The Newberry herald. (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, February 24, 1875, Image 1
;Lr
A Family Companion, Devoted to ]Literature, Miscellany, N-e'Ws- gi,IjMres c
Vol. X10 WEDNESDAY MORNING, FEBRUAR """24,I~5o8
THE H ERA LDI
13 PUBLISHZDJ
EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING,
At 'Newberry C. H.,o
GPOGRKIKRt
Editor and Proprietor.
Terms., s2z~o per .ismum,
Invariably in AdvanCe.
Go;-The jpaper is stopped at the CZPifatiOn Of
time for which if is paid
67- The X. mark denotes expiration Of sub
scriptioua.
NEIGHBORS.
13 ZY. B. REXFORD.
Who's that a comin' up the path?
Run, Betsy Jane anY see !
rU bet it's batefal old Wiss Jones
A comin' here to tea.
Miss Perkins is.it? Deary me!
r'd rather hear it thunder!
Shie's allus4round a td"lii!.
what brought her here, I wonder?r
I bqw-PSl Only Come to cMl,
Don't ask her, dear, to sMy;
For of we wrged her hard euobgh
She'd never go away.C
Of all the tattln' set I know,
miss Fedid" beaW 'em holler; 1
SWt' coWlnThere to spy around,P
I'll bed a silver dollar!
ftes* that old s9lk bunult on
WS older tium the hills,
Aaalbloks rlicalons d
&if.uffles, tucks and frills!d
;ooedvraous me! she's got her WO*k; e
I e'pose you knew -jill Smih had giye j
Hger d&rter Ann the mitten?
01
~tyou?
IoasIsdto Betsy Jane, 0
Th osenems awfal dumb. t]
Xtake th rokn-hw
take hrbuat.
An' dust won't git Upon it. bi
&FWUWal au hou ago,
Sma I to Betsy Jane.
t
IOW TIIKIN9 GOT HIS WIFM
-0- a
Timkins was, some years since,
sort of sub reporter on a morn
Ig paper-that is, he was employ- b
d to do odd jobs in connection 3
vith the office; and in case of
mergency, to assist the regular
eporters. f<
He was quite a dabbler in small m
iterature-wrote poetry, or at ,
east, something that no one else I
ould possibly designate witi that a
ame. He seized upon every n
rominent subject of the day and V
ut.it into rhyme. The De Riviere t(
nd Blount affair would have ex
ited his muse to an inordinate!
egree, and resulted in such a po.
m as Byron's "Don Juan ;" and P
be Atlantic cable, that fertile sub- I
act would have been done up in
des aud stanzas and sonnetsa
rithout end. It was unfortunate,
r probably tortunate for Timkins,
at his poetry had never been
ublished, or his delusion with a]
3gard to its merits might have
ecome a confirmed monomania,
ad unfitted him for any useful
arpose in life; although he was a
[ways more ornamental than use- P
re
To give Timkins his due, he had
wl
ither a distingue appearance, and
anaged to make the most of the
atural advantages he possessed.
[e always dressed in good taste,
ever wore a "shocking bad hat," or: k
oots,with indications of incipient
ecay. How he managed to do this
ras a subject of no little surprise to
ose who knew the extent of his P1
at
ieans; but although these were a
rceedingly limited, his resources .u
ere almost unbounded, for he
as biessed with a good stock of
ssurance, and not being troubled
iuch with conscientious scruples ti
-invaluable capital for a hanger
n of the press!-it is probable bi
bat tailors and hatters and boot
iakers were occasionally victim- ss
:ed, under the idea that in sup
lying his wants they were so- g
uring the influence of the news- l
apers, and would receive a quid ti
ro quo in "first-rate notices." I hi
on't know that this was the case; a
ut inasmuch as such things have i
ecurred, anid doubtless are occur
~ng at the present day, I think I
in justified in adopting that fe
eory. p
The only drawback to the per
nal appearance of Timkins, was
e fiery color of' his hair. It was 01
ot decidedly carrotty, but was
ymething between carrots and ~
right yellow ocher; and as he tl
rould insist upon cultivating whis- a1
ers and a moustache, his face did p
ot present, to my eyes, a very at- m
active or pleasing appearance, a
thatever effect it might have n
pon the female portion of the o
mmunity. .g
Timkins, very naturally, was
ot a little vain of his appearance;
d indeed his great weakness, al
'ter that of perpetrating poetry, p
ras in cherishing the idea that he si
ras a decided "lady-killer." IIee
sed a tell the most extraordinary y
tor es of his conquests-of the F
ariLAs modes which love-sick h
iaidens would adopt to make his b
quaintance; and he would occa- a1
ionally show billet-doux,or at least
very neatly folded note, highly
erfumed, which he professed ton
ave received from the fair crea- r
ures he had conquered. b
It was strongly suspected that ~
auch of this was mere boast, sod
ne day it was decided to play a y
>ractical joke upon Trimfkms, and g,
rave a little fun at his expense.
