Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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T H E H E R-ALD.- -ADVERTISINC RATES. IS3 PUBLISHED c EVERYPWEDNED Numn :dvertisements ten per cent on above. R V K R Y W E D X E D A Y O f l L G ;.N t ic e s o f m e e t in g s , o b i tu a r ie s a n d t i b u e At $6W96li'O0. Es,cet, same rates per square as ordina ry -it N ewbe" Ty c. 32.9etie cns i ec al notices in local colum1 20 cents Editor and Proprietor. - ots ma th e nu - Terms, $2. per .nunm, A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, iscella Ingarably in Advance. r? The grr i! stopped at the expiration of time for w. it is paid.NG J. The M mark denotes expiration of sub- ol. XI. W EDNESDAY MORNING, seription. 4=1 . ___I_ _ I - * iscellaneous. THOMPSON & JONES, Dental r Surgeons, NEWBRY C. H., S. C. (Graduates of the Pennsylvania College of DentaLSurgery.) Mar. 19, '73-11-tf. THE CHRISTIAN INDEX, &TLATA GEORGIA. - 0o GRGAN OF THE BAPTIST DENOMINATION. .- -0 REV. D. SEAVER, D.D.. : : : EDITon. AssoCIATE XDrrORs: RE.D. E.BUTLER. DR. J. S. LAWTON. CORRESPONDING EDITORS. EEv.S.HENDERSON.D.D., - ALPINE, ALA. Exv.E.B.TEAGUE,D.D., - - SELMA,ALA. BEY.IT. G. JONES, D.D., - NASHVILLE, TEN. 0 Steadfastly devoted to the Tenets and great intere-4s of the Baptist Denomination, this paper,-which for nearly half a century. has been the organ and favorite of the Bap. tists of Georgia. and for the past seven years, bearing the same intimate rcelation to the bfttherhbod of Alabama and portions of Tenessee, South Carolina. Florida and Mis ip-will, in the future, merit, by the excellency of its character, their h ighest appreciation. The reader will find that, be sides the large quantity of Moral and Reli gious,Trath with which it is freighted week ly, a ebaste selection of miscellaneous read ing, da complete summary of reliable iniefgonoe-both domestic and foreign will render them independent of other pa pers. Correctly printed Market l:eports of the;principal cities will make the paper in valuable to all classes of our people. As an advertising medium, possessing, as it does, a constituency of over 250,000 intelligent, substantial ChrDstianpeople-it is unequal led by any other pubiaction in the South. THE 1NDEX clubs with all the leading papers andperlodicals in the United States. The interests of friends remitting us will be carefnlly protected. Price in advance, $2 50 a year; to Minis ters, $2 00. .AXa. -IMARIM & CO., Proprieto. To hirom all communications must be ad dressed. .P- Send for specimen copies, circulars, etc%, In connection with THE INDEX we have perhaps the largest and most complete k and Job Printing office in the South known'as - THE RA1Lff STAx PRINTING HOUSE At which every style of Book, Mercantile, Legal and Railway Printing is executed. In exeUency of manner, promptness and CHEAPNESS, we defy competition. Our BLANK BOOK MANUFACTORY is likewise, well appointed. Orders solicited for every g e of work in this department. County OMcials will find it to their interests to cqnult us as to Legal Form Books. Re coM&Muites, Blanks, etc. Books, News. pers, Sheet Music aud Periodicals bound IMUeDound to order. Remember to make your orders on the Franklin Steam Printing House. JANES. P. H A RRISON & CO., Nos. 27and 29 South-Broad street. Feb. Ir, 6-tt, Atlanta, Ga. Wi EVE4AY 'S=ULD-TAKE IT. -M AfTERSONIA AWAZINE -0 The Ghe.pt and Best in the World. -0 POSTAGE PRE-PAID ON ALL SUBSCHUTWO.Ss. -0 This popular Monthly Magazine gives I ftr We money than any in the world. F Twill be greatlV iuproved. It wi 'One Thousand )?ages. Fourteen Splendid-Steel Plates,'Twelve Colored Ber lin Patterns, Twelve Mammoth Colored Fashions. Nine-Hundred Wood.Guts. Twen ty-Four PageslO Music. All .this will be given for only TWO DOLL A RS a year, post age prepaid by the Publisher, or a dollar le Mgaznesof the class of "Peter - ~SAND NOVEdTTS Are the * plxihed anywher6. 'All the mds~t popular writers are employe~d to write originally for "Peterson " In 1875. in addi tion to the usuel quantity of short stories, FIVE ORIGINAL COPYItIGHIT NOVEL ETTE3wl be given, by- Mrs. Ann S. Ste 'Pak Lee.Bene let. Jane G. Austin. -~eUHolley and Daisy Ventnor. MAMMOTH COLORED FASHION PLATES Aheiad of all others. These plates are en graved on steel, TwICE THE UsUAL sIZE, and are unequalled for beauty. They will be superbly .colored. Also, Household and other recixts; lItshort,.