The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, December 14, 1881, Image 1

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: ABBEVILLE PRESS AND'mMEKl BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14. 1881. NO. 28. VOLUME XXVI. .M __ mmm? ?? i ???m <?ffel Who Is Thy Friend! Who is thy friend ? The man that shares th; pleasures In banquet hall or beauty's witching lowers He that will dance with thee to folly's measures And mako no reckoning of the squanucrec hours? To whom the revel and the game is all ? These are the friends that help men to theii fall. Who is thy friend The man thr.t shares th} pride, Thine hour of glory, or thy day of gain ; Who stands in every triumph by thy side, And never finds that triumph false or vain, But shapes liis doctrines as thy humor goes ? These are the friends misfortune turns to foe. Who is thy friend ? The man that for his winning To power or place hath need of thine or (lire Who will not fear thy risk, or blame the sinning. So it but speed his fortune's growing tree ; Whoso pruiso is large, whoso promise larger yet, These aro tbc friends that fail us and forget. Who is thy friend ? The man of truth and trust, In gladness near, in'sorrow nearer still; To thy faults generous, to thy merits just, Thy help to every good from every ill, Whose love for the world's hate niiuht make amends ? Alas for it! this life hatli few such friends. Who is thy friend ? The best, the least re garded, In faith unfailing, and in love unchanged Through ail the changeful years, though ill rewarded? Oive Him thy heart, so long and far estranged And from the broken reeds of earth ascend, To Beek in heaven thine everlasting Friend. ?Frances Eroicne, Blind IriA 1'utress. DANGEROUS COMPANY. " It is very remarkable," said my uncle, as Mr. Gregory left the room. "It is very mysteiious," said Lily, with strong emphasis on the adverb. " To me," observed an elderly lady boarder, "it appears to be something worse than mysterious; and, without making any assertions, I would at least caution you, my dear, against any closer intimacy with one who seems so often to bo possessed of information in a manner of which there is no conceivable natural explanation." " It reminds me most," said the Rev. Mr. Briggs, "of certain cases, un doubtedly well-authenticated, in which the existence of the so-called ' second sight' has been demonstrated in a very singular manner." "And," added my uncle, "although many of the professors of spiritualism have' been proved impostors, it by no means Jollows tiiut aJi?" "Yes, ves," broke in our lady friend, " but wo all know that people once had dealings with familiar spirits, and I never could find any proof that this kind of thing had ever ccased, and therefor", cs I said before, I very strongly caution yon?" '' Eueli!'' cried several voices. "Here he comes." My uncle, my cousin, Lily and I were staying at a boarding-house at the seaside, and among a somewhat-nu merous company was a certain Mr. Gregory. Wo had made his acquaint ance on the night of our arrival in a rather comical manner. lie was pass ing ocr i\.om just as Lily was calling to me in a tone of woful despair that she had broken the key in the lock and could not get out. Through the key hole he had volunteered his services as an amateur lock-picker, and released us from our imprisonment. Thib introduction had served quite as well as a much more formal one would have done to inaugurate what promised to be a pleasant seaside acquaintance. Now on first sight bo certainly presented very little appearance of being a sus picious or dangerous character. He was a young man of some twenty-five years of age, with a bright, frank ex pression and a gleam of mischief in his eye8. He was ?-iceeding)y intelligent, and well-informed, and though rather retiring in the mixed company of our establishment, could, wo discovered, sing well, read well, and talk well. Without intsuding himself upon us, he had made himself very agreeable to us two girls; and we had surmised that he was a young professional man suffering from overwork, who had como down to recruit his health. But wo are often warned against judging from appear ances, and he had during the past few dajs manifested a very remarkable power of clairvoyance or second sight, or whatever el so you like to call it, which had created a great sensation among us. On the previous day, for instance, my /nele had met a gentleman at the station and had brought him home to dinner. We saw them walking slowly up the garden together in conversation, and Lily had exclaimed. " Who on eatth is this?" Mr. Grsgor/ looked and said: "His name is Smith, and he is return ing to town by the midnight train." "You know him?" I said. "Never saw him in my life before," was the answer. Sure enough his name proved to be Smith, and he returned to town that night after a long private interview with my uncle; nor had he, he told us in answer to-our inquiries, over seen or heard of Mr. Gregory before. On Saturday morning also the Rev. Mr. Briggs, taking a walk on the beach, meditating on his Sunday text, had en countered air. Gregory, wno volunteered information as to the said text, with chapter and verse all correct, to the petrifaction of'the reverend^gentleman. On another occasion, when* [onr elderly lady friend mentioned that she had been'out'making a email purchase, Mr. Gregory informed me sotto voce that a bottle of hairwash [constituted the purchase in question. This com munication was very unfortunately overheard. Its correctness was not tit the time definitely established, but it was shortly after this that she first pro pounded her own particular theory on the subject, which she put forward with renewed confidence in th? conver sation given above, after a fresh dis play of tho unholy phenomenon as she called it. This wa* the occasion thereof. Mr. Briggs had been seen coming up tho walk in great gleo with a parcel un der his arm. " "What has he got the- 3 ?" said some one. "All the works of Josephus for ten pence," replied Mr. Gregory. Immediately afterward Mr. Briggs entered tho room and said to the com pany : " What do you think I have just bought ?" to which the general response was: ' All Josephns for tenpence." It turned out that he had just fer reted it out from a second-hand book stall. "When questioned about his mysterious powers Mr. Gregory always became very 6erions, and ga\o no information, but changed the subject as soon as possi ble. In consequence of all this, interest, curiosity, uneasiness and even alarm, were in varying degrees excited in the breasts of the several members of our AT /-.of rvf flm ln/liaa /I r? A ? iUVOl Ul IUV AUUJCO V.4 jv^iaitu that they wero daily expecting some lliing serious to happen. That those expectations were not altogether un fulfilled will now be made plain. Thero were two new arrivals on the day on .which onr story opens. Ooi company had hitherto been pleasant and self ct, but the lady and gentleman whe now came among us, and who were named Mr. and Mrs. Grice, were ex captions to this. Showily dressed, and lrrod in their conversation, they mad( great efforts to mix with case in our com pany, and for som; inscrutable reasor seemed to make special endeavors t< become intimate with our own party Mr. Grice attacking my nncle, and hi: wife devoting herself to us. Wo were at no pains to conceal ou aversion to their ill-mannered and offen sive intrusion, but they seemed deter mined to accept no rebuff. Lily sai< that we had met here the most, pleasan and the most unpleasant persons whor we had ever seen in our travels. Th | former class,I presume,mainly embraced r: Mr. Gregory. Ever since Mr. Smith's visit on the ; i previous day, my uncle had seemed to , j be unusually worried and anxious. 