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? ' ?- ... - ' . ' ' . .,: '' ' "??" > ".ft' '. "': -r^Vf)t-?r SwSslI^Sw: ? >?%' '%*' ' ' *' >j.t .!: '. ,.. ,.. * v rij,!..,' . r i. .- 'W;vu 'J/nvAfi V ft* /v ' * " '* * ' ' ? v ~ v'/ - ;;t , g%gJ| ' ? .; :v:-; " . ::|| ..' ? >p r ' V ? - . ' 1 BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 22, 1879. NO. 20. VOLUME XXV. -J . - i ~~~ t i ?? i ?? I m.? mi.?> VMn The Endless Procession. u Down the vista oi trie ages, ^ Saints and sinners, fools and ca?0e, Marching onward, blow and solemn, ^ Go in never-emding column? (3 Here the honest, here the knave? S With a rythmic step sublime, ? To the grave. ? Like'the rolling o4 the river, n Going on and on forever, c Xever resting, nover staying, ? Never for an instant straying, ^ Peer and peasant, lord and slave, Equals soon to mix and mingle il In the grave. h S uuty Ciiuuui, uui ?ui juccvsuio^ g For a moment break the measure; d They ar? marching on to doom, p They are moving to the tomb, ? All the coward, all the brave, Soon to level all <ljstinction ^ In the grave. ft Since the morning ot creation, j1 Without break or termination, gj Ever on the line is moving a All the loved and all the loving', ei All that mothers ever gave? b On to silbnce and to slumber ' In the grave. Here no bribe the bond can weaken, t' Horo no substitute is taken: S( Each one for himsolf?no other, gj Son nor father?no, nor brother; p Lovo the purest cannot save; tl Each alono the roll must answer At the grave. ^ Who commands the dread procession h Who shall know no retrogression T p Who can be the great director ? w Ha! that grim and grizzly specte", | Ilim that sin to satan gave; Death, the mighty king of terrors, S1 And the grave. b P THE WRONG PASSENGER. t< a: AX ENGLISH LOVE STOItY. j "Gerald St. Albans is ccming here," said Isabel Marsh, a bright smile light- ^ Kooiitr nf hor 91 ing Up UIB &UU, liUigUlU UbUUlj V>? u?l face. C "Colonel St. Albans?" cried Annie Grey, the young and lovely cousin of 11 Miss Marsh. " How delightful! It is ti ve years since he went away to that hor- ^ rid India and I was hfteen then?a mere school girl?but still I remember that he was one of the handsomest men in the ^ Elace! How pleased his sister Helen will S! e!" ? . , "Certainly. This note is from her, u saying tliat they?herself and Colonel St. Albans?will do themselves the pleas- Is ure of calling here the day after to-mor- c row." u " Splendid! I'll set my cap at once!" cried the gushing Anhie. ' Don't be absurd, cousin! Colonel St. li. Albans is a traveled man, and quite familiar with pretty faces by this time, y Besides, he is an artist of no mean ability, : and his character for gallantry in action s stood very high when he was in the sl army." ? " Heigho! Well, I only wish there had 1 been a hero in our family! But what nJ makes you look so grave. Aunt LetitiaP". S1 addressing a seiene-faccd, brown-haired tKi'rtt' urlin pncrfffrpn ? VU!?W1 Ul p?ww kitii IJ , *? ?V ?I?M VM0"0VV' in sewing. Miss Letitia lifted her sad brown eyes, soft and beautiful still, and guiJlcea at ?. lier younj; relatives from beneath the 1 long, black lashes. ? "Oil, let Aunt Letitia alone!" said 11 Isabel, half pettishly; " she is working ? and dreaming dreams as usual. And sh?; is too old to care :ibout brave and bund- ? some gentlemen like Colonel St. Albans.' * , Letitia's pale cheek flushed red; her eyes gleamed with lire; for the moment she was lar more beautiful than either P of the girls beside her. She made no reply. but directly gathered up her work , and leit the room. # J1 Annie gazed alter her with open eyes. 15 "Good gracious! What have I said? |j' She looked like a young girl who has d just met her lover. Did you see that red 0 on her cheek, Isa? Brighter than the rouge in my toilet-cruse! Aunt Letitia , must have been handsome once!" ? She wiis the beamy of the neighbor- 11 hood. She is elegant now. thoughevery- ? body knows that she is pasxee. There was some gossi p ab?ut her and this Colo- sl nel St. Albans once, vou k*ow. She * ' * si saved mm irorn urowning on one occa- sion, and he was the prince of devotion ? for a week; then, man-like, he forgot his 11 gratitude and sailed for India. Men are ? very consistent creatures, ray dear." ? Meanwhile Letitia Marsh, who was l( the sister of Isabel's father, went to her y chamber and laid her work carefully ~ away in its neat basket; for she was an a old maid, and old maids, you know, Mways do everything with care if we may t1 credit traditio?. il She unlocked a drawer and took from a thence a small escritoire, which opened h to the touch of a key which she wore t always attached to a slender gold chain rouna her neck. r The lifted lid displayed a few letters, ? a bunch of faded flowers tied with blue 0 ribbon, and a miniature case of dead 8 gold. The case she did not open?per- 0 naps even yet she could not trust herscif J to look upon the face hidden there, but '< she pressed the faded flowers to her?ips a and held the yellow letters a moment a against her heart. P "Yes." sh? said, sadly, "I am too 8 old. The girls were right. And I am c 60 very slow to learn the lesson of grow- 8 ing away from youth. Too old for love, a hut not too old for suffering! Heaven * j help me!" c ' She rose and looked in the glass. A 0 stranger would have pronounced the 8 face reflected there fair and sweet ana j: youthful still; but Letitia Marsh?stem f critic upon herself?saw only the lines c of care on the white brow and the tran- 1 sient threads of silver in the dark, bright r hair. a "Yes," she said, wearily, turning 11 awav, " I am too old. And yet, despite 8 it all, I love him still! Oh. Gerard. J Gerard! why did you win my heart and e then cast it back to me desolate and un- ? blessed? Oh, Heaven! why are women ? created with these intense longings for S love, love, always love, and theh suf- c fered to drag out a dull existence, miss- 2 ing always all that can make existence 1 life?" 1 She paced the floor softly, her eyes [ " weeping tears bitterer than those which 1 cyme to younger eyes, uer woiunn? ; heart -wrung with a pain fiercer than : anything which comes to her sex in J carelcss girlhood. But when the storm 1 was over?and that was soon, for Letitia 1 Marsh's nature was a well-disciplined J nature?site went down to the parlor \ just as serene and quiet and self-pos- j sess^d as usual. } And when, three days later, Colonel j St. Albans called and was devoted to the ' young ladies and coldly courteous to * herself. Miss Letitia met him with j stately grace, and no feature of her face betrayed that any old, sweet memory of him lay hidden in her he?rt. Nobody minded her, and alter the first polite greetings St. Albans did not ] address her. She was very glad of this, : inasmuch as it saved her from the neces- j 6ity ot talking, and she knew that there would be a suspicious trembling in her I voice, and besides she wanted to soothe her sore * heart with watching St. 1 Allans. He bad grown very handsome in those j five vyears of absence, but she saw that 1 there were wrinkles round his eyes and i white hairs amone the brown on his i 1^* temples. This first visit of his was like all the others, 30 far as Letitia was concerned. He was courteous to her, but never friendly, and some fine self-conscious LC83 of her weakness for him tn jetitia avoid him. He visited at Mr. Marsh's frequer md Miss Isabel Marsh was very g rally supposed to be the attraction, leed, the young lady herself was v anguine of her success in winning ;a!lant colonel, and on one occas he was gushingly girlish enough to ure Aunt Letitia that when she was aistress of the new house which olonel was building about live miles othing wouid afford her mfcre pleas han to give her "dearest aunt1' a ho here. When the snow fell Colonel St. Alb! avited a party of his friends to the n ,ouse for a sort of " house-warmin upper, Letitia among the rest. At li he thought she would not go, but l'sa eclared it would look " ocd," and p le would think that she had not'f otten that "old romantic episode;"a I S3 Letitia decided not to give " p le " any chance to talk. The colonel proposed to introduce 1 imerican amusement of sledging, e had several sledges on purpc sabel went with the colonel in his o ledge, and was as happy as a queen, a lithe other girjs were reaGy to cue avy. The sledging was none of 1 est, for a new snow had fallen and 1 reather had not yet cleared. The wi ras blowing furiously and