Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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TH E H ERA LD Avertisements inserted.a the rate of - $1.00 per square (one inch) for first insertion, andI 75 cents for eatch subsequent insertion. 16 PirEISHED le ecolumn advertisements ten pJer enzt. iG PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING, .-Notices of meetings, obituaries and tribut s At Newberry, S. C. Special Notices in Local column 15 cen S BY THOS, F, GRENEKER,tloil"a;a"a!,"lni" Editor a rpretr Special with Isrge adver. Editr an Prprieor.tisers, with liberal deductions on a bove rates. Terms $2.00 per .1nnumi, Invariably in Advance. A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agricultue, Markets, &c. C-'he r is stopped at the expirtiATNESS AND DISPATCH. timeo..r whic it is paid. VAo wW DNESDAY MORNTNG, JULY 3, 1878. No. 27. TERMS CASH. [r7 The >4 mark denotes expiration of sub W D EA 10h criptionk. .iscellaneous. Wiliamston Femate College, WILLIAMSTON, S. C., Is approachsg the close of a most pleasant and prosperous wssion. The ONE-STUDY PLAN, which is one of its principal pecu liarities, gives constantly increasing satis faction. Each pupil, having only one lead ing stdy at a time, can give this study such attention as to secure much better success thav is possible when the mind is occupied by several subjects at once. Willianiston is a summer resort for in valids in search of health. The CHALYBE ATE -SPRING, a short distance foi the ColRege,.has greatly benefited many of our pupils, who, coming to us in delicate health, have returned home strengthened in body and mind. Unusual attention is given to physinal exercise. By the habitual practice of light calisthenic movements and the careful use af the HEALTH-LIFT every d4y, the evils of sedentary life are greatly mitigated, if .not entirely overcome. For other attractive features of this LIVE UP-COUNTRY SCHOOL FOR GIRLS, apply for a Catalogue to REV. S. LANDER, A.lo PRESIDENT. may7-I. The Vonder of the Age! DXCIDE.DLY AHEAD OF ALL OTHER PREPARATIONS IS DAVENPORT'S PROCESS FOR PRESERV ING NEA1M VEGRTM, FRUITS &c. IT IS CHEAPER AND SIMPLER Than Any Other Process Known. No &aling of Cans' or Botlei Requir&! And is Recommended by alI Prominent Ph=sicians Having purchased the right foi.this won. derful process, and having tested it thor, eghly we confidently recommend it, Family and individual rgi4s for sale by * DR. S. F. Ngad Apr. 17', 16--tf. Newberry, S. C. U can make monuyfs* at work for us than at anythin .Capital not required; we will str'on- 12 per day atthome made by teindustrious. Men, women, boys and-girls pvanted every where to work for us. o is. the tir4e. \oty outfit and termsfr Ahress TRUE JCo., Augusta, Maine. . -- DURNAS' JELEBITED "MIIENA" XANUFACTUEED AT GLEN COVE, NEW YORK, Ts one of the most delightful PREPARA :TIONS FOR FOOD in the world. Recomn .ended by the high~est medical authorities 'n both hemispheres, an& receiving the first mnedals and di lomias at all the great inter national exhbitions. DURYEAS' *4ING~L9SSTARC~H '~IT.HE EEST IN THE ORLD. se it once and you will use no other. It received the highest international awards. DURYEAS' For the use of Confectioner's, Brewers, Pre servers of Frits, Wine-Makers, etc. Unequaled for purity and excellence. .Fur nisbhriqantities to suit, and shipped to all pa,rts of the world. Samples sent free of charge. A ddress WM. DUJRYEA, Gen. Agt., 29 PARK PLACE, NEW YORK. May 22, 21-tf. MORE OF TIIOSE FOR THE LITTLE ONES. Come and get one at once. -At the HElRAiL BOOK STORE. Jan. 30, 5-tf. NOTICE. The undersigned respectfully informs the public that he has now in charge and for sale, a stock of DRUGS AI,CO FANCY ARTICLES, SUChI'ES are usually kept in a Drug Store, to whichi he respectfally invites attention. Prescriptions carefully compounded at all hours of the day -and night. Can be found on Pratt Street, near Public Square. April 22, 17 tf D S. POPE, M.D. W. HI. WALLACE, Attorney-at-Law, NEWBRRYS C Oct. 25, 43-tf. TO MAKE MONET Pleasantly and fast, agents should ad dress FINEY, HAREY&C. ONLY A PANSY BLOSSOM. BY EBEN E. REXFORD. Only a pansy blossom A faded, withered thing But I would not give it to you For all the flowers of spring; For it brings me back the June time Of a summer that is