The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, August 02, 1882, Image 1

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?V . - ? mmmm*"*mmmm1^???T?^^ ABBEVILLE PRESS AND BANNER! " m ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ' "" ? BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW* ABBEVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 2, 1882. NO. 9. VOLUME XXVII. . Here's to Our Slarrj Flag. Here's to our fetarry t!?g : :>u i....iter wtiere it fly. Over the polar gnowc, tmrler tho tropic sky, Out on the silent prairie, or on the reBtleae wave, Over the lenrly can.p, (.vcrihcn'srchirpl rave Or in the busy city, v. hot e'er men fling it forth; Is 4he East, "or the West, or the Scntb. or the Jiorth, here's to the starry flag, The flap that flies above us ! Here's to the land we love ! Here's to the hearts that love us ! SereV our starry flag ! Over our homes it flies ; fOh, dear is it to our hearts, and pleasant unto our eyes; Over the little children, over the maiden sweet, Over the toiling men in the city's crowded street. Over the court and market, over the rich and poor, Fair Is our flag of freedom, beautiful everywhere. Here's to our starry flag, The flag that flies above us ! Here'* to the laud we love ! Here's to the hearts that love us ! If you would know how dear, wander away I irom nome; Fan far east to other lands, just for a season roam, 'Suddenly wake to see, some lovely autumn day, The atarry bunting flying free over New York bay; Oh then with throbbing heart, oh then with happy tear, You'll say: "Dear flag of my country?dear flag, so dear, so dear 1" Here's to the starry flag, The flag that flies above us! Here'8 to the land we love i Here's to the hearts tliat love us ! ?Harprr's Wetkly. ? ?5 <& SUMMER IDYL, j Tbetrain was approaching Rhinebeck Miss Barrow raised her eyes from the novel between which and the river, the cloudless sky and the green banks opposite, fresh in all the freshness of early Jnne, she had been desultorily dividing ber attention, and her maid began gathering np her wraps. One or two passengers in the same car did the same for theirs, and amon^ them a young man of twenty-eieht or so, with a fair mnstache, who had traveled opposite Miss Barrow frr m New York, absorbed in a scientific magazine. Hej was a handsome fellow, but more (lis j tinguished-looking than hai.dsome, and j dreeeed with qniet, unimpeachable j correctness. These two qnalities. Mips I Barrow had noticed in a casual way when her eye happened once or twice to fall on her fellow-travt lt-r, for the thought a great deal of both of tbpm The latter, indeed, is a subject to which wrmen pay more attention than men are ware. As the joung lady alighted on the platform at Rhinebeck an urbane servant met lier and announced that Miss HamCrelej's carriage was waiting and that Miss Hamersley regretted not 'ogling strong enough to drive down her.?elf. The man remained bthind to see t.-> the luggage aid the carriage drove off. In ..rounding the corner to the other stde of ?he platform Miss Barrow saw again i fl T ieilf'W ir veier wim iub lair u uv | tache; he was upeafeing to Miss Ham-1 ersley's man, the latter having possessed i Ihimself of his portmanteau, and as they Tawsed she heard him say: ' Nevermind; I'll take another vehicle." AppareDtly. then, the gentleman was a guest of Miss Bamertley. Two or three years before the knowledge would probably have afforded Mi?s Barrow some gratification, very natural under the circumstances. The prospect suggested possibilities which would cer- i tainlyhr.ve added an unexpected zest to ht r solitary vjsit to an elderly maiden lady in df-licate health at an isolated untry bouse. But a disappointment "which 7VJisH Barrow had experienced not c inou 4 lirAti nrl* o tran tn oliom fiVia had been engaged, had ohanged all such filings As she herself had said to her old fripnd, Miss Hamrrslev: "1 tot only feel as if I n< ver acain would care for an* rr.an, but the whole sex lias grown indifferent to me." Tue. drive was quite a long one, and the sun was shooting ra^s of slanting light between tl e trees and ecroKS the lawns ?f ti e well-kept grounds when the < Id Hamert-lev mansion came in &ight. On the viue clad porch stood Mies Ilameisley herself, looking like a picture of Revolutionary times with her Mnall, delicate face, her *ray silk dresfi and wealth of puffed white hair. 51 Well, my young friend," 6he said, " so I have yon at last Let me look at yon." She raised Mits Barrow's veil and kipped her cheek. " As pretty as fyer. Now le.t me take yon to yonj room?why, what's this? jack Travers, I declarel" It was Miss Barrow's fellow traveler, whote vehicle had followed hers at a little distance, and who now drove np and sprang to the ground " I expected you to-morrow," said Mi68 Hsmersley, laying her band affectionately on the yonng man's shoulder. *' T should huve telegraphed?" "Never mind You're always welcome. Maud. Jet me introduce my nephew, Mr. Travers, Miss Barrow." A few minutes later, when Miss Ham ersley, had joined Maud Barrow in her room she said: "I hope you will like Jack Travers. But I know you will He's a splendid fellow." " 1 daresay I fchall like him," replied the young lady. " I know, of course, that you will tot rxcept in a friendly way, and that'* juf?t why I asked him up while you were he e. The fact is you are very similarly fcituatrd. Jack has not Rotten over an unlucky love affair, and if I had him meet some irl who would have fallen in love with him it would have been a bad thine for the eirl. as it would he a |? bad thing for any man who I should inn vite and who would fall in love with |S you. As it is, you and Jack are both |g invulnerable to the tender passion, and I will be the best of fiiends accordingly. K Ton will pet on nicelj, and yonr viijit ra will be less of a boie than it would be K in the solitary society of an old woman |? like me " || A little later Jack Travers carce upon I hisaunt and asked: "Who is this young lady you have with you, dear aunt?" " 8omo one,", was the reply, " whose H heart is full of a memory?though, 5? really, why she should still think of Hj that brute of a man who treated her 8} so outrageously is a mystery to me? m| and who not only will;uot expect you to ? fall a victim to her charms and begin a Bj flirtation instanter, but would think 9| anything of the sort a great bore. So Bfl you need Dr-t exert yourself." |E "Indeed? Tba''8 a comfort. Bat SB what a singular girl," and if he had Rn spoken his mind he would have added, 9gj "and what a beautiful girl, too," fur ggjg just ihen Maud entered, having laid n| aside her traveling dress and thick voil BS f'-r a long dinner dress of pale blue, fH which showed to remarkable advantage B| the brilliancy and the piquant charm of gw her face; the warm fairness of her BB skin, afid the light glossy brcwn of her Bps soft hair. iff M.ss Eamerley's explanations to both ?81 her guests had the effect of putting (hem thoroughlv at their ease with each fig ether, and the dinner was a gay one. &| Ly the time it was over they bad dis jjygl covered that they had many ideas in SH common, and manyp intsof sympathy. gS .The leng Jane twilight had nut yet faded, and Mies Hamersley suggested Sh that her nephew should take Miss BarKg row to the paiapet to see the view. flg "For she baid, ' I can't go about Hi mrcb, and jou must entertain each BH other." The view was extended, for the Hacafig eraley place stood high. Jack TraverR SS| leaned against the parapot, while Miss BH Barrow looked around her. Suddenly Raj ehe glanoed up and caught his eyes |H fixed on her. EM " I often think what a delightful exjstence yonr aunt's is in this place," she BH t*id. ''there ie tuch a harmony in it. She fite tbo place, and the place fib her " u My aunt is a charming woman. II is a pity she never married." "A pity. I don't see th>it her condi| tion as it is conld be lettered. If she j had married she would have run the chance of getting some ob>tinate man I with not a thouuht in svmiathv with hern, who would i'ave been putting down his foot tier? aliy nud making her Jife a brre." "You don't tafro a sentimental view of marriage," remarked Travers. " No. I urn not (sentimental. Perhaps I um hard." TraveM glanced at lier, with the black | lace sbe had thrown aronnd her head as | a protection trom the dampness clingI ing about her soft, piquant face and ; white throat, and thought she did not I look 80. But Miss Barrow did not seem in! clined to pursue the subject further. j She turned to go back to the house. In ; ili