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_____ ^ ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER. I BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 17, 1878. NO. 6. VOLUME XXVI. | ... .;i': ? ? - -?* ? - - v ? -fUrr^wmM ~ = : , T j 7 yM Tbanatopsls. WILLIAM CULLEX BBYAST'S GREATEST POEM. To him who in the love of nature' holds Communion with her visibfe forms, she speaks A various language : for his fenyer hours She has & voice of gl >dness. and a smile And eloquence of beauty, ai>d i-he glides Into his darker muEings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stem agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart; Go forth, unto the Oft; n sky, and list To nature's teachings, while from all around? 'Earth and her waters, and the depths of air? Comes a still voice?Yet a few days, and thee The ail beholding sun shall see no more In all his cour*&~ nor yet in the cold gronnd, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, And lost each human trace, surrendering np Thine individual being, shalt thou go I V* irii U f ho atnmnnfu XV tUiA AVX 9IU nuu MiW VAVAMWMWwy To be a brother to the insensible rock And to the sluggish c!c*\ which the rude swain Ttob with his share, and treads upon. The j oak Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy | mold. Yet not to thine eternal renting place Shalt thou retire alone, nor oonld'st thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world?with kings, The powerful of the earth?the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seere of ages past, AH in one mighty sepulchre. The hills Bock ribbed and ancient as the sun?the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods?rivers that move T** moUtifw and jv>mnl*unincr brooks That make the meadows green ; and, poured I round all, Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste? Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death r Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread ; g The globe are but a handful to the tribes | That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Bar can desert pierce, ? ? ?Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Sato his own dashings?yet?the dead are there; And millions in those solitudes, sinoe first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep?the dead reign there alone. So shalt thou rest, and what if thou shalt fall Unnoticed by the living, and no friend - Take note of thy departure? All all that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their enjoyments, and shall come And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages glides away, the sons of men. The youth in life's greon spring, and he who ; goes In the full strength of years?matron, and i maid, And the sweet babe, and the gray-headed ' manShall one by one !>e gathered to thy side, By those, who in their turn Bhall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join .The innumerable caravan, which moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall ! take HiB chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. Not the Pretty Miss Purdy. " It's inconceivable to me, mamma," j said Miss Blanche, "how any woman -with spirit can make such an exhibition of herself; but the fact is, Lily never had a particle of spirit. Even a worm will tarn sometimes when it's trod upon, but I believe any one could trample the vitals out of Lily and she'd never murmur. The worst of it is, she spoils my plans, and it's too bad, when she hasn't the shadow of a chance herself, that she will persist in acting the part of a dog in the manger. I should think, considering the self-sacrificing and uncomfortable rote she's ohosen for herself, the fact I of securing her idol in the family would | hold some charm for her; but the ridiculous display she makes of her unrequited affection is gradually bringing to ruin all our available prospects." Miss Blanche tossed the egg-shells from her fingers, and looked about her in disdain upon the comfortless breakfast-room and its appurtenances. The house which the Purdys occupied had boen rather an imposing one some years since, but the burden of unpaid taxes and assessments had broken its once high spirit, and its ohief and only charm I now lay .in the parlor floor. Poor Mr. ' Purdy had long since given up all idea I of redeeming the place from its legal ! bondage; and indeed, as the mortgage was long overdue, it began to be apparent to even his hopefpl nature that the property was slipping out of his hold. He consoled himself with the prospect of a legal squabble with the mortgage, and as Mr. Purdy was a lawyer himself, and he held one of the town offices, he thought his chances were good for another year. In the" mean time, perhaps, something would torn up; and unconsciously his thoughts reverted to *he extraordinary charms of his eldest daughter Blanohe. He was scarcely to be blamed for this, as a great many thoughts ran in the same -happy direction. So alluring were these charms, 80 blue were her eyes, so golden her hair, so perfect her lips and the pearls within, so vivid her color, so lithe and graceful her form, so shapely her feet and hands, she was known far and near ? " " - U- T> ?? mu 188 "VBB pretty iumo X <uuj. iuru out) could talk so well, and could smile so archly, and blush so readily, and dance, and row, and swim, and skate, and sing, and play, and so divinely f What they oonld have done without her at the church fairs, where she always reigned at the flower stand, and threw in with each bud so prioeless a smile?how they would have dispensed with her in the charades and tableaux and various oon. i a. -l 1mvarices oy vuou ui? uig vuiuvu annually tided over its financial difficulties ?it -would be hard to say. But nobody thought of doing without the pretty Miss Pnrdy; indeed, it was generally oonoeded that the teacher of the. Bible class, Mr. Henry Howe, meant to secure her as a permanency for toe town of Seabrook and its vicinity. He had been known to strongly object to the title of the pretty Miss Purdy," and was really the most available party that could do away with it. She was rather cold and ooqaettish and shy, as became her exalte 1 position, but nobody but a fool would refusH the proffer of the fine house and landed property, and hand f i some person, majestic manners, un- M I bounded perquisites in trade and in bi j society, that belonged to Mr. Henry re j Howe. The pretty Miss Purdy was to not a fool, by any means, so this mag- ul nificent man and this lovely, engaging b< woman were drifting together in this T] natural fitness of things, when a queer of ?almost an absurd?obstacle presented ce itself. st The younger sister of the pretty Miss & Purdy fell hopelessly in love with Mr. te Howe. It seemed like a joke at first, 00 Miss Lily was sovoung: she had scarcely reached her eighteenth year, and had P* just entered society. Then she was bo ar plain so hopelessly plain ! It was such a misfortune, the folks of Seabrook said, c.a to name a girl Lily, till you could form some idea of what her complexion would di be; and dear me! how very murky and 83 I dark and thick and turbid was the skin | of poor Lily Purdy I And her hair was ai] | so abundant and straight and heavy, it 88 was almost impossible to arrange it be- de | comingly, when it was irrevocably fast- to I ened to the head in that way: it was so si" much more easily manipulated when un- ; Q* I trammelled by these natural ties. She ! D> had fine eyes, to be sure, large and ; *h dark; but what were eyes in a case like ! an this ! She was little and dumpy and ' H dull; and then just think of the disad- ; P< vantages the poor child labored under ! ' lh To be known, in contradistinction to her 1 sister, as not the pretty Miss Purdy. de When the gossips of Seabrook were des- M canting upon the success or failure of dn this or that entertainment, it was so P' natural to say, "Miss Purdy was there H ?not the pretty Miss Puidy, but that ! hii plain little sister of hers, you know." It j hii was sad for the poor child, very sad; and, j 8? to crown all, she must go and fall des- j a 1 perately in love with Mr. Henry Howe, ^ the richest, handsomest, altogether the sil finest man in the place. At first her on passion was set aside as the foolish, te' rather forward preference of a child. Pe Mr, Howe had been visiting there a an long while, a little more pronounced in j st? his attentions than the other suitors of | Blanche, and gradually gravitating to : P" the position of a suitor; this of course ; ari rendered his footing in the household an j easy on , and his bearing to the young- j ve er sister was gent'e and encouraging and 1 ha familiar, as was natural under the cir- i bu cnmstances. It began to be apparent j lit' that Lily clung to his presence pertin- j aciousiy?too mucii eo^ragt mer ior iuv i comfortable American custom of letting j Se young people arrange their matrimonial j s?