the air v lick with flying snow. Somehow, ae darkness, the colonel's horse m: ged to upset the sledge, and in c< ?quence a half-dozen more sJed, tiared the same fate, and half the topi arty were mixed up together in m< icable confusion. The re-embarkation was of cou urried, particularly ou the part olonel St. Albans, who had a rest: orse, and one quite indisposed to w atiently for passengers in such a furk rind as was then racing. They had gone full a mile, the colo olding the reins with both hands, wl e heard a low and tremulous vo ly, ' Pardon me, Colonel St. Alba ut I fear you have taken the wrc assenger." "Good Heaven!" he cried, in strc r?itnt5on " T,etitia!" " Yes. Do not be offended; I was i ) blame for it. The snow blinded r ad I thought surely you were brotl ohn." Through the tiger-skins lie li Tapped around her St. Albans v ire he felt her tremble. He dr loser to her side, moved by some i jntrolable impulse to speak what v 1 his heart. "Letitia," he said, hoarsely, "once fere not strangers." " But that time is past." , " Yes," he said, bitterly; "yourcapr .lined my happiness and made me a A itisfied and useless wanderer." "My caprice!" sh? said, slowly, o not understand." Letitia was growing dizzy, and 1 rorld of snow spun round and round 1 ire her bewildered eyes, lie turr pon her sharply. You don't understand! Then let : spiain. Why did you not answer j .'tterP?the letter in which I told y !mt I loved you?in which I asked y ) be my wife. I was a coward, Letit ove made me distrust myself, elsi lould surely have spoken to you ;ead of writing. But I wrote', an< sked you to answer me as you felt, n told you that if you rejected me y eed only keep silent. And you k< lent." " That letter never reachcd me," 5 lid, faintly. " It did not? But if it hud?if it hut1 His hand sought hers, all unmind f iiis horse: and the animal took 1 berty of deciding on its own course a 'ent olTin the very opposite directi om the right one; but St. Albans 1 ot observe it. He was too intent etkia to observe the liorse. " I loved you. Gerard," she said, soft My answer could have been nothi ut that." " My darling, change that form of < ression!" he cried,eagerly. "Say, >veyou, Gerard!'" And she said it, with his lips holdi ersso close they dared not make a 11 tke in the words he dictated. But s dded immediately, " It is too late ream these dreams, Gerard. I am 1 Id." lie laughed gleefully. Just lour years younger than ye iethusalehof a lover!" said lie, pre ig her closer to his heart. " It is ightnow, dearest; and I thankHea^ sr sending me tne wrong passenger, tie is the right one after all." Of eourse the girls were all grea nrprised at the turn affairs had tak nd wore ready to exclaim against 1 mprudenoe of that "awfully designi Id maidbut Letitia was so happy : ould afford to be talked about *, a Dve, the* great rejuvenator, made 1 oung again. trangc Method or Catching Ouui The Naples (Italy) correspondent lie London Times writes: The Neap tans have their shooting season as w s the English, and it is now at leight. If they cannot boast of grou hey do of quails, and these are com: a by thousands. If you cast your < ound the bay you will see that ale very mountain top is stretched a xi r series of nets, attached to poles o Teat height. They have long been ourse of preparation?perhaps since 1 2th of August, for who knows when I ^reign visitors will come in? They i a capricious as many human travelc nd are regulated by unseen atm iheric influences. A clear sky and pnt.lp Rmit.npastprlv wind sf>r>m tn lie 1 icst conditions for their journey, j uch as we li:id last night; and as sc a it is dark the watchers and th riends :issembie at the parala 011 wlii ach net is erected, waiting with an ius expectation. It is a festive occasii o much so that the jollity is grea han caution demands. The wind ound to be somewhat too high, so do ome the nets. But there is a li here is a rush in the air and up go 1 lets again, and one hears a " puff, pu a the poor birds are intercepted. Evi iow and then there is a haul down ecure the prisoners and then haul i ["his goes on till the morning, when I nemy appeal's in double force. A cro >f peasants have assembled, who sh< ill they are hoarse in order to drive i >irds into their nets, so that from lawn of day there is no repose my one within a mil? of the para Jesides these there is an army of spoi nen armed with guns, many of wh 10 prudent man would touch. But hem keep at a certain distance from lets, as tiie law commands, or they \ >e denounced or receive some perso tiinrr A tfonhnH t rv orcrv nof i a n / ?, IIJU1 illlHIVliVU ?-V V- I VIJ AAV u ^ ?b v.. 'all of blind quails as decoys for visitors. They have had their e jierced by a red-hot wire, and tl nelancholy plaints, mistaken for si ng, woo many a bird to its doom, snow a priest wljo has one hundred ; ifty of these mutilated birds, and is e lequently one of the most success sportsmen ot the locality. What Driest does cannot be'wrong, and his imple is pretty generally followed. Sir Henry Bulwer, uncle of I> Lytton, for months fancied him iffected with paralysis of the legs, refused to put a hot to the ground, was wheeled in a chair by a serv: One day the Rhone steamer on whicl was traveMng caught fire, and the c tain having run the boat ashore, a pi was thrown o?ft. by which the pas: gers might land. The first person this new bridge, and stepping niir down, was Sir Henry. When safe shore he remembered himself and ea out to his servant," Carry me, Forst But it was too late. Forster refuse Va nn? mAra nf liia moofoifr\l lir onrl ucai uiviV/ vi iuu uiiwiA/i a ?viui Henry walked very well to the da; his death. side Weather Warnings. tj The weather is merely the state ?i ^ condition of the air. Heat and cold t moisture and drouth, wind and calm ~ all make themselvfs felt by us princi pally in and through this element. Tin ion study l'ie rather is but the study o the variations of the air. tl~" Man is so dependent upon the weather j not only for his comfort but even for hii off subsistence, that to be able to a9certaii ^ its coming changes has naturally al me Wliys been to him an object of extrem< solicitude. The weather is one of th< . subjects upon which the credulity o mankind has in every age been taker j advantage of. . I Many people remember the prophetic ',x , ! and weather almanacs with: "Th( ' _ j dull, though mild," "fair and frosty,' . ! "mild for the season," " frosty and mon or7 fair," "rain, perhaps hail,'* "windy perhaps rain," and other phrases which co" were scribbled at intervals along the ,v calendar and were sometimes luck] f guesses. About forty years ago an Irish lor schoolmaster named Patrick Murphy lSe" j who was a great mathematical scliolar. i published a "Weather Almanac " in Lon,ntl ] don.in which he predicted the nineteenth , ! of January to be by far the coldest day ol | Mie season, anu, as iuck wouiu nave it | so it was. The fact was noticed in th< n j papers, and there set in a most enormous I demand for "Murphy's Almanac." Ovei m i 150,000 copies were sold in three weeks, m_ and for several years after " Murphy's :)n" Almanac" continued in great demand, though it never again made any decided rry hit in the weather prophecy line, in ?x* J various countries, and, of course, in various languages, there are many prors^ verbs in rhyme as well as in prose about .ot the variations in the weather and theii causes. ait The belief that Saint Swithin's 01 )U9 Swithum's day (the fifteenth of July] . apoears general?that if rain should acl fall on that day there will be rain on len { e?.ch of the following thirty-nine days, lce Swithin was a Bishop of Winchester, ns' whe died A.D. 8(&. He desired that he nS might be buried in the open churchyard, ! " where the drops of rain might wet his ,n5^ grave," thinking that " no vault was sc ! good to cover his grave as that ol 10t ! heaven." This*was done; but in 96? Qe? i some of his admirers removed his reier j mains, with the intention of placing ; them in the choir of their church, but ia(1 ; just when the funeral rites were com' ras ! mencing a terrible rainfall drove everj ew j Derson under cover, and it rained so violn" J lently for forty days that the desfgn was ras i abandoned. There are many weather ! rhymes about Saint Swithin's day. A we I Scotch proverb runs thus: | Saint Swithin's day p't ye do rain, I For iorty days it, will remain; Saint Swithin's day, an' yo bo lair, J fu." iurtj imp i rv 111 iam juim. ,4t! In 1807 it.rained in England oa the ; day in question, and a dry time followed: . c j and the same in 1808. In 18'8 and 1819 it w:ts dry on the fifteenth, and a \T very dry time in each case fallowed. K'a The other summers between 1807 and 1818 appear to have come under the gen. eral proposition, "that in a majoritj of the summers of England, a showerj ou period which, with some latitude as tc "u time and local circumstances, may be la. | admitted to constitute daily rain for ? 