The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, August 01, 1888, Image 1
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The Abbeville Press and Banner. !
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WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 1, 1888. VOLUME XXXIII. NO. 12. Jg
Fault-Finding.
Margaret E. Sangster, in the Christian
Intelligencer.
There are certain rosks 011 which
happiness, if it strike, is very likely to
split. One of these is fault-finding.
The habbit of grumbling is fatal to
family peace, and if indulged in habitually
by any single member of a
household is sure to disturb the harmony
of all the rest. Like most bad
habits this is formed insensibly, and
many inveterate and fretful fault-finders
are so unconscious of their besetting
sin that in their own eyes they
are models of amiability. "If," they
say, "so and so were done, or undone,
we would never complain, but"?
Alas! in most houses there are "ifs"
and "buts." The most delightful and
lovable people are only human, after
all, and have their nervous days, and
their forgetful days, and their days of
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Very many people have their sharp
points, which must be avoided, and
their weak places, which are getting
in the way; and in fact there are very
few of us who have not somewhere a
spot where it would be quite saf6 to
erect such a warning-post as in winter
stands at intervals on the skatingpond,
"Danger here !" To live with
people in the familiarity and complete
unreserve of domestic life, and to live
so gently and pleasantly that no one's
foibles are made manifest, no one's
feelings wounded, and no one's personality
unjustly invaded, implies
tact, unselfishness, and almost saiutiy
patience, on the part of all concerned.
There are homes where love is so completely
the motive-power, and courtesy
so unfailing the custom, that a ripple
of trouble rarely disturbs their calm:
unfortunately, such homes are not in
the majority. In far too many houses
there are often undiguified and unnecessary
scenes at breakfast, dinner, and
tea, which are not quite quarrels, but
which are probably worse in their effects.
As a thunder-storm clears the
air, and the sunshine seems brighter,
so a good, honest quarrel once in a
great while may?we say it doubtfully,
however?make everything lovely
afterwards. (Lovers, by the way,
have been known to quarrel for the
pleasure of making up and being
friends again.) But a feeble, intermittent,
never-ending, still-beginning
patter of fault-finding wears away
heart and soul and strength. Fancy
being R. Wilfer, and living with that
angelic creature his wife!
Fault-finding people usually have
their favorate provocations. Thus,
while to the man of the house who
has fallen into the most unmanly way
of scolding indiscriminately anything
will afTord an occasion, from a forgotten
cobweb to a knot in the baby's
shoestring, it is an utter impossibility
for him to pass by the carving knife.
Carving knives are edge tools that
seem to have been primarily designed
to try the masculine temper. "My
dear," says the gentleman, laying
down knife and fork with the air of a
martyr, "this knife is dull again. It
is singular that we never can have a
sharp knife in this house." Precisely
as though every other house in tne
place were furnished to perfection with
the finest cutlery, and this only were
deficient. After carving knives, coffee
is a convenient objective point. It is
too weak or too strong, it is cold, it is
thick, it is everything and anything
but right. As for the mistress, when
she is a scold, farewell to comfort:
'All hope abandon ye who enter
here," might appropriately be inscribed
over the door of every abode
where presides a fault-finding wife.
Feminine resources are inexhaustible,
feminine opportunities are endless;
and as for the feminie tongue, Solomon
said ages ago, and the accumul
ated wisdom of the world today confirms
his coviction, that a dwelling 011
the house-top would be infinitely
pleasanter than life with "a brawling
woman in a wide house."
"But there are legitimate occasions
for fault-finding?are there not ?" inquires
somebody. Very likely; and
when such arise meet them as it is the
best way to meet every difficulty in life,
farely, squarely, and bravely. Say the
act is wrong in plain words, and have
done with it. It is one thing to reprimand
or approve where reproof or rebuke
is a duty; it is quite another to
keep up a scattering fire of small shot
in the way of sarcasm, inuendo, and
complaint, for half a day at a time.
