The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, December 18, 1878, Image 1

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ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER. || BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1878. NO. 28. VOLUME XXVI^^H Reairs Farewell. Written the day before he oommitted suicide. ] '' JDe mortuis nil nisi bonum." When For me the end has como and I am dead, And littlo voln'Jf. ch itterir p <7:tv8 of men Peck at me curiDusly, let it then be said In some one bravo enough to apeak the truth: Here lieB a great soul killed by cruel wrong. Down all the balmy days of his fresh youth To his bleak, desolate noon, vdth sword and song And speech that rushed up hotly from the heart, He wrought for liberty; till his own wound (He had been stabbed), concealed with painful art Through wasting years, mastered him and he swooned, Anil sank there where you see him lying now With that word "Failure" written on his brow. Bat say that he succeeded. If he missed World's honors and world's plaudits and the wage Of the world's o'ef; lacqueys, still his hps were kissed Daily by those high angels who assuage The thiretings of the poets?for he was Born onto singing?and a burden lay Mightily on him, and he moaned because He oould not rightly utter to this day What God taught in the night Sometimes, nathlesp, Power fell upon him, and bright tongues of flame, And blessings reached him from poor souls in stress, And benedictiouB from black bits of shame And little children's love, and old men's prayers, And a Ureal Hand tnat lea nim unawares. So be died rich. And if his eyes were blurred Witt thick films?silence ! he is in his grave. Greatly he suffered; greatly, too, he erred, Yet broke his heart in trying to be brave. Nor did he wait till freedom had bocome The popular shibboleth of oonrtier's lips; * But smote for her when God Himself seemed domb And all his arching skies were in eclipse. He was a-woary, but he fought his fight And stood for* simple manhood, and was joyed To see the august broadeniDg of tbe light And new earths heaving heavenward from the void. He loved his fellows, and their love was sweetPlant daisies at his bead and at his feet. LISBETH'S'MISSIONARY. * "The butcher's bill, papa!" Outside the locusts were piping shrilly among the blue cups of the morningglory vines ; the bland September sunshine steeped everything in yellow brightness. Within, the country parson sat at his desk, with divers and sundry sheets of sermon-paper scattered before him, half a dozen reference books open at his elbow, and his head clasped tightly between his two hands, after a fashion whioh involved considerable rumpling of his iron-gray hair. ??Eh ?" said the parson, letting his head, as it were, out of custody, and ooming slowly down from the world of polemics, as he stared at the pretty, slender girl in faded calico and washedout ribbons, who stood beside him with an ominous-looking piece of paper in her hand. 41 The batcher's bill, papa," said Polly Fenn ; "and he's waiting, please." "But, my dear"?the parson laid down his pen, and took the bill into his hand with a puzzled air?" we've had no batcher's meat thiB month. We have striven to be ia the last degree economical" ' Yes, I know, papa," said Polly, knittiDg her pretty brows; " but we ordered three pounds of steak the day the district missionaries dined here, and there was tho joint for that Sabbatarian society day, and the evening the bishop was here? don't you remember ?" "I remember, my ohild?I remember," said the country parson, with a sigh. "Hospitality is an agreeable duty, and one that' the good book enjoins upon us, but it costs money, Polly?it costs money. Put down the bill, ohild, and tell Neighbor Brisket that 1 will attend to it at my earliest oonven. ienoe." Still blue-eyed Polly hesitated. " And the grooer was here this morning, papa, and the account has really mounted up beyond everything. And he says that he hopes you will please to settle at once, and that herealter he has deter mined to do business only on a strictly cash basis." The Reverend Mr. Fenn smiled a (riokly smile. "Then I am afraid, Polly," said h>\ 41 that he won't do mnch business with me. For as long as the vestry are so dilatory with their payments "? "Yes, papa, that's just what I told him," said Polly; "but he says that business is business." ."He is right, my dear," said the parson, " and I am wrong ; but it is through no fault of mine. Now run away, and leave me to my books." Polly Fenn silent'y withdrew, with her pretty brows still knitted, as if she were utterly hopeless of comprehending the problem of the world's way. The butcher, white-aproned and burly, stoou at the door, a living impersonation of the fate which Polly could neither ignore nor avert. " Well, miss ?" said the butcher. " Papa will attend to it at his enr'.itbt convenience, Mr. Brisket," faltered Polly. "But his earliest convenience has been such a mortal long time a comin', miss," grumbled Mr. Brisket. "And . ' times is dull, and I've got notes to meet." " I'm very sorry, Mr. Brisket, but"? " 'Tain't no good standin* here," said the batcher, irritablv scratching his head. "I might ha' knowed what answer I should ha' got afore I crossed the threshold. But it's hard on a poor man, that's what it is, and them as calls themselves gentry hadn't ought to eat if they can't pay. I'll call again this day week, miss, and then And with this the butcher whisked himself away under the arch of morning-glory vines, where the locusts were singing, and the pink and purple cups swung to and fro in the morning wind. And Polly, with crimson cheeks and heart beating with vague resentment, turned back into the great sunshiny kitchen, where Lisbeth was swaying nervously to and fro in the splint-bottomed rocker, with a week-old newspaEsr in her hand, her yellow hair catchg the sunbeams like a coronal of gold as she rocked. " Lisbeth," said the elder sister, austerely, "are the wild grapes ready for preserving." "Wild grapes?" repeated Lisbeth, flinging the newspaper into the window 4.. It V L?41 " L JittVOU b bilUU^llb U1 bUOIU OiJLAUO you went away. Oh, Polly, how I wish we were rich 1" Polly advanced soberly to a flat wicker tray of clustered grapes, full of subtle perfume, and dusted over with pale bloom, and began to separate them from their stems with deft, quick fingers. "Why?" said she. "I would go to New York and see this new play," said Lisbeth, still swaying back and forth in the splint-bottomed rocker. "Olivia was a country parson's "daughter, and so are we. I if" r'*if" i i''iTiaiWi>BffiilMri8lh atiiartl should like to see my own counterfeit presentment on tbe stage." "Nonsense," said Polly. "You had better come here and help with these grapes." ! " It's such wretched business to be poor 1" said Lisbeth. She was a sparkling little creature, after the hummingbird style of damBel, with yellow hair curling over her forehead, intense hazel brown eyes, and a small red mouth with dimples hovering shyly in its neighbor! hood. " Just look at us, Polly, you and me, two gills of nineteen and seventeen, that ought to be enjoying ourselves and having a good time, and here we are, washing and scrubbing, and turning wretched rags of dyed silk, and cleaning faded ribbons, and counting every pound of rice and every potato ! Even these wild grapes, Polly, that you and I gathered down by the edge of the ! swamp, -we shouldn't venture on the ex! travagance of preserving them, if Mrs. I Deacon Blodgett hadn't offered to supply the sugar on halves. Oh, I do hate this life! Even Brisket the butcher : thinks he can insult us -with impunity." ; "Yes," said Polly, thoughtfully, " we ; mustn't order any more meat at pres; ent" " But we must live," flashed out