-everything inter --- SUPERB PREMIUM ENGRAVING Totery person getting up either of thi foltowing clubs for 1s75 will be sent gratis, :i copy of our new and splendid mnezz'otint foi framing. (size 21 inches by 26). -Washing ton's First Intervie w With Illis Wife." Thil is a FIVE DOLLAR ENGRAVING. and the mosl d premium ever.cffered. For large c w~kill be seen below, an extra copy of the Magazine will be sent in addition. --- TRES(Always in Advance) $2.00 A YEAR POSTAGE PRE-PAID BY THE P'UBLISHIE. CPOsTAGE PRE-PAID 01 -* . the Club, with a copy 0: 2,pheg for $3.0 the sur ezoit( 35 " 4.s0 Interview WiVt h Hit Wife," to the persoin get hing up the Club. ( POSTAGE PEE-PAID o1 6 Copies for $10.00 ithe Club, with both aI |extra copy of the 3laga 9 "' " 14.00)J zine and the,u-nperb miez -. ) tint, "Wash in ton's Firs W ife." to the person get t ing up the Club. Addiess, post-paid, .EESN CHARLES .PTRSN .300 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Pa. gi- Specimiens sent gratis if written for. Oct. 14, 41-tf. Th idg~s' and O ras' FrIendl S80ie0, NEWARK, N. J. -CASH CAPITAL, $25,000.00. Any healthy man, between the ages o? 1 and 65 years, may become a memiber of ti So Mty EMBER5 CONTRtIBUTIONS. Allowance Semi-weekly Sei-during Quarterly. Annual ly. Annually, sickness. $ 150 $ 275 $ 525 $ 40 3 00 5 50 10Si 50 0 6 00 114)00 21 00 160 00O 16050 31 50 21 0 -'0o 22 00 42 00 3s 1 3 50O 27 50 52 50 4041 1l 00 i3 00 63 00 48 0 lioN. JOHN WHITEIHEAD. President. Address, BENJ. G. HE RIOT. Special Agent, Mount Pleasant, near Charleston, S. C. The Piedmont& Arlington Life Insurance Co. Of R10HMOND, VA. Assets January 1st, 1573, - - - $l,7660,94&5 C Dividends to Policy Holders, 1s?2, SO,909 Rcereebeling amount necessa ry toss&isure all Risks,. - - 1,498.156 C BENJ. G. HIERI'JT, Special Agent, Mount Pleasant, near Charleston, S. C. Dec. 10, 49--tf. THE ORPHANS' FRIEND A PAPER FORl THE FAMILY CIRCLE, PUBLISHED EVERY SATURBDA BY THE CAROLINA ORPHAN HOME. One year, in advance,.-.-.-.-.-.-.$2 Six zaonths.inadvance.-- -- -- ---- To all Ministers, One Dollar per Annum. *RATES OF ADvERTIstNG REAS)NABLE. All the profits of this paper are usedi supportlng, destitute orphas. We war every one who reads this to subscribe. Ad'dress, R. C. OLiVER, Sup't Carolina Orphan Home, Wan.!, 3--tI. Spartanburg, S. C. THE KERSHAW GAZETTE ' THE LEADING NEWSPAPER IN KE1 SH AW COINTY, is published every We nesday. at Camden, S. C.. by Frank P. Bear it has a large and influential circulationj one ot the most productive portions of Ce: tral Carolina, guaranteeing greater indue u*nts to advertisers than any other pape in the County. The most liberal rates. advering. AddressWr oms6. tma -mmm 8 0. THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGH TER. PA'MAPHRASED FROM THE GERMAN OF URL AND. I Up spoke the Goldsmith proudly Unto his daughter fair; "Ah! here are per.r; and diimonds And rubies rich and rare; But none with thee, my Helen, In beauty can compare!" - I. In came a knight so gayly, A youth of noble mien; With 'I.would have a garland, The finest e'er was seen; Spare neither cost nor labor; 'Tis for my.brdal-queen." The work is done; and Helen Cried, "Lucky bride is she Who wears this splendid garland, Ah!-would be give to me A simple wreath of roses, How happy I should be!" 1v. "Tis well," the knight made answer, When he this wreath had seen; "Now make a ring with diamonds And of the purest sheen; Spate neither cost nor labor; 'Tis for mry bridal-queen!" V. The work is done; and Helea Cried, "Lucky bride is she Who wears this blazing circlot! Ah! would he give to me One of his golden tresses, How happy I should be!" vi. "Tis well," the knight made answer, Then to the maid he cried, "I fain would have thesejewels On thee, a moment tried; That I may judge the surer If they become my bride." VII. And soon her blushing forehead Was with the garland graced; And then upon her finger The knight, in loving haste, The ring of gold and diamonds In merry triumph placed! VIII. "Ah! Helen-dearest Helen!" The happy lover cried; "For thee they were intended, My darling and my pride! And by the jeweled tokens I take thee for my bride." 'MY WHIS LING NEIGHBOR. -0 We have moved into a new house, situated about the centro in a row of ten, all bound up to gether in hurried mushroom fash jion, and divided from each other by partitions of brick so thin that sound was only a little deadened in passing through. For the first three or four nights I was unable to sleep except in snatches, for so many noises came to my ears, originating, apparently, in my own domicile, that anxiety in regard to the burglars was constantly ex cited. Both on the first and see ond nights I made a journey through the house in the small hours, but found no intruders on my.- premises.. The sounds that disturbed me came from somne of my neighbors, who.kept later vig ils than suited my habits. "There it is again,"~ said I, look ing up from.my'paper, as I sat reading on the. second day after taking possession of my own home. "That fellow isa nuisance." "What fellow?" asked my wife, whose countenance showed sur prise at the remark. She was either unconscious or unaffected by the circumstance that annoyed' my sensitive ears. "Don't you hear it ?" said 1. "Hear what ?" "That everlasting whistle." "Oh !" A smile played over my wife's face, "Does it annoy you ?" "I can't say that I am par ieularly annoyed by it yet ; but I shal! be, if it is to go on inces santly. A man whistles for want of thought, and this very fact will "I'm