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ABBEVLLE PRESS AND BANNER! . tmm t . BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WAKDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, APEIL 6, 1881. . ? NO. 44. VOLUME XXV. ;|| The Indian Cnntp. Out from tin* Northern forest, dim ami vast; Out from tin- mystery Of yet more shadowy times, a pathless past, Unt racked l>y history; Strangely ho comes into our commonplace. Prosaic present: And like a faded star In side the bay's Silvery iTi sciiit, l'|>on the curved sliori- of Hin lli? tout ho pitelie*? A modern in white man's wide-awake Aud Christian brooehes. lteckless of titlo-dofds and forms < >f law. Ho freely ohonses Whatever slope i?r wood-sidiisuits Jiis squaw And lithe papooses. N Why uot? The owners of the la nil wrro rod. Holding dominion Vherever ranged the loot of 1 jpaat or spread The eagle's pinion;. And privileged. until tlioy <-?-h-nmed here Their fair-taee.'. brother. To hunt at will. sonietii-jos the bear and deer. Sometimes < .aeh uth'-r. How often to this la'xo, xlown yonder dark And siu'.ious vivor, Tho painted warriors w aled. in fleets ol balk. "With bow v ml nuivor! This lank- haired eb ieftain is their child, and heir To a utv ?t nation. And well might tl-you tancy, anywliero His ha". lla* he t- 30 cop lt. j0 i?mt the hear and door, i *i T? tr.ip 'lio otter? Alas: tn irt\H no such creature stirring hero. ' 'ti laud or water. To bavo.rt little tr.iflic with the town. . . Once mow lie chooses The a? id{>nt cami>itig-|>lucc. and brings his brown S'nutw and pai'onsex. I No t .er.t was lion- in yester-evening's hush; lsut the day. dawning. ir; ?D sfignres with a faint, a roseate flush. j His dingy awning. *' J*.ic canii" smoke curling its the misty light. And eativas slanting To the green earth, all tins is something quite Fresh and enchanting; Viewed not too elosely. lest the glancing wings, ! The iridescent Soft colors ot romance. vivo jilace to things Not <iuito so j>1< asant. The gossamers glistening on the dewy turt; The lisji and tinkle Of flashing foani-fn lis. where the placid surl I im-ass ou iui* smngie; The shimmeriti;; birches by the rippling cove; A fresh l.rce/c bringing The fragrance of the |tincs, and in the grove The thrushes sinsrim:. Make the day sweet. Hut other sight and sound And odors fill it. You find, as you approach their camping ground And reekiug skillet. The ill-fed curs rush out with wolfish bark; And. staring at you, A slim young girl leap* up. Muooth-linibcd and dark | As ;i bronze sta ue. A bare papoose about the camp-fire poles Toddles at random: And on the ground there, by the blazing coals. Sits the old graudam. Wrinkled and lean, her skirt a matted rag, In plaited collar Of beads and liedt;chog quills, the smoke-dried hag Squats in her squalor. Dressing a marmot which the boys have shot: Which done, she seizes With tawnv claws, ami drous into the liot Th?' raw, roil pieces. The chief meanwhile has in some mischief found A howling urchin. Who knows too well, alas! that he is bound To have a birching. The stoic of the woods. stern and UDmoved, , - -. ? - ----- ;b.t lash oi> . . . ? " Ticklinu the lively ankles lii approved Katlierlv fashion. The boy slinks off, a wiser lioy, indeed? Wiser and sorrier. And is this he, the chief of whom we read, The.Iudian warrior? Where hank's his tomahawk? the scali* of tall liravoK struck in battle? "Why, bless you, sir. his band is not at all That kind of cattle! in ceasing to be savages, tlicy choso To put away things That suit the savage; even those hickory bows Are merely playthings. l"or common use he rather likes, 1 think, The white man's rifle. Hatchet ami blanket: and of white man's drink, X fear, a trifle. With neighbors' scalp-locks, and such bagatelles. He never meddles. JJows, basket'-, and I hardly know what else. He makes and l>eddles. Quite civilized, you seo. Is lieawaro 01 his lieatitude? . Docs he, for all th?- white man's love and care. Keel l'roper gratitude? Feathers ami war-paint he no more enjoys;; Hut lie is prouder Of long-tailed coat, ami boots, au?l corduroys, / And white man's powder. And he can trade his mink aud musquash skins Baskets of wicker. For white man's trinkets; bows and moccasins For white mau's liquor. His Manitou is passing, with each strange, Wild sup> rstitiou; He has the Indian agent for a change. And Indian mission. He owns his cabin and potato patch. And tanas a little. Industrious? Quite, when there are fish to catch, I Or shafts to whittle, I Though all about him. like a rising deep, Flows the white nation. He has?ami while it pleases in may keep? His Iteservation. Placed with his tribe in bucIi a paradise, "Tis past believing That they should slill be given to lKstty vice, ?uu UIII'IUIK, Incentives to renounce their Indian tricks Are surely ample. With white man's |in-ty an?l politics I 1 For their example. But arc tjiev happier now than when, some night. The chosvn quotas Of tufted warriors sallied forth to flight The fierce Dakota*? j i?till untTer that sedate, impassive port, , That dull demeanor, A spirit vails, a demon sleeps?ju short, ; The same red siurn r! I ! J .1 WitLin those inky pools, his eyes, I seo i* Revenue and pillage, 4 The midnight massacre that yet may be. ! ! The blazing village. ! i ' When will he mend his wicked ways, Indeed. 1 ( Kill more humanely ? Depart, and leave to us the lauds wc need? To put it plainly. j Yet in our dealings with his race, in crimes Of war and ravage. Who is the Christian, one might ask sometimes, ; : Aud who the savage? His traits are ours, seeu in r. dusky glass, j And but remind us Of heathenism we hardly yet, alas! Have leti behind us. 1 ' Is right tor white race wrong for black aud red? A man or woman. What hue soever, after all that's said, Viewed from the smoke anil misery of liiH dim Civilization. How seems. I'd lik- to ask?how seems to him ! The proud Caucasian? 1 sha]?e the question as he saunters niKh, But shame to ask it. We turn to i>ri<v his wares instead, and buy. Perhaps, a basket. But this is strange! A man without pretense Of wit or reading. Where did he n< t that calm intelligence, That plain j?ood-breediUK? With him Iouk patience, fortitude unspent. Untaught sagacity: Culture with us. the curse <>t discontent, Pride, and rapacity. I . SomethmK we train of him and bear away Beside our purchase. We look awhile upi.n the quivering bay And shimmering birches? The young squaw bearing up from the canoes Some heavy lading: Along the beaeh a picturesque pai?>o?o Splashing and wading; ... ! i ine wiiucrcu motif, tiie eaini> smoke s flow awul, 1 | The tuifls that blind her: I The Kirl, her silhouette on the situ-lit tent j Shadowed behind her; I The stalwart brave. wateliitiK hi? burdened wile. I Ereet ;itid stolid: 9 We look, and iliitik with l'ity ot a lite I So l our and S'lUalid! I Then at the cheering signal ol a bell 5 We slowly waluler a Hark to the world, hack to the great hotel j Looming ui" yonder, v T. Trwrhriilye, in JJiii-per'n Muyi'.hi*. I MABEL'S DREAM. ! | " Well, petite, is it to be wine or | coflee ? " I Standing in his own tloorwav and I looking out over the thousand acres of I waving grain which surrounded the 1 home where he had been born and i reared. James Burton had rather disB dained the city, where men jostle each If other, the strong mounting on the' H downfall of the weak, until a summer visit brought Mabel Aberdeen, a butter-1 B fly of fashion,to win his heart and con- i | quer his prejudice, so that winter found H him at her side in the city home, hold-1 I ing the hand that bore his ring, and g saying with a smile : B "I have been brought up to believe V that ' wine is a mocker, and strong drink H raging,' but when one is in Rome, you S know?and I don't want to bring dis credit 011 my patroness by unconvenra tional singularity, which I believe is B the greatest crime in your social code, ra So I leave you to decide?wine or B coflee. m She looked at his strength. M Of all men there could be no danger R qi him. And women would think it a country M prejudice should he decline wine. ^ " C6me to me the first tiling in the I morning, and then do as I bid you," wi*-ier decision. And five minuter later the crisp snow crunched under his firm tread, and she had gone to her own room to tell Cousin Grace what a splendid fellow he was, and afterward to dream of to-morrow's festivities. The frosty air seemed to fairly dance with the jingle of belis. The reception-room was like a hall in a fairy palace. "Wine or coffee?" And with her jeweled hand she held a fragile wine-glass brimming with the red blood of the grape, and looked into his eyes will) a smile that a siren might have envied. 