The true remedy, in nine cases out of
leu, wntru L'liuuiiJbLitnctra ?ie vuukiuijr
is to accept the situation. "Beware of
desperate steps?the darkest day, live
till to-morrow, will have passed
away."
The most aggravating servant, the
roost provoking neighbor, and the
most wilful child, are not proof against
serene self-control and generous kindness,
while fault-finding sows seed
that comes up in a harvest of new antagonisms.
Accept the situation,
whatever it is, with eourageand cheerfulness
; and remember that neither
nerves, temper, carving knives, nor
coffee, were ever in the slightest degree
improved by scolding.
^ ^
Keep Your Conscieuce Clear.
Whosoever believes that knavery,
cruelty, hypocrisy, or any other vice,
can, uuder any circumstance, pro
mote even the temporal happiness of
him who practices it, is but a superficial
observer and a shallow reasoner.
In the world's parlance, men who acquire
wealth and influence by unwarrantable
means are called prosperous.
But what is prosperity in the true and
legitimate sense of the word ? Webster
tells us: "Advance or gain in
anything good." No man can be
deemed truly prosperous whose con
science is ill at ease, ana wnosoever
enriches himself at the expense of justice,
duty and honor, plunges his soul,
even here, into a state of adversity,
which no indulgence of the senses, no
adulteration of time-servers and parasites,
nothing that money can buy or
power command, will effectually or
permanently relieve.
Another strong argument iu favor of
doing right is, that out of every hundred
men who seek wealth by dishonorable
roads, ninety-nine come to poverty
and shame. This is a fact, and
taken in combination with the undeniable
truth, that the small percentage
of aspiring knaves who win their
game, feel in their souls that it has
been dearly won at the sacrifice of inward
peace and seif-esteem should long
have made all the world honest, on
selfish principles.
xne retrospective review ui ? uiso^r
pointed scamp must be melancholy in
the extreme. He sees, of course, with
terrible distinctness, how each departure
from rectitude helped to cloud his
life, sink him deeper in misery, and
alienate him from the sympathies of
the noble and the good. He is conscious
of the besotted blindness which
led him to put his trust in cunning
and chicane, instead of choosing the
path of duty and leaving the consequences
to Providence, is compelled to
acknowledge to himself that roguery is
the twin of folly, and a pure life the
best evidence of a sound brain as well
as of a Christian spirit.
Be assured, therefore, that it is good
worldly policy to keep the conscience
clear: It tends to comfort, content,
and produces real happiness; nor can
this fair earth, and the excellent things
with which it abounds, be thoroughly
enjoyed by any Croesus to whose gold
cling the curses of the wronged. The
closing scenes of a life are, however,
the grand test of the wisdom or folly
which has shaped its course. Sir
Walter Scott's dying words tell the
whole story: "Be a good man, Lock
hart; nothing else will comfort you
when you come to lie here."
A >Toble Act of Heroism.
I remember a little incident that
happened many years ago. When I
was in Cornwall, in 1854,1 visited the
mine where the incident occurred.
C'arlyle refers to the story in one of
the chapters of his "Life of Sterling."
Two men were sinking a shaft. It
was a dangerous business, for it was
necessary to blast the rock. It was
their custom to cut the fuse with a
sharp knife. One man then entered
the bucket and made a signal to be
hauled up. When the bucket again
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aud with one hand on the signal rope
and the other holding the fire, he
touched the fuse, made the signal, and
was rapidly drawn up before the explosion
took place.
One day they left the knife above,
and rather than ascend to procure it
they cut the fuse with a sharp stone.
It took fire. "The fuse is on fire!"
Both men leaped into the bucket, and
made the signal; but the windlass
would haul up but one at atime ; only
one could escape. One of the men
leaped out, and said to the other, "Up
wi' ye; I'll be in heaven in a mimute."
With lightning speed the bucket
was drawn up, and the one man
was saved. The explosion took place.
