The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, January 11, 1882, Image 1
r ABBEVILLE PRESS MD"?13OT^
BY HUGH WILSON ANI) H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 11, 1882. ^ NO, 32. VOLUME XXYI. fjg
>Iy Heart's Voice.
To niv heart's voioc I listened, listened,
Wlien life was bright and hope was strong,
When grief was short and joy was long,
To my heart's voice I listened, listened,
And lo ! it was a song,
A merry soug.
To my heart's voice 1 listened, listened,
When gathering clouds o'ercast the sky,
When joy was tar and grief was nigh,
To my heart's voice I listened, listened,
And lo ! it was a sigh,
A heavy ?i?l?.
To my heart'-* voice I listened, listened,
When earthly pain knew heavenly 1 aim,
When trouble deep knew deeper calm,
To my heart's voice I listened, listemd.
And lo! it was a p?alm.
A holy psalm.
A NEW YEAR CHOICE.
One mipht think, wbc> saw her life,
mat Jew people leu u jonener mo tna.i ]
Nina Prentice did An orphan with
narrow means, keepiug up her dead
father's Louv\ Ihcre was little vi.-iMe
exciteme:,t in such an existence. Yet
heis was :s temperament that did not j
require <xeiement, and that found hap- !
piness v Lt re others would not dream
of looking for it. Hor garden and her
flowers we re like a household to her;
the peer id! over the little hill-town afforded
l.er occupation; the visited
somewhat among a few wealthy a qraintunces;
and, for the rest, if she
had such day djearns as other young
girls are wont to indulge, no one was j
any wifcer for them.
Not ody knew that hei friend's father,
the wealthy Mr. Barnes, had made her
h standing cfl'cr (f marriage env time
within the hist three years; nobody
knew from her that Bryce Hanscorj
went out to a Mexican ranch because
she bad no smiles fo civehim; nobody
knew \ibetl . r Harold Hartley's face
?ver danced out of the windows of her
ras-tle.*- in tbeair: nobtdy know whether
one New Yea'';; day she looked forward !
to the next witu any wonder as to what I
it xuiplit bring her of sorrow or joy. J
She wus so suee^, fto silent, so gentle, ;
that people in general knew no more
of her emotions than of those of the
sta'ue of some faint in its churchly
niehe.
Yet it was only on the last New Year's
evening that, if any one had been able |
to look behind her curtains, they would |
have seen her on her knees before the I
low blaze of her fir--1, crying ae if her
heart would break, burjing her face in
her hands and longing for the night i
xrVion ' this f?-vpr rnllpd livinc" Mlirmhl
be over at last.
"New Years and New Tears!" she
sobbed. * " Ali! hoT can I bear an-,
other so alone 1"
Perhaps Mrs. Hartley, her mother's ,
old intimate, bad some faint idea of the ;
fire that burned under this crust of
snow. But Mrs. Hartley was not en-;
tirely impartial in her judgment of the
girl, anil it was her morning and even-j
ii g prayer that Nina should at some day j
stand in a closer relation to her than
she did at pnseut. tut, as that would ;
be impossible without her son Harold's j
intervention, she left no stone unturned i
to ihst end. Mra. Hartley thought .she ,
l new a great deal better what was good
tor her son then he did; and when she
had mude up her ruind t> at he had :
better marry Nina Prentice, it was because
phe consulted his best welfare?
possibly without complete regard to!
Nina'n. She knew that Harold, although ;
oa offn/.tmnofo ttoo r\f o Timli 4umr\ov* '
V uui Viiwuai^i TT UO VI u .
and that Nina had inexhaustible stores
of still patience, ami that that still pa- '
tience would await the time^when he
should come back to her, no longer the
knight errant, spurred by a restless
nature, but a tjniet anu dignified gentle*
Oian, ready to take his father's honored
place in the community. Her ap-;
pro.> ches in the question were exceed .
ingly gentle; vet not eo gentle that
they d d not put Harold on his guard,
so that he was like the hunted deer, j
stuflinc the gale alar off.
" "Well, mother, I thank goodness,"
be said, with a light laugh, on detect- |
ing bu^meaning, "that we do not live
in France, and that \ou can't go and inquire
Nina's dut abd settle the?"
' Tt's a very good dot, Haiold. Just'
/i snug littie income to keep the wolf!
from the door and satisfy reasonable i
wantt?: acd it would be vastly better for 1
uny hm1 ?.r.d than launching out ou the
UvmendciH fortune of Miss Barnes,
with palaces, so to Ear, anil ;.acuts una ;
>.aoiig hor.-es."
" Just give me the chance to see ii if
it is.. Go to Miss Barnes, mother,"1
ciied Harold, ":?vly. '-As-k the amount!
01 her dot, and if your scapegrace oi' a
son is woith it. Yachts ar.d racing
horses ! I like the idea."
" Oh, Haroid !"
" But Miss Barnes is a beauty, too. j
mother, ar.d very hweet and gay. The t
man that marries ber needn't marry for ;
her money ut ail. bhe would have; h>v- !
eisif she hadn't a penny in ber own j
right. Dcn't ee marry fur money, l.ut1
go wh^er money be,'" quoted Harold. ,
' Excellent aivice, that old northern
farmer's. And I'll go 'where money be' j.
to-ni?ht.*' as bp drew on bis glovos.
"Don* talk so, Harold. Don't talk ,
ho, even in jest. Miss Barnes may be
well enough, for all I know, but her {
monpv would dr-stioy you, who were J
not born to money. You would do
nothinc and come to nothing. But as ;
i. VT._? T) T ..?wi ?
mi x>u:u Aieiinfc, ua i nuiu, ?uos ;t j
saint."
' Wouldn't do at all for a wife then.'
Wives mustn't. bo too good 'for human j
nature's daily food.' Think of reproving
a saint because the buckwheats
were flat, or the buttons off. Adios, you j
managing mamma," and he was none.
It was a misty summer ni^ht, ho
thick one could hardly see a f-tar. But:
those ringing steps needed no guiding
star to direct them; for, to tell the
truth, Harold Hartley suspected himself
of being already more than halt in 1 >vo
with Mi?* Barnes. Undoubtedly, there
was something in her supeib surroundings
that added to her own char'.as;
and khe s-eemed, too, as entirely at
b^mo in them aj. the flower that blossom?
in the rich, moirt air of the*hoth'U-e.
That velvet lawn, set with its
flaming exo'ies and beds ot flowers,
with the lofty porches and wide halls
behind it, the dimly-lit, drawing rooru>i,
und the diniiic-rrtom. with its trmiproiis :
sideboard?all the consciousness of
easa and comfort and delight of tlio i
senses about tho place made visiting !
Miss Barnes a very pleasant way of'
passing time ; and then, moreover, us '
her father was a prominent man of i
affairs among Hie politicians of thej
country, one met there people who en- j
larged the mentui horizon and made a
maa think for himself and think more
of himself.
To niplit, however, as he went along, j
his mother's words gave him a little'
thought, and it, did occnr to him that it j
was unwise to let himself become so ;
used to all this splendor and luxury on j
a venture; for,lifter all, a girl of such j
wealth and fascination as Mi?s Barnes '
had her choice from a crowd of lovers, '
of whom he was but one and the least
conspicuous.
just as tnese mlutary reliections stole
through his mind his ear was caught by
the cning of a child, and he paused to j
jook into the window of the cottage
that he was passim;, and to see a woman j
hnshiog a little child, whoso face was |
now hidden in her neck?a slender, |
dartlv clad woman, who moved here ;
and there, with the baby on her arm, ;
and attended to the wants of a number
of other children, while a man s;it at
tha table, with his arm* thrust out
straight before him and his head fallen
> between them, in an attitude of abject
dfcbpair. The woman's back was toward
him all the time ; but something
about her reminded him of Nina Pren
tioe.
'"Pretty much what I migl.v expect,
I suppose," groaned Harold, "if I
obeyed my mother. By George!" as
' the' woman half turned, a bweet, fair,
sad faoe, and delicate profile of figure,
MI believe it is Nina!"
But its abt?urdity destroy tho fancy,
and he went on bis way, whistling a bar
or two of the "Wanderer," and would
have been very shortly with Miss
;
- Mi! jok?-.* . -sAV
Barnes, lrul he not been detained l>y a
dif-cnssio'i with a chanc? friend at a
corner ; and bad not then stepped into
n pool of water, and been obliged to
hunt up a bootblack, the little wretch
afterward keeping him waiting for his
change.
" 1 declare," paid he to Nina, when
at last he reached Miss Barnes' parlors,
" I thought I saw you married to
a drunken laborer, as I catno along tonight,
with a gang ot babies clambering
round"?
' What mtde you think him drunken?"
asked Nina, with her sweet seriousness.
"Ob! the looks of him?the arms on
th? table, the fallen head, unkempt,
i uushorn, you know, and all the rest."