1 "To tlio health ol' our fair hostess! May her beauty never wane!" And for good or ill the wine had passed liis lips. " Gentlemen, am I my own master or not ?" " But, Burton, you are not lit to go to her now. Come, there's a good fellow ! ?we'll get you to lied, and in the morning you'll be all right again. You see you ain't seasoned like us old stagers, but the women don't take that into account, and she'll think you're on the high road to ruin, and all that." I promised her 1 would go to her the first thing in the morning, and I never fail in the performance of a promise when it is avoidable."' "That's all right as a rule, but you j can toll her that you know she would be too tired to see you and all that." "No, I won't lie to her in the merest i trille. But, Blake, you're funking n mountain out oi' a mole-hill. I tell you I am all right. Here, let me out of the carriage. I'll show you that I can walk as straight as any of you. Halloa,driver, pull up!" ' "We'll take that for granted. Burton. But if you are determined to go you must at least take a plain soila and give your head a souse in cold water." "Nothing of the sort. You've intimated that 1 am drunk, and I'll prove j to you that I nm not. I shall go into) Miss Aberdeen's presence, and she will not notice any change in me whatever!" They had to yield. When before all those present, he . raised her hand to his lips and said: "Mabel, I s'lute you !" It was the iirst she had occasion to blush for him, and lor the first time she was stricken with fear for herself. Ten years with their changes have come and gone. We pass from the fashionable. thoroughfare down a disreputable street, through a filthy alley, up four llightsof ricketty stairs to an attic. Through the small, dingy panes of glass, where they are not broken and stuffed with rags to keep out the cold you can see only chimney-tops and roofs covered with snow. In a small, badly-cracked stove, supported by two iron legs and a pile of bricks, there are a few coals over which ' a woman is trying to cook something in a saucepan. ; J They do not give out warmth enough to dispel the chilly air of the room, and : the woman shivers while she huddles as ! near as possible to the scant heat. _ Perhaps- it, was. because?ske wretehedly clad, and so thin and wan. Want and sorrow were stamped on every lineament of the wasted frame and face. Her very liaij seemed to hang gaunt on her cheek. i?very once in a wmie sue iooKeci toward a corner of the room where stood , a tumble-down bedstead. Her attention ! was attracted by the coughing of a boy eight or nine years of age, yet so wasted ' by privation that he was almost a ! skeleton. Out of his great liquid eyes . looked starvation. " Mamma, I'm so cold," he said, in n , shrill, piping voice. " Hush, dearest! Don't speak so loud. Huddle up close to papa. I'll have vou something warm in a minute."' The child looked to the other side of the bed where a man lay in a drunken cfrrmnv Gathering the ragged bedclothes more ! closely about his shivering little form, : but moving no nearer to the man, the child said in a hoarse whisper: " Mamma, I'm afraid." At that the woman straightened up, , her heart swelling almost to bursting. With the hard fearlessness of despair her eyes rested on the man, then sought ! the child, and last returned to the man, ! and from her quivering lips arose the ; invocation: " Oh, heaven!" His slumber disturbed by some hide- : ous nightmare, the drunkard tossed his arm so that it fell upon the shrinking child, who cried in quick terror: " Mamma! mamma!" "Hush, dearest," continued the wo man again, witli ner ncan inner raoiun; but to late, the drunkard was aroused. " Halloa, there! Have you got anything for ino to eat ?" he demanded. "No, dear, not a mouthful!" said the (voman, in a pleading voice, hastily setling the saucepan under the stove. "What's that you say? Are you lying to me? I can smell something you've been cooking. What is that you ire putting under the stove? You're liiding it from me, are you? Fetch it jut this minute." He sat on the edge of the bed and , glared at her angrily. "James, it's only a little broth for j Harry, liemewber he's sick and has liud nothing to eat since yesterday." The anguish-wrung words fell from . lier lips in piteous, pleading tones that 1 must have moved any one. not insane with liquor. ; " Confound you and your child," cried , the mail, " you do nothing but cuddle , him and he does notlung but whine. "all lnm r\iif /mi M Ll> KVll t Wll mill VUV IV VI work! He's old enough to. But 110, he , must sit in the house feeding 011 dam- , ties, while I starve. Bring that sauce pan here!" "James, the child is starving! Look ' at him!" cried the mother, in despair. 1 With an oath the man got up and ap- 1 proaclied the grate. "Husband, you must not take it. Oh, you cannot. Our child is dying? dying of hunger?and that is all I have to give him." "We'll see what 1 can do. Stand aside, I tell you." With an oath he struck her to the floor, and picked up the saucepan and deliberately ate its contents. " We'll see who is master of this Iiousp," said the brute. "That's only a beginning. Now this brat has got to go out and beg. He's played the drone long enough. Here, sir, come out of that bed." And seizing the frightened boy bv the shoulder lie dragged him out. " James, James! what, are you going to do?" screamed the mother, throwing lierseii on ner Knees unci eatcmng her child in lier arms. "Take him out to the street corner and make him heg." i "No, 110; the child will freeze to death. He is already sick and starving. 1 Yon shall not take him out into the cold?yon shall not!" Desperately she clung to the boy, while his father wrenched at his arm, until the child fainted with grief and pain. Then with an oath at his weakness, the father hurled the limp body back upon her. "Have you got any moneyV" he demanded. "No. James. The last penny went to buy the broth of which you deprived our starving child. Oh, rny husband ! how could you V" " I wonder if these things would fetch anything in the pawnshop?" And lie tossed over the ragged bedclothes to find something that would bring the price of a single drink. "The whole lot wouldn't fetch a shilling," ho growled, and then walked out of the room, slamming the ricketty door, angrily. Then the mother rose with her unconscious boy and laid him on the bed. There was a terrible look on her face as she drew from a closet a pan of charcoal and set it 011 a stove. With an icy calm she walked about the room, shilling rags in all the crevices, and when this was done, ignited the charcoal. She bent over the child to take a last long look?a look of devouring love and pity. She kissed his lips, brow and emaciated hands. Then she laid down and gathered him to her heart. "God cannot judge me harshly for this," she said. " It will end his misery and mine." jiut a throb of anguish convulsed her, as she thought that she would never see her child again in this woild, never hear his voice, never feel the clasp of his arms nor the touch of his lips. As if her clasp awakened him, he moved aud cried: " Mamiha, mamma!" Then the poisonous vapors that rose from the charcoal seemed to clear away, ami the voice became more distant, resolving itself into the words: "Mabel ! Mabel! what is the matter with yon?" Mabel Aberdeen shook oft' the nightmare that held her in thrall. She was nn lonjrer n stm-viiif* wretch. emirtinc death for herself and child, but a young lady in the full bloom of health and happiness, surrounded by every comfort and luxury. And it was only Cousin Grace she held iu such a convulsive grasp, while she trembled from head to foot and a cold perspiration oozed from every pore in her body. And this morning .Tames Burton, no wrecked drunkard, but her noble James, so strong and good, would be there ; and she was to decide whether he should drink wine or coJlee. "Gentlemen, we have taken up with the new idea, and will serve you with cotlee instead of wine. We hope that you will appreciate our motive, and be as well pleased." Politeness alone prevented some from elevating their eyebrows with a quiet :i~ T T> mi:lit*, as iur uuuita ajiiiiuiI) Jim glowed with genuine pleasure. Xo one heard him when he whispered to her: " Mabel, I am glad?very glad. I promise myself a brave little wife. But I am at a loss to know what influenced your decision." And with archness dashed with a vein of tenderness, she smiled upon his facc and asked : ' Do you believe 111 dreamsV" lie said no ; but when she told him this particular dream, he replied that he would so far modify his opinion as to place implicit faith in all dreams that recommended coffee in the place of wine. Why the Monkey Was Sold. 1 haven't any monkey now, and I don't