Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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amm un A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets Vol. XI. WEDNESDAY MORNING, MARCH 24, 1875. No. 12. THE HERALD IS PUBLISHED 'EVERY WEDNESDAY MORUNING, _x~ewberry C . BY TPH09* 7, GRENEKERt Editor and Proprietor. Teows9 $2.50 per JautW,U InTariably in Ad*iance. Do; Th pperisstopped at the expiration of U7- The M mark denotes expiration of sub 6cription. "COMIE TO TH,E SOUTHI. Oh, come to the South, sweet beautiful one, Mis the clime of the heart, 'tis the shrine of the sun; Where the slay ever shines with a passionate glow, And flowers spread their treasure of crimson and snow; Where tb breeze o'er bright waters, waft incense alobg, And gay birds are glancing in beauty and song; Where7 the summer smiles ever o'er mountain And the best gifts of Eden, unshadowed, re main. O,comre to the Sfitb,' The shrine of the sun; And dwell in its bowe:s, *Sweet, beautifal one. bk, come to the South, and I'll build thee a Wheae 4inter shall never intrusivelyv come, The . 4Rn-11;k6 catalpa, the: myrtle and pine, The gold-fruited orange, the ruby-gemmed 6hI bloom 'round thy dwelling, and shadei 'fib -at noon, While birds or all music keep amorous tune; By the gash of glad fountains we'll rest us 4 ibIeto vacc us no -sorrows to'grieve. Oh, come to the South, The shr:Lne of the suan; And dwell in its bowers,4 BETTER THAN H. SEA -- BY 1AUL PLUME. -0 A quaint, old town was Herefor Its buildings were antiquated, at its inllabitants clng S4 tenaCiOU 1v to the traditions of thelr'fOT fathers that no more obstinate I Okelusive.set of land-owners cou be found in the shire. Scarcely more than two thou and souls comprised the poput tion, but what they lacked i numbers was balanced by the e: treme respectability of those wh ived and carried themselves t ittle lords among the tenantr' Rereford had its banking house. fo be sure, it was a dimiuutiv ppendage of the big concern i Liverpool, but Mr. Sandhurst Til on, M. P., resident partner, pri ided over its dignity and lived i hbe old brick mansion on the to .he hill, screened from vulgar gaz >y the heavy yew trees Lhatforn )d a cordon about his retreat. Elereford also had its Establishe hurch, and its good vicar, D, tole, though an austere man o he church homilies, could nevej heless, at times be as decorousl olly as the worst of his parishio[ rs, and was a rough rider whe he hounds were in full cry. The family of Mr. SandhurE Lipton consisted of his wife an wo daughters. The former wa L tall, stern-looking lady, wit nough dignity to have satisfie ,he mostexclusive aristocrat, wbil he daughters, Augusta and Cecili o the disgust of their parent. nost unaccountably had imbibe otions, altogether too plebian fo heir nation and birth. It wa irs. Tipton who had insisted o heir being educated abroad, an t ever since had been to her ource of lamentation, while he nore astute husband, who had ol >osed the scheme but nevertheleE ilded'to his wife's wishes, neve h'iled to remind her that the cor ~equence was the result of her ow olly. Mrs. pton knew thifull wel hrefore she never-sought to gait ay its truth, only she extenuate aer mistake:as;best as sh'e couk. eminding her~ Iord that she we 3ducated at the same institutio whither she had sent her daugi ters, and had come out sans r< Precept and expostulation seen d lost upon these willful girl nd they only laughed as the le bres thiey received, frequently r< plying by some club-house phras he obtained, heaven knoiw where. Two London seaso-ns ha Ealed to eradicate the blemish i their characters, and now Mr. Ti] ton and wife had resigned theu selves to the unhappy convictio that they must patiently endui that which they could not cure. The sisters were out one da: n horseback, and, as wvas the austom, they were unattended b n escort. Augusta, who was dashing horsewoman, was ridin near the edge of a wood that w: >ounded by a thick thorn hedg On the opposite side was a youn man who had fallen asleep rea ing a book which was lying on tI green sward. At a banter fro Cecily, Augusta put her horse the hedge and leaped him cle >ver it. A cry of pain immnediat y followed, and the young slee er sprang to his fee, then sta ered and fell, with his forehe cut open by the hoof of Augus Tipton's horse. The daughter of Sand hurst Ti ton possessed a courageous min She neither screamed nor wept the consequence of her unfortu.na "Tie your horse and climb ov here this instant," she called her sister, "1 believe I've killed poor fellow. How perplexing th is, to be