< affairs for themselves. Blanche en- : J? deayored in vain to get rid of this stninb- ! ling-block to her progress; hints and i Mi winks and frowns and little errands were i pe unavailiug; at last the parental authori- | ho was called in, and the parlor floor be- j ge came Blanche's undivided empire. But j he: there was the Bible class, which Lily j co1 always attended, in storm or sunshine, to and of oourse it was impossible to re-1 he strict the child's religious privileges, Gr Lily had not mastered enough of Bible ' yo literature to make herself either a help ini or a nuisance to her teacher; the poor ha irirl was not even a hard student, or a on blue-stooking of any kind. I don't know ! thi that it -would have prospered her un- pr< fortunate passion if she had been; I thi think it rarely does; but anyway, 1 may ale as well confess candidly that I am not i ab holding back any capabilities in Lily's mt mind or person that will suddenly sweep ms away all obstacles to her happiness, be Her mind appeared to be sluggish as j kn her blood, and her whole being seemed I an so completely dominated by this over- wt powering affection that it overflowed to mt the surface, an<T unconsciously to her- go self she* was the talk of the class. When 1 she entered society her foolish partiality jh had been for a short time the talk of the soi place?only a short time, because the sti subject was too absurd aDd unimportant to to occupy the gossips of Seabrook long, j yo but it was long enough to make Mr. j m? Howe uncomfortable?very uncomfortable indeed. His maiden sister, who br superintended his home, began one ha mnmino fn invpicrli in l>r? mfiaSTlTed 1 f.h terms against this unbecoming conduct loi on the part of Miss Purdy. pa "Not the pretty Miss Pardy, Henry," an said Miss Howe. "I must say, although Bt I don't altogether fancy the pretty Miss an Purdy" (it -would be hard to say who ho Miss Howe did altogether fancy), "I've i at< no fault to find with her manners or ap- j pearanoe." "There is no fault to find, Jane," said ' "j her brother. "And as for this outrage- cii ous talk about Lily, it's the most mon- > tal strous thing I ever heard of." i wc "Well," said Jane, with an eloquent in sniff of her thin high nose, "I'm glad is your conscience is easy. I should hate i to believe that you had led the girl into j ga this unseemingly idolatry. I have been : be forced into giving the matter some at- T1 tention myself?" i is "These oonfounded tattle-mongers of! Seabrook?" Baid Mr. Howe. Then j co paused, remembering that his maiden ' y0 sister was at the head of this set. ! of "?Some attention myself," pursued I Bti Miss Howe, who never allowed herself ; fir to be disturbed by these fraternal oat- i M bursts; '-and I have seen that she never i takes her eyes from your face, that she j mi is obsequious in her attentions to you, j that she blushes with delight when you i M speak to her, and absolutely trembles at1 on your frown." i be "Stuffand nonsense!" said Mr. Howe. j to "I'll put an end to this." And soon thereafter mounting his horse and rid-! ag ing in a familiar direotion .he became so afl vexed in spirit and ont of temper with I the world in general thai his high-bred ; ha nag caught the infection, and began to 1 curvet and prance in unison. ; th Mr. Howe had determined when ho ; ly, left the house to give the final blow to j an all this gossip by proposing at once for thi the hand of the pretty Miss Purdy. He be would have done so long ago bat for j wi (rtnU/ltAnn nnalma V*a lio/l 1 r* va. I mr OUUIC iooviuiuuo i^uaxuio uu iu *v- nv lation to her father. He wished with all ha his heart as he rode along that the c b- pit jecl of his affection hadn't a relation in the world; and becoming more and sti more vexed and restive as a. hundred op hateful objections to her family arose in toi his mind, when he reached the house, to* preparatory to dismounting, he gave a th: savage jerk to the bit, that threw the foi spirited animal beneath him on hor Sb haunches. No sooner had she recovered pu from this shock to her sensibilities than he she rose upon her hind-legs and began to paw the air in a most lively manner, j sa Mr. Howe always declared that he could be have managed the vixen if he had been wl let alone; but, be that as it may, the mi window of the front basement, where we be last left the pretty Miss Purdy and her mi motner at Dreaktasr, was suddenly dash- ? ed open, and out sprang a female figure to the relief of the imperilled horseman, wi There "was a wild vision of flowing of skirts and hair streaming in the wind, of a little arm and hand catching at the ch rein and dragging at it for half a second p? or bo; then all at once the animal became re as quiet as a lamb, and hung its head curiously over the female figure, now sa prostrate on the pavement Mr. Howe w: flung himself off his horse, and earned Miss Purdy up the stairs to the parlor ti< floor?not the pretty Miss Purdy; bless L you, no. Mr. ilowe might have curvetted and pranced there on the two " hind-legs of his horee till his fate was je determined forever, so far as the pretty at Miss Pnrdy was concerned. Besides, <x her back was turned to the window; she bi was bnay reproaching her sister, who o: had just entered the dining-room, and ei poor Mrs. Purdy was looking on, when p' suddenly they saw the child's eyeB be- ir come distended with a wild horror, and ai she flew, as it were, out the window. It si was all over then in a few moments, and w t. Howe was carrying his unconscious arden into the parlor. The mother i8hed away for restoratives and a doct, and Mr. Howe in the next few min:es went far to rivet the chains that )nnd him to the pretty Miss Pnrdy. bey were both hanging over the conch poor Lilly, and the occasion was irtainly calculated to call lorth the rongest emotions of both parties, lanche was excessively fond of her sisr in her own way. and the pitiable ndition of the poor child was very arming. Blanche trembled and grew lie, and it was necessary for the strong m of Mr. Howe to support her. "Don't give way, Blanche,"he said, Uing her thus familiarly for the first ne in his life. " My sweet Blanche, >n't give way, for my sake?for all our kes." Then Mrs. Purdy came into the room, id shortly after the doctor arrived; and wtAvlv/wkl rronf 1 omor? Tinrl RUUil UO tliC JJJCUiVOi p i .1. i. i. , 1 Umv? wlared there was nothing very serious fear, that it was only a slight concus?n of the brain, and with care and liet all would be well-ras soon as lanohe was at ease about Lily, her oughts reverted t? the tender accents d unmistakably fond words of Mr. owe. And the soul of the pretty Miss lrdy was rested in the thought that is procrastinated and tedious wooing >uld now be brought to a speedy and sirable end. The doctor went away, rs. Purdy was called to some domestic ity, and Mr. Howe and the pretty Miss lrdy were left tbere together. Mr. owe was BittiDg quite close to uiancue, 8 elbow on the arm of