The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, July 02, 1879, Image 1

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?? ..I nu": -. I J... . iv." -.r-"/r-f -ai'11atm** ? ? ? ??? . : . ' ABBEVILLE PRESS & BAMES. * , /' r T \y-!w%ki * * BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 2, 1879. . NO. 4. VOLUME XXV., f . A Sninmcr Mood. iVe said, when wan November days Had burieil all the flowers, Tlie world no longer wears the charm Ot April's sparkling hours; A subtle change, a nameless spell Has turned the bloom to mold, The days are dark, the nights are drt>ar, And we are growing old !" But when the vivid foliage woke ! ; Beneath the solt spring rain, And from the maple boughs we heard rhe robins sing again, I With the first note our hearts grew light, Our lips no longer cold, Grew glad with kindred melodies? Can this ke growing old ? Rare meanings, radiant prophecies j Each day and evening gave, ( ' All fairv land revived again In verdure, sky and wave. The violet on the river's brink, The river us it rolled, j | Sparkled in sunbeams at our Icet, 11 And smiled at growing old ! i ( Then listening to the woods' low stir, i j The rapture of the birds, j j In the warm light oi nature's smile !5 More eloquent than word?, , We cried?" Efe ours the heritage So joyously loretold? i? Our youth but slept; our souls are strong, j s There is no growing old !" j 1 Jh, friend, have cheer! within the breast ? Eternal summer lies, * Our childhood's vanished rose is wet ; ' With dews ot Paradise. The river of our joy runs deep And flows o'er sands ol gold, j We drink the wine of youth divine, J We never shall be old ! j5 ?Frances L. Jllacc, in Portland Transcript. 1 ( THAT UNLUCKY QUOTATION, j A STORY OF " PLVAFOllK."' t They would have made a very pretty j i picture on a painted tile, its they sat oil j { the porch in the vivid afternoon light. 11 The cottage itself was as trim and com- 11 plete as a toy house; its color was a solt I gray. The late sunshine was goldenly j clear, and all the green world was shining, fresh from a shower. Auntie Trib [ i was sitting in a bright red rockinpchair, j j and her pretty old face was as pink and I white as a hunch of roses; and as for | ' Sallie herself?well, ask any critic in Rockdale, from the oldest inhabitant j down to the tiniest toddler, and you will hear a more enthusiastic comment than any which I can supply, llockdale is a j. neat little New England village, Jar ., away out of the world, in a rocky, hilly- j i and-daly district, where the direct do- i i scendants of the Puritans still hold their , sway. Auntie Trih's son, Free Grace Hill? j called "Free" for short?made his name i 1 good at an early age by snatching his 1 liberty and marching away " to town " :' ?never mind what town; wecftn call it ! L . lie verified his mother's title at j1 the same time, for she became indeed an 1 embodiment of tribulation; but Free j disappointed her agreeably, for he found | a good situation,! and worked in it faith- J1 fully and steadily. He was now a never- ,1 failing source of pride and delight Avhen j' on his brief visits he dazzled Rockdale j ' with his 44 town-made" garments, hisj* dainty mustache and general air of j "style." |1 His last visit, however, proved an |1 epoch in thehistory of Rockdale, and al- i j SO in uil* instuijr ui ma liiu uti/ic ui |>ii.in ccusin Sailie. lie brought with him an j1 older friend, employed in the same house 11 with himself, but in a more advanced i1 position. This personage, whom he de- j1 sisnated as Jack Arnold, immediately ' sent poor Free into the shade, and cast j1 him down from that pinnacle of fame ' which he had mounted at the cost of! J many a pair of highly-polished boots i' and much studied elegance. j j I will not attempt to describe the effect ; which young Arnold produced upon the {j " simple village maidens." Every pretty ' tfile which had formerly been directed j1 toward the fortunate son of Auntie Trib !1 was now. leveled at his friend, with a ' force and energy that produced the effect j ' of a bombardment. Ere long, however, ,' it was discovered that the new-comer !] was proof against every species of attack. ' Not that he was invulnerable?far from it. The truth was that he had fallen ' m under the very first shot. He had not i' been beneath Auntie Trib's roof twenty four hours before he had succumbed un- j1 conditionally to the force of Sallie's ;1 charms. The little Puritan maiden, i1 with her cameo face and her steadfast : ' gray eyes, stole at once into his heart? ; I an honest heart, for there is no villain in 1 this unpretending tale?and from hence ' forth he was her liege knight for life. It |' was not by passionate pleading and great ' deeds that he undertook to win her for ;i his own: no, the task was but easy, after j all. He was fair, good-liumoied, tall ; and handsome; Free snid he was a capi- '' tal fellow, and Sailie had great faith in ; i Free; he was devoted and unreserved in ' expressing his affection: what more i could maiden ask ? Before his vacation ' was over lie had bravely made known his ' love, and was shyly but readily accepted; ' j and when he anu Free left Rockdale they i bade a tender farewell to a happy little ' damsel with a rins upon her finger. .' All this did not happen long ago, but in this very year of 1879. Rockdale was i 1 nestled away far and deep among the j' hills; it was not very near the town of | < D , and L itself wa? not a great city. How should Rockdale know what! was agitating the world beyond? By : 1 newspapers, of course; but women do I pot often read the newspapers carefully, and the two wonrrn of this narrative ' seldom looked into them. Especially i j did they, in their Puritanic rigor, neglect i the amusement columns. After all, why 11 read of operas, plays and concerts that 11 one cannot see or hear? When anything > was "going on"in Rockdale itself, all jl the village was on the alert; but no one j' cared what the fashionable folk stared at 1 through their opera-glasses in the great i cities. So this1 year, wnen "n. m. ; Pinafore" sailed jauntily, with colors i flying, into American waters, many of i ( * the inhabitants of Rockdale reeked not! of it, and this simple fact brought con- !; storaation to the house of Hill. The ! I " saucy ship " found its way to L , ; < anchored there long enough to set a few j enthusiasts to singing " Little Butter- 11 cup" and "The Merry Maiden and the ;: Tar" (incorrectly, of course), and not j finding quite so warm a welcome sis in j : some of the larger cities, soon set sail : i again for a more congenial haven. But j the mania for quoting the libretto? < especially the " hardly ever'' epidemic? I spread in that region, as it did every- ! 1 where. Our friend Jack Arnold went to see I < the performance, and of course he j < thought of Sallie all the evening, and j envied young Hill, whose lady-love was ! i ? in the Dartv. The two voune men were !: meditating a brief visit to Rockdale, and : I hence it was, perhaps, that .Tack's ; thoughts were too far away to allow of i ] his giving full appreciation to the incom- j < parable little opera. All the tender | music filled him with thoughts of love. ! ] from which the irresistible jingle of the 11 merry choruses beguiled him only for ; 1 the moment. Therefore, when the day i < came for the journe'* to Rockdale, and j i he found himself at vst in the presence j of his beloved, his Tiiind was quite ab- < sorbed by the .joy < ?f it, and he had no 1 - leisure for such tr fling matters as the i discussion of a pretty new opera. So j i Sallie was left still in her benighted ig- 11 norance; she knew nothing of "Pina- j; fore." They began to talk of mundane mat- j ] tiers, however, on the second evening, ;' when they were all seated together. "That poor Laura Beamiit" Mid'' - . -> .. > '''t Auntie Trib, compassionately, you know she'd got back. Free?" " Laura Beamis!" uttered Free, a laugh, and glancing at Jack, who 1 a trifle conscious. "You had a fl "Yes," interrupted his mother; they do say shes been jilted by town young man to a degree made her a poor, broken-hearted sumptive." " Dear me!" exclaimed Free. " and lungs gone at one fell swoop! is going into the dying business v sale." This irreverent comment was re( by Auntie Trib with much repro; indignation; but Sallie sat mute, v wildly-beating heart. Gossip hac ried to her ears the