sure." She had sprut fom her saddle and knelt besi< the bleeding man, while he was unconscious of the fair fingers th was twisting .a cambric handke chief about his temples. Cecily, in conformity to her s: ter's summons, had scrambli through the hedge, and was doir what she could to bring t] stranger to consciousness. "Ee's handsome-don't y o think so, Gussy ?" she asked, ga ing on his pale face. Her sister made no reply, b clutched at her vinaigrette and a plied it to his nostrils. It happened that Cecily at th m moent spied a letter lying< the ground, near the book. In: instant she had caught it up, al wth womanly curiosity was e aming the superscription. It w nnmared Busel, andadre ed to Mons. Louis Bernier, Lon. don. Cecily pressed her hand upon , her brow, as if in thought, and then handed the letter to Augusta. The latter looked sharply at the superscription, and then remarked: "Oh ! that's it. How strange !" d- "Where did we hoar that name?". id asked Cecily. "I am certain we t have come across it somewhere ?" "In the newspaper," replied her >r sister, "don't you remember, a few d days since, the announcement of Count Bernier's son being impli cated in that French plot, and the Mflight of young Bernier to Bel n gium." . "True enough," responded her 0 sister. "Wouldn't it be romantic s if our stranger and young Bernier weie identical ?" Augusta pushed the letter in the C young man's pocket none too soon, for be opened his eyes and gazed languidly at his fair companions. "Do you feel much pain ?" in n quired Augusta, "I really cannot P express my sorrow at having been e 'the author of your accident. It is very strange you did not hear - us." d "I was asleep; mademoiselle," be replied, in a low voice that had just enough of the French accent in it to establish his nationality. Y A half hour later and the sisters were sitting beneath a tree, with r Louis Bernier telling them the story of his life. t In one of the houses at the out d skirts of Hereford, Louis Bernier 8 had found a temporary home with a stout yeoman named Perry i Hawks. There were very many e reasons why he desired obscurity at that moment, and not the least 6 of which was his wish to keep his father, the count, in ignorance of r his whereabouts. He therefore s gave an assumed name, when oc casion required it, and had not d Augusta boldly charged him as a being the son of Count Bernier, r Andhaving to fly his country, it is probable he never would have re s vealed himself. But the positive t' and unexpected man'ner of Augus Sta Tipton had taken him at a dis nI advantage; and he surrendered at discretion, only stipulating that I if4they ever met in the presence of others they should kno w him as Mr. d Lewis. L,Shortly after the event just ,s. narrated, a .young man named a' Lewis appeared at the bank of SMr. Ti pton and deposited several ~thousand pounds, at the same time presenting a letter of introduction Sto that gentleman from one of his S' Lon don friends, wyho apol ef SLewis'as tlis'son 6f a d'is'tin - SThe banker offered Mr. Lew64e s5 hospitality of his house, ana"i t d vited him to dine. ~fLe wis' complexion was habitual Sly pale, but upon the present oc Scasion it wvas whiter than usual, n and the newly-healed seam across 'O his forehead was still visible in a crimson line. His introduction 6' must have caused Augusta and .r Cecily some secret amusement. Y Be that as it may, they never., by a look or sign, betrayed the thoughts g that passed through their minds. as Every small community seems 3- to be afflicted with one or more g persons whose chief business seems to be in discovering facts regard Le ing their neighbors hitherto un a known, and then, without loss of a time, proclaiming them to the dis tr comfiture of those concerned. In e- the person of Tom Delong, Here P- foi-d had one of these interprising Sindividuals. Moreover, he was d the nephew of Sandburst Tipton, a The banker had for years set his face against his nephew's manner P- of life, but as "blood is thicker d- than water." he could not cast off at his dead sister's child, so Tom had Le a carte blanche to his uncle's house, where he never failed to disgust his er aunt and her husband by his slang Lo of the race course and prize ring a -in his estimation two of Eng is land's most valued institutions. ig Mr. Tipton was sitting in his l room at the bank, when Tom en dl tered. Ett "Good day, uncle," he said, r- flinging himself down carelessly on a sofa. s- Mr. Tipton raised his eyes and d welcomed his nephew in a com ig monplace way. 1c "Who was that fellow you had up to the house