Men descended, expecting to find the
mangled body of the other miner;
but the blast had loosened a mass of
rock, and it lav diaeronallv across him :
and with the exception of a few bruises
and a little scorching, he was unhurt.
"When asked why he urged his
comrade to escape, he gave a reason
that skeptics would laugh at. I would
not be what is called a "skeptic" today
for all the wealth of the world.
But what did this hero say wheu asked,
"Why did you insist on this other
man's ascending?" In his quaint
dialect, he replied : "Because Iknowed
my soul was safe; for I've gie it in
the hands of Him of whom it is said,
that faithfulness is 'the girdle of His
reins,' and I knowed that what I gled
Him He'd never gie up. But t'other
chap was an awful wicked lad, and I
wanted to gie him another chance,"
All the infidelity in the world cannot
produce such a signal act of heroisn as
that.?Anon.
More Room.
When every nook and corner seems
full, consider the walls. A greatniany
things may be hung on a strip of wood
runuing across your bedroom or kitchen
wall covered from dust by a calico
curtain. Envelope bags, straightened
by ropes or lath strip, may hang anywhere
to hold aprons, collars, hats,
newspapers, everything. Packing
boxes may be placed one above another
and shelved and curtained, or small
ones may be padded like ottomans and
used for seats and cases to hold bed
linen or underclothing. A few yards
of bright chintz adorn a room wonderfully
in the way of curtains, chair
;covers and scrap bags.
The Hired Assassin.
HY REV. GEO. C. BECK WITH.
Everybody in Massachusetts sixty
years old remembers well what was
called "the Salem tragedy" of 1826.
Joseph and Francis Knapp, distant relatives
of a rich old gentleman in Salem,
by the name of White, instigated
Richard Crowninshield, by the offer of
a thousand dollars of the plunder, to
kill the old man, and seize his treasures.
Crowninshield, entering the
house of his victim at midnight, and
creeping softly up stairs to the room
where he was sleeping, struck him
over the head with a bludgeon, and
then turning down the clothes, stabbed
him several times in the heart
with a dagger. Everybody called him
a hired assassin ; and he would have
been hung as an atrocious murderer,
if he had not, in his prison, hung
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convicted and hung for hiring Crowninshield
to assassinate Mr. White,
j Here is a clear case of hired assassination
; aud wherein does it differ
from the profession of a soldier ?
Doubtless there is some difference;
[but in what does it consist, and te
what does it amount? How far are
the two professions or acts alike ?
Let us look at the facts. Here is a
nation of ten, twenty or fifty millions,
that hire you as one of their soldiers
to kill whosoever they may wish to
have killed. The nation, indignant
that the Chinese spurn their opium, or
that the Afghams reject their favorite
ruler, or that the Seminoles will not
give up their lands, the inheritance
of fifty generations, to some avaricious
white man, order you to go and kill
them, burn their dwellings, and butcher,
without distinction or mercy,
thousands of unoffending men, women
and children.
We see now the facts in the two
cases ; and what is the difference ?
The deed is the same, except that in
one case a single man was killed, and
in the other thousands or scores of
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tially the same?with the employers,
self-aggrandizement; with the hired
agents, pay. The difference, for there
is some, will not redound much to the
soldier's credit over the assassin; the
soldier hires himself to millions of
men called a nation; Crowninshield
hired himself to only two men. The
soldier hires him&elf out to kill whomsoever
the nation may wish to have
killed at any time; the assassin engages
to do a specified act, to kill a
single man at a given time, and that
man named beforehand. The soldier
is hired to kill by the month or year ;
the assassin is hired by the job. The
soldier is a day laborer in the work of
blood ; assassin is a jobber at the same
trade. The assassin is better paid than
the soldier; for the former was promised
a thousaud dollars for killing
one man, while tne latter migni kiu a
hundred in a day without getting half
a dollar for the whole. The soldier
agrees to kill any and all whom the
nation may bid; and if required to
shoot his own father or mother, brother
or sister, wife or child, he must
shoot them, or be shot himself;
whereas the assassin, had he refused
to kill the old man according to agreement,
would not himself have been
liable to be hung.
