Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c Vol. XI WEDNESDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 1, 1875. No. 35. THE HERALD IS PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING, At Newberry, S. C. BY THo. F. GRENEKER, Editor and Proprietor. Terms, $2.50 per innum, Invariably in Advance. tt The paper is stopped at the expiration of time for which it is paid. 07- The p mark denotes expiration of sub pcription. THE PLVMBER'S REVENGE. A LEGEND ON MADISON AVENUE. CAINTO 1.-THE DEAT-BED OATH. It was some thirty years ago, An evening calm and red, Whenagold haired strippling stood beside His father's dying bed. "Attend, my son." the sick man said, "Unto my dying tones, And swa etesnal vengeance to The acqrsed Ice of Jones. For why? Just nineten yearg ago A gil sat by my side, Witb cheek of rose and breast of snow, My peealess promised bride. A viper by the name of Jones Caie in between us twain. With honeyed words he stole away My loved Belinda Jane. For he was rich and I was poor, And poets all are stupid Who feign-the god of love is not Cpidity, but CApid. Perhanw 'tis well; for, had I wed That maid of dark-brown curls, You had not been or been, instead Of boy, a pair of girls. Now, listen tome, Walter Smith; His to yon plumber bold. Ah thaVoud'st ease my dying pang, His-'prentice be enrolled. For Jones has houses many on The fashionable squares, And then perchance may'st be called In To see to the repairs. Think on thy father's ravished love, Recall thy father's ills. Bemember this, the death-bed oath, Then make out Jones' bills!" CANTO II.-TEE YOUNG AVENGEn. Yonag Walter's to the plumber gone, A boy with smut on nose; Fursace and carpet-sack in hand, With the Joarneymnan he goes. Now grown a journeyman himself, Ingrimy iiand he gripes A cadle-end,.ad 'neath i e sink Explores the frozen pipes. His furnace portable he lights With smoking wads of news Papers, and smiles to see within The pot the soler fuse. He gives his flat; "They are froze Down about sixteen feet; If you want-water ere July,. Yea must dig up theistreet.." "Patia Plumber" now is he, As witnesseth his sign, - And ready now "to undertake jiiirin say:line." - One day ahousemaid, as hesat . At the receipt of'biz, Cauiie cying: "Ho, Sir Smith, Sir Smith, Sirones'ppenzvs! He girt )ils apron around his loins, His tools took from the shelf, And to~the journeyman he said, "I'll see to this myself." * e m * * a "Would," said he as be drew the bill, "My father were alive! 10 lb. of solder at 10e., $1 75." CANTO III.-THE TRAITOR'S DON. The Jones bad houses many on The avenues and squares, And hired the young Avenger, Smith, To see to the repairs; And Smith put faucets in, and cocks, And meters, eke, and -taps, Connections, T joints, sewer pipes, Basins, and water traps; He tore the walls and ripped the fioors, Torveach the pipes beyond: And excavations in the street, And 'neath the sidewalk yawned; And daily as he entered up The items in his book, The plumber's face wore a serene And retrospective look. And Jones would wring his hands and cry, "Woe, woe, and utter woe! Ah me! that! taxes should be so high And rents should be so low!" Then he would give the Smith the house, As instalment on account Of Its repairs, and notes of hand For the rest of the amount. CANTO IV.-AYENGED AT LAST. Now, Smith had been for a dozen years In the practical plumbing line, And the bills of Smith did not grind slow, And the.ygound exremied fine. Terrace by terrace, house by house, The lands of Jones he took, And heavier still the balance was Writ In that fatal book. At last no property-nor cash Had he ; so he did fail,. Andl the amsaing plumber locked Him up in Ludlow Jail. His heartless creditor he besought For mercy in his need: "Nay, nay, no mercy: lie and rot," Quoth he, "in jail like Tweed, For I have sworn avenged to be On thee,thy-kin-and kith; Rememberest.thou Belinda Jane? -1 am th55eso'rmith!!! -G. T. Lanigan, In the New York World. School Inspector (to urchin) "Now, Johnny, how maany can you countf" Johnny-''Oune, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten." Inspector-' 'G o o d, Johnny, go on," Johnny (after a moment's thought)-"Jack, queen king, ace." "Jury," said a Western Judge, "you kin go out and find a verdict. I o a', find one of yonr on,i Almost a Centennial Romance. -0 It was Sunday, July 14, 