tale that ! Beamis had claimed a former acqi mceship with Jack Arnold. Til Fortunate girl had gone to live wil lunt in L , and had returm ?: :n scriuus lii-utmiiii, cm* icauit, it )f a disappointment in love. Free1 svas peculiar. Could it be? "My grief ! it's an awful thing,' ;inued Auntie Trib. " Slie was en to him, I think, and he went off svheres and came back engaged to jthcrcirl. My! the poor thing lo< if she had one foot in the grave a'l It's really dretful, ain't it, Jolrn?"i sudden appeal to the silent listen "Very?very, indeed," said Ai 'I?I knew her." "You did? Well, I want to kr ;aid Auntie Trib. " Why didn'i say so before? Wasn't she pretty, hinir. before :'-he got so low-spirite "Who was the man?" asked f suddenly. "Very pretty, I think," said mswering Mrs. Hill's question lid not mean to ignore Salfie's, bui iroke in with a torrent of liveh sense, and the conversation drifted from Laura Beamis and her troi sallie was slightly uncomfortable he had confidence in her lover, an lot allow herself to indulge, as j auselcss suspicion. Auntie Tril?, >ver, recurred to the foraier su ivhich had distressed her simple, liental old heart. She exclaimed, atively: " My! ain't it dishonorable for a ;o behave so!" " If 1 knew him," said Sallte, Jo ike a youthful prophetess, in her lusterity, "I would never toucl land again?no, not if lie had bee >est friend." "What! so severe?" asked Jack lalf-amused remonstrance. "Whew! Look out, Jack." Free. "You never did anything lonorable, did you?" , " Never," answered Jack, readil juietly enough. This was irresistible. "'What! never?'" asked Free, intense significance. " Well,4 hardly ever,'" returned lervously rubbing his chin, appai ;he very embodiment of guilty fusion. Then they both uttered little evasive laughs, and Free ch: ;he subject. The truth was, they had both the joke so often that it could no 1 raise a hearty laugh, and they di 'efleet that the quotation wasv'n nnxtr trv thnir 1ip??vpi*c tmlpv tnlkf ignorant of the overwhelming which their words had produced. Auntie Trib was seriously alarmec began to think that she ought to inquired more closely into the ) nan's antecedents. She resolve question Free at the earliest opporti out how could this be aceompl' since the two friends intended to Rockvillc at an early hour on the fo ing morning? She decided to w most urgent letter, and sift the mat the bottom. But how was it Bailie? The little incident was, t narrow and innocent mind, a ' formation strong its proofs of holy > Tack was evidently ashamed of thing in the past; he had been co:; ind silent when Laura Beamis wa mussed; the events tallied; yes, til sumstantial evidence was strong. Iiad said, "You had a flirt?'' flirtation with her," he had intenc ontinue, when his mother interr liim. But what if J.-ick were inn in the case of Laura and her b Heart." ac least lie uau openiy tradicted his iirst denial of having mitted a dishonorable action. " H ?ver," indeed! Did he think she? would marry a man who had ever 11 it ted the faintest shadow of : honorable action? Never! not tl lier own heart broke, like Laura's. All night long poor Sal lie lay t< >n her bed. working her foolish brain into a state bordering upon ft She revolved the matter in her until she lost all power of eorrec tranquil.judgment. The more vio! die excited herself, the more cone] to her thinking, became the pro< poor Jack's baseness. At lenirtl i-ould lie there no longer; she ros< l>y the faint light of the winter daw wrote a brief but decisive letter to dipped her engagement ring int ?ime inclosure. sealed the envelopi wrote his name upon it. Fain weary with lier long conflict, she ibout to lie down again, when s membered that it was near the breakfast hour appointed for tin young men. and that she had proi to iissist Jerusha in her preparatioi die dressed hastily, with trem fingers, and crept down to the kit Had she obtained an hour's sloe would have awakened with a < sense of things, and the unfortunat would probably have been desti But now her wearied and overstimi brain continued to ponder upoi ,-ause of her distress, and magnify gigantic proportions. "For the. land's sake, child,' slaimed Jerusha, " you do look p< ful bad!" " I couldn't sleep," said Sallie, sh "There. Jerusha, the table's set there's plenty of time for me to g rest a while now." And'quietly 1 the note beside Jack's plate, she In back to her room. Her lover glanced around with Ince pvps wlipn tif mot Frp<? and A frib at the breakfast table. lie hn believed that Sallie would elude this morning. He seated himself, anxiously drawn brows. "What? why, here's a letter!"h claimed. Then, examining it, he re; word " Private" beneath his own i :ind flushing hotly, he slipped il his breast pocket. "From Salli< said, quietly. 4i What ever does the child m cried Auntie Tnb. " Ain't she up rushy, go right up and cet her." 41 Ol. ~ 1 out? min ii?> nuw mic ii urn awake," said Jerusha, " and she w rest a spell." "Well, you go along and tell 1 ;orae," said Mrs. Hill. But Jack called out: " Don't di tier if she's asleep." Jerusha went up, and presently Mattering down again. "She's as >he said as she entered. Poor Sallie had indeed dropped i troubled slumber, and Jack woul idmit for an instant the idea of ro tier. " It would be cruel," said the liearted fellow, "Free and I wil town here very soon again." He .was disappointed and doleful lie hoped the letter would explain ters. "The ring had been dropper Ihe fold# of Ihe paper, and its jould not be distinguished throug :hick envelope. Poor Jack won iirlinf fl*Q 1lOtv3 cilhcfnnpo V 3ould be, but the re:il state of the never dawned upon him. As he and younjj Hill were wr together to the railway station lit the note from his pocket and tore it It was brief, mysterious, decisive. " Queer enough," said Free, " for lie to give us the slip in this way. like you not to wake her. Six tuad enough to? Bless me, what's the matter?" $ " Did For Jack had stopped short, wil violent exclamation. His face was ] vith a pie, his eyes blazing with wrath ooked pain. He held up the ring before Fi irt?" astonished gaze. " and " What in the name of?" began F some But he was unheard; Jack tui that's swiftly, and ran like a madman t i con- to the Hill cottage. Sallie was walking the porch in Heart agony of doubt and trouble. Her t That rest had cleared her perceptions, bi rlicle- had not yet freed her from the stai mingled perplexity and stubborn :eived cision into which she had worked tchful setf* She was not yielding, but she vith a wretched and regretful. 1 car- Suddenly Jack appeared before Laura flushed and glaring, his excitable t naint- perament roused to its highest pitch, e* un- "Arc you insane?" he cried, sei; < i I Vin," Viv t-lin nrm " Tin von w ;n nor "j ? . , ? j? ?d in to drive rae to pedition with your wic i said, cruelty? In Heaven's name, exp s look yourself." And lie fairly panted breath. ' con- " ^oti me g? " she uttered, sternly; gaged not have you to toucli me. some- dress me as if you were at least a i some tleman." )ks as Jack was goaded to frenzy, and n,j,T swered ' intern pcrately: so the mi -with able quarrel raged high. Noexplana er. was given: mutual recriminations paj nold. back and forth. At last Sallie taui him with an allusion to his flirta low!" with Laura Beamis. t you "So it is for petty jealousy that , poor treat so?" he cried, d?" 44 No," she answered. " It is beet Sallie. I know you to be dishonorable." At the word Jack's heated face tui Jack, Pa'e a3 death. The two foolish pe< lie were now white heat. t Free " is ft lie." said he, in a voic j non- ominous calm. > And she, as sternly away quietly, sent him from her, with on iibles. never to return. So he turned upon *, but heel and left her there, and their b id did whs broken. ret, in After tin's the days went on qui how- enough. Night succeeded day with bject, morseless regularity. No one knew v senti- Sallie Hill suffered; no one knew v niedi- she would have given to recall herbi words. She had cast Jack away witl man counting the cost; she had leamei last that she could not afford it; she oking !l bankrupt in happiness. Gradually sweet slim, haughty figure grew slighter ! his less erect; the proud little i.iouth s n my cried, and let fall words of piety \ greater readiness than of old. She , with growing meek through pain. month changed her as a year might 1: cried done. (]js. j Talking one day with Laura Beai I who was growing stronger and n y and cheerful, she looKcd down at her r less finger with deep dejection, ' T * 1 ?