her chair, and 3 head resting on his hand. It was a aceful, almost a touching position for over under the circumstances. Blanohe is quite oontent that he shoald remain ent, feeling certain of what was going in his heart. Ah me ! how little, afr all, we know of this unstable and rfidiouB organ ! Its quips and quirks d fandangoes pass all human "underinding. Mr. Howe sighed heavily, and Blanohe t her hand sympathizingly upon his a. It waB a pretty hand, slim and lite, with rosy nails and blue veins?a ry pretty hand; and Mr. Howe's other nd was dangling uselessly at his side; t he made no effort to take the pretty tie hand in his own. "Don't grieve,"whispered Blanohe; please don't. She's getting over it. e how regularly she breathes. Sho'll jn be well again; the doctor Baid so, uknow." "Tea. but think of me," whispered r. Howe, and whereas Blanche's whis? r was soft and melodious, his was arse and broken. " Of course she'll t over it, if nothing happens to put r back; but suppose, when she is revering, sbe finds out we're engaged be married, it'll kill her, it'll break r heart, and I shall be her murderer! eat heaven ! Blanche, you see, don't a, that I can't do it ? It's the most 'ernally tormenting thing that ever ppened to a man; b it I can't marry e sister and kill another. I came here is morning prepared to make a formal opoaai for your hand, and let every:ng go by the board but onr happiness >ne; but you know how Lily feels out me, how she risked her life for s?all folly, of course; I could have inaged the brute myself, but Lily was side herself with fright, and didn't ow, poor child, what she was doing; d you see?don't you, Blanche ?? j lat a position all this plaoes me in. A , in would have to be made of stone to any farther just now." "Don't, Mr. Howe?don't say any >re," said Blanche, in a voice that unded queer to herself, it was so ained and harsh. 1' I should be sorry have you feel more ridiculous than' u will when I tell you- that you have ide a great mistake all through." Blanche paused a moment to get her eath. It seemed to her that it almost d left her body for a while there when is man was speaking. Not that she red him?oh no, Blanche had never rticularly loved anybody but herself, d fcer family as aocesssories to herself. if. aha uraa r??l l-o rranfthlA nf A vast. lount of love in this way; and, oh ! w crnelly it had been torn and lascersd and trampled npon 1 "A mistake!" he repeated. "Yes, a mistake," said Blanohe; rather a remarkable one, tinder the oumatances. A man should never ke it prematurely for granted that a >man will accept his offer of marriage, this case it was impossible. My word already given to another." "What! broke in Mr. Howe; "enged to somebody else ? Oh, that can't i. I can't believe that, you know, lis is all a subterfuge, Blanche*. Who the man ? what is his name ?" " I can not understand," said Blanche, Idly, "how the matter can concern u in the least." Then, seeing a look sharp incredulity in his face, she was ing to desperation, and mentioned the st namo that occurred to her. " It is r. Brower," she said. "The man who holds your father's srtgage ?" Baid Mr. Howe. "Yes," replied Blanche; and then r. Howe got upon his feet, and with e piercing look of disdain upon the autiful woman at his side, bowed low her, and said with her permission he >uld go, but would, of course, call ain in the course of the day to ask tec her sister. Then he took his leave thout a glance at the poor girl that d caused all this trouble. As for Blanche, no sooner was he out e door than she fell to crying?bitter, but under her breatb, and without y unladylike demonstrations. Not at she loved him, mind; but she had en goaded beyond endurance, and thout this lelief of tears, which are man's safety-valve, she could not ve been mistress of herself and her us. A.11 at once the poor girl on the lounge -uggled back to consciousness, and ening her eyes upon Blanche, was iched beyond measure to find her in irs. It was really an extraordinary Ing, and Lily was not to be blamed r taking these tears in pity to herself. ie put out her little cold hand and lied the dress of Blanohe, and begged r not to cry. "Don't cry for me, Blanche," she id. " Don't?please don't spoil your autiful eyes for me. It matters little loHiai- T /11a nr livn* T t.hink T'fi sn uch rather die if I could. It would i so much better for us all. But tell e just one thing, Blanc.ie dear, please oh ! do tell me, is he hurt ?" Blanche began to respect Lily. There is a pnrsistency about this passion hers that appealed to Blanche's idea power. She had always loved her iild, in her own way, as a Purdy and a irt of herself, but now she began to spect her. He isn't hurt, you dear little goose," id Blanche; "he has just left us, and ill come to see you again to day." " And was he very much out of pasnoe with my?my absurdity?" said dy. ?? On flia iwntrarv " ronliorl fflannlift. it quite touched the heart of his masty;" and then such a sweet gladness lone iu the ohild's eyes, such a pretty >lor rushed to her cheeks, her face ecame so suddenly radiant with an incplioable warmth of tenderness and notion, that Blanche found it far from lain. If the couch had been crimson lb bead of bine, if Lily's hair had been [ ranged gracefully, if instead of that ;ift white oollar some soft yellow laoe 'ere about her neck, if?if?and here a 4 ; . J * , I , ^ thought that was almost revelation Beized the fertile fancy of Blanche, and Mrs. Purdy coming in at that moment to take her. place by the couch of her daughter, Blanche ran lightly down the stairs to her father, who was walking up and down the dining-room, with his hands behind his back, apparently studying the dingy design in the faded carpet there, but really bent upon more important matters. When Mr. Howe called again it was at the olose of a long miserable day to him, as well as to some other human creatures. His sensibilities had also been torn in their tenderest fibre, and being a man, he had not been able to cry and have it out with himself. He was too superior and punctilious to swear and vent his spite in rage and brutality upon his clerks an 5 dependents, so all this wretchedness had become pent up within him till night-fall, and he told himself, as he moodily went in the familiar direction that politeness dictated, but inoli* nation forbade, that he would have to go on in this way till the end of time. He conld not let the world know how cruelly he had been used, and could only be thankful he was saved the ignominy of a direct refusal from this false, scheming, heaitless woman, because his conscience would not allow him to ride rough-shod over the heart of the only being, he began to believe, that loved him in the whole wide world?this poor little girl who had braved everything for that love: the tattle of these misererable gossips, the obloquy and reproach of her family and friends, and at last her own precious life, His heart melted within mm as he thought of it all. Mr, Purdy met him at the door, and appeared to be very much moved and agitated as he wrung Mr. Howe's hand. A. cold chill shook the heart of Mr, Howe, "Great Heaven!" he cried; " she is not?not worse?" "No, no?I hope not," said Mr. Purdy. " I sincerely hope there iB noth? i T i-.i ~e ? lug MJ UO ttppiOUCUUOU Ul a oonvuo uw tare; but, my dear sir," he pursued, in a low, trembling voice, " sometimes this revulsion of feeling is dangerous?some times joy will kill. And this dear child has so long cherished what she has consid* ered a hopeless passion, a sentiment, sir, that has occasioned unspeakable sorrow to us all, that we have endeavored in vain to curb and repress; and now sir, now, when she finds that passion returned, when her life, which has been repressed and shrouded by despair and Badness, is all at once allowed to bloom out in the vei'y fullness of joy? Oh, Mr. Howe. God blese you, Sir, God bless voul But be careful, be very careful; remember, my dear