i filled with love and tenderness that you
are too blind to discover. So wo all go
on, wearing guises of different device,
i never quite concealing, n?v*r T^nllng,
fbe liffl within:
A BRILLIANT ACHIEVEMENT.
How the Russian Imperial Gn&rd Captured
a Redoubt at Corny IDobnik.?A Rain ol
Bullets and a Desperate Hand-to-Iland
Mtruffcle.
A war correspondent of the London
Daily News, writing from General
Gourko's headquarters in the Balkan
mountains, gives this vivid account of
the battle of Gorny Dubnik, one of the I
most desperately fought engagements i
and brilliant victory of the Eastern war: j
It is no wonder that the traces of the >
fight at Gorny Dubnik are still visible, [
for it was one 01 tne Diooaieui, engage- |
ments of the war. Out of three regi- i
menta 154 officers were placed horn de
combat, and of these about thirty, I
believe, were shot dead. The capture i
of the great redoubt was a rare feat of i
arms, because it was the individual en- i
terprise of the private soldiers that ac- <
complished it. It was on a foggy day i
and the dispositions of the troops having
been taken the night before, the fight 1
was opened by a brisk cannonade directed
toward the two redoubts, situated 1
on either side of the chaussee, the larger
to the westward. Three regiments of
infantry, one of them grenadiers, were j:
ordered to attack from the east, west and <
south, and about eight o'clock in the i
morning the advance began all along the j
I1UU.
The Turks poured down upon the
moving masses a terrible fire, which !
rapidly thinnf-d the ranks, caused the
lines to waver and seek shelter, but the 1
smaller redoubt was carried a short
time afterwards wita a rush. Pell-mell 1
the men piled over the low embankment;
all the Turks who did not scamper across 1
the chaussee to the large redoubt were 1
bayoneted on the spot. A Turkish
officer leaped upon the parapet and
waved his sword to attract the attention
of those who wefe in the other redoubt,
but not a man was sent out; he was shot
with a revolver by one of the officers
near, and the place ^s carried in two
minutes. All the time there was the
fearful rain of bullets that is so demoralizing.
To show a head over the parapet
of the small redoubt was to attract a
huudred balls. The fire waa incessant,
and all further advance seemed impossible.
The colonel of the regiment which
took the small redoubt, twice wounded,
at last went to the rear to have his
wounds dressed, ana otner omcers gave
up at last the attempt to bring the men
against the large redoubt?a proceeding
which would have resulted in a terrible
loss of life, and one which the men,
brave enough as individuals, refused, or
rather hesitated.to undertake. The dead
and wounded numbered many hundreds,
the only two line officers who got into j
the small redoubt were mortally wound- i
ed, and it seemed as if the attack must j
fail, for every time the men tried to go j
forward they either fell struck by a :
Turkish ball or sought cover at once !
from the fiendish hail that was thrown i
in their faces from the parapet of the !
RTeat redoubt. Now began a kind of j
fight never conceived of by the officers, :
but which the men found, naturally j
enough, was the only thing to do. They I
had been ordered by the general when j
they advanced to go into that great j
square mound of Garth that crowned the
hill and they never thought for a moment
but the order must be obeyed : they
only hesitated and delayed when they j
were told to do what every man of tkem i
felt was sheer folly.
As the day went on a few bold fellows j
8tele out from the captured earthwork, i
dodged behind first one and then another j
natural bit of cover, crept along the ,
ditch of the chaussee, and got into a lit- j
tie house which stood on the west side of
the chaussee, and still does Btand there, :
all riddled with bullets. A straw stack
near by afforded shelter for one or two
other soldiers who nad followed the example
of the first Now it became tne smart j
thing to do, in full sight of all, to jump ;
from the little redoubt into the ditch, 1
then rush into the little house or behind j
the straw stack. One soldier dared the ;
other ; the enterprising spirit of the first'
one spread like a contagion among the |
rest, and in an hour or two the little
house was so full that those who came
last all out of breath could find no cover t
there, and were obliged to go on further, |
and did go od, and threw themselves :
into the very ditch of the great redoubt
?those who reached there. Of course 1
the artillery had long ceased firing for j
fear of injuring the attacking parties, j
but the musketry kept up a continual I
rattle, which swelled and diminished as '
the little knots of men showed themselves
here and there. As late as five
o'clook in the afternoon a hurrah was
made, and a general attempt to cany ttoe
great redoubt failed again, because no j
no man would face long the fire of the
Turks. The few who got into the ditch
found it the only place where there was
perfect shelter, much to their surprise,
and beckoned and called the others to
follow them, which they did as opportu- !