1 j forty days, does come on about the time ]n" ! indicated by the tradition of St, 1 | ! Swithin." The raining saints in France nd j belong to June, and are Saints Medard, ^ou Oervais and Protais. In Flanders it is ?Pl I St. Gadelieve, and Germany has three, j The tradition as to the forty days' rain iJie ! applies to each. In Scotland where saints' days are not observed, July 3 it ' i the day. In different climates the date j varies. :',(j j From out of a mass of old weather :n(l ! rhymes and sayings we have collated the | following: j The evening red and the morning gray, on I Is the sign ol a bright and cheery day. | The evening #?ay and the morning red, ly | Put on your hut or you'll wet your bead. IU^ j The corn swells into ripeness in July, ;x_! and the farmer's saying is: . j j A phower ol ra>n in July, When the corn begins to fill, | Is worth a plough and oxen ! And all that belongs there still. 11S ' "" j]ie The sailor notes the tightening of th ' ^ | cordage on his sl\ip as a sign of comins 00 ! rain. Swallows lly close to the ground I or water before rain. When hens an j observed to pick themselves in?rc thai; ,ur j usual, rain is war. Swine carry straw ss. ; in their mouths and toss about their beda]j j ding efore a storm. Cats are bserved ren ; to scratch the wall or a post before wind for i and to wash their laces before a thaw: Winter thunder t]y t Bodes summer hunger. * en, ' " Who dofis his coat on a winter day the I Will gladly put it on in May." ing 1 The following is full jf poetical exdie I pression: nd | J1 the moor, shows like a silver shield, ler i Be not; afraid to reap your field; I Hut if she rises haloed lound, \ .Soon we'll tread on deluged ground. lis* A farm-yard couplet very tersely inof forms every one that: ol- II the cock goes crowing to bed ell He'll certainly rise with a watery head, its In the winter, when the muon's horns sc, are sharp and well defined, frost is exing i pected. jye ! Clear moon ing | Frost Boon. fj If the old moon embraces the new j' : moon stormy weather is foreboded. ]IC ! I saw the moon late yestreen he W the auld moon in hor arm, I And it we gang to sea, master, '1 I t'eur we'll come to harm. qs'J This observation used to be regarded as infallible: the I If there is in October much frost and wind, Ugt | January and Februay both mild you'll find; (011 | Hut when in the autumn the weather is cloai pjj. j The celd wind lull soon will appear. ich i The following is a hint to base-ball xi-' players and housekeepers: nn, | Do not let October flies ter Lend you to expect warm skies. 1S I The following prediction is based upon | tho law of equality: , { ' ! Stops tho winter long away, ^!* | So much longer will it stay. lJry ! We may not improperly conclude this (j article with some lines which were writap j ten by Edward Jenner, the discoverer I and propagator of vaccination. wd j SIGNS OF ItAIN. 3Ut I (Addressed by Dr. Jenner to a lady whe the | asked him il he thought it would rain to-mor llic for The hollow winds begin to blow, a The clouds look black, the grass is low; The soot lalls down, the spaniels sleep, j* The spiders trora their cobwebs creep; 1 . Last night the sun went pale to bed, IPC The moon in lialos hid her head; .The boding shephard heaves a sigh, (Till i^or SC0- a rainbow spans the sky; n?" The walls ato damp, the ditches smell, ftgfi Closed is the pink-eyed pimpernell; the The srjunlid toads at dusk wore seen yes Slowly crawling o'er the green; ieir Loud quacks the ducks, the peacocks cry, ng- The distant hills are looking nigh; j Hark, how the chairs and tables crack, iind Bcny'8 )"?'nt8 aro on the rack, And see yon rooks, how odd their flight -fill They imitate the gliding kite, Or seem precipitato to fall, ' 51 As it they felt the piercing ball; ex" | How restless ar? the snorting swine, The busy fly disturbs the kine, Low o'?r the grass the swallow wings, The cricket, too, how loud she sings, Puss on the hearth with velvet paws Sits wiping o'er her whisker'd jaws? sell 'Twill-burely rain, I see with sorrow, and I Our iaunt must bo nut off to-morrow. but int. 1 he A German doctor has started the ad ap- vociicy of night air as a sort of pauacef ank for all diseases, chronic or acute. Th sen- remedy is an old one, but even taken in on side the house it is more likely to kiJ tbly than cure. Waterton, the naturalist t on who lived to extreme old aj;e, to th lied last slept with his window quite oper er." winter and summer, without injury d to Notwithstanding this, there are abund Sir ant examples to show that, even fi y of healthy people, the night air at moe seasons is unhealthy.?Iron. Courtship Among the Hudson Bay Halff Breeds. ? Francois or Gabriel generally comes . early in the evening, and having been - duly embraced and nand-shaken oy the 3 entire family, is at once invited to dine, f The fact of its being past the dinner hour makes no difference, as the invita. tion is extended in accordance with hosi pi table custom. The father of l'hiloi mel takes his seat at table with his guest, being in duty bound to eat with every J one he entertains, and the female mem3 bers of the family wait upon them. Both f proceed to make themselves omnipresent i as far as possible. Their fingers are everywhere, and_ignoring such confining J influences as knives and forks, they soon 11 attain an enviable state of greasiness. .During the progress or tne meal tne nost ' is untiring in his efforts to overload Ills ? guest with buffalo-hump and tea. He i informs him that he eats no more than a i sparrow; that it is a constant mystery ' to him how he is able to preserve life at i all on so small a quantity oi food; that . he confidently expects him to become a , saint in glory ere long, but intends doing his best not to let him go up from his i roof by reason of starvation; that Philf omel has an appetite something like his . own, and that It has been a cause of i anxiety to him all her lite long. While ? thus commiserating his guest's poor aj>' petite, won pere is rapialy and bounti fully helping himself, and makes amends i for what he is pleased to call his visitor's abstemiousness. When both have 1 eaten enough to cause immediate surfeit, l and the father-in-law in prospect is blue i in the face, a smoke is suggested. While the smoking is going on Philo; mel deftly sweeps from the table the ' remnants of the repast and retires to a corner of the apartment by herself. ' Here, when the fumigation is over, the ? enamored Gabriel join3 her and his do1 ing so is a signal ior the rest of the i family to become suddenly uuconsoious of their presence. This oblivion does i duty on such occasions for a separate ' apartment. Whatever incidents of a . tender nature occur are supposed to be > invisible to any per.on save the princii pals. Everybody acta 011 this theory. F Even the respected but dissipated host ? produces his black bottle with the hoarded store of rum, and drinks it him; self, under the assumed belief that his 1 young guest is in the next room. The small brothers-in-law that are to be inr dulge in a rather vindictive skirmish over a moccasin game in utter ignoi'ance i of any bodily pressure; and tne seven sisters of Philomel criticise the cut of . her lover's garments and the classic but retiring beauty of his countenance with a charming unconsciousness of his cl.jse proximity. Philomel, plastic and pinvble Philomel, is in no manner abashed at being wooed in the presence of her . relatives, and even becomes herself the ; wooer on discovering that Gabriel is in a certain degree timid. She intimates t by caresses of the haud that they are , alone, and converses in a tone of voice [ sufficiently loud to dispel the idea that . they are alone. If Gabriel recovers r courage in some measure, he looks upon - Philomel admiringlv, as he would upon > any other thing of beauty, and it is not > long before she becomes conscious of the observation. Then it is a study to . watch the airs assumed by this half Dreca