1 Something had happened at the office, it appeared, which caused him very great uneasiness, and he kept a constant watcli for the post. Lily aud I were troubled about it, but were hardly pre pared for his sudden announcement at . lunch tho next day, upon receiving a j letter from town, that we must pack up | at once and return by the first morning ! train. We had no objection to escape from the Griccs, but in spite of Mr. Gregory's : ill-repute for his mysterious arts, we j were very sorry to leave him, to say ' j nothing of the abrupt and unexpected termination of our holiday. i The Grices were sitting next to us when my nnclo made this announce ment, and I saw a peculiar look of sig nificance pass between them. Mr : Gregory was sitting at the other end of a long dining-table, and quite out of earshot, but he came up immediately after we rose from the table, and said: "A very sad thing, this sudden de- I i paihireof yours!" j "Mr. Gregory, I replied, " you are perhaps aware that yoa are under grave i suspicions of being in league with the j powers of darkness, and this is another ! proof? How could vou possibly : know ?'' " Oh, ill news travel fast,' ho said, i laughing. " But it is a very hot after i noon; what do you say to a little read | irig Lily here squeezed my arm vigorou3 ; ly, but I answered: "I fear my uncle will not let us go out of his sight. He , feels it his duty to keep special guard | over us while we are in such dangerous I company." "Never mind," ho said, " I will read 1 to him as well." We wero now in the corner of the i drawing-room, near a window looking | out on to a covered balcony which J overlooked the garden. My uncle came j up and returned Mr. Gregory's courteous ! greeting in a manner which was, I fear, not very gracious. " May I trouble you for the paper after yon, sir?" he said. " Certainly," was the answer. " But I may we not all enjoy it together? With i your permission I will read aloud to j the company." My uncle looked considerably aston j ished at this unusual proposal. Lily j j looked up with open eyes and cnrions i expression, this being net cxactly tho kind o reading she had intended. But the offer was seriously made and re peated, and my uncle, who dearly liked j j being read to, pave a dubious consent. J Miss Lily, with lilial affection, made i j him particularly comfortable m an arm chair, and Mr. Gregory commenced ' reading a long, prosy article on French j politics. He read with anything but I bis usual spirit, and in a soft, low, 1 monotonous voice. The consequence 1 was?as had possibly been not wholly un ! forseen?that my uncle was soon enjoy j ing his accustomed afternoon siesta, j The reading, having become gradually 1 blower and softei\ now ceased, and the 1 j reader, looking np, suggested by a . slight gesture an adjournment to the garden. Lily and I tried to smother our J j laughter and look shocked, but we i | adopted the suggestion. A book of J | pcctry was soon produced, and I found I that there is a difference between hear ing French politics read in a stuffy j j drawing-room to a middle-aged gentle- i | man, and hearing "Enoch Arden" read ; in a cool, shady alcove, to a pretty, j dark-eyed, lovable maiden, with tender ; bosom heaving in sympathy with poor | Enoch's sorrows, especially when the | I reader is a handsome young bachelor, j j with an exquisitely modulated 1 oice, j I able to do full justice to the harmonious j numbers of the laureate. At the end of half an hour I was : startled by an exclamation from Lily, j Looking up, I saw in the garden below, j sitting on a seat under the trees with j their faces toward us, our dear friends, ! Mr. and Mrs. Grice. The gentleman was keeping up, ap- j parently, a desultory conversation with | his wife. They waved their hands on j catching our eye, and beckoned to us to j come and join them, which we did not i do. Mr. Gregory, instead of going on with j his reading, continued to regard them I intently, and asked us whether we knew j them. We said, "No." "But they 6eem to know you," he ; said. ^ "We explailred how they had favored | us with their attentions. To our dis- j appointment ho could not be induced 1 to go on with his reading, but he con- i tinned to stare at the couple before us; j and when at last they strolled off in dif- i ferent directions he said that he must I apologizo for having an engagement, | land he left us abruptly. "A strange young raan, indeed!" wo thought, and j we were still more surprised when in ! at hour he returned and asked my uncle ; to be allowed a short private conver.sa- j tion with him. My uncle seemed j startled at this request (and so, by the j way, did Lily), but after a short pause | he led the way into an adjoining apart- I ment. j i The conversation which ensued, as [ ! we subsequently learned, was as follows: ! "I am about, sir," said Mr. Gregory, J "to refer to your private affairs to an : extent which will surprise you, but I : hope to be able to render you a service i which will be an ample excuse for mv j intrusion. You are, I believe, returning j to town to-morrow ? " "Yes." "The cause of your return is, I be- ' lieve, connected with tbe forgery of a j certain check in your name." "Sir, how can you possibly know ' that?" " That check was brought to you for ! your inspection three days ago by one ' of tbe clerks from the bank, a Mr. J Smith, and it is now in your posses I sion." Myuncle was speechless. " Hear me farther. The accuracy of j my statements hitherto may claim ; credence lor what 1 am about to allirm. Unless I am greatly mistaken, thera are now in tbis establishment two per sons who have been employed 10 re gain possession at all costs of that I torged paper. They suspect that you j have it, and already your room and your daughter and niece's room have I been searched and it only remains te | search jour person." My uncle turned pale. " It is known that you are leaving to morrow morning, and the attempt will be made between now and thon. Will you allow me to offer you my advice?" I will not attempt to describe my re- j spected unclt's condition of body and i mind at this part of the interview, suf- j lice it to say that the proffered advice i was ultimafely adopted. On that evening my uncle declined to accompany us when, an hour after din 1 nei, the house emptied on to the prome nade. Mr. Gregory was also musing, and had not appeared at dinner. The Rev, Mr. Briggs took us under his care. My uncle was already nodding in his 1 chair as we went out. Twenty minutes afterward two of the company sofoly re entered the room. This I had from an eye-witness. Their names were Mr. and Mrs. Grice. Mrs. Grice stood at the door, and her husband advanced gently across the floor to where my uncle lay > back in his chair, snoring audibly, his ' handkerchief over his head, his coat I thrown open, and a pocketbook just > showing in his breast pocket. s Mr. Grice crept up to him, abstracted the book with a practiced haud, put it I into his own pocket, and turned to go. ! Now, as he recrossed the room he had to miRH before a larere lounge. with lone i hangings in front, and he was, perhaps, > somewhat surprised to find his ankles ; seized in the firm grip of a pair of hands 3 thrust out suddenly from under the lounge. As he fell, his amiable partner r turned round?into the arms of a detec - tive officer. At the same moment Mr. Gregory entered through the window 3 from the balcony. t "This is your pocketbook, sir," said Q one of the detectives. e "Thank you," said my uncle. "It bas nothing in it, but I am glad to liav< it back again." Mr. and Mrs. Grice were removed a once to another public establishment ir the neighborhood, where the company was very select, the hours very regular and the maintenance very cheap?a style of establishment which it was subse quently proved they had frequented in more than one part of the country. Amid considerable excitement we promenaded late that night. My unclt suid: " You have rendered me a service, sir, which lays me under the deepest obligation to you. I have no doubt that the original delinquents, of whom these creatures are only the tools, will be brought to justice. Finding that we are on their track, they have made this effort to destroy the proof of their guilt, and preveut us from submitting it to experts. Thanks to you, they have failed. I can only say how welcome will be any opportunity of making any returns to you, however slight." " I shall .certainly take you at yonr word, sir," was the answer. " And now, Mr. Gregory,continued mv nncle. " will vou pardon our curi osityif we beg you to tell us the means | by which you were able to divine the intentions of our departed friends V" " Oh, Mr. Gregory," cried Lily, "you must tell us. We are on thorns to know, and will do anything in the world you like to mention if you will tell us." " On those terms I consent," said he, with a curious look at Lily, which made her suddenly blush very much, a3 I could see even in the moonlight. " You may have.noticed," began Mr. Gregory, "that I am somewhat deaf, aLd I have been much more so. In con sequence of this I have acquired the art, which I believe almost any one can acquire, of reading the movements of the lips in the same,way that the deaf and dumb are taught to do, so that I can always understand what people say if they are only in seeing distance; and my seeing is very acute. I need hardly say that I avoid over-seeing conversa tion, if you will allow the expression, as much as I would over-hearing it; but I frequently see people speak a few words on accidentally glancing at them. I think that what has puzzled you will now