-? | i^aura, ioiiowing jilt ejrea, sjmu, : with ilt'nly: " Sallie, I hoped you would have ? Jack, Jack Arnold. I knew him in Lrcntly 'ie >s suc^ :l 600^ fellow! He an con- <mL'e had a little innocent flirtation, cold fore?before?well, when I first aiiged Rockdale, and I have always s: thought of him as a friend. You're t.p.wi engaged to him?" ' " No," replied Sallie, in a tone wl forbade inquiry. t; I % "So that was all!" she thought, i nn believe I have lost all for nothingeffect n?th'ng! But it is too late." Still For Pr'('e nevcr dreamed of bending. 1 -mil ^ut further revelations were to co have l;ist a "Pinafore" company vis un" Rockdale, and Sallie, seated by a ru ' i swain, who basked in the colli ligli initv 'ier rare sm^e3? heard with lanjc ; . V pleasure the inimitable opera. Sud( leave Jest of a mocking fiend, tl illow- ')rn^e uPon 'ier oars the fatal wt fn " which had helped to destroy her pe ter to e" What! never?" " Ha; with cver*" Strange words to be assoei: her w'th heartache and misery! Yet, ? surd as it may seem, they were, .. ." Sallie's ears, freighted with a drea s Jne SP t'lan t'ie a"?*ent cabalistic n ifiiswi t01''n?s of witch or wizard, or the f j. ful utterances of the oraclefc. For t ' -j." this mere quotation, this idle joke. Free ',!W* wrouS'lt herself into a state of vi i A ? ous indignation and angry suspieioi 11 . the man she loved. And she lost li uoted Tk!s was tke h>tterest touch; yet n nMonr was to come. roken When she reached home, Auntie 1 met her with a rueful countenai fnnil " My grief! Sallie," she exclaimed; - J?" don't b'lieve you treated Jack An she- "glit. Here's a letter from Free sa ~ Jack's down with typhus fever, or so id is- r'''n' an(^ he says you've ki mn'i' him, and that we must come dowi lougn L right off But> ]ftW me, what, thinkin' of, wantin' you to run your 1 little 'nto ,l contiguous disease!" (Au Trib's words were often changed at bi I'^e the captain and Ralph, when t and sl)0^c 'n haste.) " Why, you migh I *1 | well face small-pox as typhus?not f I what I'm sorry for Jack; but of coi ! we can't go." ii in. i " Go!" cried Sallie, who had snatc oml Itk<> letter. "Trv to keep me, that's i l ] I must go to-night?to-night! It's i.w.i-* I phoid, not typhus^auntie. Oh, if I c< 7il?'|t:ike it find die! Uh, .Jack! .Jack!" ^ <?uiot. dignified Sallie broke down, t .'in<1 wailed like a child. , W-IS They could not go that night: tl lie re- W!LS no ^ra'n till daybreak; but S: earlv ,na(^e rcady for their journey with fe j two energy. Iler uoor bewildered r ^jS0(i remonstrated feebly, but in vain; ,s.' so was whirled off in the early mori biiii" 1'slit, and sat in a dazed condition cherf t'lft tra'D' w't'1 'ier ^3est bonnet all av it she :inc^ bailie's white inflexible le irer Reside her. gazing straight forward, f note :i mournful Fate. How the young pr oyed Heart had been humbled that nigh llated Pray?r and tears! Would the joui i the I ^'y4 cuvi; it to en(^e(^ l''st; and .Tack, who a I am bound to say, not quite so i! t p Free had represented, awoke from s aw or- t0 lending over liim?not the avenging goddess of his late troul ' . dreams, but the sweet woman whou ort,y: loved. Of course he forgave her: , ana (.ourse jlfi recovered. What would o ana expect? He was tender and vehem :iy\n? and grief and perplexity and rem* lrneu , j1!W| broken ]jjm down; but he was orous, and joy and confession and rcf. j giveness restored him. Of course Limtie | ^n(nv fr()m the first how the story wc id not en(|. jt js j3Ufc :t trifling tale of a tern ; 1,'") in a teacup. But Sal lie had learne Wlt" lesson which she never forgot. IIow Jack laughed when he heard explanation! "As 'Pinafore' was :wltne eauge 0f our despair," he said, ' name, * Pinafore' express our newly-recov< J ,,,n.t0 happiness." lie And he began to sinz, feebly and p? correctly, but still heartily, >?*Je " ' Oh, joy ! Oh, rapture unforeseen !' Free and Auntie Trib stood by lil layin' "kindly chorus," smiline benevoler ent to " I H never be so foolish again," i poor Sallie, meekly. ler to "What! never?" hissed Free, ii stage whisper. isturb " No, of course she never will," c Auntie Trib, failing to recognize ioke. although it had been explaine leep," 'lor a fjreat""many times. With wl exhibition of innocence the old 1 nto a "brought down the house" as Cap <1 not Corcoran himself could never do. using you see her audience was so very haj ?Harpers Bazar. soft- , = 1 run Dr. Keith, of Illinois, asserts that di theria comes from potato eating. I, but Keith claims this notion to be the re mat- of his own experience as well as tha I into his father, extending over twenty-i shape years, and embracing eleven hunt li the cases of diphtheria. In all of these c dered the patients were potato eaters. Pen ritliin who eschewed the potato escaped i wise diphtheria, though residing in them of an infected district. It "may ilking sumed that this sweeping char^ < ; took not apply to healthy tubers, but onl open, those affected by the pouito rot. Sal " How do you tie a love knot?" as Just Laura, toying with a bit of blue ribl ;,11^ be "Oh, any way," growled Tom, bef Jack, his newspaper, "just so it will pull easy." th a FOR THE FAIR SEX. pur an,rt Wash Dreaae*. ee1s The soft cotton stuffs used for ws 'rec. dresses have very little dressing,,and ned quire very little starch when they i >ack laundj-ied; if made stiff with starch til do not produce the effect of being n< i an and fresh. Ginghams and mummy clc >vief have found most favor for such dress lit it The ginghams are in plaids, bars te of stripes of gay colors, or else in the pop de- lar seersucker patterns of two shades her- gray-blue, and the mummy cloths tl "?? lili-nrl nil runt fjvHpH-f colors in stripes, with a chintz patto her, of palm leaves or flowers between. T era- entire dress is most often of one fabr instead of choosing plain tcoods for t sing lower skirt. *The mummy cloths are rant the thickness of satteens, but instead :ked having a closely-twilled lustrous surfa lain there are woven roughly with rais for spots and dots. The skirts of tin dresses are invariably short, as tli " I form a walking suit for summer we Ad- and the kilt skirt is used more offer ;en- than a plain round skirt. The kilt sk has a very deep yoke coming far belt an- the hies, and tliekilting is adaed in vt ser- wide plaits, deeply folded but quite : tion apart, and held in place by a single r< 3sed of tapes sewed underneath half way 1 ited tween the yoke and the foot of the (ire tion 'These plaits hang easy and careless-loc ing, and it is not intended that tb you should be stiff and prim, consequently is not difficult to wash and iron the luse With such a skirt a short bunchedpolonaise is worn in what is called t Tied Marquis style. The fronts round op ople just below the waist, and are caught in a single cluster of plaits, or else e of bunch of shirring on each side and in t and middle of the back. The plaits are 1 ders low the hips, leaving the plain Mi i his guerite effect in the back, ana there m ond be a cluster of long loops of gay.ribbc on p.anh sifln where the bunehine 1 etly gins. To edge this polonaise soi i re- of the fashionable cottage la< rhat are used, either Russian or e rhat ecru yak lace. In other cases kni itter plaiting of the material is edged wi lout heavy Italian Valenciennes lace that i at very narrow. Sometimes solid-coloi was cotton Chambery, either red, jmle bli Jie olive green, or ecru, is laid in kni and plaitings and put beneath the lace-edg soft- frill, and is only seen as a facing, vitli, when the friy of the material is blo\ was' up. When the polonaise is not used, I One waist is a panier basaue bunched up tave the side seams and also in the middle the back. The overskirt is then a pan mis, round overskirt made with a gorea frt lore and side breadths, and full back caus ing- up in either three or five places. Wh and the mummy clotli has an ecru prour >ud- the polonaise is lined as far as the hi with ecru batiste. Sometimes the frc nar- represents a vest, and a revers outlir ?; the vest on each side. Pipings of r d I Chamberry and ecru lace trim the ec be- mummy cloth polonaises. In one po left naise the ecru ground has dark myr ince green stripes, while small olive lea\ not are on the ecru part. With this garmc long looped bows of red and crea lich colored satin arc on the side seams of t back quite low on the hips, also on t " I sleeves* in the middle of the back at t -for neck, and as,a cravat. Such polonaii her cost $25 without a lower skirt, and t to be worn with a silk skirt, of da me. brown or of myrtle green, or else wi ited the short black silk skirt that still fori istic the foundation of many useful toilett it of The expensive Scotch ginghams a ruid the lighter qualities of zephyr Fren Ipn- gingham are made up similarly a lere trimmed with white biaid lace, or elsi >rds scant rullle of Hamburg-work in shoi ace, open patterns. The American ginghai rdly are made up in suits, trimmed wi ited Smyrna lace, and sold for 810; a para: ab- to match is furnished with suits sold , to 812. The blue-striped seersucker gir rier hams sold for twelve and a half cent lut- yard are perhaps the most satisfactory ate- the domestic ginghams, both in reg:i his, to washing ana wearing well. They j she made up with a belted basque that is r rtu- lined and with a long apron overski l of A bias band is stitched on the basq lim. and overskirt in preference to the km lore plaited frill. The only trimming is t deep kilt flounce on the short lov rrib skirt.?Bazar. nee. ' New* and Motcn for Women. vln' Fiye towns in Michigan want refoi schools for girls. The New York Cooking School 1 j t0 had two hundred pupils since Janu: s lie first. lead Anything for a sensation. The n ntie mania among the English ladies is 1 rth, collection of old watcli-cases. she The Chief Justice of the Supreme Coi t as 0f Wisconsin has decided that the wc but "person" does not include those of t urse femaie sex. . 1 Airs. Fawcett, wife of Professor Fa '"J?{ cett, the. blind member of Parliament, lecturing once a week at Oxford, to )uld HUl^ence Indies, on political econon Jin(| Mile. Mari# Vanzandt. a bright Amt and cnn daughter of MadameVanzan well Known in New York musical cirel |)ere has made a decided operatic success ljjjg London :is Zerlina. ver- IVIiss Kate Lupton received the dezi ...-j. nf Moetm* r\f A rt-a frnm VanHprhilt IT lUllb *?? v . ? she versity at the lute commencement, 1 ling cause, as the chancellor said, she " li i on won it in a masterly manner, havi rry, p:issed most satisfactorily all the exam face ations to which the young men wi like subjected." oud Women as physicians have lately coi t in to the front, and at the commencenu ney exercises of the Woman's Medical Colic Hospital, Chicago, a large and fashic vas, able audience assembled to see the ct II aa ferring of degrees by Dr. Byford. Ma leep of the graduates have already a lai fair practice. Mrs. Gross, M. D., lias an; aled come of 812,000 a yo.ir, and is the wife i he a well-to-do physicianj*and Mrs. Sal ; of Smith makes $15,000 a year, and is t you wife of the manager of Stewart's who cnt, sale store in that city. orse - vig- Who Should not be a Wife. vmi ^la3 that woman a call to be a w >uld w'10 ^'inks raore 'ier 8^k dress th J", ? her children, and visits her nursery d a oftener than once a day? Hits tl woman a call to be a wife who cries i , a Cashmere shawl when her husban the notPS are being protested? Has tl , ; woman a call to be a wife who sits rea i ing the last new novel while her husba stands before the glass, vainly trying I pin together a huttonless shirt bosoi Has that woman a call to be a wife w ? expects her husband to swallow dilut coffee, soggy bread, smoky tea a ke a watery potatoes six days out of seve itly. Has she a call to be a wife who flirts wi said every man she meets, and reserves 1) frowns for the home fireside? Huss n a a call to be a wife who comes down breakfiist in abominable curl-papers, ried soiled dressing-gown and shoes down the the heel ? Has she a call to be a w d to whose husband's love weighs naught rich the balance with her next door neig ady bor's damask curtains or velvet earpc tain Has she a call to be a wife who wou iiut take advantage oi a moment 01 conju<i >py. weakness to extoit money or exact promise? Has .-sne a call to be a w who takes a journey for pleasure, leavi iph- her husband to toil in a close office ai I)r. have an eve when at home to the servar suit a?d children? Has she a call to be t of wife to whom a good husband's socic line is not the greatest of earthly blessinj ired and a house full of rosy childern its b< ases furnishing and prettiest adornment? sons Health and Home. the ? idst Iler lie^e lord had a bad cold, and si ore- though she is perpetually nagging hi toes and even wishing him dead, goes y to tears to confide to a friend the gloon apprehensions inspired by her poor dc husband's hacking cough. "Ah, n iked dear," she concludes, "I shall immet )on. ately call on the best medical talent t lind directory affords, for if I were to 1c ou*. . my husband I know I should go wild I " After wlicmsaj s her friend. * Eccentrics." The youth with the white duck v?5si and heavy gold chain never buttons his I coat up. re. No boy is tender-hearted or sympa ire thetic enough to feel bad when nis [Cy teacher is sick and has to stay at home 3w The worst of a short crop with a retai (th dry goods clerk is that if won't enabli es. him to hold his lead pencil behind liii or ear. >u- No man can walk along Broadway of without meeting an acquaintance?tha iat is, if he happens to have on his ok >ut clothes. 'P Fame should never open its goldei ,Pe portal to the being who will attempt t( }c' burnish his silk nat with a olacKing hef brush. 01 * ?.?n 0f 1111U1 Uiiu iin v ui ten ? nitu A.H&U ui ai ce> axiom he possesses when he carries i e(j Chinese laundry check around in liii Jse pocket. ley When you have rheumatism so ba( fir, that you can't stoop you are pretty suri ler to discover a three-cent silver piece lyinj irt on the sidewalk. )w a fact. . >ry She sits and smiles p,ir By the window-sill; She's sweet as a rose In a valley still. And no one knows it better than herself. ss* ,^1 At a picnic it always seems to be th< ey fate of the man with the pearl-colofe( \ ^ trousers and white vest to be called upoi m_ to ascend a tree to adjust a swing for { Up stout girl who chews gum and speak.1 llt! ungramatically. icrt No pen will ever correctly describe th< up sensations which thrill a man when h< a raises his hat on meeting a young ladj lie on the street?that is, when his hair il je- cut so close to his head that lie can' tir- touch it with liis hand. ay No matter how great a poet may be ms no matter how fur his fame extends, n( >e" matter how much lie is admired anc lie courted by society, lie is never eecentri< !os enough to attempt to wash his face witl 'sc his hat and eye-glasses on. J" NOW. Now the lilies-of-the-valley \ On the montlepiece are wilting, . And now the golden butterfly j.0' On dandelion's tilting. 'Tia now the morning sunbeam gilds l?d Tlio coleus and onion; 01' Tis now the clumsy croquet ball vn Doth seek the tender bunion. he Jt is .argued by philosophers that th< in h.ardpsfc-enrT.pd triumnhs are alwavi .?* sweetest. This miy be, but it can't b< ier aid to be the wise when ft man, in at).nt tempting to open a knife, almost rips hi: I'16 thumb nail out by the roots. ^j1 What makes even a good-natured mar I ' wild with rage, while running past tlu ' t ferry cashier in a crowd is, after laying down a trade-dollar, to attempt topic! v j up the ninety-seven coppers which constitute the change without being knockec 1 down. tie IX JD-VE' ,es The dandelions burn Amid the wavy lern m By the stream. j " Ah! these balmy, golden days, J1R "With their robin-roundeluys, j,e Like a dream he Steal upon us, and elnto iCS Make our bosoms, while sweet Kato ire With Sir Launcelot eats n plate ,rk 01 ice-cream. itli Heat and Cold. ml We find the body capable of resisting cli a temperature sufficient to d?compos< ntl (lean nmuer. Aninmis as wen as nun e a have been exposed to a degree of lieat ex ,vy ceeding that of boiling water, and with ms out injkry, when at the same time a ther ith momPter placed under the tongue liai sol indicated an elevation of a few degree.1 for only above the natural standard. "Tin ig. power of resistance is of short duration s a for the nervous influence is exhausted of so extraordinary a demand. Chemica ird agents come into play, and matter is re ire solved into lifeless form. As regard; iot cold, the same law prevails, the