Beaufort Republican. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1871-1873, August 22, 1872, Image 1
IThe Beaufort Republican.
AN INDEPENDENT FAMILY NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO POLTTICS, LITERATURE, AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. OUR MOTTO IS-TRUTH WITHOUT FEAR.
VOL. IT. NO 46. BEAUFORT, S. G, THURSDAY, AUGUST 22, 1872. (
Kitty's Choice.
P A wealthy old farmer was Absalom Lee,
He had but one daughter, the mischievous
K;tty;
So fair, and so good, and so gentle was she,
That lovers came wooing from country and
city;
The first and the boldest to ask for her hand
Was a trimly-dressed dandy, who worshiped
her tin;
She replied, with a smile he would well understand,
" That she'd marry no ape for the sake of his
skin P
The next was a merchant from business retired.
Rich, gouty, and gruff -a presuming old sinner
;
^ And thought to himself," I can easily wjn her."
80 he showed her his palace and made a bluff
bow,
And 6aid she might live there but wickedly
then
Kitty told him she'd long ago made a rash vow
it V^4. A/-v ? Kofis Iaf fKo oolro r\f Viia rlftn!w
iiut IV IXiailJ A l/VHl IV* *ruv VW**V v. M*W MWM.
A miser came next he was fearless and bold
In claiming his right to fair Kitty's affection ;
He said she'd not want for a h&uee while his
gold
Could pay for a cabin to give her protection,
a Half vexed at his boldness, but calm in a trice,
mf* She curts:ed and thanked him, and blushmgly
then
Demurely repeated her sage aunt's advice,
"Not to marry a hog for the sake of his
pen 1"
The next was a farmer, young.bashful and shy;
He feared the bold wooers from the citv;
But the flush on his cheek and the light in his
eye
Soon kindled a flame in the bosom of Kitty.
" My 'ife will be one of hard labor," he said,
" But darling, come share it with me, if you
can."
" I suppose," she replied, gaily tossing her
head,
" I must marry the farm for the sake of the
man !w
Birr YOUR OWN CHERRIES.
It was abont 3 o'clock one scorching
hot, Saturday afternoon in July, when
John Lewis, the carpenter, laid down his
hammer on the bench, pnt his hand in his
pocket, and drew out a few coppers, "Just
the price of a pint," as he said to himself;
so he resolved to step across the road to
the " Golden Eagle," and have some ale
to slake his thirst. Just as he opened the
K " bar" door, what should he see on the
polished counter, but a plate of beautiful
ripe cherries, the sight of which made
John's mouth water so freely, that, ere
he knew exactly what he was doing, he
had stretched out his hand to take a few,
when the ehrill voice of the landlady
called out:
" Yon touch 'em if yon dare, sir!"
" John was startled ; but before he could
reply, she added:
" The idea of taking such liberties! I
should like to know what yon are thinking
about ?"
" Well, missus, I was only going to take
one or two to wet my whistle."
44 Yon had better not try it on," she replied
with warmth.
44 Why not; you won't mind my having
h few. will you ? I am so thirsty, and
they look so tempting,' said John, thinking
she was joking.
44 No sir. not one. I have just bought
'em as a treat for mv children; they are
a tine sort, and very dear."
44 Well, just let me try one."
44No. not one!" she answered, with
determination in every look; 44if yon
&* wart anv, go and 4 buv your own cher
rie*!'"
41 Well, I was going to have a pint of
your best," replied John ; 44 but I think
I'll take your advice. and go and buy ;
some cherries instead," and turning round,
he walked out of the shop.
Th^ landlady saw in a moment she had
made a mistake, and called loudly for
John to come back. This only made liini
quick* ri bis steps to get away as fast as
he could.
4* Well, I've done it now," she said a?
taking up the plate of cherries, she passed
into the bar-narlor; 44 what a stupid I
w as, not to let him have just one or two.
H*1 is too good a cnstomer to lose without
an effort, so I must look out for him when
he comes to pay his score, and coax him :
he must he won over again if possible."
She thus tried to calm down tier teehngs
while these thoughts passed through her
mind.
As she was thns planning his ruin, he
was tar down the street, looking ont for a
shop where fruit was sold. As soon a*
he caught sight ot some cherries, he called
out :
' Here, master, left me have three pen"orrh
of those cherries, will yon?"
'' Yes. sir." said the man, and soon
placed in his hand the cherries in a paper
hag. with which John at once returned to
the workshop. All this had taken place
in a few minutes, and the events had come
so quick)v one upon the other that he
had hardlv time to feel the full force of
the treatment lie had r? ceived. Hut when
he had opened the hag of cherries on the
bench, and put one in his mouth, its
sweetness seemed to bring hack the sour
words of the landlady with such additional
force that they seemed to "stick in
hi- throat." As he swallowed the jniov
frnH, each seemed to repeat the landlady's
word*, "Buy vonr own cherries."