Dene. a;.e is lis wen verseuin uie > freemasonry of lier sex as if born with a white, skin and reared in Madison \ Square. There is no difference in her mode of action; the only difference is in | the effecr. ? Gabriel, unless he is an adept at the ( business, cannot entirely rid himself of > the depressing effect of twelve pairs of eyes taking in hi# glances. lie is, in consequence, not so susceptible to her wiles a3 he would be if otherwise situated. At first he limits his love-making to affectionate looks, caresses, and the simpler forms of speech which convey to her the knowledge that she is the light of his eyes. As the evening advances, and his embarrassment wears off, he ' ventures upon remarks of a more intensely passionate nature, indicative of his love and desire to be first in her afi'ections. The mixed language spoken by the lovers affords an unlimited supply of diminutives; and Gabriel may call his sweetheart by the names of almost all [ animal creation, and yet use but legiti[ mate ppt names. In the Cree tongue he 5 may address her as his musk-ox, or, if he ) desires to become more tender, may call her his must-rat with equal propriety. By a blending of two Indian tongues she becomes a beautiful wolverene, and a | standard but commonplace love-name is : " mv little pig." The half-breed's pet names have all been taken from those of animals that seem to be especially innocent or beautiful in his eyes; and the fact that differ ent persons have different standards of beauty and innocence has led to the indention of an almost unlimited vocabulary of diminutives. When the ladylove is inclined to be stout the names of the larger animals are chosen, and rather liked bv her upon whom they are conferred. We remember that one woman was affectionately called the Megatherium?a name that clung to her , for months as being peculiarly the representative of ideal love. After the lovers have passed a considerable time in this manner alone, as* it were, the sisters and other female relatives of Philomel evince an inclination ' to take part in the wooing. They participate in the conversation by almost i imperceptible degrees, then gather by slow approaches into the corner set apart for the courting, and at last become a radiant but tawny group, sparkling and scintillating in the humor of the heathen tongues. They resolve themselves into a species of whippers-in, condole with each other upon the prospect ive loss of their dear sister, congratulate Gabriel upon having gained the affec| tiona of so irreproachable a maiden as Philomel, and feel assured that their lives will be one of unalloyed happiness. In this way the half-breed lover is wafted into matrimony with a facility 1 and dispatch not easily excelled by her fairer sisters of payed avenues.?Harper's Weekly. i Robbers Outwitted. A monk on his way to Luzarche the other day fell in with a stranger riding 4 in the same direction, with whom he entered into conversation and was charmed with the agreeable sallies of his companion. The latter learning from the monk that he was in charge of a sum of money belonging to this convent, and was proceeding thither, observed that he himself was likewise traveling toward that part of the country, ana that by taking a short cut through the forest they would materially abridge their journey. When they were in the thick of the wood the stranger dismounted from his horse, seized the monk's bridle and with many threats insisted on his delivering up the money he had with him. " 1 do not carry it about me." re[jJied the other; " allow me to get off my lorse, and I will call the lay brother who follows me with the baggage and hand you over the 1,000 livres." The stranger consented, and the monk, rejoining his attendant, took fro a him a purse containing the sum specified and also a pistol, which he hid in his sleeve; then, throwing tne purse on the ground, he waited until the robber was in the act of stooping to pick it up, and shot him through the head. Hastening to the nearest village he related wliatne had done to the authorities, and obtained permission for a troop of gens d'armes to i accompany him to the spot, where thev e found the robber lying stone dead, with - the puree by his side. Searching his ll person, they discovered in a secret t, pocket a whistle, which one of the party e put to his mouth and blew with all his i, force. A few minutes after ten well \ armed individuals arrived from different [? parts of the wood, and a combat enfiued, o which resulted in the death of two of t the gang and the capture of the remainder. A MODERN DIANA. The 8trance Ufe-IU?tory of Lucy Slater Her Career as a Huntress, a 1'auper, Minister and a Vagrant?Dressed 1 Man's Clothing She Wins a Girl's Lovi A letter from Delhi, N. Y., to a Net York paper tells this story of Lucy Sh ter's strange and romantic career: New of the death of Lucy Ann Lobdell Slatei known throughout the Delaware valle as the "Female Hunter of Long Eddy, has been received here, and it recalls most singular life-history. In 1851, Luc Ann Lobdell, daughter of a lumberma: living on the Delaware, near the bound ary line of this county and Sullivan, wa married to a raftsman named Georg Slater. She was then seventeen year *>ld, and was known far and wide for he wonderful skill with the rifle, not onl in targt t-shooting, but in hunting dee and other game, for which the valley wn then noted. After a year of marriei life, Slater deserted his wife and a bab a few weeks old, and has never beei heard from since. Mrs. Slater's parent were poor, and she left her child in thei -i i.!j cuarge, mm name uic uaun \>i un oca donned male attire and adopted the lif of a hunter. The mountains of Dela ware, Sullivan and Ulster counties, ii this State, and the Delaware river coun ties in Pennsylvania, were then fillei with game. For eight years the unfor tunate wife and mother roamed th Woods of that section, making her homi in the wilderness, where she erectec rude cabins for her shelter. She nevei appeared at the settlements except t< procure ammunition and needed sup plies, for which she exchanged skins an< game. Her wild life was one of thrill ing adventure and privation,*and it wa not until she- was broken down by thi exposure and hardships of it that she re turned to the haunts of civilization. Shi wrote a book detailing her adventures ii the woods and giving an account of hei sufferings from cold, hunger and sick ness. She recorded in this book tha oho lin? tilled nnfl hundred and sixtv eight deer, seventy-seven bears, one pan ther and numberless wild-cats and foxes When she returned to Long Eddy she, for a time, resumed the clothing of hei sex, but after recruiting her health sh< again put on male attire and disappear ed. She did not return to the woods but, assuming the name of Joseph Lob dell, she went about the country makinj a living as a music teacher. While en gaged in teaching a singing school a Bethany, Penn., where she was no known, she won the love of a j'oung lad] scholar, a member of one of the leading families of the village. The two wen engaged to be married, but the sex of tin teacher was accidently discovered, am she was forced to fly from the place ii the night to escape being tarred anr feathered. Shortly after this she returnee to Long Eddy, put on women's clothing and. being again in failing health, ap plied for admittance to the almshouse ii this place, where her child had beei placed some years before. When th< child, a bright little girl, was ten yean old, it was aaopted into the family of i farmer in Damascus, Penn. The mothe: remained in the poorhouse. In the spring of 1868 a woman aboul twenty-five years of age applied to the poor authorities of Delaware county foi admittance to the almshouse. She wai in miserable health, but was apparently of more than ordinary intelligence, anc to all appearances respectable. Shi said her name was Marie Louise Perry Wilson. She was from Massachusetts where her parents lived. She had elopet from home with a man named Wilson to whom she was married in Jersey City, but who had deserted her, leavin] ^notlfiito Slio I10H trwn miioli nrirli to return home. Having heard that he: husband, who was a railroad man, wa in Susquehanna, she had started out t< find him, but was taken sick in the cars and not having money enough to pai her way, was put off at Lordville. N< other alternative presenting, she wa forced to enter the pooihouse. She wa taken into the almshouse with