not so sure of that," re marked my wife, interrupting Dme, "the poet notwithstanding. I would say that he whistles from exuberant feelings. Our neigh bor has a sunny temper, no doubt; what, I am afraid cannot be said of our neighbor on the other side. I've nc ver heard him whistle; but his scolding abilities are good ,and, judging from two days' observa tion, he is not likely to permit them to grlow feeble for want of 0use." 1 did not answer, but went on with my reading, silenced, if not reocld tomy whistling neigh bor. Business matters annoyed me -through the day, and I fel moody 9and depressed as I took my course -hmwrd at nightfall. I was not i. leaving my cares behind me. Be fore shutting my account books, and locking my fire-proof, I had shoulders stooped beneath the bul den. I did not bring sunlight into m, dwelling, as I crossed, with dull deliberate step, its threshold. Th, flying feet that sprung along th hall, and the eager voices that fil ed suddenly the air in sweet tu mult of sound as I entered, wer< quiet and hushed in a little while I did not repel my precious ones for they were very dear to in heart; but the birds do not sini joyously except in the stinshin and my presence had cast a sha dow. The songs of my home-bird, died into fitful chirpings-they Eal quiet among the branches. I saw-v this and understood the reason. I ,ondemned myself; I reasoned %gainst the folly of bringing world ly cares into the home ianctuary. I sndeavored to rise out ofmygloomy tate. But neither philosophy ror a self-compelling effort was of iny avail. I Was sitting with my ha.d artly shading my face from th( ight, still in conflict with myself vben I became conscious of a lift ng of the shadows that were xround mc, and of a freer respira ion. The change was slight, bi still very p)Qrceptible. I was begin 2ing to question as to its cause, 6vhich had been operative through he sense of hearing,thcagh not be, .ore externally perceived in conse Iience of my abstracted state. Ay neighbor was whistling "Be goue, Dull Care !" Now, in my younger days, I bad whistled and sung the air and words of this cheerful old son hundreds of times, and every line was familiar to memory. I listen. ed with pleased interest for t Little while, and then, as my ::hanging state gave power to re volut,ions quick-born of bettei reason, I said in my thought, em phatically, as if remanding an evi pirit. "Begone, dull care !" And tb< fiend left me. Then I spoke cheerfally, and ir tone of interest to quiet littl( May, who had walked around m( three or fbur times, wondering it her little heart, no doubt, whal held hera distance fromher Papa and who was now seated by hei mother, leaning her flaxen head duted all over with glossy curli against her knee. She sprung a my voice and was in my lap at: bound. What a thrill of pleasure the tight of her arms to my heart 0, love, thou art full of blessing From that moment I felt kindel towards my neighbor. He hat done me good-had played befort me as David played before Sau1 exercising the evil spirit of dis content. There was no longer rpellant sphere, arnd soon all m3 little ones wore close around m< and happy as in other times wit] their father. After they were al in bed, I sat alone with my wife the cares that "infest the day made a new assault upon me, anc vigorously strove to regain theil lost empire in my mind. I fell their approaches, and the gradua receding of cheerful thoughts witi every advancing step they mad~ In my struggle to maintain tha: tranquility which so strengthen the soul fur work and duty, arose and walked the floor. M, wife looked up to me with inquir; in her face. Then she let her eye fall upon her needle-work, and a I glanced toward her at ever; turn in my walk I saw an expres sion of tender concern on her lip: She understood that I was niot a ease in my mind, and the knowl edge troubled her. "How wrong in me," I saidi self-rebuke, "thus to let idle brood ing over mere outside thing which such brooding can in n way affect, trouble the peace my home;" and I made a new e: fort to rise again into a sunnic region. But the fiend had mec his clutches again, and I could ne release myself. Now it was th: my David came anew to my r< lief. Suddenly his clear note rang out in the air; "Away wit Melancholy.! I cannot tell which worked th instant revulsion of feeling thr came--the cheerful air, the word of the song which wverc called t remembrance by the air, or tb associations of bygone years th: were revived. But the spell wi potent and complete. I was m' self again. During the evenin the voice of my wife broke 01 several times into snatches< song-a thing quite unusual< late, for life's sober realities he taken the music from her as well from her husband. We were gros ing graver every day. It wi pleasant to hear her flute-like toni again, very pleasant, and my e hearkened lovingly. The eaul of this fitful warbling I recognize aa mas um nnt 4ind wa. They were responsive to ou neighbor. v