"Yes. that I will," said John to himself,
"if this is the way you serve a fellow.
after spending many a pound with
von ; and now to begrudge me even a
paltrv cherry !" And striking his hammer
on the nail, as he muttered the words, its
sound seemed to answer back to him,
" B iv your own cherries."
All the rest of that afternoon these
words haunted him. Do what he would,
the saw, tlie plane, and every other tool,
gave the same advice. At times he appeared
to grow desperate, and from his
lips would rush the words, " Buy your
town cherries.1'
"Ah! yes," said he, as his wounded
"conscience galled him, " I've bought them
too long for her and her children; I'll
take care of number one for the future. I
shall then not only be able to buy 4my
own cherries.'but many other sweet things
beside."
\t length the hell rang for leaving off
work. John went to the conntiDg house
, and received hie wages, which amounted
generally to abont thirty shillings per ,
week. Now, altbongh he was in the; ]
habit of paying frequent visits to the; j
public-house, lie was not by any means ]
what people would call a drunkard. In- <
deed, he would have felt insulted if any <
one had dared to apply such a term to 1
tiim, and, no doubt, would have been
ready in his way to prove that he only ,
took what he thought would do him good. ,
It was true he did on a Saturday night ,
sometimes get over the score, as the (
friendly glass went round more freely (
than usual, and also went home later now (
and then. But the cheerful song caused ]
the time to fly so fast that he felt he must j
prove that he was a good fellow, who ,
must do as otfiers do. If at such times ,
the wife complained that the money left (
was barely sufficient to purchase the need- ,
ful things for the coming week, he was ,
apt to tell her to "mind her own busi- .
ness," and a few sharp words between ]
them would often follow. But, alas 1 <
such scenes are too well known to need j
description, and Mary, like many others, \
had grown weary with complaining; so }
she had firmly resolved to do her best to j
make the house as comfortable as her |
limited means would allow, and, by kind <
words and looks, to strive to make the |
heme as attractive as possible, feeling as- j
sored that by such means she might expect
to draw him from the public-house ; ,
the opposite course would most likely ,
drive and keep him there. I
John, having received his wages, went 1
back to his bench, and for a few minutes 1
stood with his money in his hand, evi- 1
dently hesitating what to do. s
"Well, what shall I do?" at length he 1
said to himself. u I must go and pay my 1
score, for J don't wish to l?e dishonest. It 1
I knew how much it was I'd send it; but 1
never mind, I'll go and pay her off and <
have done with her forever." 1
In a few minutes he was once more 1
within the reach ot the landlady of the
" Golden Eagle."' ]
The moment she caught 6ight of him ,
she put on her best smiles, and without (
giving him time to utter a word, said in |
the most pleasant way she conld: ]
" I am so glad to see you, John. We've |
just tapped a barrel of our best." Draw- <
ing a glass and holding it to him, she ]
added, " I wish your opinion of it." (
" No, thank you, I don't want any," ,
said John; " I've come to pay you what I
owe. How much is it ?"' ]
"What's your hurry?" said Mrs. Boni- |
face. " Come, take a glass like a man !" \
" No, not a drop," said John; " I want ]
to be off."
"Well, will you have a glass of some- ,
thing short ?" she asked again, very pi ess- .
ing. "Tom Smith's in the parlor, and ,
Dick Bates will be here directly ; you're |
not going just yet!" 1
" Will vou let me know how much I ^
owe you !" said John, getting impatient, ,
"or I'll go without settling." t
"Ah! I see now that I put my foot ?
into it this afternoon, and offended yon," i
said the landlady ; " bat I hope yon won't <
mind a few words spoken in haste; come, ,
do let us be friends once more." 4
" Not a dram will I take here or snv
where else, if! know it; and a9 to offend- j
ing me, I don't see that it matters to you
so long as you get your money." ,
" But," said the landlady, while she was t
reckoning up the P's and Q's (pints and
quarts), don't like to quarrel with any I
one, especially with you. Now do let us <
make it up; and as for the cherries, why t
I was only joking, as you will see, for I've
kept them on purpose for you"?fetching
them out of the parlor?" see, here they ?
are." t
"No. thank you," said John, with a
smile; " I took your advice and wentand j
bought some, which weredelicious. Now, ,
take what 1 owe you out of this sover- f
eign, for I want to be off. s
"I don't like," said the landlady, as j
she took up the money, " really to change \
this without your tasting something. 1
What will yon take?" (
"Nothing, I say again; I don't believe ,
in your throwing a sprat to catch a mack- t
erel." said John, speaking impatiently.
Taking up his change, lie walked out. and t
was soon 011 his way home. f
" Well, I have made a nice mess of it 1
this time!" thought the landlady. "If 1
nver I get caught again losing my temper, \
I'll be bound it shall not. be over such a (
good customer rs iie has been. If it had c
been one of those noisy fellows I shouldn't c
have cared a bit; but a nice quiet fellow \
like John, who takes his glasses so regu- i
larly, and pays up so well every * ?ek. t
But I'll look out and lay my traps to. s
catch him before long, and the first chance ?