fled, The fairest and sunniest summer Of all the summers dead The dear, sweet summers dead. There is something strange ebont it, For out of its faded heart, As 1 look at this poor, dead blossom, I see a fair face start A face like a sweet, wild flower, And the tears will dim my eyes, Is it under the churchyard.grasses, .Or abloom in Paradise? For me, in Paradise? It is only the ghost of a flower That I gatired at her feet, But the love has never faded That made the summeir sweet. Only a pan3y blossom, But it bri4gs Uer bapk tp pe: And I fe,el 4er eyes uppn me, Her ten4er f9ce to spe All sweet with loye to me! [From Uie Spartanburg Herald.] (ILENN SPRING9 DI9GOVERED; THE LOST AMULE1. -C PART III. In tho 4.;-rness of the night, I was aroused from a most FefreQh ing sleep by the stealthy touch of Canachugh, "arise my son," said he, "the moon has hid her face, the light of .ll the lodges are out, and it is time for us to bp .n our journey." Robing me, and lifting me up as easily and tender ly as an infant, he placed me on a little pony standing at the door of his- lodge, and we stole away while all th0 village was in a pro found slumber. We .ont*nqed the journey silently and stealthily along a beaten trail which seemed to be well known to Canachugh, without noise or incident, except the bowling of d#olves, which made night hideous.daI- Chua ugh, they excited no alarm. ~pon my asking him what they were, he simply -replied. Wolf! Muskogee ! Coward ! As the sur, was rising, we were ascending a high hill and when we reached the top, there bapt upon our view one of t'ae most beautiful and sub lime prospects which I had ever seen. A;-.ay off in the north, the blue tcp of the distant mountains gleamed on the sun, being yet covered here and there with snow, and in the foreground there loom ed up a "Towering cliff whose awful form," Rose midway the sky to meet thae storm. We involuntarily stopped, and gazed upon the scene, with admni ration und delight. As we de scended the hill we came to a bub bling spring, at its base, and then for the first time since we left the village, we rested. Little Chotie, on which I rode, was a wonderful pack horse. After helping me off, and carrying me down npon the young grass, Canachugh commenced iinloa~ding Chotie, firkt came buffalo robes, then deer skin sacks, then imple ments of cooking and soforths un til he had almost deposited a car load. From one of the many sacks he brought out a bamn of dried veMisn, -and from anothe-, some dried corn, and rapidly kind ling a fire with two flints and some rotten wood, called spunck, we soon had a most savory and refrehing meal. Before letting me eat, however, he brought some water from the spring in a cup made from a large green leaf, ~croupled up to hold it, and draw igfrom a pouch a white looking powder- dropped a little of it in th impirovised cup, (ank which h(continued to repeat before.sach mel) until we arrived at our- des tinaition, and bade me drink. With the most implicit reliance1I quaffed it dlown. After our breakfast, ~anaibugh made me down a pallet f buffalo robes, and I was soon Ias!eep'\ When I awoke, the sun was high up in the heavens, and *1Canachgh said: v Iy pale face son sleeps well, e can now continue our jour Loading up Cnotie again, and plac'pg me pon hipbroa'back wet tbe Ine of a acf, Canacbugh in the front, and Chotie and I conveniently behind. As we .y'talong I notited that the little streams we crossed were running in an opposite direction from those at the fort, and I knew that we had crossed the water shed of two important streams, and I asked Canachugh what river was before us, and he said the Saluta, which I recognized as the Saluda of the Provincial maps. In the afterpoon we reached this beautiful stream, and % e rested again, and for the nig~ht , op its banks. Upon our arrival, Cana chugh arrangedme . he bad'don'e in the morning, turning out Ohatie to nip the succulent grass, upon its banks. Canach'ugh, then took up his bow and qaiver, and went down the stream a little distance to a broad and shallow shoal and .opn Pame back with two of the most be utiful fish j ever ggw they were about eiahteen inches long and weighing sveral pounds. With the skill of an accomplished cook they wereisoon broiling 'ap on the coals. and sending >ut the the most delicious