" I suppose." said Nina, "that a poor
I man, whose wife lay dead in the other
[ room, might look much that way."
i " 1 believe it was you!" cried Harold, j
" Do 1 look like it!" she asked, light- j
ly. "And have I a dual existence, to
be here and there too?" And th^n, j
as Harold glanced her over, in her airy
muslins iitul forget-me-nots, ho .smiled i
at the idea; and she seemed all at once i
as different from that woman, aud from !
all other women, as if she had stepped i
out of another star. Yet, ior all that, a j
man does not care to> marry a woman .
who is different from all other womQp j
simpiy to oblige his mother.
" What are you two talking about r" j
asked Miss Barnes, standing before
them just then, the picture of a Bacchante,
with her head bound with cur- j
rant leaves and her clustering curls like 1.
grape bunches about her dark and !
laughing face. "Are you promising j
Nina that you will come to Washing- j
ton this winter V Nina is to he with me I
there for the holidays, you know. If i
vou should, swell my list on New ,
Year's." And then she went dancing |
down the room, for the misty night j
lmd rlrk-pn pvorvbodv withindoors; and i
a waiter was just bringing in u tray of j
juleps.
"When I was a little confirmed 1
drunkard of f l?o age of ten I signed the
pledge," said Miss Barnes,conveying the j
waiter to Harold. "But I didn't k 'ow 1
how nice juleps were. Now I am totally i
depraved. Here, Mr. Hartley. Nina ! j
It's quite as immoral to drink lemonade I
with straws as mint juleps. The sin ,
lies altogether in the straws I"
" It depends on the individual 1
whether there is any siu about it, I |
think," said Nina. " But I love leni- ;
onade. A lemon seems to carry cool- i
ness into the tropics."
" And yon don't know why you j
should burn your throat?that long, j
white throat?out with the other? Get;
thee to a nunnery!" As the Ray fcirl I
lifted her glowing glass to the waxlights,
Harold wLiispered to Nina, " I
don't believe the Bacchantes used P
straws," ami was astonished that Nina,
did not laugh. But that night the faces j
of the two girls kept shining upon him
out of the darkness, as ho walked |,
home. The one the self-indulgent, j
laughing beauty; the other, if not
beautiful, yet certainly a lovely face in
its fairness and perfect calm. And the !
girl lifting her glass to tbe glow of tbe ,
wax lights did not seem to bin; so ;
charming as before. . !,
" Do you know," said Mr. Hartley's (
mother, one twilight, some time afterward,
"I'm afraid I have been doing an
injustice to Miss Barnes? She really i
had a heart. Those poor McNultys!
When Mrs. McNulty died she used to
go down there every evening, and cany
a supper, and hear the children's ,
prayers, and put them to bed, and:
leave a breakfast set out f^r tbe father J
in the morning. .Tust think of that
girl doing such things 1"
"Did she tell you that 6he did, i!
mother V" asked Harold.
"Well, no. That is, not exactly. lj(
heard that one of the Hill ladies was j (
down at the McNultj'e doing these (
t ings. and spoke of it incidentally to ,
Miss B.irnes; and she asked me to say ,
nothing about it, and said she only did ; ]
what she couldn't help doing; and when (
I said I thought it u great deal for her ,
to leave nil tor gay iue every sunset,
and po down there, night after night,
and wait on that family, iul then hurry '
home to her household of company, she 1
colored up so prettily, and said we were j
all stewards, und it was duty and pleas- j
ure, too, to do what Tube could."
" Humph !" said Harold Hartley. He '
know very well now who it was that he i
saw through the window of the McNultv
cottage. But, after all. a pretty
face covers a multitude of sins Ho
set about forgetting the deceit; he
reasoned that it was a girlish jest, sig- ,
nifving nothing; and he wont to Washington
all the same, shortly after the |
holiday season arrived, and presented j
himself among the fiist New Year's i,
callers at the great doors of Mr. Barnes'
residence there.
"Ah ! have you come?" cried Miss
Barnes, hurrying to meet him. *' We
were so afraid you wouldn't. And now :
yon kuow so few people in town that i
you have no calls to make, and I want j
you to siay the whole day hero with us. ;
I've a perfect, crowd of pretty g vis to i
help mo receiv , and a dear deaf-and-'
dumb old duenna for it chaperon, and it ;
will bo euo long festival! Will you have ;
some Refreshment, now? Champagne j
uunch? There's some Madeira, fifty
years ol<l. All! there's the bell. Every
man to Iris post! There are no privates .
here; but I'm captain-general!" anu she
dancpd buck to her place, well content
t but Mr. Hartley should see the triumphal
procession that the day was likely
to be.
And a triumphal proc ssion it was?
the^VMmiOJse ibme. L >ungers, clerks,
attaches, members, senators, secretaries,
officers in their splendid uniforms,
all swelled the ranks, swept
through the great house, and kept it
thronged with groups in the rose draw- j
ing room, groups in the gray parlor, in !
the music hall, the dining-room and i
the conservatory.
As the day wore on Miss Barnes,
with a portion of her attendants, was
as much in tiiQ, diuim?-room as the
drawkg-room, sauntering in with one
and out with another, or standing undet
'he heavy curtains between the room*.
What a pictuie she made, Harold ,
thought, in htr scaritt satins, with yllow
poppies in her hair, against the
background of the citrine-colored curtains.
There she was now, taking that |
Venetian gem of a decanter from a ser- j
vant, and herself pouring wine for nn j
ola senator, who na<i pernaps aireauy ;
too cinch. Here came a parcel of goldlaced
otlicers, flushed and gay and handsome.
What did shn ruean by urging |
that old port on the half-tipsy bo;i I
among them, while the others laughed
and jested ?
Harold was not ordinarily troubled j
with scruples ; but this seethed to him i
to pa?3 the limits of a jest, and he ex- '
perienced a sense of reliei as he saw a ;
lady approach in the shadow of the cii>-- i
tain, and placing her bund on his arm j
lead the boy away. Gowned in gleaming i
white satin, her shining, shape crowed
that scarlet blaze like the parsing of a
moonbean, and knowing who it was !
and thinkiner she might have trouble, J
Harold followed: but it was only to
find Nina aloue in the gray parlor, the j
boy having laughed her cup of bouillon
to scorn and left her out of hand.
" Isn't it too bad ?" she said, with a
laugh that was half a sigh, after all. I
" Ho aslied me if I was a temperance I
lecturer, and called this delicious bouil-!
Ion 'slops.' "Will you have it ?'
" Where have you been ali day 9" he i
said, setting down the cup.
" Oh! I am on duty on tiii*-. side. We !
arc all stationed by plan of battle ; but :
most of my battulion have deserted to
the other room*. Isn't this a lovely
one ? It almost unfits a person for j
1 quiet life nt bome, these gay nights and ,
' days. It would, at least, if one were j
quite at rest in .t."
It was a lovely room. It tempted all I
j Harold's old love of ease and luxury.
: The gr.iy velvet on the floor, draping j
j the walls, covering the cushioned
j divans, wearing a frosty bloom under
the silver chandeliers, the delicateCivrved
jades, and ivories, and spar*, the
ono white-winged marble, it ses-med
somehow as if Nina herself had taken
shape from all these pure, pearly
shadows. He looked through the
gleaming arches that led from room to
room and saw the scarlet-clad and
golden-crowned beauty standing there,
with the ruby glass suspended in her
hand as she offered it to somo new
1 guest, and a strange shudder stole over
him.
Unjust as it might, be, for that single
I moment the one of tin two girls was
: like a picture of the incarnation of sin
I and the other of innocence. He remembered
the icy morning, a few weeks
ago, when he had seen Nina in her,
: swansdown mantle holding up a sheaf
: of wheat a-jainst the blue sky, and a
hund red little btlu'ed birds hovering
, round it, with whirring wings and chir- i
ruping cries, and he turned and looked
at Nina with a piercing gaze again, before
which her ;'soft eyes fell, till the ,
; blushes streamed up to meet the lashes;
aim us lit? guzeu nijuwii'ugc i-uluc ?au*'ij
I swelling up in Harold's heart and soul
i that, whatever attraction dark and
slowing beauty and luxurious surroundings
had had for his senses, it. had been
for his senses ulone, aud that tho love !
of his life had suddenly sprung, full 1
grown and winged for an eternal flight,
?so eternal that now, in tho first moment
of its recognition, he could no !
more tell it' it had ever had beginning
and if it would ever bav an end. So i
white, so fair, so sweet, so pure?was it i
possible hf. had been blind to it all lor
years 'I So white, so fair, so sweet, so ,
pt.re, was it possible th it he could
win her? Would she take the poor
rmnant he had to give?his jeuntsse
epnix*e.
For one brief moment Harold Harh .
ley felt pangs of punishment that seemed |
to have lasted for years, and he felt like i
a sad old man as he still pazed at her. ;
But he was one not to be long daunted,
either bv his own unworthin^ss or by j
the cruelty of fate. In a heart beat or
two he was himself again, nnd he
plunged in, aware that, even if she
would have none of him now, it gave
him the vantage-ground of her compassion
for the future.