Lis; beth. . "There is salt maokerel," said Polly, "and eggs, and vegetable soups, and Mrs. Pullett always sends us a nice cut of pork and some fresh sausages when they kill their pig. Oh, we shall get get along somehow, Lisbeth; anything is better than debt." Lisbeth looking up with sparkling eyes. " Polly," cried she, " why don't they j increase papa's salary ? Six hundred dollars a year is a shameful pittance for such a man as he is." Polly shook her head over the grapes. I "Papa isn't a young man any longer, I Lisbeth," said she, " and he isn't as 1 modfirn in his ideas as Mr. Crocus." " Bat he is Buch a learned man," cried out Lisbeth, shaking the yellow mane out of her eyes. " And his sermons? oh, Polly, they make me cry, they are so deep and so solemn, and go down into one's heart so ! Six hundred dollars a year, Polly, for such work and study as that 1" " There is no doubt," said Polly, soJ berly, " but that clergymen are,as a general rule, very much underpaid in this country." | "I shall never marry a clergyman," | cried Lisbeth, with energy. " No, Polj ly, never! I'd marry a du6t-man first 1 j For dust-men get their pay, and clergy! men don't, and "? Lisbeth stopped short, scarlet and I confused, in this rhapsody of hers, for, chancing to glance up, she beheld in the doorway a tall and solemn-faced young man, with an umbrella in one hand and a traveling eachel in the other. " We don't want anything, please," said she, jumping at once to the conclusion that she beheld a book agent, or a vender of patent polish, or some such itinerant tradesman. " I beg your pardon," said the gentleman, apparently as much embarrassed | as was she herself; " I must have mis; taken the houBe. I was looking for the | Reverend Francis Fenn!" " My good gracious ! another misI sionary," murmured Lisbeth, sotto-voce, | as Polly stepped graciously forward, ; saying: "You are not mistaken, sir; this is I the house. Please to walk into tho pari lor, and I will speak to papa." The best room of the parsonage was | cool and dark, with green paper shades j drawn down, a jar of fragrant dried rose ' leaves in the fire-place, and a homebraided rug of parti-colored cloth laid I careiuny aown Deiore me eoia iu uiue j the darned spot in the carpet. " Not that chair, please," said Polly, coloring up to the roots of her hair, as ! the unwary stranger advanced toward n , certain corner ; " the leg is broken and ; we've glued it, and I'm afraid it's not qnite safe. This one is better." ; While Lisbeth, hiding her face in her , apron, murmurs to herself, " Is there no ; end to our humiliations ? Is our world j always to be full of glue and patches, ; and mends and make-shifts ?" | "Lisbeth," said Polly, returning, i "go and call papa." "It's another missionary, I'm sure," j said Lisbeth, unwittingly pulliDg down the sleeves of her brown calico dress. " And I know he'll Btay to dinner, and he's got a hungry glare in his eyes, and there's nothing for dinner but barley soup and a cabbage. Oh dear !" with a grimace which made Polly laugh in spite of herself, "I wish the race of missionaries was extinct." The oountry parson looked mildly up j from the second paragraph of his j " Thirdly " as Lisbeth came in, smelling ; of wild grapes, with an aureole of yellow j hair about her face. v. ; " Papa," said she, " there's a gentleman in the parlor to see you, with a carpet-bag and a white necktie !' j " Ah 1" said the clergyman. " A i visitor, I suppose. He is most welcome. ! But I am just at present deep in the | thread of a complicated polemio theory. | Make my compliments to the gentleman, ; Lisbeth, and beg his indulgence for a i quarter of an hour or bo." And the 1 parson dipped his pen into the time! stained wooden standish. as if he was | determined to settle the subject at once. ! " But, papa !" Liabeth had caught at : his coat cuff to reclaim him temporarily i from the abysses of theological argument "Yes, my dear," looking absently at her. "Do you think he'll stay to dinner?'' "1 shall invite him, my dear, most j assuredly." Lisbeth's countenance fell. " But' i papa," faltered Bhe, " there's nothing I but barley soup." " We will serve it with good oldi fashioned sauce of welcome, my dear," | said the Reverend Mr. Fenn, with a grave, sweet Bmile, " and I doubt not it will suffice." Lisbeth flounced out of the room with a heightened color and quick, impatient breath. "Papa's an angel," said she to herself, "but angels never were adapted to get along in this worka-day world." She put her golden head into the parlor door for an instant. " Papa is very busy with his 4 Thirdly' " said she, with a roguish twinkle in the deep hazel eyes, "and he begs you'll be good enough to wait until he's through." The stranger bowed, and looked more embarrassed than ever, as he answered : " Oh, oertainly, certainly. I am in no haste whatever." And Lisbeth went back to her sister. "Polly," said she, " what will we do. Company to dinner, and nothing to give them." " But we must have something," said Polly. " Put on your things, Lisbeth. Go out and buy a fowl, and a quart of potatoes, and a loaf of bread. And stop at Mr. Dakin's for an ounce of his best tea and a quarter of a pound of butter." Lisbeth opened her eyes very wide at this extravagant order. " Oh, yoa reckless Polly 1" said she ; "and -where are all the funds to come from ?" Polly sighed softly. '* I shall have to take the dried-cherry money," said she, " that I was saving up fpr my fall i hat and gloves. Bat it isn t much matter. I dare say I can manage very well pith the old ones for a little while ' longer." " IV? a shane I" cried Idsbeth, ve hemently. "And to think how you toiled all those hot summer days to pick ! and dry those black ox-hearts." "There's no help for it, dear," said 1 Polly, gently. "Get your hat on quick Mi ?there's no time to lose." the " But it isn't fair," protested Lisbeth. be " Why should all the traveling preach- if t era and book agents and mission collec- Bh< tors come here and eat us out of house ma and home ? Why don't they go to Mr. buI Crocus ?" ten Polly smiled. "Because Mr. Crocus reo doesn't make them welcome, and papa does," said she. bic " I do wonder," cried Lisbeth. im- tinj petuously, "if there is any other race ^8 of men imposed upon as country min- Pfti istera are? Mark my words, Polly, I te* never, never, will marry a"? sod But by this time Polly had tied on wal her sister's straw flat, and twisted a be muslin scarf across her shoulders. fen "Do make haste, dear," said she, in exp accents of gentle entreaty, as she point- * ed upward to the dock. 8t?: Sfarrtfllv flftpfin minutes had elaDBed I when Lisbeth came flying baok, with re^ yellow tresses streaming behind, and aQc market-basket in her hand. twe "There, Polly," oried she, in the or^ clear, light voioe of girlhood, as she de- Th< posited a plump chicken on the table, the "there's jonr new hat; and khere," as ove she laid down a packet of groceries, pla ".are your gloveB; and here," rattling hui out the potatoes, "is my last chanoe for the a new blue neck-tie! And I do hope, ^ Polly, that they'll give the missionary I11 ! the worst kind of dyspepsia," ! in " Lisbeth ! " 1 nee "Well, but I do," saucily retorted not the girl, as she turned to put away her one hat. * " And? Oh, Pol-ly! " fow Polly turned around with a start, at fcicl the changed tenor of her sister's voice. ?pi "What is it, Lisbeth? You're not at1 ill ?" iehi Lisbeth, with a glowing face, pointed ^4 to the little wooden cupboard in the ^ wall, which, extending through from na? parlor to kitchen, in butler's-pantry ^ fashion, was used as a general repository ^e for books and papers. And then, for the first time, Pollj peroeived that both *bl doors were slightly ajar. ?aD " Polly," muttered the girl, hoarsely, "01 " he has heard every word! He couldn't 01} help it." And flinging her hat in one P*1 direction, and her scarf in another. Lis- . ? beth fled up the narrow wooden stairs t0 to her own room, and threw herself, ?Te sobbing hysterically, upon the bed. *L1S "It's my tongue," sobbed Lisbeth, "mywretched,chattering tongue. Papa *CK always warned me against giving Ioobo j?8e to it; Polly always told me it would get me into trouble. Oh, dear, dear, what j?" muBt he think ? how can I ever look him in the face ?" And with this doleful resume, Iiisbeth buried her hot face in the pillows, and cried harder than ever. ~e' It seemed an age to her, but it was in J?8* reality little more than half an hour, before Polly came fluttering up the J-ai stairs, like a sweet-browed guardian B?f' angel. at "Lisbeth," said she, "darling, don't <3^ fret?you meant no harm. Get up and Bta, braid your hair, and com? down stairs. ^t] Dinner will be on the table directly, jng and papa is asking for yon." the Lisbeth sat up and pushed the damp fringe of yellow hair out of her eyes. f00( "I shall not come down, Polly." bro " Bat you must, dear ; papa would be c very much vexed." " maj " Never 1" oried Lisbeth, with a fresh burst of tears; " never I" ' tryj But the country parson himself j8 B presently came to the rescue, with mild hav eyes and a firm, gentle voioe. pjei "No member of my family must be mi3 lacking in courtesy to a guest," said he, tine taking Lisbeth gently by the hand ; voi, and the poor child was led shamefaced- thie ly into the kitchen, where the table was ye spread, and Polly stood smiling at its q head. gCrj "Mr. Vincent," said the parson to jna) the tall stranger, this is my youngest ejtv child." of " I am the black sheep of the family," we? said Lisbeth, hanging her head, " and ]ow I'm very sorry, Bir, and I beg your fag pardon." "Pray don't mention it," said Mr. tjn"( Vincent, in genuine distress at the sight 0f of the mortification of this yellow-hair- waj ed lassie with the deep hazel eyes and 0UI the red, sensitive month. j^e And when dinner was over?and here j w let ns mentfon that Mr. Vincent ate and i an<3 drank with an excellent appetite, as if j ^ no larking shadow of the threatened | 0f ? dyspepsia disturbed his digestion?and ancj the country parson had taken his gueBt ^ho into the study, Polly put her arm p0r around Lisbeth's waist, and drew her pei] ont under the morning-glory vines, fuj where, by this time, the blue and rose- jjij tinted cups had all folded themselves b|0 into tight little parasolettes, and hidden aw? | behind the leaveB. q "Lisbeth," said she, I've got good news for you." ; bat "Nothing can be good news any ^nr i more," said Lisbeth, with a fresh buret ev 1 of tears. wa( " Oh, but listen," soothed Polly. <] " Do you know who this Mr. Vincent I wit " A?missionary, I Buppose." And : j0(j | poor .Lisbeth spoke the word as u it was b0J I a dose of quinine. ! 0f " No, dear, he's the bishop's secre- I _0j tary. And he has heard of papa's learn- j |j0? ing and zeal and talent, and he has come | to offer him a parish near New York, ! with twelve hundred dollars?only think ! of it, Lisbeth !?twelve hundred dollars , a year and an assistant. We Bhall be ^ rich, darling, and dear, dear papa will I *er have a little rest and ease in his old j *r0 age." S "It can't be true," said Lisbeth, et*, vaguely. 8^ "But it is," said Polly; and then the B*? two sisters began to cry and sob, with Pr< happy incoherence, in each other's arms, j f16 * | toi "Is it possible," cried Polly Fenn, me "that it is a whole year since we came un to Moreham rectory ?" hu It was a year. Once more the wild pr< grapes were scenting all the woods; once 001 more the golden-rod held up its torches pai of flame along the coarse of babbling on brooks, and Polly shaded her eyes with ha one hand, as she stood in the doorway thj and watched Lisbeth come lightly along olc the garden path, with the yellow sun- wo shine tangled in her hair, and an un- Bt wonted moisture in her deep eyes. fei " "What have you done with Mr. Yin- to cent ?" asked Polly, demurely. an "He is walking down by the falls oai with papa," said LiBbeth, coming up to a i her sister's side, and slipping one arm be through Polly's. " And, Polly"? ur rlnoroaf 9" TT1 ( iioii) uyiuvov t " I?I have something to tell you." th "Couldn't I guess it?" said Polly, pi< laughing. " No, Lisbeth, don't turn th: your face way?I know it all, darling, mi He loves you, and you have promised to jo? be his wife." "Polly," said Lisbeth, "I think you wi must be a fortune-teller. Bat, oh ! I am so happy ! and I can hardly believe ev that it isn't all a dream." 'But, Lisbeth"? Well?" P? 'I thought you were never, never, *1 going to marry a"? kii But Lisbeth's soft little hand pressed |h over her sister's mouth, and her plead- h.e ingly uttered, "Please, Polly, don't," stopped the sentence ere it was finished. And Polly was merciful, and didn't. be Monev makes the morego, steam M makes the oargo, and the. sight oI the Ai RHEOMATISM. A Pew Words by a Family Doctor. Ln English physician says in CasaelV igazine: I would strongly ad vis >se who are subject to rheumatism t< very careful what they eat and drink here be any form of dyspepsia, tha >uld at once be seen to. Often rheu tic people are weak in the stomach )ject to acidity and flatulence. Tht iptation to take antaoids for the cor tion of the acidity is often great, am ients will dose themselves with th; arbonate of soda and potash, forget g that these alkalies are very weaken In severe cases of heartburn thi n and distress must be relieved by i spoonful or two of bioarbonate o la, in a large tumblerful of lukewara ier; soon after, the fauces had bette: tickled with a feather, when the of ding contents of the stomach will b< elled. Jut tone ought to be given to th< tnach by some such medicine as the owing: Take of the tinoture of ohita four drama, of the citrate of iroi I quinine one dram, and of watei live ounces. The dose is one ounce, ;wotablespoonfuls, three times a day, 3 quantity as well as the quality ol food should be studied. Nevei r-eat?rather adopt the old-fashionec n of getting up from the table a little igry ; but let what you do eat be ol best and nourishing. Avoid beei 1 most wines. Solid food is less apt, my opinion, to produce acidity, bul winter roups may be used ; these d not be too strong, and certainly clarified. I shall merely mentior i?it is made of the broth of boiled 1 (or good stock), thickened with ar lokes; it is just the soup, in mj nion, for the rheumatio, and deservet ial in cold weather; it is very nonring, easy of digestion, not at all likeo produce flatulence, and it also pos sea medicinal qualities of a diuretic ore. food sleep at night is invaluable tc rheumatic, especially during painful icks, when sedatives will in all problif.v Via r?flp/?arl hnfc lflfc thfl lflasi gerons be first tried. Some preparei of henbane, or hops, or evenopimr norphia may be required to ease the 11 and induce sleep. Between the tcke the rheumatic subject has a dutj himself to perform; he must dc rything in his power to strengthen system, both nervous and muscular, ircise is invaluable, because the more 1 there is eliminated by the skin, the ! will be left to poison and hamper blood ; for the same reason, a Turkbath occasionally will do good, il re be no affection of the heart and nc dency to apoplexy; but in no case nld the tepid salt water sponge-bath omitted every morning before breakfollowing its use with well rubbing whole body with a rough towel. The rkish bath, I may add, is often ol rice in removing the pain of "bad tcks." feed I remind the reader of the ger of sudden chills, of sitting or iding in drafts, of getting wet feel bout soon changing the socks, of go long on an empty