1776 just ninety nine years ago to-day -and the rudely constructed fort atBoonesborough lay in drowsy still ness on the bank of the Kentucky river. Daniel Boone and his friend Pnd associate, Richard Callaway, had been absent since early in the morning; and the good wives, sharers in the toil of the early pion eer days were enjoying the rest that the Sabbath brought even to the unbroken wilderness. In the grateful shade of a tree in one cor ner of the inclosure sat three young girls, just blooming into wo manhood, and giving an unwonted charm to the rough evidences of civ ilization which had but recently for ced themselves upon the primitive harmony of the surrounding scene ry. The eldest of these maidens was Elizabeth Callaway. The experi ences of life rather than the observ ance of nature seem to have given turn to the thoughts and tastes of the early settlers, so, while the eu phonious name of Bessie might have harmonized well with the mur muring river and the soft and lan guid aspect of nature in her summer garb, the hard, every day' life of the adventurous dwellers in the dark and bloody ground seemed to comport best with the harsher name of Betsy. So Elizabeth was known simply as Betsy Callaway-not a name suggestive of romance, yet she was witha a gentle and a loving girl, and had maiden fancies that gave the deep color of ro mance to one of the incidents of her life in the wilderness. She was just turned of sixteen, and as she sat under the tree that sultry summer afternoon, ninety-nine years ago this day, the sun that now and then stole through the foliage and play ed upon her rounding form and athwart her well- set head seemed to bring out more fully the lithesome ness of her young womanhood, the glossy blackness of her raven tress es, and the rich olive color of'her d]ark complexion. The other girls were younger by two years, and differed from her in appearance. Fanny Callaway was fairer than her sister Betsy, but not more pleasing in appearance. The third girl, Jemima Boone, was also naturally fair and, like Fanny, owed whatever of fairnes's she may have lost to constant exposure to the weather. Nor were these young er maidens without their fancies,too, for the wilderness matures its occu pants rapidly, and though but four teen years counted the lives of the two girls, each had a lover who was a hardy and bold pioneer and ready to encounter any danger for his la dy-love. Perhaps these young girls were silent and sat there communing with their own thoughts or thinking of their absent heroes, who had gone out that day with Boone and Callaway ; perhaps they were con versing about their matrimonial ar rangements; perhaps they were idly chatting about anything, and every thing, and nothing; for feminine nature a hundred years ago, and in the wildest wilderness, was not un like it is now,and in the most civ ilized communities. But as eve ning drew near the last lingering breath of air seemed to lull itself to rest, and the July heat seemed to become still more oppressive. The quick-ear of one of the girls caught the sound of the river as its subdued murmur floated up the river bank,and she proposed that they should go a short distance below the for-t to where a canoe was lying,and drift out upon the bosom of the river to catch the rising coolness of the evening waters. Hardly were they seated, and pre pared to push from the shore, when they detected a slight rustle in the brush,andin a moment more five stal wart and hideously-painted Indians leaped to the side of the canoe and pulled it close to the shore. What girl of sixteen could be equal to such Ian emergency? It was here that the true heroine displayed herself. It was here that the sentimental girl, who ha jnst been dreaming of her absent lover, and wandering through the realms of maiden fanc3 with love-sick girls like herself, in an instant converted herself into thE daring and hardy woman of th( frontier; it was here that Betsy Callaway, without a moment's hesi tation, determined to defend the honor and the lives of herself and her young companions, and wrote her name in the annals of Ken tacky. Standing erect in the canoe, she seized the paddle, and at a single blow laid open to the bone the head of the foremost savage. The other Indians pressed on, but, still undaunted the brave girl foughi them with the ferocity of a mothei