bo plain. Perhaps I ought to con fess that I have yielded a little to the temptation of mystifying the company during the last week, especially in the case of Mr. Briggs, who has, like many pecple who have lived a good deal alone, a habit of talking to himself as he goes along, which he is scarcely aware of. This afternoon, however, I watched the Grices in good earnest. I was very much astonished at what I saw. Your sudden departure had dis 1 iV ..1 1 n arrangeu tuuir piiius, ?uu uuu u full discussion of pas; and future op erations. It was not at all a bad idea to hold their deliberations before your very eyes, so as to keep up their watch on your movements and disarm -sus picion, but thcv had taken no precau tions against being overseen. The rest you know." "But how about the purchase of the hairwash, that sad proof of occult art?' I said. "Oh, that bad nothing to do with it. I was in the shop being shaved and I saw the transaction in a looking-glass." Later still, when my uncle had gone in, I heard him quietly say: "So you wiil do whatever 1" like to mention?" But these words were not addressed to mo and I judged it best to fall into the rear, and having no gifts of clairvoy ancc mj self I cannot tell you the rest of the conversation. I can only add that our return was postponed, and that shortly after these events Mr. Gregory again requested a private conversation with my uucle; and that ho had again some revelations to make concerning a conspiracy of two, male and female, in this case also; and that shortly after the first pair of conspirators had been "sen tenced for life" by one of her majesty's judges, a similar sentence was pro nounced upon the other pair by the Rev, Mr. Briggs. A Lesson iu Phrenology. Round-eyed persons seo much, live much in the senses, but think less. Narrow-eyed persons, on the other hand, see less, but think more and feel more intensely. It will be observed that the e.ves of children are open and round. Their whole life is to receive impressions. It is only when childhood is maturing toward man or womanhood that thought comes, if it comes at all. But what is it that most lends to reflec tion? Experience. Our errors, our shortcomings, our failures, these teach us to think before we act, to consider each step, to weigh e\ery motive. When, therefore, the upper eyelid?for it is that which has tho greatest amount ci mobility?droops over the eye, it indi cates not merely reflection, but some thing painful to reflect about. Hence the length or drooping of tho upper eyelid betokens confession and peni tence. The drooping of the half of ih? eyelid from the outer angle to the center indicates the disposition to confess one's faults to parents or seuiors, to a " father confessor," or to the Supreme |Being. The drooping of the half of the eyelid from the inner angle to the center betokens a dispo sition to repent, and to " do works meet for repentance." Closely allied to these signs are those of prayerfulness and humility. The former is indicated by the muscle which turns the eye directly downward, as represented in the pic tures of Madonna. Prayerfulness is usually large in connection with the sign of confession, and humility in con nection with that of penitence; the reason of which is that between the faculties of penitence and humility there is the fame close connection as between con fession and prayer. One whochas more prayer than humility has the eye turned habitually somewhat upward, so that the upper part of the iris is a little cov ered by the upper eyelid, and so as to leave a slight space between the iris and the lower lid. The reverse is true of one who has more humility than prayer. The faculty of truth?thai; jV tho love of it?is indicated by the muscle which surrounds the eye, cau-ing folds and wrinkles. Justice is indicated by the muscle which causes perpendicular wrinkie3 between tho eyebrows. Full ness an 1 wrinkles under the eye, for which somo persons are remarkable, indicate the love of mathematical accu racy; and wrinkles curving upward from the outer angle of the eye and eyebrow indicate probity and personal truthfulness. There are three degrees of the faculty of justice. The first is a kind of exactness or strict honesty in small money matters, which some peo ple would call closeness, and is indi cated by a single perpendicular wrinkle j or lino between the eyebrowfs. The second is the disposition to require justice in others, and i3 indicated by two perpendicular lines 01 wrinkles, one on each side o! th center?a very common s:gn. The third is conscientiousness, or ihe dis ! position to apply the rule of justice tr ! nnn'u c.l f un/l ic 1 fl (HfO* till bv HirilA (VI more wrinkles or lines, especially no ticeable extending above the eyebrow when the muscle is in action. Thelov( of command is indicated by one oi moro short transverse wrinkles across the root of the nose, exactly betweer the. eyes. It may be seen in great mili tary commanders, in masters and teach ers, and in those generally who arefonc of exercising authority. In those wh< are wanting in the power to command and have no desire for responsibility this sign is also absent. The faculty o command frequently acts with that par of justice which reprimands, or require others to do "ight, and both togethe prodnce that frowning and lowerinj brow which is so terrible to evil-doers or to those who love to be approve) rather than c ademned.?Phrenologies Magazine. The Boston Bulletin says: " Tb American Angler is a new pap -r whic w? hope will not live by hook an lyinV We have no doubt it will pul lish de-baits, and worm its way int piscatorial circles. TAIMAGE ON NEWSPAPERS. The Brooklyn I'rrnchrr'* View* on Join * nnlisin? Tho Sort* of Evcn Tiint u Xinv* 7 impri* Una?Tho UlcMnttm* of n Fix , | 1'rt'Ma. J On a recent Sunday tlio Rev. T. De ' | Witt Talmago preached in the Brooklyi 1 Tabernacle on the influence of news papers, taking two texts for his sermon ! One was, "And the wheels wore full o ! eyes." lie said: "What but the news paper printing presses have all tliei: ' | wheels full of eyes ? All other wheel: : I are blind. The manufacturer's wliee ' sometimes rolls over tho operative 1 fatigued in every nerve and muscle ant I bono, and sees nothing. But the news I paper press has sharp eyes, keen eyes, II eyes that look up and down, far-sighted '! and near-sighted, that tako in the ncxl i street and tho next hemisphere; eyeso] 1' criticism, eyes of investigation, oyes 1 i that sparkle with health, eyes glaring ] with indignation, eyes tender and lov' j ing, eyes frowning and suspicions, eye? of hope, bine eyes, black eyes, 'sore eyes, historical oven, literary eyes, ecclesiastical eyes, eyes of till sorts." Dcctor Talmage's second text was, i "For all the Athenians and stranger? I which were there spent their time ir nothiug else but either to tell or hear some new thing." Doctor Talmago said: "That text gives tlio cry of the : world for a newspaper. In proportion i as men become wise they become in quisitive; not about small things, but I about greater things. The great ques j tion thunders, 'What is the news? ! There is a newspaper in Pekin, China, | that has been published every week for | a thousand years, printed 011 silk. Rome answered the question with the Acta Dhtrna. France answered it when htr physicians wrote out the news for patients. England answered it by pub j lishing an account of the Spanish Ar mada, and its newspaper press went on I increasing until the bafctlo of Waterloo, which decided the destinies of nations ; of Europe, was chronicled in a de scription of a third of a column! America answered the question when Benjamin Harris published the first weekly newspaper, entitled Public Oc currences, in Boston, in 1690. Tho first Amei-ican daily newspaper was pub lished in Philadelphia, in 1784, entitled the American Daily Advertiser I will givo you the genealogical tree of tho newspaper. The Adam was the circular; the circu lar begat tho pamphlet; the pamr-hlet begat the quarterly; the quarterly be gat the monthly; the monthly begat tho I semi-monthly; the semi-monthly begat ' the weekly; the weekly begat tho S semi-weekly; the semi-weekly begat tho j daily, Alas, through what a struggio i it came to its present development! | A3 soon as it began to demonstrate its | power, supersrition and tyranny shackled it. Thero is nothing that i despotism so much fears as the print I ing press. It lias too many eyes. Russia, which, considering all tho cir cumstances, is the meanest- and most cruel despotism on earth to-day, keeps tho printing press und.;r severe espionage. A great writer in the south oC Europe declared that tho king of Naples had made it unsafe for him