stomach ; or ol benefits of regular living, wearing mel, eating good and wholesome :1, and last, but not least, of lightwn cod liver oil ? >f special medicines for chronic rkeu;ism, the first that comes into my id is colchicum. It is alwayB wortli ng, both in gout and rheumatism. It edative and laxative, and seems tc e a beneficial action on the liver. Ae asant a way as any of taking it is tc : the dose?say fifteen drops of the :ture?with a teaspoonful each of sal itile and compound orange tincture : i to be used thrice daily in half a botof soda water. luaiacam I am more chary in probing through these columns, as it is Jmissible where there is a tendency ler to fullness of blood or irritability the digestive canal, but for old or ik people such a mixture as the foling may often be given with advane, two tablespoonfuls to be taker ce a day: Take of ammoniated jtureof guaiacum one ounce, tincture aconite one dram, gum tragacantL er and oamphor water of each eight ices. I am strangely tempted to give reoipe for the " Chelsea pensioner.'1 ill. Here he goes, the old rascal, [ much good he has done: Take twc ms of rhubarb powder, two ounces inlnhnr an nil nr. a of cream of tartar. i a dram of guaiacnm resin ; mis roughly, then stir the whole into a ind of honey (it used to be treacle the isioner got). Now, if a desert-spoonof this be taken night and morning, it is all used, it will purify both od and akin, and most likely scarf iv the rheumatism. ?ne Acetea racemosa is much extol in America, and especiaily for lum ;o in women. The dose of the tine e is from thirty drops to a dram iry three or four hours, in a litth :er, until nausea ensues. Che iodide of potassium is extremeh iful in many cases ; it should be givei h a tonic and sedative, thus: Take o ide of potassium thirty grains, bicar late of potash three drams, tinctun henbane four drams, and infusion o low bark up to twelve ounces. Thi ie is two tablespoonfuls twice o ice daily. Au Alligator's Tidbits. Llligators must have singular habits narks a New York paper, judging m one recently killed in one of th< ers of Florida. Having been dissect there were found in his stomach twi r fish, each three feet long, six flint nes worn smooth as glass, two cy 388 knees, four pine knots, two frag ints of bricks, several yards of cot i cloth, two volumes of public doou intsand a small hand-saw. We cai derstand why he might have beei ngry for flint-stones, hand-saws, cy 2bs knees and pine knots, but how h< lid have bolted the public document 3ses comprehension. A whale, latel; exhibition in Cincinnati, proved t< ve swallowed a broken beer bottle 3 bottoms of two glass tumblers, ai I boot, a screw-driver, a discards istcoat and three or four jack-knives it these are presumed to have inter ed so seriously with his digestion a cause his premature demise. Ai topsy was held to determine th rise of his death, which is no longe nysterv. It is thought that a num r of Cincinnatians, ignorant of nat al history, fed him with the article mtioned, under the impression the a huge fish regarded them as delica ?. They should remember hereafte at both Ouvier and Buffon say thai ich as whaleB in tneir natural state en f glass tumblers and screw-drivers oc Bionally, they do not thrive on thei len given as regular diet. The all tor, on the contrary, flourishes o ery thing. Mr. Longfellow, in his oharaoter c >et, has had some ourions guenti lere was the man who went to than m for writing "Break, Break, Break; e woman who had read his poems j r girlhood and hadn't seen thei ice;the man who "was one of tb w that read'The Pendulum;'" tb renchman who wanted to know if thi is the house where Shakspeare wj ?m, and the English man wh thought that as there were no ruins j nerica, be would Call and see yoi SHRIMPS. FA A Very Curious Industry on San Franciac 8 Bay. ] 0 Of the thousands who prefaoe their din meals by a dish of appetising shrimps, coi ; how few realize the vast amount of pa- aJi| t tient labor expended in getting the inex- onJ - pensive shellfish so temptingly placed be- the ? fore them ; and of those who awkwardly . fru > attemptto twist and pull off the indigesti- the ble covering, how many imagine the is1 1 existence of a process whereby the shells not 9 may be taken from tons of shrimps - almost as quickly as the unpracticed ran - hand can strip a plateful ? Yet it is a Pos 3 fact that such a process has been per- fre * fected, and, as usual, where large profits *-,e t 1_ J- 1 1 a.1 i. _r flia * uau ue inaue umy oy me payment 01 1 minimum wages to laborers, the Chinese nec r have secured a monopoly of the buai- the - ness. and 3 On the shores of the Bay of San Fran- fr?' cisco over five hundred Chinamen are fli8t 5 engaged in catohing and curing shrimps. W&1 J There are six camps on the Potrero side, c^e near the bone factory, composed of ?fc i twelve men each. Six more, with an ?f & ' equal number of occupants, skirt the twe > shore between Butchertown and Hunt er's Point. Just beyond Hunter's Point ?ha f are two camps of thirty Chinamen each, *7 and at the Eiffht-Mile houee there is one arr? I camp containing forty Chinamen. Each n.ofc 5 camp is a little community of itself, air; f and is governed by a contractor or ??o] "boss," who consigns the cured shrimps dur . I to Chinese commission merchants on the II shares. The contractor, who is generally A i ' the representative of some firm in the tect ' city, furnishes food and clothing to his we? i employees, and the sum paid as wages frui I I is consequently very small. P081 It would, at first thought, in view of wea r the stringent fishery laws in force in ^os i California, seem impossible to snare air shrimpB without catching a considerable f001 quantity of small fish. This difficulty is ^ obviated by selecting a point where Ir^ 5 there is from twelve to twenty fathoms thii of water, and sinking the nets to a level k?P > beneath that usually traversed by fish. l?w L It is, of course, impossible to avoid en- T trapping some of the smaller fish in Btre 1 raising the nets. The nets used are Prei funnel-shaped, and about thirty-six feet dan 1 in length. The diameter at the mouth rea* > is eighteen feet, but it decreases by pl?." > graduations to one foot at the lower ex- n?t r tremity. The mesh is usually half an dry ' inch on the square for a distance of 'wor 1 thirty feet from the orifice, but is less sup than a quarter of an inch in width from an.d ! that point to the smaller end. The time 1 chosen for setting the nets is when the two ' tide is coming in, and they are allowed ^ to remain in the water until after the the ebb. They are then lifted and the con- ??v< 1 tents are taken to land. The camps de- Pe?i > scribed possess thirty-six boats, and five Pa" i men constitute a ci ew. Eaoh boat con- r00^ taina from twelve to fifteen nets, and yeaj ' twenty baskets of shrimps at a single g101 J catch is a fair average. These baskets iate will hold about 150 pounds each. the I After landing, the shrimps are placed the in vats of boiling water, with a fire un- Pro1 1 derneath, and boiled for about half an the hour, being frequently sprinkled with 'win coarse salt. They are then spread out ti ; on hard, dry ground, and left to dry and 6?