sir, that joy will?will?sometimes?kill. " Here Mr. Purdy's voice broke. He wiped his eyes with his handkerchief, and as they had reached the end of the oorridor, he opened the door softly, let Mr. Howe in, then shut it again, leaving himself out, and Mr. Howe found I himself quite alone with Miss Purdy, I and not the pretty Miss Purdy, For a moment he stood there quite helpless and forlorn. The rodomontade of her father, whose wordy ways had always been a curse to him, still rumbled in his ears withont any intelligible mean- , ing, and the figure on the couch before him confused and bewildered him. It held a singular grace and charm. The light burned low, the fire from the grate seemed to cast a soft crimson glow over every thing?over the Warm-colored shawl that was spread about Lily, and the yellow laoe at her throat and hands; upon her hair that fell back over the pillow in a purple mass that almost swept the floor, and some short locks about her face that had taken caressing crinkles he had never notioed before. \r\A Vi a* artaa ma-ra wnnrlflrfnl. ThAt I AUU UVA Wjva nv?v ? drew him, in Bpite of himself, to the oouch, and made him bend over her and take her cold little hand in 'his own. 8he lifted it to her lips'without a word, but her eves Were wonderful. They spoke a whole sweet language of their own. A queer sort of yearning tugged at his heart. He oould not tell whether he was most miserable or most happy; but the one thought that was uppermost in his mind was that here alone he oould find peace and rest and truth and purity. He sank on his knees by her side, and put his lips to her forehead and whimpered, "Only get well, dear, so that I can have you all to myself." Even in that sweet moment, you see. he hated the idea of the rest of the Purdys. But he soon got over that, nnr? nvnn want to Blanche's marriage. whioh speedjly followed his own, Mid shook hands cordially with the man that' had held his father-in-law's mortgage. He holds it now no longer, of course. He long since handed it over to Blanche, who in her turn gave to her father.* But how in the world, you will ask, did this Mr. Brower become as day in the hands of thiB beautiful and ingenious potter, Miss Blanche? That I do not know; but I have said enough about her various oharms and capabilities to make it no matter of astonishment. Besides people have no room for amazement on any other subject than the one" of Mr. Henry Howe's marrying Miss Purdy ?not the pretty Miss Pordy!?Harper's Weekly. The Home and Habits of garibaldi. Garibaldi's home at Oaprera is the simplest of habitations, and the life he leads therein is as simple. He has but few attendants, and it is told that j guests are required to make their own beds. The general's days are uneventful. He rises in the morning at four n'nlocb. and without taking anvthinp to eat goes off to look after some pets who inhabit the border and surface of a small pond not far from the house?a flock of geese. He feeds them, and then, having gone back to the honse to get his i oup of black coffee, he sets to work in i his fields nntil about an hour before ! midday, when he returns home and looks over andsigns letters whioh Basssi, his secretary has written, according to his instructions. Some twelve or thirteen years ago he used to employ this | hour before dinner in teaching a little shepherd lad named Luca Spano. The boy was little more than a cretin; but by dint of steady, quiet perseverance and kindness, Garibaldi succeeded in making something of him. He had * " ?i- J 1 -3 iearned 10 reaa wen, wnie u guuu uuuu, J and -was progressing well, when, on the 24th of July, 1866, he fell by the general's side, fighting like a hero, at Monte Suello. iu the Tyrol. Of this brave death, and* other incidents connected with his* adventurous life, the general freely discourses as he sits at the head of the board, his son Menotti and his friends on the one side and the other, and the servants "below the salt." Dinnee at Caprera is always a simple meal: minestra, i. ?., soup with Italian paste or vegetables in it, followed by two dishes at the most, and no wine on the table. At tlje end of about an hour the Innron fVlO fr.Klo find CCllT10 tfl gujjxu.cai auwtwo 0 0 ? his room, throws himself dressed upon the bed, sleeps lor a while, and then reads the papers or any book he is interested in.' At fonr o'clock he goes back to his work in the fields until six or six-thirty, when he returns home again" to^up. After supper he returns to hiB room, never neglects to write a page in his journal and the meteorological changes of the day, and is generally in bed at the time when a great part of the world are beginning to turn night into day. Peculiar Forms of Mania* There are several respectable a d recognized forms of mania. Book collecting is one of the most respectable forms. One man desires a complete history; he will possess all thfl historians, all the poets, all the novelists, etc.; another is a specialist; perhaps he takes to Shakespeare?he determines to have every edition,every oommen'tary,every treatise on the infinite Lumber of questions to which Shakespeare and his works have given rise. If he is a man of fortune, he will give high prices for anything rare. Another phase is the collecting old and curious books of all sorts; uncnt copies, copies with large margins, editions rendered curious by some wellknown misprints, or any other peculi* arity whioh collectors have agreed to regard as giving the book a special value. This, is called "Bibliomania." Then here are the collectors of mauscripts. But who has not met with the collector of autographs-^the enthusiast who besets his acquaintances for every scrap of paper thej' may happen to possess bearing the signature of any one who has become distinguished? Then there are the collectors of objects of natural his tory : amiable racel Who he a not seen the elderly gentleman in spectacles, armed with a lai-ge green net on a rim with a handle? See! he gives chase to a butterfly; he rtlns as nimbly as a schoolboy,' Ah, he had bagged it I It is a much-coveted specimen of Pblj/ommatiis agon; he wants now only the Oamberwell Beauty and Thecla betulcb to complete hie case of English bntteiflies. * Se has long been at work at insects and birds, and his walls are covered with glass cases; he is a correspondent of half the natural history periodicals, and is the first to hear the cuckoo and to see the glow worm. Then, too, there are the collectors of facts. The astronomer registers observations on the heavens; another records the rainfall and the direction of the wind at different places, Others collects facts about population, the rate of wages* the pre valence of diseases, the statistics of benefit clubs, of railway traffio, and an infintiy of topics. The number of amotenr thus engaged is very large. They work silently, and their pursuits possess but little interest for people in general; but only let a question be raised in the daily papers, and it is surprising how many persons appear to have been for years giving theit entire attention to the subject?Casaell'8 Pamily Magazine. The Tailor-Bird. Within the last few ?eats, the inter* esting habits of this celebrated bird have been thoroughly investigated and described by Dr. Jerdon and others, but with more especial fullness by Mr. Allan Hume. From their accounts, we gather that the real neat is a deep, soft cup, inclosed in a leaf or leave*, which the oorba fncfutVipf fr? fnrm tfj? rfWvmta """" ~e> ? ? r ? ole. This is at various elevations, often high np in a mango-tree, but as often low do^n amotlg the leaves of tile edible plant (Solarium esculentum). The neit varies in appearance according to the number and kinds of leaves made use of, and is usually chiefly composed of fine ootton, with a few horse-hairs and fine graas-stems, the use of which is obvionsly to enablo tb9 cavity to retain its shape permanently. In some (Jases the nest is'described