['at it could easily be accomn
lished by attacking his weak
>oint, we felt satisfied, and went d
o work accordingly. r
It was resolved to send him at
tote as though it camne from a
roung lady-a real love-letter, ,
seing with romantic passion, :a
nd concluding by asking an as- 5
ignation at a certain spot, at a
~pecified time. The letter was s
~peedily concocted, and one of us
indertook to get a female friend to
~opy it. It ran thus:
CINCINNATI, May, 18-.
"Sta: The fluttering of my1
seart renders me almost incapable
>f penning this; and, togetherS
vith my deep sense of the impro. C
riety I am committing, tempts me v
o stop even now. And yet some 3
ecret influence impels me onward, ~
ad whispers to me that you are
rny destiny. We have often met ;
but you never detected my ardent
look of love, and 1 felt sure that t
i our eyes had met you would at
>nce have read the treasured secreta
of my heart. Oh ! whby is silence in
matters of the affection imposed I
pon our sex ? Why is it imn- 'J
proper for us to tell a man that we e
love him? Ma says it is because
earwekadmnaewce;C
buty are ak so-I menow wiked;
b ure ofityou are ho- knou it, I
bomosuren ofit.*You re th saol ofer 1
ained to break through conven.
ional trammels, and to let you
:now how dear you are to me.
)on't condemn me; don't think
ae bold and unwomanily, or if you
hould condemn, try to find some
alliation for the act-look in
our glass and find it there. Oh
you can return my fervent love,
ow happy, how blessed I shall be!
.on will do so, won't you?
Your own,
MARIA.
"P. S.: Oh, dear! I had almost
>rgotten to do the very thing for
rhich I send this. Won't you
icet me on Thursday evening, at
)Von o'clock, in Union Square? I
bail be dressed in a white frock,
white po lerine, and a straw bon
et trimmed with green ribbon.
Then I see you, I will cross over
the pijngler Institute, and turn
3wn Fourteenth street. Be sure
id come. ."
This was dispatched by the city
>st, and the conspirators took
tre to be with Timkins when it
Trived. We saw him read it, and
he put it into his pocket, a self.
6tisfied smile assured us that he
ould be at the trysting-place.
The next evening was the one
)pointed, and we were in Union
juare watching the denouement.
imkins was there exactly at the
yur, most elaborately toileted,
id stationed himself nearly op
)site the Institute, attentively
igarding every female, and eager
- watching for the white dress,
ite polerine, and straw bonnet
ith green ribbons.
But minute after minute passed;
quarter of an hour; half an hour
apsed,and still she came not! Tim
ins became fidgety; took the note
om his pocket and read it again
as sure that he was right-re
aced it, and again watched. But
, the end of the hour he gave it
, and stopping an omnibus,
mped in and proceeded down
wn.
The next day appeared among
ie "Personal"' advertisements in
e Herald the following:
"MARIA: I was there at seven,
t waited in vain. Will be at
e same place Saiturday, at the
me hour."