1 get to set him going again I will. He f
is not going to slip off in this way, I can 1
assure him; he is too good to lose with- J
out an effort; and he may depend upon it
that when 1 have him right again, I'll \
keep him, I warrant." 1
While she was thus planning in her g
own mind John's future capture, he had (
hurried home, and reached it, much to
ihe surprise of his wife, long before his t
?"? ?! Sil.o nnf tlio 1'L.ftlii f\l\ t
ICMItll liiinr. k'Wt owu [Ul HIV nvi'UV vii c
tor his tea, and, while setting the tea 1
things, the water boiled.
John t<?ok his tea almost in silence, *
which was so u nil sal that Mary was on
the point of asking him what was the 4
matter, or bow it was that lie was home 1
so soon. Jnst as she was going to speak
he put his hand in his pocket, and taking t
out some money, threw it in her lap, saying,
441 suppose you'll be going to market 1
soon. Mary ?"
44 Yes." said Mary, and she would have
added, 44And I shall be glad to go soon i
but she bad learned, by past experience,
thai she must not say too much on Satur- t
day night. Taking up ihe money, she i
went into the bed-room to put on her
bonnet and shawl. On looking to see ?
how much he had given her, she was >
surprised to see some three or four shil- f
lings more than usual. t
441 wonder whether he knows how
much he lias given me," thought Mary; s
but afraid if she returned to ask. be might [
want it back, she quickly passed down t
stairs int.; the street, rearing every mo- 1
rnent that he would be after her for the t
extra shillings. She had not gone far i
before "-he heard some one running fast 1
behind her. and thinking to be sure it i
was lie, she looked round, but found, to j
i.er great joy, that it was only a boy. So
on she went, and being a thrifty body, t
who knew how to lay out money in the i
beet way, she quickly visited the different {
shops, and bought the needful things that
her family would want during the coining '
week ; adding to her store a few comforts
which the extra shillings enabled her to j
buy. When she came hack with her basket
well filled from market, she found, <
from what the children told her, that i
John started almost directly after her. ar
lad not returned ; so she feared lest, aft<
ill. he had gon<. in search of her. Wh<
le did come in nothing was said on eithi
side. Thus the night ended with th
mrious coldness which drink often cans*
between man and wife.
Sunday was spent in John's usual ma'
ler. In the morning he went out for
ivalk, and after dinner stayed at home 1
ead the newspaper. When the shad*
>f evening gathered around, he strolU
iut and did not return until after 1
1'clock. This being a regular thing wil
lim, no notice was taken of it. Yet Mai
:hought John quiet and dull, and oni
ventured to ask him kindly whether J
n-as Vrell. As he said he was all righ
?he did not venture to question him ar
nore about it, thinking it best to ws
ind see what was up. All the next we<
>assed off at home without any chang
But, John, not liking to return hon
sooner than usual, went on Monday to
:emperance meeting. He was so raut
nterested with what he heard, that wh<
mother meeting was announced to 1
leld not far from there the next evenin
>ie decided to go; and from what tl
'peakers said of the good it had dot
For them and their families, he signed tl
pledge.
On the next Saturday, when the bt
'ang, and John went to the office for h
wages, he felt a thr'll of joy run throuf
bim, as he retired to a qniet corner of tl
workshop after receiving them. Lookir
it the sovereign and a half which lay
bis hand, he said, " It is many a long di
?ince I could say you both belonged
me; and now T have got you I'll tal
?ood care I don't part with yon unlesss
?et plenty out of you." Clasping tl
money in his hand, and putting it and i
contents into his pocket, you might ha'
heard him say, " I'll buy my own cherrit
Jiat I will."
He at once started off home, which 1
reached of course even sooner than tl
week before. Mary was doubly pleas<
:o see him, and soon placed the tea befo
him, and bustled about the room, doir
ler best to keep the children quiet. SI
'elt once or twice almost 011 the point
saying hew pleased she was, but check*
herself, lest he might, when giving h
he money, stop some for what she thong
:he last week's mistake.
When he had nearly finished his me
he said, 44 Well. Mary, you'll he wantii
to go a marketing directly, I snppoe*
there's your money," throwing it in h
ap.
She felt as if her heart was ready
link as she took the money in her^han
'Ah!" she thought, 11 he has soon stopp<
the overplus of last week," but thinkii
iy the light of the fire it looked rath
pellow, she went to the window (for
was a narrow street in which they live
where the daylight never fairly enten
he room, except by accident, or when
streak of sunlight shot its rays dow
imong them). " Can it be possible!
die thought; a sovereign and a half!" 1
with an utterance of surprise she aske
4 Is all this for me, John ?"
44 Yes," said John, 44 and I hope you
;ry and spend it well. '
441 hope yon haven't done any thii
wrong to get it, John," said Mary, tl
;ears standing in her eyes.