" I am glad," he said, "that you are
not at rest in ihis life. It is p. different
life that I wish you to share. Nina, is
it possible " And then a little hand ,
stole into his. and he led her away iijto
tbe palm shadows of the conservatory.
' Ah 1 what a fool I have been," he was !
saving, exultantly, as he bent over her. j'
"Why did I never know that I loved :
you Iefore V" !1
" I always felt you did," she was mur-!
muring to reply. "I always knew you
would? if not here, then hereafter, t
For I never remember the time when IJ:
did not love you !" i <
<.?- ! ii.:.. vr.? ? ? .1? ? |
'AllU. IU1S iOtti n utt), JIC r>o>vi, j
" is the gateway of a new life for both ; i
of us. Ah! with God's help, what a j;
life lies before us!" j j
_ . ^
A Kt igo Coach's IVril.
Frank Ensign, considered one of the |,
best stage conch drivers in the Rocky 1 '
mountains, while on a trip from Gunni- '
?or>, Col., to the Elk mountains, was j !
asked by a passenger :
" Did yon over meet with an upset
on these mountain roads?" 1
"No; but I had a terribly close call <
near Grand Canon a year ago the 10th I
of August." j1
Here Frank grasped the butt of his 1
whip and curved the tip of the lash
over the leaders' heads. The handle 1
of the whip was highly ornamented. 1
There were about a dozen silver bands 1
on it. On the broad band at the bnct j 1
there was an inscription of several! ]
lines.
" I seldom handle this whip without ]
tbinkiug of thai ride," said Frank. 1 f
Seeing that I was interested, he con- ! t
tinned: (
\V"e had n load oi nineteen pus-sen- f
gers inside and outside the coach, and 1
ten heavy hunks in the boot. We ]
were going from Silver Cliff to Canon }
City. I had the beet six-horse outfit t
rcn tbe line, and felt a pride in driving. [ j
although I knew the load was too heavy ! (
for the coach in some places. At my j
>ide sat a pretty little lady, and 011 the (
end of the seat was the wife of one of | <:
tlireetors. The director sat behind his I
wife. All went well until we came to
ihe top of Greenhorn range. The drive
ilown tbe ranee for two miles and a i <
half is one of the most perilous in the
Rockies. In places there is scarcely , t
six inches to spare to keep you from j ,
going over the precipice, aud on the ; t
other side w a wall of ^nck. About half1 j
way down is a point called Cape Horn. .
The road has been built out around [ l
this rocky point, and the turn is so .
sharp that when the lraders of a six- j j
hor.*-e team have rounded the rock they I j
ure out of the driver's sight. This!
place is tbe dread of all the drivers and ; f
teamsters on the road. The descent is j.
about 2G0 feet to the mile, and when <
once you start thero is no stopping
until you reach the bottom.
" Of court-e I felt a little anxious
when the leaders wt nt over the brow of
the range ; but my wheelers weie powerful
and game, and trained to obey
every word of command and touch of |
the whip, while "the others were (steady
and fast enough to keep out of harm's j
way. As tlie eoaeti began the descent;
I placed my foot on the biake with a :
firm hold. The heavy load required
extra pressure, und I gave it steadily, j
We hadn't gone mere than tweniv yards ;
when the brake broke! In an instant!
tho coach wa. on the wheelers; and
they were on tln-ir haunches, snorting
and using their forelegs like plows. Is!
wajnouse. The leaders went in the |
air like wild hor&fs, and to save them- '
selves from being crushed the wheelers
sprang to thi-ir feet and joined in the
race, One yell came from the men on ;
tho coach, pierced by a (simultaneous ,
shriek from the women. Alter that I
they remained still as death. The
little woman grasped mo i':und the ]
waist at tho first jump of tho horses, l f
nxniu OO if 111 O TTICA '
Ill >11.1 lilt*, Hi J ai ill O t* O 11 AAA W r*..w. Aw* I ^
Gjd's sake, woman,' I exclaimed, 'Jot!
go of me and take hold of the rods by i
your side. Our only hope of safety | .
lies in mv being able to gnido tlie f <
horses.' She unwound her arms, and I i j
haudled ttie reins us best I could.
" Down we pluugid, ihe coach swing- , (
ing and rocking like a toy. There |
wasn't a place wide enough tozigzig, I
to break tlui velocity of descent. J
turned my head for an instant toward i ,
tho director. His wifn Iml fainted, j j
ho ha.i all he could at.vml to in ! .
holding her in her seat. There were !
places where the outer edge of the j
roadway had been ground oil', and iu i '
hugging the bauk tho wheelers marly !
Caused a e< liision several times, fuirly j
bouncing an 1 balancing the Ktcgti on j ,
two wheels. At lust the horse* dashed j !
around Cape Horn and there I gave up ! ;
the stage as lost. These staae.-; are so [ '
built that when they overturn a pin |
<bops out that eoiiiH'cis the pole end j'
fi. fliA fonr>li ii?111 tli<? ilriviT bus i
a chance to f-avehimself by being drawn
eft by tho Lovses. When the leaders ,
were out. of sight uronud the rock it!
(lufthed through me that, I might save !
the little woman. Sj I took a tinner j
grasp on the lines with my ri;>ht hand,
and was ready to swing my leit around |
her body. The stano swirled and actn- j
ally made the turn cn tlie two outside
wheels. Then, thank i.i<>d, hb" M-iile;.! I
down again and went on bouncing down j
the range. It seemed an age before!
we reached the level, wh?vo the horses J
ran two or thieo handled yards b?i'ore j
T could stoj) them. When I did finally J
get at their heads to caress ami encourage
them for briutiiner ns down
safely, the perspiration was pouring
out oi' every pore of my body, although
it was a cold day in tho mountains.
41 When the director got in and related
the incidents of tho ride to other
members of the company, they asked: I
4 What shall we do for Frank?' 4Give
him a check for S100,' replied tho dircc j
tor. They gave me the check and the
nrwl !
pented me with 8105 in cash and this
whip, which I elxall carry as long as 1 i
drive."
The Sunday school childrpn of
America, who are sometimes too lazy to
roach school in time are put. to shame
; by ihe little Tt-loogoo children in
India. We are gravely told that these
young persons otten wall; as far as eight.v
O" niuety miles in order to attend the
B ?pti."t schools. The wotst of it is That
hiso schools are sometimes so lull that
tne doors have to be closed agaitst
these pedestrian seekers afterBalvation.
SUNDAY KKAIM N(J.
Hour* In Churcli.
Wo often bear of "bears and bulls"
on 'change, lint the M< Ihodist thinks the
former are often found in our churches.
It reniarKs:
" "Tlie hear' is especially prevalent in
the chnrch at times. 'Jt is all dying
out,' ho afiirms; 'let us give it up; it is
past helping,' ho exhorts. The trouble ]
is always a personal one; this bead's i
religious vitality is below par. He 1
needs a tonic, and should call in his (
neighbors for a prayer-meeting. Bears s
such as he have cried out their despair
in everv generation and in everv year. 1
Somebody is always below par in hope, I
and trviug to depress the spiritual I
market for personal ends or from per- <
sonal poverty of grace."
UcnaoiiM for Di o-slnu rintiilyj oil Smiilay. : (
1. It wonhl lessen the burden of i <
many who find it hard work to main- (
tain their places in socieiy.
2. It would lessen the force of the ^
temptations which often lead men to
barter honor aud honesty for display, j
3. If there were less style in dress at j
church, people in moderate circumstances
would be moro inclined to at- ; ;
tend. j s
4. Universal moderation in dress a i
church would improve the wort-hip
by the removal of many wandering j
thoughts.
5. It would enable all classes of people
to attend church better in unfavor- t
able weather. I
(' . It would lessen on the part of the
lich the temptation to vanity.
7. It won hi lessen on the part of th? i
poor the temptation to be envious and t
malicious. r
8. It would save valuable time on the f
Lord's day.
;? It would relieve our means of a c
oAvtAiia *>wACQiivn a n rl lltlifl MS tn J
do more for good enterprises. | 1
Itcllirloii* Inielllifpnco i e
The English Congregational Jubilee | i,
fund, which is intend* d to be ?1,000,001), i
has already reached ?320,000?and only i
just fairly started.
The Lutheran almanac for 1882 reports
for the Uuited States and C.inada
tifty-six synods, 3,307 ministers, 5,851 a
churches, and 739,413 communicants.
It is paid that the members of the
Presbyterian congregation cf the Rev. F
A. B. Mackay, of Montreal, hrivo given
in the last year ?140,000 for the cause
of theological education.
Tho Rev. W. C. Pond reported to the ^
Congregational association of California >
recently that he bad succeeded in raising 11
&100,0ik) for the Golden Gate academy
md Theological seminary. i a
It is stated upon good authority fliat |
in the last five years the Presbjterians j v
3f the United States have organized !
Duly seventy-seven new churches, the I h
otal number at present being 1,957. c<
Tho Friends of New York city report an
increase of 199 members above all losses ^
luring the past year. This unusual | v
?ain is ascribed to the influence of re- i
rival meetings, which are now per- jc.
mitted to be held.