ing so she brushed her fan liom the j parapet. Travers stopped to pick it up. | and noticed that it had a large metal ring attached. Instead of Ujitif? it in Maud's outstreto ed hand he slipped the ring over her wrist. The wrist was very p:etty, and eo was the hand, and Travers experienced a subtle pleasure in performing this familiar little act He glanced up quickly ; lut the young lady's eyes were averted. The next morning Travers proposed to take advantage oi the cool, tine dav for a horseback ride. Miss Barrow was willing, and a couple of hours later they were under way. The roads were in good condition, the air was exhilurat,r.r, HT r\ /ttanl A*T*n V. k AJLIgi ttUU JLUIOB JLlaLUClOlCV O UUiCC'* "Ol v capital. Tue color came into Mmid'fr cheeks and her eyes 6hono like fctars As for Travers, it did not seem to him ihat he had ever enjoyed sach a ridr before. By-and-bye, however, i e 6uid: "Don't you think we had better turn baok, Miss Barrow! It may be too much for you." "Oh, I am not tired. I am thirs'.y, though." Travers looked around him. "I think I could get you a glass of water at that little hou^e on the top of that slope, but I don't like the idea of leaving you alcne.' " Oh, I shall go, too. It will be a ehaDge from riding,''said Maud. "You can tie tbe borses here." The climb proved to be a rougher path than she had imagined, but she would not be persuaded to take Travers' arm. <( r. 11 .1. _ i J i J "i>o, DO, ' sue laugut'u, HUU mwpptsu quietly to one side. In doing so she stumbled over her habit and uttered a little cry of pain. " Mies Harrow ! what is the matter ?' exclaimed Travers. " 1?I'm afraid 1 have sprained my foot. Let us turnback,'' she murmured faintly. She took a step or two, and then stopped again, flushing and palir.g alternately. Travers looked into her face. "You meant," he said, "that you can't walk a step. You must let me carry you." "Oh, uo, no." " Miss Barrow, this is really unrea sonable. I must insist." And without more words he raised her in his arms j and bagan desce: ding the f-lope again, j Maud crimsoned and a faint flush rose j in Travers' cheeks also. The wind blew ! a stiay wi9p of her hair against his face, j and with it the faint perfume of violets i sne naa on ner nanaKercmei. ?neu he reached the foot of the Blope and ; lifted her on her horee his heart was beating rath9r fa6t, and Maud was trembling a little. ' Does your ankle still pain so much?'' he paid, softly. She shook her bead. They rode slowly home through the green fields, almost in silence. Travers, while constantly watobful of bis companion, peemed to be distrait. "I suppose he is thinking of that, pirl be was in love with," said Maud to herself, and for a young lady to whom the masculine sex had grown indifferent she certainly allowed the supposition tc give her a consideiable pang. Mips Barrow, for the next week, lay on a couch which was wheeled from the house to the grounds as she felt inclined j to sir indoors or out. Miss Hamersley | and Travers took turns in rending to J her, bat the latter's office in this respect i was rather a sinecure. He always fouud j after a few moments that it was much j more pleasant 10 have Maud talk to j him, and to be able to look at her. 1 This tendency, indeed, in a few days grew into such a distracting wish to be j always near her that Travers might | have been alarmed had he chosen to j qaeBtion himself and his feelings. But he did not choose to. One warm afternoon he came into the j library, wher^ she lay on a lonnge near the open window, with a cluster o! red j moss-roses in his hand. " They are the first of the season," he said. Mand raised her hand for them, and he stood looking down at her. Sbe wore a thin white dress, and looked prettier than he had over seen her. ! Her cheeks were a little 9ashed, and 1 her hair tossed about a trifle as if she had just been asleep. She seemed loo listless and comfortable to move, but A/1 kint TT7^ f 1) rt k%?i n r\/1 i luouncu uiiu nuuo uukui auu t pressed the roses against her face. Pres- ' en?ly his persistent gaze appeared to j embarrass her, for she said, not a little ' uneasily: "How hot it is! Why don't you eit down?" Travers sat down mechanically, still without speaking. Miss Barrow glanced at him, and her eyes began to sparkle mischievously. " Perhaps I" should not have asked you to sit down, though," she said demurely. "You might have been contemplating a speedy exit for the purpose of smoking a cigar." "I assure you, I was thinking of nothing of the sort, Miss Barrow." " Not thinking of smoking? I fancied there was no hour of the day a'man did' not think of that." "He may make an exception when he . * x_ i_ 1' _ n is in me society 01 lauies. "Indeed he does not, or I have yet to learn it. Oh, women are not of as mnch importance as that to men !' Her tone had changed, and fthe spoke the last words bitterly. ' That is what that brnte of a man she was engaged to has tangbt her,'' thought Travers. " I should like to?" He started up, and completed hi6 pious wish with regard to the said man at the window. But Maud was in a strange mood this afternoon. When she spoke her tone was quite different again. "Are you angry ?" she asked, softly. "Angry?no." ho replied, coming back and standing before her. " How tantalizing you are to-day," he broke out after a pause. 8ho took n > heed. " To show you I did not intend to be rude, I will give you a rose," she said ?"shall I ?" "Yes," he whimpered. " Stoop down,'' she murmured. He knelt beside the lounge, and she passed the stem of the rose through his buttonhole. Her little white fingers were very near his face, and he saw that they began to tremble. Suddenly he caught them both in one of his, and before she could stir, without knowing himself what he was doing, ho threw his arm arouud her and kissed her. The next instant he was on hi? feet Maud, crimson and palpitating, stood before him, supporting herself against the 1' ud?6. "You have insulted me?" "Miss Barrow?Mand ! Forgive me! Pardon me! I did not know what I was dojnir, I love you so 1" "It is an insult," she cried again. L?ave mo?leave me !" And throwing hersell back on the lounge she burst into a passion of tears. Travers, cursing his folly, left the room. That evening he told his aunt he should have to go to New York for a few days. Maud heard the announcement calmly and took leave of him very coolly. During the days that followed sLe never spoke of him to Miss Hamersley, except onoe when, in an olaboiately careless way, she inquired whether the girl to whom Mr. Travers had been engaged was very pretty. On < lie other hand she did not seem at all averse to J hearing her old fiiend's eulogies of her I favorite nephew. This Miss Eamersley ; noticed, as well &s that, as the week c woro on, her young niece grew very t restless aud nervous. But, whatever l f h?r thoughts were, she kept her own \ counsel. c After Travers had been gone a fort- v 1 night Maud came out of thu house ODe : evening toward sundown. She was d slowly crossing the lawn, with her long t dress trailing over the grass, when she r _ .3 i 3 - v : ... J; raised uer eyes anu siw uim h'uiiuju^ v not six feet from her. She fctood qaite t still, not startled; she was too over- n whelmingly fttad for that. She had jant g been thinking of bim?indeed when, for dnys had she not ??and saying to e herself that of courso he wonld not t: come back, that she conld not expect it b when she had dismissed him so summa n rilv; and now there he was b?ore he . i ft Still she spoke lightly as be came for- b' ward and took her hand. "fon reappear like a ghost," she g said. " Did xou sprincr from the ground g or drop from the skies ?" pi Travers laid the hand she had piven ai him on hi* urm and led her toward the d parapet where they had stood together " on the first evening of her arrival. f( When they reached it ho said: " You tc know why I have comp back. Maud. 1 tl love yuu with my whole heart and soul n and strength, anil I have come back to fc tell Tuu so; to tell you that I caunot b live without yon? St p," he con- gi tinned, as sbo was abont to speak, " ? ni know what you will say, that it is too se sudden, tbafc 1 have not known you long enough. Well, I con't ask you to ac- ai cept me now. I will wait?only let me gi think that tou will care a little for me w by-and-liye. Will yon, Mand V" w He leaned over her and looked into bi her eyes. Alas! Maud could have said that she d; cared much more than a little for him tt then. But she was wise and knew that o) a man should never be given more than m he asks