protecting her young. Finally ex hausted, she sank to the bottom ol the canoe, and with her trembling sister and friend was dragged ashore, and hurried off to meei whatever fate might be in store foi them. We have honored the memorieE of the heroes of Bunker Hill; we have reverently celebrated the occa sion when George Washington turn ed his back upon the delights o home and gave his sword to a caust in which failure would be iguomin3 and death; we are preparing to cel ebrate with impressive splendor th( centennial anniversary of the mem orable event that gave us independ ence, and illustrated the exalted courage of the statesmen of 1776 let us pause for a moment to d( honor to this brave girl, who bat tied so heroically with a foe thai even strong men hesitated to en counter; let us lift the romance o her rude life out of the common rut of girlish sentiment and make hei love one of the episodes of our his tory. The consternation at the fort cai well be imagined. The fathers o: the girls soon returned, and, befor( the night closed in, Daniel Boone at the head of a party on foot, ani Richard Callaway, at the head of i party on horse back, were off in par suit. In Boone's party were Sam uel Henderson, John Holder am Flanders Callaway. What g a v , these youths such determined looki and made them press on so eagerly Was it only a knightly spirit tha prompted them to the rescue of for lorn and captured damsels ? Al as Samuel Henderson strode along he was thinking of the olive-cheek ed heroine, Betsy Callaway ; an< John Holder clenched his hand and ground his teeth when hi thought of poor frightened Fanny and Flanders Callaway almost for got his kith and kin for thinking of his captured Jemima Boone. W, can easly smile over it now ; bu let any man put himself in the placi of any one of these young mex and ask himself how he would fee in such a pursuit, knowing that th girl he loved and hoped to mak his wife was in the power of rath~ less, cruel and treacherous say ages. When the Indians started with th girls they made the younger one take off their shoes and put on mo< assins, but Betsy refused to take oj her shoes, and as she walked aloni she ground her heel into the soil t leave a trail. Noticing this the It dians made the whole party wal apart and deviate fi-om the cours4 so as to wade through the water an destroy the trail. Then the ur daunted Betsy broke off twigs an dropped them along the road neve doubting for a moment that her fa them and her lover would soon be i: hot pursuit of them; and when th savages threatened her with uplifi ed tomahawk if she persisted i: this, she secretly tore off portions c her dress and dropped them on th~ road. BLoone's party soon found th~ trail, and followed it rapidly, fearin that the girls might grow weary an be put to death. All Sunday nigh and all Monday the pursuit wa kept up. On Tuesday morning a slet der column of smoke was seen i: the distance, and the experience, eye of the hunter at once de tected the camp of the Indians. serious difficulty now presented il self. How were the captives to b rescued without giving the captor time to kill them?~ There was but ii tie time for reflection, as the Indian nmust quickly discover their prei ence. The white men were suir hnts and so they picked their mer fired upon them, and then rushed into the camp to the rescue. At I the moment of the attack the girls were sitting at the foot of a tree; Betsy with a red bandanna handker chief thrown over her head, while the heads of Fanny and Jemima were reclining in her lap. Betsy's olive complexion came near serving her a bad turn at this juncture, for, one of the rescuing party coming suddenly upon her mistook her for an Indian and was about to knock her brains out with the butt of his rifle when a friendly hand interven ed, and saved the girl from meeting her death just at the moment when she saw tberty within her reach. The fathers and gallants carried their loved ones home in triumph, and this romance of real life in Ken tacky a century ago would not be complete without the information that the dreams of love and happi ness that was so cruelly disturb ed ninety-nine years ago this sum mer day were consequently all real ized. Brave Betsy Callaway be came Mrs. Samuel Henderson, and lived to tell the story of her capture to her children and her children's children. Iittle Fnny became Mrs. John Holder; and Flanders Callaway took to his home Miss Je -mima Boone, and thus cerqented the friendly ties of the Boones and Callaways. It is a long time ago; nigh on to a hundred years, and all the actors in the romance have . long since departed, but their mem ory is green with many of us yet, - and we can all well afford to give r a few thoughts to the event that t marked their characters and the times in which they lived and lov ed.