the un derstanding that as soon as she was abl to, she should communicate with he family and have them remove her. Sh recovered her health, but in the mean time had made-the acquaintance of Luc; Ann Slater. A strong affection spranj up between the two women, notwith standing the difference in their habits character and intellect." They refusei to be separated, and in the spring o 1869 thev left the poorhouse togethe and for two years they were not hear* from in Delhi. In the summer of th above year a couple calling themselve: the Rev. Joseph Israel Lobdell and wif appeared in the mountain villages c Nlonroe county, Penn. For two year they roamed about that section, liv ing in caves and cabins in the woods subsisting on game, berries, and on th charity of the lumbering foresters scat tered about in this region. They generall appeared at the settlements leading bear which they had tamed. The ma delivered meaningless harangues on re ligious snbjects, and proclaimed liimsel a prophet. Finally they became publi nuisances, and were arrested as vagrant in Jackson township and lodged i: Stroudsburg jail. While they were i jail the discovery that the supposed ma was a woman was made, and soon after ward the prisoners were recognized by A r. i.1. ~ TT ? raitsillttll aruill LJ1C uppci jLycmnaic <1 Lucy Ann Slater and Marie Louis Perry, the paupers of Delhi. They wer returned to this place. They remaine here some time, when they again lefl and until 1876 roamed the woods c Northern Pennsylvania, leading their vn grant life, and insisting that they wer man and wife. In 1876 they were livin in a cave in the Moosic Mountains, nea Waymart, Penn. Lucy Ann continue her use of male garments. She was ai rested one day while preaching in tb above village, and lodged in the Wayn county jail. She was kept there severs weeks. Her companion finally prepare a petition to the court Jor the release c her "husband" from jail on account c " his' foiling health. This documer was a remarkable one, and is still in th records of the| Wayne: County Court. ] was couched in language which was model of clear and correct English, an was powerful in its argument. It w/i written with a pen made from a spli stick, the ink being the juice of pok( berries. Lucy Ann Lobdell was release from jail. The two went to Damascu township, and in 1877purchased a farn; which they occupied and worked t( cether until a few days since, whe Lucy Ann Slater, or Joseph Israel Lob dell, as she insisted on being knowr died alter a brief illness. She wjis nearl fiftv years of age. The child that was born to Lucy An Lobdell and George Slater was a gir She found a good home in the famil of the former, into which she ws adopted, and grew up to be a handsom and intelligent girl. A young mar named Kent, sought her hand in mai riage, but his character was not goot and she rejected him. Shortly aftei ward, in August, 1871, Miss Slater wer from her home to a neighbor's on a errand. When she started home it we dark, and a thunder-storm was comin up. As she was hurrying along tli road she was seized by three men, druj ged, grossly maltreated, and taken t the Delaware river, and thrown into.tl: stream. She was washed uj> on n island,where she regained consciousnes She was discovered by a man who live opposite the island, and taken to li house. She left there, supposing si could find .her way home. She wanderc into the woods, and, although partii were out searching for her. she was n< found until three days afterward. SI was insane, and nearly dead froi hunger. She was returned home, bi it was a long time before she regaint her reason. Kent and two others wei arrested on suspicion of being the partii guilty of the outrage, but nothing cou be proved against them. Most peopl however, believed that they were tl criminals, and they finally disappear* from the place, / The Bailroad In the Air, ?1 Charles Barnard giveB in Si. Nicholas - this interesting ana graphic portrayal a of a New York elevated railroad: n A locomotive is a curious animal. He in, likes a good level road with no bad hills lei v to climb. If you try to make him climb is i- a steep hill he may stop short and re* co s fuse to stir a wheel. Tne land to the ste r, west of Central Park, in New York, is po y exceedingly hilly, and the railroad must a " be made to please these iron horses. So w< a it happens that where the ground is low bu y the iron supports ot the railroad are joi n very high. Some of the posts that sup[ port the railroad are fifty-seven feet en ,8 hitch, and as they are all. hollow until ca e filled with cement, some curious work itj s could be seen here while the building se< r was going on?men on high platforms wl y pouring the stufl' into the hollow posts, op r This matter of running a steam encine jui 3 through a city, in such a way as not to wl d interfere with the traffic, was a difficult st< e and puzzling business. In London, as th n I have said,"the city railroads are placed pe s in tunnels under the streets and houses. th< r In Paris, there is a railroad in an open se1 " cutting " or deep ravine, with bridges dii ie over it at all the streets that cross it. su< In many English cities the railroads qu a run over brick arches at the level of the ar< - house-tops. All of these methods an- [ 3 swer a good purpose, but they are very tei - costly. In New York an entirely dif- thi e ferent plan hns been tried by these ele- gn b rated railroads laid on iron bridges eai 1 through the streets. tai r The roads work admirably. There thi > is a great traffic in the streets where Jul - they are built. There are . horse- thi 1 cars and crowds of trucks and wagons co; - eoing up and down all the time. The gr< 9 horse-railroads are decidedly in the way f0i b of all other vehicles, and the cars often pei - cause blockades thaL delay the business an< b people very much. Before the elevated fal i railroad was built, the horse-railroad Th r was a serious cjuse of trouble in streets fol - already crowded with carts and wagons, pit t But now if we stand on the sidewalk, an . and can look in both directions under 0p< - the new iron bridges, we see the various ba: . vehicles and horse-cars pass along pre- tre , cisely as it there were no railroad there. bii r As we are examining these things, two ; trains pass, one on each side of the street gn - ?in fact, one of them runs directly over ^ , our heads. We might tell our friends jn, . when we reach home that we were run st^ r over by a railroad train and that it :n, - didn't hurt a bit. t We walk on down town and come to tk( t a narrower street, Jind here the railroad gt0 j tracks come close together, and though wa r tnesireec is snaaea Dy me iron unuge nei j overhead, it is clear and unobstructed. j8 , 2 Here is a station with st?ps going up to fev i the house overhead, and we hear a train en( i stop overhead and hear the conductor tj1( I call out the name of the street and open we 1 and close the gates lor the passengers. ^ei , There is no loud ringing of bells or - blowing of whistles, not even a puff ^ i from the smoke-stack, or a rush of steam tjn i from tile vacuum-brake. The bridge wj. > resounds somewhat, as you can easily ( 3 imagine, when such a j?reat mass of iron 1 i is shaken by the rapid motion of the mc r heavy locomotives and trains; but the mt noise is not of much consequence. It is P* t far less than the roar and rattle of the in* > teams in the street below. Certainly r the horses do not seem to mind it. i There is one, gravely eating his oats with r evident satisiaction and peace of mind, ?J. 1 though a rail-train rushes over his head ?t] 2 every two minutes.?Charles Barnard, iru r in St. Nicholas. JS? ' i tb< i Where an Artist Died. ^ ? Cclia Thaxton writes from Maine, f where the painter Hunt committed sui- th * cideashort time since: At the top of de s the ledge behind the cottage at Apple- jn r dore isatiny basin hollowed out of the gr, 3 rock to catch the rains, a shallow reser- hii 5 voir filled with water, which is con- th '? ducted by pipes to the wharf for the use jj, amnli nt-nam vap.htPinalore. which I n 3 piies continually .between the islands to 9 during the season. It is a lovely place, 0f 9 this little sheet of tranquil water lying w] " ?ut on the top of the rocks, open to the 0f e sky and reflecting its every tint and th r change as perfectly as the great ocean tai e beyond it. Hunt and his sister had sat th " together near it in the pleasant days, 0f V while she sketchedjit