for, but rather less. St she pi only murmured, " Perhaps I may," and ac ["ravers, wi<h his eyos fixed on her v< sweet face and the roguish dimples at Sj aatiriama r\f V*?v>ahfh tttoq nnnforif. I A.0 DUO VUiUCIO U1 uri uvuuuj nuo wwkvu w* -r Presently he said: m " Am I pardoned my misdemes lor of the other day? Yes? Then you should lo let me repeat it to show tnat I am forgiven.'' er But this time Miss Barrow drew her- di self away with much dignity. fe> " Not at all. For shame, Jack. Give yc me your arm and we will go back to the sa house. And, mind you, let me explain lo to yonr aunt first." as And Bhe did. But, to her surprise, fo Miss Bamersley was not surprised at eo all. Indeed, sume months later, when in they were both talking about Miss Bar- ol< row's approaching marriage, such a ' leam of mischief came all at once over cc the older lady's fuco that the younger in one suddenly taid she believed Miss Hamereley had invited Jack and herself ps to her place in June with an ulterior ht motive. " Well, frankly, I did," owned T.if.k's mint. " You whr? the two nicest, ce young people I knew, and it was my opinion you should make a match of it. "] As to the fact of your both haviug been cl< in lovo before being a barrier, that was he absurd, of course. All you needed was an a chance to unlold a charming little sti idyl, and I knew no better place than wi this for such an idyl " it po Something: Curious Happened. ^ A boy ten years old pulling a heavv 1 mitli niunao rt f q r? r? iait n tiuru nuu j/iccv>o vi wmiuo uuu lath taken fr? m 6ome demolished struc 6q ture?an every-day night in all our Hp cities. Tired and exhausted he halted ^ under a 6hade tree. His feet were braised and sore, bis clothes in rags, his gF face pinched and locking years older jj0 than it should. What must be the ^ thoughts of such a child as he looks ge out upon the world?the fine houses, the rich dresses, the rolling carriages? co the happy faces of those who hav?? j.jj never known what it was to be poor? Does it harden the heart and make it. wicked, or does it bring a feeling of loneliness and wretchedness?a wonder- tjr ing if the rich man's Beaven is not so ?<] far from the poor man's Heaven that be will never catch sight of their pinched an faces? mi The boy lay down on the grass, and in five minntps was ftnnnrl tmlepn. His bare feet just touched the curbstone, 0f and the old hat fell from his head and ^ rolled to the walk. In the shadow of tlie tree his face told a story that every a(j passer by could read. It told of scanty 8U food?of nights when the body shivered gwith cold?of a home without sunshino -of a youuglife confronted by mock- Qt] ing shadows. ^a Then something curious happened? ^ii A laboring man?a queer. old man with Rn] a wood-saw on his arm?crossed the ^ street to rest for a momenn Deneath the same shade. He glarlced at the boy and turned away, but his look was drawn ^ a?ain, and now he saw the picture and 4-U U A fnA TWO o ?AAI? M n . icau kUC DUUT. XJLCy TTC*a pvuu XXV, gJQ too, knew what it was to shiver and on hanger. He tip-toed along until he wr covld bond over the boy, and then he Bjj took from his pocket a piece of bread and meat?the dinner he was to eat if jj, he found work?and laid it down beside ^ the lad. Then he walked carefully tj11 away, looking back every moment, but ^ hastening out of eight as if he wanted to escape thanks. Men, women and mf children had seen it all, and what a lever it was! The human heart is ever kind and generons, but sometimes there ^ is need of a key to open it. A man walked down from his steps and left a 8l] half-dollar beside the poor man's bread. ar( A woman walked down and left a good aj, bat in place of the old one. A child au came with a pair of shoes and a boy fa) brought a coat and vest. Pedestrians ap halted and whispered and dropped dimes m) and quarters beside the first silver m( piece. Ts Something curious had happened. ^ Tho charity of a poor old man had un- an locked the hearts of a Bcore of people. f0( Then something strange occurred. The ^ pinched-faced boy suddenly awoke and sprang up as if ill were a crime to 6leep there. He saw the bread?theclothing ^ ?the money?the score of people 0f waiting around to see what ho would do. He knew that ho had slept, and he realized that all those things had come ^ to him as he dreamed. Then what did aj( he do V Whv, he sat down and covered st] bis f tee v^itbnis bauds and sobbed like a grieved child. They had read him a ^ sermon greater than all the sermons of I the churches. The? had set his heart I to swelling and jumping until it choked er j him. Puor, ragged and wretched, and f0 | feeling that he was no more to the world tban a e>tick or a stone, he had awakened to find that the world regarded him as a human being worthy g of aid and entitled to pity,?L'ctroit Free Press. When to Stop Advertising. When every man lias become so thoroughly a creature of habit that he will ^ certainly bay this year where he bought last year. m When younger, fresher and spunkier concerns in your line cease starting up b] and using tho newspapers in telling the ar people how much better they can do for tnem than you can. pi When nobody else thinks it pays to ev advertise. When population ceases to multiply, ti and the generations that crowd on after p< you stop coming on. \\ hen you have convinced everybody re wh 8e life will touch yours tbat you have better goods and lower prices tban they can ever get outside of your store: When you perceive it to be the rule that men who npver do, and never did, advertise, are outstripping their neigh- ai bora in the same line ot' business. When men stop makiDg fortunes right in your sight, solely by a discreet use e* of this mighty agent. g< When you can forget the words ol the shrewdest and most successful busine^s men concerning the main cause of r, their prosperity. j When you would rather have your own way and f?'l than take advice and win.?Printers Circular. ? EE ? b The ancient Egyptians portray in b their roofc -cut memorials the operation w of filtration in connection with tho e manufacture of wine. b] Mr. Spoopi ndjke's Search. "Oh, dear I' granted Mrs. Spoopenlyke, "I'm sure I'm floing to die I" and bo good woman flopped over in the >ed and contemplated her h in-band eith a pute fnee and a look of general lability. "You'll be good to baby, FOn't yon, dear?'' "Oh, ho!" letnrned Mr. Spropenlyke, pounding her tenderly on the lead with his big hand. '-You're all ight.. Bear np apainst it, and yon'll be pell in an hour or two. J've often had be cholera morbus, but yon never see ae give up like this. Where's the ;inger?'* " I don't know," moaned Mrs. Spoopndypke. "Look on the top shelf of do cioset. ii it, isn't mere, try me ottom drawer of the wardrobe; or it lay bo in the pantry. Ow-w P and Irs. Spoopendyke doubled up and traiphtened out with a jerk. " Yon can't remember any other Conresi-ional distric's represented by that inger, can jou?" growled Mr. Spoop advke, prowling aronnd the room in a aimless but energetic fashion. Yuu on't call to mind a conple more roostig-places in which that ginger is to be )und, do yon? Wher?'bouts on tho )p shelf?" and Mr. S| oopendyke rated aronnd among tho old bottles aud aapty pill boses. "Look here! I've niDd that conrt plaster I wanted day efore yesterday I" and more than ratified with hi." find Mr. Spnopendyke tterly forjrot the original object of his >arch. " You'll send baby to a good school, id eee that.the marries happily, dear?" roaned Mrs. Spoopendyke, adapting a oruan's style of fainting that tho git>ger onld be acceptable. "And you'll lry me by mother?" "Certainly," replied Mr. Spoopenrke, immers'd in the contemplation ot io court plaster. "Where's the sheef f flehh color that was here?" he deanded. "I don't seem to detect the esence of that particular element of Ihosiveness! Where'n the flesh solored jrtion of this curative?" and Mr. poopendyke ra" over th little squares :ain in a vain search for the piece he isned. "Did you look io' the wardrobe, ve 1" asked Mrp. Spoopendyke, faintly. " It isn't here !'' growled Mr. Sfoopidyke, raking over the con'ents of the nn/1 f ll Otrt ATTOV IBlf h una auu UUIUIU^ ?-ucua u?u nnu u.o at. 'Whut?f Upon my word! >u're a pretty woman ! I thought you id that old razor Btrop of mine was st when we moved. Here it is as big life and twice as dirty. Glad 1 und that strap," mumbled Mr. 3poopidyke, nibbing it tenderly and olowg off the dust. "Got a piece of ath ?" "Oh, do look in the pantry !" pleadt Mrs. Spoopendjke. "I'm sure it's the pantry !'1 Mr. Spoopendyke charged on the intry like a column of horse and istled around and bumped his head, it didn't seem to meet with much suc88. "I don't see any," ho mattered. Don't you know where you keep your oth? I .