-Courier-Journal. AS EASY AS SKATING. The following clever sketch of an unsuccessful effort in a popular di version by one who knew nothing of its arts and mysteries, will amuse our readers. We are unable to give the name of the author or to Scredit it to its original source, or we would gladly do so : "You see," said my friend Reglet, as he cut a "pigeon's wing" on the 'glassy surface at the rink, went off on one foot and came circling around on the other ; "you see, it 1is an exercise which brings all the Smuscles into play, and must be e healthy. In fact, Dio Lewis says Sit is better than riding horseback." -It looked so easy and so nice that SI winked at the boy who had skates e to lend, and he came over. S"That's right, old boy," called a Reglet as he sailed around with a handsome girl on each arm, and 1 a lovely blonde hanging to his coat e tails; "I'll bet a hundred dollars e you'll learn all the flourishes within an hour." -I was highly gratified at this ex pression of confidence in my ability, e and I kept hurrying up the boy as s he fastened on the skates. SThe impudent saucebox said I had better strap a pillow on the Sback of my head before I started out, but I passed the insinuation by in silent contempt. S"Now, then," said Reglet, circling Sup with a dozen French flourishes, "the main thing is to have confi -dence in yourself. Strike right out like a pioneer getting away from a r troup of wolves, and I'l bet a hun dred to one you'll make a skater." LI struck out. I struck in sev e eral directions. besides out. One Sfoot went to the left, the other to Sthe right, and I whirled around and sat down. e The blonde lady came up and said that I had made a capital hit, e and the other two said that I was Scertain to combine grace with mus Scular effort when I got fairly start *ed. s I did'nt feel much like starting - out again, but I had to do it. a Reglet helped me up again said Ithat he could already see an im Sprovement in my health, and warned me to shove my feet as I saw him I obeyed: The left foot shot out, leaving the right one some rods in the rear, andin yig to even up the race a little- something struck e the ice. T, I was myself. The bac1k of my head struck first, and there were five distinct shocks before the whole of my body got down. Reglet sailed up, and said he never saw that beaten, and the blonde declared her belief that I was an old skater; and just playing off on them. The rink danced round and round as I sat up, and the small boy who came grinning at me appeard to my vision like eight or uine smell boys, and eight or nine grins. "Come, old boy, this exercise will brighten your cheek until your own wife won't know you," called Reglet, offering to help me up. . I wanted to go home, and sit down behind the coal stove and pon der and reflect, but he dragged me to my feet, and "the blonde wanted to know if I woild't please to give them the Prince of Wales flourish." I glanced at her and tried to smile, and they all edged off to give me a fair show. "Come, dert right off !" yelled Reglet, and I carefully started my feet out on * an exploring voyage. They hadn't traveled over six inches before they got ahead of my bQdy, I reached out for something to sup port me, clawed around, and the back of my head dug a hole in the ice. I thought the roof of the rink had fallen in, and that twenty-eight tons of boards and shingles had struck me in a heap; but I was deceived, "You struck an air bubble, or F.on'd have made a splendid show," 'aid Reglet, as he pulled at me. The blonde said that I had come within a hair's breadth of cutting one of the grandest flourishes known on ice, and they wanted me to try once more. I told 'em I hadgot tog6 to a funeral, and that I would be back in a half an hour, but it was no use. "See how easy it is," exclaimed Reglet, as he pushed out and swung one leg around. I pushed out and swung one leg. I