care what becomes of me. His loss was nil nivfiil lilrmv mid 1 iiovov cxi mft to rfi cover from it. I am a crashed boy, ami when the grown folks find what their conduct has done to me they will wish they had done differently. It was ?i a Tuesday that I got the monkey, and by Thursday everybody began to treat him coldly. It began with my little sister. Jocko took her doll away and climbed up to the top of the door with it where he sat and pulled it to pieces and tried its clothes on, only they wouldn't fit him, while sister, who is nothing but a little girl, stood and howled as if she was being killed. This made mother begin to dislike the monkey, juid she snjU^Hnl-it' his conduct was sueh he couldn't stay in her house. I call this unkind, for the monkey was invited into the house, and I've been told we must bear with visitors. A little while afterward, while mother was talking to Susan on the front piazza, she heard the sowing machine upstairs, and said: "Well, I never; that cook has the impudence to be sewing on my machine without ever asking leave." So she ran upstairs and found that Jocko was working the machine like mad. He'd taken Sue's nightgown and father's blaek coat and a lot of stockings, and shoved tliem all under tho needle, and was sewing tliem all together. Mother boxed his ears, and then she and .Sue sat down and worked all the morning trying to imsew the things with the scissors. They had to give it up after awhile, i\nd the things are sewed together yet, like a man and wife, which no man can put asunder. All this made my mother more cool toward the monkey than ever, and I heard her call him a little beast. The next day was Sunday, and as Sue was sitting in the hall waiting for lr.otlier to go to church with her, Jocko gets up on her chair and pulls the feathers out of her bonnet. He thought he was doing light, for he had seen the cook pulling the feathers oil' the chickens, but Sue railed him dreadful names, and said that when father came home either she or that monkey would leave the house. Father came home early on Monday, and seemed quite pleased with the monkey. He said it was an interesting study, and he told Susan that he hoped that she would be contented with fewer beaux now that there was a monkey constantly in the house. In a little while father caught Jocko lathering himself with the mucilage brush, and with a lutcnen Kinie already to suave imnscir. He just laughed at the monkey, and told tne to take good care of him and not let him hurt himself. Of course, I was dreadfully pleased to find that father liked Jocko, and I knew it was because lie was a man and had more sense than skirls. But I was only deceiving myself md leaning on a broken reed. That very evening when father went into his study after supper he found Jocko on liis desk. He had torn all his papers to pieces, except a splendid new map, and that he was covering with ink. and making believe he was writing a President's message about the Panama canal. Father was just raging. He took Jocko by the scruff of the neck, locked him in [lie closer, aim sent 111m away uy express j the next morning to a man in the city, with orders to sell him. The expressman afterward told Mr. rravers that the monkey pretty nearly killed everybody on the train, for he got hold of the signal cord and pulled it, and the engineer thought it was the conductor and stopped the train, and another train just behind it came within an inch of running into it and smashing it to pieces. Jocko did tlie same thing three times before they found out what was the matter, and tied him up so that lie couldn't reach the cord. Oh, he was just beautiful! But I shall never see liim again, and Mr. Travers says that it's all right, and that I'm monkey enough for one house. That's because Sue has been saying things against the monkey to liim; but never mind. First my dog went and now mv monkey has gone. It seems as if everything that is beautiful must disappear. Vcrv likely I shall go next, and v hen I am gone let them find the dog n id the monkey and bury ns together, ? {larji'-r's YdHiXj I'eiijiln. (in;will of the Hair. There are three reasons why women's hair is longer than men's. First, she has no hair growth 011 her face, and so has a larger supply of hair-forming material for the scalp; second, the diameter of hair being larger, it is less liable to break; third, being usually less engaged-in mental labor or business worry, she has a more constant and even supply of blood to the scalp. I11 nations where the hair of men is usually worn short, the fashion of long hair in the male is regarded as a protest against church and state, and against general customs, taste and thought; in Austria it 'is made a political ollense to lie so attired. The growth of the hair is the most rapid in the young and middleaged, and of those living an out-door life. At the age of eighty, if a man lives so long, and if his hair and beard have been close trimmed, he has rut oil" six and a half incites of hair annually, or aliout thirty feet in all. The hair is the least destructible part of the body. The hair of the ancient Thebans is, after a lapse of 1,000 years, found to have survived the tombs. The pyramids and the spliynx are crumbling, but some of tho wigs of human hair, exposed to the mold and moisture of their entombed apartments, are less decayed than the monuments themselves. There are three coloring pigments to the hair?yellow, red and black, and all the shades are produced by the mixture of these three colors/gln pure gold-vellow hair there is only the yellow pigment : in red, the red mixed with yellow; in dark, the black mixed with red and yellow; in the hair of the negro there is as much red pigment as in the reddest hair, and had not the black been most developed?perhaps by the action of the sun?the hair of all negioes would be as fiery a red as the reddest hair of an Englishman. Twenty years ago an iron theater was shipped to Australia, from England, in convenient sections, so as to be put up easily 011 arrival there. Put a bowl of quicklime in a damp closet and it will absorb the moisture. TIMELY TOPICS. ; Senator Miller, of California, says his j fur seal company lias paid tho govern- ' ment S3,000,000 out of the ?7,000,000 we paid l'or Alaska, and before his grant i expires will have paid the whole sum j we paid Russia, while the seals, honestly ; protected, are more plentiful than ever. I J Twenty-live years ago the people of Brattleboro, Yt., were surprised one day at finding the figure of an angel, molded in snow standing on one of their streets. It was soon discovered that Larkin G. Mead, a Brattleboro boy, had done the work, and funds were readily forthcoming to assist him to pursue his artistic studies. Mr. Mead ! *^/\?? r? 4- liio t-f ii/liA in m j i."3 nun irii?U?i;ii ill* 1110 oniuii; in iiuuiu 111 ' making for Brattleboro a marble copy of the snow angel which first brought him into notice. j The point has again been reached in ! Iowa whether it is cheaper to burn corn , j than coal. An Iowa farmer who has i given both a fair trial found that $4 I worth of coal lasted him two weeks, | while the same amount of money spent ' j on corn at twenty cents a bushel kept1 i him in fuel for three weeks. If we j | only knew what price was paid for coal ! I we could easily find the figure to which j corn would have to rise to make it the dearer fuel of the two. With com worth ; I only eighteen cents a bushel in the ear, | as it is now in that section, it is easy to i see that a great deal of it will bo burned j this year. ;1 Isehia, the scene of the frightful i earthquake in which probably '200 lives j have been lost, is a beautiful and re- 1 j markablv fertile island at the northern j entrance of the bay of Naples, much re-1 | sorted to by travelers for its famous l warm baths. Near it9 center is a voli cano, which, however, has not been in I eruption for nearly six centuries, and | there are a dozen smaller volcanoes on the islet, which contains only twenty- 1 I six suuare miles, and a population of 1 about 25,000. Its present fate revivifies . the historic reputation of the Vesuvius ;' region as one where nature brings side by side her beauties and terrors. The imperial family of Germany is ' quite able to support itself. If the crown prince were deprived of his in-; heritance he could easily win bread and j butter by his skill as a turner; while his eldest son, Prince TYilhelm, is an excel- 1 lent amateur artisan. On the emperor's I cabinet are several samples of his dead : 'gran a soil ^/lcmtff^p?Ofe-T?V-y - as a i bookbinder. This acquisition of a tracte ?. is in accordance with the traditionary < custom of the royal family, whi?