limit; rt. are the same. However great the powei ue may be of resisting it, as soon as thi fe- nervous energy is exhausted the systen he is subject to injury. rer I have witnessed the effect of cold to< long endured upon the little postilions who are barbarously exposed to it in tin winter season at St. Petersburg. Tin lads bear it for a time, as they sit 01 their horses clapping their hands am singing to keep up their courage; bu l?is this fails them by degrees, and finally ll'y benumbed, til ?y fall from their saddle in a state of torpor, which nothing bu e?w rolling them in snow will overcome lie There is seldom a fete given at St. Peters burs: in the extreme "old weather tha Jrt occurrences of this sort are not record'" )r(l In very cold n;gbts the sentries are fre lie quently frozen to death, if not relieved a short intervals. As long as nervcus ex citement can be kept up the resistance o W{1 cold is very rrreat. General Piroffsk; in 'nf?rme(l me in the expedition t< Khiva, notwithstanding the intensenes: v of the cold, the soldiers marched alon; r'- singing, with the breasts of their coat ('k> open, hut only jus long as they wen L!s* Hushed with the hope of success. in Where there is nothing to excite, anc where exposure to the cold takes plae ree only under the common routine of parable ni- its depressing effects are lamentably fel be- by those long exposed to it. In the tim< ad of the Grand Duke Constantine, a regi ng nient of horse was marching from Steins in- to St. Petersburg, a distance of twelv ?re miles and upward. He marched atthei head at a foot-pace all the way. He ha< ilie well-wadded himself, and smeared hi nt face over with oil. ?ge It was a gratification of a whim to ex )n- pose the soldiers to a ereat degree o m_ cold. They arrived at. the square be for ny the palace, "and were dismissed to thei (re barracks. The following day one-thir< in- of the reaiment were in the hospital, at of tiickod by a nervous fever, of wliicl )in many dieil. There was no stimulus o ,]ie necessity in tills case, but the moral feel ]e- ing aggravated the physical suffering.Sir G. Lcfevrc's Apology Jor the Nerves. ,The Grasshopper Pest in the West. ifr A letter from Dakota says: Grass !in hoppers are hatching out in innumerabli no myriads on the prairies west of the Mis iat souri River now, and unnum beret myriads have been hatching out foi ['s quite awhile. The ground is black witl ,!lt tliem. They hang upon the grass lik d- bees after a swarm. But this is not sur n(' prising, for they hatch out in the sam< t(? wav here every year. I have been fa J1 miliar with them for the past ten yean ho and see no change in them at all; possi 0(] bly they are a little bigger, for under thi n(i laws of evolution they ultimate in tin n kangaroo. On the plains they are ai t" homo, they are healthy and vigorous, foi ier gr;vss is their natural food and as long a! 'lfi thev feed upon grass they thrive, hut le to them give up their natural food ant !l forsake their native land, the arid plains .'d- and go upon our wheat farms and luxVG uriate upon the rich, highly conceiv m trated food of cultivated grain, and dis e;isesets in, gangrene of the vitals is th< j? result, and the grasshopper perishes Three crops of wheat will destroy anj >!" one invasion. After passing three sumft mers in cultivated fields, an epidemic "e (worse than dyspepsia; produced bj high living, will carry them off entirely and no more will be heard of them unti! lts some one situated like myself on the frontier will report from their recruiting 'ty camps that tliey are preparing for anothei raid. It is my opinion that the frontiei '? farms will always be subject to these rlpcnlnfnrv inctnsinnD rf/im rrrnQulinn pers.'but as the tidefof empire rolls Westie, warn the grasshopper will go with it and im finally he will disappear, and like the in locust ot Egypt he will only be terrible ay to read about. In the meantime he will ar continue to make disastrous raids to the ay East, but the distance he will or can go li- will be limited, and the fear often exlie pressed that. ?-ome day he will continue ise his flight to the far East and become a Hcoiu'ge to the Middle States is altogether groundless. THREE-CARD MONTE. j A Few Reminiscences of tile Great Thre Card Monte " Sharp,'' " Canada Bill who Reaped a Harvest of 1100,000 1 Haking Victims of Unsophlstlcati 3 Travelers on Railroads. Three-card monte is a swindling jran 1 at which it is impossible to beat tl 2 operator, and it has been so thorough 5 exposed"that there oueht not to be ai victims. Nevertheless the monte spide (- seeking human flies of present wealt t dexterously handling his cards and ski 1 fully talking the while, makes his li ing about as easily as he did in the da; of the war, when money so plenty. A old railroad conductor, now a passeng agent for the Chesapeake and Ohio roa but who ran a train on the Baltimo and Ohio road during the war, relat 1 that he knew " Canada Bill" to gath 1 in $8,000 in one train from Martinsbu 3 to Baltimore, a distance of one hundri miles. "Canada Bill "is a name w< 1 known to the gambling fraternity, f 2 though he who was known by thr.t tit ; was some years ago laid to rest. H death, which cut off from the earth tl smartest operator of three cards th ever was seen, took place when he w a trifle more t.ian forty years of ag "Just as well to die now," sajd he,whi told that medicine could not save hir " Might as well cut the game, becau j biiu ureuiu ui tin; iuuulu new uceu att.ii 1 med. There won't be another- wa 1 and they ain't going to build no mo 1 Pacific railroads, ana it's hard for me 3 play for ten when I used to Catch a hu clrea twice as easy." When his la ? minute came he sat up in his bed ar i called out: "Fifty doHars to ten y< f can't pick up the ace," and then he f< i dead. t That is the story told of his last m ments, and may be true if the old sa ing has no exception that the ruling pa j sion is strong in death. Bill's gre 1 boast was that lie liad beaten a mini 3 ter. Chicago newspaper reporters < , the year 1874 remember of the excit ment the city editors of the papers ther except one, were thrown into by the e: elusive publication by that one of tl st^ry of a well-known minister who b ca.ue a victim to " Canada Bill's" wil on a train on the Chicago, Rock Islar and Pacific railroad. He had lost near a thousand dollars. Canada Bill d not bear the reputation of having be< the most expert dealer, but he did th , of Laving been the most skillful operate 5 In the slang!of the profession, " he cou ; rin? in suckers better than anybody and here is a sample of his proceedrnj j that came under the observation of tl writer a lew years ago: me unno State Fair, held at Decatur, was ju | over, and the Grangers weie tilling tl \ trains, homeward bound. Bill, wearir ' cowhide boots and coarse clothes, gi L into the ti'ain just moving from the st [ tion and attmcted attention by sayir in a loud tone, "Well, no farmer has show with railroads. They kill his stoc and laugh at him when he want9 pr forit." "What's up?" asked his clevi capper, and Bill related: "I brougl three head of Durham calves down he: from Winnebago county and I got pr miums on all of them. I was havir them put on the cars to send home" by this time the attention of every gra: gfir in the car was attracted?