The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, July 17, 1878, Image 1
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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. |
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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