Truly, the soldier makes a fearful
bargain. If he refuses to kill any
whom the nation may bid him kill,
he must himself be put to death. He
nevertheless enters into the bloody
compact, not knowing but he may be
ordered to shoot or stab his own parents,
wife or children. Not quite so
bad the assassin's bargain. Had
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time anybody whom the Knapps
might wish to have killed, with the
understanding that he should himself
be put to death if he ever refused to
kill anyone they should bid, there
would be a pretty close analogy between
his case and that of the professed
soldier. But the assassin's position
was not so terrible. The soldier must
kill whomsoever his employers may
bid him kill, or the terms of his contract
make him liable to be shot or
hung himself.
Now, tell us why a hired assassin,
like Crowninshield, should be hung aa
a monster of wickedness, while the
soldier, hired by twenty millions to do
the same deed by wholesale, is adimred
and eulogized as a hero f To kill
multitudes at the bidding of millions,
is deemed patriotic, glorious, worthy
of songs, and eulogies, and monuments
; but to kill one man at the bidding
of another one is denounced as
base, lniamous, uiat>oiicai, deserving
of the gallows, of eternal infamy.
Well did Bishop Porteus say,
"One murder makes a vllllan ;
Millions a hero."
His Horse Exposed Him.
Robbers and other cowardly rascals
who live by taking mean advantage of
other people would seldom get away
with their plunder if promptly and
shrewdly followed up, as the highwayman
was in this English story. A
Quaker was returning home one evening
on a particularly fine horse, when
he was stopped by a man with his face
blackened, mounted on a nag whose
ribs, bones and joints one could count
through its skin ; but not its teeth, for
.those had disappeared, not through
! eating hay, but chaff.
I "Holy man," said the newcomer,
"my horse, which can yet dimly remember
the landing of Julius Ciesar,
stands sorely in need of 9uch attention
as yours appears to enjoy. If you like
we'll exchange. You have no pistol,
and I have."
The Quaker considered : What's to
be done? At any rate, I have a second
horse at home, but not a second
life. So they exchanged, and the robber
quietly rode off townward with
the Quaker's horse. The Quaker,
however, led the robber's starved beast
by the bridle, and, upon arriving at
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saying: "Lead the way, thou bag of
bones; thou caust better find thy master's
stable than I."
He followed the horse up street and
down till it stopped at a stable-door
and would go no further. The Quaker
entered the house, and found the thief
just rubbing the soot from his face
with an old stocking. "Lo, thou hast
got home, friend," said the Quaker;
"and if thou hast no objection, we will
amend our exchange, for it was not
lawfully made. Give me back my
horse; thine is at the door."
The rascal, seeing he was outwitted,
had no choice but to deliver up the
stolen horse.?Good Cheer.
, ? * ??
The Dangerous Flat Wheel.
As a train was pulling out of the
West side Union Station in Chicago a
passenger sat still a moment as if listening
to something and then rose from
his seat, picked up his luggage, and
asked his travelling companion to go
with him into the first car ahead.
"But we have just got comfortably
seated here," replied the other ; "why
should we make a change ? Car too
hot for you ?"
"No, the temperature is all right."
"Too cold, mebbe?"
"No, it's not too cold."
"Then what is the matter? Why
should we go into the front car?"
"Well I'll tell you. You know I
used to be a railroad man, a conductor,
and, of course, I picked up some ideas
on the road that a man gets only from
experience. As soon as the train started
my ears told me there was flat wheel
under this car. Don't you hear it rapping
on the rails? Wait till the train
slows up for the first stop, and then
you'll hear it?running too fast now.