as having been made of wooJ, down and horse-hair, and one, mentioned by Miss Cockburn, as made of the down of seed-pods and flue grasses. Mr. Hume has found these nests with three leaves fastened at equal distances from one another into the sides of the nest, and not joined to one another at all. He-has also found them be tween two leaves, tiie one iorming a high back and turned tlj> ttt the ends to support the bottom of the nest, the other hiding the nest in front and hanging down below it, the tip.only of the first leaf being sewn to the middle of the second. He has also found them with four leaves sewn together to form a canopy and sides, from which the bottom of the ne6t depended, and also between two long leaves whose sides, r'rom the very tips to near the peduncles, were closely and neatly sewn together. For their sewing, they general!j make use of cobweb, but silk from cocoons, thread, wool, and vegetable fibers are also made available, ur. jeraon Biases that lie has seen a tailor-bird watch a native tailor until the latter left the veranda where he was at work, then hastily seize some peices of thread that were lying about, and fly off with them in trittmpn. Mr. Layard describes a nest of the tailor-bird made entirely of cocoanut fiber. With the same material a dozen leaves of an oleander had been drawn and stiohedtogether.?Scribner's Magazine. A Narrow Escape. The other day an exciting scene occurred at Little Falls, N. J., about five miles above Pater son. The Passaic river at this place is crossed by a dam fifteen feet high. Above the river is ?.1?-> i- -i? i,? :;J? smooiu ana Ut)KJW lucic mo tapuD. xwu little girls,both grandchildren of Robert Beatty, one of the'principal mill-owners of the place, aged respectively nine and fourteen years, were in the river rowing. They went too near the dam and were swept over it to what appeared a certain death. A number of persons who had seen their efforts to reaoh the shore ran to the lower side of the dam, and to their astonishment, saw that the boat had gone over and landed right side up against a rocky ledge, almost under the water falL. The children were in the boat and apparently uninjured. No one had ever gone over that dam before and escaped, and the spectators could scarcely believe their eves. There was still great danger for the boat was likely to be swamped at any moment or Bwept down the rapids. After various suggestions a rope was stretched across the river near the boat. The current is too swift to wade, and Mr. Henry Stanley volunteered to pull himself by the rope ont to the boat. The current was too strong for him, and he had to let go, being nearly drowned himself. Mr. Simonson took his place, and after a hard struggle succeeded in reaching the girls. He seized the younger one and fought his way back to the shore safely with her in his arms. Then he started aI-Ua? QK/1 l-? ATTTnTTftW tt7qo o lUr l/liU 1/tUOl uud. uv/n??wi, tt?w w larger girl, and the first attempt to rescue her was unsuccessful. A long ladder -was then found and stretohed between 1wo rocks, and with the aid of this and the rope the girl was safely got to the shore amid the cheers of the crowd on the bank. _ An Alligator's Meal. While some of the hands were going to their work in the field of Col. MoLeod, adjourning town, they discovered u mw lorff? nlliorfttrir mdkinc itfl'Wftvtn ? *1^.7 "O O U Hamburg lake. Ool. MoLeod fired both barrels of a shotgun, loaded with buckshot into its neok. Then a field hoe was brought up, but the first blow shivered the stout pine helve. An axe was then brought, with which he was killed. An examination showed that it had feasted upon a hog's head, a turtle, and about a peck of blackberries.. Though but fifteen feet in length, it was the largest . ever killed in this part of Florida in the lakes or fresh water streams. The buckshot did not penetrate the skin. No one that we have met ever knew before thai alligators were fond of blackberries, anc how one can manage to piok the berriet is still a mjsteryt?Lafa City Reporter, AN OLD-TIME NEW YORK RIOT. How Body-Snatching afld d ftjtedltal Student's Joke Led to an Attack D^n a Ho?p!tal?The Trade Result. A correspondent in a New York paper writes as follows: About the middle of April, 1788, there was a clima* of feeling in New York against medical students who for a year past had been rathef reckless in bodysnatching. So long as thet diasccted the remains Of slates, or of the unfortunates who came from Pflttef's field, no one much cared. But a grate unde* protection of Trinity parish even, and several in the Greenwich street burialground, much used by the Methodists, had been despoiled. There was consequently much talk and indignation about the outrages. ,_Of course you remember the Now York hospital that /ronted West Pearl on Broadway. In my father's time it occupied the block to' Duane street and from its rear windows was to be had an almost unintertupted tie# of gfecn fields and the river. The medical school of ' Ooltlmbia'-=not long befofe called Sing's college?was attached to that hospital* The oollege buildings remained until about twenty years ago fronting on Park place, and of course college and hospital were contiguous. The front of the hospital was said to be quite fine in appearance; its grounds were finely laid out tfith walks, shrubberies and trees, ^1% ** itfod an rtticm | ttilU Ub UUD uaua uiuu nw uu v^/wu I space that the boys of tile period -Would piaj in. A young Bob Satfjer at Sen Allen while dissecting one April afternoon?it think the 13th?had opened a window for the sake of the rivet bfeetei and from thence ont of mere joke held up an amputated arm to the boys. One of them?and observe the cnrions and appalling coincidences fate sometimes prepares even as in the case of the two Harrisons, lather and son? more inquisitive than the rest, palled a light ladder which was lying near and erected it against the hospital wall, so as to climb tip for a better View. The 'sawbones,' stall jocnlar, said ' Soflny, don't that look like your mother's arm ?' It was thoughtlessly said, but, carious enough, within a few months the boy's mother had died. Full of this remark and thinking Upon What no doubt he had heard of 'resurrectionists' the boy dropped from the ladder and went off to And his father^ who was then engaged in laying brick on ft house in Falton street. The father dropped his tools atid went nn tn tVin errAmwftrd that. T hflliflVfl. Wflfl somewhere near the Lispenard meadows, and, oddly enough, upon digging, the body was not to be found. It took but a brief time in the little city to bruit about the whole affair. The workmen engaged with the father and infuriated widower soon raised a small mob. The story was passed about as | son and father told it, and in an hour hospital grounds and the hospital itself were filled totli tinthiiikiilg and enraged rioters; who, hot cohtetit \Htll driving out affrighted stddents and keeplers, practically rattled the bones and gutted the museums and laboratories. Intelligence was instantly sent to Mayor James Duane, Recorder Richard Variok and Sheriff Robert Boyd, and between them they raised a posse comitatus and went to the scene of riot. The poor mason declared that he recognized parts of the ' remains of his wife; Whether in hifl el- ; citement he did or not coald never be verified; bat there was no donbt that hie wife had been dissected. " The pfeeGncfe of the authorities for a time allayed the disorder, but two of the stndents had been rotighly handled and ' were in danger of being killed. My father waB then living with his own : father in JDey street, and was engaged in home stadv when the news cme. He immediately repaired to the dollege alld fonnd that the authorities there were natnrally excited also, and that some of the medicals had been already locked up for safe keeping in the jail that stood in the park. It was the general 1 impression that nlore