couldf't pul itback. I tried to, and I yelled to Reglet - that I'd give him fitfy dollars to grab m,. He was too late. I clawed, and waved, and tottered, and fell and when I came to my senses again, Reglet said if I would go though the same performance every day for two months, he'd warrant -me that I could eat a hundred hot biscuits per day, and never have a touch of the dyspepsia. I am in bed yet, and a friend has written this from dictation. The doctor says that two ribs on the left side are fractured, the collar bone is broken, the bone of the el bow smashed, and the spinalecolumn is three inches out of true ; but he is laboring away in hopes of mend ing me up by spring. T&uow Du-s.--Seventy years ago, when gas and kerosene were not and wax candles were an extrava gance indulged in only on state oc casions, even by the wealthy, the tallow dip was an article of necessi ty, and "candle-dip-day" was as cer tain of occurrence as Christmas, though, perhaps, even less welcome than the equally certain annual Fast Day. Fancy an immense kitch en with before-mentioned fireplace in the center of one side. Over the blaze of back log and forestick, and something like half a cord of "eight-foot wood" are swinging the iron cranes laden with great kettles of melting tallow. On the opposite side of the kitchen two long poles about two feet apart, are supported at their extremities upon- the seats of chairs. Besides the poles are other great kettles containing melted tallow poured on the top of hot water. Across the poles are the slender candle rods, from which depend ranks upon ranks of candle wicks made of tow, for cotton-wicks is a later inven tion. Little by little by endlessly repeating the slow process of dip. ping into the kettles of melted tallow and hanging them to cool, the wicks take on their proper coating of tallow. To make the candle as large as possible was the aim, for the more tallow the bright er the light. When done, the ranks of candles still depending from the rods, were hung in the sunniest spots of a sunny garret to bleach. The animosities are mortal, but the humanities live forever. WHAT THEY SEE AT CHURCH. It was after the evening services. Mrs. Coonton and the three Misses Coonton had arrived at home. They sat listlessly around the room with their things on. Mr. Coonton was lying on the lounge asleep. It had been undoubtedly an impressive sermon as the ladies were silent, busy with their thoughts. "Emmeline," said Mrs. Coonton, suddenly addressing her eldest, "did you see Mrs. Parker when she oame in ?" "Yes, ma," replied Emmeline. "She didn't have that hat on last Sunday, did she ?" "No," said Emmeline, "it is her old hat I noticed it the moment she came down the aisle and says to Sarah 'what on earth possesses Mrs. Parker to wear such a hat as that ' " "Such a great prancing feather on such a little hat looked awful ridic ulous. I thought I should laugh right out when I saw it," observed Sarah. "I don't think it looked any worse than Mary Schuyler's, with that flaring red bow at the back," said Amelia. "I don't see what Mrs. Schuyler can be thinking of to dress Mary out like that," said Mrs Coon ton, with a sigh, "Mary must be older than Sarah, and yet she dress es as if she were a mere child." "She's nearly a year older than I am," asserted Sarah. "Did you see how the widow Marshall was tucked out ?" inter rupted Emmeline. "She was as gay as a peacock. Mercy, what airs that woman .puts on. I would like have as=TI14?hen she's going to bring back that pan of flour." And Emmeline tittered maliciously. "She's shining around old Me Masters, they say," mentioned Ame lia. "01 d MeMasters !" ejaculated Mrs. Coonton. "Why, he's old enough to be her father." "What- difference do you suppose that makes to her ?" sggested Em meline. "She'd marry Mathuselah. But I'd pity him if he gets her.. She's a perfect wild cat." "Say, Em., who was that gentle man with Ellen Byxby ?" inquired Amelia. "That's so !" chimed in Sarah, with spirit, "who was he ?" "What gentleman ?" asked Mrs. Coonton.. "Why I don't know who it was," exclaimed Emmeline. "They came in during the prayer. He was a tall fellow, with light hair and chin whiskers." "It couldn't have been her cousin John, from Brooklyn," suggested Mrs. Coonton. "Cousin, no," said Sarah, pettish ly. "He is short and has brown hair. This gentleman