Yes, sir, car wheels flatten out and
have to be closely watched. Some imperfection
or unevenness in the iron
or some extraordinary blow on a rail
or obstruction, makes an impression
ou the surface of the wheel and then
every revolultion thereafter adds to
the injury. A wheel will flatten out
ill a remarkably short time, and on
long runs of through trains a flat
whpel is a source of dauger. If this
wheel runs from here to New York,
aud happens to be a pretty soft wheel, '
the chances are that it will arrive there
in a very bad condition, after doing as
much damage to the track as the company
will get iu passenger money from
all the occupants of the car. Of course
there's not much danger ; but I make .
it a rule never to ride in car that has a
flat wheel under it, and if you don't j
mind we'll go up ahead."?Chicago 1
Herald.
Feeding Corn to Horses. 1
Corn is the bane of the farm-horse,
as it is also of the horse doing any other
sort of work, not because of not being
sufficiency nutritious, but because
it makes too much fat and not enough
muscle. The horse's muscle wears 1
away under exercise, but its disappear- '
ance in no wise lessens the power for '
either draft or speed. On the other
hand, well nourished and vigorously
exercised muscles, with a deposit of fat
to keep them company, are much more
efficient for any purposes for which
j the horse is kept than when there is a
load of fat to be carried. The trainer
acts upon the proposition, and works
the fat off, experience having shown
that the muscles, trained down by exercise
until fat accumulations are removed?fattening
foods being mainly
abstained from?give the best results
in a case of a speedy horse. The same
rule will hold good with the work-horse,
though modified by the degree to
which the movements of the latter are
slower than those of the former. If the
farmer has only corn for fc^ then he
will be wise to make sale of liT^corn,
or the greater part of it, buying oatmeal
instead. If corn be used whole
or in part, the effect should be carefully
noted as to the extent to which fermentation
sets in, meeting this by use
of salt and ashes, at once lessening the
amount of corn fed. It will be found
that horses fed freely on corn will eat 1
earth when allowed access to it, as to
' \
a degree this neutralizes the acid generated
in the stomach and gives relief, j
Corn may be rated as the natural food ^
for fattening stock?such as are fed for
their flesh. All kinds .of fattening
stock are made ripe on corn, with the (
addition of an allowance of coarse feed
for fodder. Ripeness in a horse is a
very different thing from ripeness in
the steer, for in one case it means full
1 ]
vigor of muscle with an absence of fat J
and in the other an abundance of fat,
no matter how much, and as to the
muscle, no matter how inefficient the
work.
Though a Christian's obediencecan't
merit Heaven, it is a blessed token of
his meetness for it.
Cultivate a sense of an all-seeing
Eye, one whom you would not for the
world offend.
A Story by John B. Gougli.
A young man once advised me to
advocate pure moral suasion. At a
meeting where this y. ung man was
present I said to the audience, pointing
to him : "Some say we ought to
advocate moral suasion exclusively.
Now I will give you a fact. Thirteen
miles from this place there lived a woman,
a good mother, a good woman."
I then related her story as she
told it :
My husband is a drunkard. I have
worked, [and hoped, and prayed, but I
almost gave up in despair. He went
away and was gone ten days. He
came back ill with the small-pox.
Two of the children took it, and both
of them died. I nursed my husband
through his long sickness?watched
over him night and day, feeling that
he could not drink again, nor ever
again abuse me. I thought he would
remember all this experience. Mr.
Leonard kept a liquor-shop about
three doors from my house, and soon
after my husband was well enough to
get out. Mr. Leonard invited him in
and gave him some drink. He was
tben worse than ever. He now beats
me, and bruises me I
went into Mr. Leonard's shop one day,
nerved almost to madness, and said:
"Mr. Leonard, I wish you would not
sell my husband any more drink."
"Get out of this," said he, "away
with you. This is no place for a woman
; clear out."
"a ut I don't want you to sell him
any more drink."
"Get out, will you? If you wasn't
a woman I would kick you into the
middle of the street."