44 No, my lass," said John, while h
leart trembled with emotion; 441 tw
lone wrong long enough, and I am goir
:o try and do right for the future."
41 Rut?" said Mary.
44 Never mind any more questions now
iaid John; 44get your bonnet and shaw
md let us both go to market."
Mary did not need telling a second tin
:o i;et feady. But she kept all the whi
wondering how it was to be account!
or. However, while she was tying hi
itrings, she resolved that she would quie
v wait until John thought proper to gii
ler an explanation. Bidding Sally ar
r<>mmv take care of the other childrt
ind put them to bed, and to be sure ar
nind the house, they went out togetln
o market.
On the road, John briefly told her a!
ind the decision he had come to, ar
isked her to forgive him for the past, ar
lelp him to do better in the time to com
ro all of which of course, Mary listen<
vith trembling, yet joyful interest. The
onversation was soon stopped by the
joining to the first place that they shoul
all at, which was the butcher's, win
vhen he saw them together, ceased cr
ng, "What will you buy?" 14 For,
bought he. " they won't want much,
imall joint that everybody else leaves, <
loiue pieces in yonder corner at 4d.
)Ound." So he turned round to look i
lis stock of meat, with his back towan
fohn and Mary.
He was soon aroused by hearing John
mice, " I say, guv'nor, what's this leg <
nutton a pound ?" On looking round 1
taw John in the act of handling the joii
>f meat.
" The idea of your asking such a que
ion!" thought the butcher. But quit
is thought he said, 14 Eight pence a pout
;o yon!"
44 l ake it down and see wnat it weigns
ianl John.
44 Yes," thought the butcher to himsel
4 I'll weigh it, and that will settle yon,
enow."
14 It weighs just eight pounds, andcora<
o five shillings and four pence."
14 Now you are done," thought tl
jutcher.
44 I'll have it," said John.
4* Yes," thought the butcher, 41 wh(
rou've paid for it."
44 Here, Mary," said John, 44 give hi
he money," seeing the butcher lookir
ather doubtful at them both.
Mary pushed her finger inside her o
?love and brought out the soverereig
ind laid it on the butcher's block as car
iilly as if she was afraid of rubbing s
he gold off.
The butcher watched etery movemen
ind thought that all this care was on
>art of a plan to deceive him, and th
lie money of course was bad. So, takit
_ l_l _ l i J I 1
i Tip quiCKiy, ne Dounceo 11 imru upi
;he block to test its quality. But wh<
ts ring assured him that it was all rigli
lis face changed its expression and h
roice its tone, as he asked, with gre
politeness
44 Can I send it home for yon, sir?
;here any other article?beef, pork, etc:
while the change rested between his fi
?ers, as if he did not wish to part with i
44 No, said John," feeling rather vexe
4 nothing else to-night."
44Thank yon, sir. Let me see, you li<
it No. 20 Broad street, don't you ?"
44 Yes," said John, as Mary took op tl
change. They then passed out of tl
ihop.
id i Tt is not necessary to follow* them round s
er to the other shops. It is only right to e
in say that each shopkeeper was surprised a
er and pleased to receive larger orders and J
at more money, and of course showed an 1;
es extra amount of civility. f
While they were going from shop to 3
n_ shop to make purchases, the children at
a home were having their talk about the n
t0 matter. h
e9 44 How fanny," said %mmy, 44 to see a
;fj father and mother go out to market to- s
[0 gether " d
h " Yes," said Sally, " isn't it ?" a
-j 44 I wonder," said Tommy, 44 whether a
,e anybody has died, and left father some d
,e money." s
t While they were thus engaged in talk- v
iy ing. a sharp rap at the door aroused them, v
il Sally opened the door, There stood a I
jk butcher's boy with a basket and a leg of li
e mutton in it. e
ie 44 Does Mister Lewis live here ?" asked n
fl the boy. c
.J, 44 No," said Sally, 4t there's no one of a
,n that name lives here." \
)e 44 It's strange 1" said the boy, 441 was v
rr told this was the house. Isn't this No. s
fe 20?" 1
ie l4Ye8, this is-No. 20; but no one of s
3e that name lives here." *
44 Who does live here, then?" asked the 4
ill b?7- c
i9 44 My father and.mother, and me," re- e
plied Sally.
A n/3 mhat'a tmirr fothpr'a nnme ?" astrad 1
ie
)?r the boy. e
jn 44 Tliey call him Jack Lewis." g
$y "Well, that's the same man; Mister 9
t0 and Jack's all the same," said the boy. t
Ce ''Come, here's a leg of mutton for him." s
11 44 Oh, I'm sure you're wrong," said 8
ie Sally ; " we never have such things some
ts to our house." r
re 44 But I tell you it's all right," said the *
ts, boy, " for it's paid." 1
44 Well if it's paid for, I'll take it in;
le but I'm sure you'll have to come and
le fetch it back again," replied Sally.