bother mtlst corrle of it; therefore, thinking discretion the hpt.Kor nftrf, nf valnr. mv father ffoes to the foot of Liberty street?where boats were kept, and was bo6k taken across to Jersey, where etery day he got word as to what went on. "The evening of the riot was a fine spring one, and there was no need of any extra newspapers in those days. By tea time, decfcwards, east, west, : north and outwards were full of the out- j rage. It was 4 Down with the hospital,' I ' Death to the gfave^ stealers, etc. Even women joined in the cry. The feeling was rampant also with many in the better classes. George Clinton was then governor. Alexander Hamilton ' was a sort of general [peacemaker, as ! was John Jav. There was in the evening a consultation of oitisens and authorities at the hotlse oi the mayor. who, I beliove, then lived somewhere at the foot of Chambers street. To use the medical phrase, they prognosed the affair quite accurately, for in the morning not a sudden but a preconcerted . riot began around the hospital. Off went the rioters to Columbia oollege to seach for the bodies, and to the houses of all the physicians after mutilated re* mains, but of course, found nothing except affrighted inmates. The few students and debtors who were inside were 1 seriously frightened, as at last became the authorities. Not even the eloquence ' of Hamilton nor the beloved face of Jay ! could accomplish anything: Then Sheriff Boyd called out a company?of uniformed militia, who marched up the park 1 fields and marched down again under a shower of stone, sticks and dirt, for as yet they only had blank cartridges served out. Next, a few more being added, the militia marched on the mob again, only this time to lose their mus- i kets. All day long the crowd assaulted 1 the doors of the old jail; but it was a ' strong old place, as revolutionary pris- 1 oners had found, and well barricaded 1 inside. Not until nine o'olock at night, was an effective force of militia oonvened, ; but this time the soldiers all had ball cartridges. Even now there was hesita- 1 tionl John Jay being struck with a stone and knocked down, the mayor was 1 about to order a fusilade, when Baron : Steuben, who hated mobs but detested 1 the continental disregard of life by authorities, begged him to desist. But T remember my father would laugh when he repeated the tradition, eo doubt true, that while thus expostulating Baron Steuben was himself hit, .when he immediately himself cried out: ' Fire!' And the vollev camel "The militia must have stood about where the city hall now does. Several were killed, but I dare say the number was quoted at hundreds, and a few more were wounded; then the rest ran away, and the riot was over excepting in those mutterings which always follow such scenes. Bnt the college remained closed for some weeks, and the medical branch of it was not reopened until autumn, by which time the dog dqys had killed the heat of the populace. Nevertheless the sore feeling remained, and at the next election four out of the seven aldermen were on the rioter-killing issue beaten at . the polls, and a new sheriff, in the per. son of Marinua Wfllett, was put in power." " i The idea of the earwig introducing itself into the human ear, and causing ) madness or death, may be ranked among V vulgar errors. The wax secretion of the I ear is itself a sufficier.*- guard against i the entrance of an iusect ^hose natural , food is decayed fruits and veget*1 * Old Drinking Cups and Customs. Drinking from the same <ng> by several individuals is all old custom which is still kept alive in Italy and in all parts of trerfflanj, and is not unknown In England among those Classes who are lovers of malt liquor and drink it "from the pewter." When a friend meets another in a Coffee house or tavern, the one who has already ordered something does not issue a second order for his friend, but holds out the vessel to the new-comer. The (German brag and the English pew- J ter mug still show the popular feeling in favor of one large vessel for a friendly patty. The formula of Salon politeness which consisted ifi two drinkers employing the same > easel is well known. The first who drank said ~We% heil (Here's health to you), and the one who received the goblet before emptying it said Drink heil (I drink your health), from the "Soman de Ron" it appears that this was customary among the English as late as the twelfth century. There were hanaps mounted oil one foot, in the form 01 a cnaiice, ocners were mounted on three feet, and others still were made in the form of a bowl or cup. Some were made with covers, others Without, and the materials employed in their construction were as varied as theif shapes* The hanap was particularly used by persona of high social position; the tankard with handle being the more popular vessel And such was the ftar of p~;<?on in the middle ages that a great personage was served from a hanap with a cover which cottld be used as a, vessel, from which Cover the servant drank a little of the liquor, which he poured Itom the goblet for that purpose. These precautions dledrly proved insufficient, and preservatives against poisoning were sought after under the most abated prejudices. The fabulous animal known as the tinicorn or licorne was thought to be the enemy of everything impure. People fancied'that bv causing their beverages to be served them in vases made of the horn of the magical beast, they could easily detect the presence of poison in their drink. Handles were made, as they thought, of this material for knivee; for it was sold that blood would exudo from horn and bone of the licorne when brought in contact with poisoned meats. The long sword otihe narwhal when brought to Europe was thought to foe the horn of the unicorn; and it is probable that fossil ifory of many kinds was also sold under the same name. Well-appointed houses possessed a large ntimber of hanaps. The inventory, engrossed in 1&I0, of the household of Charles V. of France, stifnaihed the Wise, describes four gold hanaps'and as many ewers, weighing in all nearly ninety-six marcs; and 177 tankards of gilded silver, nearly all enameled and weighing in the aggregate 908 marcs of silver. Some of these vessels were pro* j vided with air-tight covers, as they were intended to be carried about with already prepared drinks. Among northern nations they were sometimes' made of iiiaple Wood flfld beautifully carved.? Scribner'8 Magazine. Btfali Commits-on Outrage. His honor hnncr ud hi? coat on its usual peg, after first removing from one of the tail pockets a parcel, containing a banana and fonr figs, but as he feached to place his hat on the hook a startled expression came to his eyes. Retreating back a step, aud surveying his old arm-chair from several sides fitI once, his hair gradually worked up on i etidj his eyes took on a glassy look, and | he hoatsely whispered: " Who has done this fotll deed 1" 'Thereby hangs a tale. Bijah had been ! at work on that chair for twelve hours. In the goodness of his heart he had purchased 194 fancy pictures, a bottle of niucilage, and he had gone into kerarrii/Hj tflwnn rfrHlo fchfi Wnrwesian onions on his farm wanted Water, and his two Btrawberry plants were calling on him to eome and rest their backs for an hoar, he was pasting lions' heads on the legs of that chaif, and decorating each spindle with a paper zebra or an alligator. | When all was finished, he stood back ' and said: "I'yeFtruck glory and gorgeousness rigb* between the eyes!. His honor will look upon me *ith renewed love, and the boys will come to me to get their theatrical poses." He had skulked behind the door to give his honor a chance to appland and exclaim, and from his hiding place he heard the words! "Who has done this foul deed? What malicious-minded, stoop-shouldered, bald-headed caitiff has spoiled a ohair which cost me six dollars ? Who has dared to trifle with me ? Where is that person named