"But, Mr. Leonard, please don't sell
my husband any more drink."
"Mind your own business, I say."
"But my husband's business is
mine," she pleaded.
"Get out! If you don't I will put
you out."
I ran out and the man was
very angry. Three days after, a neighbor
came in and said : "Mrs. Tuttle,
your Ned's just been sent out of Leonard's
shoD so drunk that he can hard
ly stand?"
"What! my child, who is only ten
years old?"
"Yes."
The child was picked up in the
street and brought home, and it was
four days before he got about again. I
then went into Leonard's shop and
saiil: 'You gave my boy, Ned, drink.'
"Get out of this, I tell you," said
the man.
I said : "I don't want you to give
my boy drink any more. You have
ruined my husband; for God's sake
spare my child," and I went down
upon my knees, and tears ran down
my cheeks. He then took me by the
shoulders and kicked me out of doors.
"Then," said I, pointing directly to
my friend, "young man, you talk of
moral suasion? Suppose that woman
was your mother, what would you do
to the man that kicked her!" He
jumped up from his seat, and said:;
I'd kill him! That's moral suasion,
is it ? Yes, I'd kill I'm kill a woodchuck
that had eaten my beans."
Now, we do not go as far as that;
we do not believe in killing or persecuting,
but we believe in prevention
and Prohibition.?Prohibition Bombs.
A Word About Bread.
A physician's daughter thus writes
to an exchange : "In the 'household'
;olumn I read of so many woes in
bread making that it is a wonder why
no one has yet suggested substituting
Dther food for bread. Some of the best
physicians now avoid 'suppers,' and
bave 6 P. M. dinners purposely to
ivoid bread and cake. There is no excuse
for bread at breakfast and dinner,
while for 'supper' stewed potatoes,
with poached eggs or cold meat, could
form the principal part of the meal,
lddingsoft custard, with fruit and delicate
cake; bread is unnecessary. The
children of our family have for breakfast
hominy or oatmeal with potatoes,
fruits, delicate meats, with milk, and
perhaps a cracker. For dinner, meat
3r chicken, asparagus, potatoes and
ather healthy vegetables and fruits,
with rice or other simple dessert, while
at supper, stewed potatoes, milk, eggs
ar cold chicken, cottage cheese, blancmange,
with occasionally a little simple
cake."
m
Valuable Advice to Young Girls.
A lady of intelligence and observation
has remarked: "I wish I could
impress upon the minds of the girls
that the chief end of woman is not to
marry young." If girls could only be
brought to believe that their chances
for a liannv marriage were better after
twenty-five than before, there would
be much less misery iu the world than
there now is. To be sure, they might
not have so many opportunities to
marry as before, but, as they?do not
need to marry but one at a time, it is
necessary that one should be satisfactory.
As a girl grows older, if she
thinks at all, she certainly becomes
more capable of judging what whoukl
make her happy than when younger.
How many girls of twenty would
think of marrying the man they
would gladly have married at sixteen?
At thirty a woman who is somewhat
independent, 'and not over-anxious to I
marry, is much harder to please and
more careful in her choice than one at
twenty. There is good reason for
this. Her mind has improved with
her years, and she now looks beyond
mere appearances in judging men.
She is apt to ask if this man who is so
very polite in company is really
kind-hearted. Do his polite genial
actions spring from a happy nature,
or is his attractive demeanor
put on for the occasion and laid off' at
home, as he lays ofl' his coat? A very
young girl takes it for granted that
meu are always as she sees them in society?polite,
friendly, and on their
good behavior. If she marries early
the man who happens to please her
fancy, she learns to her sorrow that in
nine cases out of ten a man in society
and a man at home are widely different
beings. Five years at that period
of life produce a great change in opinions
and feelings. We frequently come
to detest at twenty-five what we admired
at sixteen.?Scottish American
Journal.
A Remedy for Diutheria.