We had no other intention at
ec outset than to have a good
ugh at Timkins, by exposing
ec trick that wve had played on
in; but since it had gone so far',
id he appeared to be so much
earnest, we determined to re
ain silent and watch the affair.
ewere little prepared, however,
r the result that really did take
ace.
We were on the watch again on
aurday e ve n in g, and sure
ough, Timkins was there scan
ng every female closely who
ore a white dress, but none took
e direction intimated. But,
out half-past seven a lady ap
oached, and, to our astonish
eat, actu.ally wore a white dress,
white pelerine, and a straw bon
et, but a black veil was thrown
ver it, and we could not distin
Lsh the color of the ribbon with
hich it was trimmed.
This was certainly very remark
le, a strange coincidence; but
Age of our astonishment when
ie !eft the park and actually
-ossed to the Spingler Institute I
re began to think t.hat, like
rankenstien, we had created a
aman being, and not only so,. but
d dressed her in our imaginary
~tire !
What could it mean ! We look
I at each other in blank amaze
ent, and before we had partially
ecovered from our astonishment,
oth the lady and Timkins had dis
ppeared. Had she really turned
own Fourteenth street,and had he
ilo wed her, as of course he would
el perfectly justified in doing ?
We hurried to the corner, and
was really so ! Timkins was
lose behind the lady, but had evi.
ently not yet addressed her, and,
o doubt, wondered that under
he circumnstances, she gave hinm
o encourageni ent. She, howvever
till proceeded down Fourteenth
nd they had reached a fence thaI
closed some unoccupied lots
vhen he sidled up to her and
oke, but was evidently repulsed
lut, nothing daunted, he persist
d in his attentions, and, in a short
ie, the conversation became
utual, and they walked on, ap
arently in pleasant companion
hip. She dismissed him at the
orner of Main Street, and they
rent away in opposite directions
Ve followed the lady, however
nd saw her enter a very elegani
ansion.
We kept our own counsel aftei
is, but still watched the move
aents of Timkins, and soon became
atisfied that he and the aforesaid
Diale were on the best of terms
.'hat they met clandestinely was
videut, and the meetings were
ontinued for about three months.
One night Timkins invited me
ery confidentially to sup witi
am at ~'Ior,nc@'z, Btatin$ thot ~
had something very important to
impart. He then gave me the
whole history of the affair-how
he had received the note, and met,
as be supposed the writer; how,
after showing it to her, the ac
quaintanco was easily formed;
that they became warmly attach
ed to each other, but that the dif
forent stations in which they
moved forbade the hope of her
family consenting to the marriage,
and they determined not to ask
it. She had a moderate fortune
in her own control, and the wed
ding was to take place the follow
ing week, and he requested me to,
act as his friend. I consented; the
knot was tied; and they started
on their bridal tour, leaving a let
ter for the old folks which I was
to deliver some time after their
departure.
1 found the parents to be good,
kind-hearted, reasonable persons ;
and, as there was really nothing
against the character of TimkinE.,
except the supposed fact of his
practising, occasionally, upon the
credulity of storekeepers, the mat
ter was soon settled, and he step
ped into a very comfortable ar
rangement.
Timkins is now a gentleman of
means, moves in the very best so
ciety, and may be seen every sum
mer, with his charming family,
either at Saratoga, Newport, or
some other resort of fashionable
peopl,e.
le has not forgotten however,
the practical jokers, who, uninten.
tionally, were the cause of his
good fortune, and they are always
sure of a hearty welcome and a
knife and fork at his hospitable
mansion.
~isdUanonsz.
MIGNON'S BABY.
What a pretty picture! Never
did Mignon look so charming in her
girlish days. Yes, she was a rose
bud then, if you please, with all
the sweet wonder of her life fold
ed away within soft, fragrant pet
als. There was piquant expecta
tion ; there were flushes and hints;
and nobody knew what lay at the
depths of the soul, still nestling
asleep in the calyx of home. The
unknown has a marvellous charm;
but for all that I prefer roses to
buds.