I did r-ot then remark upon th circumstances. One reason of thi e lay in the fact I had spoken light y of our neighbor's whistling pro 9o - pensity which had struck me a vulgar; and I did not care to ac knowledge myself so largely hi debtor as I really was. We were in our bed-room, anW about retiring for the night, whet loud voices as if in strife, cam< discordantly through the thii part1y-walls, from our neighbor on the other side. fmethinq had gone wrong there, and angr3 passions were in the ascendant. "How very disagreeable !" I re marked. "The man's a brute !" said my wife emphatically. "le does no thing, it seems to me but wrangld in his family. Pity he hadn'l some of the pleasant temper o1 our neighbor on the other side." "That is a more a-reeable sound I must confess," was my answer as the notes of "What fairy-lik Music steals over the Sea," rose sweetly on the air. "Far more agreeable," returned my wife. "Ie plays well on his instru ment," I said, smiling. My ear was following the note, in pleased recognition. W, stood listening until our neighbor pass ed to another air, set to Mrs. He man's beautiful words, "Come t< the Sunset Tree." To a slow soft, tender measure, the note! fell, yet still we heard them witl singular distinctness through th( intervening wall, just a little muf fled, but sweeter for the obstruc tion. "The day is past and gone, The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done." My wife recalled these linei from her memory, repeating then in a subdued, tranquilizing tone The air was still sounding in owi ears, but we no longer recognizec impressions on the external senses It had done its work of recalling the beautiful Evening Hymn o the Switzer, and we repeated tc each other verse after verse "Sweet is the hour of rest. Pleasant the wood's own sigh, And the gleaming of the west, And the turf whereon we lie. When the burden and the heat Of labor's tasks are o'er, And kindly voices greet The loved one at the door." To which I added, "But rest more sweet and still Than ever nigh tfall gave, Orlonging heart shall fill, Inteworld beyond tegrave, Thee sallno empstblow. No scorching noontide heat ; There shall be no twore snow, No weary, wandering feet, From the hills our fathers trod L To the quiet of the skies TTo the Sabbith of our God." All was now still on both sides The harsh discord of our scoldin Ineighbor had ceased, and on wh bistlin g neighbor had warble his good-night melody which, lik a pleasant flower growing nea an unsightly object, and interpos ing a veil of beauty, had remove Iit from our consciousness. It was a long time sin ce I h aafel .so peaceful upon retiring as wheo t my head wvent down upon its pil s low-thanks to my light-heartei I neighbor, at whose wvhistling prc Spensities I was inclined in the be 7. ginning to be annoyed. But fo s him I should have gone to res s with the harsh discord of m 7 scolding neighbor's voice in m; -ears, and been ill at ease with m~ 3. self and the world. On wha t seeming trifles hang our statesc l. mind. A word, a look, a tonec music, a discordant jar, will brin n light or shadow, smiles or tear -On the next morning, whil s dressing mnyself, thought reae o 'forward over the day's anxieties f and care began drawing her sorn .bre curtains around me. r My neighbor was stirring als< n and, like the awakening bird, tune t ful matins, "Day on the Mor ~t tains" rang out cheerfully, follov -. ed by "Dear Summner Morn," wint s ing off with "Begone, Dull Care h and the merry laughter of a hai py child which had sprung int c his atrms, and was being covere Lt with kisses. is The cloud that was gatherir .o on my brow passed away, and e met my wife and children at tI tt breakfast-table with p 1 e a s a n Ls smiles. 7In a fewv days I ceased to notic g the whistling of my neighbor. it continued as usual; but had grow~ yto be such a matter of conrse : yf not to be an -object of thought.. Ld But the effect remained, showirl as itself in a gradual restoration v'. that cheerfulness which care, at as work, and brooding anxiety aboe as worldly things, are so apt to pr ar duce. The "voice of music" whi< se had been almost dumb in my wi td for a long period a as gradual r would break from her throat as she sat sewing, and I would often hear o her singing again from room to s rcom, as in sunnier days of our - spring-time. As for myself, scarce - ly an evening passed, in which I i was not betrayed into beating - time with my foot to "Auld Lang s Sync," "Hail Columbia," or "Com in' through the Rye," in response to my neighbor's cheery whistle. i Our children, also, caught the in fection, and would commence sing. i ing on the instant our neighbor tuned his plipes. Verily he was our benefactor-the harping David to our Saul. "You live at No. 510, 1 think," - said a gentleman whose fiace was familiar. though I was not able to call his name. We were sitting side by side in the cars. I answered in the affirmative. "So I thought," he replied. "I