At the annual meeting of the Maryand
Baptist Union association, which ^
-vas held in Baltimoro a short ticue ago,
he initiatory steps were taken to Ward d
laving a hfflfcrv of tho Baptists of
Maryland written. ! 8t
P
Mr. Moodv has been well received in J
England. One writer explains the | v
secret o! his power as follows: " He j
alks to tho people?to, not before j ai
hem; and he has thoroughly maf-teied | ^
ho subject he is talking about; he has I 11
marvelous eelf-possession; naturalness;
je never dwells too long on one point; e<
lis illustrations arc homely; ho uses 61
,imple Saxon words; he is a roan of 'one ai
)ook;' ho is, as he says, not merely
arnest, but terribly in earnest; and he rc
ias spiritual power, suet only as a man J ti
:an have who is tilled with the Holy b
spirit of God." I g
Tiic Little Shepherd Dog. ! ft]
The best t?f these dogs are worth ti
>200 or even more. Ono herder, whom I n<
,ve met at Cold Spring ranch, showed j ai
is a very pretty one that ho said he t
vouhl not sell for $500. She had at I 0.
hat. time four young puppies. The j n
light we arrived wh visited his camp, J 0]
md were greatly interested 111 the littje
nother and her nursing babies. Amid !!,
hose wild, vast mountains, this littles
lest of motherly devotion and l>aby
rust was very beautiful.
While wo were exclaiming the assistant
herder cumo to say that there G
vere more than tweuty sheep missing. ss
r?o male d .gs, both larger than thu Ui
ittle mother, were standing about wiili 1,1
heir hands ill their breeches, doing j
lotliing. But the: herder said neither \ lf
L'om nor Dick would Cud them. Flora
nust go. It was urged by the assistant S
hat. her foot was sore, si.e had been c]
jard at work all day, and was nearly 01
vorn out, and mu4 suckle her puppies. w
The boss iu i.-led that sho ruusi; go. r(
fhe sun was betting. There was no Sf
,ime to lose. Flora was called, and
old to hunt for lost sheep, while her I!
uasttr pointed to u preat forest, g
hrough the edge of which they had T
mss( (i r 11 their way up. She raised ''
11 r brad, but seemed very loth to leave s*
ler babies. .'1 ho boss called sharply to h
ler. .She rose, looked tired and lowipinted,
with head and tail down, and "
rotted wearily off toward the forest. h
[ said : ^
"This is too bad." ' ^
' Oh, Blie'lJ be rift lit uactt. blie's | ?i
ightning on :->trny sheep." ?
The next morning" i went ever to "
earn whether Flora hail founrt the 0
itraye. While wo were speaking the
ihtep were returning, driven by a little
log, who did net raise her head nor ai
,vag her tail, even wiieu spoken to, but ^
trawled to her puppies and lay down by
;hem, otiering tho little empty breasts.
she had been oat alt night, and while
H-r hnn?,ry babies were tui/girg away, w
:eU asleep. 1 have never seim auything ^1
?o touch;Ug. 80 far as I was concerned "
'tliero was ndt a dry eye in the house." 1 l'
ilotv often thats'-one comes back to | 0
me?tho Vii.st, gloomy forest, and that|?
little creature, with sore foot and her "
lieart crying for her babies, limping [ 11
ind creeping about, in the wild caverns 1
md through tho long, dark hours, lind- <l'
til*? and gut boring in t lie lost sueep;
I wonder if i>.uy preacher of the gospel
ever BW.K'hffd for lost sheep under "
circumstances so hard and with such
painful sacrificesV Bur, then, wo must w
Dot expect too much from men. J t i:s ^
the dog that stands for fidelity and
sacrifice. The best part of man is the
i\o<r that is in iiiai.? THo Lewis.
.... F
WInE WORDS. n
No man is more miserable than he i'i
that hath no adversity. 0
All up-hill ttork when wo would do; h
all uoMi-hill when we suffer. d
An effort ma le for the happiness of u
others lifts us above ourselves.
Haif the ills wo hoard in our hearts
are ills because we hoard them. .
Truth and love are two of the most <1
powerful tbin.-'s in the world; and [
when tLe.v ko together they can- j
not easily ho withstood. I
As the shadow follows the substance, v
so tho sting of conscience follows an t
evil deed; one die? only with the sun- 1
lip-lit; the other expires with iiitolli- f
geuee. 1
I like boiler for one to say some fool- '
ish thing upon important matters than 1
to bo nilt nt. That becomes tho sub- '
ject of discussion and dispute, and the *
truth is discovered.
Merit has rarely risen of itself, but h {
pebble or i; twig is often quite Millie ion! ?
for it to spring from the lowest to the T
highest ascent. There is usually some :
baseness bi fore thero i-i any elevation. 5
A c?rtain amount of opposition is n (
great. help in a man. Kites rise against ,
uud not with the wind. Even a heail ,
wiod is better than none. No man ever j
wmki d his pattsaj.0 anywhere in a dead (
calm.
Few seem to have any opinions of ,
their own. or think for themselves ,
Like dead lish they go with the stream i
aTd tide; what others think ripht they i
think riRht, and what others call wrong j
they call wrong. I
FOR Tin: LAWKS.
Making Things Oyer.
" Maria," said Mr. Jones, upon one
>f his worrying days, u it seems to me
Fou might he more economical; now,
ihere's my old clothes, why can't yon
make them over for the children, instead
of giving them away?"
"Because they're worn ont when
rou're done with them," answered Mrs.
Jones. " It's no nse making over
ihings for the children that won't hold
together; yon conld not do it yonrself,
jmart as you are."
"Well," grumbled Jones, ' I wouldn't
:iave closets fnll of things mildewing
'or want of wear if I was a w man,
;Iiat's all. A penny saved is a penny
?amed."
That was in April. One warm day in
May Mr. Jones went prancing through
ho closets looking for something he
ouldn't find, and turning things generally
inside out.
"Maria," he screamed, "where's my
jray alpaca duster ?"
"Made it over for Johnny/'
"Ahem! Well, there's the brown
inen one I bought last summer I"
"Clothes-bag !" mumbled Mrs. Jones,
vho seemed to have a difficulty in her
ipeeeh at that moment. "Just made
t into a nice one."
"Where are my lavender pantsf':
celled Jones.
"jbut them over for Willie."
"Heavens!" groaned-her husband;
hen in a voice of thunder, "Where
lave tny blue suspenders-got to?"
"Hung t ieb.d>y-juraper with thera."
"Maria!" asked the astonished man.
n a subdued voice, "would yon mind
elling me what you have done with
uy silk hat; you haven't made that over
or the baby, have you.'
it Al? /I ? foncTir^vorl Ina YPlfn
UU, UV| urai i Muonvjv VI ??i
heerfnlly; " I've u&ed that for a lmugug
basket. It i3 full of plants, aud
ookitig lovely."
Mr. Jones never mentions the word
conomy, or suggests making over?he
as had enough of it.
Fnahlon Notes.
Bustles are moribund.
The crinolet grows smaller.
Colored stones, set with diamonds, !
re much worn.
There is a revival of Etruscan gold as
opular jewelry.
Serpent bracelets in silver and silver
ilt are very fashionable.
Lace balayeuses are added to all
andsome dancing dresses.
Silver sphinx-heuds are seeu upon
ew cloak and dress buttons.
Chinese-shaped cloaks' grow more
nd more in faahionablo Javor.
Poncock feather brocades, shaded
ith silver tinsel, are a novelty.
A new dress fabric is a moire and
ice stripe silk in delicate shades of
olor, in
Elizabethan paniers, wired over the
ips to keep them in chape, are-reived.
Many of the long elegant midwinter
loaksaro lined thioughout with mauvented
or crin'son plush.
Lily-of-the-valley fringe laid over
ills of white luce is a delicate diess
imming much used upon evening
reuses.
White ostrich feather trimming is
?en upon a few very supsrb and costly
arisian toilets of white satin and veiet
brocade.
The luxurious silver-pointed, tiger,
nd mottled plush trimmings for w|nit^r
rap.- rival those of the most costly jar
i popularity.
Solitaire diamond earrings are not
i fashionable this season as large
lpphire, rubies, cats' eyes,opals, pearls
ad emeralds set around with diamonds
Gold or silver lace, wi^h rich ornalents
to correspond, form the_decora
ods of ninny elegant Mother Hubbard
onnets of dark admiral blue, rich mos
roen, or deep bishop's purple velvet
Gold, pearl, silver, jet, coral beads,
ad delicate gold chains passed several
mcs around the neck are worn as
ecklaces; but they are all .worn high
ad close, not falling on the shoulders.
The bangles of tho present seasoij \
pen on one si-Je r.ith a spring to ailiit
tho arm, while tho overlapping
ids are capped with a ball, a large
wel, or an animal's head in gold, sil31",
or earned semi-precious stones.
Under Fire at Petersburg.
