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I ADVERTISING lATES. I PULSDand 75 cents for each subsequent Ps8erton IS PUBLISH-D.IDouble column advertisements ten per Cent. - -> on above. RVERY THURSDAY MORNING, UN U 2YTURDA ORIN,Notices of meetings,obitnariesandtrbutu IW of respect, same rates per square as ordinaay At Newberry, 8. .e Special Notices in Local column 15ecent BY THO81p per hine. - ~ber of inserdiong will tie kept fa tilorbid. Editor and Proprietor. rmss$L.0 oper te wtl, - A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets &c -* Intaiably in Adnaoe.A OTN per Is st at the expirationof DONE WITH NEATNESS AND DISPATCR Terktes.praton ofb VOL. XVIII. NEWBERRY, S. C., THURSDAY, IAY 18, 1882. No. 20. TERMS CASH. tription. THE CHANGE. Out of the long white dresses And into the dainty frocks, Little blue shoes with buttons In the place of the worsted socks; No ionger a helpless baby, Carried in arms ali day, But a restless, mischievous fellow, Brimming with frolic and play. Oetting himself into troubles That seemingly have no end, Tearing "big holes" in his dresses For patient mamma to mend! Bumping his curly round noddle Which mamma's softkisses must cure; And meeting a hundred misfortunes Which babies must learn to endure. Too soon shall I lose my baby. And-do the best I can To welcome the magical power Which ehanges the boy to man! Oh! that the years were slower In rolling the months away, and would that for many a season My baby a child might stay! I woderow his dearer As only a babe on my breast? Or changed to this roguish fellow Whose feet are never at rest! Is a rosebud any the sweeter More 'tis a full-grown rose? a Ah! the love that is born with the baby Must grow as the baby grows! ?tltdtb .tm HONOR'8 DEIION. -0 It was a pretty and picturesqu sight that met Belton Black gaze as he paused among th clustering birches of wood. Nor Leigh was seated on the gram with one rosy child on her lap two or three others scattere< arotnd, her fair cheeks crimsonec and the braids of bronze browi hair shining beneath the cottag bonnet that she wore. She lool ed up radiantly as her lover shadow fell across the angle ferns of the woodland glade. "Belton, is it you ? she cried. 'Send the children away, sai he, impatiently, -I want to tal to you.' *They will not disturb us.' 'They will disturb me.' A look' of pain came over Hot ora's sweet, submissive face. 'Charley,' said she to the eldee lad, 'take Katie and Nell to wher the blackberries grow. Johnn can carry the baskets, and se how may berries you can pic before I1 come.' Charley obeyed without word ; but the defiant glanc whieh he bent on Mr. Black froi bnth his knitted brows showe siut,o of things. 'I hate that man !' he said 1 Katie. 'Oh, Charley!l' cried out th innocent child, 'that is ver wicked.' 'I can't help it,' replied Charli 'He's cross, and he scolds Nort and I hate him!l' in the meantime Belton Blac had sea..ed himself on the grai beside Honora Leigh, and throw one arm carelessly around b< waist. -Nora-,' said he, 'I've made 1 V my mind.' 'As to what?7' She looked up fondly into h dark, handsome Castilian face. 'As to the propriety of our beit married next month. Jenning says I am to have a partnershi and 1 see my way clear at one I've spoken to the agent about tl little house in C- street, at 'Oh, Belton, do you think t h the house will be large enough interrupted Honora, with a troc bled face. E'Large enough for what ?' 'For the children. There m -four of them, you know, and-' 'No,' said Mr. Black, abrupt 1I don't think that it will be lar enough-I didr/t mean that should. You surely cannoti tend to burden our househc with your aunt's four childrei They are nothing to me, and i.h should be nothing to you. I da say I can find some excellenti stitution where-' fox 'I promised 'my aunt, on, l in ar dying bed, that the childr and should never lack a mother's car pressr said Honora, who had grown Ve in it pl. rs. S Madyou have kept your wor broke in Black, impatiently. 'I two yearc. you have fed, clotf and supported them out of yi slender earnings. It is all n+ sense to keep up this sort thing any longer. The boys big enough to work ; the girls easily be provided for in an orpt asylum.' 'Ob, Belton -never !' 'Just as you please,' said 1 Black, his face growing ar hi as adamant. 'But remember c thing, Nora-you must choose tween them and your lover 1' Honora uttered a sobbing cry 'Belton, Belton 1' wailed s 'how can you be so hard?' '1 am only sensible and pra< cal.' 'They are so little, so helph Oh, I cannot turn them over the cruel mercies of the wor pleaded Honora. 'That must be for you to cide.' She sat for a minu'e looking the tiny child-figures that flitl about on the edge of the wo listening to their innocent !an ter; then she looked up into e face. 'I have decided,' said she. cannot leave the children.' Belton Black's brow grew di as night. 'Very well,' said he, rising his feet ; 'you are aware wb'at tl e implies? s 'Yes,' in a low, tremulous voi a 'And you are willing to ab: a byit? I 'Yes.' 'Good-by, then,' extending d cold hand. 'Good- by, Belton.' " And her eyes followed b e with a vague, fascinated gaze he strode out of the green gik s and was lost to view. d 'Have 1 done right ?' she asL herself, with a sharp pain at t heart, and then, as little Nei d came up, crying out, 'Nora, Nlo k me got a fo,rn in my finger I' a holding up the tiny digit, w tear-stained cheeks, she caul the child in her arms and sobi k out, 'God help me! Yes, I hi done right for these little oi it have no one but me.' e So Honora Leigh went back Y her life of patient drudgery a e ceaseless toil once more. And 1 k rich gentleman on the first fic who saw her go in and out w a her little music-roll, asked1 :e landlady who she was. n~ 'It's Miss Leigh, sir,' said d woman ; 'a daily governess, a e one of the sweetest, most a denying young ladies, as e o gave up her life for the benefit others.' e 'Humph!I' said the rich gen y man. 