and the gable of the m: 5 house close by, and he often said how '?h " pretty it was. Round it the fragrant ^ ' bayberry bushes cluster thickly, and till to | late the wild roses blossom in sweetness. pe * At its brim all summer long the little hf [ birds come to drink and to wash, with * twinkling wings ruffling the bright sur-. ^ e face; often I watched them from my nj 9 winnow at sunrise?sparrows, swallows, fti] ? sandpipes, that made the place musical th with melodious cries. Here on that 8h 8 Monday morning, when all our little de world was seeking him, I found all that W( '? was left of our beautiful friend floating f0 e upon his face, while the wind fluttered ha " a fold of his long coat which lay on the jjj y water, dark in the still and sunny glitter th a of the surface elsewhere unbroken. In n a moment help was on the spot, and un- 8U availing efforts to resuscitate him were }lfl f mode, but life had been cone some hours, dp c He had not seemed more depressed ajj 3 than usual; he sat with us by the lire pr; n a while after breakfast? it had been k 11 raining?then he went ?ut and we never n saw him again. It was an hour or two ^ before we were really roused to alar*n ]Q a about him, for each one thought him in }n 3 this or that place where he was accus- tv e tomed to be, and no anxiety entered our jp ? hearts, for of such a catastrophe we could d not dream. ip. A Venomous Fish. e From a letter written by a correspond- , g ent in the Seyehelle archipelago, it r would seem that though " every prospect d pleases," man is not the only rile crea- pe - ture which the islands and their waters e boast. There is a small, but highly a i e poisonous fish, we are told, called the " laf,"the "spines upon whose back are jg d hollow and filled, like the fangs of a corf bra, with a dangerous poison, which >f sometimes produces death and always m f infonoo noin " Ynn mav draw it unob e served into the boai when you are fish- an [t ing, and find out its peculiarities before a its pifsence has been ascertained, oh d Sharks, too, are more than abundant, ;s and, it seems, Jiang about the frail boats ^ it of the place with such terrible earnesti ness as to appall sailors and cause them d to refrain from tempting the deep; the is creatures eat the oars as they are thrust i, into the water, munch the sides of the eli >- canoes, and altogether misconduct them- in n selves so gravely that harpoons have to i- be used in order to repel them. Hap- 0f i, pily, in respect to the "laf," nature has m, y provided an antidote, for no sooner has he stung than his body offers a cure n to any one who has the presence of mind A 1. to seize it, cut it open and apply it to the y wound. Against the teeth of the shark . is no such protection is offered, yet those P' e who wish to avoid his mouth can do so cJl l, by keeping ashore. They miss the en - joyment of the loveliest waters in the cl< l wnrld. hut thev also escape a fate com- ar r- pared witli winch that of Jonah was it child's play.?I/mdon Telegraph, pc n o? is ? A Deaf and Drnnb Girl Talks In Her si' S Sleep. T o A singular story is told by John ie Lather, of Dorsey county, Ark. in the ,n columns of the Little Rock Quzei'e. He bl s> lias a daughter who suddenly loat her lo ,<i voice and liearing when she was a little p< is girl some fifteen years ago. One night ie last week he was passing his daughter's room, when he heard a strange voice. a ?B Arousing his wife they crept noiselessly g, at in, and with thrills of idy saw that their C( 1C dumb daughter was talking in her sleep. st m The mother clasped the gin in her arms, & jt but when awake she again lost her voice. 0) ?d S'nce then she has been heard to talk ^ re aloud in her sleep, speaking generally of cj es the occurrences in the household of the ^ Id day before. A deaf and dumb youth of C( e> the neighborhood, who has been looked fl. ie upon as the girl's lover, was prostrated 0 ;(j with grief upon hearing that his girl y could talk. ]j MM, WABlliSfl AJSli UUDSEttU-UJ 1 Approved Modes of Budding. Budding differs lrom ordinary graft- , g, as most fanners understand, not the , ist in its nature or effects. Each bud 1 a distinct individual capable of be- 3 ming a tree under favorable circum- j inces. In grafting, a branch com- < sed of several buds is employed with i considerable quantity of bark and < Dod, while in Budding but a single i d with a small quantity of the ad- j ining bark and wood is used. i Pomologists are now giving the preface to budding in the majority of ses?first, because of the great rapid- ] r with which it may be accomplished; , lond, the more convenient season at , iw>h it. in done: third, the fact that the . eration can be performed without in- \ ring the stock in case of a failure, , lieu is always more or less liable in j >cks headed down for grafting; fourth, ( 3 opportunity which it affords, when } rformed in good season, ef repeating | 3 trial on the same stock. To these , reral advantages may be added, bud- ( lg is preferred for all stone-fruits, en as peaches and apricots, which reir? extra skill in grafting but which 3 budded with ease. : rhe season for budding iruit trees ex- ! ids from the 1st of July until about a 1st of October. Such as cease to jw early in the season must 'ie budded f ly, as soon as mature buds can be ob- j ned, because it can only be done while : 3 stocks are in a free, growing state, J lof sap. Such as grow until late in j 3 autumn must be budded later. The j aamon sort of plums terminate their ' jwth early in the season and are there- . - t u.j 1_ ?I e UUUUBU vany, YYiiCLUC! tvibii jjiuujo, iches or apricots. The Canada plum I the cherry plum grow freely until I and may be budded much later. | e different trees come into season as lows: Plums-, cherries, apricots on : 1ms, pears, apples, quinces, nectarines, : d peaches. In snort, perform the f sration of budding only when the . rk of the stock parts or separates ely from the wood and when the c ds of the year's growth are some- e lat plump and the young wood is a >wing firm. j: Che implements required are a prun- e C knife to remove any branches on the _ ck that may be in the way of insert- t : the bud, and a budding-knife, very n, smooth and keen-edgea, to take off > buds and make the incisions in the c ck. In selecting buds a convenient e ,y is to choose thrifty shoots that have a iriy done growing and prepare what , jailed a stick of buds by cutting off a j / of the imperfect buds at the lower _ 1 and such as may yet be too soft at [ i upper end, leaving only smooth, g 11-developed single buds, double buds c ng fruit buds. The form of a wood ( d is always long rather than round. t the case of peachcs there are some- ^ les triple buds, the center one of j kichis a wood bud. j Shield or T-budding is one approved >de. A variety of this method.' recom- f snded by Downing and practiced by iny horticulturists, is as follows: Havr ready a stick of buds and soft woolen t rn or strands of bass matting, moist- c ed in water to make them pliable for ^ ng the buds, choose a smooth portion i the stock. When the latter is small, j ler things being equal, let the buds be ( ierted near the ground. also on the t rth side of the stock, as less exposed to 1 esun. A rule observed by many is: ? [n free stocks place the bud within i ree or four inches of the ground; all < rarf stocks bud close to the surface of i e ground." Rapid, late-growing ten- ( r varieties, liable to be winter-killed some latitudes if budded near the t ound, should be budded sufficiently j i>h to avoid injury, but as a general < ing low budding makes the best trees, j iving decided on the place, make an i right incision in the bark from an inch an inch and a half long, and at the top this make a cross-cut so that the hole shall form a T. From the stick ] buds, with the budding-knife, cut a in, smooth slice of wood and bark conining a bud. With the rounded end of e knife next raise the bark on each side the incision just wide enough to adit the prepared bud. Taking hold of e footstock of the leaf insert the bud ider the bark, pushing it gently down the bottom of the incision. If the up ? ?4l\n Un/? nmionfa uKATTO fnfl I yKJL LIUU \Jl lUt UUuinwjvuvwMww.v >rizontal pait of the T cut it smoothly f that it may completely fit. A' bande is next tied over ihe wound, beginng at the bottom and tying firmly iove, leaving the end and footstock of e leaf only exposed to the air. Common ield budding differs