is a stranger here. I wonder where she picked him up." "She seems to keep very close to him," said Amelia, "but she needn't be soared. No one will take him unless they are pretty hard pushed. He looks as soft as a squash. Did you see him tumble up his hair with his fingers ? I wonder what that big ring cost-two cents ?" and the speaker tittered. "Well I'm glad if she got com pany," said Mrs. Coonton, kindly. "She's made efforts enough to get some one, goodness knows." "I should say she had," coincided Emnmeline. "She's got on one of them Victoria haits, I see. If I had a drunken father, I'd keep in doors, I think, and not be parading my self in public." Just then there was a movement on the lounge, and the ladies began to take off their things. - "Hello, folks," said Mr. Coonton, rising up and rubbing his eyes. "Is church out ?" "Yes," said Mrs. Coonton with a yawn, which communicated itself to her daughters. "Did you have a good sermon ?" "Pret-ty good," accompanied by another good yawn all round. "See many good clothes ?" was the next query. "I suppose you think, Mr. Coon ton, that that is all your wife and daughters go to church for, to look at peoples clothes," said Mrs. Coon ton, tartly. "That's just like pa," said Emme line, with a toss of the head. "He is always slurring church people." P sloped to bed. [Danbury News. KNIFE AND FORK FLIRTA TIONS. To drop your knife.means, "I am badly bored." To eat with your knife means, "I am not posted." To drop your fork means, "I am desperately in love." To wipe your knife on the table. cloth means, "all right." To stir your coffee with a fork means, "How sweet you are." To eat your soup with a fGrk ifeans, "You are very beautiful." To whet your knife on your fork means, "You see I am sharp." To cut your mouth with a knife means, 'I am very impatient." To pick your teeth with a fork means, "I am the pick of the lot." To wipe your nose on a napkin means, "I am making a fool of my sel" To drum on your plate with your knife and fork means, 'i am almost crazy." To scratch your head with a fork means, "I itch for an acquaint ance with you." To dip your own knife into the butter means, "I.am not very par ticular, you see." To let your knife slip and splat ter the gravy oat of your plate means, "I am exceedingly happy to be here." To draw the knife half way down your throat means, "I am enjoying myself very well, I thank you." -. ~. STUDMWIN- NITU=A -PHLoOPHY. Old Keyser found Cooley's boy standing in a very suspicious man ner under his best apple tree, with a stick in his hand, and a certain bulgy appearance about his pock ets. Having secured him famly by the collar, Keyser shook him up a bit, and then asked hin, sternly, what he was doing there. "Ain't a doin' nothin'," said Coo ley, "I'came over yer to study." ":That's entirely too thin," ex claimed Keyser. "Yes, Idid ; I came over yer to study about Sir Isaac. We had it in our lesson. He was in an or chard and saw an apple fall, and that made him invent the 'traction of gravitation; and I come yer to see if it was so." "It won't do, sonny," said Keyser. "You're too enthusiastic about Sir Isaac ; and, besides, what were you going to do with that stick?" "With this stick ? This yer stick? What waslIgoin' to do with this stick ? Why, a boy gave me 'this stick to hold for him while he went on an errand for his aunt." "And where did that appie-core come from there on the ground ?" "That apple-core ? That one ly ing there ? The birds is awful on apples this season. I saw a .black bird drop that there, an' I says to myself, themx birds are just ruinin' Mr. IKeyser apples.". Too MUCH RIsK.-"Come on now, Ned," cried a New York girl Long Branch the other day to a stripling lover at her side, "we've got clear. of' papa-now lets take a dive." "Your father is an awful big and stout man. ain't he ?" observed the youth. "Oh, never mind that," exclaim ed the Miss petulantly; "lets take a swim, just see the great waves." "Don't you think it dangerous ?" anxiously inquired the lover, gaz ing up and down the beach. "Dangerous? No ! There isn't hardly any under-tow at this point; it's "Oh, but it.isn't the under-tow I'm afraid of;" interrupted the young man. "Isn't it ?" "No, it's your father's toe !" And she couldn't get him to risk it.