A white hand flashes to and fro;
a shining point of steel pierces
some delicate fabric; a little gar
ment of fairy dimensions is grow
ing into form for Mignon's baby.
Without a doubt she is making
baby-clothes. Of all the multitu
dinous employment for women,
none is so fascinating as this. The
work-basket is full of soft, cling
ing flannel, and skeins of flossy
silk ; oZ linen so fine that it might
be woven of cobwebs, and lace
delicate as the dewy films that
link the grass-blades of a sum'mer
morning. It is all one perfectly
blended p6em-the place, the work,
the woman. For once, material is
spiritualized, and earth is heaven.
Do people ever think that heaven
is only the dominance of spirit, and
that spirit is scarcely more than
another name for love ? Lovers
and mothers can understand this.
Mignon, sitting there by the low,
French window, broidering a tiny
petticoat for her unseen baby, sees
heaven a second time. Love is
still the medium, and. it always
will be whenever the terrestrial
and the celestial meet.
Many mothers sit thus, work
ing and dreaming, but not many
keep in their eyes and upon their
foreheads the light by which they
make the first baby-clothes. The
medium becomes obscured, and al
ways in the same way-by the
shadow of the lower self. "The
baby is mine." This is the mo
ther's natural thought. When
the nurse puts the tiny body in
her arms, she clasps it tightly to
her heart. and the instinctive feel
ing deepens. "Mine," from the
absurd little bald head to the won
derful bits of feet, softer and
daintier than rose-tinted satin.
"Mine to love, to dress, to feed, to
pet-mine to educate and develop."
Already an ideal springs up in the
mother's mind to which the new
soul shall conform. Already the
mother says in feeling, rather
than in thought: "The baby shall
grow to be what I wish, for it is
mine."
Yes, dear young mother, it is
yours by the beautiful body that
is flesh of your flesh, by the spirit
traits inherited direct from you;
yours by a thousand ties; and yet
you must not forget that every
soul has a claim to - itself that is
stronger and higher than all other
claims. Baby is yours, but not
you. Therefore let prayers min
10 wi~li your k~58@2, ~ you
may guide and win, without such
persistent control as shall bend
the new intelligence away from
its own type. There is no surer
way of losing your child than by
trying to make him too much
yours. There is a tyranny of love,
and the child-nature tries to get
away from it, just as we move into
the shade at~noon, from the very
sun whose warmth we sought so
eagerly in the chill morning.
But Mignon smiles at future
mother-troubles, and kisses her
child rapturously. Itisstillin long
clothes, and is dependent upon
her, every honi, for its life. There
they sit, rose cheek against rose
breast, red rose and white-the
most beautiful sight in the world.
rhere is no space for selfish con
lict, for each self utterly satisfies
he other.
Bat this can not last long. The
,ime comes when baby wants to
ireep out of his mother's arms
-ae individual force wiLhia him
)egins to -make itself felt. He
wants more room, and the pretty
)mbroidered dresses must be cut
short, to gve the litti' kicking
egs fair play. Intelligence is
waking up, and baby begins his
voyages of discovery.
"You will never take so much
somfort with him again," say the
)xperienced matrons. They have
iad their stiggles with the spirit
)f independence, .and have been
worsted. Mignon is inclined to
)elieve them, when baby pulls her
)est china off the tea-table, and
ihe finds him playing with the
'uins, like an explorer in a buried
ity. For the first time she is an
,ry with her child. Mother-rights
tnd baby-rights conflict, and baby,
is the weaker party, gets treated
!ather roughly. "What have I
lone ?" is the question put by the
wondering blue eyes and the lit
ile grieved lip. Mignon forgets
ier loss, and weeps with her dar
ing, because she has been unkind
to him.
How hard for the young mother,
erself only a child, to measure
the great distance between her
soul and the baby's. The little
sitting-room is to him a world.
The chairs pique his curiosity ; the
tables call upon him to investigate;
bis mother's work-basket is equal
to the treasures of a historical so
>iety ; if he puts the needles in
bis mouth he is not to blame;
so far, that is the natural re
septacle, and baby can only go
with his experience. Everything
must be learned by slow degrees ;
Ion't blame the little fellow if he
rmakes many odd mistakes.