Very considerable interest has been
excited in foreign medical circles by
M. Broadel's successful treatment of
diphtheria by the use of benzoate of
sodium. He asserts that of 200 consecutive
cases he has not lost a single one
and, though admitting the posibility
of a mistaken diagnosis in some instances,
yet, even excluding 50 per
cent, on this account, there remain 100
cases without a death. His method is
to have the patient take, every hour, a
tablespoonful of a solution of benzoate
of sodium, fifteen grains to the ouuce,
and at the same time one-sixth of a
grain of sulphide of calcium in syrup
or granule; in addition to. this the
throat is thoroughly scraped every half
hour with the benzoate, this Deing
done unfailingly at the regular intervals,
day and night, with no other local
treatment whatever. No attempt
is made to dislodge the false membrane.
The nourishment consists of
beef juice, tender meat, milk, etc..
but bread and all other articles which
may cause irritation of the throat are
forbidden.? New York Tribune,
T)n Not Dflsnnir.
The word "pattern" in the original
is expressive?a pattern from which
endless copies may be taken. You
have heard of stereotype printing;
when the types are set up they are
cast?made a fixed thing, so that from
one plate you can strike off thousands
of pages is succession without the
trouble of setting up the types again.
Paul says, "That I might be a plate
never worn out?never destroyed;
from which proof impressions may be
taken to the very end of time." What
a splendid thought, that the apostle
Paul, having portrayed himself as the
chief of sinners, then portrays himself
as having received forgiveness for a
grand and specific end, that he might
be a standing plate, from which impressions
might be taken forever, that
no man might despiar who had read
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One Kind of Repentance.
A child who, like all children, was
excessively fond of sweets, disobeyed
her mother and helped herself to a
plate of rich cake, of which she ate
freely. She soon grew feverish, complained
of headache, and was obliged
to go to bed for the remainder of the
day.
Her mother was anxious about her
I condition and feared she was going to
bed ill. On entering her closet, however,
the empty plate and the crumbs
on the lloor explained the mystery of
the sudden attack. She went to her
child's room.
"Have you been eating anything
you ought not, Nellie?"
Nellie looked in her mother's face
and saw that she had found out about
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it.
"Yes, mamma, late some cake."
"No wonder you are sick. You
took the cake without leave, which
was stealing; and you disobeyed me
by going into the closet when I have
repeatedly told you not to do so. Now
you are being punished for your sins.
Are you sorry, Nellie ?" she asked,seeing
the child's tears falling fast.
"Yes, mamma," she sobbed. "I'm
sorry the cake made sick, and sorry
you found it out."
Her repentance was very much like
that of many older people; she was
sorry that her sin was found out, and
that she had to suffer in consequence;
but that was all. '
Another Remedy for Hog Cholera.
A waiter in the Southern Planter, of
Richmond, Va., says to the Commissioner
of Agriculture : "I will place
in your hands one hundred dollars to
pay for hogs if they should die with
the sio-called hog cholera, if you will
have tested the following remedy,
which I have used with great success :
Take a sack of salt and a barrel of hard
wood ashes, (hickory or oak preferred.)
mix the salt and ashes thoroughly,
prepare a box of any conveninent size,
put it under cover where the hogs can
have free access to it at all times, and
keep a supply of the mixture in it.
This mixture will cost you offe dollar,
some trouble, hut will be sufficient for
several hogs for one year.
The religion which costs its owner
nothing is probably worth about its
cost.
Example.
We scatter the reeds careless bands,
And dream we ne'er shall see tbem more;
But for a thousand years
Their fruit appears.
In weeds that roar the land.
Or healthful store.
The deeds we do, the words we say,
Into the still air they seem to fleet,
We count them ever past,
But they shall last;
In the dread Judgment they
And we shall meet.
I charge thee by the yearo gone by,
For the love's sake of brethren dear.
Keep thou the one true way,
In work and play,
Lest in that world their cry ;
Of woe thou hear.