-" wlu the consamed fools let one of them brer a leg on the bridge from the cattle pt to the sto6k car, and they had to kill to put it out of misery. I wouldn't ha* > have taken $200 for the calf, but tl ; railroad tells me I was shipping : 1 reduced rates and ain't got any claim The conversation that ensued and tl * statement that Bill had made put hi " on the best possible terms ana in tl 3 confidence of all the Grangers, ar 3 so when he presently spread nis ove * coat and said first, " I'll sue the roa * anyhow," and then, " I found this litt! ' game that'll be funny for the Winnebru 1 folks, anyway," he had no lack of liste: " ers and interested watchers, and affo ' that is accomplished the work of tl 3 three-card monte man is easy. Hum: r nature, rich with avarice, does the res 2 Bill drew out his cards and proceed) i to tell how he had won $530, after losii 860, "just :is easy," he went o > " as this. Now, here's the money," ai . he pulled out a pig-skin pocketbook, ti< J up with twine, which lie undid and e s posed a pile of notes to the amount 1 several hundred dollars. " No discoui 1 on that; easier made than turning a loi t furrow." His capper asked for explan ? tion and Bill told him all there was s it and lost forthwith ?20 to his aceor t nlinp. Rv this time h:df a dozen nockr hooks were out and beta came in freel - In half an hour the train reached Tolon t- whore passengers change lor Chieag and Bill, about 8200 ahead, got up. r - marking: "Well,gentlemen, I'mgoii 1 to Chicago to see a lawyer about reco - cring for that calf. Good night." Ai f before the astonished Grangers cou f realize the situation he had disappear) 3 through the door. Half an hour afte 5 ward he was seen on the north-bom S train, dressed in the height of fashi< s and looking like anything but tl B coarsely-clad man on the Wabash roa It is said that Canada Bill mai 1 $100,000 during his career as a ca: e thrower, but when he died, in Coun< Bluffs, Iowa, he left just enough of mon t to give him a decent funeral. Like mai e of his profession, he found at the Jfa - table Ins greatest pleasure, and his wi a nings went from him more easily tin e they came. He wjis a great player r draughts, ana won much money th 1 way. Of his early life not much 3 known. He was born and lived f some years at Peekskill, N. Y.. on t " Hudson river, just below Poughkeepsi f lie was often arrested, but never stay e long in prison. AltPr the war his fie r of operations was mostly on the Pacil 1 rai roads, west of Omaha. Himself a man of during and person J. courage, he often had to face men mo ? desperate than himself, but his presen of mind never deserted him. and win " everything else failed he was as rear with a weapon as his adversary. I never drank to excess and had no i tiniate friends. Some years ago he visit Philadelphia. It was in the days win " faro flourished here and the strict orde 3 of the police had not substituted pok j in private for faro in gambling room Bill came with $5,000 in his pocket. I r was the guest of a well-known Sanso I street snorting man, and Bill remarki 3 to his host: "I'm only going to lo $o00 a night, so I'll stay ten days." I 3 went into a Ninth street room til evening and left the entire $5,000 on tl i table in less than two hours. For I month or two he operated in this \ 3 cinity. Every week lie would come b:u f from his trip with $200 or $300, and c every visit he left it all before the bo: '' One night he put out $700. and when * had gone lie turned in his chair and sa: , to the owner of the house: "Lend 11 $100; I'm going to Chicago." Hesei ' the money back the next week, with letter which read: " Much obliged f< tho money. Chicago is good enough f< Canada Bill."?Philadelphia Times. t """"" ' A Sheep Butts ft Mirror. Quite a commotion occurred in a fa : mor's house n short distance out ( ' Rome, N. Y. They were cleaning lious r and left open doors leading to all par I of the house. In one of the rooms was large mirror, reaching to the floor. C : the premises is a sheep whose head * graced witli horns, and which is vet tame, entering the house whenever ;i * opportunity is < presented. This wool 1 animal got into the house unnoticc< When first discovered it was standin * face to face with the mirror, shaking i I head fiercely. Before it could be read ' ed it jumped back for a good start, cn 1 flmn rtlumrnrl ihi lm-irl infn t.hp mirrn' I Instead of coming in contact with son: s other animal, as it expected, it demo i ished a fifty-dollar mirror. The eras so frightened the animal that in i: i endeavors to escapc from the scrcarr . and attacks of the women of the hou< it found a place of exit through a Frenc window. TIMELY TOPICS. ?- _ A Viemia journal says that when startl?" ing for Livadia, the Russian Czar went to 'J the station in an ironclad carriage, escorted by about 400 mounted guards. The station was surrounded by military and ic police, and entrance was strictly proie liibited. Similar precautions were taken ly at all stations along the line. A train *y full of police andi guards preceded the !r, emperor's, and no one for twenty-four ll. liniira wns nprmHtpd nvpn tn nnnrna/'h il- the rails. v ys There are certain comparisons between in the vital statistics of France and Prussia, jr in a recent-report to the Academy of Sciences of Paris. Thus, it appears that re in France 100 marriages.give about 300 e9 children: in Prussia, 460. It is also er shown that in France the annual inr? crease in population (births over deaths) is 2,400 for each million of inhabitants, y while in Prussia it is 13,600.. At this J, rate the population of France should :!e double in 170 years; that of Prussia in forty-two.' The failure of a jury to convict the .0^ XUUf&UlU uxuiuuig Ul UlUlUtli Aywavftw jq field, Cal., displeased the populace. A n mob broke into the jail at night, and gg one of the prisoners was quickly hanged Q_ to the bars of his cell, a noose being v thrown over his head, and the rope j.g pulled through the grating. Then the to lynchers went to the other's cell door, n_ and found that he was fettered to the at floor. As they were unable to enter, 1(j they tried to lasso him, as they had )U done with his brother, and then choke ?22 him to death by pulling at the rope, but he dodged the noose successfully". q_ So they killed him with their revolvers, y_ firing so recklessly that two of their own number were accidentally wounded. at s- A new method of breaking in horses of by means of a galvanic battery was e- the subject of a recent patent in Enge, land, and exception was taken to it as x- being ineffectual and cruel. "It apic pears, however," says the London News, e- "that when properly carried out it is es not oniy effectual, but the reverse of id cruel, as the animals are so iwtonished ly at the power displayed by their masters ia that they quickly become docile and >n tractable. The experiment has been at tried by the General Omnibus Company t. of Pans, and the scientific experts apld pointed to report upon the method de," dare that it is more effectual and less ?s cruel to the horses than the ordinary le practice." is st " A six-penny phonograph" is the ie latest invention, emanating from the 'S brain of a Mr. Lambrigot, a French genot tleman. Phonographic impressions are ^ first taken in stearine, which is then electro-plated and matrices made of hard * metal. Into these lead wirc-s are pressed," so that the impressions made by the viLy brations of the diaphragm in the stoarine are perfectly reproduced on the lead 11 wire. Half a dozen of these wires, each re containing a short sentence, are then e" fastened to a small board. The rest of j? the apparatus consists of sixteen incnes ofleadwireto one end of which is attached a hollow pasteboard cone, oneand-a-half inches in length, and to the J* other end si small pasteboard disk. By ." moving the disk along one of the wires ^ fastened on the board, words are made to ip issue from the cone, as in the ordinary ^ phonograph, only with less distinctness. je The life of the seeker for precious m metals is not an easy one A gentleman le who recentlyi.went with a party of capitalists to Leadville, Col., says: ;r_ "' Prospecting' is about a? near like gambling as any downright honest hard le' work can be. It requires genuine pluck ,0 to go out upon the mountains at or near n_ timber line, where the nights are always er cold and snow falls nine or ten months ie in the year, to live alone in a rude cabin tn without even the necessaries of life, to it. say nothing of its comforts, and to dig ?