and appetising odor. Drawingu from Tiisa pouch, , white compact substance, which proved to b, th. d.ed breast of the wild turkey, for bread, we made our evening meal. After we had eaten I could not resist be curiosity to go with Cana. chugh t. tho spoals, there he had taken the fish, and there I saw schools of thousands, gamboling and sporting in the limpid water pid gleaming sunsbide. Cana uhugb informe.4 ipp ibat at this season q the year, the fish pan up the large streams and their tributaries for spawning, and at the falling of the leaves the little fry went down )6 until t4e next spawn ( seasop With his bow ad.ar e s'eV n b for our morning 16a,nh fe turned to our camp. The day was acogn.terpart of the rt of our journey. The country tfrough which we passed was beautifully undulating. The In iaus for observations, were in the abit of br,rning og the leaves and but li ttle undergrowth survived these periodical fires, but in its place, there was a. wilderness of perennial grasses. Irl siAs succu lent pasture, tha wild buck and his doe would flit across the path with impunity, as it was not the season for killing, them. Then we would come across magnificent flock of wild turkeys, indigenous alone to this new world. Then gain, we would see roving before us or on our right or left, immense erds of buffaloes. The mredicine man informed me that this region of country, stretching down to the Congaree was a , hunting ground for the Cherokee's, Ca. tawba's and t4e Muskogee's, I asked how if it was not also the battle ground of these tribes and he told me that some of the fiercest and the most sanginuary battles had-accurred here... On the -asening ofeth'ifourthi day, we arrived upon the banks of one of the most beautiful streams whbich we had yet crossed. As fgr up Aod down as w.e could see it was festooned with clam~ber *ing vines, and as it"i&oied and frolicked and danced over a series of beautiful cascades, and as the spray which was thrown up, glistened in the rays of the droop ing sun, I thought I had nevei seen anything so beautiful, and raising my hands with speechless admiration and delight, Canachugi exclaimed, "thie =Enoree." and re lapsed into a reverie which I di( not understand, and from which] dared not arouse him; and whici lasted until we arrived at our des tinaion. Late in the evening o the succeeding day; after crossing the Booree, our trail led us acr~os8 other water courses until we ar rived at another water shed, an< here upon a commanding emi nence, from which could be seei miles and miles of uhdulating hille stretching off towards the souti and east with the beautiful blu tops of the distant mountain bordering the northern view, wa t he lodge of Canachngh the area medicine man of the Cherokees. It had been previously an exten ve village, but as the Indians had gradually gone westward, only one lodge was habitable and that as the lodge of Canachugh. Upon our arrival ourivade mecum, little Chotie, was unpacked, the lodge somewhat repaired, and our plun der stowed away, and then Cana chugh led me down the hill to the spring, which bubbled up at its base and bade me drink. Rising up from my recumbent position, he bade me drink again. He then unbound my inflamed and fester ing woupd, and bathed it with the Pool And sparkling *4ter. Ue then scooped up from the little branch which ran from the spring, a dark colored and sulphurous odored deposit, and bound it upon niy wound. IIe then bade me drink agaii, and we started to the lodge at the top of the hill. From the water which I had drunk, or the exertion which I had made in reaching the hill top, a most pro. ,, persp ti n en-4-d and i felt that my malady had 0given way. The medicine man watched the progress of my cure, with the most intense interest and satis faction. Day by day, the same curative agency was empO'ed, and day by day, my health and vigpp was being restored. It was npp long until my health permitted me to go with Canachugh upon hunt ing expeditions and to assist him in planting and cultivating a small parcel of ground,.