*h prescribes that every prince of the blood shall learn some useful handicraft, so as to strengthen his spirit of independence and make him wise through actual contact with the material world. A lmshman named Shulthorpe has , teiegrapneu irom iiiacjv.au, Ausinuia, j asserting that lie lias found the explorer Leichardt's grave, and has recovered the j diary of the whole of the last cxpedi- ] tion, together with other relics. Leich- ( ardt was an able young German bota- , nist, who set out to explore the then least known i>art of Australia some twenty years ago. He disappeared, and though expedition after expedition was sent in search of him and his companions, 110 traces whatever were found of ' the party. Humors came in from time to time that he was detained among the blacks, or that he had been cut oil' bv them, but nothing was ever definitely known as to his fate. ( 1 rr~ 1.i ~ J. LilipLlillll'U Iliru IU luium ] settlements where no liquor can be sold ] will be interested in the decision of the > New York supreme court in the case of i the Colorado Springs settlement. Build- t ing lots were there sold with the con- , dition annexed that intoxicating liquors ; should never be tended or manufactured ] ! 011 them, and this condition having been > lUJUit'U i n 11 giuiiiui, twin uuciu|/?uu u? open a barroom, suit was brought to eject liim. His Mouse was that a man j has the right to ilo anything not pro- . liibited by law on his own property; ] but the supreme court has decided against hiin, and lias adjudged his title forfeited by his breach of the condition in his grant. j As fortunes are considered nowadays, ' Peter Cooper is not a Very rich man. j Four years ago he gave a million dollars , apiece to Edward Cooper, his only .son, j and A. S. Hewitt. He reserves for him-" i self an income of about a million dollars, the most of which lie gives away. So much of his money is pledged to the support of his various works that he has ( none wherewith to respond to the 700 j begging letters which ho yearly receives. For the last ten years he has received them at an average rate of two a day. During the war his income from his iron works, which are among the largest in ) the country, averaged $1,500 a day, but ; during the last few years the losses have been heavy, the firm refusing to discharge any of its men. The city of Chicago proposes to ven- ] ture upon a new field of achievement.; ! and conquest. Il is now maturing the < ] details; of a musical festival similar to i those which have been held in Cincin- < nati for several yeais past, and has l already settled the following points: ? "The festival will occur in May of next i year; its conductor will bo Theodore ? Iliomas, who will have entire anil sole j control of the music; a chorus of a t thousand voices will he gotten together t as speedily as possible and put into t training; an orchestra of two hundred ( of tho best instrumentalists will be t drilled by Thomas, and the solists will t be the greatest living artists." The * tame orchestra will be used in May fes- i tivals in New York city and Cincinnati, l I and the soloists will l?c the same in all. > ' Whisky in Maine," says Xeal Dow, j j "is carried in small bottles in the 1 ! Dockets of the liiinor sellers, ami dealt i j out upon tlio slv ; it is put into teapots, } placed upon tho kitchen shelf; it is J i imilt into the walls of houses, in tin ( cans, with a small rubber pipe, by ( ! which to draw it oil'; it is concealed in j J small bottles in the bed ; it is concealed ( | in bottles under the floor, put there i j through a trap that can be only reached i by removing the bed ; it is conccaled in I small flat bottles in the ash pit under j the ovens of the cooking stoves; it is j hidden in wells attached to strings : fastened some inches below the surface | of the wafer; it is buried in manure , heaps ; it is concealed under the floor ) of tlie pigsty ; it is hidden away upon , the flat roof of the house, access-, to it j being had only by a ladder through a ] scuttle; it is hidden in attics, under the ( j floor and in cellars buried in the , j earth." I The Ames Manufacturing company,'of J ! Chicopee, Mass., has taken along stride , . toward a return to the old apprentice { | system. The company has been very | : much troubled to get skilled help, and ( also by having men leave after they , | have learned enough to begin to be use- j j ful. It has now adopted a plan some| thing like the former system, only the < ! term of serving is not more than three i | or four years instead of seven, and ap- < 1 plications come in by scores. The men i j sign a contract to stay to the end of the i term, and the company will teach them j , the different branches of the business, : so that when they go out they will l>e , masters of the trade, instead of knowing I how to run but one machine or to do ; but one particular kind of work. The company keeps ten cents a day from | their pay until it amounts to 8100, | which is given to them at the end of the apprenticeship. | It is believed that the railroad tie { of the future will be cut from the beautiful catalpa tree. The Fort Scott, Texas and Gulf railroad have planted j 300 acres of young trees and the Iron Mountain railroad 100 acres near Charles! ton, Mo. On the track-bed of the latter j company ties of this wood have lain in the muddy silt of the Mississippi for i j twelve years and are still in a good state i of preservation. They have outlasted ' two sets of white oak ties aiul bid fair to 1 survive the third. Fence posts in Indiana and Illinois are now sound after hav- j1 ing been in service for forty, fifty and even seventy-five years. In the muddy ^ regions about Cairo, where it is grown extensively, it is used as "comer-stones" ; ^ for the most substantial buildings. It is of an elastic nature but not so soft anil light as cottonwoou. jjr. .jonn a. , j Warder, president of the American For-' estrv association, claims for tlie cutnlpa ' 1 a durability and power of resistance to ? the influence of the elements possessed by no other wood. It is found in the ! j. Mississippi valley and on the shores of j the tributaries of the great river. Itj j boars a large, white, highly-perfumed ], flower and grows quite rapidly. ; f On the cedar bluffs of the Cumber- j, land river, live miles south of Somerset, | Kv., the birds have been holding a eon- i B vention. If the accounts are correct j till tlift feathered tribes lchown to that ? region atd ma:ay seldom or never seen in this country have been represented, j g Their sessions began every day ftt si:n-1 down, nnd their number was so great _ that when disturbed by a curious visi- i e tor the noise of their wings was like \ distant thunder. The most singular! s feature of the gathering was the perfect, harmony and good-will that prevailed.' The hawk and the dove, the sparrow and the owl perched on the same branch.; j and conferred with apparent pleasure u and profit. In the morning when the i session ended, the air was thick with (1 darting forms of every size and color, j ? This description sounds apocryphal, and is probably .somewhat exaggerated, but ^ naturalists have long admitted the oc- y L-asional congregation of birds of differ- 1 ent species drawn together by home jn means and for some purpose which L: baffled all rational attempts at explana- i (ion. The Sun niul the Weather. Among most nations the sun's red-; {] ness on rising or setting has been re gurueu as ominous, auu iuiiuhuuu um- a terials for various proverbs. One old j English'adage informs us that , n " If rod the tun begins his race, I o ]Jc atire that man will fall apace 1 i notion referred to by Christ in ?St. v Matthew's Gospel (xvi. 2, ;J): " When it j is evening, ye say, It will be fair j s] weather, for the sky is red; and in the morning, It will be foul weather to-dav, p for the sky is red and lowering." It (j may be remembered, too. how graphi-, :allv Shakespeare speaks of this popu- 0 lar rule in his " Venus and Adonis": Like a red mom, that ever yet betokened ci iVreck to the seamen, trinjjest. to flic field, ' 1 ei SfTi'V?>\V-ty _ s11ci) 11on 1 h, woe unto the birds. . 