* ! bleach for three or four days, being fre- ?ut< quently turned. At the expiration of this time the shells, spawn and dirt are aQt ' either detached or in such a dry and ven cracked condition as to be easily re- ce^ moved. A force of Chinamen is then olea got to work tramping the beds of dry j shrimps with their heavy wooden shoes. r?o> ' They go over and over the mass, sliding H t] 1 their feet as does a dancer when he is <x>l<3 1 shuffling over the stage. The tramping ??Q( process concluded, the miscellaneous aD<* mixture is put into a winnowing ma- dew chine, where the shells are separated doei from the meat as perfectly as chaff is from grain. There are three spouts to the the separator, through one of which the m?i whole shrimps are shot into a basket. , J1 The other spouts are used respectively ^ " for the shrimps crushed by the tramp- i? ^ ing and the detached hulls. Thus dried ^0D and skinned, the shrimps are put into in5 bags and sent to the city. A few of them are shipped to China, but owing to the high rate of transportation the export bar trade has not proved profitable. The 8^ai first price of dried shrimps in San Fran- aa0 cisco is from five to eight cents per of ( pound. A sack containing 150 pounds of the undried article will produce from ij eight to ten pounds after the drying ING| process. Before curing, the spot price 0|.j of shrimps is from two to three and a half cents per pound. Delivered to coj{ restaurants, the price is five cents per Bn_ pound. The principal camps of China- j0q men are in the interior towns, where the p 1 shrimns command a hieh figure, and * when 'made into eoup are esteemed a i dainty dish. wat 1 The broken Bhrimps are ground into a ^ru 3 coarse flour, which retails at three to a c] four cents per pound. A use has also wjj.i " been discovered for the shells, and they ma] are shipped exclusively to China. There anj * they are valuable as manure and as a ? poison to the worm which works suoh e(j 3 destruction to the tea plant of that y country. There is nearly as much profit f from the sale of the orushed shells as jn~ 1 from that of the shrimps themselves. ^ * The extent to which the business of ^ * shrimp-catching in the Bay of San Fran- an(] ? cisco has advanced is most remarkable. crei * The amount of business at first hands a 0 will reach 815,000 per month, and new j^i r markets are constantly opening. At cer- jja: tain periods the demand is so great that prc two trips into the bay are made daily, a8 which nearly doubles the amount of , ordinary supply, and necessitates the r i employment of a largo foroe of extra j a I men. The most serious disadvantage of ( the trade is that it can at present be ^ prosecuted only during the dry season, B]jc the rain forbidding the exposure of the tjjr shrimps for drying purposes. ? &an qa) Francisco Bulletin. 0f j mo A Reckless Man. fal While a nuree girl was yesterday ^ drawing a babe along Alfred street she eB_. B was approached by a queer-looking old CQ* b chap, whose month was working as if reE y he wanted to bite somebody. He halted z-n j the cab, chuokled to the child, and , finally said to the nurse : of , 1 " I used to be just such a little angel ma 1 myself. Dear me, how I want to kiss j . Wml" .. thr ? But you can't," replied the girl. s "Ididn't expect to for nothing, of v a course," he continued, feeling in his 0 pocket. " Here is twenty-five cents, vL r young miss. I used to have to pay half - a dollar for kissing 'em, but babies are * ; down now, 'long with everything else." g s She looked around, took the money, it told him to wipe off his mouth, and he i- gave the child a smack which Bounded A ir like a dish pan starting for down cellar, dir ;, An old lady came around the corner as del i- he straightened up, and in response to up ! the sharp look Bhe gave him the old man thi n explained : " Been kissing the baby? hei i- sweet's honey?nicern ice-cream?paid en< n two shillings." inj " What I" she demanded. pic He again explained, "Well, you am )f must have lots of money or else you're do 3. a lunatic I" sho growled. " Pay ttfo as k shillings to kiss a little young 'un like me l'- that when you might have kissed my thi n whole family and the dog to boot for su ii fifteen cents 1 No wonder ypu have to gl; ie wear old clothes 1"?Free Press. igi ie oal it Recent examinations of the Atlantio ve is cable of 1866 show that it is already so ha to oorroded as not tcy be able to sustain its P< in own weight. This seems to fix the lai l, average duration of a cable at about ten th RM, GARDEN AND HOUStiHOI Fruit Rooms. tout cannot long be kept in the i lary cellars under dwellings, and ii lid be, the danger from the ga sing from vegetable decompositi jht to deter us from storing fruit ise rooms. There is less objection it cellars nnder barns and stables, ventilation of stich buildings abc nore complete, and the atmosphere ; only purer, but cooler in sumn 1 winter. If a barn cellar can be i ged on a side hill (fronting south isible), and so isolated that it is ke e from the edors of manore, it m regarded as a favorable location, barn is not thns situated, it will essary to make an excavation in > side of a hill, fronting south -or we [ cover it so as to protect it frc it in winter. The cellar should cc of two apartments, and the partiti 1 may be of brick or stone, as apest or most convenient. The sis sourse, will depend upon the war he fruit-raiser. A frost-proof rooi nty feet square and eight feet hig [ hold the products of a large c rd, and it may be constructed chea Ii two rooms are provided (whi mgement is desirable), the first ne* be frost-proof, but may be open and light. The object is to secure I, airy room in which to store fro ing the late autumn months and in early winter if the weather is mil dark subterranean room, well pr ed, cannot be very dry in modera ther, therefore it is best to ke< t as long as possible in a more e sd and drier room, and when ze ther approaches remove it to tl t-proof apartment at once. Co is always dry air, and the inn n in winter, if properly ventilate lied with the cold, dry air, but abo' zing temperature. The nearest /)n#w?Aaa T?rtV?aif fViA oi'v ijr'iwu x (uiiouuwv iiiiu nu t without remaining at or going b that point, the better. he wails of fruit rooms may be co icted of stone, if connected with far nises where this material is aba t, or of brick where stones cannot 1 lily obtainod. If the stone is ei ped, a mason to lay up the walls rm be necessary, as they may be put t and pointed with oommon mortark whioh any farmer can do. A ro ported by firm timbers is neceesar a space between the rough boa: ing and the roof of one and a half i feet, filled with straw or hny, or di dust, will protect from frost unle climate is very severe. The ro jriog may be of ordinary tarred p well put on with battens, and tb< ited heavily with tar or pitch. Tb if well constructed, will last f rs. It should come as close to tl and as possible. The whole of tl rior room should be protected 1 ground on the rear end and side front jor light room need not be i fcected. This should protrude fro hill, and have at least a couple dows and a door. The ventilatii tie interior or winter room should 1 cted by opening of the inner ai sr doors in mild weather, and alio air to flow in. And here an impoi caution is to be observed?nev tilate or open the doors of the wint ar on very mild, damp days; sele r, dry days, when the thermomet nst above freezing, for airing tl ns. The reason for this is obviou he air of the cellar and stored fruit ler than the admitted external ai lensation of moisture takes plac everything becomes covered wi ', which is injurious to frui$. Tl s not take place on cold, dear daj cautious in the spring in openii inner cellar, as by admitting war at air great injury is done, oi this arrangement for storing fru i kept dry and cool before it is plao rinter quarters. If this dry com i ib secured in mild weather, oxidi influences are kept at bay duri cold weather, and the fruit com in the spring sound and fresh. T rels in which it is stored should r id on end; pile them up one up ther; the ends horizontal.?Jourr Themistry. Household lltnu. o Set the Colors in Ootton Stoc 3 and Calicoes.?Put some sugi ead in tho water to wash color ikings and calicoes, it will set t >r; any druggist will tell how mu ar of-lead should be used in a g of water. 