to | write on any subject but natural his j torv. Austria could not bear Kossuth's journalist it*, pen plied for the redemp. lion of Hungary. Napoleon J., want j ing to keep his iron heel on the nock of | nations, said that a newspaper was a | regent of kings, and that the only safe I place to keep an editor in was a prison, j " But tho great battles of freedom of the press were fought in tho court rooms of England and the United States. One was svhni Erskine made his great speech on behalf of tho tree dom to publish Paine'* ' Rights of Man' in England- These battles were the Marathon and Thermopylae of the fight which determined that tho printing was not to be given over to handcuffs and hobbles of literary and political despot ism. Thomas Jefferson said : ' If I. had to choose between a government with out newspapers and newspapers with out government, I would employ the latter.' "Stung by some fabrication in print, wo talk of the unbridled press. Oui new book is ground up by unjust criti ! cism, and we talk of the unfair press, ' Through some indistinctness of our ut | terance we aro reported as saying just the opposite of what we Aid say, and wc talk of the blundering press; We take up a newspaper with a social slander 01 a case of divorce, and we talk of the filthy and scurrilous press. But this morning I address you 011 a subject vox: havo never heard presented?the im measurable, everlasting blessing of a good newspaper. Thank God that theii wheels are full of eyes. I Rive you this overwhelming statistic : that in year 1880 the number of copies o! literary and political newspaper! published in this country was 1,500, 0(H),000! What church, what re fovincr, what Christian maD can disre gaui these things? 1 tell you, mj rieuf\?, that a good newspaper is th( grandest blessing that God has given tc j the people of this century?tbo graudesl I temporal blessing. The theory is abroad J that anybody can make a newspnpei I with the aid of a capitalist. Tho fact i: ; that fortunes are swallowed up everi year in the vain effort to establish news papers. Wo have 7,000 dailies ant weeklies iu the United Stctes and Caua 1 'las, and only thirty-six arelialfacentur] old. The average life of a newspaper ii five years. Mo?t of them die of choleri infantum. It is high timo that it wai understood that the most succcsstu way to sink a fortune and keep it sunk is | to start a newspaper, a man wiuj ai I idea starts llio Universal Gazette or Mil lennium Advocate. Finally the monej I is all spent, and the subscribers womlej why their papers do not come. Lot m< tell you that if you have an idea, eithei moral, social, political or religions, yoi had better charge on the world througl i the columns already established. If yoi I can't climb your own back yard fence I don't try the Matter horn. If you can'* sail a sloop, don't try to navigate tin Great Eastern. To publish a newspapei requires the skill, precision, vigilance Btrategy and boldness of a commander in-chief. To edit a newspaper one needs to be a statesman, a geographer, a statis tician and so f<tr as all acquisitions ar< j concerned, encycloi cedic! If you hav< | a notion to start and publish a newspa I per, take it for granted that jou arc ; threatened with softening of the brain ! Take your pocketbook und throw it intc | your wife's lap. Rush up to Blooming ; dale asylum and surrender yourself be I fore yoa do something desperate. | "Our newspapers are repositories ol ! knowledge and are constantly lifting the people into tie sunlight. News paper knowledge makesup *he structun of tho world's heart and brain, an< decides the fate of churches and o nations. Adams, Jefferson, Franklin Clinton, all had their hands on tin printing press. Mcst of the good book: ; of the day have come out in periodicals . Macauiay's essays, Carlvle's essays ; Ruskin'e, Tnlfourd's, and others hav< ' ,'ir-it appeared in periodicals. If on< should sec in a life nothing in tho wa; [ of literature but the Bible, Shake fcnntivrt n if!irtnnrv. firiil n trood TlfiWS paper, be would be fitted for all th< duties of this life ami for the oponinj of the next. A good newspaper is i mirror of life as it is. Complaints ar< made because tlio evil is reported u well as the good. But a newspape that merelv presents the fair and bean ' tiful side of society is a misrepresent tion. If children come into the world' 3 active life and lind it different fror ' what they had believed, they will b ' ncompetent for the htrugglo. Com ; plaint is sometimes made that siu i set up in great primer type and right 8 eousness in nonpareil. Sin is loatli r some; make it so. Virtue is beautiful j* make it so. A great improvemen in newspapers would be to dro their impersonality. It would ad t! potency to articles to see article signed. It teems to me that no honoi able man would wrife an article that h e would bo ashamed to put his name t< b What is a private citizen to do when d misrepresentation is multiplied 20,00 > or 50,000 times? A wrong done a man c character in a newspaper is more viri lent, than one done in private life. 1 seems to me that it 'would bo a great ; advantage to the literature of this conn- j try if men conld get tbe credit for the * good they write, imd bo held responsi-1 u ble for the evil they vrite. Another! improvement would bo a university education for journalists, as for the a other professions. Nc- profession re- j quires more culture and education than j that of journalism. f..'here must be j f editorial professorates in our colleges, j " The newspapers ser re an important | r function as the chronic/era of passing ; 3 events. Tbey describe for the benefit' j of future historians nil nvents?ecclesi-j ( 1 astical, literary, social, political, inter- j j national, hemispherical. They are the j , . reservoirs of history. They arc also a j blessing in their evangeli sing influences, i. ! rri.? fit..:.*:? ,?:ii *1,? i [ iiiu v^xijiauuju uunapiiMJi yyjji uc mu ; right wing of the apocalyptic angel. I The cylinders of the Christian printing , ' press will* be the front wheels of the , | Lord's chariot. The music that it, ! makes I mark not in diminuendo, but ] . | in crescendo 1" Lifft in New York City. A writer who signs him'elf "A Non-' \ ! Resident American," pays in the Content- j - . pornry Review: New York is no longer i J ( the city that it was Dfty years ago. It i ,! has grown so rapidly in extent, in pop- ! < (j nlation and in wealth that all the con- < | ditions of life arc changed. I visit the < palatial residences of former days, and ? | I find myself in the midst of towering : t . I warehouse?, or in the midst of a Ger- \ 1 ' man city, or surrounded by equalid j 1 . tenement-houses, swarming with Irish. | i Another turn, and I am in a Chinese j f , quarter. If I would rind the lashion J and wealth of the city, I must go far | : out among the old market gardens and 1 the more distant pastures, which are cov- 1 , eved now with coi-tly dweliing-housts, 1 : Then ?20,000 was i great fortune; now, 1 ' | New York boastE of a citizen who , is worth ?20,000,000. There are t ; others who are almo3t as rich. They i , are railway kings, or men who have t ' i grown rich by the sudden and enormous ! < J j rise in the value of real estate ; and 11 I socialism, imported from Europe hav- j i : | ing no kings here to attack, hs.s fouud I a namo for these men, and threatens i them as "monopolists." The palaces j t 11 of the Fifth avenue laugh at the faiirt i echoes which reach them from the halls c near the Boweryv where social clubs t discuss tha rights of labor, and openly t advocate ;he assassination of iaonopo- i lists; but no one can seriously study i life in New York without finding him- t self confionted, first of all, with this | problem of the relations of wealth and ( i poverty. New York has not grown 1 rich f-o much through the skill and ^ t energy of her citizens as through ^ j the rapid growth of the coun- j try, with which she has had \ but little to do, except in the way of t developing her natural advantages by s building railways and canals. Most of i i her rich men owe their wealth to the rise in the value of real estate or to j ( fortunate speculation in stocks. It has j , not beeo a slow growth. It has come ! j suddenly. The poorest man in Now j j York, who can read a penny paper, is 1 | familiar with the slang of Wall street, j | Ho knows that he is cutting stone or i < |! carrying mortar for a palace which is j 11 building for a man who has "captured ; | a railroad," or " watered stock," or j "made a corner." lie does not need to j go far to be told that this does not mean ; money earned, but money stolen from i i the laboring classes. He believes it. , | And