'Justs and l'oiil fi?nvs to herdmen and to herds.''; al rVnd the familiar rli^EliLtclls, lis how "Sky red iu the morning ~ . c Is a sailor's warning." In Milan we are told, referring to i t. continental observations, that "ii tliejmom be red rain is at hand;" and. again, jJ "if tlie sky be red when the morning j star is shining, there will be rain during _ the week." As is well known, however, jj x red sunset is just as propitious as the ^ former is unlucky, "a red sky at night being a shepherd's delight," and, ac- \ * cording to a saying formerly very cur- 1 rent in England, ! _ " Tim evening roil, morning gray, 1? a sign of a lair day." _ . . . J n Indeed, there are numerous proverbs an this subject, all to the same purpose, v i Scotch one being as follows: " The evening red find the morning gray rl Is the sign of a bright and cheery day; The evening gray and the morning red, l'nt o?i your hut, or you'll wet your head." There is a prevalent notion that if a change of weather occurs about (lie ^ Lime when the sun is crossing the " meridian, it will be for twelve hours at least. The proverbs relating to the sunjet are even, perhaps, more numerous than those associated with sunrise, every *i.? a DU|J|iV/OUU IAJ UVUVbV Ult ^ coming weather. Tims Shakespeare, in tj Richard II (ii. 4), referring to a' popular belief, tells how jj " The huh sots weeping in the lawlv went, K) Witnessing stonns to conn-, woe and unrest." . 1 Si A.niil when, too, it Ffots like a ball of tire, ; 81 it is said to have " water in its eye." 0 Again, a pale sunset is a bail sign, if we s. may believe the rhyme: f, "If the sun goes pah- to bed, o 'Twill rain to-nioirow, it is said.*' t] A hazy sunset, too, is eqiially unsatis- p factory, for we are tohl that "when the n lir is hazy, so that the sofar light fades p gradually, and looks white, rain will v most certainly follow." When, however, n it the time of sunset there is a clear 1 sky, it is said to indicate calm a rtcather: tl " When tin* ?un si-Ih bright and clear. C An easterly wind von need not fear." a But if, on the other hand, the sky is eov- b ?red with lloocy clouds, it is an indica-. a :ion of wind: t< "Wlieli the sun sets in a bank, Vi A uv.otr.rlv xvi.i.l l?. mI.hU i,nt l-ick " li V golu<n sunset is generally regarded is one of the most favorable tokens of ' [ine weather, in allusion to which tl Shakespeare, in his liichard III., says: ' "Tin; weary win hath made a golden set, Ami, by the bright track of hi* fiery ear, l'1 (Jives signal of a goodly day to-morrow." f] But. when the sun at setting casts a si lurid red light on the sky as far as the tl senith, it is said to be an infallible sign ei )f storms and gales of wind. Once a nore, the streaks of light occasionally seen when the sun shines through 11 jroken clouds are, according to an old tl mperstitious fancy, believed to be pipes -J reaching into the sea, the water, it is si supposed, being drawn up through them ei into the clouds, ready at any moment' g ;o be discharged upon the earth in the w shape of rain. This superstition, how- t; ver, is curious, containing, as it tl Iocs, some vestiges of truth. Al- es hough, as has been pointed out, si .lie streaks of sunshine are not p letual pipes, vet they are, at any rate, tl risible signs of the sun's actions, which, a] _>y evaporating the waters, provides a n it ore of vapor to be converted into rain, ai V species of rainbow, without either tl jillar or arch, having only a base, is 01 .mown by sailors as the " sun-dog," and tl s considered indicative of windv, squally weather. In some parts of CI bhiglund the light, fleecy clouds that 01 ncircle the sun in wimly weather are ' si . ailed " foxy sun-clouds," being sup- ; J' josed to presage changeable and trench-' c< rous weather, a notion embodied in he following couph t: Mai-krivl sky, liiacki ivl sky, Never long wet. awl m-vcr long ilry. The Horseshoe " for Luck.'' H The origin of the horseshoe superstiion has never been satisfactorily explained. Among the theories offered, '* " hat contained in the following will aide as among the possibilities. 111 The horseshoe was of old held to ie of special service as a security against lie attacks of evil spirits. The virtue nay have been assigned, perhaps, by :he rule of contraries, it being incom[Kitible with the cloven foot of the Evil Due ; or from the rude resemblance which I lie horseshoe bears to the rays of (,( jlory which in ancient pictures are made :o surround tho heads of saints and ingels; or, linallv, from some notions af its purity, acquired through passing through the lire. 1' This latter supposition recieves some [ ountenance from the method resorted 1' lo for the cure of horses that had become vicious, or alllicted by any distemper which village farriers do not understand; such disease was in variably attributed to witchcraft, and the' mode of cure seems to imply the belief that the imperfect purification bv lire of tlie shoes which the animal wore had afforded an inlet to malevolent in- h Hncnees. Accordingly, the horse was led into the smithy; the door was closed l(( and barred; the shoes were taken oil' and placed in the tire, and the witch or 0) warlock was speedily under the necessity of removing tho spell under which the animal suffered. SJ Sailors are, for the most part, careful ' to have a horseshoe .nailed to the mizzenmast, or somewhere on deck near ^ midship, for the protection of their vessel. The Chinese have their tombs built in the shape of the horseshoe, a which custom is very curious, as it may ^ be fairly regarded as a branch of the superstition long prevalent among our- ft selves. y VAfflYATTrtW tVhiu the Best French Authority linn to Say About It. , "We give below the conclusions of Dr. i Froussagraves, a celebrated Frcncli niter on smallpox, regarding vaccinaion: 1. Vaccination has preserved and till preserves an incalculable number of ives. 2. The number of blind and deaf las considerably diminished under the nfluence of vaccination. 3. Vaccination preserves human leautv. 4. The charges made against vaccinaioii, when sifted down, are bound to lave no foundation. 5. Vaccination does not cause eneel ded constitutions nor destroy the tealth. G. It does not make typhoid fever aorc prevalent. 7. It does not increase the number i consumptives. 8. It does not transmit scrofula and kin diseases. 9. It is only dangerous in the hands f ignorant and incompetent practitionrs. 10. The innocence of the practice is o marked that in many countries vacination is obligatory. 11. Vaccination is not infallible. 12. Itevaceination is necessary when i lie initial vaccination nas icii poor larks. 18. The fact of an interior variolic rnption does not dispense with a revacination. 14. It is necessary to revaccinate at 211 years, at twenty vedrs and at forty ears. i 15. Beyond the age of forty it is not eccssary tu revaccinate the fourth ) me, only during periods of violent epi- i emics. 1(>. It is necessary to vaccinate as soon i 5 possible. i 17. Vaccination can be practiced at ! le date of birth. < 18. Vaccinations can be practiced at ] 11 seasons. 19. The period of dentition should i ot prevent vaccination if the urgency f the case demands such a step. ] *20. No age is safe from variola, pro- j ided the subject be unvaccinatcd. < 21. Vaccination and revaccination 1 liould only 1 >e performed by a physician. s 22. Well-cliosen vaccinc matter ex- I oses the subject to no transmissible f isease. 2'-J. Animal vaccine has no superiority f vcr well-chosen humanized vims. 1 24. Well-chosen vaccine, from the 3\v or cow-pox, must be carefully gath- t red to mjike stock for human vacciu- ) tion. fit" ( 2.1. Living vaccir*>, inoculated" fipiu nn to arm, must &.vraya be preferred to J .u-cine in_tubes and on quills. l 20.111 vaccine on poin!S^?Bii^/ om an nnkri&Wfl. ftource must 1)6 re^i icted. 1 27. It is necessary to place the ? f vaccine in the following order: FirSt"-* -Spontaneous cow-pox vaccine. Second t [uman' vaccine transmitted from arm { 3 arm. Third?Hainan vaccine trans- f lanted on heifers. Fourth?Keccntly J reserved vaccine from a pure source. 1 28. It is is prudent to make a certain i umber of incisions. 2:1. The impression of variola may be 1 lade until the lifth day of vaccination. 1 30. An infant is not enfeebled by f accination. :J1. lJcvaccinations recognize the same lies as vaccination. i 152.'Pregnancy and nursing are not npediments to vaccination. :i:i. It is altogether an advantage to ' [tccinate or revaccinatc in times of epi- 1 emic. 1 ? 1 The End of the World. ] .Tames M. Swormstedt lias figured it 1 ut that the world will come to an eml ( t midnight of November 1*2, 18H1. He i Loses his wonderful and fearful predio- < on as follows: 1 "It is a very remarkable coincidence i mt at midnight of November 12 the i jven stars from whence Christ will de- I ?end, and Jupiter, the earth, and the ] nn will be in a direct lino with each ] tlier. The comet will, I think, come ] truight from this line. The most dire- 1 nl effects will follow its contact with ur planet. Both bodies traveling at < lie late of more than a thousand miles ' er minute, there can but ensue the tost disastrous consequences. It will ] roduce the most awful earthquakes, oleanie eruptions, whirlwinds and tor- ' adoes the world has ever witnessed, i 'lie mountains will tlow down with lava, ! Iso with torrents of water, caused bv lie melting of the accumulated snow of i outlines. Whole cities will be swept way by these floods. Other cities will e thrown down by great earthquakes, : .. 