! nity offered, until there was quite a i
force under the very noses of the enemy. |
The Turks could not fire on them be- I
cause to hit them they were obliged to '
stand up on the parapet, and this wa& I
certain death. Beams and stones were !
thrown over into the ditch, aDd the Rus- j
sians responded playfully with lumps !
of earth and pebbles ; but all the time j
they stayed there they were not idle, for
they diligently dug in the steep bank of I
the ditch steps by which they could j
mount to the parapet. The number of !
men increased rapidly as night ap- [
proached, and at last they with one ac- j
oord clambered up the bank, sprang upon j
the parapet and bayoneted the defenders
of the redoubt with resistless
energy.
"Who gave the signal for that assault
no one can tell, but the brave fellows j
went up like one man, and primed to the
fall with an eastern ess to revenge the I
comrades they had seen go down that
day, they fell upon the Turks and
slaughtered them like sheep. Within
the narrow enclosure of the redoubt men
fought hand to hand in one corner, and
the white flag was flaunted in another,
only to give the enemy time to assemble
fhorA fnr a desnerato charge. Bv seven
o'clock the only sound on the battle-field j
was the groaning of the wounded, a large j
part of whom lay on the ground neglect- i
ed all night long and bled away their ;
lives, many of them, because they had i
no attention. Incidents of personal j
bravery were so numerous that day that
one can almost say that it was a battle of
individuals and not of masses. The j
Russian officers, no less than the men, i
showed themselves, every one of them, J
exceptionally brave and resolute. Cases !
are numerous where officers simply threw j
away their lives because they felt it their j
duty to lead their men, instead of going !
on alongside of them. One young fellow
rode a white horse at the head of a
company that charged the great redoubt
almost up to the ditch ; but, of course,
fell dead in the saddle. The officers led
everywhere, and this accounts for the
terrible loss amoug them. The first act
of the tragedy introduced the commanders,
who directed and manoeuvred the
masses ; the second and the successful
act was managed by the men, and goes
to prove, what, indeed, needs no proof,
the supreme folly of endeavoring to
face the fire of breech-loaders with
troops en masse or in any closer formation
than a thin skirmish line, which
shall seek the natural coter of the irregularities
of the grounder make nover
for Itself witb uttch mentis M xnhlier*
*! hRnd.
Turkish Valor at Plevna*
The correspondent of a London paper J
gives a vivid account of the fierce j
bravery exhibited by the Turks at the i
fall of Plevna. He -writes: On the j
north side the new* came that Osman
Pasha was heading some 20,000 troops, i
and had already driven in the Russian j
advanced lines, Me had crossed the Vid,
and was aiming at EtropoL Thither j
dashed several of the staff. Meanwhile |
the Russians, southerly and easterly, i
closed in upon the Turkish entrench- j
menta, capturing some easily, but pay-:
ing a terrible price for others. The j
Moslems waited until the foe was within
400 yards, and then swept the lines with |
a murderous fire. The Muscovites never j
hesitated or faltered, but carried one ;
position after another by storm. En- ,
thusiasm grew into fury, and whole j
columns rushed through musketry fire '
aa if it carried no death. But the Turks j
exhibited a despairing bravery. -Again j
and again they formed in line and met
the advancing foe at the bayonet point, j
Towards afternoon the Turkish fire j
began to fall, and it was evident that |
their ammunition^was exhausted. But | (
their courage had not failed. In the i j
trenches or in the open they checked, I
more than once, the impetuous Russian {
charge, and had it not been for the Mus- [
covite guns, the battle would have i1
provod too dear for the object of the
prize. Whenever the Turks formed to ;
resist or make a stand, there was con- <
centrated the fire of the Russian guns.