'or Washing Silver.?Put one-h spoonful of hartshorn into the su ?hioh the silver is washed ; have t er hot; wash quickly^ using a sm sh ; rinse in hot water, and dry w: ean linen towel; then rub very d ti a chamois skin. Washed in tl iner, silver becomes very brilliai [requires no polishing with any powders or whiting usually emplt and the silver does not wear out. Whitewash that will Stick. 3 Annapolis Gazette gives the folio as a whitewash that will " stick,": irs and out, and challenges any ,t it. Slake, say one peck of lin [ while hot and at the thickness am, add a quart of linseed oil anc quarter of a pound of gli i it stand half a day Deiore usu ins will not wash it off, nor will ve such a nuisance on interior wa common whitewash. It should, irse, be thinned with water while i , as ordinarily. Ieoipe for Mending Rubber Boo' 3ut virgin, or native India-rnbb h a wet knife, into the thinn ies, and with shears divide these ii eads as fine as fine yarn. Pat a sni mtity of the shreds (say one-tei she capacity of the bottle) into a wii uthed bottle, and fill it three-quart I of benzine of good quality, perfec B from oil. The rubber will swell lost immediately, and in a few da >ecially if often Bhaken, assumes i isistency of honey. If it inclines aain undissolved masses, more b e must be added, but if too thin i tery, it needs more rubber. A pi solid rubber the size of a walnut \ ke a pint of cement. This cem es in a few minutes, and by us; nonnl mfltinnr T CU UUUID AiX IUO uuuui . ite the leather straps, patches, ri soles, backs of boots, etc., with ding firmness. The India-rubb ralcanized, can be obtained at m 7 large rubber store where rubl )ds are sold, and at some drag stor An Explosive Letter, it Zabrze, in Upper Silesia, a let ected to a man named Pelka, to ivered into his own hands, was gii to his wife. Being very large i ck, and fastened with tape, it exei r curiosity. On pulling ono of 3s of the tape for the purpose of op f the letter, there was a frightful >sion. Frau Pelka was thrown dc 3 severely injured, and all the v ws in the house were broken. A3 has been discovered from the fr :nts afterward picked up, it appe it the letter contained some explof tistance, either dynamite or ni pcerine, and a cap and needle for lition, with which the tape comma ted. The author of the orime baa t been caught; but whoever he be, s not given up his intention to deal iLko, for he li&s written a letter to titer's employer threatening to re] e attempt on me me u ne w dqi .oediDBUwed. iD. Natural History In chunks?The Donkey. " What do I see hero ?" {>** " It ifl a donkey, my boy?one of th< ^ largest and finest specimens ever seen.' 868 "Didn't the donkey used to havi ?n wings and fly ?" in "He did; but he was of no accoun to among the birds; he was given two extrn as legs and deprived of his wings." >ve ? Where is he now found ?" i is a Travelers oan hardly run amiss o: ier him wherever they go." " But why does the donkey have sue! " long ears ?" " He was either first intended for t rabbit, or the rabbit was first intended I* for a donkey; and nature could nevei p muy unravel me mysiery. u nia ears were small, like those of a horse, heoould st? not stand and flop them when he had )m an idle hour, and would, perhaps, resort in" to some vicious practice, like oribbing ?.n and kicking." 13 "Is his song anything like the sad !?> notes of the whip-poor-will ?" its a a bit. When you hear the sad j?? notes of the bird you named you thinh "? of some dear dead friend. When you )r* hear the strains of the donkey you think P" of some dear friend who ought to be dead for not coming around with his shotgun and a full bag of swan shot, to The song of the donkey, when first ris1? ing on the midnight breeze, is as soft ^ and sweet as the sound of a buck-saw to striking a nail; but as they float farther and faster the strains seem to grab each P" other by the hair, and you feel as if a talantula was walking up your spinal 3P corumn." x" ** Does a donkey kick the same as a F? mule ?" !?f "He does not. He could if he wantld ed to, but it would be too much of an ?r effort. He is rerv economical of his d? leg-power, especially when hitched be*? fore a cart. And, besides, nature has to given him reason enough so that he IS rmrlflmfnnrlr fVinfr Via cs\.n nine tpri m*n tn e" death where he could cripple one with a kick." n" " What is the prevailing color ?" m "A fashionable gray. One of them n" standing against a fog-bank may sing 36 all night and not be hit with a briokn* bat." V "Do they prefer mountainous counlP tries or low lands ?" ? ?1 They have no choice. If they found of two garden gates open they would not stop to see whether a Balkan range rd divided the land. If one of them should or fall over a precipice he would stay right 7 where he struck instead of hunting up 88 new territory. Now we have enough of for this lesson. Let us walk out on the ** shady street and get a closer look at the 3.n animal, Let us look for a man carrying 18 his umbrella on his shoulder or his cane or in his folded hands behind him. "-De10 trait Free Press. le ,r Celestial Oouositlon to a Railroad. so In Harper's Magazine is an artiole m on the first railroad built in China; and of some of the difficulties experienced in xi building it are described by the author, be as follows: ad Foreigners hold land in Ohina by w- treaty stipulations, under title deeds, in rt- both Chinese and English, registered at er a consulate; usually, but by no means ct the owner'belongs. This title'is in the er nature of a perpetual lease. Could tie such title be obtained for a strip of s.a land embracing the old road, it seemed is reasonable to assume that if there were ir, interference with any construction je, thereupon, the tenure of every hong and th other piece of real estate in Sbanghae lis would be affected, and the railroad proFs. jectors would have the whole communing ty at their back. Purchases were therein. fore cautiously begun and carried on, and registry obtained, not in the Brit;* ioVi nr TTnitfid Spates nnnnnlatfi. where ed attention would be attracted to it, 3i- but in a continental bureau. Of course iz- there were numerous and troublesome Qg obstacles, such as are not unknown in ies Western lands. Farmers claimed many he times the value of their holdings t jx iot smalf corners; old women of horrible cn aspect, and mistresses of the choicest ial Chinese billingsgate, cursed the engineer and interpreter by their gods, and vowed that Confucius himself should not have an iota of their patrimony; and ,K" the defunct natives gave the most trouble of all. It should be stated that in this favored land the rude forefathers k? of the hamlet who have departed this cb life are disposed of in sundry and proa'* miscuous ways, according, apparently, to the means and caprice of theii friends. Some are interred; others, do packed in boxes, are deposited in the "? fields; and others, again, placed in barall rel-like earthen receptacles (happily dej"1 scribed by a British officer as "jars ol !l7 potted ancestors, by Jove! you know"). 3*8 When it came to disturbing these, Q*> opposition culminated, as the ideas ol ?' buyers and sellers differed materially >y* as to the market value of "potted anft /mioifl annn nama 4* V?n UCObUiOj auu (4 vnuiu ovwu VHLUU! ( WM ? zey 'iss me," says the poor French [w" actor, "I do not mind 'im mooch; bul lu" ven it coom to ze or-an-ge-peel, o'esi *? autre chose I" So when the scolding ie? old women were re-enforced by barbaric ?* hordes with uplifted hoes and shovels, ' a the surveying party retreated in gooc ie* skirmishing order, and reported at head '? quarters, it | ? 