1 -A *11 - i-1 ? n 1 1 i.? . iiu ."jtiii uuiera >wii u?* ur.Mru>t'u uj ? srnadoes anil whirlwinds. Many others i 'ill lie destroyed by lire and brimstone, < ike Sodom and Gomorrah. "Isaiah xxiv tells us the earth will i eel to and fro like a drnnkard' under i lie mighty bombardment through which : will have to go. St. John says: 'The eaven will depart as a scroll when it is ! oiled together.' This indicates that i lie force of the great concussion will be i a dreadful and produce such a tempest 1 iiat the cloud which surrounds the ' urtli will be 'rolled together as a scroll' 1 iid carried oil" by the comet. < The earth will present a wretched and i lined appearance as it emerges beyond io comet's train. According to St. i oIid, the world will bccomo panicricken us the comet approaches the | arth. Kings will desert their thrones, : reat men their estates, rich men their I ealth, the chief captains and thoniigh- < . men their armies, and all other men ] leir occupations, and will floe to the 1 xves and rocks of the mountains for i lelter. And after they reach those 1 laces, their terror will he so great amid i ie appalling calamities that herald the t [>proaeh of the Christ they have so long t ejected they will call for the mountains id rocks to fall on them, and hide ( lem fi;om the face of Him that sitteth 1 11 the throne, and from the wrath of i ie Lamb. <4 \ 11 ,..i.~ i\ . /Ill \\ IIU lll('XIX7>i*l\WIMUIV HI I oil now, ami sock the shelter pointed I nt in the Hist Psalm will receive the tpcrnatural protection promised in this 1 salm, and will he made innnorta! at the i :>niing of the Son of God." < Bible Terms. : Headers of the JJible will be inter- 1 ted in the following explanation of ] qircssions frequently met with in the < [oly Scriptures: A day's journey was '.}' > 1-5 miles. A Sabbath day's journey was about 3 English mile. 1'i/ekiel's reed is said to have been \ early 11 feet long. 1 A cubit is *22 inches nearly. A finger's breadth is equal to 1 inch. ' A shekel was about 50 cents. A shekel of gold was $K.07. A talent of silver was 5>l,050.fc(?. A talent of gold was ?2f!,-U8. ' A piece of silver, or a penny, was 13 1 uits. 1 A farthing was 13 cents. A gerali was 2 cents. ' A mi.'e was 1 -2 cent. i A homer contained 75 gallons and 5 1 ints. 1 An ephah, or bath, 7 gallons and t 1 ints. ? A hin was 1 gallon and 2 pints. : A firkin was 7 pints. ' An omer was (1 pints. ' A cab was 3 pints. ' A log was 1-2 pint. Words of Wisdom. Whoever learns to stand alone must ' arn to fall alone. A truth that one does not understand ecoines a error. Beware of him who hates the laugh 1 f a child or children. ' If you would never have an evil deed (oken of in connection with you, don't o one. The beam of the benevolent eye iveth value to the bounty which tiie and dispenses. People do not. need to know more hout virtue, but rather to practice what iioy already know. i It' there is any person to whom you ( ?cl a dislike, that is the person of whom , oil ought never to speak. i m AN INTERESTING INVALID. Mr. Spoopcndykc'H Narrow Escape from the Silent Tomb. "Why, what's the matter, my dear?" cried Mrs. Spoopendyke, as Mr. Spoopendyke limped into the room and dropinfa n "Wliof r\r\ noi4lt line happened to you ?" "X fell down and killed myself," moaned Mr. Spoopendyke. ' Now? where?" asked Mrs Spoopen- i dyke, bustling around him, all nervousness. "How did you do it ?" "Slipped on the ice and broke my arm from head to foot," sighed Mr. Spoopen-' dyke, faintly. ""Great gracious!" ejaculated Mrs. i Spoopendyke. "Whereabouts? where did it happen ?" "Out doors, dod gast it! Where d'ye s'pose I did it ? Think I brought the j ice in the house and laid down on it ? | Oh, dear! -I'll never get my clothes off' again. I've got to sit here and die ; 1 and Mr. Spoopendyke leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes with resig-1 nation. "I'll help yon ofl' with your hat and ! overcoat," said Mrs. Spoopendyke, ten- j derlv. "Let me help yon." "Bo very careful ulout taking off my , hat," said Mr. Spoopendyke, rousing uj).' "Take it off easy, or you'll hurt my el- j bow. Pull the left arm of my overcoat clown, so it will slip off What ye do-! ing ? Trying to skin me ? That sleeve's ; full of broken bones, I tell ye. Now help'me to a chair. I knew I must go sometime, but I never expected to die so suddenly as. this," and Mr. Spoopendyke lifted his sprained arm and drop-, ped it again, to see if there was any animation left in his system. "Can't I do something for you dear ?" said Mrs. Spoopendyke, with tearful j eves. "If you could sing a liymu without starting the cats, it might make my last minutes more peaceful," replied Mr.! Spoopendyke, putting his feet on a' chair and composing himself for dissolution. "You'd better let me attend to your mn,' recommended Mrs. Spoopendyke-.; :'If it is badly sprained, you ougllt to liave something on it." "Didn't I tell ye it was broken ? Just! jot curiosity to see, haven't ye ? Can't! trail for the post mortem, can ye? Go 1 ihead. Do what you please. In a lit- j :1c while I'll be beyond pain. Jus. taka | ind do what yon like with it," and Mr. i Spoopendyke stuck the maimed arm out! straight and waved it around like a lam. "If you let me rotate it a little, and ; hen bind it up with arnica, you'll be all, ight in an hour," cried Mrs. Spoopen- [ lyke, affectionately. "Rotate it, then," murmured Mr. 1 ijpoopenilykc. "I don't suppose it will; niake much difference to my estate, rake it down in th&^kitchen and rotate T. mighty?hold on, dod gast it! iVhat "d'ye thinTTlim?i-gump,? Got m idea rra a clock ? Let ^ yiljj'e ?" and Mr. Spoopendyke pran&a s u-ounu Hlie _room "OL! you're a surgeon, you aro> -All yon want is a bucksaw and a broken bulftstfaflf) -4o-bcu J nodical college. Going to pull it out ' jy the roots ? S'pose that's a tooth ? It: sn't, it's an arm, and it's busted like a :orpedo !" and Mr. S])00pendyke, who nad been brandishing the injured member, began to stroke his shoulder and sympathize with himself. "Let me bathe it in arnica," said Mrs. Spoopendyke. "That's the best thing 1 11 the world. Just let me turn up your ; shirt sleeve and I'll fix it in a minute." j "Very good," said Mr. Spoopendyke ; 'I don't suppose it will do any harm to lurry matters. Is my dress suit all 1.-1 o Tr T l _ - jrusiieu : xiuve x yrn u sunt wim ? mtton on the back to be buried in ? Save I got n pair of socks that my irn-1 nortal soul won't shine through the toes i )f ? 'Cause, if I haven't, ye'd better use ' some of your measly arnica on my i jlothes. If you think I'm going into :he tomb all covered with grease, and nv shirt flapping around on me like I ivas a clothes Ii ae, you're mistaken, :hat's all," and Mr. Spoopendyke eyed iris wife gloomily, while she prepared to lave his sprained shoulder. "Will you put me in a casket? lie moaned as she began operations. "Yes, dear," replied Mrs. Spoopen-1 Ivke. Mr. Spoopendyke regarded his wife with one eye, and grunted feebly. "And you'll put on a silver plate with , my name^and age, and get a few flowers ? STou don't want many. I shan't miss 'em if there ain't more'n six. Will you attend to it?" "Yes," answered Mrs. Spoopendyke,j "I'll see that you have lots of flowers i and a big fun?" "I don't want any big funeral. Suppose I'm being cut oft' in the midst of my usefulness just because funerals are cheap ? Have you got a clean handkerchief to put in my pocket when I'm [lead?" "Certainly, dear," replied Mrs. Spoopendyke; and having thoroughly bathed the'arm, she bandaged it carefully. "Don't you feel better?" "Perhaps if it were amputated in time I might get well," rejoined Mr. Spoopsndyke, hitching his arm around to see ! if lie could fancl a pain anywhere.! "What kind of a cravat have I got to wear in ease of?in the event of?the worst ?" and Mr. Spoopendyke approaeli3d the climax of his question as becomes x man who shrinks from the inevitable. "The one you've got on will do, won't it?" inquired Mrs. Spoopendvke. "No, it won't either. Is that all I've jot? Expect I'm going to be buried miong strangers in adod-gasted necktie that won't hold together four days longer? Calculate that I'm going to the promised land as though I was hunting for a job? Want me to prowl around | miong the late lamented as though I'd Imsteil ii)) in business? Think I'm a measly tramp 9" and Mr. Spoopendyke ;ore oil'the tie and stamped on it, and :hen dove into the bed. "Can't yon bring up my breakfast ?" Jemanded ZVIr. JSpoopondyke, the