at dinner the u 6ther day ?" z-~"I am not aware that I had any 'fellow,'" answered the banker, at with some severity of tone. p- '"Oh, you object to the term, do you ?" replied Tom; "let me qualify at it by calling him a chap." yn "Quite as objectionable as your mn previous expression, sir," respond id ed his uncle. "If you refer to Mr. x- Lewis, who has deposited in this as banik, and who brought me a let *,@;er _fintrouctQio frQm m~y id Colonel Branford, I request you to speak of him with more re spect." "Branford! Branford !" replied Tom, "why that's the name of the shooter who used to stop with you so often a few years past. By Jove, I knew I had heard the name somewhore. Did-' you no tice. his death in The Post ?" Mr. Tipton started 4Xom his seat and grasped tbe Ir. Sure enough, -Colonel Brafoidhad fall en 'dead at his efl0 '-Yerdict, apoplexy. So -sudden was the news thatthe banker felt sick and was obliged to swallow some wine. Branford and himself had been sHor>lfellodsv in a .few days he was to have seen him. '*What were you going to say regarding Mr. Levis, Thomas ?" isked the banker. "I was simply going to state "hat I have good reason to doubt hat he is what he represents him ;elf, and perhaps if I give you my -eason you'll come down from hat high horse you are on and isten with more attention to what [ have to say. Please tell me the lay that Mr. Lewis, as you call im, dined with you." "Let me see," replied the bank r, running over the days in his nind-"it was last Friday week." "Friday is an unlucky day to )et on a horse, whatever it may >e on a man. Friday week, hey? Wfell, Uncle Sand, for a week or nore previous to his introduction ,o my cousins, they had met him ery few days, and as far as they wvere concerned I don't think an otroduction wasat all necessary." "How dare you make such an issertion ?" cried the b a n k e r, pringing to his feet, and confront ng his nephew with face alternate y white and red. "Because I interrupted the meet ngs myself," replied Tom, with ,he utmost coolness, "and I dare issert anything I know to be true; but if you don't believe it, why of yourse it don't make any difference 'o me. Good-by," and he arose to eave. "Stay !" responded his uncle, Matll me all about it." Tonm seated himself again, and gave a detailed- account of the imes he had seen Augusta and Decily meet Lewis. Each time tbey met near th~e scene of the ac sident by the wood. Tom never beard any conversation between hem; he was up among the trees gtting grubs to go fishing. Mr.. Tipton left the bank earlier than usual that day, and on his arrival home his daugh' 9rs were summoned to his preence and re guested to give an explanation of jpMi4ius seqnaintdice witrh Mr. Lewis. In a shsort ecisive way, Augus ta related the accident that occur red on her leaping the hedge, and frankly admitted that both her self and Cecily had met Lewis even as Tom Delong had reported. "Then why did you not mention it, at least why did you let me suppose you were strangers when I brought him to my house ? Ex plain that, if you please." "1 cannot do it," replied his daughter, "at least without vi' lating his confidence." "His confidence," sneered her father. "Ho ! it's come to that, has it ? That will do." Mr. Lewis received a short, curt note through the post, in the handwriting of Sandhurst Tipton, requesting a suspension of his visits to his house, and declining any intercourse except upon busi ness. By the same mail came aforeign letter for Lewis (whose retreat, it seems, had been discovered), giv ing him intelligence of the death of his father, and requesting his return to France, his family having secured his p)ardon from the Gov ernment. Notwithstanding the vigilance of Mr..Tipton and Tom .Delong, Augusta a'nd Lewis had a final interview, then he was soon no more. A year had passed away and Mr. Tipton had ceased to remem ber Lewis, when he one day re ceived a letter from the Brit :,L Ambassador at .Paris informing him that Count- Bernier, a dis tinguished nobleman, at that time in the Kingc's service, was about to visit England, and that he would have the pleasure of giving. him a letter of introduction to Mr. Tip ton. The banker read the communi cation with feelings of pleasure. It v,ias always gratifying to his vanity to be the recipient of such communications. His wife, to whoinm he exhibited the letter, at once began to plan a match for her daughter Augusta. The lat terindulgedin such hearty screams of laughter that the propriety ofi her mother ua shocked It was arranged that a grand It dinner should be given in honor t of