In a sketch of reminiscences of ]
rant's siege of Petersburg, "M. Quad" j
iys in tlf Detroit Fx?, Press: 1 did
at find one single citizen who could
at remember and recount souio
ulicrous incident connected with tho
>ng months in which every day witess-ed
tho event of shot and shell,
tanding almost in the ceuter of Ihe
ty is a brick house which was struck
ight times in two weeks, and a citizen
ho has a stall at the market vividly
'members tho first ball which came
tiling over. Ho was a youug man
len, holding a government clerkshii)
? ttiVhinnnd. nnd was in love with a
irl whose parents owned the house, j
he mother regarded him with favor,
ut the father, who was a colonel and
ationed near the orator, had given
im the cold shoulder. One night the
erk went down to Petersburg to Bee
16 fair maiden. Her father was away,
cr mother good-natured, and everyling
was lovely for a time. They
ere holding each other's hands and
leaking of a woodbincd cottage and so
rtli when z-z-z-z z came a cast-iron ball
cm ono of Grant's gnus and knocked
li a gable of the house.
"That's pop, and he'll bounce you !"
louted the girl as she heard the crash,
ad the clerk threw up a window,
aped into the alley and ran for life.
On another occasion a bedroom in
lis same house was occupied by a Bap
bt preacher, who had seen plenty ofar
aud was then on a furlough. A
mnder-storm came on in the sight,
ad during the midst of it Grant's guns
irew a dozen balls info the town. One
f them ripped oft' f-ix feet of cornice
ver the preacher's bed, aud lie sprang
p, rushed out hit < the hall, and there
let one of the servants and shouted :
"Get water?struck by lightning?
lie house is on lire 1"
" Oh, no, it isn't," replied the woman ;
it's only one of dem cannon balls t'iom
e Union army."
" Js that a a-1," drawled the preacher
'itJi a sigh of relit f, and back ho went
) tiri^li bis nap.
Walking the s'reelR by day or in his
fid at night no citizen could shake oil
Le fact llmt tl.o city was under the
Vdeial nuns, 8i:d that the next missile
light, claim him as its victim. Men
fleeted a bravado which they were far
rooi feeliug. As the days passed and
Irant extended his lines and mounted
eavier guns many houses were entirely
eserted, and certain streets were ai2c>st
constantly under lire.
Not a Nice Place to Live in.
Oshimft, ono of tho largest of
he inlands between the south coast
f Japan and tho east coast of
'ormcKa, has lately been visited and
partially described by ])r. L Dodeiein.
It is subject to nrolougrd and
iolent typhoons. Besides what appear
0 be the aborigines, it is mnamreu i>y
lie morn robus; aud better proportioned
Japanese. The tormer havo a
iarrow face and pointed chin. Their
yes aie large, their lips thin, and the
nidge of the nose convex. All the
io<ly is protected with thick hatr like
hat which distinguishes the Ainos
The language is a sort of Japanese diaect.
Excej t some v< nerat ion paid to
1 departed relative, the author could
lot find that they had any religion.
M though the population is 50,000, there
s not a pri-st or temple on the island.
L'ho plaque of the island is a snake
railed "liabu." It is amphibious, pnrluing
eels in the streams and climbing
,ri'es to strike its prey on Jund with
- qual facility. Death is inevitable
* ^ A. ft* . J
'roiu its i^rcKe Tiniess uie part, unecieu
r>e instantly cut out ?>r tlio Jiailt irself
impnlated. Villages htivo been almnioned
wliere the habu prevails. The
launna of the island is Loncho in char
icter generally. No other travele
from the West has hitherto described
Dshima. )
y
--v-c^y-r Jv'-T
SCIENTIFIC FAIiMING.
The ItriuilloH of "Mountain Sl(lr"-Mr.
Theodore llnvenieyer'*; Grcnt Experiment
In the Iltiinupn Valley*
" Mountain Side," the farm of Mr.
Theodore A. Ilavemeyer, of New York,
lies in Bergen county, New Jersey,
twenty-nine miles from New York city,
in the benntifiil Ramapo valley, which
at this point is scarcely a mile wide.
Through the furm, from north to south,
flows the Ramapo river. "Mountain
Side" comprises six hundred acres,
three hundred of which lie in the valley
and are under cultivation, and the
remainder on tbc sides of the mountains,
which at ihis point rise to the
height of about six hundred feet. The
farm is under the superintendence ana
management of Mr. John Mayer, an
educated farmer, who learned his art in
the State of Rhode Island, and who is
assisted by a foreman, and employe in
the management of the farm from thirty
to forty men. who ar? all comfortably
I cared for in suitable cotta?6s. In the
construction of the buildings an average
number of seventy-live men were
I constantly employed lor a year and a j
half.
The main road from Sufferns to
Pompton passes almost through the j
center of Mountain Side, from north to i
south. Mr. Havemeyer's barn, dairy1
and silos are comprised in one building, j
forming tho letter T. The barn proper ;
stands east and west, and contains the i
cattle-floor, the hay loft, feed-bins a d i
manure-cellars. Tho south wing con
tains the ice-house, dairy, engine-room
and quarters for the dairyman. In the
noith wins are the silos. The length
of I lie baru from east to west is 203
feet, its ividth forty-four feet; the length :
from north to south, including the diary :
and silos, is 263 feet, the south end
being thirty-one feet wide, and thci!
north end, or silos, forty feet wide, j
Beneath the barn on each side and directly
under the cattle are the manurecellars,
each fourteen feet in width and j
180 in length. Under the center of the
barn and 3urrounded by the manure ,
ho/la 4e n rnnm fnv Vooninir rnnta ISO '
feet long and fifteen feet wide, with '
stone walls and cemented aides i.nd ;
bottom; this root cellar is thoroughly|
ventilated by flues of its own, qnite dis-j
connected from those for the manure '
cellar aud for the cattle floor above, j
At the extreme west eud of the
barn cellar, between the two
cartways, is built a cistern of ce- j
men ted work 53 feet long, 35 feet wide
and 12 feet deep, having a capacity of
35 000 gallons of water, which is supplied
from the river. From this great i
cistern, into which, also, the water from |
the barn roofs can be carried at will, a |
steam pump raises water to two large i
tanks hi{/h up in each end of the main |
barn, and from these tanks,, giving an i
excellent head, water is supplied by a
system of pipes to all parts of the
various buiidiDgs. Bac.c of this cistern |
stands tho gas machine, which supplies j
the house and all the buildings with
light. Entering the main floor of the j
barn one is struck with its immensity of
size, its cleanliness, and the absence of
nil T fr ia A O fouf Tnti^ i n
ttll UUUIOi XV 10 1VIWV II 4UD J U LUU j (
clear, and has two ranges of stills, one ' (
on either side, numbering in all !)8,
while the distance between the stalls
aDd the center is 13 feet. These stalls !
are 5 feet long and 3 feet 6 inches wide,
with a gutter 1 foot 6 inches! (
wide and i inches in depth, running in ' i
the rear 5 feet from the head of tne,
stalls. Behind the stalls is a passage-' ]
way 8 feet wide, extending along the ! ]
aides of the bain. At the end of the | j
row of htalls on tho right are 10 box ' j
stalls, 12 feet long, 8 feet wide and 4
feet 4 inches hi#b, in which at all j <
times are kept some of the most valu-1 i
able animals, and otl.erM, when they are j <
calving. In the center of the tloor, ex- i
tending the whole length of the barn (
and connecting with the silos, is a rail
road track. The height of the barn, j
from the floor to the hay-mows, is 10 ' 1
feet; tho latter are 13 feet high, and (
extend the length of tho barn, to the i
roof, having a capacity tor 300 tons of ,
bay. The barn has tho best system of ,
ventilation and lighting which can be t
devised. Both in winter and summer i i
the uir here is pure, and almost free i
from odor. '
The engine-room occnpi<;s that por- j <
tion of the south wing which lies im- j,
mediately contiguous to the main i i
building, and is 30 feet long by \ (
29 feet wide, with a floor above' ]
for storing machinery, etc. In it is ; ,
an engine of fifteen-horse power; the j \
pump which forces the water from the | <
liver to tho cistern in the barn having ; j
a capacity of 1,500 gallons per hour, j Adjoining
tho engine ro; m is tho ice- j
house, which is 3G feet lout? and i
'27 feet wide, with a storage i
capacity of 400 tons of ice. Beneath j
the ice-house, on a level with with the (
ground in the reur?the building being ! j
on the'&lopo of a hill?is a summer h
dairy, which has the same dimensions as i
the ice house, except the height, which
is 10 feet from tho flocr to the ceilmer*' j
The floor and sid^s are tiled, and the ! j
ceiling is finished with ut>h boards, i,
planed, tongued aud grooved. The >
facilities for ventilation are sneh j i
that tho temperature con be i j
kept ut about *10 degrees in I
summer, and regulated at will. Adjoining
is a room on a level with the J
summer dairy, 49 feet' long and
'29 feet wide. It forms a base-1
ment, while above it is the winter i
dairy of the same dimensions. The j
two are connected by an inclosed elevator,
and also by a staircase. The i
Moor, sides and ceiling of the winter
dairy nro also tiled ir variegated colors |
und arti.-dic figures, affording, with the '
blue and white tints, a most agreeable
and r?stful picture. These rooms, '
titled so as to cream the milk by cold;
air alone, or by deep setting in water, I
have capacity for handling the m:ik of
four hundred cows. A shaft fromt lie j
engine-room runs through the dairy!