Whole battalions were well nigh swept!
away. <
But at Etropol, where Ghazi Osman ]
commanded in person, the fight was demonical.
They bore down on the Bus- j
Bian positions with a fierceness and (
steadiness that nothing could withstand. ,
Cheered on by the words " Allah, Al- ^
lah!" ringing in the air, they tore
through shrapnel and musket shot until '
the ground was darkened with their
dead. They leaped into the entrenchments,
and there, hand to ^and, strug- ;
gled in a death struggle with their hated
foes. They swarmed the redoubts, and 1
sprang on the Russian gunners like so
many tigers. Their reserves came fearlessly
forward and had to pass through
u converging uro unuu mmio ju wid
ranks at every stride they marked.
Nothing dannted they rushed to the aid '
of their brethren in the front. But the <
Russians held on bravely, and fought ^
with a steadiness and an undaunted
courage that1 outlasted the lion-like i
bravery of the Osmanites. Gradually ]
the Roumanians bore down upon the
Turkish flank, and from the west the \
Russian troops swept in upon the lines.
Closer and closer the allied troops ,
hemmed in their foes, and thinner and ^
thinner grew the Turkish ranks. At ,
length, Osman, who fought as only a ,
Turk can fight, grew weary of the ]
slaughter and ordered a retreat. It was
too late. The enemy had surrounded
him, and F]evna was already in the '
hands of the Russians. With a last at- ;
tempt he stri >ve to pierce his narrowing
bonds. He fell, and with him the Moslem
hope and Moslem bravery fell, too.
The confusion became terrible. "Whole
divisions flung down their arms. The
artillery batteries ceased tliei* fire, the
infantry dashed their musketa against the
gun carriage wheels. At length a flag of
truce was visible. It was near Osraan
Pasha. Some fifty Cossacks rode /or- !
ward, and were followed by General |
Granetzky and other officers. Supported }
by two officers, Osman Pasha, handing I
his sword lo the Russian General; said : J
" To the Emperor, through you, I sur-,
rAn^Ar mv sword and mvarmv." Thus, '
after six tours' heroic fighting on both
Bides, Plevna fell, and its gallant de-1
fender and his army became prisoners of i
the allied Rosso-Roumanian troops.
Their Hiarh Nones.
He wore sheep-skin mittens, had his I
pants in his boots, and he covered his
horses with old pieces of rag carpet, and j
entered a hardware store and asked to j
look at a sheet-iron stove. He was
slu'Wn several patterns, one after the
other, but ncne seemed to exactly suit
his ideas.
"I have shown you every style of
parlor stove on sale' by any house in
Detroit," said the dealer as they stood
before this last oiae.
"Yes, I s'pose so, but none o' them !
quite fills the bill," was the dubisno !
answer. i
" Why not ? Aren't they bigenongh,
tall enough, handsome enough, or what |
is the trouble ?"
"Waal, I'll tell you," slowly replied
the would-be customer. "The old woman
she takes a story paper, and her
head is chuck full of such names as
Evangeline, Emilena, Maud, Arabella
and Riverbell. The gals they read
Shakespeare, aud they are all the while j
talking about Hamlet, Claudius, reiru- i
chio, Romeo, and so on. I'm kinder |
postin' up on astronomy myself, and I'm
all the time thinkin' about Venus, Mars, j
Saturn and Jupiter. Now, you havn't j
got a stove in the lot with a more romantic
name than 'Ajax,' and just imagine
folks like us sittin' around a stove ;
with a plug name like that!"
He thought he'd look further, and aa ;
he unhitched his team he called out:
"Whoa, now, Lady Estella?stand
around there, Othello !"?Detroit Free
Preaa.