next norning. "My arm's so.lame T can't go Imvnshtivx." Mrs. ftpoopendyke brought it to liim in hoar Inter; when dressing, he asked for his necktie. "I wish you'd look for it,'' querulously. "You know I can hardly move." "Here it is, dear," said Mrs. Spoopenlyke, handing it to him. "You tore it >11' hist night with your sprained arm;" md she left for downstairs without waiting to hear his remark about "measly wives, who need a long heard and a :*omie song hook to ho a Solomon." ? /{I'mil'li/it / ?' /'/A'. ?w Use lor Sawdust. Tin' Li'iiifirntKoi says: We have heen ihown the model of a ear wheel eonsistii^C of an iron rim of seven inches outivanl diameter by one-half inch thick, itted with a well-proportioned huh, the (pace between the huh and rim tilled ivith pine sawdust, pressed in so solidly hat ve are ready to believe the assertion hat, resting the iron rim upon bearings, a >rossure equal to twenty-three tons apilied to the hub failed to develop any iigns of weakness. We hesitate,in these luy.s of progress, to assert that anything is lit possible, and we begin to think that veil sawdust possesses elements of value lit hcrto unsuspected, and that the day nay come when the tilled grounds adja ent to all sawmills may be seen to have i great value in the mechanical development ami utilization of the now useess debris placed upon them to get it >ut nf the way. Sawdust car wheels, sawdust brick, sawdust fence-posts, rail oad ties, and even sawdust window and loot- frames, wainscoting and moldings icgin to appear among the possibilities if the immediate future. Carrier- IMgcons. The "Berlin society for training carrierpigeons recently published some inter sting details concerning the rapid li^'ht of these birds. At the last meetng in 1880 the pigeon which won the irize Mew in live hours and twenty-seven liinutes the distance between Cologne uid Berlin, which, as the crow Hies, measures miles. This is the most apid Might which 1ms ever been known, fhe Berlin society owns 1.500 old ear-. L'ier-pigeons, and during last year bought iol) young ]>igeons for Paris, Aix-la['hapelle and Belgium, with a view to unejiorate the breed by a mixture of. new blood. - - i FOR THE FAIR SEX. Vhnt Women Have Done. Ten years ago a woman who lived in a large New England village was left a widow with fonr children and a little less than 8300 in money. Friends, after the fashion that friends have at sucli times, advised lier to "put the children out and perhaps she could support herself by sewing or teaching;" but, like the plucky woman that she was, she made answ;' : " My children shall uuL be separated while I liave health and strength to work for them." She rented a house with a few acres of land adjoining, invested the greater part of the $300 in poultry, feed and "fixtures," and went to work. The friends predicted a speedy failure. " Did she expect to support a family of five on the profits from a few chickens V" "Yes, I expect to do just that," she answered. " When I was a girl I always managed the poultry on father's farm, and as I made it pay then, I see no reason why I cannot make it pay now." "You'll see," said the "wise ones. (( Tf'cj Aim rtm'niAn fV?of mil liova it o UlU pituic nuuu juw thrown away the little money that yon had. Five * dollars for a rooster!" and eyes were rolled up and heads shaken over the " shixtlessness " of the woman who paid " five dollars for a rooster." Last winter I met this woman at a poultry show, and she told me of her success. She had educated her children, paid for her little farm (worth ?800), and had ?300 in the hank. Another woman, whose husband fell from a building and was cripplcd for life, took up poultry-raising because it was the only thing she could do at home; that was thirteen years ago, and to-day she owns a fine farm well stocked, has money in bonds and in the bank. A young woman whose health failed in the close confinement of the schoolroom went to raising poultry because she was obliged to do something for a living, and because the doctors advised mental rest, and as much active outdoor exercise as possible. In two years lier health was firmly established", but in the meantime she had found poultrykeeping so pleasant and profitable that she refused to teach again. She has been in the business five years, and is earning a fortune as fast as ever a pair of woman's hands earned one. Last year the writer made a clear profit of almost 81,000 on a breeding stock of some 200 chickens, ducks and turkeys. I do not publish this to boast over 'my success, but to show other women what a woman can do under the most favdrable circumstances. The favorable circumstances in my case were a splendid stock of breeding fowls, healthy location, a thorough knowledge of my business in all its branches, and nearness to a first-class market. Of course, some doubting individuals i stand ready to declare that it is impossible to makefire dollarspiofit oaevery. actuMwvlkept, bat if they will stop and consia&rt&afclget springchickgjis ^sell readily for one dollart*^ t?S!!^tt-teii^and twelve- j pound capons for~ thirty centa-ft. pound; f that I manage to have eggs to "s^Lij^ winter when I can get from thirty to thirty-live cents a dozen, and that I sell { a few trios of exhibition birds every year, they will see where the big profit i comes in. Now don't stop light here and give up all thoughts of raising chickens just because you cannot get such prices in your locality, but wait until I give you a few hints from my experience. I have kept poultry in the West where eggs sold at the " stores " for eight cents a dozen in summer, and poultry sold in the fall for seven bents a pound, live weight, but I made it pay. We lived on a line of railroad, 200 miles from a city market, but I soon found out that all the poultry and eggs from our place went to the city, and I could not for the life of me see why I could not ship such things just as well as the merchants, so I sent a thirty-dozen package of fresh eggs to a commission house in the city; I they sold readily, and there was a call I for more. "These small packages of eggs, every one warranted fresh, are just what we want," wrote tlie commission man. I did some more thinking, and then put on my good clothes and went to the city. Once there it did not take me long to find a grocer who wanted thirty dozen fresh eggs a week, so I sliipped the eggs direct to him, and saved the commission merchant's profits. In the fall I sold my poultry the same way. There was no thoroughbred poultry in the vicinity except that in my yards, and when people began to find out that my chickens were superior to tlm (inmmfm lYinnirrnl fowls. t.llfiV honcllt a great many eggs for hatching. There was not one pair of any of the improved varieties of ducks in the county. I sent a thousand miles for a pair of Pekins, and within a month after they arrived everybody had the duck fever, and I was overrun with orders for ducks before a single egg hatched. I also procured some bronze turkeys that I raised at good prices. Every woman who goes into poultryraising may not be able to get in those "extras," but even-woman who desires to earn money by raising poultry, and goes into the business with a determination to succeed, will be sure to make it pay, even if she sells every egg and every chicken at market prices.? Prairie Farmer. I'anliion Freak m. Frills of very fully gathered Spanish lace are put around the neck and sleeves. Spauis lace, Breton, thread and steel, or jetted laces are used for garniture. Pink or blue muslin hems an inch wide are all around wide mull neckties. An effort is made to revive the oldfashioned silver gray shades to use with steel and silver laces. Shirred cuffs of India muslin are to be worn outside the dressed .sleeves, turned up from the wrists. The material for which the greatest popularity is predicted is the satin merveilleux in bayadere stripes. "'1 -i.~ 1. J. IIf IMIKU \> 1111 lU^Ul'l until rower sides is among the latest bonnets. It is more conspicuous than ever. La?