Lost Opportunities.
A gentle, gracious old lady, of seven?
ty, lately tofd the following incident
to her grandchildren. We give as
nearly as possible her own words:
"I drove out one day when I was a
young girl to the park. Some triffle
had occurred to irritate me; a disappointment
probably about a dress or
bat. I left the carriage and bidding
the coachman drive on, sat down on a
hpnrth near t,h? river. Some children
were playiug under the trees, their
nurses looking on. I remember that
their noise anuoyed me and that I
tried to control my own ill-humor.
But I thought, Why should I not be .
ill-humored if I choose ? I was alone;
it could harm nobody.
"A man jstood near me, leaning
against a tree. He attracted my attention,
because his clothes were of fine
quality, though worn and ragged.
There was something about his air and
manner, too, which betokened gentle
breeding. He turned and saw me
lookiug at him, and, apparently following
a sudden impulse, came up and
asked me for work. I was not frightened,
for * his manner was perfeactly
respectful, but I was angry at being
annoyed by a stranger.
" 'What work could I have tor
you?' " I said. . ,J . "
'That is true.' He bowed and
turned away. I sat by the river for a
while, and then went to meet the carriage,
which was returning.
"The*man aarain stomped me. 'You
are young,' he said. 'You ought to
have more mercy than the world. I
am a very wretched man. If you
would use your influence, could you ^
not get me work?' "His
voice was so hoarse, I thought
he had been drinking. I hurried on
without speaking. The ooachman
threatened him with his whip, seeing
that I was annoyed. I went home,
but the mau's pale face haunted nw
all that night.
"The next morning my father read
from the paper: 'The body of a man
was found last night in the rlverabov?
the dam. It proved to be a Virginian,
named Hall, who had qeen struggling
with poverty and ill-health in the city
for months. He had been travelingthe
day before; had applied for work to
every man he met' His last appeal
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would have saved him. It was a terrible
lesson. Fifty years have passed
since then, but even now I awake at
night with that man's face before me."
The consequences of our careless
neglect of the poor are not often
brought home to us in such away.
Yet we may be certain that every
time we turn away from a needy broth- .
er, we leave him to evil influences
which we might have changed into
good ones. Every beggar, every creature,
hurt or hungry in body or soul,
that ;comes in our path, is an opportunity
given to us by God, to make
ouselves like Master in his compassion
and kindness. "Inasmuch," the
! Savior tells us, "as ye did it not to one
of the least of these, ye did It not to
me.? Youth1 s Companion.
New Syuonymmes.
"Buy and buy"?a woman shopping
Always on time?pawuoroKer?.
Counter balance?light weights.
All for show?the circus.
In United States?married couples.
Coming down?dude's moustache.
A good watering place?Bath Maine.
Traveling on water?Prohibition
ticket.
Easily seen through?spectacles.
Just shocking?electric battery.
Always on top?the roof.
High sounding?bells in the steeple.
Well drawn?pump water.
Stuck up?wall paper.
Backbiting is the habit of dogs, and
only mean dogs at that; it certainly
cannot be a characteristic of good
Christians. And as for sanctitied persons,
we would naturally conclude
that they have 110 teeth to use in this
way; it were impossible that they
could be found biting at the back of a
brother by sly innuendo, by damaging
miarenresea tation. bv tale-bearincr and
gossip. So it would appear from what
is required in the Bible of Christians,
and from what is olaimed by all profe^oors
of sanctificatiou. The Scriptures
plainly forbid evil speaking, and
all professors of perfect holiness assert
that the blood of Jesus cleanses irom
all sin. But what are the facts revealed
in practical life ? We know that
many converted persons are not saved
from backbiting ; it is a habit with
them to do more or less of detraction ;
and is it not a sad fact that even those
who witness to the attainment of full
redemption are found sometimes nipping
ut the backs of their brethreu ?
Their teeth are not sanctified?at least
not wholly.?Divine Life,