work room, so that jjowcr can be hud }
whenever <ies?red. Above is the dairy- i
man's residence. ! <
The north wing of tho barn, devoted J .
exclusively to the silos, is 1)9 feet lon^ ]
and 40 feet wide. The peculiarity',
of this part of tho work is that the |<
silos, although 25 ffet deep, stand en- j .
tirely above ground. Upon a massive j j
stonu foundation crncrefo walls 2 1-2 j,
l'eet thick weie constructed, formiug ! j
originally four large t=ilos; two at the ! ]
south end are 5'J feet long and 11 feet i ,
wide, their ends against the main barn, j ]
.tud two ?5 feet long and 12 feet wide !
extend ucrctss the north end of the tilo ;,
wing. All a?e icclost d and covered by j,
a strong frame building, its exterior '
uniform with the rest of the bam. The '
lilliug is done from the outside, ihe j
cutters standing upon a concrete pave- j
inent east of the north wing, carriers i,
conveying the cut stulf through large i,
doors 2") feet above, and into ariy com- j
partment desired. The ensilage is cut i
oi.t from tho top, and with hoKtiug apparatus
carricd to the tramway on the I
feeding floor.
Afr H-ivj?mnvf>r's barn for bulls is I
divided ii)to live compartments, 12 by j
12, each connecting with a yard 25 by |
12. There is also a larpo yard on out |
si.de of thin building. Tho calf pen is
12li feet, long by 115 wide, and is divided
int .) four compartments, it is designed I
for tho care of calves after they are >< j
month old. Etch compartment will
house twelve to twenty calves. In front, i
is \ yard for the heifer calves. 100 feet. I
by 100, and another for bulls, f>0 by 50 |
The latter has four comp .rtments, 25
by 12, with stalls 12 by 12. Mr. Have- ;
uieyer raises all his c lives. In front of j
the chiek^n-house, tvhich contains 100 !
light Bvahmas, is a yard 150 feet .oug, i
divided into ten cmipartun-nts rnnnin j
lengthwise of the yard 8 feet wide, of!
boards 3 feet 8 iuch.s high, and wire 3 j
feet, above. The interior of the house i
is divided into ten compartments, 10 In j
8 wirli a l-.iilI liinuMiir through the cen j
for 8 foot witlo. Tim height is 2'> feet, j
Th>> pippr* rv is dividi d into 20 styes,
each 8 by 10 frtrt, mid contains 10 htye>
on each hide, each opening into a yard
of the same dimensions. Mr. Havemoyer
raises hogs principally for home
line. Under the hogpen is a eelltir 80
bv 2G ft-et, with solid stone walN, into
which the manure drops, and into
which that from the stables is carted
oily; 50 hogs are kept in this cellar tod
work tho manure over. They get
enough feed from it, with the addition
of a email quantity of skimmed milk,
to keep thpm fat. Among the hogs are
70 of the Yorkshire breed and some
Chester Whites. One hundred head of
Southdown sheep are also kept on the
farm for home use.
Tbere are twenty working horses,
comprising as fin a lot of agricultural
and draft horses as can be found. Tbev
are kept for the work of the farm, beside
one yoke of Hereford oxen. The
work horses are kept in box stalls, untied.
Mr. Mayer says that he wants
his horses to sleep as comfortably as
his men, and finds that it pays to afford
them a box stall. They do more work
nrifl Irnpn eaciipr. Wliilft nil tllfi horses
are high-spirited and well bred, they
are made, by care and gentle treatment,
kind and docile.
Mr. Havemever now has ninety-eight
Jersey cows and heit'era (every auimal
of which is entered - in the herd register
of >he American Jersey cattle clu?>),
and by next spring will have 150. He
has stable room for 200, and will keep
that number of animals. The intention
is to have 100 head of cows, which,
with the calves and bulls, will equal
about 200 head, and to hold an annual
sale at the farm or elsewhere for the
disposition of the surplus.
The feeding place in front of the
cows is upon the floor, without any
other arrangement, in order that the
cattle may obtain their feed clean, and
that no particles shall get into corners
and sour and injure it. The cattle are
watered by means of a trough, which
can be raiped or lowered at will, and is
supplied from the tank above. When
it is desired to water them, the troughs
or/i Inmrwil r>nrl trlipn Tint, in Tiso thflv
are raised to the top of the stable,
Every cow is cleaned daily with a cnrry
comb and brash. They are treated with
absolute kindness, and gentleness. A
.laily record is kept of the milk yield o
every cow. The calf is taken from the
cow when three days old, the cow beiDg
tied up in her place in the stall.
The milk, perfectly sweet, is heated
tip to ninety degrees and fed at this
heat, which is the same as the original
temperature when taken from the cow.
The calf is given milk, at first four I
quarts every day. in three feedings,
morning, noon and night, incieasing
the quantity as the calf grows. It is
kept in a stall until ten days old, and
then turned out in the morning to ob
tain the benefit of the sun. At a month
old it is turned into the pasture. Until
four months old it is fed with milk, at
the end of that period being given
some ground oats. Each calf is kept j
separate until it is three or four months j
a1<1 P.rvnra nvo nl lanrn/1 ct \ infn I lin
Vivti VUTO UA.CJ UAXV ?TV/U IV ^ UilU 111V I
yard every day, winter or summer, two
or threo hours, for exercise. A month ,
before calving all rutal i.s taken away j
from the cows, and they are fed on
three quarts of ground oats pjr day, in
two feeds, with all the hay ov ground
feed they want. They are put iuto box
stalls ten days befoie calving, in order :
to get accustomed to the place. This
system is found to prevent milk fever.
Mr. Mayer, who has had the care of
cattle for many years, has never had a
case of milk fever.?Francis D. Moultvn.
Vera ('ruz.
Thb city itself, compact and solid, j
ttith a line of domes and steeples blackened
with time, roofs of substantial red J
tiles, plentifnl balconits, and bits of;
wall tinted blue, green ar.d pink, is '
liko a little Venice. A large crane j
bangs out from the end of an iron pier, j
and the fancy hooks on to it at onco? |
Lhe terminus of the English railway j
which ia to bear ns away up the extraardinary
slope from the hot lands?the
tierras calientes?-to th6 mysterious in- |
lerior and th capital.
in an existence or going on ionr nun- j
3red years VeraCrcz Los arrived at a '
population of seventeen thousand. The I
interior view of the place noes nut belie ;
the promise of the first glimpse. The |
shurches aio.,of irregular, picturesque i
ihapce, with nice 1 tells. The principal i
one, in a lit:le shaded plaza, has a j
:lome of colored mo3aie tiles, which I
?hine in the sun?a style we shall j
?eo plenty of further on-. The
principal shops have a well-furnished j
xir, especially in the branches of gro- [
3eries and heavy hardware, and the !
snstoin-honse square is muffed to re-:
pletion with cotton bales, railroad iron
iind miscellaneous goods waiting trans- ;
portation. The principal street is i
culled De la Independetcia, and leads
to a short concrete promenado, bordered :
with stone benches and palm trees. It j
is early discovered that the Mexican is ,
rery patriotic. Ho names his streets ;
lfter his battles, as particularly the I
Cinco do Mayo, fought at Puebla against j
the French, and even has a v.*ay of joining
the na i.es of his heroes to those of i
cities. Thus Puebla is Puebla de Zara- i
?oza, commandant in the same great
battle of the ofch of May; and Oaxacais j
Daxaca of (President) Juarez.
ih-ass grows in the joints of the stones |
in the minor streets, and open gutters (
ran in the center. One might be in i
onMi Thilinn r?it,v as Matitna. The
:opi(olt;x of which travelers have written :
'it on long, straight waterspouts pro-1
[ecting from the houses. They a?o^
[urge, raven black, dignified, and alofr
there against the deep blue sky have an i
ippearanco ot carved architectural !
ornaments. There are street cleaniug :
^epurtnionts elsewhere which are far [
le^s ornamental, at aDy rate. Notices j
of a bull-tight for the coming Sunday i
ire posted on the dead walls. A tram-:
?ar of a peculiar pattern ruus out to the |
open fields where there is a dancing I
place and ball grouud. There is a view j
in passing of the cemetery, which should !
bo a leading institution indeed at Vera j
[Jruz; a d yet when one is on the i
grouud, as is apt to bo the case, there [
ire mitigations to be found even of '.he j
terrors of yellow fever. Pall-bearers in
?loomy weeds are naturally ex peered to
form a considerable part of the populu- ;
Lion, just us murderers and kidn.-iperii!