-e braid will be combined with smooth braid in the straw bonnets this year, one being used for the crown and the other for the brim. The round hats are made in large picturesque shapes with soft brim not wired, and lined with a plaited lace frill, or else fully pulled satin. A great deal of ribbon is used for trimming pokes, and this is from live to seven inches wide; especially is it wide for strings, and all pokes have strings. Plaid and plain goods are combined in some of the summer suits, the plaids being used for the plaiting* and for bordering the basque and draperies. Coiil'ures have just enough additional fullness, either from false^ hair or ingenious arrangement, to make them very becoming. For black round hats there are steel trimmings, and voluminous scarfs of Spanish lace put on to cover nearly all the top of the crown, as well as to surround it. Dark gray shaded to silver gray is a favorite omber silk for bonnets, the trimmings consisting of steel and silver beads, steel and silver ornaments, and shaded dark and silver gray ostrich tips. Stockings must match the dress in both the color of the ground and in the (lower or ligure embroideries on the instep, when the dress is composed even in part of flowered or figured materials. Long gloves reaching above the elbow have the length above the wrist oftener formed of alternate rows of lace and kid than of Kid alone ; the tops are invari ably finished with a frill of lace above the elbow. Combinations of materials seem to be as popular as ever, and spring costumes are composed partly of plain goods, and partly of brocade; but when two fabrics are selected for a dress they are generally chosen both of the same color unless for very dressy evening toilets, the difference of texture producing .sufficient variety. i d ? Reliirion in Leadvillc. The Rev. T. J. Mackey is a clergyman * ^ I stationed in Leadville. Some idea of the state of religious development in - 1 that remarkable town may be gathered from the following extract from an address delivered by him in the church of the llev. Dr. Newton, Philadelphia. _ , After describing Leadville s tliiift ana : | growth, the Kev. Mackey said : ' My first vestryman could, drink more whisky than any man in fclTe towit - ; f ! Shortly after I made my appearance in , the town my parishioners invited me to"' | a church sociable, and upon goingI'Vaa " J astonished to see the worthy people^ waltzing and dancing in the moat scan-"\ ' | dalous manner. To add to this there I were two streets whose entire length. 3 ; were made up of low dance-housei ^ 1 How was I to overcome such a gigantic evil ? I secured a hall, had the floor 4 ? ' waxed, and after engaging a band of . | music, I sent out invitations to all the - i s young men of the place to come down % ! and have a dance. I instructed my floor ' . manager?who, by the way, made lots of money and skipped?not to allow any j, waltzing. The result was, that after en- f -* joying square dances until 11 o'clock, ,;~Jj the participants quietly dispersed. Some few Raid ! "Wait till the nreflrrhfl* " 31 ! goes, then we'll have a 'waltz but I , was too smart for them?I carried the % j key of the hall, and did not leave until | all had departed. Every- other week Ii give such a sociable, and the results are ' ; remarkably good. This class of mis- - ' >1 sionary work would not do in Philadelpliia or Boston, but it will do in Lead-: * ville. It may seem ungodliko to prac-: ^ tice such a course, but it is the only way to reach these people. When I first went out there the congregation used to applaud me when I was preaching, but ^ i finally got them out of such an unholy' habit. Leadville is a great place for display funerals. No matter wh<T dies, * the funeral procession is headed by a ' ? ! brass band. Wiien I buned Texas JaCK, j the partner of Buffalo Bill, the cortege ; y"?. i was headed by a brass band of forty-two : j pieces. Leadville is also a great place - ^ for titles. Everybody has a title. Cap- SojS tain is pretty good, but to command at-' ; tention one must be a colonel or a gen-:; I eral. I am a sort of generated*'?; I belong to five military compan-' ies/ and in my capacity of militiaman ; II watoli over my congregation. Eminent Shoemakers. ^ Perhaps it was Coleridge who first re I marked upon the great number of &oe Vv'Al i makers that have become emi neat in various walks of life; and certain it is ! ftiaf monroTinna anrl nnU'QnanArH TmVP. I found in men who sprang from this employment to higher things many sub-,,-' ; jeets for interesting sketches, obituary ^ notices and special afflcISST ~? There was a man some years ago in . Portland?probably a shoemaker, but, ^ at all events, too modest to give his name?who published a book which. he, yg. called "Eminent Shoemakers," and the shoemaker Scotland "! the celebr&?HBHPWIHflH8^ollBU!K!P'IEE shoemaker succeeded in > bringing to-, get] er. " -^rtlliam Gilford, the founder and " ' long the edUOTfcUfeft-i^idfr^MTTT^r--^ licview, and than whom probably noshoemaker ever had " one sutor" thrown . : at him more often or with better effect*.";. * toiled, we are informed, six long years; \ at the trade which he said himself he " hated with a perfect hatred." George ; Fox, whom, by the way, Carlyle has, 0 , 'celebrated as one of the .noblest -.a* men in England, "making himself 6 " : suit of leather," divided his ti between making shoes and caring fof ' j sheep until he began tQ preach thog6.'^_ ' sermons of his, and to do that Chris'- ; . tian work which finally gave unto the- ' world the lint organization of the So- .... ciety of (Quakers, liobert Bloomfield, " ~ the poet, made shoes, and of him it was :"iyr~ once said that he was " the most spiritnal shoemaker that ever liandled an * awl." Hans Sachs, the friend of Luther, who wrote live folio volumes in verse that are printed, and five others that' are not, was a most diligent maker of slices in quaint old Nuremberg, and, for all he wrote, never made a shoe the less, he said, and virtually reared a large v family by the labor of his hands, independent of his poetry. ^ Among others this author mentions 1 no less a name than Noah "Worcester. Eoger Sherman, too, is on his list, and Thomas Holcroft. Others might be? Henry Wilson one of tliem. Indeed, it i should not be forgotten that the father " V of Jolin Adams, our second-president j and the father of our sixth, made many a shoe in his day during the leisure ; \ which his farm-life gave him. i . iK Condensed History of Steam. . ? si * About 280 years B. C., Hero, of Alexandria, formed a toy which exhibited some of the powers of steam, and was >; 1 moved by its power. In 540 A. D., an architect arranged several caldrons of water, each covered j with the wide bottom of a leather tube, which rose to a narrow top, with pipes | extended to the rafters of an adjoining i building. Afire was kindled beneath the caldrons, and the house was shaken with the efforts of the steam ascending the tubes. This is the iirst notice of j the power of steam recorded. In 1532, June 17, Basco de Garav tried a steamboat of 200 tons with tolerable success, at Barcelona, Spain. It consist- . ^ ! ed of a caldron of boiling water and a * moveable wheel on the side of the ship. - . It was laid aside as impracticable. Ji ^ present was, however, made to Garay. j In 1(530 the first railroad was coni structed at Newcastle-on-Tyne. _ , > e The first idea of a steam-engine in M England was in the Marquis Worcester's "Historyof Inventions" A.D., 1663. In 1701 Newman made the tirst engine in England. . . . ! In 1763 James Watt made the first perfect steam-opgine in England. In 1776 Jonathan Hull first sel forth the idea of steam navigation. In 1778 Thomas Payne first proposed the application in America. In 17M Marquis Jouffrev constructed * a ster.mboat on the Soane. . . In 1771 two Americans published a > work on it. ^ j In 178!) Win. Symington made a voyage in one on the Forth and Clyde canal. In 1801 this experiment was repeated. In 1782 Ramsey propelled a boat by steam at New York. ? In 187!) John Fitch, of Connecticut, navigated a boat by a steam-engine on the Delaware. In 1794 Robert Fulton first began to apply his attention to steam. In 1783 Oliver Evans, a native of Philadelphia, constructed a steam engine to travel on a turnpike road. The first steam vessel that ever crossed the Atlantic was the Savannah in the month of June, from Charleston . to Liverpool. Amu-dmr Mistakes, Speaking of mispronunciation by vo- ' calists, KuubfF* Musical Review gives three amusing instances: A lady who prilled herself on the pathos with wh ch she sang Claribel's little ballad: Lovale je serai durant ma vie, Was quite takeu abaci: when a child said: " Cousin, do you sing that pretty song, 'Royal sir, sherry hurrah for mo ?'" Another lady came out at a conce/t to sing: Peace, let him rest; God knoweth l>cst. With a voice trembling with emotion sho sang: Peace, let him roa*t: God knoweth boast, Again, the song? Itory O'Monro courted Kathleen Bawn, He was lial>l as a liawk. she soft as the dawn. A girl who heard a public singer give it picked it up by ear and thought, the words were: J'orv O'Moore courted Kathleen Btwn, He poulticed the hawk, she salted it down. "What," asks ft correspondent, "causes the hair to fall out?" Before we answer we must know whether von are married or single. This is important to a true understanding of the ewe,