even this does not touch him so directly as the fact that ho pays an exorbitant rent to another monopolist , for h:s filthy rooms in a tenement-house. j If this were all of New York society, j i | this article would never have been writ- I ' ten. There are rich men whom wealth | lias not corruptocl, and poor men wnom , poverty Las not embittered. Tliid does i i not need to be said. It limy bo paid of i . ( every city. But there are probably fetv j cities in tho world where a choicer so-! ' ciety can bo found than in New York, | and theie are few, if any, where there ' is more earnest, active Christian life. Wo iind it among the rich and the poor. , It is colored somewhat by the dominant j spirit of the city, but it is genuine. It! ] is struggling manfully to redeem the . city from crime, corruption, tilth, ig- j " vance, irreligion and degradation of every kind; and if tho eity is saved [ frcm outbreaks of the worst forms of . communism, it wi.il bo by its means. ^ But I am dwelling too long upon ; | generalities. Let us come down to .! p racticai every-day life. The New Yorker , , is always in a hurry. Ho is an early riser. ! and generally eats a hearty breakfast by t 8 o'clock. If he is a religious man he _ i has had family prayers before breakfast, i as this is tho only time of which he ' . could be sure before midnight. If h? j does not read tho morning paper at , i breakfast, he reads it on the way to his ! ollico. He is almost certain to have 5 : callers on business beforo he can leave his house; and if he is known to bo a j benevolent man, he has a score of beg- j ging letters by the morniup: delivery. He ; r gets away as soon as possible, and is not j seen ?gain until evening, when he comes . in just in time to dress for dinner. j! His household affairs aro managed | ^' by his wife. Ho is liable to have bnsi r ness calls before ho has finished his I 3 dinner. If he goes to his club, ho i r talks business there. Ho hus com mittee meetings to attend. At 9 or 10 | j o'clock ho may go with his wife to a ! party: or he may get away a little earlier \ to the theater. If he has an evening ' at home, it is because he has a dinner j party for evening entertainment him- i self. He keeps late hours. If an ; active religious man, Sunday is almostj ; as busy a day as any other. If not, it i is divided betwee.n business and amuse- j rnent. In May his family goes into the ; country, or to some watering-place, to j . remain until October, but the chance j is that he gets but littlo rest. When i , rest becomes absolutely essential he j escapes to Europe. What the ladies do, except to make | themselves agreeable; when they can be | found, I cannot say from observation. J but they seem to be as overworked as % tliemen. Some of them certainly specn p late in stocks. Thoy have their clubs ami societies, literary ana otherwise. | ' Many of tbe chariiios and religious so- ! . eieties of the cily ;ho largely in their I ] hands. Domestic and social affairs are , iic rnlly loft to their management, if i [ mos|| of the wealthy aro devoted to! ^ I fashion, many are devoted to better j " J things?to self-culture, religion ar.d i benevolence. Perhaps all this is enough j j to account for the fact that thero seems _ to be so little of quiet and reposo in " New York li? j Tlie (.'ymbuloin. f Sapper being over we went out upon ' the terrace, on which by this time ibe moon was shedding her silver light, 3 glistening on the vino leaves, and cast 1 ! ing sharp, black shadows on the white f i washed walls. Most of the guests dis-1 > persed themselves to continue their 31 dessert in the vineyard, but I remained 3 beside the gypsies, attracted by the curious shape of one of tho instruments ? on which they played, Ono of tho men 2 was seated beforo an empty barrel, in 3 lien, I supposed, of a table, and on it f he had placed a Hat wooden instrument, something like a shallow box, almost a yard m width, but rather less in length. 0 1 supposed it to be a stringed iusiru 5 merit, until, coming nearer, i cuscov 11! erod that what I liad taken 13 for strings were long Hut s I strips of glass, arranged in different r ! lengths. In each hand ho held littie * sticks, mado something liko the ham mers in the interior of a piano, and with these he struck the glass keys. Yet to say he struck the kovs gives an e imperfect impression, for the hammers - only trembled and quivered and danced s , iu his fingers liko the drops of a foun - tain falliDg into the basin below. One note was never long drawn out vibrated in never-ending repetition, patticularly when the air played was slow and mel ancholy. This instrument is the cvui balom; and in every Hungarian melody there aro notes which are only produci ble in perfection <Tu just this instru ment, although firut rate performers can execute a feeble imitation of iip trembling tones upon the piano.?Tin Argosy. The eyes of theuaster will do more [t work than both his hands. FOllTHE LADIES. KnhUIoH'ft LatcBt Freultn. A Now York correspondent writes: Daintj little nail cases have become frtiiLiio^ablc as presents, and are even seen among wedding gifts, when the in struments are mounted in gold and silver. One given last week was made to order in Paris, and included a button hook and glove-Uuttoner. Like all the other pieces, the handles were of ivory, studded with small torquoise, and the Russian leather case was lined with torquiie blue satin. Nowadays, if you go to call on a young lady early in the morning, ten to one . you find her lolling back in an easy- ! cnair, witu ner rosy finger tips immersed . in a linger bowl of scented water (the i first step in the process), or elso cha mois polisher in hand, carefully and ( laboriously rubbing her nails with a fine j pink powder that eventually makes ( them sliine like diamonds. " ( The other day, having a desire to f (vrite tip the process, I visited the estab lishment of a Mrs. P., and it was there j t was impressed with the growth of the j aew fashion, being asked to make an ( lppointment tbree dajs later, owing to | ilie rusih of customers. I noticed that j jnly ladies were present, but when I | jommented on it, Mrs. P. showed me a j jtnall office, entered from the back of . ;he house, where were seated some gen- ] ;lemen, one a congressman, all looking j rather shamefaced at being there. "They have not tha courage to be ] seen entering," said the manicure; "so j [ had to arrange a sort of btck door. A j jrtat many gentlemen come here, nota- j jly ministers and actors, as in their ? respective professions they are given to t ising tbeir hands freely, and like to ( jave them as effective as possible. ^ " Then fashionable young men have f :aken up the idea, and many of them ( ire regular customers, and pay so much f i, month to have their nails taken care r :>f. My i wo most fashionable patrons [ ire a Brooklyn preacher and a Wash- E ngton politician and orator." ^ "And how about the ladies?" f "Oh, you can see for yourself," and f he manicure took down a blank book j n which were inscribed the autographs ^ )f her lady patrons. Among them were c ,ho names of several well-known ac- t ;resses of stock companies and of an American prima donna. Amnsing to j G a1nf*3 flm liaf. r\f matynna xvaa Irmnrnr giubV) buu j. a > j 'j w* n?g avu^va j :han that of young ladies. But to the point. When my tnrn s ame I sat in a row with 11 vo other t adies, in the easiest of armchairs and } sith damask napkins in our laps. Fin- \ jer bowls of stained glass on pl-ite? of painted French chin a, tilled with tepid Q yater perfumed and containing au acid t ;o soften the skin, were given us, and a ?olemnly we sat and soaked our fingers j :or fifteen minutes. r At the end cf that time an "opera- t ;or" on a low stool seated herself be- f ore me, dried one hand, posed it on a \ nnk satin cushion, and with a fine steel <] nstrument quickly scraped away all c ;he Boft skin around the nail, then nhe x tiled it into a point at the top and slipped the sides with sharp scissors, then she nibbed a red salve over it, wiped it off .