-'pose I might stand round ire till doomsday, while moths corrode d thioves do break into this, razor rop and steal the whole busineBi thout finding a piece of cloth to wipe on. Haven't yo got an old skirt or mething?" And Mr Spoopendyke ew the strap under his arm two r ree times and regarded it affectionfly. "Oh, please find the ginger!" uealed Mrs. Spoopendyke, aB another asm caught hor. "Never mind your \ htrap! Find the ginger 1" "Ain't I looking for it ?' retorted Mr. toopendyke. " Here's a cork, and the ttle can't be far off When I find at bottle I'll have a clew to the ginr, and I'm going to follow it to the tter ead. You ought to save 'these rks anyway, when I go fishing. What id of a looking bottle was it "It was loDg and narrow," replied rs. Spoopendyke, almost in despair. " I ought to find it from that descrip>n," muttered Mr. Spoopendyke. Most buttles are perfectly round. jre's the arnica bottle upside down, d I told you to keep it tilleil. I ght knock my arm into the next Presterian general assembly, and I'd have wait all day before I could geta drop arnica to soothe my angui jh 1 What's ie straw hat of mine doing in the boli box, anyhow? What particular maly did this hat Lave that suggested ch a disposition of it ?" and 3Ir. loopendyke smoothed out the crown d Bquinted with one -aye while he aightened the brim. "That's a g od t yet," and ho put it on and regarded mselt iu the glass, "You wanted me ginger, didn't you? Whero is it? here'd you put it ?" Mm Rnnnn?nr1\Vf> ?m?A frnm tlin d, pale but firm, and stalking across e room seized the bottle and flounced ck into the bed with a bump that owed she was mad. Theie is nothing earth that will so express a woman's uth as that one dive among the eets. "Getting better, ain't yeV" snorted r. Spoopendyke. "I told ye the olera morbus didn'Mawtlong. "Where's at razor strop? What'd yo do with it strt?|j. Mrs. Spoopendyke eyed him, but ide no responbe. " Point out to me the present address ' hat strap !'' howled Mr. Spoopenke. "Take this finger and lay it tenrly on the home and country of that rap I" and Mr. Spoopendyke whirled ound like a grindstone and filled the p with bottles?nd bores, and powders d pills. "Come out of the jangle and 2e me!" yelled Mr. Spoopentiyke ostrophizing the strap which he reambered having in his hand bnt a mo ?nt before. "Show me to the strap! ike that strap by the ear and lead it. fore Spoopendyke in proper person!" d the enraged gentleman thrust his Dt through the crown of his hat and ew i,ue wrecK up 10 me mp. "What's that sticking out of your east pocket?" asked Mrs. S|J00penke, scraping off external applications an assortment of drags. "Umphl" grunted Mr. Spoopendyke, awing out the strap. "Pound it, dn't ye ? Another time yofl let things Dne, will yeV Made me spoil my raw hat with yonrnonsense ! Another ne you want anything you just staud tck and lei; me search 1 V underand V" " Yes, dear," murmured Mrs. Spoopidyke, and as her husband lefi the om she took a consoling swig at the nper bottle and reflected that he idn't enjoyed the attack of cholenj orbns much more than Bhe had.? rooklyn Eagle. WISH WOKDS. He who pretends to be everybody'* irticular friend is nobody's. If you do what you should not, you ust hear what you would not. When the best things are not poesie the best may be madti of those that e. Human foresight oltea leaves' its oudest possessor cnly a choice of 'lis. There ia no joy like that arising from ie consciousness of duty faithfully jrformed. What we charitably forgive will be compensed as well as what we churably give. The best way to cover your tracks so lat no man will find you out is not to dthe deed. Idleness is hard work for those who e not used to it, and dull work for lose who are. Leisure is sweet to those who hare irned it, but burdensome to those who at it for nothing. It is always well to accept the inoviible with equanimity. The old proverb ms: "Since my house must be burned will warm myself at it.:' Without earnestness no man is ever reat or does really great things. He lay be the cleverest of men. he may be rilliant, entertaining, popular; but, if e has not earnestness, he will want eight. No soul moving picture was per painted that had not in it depth of ladow. i'HE FARM AND HOUSEHOLD. IIow to Train Tomato Vine*. , i In all my experience and observntkn I in the cultivation of the tomato plant, 1 I says a writer for the Country Cent/eman, i I have never seen so profitable a way as * is practiced by my next neighbor. Wben 1 hia ground is made ready be sets the 1 i plants in rows about four_feet apart and 1 . threo feet in tiie row. wnen auout a 1 i foot biph bo places a s'ake about six feet long firmly driven into the ground, i leaving ab( ufc four and a half feet above i ground. To these stakes the stalks are tied, pains being taken as the plants prow tj have a crotjh at or near the ground. As these two branches prow ho entwines them about the stake. When any branches start out of the main stalks they are allowed to grow only a few inches long, then headed in by taking off the terminal buds. In that way many side branches are furnished for bearing. When planted in this way the plants are easily cultivated ; light and air freely circulate in every part. The tomatoes being thus favored grow very largo, and being so far above ground, are free from dirt, aDd all washing and oleaning | arc avoided. They are reany for mar) ket when picked. Where there is not ! a suitable branch formed near the ^ ground, one stalk is wound around the j stake and does very well. When the stalks reach the top of the stake they are not allowed to go higher. On j plants pet oat in this climate abont tho last of April or 1st of May, the first ripe fruit appears about the middle of July; and growth of vine arid yMd of frhit continue until frost kills the leuv< 8 ?usually three months of ri.pening My neighbor tells me that in a good groaiog season be has pi' ked from half a bushel to three pecks from each average stake, and no larger or smoother tomatoes than his appear in market. He also tells me that he would rather have the stakes taller than shorter. In this way of traioiDg tho stalks the fruit is ripe two weeks earlier than by the low way of training. The obje ct of this trimming is to induce growth of fruit instead of Unnecessary branches. When the stalks are in rapid growth trimming is needed once in ten or twelve days. In this way he has raised at the rate of 1,200 to 1,500 bushels per acre. Culture of Gecan. mi. - ?v,?j. ? ' xuu oii/o nuuuu uiiuitj uajbi * When the young are hatched they t should be kept away from the water \ not exposed to heavy rain or dews, wet floors in the house or the hot 6un's t rays. Feed them at first with bread c crumbs scaied in milk, scalded bran, t corn meal or ground outs, fresh cat t grass, chopped cabbage, lettuce or ? green soils, they will devour or nibble \ at them when only a day old. Young goslings have some natural enemies to ^ be guarded against; rats are especially j foLci of them, and will try ha d to de- ; atroy them. The fox, skunk, mink, weasel, muskrat aDd turtle Lave no ob- fl jections to tbe flesh of a tender goose ^ or propling whenever they can get a good chance. 