the count's arrival. A malicious t smile was ever playing upon the il lips of Augusta, which both her t' father and mother attributed to a n wrong motive. h In his old accustomed seat at the bank, Sandhurst Tipton was ii sitting some months afterward, 'I when the card of Count Bernier a .vas handedhim. ti "Show him in immediately," ci cried the banker, springing to- T ward the door. ti The next moment he had me- h chanically grasped the hand of the ir count, and the two stood regarding t< each other in silerce. At length t) Mr. Tipton spoke: . tl "How is this? I believe I am c< looking upon Mr. Lewis ?" ti The count smiled, and sitting 0 down by the banker, explained all n that was mysterious in his first ai visit to Hereford, and completely c( satisfied the banker of the pro- ai priety of his actions. tc Before leaving the bank Count It Bernier had obtained Mr. Tipton's ti consent to propose to his -daugh- ti ter. ti "Come down stairs," cried the se banker, as he arrived at his door, d< absolutely forgetting, for the mo- a ment, his decorum, "come down ai here and see an old acquaintance." m * *. * * * sl A few weeks later there was a W grand time at the Tipton mansion; PI every one- was jolly, and none h more so than Dr. Stole, as he fuss- la ed and fumed about the rooms. s1 Augusta was to marry a nobleman a after all. Her mother's cup of ti joy almost ran over. TomDelong ti was there, but he didn't call the C< count a "fellow," and suipended t( his slang phrases, except in one I] solitary instance. When his aunt o asked him what he thought of bi the ceremony, he replied, "Well, s( the parson gave them a fair start, al and I think on asquare heat Gassy ci will come out ahead." al h UARRIED LIFE.g ITs JARS AND ITs TROUBLES-A BIT it OF ADVICE FROM A sUPREME COURT JUDGE. In denying the preliminary ap- g plication of a wife to enable her 0 to biga suit for divorce against 'a her hasL and, Judge Donohnre, of s4 the New York Supreme Court, t~ gave some very sound advice to d married people who are troubled h with "ine.ompatibility of tempera- V ment." The case, whose abrupt f termination afforded the occasion c for these remarks, appears to have a: been a very' frivolous one. The ri "cruel and inhuman treatment" t< complained of by the wife seems t4 to have mainly consisted of occa- t sional exhibitions of boorishness n on the part of the husband.- fl On one ocassion he was bored if with her piano playing, and at- li tempted to summarily stop the h annoyance by closing the lid of fi the instrument. His wife resisted, 2 and got her fingers pinched. At S another time he refused to budge t( from the two chairs he oeupied v before the window to enable her to ci remove some pet birds which were 0: hanging outside. A third specifi- ~ cation related to the violent ring- ~ ing of the door bell at night by Ii the defendant. Acts like these 0: were the head and front of the ir husband's offending, and yet they c were deemed suffEcient to warrant E a demand for alimony and allow- a ance for counsel fees, to enable the v wife to prosecute a suit for di- il vorce from bed and board. ti There seems to have been evi- ti dence enough in the case to se- a cure a verdict from any female el jury that the Liusband had behaved ' like a "brute." But then had his re wife's temper and conduct no ti share in making him so ? It was h very wrong to close the piano on ti his wife's fingers, but was it quite right to insist on compelling a d man to listen to music that he did not want ? Is it wise to make a man's home so disagreeable thatq he must either seek quiet and re-E pose outside of it, or resort to force to secure them inside ? As to the pet-bird episode, it would bea interesting to hear in what kind h of tone the wife asked her husband to sit on one side ; and before con- h denging. without reserve that mo- r rose and surly person, it might be only fair to give him some credit for a dim feeling of regret that the wo man he bad courted in days gone d by had love to spare for her cana- hi ries, but none for him. Again, why should a wife's nerves be jarred t by her husband's ring at the door bell, even-if it were late at night ? Thr r -e w4~ftdroe Threr oinen tho~ ? fdoreu m5ld~i meoy 4n. ndok iined in all the seven-octaves of 1 heir pianofortes, or all the artless .ills of their pet canaries. Was not partly her own fault that Irl ie plaintiff in this case found the r Lidnight ring so disagreeable to ' 0 1 0 0an, er nerves ? a We submit these points less da -ith reference to the litigant hompsons than to the scores of arried couples whose "diffical- go