live at 514-second door east." "Mr. Gordon." "Yes, sir, that is my name. Pleasant Louses, but mere shells." Then with a look of disgust on his face, "Doesn't that whistling fellow between us annoy you ter ribly ? I've got so out of all pa tience, that I shall either move or silence him. Whistle, whistle, from morning till night. Pah! I always detest whistling. "It's a sign of no brains. I've written him a note twice, but failed to send either time ; it isn't pleasant to quarrel with a neighbor if you can help it." -It doesn't annoy me at all," I answered. "Indeed, I rather like it.'' - "You do? Well, that's singular? . Just what my wife says." "First-rate for the blue devils, I find. I'm indebted to my whist ling friend for sundry fav>rs in this direction." My new acquaintance looked at me seriously. - "You are not in earnest?" said he, a half-amused smile breaking through the unamiable expression - which his face had assumed. "Altogether in earnest; and I beg of you not to sond that note. So your wife is not annoyed ?" "Not she." "Is she mu,ical ?" I inquired. -'She was; but of late years life hai been rather a serious matter with us, and her singing-birds have died or lost the heart fo.r mu sic." "The history of many other lives," I said. The man sighed faintly. "Has there been any recent change ?" I ventured to inquire. "in what respect ?" he asked. '-Has there been no voice from the singing-birds ?" A new expression came sudden ly into the man's face. . "Why, yes," ho answered, "now that I think of it, there have been r some low fitful warblings. Only I last evening the voice of my wvife e stolo out, as if half afraid, and r trembled a little on the words of 3an old song." I "The air of which our- neighbor was wbistling at the time," said I. t "Right as I live !" was my corn -a panion's exclamation, after- a pause. .slapping his hand on his knee. I jcould hardly help smiling at the . look of wvonder, and amusement, .and conviction, that blended on r his face. t "I would not send that note." said I mean ingly. ~,"No, hang me if I do ! I must study this case. I'm something of t a philosopher, you must know. If our neighbor can waken the ,sing. ~ing-birds in the heart of my wife, ghe may whistie till the crack of doom without hindrance from e me. I'm obliged to you for the d suggestion." A week afterwar-ds I met him L- again. "What about the sin;ring birds ?" I asked, smiling. S "All alive again, thank God !" . he answe-ed, with a hear-tiness of .manner that caused me to look r- narrowly into his face. It wore a i. better expression than when I ob " served it last. y. "Theb you did not send that o~ note?" d "No, sir. WVhy since, I sa~ you i've actually taken to wvhist. g ling and humming old tunes again, I and you can't tell how much better e it makes me feel. And the chil. t dren are becoming as merry anc musical as crickets. Our friend's e whistle sets them all a-going, likE [it the first signal warble of a bird at n day-dawn that awakens the woodi s5 to melody." _We were on our way homeward and parted at my own door. Am I entered, "Home, Sweet Home' was pulsing in tender harmonies don the air. I stood still and listen it ed until tears fell over my cheeks The singing-birds were alive it hthe heart of my wife, also, and said "Thank God.!" as warmly as femy neighbor bad uttered the wordi ly at a little while befr-. MistUianens. FASHION GOSSIP. WMORU'S COSTUMEb-THE LATEST I PARISIAN NOVELTIES. The I a t e s t importation of Worth's costumes are elaborately trimmed, and the materials are t principally silk and cashmere. A j walking suit disposed in dark prime gros grain has the skirt t quite demi-train, with the back t Core cut "Watteau," with arr.i- A ture of bias velvet one shade dark- n er than the silk. The sides are beautified with plaits and tiny 0 ruffles. The front is arranged en t formne of an apron, made very long o and left open on the right side. The appearance is decidedly bi-ar re, and the entire costume is pro fusely orne with jets, fringe and f costly lace. Another exquisite i toilet designed for full dress eve ning wear-the material is heavy 0 Lyons silk of a very pale sulphur hue, combined with gros grain of n an almost invisible pink tint. The skirt cut full court train, which is U beautifully trimmed with point t lace intermixed with knife-plated e rnfiles, and the whole is richly fin- t ished off with clusters of flowers and tiny vines. The corsage cut low, Pompadour sleeves to the el bow, aud trimmed to correspond to the skirt. A carriage-dress, at ranged in moss-tinted velvet, skirt i cut demi-train, and gardished with I a flounce of guipure lace, headed with beaded gimp of a singular leaf pattern. The basque is cut in front to form the appearance I of an apron; this is richly em- t broidered, and every leaf, flower and spray is dotted over with fine cut beads; the effect is bewilder ingly beautiful, and forms one of the most attractive garments in the exposition. Skirts