Mischief is only enterprise in
the bud, and there is cause for re
joicing when kitty is fed with the
canary and a carving-knife is in
troduced between the piano-keys
to find the music. If the mother
can only get through this try
ing period, and not be very un
just she has reason to be glad.
Little soft, honest heasrt are
so easily alienated I Babies don't
like to be scolded when they
are not to blame, any better than
grown people; and they remem
ber mamma's cross face much lon
ger than she supposes they do. If
Mignon wants to keep baby, all
his fresh opening soul for her
very own, she must give up a
great deal of herself. She must be
a servant to the little prince--a
courageous, patient, wise guide
giving him all the freedom, all the
warm love he needs, yet restrain
ing him always when his bold
feet stray toward danger.
The pretty frocks give way to
the first pants, and Mignon's baby
thinks himself a man. He stamps
about in boots, and his mother
sometimes kisses in secret a little
worn red shoe that she has saved.
Babyhood is forever over; and
happy is it for the mother if the
brave, joyous boy still cares for
her most and first--is still fed at
the fountain of her soul, as once
he nursed at the white fountain of
her breast.
[From the Aldine for February.
The ancient Britons used money
made of brass, tin, and gold, and
also rings of iron adjusted to a
certain weight, and, as some say,
iron plates reduced t o exact
weights. The money first was
used in Italy and Sicily was of
bronze. CamdenL relates that he
had seen money made by the Hol
landers of pasteboard, A. D. 1574.
Festus says that in the reign of
Romulus the Romnans had not es
tablished coined money as a me
dium of exchange, but used leath
er, painted wood, and pieces of
metal, the values of which were
determined by weight.
Thr *sol on becint
Therpe ishonl onea obectiond toa
peopl he never wel,ind t at
is, thy- mnevrnind iet ar
out thoir me~iain~.
THE MAXIMS OF THE TAL
MUD.
Between the wolf and the shep
herd the lamb has come to grief.
One thing acquired with pain is
better than a hundred with ease.
Let the grapes pray for the wel
fare of the branches; without
branches there would be no grapes.
Silence is beautiful in a wise man;
but how much more in a fool.
More than the calf wishes to
drink, the cow wishes to give it
suck.
If they tell you that your friend
is dead, believe it; that he has
come into a fortune, doubt it.
An ass feels chilly in July.
He who lends money to the
poor is often better than he who
gives them alms.
Here is a table, and meat, and
knives; but we have no mouths to
Bat.
Be prudent and be silent.
The world is like the wheel of
the well, .with its two buckets;
he full one is ever emptied, and
he empty one is ever filled.
A quarrel -is like a squirt of wa
er issuing from a cleft; wider
wd wider gets the cleft, more and
more powerful the squirt. .
Here is the sack, the corn and
he money; now you go and meas
are.
He who has been legally depriv
ad of his illgotten garment should
go his way rejoicing.
He who has learnt and does not
teach is like a myrtle in the des.
art.
There is a threefold death in
bhe slanderer's tongue ; it kills
him who slanders, him who is
slandered, and him who receives
the slander.
Some people's judgment is that
)f a blind man at a window.
You cannot touch a fbl; a dead
man's body does not feel the knife.
For a man who has been ruined
by a woman, there is no law and no
judge.
Many an arrowsmith is shot by
hisloWn ~arrw.
Greater is he who causes good
leeds than he who does them.
Great is peace ; it is to the land
what leaven is to the dough.
He who struts about the market
[n the philosopher's toga will not
come into the dwelling place of
God.
Where song (joy of life) is dead,
a hundred geese may be had for a
brass farthing and a hundred bush.
els of wheat for the asking; but no
one asks.
Woman spins her little web
while she talks.
Throw no stones into the well
whence you have drunk.
A small allowance at home is
much better than a large one
abroad.
He is a bookcase not a scholar.