from the methods scribed in the removal of the slice of 3od contained in the bud. Advocates r the latter contend that when the bud ts only the shield of bark it is more ible to get destroyed by heat or dryness an when the wood is left on. In about a fortnight after budding its ccess or failure will be apparent. If it is succeeded and the stock is a good al swollen, loosen or remove the band;e. If it has failed and the bark still trts leadily make another trial. Mr. night's jilan of tying buds with two mdages is often practiced, one below id one above the t>ud. In this case the wer bandage is removed as soon as the id has taken, the upper one remaining to or three weeks longer.?New York i Wd. JLlOimeiiuiu UIUMI Castor oil will soften leather. To whiten ivory, boil in lime water. Hay water is good for washing marial of ecru tint. To rid closets of ants, use green pcpirmint frequently. * > # To clean zinc, rub on fresh lard with iloth and wipe dry. Paint should be varnished, because it , then more easily cleaned. Corsets with the whalebones removed ake good cleansing cloths. A bit of glue dissolved in skim milk id water will restore old crape. i Fresh fish should be fried in the grease i itained by frying sweet salt-pork. Tepid water is produced by combining j ro-thirds cold and one-third boiling. Onions and potatoes should be put in , rarm water an hour before cooking. Any tree or plant whipped by green Icr branches will not be attacked by 3ects. i A pint of mustard seed put in a barrel cider will preserve.it sweet for several ^vnfllD Rat holes may be stopped effectually j1 r filling with broken glass and plaster paris. Rats, mice and insects will avoid a ace that has been pnrinkled with iloride of lime A mixture of oil ana ink is goou to i ean kid boots with; the first softens id the latter blackens them. To clean woolen cloth, take equal irts of spirits of hartshorn and ether; c-gall mixed with it makes it better. Old boot-tops cut into pieces the right ze and lined make good iron-holders, he leather keeps all heat away from the md. After a stove has once been thoroughly acked it can be kept looking well for a ng time by rubbing it with a newspa;r every morning. Paris has two new papers, each with "mission." One is called Woman, id is under the editorial charge of a iramittee of ladies who desire to inruct the humbler members of the sex } to moral and physical training. The ther is called La Lurui de Afeli, and is lore characteristically French in its aims for recognition. It purports to e an organ for defending the interests of slabataires, fiancees ana married folks, nd contains a column of advertisements f rich widows who desire husbands, rho need not be rich, but must have a ttle. TlSXLl TUI'itS. A gigantic engineering scheme is that 5f M. ae Sainte Anne to bridge the English channel. As proposed bj him the oridge would be about twenty-two miles long. It would rest on at least 175 immense stone piers, built to a height jf nearly one hundred and fifty feet ibove the Bea level.the piers in the.deepjst portion of the channel extending nearly two hundred feet below the surface of the water. The cost is estimated it 300,000,000 francs* The Mammoth cave in Kentucky has been purchased by a company of Eastern capitalists for $200,000. The interior will be illuminated with electric light, ind telegraph wires will afford communication between al>parts of the cave uid the outer world. TUe walks will be improved, new boats will be launched jn the subterranean river, and a restaurant will bo open?d in one of tiie cham jero acvcu uinco jiiuui mc cubiouuo*| jljicj railroad from Glasgow junction to the ?ve will be completed. Dr. J. W. Ross, of the United States lavy, is a man who, for his brave discharge of a dangerous duty, which he wugtit unsummoned, may well bo called l hero. Last year, although he had lever had yellow fever, he volunteered 'or medical service at Holly Springs Hiss., and after working zealously lor wo months, very nearly died of the lisease himself. This year he offered lis services to the National Board of lealth and was sent down to Memphis, vhere he has been working in the most horough and effectual way. A man in Pennsylvania noted for his generosity lately had $100,000 left him is-a legacy. Beggars of. all manner of :auses, good, bad and indifferent, flocked ipon him so fast that he adopted the >lan of stating to each the amount of lis legacy, and the fact that he had hosts if applications, and the inquiry in view ?f all this, how much he ought to be xpected to give the applicant. The .mounts tben applied for lie noted down, md promised an answer in six months rom the time he got his legacy. At the nd of that period he added up the .mounts applied for and found the sum otel thereof was $700,000. It is generally believed i that a large mtlay of capital and considerable engin ering skill wpuld be required to create .n island sea on the African continent. Lfter several explorations, however, Mr )onald Mackenzie boldly asserts that by liercing a sand-bar three hundred yards ong and thirty feet deep, an artificial ea may be created in the Sahara desert, overing sixty thousand square miles. Communication once established with he ocean, he thinks the in-rush of water rould create a navigable channel. The nterior sea would occupy the great >asin of the El Joof, a depression of the vestern 'part of the desert, two hundred eet in depth below the level of the ocean. In the South the number of small coton factories is increasing rapidly, espeiially in Georgia and boutn Carolina. They are mainly run by water power in leighborhoods where- thej-e is a small >opulation which would Lave no other jmployment during certain seasons of he year. It has been found tliat colored joys and girls are quite dexterous at the ipindle, and that where the little mills ire located ttilre is much more peace and >rder than in hamlets where there is no ndustrial attractions for the idle. The :otton is near at hand, the running power s cheap, the workmen are attracted by he novelty and by the opporl unity to ahor under shelterine roots, the warps lommand a ready market and tke profits, relieved of much of the expense of heavy freight, are far from inconsiderable. It was in the reign of Alexis Mikhailovitch, father of Peter theGreat, about the middle of the seventeenth century, that Liberia received its first caravan of criminals, and there has been a regular an nual succession of them since. The yeai-ly contingent increased largely under the late Emperor Nicholas, and from about 8.000 in the middle of his reign the total number of transported persons has ri?en to 18,000 or 19,000 under Alexander II., or comprising other countries than Siberia, 20.000. While a portion of these convicts in Siberia are condemned to hard labor another and much larger portion simply hold the position ot forced colonists forbidden to leave a certain place. The slight barrier of the Ural is easily passed by the fugitive convicts, and distance is not ot much account to a Russian. The police arrest annually a large number of the deserters. More than ten per cent, of the persons sent every summer from Moscow to Siberia are fugitives being sent back. Many, however, escape altogether. One of the highest compliments which could be paid to the newspaper press was that ot the Rev. Dr. Samson, of Harlem, uttered a few days since in the Baptist Ministers' Conference. He gave it as his matured and deliberate opinion that "there is not a secular paper in this city, or country that is not ready at any time to correct a report, if the editor can be satisfied that such report is unfair or false." There may be journals which are an exception to the rule, says the New York Tribune, but it there be they are not likely to do anybody much harm. A character for persistent misrepresentation renders them comparatively innoxious. What a newspaper needs, if its conductors wish to be even financially successful, is a reputation for speaking the truth. Mistakes will be made, but they cause at least as much annoyance to the average editor as to those about whom they are made. The Conference bowed its appreciation of Dr. Samson's remarks by refusing to exclude reporters from its meetings. Cologne Cathedral is at length near completion, and August next year will see it finished. Begun in the very midst of the "ages of faith," when monurclis beggared themselves to raise magnificent structures, of which only picwinanAw rflmoi'r. fnr thp world ! bUUCVjUC luiiiouvn 4vu*?i?