-md proceeded to polish with thn diamond powder, using the palm of her hand until the nail fairly glittered, and finally wnm water, castile soap and a soft brush left it clean, smooth and shining. The process was repeated on every finper, and in half an hour for the sum of 81.50 was finished, and the result was ten pink aud brilliant weapons of defense, so sharp and pointed as to sug gest tbo advantages of peace. The fusliion of wearing these long and pointed nails has become so exagger- j ated, tlut it necessitates loDg-fingered gloves and extreme care to prevent their breaking off. Fnshlon Note*. Basques are worn as much as ever. The poke grows in fashionable favor. The pouf in back draperies is not large. Ridged plush is at a ujremium in mil linery. Skirt draperies are more elaborate than ever. Deep, dark red is a fine color for plush trimmings. Paniers are not bouffant, but cling close to the hips. Fnrs will bo much uted this winter, whether the weather is very cold or Dot. Two or more materials combined to form one costume is as fashionable as ever. Loner visites, dolman cloths and cir cles will all he worn for midwinter 1 wraps. Liglit-colored ulster3 of heavy cloth, trimmed with undyed sealskin, are very ' fashionable. One of the most elfective stripes in new colors is of orange with hair lines of gold and edged with black. Bro.td Byron collars, trimmed with Tnnis lace laid on over the linen to , look like, embroidery, are worn. All sorts of felt, plash and furry beaver hats and bonnets will be worn, but pokes are the first favorites. Jackets are giving place to long dol mans, French pelisses, circle and Pom padour or Mother Hubbard cloaks. Moiro and surah are frequently com bined in the name suit with one or more materials, i.nd trimmings besides. Pendaut pockets of white satin and moire trim mad with Spaiiish lace make pretty i-dduions to evening demi toilets. Ombre watered silks come in two or three contrasting colors, such as dull red, or seal brown, with blue and olive; pale pink or brown with red and gray. Lilies of the valley and white roses are much worn by brides; lilacs are also mingled wit.h orange blossoms in the floral garniture of a bridal costume. Wide flounces of Spauish lace, ar ranged iu four deep festoons near the bottom of the garment, are used as an exceedingly stvlish trimming for black plusb. cloaks. Tinsel plush holds a prominent posi tion in milii cry ornamentation and this stvlo has combined with it rich chenille cordings, which give a gay and pleas ing expression to the chapeau designed for ceiemouioiis occasions. The .Mysterious. He is a man with a light beaver over- , coat on. He drives a white horse and n top busigy, and all of a sudden ht> stops in the middle of the street and looks fixedly at his horse. In two , uiiuutes fifty ptople line the curbstone. ( " What's the matter?" ( "Balky." ; A man steps out to seize the bridle , and start the horse, but the driver , shakes his head and motions him away. , " I'll bet he's an ugly brute." , " Of courso he is. Look at that ( wicked eye of his!" The crowd has now increased by . tifty, and several vehicles have stopped. " Anybody hurt ?" ".No; bulky liorse." " Why doesn't some one whisper in his ear?" Four men stepped ont to give ad vice, but tliey are hastily motioned back, and a livery stable man in the crowd observes: " If that horse doesn't kill two or three men here I shall be much mis taken." Three minutes more and the crowd numbers 200. Tho man with the gray horse looks up aud down the street, braces his feet, takes a firm grip on the lines, and softly says : " Gome, Peter." Aud Peter drojis his head, danglos his ears and moves off as slowly and softly as a river of grease. " Wl;at was it?" calls a man who has vnn four blocks and is pulling like a whale. But there is no oue to answer him. The crowd has dissolved like a handful of sugar in a barrel of water. It is very mysterious, and the crowd doesn't orijoy the climax at all.?Detroit Free Press. A Curious Machiue. Tbere are but four tishiDg hoot manu factorieH in the United States, and o these three are located in Brooklyn the fourth being jn New Haven, Conn In the largest of the Brooklyn estab lishments can be seen one of the moal ingenious and complicated machines ir existence, which performs about tec different operations, turning out com plete fish-hooks from plain cast-steei wire in larger quantities daily that twenty skillful workmen could make by hand. There are only two machine.5 oi the kind in the world, and both are owned, by the house in question, foi which the machine was devised by the inventor, Dr. Crosby, now deceased. The firm paid a very large sum for the invention and for the patent rights, which it now holds exclusively. Until recently this machine was op 3rated privately, and no one was al lowed to see it work. The machinu consists of two distinct divisions, each operated independently of the other by separate gear, yet which must work to gether in perfect harmony. The wire s uncoiled from a large wheel, .and at ;he same time stiaightened by a series >f revolving rollers, after passing ;hrough which it is seized for a second jy a clutch which holds it in position to De cut off by another knife working at right angles to the others. This slows up with a clean cut a small ;pur of metal near the end, which is to 'orm the beard or barb of the hook. \s yet the point remains perfectly iiunt and square, but passing on, it is oughly pointed by a sort of punch nto the lorm of a wedge. At this stage t reaches the other machine, which is it right angles with the first, and is Ircpped into a groove upon an endless ihain, which passes In front of the re volving files by which tho hook is to be inished. At the same time the upper ?nd of the wire is seized by an invisible inger and bent into a ring with the apidity of thought. It istht n brought u contact with tho six files, one after mother. These files are in the form of vheels, each operated by a separate belt rom the shaft, and each is of a dif erent degri* of fineness, graduated rom the rough burr which takes off the yedge, to the little polishing wheel soming last and leaving the point of he hook almost perfe3tly round. tVhen the hook, finished, but .''till itraight, leaves the last file, a finger jokes it down npon a ratchet, which its exactly into the barb of the hook md forces it to bend around a projec ion on a fly-wheel, which gives the look its proper shape and throws it nto a receptacle below. By this machine about fifty-fivohooks i minute are turned out, all ready to be empered nnd blued or japanned, or ibout 33,000 in a day of fen hours. If t were aliowed to run continually, nore hooks would be turned out ban would supply the whole market or a year to come, and more tban could ie conveniently finished and packed. Che production could be increased to >ver sixty a minute, but so hi?h a tun ling rate damages the files and tho fin sh of the hooks is not as good. The vasta in defective hooks is only about five per cent. Every hook, before being tempt-red, is examined singly, and il imperfect is rejected. Only tho l^rgt hooks, and those for which there if most demand, are mado by the machine, which Cin be adjusted so as to makt three different sizes. There is mosl lemand for large trawl hooki for coci fishing, which are sold to fishermen bj the barrel, as a good-sized trawl can ;ains thousands of hooks. Feasting in Fiji. The taro is of a bluish-gray color, anc both in appearance and consistency re jembles motilod soap. As its name sug ?ests (Arum esculsntum) its leaves are like those of our own arum greatly magnified, while those of the yam art like u very rich convolvulus, as is, also, its habit of growth. A great many vari eties are cultivated, including one th? root of which is throughout of a vivid mauve. The sweet potato is also in common usa, and bread-fruit and ba nanas are abundant. Tho favorite method of preparing the latter is tc wrap them up in a large leaf and bury them till they ferment. The stench when the leaf is dug up is simply in Lolnrahlfl tn the unedncated nose of the foreigner, but the Fijian inhales it witb ielight, therein 6centing the vnndrai (bread) and puddings in which his soul delightB. These puddings arc sometimes made on a gigantic scale on the occasion of any greai feathering of the tribts. We were void of one that measured twenty feet in cir cumference, and on the same occasion there was a dish of green leaves pre pared ten feetlongby five wide, whereor were piled turtles and pigs, roastcc whole; also a wall of cooked fish five feet high and twenty feet long. Cer tainly the masses of food accumulat.ec on these great days beat everything have heard of ancient Scottish funeral feasts. Mr. Calvert describes one festi val at which he was present where then were fifteen tons of sweet pudding seventy turtles, lifty tons of cookec yams and taro '(besides two hundrec tons which were judiciously reservod) and as much yangona-root as would hav< filled five carts. Tho mode of laying the table on these occasions i; peculiar. All food is arranged ii heaps; a layer of cocoanut as foun datlon, then baked yams and taro next the gigantic puddings on greei banana leaves, the whole surroundec by pigs and turtles. These are roastei whole in huge ovens, or rather pits ii the ground, perhaps ten feet deep anc twenty in diameter, which are firs UnfiH with firownnd. on which is laid f laycr of stones. When these are heatei the animals to be roasted are laid 01 them, with several hot stoues inside t< secure cooking throughout; then comes a covering of leaves and earth, and the bakiug process completes itself. Whet all is ready certaiu men are told oil, ho carefully apportion this mas> ol food among the representatives of the various tribes present, tbe.se sub divid ing among themselves, and great is the need for punctilious observance of ah ceremonies and points of etiquette, as the smallest breach thereof would in evitably be nored, and involve certair revenge?or rather would have done St before the pec pie became Christians.? Good 1 Yards 1 lie Newspaper Man. The reason why so few men compara tively succeed in journalism, says an ex change, is because so few have for it the temperament and the constitution More than a moiety of mankind is slow, lacking in alacrity, and devoid of u sense of proportion The art of putting things rapidly in shape is not well un derstood by the public. 