1 Atter a month of 6teady feeding let the goslings run in the pasture and join h tho old birds in the water. When jdu 1 come to fatten them place a dozan or " so in a roomy, movable coop, give them 1 all they will eat of cornmeal and vegfv ' tables cooked with coarse fat, sheep's v plucks or liver, boiled potatoes and 0 ground oats. Three weeks of such feeding will fatten them. c From large sized geese about three- I fonrthB to a pound of feathers may be ? had annually. Geese may be plucked s two or three times in a year, or when t the quill of the feather is ripe, that u, t clear and not filled with bloody matter, t Th small feathers should be plucked c first, leaving all the large, except five or six nnder each wing to BUppcrt them c from drooping. The early goslings t may be plucked once when their fc feathers are grown and ripe, and yet r grow oat in time for fattening before a the holidays. c The sex of young geese may be s known to the breeder by many signs c Among some breeds and varieties it r shows in the color, size, carriage, atti- c tilde, mode of attack, pugnacity, in flee- r tijn of the voice or cackle, or recurved p ft uthers in the tail, etc , and which may fc be noticed by oompariaon, olose study and experience in breeding them. The best and most popular breeds in this country are the Great Hong Kong, 8 Toulouse and Embden; but there are e others that are very handsome and pro- t litic, but they lank f-ize and desirable v flesh qualities foi table use.?Poultry v Mmthly. r, jc App Icatloti ot Barnyard Manure. The following contribution appears j in recent English agricultural papers: c The economical application of Jarm- a yard dung must, to a certain extent, be Q hawed upon its com position, and there y are two proc^sseu by which this may be r ascertiincd?first, by direct analysis, _ and, second, by calculation. Many years ago I published a series j( of calculations based upon the food t consumed upon a farm of 400 acres, the ^ quantity of straw used as litter, and ^ tho loss by respiration. The farm was c estimated to have 100 acres in turnips or marigolds, 100 in hay and 200 iu j( wheat and barley. Tne araouut of ^ dung produced was equal to 957 tons of O fifift *nr\rir?rla n r aVftftYlt. fwA It )l?lf J/UUUUO, V? V..X/ ??? ?? I tons for each acre. The composition j ? per ton was as follows : ^ Water 1,400 1 Dry matter COO J3 Minerals .5% 1 Phosphoric acid as phosphate of lime... 10 e Potash 10J4 8 Nitrogen 13 j. This estimate agrees very well with B fhe aDalyseB made by Boussingault, u Voelcker and ourselves, and may bo 8 said to represent the composition of ^ good unfermented farmyard manure. t We are indebted to Dr. Voelcker for j, several analyses of the dung in diflerent c stages of decomposition, aud we show 0 that only a very small proportion, prob- j i ahlv not mnrn than two Bounds of the + } thirteen pounds of nitrogen contained j p in each ton, is in the form of ammonia. a Considerably more than ninety per a cent, of the whole of the duri^ consists, 0 therefore, of water and wood. A largo j ~ proportion of the manure constituents j t of the dnng exists in combination with i j. the straw or the solid excrement of the ! F animals, subetances which decompose ; ^ vpry slowly in t.he soil, and for this ! reason it takes a large amount of dung to produce much effect on vegetation. 8 Our experiments lead us to the con- ? I elusion that the influence of one dressI ing of dung may not be entirely at an c > <>nd for twenty or thirty years, or per- f liaps even a longer period. ? i With the composition of dung before j; me, and the kuown composition and condition of the various ingredients it J contains, the question has often oncnrred to me whether it will be posei- I 8 lie to do auything by wav of improving \ * I its fertilizing power. Ought we to fit i J the ammonia or ought we to try and 8 | manipulate in some way to hasten its H I action V If we can get the full effect of ? an artificial manure in one year, why 1 must we wait a lifetime to see the end 8 of one application of dung ? Tine is ? money, and the old-fishioned idea that 1 j a manure is valuable for its lasting c ; properties will not bear argument, ap, if j I it is truev it would be better to leave 1 i tho bones and phosphate rock under ] ground. With all this tcientifio prelude, I am ^ bound to confess that I am just as help- f lt>s < in regard to the management or im- 8 provemeut of dnng as the .most old- 1 fashioned farmer. It is of no me fixiDg ammonia where thero is hardly any to fix. It costs nothing to look at your J dung with the idea of doing something 8 j to it; but you oertainly cannot touoh it ? | without going to some considerable ex- 1 i pense. I, for my part, therefore, am * content to let it alone. As I grow a * good many mangels, I apply the greater I part of the dung to this crop, my prac- < tie? being t<j open out the fnrrow mid ^ apply about twenty tons per acre; then, . after earthing up the furrows, I proceed ! to drill the seed upon the top. ^ If I did not grow :roots, I ihould ap t I ply tho dung in autumn to the olover 1 1 or grass. This, of con see, would involve i exposure to the atmosphere,but I shoal aot fear much loss on this account; oi at all events, I do not think thei would be more by this process than b my other. To give some idea of oor attempt t estimate the loss of the ingredienl contained in done, I may say that w ippli?d it to grass lurid between 186 ind lb63, and bavin* taken a crop ( bay every year since, at tho end t twenty year's we had only got bac fifteen per cent, cf the nitrogen suj plied in the manure, less than one ha! jf the potash, and not much more tha -m? t-liirrl of Khp nVirnnhnrin Rftid. Th affect of tlie dune hst applied eishtee rears ago is still quite distinct, an yhen it will come to an end no one ch predict. On tho whole, as regards th piestion of economy, I am therefore ir ilined to advise that the dang shoul je carted from the yards to the field; ind loft there in a heap until ieqnire< or application, or thnt it should be af died direct irom tho yards. All labo xpended on dung addn certainly to th :o8t, but it does not add with the sam :er'ainty to its value.?J". D. Lnxces, i Cultivator. Form nnd Garden Notes. The oorn and potatoes in the dtill vill yield more to the acre tban tho* n hills. Frequently examine the inside c 'our harness to see if there is anythin, hat chafes and galls. Green suckers from corD, eapeciall iweet com, should be broken or pulle* l-~- *i"i? nn?? o WA t/\ /iatttu mli.1 ur U11AU11 tuwn, ?unj aio lU turro nua ce cream is to a human beiog. After a hen has been sitting fiftee: lays put the eggs into a vessel of lnke farm water. Those which will hate! fill stir in the water, while those no ilive will lie still. It is lamentable that so few farm iave a supply of small frniffl. Man armers never have a berry of their owi aising, while the most hardv fruit he common red cherry, is not at al jlenty. Cabbages respond quickly to frequen loeing. it is one of the crops upoi vhich too muoa labor cavnot be be [towed. They should be cultivate* >ften. even when there are no weed imong them. Many people think that because pars lipB may remain in the ground all win er they^row so well as not to neei nuch cultivation. They should be cu! ivated as carefully as carrote, and th veeds shculd not obtain the mattery. A correspondent of the Country Gen Uman gives the following as bis metho >f destroying sprouts from roots o rees: Bore a three-fourths inch hole i he center of the stump, ten inche leep; put in one ounce of the oil c ritroil and plug it up tight. At three feet apart each way there ar 1,860 hills on an acre. Potatoes yield ng onlv one luihel to every thirty hill vould give upward of 160 bushels pe icre. That this is much above th iverage crop even in good years show 10w great are the possibilities' for im movement in potato growing. Dar'ng a great many rainy days i ummer stock are much more comforts >le if allowed to ruu to the bamyari nd shelter themselves under sheds am n the stable. But when they do thi hey should be fed us liberally as ii finter, and, if possible, with green foo< ,s good nt least as they get in pasture The cotton plant is destined to be ome ot greater importance than ever farmers have learned that cottonseec aeal is a good feed for most kinds o tock, and that after feeding it make ^ - ?? " ?-\k1ik /\l mnii ka T JLltJ LL1U*3U VUiaUUlU AJUU \Jk luuumo, A equires some care in using, and is bet er if mixed with at least half its ball if wheat bran. E.