Cs" are fairly illustrated by the de] )mplaint in the casa in question. b he old-fashioned theory of mu- rl ial obligation in the marriage re ,tion is a good.ieal lost Sight of 0 ter these days. Men -are too apt his carry their business faces and m me eir business thoughts home with fiel iem,- and so bring nothing but ba< )ldness, hardness, and reeerve to cro ke society of wife and children. lab a the. other hand, women are kii >t ready enough to make allow- of, ice-for the wear.and tear of our an immercial life apon-the nerves ed id temper of the man who has gal bear the brunt of the struggle. th is to a very large ex-tent- for for eir wives' and childrea's sakes mo at men are tempted to overtax mi eir energies, and to-make them- di Ives prematurely old,. ir the en- we iavor to get rich or to maintain the certain social position. There the -e -many thing that clouds a Vil an's brow and sour his temper, lea iout which he cannot take his ife into his confidence. She would -obably not understand them if ) did, and the attempt to trans- aff" to these troubles into definite an( eech is to many men a more ute pain than to.simply endure ke em. Women may have noticed his e fact that the b-oiling kettle me intinues to bubble for a little af- exi r it has been lifted from the fire. rio i the same way the active brain tio the hard-worked professional or isiness man will, in spite of him if, run on the affairs of his office do ter he has come within the pre- of nets of home. A wise wife will ake allowance for the occasion- bei graffness -whose source she can- nei :t understand, and will make it wi sr business to smooth out the it i ard lines of the troubled face, and bo: sntly to allow the soothing in tence of a pleasant home to work en s gradual but certain cure.ti Of course, deeper than all faults i boedlessness - or want of -heart be the radical moral error of for etting what the marriage cove- su~ ant is. As Judge 2Donohue re- a inded the sensitive Mrs. Thomp >nl, people take in marriage "cer tin duties on themselves, and un- e artake to bear the infirmities of of umanity which each possesses." for (hether "for better or for worse, die ir richer or poorer," is expressly hie >nvenanted or not, the conditions of ceo distinctly understood, and mar- g ed people are as obviously bound >accommodate their tastes and - ipers to each other as they are >respect the inviolability of their eigh bor's property. They have a right to subject their children, ~ they have any, to the demora sing influences of a contentious or ome, or to the shame inseparable h om a broken marriage bond. h hey have just as little right to ab eaken the tie which holds society a gether by treating the marriage :w as a thing terminable at the ba iprice or the vindictive impulse to Seither of the parties to it. ac4 here has been a groat deal too a J uch twaddle talked and pub- ocI shed about the sentimental side fat Sthis question. On the stage, the court of justice, in the kii iurch, even, we have had too for any exposures of the morbid an- of ~omy of the minds of vain or tol cious people, who chafe under fai 1c ties of matrimony. It is about all me that the simple and impera- cy ye duty of married men and wo- Ca] ten should be a little more insist- die I on, and as a contribution to thi hat is in danger of becoming.a ed ther scanty department of litera- shi re, we commend Judge Dono. hi[ u's brief remarks to public atten- we on. su( - - - + loil A HoM1ESICK TRAY.-A "yaller" do' >g has covered himself with glo- era r as a traveler or pilgrim or to 2adrupedestrian. He was taken oti st fall from Indiana to Kansas. lot ut he didn't like Kansas, and fro as h o m esic k through and hos irough. He found meat scarce tin d was averse to a diet of grass- anm ppers. So he tramped it over mu iles and miles of desolate prairies; the s swam the Kansas and Missourith vers; and one day, footsore, hoa eary, and lean, he barked at the i d door. HIe was six weeks upon tir ec journey; and the first thing he d upon getting home was to eat sdinner calmly, the next to drive w ~e pigs out of the yard according his .ancient custo. Teha -meemti~ u e~a for artn nothing, bu -ehdfr __tten ___nothing. ti Wlall ~aintiicte'? f WASIINGTON'S AGRICUL TURAL LIF, 'he following extracts fro, ring's Life of Washington wi cherished by-every enlightene d working farmer: 'A large Virginia estate in-thoq rs was a little empire. Tb ,nsion house was the seat c 7ernment,- with its numerou )endencies, such as kitcheni oke-house, work-shops, and stu s. In this mansion the plante ed supreme; his -steward, o