'Ihis is the reason why we have long-winded ser mons, lectures promotive of somnolency and magazine work which presupposes that longevity vouchsafed to ihe long abiding old gentlemen and ladies of the Old Testament. The public is not inconsiderate?it it only ignorant. The newspaper is ? mystery, of the manufacture of whicl it knows hardly anything. Those whe give to it the enthusiasm of youth, the vigor of manhood and whatever ol wisdom old ajjo may have brought witl it might liavu abiding fame iu this de partment of literature, or the other, ir the Held of science, in the arena o public affairs. Ta.sto or accident haj betrayed them into a humble sphere ol human exertion, nor do they quarre iwitk tliui'c f/M-fiina TTq vrlin #1 rift a int.* journalism rarely leaves it; he still plod* on in the daily toil which for him has i rare fascination. Often there is no fam< for him. The cleverest newspaper mei may be utterly unknown, and not for gotten only because ho has never beei remembered. His heart, however, ii 8tout, at any rate; and, come compe tonce, or the lack of it?come the high est or the humblest position, ho stil toils with irrepressible cheerfulness, ant hopes when all is over with him tlm his associates who survivo him will l>? reasonably sorry or solemn at his fa neral. gSsventy-flve.'million pounds of tei are annually imported into this country ODDITIES OF INTERMENTS. ( Some Curlou* Happenings nt Recently ltf ported Funeral*. ? A widower, bliaded with tears, fell info his wife's grave at Decatur. 111., t and on being pnlled out used su-h i language that the clergyman had to re i prove Lim. A coustable in Franklin county, Pa., I served a writ on a man as, with other i members of the family, the debtor was > standing by his father's open grave. i At Templeton, Mass., the Kev. Ger > ard Bushnel died on Sunday, February 27, aged seventy-five. His wife, two ! ."years his senior, had died on the preced ing day. They wertf buried in the > I same Krave on the following Tuesday, j In Paris the percentage of civil inter ments varie3 from 9.6 per cent, at Passy to 37.4 at Menilmontant. As the fu nerals become humbler the rate in i creases; rich people are buried from i the church, but of the funerals of tho ! ninth?the lowest class?more than one j half are conducted without religious I ceremonies. i New attractions are lent to one's fu I neral by a Baltimore undertaker who by ' tho use of chemical agents makes the j cheeks of the corpse to bloom like the : rose. The late Mr. John W. Dwinelle, of San Francisco, after prescribing all the arrangements for his faneral, wrote as follows: "I desire that there shall be | no adjournment of court. I desire that j the hour of the funeral shall be fixed ; at 1 o'clock p. m., so that the members of the bar who wish may attend it without interfering with the business of the court*. There is no good reason why the business of twelve courts of record should be interrupted for a day because a lawyer, even the most dis tinguished, happens to die." At the funeral of a resident of East Prussia recently, his wife caused the coffiutobe tilled with pipes, tobacco, cabbage, bread, salt and other articles of food and luxury. Mr "Barefoot" Walker, of Colum bus, Oa, so called because he had not worn shoes for forty years, had been laid in his coffin and was about to be lowered into the grave when, as the mourners were bending over him to ob tain a last view, the corpse arose and asked, " What they meant by such treat ment." Lord Truro is a believer in simplicity of funerals. His wife was buried in a plaiu and light wooden box, constructed so as not to urrest the progress of natu ral decay, in a grave dug by himself in the lawn fronting his residence, the spot having been selected by Lady Truro herself. Bishop Conigan, of New Jersey, will not allow services to be performed at funerals where there are more than + n-ul ctj tr/ia nreQ/vnf Parkin h! TVfun I iiing, in England, discourages lavish xpeouiture on such occasions, and is opposed to Sunday funerals. The Arch bishop of Canterbury has also come out in tavor of simplification of fuueials. | Mr. Wilmarth, of New York city, I when the Newfoundland dog that had i i saved his life died of old ag?, had it 11 butied eucastd in a costly coffin, bear ;; ing a silver plate, in his family lot in : 1 Greenwood. Ho ^reat a i-caudal was ! 1 raised that the trustees forbade the in f terment of dumb animals there there i : after. ' | At the funeral of Robert J. Smith, of t' Pittsburg, Pa., l.is divorced wife plead l; ed, with bitter tears, to be permitted to 1; look' upon the face of the corpse, but ! was repulsed by the family and clergy man. Sheriff J. R. S. Wilhelm, of Scott j county, Va., was, during the war, twice I | shot through the body. Each timo he . was given up for dead, and his friend, . i Major Wood, had his coffin made and j i placed in their tent. Whenever the r | sheriff is buried it will be in his third j1 coffin. (j The relatives of John Hammill, of 1! Sparta, N. J., not thinking that he had , been buried up to his merits, disin [' terred the body, placed it in a new cas L! ket and reburied it, leaving the . I rejected coffin beside the grave.?Ntw , i York World. ,1 . Fanning in Dakota. II "Yes, sir," resumed the Dakota man, i as the crowd of agriculturists seated 11 themselves around a little table?" jes, ; ^ sir, wo do things on rather a sizable ' scale. I've seen a man on one of our 11 bi^ farms start out in the spring and > plow a straight furrow until fall. Then ' ! he turned routd and harvested back.". > j " Carry his grub with him ?" asked a L Brooklyn farmer, who raises cabbages j on the outskirts. i j " No, sir. They follow him up with | a steam hotel, and have relays of men 11 to cfcauge plows for him. "We have 11 some big farms up there, gentlemen. A friend of mine owned, one on which | he had to give a mortgage, and I pledge ' you my word the mortgage was due at J; one end before they could get it re LI corded at the other. You see, it was ; laid olf in counties." ' | There was a murmur of astonishment, i and the Dakota man continued: 11 "I got a letter from a man who lives I1 in my orchard, just before I left home . and it had been three weeks getting to 3 the dwelling-house, though it traveled >' day and night." i " Distances are pretty wide up there, i i ain't they?" inquired a New Utrecht ; agriculturist. ' " Reasonably, reasonably," replied i the Dakota man. "And the worst of 1 it is, it breaks up families so. Two 1 years ago I saw a whole family pros i Irated with giief. Women yelling, I children hoivliug, and dogs barking, t j One of my men had his camp truck i! packed on seven four-mule teams and 1 ho was around bidding everybody i j good-bye." >i "Where wa3 ho going?" asked a > Gravesend man. i J " Be was going half way across the i farm to h d the pigs!" replied the Da i kot.i man. f ' Did he ever get back to his fami ly?" ! "It isn't time for him yet," returned ) i the Dakota gentleman. "Up there we ' 1; sciid young married couples to milk the j i i cows, a id their children biing home j tbo milk." i j "I understand you have fine mines > up th.it way," ventured a Jamaica tur nip planter. ' Ye1-, but we only use the quartz for fcncing." said the Dakota man, testing , the blade of his knife with his thumb, : preparatory to whetting it on his boot. "It won't pay to crush it, because we | can make mere money on wheat. I pu* i in 8,1)00 townships of wheat b.st sprir.g." i i " How many acres would that be?" i " Wo don't count by acres. We count ! by townships and counties. My yield was SGs.OOD.OOO on wheat alone, and ' I'm thinking of breaking up from eighr to a hundred more counties next sear i son." 1 j " How do you get the help for such ' | extensive operations?" asked the New ' j Utrecht man. " Oh, labor is cheap," replied the i: Dakota man. " You can_ get all you 1 want for froai S29 to 547 a day. in 1 i facr., I never paid over ?38." > " Is land cbeap?" "No, laud is high. Not that it costs f anything, for it don't; but under the 1 law* of the Territory you have uot to ta|o eo much or none. I w.ts in liu-k 1: Had a friend at Yanktown who got a f; bill through tho legislature sllowing ' me to talie 420,000 square miles, which f; is the smallest larm there, though it 1 | is?'' ) " Look here," said the barkeeper, as 5 { the Eastern husbandmen strolled out in i a bunch to consider the last statement, 3 " Is alt this thing you've been telling i : true?" -j "Certainly," responded the Western - ' " 1 i l : a. :? ?a j. * / 1 man; " iu ie:ist it i*? u muuiucauuii 01 31 what I saw in a Dakota paper that wan wrapped around a pair of shoos last ! night. I didn't dare put it as strong as I j the paper did for no one would believe J j it. You can slate that last round of II drinks and I'll pay in the morning. I 3j live here on Myrtle avenue."