Cut off his head but mind you
don't kill him.
It is the hole that makes the
Lhief.
When the camel kicks the scor
pion away with its heel, the scor
pion swears that the camel shall
perceive it in its head.
In his own house the weaver is
king.
The:salt of money is almsgiv
ing.
A hundred shillings invested in
trade will give a man meat and
wine ; in acres it will give him
cabbage and salt.
To move from one house into
another costs a garment; fromn
one country into another, a life.
When the axe already touches
the neck, still hope in God's saving
grace.
Flight is the beginning of de
feat.
Hang the sweetest grass around
a pig's neck, it will still go and
wallow in its native mire.
The lives of three are no lives:
that of the too compasionate, of
the man with a temper, and the
misanthrope.
Three men are beloved by God:
he who is of a sweet temper, he
who is moderate in his habits,
and he who does not always obsti
nately adhere to his first re
solves.
Poor is only he who likes com
mon sense.
If the old people tell you to pull
down, and the young ones to build
up, pull down.
You must not drink out of one
cup and look at another.
He who cannot moderate his
grief will soon have a new grief to
mourn over.
Seven years ]asted the famine,
but no workmaen starved.
When the jackal has his day,
make him a bow.
In a recent Corry foot-race be
tween two girls, the one with a
blue garter beat.
In perfect sleep the whole of the
~0rvQgG &r~3~uro i iz~vo~vo44
BL ACKING A STOVE.
It is very rarely, indeed, that a
ian leaves wife in bed asleep and
lips softly into the kitchen to sur
rise her by.putting a polish on
de cook stove. When he does do
,it is an event of some importance
i the family history, and the way
e does it affords material for edi
ring reflection for days at a time.
[e first moistens the blacking by
ling the saucer to the brim with
,ater. Some of this he spills on
is pants, but generally manages
> get the greater part of it on
ie carpet. Then he grasps the
rush firmly in his right hand and
tting the saucer on the floor
here it is handy to step in, he
oes to work, and ftir the next fif
ien minutes a most astonishing
)mplication of noises proceeds
om that kitchen. There is tho
hisk of the brush as it glides
ver the smooth places, and then
sharp rap as it comes in contact
ith an unexpected angle. There
a sort of hissing noise made by
imself, and which indicates that
io stove is occupying his entire
Aention. And that is occasio.
ly relieved by sundry exclama
ons which may or may not have
ference to the work in hand
ich as "Ouch !" 'C-h-r-i-s-t-o
h-e-r!' "Merciful heaven '
rhunder and lightning!" and the
ke. The final noise is the snap of
)mething like crockery, which is
ightly mixed with a proper pro
rtion of Pure English, and about
iis time the sharer of his joys
nd sorrows makes her appearance
i the picturesque attire a woman
[ways assumes at that hour
Drsets and hoop-skirts predomi
ating-and the spectacle her
yes fell upon is astonishing to
be farthest extreme. The stove
ppears in a half-dress uniform of
lacking and ashes, and s4ems to be
ikinga lively interest in the whole
ffair, while the man of the house,
pparently rivited to the spot,
atids there in his shirt leeves,
taring with all his might at a
pot in the carpet, and vainly en
eavoring to comprehend how it
1I happened, while patches of
greeable lustre illuminate his face
nd shirt-front, and stove blacking
nd raw spots equally divide pos
ession of his bands. He has skin
ed every knuckle on both hands,
nd broken the saucer by step
ing into it, and got the ashes in
o the carpet, and snapped the
andle from the brush. She takes
all in at a glance, and with true
romanly sympathy, says, "Well,
hope you are satisfied now."
nd the expression of his face at
ests more eloquently than words
hat he is.-.Danbury News.
-DON'T TAKE HIs OWN MEDICINE.
-The following is told ot Dr.
abarrus, the. great homeopathie
hysician, who has just died in
aris. Mlle. Julia Barron was out
f sorts, and sent for him.
"What is is the matter ?" said
e doctor.