irseer, was his prime minis and executive officer; he hal legion of house negroes for dc stic service, and his host c d negroes for the culture of tc co, Indian corn and othe ps, and for other out of doo or. Their quarters formed id'df IaMlet apart, comp'o1's various huts with little garden I poitry yards, all well stock and swarms of little negroe nboling in the sunshine. Thei re were large- wooden edifice curing tobacco, the staple ani st profitable production, an< Is for grinding wheat and In n corn, of which large field re cultivated for the supply o family and the maintenance o negroes. *** * Th 'ginia planters were prone t ve the cai'& of th'eir estates to ch to their overseers, and. t ok personal labor adegradatior shington carried into his rurs tirs the same method, activit I circumspection, that distit shed him in military life. H >t his own acdounts, posted u books, and balanced them wit reantile exactness. We hav tmined them as well as his dii s recording his daily occupi ns, and his letter-books contaiE entries of shipments of tobacc< I correspondenice with.his Lor 2 agents. 'They are monument business habits. 'The p'roducfs of his estate als JaEne so noted for the faithfu is, as to quality and quantit; h which they were put up,tha s said any barrel of flour whic ee the brand of 'Geo. Was! ~ton, Mount Vernon,' was e2 pt from the customary inspe n in the West India ports. 'He was an early riser; of te ore day-break, in the wintea ~en the nights were long. 0 h occasions he lit his own fir< I wrote or read by candle-ligh breakfasted at seven in sun r, at eight in wiater, two sma ys of tea and three or four cake Indian meal (called hoe cake, med his frugal repast. Immi tely after breakfast he mounte horse, and visited those part the estate where any work wa ing on, seeing to every thin Lh his own eyes, and often ai< Swith his own hands. 'Dinner was served at tw lock. He ate heartily, but we epicure, nor critical about hi ~d. His beverage was small be( cider, and two glasses of ol ~deira. He took tea, of whic was very fond, early in th nn,and retired for the nigt ut nine o'clock. 'If confined to the house b I weather, he took that occasio arrange his papers, post up hi ~ounts, or write letters ; passin art of. the time in reading, an ~asionally reading aloud to th aily; 'He treated his negroes wit dness; attended to their con ts, and was particularly careft them in sickness; but neve erated idleness, and exacted thful performance of all thei ctted tasks. He had a quic a at calculating each man >abilities. An entry in h' ry gives a curious instance < s. Four of his negroes employ as carpenters, were hewing an< sping timber. It appeared, t a in noticing the amount <: rk accomplished between tw ceeding mornings, that the; sered at their labor. Sittin en quietly he timed their oj tions. How long it took ther get their cross-cut saw an Ler implements ready ; hoi g to clear away the branche m the trunk of a fallen tree gvlong to hew and saw it; wha ie was expended in considering i consulting ; and after all, hoi ch work was accomplished i1 time he looked on. Fror se he made his computatioi much they could accomplis] he course of a day, working en ~ly at their ease. At another time we find Ein rking a part of two days wit] ,er, his smith; to make aplow a new invention of his owi is after-two or three failures, h< inmplish'ed. Then w i t hi leB t i sa ugel~b u tw hro O~8 t n his usuat judgment, he, pu i.wo chario6 horses to ths plow and ran a great risk of spoil ing them, in giving his new in vention a trial on ground thickly y swarded. "Anon, during a thunder-storm, d a frightened negro alarms the house with the word that the mill e is giving way, upon which there e is a general turn out of all the T -forces, with Washington .at their s head wheeling an d shoveling gravel, during a pelting rain, to check the rushinga water." r r WHAT I BEGIN TO. BELIEVE. I begin to believe' now-a-days, that money makes the man, and dresses the woman. 