?f all sorts uru expected to al :ou-:d else-'
where. B'lt an Ani'-ricin n sid mc as- j
>'ired me that in four yeai?: bo bad j"
known but one of our countrymen to |
.iie of the vomiro, as ii; is called, and ;
very few to nave it. Its chief havoc is J
imong the poor and badly nour- j
isbed. The Annrican cjlihuI, him-j
<elf a physician, anil a resident of j
twelve years' standing, is strenuous in j
his views as to tlio barm done to the J
L-ommercial interests of both countries 1
by igDorauce and misrepresentations on
the subject. It is certain that the local
authorities do not regard the disease :>s
contagious, putting those ufllicted siue
l>y side with surgical patients in the
hospital; from winch it hectics that it
the case were really looked into, there j
may bo as little need of the annovii.g
quarantine against yellow fever, at -east
of this vurietv, as if it were simple ague.
?Harpers
ii
Huge Icebergs.
Advices from Newfoundland record I
the appearance oil' St. John of the j
" vanguard ioobeiv of the huge Arctic |
armada now hailing southward al?-n?
the coasts of Labrador and Newfound
land.'' No less than twenty-three hug.masses
of glacial drift ic^ are reported
to havo been seta oil' the northern
shores of the island slowly, but snrelv,
drilling southward acro.?s the track of
vessels plying between Europe and
America. The first berg sighted oil
St. John was estimated to be uot les*
than a quarter of a mile in length and
three hundred feet in height above
water. As two feet ol' ieo are under
water for every oue above, the total
height of this huge mass must have
been nine hundred feet. Jls form uas
that of a vast- plateau rising not more j
than a fi w feet from the surface of the !
Ren, and extending about two hundred j
feet from the southern side, with a high
range of iee peaks suddenly rising out j
of tbo plain. The rare at which this j
huge nmss of iee drifted to the south* j
ward against a be id-wind was estimated
at two and three-fourth nrilc< per hour.
Commanders of vessels crossing the
Atlantic will need to keep a good lookput
for tho-o invaders from the Acetic
regions. Tne powerful electric headlights
borne by mosa of the large passenger
steamers wi.l render good service
in enabling their presence to bo
detected.
* '? ^,,-VT '
DAVID A VP GOLIATH.
The Well Known Biblical Story In n New
Form.
Hamilton W. Pierson, D. D., haspublislierl
a book of reminiscences of the
Southwest. The author gives thiliteral
report of a sermon by a loca
preai'lier:
" Las1' week, my brethrin, as I was
a-readin' my Bible, I found a story of a
big ti lit (I Samuel, ivii). It was
powerfnl interestin', and I studied it
most, all the week. There was tw
urmies campin' on two mountains right
fomenst each other; ..nd a holler and.
I reckon, some good bottom laud and a
medder lot lyin* between 'em. In one
of the armies there was a big feller?a
whoppin,' great big feller?and every
3-? i J. J IV ? .
I uay iiu wenii uuwu iuiu tuo mcuuci-iui
and looked up the hill to t'other camp
and just dared 'em. He told 'em to
pick their best man and send him
down and he'd fiprht him. And he jesstrutted
aronnd there in his soger close,
and waited for 'em to send on their
man. And such soger clos& I never
heard tell on afore.
He had a brass cap and brass trousers,
and a coat made like mail ba<?s where
they are all ironed and riveted together.
But the fellows in t'other camp jest clean
flunked. They darn't fight the big feller,
nary one of 'em. They jest all
sneaked away, and the big feller he
| went back to camp. But he didn't
quit tbar, the big feller didn't. He
was spilin' for a fight and he was bound
to have it. He jest went down into the
botton land, into the medder-lot, ever?
day, mornin' and evenin', and dared ,
'em and djrea 'em. I tell you he i
pestered 'em mJghtly. The old feller, ;
Saul, the gineral, he felt more chawed
up and meaner than the sogers, and,
when he couldn't stan' it no longer, he
told the boys that if any of 'em would
go down and lick that big feller he'd give i
him his gal and a right smart chance of
plunder. But they was all so skeer'd
that even that didn't start one of 'cm.
The bip: feller went down and dared
'em and pestered 'em more'n a month
?forty days, the Bible says. I don't
know what they'd a done if it hadn't
a-been that a peart little feller had
come down to' camp one day to fetch
same extra rations to his three big
brothers that their old dad sent to 'em
from home. Kind old pap he was and j
Bharp, too, for he tent along a big
present to the boys' cap'en. 'Well, jest j
as the little feller drove up, they was all
gwine out to tight, and the little feller
left his traps with the driver, ard !
legged it after the sogers, and told his ,
big brothers howd'y. Right thar the
old big feller came out and dared 'em
again, and they were all so skeer'd that
they jest run like mad. The little
feller heered him and then went back
into camp and heered all the sogers
talking about him, and what the old
gineral would give to have hira licked.
He asked 'em a heap of questions about
it all, and his big brother he gut mad
at him, and twitted him about keeping
sheep, and gave him a right smart ot
sass. He was plucky, bnt you see he
had to stan' it, 'cause 'twas his big
brother. Big brothers are mighty
mean sometimes
"But the little feller talked a heap
with the other sogers, and they told
tbe old gineral ab mt him, and he told
them to tell the little feller to come
and see him. The little feller was
mighty plucky, and he jest up and told
tbe old Gineral Saul that he'd tight the
big feller! The gineral looked at the
handsome little feller?he was real
handsome?and ses he. kinder softly, I
reokori, and shakin' his head: 'It's too
big a job; you're only a chunk of a boy,
and he's an old fighter.' The little j
feller t>pnnked up and told the oid
gineral that he'd one b'ar fight and he
had killed the b'ar. He said there was
an old lion and a b'ar got among his
dad's sht-ep, and was gwine off with a
iunib.'-He broke fbr'im, and as soon
as he met up with the old b'ar, he
lnmmM 1,im +JII flit, h'ar fnrnfld on him I .
J-.4 ^.iU , ,
for a hug; but he got one hand into the (
long lia'r, under his jaw, and he lamm'd ]
l>im with the othe'n till he was dead. (
He'd killed the lion and the b'ar, and (
he know'd he was enough for the old j
big feller.
" Then the little feller talked raal I f
religious to the old gireral. Ycu see L
he'd got religion afore that, and he j
knowed that the Lord would help a I J
feller, if he was all right, and got into ;
a tight place. He told Gineral Saul j
that the Lord had made him mighty >
supple, and looked out for him when i ]
the old lion and b'ar tried to get their j i
paws into him; and he frnew'd He'd ]
see him through the fight with the old j (
big feller; for he was just darin' 'em ' j
and pesteriu* 'em to make game of re-1 j
ligion. When the old mineral seed be i ,
was eo plucky and religious, too, ho ,
knowed them's the kin' that fit power- ]
ful, and ho told him to go in and he j
made a little prayer for him hisself.
Then the old gineral put his own ]
soger close on the little feller, and (
strapped his sword on to him. But they j ^
were all a heap too big and he shucked i .
'em off directly, aud made for a dry }
branch down in the bottom. Then he i (
hunted fivo little rocks, smooth as a |,
hen ogg, pnt 'em in a little bag where [ J
he carried his snack when no was i,
a-tendin' tlie slieep, got ms snng nxeu i
ail right, and hurried up to meet tlie 1 j
old big feller iii the medder lot. When j (
ho seed him coming he was powerful I ]
mad thev'd sent down such a little j j
feller, and jawed awful. But the little i ]
feller jasfc talked back religious, and I j
kept his eyes peeled. Aud I reckon the i (
big feller couldn't a be'n a lookn.' I've i j
studied a heap on it, and I just know the I <
big feller couldn't a be'nalook'n; for the ,
little feller got out hio sling and drew
away, and shied a little rock at him, (
and lie popped him, aud down he turn- (
bled. Then the little feller rnshod up ,
and mounted him, jest as an old hunter ,
loves to get on a b'ar after he's shot! i
him; and ho out with tho big feller'a ^
long sword and off with his head. : ^
1'lien it was them Philistine sinners' | j
turn to b? skepr'd, and they broke for j ,
the brush; and all of them chii'en of [.,
Israel fellers jnst shouted and chased i (
'em clean over the mountain into a val- ^
ley, and then, com'd back and got all j f
their catnp plunder. | ?
" My brethrin, that's tlie best story of j (
a fi:rht I ever read after, and yon can't,
buy no better storybook than this very !
Bible." *
Had a Hallucination. f
They were sitting beside the grate I
when itll at once she looked up and j <
said :
"Richard, do yon believe that peo- \
pie ever 1 tbor nn ler hallucination ?" '
' Oi course they do," bo replied. 1
Iwas just reading of a husband <
who went to bed supposing he had $20 1
in his wallet, but on awakening in the <
morning "here was but 818 He at <
onee charged his wifo with robbine ]
him, and a separation resulted. Wasn't 1
it awl ill?" <
"Yes, rather." <
"If vo'i should suspect me of getting '
up in tlw; night and goiDg to your wal- <
!er, that would be awful, too, wouldn't 1
it?" <
"Not any too awful, fir I haven't 1
had cent in it since I can remember," :
he sai.l as lie turned to his paper.
n-oa oil ? n want-cfi tn know.