"Oh, I hardly know myself,"
he replied, "my.spirits are terri
ly unequal. Sometimes I am
reatly elated, and then suddenly
nk into deepest melancholy."
After a moments reflection Ca
arras said, gravely :
"I am afraid there is but one
'ay to cure you,"
"What is it ?" she inquired, ea
erly.
"You must get married," he re
iied with a mirthful twinkle of
he eye, still keeping a grave face.
"Well," said MIle. Barron, after
little hesitation, followed by a
ong-drawn sigh of relief~, "perhaps
e are right. Would foa marry
ne ?"
"Ma chzere," replied Cabarrus,
landly, "the doctor prescribes,
ut he doesn't take his own medi
sine."
DOING Foua THINGS AT ONC.
Billy Barker, a Sacramento sports
an, found almost constant pas
~ime in hunting and smoking.
rhese two diversions seemed to
be compatible, and, with a pipe in,
ais mouth and a gun on his shoul
er, he wore out many pairs of
boots tramping t h r o u g h the
woods. Seeing a bird on a high
branch, with its moving wings de
riting an immediate intention of
lying away, he hastily took aim.
Phe tobacco smoke obscured his
sight, and he stuck the pipe in his
yocket where his powder flask was.
Pour things went off in the or
er mentioned- the gun, the flask,
Kr. Barker's leg, and the bird.
A moustache dyed black looks
neongruouls on a sandy haired
an.
In asacustt iti eglt
hoo Mahonetho trs land feth
htay one h asadfah
me you.
PLANTING HUMAN HAIR. .
On Rampart street stands an un
pretentious store whence hangs a n
plain sign bearing the inscription. s1
"Human hair repaired." Hair re- p
3torers have grown frequent of t
late years, invented and patented it
all manner of drugs and medicines it
that promise to make hair grow h
3n the baldest head-even on a fj
pumpkin. Yet with all these capil- I
iary improvements, one looks fi
lown from his seat in the peanut v
gallery on a sea of bald heads- h
ihining pates. t<
How modest this sign appears. tl
'here is no boast ofrestoring hair b:
which is gone ; but the hairdress- s(
)r simply offers to repair one's w
air, as a carpenter would repair g
>ne's leg or a doctor one's head. t(
This repairing is an old art of ci
7reat success, but seldom prac- fr
Aised in this country. Hair being a
% vegetable can be planted any- o
where, and if the soil be fruitful a
will grow luxuriantly. Thus if m
>ne can get a bushy headed boy to ie
ihare his locks, one can bid defi- h
ince to old age and baldness. tl
This art is used in Paris by old a
French dies. Our people, however, a
have not generally received it, for ti
,he reason that the operation of r
grafting hair is rather painful, it si
being necessary to sew the new p
airs into the head with needles. "
The artists in this hair planting li
business can produce the most as- s<
Wonishing results. To give a person sl
any colored hair is, of course, easy p
enough, brunettes may have red, t
Dr blondes black hair; old persons a
black, and yo-ung.grayhair; that it
is the simplest work a
A person may in like manner c
have his head terraced, laid out in n
patches of various colored hairs, e
red, white, black, and brown, and ti
in almost any sort of -pattern or a
lesign. This style always pro- b
fuces a profound sensation, giv- t:
ing its owner. the appearance of a
an animated. amp mat. a
if-human- heirbe mt-fbunfdthe a
Professor will supply horse hair, s
which will be found quite useful and s
able to stand a good deal of wear d
and tear, in addition to the fact that a
it never requires comnbing or brush- a
ng. Altogether, we must regard a
he introduction of this art here a
as highly beneficial. It will give s
ar colored fellow citizens here an a
apportunity of getting rid of one a
heir bug-bears-wool-and thus p
at them for the duties of American ti
itizens, and it may introduce new b
ashions in the hair line. Certain- il
ly it is preferable to chignons andv
ramie.