Bijah?" The old janitor came out of his seclusion His face was pale, his eyee looked over the desk in the direction of New Mexico, and he shambled along, instead of stepping out like a horse. "Mr. Joy," said his honor, as he Jnmn nnnn tVm ah in in c nate. 1WACU uunu uj^wu ?.w ^ 11 take that comic almanac?that hide- j ousness?that sample of double-dyed j villany oat of my sight, and bring me a i wood-seated chair I You are fixing your physical constitution for the gallows, sir 1" Bijah made the change without a ; word in reply. Some folks can keep i their jaws still and let the heart explode, j Se is one of the sort. He was seen j wiping his eyes on the stove-pipe in j the corridor, but that was the only sign. ! ?Detroit Free Press. t The Homes ef Our Forefathers. The history of domestio architecture, ' 3ays a writer in "Cassell's Popular Edu- j cator," in our own country illustrates j in a very striking manner the rise of civilization and the extinction of barbarism. We have not to travel back more than a few hundred years to find : domestic comfort a thing entirely un- j known, and the abodes of princes en- i tirely destitute of conveyances which are ! now considered necessary in the house j -e ?tioooanf Our Saxon fore HI OVOIJ [/uuw-.. _ fathers lived in the rudest possible style. The homes even of kings and lords consisted simply of one large apartment or "hall," in which all the details of domestic life were carried on by themselves and their immediate attendants. Privacy was a thing entirely uokqwn. j After the pursuits of the day?tbe j chase or the fight?they assembled I round the common board, taking place [ according to their rank in the house- j hold; and in the same apartment all j members of the household afterward { disposed themselves for sleep. It was : only occasionally that one end of the j common hall was separated from the j rest by a screen, affording a rude retirfnr fhfl lord and ladv of ' iilg UUUixt WW* w the house, with a few privileged attend-! ants. Almost the only out-offices attach-' ed to the hall were the sheds or pens for the cattle and the swine. The dogs, more cherished, were allowed a place in a corner of the hall itself; and another corner was frequently occupied by the store of provisions. Sometimes, however, the latter would be plaoed in receptacles or cellare dug out under the hall. Its,flooring was of earth, its walls of wood and clay, and its roof of thatch. For the admission of light, openings were left in the sides and olosed by wicker-work when night came on; for warmth a log fire was lighted in the center of the apartment, and the smoke escaped by holes in the roof. TIMELY TOPICS. A "Female Hercules," a native of France, is to be seen in London. One of her feats is to lift an anvil by the hair of her head, and then have the same anvil placed on her bosom, while three smiths forge a horseshoe with their hammers, she talking and singing all the while. A little more than ten yearn ago the Japanese army were still Turing bows and* arrows, and wearing armors; now the soldiers use breech-loading rifles, and the government has recently adopted the most potent weapon for the sup! pression of rebellion?a just administrat tion of the laws. | The rules of a ladies' club in Warsaw, Poland, declare that no member j shall give more than $26 for a morning dress, $52 for an evening dress, or ?6 for a bonnet, and that at each quarterly meeting each member shall trnthfully j declare that she owes neither a milliners nor a dressmaker's bill. The recent growth of Paris is in remarkable contrast with former years. In the reign of Henry XL, during the sixteenth century, it contained about 12,000 houses. About 200 hundred years later, in 1750, the number had ; only increased to 23,000. If 1817, there I were but 26,751; in 1884, 29,000. In 1878, after a lapse of only forty-four years, there were 75,274. Mr. and Mrs. Flynn of Sidney, O., had. been married only a few days when, in the middle of the night, the husband thought he heard a burglar hiding under the bed. He arose quietly and annedhimself with a shotgun. The bride was asleep, with ?ne of hev feet banging oyer the i edge of the bed. Flynn saw the foot, ana thought it was the burglar's face. The light was dim, and the foot mar have been uncommonly large. He fired, shooting away three of Mrs. Flynn's toes. Of the 52,756,128 bushels of grain received at-the six Atlantic seaports the first four months of the year, New Tork received 24,952,957 bushels, or 46.6 per cent.; Baltimore, 11,947,700 bushels, or 21.8 per cent.; Philadelphia, 11,558,890 bushels, or 21.1 per cent.; Boston, 4,972,552 bushel?, or 9.1 per cent.; Portland, 1,579,821 bushels, or 2.8 per cent, and Montreal, 45,208 bushels, or i less than 0.1 per cent. The receipts at i New Orleans hive been about the same as Boston. i In oertain portions of our "Weetern Elams, great - sinks," as they are called, ave at times taken place. Few of them nan oomnare. however, with one that occurred near the village of Draguignan, in the department of Var, abont forty j mites north of Toulon, France. There, one day, an area of more that 10,000 square faet sank suddenly to a depth of 100 feet. The bottom of the hole thus formed was soon covered with water; the hole itself is of an oval form. From the sndden appearance of water at the bottom* it is supposed that the ground had been previously undermibded by a subterranean watercourse, which seems , the more likely, since there is a record of a similar occurrence thece about a century ago. Borne curious statements and calculations lately appeared in the London Times correspondence as to the popular notion of high numbers, such as millions, billions, and trillions. Mr. Bessemer said .that he did not think any dear conception of a billion could be formed. Other correspondents gave the following facts: A single thickness of ii- - a . sovereigns spread over me nuor ui a room seventy-one feet six inches square is almost exactly one million. If, instead of being neatly laid in rows, the sovereigns are placed as closely as possible, a million will just cover the floor of a room sixty-seven feet six inches square. Mr. M. Hawkins Johnson writes: "The difficulty of comprehending the idea of a billion is scarcely so great as Mr. Bessemer would have us suppose. A shot one-tenth of an inch in'diameter is an idea readily grasped. It would take exactly one million of such shots to make a ball ten inches in diameter, and a billion of such dhots would make a globe eighty-three feet four inohes in diameter, which, although it may be called large, is not beyond ordinary comprehension." Mr. Lock wood writes: "In addition to Mr. Bessemer's dissection of a billion, it may be mentioned that fifteen persons may dine together a billion times without twioe sitting in the same relative position." - Fashion Notes. China crape fichus tied on the breast are the favorite wraps with young ladies. A new dress trimming is velvet out in lace pattern and embroidered with ool orea sue. Bonnets are trimmed without drooping Sowers or ribbons, and are very compact in appearance. The stylish jacqueminot red, darker than cardinal, is much used for trimmings of satin or of ribbon. White satin vests are worn with blaok grenadines, which are trimmed with black and white lace. Many rich costumes have the sash drapery, revers upon the corsage, and cuffs elaborately embroidered in colors. The great question now for the dressmaker, in making the intricate princess dresses, is " where to put the pocket." Dressing sacques are made with a trench baok, a single dart in front, and ornamented with bows of light-colored ribbon. Cambric dresses are now made up with as muoh pretension to being a la mode, as are toilettes of far more expensive materials. Cambric oostumes have basques, overskirts and demi-train underskirts, whic^ latter are finished with two or three wn ffl no puaicu x uiuooi For young women no feathers are bo popular as the soft willow olusters tipped with gold or with straw. In their dressy evening toilets these feathers are white instead, and are dipped with pearl beads. Plain black bonnets have a plaited bias sciurf of bourrette grenadine around the crown; this is either black or beige, and the strings are black satin, with old gold lining. Some yellow flowers are Almost universal on black chips. The fashionable round hat for very young ladies to wear with short dresses on the street is a chip Derby with an nor a ton tr> thfi nrftwn. and fnr trim ming only a wide band of galloon and a binding to matoh; some stipk in the band a wing or a bird's breast, or a short banoh of ostrich feathers. Monday, while one of our office boys was at work at his case setting type, a full-fledged potato bug made its appearance and began crawling up towards the copy. After getting in close proximity to the MSS. he stopped and seemed to be deeply interested. It seems almost incredible that this bug oould not wait until Thursday to find out where the potato fields are looa.ed.