118 j Hades Where Darkness Reigns. ? The natives of the Marquesas islands according to an American who has livec among them for years and studied theL * character, customs and creed, pictun f1 ! hell as a region of profound darkness , no ray of light ever entering it excep on arrival of a spirit from earth. '., this ray the newly-condemned spirit ii , guided to the special seat appointed foi ' " him?or it?and there he remains in im y penetrable shadow until the next comei ^ brings a flash of light. There is n< P other punishment for the doomed. The] X?' I are, however, singed on entrance, be . j cause they are then obliged to pass i huge demon, who flaps hw wings an< ind ex^a^es Are continually. Women, i may be interesting to know, are seldon ? sent to the Marquesan Tophet, owing t< . the love and devotion they bear th< ? native chiefs and priests, who would bi s inconsolable without them, even in para , dise. But women are not admitted t< ~ the highest circles of the good place prepared alone for men, who can, how ? I over, descend to them when they wish t . enjoy feminine society. There are dif ferent planes of divine life for women ' the loftiest being reserved for those wh have loved and been loved most intense ly in this world, and whose greatest blifl ter will come from the visits of the spirit be of the chiefs and priests. ?en md In England knowing fellows, whe ted about to enlist, pay great atttention t the the matter of uniform, which has a con en- siderable pecuniary value. A lil ex-1 guardsman at London or Windsor wi >wn be paid by a servant girl gl. 25 for doin -in- her Sunday out with him, while a hort far artilleryman will only be able to con ag- mand eighty cents, and a driver of a >ars tiilery thirty-five cents. The same pla live is carried on at Berlin and other cap tro- tals. The luxuries that these men enjc its are entirely paid for by their feminii mi- admirers, who, in'the case of hnrdson not guardsmen especially, are ofltn of , he much higher grade than servant girl roy Their fee for walking out with them the quite independent of th? incidental e: >eat pensea of a day of pleasure, whioh ft i at quentiy involves as much as 92 or 88 oi of Mary Ann's wag n. LEPROSY IN NEW YOKE. Tbe Three Leper* at the Charity Hoapltal ?A ill an Whose Filler* and Toe# are 0 Dropping Off. There are three cases of leprosy at 9 the Charity hospital at Blackwell's island, New York, which have proved of t such carious interest to the medical * profession that the superintending physician is .kouoled with more scientific visitors than he cares to see. f Tr? 1Q7A P.mi'li'n Tunnfll flion a hnr xu AWiv/ xiuuui| IUWU 0 vwj twelve years of age, came to New York i from a town in Cuba where no case of leprosy has yet been recorded. He was 1 in New York five years before the disease I showed itself in the leprous spots, with ' local anesthesia, which are the principal 1 diagnostic indicia. For two years and 1 four months he straggled against conI viction, and with some vain hope that : the diagnosis was a mistaken one, until the boys?little barbarians?began to hoot him on the street. Eight months ago he applied for admission to the hospital, and will remain there until he can be sent home. As the disease, when ; pitted against youth and a strong constitution, is frequently.^enty years in completing its work^^more dreary and 1 Buicide-indacing outlook can scarcely ' be imagined them that of a man stricken leprous in his youth, and doomed to the long isolation of the plague. Abraham Brown, forty-five Tears of age, native or .New iotk city, nae oeen in hospital a shorter period, bnt his case is of more unique interest The victim was strioken only last April, and admitted to the hospital in June. The progress of the malady has been virulent and rapid, commencing, sa usual, with thickening of the skin in spots, with loss of local sensibility. Aooompanying this came a strange debility and lassitude, with occasional exaltation of spirits. The disease has now attacked the solid tissue of the bones, and the man's hands and feet present a sight that one would never care to see twice. Some of the fingers and toes have already dropped off, while the rest, ulcerous and loathsome, hang loosely by their rotting and disfigured joints. The brain remains unaffected, and the victim converses with intelligence. According to his own story, whioh has been verified in its main particulars, Mr. Brown, who is a gas engineer by profession, emigrated thirteen years ago to Santiago de Cuba, where he was employed in the cnn works fnr thrPA vaatw. TTa rptmrnv? to New York ten years ago. without a vestige of the disease that has since reduced him to a living skeleton. It was then 1868. He had lived in New York ten years almost, when, last spring, the primary symptoms made their appearance. He agrees with Trenal in declaring that no case of leproey has ever, to his knowledge, occurred in Santiago de Caba, and further declares that he has never been in contact with a case of it. The doctors shake their heads, for it is contrary to precedent that one should become a leper de novo. But the mystery is that ten years of fair health should elapse between the departure from Santiago de Ouba and the first manifestations of the malady. Brown attributes his misfortune to exposure to the heat of the sun and the breathing of air loaded with foul vapors while pursuing bis profession in the West Indies. TheThirdf case is that of "an intelligent German, aged seventy-one, who served in the United states army, in Texas, years ago, and afterward followed the business of a horse-trader on the Mexican border. Cas?s of the disease are not nnfreqnent at Brownsville, Texas, and the border distriots of Mexico. In that immediate vicinity they are eo common as to attract little attention from the indifferent and apathetio Mexicans. Earl Henkle first detected symptoms of disease in the spring of 1876, while emi ployediin New York The case is not one of extreme virolence, although, of i course, hopeless in the present condi, tion of medical science. Henkle is so little disfigured and emaciated that one might pass him on the street without suspicion; but the malady gnaws deep, and is making steady progress. A peculiar scientific interest, aside from mere phases of the disease, inheres in the second case described, as the viotim strenuously denies having ever seen a leper. No great importance is given to his own explanatiop, the fact being familiar that leprosy is not uncommon in Sweden and Norway, and among the Lapps and Finns, as well as in Italy, Spain and warmer Mediterranean shores, from tbe Dardanelles to Gibialtar. Investigation has clearly shown that in all these districts, as well 88 in Acadia, | elephantiaain grcecorum did not appear Bnnnt.nn(wn?lT "Vn inntnno.fl of BDOtlta ~rw ? ? ? ? -? -. neons origin appearing on the record, [ medical inquirers are probing the caae of Brown to the very quiok. ; Rained by a Spider. Spiders crawling more abundantly and conspicuously than usual upon the indoor walls of our houses foretell i the near approach of rain ; but the fol; lowing anecdote indicates that some of ! their habits clearly foretell frost being ; at hand. Quartermaster Disjonval, ) seeking to beguile the tedium of his , prison hours at Utretcb, had studied atl tentively the habits of the spider ; and eight years of imprisonment had given him leisure to be well versed iu its ways. In December of 1794, the French armv, on whose success his restoration . to libertv depended, was in Holland, and [ victory "seemed certain, if the frost, r then of unprecedented severity, con2 tinned. The Dutch envoy had failed to , negotiate a peace, and Holland was det spairing, when the frost suddenly p broke. The Dutch were now exulting, s and the French generals prepared to ref treat, but the spider forewarned Disjon. val that the thaw would be of short : duration, and