?(] 44 Oh, it'll be all right," said the boy,
re as he went away. t
jg 44 My word!" said Tommy, "isn't it a (
ie whopper?" And the little fellow fairly j
0f danced about the room for jov. While
?(] he was cutting his capers in this manner, (
er another knock was heard at the door. i
[,t 44 Here he comes," said Tommy. "Shall *
I bring the leg of mutton?" ^
al But on opening the door a baker's boy
ig presented himself with three large loaves. .
j: 44 Does Mr. Lewis live here?" asked the
er boy. 1
"Well," replied Sally, thinking it 1
to strange, 44 my father's called Jack Lewis, j
d. it that's him ?"
id "All right 1 here's the loaves for him." ?
ig 44 Are they paid for?' asked Sally. *
er 44 Yes," said the boy. 44 Come, make t
it haste." ,
d, 44 Well, I'll take 'em in, seeing as how
id they are paid for, but we never have such
a big loaves as them come to our house. 1
'n and you'll hav9 to fetch 'em back again? f
?" there's some mistake, I'm sure." (
as 44 There, that's all fudge 1" said the boy, ^
d, and off he went.
44My word! ain't them busters?" said 8
II Tommy; "see, sister, iney re quite new.
Only fancy if they was ours, wouldn't we
)g make a hole in 'em!"
ie Again he started off with a dance and a
shout, in the midst of which another rap
is at the door was heard,
re " Here they are," Tommy said, " I'll
)g bring 'em to the door."
But upon the door being opened, there
was a lad with parcels of tea, sugar, coffee
etc. Again the same question was asked.
'1, But Sally by this time had decided to
take in all that was paid for, telling each
ie <>ne " they mustn't be surprised if they
le had to fetch 'em back again."
>d The green grocer sent potatoes and caber
bages; the butterman, eggs, bacon, and
t buiter; and a few other articles from (litre
ferent shops arrived, until the table was
1(1 toll. 8
n " I do wish father and mother would
I(1 come home," said Sally. "Suppose a
er policeman was to come, what should we
do ?" r
I], " I wonder," asked Tommy, " whether (
id fat her and mother's going to keep a shop ?" t
id " Don't be silly; you would be still il
e. we were sent to prison." =
?d While they were talking in this way t
ir they were rejoiced to hear the voices of 1
ir their father and mother. They were soon a
Id told that the things on the table were for .
r?, the coming week, and that all of them
y. would have a share if they were good. 1
Giving eacli a piece of the loaf, they were i
A sent off to bed, and told to be quiet. T$ut r
ir quietness was out of the question; no
a -ooner were they up stairs than they bent
gan to talk of the morrow's feasting, and ?
Is their tongues made such noise that it awoke \
the other children; and then Tommy was [
i's heard telling them that down stairs there
i>f was such a whopping leg of mutton, and
10 such big loaves, an'' lots of other things. A
113 This soon led them to set up a shout *
which brought the mother to the foot of I
s- the stairs, and she said, u If you children ,
>k don't he quiet, yon shan't have any pudid
ding to-morrow." c
44 Pudden ! pudden !" said the little ones, a
44 what's that ?" And again the voice of a
Tommy was heard telling the others that
If. down stairs there was flour and currants, j
I and that on the morrow mother had
promised to make them such a big plum v
es pudding. Of course, with this additional I
piece of news, was it any wonder that a
ie their eyes were not much troubled with
sleep, and that, long before the proper
time for getting up had arrived, Tommy ;
?n was showing them, by the aid of the a
pillows, how mother would make the I
m pudding? Oh, how they longed for the j
ig time to arrive when they might be able '
to know in reality that tl?e 4' proof of the
Id pudding is in the eating!" i
n, The day at length came, and the whole t
e- of the articles were displayed to the asill
tonished eyes of all tlie children. When
they were all seated around the table, and
t, mother brought out a plate of nice rosy
|y ripe cherries, was it any wonder that the
at children set up a shout of joy, and that r
lg Mary's heart was full of emotion? In- c
>n deed she could not help drawing close to f
;n .John, while the children were making j
it, earrings of the cherries, and putting her
is arms round his neck, she kissed him, v
at while tears of real joy trickled down her 6
cheeks as she softly said, '"John, if you j
Is will continue to buy your own cherries c
?" we may be happy yet."
n- And so it was : for in a short time John
it. found he could buy clothes for his chil- *
d, dren, then for himself and his wife. Then a
it began to be whispered that he was get- y
re ting proud, for he had moved into a better
bouse, where he only had to pay a little
ae more rent. Soon after he begun to put,1
ie his savings in the Building Society, and j <
i thus enable him to build a house for him* 11
elf. The master finding him more than
ver attentive to his work appointed him
s foreman, at an advanced rate of wages,
ohn began to say that " he fonnd it vast- '
y more pleasant to receive ?2 10s a week
r?r looking atter men do the work than
0s for doing it.''