She got up thafcni/htaud wentthrou-h
the hind pocket of his pant?, and n^st
morning tie hail a hallucination that he
was Si short. ? Detroit Free Pr(ss.
Pat's Pledge.
Gougli tells this story about an Irishman
to whom a physician said:
"Tini, tliiej won't d(?; yon must take
warning from the fate of your friend,
O Siianghnessy. Only three nights ago
he ramr li<?uie much soberer than you
ar<\ but in attempting to blow out a
caudlo Liy breath took tire, and he exploded
blew up-so his friends in
three days have not been able to scrape
enough of him together to hold a wake
over."
" An1 do you mane to tell me that he
bu t up," said Tim.
inaeeu i no, upon my uouur.
Tim kmuI lie would t;ike tbo pledge at
r,uefi, and lie did so in the fallowing
form:
" 1 swear never to blow out a candle
while I am drunk again."
HEALTH HL>TS.
A simple remedy for neuralgia is to .
apnly prated horseradish to the part >2
afficted.
For corns tie a bit of black silk cloth
around tho toe, or fasten it irfside the xjj
stocking if the corn is on the bottom of '|g
the foot. P feems a simple remtdy, ,y;5|
bnt is very efficient.
Fonr years since, say* the American Ag .
ricutturist, we recommended the use of
bi-carbonate of soda, that is, the common
cookinpr Poda, for most kind of barns.
Since then frequent experiments and ^Sk
observations, the opinions of physicians' .
and the best medical journals have more .--el
than confirmed all we then paid. As
bnrns and scalds are always liable to oc- \|j
oar, and as this remedy, though simple,
has proved to be extraordinarily nseful,
it should be fixed in the minds of ('%
every one. The sodn, and the carbonic J
acid so readily set at liberty from it,
have ancBsthetic, antiseptic and disin- .
fecting properties?all highly beneficial
for bnrns. For slight burns cover all * *?&?
the injured parts v with a layer of
powdered scda. For deeper bnrns'
bat where the skin is not broken, dip
linen rag-> in a solution made by dissolving
about one-third of an ounce of .^Ijg
the so 'a in a pint of wa'er; lay the - .
rags on and keep them moist with the SffiH
solution. For very Bevere bnrns, followed
by suppuration (formation of
pup), apply the rags in the same way, Js
keeping them moist; but frequently ex- .
changing tnem-. wnen ary ior iresa - ^
ones, and carefully wash off, with the '
soda solution, any matter that has "jk?
accumulated underneath, so that it 0*7
not be absorbed into and poiscn the -'UM
blood. Leading European medical . frfm
journals give nnneious instances In . -'frfl
which, by the aho?e tieatmetli exten* ?}M
aive burns of very seven,* cbarnc have.
healed speedily, leaving little scar. ' <-$?1
Fed Throngh a Hole in His Stomach,
One of the most remarkable surgical
operations ever performed in America is :
described in a paper written by Dr. -
Frank J. Lutz, surgeon of the Alexias ''X
Brbthers' hospital. The subject, E. --/tM
Hunecke, a German tailor, fifty-eight
years old, who resided on 8outh Tenth $?58
street, commenced in July, 1880, to ex- - 'V?
Derience considerable difficulty in
swallowing his fjod, which grew so " ^
serious finally that he had fainted
several times from the pain. On October
28 he consulted Dr. Lutz, who, '?
after examination, found an incipient ?-|?
stricture of the lower part of the esophagus,
probably malignant He ad- ^
vised the patient, who was very intelli- "<i
gent and of a philosophic turn of mind,
of the nature of the disease and its in*
evitable issue?death "by starvation. It J1
tvas explained to him that his life could . -3
be prolonged and made comfortable,.
hut that his disease was not curable; '*53
and aft*r the different methods by
which he could be fed weie explained, iv||
lie pronounced in favor of a "gastric fls- /ggB
tula," which, being interpreted, means jiigjm
nothing more nor less than a hole cut iv$|
into bis stomach, through which tho ' i
food he could not swallow could be '?|j
introduced. The operation was per- vj|
formed by Dr. Lutz, agisted by Drs. ^?3
Wesseler, Hickman and Fuhrmann. A :'
;wo-inch incison was made parallel
ffith the cartilage of the eighth rib,
through which the incision was made' ^
into the stomach, and stopped with a *
plug of carbolixed ganze. After eight
lays the wound had healed by granuiarion,
and food was introduced through
the opening threw times a day. After >3j
food, whether solid or liquid, had been gg
thoroughly masticate I or insalivated by " 'jJ^k
Iwi nationt onat if. inin a rnbber '..L^
tube, through which it was conveyed
into the opening. Dr. Lutz observed
that as soon as the patient began to N^|i
masticate" bis food, the gastric juipe3jwed
freely through the fistulous
Dpening. By this means he was kept
ilive 80v?u months, long after the nicer
jf the esophagus had made it impossiDie
for him to swallow anything, fluid .'Cp.
jr solid. He died finally of exhaustion,
complaining of a violent thirot, which
lothing could quench
With a single exception life was ens;ained
longer in this instance than of .a-3S
my other kind on record.? St. Louis
Republican. , '-&SO
Dr. Holland as a School-Master.
The experience of the late Dr. J. G.
Etolland as superintendent of scboole at V;,^'
Picksburg is thus recounted by Edward M
Eggleston in the Cc?twy: At the end
)f the tedious river voyage ho found 'Vp
,bat the publio schools which he had - a.
seen called upon to superintend had ; .~j
lot yet been organized, and that, be- 1
J - -3 I ? 4 Aiwla ilmw VtOf?
pona a ueparnuruu iui ^uic, ^?v?
ao existence. Dr. Holland was warned v
that discipline was ont of the question v
?that if he exacted obedience he would ^
be put out by the larger boys. There
snsued a stern fight for supremacy between
him and his rebellious papiis, in '
which his quick decision of character >
gave him the mastery. Even at a later ^
lay than this, such a thing in the f.
Southwest as the shooting ot a school- ;
master for wlnppiDg Ja boy was not 4
unknown, and it is a wonder that Dr.
Hollaed escaped violence. Nothing but
liis superior quickness and unfaltering
courage saved him. Once the larger - V
!>nvs resolved on revenge. One who
lail suffered a sharp punishment at his
lands provided himself with a club,
rod, backed by a crowd of burly, over- />
irrown school-fellows, wailed to attack
;he teacher on his way to the postoffice.
3eeing the r>rowd, nnd knowing its
meaning, Dr. Holland fixed his steady
3ark ejes on the one who held the
jlub, clenched his fists, and walked
straight forward through the midst of
:he group, which melted slowly away
it the approach of the terrible master.
5Vhen the rebels had dispersed, the
;eacher found the prints of his nails in
;he palms of bis hands. Though he staid
n Vick^burj? but fifteen months he
nade a revolntion in its educational
jysteru. In less than a year from his 3
;oming the imvato schools were all 'fc
?iven up, except one which deiived its
support from out-of-town pupils. The
ichools were graded and wen taught in
jne building under his supervision.
?
Las Vegas.
A letter from Las Vegas, New Mexico,
?vs : At no poiut visited have we b^en
nore surprised at tbe extent and activity
;han of La* Vei'as. It has a populaion
of about 7,000?one hiif white and 4
he o'her half native Mexicans, 81awards,
Indians and negioes?all badly
cnixed. It has two live, seven-column
Jaily papers, gas, ttreet railway, and
ivater works well under way. The
jrilina8 river runs through the center
)f the town, or be ween old :>nd new
Las Vegas. 8ix miles above the city,
n the mountains, on the hanks of the
jalinas are the hot springs which are
emptied into the river, rendering the
water uiifit for city use. So the enter- ^
terprising inhabitants of thia plucky
sity have built a rock dam across the
Salinas river three mile ahove the springs
iud are laviug large iron pipes fiom there
to Las Vegas to supply the city with ?
wuter from a pure mou-itain stream.
And it mu^t be recollected that all this
is l>ein? donn by one-half of the citizens,
hs thrt other half are poor, worthless
aud devoid of all enterprise. Half
at least of this city is built i f adobe or
sun drieJ brick. " It is said that our
Yankee population from the States cannot
successfully m:ike these brick. They
are eighteen inches long, nine wide ahd
four thick. They are furnished and
laid in the wall at*S20 ver 1,000. When
it is recollected that one of tiitse brick
? ? ?i i a i :-i
is as large as ei?riH Kiiu-nuriie.u unw,
it will be seen that 1 000 brick will
build an average bouse for a Mexican.
8nt there are large warehouses and
hotels, three stories high, built of this
adobe. The roofs of these houses are
ul o mode of dirt or some kind of brick,
nearly Hat. As it seldom rains here,
little efToit is made to make roofs to
shed water. Many of these low, dirty
and uiifiiahtly habitations are occupied
by wealthy families, with rich lace curtains
to the little windows. The "natives
never baild their houses more
than one story high?and a 1 w story
at that.
-