he knew that this weather 3 monitor never deceived. He contrived j to communicate with the army of his - countrymen, and its generals, who duly i estimated his character, relied upon I his assurance that within a few days the t waters would again be passable by i troops. They delayed their retreat; 3 within twelve days the frost had reB turned?the French army triumphed, 9 Disjonval was liberated, and a spider had brought down ruin on the Dutch o nation. * Grain in Europe and America. o According to tbo American Miller . Europe produces now ou an average i, 5,000,000,000 bushels of grain, of whiot o Russia produces cne-third, German; j- and France 520,000,000 each, and s Austria 500,000,000. The United State* a produces 1,600,000,000 bushels, or aboul the same aa Russia. In order to appreciate the advantages of the United n States, the population should be taker o into account; this is for the Unitec - States 40,000,000, and, therefore,we pro:e due? forty bushels per head, while II Europe, with a population of quite ? annnnnnnn nrodnces only sixteen 0 .?,?r ie bushels per head; Russia twenty-sia l- bushels per head, and Great 73rifair r- only fonr bushels per head. As tbf ji average quantity of grain consumed pei i- head is fifteen bushel?, we produce >y nearly three times as much as we want ie Russia scarcely twice its wants, Europe le on an average all needed, but Greal a Britain not much over one-fourth. I: s. will be seen that the general productioi is far surpasses the consumption, but thii x- excess is absorbed by breweries and die e- tillqries all over the world, which d< at moip to keep the price of breadstufis a | Items off Interest. ' - ""SB | Corn feed?Tighi boot?. . A man shonld bo grateful for a fnf^H ^Partridges are among the things thai :> J ^Watchword of the Behool.gixl--Hoo-^^g Erance has now 252 college* and $ \ eighty-six lyoeums. *':% Down in the mouth?1The youngmflq|| M with an incipient mustache. 4 You can't tell the age of an "ali saw " by looking at its teeth. 'j When you come to look for a spot the sun you will And its Sol in your 3 ] A lie has no legs, and cannot stand: ^3 ,'.; j U-t V>na fnnm and start Aw flip imifiM "J UUU XV U(kO nui^W) HMW VMM mmj wide. 1 You can never expect to have all desire, so get what yon can, and be 3 1 Goal dealers, let the times be ever ?o ^ % bard, have a weigh of doing buaiaefls onjjj^H a large scale. j Fiesole is one of the few Italian icnrnf ^ J which have a right to create noblt?. A |j j tiUeof count can be bought U1&6 ,1 Wrestling in the favorite publio gpdS^Spj in Japan, and a large nnmber of nictato! ;J make a professional business of appftraji 'M ing in contests of the ring. French physicians continue to oommend horseflesh as the very betk?? food for their consumptive .patients./ a It is a very common dish in Para* v ^; ^ The question havingbeen rais^'ij^^m:^ how many kinds of doctors there arsi;^::&sM3 -i?? -?<~n_ >? tittWjrfwjaaEj Liavt) carciTinjTnTuovae^juu i and readied the oosolosicai thai tbarfl?<S ^ are two kinda?male and female,. Theophilua Thistletoo thoroughly timpheft ^hregjia tlnkan traveling tbroogh TotUnV^jflB -*-3 Three tin tinker? travBlingtftroag?i Tremblingly, traveling tinkers tread throogfi^j The email boy moans, rubs his eyes^. l- *:| and tnrns oyer in his rinmbera^^B^twhether Santa Clans fonr-bladed jack-knife or a psuroC^^wj' Vg|p ties has^received $2^in^an envelope, nitif science money," yitten in a trembly ^|| band, as tuougii lm wrnBrwnrvnH* die. The editor don't know which ot ^bi g 'r-? subscribers to give credit to fortfc#* ^<0 and he has decided to girc jb|? n^n|H ^ dred delinquents credit for a oeat ttpice^ gjjjjjgg own hearthstone is attended with e&cri - . degree of risk. At Oranleigh?_5lifl^^H| engaged in making's^ swaying like a ponderoM the most tremendous rollers. : ' ' " *^V<. Tigers and CoDraa. A writer says: I was conversing O.'s with an Indian officer, who. confirmed the statement I had beforeheard,, ;< I that the tiger will, almost as a role, *>- i oape if he can, and only turns whea he ia wounded. He told me that the . ./ weapon first used by the anhnal ia h?> H?w, one blow of whioh has been known' to fractnre the skull of his victim, whom. $ he (hen tears with tooth and daw. r Some tigers, he says, *ill fight to the' " death: others, to use his own words, < " will die like aoow." Healso oonflrm- Sfc* ed the aooount given to me by my ~g?s friend, the late Sir Andrew Smith, the f distinguished naturalist^ and African'< traveler, that the cobra! afrHke othenr?K?r^ of the serpent tribe, is the first far " . * "show fight." It has the power of pro- < iecting itself to the length of half its? He fmv Indian informant) eaid the'%5g( cobra is killed with the slightest He was ode day riding through a jungly -** ' * when he saw a oobra in the tangle, and^jj&yH made a slash at him with his whipJniivCr^ missed him, when the snake mMe-*^^ dart, happily striking only the flap of the saddle. In reply to my inqniries as to the serpent- oharmers, he expressed his belief that the reptiles operated ^ upon were first deprived of their fangs. ,.*j He said as mueh once to a serpent*; charmer, - who vehemently denied it. The officer happened to nave eapnxrea a - . nm cobra, and the man readily consented to ? deal with it Some of the jugglers are f so expert that they will catch a snakej^y ~ the tail with one band, and rnn the other * A with the rapidity of lightning tip the creature's body to hie head before h* j has time to tun round. . Unfortunately, however, the expert *,3jf ment failed in this oase; the reptile turned on the man, who died in twenty ' minutes. .My friend said that, in,all. , his experience, he had never known df recovery from the bite of a cobra in fulf health; and that in cases where the bite*. v3 had not produced death, the cobra had exhausted or reduced the poison under ?v,j the fang by hi? having recently bitten some man or animal. He told me thai . he once had a leopard's cub, a few dears' <r old, and brought it up until it was ink* * v-d ly full grown, and was comparatively i tame. He was one dpy exhibiting hat i 'vj pet to some friends, when happening^ * : 3 turn from the animal to speak to a lady, -J5L; the brute made a dash at him with hU ;/?* paws, and slightly wounded him through ? . *' his boot and trousers. ? A Minister's Narrow Escape. . From one of his brother ministers wq learn the particulars of the reoent es- ^ cape from drowning of the Bev. A. D* Tadlock, of Qrayson county, Kentucky. -: /If He had been with his wife and child visy /? > iting his father, a Presbyterian minister.. > and president of King college, B i Tenn. On his way back by Pound \ r in crossing Clinch river at Bookyford,* ,.v [ the high waters washed the horse froiftV * . 1 ) his footing and overturned the buggy.* ' / t Mr. Tadlock clung to his wife and she* . to the child until it was washed from I her arms. He was manfully swimming,' j i although entangled in tne lines, woeu [ she shrieked at the lofs of her child, "he j/ l . succeeded in grasping it and retaining^*' . > his hold upon his wife. The horse// A ) meantime, "was partly swimming and' * i partly washed down by the current, ; dragging the buggy and the entangled -J i swimmer. The line now proved their s salvation. Beaching slack water the '* ? horse dragged them ashore, the gallant s husband and father still clinging to his wife and child and managing to keep. > ? them afloat. The child was unconscious k when the shore was reaobed, but was*- t. t revived and suffered no lasting ill tf. i fecta. The buggy was torn up con9id- . b erably, but the shifty preacher, with a borrowed hatchet and rope, was soon " ? 3" tn Hrii(n1 for a Haw fmt- " t fife and to be embalmed as the hero of one of the narrowest escapes recorded,