(j day after day and sometimes month after month without even an indication of n> 'pay dirt.' And yet this is the life of 1(j the 'prospector' year after year. One man in a hundred, or a thousand perx haps, makes a 'strike' and obtains of wealth which he rarely knows how to nt use. The remainder are always poor, lg their best luck being when lliey can ina. duee some one to give them a 'grub in stake,' that is, to furnish them food for n- a share in their mines if they find any." ;t y. Unit(|l States Senator Carpenter, ot o, Wisconsin, has smoked himself into illo, health, as the following statement, tele-. e- graphed from Chicago, makes manifest: ig "The announcement that Senator Carv penter luis been advised by his physician id to go to Florida for his health was a Id genuine surprise to his friends in Milsd waukee. Few supposed him to be in ir- other than the best health and spirits, id -A p<Tsonal friend of the Senator said: >n ' I tell you no man can smoke twenty ne Havana cigars a tiny, ana Keep up mc d. practice without encountering certain death. It is a hazardous tiling to do, I'd and Matt Carpenter is doing it. You Jil observe the consequence. Matt is a slave ey of tobacco, and it is killing him slowly, *y but surely. He is wasted so that his ro limbs have become emaciated to the n" semblance of pipe stems. They call it rheumatism, but it is tobacco and noth?f ing else that has wasted him away to this extent, and it will continue its .is work until death steps in and claims ,or another victim.1" he The recent sinking of several men-of war together, in South American waters, i(i recalls the battles ot the classic age, &c when the recognized mode of fighting was to " ram " tne enemy s vesac-i mm ft' a heavy prow of iron or brass, and the re sinking of at least half the beaten fleet ce quite a matter of course. Modern warj'n fare, however, contains not a few strikJy ing instances of the same kind. At the *e battle of Sluys, under Edward III., an n" English crew, feeling their ship settling L'(' down, boarded and carried the nearest ?n Frenchman just in time, their own vesrs sel sinking the moment they had quitted Pr her. Sir Richard Grenville, in 1586, performed a similar feat, floating him*e self in a raft alongside the heavy Span ish galleon whose guns had shattered his light cruiscr, and captured her while his J0 own ship sank unheeded. A fjpw yews later the same h?#o kept at bay fiftyilt three Spanish sail for a whole night ie with his single ship the Revenge, sinking .a four of them, and at length bidding the gunner blow up his vessel with all hands. She sank, however, before the ^ order could be obeyed. In one of the x- I errant, son. fifflits of the last century, a 'j* French and an English ship went down side by side before the grappling-irons 10 could be cast olF, and very few of either crew were saved, a JJ When the Duke of Argyll, father of the Marqu's of Lorne, Canada's Governor-General, arrived in New York, on a Cunard steamship, lie was interviewed before he could land by the ubiquitous r- reporters, one of whom described the ) Scotch nobleman and his family as fole. lows: " Then came a pleasant, somewhat ts stout gentleman, with red hair, gray a whiskers and slightly freckled face, who, in it was whispered, was the Duke of is Argyll. lie wore a dark, mixed summer y v ercoat, standing collar and black in cravat; and although he had three or ly four servants in attendance, wsis littered J. up with the small traps of a traveler, i" On the Duke's arm w:is his eldest draughts ter. Lady Elizabeth Campbell, a tall, delicate-complexioned blonde, with light id auburn hair and pale face. She wore a r. black cloak of some plain stuff, with a le black fur collar, over an ordinary travel1 ing-dress. Behind this couple came Lord 1. Walter Campell, a younger son of the ts duke, and almost an exact picture, savis ing tliat he looks younger, and that his j <e hair is redder, of his brother, the Mar- i h quis of Lorne. Lord Walter wore a j bluo flannel yaehtmnn's suit, a blue i chccked shirt and black tie. He escorted liis younger sister. Lady Mary Campbell, a pretty young woman of eighteen or twenty, with wavy auburn hair, who was dressed like her sister in travelingdress and plain black cloak." THE NEWSBOY'S GIFT. ? A. Crippled Cincinnati Kemboy Preiruti the City with a Library--Story of Ills Life. The Cincinnati Commercial says: Down in the old museum building, at the corner of Third and Sycamore streets, in a narrow back room with a single window, lives John King, the veteran newsboy. For ten years that cramped and comfortless room has been his solitary home. He has all this time done his own cooking and washing and mending, and, through industry and economy, has at last placed himself in a position to become a public benefactor. The history of the man, borne down as he has been by frequent and severe calamities, and of his noble benefaction ?that of 2,500 select volumes to the public library?are worth here recountf'he history of the collection and of its i. r.,11 rdJtJIll/ UYVnet 19 Jiu.ll U1 lliicicob. IJUUU King, though still a newsboy, and the efficient secretary of the Union, is now thirty-nine years old. His pleasant countenance is familiar on Fourth street, where he stands, papers in hand, and supported by a crutch, from five o'clock until eight o clock in the morning, and from four until six in. the afternoonHe was a farmer boy by birth, and had fate been kinder, he would, no doubt, have still been a tiller of the soil in Cass county, Michigan, where his father's family still reside. But at the age of seventeen a kick on the left thiirli crippled him for life. For three years he hoobled around on crutches, when he was attacked by rheumatism, and his limbs so drawn up that he could get around only by crawling on his hands and knees. One' day, while crawling about the room, he struck his knee against a sharp object, which, with the help of a blundering surgical operation, stiffened the limb for life. Both legs were now useless, and for five years the poor boy was bed-ridden. It was during this time that the passion for reading was begotten- There were but few books in the neighborhood. \\ ^at there were he greedily devoured, and mentally resolved that should it ever be in his power he would have a big library of choice books which should be all his own. At the age of twenty-five he got off his bed and for three years hobbled about the house, but coula do no work. Then he went to Detroit, and in the summer of 1868 came to Cincinnati, a total stranger and a cripple for life in both legs. A situation was obtained at Spence Brothers' tobacco factory, but hardly a fortnight had elapsed before he was taken down with the smallpox, which kept him in the pesthouse for six months. He states that during tkis period his courage droped, and he cared very little, if life was to be so hard, to longer live: After leaving the pesthouse he went back to Spence Brothers1 factory to work, and began living in the little, fnmiolio/1 rnnm in flip hlliMinc at the corner of Third and Sycamore streets, which is still his home. The work he had in the tobacco factory w;is such as is commonly done by children, and three dollars a week was all that he could make by the greatest industry. It was with difficulty that life could be sustained in that time of high prices on so small a sum, and King's necessities soon drove him to look for other work, when he became a newsboy. In the new vocation life becam^easier. The work was lighter and the rewards more generous, and he conceived the idea or laying up money enough to buy him a home and a library. To that end for ten years every energy was bent. Whenever he saw a book that he thought valuable and that could be bought cheap, he bought it. Some of them lie read in his leisure hours, and others he laid away for that far-off time when, in his own little home and -with enough to live on. he could sit down for a " big read." The ten years we have referred to saw but one interruption to his work as a newsboy, and that came in the shape of another misfortune. A blind man, who was a broom maker, prevailed upon him to go to Sabina, Clinton county, this State, and with his savings, which then amounted to $50, buy a broom machine, which he claimed they could operate together with a handsome prolit to botn. J.111S was aone, nui in ;v short time the firm failed, 8150 in debt. Kins then came back to Cincinnati, and in time sent back to Sabina the full amount of the claims there existing against himself and the blind man. His earnings were about $1 a day, and up to the time of the Adae failure things went along quite smoothly. By that failure, however, $600 was lost, over and above what he is likely to get back. This sum was half the savings of ten years, which had been so religiously set apart for a little home and a " big read " in his old age. The loss of so much money, while it did not discourage him. made the realization of his hopes much more uncertain, and at the very best placed them many years further in th<* future.