(which bad been -cleared at some former time) in maiz.e, a kind of corn only known to the Indians, and pumpkins and squgsbps, This patch afforded us abundant vegetables 4nd the fish and -itd-gWjjne sVppMt uis meat. In one of our huntin exe r sions, bio-a 1 o It some few miles east of the medjcif e-a ing, afhere ther$ W'fL a vein of quartz rock, protruding through the slate on the side of the hill with t/ragments spattered along the course of the vein, and upon breaking some of these we picked out some particles of pure gold which seemed to be abun dant, bqt which would requirp more .machinery than we could improvise to extract ft. But it satisfiell me as to the source of the many trinke~ts and ornaments of gold1 which adorned the dusky maidens and warriors ofi the tribe. Thus our time quietly and peacefully ~glided away. Cana chugh would often tell me of marvelous Indiam exploits, and 1 in my turn -would recount to him the. splendors and more peaceful pursuits of civilized life. It w-as, however, a mystery to me, that he never referred to his own his tory, and I would not press an inquiry which he seemed to avoid.1 As the Autumn was closing and that beautiful season k'nown in the province, as the Indian sum mer, was approaching, and as my health bad become thoroughly, and completely restored, even from the madgie I had in herited f rony inf 4nthtr the watchful 'care of Cad6huY b'er me, was not so necessary, and he imparted to nub his intention to go backg to i,bo frontier of .his people to learn their fate. Ac cordingly Chotie was again brought into requisition, and he turned his face to the west. Bid ding me an affectionate farewell, and promising to return by the full of the''mop, which was just visible in crescent shape in the west. The time of his absence hung 9eavily upon my bands. I was in the midst of a most profound and im pressive solitude. I did not know but that I was -gheconly human being in bie vataf'etnsive territory. We had seen no one else since we arrived! I longed for the full of the moon, and watched its every phase. About the time it was to occur, I took my bow and arrow; having by this time become expert in its ,use, and followed its trail to the west hoping.,to. meet zng friend i and father at the Thiorce, the only s crosainge pigee.aW ben j got W9 the river he was not there, and hi eng tired .an d, fatigned . 1 iSd down on a beautiful tuft of grass under a spreading tree, near the ford of the river, and fell fast asleep. How long I slept I did not know, but I was awakened by the sharp crack of a rifle, and the falling of a heavy body almost di rectly upon me, and was startled to see a full grown American lion, or panther, the terror of these I woods. As soon as I saw the danger through which I had pass ed, I inew my deliverer could on ly be Canachugh, and I saw him approaching me trembling with i emotion. As he came he said: fgThere lo danger when the pale e face sleeps." . d Of course I was overjoyed to o see him. b In a rapid way be narrated to t me the news which be had gath- ii ered. War was then raging be- s tween the whites and the Chero- a kees, and the latter had been driven c far towardt the west. We then turned up the alream. gathepipg ps we went the luscious t fruit hangiog firom the luxuriant I vines. Canachugh stopped and a murmured, Endree! Enoree! in 1 the tenderest and most plaintive c tones. "The vines~ which you I see,"- said he, "now banging with r brown and purple fruit was once I the deligt of my life. Many years ago I had atodge upon this beautiful stream. My wife who I was then alive, and my little1a daughter whom I named Enoree, a the muscadine, were living with r me. My wife sicl0enedand died, I. c moved wiLh my little Enoree back r upon the hills, where my lodge t now is. She grew up to be as c agile and' as graceful 4s the fawn, c and as juscious and as sweet i -s the full ripe muscadine.1 ,Iy happiness was again re- a stored. I had found a secret' y for health in the medicine spring t which had restore4 ip tP you. a Ahotly after 1 had found tLe a spring, I accidentally discovered i that by boiling down the weee a deposit was left. It was a white I powder. I tasted it, and it tasted ( like the water, I tried it and it a acted like a charm, I had foundt the life of the water. With my y tribe J became a grent medicine 1 man. In .all cases of sickness, ( among my people, the medicine of I Canachugh was a specific." But," said be, "I will take you r to my old lodge near by, and- will i relate to yog that portion of my t history, which *1 have referred e even to you." (To BE coNTINUED.) IHOME CON VERsATION.