Step by step he rose, nntil he became a
aaster himself; and instead of working,
ie coald afford to pay other men to look
fter it and do it for him. He sent his
on Tommy to a first rate school; and in
ue time he was apprenticed to a doctor,
,nd is now practicing as a physician with
, good connection. The rest of the chilIren
have been well educated. He himelfhas
built a nice row of houses, from
rhich he receives sufficient to keep him
rithout work the remainder of his days.
Jow, in a handsome " Villa," which he
las lately had built, and fitted up with
verything to make it comfortable, he
nay often be seen reclining in an easy
hair, viewing with evident satisfaction
nd pleasure, through the drawing-room
rindow. a cherry tree, which he planted <
pith bis.own hands, and on which he for ]
ome time past has been able to "grow (
lis own cherries." It was a pleasant
igbt when, added to all this, he and his '
vife became hearty supporters of the M
'Grand Alliance" and the Temperanco f
ause; and, by the blessing of Go(^conistent
members ot the Christian church.
Workingmen! the moral is soon told: '
t is not how mnch money a week you i
;arn, but what- you do with it when you \
,ret it! How many home comforts, in the ,
hape of carpets, sofas, clothes, books,
>oots and shoes, etc., are lost by your
pending the money in the wrong way 1
ind at the wrong shop. I
If you learn nothing else by this tale of ,
eal life, you may learn this, that if you
vish to have a " Home, sweet home," you '
nnst " Btty Yottr Own Cherries!" >
1
A Fatal Disease.?The strange and 1
rerv fatal disease known as "Bright's
lisease" appears to be alarmingly on the 1
ncrease in -this country, and in the city 1
>f New York especially. It is only durng
the last three yoars that any accurate
tatistics have been filled respecting this 1
lisease, and these show, dnring that
>eriod, that the ratio of deaths from
Wright's disease as compared with the
otal deaths from all other causes were:
n New York City, 1 to 52; in Rochester,
1 to 73; and in Boston, 1 93. This shows
t far greater proportion of the disease
iere than in the Old World, where the
nortality returns for the same period
^ave: In London, 1 to 142; in Paris, only
[ to 266. Althongh physicians have
litherto been unable to discover any core
or this terrible malady, when once firmly
established, they seem to have at least
)een able to trace it to its direct causes,
ind to have discovered that it is not only
eurable in its earlier stages, but might be
ivoided altogether by proper personal
:are. The causes of it are said to be in
he excessive use of alcoholic drinks, and
n the very sudden climatic changes to
vhich we are more subjected here than
lerliaps in any other quarter of the globe,
tisat least of invaluable usefulness to
)ossess these facts, if it only teaches the
lecessity of temperance in living, and the
jreat care to be observed in being always
varmly clad, and in being at all times
>repared to resist the sudden chills and
:hecks of perspiration to which we are so
>erpetually subjected in this climate, at
ill seasons of the year.
A Dainty Dish.?The most extraordiiary
ot all culinary recipes is the following
liabolical one given by Mizaid.in his 44 How
0 roast and eat a goose alive:" Take a
;nose or a duck, or some such live creaure;
pull off all her feathers?only the
lead and neck must be spared ; then make
1 fire round about her?not too close to
ler?that the fire do not cuuch her; withu
the circle of the fire let there be set
lots of witer, wherein salt and honey are
~t.i~l.n4-] In* kz? o 1 c r\ r> )i n r? r ?> re fill!
IlIIJU, It'll, illJlA IVl VI4CIV l/V mouuuui^viu
if sodden apples cut into small pieces. Tbe
;oosemust be all larded and basted over
virh butter; to make her the more fit to
>e eaten, and roast the better, put the fire
ibout her, but do not make too much haste
vhen you see her begin to roast, (or by
valking about and flying here and there,
>eing cooped in by the fire that stops her
vav out, she w ill drink the water to
[uench her thirst and cool her heart and
ill her body. Tbe apple sauce will purge
md empty her, and when she roasteth
md consumeth inwardly, always wet her
lead and heart with a wet sponge; and
vhen you see her giddy with running and
>egin to tumble, her heart wants moisture,
md she is roasted enough. Take her up
ind set her hefore your guests, and she
vill cry out as you rut off any part of her,
md will be almost eaten before she is dead,
t is mighty pleasant to behold. Mr.
dizaid probably stole this recipe from the
dtchen of his Infernal Majesty. Perhaps
t wa? one of the dishes the devil ordered
?n the advent of Nero and Caligula.
How Valuable is the Result of Labor, j
?A mass of iron ore, wort 111 ess at the mine,
nay be worth a few cents after taking it
>ut, a few dimes after carrying it to the
utnace, a dollar after being made intopigron.and
five dollars after being puddled into
vrought-iron; when worked into horseho
s, it is worth ten dollars; made into
jenknife blades, it is worth three bundled
lollars; made into needles, it is worth
hree thousand dollars; and made into
>alance springs for watches, two hundred
ind fifty thousand dollars. And so it is
vitb everything; all values are the result
>f labor. Even when a town or city lot
aises in value, it is the result of the labor
>f those who improve the neighboring land
by which the owner of the lot ia a gainer. |
The Wrong Hotel.