* The building in which he lives is an old rookery in which there are fifty families. The thought occurred to King after his loss by the Adae failure that the building might burn down some night and his books with it. lie had always intended to donitehis books to the public library at his death, and now that death was likely to come before he could read them at his leisure, iis lie had desired, he concluded to make the donation to the library safe by giving them to it now. Mr. King is of a cheerful and hopeful disposition, and sis would be expected from what has precided is well read. Since the organization of the Newsboys' Union he has been its secretary, and he has found much satisfaction in helping to lift the boys up. He states that the newsboys of Cincinnati are an entirely different class from what they were six or seven years ago. The boys of that time have disappeared, and those who have taken their places have been much better cared for and instructed, and show it daily in their conduct. A Man-Eating Horse. The Knoxville (Tenn.) Chronicle says: We have information of a terrible affray which occurred in Anderson county with a vicious horse. .Tolin Coward, the young son of widow Coward, and a member of the mercantile firm of Worthington & Coward, went into the stable where there was an old family horse, which had been known to be always as gentle as a dog. Suddenly the beast was seized with a fit of viciousness, and pitched upon young Coward. Hefore he could getaway from the ferocious animal lie was almost literally eaten up. The horse had bitten almost all the muscles and flesh loose from both arms above the elbow; had also bitten him furiously in the sides, on the hips and other places. Dr. Coward, uncle of the young man, was summoned and gave nil jthe surgical assistance and relief possible, but the wounds were of a very dan gerous and serious nature, and it was feared he could not survive. A negro boy went into the same horse iftenvard and was also set upon by it and pretty roughly used, and it was with difficulty lie was rescued. The horse was never known to be vicious before, and its conduct could not lie explained. Young Coward wanted it killed, but nothing was done about it. The horse seemed firally to get over the spell and was taken out and worked in the plow the same day. Gen. Henry Lee was the author of the phrase, " First in war, first in peace, first i in the hearts of his fellow-citizens." I j wm in a series of resolutions ore- : Minted to the National House of Repre- | pentatives, December, 1799. I - 1 Beware! X. Keep wakeful eye and ear, my friend, For all mankind; Thou canst not know nor tell, my trilt What larks behind Tho flattering speech, the gracious smile? How little truth, how mnch of jiuile, Is hid within the heart the while. Beware !' II. Remember, e'en thyself, my friend, Hast cralty grown; Consider how deceit, my friend, Erst deeply sown Within thy breast, alow led upon Its kindlier nature, until won Thq victory o'er thy peaco undone. Beware! nr. Ah, life's a losing game, my friend, A taunting blank? When love itself is tricked, my friend, By wealth and rank; Take council of thy wit, and seek No lavors that thy leelings pique? Of both the fawning and the meek Beware! i Trust him who makes thee pay, my frievd And squarely, too, For all he grants; 'tis he, my iriend, Alone that's true. Ho hath no subterfuge, no plan To cheat or cozen; such a man Thou canst respect, and waive this ban Beware! / ?Erratic Enrique, in Puck ITEMS OF INTEREST. . The hair crop is very short this swu son. Oil-wells vary in depth from 100 to 1,100 feet. Walkinz skirts?The garden's mar ginal path" Sticking to the bitty end- Chewing rhubarb root. There are sixty-eight women preachers ip the United States. London has 220 dry days in the year and Dublin but 150. Kansas .expects to raise 32,000,000 bushels of wheat this season. The Indian possessions of Great, Britain have a population of 241,000,000. The very latest is fish flour for domestic use, made from dried codfish ground. The Bank of England was the firs joint-stock bank established in England. Father Time has but little credit in this world. Two-thirds of the people " take no note of time." ' _ The Japanese government has just purchased in New York State 200 Me-. rino and Cotswold sheep. The dearer and more gaudy the silk handkerchief the further it is ailowed'to stick ou of the coat pocket. A woman in Mt. Sterling, Ky., eightteen years of age, has been married sc: years and has three children. It is very dangerous to mate up your judgment concerning a young lady's weight hy measuring her sighs. A small boy in New York was brought to life after having been at the bottom of the Hudson for eight minutes. An article in an exchange h called "A Woman After All." insatiate female! would not ten thousand -or so suffice P She may be after all, but it is hardly probable that she will catch them. ?Norrislown Herald. An earthen bowl filled with rice and fish, with four lighted candles stuck into it, and the whole surmountecj by a calf's head, was found on the stoop of a New Orleans house. Somebody had undertaken to put the inmates under a voudoo spell. ^ilanUnnf fair nf Tnrlifi an XIICKl^au vatpuouv iMu v? ?...? .. .... nually held at boneooor, on the Ganges. Thousands of horses and hundreds of -elephants may then be seen, and the barcain-driving and deceit of elephnpt-sellers seem to be fully as great as the tricks of horse-dealers at home. The price of elephants ha? risen enormously of late years. In 1835 the price of elephants was 8225 per head; on the Bengal government requiring seventy of these animals in 1875, the sum of $700 each was sanctioned, but not an elephant could l>c procured at that price. Seven hundred and fifty dollars ig now the lowest rate at which young animals, and then chiefly females, can be bought. Tuskers of any pretensions command from 84.000 to $7,500, but the Koomeriah, or best strain of elephant, will fetch almost any price; $10,000 is not an unknown liirurc. A Midnight Duel. The Washington correspondent of the Boston Journal waites: Among the many bloody duels on record as having been foug't by Congressmen was one in which James Jackson, of Georgia?who had been and who was afterward a United States Senator?was the diallenged party. He was an Englishman v.., Kivtli hut-.Iip wpnt. tn Savannah when a lad, studied laffigjfflfe a leading Fivemason and foughTgallantly in the Revolutionary war. He killed LieutenantGovernor Wells in 1780 in a duel, and was engaged in several other "affairs of . honor,'" until he finally determined to accent a challenge on such terms :is would muke it his hist duel. So he prescribed as the terms that each party, armed with a double-barreled gun loaded with buckshot, and with a hunfing-knife, should row himself in a skiff % to designated points on opposite sides of the Savannah river. When the city clock struck twelve each should row his skiff to a small island in the middle of the river, which was wooded and < overed with underbrush. On arriving at the island each was to moor his skiff, cfoml it- inr tun and then ITO about on the island until the meeting took place. The seconds waited on the main land until after one o'clock, when they heard three gun shots and loud and angry cries. Then all wis still. At daylight, as had been agreed upon, the seconds went to the island, and found Jackson lying on the ground, insensible from the loss of blood, and his anfaironist lying across h;m, dead. Jackson recovered, but would never relat-- his f experience on that night, nor \y:i he ever challenged again, lie died in this city, while serving his second term :is United States Senator, March li), Words of Wisdom. A hopeless person is one who deserts himself. Ignorance has no light; error follows a false one. A tine coat may rowr a i?oi, diu w\ n conceals one. . There is no grief like the grief which does not speak. ITe who blackens others does not whiten himself. Genius is sometimes arrogant; knowledge is alwavs diflident. We are never so proud and so humble as when we are praised. What is styled timidity is probably nothing but the fear of showing t<><? little merit. A good constitution is like a nnwy box?its full value is never known i.i!l it is broken. .. . . .. liooa lasit'isuic muiuvi.> ...? that is why it cannot be cither imitated . or acquired. In {general, there is no one with whom life drags so disagreeably as with him who tries to make it shorter. It the shoe of a monarch could do as much as the monarch himself, the court would be divided between his majesty and his shoe.