* B. D., Kansas: The yellow o range colored dust on the under side o ilac&berry leaves is a fungus growtl ;nown as rust. It is the same in ever; espect as the rust on wheat and oats nd some hinds of blackberries, th ommon wild ones especially, are ver ubject to it. This rast kills the plant r makes them grow very weak, anc apidly ppreads from one plant to an >ther, until all are infected. Thi emedy f.s to cut out and dig np ever ilant that is diseased, and grow non int those which are pjoof against it Recipes. Cheese Omelette.?Take throe table poonfuin of mil* and a pinch of sail fo ach egg; beat the eggs lightly fo hree minutes, pour into a bot pan ii pinch a piece of butter the size of i ralnut has just been melted ; whei iearly cooked sprinkle over it gratet heese (old cheese is best), fold ove nd serve at once. Oatmeal Crackers.?One teaenpfa >atmeal and enough tepid water to we ud make into dongh; mix well am nick ; the harder the dough the better f it will bear to be rolled out with th< olling-pin, begin to roll it, stopping t< tress the ragged ed^es with you inger.i; keepai it in the same way til. t is one eighth or a qnarter of an incl hick ; be qnick about it or it will gc oo drv under your bunds; make onh ou^h enough at one time for on< lacker; do not b own it any in baking t will be good for months if you pu t in your oatmeal barrel and cover i nth meal. To I oil Onions.?"A Doctor's Wife' ajs: Some years ago I read in an Edg' iah journal a contribution of Mr. Franl Jucklan l, where he stated that aftei aertal fatigue and occasional sleep essaess he was greatly benefited bj atiag onions at his dinner. How oporific or sleep-inducing the onion, ho rnucn despised vegetable, is, I an ,ot prepared to state, but I know thai aany persons who are troubled with leeplessness use them. If properly loiled so as to get the twang out ol hem, the onion is a most delicate vegeable. To i very quart of onions a qnarl f cold water, with a half tublespoonfu] f salt. Boil not too fast for two hours, )rain in colander thoroughly and allow o get cold. Make a saace with a table poonful of butter, the same of flauii od one-half pint of milk ; rub bnttei nd flour perfectly together, with piccfc f blacfc pepper. Boil milk, whid our over Hour and butter, and stir al be time to keep smooth. Pat onion* a sauce and let tiiem heat nntil th( atne boils. Ought to be served rathei iry. Cukrant Jelly.?Stem the currants oald them in a poroelain kettle or in s rock in a kettle of hot water. Do noi ot them boil; you can tell by th< banged color when they are scalded is soon as the/ are cool enough wast ncl strain them through a coarse linei tag first, and then through a flaune! >ag. The juice f;om a few quarts o ed raspberries will give currant jelly t lelioious flavor. Allow one pound o ugar to a pint of juice if you liko i erv sweet, but it will jelly witl ess. Five pounds of sugar t( iz pounds of juice will an wor, but will require boiling a fev aoments longer. When your juica hai >een boiled ten minuto3 throw in youi ingar, and as quick as it diPoolves tr] 'our jelly by cooling a little on a spoon f it stiffens iu the leabt the jelly hai looked enough. From ten to fifteei ninutes is usually sufficient time for i 0 boil. Your currants should not bi rery ripe if you want your jelly to be i Ine color, and if your enrrants are no rery ripe live minutes wil be 1od| mough for the jaice to boil before th mgar is added. Jelly made in thi nanner will neverfail to stiffen. Upou the railways of the Unite* kingdom during 18bl, forty-two per ions were killed and 1,161 injared b; iccidents to trains,- rolling stocks, per nanent way, etc., us oompared witl 1 ty-one and 1,023 respectively in 1880 )f those killed twenty-three wer ja*s ngers and nineteen servants of th ioiopanies, and of thosa injured 99! vere passengers and 168 servants. Boston gossips declare that Osca (Vilde has met his fate, and will marr i New England girl. What the Nei England girl has done to werit such ate is not Btated. d L\1>IES> DEPARTMENT. r, e Matrimonial Superstition*. ,y There is no period in a woman's li hat eo completely chances her who o existence as marriage, and for that ve ;8 r-ason she is apt to be more aupersl e tions and fancifnl at that time than g nny oth?r; and while superstitions a ,f fact becoming a something of the pac )f there are very few women who will n k hesitate before making Friday the , wedding day, or will not rejoice at ti if sunshine, for "happy is the bride th q tuu ouu Duinro uu. o uiio auu vuwu e have always been held as the most-pr D pitious months in the twelve, a hap. & result being rendered donbly certain n the ceremony was timed so as to tal Q place at the fall moon, or when the 8t t. and mnonwerein conjanctien. J The Romans were very superstitioi about marrying in May or Februarj j they avoided nil celebration days, ar the Calends, Nones and Ides of evei r month. The day of the week on whi< e the 14th of May fell was con*ider< p very unlucky in many parts of merry o. n England, and in Orkney a bride nelec her wedding day so that its evening mt have a growing moon and a flowii tide. In Scotland the last day of the ye; 9 is thought to be lucky, and if the mot e should happen to be full at any tin when a wedding takes plaoe, the bride >f oup of happiness is expected always g be full. In Perthshire the couple wl have had their banns published at tl y end of one and are*married at the b d ginning of another quarter of a yei it can eineofc nothing bnt eods. The day of the week is also of gre a importance, Sanday being a gre favorite in some.parts of England at Ireland. And although an English la j. would not marry on Friday, the Frent girl thinks the first Friday in the mont particularly fortunate. Most of i 8 know the old saying concerning tl J weuaing-aay: " Monday for wealth, | Tuesday lor health, Wednesday is the beat day of all, Thursday for creeses, t Friday lor losses, q Saturday no luck at alL" j" In Yorkshire, when the bride is on tl & point of crossing her father'b threshol 8 after returning from church, a pla containing a few square pieces of cal i- is thrown from an upper window of tl i- house by a male relative; if the pla d is broken she will be happy, if not si I- will not expect to escape misery, e In Sweden a bride must carry bret in her pocket, and as many pieces of _ as she can throw away, just so mu( d trouble does she cast from her; bu' f is no luck to gather the pieces. Bi Q should the bride lose her slippe 8 then she will lose old troubles, on] ,f in this case the person who pioks it n will gain richer. The Manxmen pi e palt in their pockets and the italiai [. blessed charms. g It is an unhappy omen for a weddiu r to be put off when the day has bee e fixed, and it is believed muoh han g will ensue if a bridegroom stands at tl L junction of crossroads or beside a close gate upon his wedding morn. In Enf land it. in t.hnnaht to be a bad sign Q the bride fails to sbed tears c ? tbe happy day, or if si j: indulges herself by taking a last glan< at tbe looking-glass after her toilet 8 completed ; but she may gratify h< ^ vanity without danger if she leaves 01 1 hand nngloved. To look back or- g ' back before gaining the church doo '* to marry ia green, or while there is a ' open grave in the church-yard, are a 1 unfortunate, and the bride must t f careful to go in at one door and out i 8 another. t When the bridemaids undress tl r bride, they mast throw away and loi k all the pins. Woe to the bride if single one be left about her! Notnil r will go right. Woe also to the brid f maids if they keep one of them f f< 3 they will not be married before Whil f suntide or till tbe Easter following i i, tbe soonest. e If the bridal party venture off di j land, they must go up stream. It s bride most, to be lucky, wear * " Somotbing old and something new, Something gold and something blue." 3 If she should see a strange cat or hei [ a cat sneeze on her wedd ng day, th? 2 she will be very bappy; and if on h< * wedding morning she steps from hi bed on to something higher, and apai on to something higher still, she wi from that moment rise in the world F< r thi" purpose a table is placed beside tl r bed, and if it can stand near the dress* 3 or something higher than it. then st 1 must step Jrom the table to that whic ? /a higher. Bat wee betide her shoal * she fall! r In leaving the house and church, sh must be very careful to put her rigl 1 foot forward, and on no account alio' t any one to speak to her husband unf 1 she has called Lim by name. ? To break the wedding ring is an ome ^ that the wearer will soon ba a widow > but r " As your wedding ring wears, I 8o will wear a.vay your cares." ? Fanhlon Fnnclew. 