for the promenade wear are about the same length as those worn last summer; they are cut a very little narrower at the bot- t tom. The close-fitting skirts are still in vogue. Knife plaits are quite the rage for all kinds of costumes. Velvet trimming is popular, and jets are everywhere, it is almost impossible to get enough of this glittering garniture on a mode toilet. "Cuirasses" are favorites, and when made of velvet and fashionably trimmed, form a pleas ing and ever-becoming toilet ac eessory. Bonnets and hats are growing, and let us hope that they will ac quire the trick of covering the front of the head, and not confine themselves so exclusively to the crown and back par-t of the head. The useful and natty French felt chapeaux aire quite the rage; of cour-se velvet will be the leading style for winter wear. Long1 plumes are again up for favor. Gros grain ribbons are very much used on hats, and pretty scarfs are] also a noble garniture for made moiselle's chapeaux. D)ark flowers, are favorites ; still, gay foliage of all kinds is used. The wide brim hat, with left side tipped back, and crown of medium height, is a re cherchee headgear for young and middle-aged ladies. Hats with "flaring" fronts and sides indent ed are designed particularly for girls. The nobby hat for a young lady has the shape of a gentleman's chapeau, high crown, medium brim, with garniture quite simple and yet expensive-long ostrich p)lume, pure jet aigrette, and some costly gem to complete the whole, and present to Ladye Faire a '"love of a hat." Bows of subdued colors on the belt, wrists, and even worn on the back of the promenading jacket or polonaise, are considered quite etfective. Veils have considerable freedom. They are worn generally to suit the taste of the wearer ; all de pends upon the shape of the chapeau ; hence, l ar ge, small, short, lon', round and square veils are called fashionable. Perhaps the style of veil most in vogue is the plain net, and worn quite close to the face, and in length just reaching the chin. Afternoon toilets worn upon grand occasions, such as rece ptions, calling, and driving, are very elaborately gotten up, consisting of much Parisian finery, and cost ly display of jewelry. But there is more freedom granted in the mode of evening toilets than is displayed in costumes worn on other occasions, except at wed dings, where costly garments and magnificent jewelry are always apropos. Embonpoint ladies can't wear the ciassyle of corsage. LEARN A TRADE. I never look at my old steel ompobing rale that I do 11ot, bless nyseif that while my strength asts, I am not at the mercy of the vorld. It' my pen is not wanted, cani go back to the type-case, rid be sure to find work for I earned the p r i i t e r s' trade boroughly-newspaper w o r k oh work, book work and press ;ork. I arn glad I have a good rade. It is as a rock upon which he possessor Canl stand firmly. here is health and vigor for buth iind and body in an honest trade. t is the strongest and surest part f the self made man. Go from he academy to the printing office r the artizans' bench, or, if you lease, to the farm-for to be sure, true farming is a trade, and a rand one,at that. Lay thus a sure )-andation, and after that branch ff into whatever profession you lease. You have heard, perhaps, f the clerk that faithfully served tephen Girar! fromu boyhood to ianhood. On the twenty-first riniversarv ot his birthday he went ) to his master and told him his ime was up, and he certainly Xpected importarit promotion inl he merchants' service. But Ste. hen Girard said to him: "Very well. Now go an' laIrn trade." "What trade, sir ?" "Good barrels and butts must be r demand while you live. G> and ,arn the cooper's trade ; and when -ou have made a perfect barrel ring it to me.' The young man went away and earned the trade. and in time rought to his old master a splen lid barrel of his own make. Girard examined it and gave ho maker two thousand dollars or it, and then said to him "NoW sir, I want you inl my onnting room ; but henceforth -ou will not be dependent on the vhim of' Sephen Girard. Let vbat will come you have a good rade always in reserve." The young mian saw the wis lom of it and understood. Yesrs ago when the muiddle-aged len of to-day were boys, Horace -reeley wrote: "It is a great source of consola .ion to us that when t he public shall e tired of us as an editor, we can nake a satisfactory livelihood at etting type, or farming ; so that vhile our strength lasts ten thous Lnd blockheads, taking offence at ome article they' do not under tand, could not drive us to the >oor-house." And so may a man become truly ndependent. PROVERBS. Amos Atkins was very fond of >roverbs. lie read p ro v er b s, vroteplroverbs and spoke proverbs; Lnd, meet him where you would, ie bad always a proverb upon his ips. When he once began to speak there was hardly any stop 2ing him. When I first met Amos I was >n my way to my uncle's. A long ~valk it was; but 