~ Avon Herald. " How nicely this corn pops !" said a young man who was sitting with his sweetheart before the fire. " Yes," she responded, demurely, " It's got orerjbei ing green. items or interest. -t n Dead letters?D K a A hard case?Turtle shelL Isn't it murder to kill time ? a A joinf. affair?Rheumatism. ? Philadelphia has twenty hospitals. 'M The lawyer's paradise?Sioux City. g A pattern woman?The dressmaker. I Mr. Sitting Ball talks of going into I bankruptcy?Assets, scalps. 1 An unpleasant sort af Arithmetic,? I Division among families. . fl Oat meal is far richer in flesh-fonpers I than ordinary wheaten flour. ft Moraiug milk will often be poorer in 1M total solids than evening milk. 1 Parents with a large family, all boys, I can look on the sonny side of life. .M Pea-soup is one of the most eoonomi- 1 cal and nutritious 'articles of diet. 1 Sea-otters kiss each other, and die 1 with grief at the Idas of their young. I When a mart loses five dollars he most J advertise if He wants to gee a soens-oi re. < When does an M. O. display most | physical strength? When he "moves" J the house. : - : v, >^| A statistician says that every man eats, on an average, eight bushel* at wkoai^Jj per annum. J "Stuck up, but not proud," said Ami 1 butterfly, as he was pinned to the side ] of the show-case. In every profession there im dvsw^ room at the top. The big peaches isfp? box find it out first. j Musquito, fold thy weaiy wingB and 1 cross thy legs upon thy breast; put *p thy bills and horns and things, ana sink into thy final rest! Charley Birdsail, a little Troy (N. j boy, pat a button in his ear, and died i from that cause, all attempts to dislodge the intruding object proving futile. ' Fifty-one metals are known to exist, ''' thirty of whioh are known to have been discovered within the present oentnry. Poor hundred yean ago bat sewn were :j known. On being asked why he went into bankruptcy, he replied: "Well, toy liabilities were large, my inabilities nam* eroufl, and my probabilities nnpromia- .? iag; and so I thodghi I'd do as my neighbors do." "Mamma, do yon know what is the largest species of ants ? Yon shake your head. Well, I_will tell yon. .Tbegp I eiepn-ants." xnen mammaaaat "jot dear, I can give you a question to maten '' thai Can you tell me what' relative fck } very undesirable ? You believe not ' Well, it is a carb-unole." The physicians of Baltimore have been tiring to decide whether a doctor may * advertise in the newspapers without degrading the profession. It might have been urged against advertising, that the man who doesn't advertise always has * more time for solitary communion with h\9hoc)^~NewHavenRegitter. ^ It is a curious fact that Shakespeare's . allusions to fish are most numerous in the various parts of "Henry IV.w In his other plays he mentions herring I /wven times, eel four, luce twice, pike v once, salmon, cod, trout, minnow, twioe each; mackerel, gurnard,daoe, gudgeon, loach, tench, and shark onoe each. The ancient Egyptians possessed the art of cutting cameos to a degree of nicety which we are utterly unable t> r approximate. They knew the relative diameters of the earth and moon. They TMMBAflsedthe art of tempering copper bo as to cat the hardest granite. ' Thia.. is a lost art to lis. Nero, the Egyptian ' engineer, is said to have made a steam engine. * The telescope owes its discovery to an , accident Two little- boys, sou of a spectacle maker in Holland, while their father was at dinner chanced to look at a distant steeple through two eye-glasses, placed one before the other. -" They found the steeple brought much nearer the shop windows. They told their grther the cdroumstanoe and it led to a course of experiments which ended in the teleeoope. : The wooden leg used by Benedict Arnold, the notorious man of Bevolutiotf- . ary times, is now the property of Dr. Jerome Whitcomb, a resident of Bostoo, Mass., who received it from a man on his death-bed, who oonfessed that one | of his relations had robbed Arnold's | grave, and that the wooden pedal appendage had been stolen "for the fun of; | the thing," and kept in the family as a carious article that readied jremem; b ranees to the various members of the familv of the days of their ancestors. I Samuel Kearney was physically the best man in Mendota, Illinois. His strength and endurance were remarkable, and his powers gained for him the . office of oo as table. Mrs. Sheahan, a young widow, was almost equally famous as an athlete. These two werecoupled in oourtship, and the appropriateness of their pairing seemed dear; yet it lead- to a fearful tragedy. Kear ney was overbearing in his eonduct, and one day he attempted, playfnlly at flnt, to compel Mrs. Sneahan to sit in a chair* She resisted, and the athletic lovers were . soon engaged in an angry struggle^ Kearney was unable to overcome the powerful woman by fair means, and, ht. ~ a frenzy of rage, he shot at her, chaaefrher out of the nonso, and killed her with _ " 1 ?f""'" nnmmittiwl niifiidfi ' . a miiic. xucu no ? BEE-KEEPEB 8 ASSOCIATION. Come where the clover Is kissed by the son; Come where the honey-bees drowsily ham; ... Come where the humble-bee, happy old thing, Brings up the boys with s sting-a-ling ting! Precious old bumble-bee, bird of my youth, Sharper thy tail than the arrows of truth. How oft, when the school-boy steps into yoiif realm, .* You knock him stone blind with a touch of your helm. How oft, when the yicnicing chMren of ; men Sit do wn at the door of your grass-cowed den, ? You will kick a big man 'crossa ten acre lot Be the lift of your foot when its heated Yed hot! Far worse than the candidate's buzzing to ma Was the petulant buzz of the boy-hating bee; Appalling to men and to gods was the Bight * When a hard footed boy got a bumble-bee * bite. Bee of the humble, like memory's ohimes*: ' The notes of your bagpipe call up the: on times: * And still boyish hearts, light as birds on. the Will howi when 70a tinkle yoar rting-a-Ung ting. Jhirlinaton Hawkeye. State Fairs. The following places and dates are appointed foc?tate fairs to t>e held next - autumn : . American Institute, New YortSept. II/Not. 23 California, Sacramento '.Sept 16, 21 Colorado, Denver .v Sept. Connecticut, Hartford.- .-8ept 10ji3 Dakota, ..0ept? 10,18 Georgia, Macon ... * Illinois, Freeport rSenT.ltV^l Indiana, Indianapolis Sept. 30", Oat 3 Iowa. Cedar Rapids .Sept. 16, 20 Michigan. Detroit .... Sept 18, 20 Minnesota, Minneapolis.... Sept. 2, 7 Missouri, Madis in Sept. 9, 18 Nebraska, Lincoln..*. Sept 23, 27 New England, Worcester, Maaa.,,.Bept. .3,, 6 New Jersey,. waverly '. Sept 16, 30 Now York, Elmira ... Sept 9,' 18 Ohio Colnmbus Sept 9,13 Oregon, Salem? -..Oct 10, 18 St Louis Association, 8t. Leuia,Mo.Oct. 7, 12 Texas, Austin tJ,'. .Oct 28, Not. 2 Texas. Houston...V.' Oct 22, 26 Virginia, Richmond. .; Oct 29, Nof. 1 Wisconsin, Madison :. Sopt 9, IS