7 To vear velvet in midsummer is oc j of the modern innovations in the ?. . thetics of dress. t White ostrich plumes are worn o t, white chip, English, Dunstable, Italiai Manila and Panama bruid hats. ' Student blue is a lovely shade of pal . gray blue, much in demand for ligt II woolen suits for country wear. r I llrnoor onito tnr rhildrAri are madfl f - sateens, plain and figured, and trimme ' profusely with lace and embroidery ' Hats and bonnets of white dotte > muslin are shirred on white splits ani 1 trimmed with flowers, feathers ant luco. Dark bine or gray bine gnimpes o ^ yokes and sleeves are worn with pal blue and pink gingham dresses by chil l dren. [ The fashion cf to-day lends towar , simplicity of dress and manners a r watering laces, according to Harper' . Bazar. f In spite of the effort to introdnc r bouffant skirts, paniers and bustles, th i outlines of all costumes remain abot i the same. Children wear Mother Hubbard an ' Kate Gieenaway dresses of Turkey-re 3 calico, with white muslin pokes o r guimpes and sleeves. Among splendid novelties sent ove ' from Paris are embroideries of metalli | bullion and imitation j -wels, mcrustf ^ tions in relief upon velvets, brocadei 3 damssses and satinp. ' The latest French fashion is to wea your flowors in a round clump or clut i ter, and right up on the top of the lei * shoulder, inbtead of in a long trailin spray along the side of the bodict . Sometimes eight or ten roses are cluf t tered together so as to produce the af pearance of a huge rosette, while doubl narcissi and large bunches of azalea are in great favor. In fa-itening on fches * flowers, it wi'l be fiuind well to use I gentleman's scarf pin, as the stalks, b< ing thick, cannot be encompassed by a ordinary pin. For skirt trimmings one wide flounc 3 headed by several small ones, two Liar i row knife-plaited frills, headed by t wide, falliDg bouillonne, and severs 3 small flounces, or the skirt covered t a the knees by alternate narrow ruffle t and puffings, are the favorito styJei j Above these skirt trimmings, set on i e whatever manner they may be, is th a inevitable scarf, drapeii ar< u d straigl a la Eapignole, or t-hirred in the ceutf and arranged en panier. Iu very ric j materials the skirt is usually plain, th only trimming consisting of a full wid ' garniture around the bottom, thrf \ pnffiogs, with a fluted edge each way, ' double box plaited flounce lined with ! contrasting color, or a crquillo rnchi 'Q feathery and full, being tbree popu'j I modes of forming this trimming. . 3 ? Breakfast should be eaten in ftl morning btfure leaving the house f< r exeroise or labor of any descriptioi y those who do it will be able to perfon w more work and with, greater alacrit a than those who work an hour or t? before breakfast. Stnart'8 La>t Fight. J. Esten Oooke, an ex-Con federate fe officer, tells how General Stuart met bis je death from Sheridan's men at the battle ? of Yellow Tavern. Mr. Oooke says: ^ The battle had evidently reached the ^ turning point, and 8 nart saw the de<re perate character of his situation. It jt was difficult to nne his artillery in snch 0? a melee of frieDd and foe, and his Mt ^ wing was eoon in ntter disorder. The ]e Federal attack had at last succeeded in hrAxlrincr it tr? nifififls: tli? cien uarn er scattering ia every direction, and tee^ inpr Major Breathed near him, Stuart uhonted: f " Breathed ! take command of h11 the mounted men in the road, and hold it lQ apainst whatever comes. If this road is lost we ?ie gone 1" j Such an order was precisely suited to r.- the tastes of a man like Breathed. I l(j was intimately acquainted with him, and n ver knew a human being who took buc.i sincere delight in desperate fighting. At S uart's order Breathed saluted, and shouting to tbo men to fol1 ivr him charged the Federal column, " pparently careless whether he was ^ followed or not. He was immedia'ely surrounded. and a hot Babe* fight took ar place between himself and his swarm m of enemies. A saber blow nearly cut ie him out of the saddle, and he received |>8 a pistol shot in his side, bat be cat down one Federal officer, killed another 10 with his revolver, and made his wav ie out, his face streaming with bloi-d. At e_ this moment the artillery opened, but a ar determined charge was made on the guns, and all the pieces were captured at but one. The driver of this piece lashed his horses and rushed the gun t(j otf toward the Chios ahominy, followed 98 oy the cannoneer*, cursing and shoutin : " For God's sake, boys, lei's go back; they've got as far ?s Breathed I" a3 It would have neen better for the gun 16 to have been captured As it was { whirling along at wild speed it broke through the cavalry, throwing them into disorder, and before the lin6 was reformed the enemy struck it and the battle was end?d. Both the Southern u ings were driven, and there was no hope of continuing the contest. 8tuart was nearly in despa'r, and was seen 4 galloping about, shouting and waving .' bis saber in a desperate attempt to rally his iLen, but it was impossible. The field was a scene of the wildest dis. order. Federals and Confederals were darting in every direction, and one of the former as he darted by Stuart fi< ed > at him and shot him through the body. t The bullet entered his side, and . passing through the stomaoh inflicted a ' f mortal wound. In its passage it just grazed a email JBibie wnicn ne always r carried, tbo gift of his mother, lie I' reeled in the saddle and was caught by JL Captain Dorsey, of the First Virginia, ^ and as he had closed his eyes seemed about to expire on the field. His immense vitality, however, sustained him, and endeavoring to rise ereot again in his saddle he xclaimed to those around ' him: " Go back and do your duty <ts I have done mine, and our country will be safe I" if Swords. ,n The first weapon used by man was 16 probably a olub; and it is also likely that in time this whs made of very haid 18 wood, and somewhat sharpened on one 3r or mure sides, so as to inflict a more 16 deadly wound. Wooden weapons of >? this kind are now in use by some savr? age raceB. Then it was found that more effective weapons of the sort " could be made of a harder substance, and short, unwieldy swords were hown " out of stone, very much as our Indians made their arrow-heads of flint. Bat a 16 sword of this kind, although a terrible 36 weapon in the hands of a strong man, a was brittle and apt to break ; and so in '8 time, when the use and value of meiala ?" came to be understood, swords were j* made of these substances. The early hj~ Romans, and some other nations, had strong, heavy swords made of bronza. But when iron and steel came into use ry it was quickly perceived that they were 10 the metals of which offensive weapons should be made. By a carefal study of the form and use of the sword, from its first invenir tion until the pre>-ent time, we may ge* ,n a good idea of the manner in which iu sr various ages military operaiions were carried on. At first men fought at close 'Q quarters, like the beasts they imitated. 11 But as the arts of warfare began to be )r improved, and as civilization and en10 lightenment progressed, men seemed ?r anxious to get farther and farther away (mm nrm another when thev fought. It) ? * w h and so the eword gradually became J longer and longer, antil, in the middle ages, a man's sword was sometimes as e long as himself. Bat there is a limit to this sort of w thing, and when the use of projectiles j] which wonld kill at a great distance became general, it wasfonnd that a soldier n was seldom near enotigh to his enemy j. to reach him with his sword; and at the ' present day it is seldom used in actual warfare except by cavalrymen, and these frequently depend as much on the fiiearnis they carry as upon their sabers. It in said that cavalry charges, in which 6 the swords of the riders are depended 3* upon to rout the enemy, do cot frequently occur in the warfare oftbepresn ent dav;and those naval battles of which 1, all have read, where the opposing ships are run side by side, and the sailors of e one, cutlass in hand, npring upon tLe deck of the other and engage in a hand to band fight, are now seldom heard of. . Our iron clad ships fire at one another , from a grt at distance, or one of them comes smasuing into another with its terrible steel ram ; and a sword would A ' 1? ?u:_~ u ue a very usi'ieea tuiug tu a uuuciu 3 pailor. Our armies lie a mile or two ^ apart and pop at each other with longrange rifles and heavy cannon, and to r the greAt body of the opposing forces e swordu wonld only be an incumbrance. I- ?St. Nicholas. ^ A Leap for Life. 8 The citadel of Cairo, Egypt, stands on a steep, rocky bluff abo7e the city the relative positions of the two b"ing very much those of tne capitol and the t lower town at Washington. It was the favorite residence of the famous Egyp tion dictator of the last generation, ? Mehemet Ali Pasha, who strongly fortid fied it and kept a number of heavy r cannon constantly pointed from its walls at the city below to overawe the dipaffecir tion which his iron rule inevitably proo dnced. The walls are still in tolerable i- repair, and might give some trouble to ?, a forcc unprovided w th heavy siege artillery. Above therumparts are visible ,r at a considerable distance the tall, slender, white minarets of the Muhammejt dieh mosque, built by Mehemet Ali g This is ono of the principal ornaments i, of Cairo, its interior being decorated with a richness of coloring unmatched in the world, except, perhaps, by the Alhambra palace at Qrenade. In front s of the main entrance