The hospitality of the home is
never loudly and noisily demon
strative. It never overwhelms
you with its greeting, though you
have not a doubt of its perfect sia
erity. You are not disturbed by
the creaking of the domestic ma
hinery, suddenly driven at un
wonted speed for your accommo
dation. Quietly it does its work,C
that it mi'y put you in peaceable
possession of its results. He is
not the true host, she is not the
s
best hostess, who is ever going
to and fro with hurried action,and
flrried manner, and heated coun
tenance, as if to say, "See how ~
hospitable I can be ;" but rather
the one who -takes your coming
with quiet dignity and noiseless
painstaking ; who never obtrudes
attention, yet is very attentive
all the while; who makes you in
one word-the most expressive
word in the English tongue-to
be at home. There is no richer,
deeper, larger hospitality than
that.
HoME CHEERFULNEsS.-Hany a
child goes astray, not because there1
is a want of prayer or virtue at
home, but simply because home
lacks sunshine. A child needs
smiles as much as flowers need sun
beams. Children look little beyond
the present moment. If a thing
pleases they are apt to seek it; if it
displeases they are prone to avoid
it. If home is the place where
faces are sour and words harsh,
and fault-finding is ever in the as
cendant, they will spend as many
hours as possible elsewhere. Let
every father and mother, then, try
to be happy. Let them talk to
their children, especially the little
ones, in such a way as to make
them happy.
PoETRY.-AII poetry is but the
reaching out of the soul,-all paint
ing, whether in words or colors,-]
forsomething better, brighter, fair-<
er than it has yet seen, but which 2
imagination prophesies is yet to
come. It sees brighter tints, more
indestructible loveliness than this
world contains, but which even its
disappointments and defeats fore
shadow; and which will certainly
coe rhp,ad &t,adlv
come,d o boen at, n oe
-M not be. 6
ADVERTISINC RATES@
Advertisements inserte at the raft off$1.00
per sqare--one inch-4'or fims inardw, and
75c. for each subsequent insertion. Double
column adrertisements tenper cent on aboes
Notices of iw o.btus and tribute
of respect, same rates per square asordinary
acLverdisement-S.
Special notices in local'colmsa 20 centa
per line.
Advertisements not marked itli 6We numi
ber of insertions will be kept' ft 10 forbid
and chargedaccordinly,
SPecdal Wftr6kt'~ade widz -- dvr
tisers, wM?libera dedctioso-jW atver.
O!k AOMwraw$
Done with Neatness anid bt4mob.
Terms CAA,.
W HY E. DID NOT -GMr THE
PLACE.-Several years ago a 'slab
5ided, awkward printer boy from
Nfainu. found his way to Washing
Lon in search* of an eyplc.
Frm Ewing".was then w-.-AM7r of
Lhe interior. To.him the ymng-.
Ater natdrally- applied frassst
%nde in getting the desired situa
,ion. This s7as:the -en6our*gng
inswer he received from -EM14:
"I will nt 'get you'a 'PWe in
My of the.dejiariments.,Xoreover,
f youjind &place and' towork
I[will uso all my ienci.ta have
'u ismisse& I watryon.-toge
)ut of Washingtoru . Lam not go-'
,ng to.have yoik 6ade info a limp
ind helpless up~eni ty if Ic .elp
L. Go'auywhere else,.go to the
levil if -you like; yon shan't sy
n Washington." - --
This insp'iriting.eounseM,drove the
?rinter youth back to "ane sgin.
El.d Ewing .foqnct -the idesired
'Place," he would'to-day.b.e _q.
ape around bundled.d&=ents,
)r sticking official stamps on some
)odyelse's letters,in onep of the
tepartments, an inert'himan ron
Aine-machine. But the uficle's'
iensible brusqueness. was the me
)hew's *salvation. The name of
hat discouraged yo6.plcn
.Vn_ JaLMes G.r 'BWlA, -tr&4ent -
breeze that had arisen, it dropped
upon the ground with its prey,
and deliberately sawed off with its
mandibles first one wing and then
the other. Having thus removed
these impediments to its progress,
the wasp flewaway with its booty
and experienced no further moles