1 told him 1 aoped to be there before night. "Ay, ary," said he. "Ilope is a ;ood breakfast, but a bad supper. Put your best foot foremost, boy. >r else you will not be there. It s a good thing to hope but he who locs nothing but hope is in a ver'y ropeless way. "Have a care of your temper ; for a passionate boy rides a pony Lhat runs away with hiru. Passion has done more mischief in the world than all the poisonous plants that is in it. Threrefore, again I say, have a c:re of y-our tem per. "Remember that the first spark burn~s down the house. Quench the first spark of' paLssion, and all will be well. No good comes of wrath; it puts no money in the pock at and no joy in the heart. Anger begins with folly and ends with repen tan ce. "Look to your feet and( your fingers, boy, and let both be kept in activity ; for he who does no thing is in a fair way to do mis chief. An idle lad makes a needy man and I may add, a miserable one, too. "-If you put a hot co:d in your pocket it will burn its way out. Ay, and so will a bad deed that' is hidden make itself known. A fault concealed is a fault doubled; and so you will find it all through life. Never hide your faults, but confess them, anrd seek, through God's help, to overcome them. "Now step forward boy ; and as you walk along, think of the half dozen proverbs giv.en you by Amos Atkins." He who has no charity merits THE REASON Will. Why does boiling faot render meat hard. Because the excessive actioni of the heat causes tihe albumen of the meat to set solid, Crisp up the 1 fleshy fibers, and prevents heat having a gradual access to the ill iv. h,when a good soup or' broth a is required. should the moat be tl put into Cold water? Sc Because as the heat is dev'!op. st e v ry grada:Jy. there ocecls al of in1termixtulre betweeln the Juice of a the flesh a1d external mat ter. The soluble and savory part ot the if meat escapes and enriches the to soup, to Why are stews generally health- ti ful and digestible? a' Because. being compoIrunds of a various Stbstances, t contai hi all the eIements of nutriti-n. and to as the Alice of the stomach is to ti liquify solid 1CO.-d before digesting ar it. the nrevious stewing assis,ts the A stom_*;h in this particular . What causes the cracking nois.e ti Vhen lard is put into a frying pan? ' te Lard always contains some por. If tion of water, and it is the expan-y Sion of that water into steam. w forcing its way throiugh the fat that causes the cracking noise.- ti The heat at which fat or oil boils tt is r.uch greater than water.- of When the cracking ceases the wa- a, ter is gone, and when the fat bub- k bles its heat. is very high. Why should fish or lmeat that is il being fried be frvquently turned? : Because the turr.in- assists the e, evaporation of the water. When the fish or meat is allowed to lie r too long ,team is genera,ed un-r der it.. and the steam is driven off- d the surface catches to the hot pan g and becomes burnt and broken. Wh1:y is broiled meat so juicy and a savory ? h Because action of thu fire hard. ening its surface seals up the pores a through which the juices qnght q escape. A fork should not be used t< for turning it as the tines open a e: way for the escape of thv' juices. e thus wasting the best part of the tl meat. I Why should tile water upon cabbage be changed in cooking? it Because, (according to Dr. Par- d is) cabbage containsan essential a oil which is apt to produce bad of- d f'ects, and he recommends that it [ should be boiled in two successive o waters till it is soft and digestible, a PRAISE THECH'ILDREN. hi Threioaodedhaaras is too gooda thng t be ivento child reni;i that it is too rich for their mentali and moral digestion. Some pa- t4 rents are so afraid that a child will gzrowv proud that they never' praiset him, and this course is often disas trous. it is apt to prdc tooh much self-assertion-for self-asser- I tion is a legitimate outjgrow thi of s w ithhoiding comm tendation fron s one whbo is entitled to it. or it. wil o endanger self-distrnst or' melan 1 choly hopelessness of disposition. t Praise is sunshine to a chiid. and a there is no chiild that does nti b need it. It is the high xewardi of f one's struggle to do rght. Thnomals b] IIughes says that you can never' 0 gret a man's be2st Out of' him withi out praise. You certainly ean 0 never get a child's bcst out of him U without praise. 