lies a vast paved e quadranglo surrounded by a low colon a nade, which has acquired a tragic histori>. cul renown as the scene of the fam-m* Q "massacre of the Mamelukeb" by order of the pasha. Mehemet, finding in tine turbulent independence of these warlike chiefs a formidable ~ obstacle to his cherisned j scheme of absolute power, invited them to a banquet in the court-yaM of thf citadel. They rashly accepted the i rteacherous courtesy, and were saddenly n fired upon in the midstof their revel by e a detachfeeiit of soldiers concealed in lt the encircling colonnade. All peri?heo ,r save one, the son of the principal chief, k who. alone preserving his presence of mind, threw himself upon the ground j and succeeded in reaching his horse which was tied to an adjoining pillar. ' Springing upon its back he cut his way a through the swarming assailants, and. g finding the pates shut against him, took ? a flying leap from the top of the vail, a height of eighty feet. The horse was killed on the spot, but the daring Mameluke, escaping with a broken e limb, orawled away and hid himself be:.r fore he could be overtaken. a; m To eoae men popularity is always sy suspicious. Enjoyiug none themselves, 'o they are prone to suspeot the validity of those attainments which command it. Time's Cure. Moarn, Ob rejoicing heart, The hours are flying, Each one some treasure takes, Each one some blossom breaks, And leaven it dying; The chill dark night draws near, Thy sua will soon depart, And leave thee sighing; Then mourn, rejoicing heart, Tho hours are flying I Rejoice, Oh grieving heart, The hours fly last, Wi?h each eome sorrow dies, With each some shadow flic*, Until at last The red dawn in the E^st Riil* wp*rv niL?ht ilnnart And paiu in past; Rejoice, ttien, grieving heart The hours tly fast I HUMOR OF THE DAY. Honsebold hints?Pokers and broomfctickf. ' Wk'11 shake once more for the quinine," as th>3 ague said to ihe victim. "Ida:" The best thing in bonnet< continues to be as in the past?a pretty face. Woman's inhumanity to woman is outbalanced by her insane devotion to masculinity. It didn't require muoh of a phi'oaopher to discover that all rioh widow* are handsome. An fxcbange thinks that Pittsburg will never make a success of glass shingles. There is no chauoe for the carpenters to wiste nails. A New York dock- fays there s and unusual amount of ozone in the atmosphere this yea*, but that's no ex cuse for a man to steal a fellow's umbrella. " Wbat have you been doing sinoe I last saw you V "I've been attending a course of free lectures." "A course of free lectures 1" " Yes, I was married a week after we farted." A woman has suggested that when a man breaks his heart it is alt the same as when a lobster breakB one of bis claws, another sproating immediately and growing in its place. " Yes," said Fogg, " I used to believe everything} wa< the most credulous fellow alive. But," he added, ''since I have had this confonnded sore throat, it is hard for me to swallow anything." Deaf men mate queer mistakes some* times. " Were yon born deaf f asked man of one whose hearing was dread* fully affected. " No," was the reply, " I was born in Penn-Yan." " Shut the door!" yelled the grocer to a deaf man who had just stepped in. "I'm a bore. "Well, it I am I'll do mytrading somewhere else," and away he went in a huff. Secret Marriages la Mew York. The Badger case (which has just been settled by compromise in New Yors), says a letter from the metropolis, is veiy remarkable in its character, the facta being as follows: Jacob Badger recently died in his seventy sixth year. Be was o. riMi nld hftrthnlnr. and had for manT years been at the head of an opulent shipping house. His heirs proceeded to divide the property, when a claim was made by a woman who at-serte d her dower right as his widow. For thirtyfive years she and "John Baker" had held connubial relations, their home being in Brooklyn. ''Baker" had always conducted himself in an exemplary manner, providing liberally and enjoying the respect of the neighborhood. Every day he went to New York and returned at night, and this uniform life was only terminated by Lit* sudden demise. It was then learned that "John Baker, 'of Brooklyn,find Jacob Badger,of New York, were the same, and the woman was allowed a dower of $42 0o0. New York contains many t-uch instano-a, which find protection ia that mantle which a great city tnrows over society, f well remember the flour dealer, Daniel Angerine, who always passed for a bachelor. After Tlis death, however, it was learned that be had a family, which had only known him under a false name. I was also acquainted with another bachelor business men (the late H. N. Ferns), who kept his residence a secret from even his clerks. Every morning he appeared at the store, and at night he left, but no one knew whither he went, and his employes became so accustomed to this mysteiy that it ceased to t>e a matter 01 com mem. Eventually Ferris was taken ill und died, and it was Urn discovered that be bad a private establishment in an obtcure street, far uptown. R G. Sflbnyler, formerly the noted railway contractor, also passed for a bachelor, until bis failure brought out the fact that he nad a wile and family in which he iiad long been known by tne name of Spicer. I could mention a mau of wealth and of high family who pusses in the Fifth avenue circles as a bachelor, but hia lnends have long been convinced that he has a wife somewhere in the city. Some of these secret marriages occur in the following manner: Young men seethe impossibility of supporting those helpless, high-toned city girls who Want a fashionable establishment, and hence, going from one extreme to another, ? rbe; will sometimes marry the daughter of their washerwomen, simply because the tatter can take care of themselves. An such a marriage would distress their friends, tLey keep it secret and pass for bachelors, being thus enaoled to retain their position in society. Soch are among the strange featnres in metro* politan life. No man, however, can say he marries below his station if his wife, however humble, is of decent character and possesses intelligence. That false notion concerning men marrying beneath them has led to a vast extent of mischief. How a Statesman Controls His Temper When M. de Persigny was French minister of the interior, he received a ci?ih nnfl dav from a friend, who. on send* 1 ing up his name,was shown into the preat man's sanctum. A warm discussion i r.>se between them. Suddenly an usher entered and handed the minister a note. On opening it he at ouce changed his tone of voice and assumed a qniet and urbane manner. Puzzled as to the con* tects of the note, and by the marked tffeet it had suddenly produced upon the minister, hi* friend cast a furtive glance at it, when, to his astonishment. he perceived that it was > imply a plain sheet of paper, without a scratch upon it! More puzzled than ever, the gentleman, after a few minutes, took his ? leave and proceeded to interrogate the usher, to whom he was well-known, for he himself had been minister of the in* terior, " You have," raid ho, "just handed to the minister a note, folded up,which had a most extraordinary effect np,n him. ftow, it was a plain sheet of paper, with nothing written upon it. What did it mean'/ ' "Sir," replied the usher, "here is the explanation, which I mu?t beg yon to keep secret, for I do not wi^h to compromise myself. My master is very liable to lose his temper. As be him-elf is aware of his weakness, he has ordered me. each time, that his voice is raised sufficiently to be audible in the anternom, without delay to place a sh?et of paper in an envelope, and take it to him. That reminds him that bia temper is getting the better of him, and heat once calms himself. Just now I heard his voice rising, and immediately earned our mv inductions." Suicide. The larger numoer of suicides tike place in countries where life is thought easy and happy, as in the kingdom and duchje" of Saxony, in the smaller German states, and in Denmark. Trustworthy statistics prove thut there are 110 cases of self-murder in France for every sixty-nine cases which happen in England. Suicides are least frequent in Spain, which is, perhaps, of ail Enr> pean countries the mo9t superstitions. There are only thirty female suicides to every 100 men who destroy them6el vfs. The preatest number of suicides occur in summer; the fewest in midwinter. Out of 23 3i'4 French snioidea, 8,413 died of strangulation, 4,656 by drowning, firearms disposed of 2,462, and poison of only 281.