- Chicago Evening Journal. The supreme self indulgence is to submit to the will of. a spiritu al director. Pride sleeps in a golden crown ; contentment in a cotton night-cap. A moment's thought is passion's passing knell. ADVERTISINC RATES. Advertisements inserted at the rate of $1.00 per square-one inch-for first insertion, and 75c. for each subsequent insertion, Double column advertisements tenper cent on abo% e. Notices of meetings, obituaries and tributes of respect, same rates per square as ordinry advertisements. Special notices in local. column 15 cents perline. Advertisements not marked with the num ber of insertions will be kept in till forbid and charged accordingly. ~ Special contracts made with large adver tisers, with liberal deductions on above rates. JWD ParomriVe Done with Neatness and Dispatch. Terms Cash. NEARER TO GOD. As I look out of my window this beautiful spring morning and view the glittering landscape, and listen to the sweet songs of birds, my heart is drawn to the Giver of these precious good gifts. The melan choly moaning of the wind around my window seems to awaken new aspirations in my heart. The coo ing of the dove teaches me to give thanks to Him who has so kindly watched over me during the slum bering moments of the night. We need but look in the open book of nature to learn the lesson of trust in God. Our heavenly Father has enriched our earthly home with all of these excellencies of beauty, that all should speak to us of Him. Oh! that we could think of God as often as He gives us something to remind us of His care over us; ithen He would be in our thoughts and actions; andourconversation would be the theme of salvation. Could we but realize that all the suffer ings, trials, head-aches, heart-aches, pains, and fevers of this woe-strick en world-come from the fact that men will not choose God's ways, but forsake the fountains of living water and hew for themselves bro ken cisterns, that can hold no wa ter'. When will the world learn that deep, lasting, and abiding happi ness is tobe found only in Jesus ? In vain do men strive for happiness who have not washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. This sensitive body in which the soul lives, which we so unceasingly care for, must soon be food for crawling worms. But where shall this deathless soul fmd *ts habitation when this earthly house is dissolved? This is the great question that has ever crowd ed into the mind of man, "If he die shall he live again ?" The prob lem is too dark for human reason to solve. The book of divine revelation alone teaches us that when this earthly house of the soul is dissolved, we may have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. That we may be admitted into that heavenly land, it should be our chief concern to .prepare for the great destiny of the future. Oh! the cheerful, trusting child of Jesus, who has learned to trust an infinite Helper. He has two homes-one on earth, and one in heaven. While the season of work and duty lasts he is willing to labor ; but when old age has crept upon him he lens tremblingly upon his staff and hails with delight the time when Jesus shall loose the fettered chains that have so long bound him to the earth. Cheer up, desponding, fainting .Christain ; live near the cross of Christ. A few more prayers, a few more tears, and our bodies ~shall, rest in the green valley, while our spirits shall bask in the sunlight of God's eternal day. [Religious Telescope. WAsHINGTON'S HORsES.--Accord ing to G. W. P. Custis' recollee tions, the grooming of Washing ton's white horses was something surprising. The night before the horses were expected to be ridden they were covered entirely all over with a paste, of which whit ing was the principal component part; then the animal was swathed in bod'y clothes, and left to sleep on clean straw. In the morning the composition had become hard, was well rubbed in, and curried and brushed, which process gave to the coats a beautiful glossy and satin like appearance. The hoofs were then blackened and polish ed, the mouths washed, teeth picked and cleaned, and the leop ard-skin housings being properly adjusted, the white chargers were led out for service AS'KING HIM.-"Hallo, 6trangeri you appear to be traveling?" "Yes, I always travel when I'm on a journey." "1 think I have seen . you somewhere." "Very likely. I've often been there." "Mightn't -- -- - L. O...4L Qfl L!U,~11 ~4.