-Children hunger perpetually for new ideas. They will learn with pleasur'e from the lips of parents what they deem it drudgery to study in1 books; and even if they have the misfortune 'to be deprived of many educational advantages, they wvill grow up intelligent if they enjoy in childhood the privi lege of listening daily to the con versation of inteTtgant people. We smetimes see parents who arc the life, of every company whieb they enter, dull, silent, and unin teiesting at home among their children. If they have not men tal activity and mental stores1 sufcient for both, let them first use ihat they have for their own households, A silent* home is a dull place for young people, a place from which they will escape if they can. How much useful in formation, on the other band, is often given in pleasant family conversation, and what uncon scious, but excellent, mental train ing in lively social argument. Cultivate to the utmost the graces of conversation. "Phlirtation--Phairest Phlora!? billed an amorotis youth, "phor ever dismiss your phears, and phly with one whose phervent phancy is phixed on you alone. Phriends, phamily, pbather-phor get them, and think only of the phelicity of the phuture ! Phew phellows are so phastidious as your Pherdinand, so pheign not phondness if you pheel it not. Phorego phrolic, and answer pbi nally, Phlora." -"Oh, Ph-erdinand, ~ou phool," she cooed. Be diligent in business-. ZIIZdtUi5. FoR THE HERALD. [IROADBRIM'S PARIS LET TER. NO. 7. :xhibit of the Bibliotheque BUre Bo4ks-An cient Manuscripts - Sights About the Grounds--French Funerals, etc., etc. Close to the main ball, on the torthwest end of the Exposition uilding and immediately adjoining he Britiab Department, is a rare xhibition of statuary by the mo ern artists of France, but it is not f this that Inow propose to speak; ut of a little exhibit in a room on he left, of rare and exceptional mer . Thousands daily pass it by; no tatues mounted on proud pedestals ttract them; no splendid pictures hallenge their admirAtion ; tgr 3 not-iqg here but a few books, nuscripts and medals; "only his and nothing more." Yet, in hese low and unpretending cases, re priceless treasures, richer than luto's mine ; not treasures of silver r gold ; not jewels nor costly array, ut rare books and curious old aanuscripts, whose histories gq >ack away ipt $he yry tvyilight of ime. The mere pleasure-seeker and ,nd sight seer haa better pass on tis way, for this exhibition has no ttraction for him; but it is sacred s Mecca to the scholar and the aan of letters. This is the exhibit >f the French Bibliotheque and of aanuscripts, some of them so old hat we have ng authentic history If the people by whomq t4ey werp riginplly written ; they are Egyp ian, Assyrian, Greek, Persian, Lrabic and Hebrew. Before me is contract for a piece of land, 7ritten five hundred years kpfgor he birth of Christ, every charapter s bright and as elegj as if cut by n engraver's tool. The cases are n11 of rare reprits of works, hoice specimens of that art which ta made immortal the names of futtenberg and Faust. Right roy 1ly here, an ancient TheIen bears estimony to the virtues of his de >arted wife ; and yet, when this toary manuscript was indited, ueen Esther was pleading for the ife of hier-people before the Great .ing Ahasherus. Hear the -dead nan speakg after"a a1tpse of more han thirty centuries, and listen to he testimony with which he has mbalmed in immortality the gentle nemory of this fair Theban wife. 'She was comely to look upon," says he chronicler, "and of temper sc tweet and placid that in all her life :never saw it ruffled.. She waE dnd and charitable and loving, and >f life so pure and holy that the reath of suspicion or scandal never ssailed her." Three thousand years ave passed since this grand testimo iy of virtue andlove was written, thE 'ace to which she belonged has beet Lnihilated and blotted out ; thE lands of the desert roll like at rgry sea over the proudest of its mperial cities, yet surviving the listory of its magnates and kings s this ishining tablet to the virtues f a Theban wife whose holy life if hs immortalized, but whose namt ifortunately is lost to posterity orever. Near by is a will writter bout the