The Brussels Eche de Parlimenl tells a
feasant story of an Englishman and his
wife, who not knowing a word of German,
)ut being able to express themselves well
n French, resolved to visit Berlin and
Dresden. At Berlin they had been recomnended
to a hotel, whither they were
iding in a hack, when all at once the lady
spied an imposing edifice npon which
were inscribed in large letteis the words
k Hotel Radzievill." She cried ont,
' There is a beautiful hotel, and the situa;ion
is splendid." " Suppose we go there?"
juggested the husband. 44 All right." It
was done as soon as said. The driver
was stopped. There were several ladies
ibout the hotel, bat none of them spoke
fither English or French. However the
lervants were made to understand by
juestures that they were to take in the
uggage, and the travellers were ceremoni)u*ly
condncted into au apartment. The
ady asked by signs for a sleeping room,
to which she was led, and oil her return
said to her husband: " I netfer saw in all
my life a hotel so admirably furnished;
3ome and see the chamber and sleeping
room!" Having dressed, oar English
folks lunched and announced to the serpent
that they wonld dine at five. They
went to walk. On their return a gentleman
of distinguished appearance entered
their room, saluted them and said something
in German which they did not ucJerstand.
The Englishman thinking hrai
a little familiar, replied carelessly in English,
" Good morning. How do you do?1'
And the stranger withdrew. A delicious
dinner was served. When the servant
had gone, " My dear," said the gentleman
to his wife, "all this is excellent. This
is evidently first-class. But it mnst be
very dear, and as a matter of prudence it
will be well to ask for the bill to-morrow
morning." But he neglected to do so,
and two days more passed like the first.
At last the bill was asked for, but it was
not brought. " I am beginning to be a little
uneasy, my dear," said the husband.
" Snrelv no one could be better cared for
than we are here, but I am persuaded the
charges will be frightful." At that moment
the gentleman of distinguished appearance
entered, and the following dialogue
took place:
The Stranger?"I am Prince Radzievill."
The Englishman (rising and bringing a
chair)?"To what may I attribute the
honor of this visit?"
The Prince?"You have evidently
... - it* i . i 1 ?
taken this House tor a puonc noiei.'
The Englishman?"Certainly."
The Prince?" Well, this is my private
house, my hotel."
The Englishman was so astonished that
he could make no reply and could not explain
the mistake of his wife, who, in the
greatest consternation, began to tell the
prince in English that the word "hotel"
over the door had caused her error. The
prince, who saw their confusion, politely
expressed his satisfaction at having given
hospitality to English people, and begged
them to remain a few days longer that he
might enjoy their society. Of course the
invitation was politely declined. The
Englishman succeeded in making the servants
accept a tew presents, and the
prince insisted upon accompanying them
to a real " hotel" in his own carriage.
Prince Radzievill is the Russian Ambassador
at Rerlin.
Borrowing Trouble.?It is uncomfortably
true that there is almost as much
distress ot mind experienced >n the anticipation
as in the realization of trouble.
About half of our unhappy days are occasioned
by our looking forward to the unhappiness
of the other half. "Sufficient
unto the day is the evil thereof." We
need never take another job on credit. In
borrowing trouble, natural laws are reversed;
mere mole-biilsof annoyance b>
come mountains, when viewed at a distance
ahead. Some persons never take actual
comfort. In tranquil times the dread of a
coming change is always in the way of
their enjoyment. 1 know of one family
that was forever expecting to move ; consequently,
neglecting to make a garden,
repair the house, or permanently arrange
the furniture. At the latest advices, this
family had lived in the same hoa?e eleven
years. If we take things as they come, we
shall usually find that they come much
better than we have any right to expect.
Our anticipatory fljgs of distress may have
been inviting compassion and flinging
patches of darkness over many a bright
scene for months, for us to find at last that
we have been guilty ot needlessly, wc
might almost say criminally, robbing ourselves
and others of the happiness right
fully belonging t' us and to ibem. ' Borrowing
trouble'' is sometimes only another
name for selfishness; for the one borrowing
trouble is seldom satisfied unless all within
his or her influence are inveigled into the
loan. It is holding a dangerous serpent
in our hearts, that grows with what it
feeds upon. 11 is smt ul, for it is an abiding
distrust ot God's ?oodness.
Lightning.?Water is so excellent a
conductor of electricity, that, under certain
circumstances, a sheet of water af
fords almost complete protection to whatever
may be below; but this does not
prevent fish from being killed by ligntning,
as Arago has pointed out. In the year
1670, ligtning fell on the Lake of Zirknitz,
and killed all the fish in it, so that the
inhabitants of the neighborhood were enabled
to fill twenty-eight carts with the
dead fish found floating on the surface ol
the lake.
J
Brevities.