? Brooklyn j Eagle. ' j We lsnow that we must meet to part, a but we know not that wo part to meet ' | again. Mjjybe. Bhe leant across the otile, With her m?>riy goldeu smile And her bonny brown eyes glancing Through the green leaves all the white And he who loved her so Watched from the path below ; But she tossed her head so daintily, And laughed an I bade him go. Maybe ! maybe ! we cannot lmo-y; Mavbo I mavbe! 'twaa better 801 When the winds of March were loan, And the skies were dark with cloud, He had won her love forever, And she trusted all lie vowed. But she wept against his heart: " Oh, ray darling, we must part; For a barrier lies between us. Forevormore, sweetheart !'* Maybe I maybe ! we cannot hr.ow Maybe! maybe ! 'twas oetter so! And tho years have passed away, And they both are old and gray; Fi t the same sweet dream is in their hearts Forever and for aye. Oh, sweet and sad the pain Of the lovo that will not wane Go swoet, so sweet, because so true 80 sad, because in vain! Maybe I may bo 1 wo cannot know Maybe! maybe! it shall be better ao ?National ItepuiAican, IIUAlOlt OF TilE DAY. 5 Some of the most timid girls are not frightened by a load baug. The strongest man living?The man who moved the house by his learn. When a girl rejects an offer of mar riage she goes through a sleight of hind performance. " What pressing necessity to crash tho life oat of us?" inquired the apples "" of the cider mill. Peacock feathers are emblems of vanity. They servo to point a moral and adorn a tale.?Picayune. Politicians ought to make good tele graph repair men. They are used to pulling viicQZ.?Clironicl- Herald. An old negro says: " Sass iapower fnl annd in ?vfir7thinc hnt nhildren. Dey need someother kiad of dressing." A pleasantry attributed to M. Thiers: " When I was very young I was so little ?so little?that I needed a pole to knock down the strawberries. Figaro. A gentleman friend had thirty-two tee:h taken out the other day without pain, and no anresthi'tic of any kind was dried. " False!" you say. Yes, they were false. " Must the American oyster die?" 03ks one of our exchanges. It must-. If it is tough enough to go through a plain stew or a faucy roast alive, wo don't want it. " What can I do for you to induce you to go to bed no-#?" a*ked a Lowell mamma of h?-r five year-old boy. " Ton can let me sit up a little longer," was the 1$ yonngdter's reply. An advertisement reads: ""Wanted? A young man to bo partly out-door and pa'rtlv benind the counter;" and tie Cleveland leader asks: "What will ^ be the reault when thodoor s.'amsV" They sat together in the lampligh. and jead the adverti ing columns of their local paper, when lie suddenly ex claimed: "Look, only 615 for a suit of clothes! 44 Is it a wedding 6uit?" sb s asked. "Oh, no," he replied; "it, is a business buit" "Well, Imeanjkj business." she replied. That settled it. ?H'ltel World "Edward." said Clr, Kice, " wiiat do I hear ??that you liave disobeyed your grandmother, who told you just now 'not to jump down these steps?" "Grandma didn't tell us not to, pari; she only came to the door and said:* 'I wouldn't jump down those stops, boys;' and I shouldn't think she would- an old lady like her!"?Quuverneur Htr ald. ? = fish as Food. " .'J&i A doctor writes in Good Words, an English magazine, as follows: Pound for pound fish is fully as nutritions as butcher's meat. It may not seem so satisfying, but that is because the sense of satisfaction which we experience in^ eating is the result of supplying the stomach with food and, in ho direct or immediate way related "to the nourish ment of the organism as a whole. Very few of the solid substances we eat are digested, even so far as the stomach ia concerned, in less than an hour, and nutrition cannot commence until after digestion has proceeded for some time. It follows that the feeliog of satisfaction -p produced by solid food during a meal 'v': must be due to the appeasing of those cravings which are set up in the stomach rather than the supply of the needs of the system. Inasmuch as butchers' , ^ meat is less easy of digestion thau fish, and it gives the stomach more to do, it . >;$ is easy to see why it seems, at the moment, more satisfying. . Looking to the ultimate purpose of * nutrition fish is the better kind of food; J it is more readily and completely re\i^S| I duced in the stomach, and it nourishes j the organism more thoroughly, and ;'<*?! ! with less physical inconvenience, than ^ the flesh of warm-blooded animals. A j common error in regard to the use of fi>h is the failure to recognize that | there are two distinct classes c.f this 4 staple, looked at as food In one class, $ j which may be represented by themack i erel and the salmon, the oil and fat are | distributed through the flesh, while in I the other of which the cod and whiting j may be taken as examples, the oil and | fat are found almost exclusively in the ; internal organs, notably the li*.er. Now I tl: e oil and fat are necessary, and if the fish is not cooked and eaten whole, or i nearly ho. those most important parts ! are wasted. In cleaning tisb, as little ! as possible should be removed. This | is a point of the highest practical nio 1 mi-nt. Fishmongers and cocks need to be : instructed afresh on the subject. To omit any portion of the liw of a cod in preparing th? tish tor the table is '0 throw away a ?reat delicacy. A cod's liver properly dressed is a dish for a gourmet. It is inexplicable how any- Aj tiling so nauseous as the " cod liver oil" of the chrin>st and drugwist can be pre pared fr?>m anything so nice as the liver : of cod. Housekeepers und those who [ purvey f >r the table should take care :j that nothing edible in a tish is sacri ; (iced. For cooking purposes it may be assumed that lish is not only good food, I but food of the best description; well i able to supply the needs of the system, j and particularly easy of digestion. It I is equally serviceable f??r the wei.k as j for tho robust, the young as the old. A Journalistic Incident. Jones rushed iuto tiio office of the IVce1* ly Squa^ivin* the other day. There was a wild look in his eye and a copy of the SqitasJtvhiH in his hand. ' Did \ou put that piece in here?" he J if av wAiritm/y ttti I urinauurn ui tuuvi, [a/iuviuq muu | a tvenibiinLT fiuger to a paragraph stat | ing that fait scattered about the yard j would kill fowl. "That?" said the editor, inquiringly, stopping in the midht of his editorial j and lading down his paste-brush; '"yes, j that's mine. What of it? True, ain't r it?" . >1 "Yea, and that's just what's the mat j ter," said Jones; and you may stop ? i njy paper right otf, do you hear?" ' Oh, yes; certainly," said the editor. I "John," ho called ou^, "stop Jones' i paper. Anything els*, Mr. Jones?" "Yes, there is something else!" shrieked Jones, maddened at the edi- ' tor's coolness "I'd like to know what you put such things in your paper for.* There's Smith, who lives next door to me. He got your rascally sheet Satur- * . day night, and Monday morning, sir, his yard was full of dead hens?my jj hens', sir! He'd salted his \egetable garden, the villain, and all along of | that, confounded piece of yours!' The editor delegated the big press I man to show Junes out, remarking that i he was glad to have such uupn jndiced ; corroboration of thfe truth of his last * j week's statements.?Hoaton Travscript. { An Iowa City clergyman lias raised a ! ton of honev this vear.