A Dael 1st's Deathbed.
Not long ago there died at the Hotel
Dieu, Parts, Cadoudal, an odd and
quarrelsome character, whose anxiety
to fight with anybody on any pretext or
none was not more absurdly excessive
than that described in "Romeo and
Juliet." xne reaiiia ui popox UO IA/U" |
sumed in writing challenges, the thousands
upon thousands of friends he sent
to thousands of opponents, who would
be bold enough to compete ? As the
old man lay dying in the hospital a
priest was sent for to afford him the last
consolation of Ireligion. The worthy
father did not spare to tell him frankly
in what condition he was, how obnoxious
to Heaven was the desperate life he had
led, and the necessity for his prompt
and thorough repentance. When the
good priest had left him Cadoudal beckoned
feebly to a friend who was watching
by his bedside, and whispered i
hoarsely:
" Take down that priest's address.
He has used language to me that I wont
take from any man living. ?If?I?get i
?over?this?I?will?send?a?couple !
?of?friends ? to ? him ? with ? a ? !
chal
And before he could finish the sen- ;
tence the veteran duelist was dead.
The Paris Exposition Buildings.
The buildings of the coming Paris !
exhibition in 1878, are the largest yet j
conceived for the purpose. The nave of |
the main building is nearly 2,200 feet
long, the /ista, which includes the two vestibules,
is more than 2,300 feet; and |
' each of the transepts and vestibules
| more tnan 1,100 feet. The eight industrial
courts are all parallel, and are di- j
vided into two series of four each ; one
series being devoted to the productions
of France, and the other to the rest of
the exhibiting nations, in we centre ui
the garden between the two series are
two ranges of fine art galleries. On the
opposite side of the river is the Trocadero
Palace, which is to be devoted to
the history of man from the savage Btate
down to the most modern appliances of
science and art. It will afterward be
titfld m * mtmidMl nmnetim;
suing.
A bounding gallop id good
Over wide plains ;
A wild free sail is good
'Mid gales and rains;
A dashing dance is good
Broad halls along,
Clasping and whirling on
Through the gay throng.
But better than these,
When the great lakes freeze,
By the clear, sharp light
Of a starry night,
O'er the ice spinning
With a long, frea sweep,
Cutting and. ringing
Forward we keep!
On 'round and around,
With a sharp, clear sound,
To fly like a fiah in the sea !?
Ah, this ia the sport for me !
?Theodore Winthrop in St. Nicholas.
Items of Interest
Pancakes ehonld neither be blonde
nor branette, but medium.
Strictly religions people shonld be
sarefnl to select only npright pianos tor
their honses.
A Hartford, Conn., newspaper proposes
a bachelor show, the prizes to be
iwarded by ladies,
The losses of the Scotch farmers this
fear through floods and bad weather ue
estimated at $40,000,000. .
This is the season when a man who
wants to remember the poor can ait
lown and think of himself the whole day
iong.
Thirty Texas papers have died within
the last twelve months, and sixty new
Dnes sprang into existence during the
same time.
[t ia a wonder of the day?and yet a fact o'er
true,
rhat heavy banks are washed away by too *
much " falling due." #
Home Tooke being asked by Qeorgo
[II, whether he played at cards, replied,
" No, your Majesty; the fact is, I cannot
LCU a nmg uuui a auaic.
" That's wiiat I call a monkey wrench,"
The witty showman said,
When the big gorilla grabbed bis hair
And twisted hack his head.
The Philadelphia baby show broke up
in a hand-to-hand fight by the mothers
aver the prizes. The police cleared the
iiall of exhibits and spectators.
True joy is a serene and sober emotiHl;
ind they are miserably out that take
laughing for rejoicing; the seat of it is
within, and there is no oheerfolness like
the resolution of a brave mind.
"Speaking of riddles, Mr. Jones,"
mid a Chicago landlord, "can you tell
the difference between a beef-steak and
i shingle. No ? Then I'll broil you a
shingle hereafter every morning for
breakfast instead of beet-steak."