A child's hand was found in a sausage
at Council Bluffs. Iowa.
\ German in Iowa has committed
suicide because he was homesick.
There is promise of the largest yield
of corn in Illinois ever known in" that
State.
The practice of paying the minister's
salary in advance in monthly instalments
is gaining favor among the Presbyterians.
The City Council of Rome, Ga., has
passed an ordinance exempting from city
taxation, for ten years, all machinery
propelled by steam or water power.
Reports from some sections of Illinois
state that the heavy rains of the past few
days have somewhat injured the wheat
crop, but the damage is thought to be
trifling in the aggregate.
Three more of the French Communists
convicted by court-martial of participating
in the slaughter of the hostages,,
have been shpt at Satory. The death
sentence oi three others has been commuted
to imprisonment and hard labor
for life. *,
The college regatta at Springfield,^ kMass.,
was one of the most exciting fof- ^
years. The university race was won by
Amherst io the unprecedented time of
16m. 32 4 5s./^Harvard coming in second,
Massachusetts Agricultural third,
Bowdoin fourth, Williams fifth, and
Yale sixth. The freshman race was won
by Weslevan, of Middletown, Conn,
"It has been calculated," says Dr.
Dick, "that from an acre of ground,,
during 12 hours of a summer day, more
than 1,600 gallons of water have been
drawn up into the air in the form of
vapor." "By most careful ex perii
XL.
ments, Dr. Jttauey came to me couciusicn
that every square mile of the farm
evaporates 6,914 tuns of water, in vapor;
per day !'
General Ryan, who has arrived in
Washington from Florida, denies emphatically
the Spanish reports in regard
to the fnlure of theFannie's expedition.
He pronounces the undertaking so far as
the landing of the men aud their safe
conveyance into the interior, e oomplete
success. According to liim, General
Peralto and his command are safe at the
Cuban headquarters.
*
A distinguished journalist announces*
in his columns that he has positively re*
ceived the following request "Sir,?I
should feel much honored by having
your autograph for my album. If you
deem the request unwarranted on my
part, pray pardon me, but, ai the same
time, send the refusal in your own hand*
writing and with your own signature,
so I may know that it is authentic.'
i
) Bounties for Veterans.?All volunteers
who enlisted for three years prior
to July 22, 1861, and were mustered into
the United States service for three years
before August 6, 1861, are entitled to $1U0
i bounty, if they havu been honorably discharged
and have not received the same for
, sucb service. Those enlisted and mustered
as above, who were discharged for promo
, tion, are not entitled to bounty, as such
i discharge is not a muster out of service, as
is contemplated by General Order No. 15,
, 18G1, under which the contract was made.
Where such soldiers have died since dis,
charge, the recent law makes no provision
for bounty to heir?. Such as were dis,
charged by reason of wounds and bclrs of
, such as were killed or died in the service,
, have already had bounty granted uuder
other acts and take nothing under this.
, Soldiers who have received bounty under
the act of July 28, 1866, cannot receive
bounty under this, in consequence of the
restrictions contained in the first-named
act. Where an application for bounty
under the decision of the Supreme Court
has been filed, no new application is necessary
unless called for by this office. On
the 3d of May, 1861, the President, it will
by recollected, issued a proclamation calling
for 42 034 volunteers for three years.
On the 4th of May, 1861, General Orders
No. 15 were issued providing for an organi
zation or tnose volunteers mio ioriy regiments,and
proclaimed a bounty ol $100, in
addition to travel pay to his home,to each
enlisted man when honorably discharged
from the service. The promise was only
made to the volunteers called for in tho
President's proclamation, but as eightytwo
regiments were offered and accepted
before the passage of the act of July 22,
1861, the enlisted men of which were alike
equitably entitled to the bounty, Congresa
passed an act April 22.1872, to place those
enlisting for three years before July 22,
1801, upon the same footing as to bounty.
A Heroine.?Charles Reade, in his new
novel, " A Simpleton," describes the heroine
thus: "Person ? straight, elastic,
and rather tall, mind?nineteen ; ndcom
plishments?numerous; a poor French
scholar, a worse German, a worst English,
an admirable dancer, an inaccurate
musician, a good rider, a bad draughtswoman.
-i baid hairdresser, at the mercy
of her maids; a hot theologian, knowing
nothing; a sorry accountant, no house
keeper, no seamstress, a fair erabroideress,
a capital geographer, and no cook. Collectively,
viz., mind and body, the girl
we kneel to."
An Artist.?A Brooklyn contractor,
claims to be an 44 artist in marble." it is related
of him that be once carved a sleeping
lion in stone and took it to a fair for a
premium. The day for distributing the
, honors arrived,and tbeaitistwaa promptly
on band. Prize after prize was awarded,
and finally 44 statuary" was reached. The
i artist's eyes lit up with the glow of ex1
pectation as be leaned anxiously forward
, to bear these words: 44 James Mack?
f first premium for a beautiful sleeping bull
pup in marble."