time that Hiram was pre aring the stones which were used n the temple of Solomon. ThE ~haracters are Greek and the oldesi mown to literature. It was madE n the island of Cyprus befor< Eomer had written the Illiad, and while philosophy was yet a strange] o the sacred groves of the acade ly ; not only houses- and lands fel o the lot of this dainty cypreol lame, but stores of jewels and gold what might have furnished an outfii or the Queen of Sheba. The books are th,e rarest and noblest speci ens of the printer's art; all th< psare bright and clear, and th( ype as sharp and clean as if it had een cut with a diamond ; but mudl is we might feel inclined to lingea ver this interesting collection, we re compelled to hurry on, for therE are other cases in this room whici aontain treasures as priceless as thE books. Here, in a brief space, France haE enshrined her immortal dead, and here4 he ha preserved in gold and silver and bronze the heads of thos4 who, through all past time, hav< built up her greatness and hei glory. The memory of her em perors and her kings receives n( .more gracious tribute than that ac corded to her philosophers and schelars, and the men whose hu. manity and self-sacrifice have earned an enduring immortality. Ludovi cus Magnus is near to the gentlE Melanchton, and the little Corsican captain, who rose to imperial powei and died at last a cAptive and in exile, 1jea quitaly beside Pascal, from whose bed of agony came forth the noblest and sublimest philosophy of France. In this grand collection is much of good and evil though it is evident that revolution, however deeply seated in national heart, finds but a scanty recognition with those who are charged to perpetuate her history. The head 9f Voltaire is here, the Inan who sowed the first seeds of the Revolution, and close to him Jean Jacques Rousseau, hard, cyni cal and cold, whose works to-day are found in all the shops, and whose effigy in the national gallery is second only to that of the great Emperor himself, but febo wen ol the Mountejr are nowhere to b geen, nor Marat, nor Robespierre; nor Barrere, but the noble head that fell upon the Place de la Con. corde, on the identical spot nows marked by the great Egyptiai obelisk, is here enshrined in shining gold one of the noblest and kind liest faces to be found in the entir collection. Next to him ig thE beautiful and hwnghty face of hi Quee% Maria Antoinette, and closE to her the lovely Princess Lam balle. Richelieu's medal bears only his coat of arms, but the massivE head of Mazarin perpetuates the memory of cpe of the alest and mosi wily statesmen known to the'history of France. There are three bronzE medals in hopor of Lonis-le-Grand one taken when an infant, anothel at the age of fifteen, and the third after having attained the zenith o: his glory, he foud his powe crurnbling into ruin ; the riva beauties who ruled his king don and his heart have not been deemei worthy of remiembeance, but ii their places, are Michel de l'Hos pital, Lavoisier, Gay-Lussac and Bernard de Palissy the potter. As if in mockery, beside,her ungrate fu.l son, is the unfortunate Maria de Medicis, who died in exile fron France, and near her the head o the imperial Catherine, for.whios< pleasure was laid out that beautifn walk, which skirts the bank of th< Seine to the Tuileries. Parmen tier, the benefactor who introducei the potato' into France, has no been considered unworthy of a place even in this distinguishec company, but shares with Buffon Corneille and Racine, a portion o the national homage. Three face: lie side by side recalling the saddes of all sad history, they are the head of the Emperor Napoleoi crowned with laurel, and the head: of his two queens Josephine and MIaria Louise ; beyond is a meda struck in honor of the baptism o the king of Rome, and still furthe: oni the Grand Seal with which 4h sixteenth Loais stamped the abro gation of his kingly power, in fron of the Ecole Militaire. All th< coins of France are here as bright and. as shining as when they wer< Idropped from the -mint, and I knox of no place in the entire Exhibitio2 where the scholar can pass a mor< profitable hour than in the Exhibi of the French Bibliotheque. The sight~ about the grounds oi these early summer days is parti cularly bright and interesting ; min gled with the gay crowds of -pleas ure seekers, are dashing Greeks ix all the glory of their national cos tume, turbaned' Turks, hoodei Bedonins, fresh from the sands o the desert ; filthy Tunisians ani bare legged vagabonds -from M.o rocco. I have ceased .to wonder a Late that the Bey of Tunis is a savag< and a brute ; how any mortal mar could listen to their detestabbi music and still retain any portiox of haman charity is far beyond m.) ken. 