31Iany a seinsitive C child, we believe, dlies of' hunger for l ack of kin'd reco mme ndat ion. 31anyv a child star'ving~ for the praise a par'ent Should give run off eagerly after tile dlesig'ning flattery of other's. To withhioldd pris where it is dute is dishone-t. - Iand in the case 01 a c:hild suchaa course often leaves a stiniging sense C of' injustice. MIotives of comrn 0 justice as well as a r'egard for the f'utur'e of the child should influe:te the parent to giva generous pr'aise to all who deserve it. Of co'ulrse there is a difference in the consti tu tion of' children; somn cano to Ibear' so muchi praise as others. and some need a great deal, it should I rover be indiscriminate. We re member a wond(er'ful woman who tagtaschliool in one v illagre u n til she hali educated a pairt of c three generationS. She was onet of the most successful of' teachers. but her success lay in her gift of praising with discrimination. Ai bad boy who was a good scholari got praises for his brilliancy sand wiched between her' abomination 1 of his bad behavior, and so was1 won to a better life ; and we reccall a good girl who had no gift fori learning rapidly, but who was1 saved from utter despair by the i praise she got for her un tiring in dustry. into the discouragred heart of the children the praise of the teacher came like sunlight; and the virtues, like fruit. can only rinen in unsine. THE HOTEL CLERK. I can shake hands with a Gov beside an Aldermat. and Ve with a State Senator and :e ,eel my littleness but U lien conie to stand in the nresence ol mo10dertj hotel clerk. I feel tbat awo id infLiority which tourists tee they stand in Yosemite Valley d( look Up Lt the mouintaiun toP)s a ousand feet above. There is mething about that young man mn1in;i behlild th oflce c(uter a first-class hotel which ia caicu ted to h!old the- commnon man at ,tanCQ you llay gaze at hini, you wish to-in IAct he is there be gazed lt-but don't attemp)t be fam111iliar. I would as 1,4oon ink of dinin- with the crater of -oleano as of going uj, extendi;in hand to a hotel c.eirk and a kin:_ ni if his fi;y were enjoying lerable good heal th. I some ies dreai ofb-ing- thu familiar. d when I wake up I fel as if had been frozen. The dig-nity. perity. and coldeseension of the e modern hotel cDrk! Di you er n(otice how he resvnts the at mpted familiarity of travelors? a man calls him -old boy" or ls: "Say vou fellow there !" no ell-bred clerk iets on that he ars. lie goes right on reading e morning pape'. and finally at fnam i.hatr travuller has to put a beseeching look and timidly k : "Please, ImlistCr., will you ndly permit nie to disturb you hie I humbly inquire if the To do train leaves at S o'clock or at 40 he lerk will raise his -es f-om his paper. drop them, is them to the clock, gently ove them rounrid tle room. arid ply: -1 guess SO." With What grityi they receive and assign? s ! 'If the traveler asks f'or a )Ullm on the first floor, on account his legs. the clerk lays back on is dignity and assigns him to the p story as punishment, and if I the earthquakes that eve: laked atteumted to alter his de rminntion, they would get beat . I used to believe that hotel erk; were like hotel waiters, iat a bribe would fetch 'em, but found out my error when trying pass a crumpled ten cent note to the young man's hand, lie trew back with such a look of scorn ad contempt on his face that I idn't dere to register at ali, but slept in a barn and breadfasted a eheese and crackers. I heard terward that he was kiiled'by a Liiroadi collision, but I don't see ow any such thing could have een disturbed his dignity. (Mfaxi Adder. T HE SeHooL BoY-Tihe Burling >n Hlawkeye writes of' the decep ye lit tle boy :"Passing by one of' ie city schools yesterday, we li-s ied to the scholars singing, 'Oh ow I love my teacher dear'.' here was one boy, with a voice ke a tornado, who was so enthu astie that hc emphasised1 every ther' word, and roard, -Oh, hoac I ece my teacher de'ar,' with a vim 'iat left no p)ossible doubt of his flection, Ten muinuites after that nv had been stood on the floor >r puttinig shoemaker's wax ont is teacher's chair, got three (de ierit marks f'or drawing a picture liher with redl ebalkI on the back i' an atlas. been well shaken for utting a bent pin in another boy's hair', se>ldedl for whi.'tling out >Ud, sentenced to stay in after chool fo dr'awing ink mustaches n his face and blacking the end f' another' boy's niose, and soundly hipped for .Wapin g threeC hun red and t hirty-nine sp;t balls up gainst the ceilin" and throwing ne hig" one in to at girls ear. You an't b,eh eve hialt a boy say's whlen VA[.t' (, F EN.\'TllAM.-IO all inieoi:ceivably be'au tif'ul thing, o soon a~ we r'each that point w'hence we can look out upon it, brough a clear conlscice and a haracter' well buffeted by experi. nec. The one diffuses a pure *eavenly light over al the stranige uid complex mnass w hich meets he eye. the other tones down our nthuusiasm without destroying he vigor. Enthusiasm is to char' seter what blood is to the p)hysical ife-without it lanitude. 'and' inally death. would enisue. Upon ts quai'y, however, depends thue cauty of' deformuity of the 'ife it uourishes. Ideality is at the hoCt oml of' the true enthusiasm: the trivinig after perfectioni makes he gr'eat artist, the n oblej>hilian flropist. the selfsacriflicing. TUhe decalist soon discovers how easy t is to apipear civil, courtcous, re pectable, virtuous; how difficult .o be truly benevolent. tolerant, andl cbaritable :but is never satis Sed unless earnestly engaged ia