1. begin to believe that the r purse is more potent than the r sword and the pen put togeth er. I begin to believe that those 8 who sin the most during the week are the most devout on Sunday. S I begin to believe that man was 2 made to enjoy life, but.to keep him self.miserable in the pursuit and possession of riches. I begin to believe that the surest remedy for hard times and tigPht money market is an extrav agant expenditure on the part of individuals-to keep money mov ing. I begin' to believe that piano fortes are more necessary in a D family than meat and potatoes. I begin to believe that 'a -boy who does not swear, smoke and F chew tobacco, may be a very giod boy, but is naturally stupid. e I begin to believe that if the dev P il should die one-half the' world would be thrown out of employ e ment. I begin to believe that he has the most merit who -makes the most noise in his own behalf,- and that when Gabriel comes-not to be behind the times-he, too, will a blow his -own horn pretty loud. A New York correspondent re lates a marvellous story of how a well known aharitable lady of that h city recently had her pocket pick ed of seven hundred dollars, which she was carrying home from a fair for the benefit of the poor. The fact of'the robbery is not in itself' so very remarkable, but the romance of the story comes in the recitalof how aday or two after the theft, a rough looking man rang the door bell of the lady's house,and be -ing admitted, returned the seven Ihundred dollars, adding: "The SFraternity, Madam, desired me to Ssay that you are known and admi red by them, and that the annoy d ance you have suffered in the loss s of this money was owing to a mis Stake. The person. who took it did not recognize you. Further, j hat you never need be worried should you loss money in this Scity again ; if you do lose any, it swill be by accident, and will cer Stainly be restored to you, as this rhas been. Appreciating your good d deeds, the Fraternity take the h liberty of adding one hundred dol e lars to the amount returned, and tnow I will bid- you good day." This smacks of the genuine foot. pad of romance, and makes the reader think that SI1erwood Forest has been transported to New York, s and that a modern Robin Hood is cutting throats and dispensing d charity, as' did his prototype of e former years. Ii BURN KEROSENE THE RIGHT t- WAY.-A correspondent of the Ll New York Sun, calls attention of r all consumers of kerosene oil a to the pernicious and unhealthy r practice of using lamps filled with k that article with the wicks 5 turned down. The gas which 5 should be consumed by the flames ~f is by this means left heavily in -the air, while the cost of the oil I thus saved at present prices would 0 scarce be one dollar a~ year for f the lamps of a household. His at 0 tention was called particularly to V' this custom by boarding in the g country where kerosene was the '- only available light. A large fami a ly of cnildren living in the same d house were- taken Ill one night, r and on going to the nursery the s mother found the room nearly ;suffocating, with a lamp turned t down, whereupon the physician g forbade the use of a lamp at night, r unless turned at fall head. He 1 says he could quote many case?, i one of a young girl subject to fits 3 of faintness, which if not induced, ' were greatly increased by sleep. - ing in a room with the lamp al most turned out. Besides the i damage to health, it spoils the pa 1 per and cartains, soils the mirrors ,and windows, and gives the whole house an untidy air and an un Swholesomel odor. . a h.ws hn nmti mouv. sraighti-wsen n ai moziy," eLrai6hteILed u~a6ai~. ADVERTISINC RATES. Advertisements inserWe at the zwae f $1.00 per square-one inch-for Aimt uon, ad 75c. for. each subsequev4 iniation . Double column advertisements tenpa qent6naW"l -Notices of teetings,obitas nd haibWe of respect, same rame Oer squkr* as,drdibary advertisements.. Special noticeu in local coluj"20 aents per line. Advertisements not midwea wid& &6um ber of insertions will be kqpt-la AB-faNbd and charged accordingly.. special couUmb lsa -ith -adver tsr,withlUberaldaluctious onabw tame. Done with Neatness-ard DIqsl* Terms Cas. WRITERS OPONE AMOUL The fame of many writ4isrests6 on a single producetion. Defoe was a voluminoas'author, bat "Robinson. CrAtsoe!".is all-that-has come down to us 1'The Burial'o Sir John Moore, has embal Me4d the memory of the Bei.'Creis Wolfe, no less than, that. f thre military hero. It is so in saored poetV. ,: T most favorite hymns, and.y.66J6ll find -their aathors ecomposio' thing else.so, popular. Theirgenins seems2 to ha*e L-een e.1hs6'i',t8&,.y ,a single happy Affort.' Iet:*-IO atafe illutmtious.: "(Come, thou: founaft Of evpry blessing,"1 was the 'earliet. SA.' best 'per formance of RobeA~ A'46 ertson ,awakenednder the Ipreseh ing of Whitefield. 'He w vi Usta ble, beoming MKethodist, ~u peiacent, Baptist, and finall -dyin an avowed. SOcinW4,in19 "Rock df Aged is agliu Christian. l1Yric,,a;nd Top;ilifi.a left n6thiig hbalfeco preli-4 began his minis try -APt'T beautiful MWT ldmd -in. 176. Toplidy was'bitt er enou4gh:i4djs put, at issproeaL s harshness when. he tape&