'Why if one were born ir possession of all the eight beatitudes this infernal. discord would soo1 drive him to 'the commission of th< een dadly sins. I profess t< have as much of the milk of human kindness in my composition as usually falls to the lot of men even in the days of niy thoughtless youth; I never suspended a tin kettle to a dog's tail, nor assisted in shoeing the cat with walnut shells; all the ordinary pastimes of intelligent adolescence, such as sprinkling red pepper in public meetings, and firing brickbats tbrough the windows of unoccupied houses, were ever to me a sealed book; but I solemnly deelare if to day 1 -were the Bey of Tunis, that I would sentence one half of my subjects to the block, and the other half to the bowstring or the sack. All Tunisian fiddlers should be ut terly destroyed from the face of the earth and the fellows who played on tambourines slaughtered with out mercy. By the way, the carp ing critics who, in London and New York, fud fault with Irish fn nerals, if they wish to experience a new sensation let them come to Paris. If there is anything which exceeds the eclat of.a Frenchman's birth, it is the glory of his death ; he comes into the world in a cor rueation and goes- out of it in a blaze of fireworks. The hearse is about fifteen feet high and. all cov ered with waving plumes; the dri vers of the carriages are all in knee breeches and cocked hats and every man can of them looks ready to cry. By an ingenious fiction known only to the French the- humblest man be furnished with a coat of arms, and a scavenger or boot black, when he has paid the last debt of nature, can be carried to his grave, crowned witlhthe family honors. There is one custom.here that I particularly like and that'is, sometimes when a gentleman meets a lady, he seizes her around the waist and hisses her on both cheeks. I shall cultivate French acquaintances at once ; *' am going to try my hand at that the very first opportunity. Up to present writing I have not had.a chance, bict hoping to report pro gress inmy next, Iam, Truly yours, BROADBRIM. A DEMORALIZED EDITOR. An editor was sitting 'in his easy chair, bonyant in mind and heart, with the calm serenity and blissful tranquility that none 1ett b6 editors know. A shuffling, sound at the door brought him back to eartb, and facing nervously about, he beheld a man of deep, deter mined look, closing the.:door be hind him. With a sickly feeling of foreboding, the editorImotioned toward .a chair, and gisdupon the intruder, helpless and breath less, resigned to meet the woist. The band of the 'man wandered ftoward his breast pocket. The editor's ch,ek blanched and .his b lips turned blue. Alas ! alas! he bad guessed aright the dread a mission of the stranger. * The man pulled out a bundle of I letters 'and papers. The head of I the .editor fell forward upon his f breast, and the hands dropped L listless from the.arms of his.ehair. "My errand is not a p4 sant one," said .the. visitor', speaking a slowly. "Thbank heaven !" exclaimed the editor, plucking up courage. "Out 3 -with- it-suspense is worse than ' fate." "I have an execution on your a home," continued the man, with Sprofessional sadness. "The mort gage .has been foreclosed," i"Hoora! ha! ha!" roared the editor, springing up and nearly - shaking the man'sarm off. "Heaven -be praised ! but what a sesre you did give me! Blister my corns if .'I didn't think you had a chunk of - spring poetry. Drive on-~sell the E old shanty-it's a rat eaten bar racks anyway, and rents are taken off my mind! Let's have yo name, and down it goes for two6 years .free subscription.. You're an angel iis breeelies,=old fellow, but you-don't look it, darndif you do. Ha ! ha! Cut your hair, man ; cut. your hair, and wear a stand-up collar. It'll save your children sorrow." Wit makes it easy to grow old, > but not impossible.