* ?... to look at, this extraordinary temple lagged behind all its contemporaries in the work of construction, saw them reach their mature glory, decline, and 9ink to ruin, itself being all the time an unfinished fabric. The first stone of the Cologne Cathedral wns laid in 1248, when the grand edifices now left, perfect or ruined, in Europe were either just finished, or, like Notre Diime. in Paris, were in rapid progress; but while the most elaborate of them took only three centuries to bring to perfection, Cologne has absorbed more than double the time. It took nearly three centuries to complete the choir, and since that date it has required liberal aid from nearly all the sovereigns of Europe to keep tne construction going. What now remains to he done is the last stage and crowniDg decoration of the stately towers. The Senate Snuff Box. There is a curious old custom kept up in the United States Senate chamber. On each side of the Vice-President's seat are fastened two old snuff boxes. Thev are the result of a custom inaugurated almost at the foundation of the government, when snuff-taking was a universal habit. Thurroan is the only Senator who makes a habit of using snuff, but sometimes a Senator will stop and take an occasional pinch, while the many visitors to the chamber take a little out of curiosity. At first the box was kept on the Vice-President's desk, but in those days so many of the Senators used the article, and so frequently forgot to bring their boxes with them, that it was resolved to place two public receptacles for it, and in the annual expenses of the Senate is always found the item of snuff. xuv viuci muoi " The words are ^ood" I Said, J' 1 cunno doubt;" I took my scissors then to cut them out; But Mary seized my kand: " Take carc," she cried, " There is a picture on the other side." I fell to musing. We are too intent On gaining that to which our minds are bent; We choose, then fling the fragments tor ant' wide, But spoil the picture on the other side!? A prize is offered; others seek it too; But on we press with only self in view. t1r**. ?m'? AH? arts? nanon wa]] entia^o^ Vv C glXlLl VUt |IV1UV) UI?U |ii?UOW ITVW DUMOUMii Bat ah! the picture on the other side. On this, a sound of revelry we bear; On that, a vail of mourning strikes the car; On this, aearriage stands with groom and bride, A hearae is waiting on the other side. We call it trash?we tread it roughly down, The thing? which others might have deemed a crown: An infant's eyes, anointed, see the gold. Where we, world-blinded, only brass behold. We pluck a weed and fling it to the breeze; A flower of fairest view another sees. We strike a chord with carclcss smile and jest, And break a heart-string in another's breast. Tread soft and softer still as on yon go, With eyes washed clear in lore's anointing glow; Life's page well finished, torn it, satisflod. And lo! heaven's picture on the other side. ITEMS OP INTEREST. The London police is 10,447 forapopu; lntionof 4,534,040. : : t ', ., . The best fast boat in a storm is one made fast at a landing. A Michigan man offers to cat corn against the world for $100 a side. A Berlin, child has been poisoned by, the arsenic in its doll's green frock. The Oneida community made $76,001 out of its various industries Inst year., Blue fishing?when you don't catch anything.?Balivfnort Every Saturday. There are said to be only two words in which the vowels follow each other P What are they? Coercion, suspicion, scion and internecion are said to fle the ?ly four words ending in V cion. To be perfectly good a man must have a good deal of human nature taken out of him.?Picayune. A statistician says that the wheat . crop of the world this year will be about 1,5-10,000,000 bushels. Thoroughly wetting the hair once or twice a week with a weak solution of salt water will prevent it falling out. ' The Ralph Rackstrawof.a St. Louis "Pinafore^' company has fascinj^ed a sentimental heiress, and the two have eloDed- * ' Sprigs of wintergreen or ground ivy will drive away red ants; branches of wormwood will serve the same purpose for black ants. The workman who fell into a kettle of boiling lard found it several degrees warmer than was comfortaole.? benville Herald. A Russian peasant woman recently gave birth to female twins, with separ ate heads and arms, but a common tnink and only three legs. They are healthy, and at baptism were named Annie and Antonine. * Professor Marsh favors an estimate placing the antiquity of man in Europe at 250,000 years, according to data far' nished by a study of the phenomena of the glacial epoch. There is strong evi-' dence of a yet earlier human existence in America TJiere is always some drawback to our earthly pleasures- Th" man who wai continually "sticking his. nose into other people's business " found his great drawback when he thru8t his prying Eroboscis into the avocation of a limurgcr cheese manufacturer.?Yonktrt Statesman. At the direction of the German government, Professor Reinbaum has mad# a Chemical analysis of American corned 1 VIA iJJonAirortr nf uei'i, me rcouib uciuj^ wv ui?vvtv( ? vf particles of lead therein, due to carelessness in soldering the cans. German authorities have cautioned their people against the use of the meat. During a recent Chinese funeral at the Black Hills a band of music was in attendance and varied the ceremonies by discoursing some of the late and most popular airs, such as 44 Yankee Doodle," " Shoo Fly," which, although not being exactly the Americah Btyle of-funeral music, seemed to please, the Celestials mightily. The Persian Shah is said to be wiiting a play?and nobody will dare to condemn it. For his majesty once painted a picture in which a camel in the background was higher than a tree in the foreground, ana an unlucky critic, who hinted that the work lackea feeling, in a few hours lacked a head. A Mosauette (Mich.) editor returned an annual railroad pass which he held, explaining that he could not conscientiously give a favorable notice of a Sunn-rniii-oion nn that rnari . bat the railroad manager returned the pass, saying a Michigan editor with a conscience was an object of such extreme rarity he was clearly entitled to a pass. If there is one thing more than another that will make a young man in a big buttonhole bouquet, light gloves, dainty clothes and hair parted in the middle come down to hard pan and as near common sense as he can get without previous preparation or adaptability, it is to have a woman tell him he ought to have been born a girl.?Sicubenville Herald. The London Times has had twentyone actions for libel brought against it since 1872. In fourteen cases the plaintiffs abandoned the acti?n before trial, and in four recovered no damages. In these eighteen actions the expenses of the Times amounted to ?3,200, and only ?130 were recovered. As the law stands newspaper proprietors liavc no security for costs. ' How did you like the hymns,"asked Charles of his city cousin as thpy left the church on Sunday. "One of them was just splendid," r?plied she. with enthusiasm. "Ah! which one?" "The one in the next pew with black, curly hair, and such killing black eyes. Oil, I think he. was the most fascinating ' him' of all." Charley became too much confused to pursue the conversation any further. Unsuccessful People. The percentage of pedple who are unsuccessful, in the wordly sense of the word, i* a very large one. Often God snatches away, by His providence, through no apparent fault or failure of theirs, the fruU of men's labors when if {q inot Hmnnincr rinPTlPtl. into tllOir iiands. Other men come into life hopelessly destitute of the "knack" for setting ahead at anything. The farmer who tliinks he is making a good bargain when every one else sees that it is a bail oni;; the schoolteacher who does not know !.?? ? ?l,o I How to win tne conuuemv ui mapnv ..... ! enthusiasm of her pupils; the minister .whose "ways" repel people when he takes the most pains to win their good will?such persons are found everywhere. They do the best they know how, butthey don't succeed. And since it is an experience that is divinely assigned to so many, we must conclude that the ministry of poverty and defeat is often better for us than any wordly I success could be. " Blessed are they who j make money or achieve prominence," did not find a place in the Beatitudes? j does not, in fact, sound munli liko them. I ?Good Company.