Among the attractions at the Paris
exhibition will be performances by the
Imperial Orchestra from Vienna, in the
month of July. The Viennese artists
will give several concerts during their
fo rtnight's stay in Paris.
A man in St. Louis has brought a
suit to recover $5,000 from a merchant
from whom some striped stockings were
purchased last year, which were worn
by plaintiff's child, and from the- effect
of which, it is alleged, she was poisoned
and died.
wnrren.
Come, 0 season of mist and rain,
Of damn and damps and ceaseless pain,
Of wild neuralgic writhings!
A cold and a congh. and a amahy street.
Influenza and perished feet,
These, 0 winter, are thy things !
It cannot be too often repeated thai
luxuries, iiot necessities, bring ruin.
We are ruined, not by what we really
want, but what we think we want; theretore,
never go abreast in search of your
wants?if they be real ones, they will
come home in search of you ; for he who
does not want, will soon want what he
cannot buy. .
The lawyer, perceiving that his eloquence
had put the court to sleep, stops
speaking, and the silence .naturally
awakens the judges. He continues his
argument, saying : " And now let me
return to the point that I endeavored to
make clear to your honors yesterday."
The judges stare at each other and are
perfectly convinced that they have lost
a whole night of his speeoh.
Words of Wisdom.
There is a department which suits the
figure and talents of each person. It is
always lost when we quit it to assume
that of another.
He who has not known adversity is
but half acquainted with others or himself.
Constant success shows us but
one side of the world.
We all dread a bodily paralysis and
make use of every oontrivance to avoid
it, but none of us are troubled about a
paralysis of the soul.
There is a gift that is almost a blow,
and there is a kind word that is munia
- -- Jo rto?a in fVio TTO.V nf
LLUtJiit'C y DU iiiUtU ID VLLVJ.VJ AAA VMV rr ?J V*
doing things.
A heart-memory is better that a mere
head-memory. It is better to carry
away a little of the life of God in our
souls than to be able to repeat every
word of every sermon we have heard.
He that waits for repentance waits fflr
that which cannot be had as long as it is
waited for. It is absurd for a man to
wait for that which he himself has to do.
Preserve your conscience always soft
and sensitive. If but one sin force itself
into that tender part of the soul and
dwell there, the road is paved for a
thousand iniquities.
We ars so presumptuous that we wish
to be known to all the world, even to
those who come after us, and we are so
vain that the esteem of five or six persons
immediately around us is enough to
amuse and satisfy us.
Do not be discouraged under any
circumstances. Go steadily forward ;
rather consult your own conscience than
the opinions of men,- though the last are
not to be disregarded. Be industrious,
be frugal, be honest; deal in perfect
kindness with all who come in your way,
- - -l-1 1_
exercising a neiguuurry ?uu vuugtujj
spirit in your own intercourse.
The (iermun Army.
An interesting account of the German
army has recently been published by a
French officer, who was for many years
military attache at the couft of Berlin.
The total number of trained soldiers
Germany could dispose of in time of
war, including tho troops of the laudsturm,
is estimated by the writer at rrom
3,000,000 to 3,300,000 men, of whom 1,300,000
belong to the regular army and
laudwehr. Owing to improvements
which have been made in the details of
the mobilization scheme 6)nee the war
of 1870-71, the writer calculates that in
three weeks the whole of the regular
army could be concentrated on the
French frontier, while in another three
weeks the four battalions and six divisions
of landwehr troops could be
bronght up into line, the total strength
of the invading army being thus raised
to about 900,000 men. The mobilization
of the second levy or troops coma not
be begun until the tenth week ; but bv
the end of the thirteenth week 250,000
more men mold be ndded to the field
force, ruising the strength of this lathT
to 1.150,000 leaving still 290,000 recruits
at the depots. The author finally call*
attention to the care which hns been
taken to provide the cavalry of the G?rWiny
with a MJricab'.* fireftrm;