'There are not many si in the world.' e- 'No, sir ; indeed there's n< L said Mrs. Moore. How the rich gentleman on k first floor became acquainted ia m the daily governess-how 0 children began to run in and er of his room, and ask him to them marvelous stories of Am P c-a, from whence he came how at last pretty Nora w back to America with him as 15 wife, would make too long a r tal in detail. Suffice it to say t g such was the fact. s 'God bless the little ones!I' '" Bonfield said ; 'there's room; e. to spare for them in my ho be And, to my thinking, there's asweeter sound shout the he than children's voices.' at ?, And if anything could b u-made Nora love her husband a dearly than she had done befor would have been these word re his. And the years went by, and y, little children grew up into he ge and beauty, and Nora, in her it ins, had almost forgotten the n. straits of her early girlh Id when one day the past wai a called to her by a most unexpe ey accident. re i'If you please, Mrs. Bonfi in- said the cook, one day, 'Tim there's a poor family -set er down in the old cottage by en gates, as is almost starvin'. 'S -e says I to Tim, 'why don't yoc ry the misens ?' Says he, 'Wha would I bebotherin' her, and1 d ' no: hin' to her ?' Savs L, or 'hand of her was never closed agin ed the sick and the poor, and I'll >ur tell her, Tim; if you don't.'' n. 'You are right, Mary,' said Mrs. of Bonfield. -I will go this evening ire and inquire into the case.' an And with Charley carrying a an basket in which was piled a good ly supply of jelly, wine, home made bread and hot-house grapes, fr. Nara walked to the ruined cot 6rd tage at dusk, ne Alas for the squalor and poverty be. of the wretched place I A candle burning on the hearth, a gaunt form outstretched on a heap of be, straw, with fever-glowing cheek and eyes rolling restlessly in their ti- sunken sockets, while by the door sat a faded woman, rocking a as. child to and fro in her lap. to 'I hope we're not intruding, Id,' ma'am,' said she,with something of a lady's courtesy and accent ; 'but de- my husband could go no further. We are on our way to Omaha, at where he thought he could get ed employment.' )d, 'You are quite welcome to stay h- here,' said Mrs. Bonfield, gently; his 'and I will send you some things from the house to make you 'I more comfortable. Your hus band's name is-' rk 'Black, ma'am-Belton Black. We've had bad luck, and we to thought perhaps we might do iat better here,' sighed the woman. 'But I heartily wish we had stay ce. ed in England.'. de Nora Bonfield's heart beat vio lently as she advanced a pace or two toward the wretched heap of a straw where the yellow flicker of the candle faintly illuminated a face which she would scarcely have im recognized-the face of Bolt,on as Black. ,de He died the next day, and never knew that the eyes of his old ed sweetheart had rested pityingly er upon him in his last hour. And lie the simple headstone that was ra, reared over his remains in the nd cemetery was placed there through ith Honora Bonfield's charity. ,ve 9 ies Fos TEa HEALLD. to NEW YORK FASHIONS. ,nd - ,he Dots and Spots-Vee- Beautieas-Gloves and Shoes-Short Dresses-How to ake or, aamra ith heA controversy arises as to where dots should end and be replacod t,e y spots. Great spots an inch in udiameter are fashionable on dress ilgoods, ribbons, kerchiefs, etc., but er because cir~cular in form have been of called dots. Such name is indig. Snantly repudiated by persons oi 'exact thought,' but they fail to ch draw a line and tell us just where , we stand, if perchance, we should have invested in a dotted oi spotted dress. I leave you, there the fore, dear readers, to decide for th yourselves, remarking only thai hdots begin from the very smnal out set very close and run in grada tell tions till swallowed up by very md large spots set far.apart. They nare self colored, or in contrasts, ent and what has been said regard hsing size, holds good in all classei e-of material; not excepting the hat white mnuslins which robe divin ities in . summer. Sprigged inns &r- lins too abound, and here also are nd sprigs and sprays both large an< me small. no VEILED BEAUTIES. 'Veiing is the leading mnateria where a thin dress that does no ave need washing is desired. Varioul ore names are given-'Nun'e Veiling, e,it 'Voile Orientale,' 'drape Virginie, s of and such like, but for the mos part are distinctions.without muel the difference, so for convenience sak' ith we call them all 'Veilings'. Grena sat- dines, buntings, etC., have givel lore way before them. They come il >od, all colors and while the dark ar ?5r chosen for morning wear, or b :ted elderly people, the young anid ga; will attend hotel hops attiredi ld,' white or light colored veiling says where the chosen ornamentatio tin' is embroidery wrought in th the piece, either self-colored or in coi ire,' trast. Pretty outfits, too, will b tell of veiling, made as polonaises c for overdresses with silk or sati ,bey skirts, and here many a tastefi The. combination can be hennu-ht. ahn For mourning, also, what more comfortable than a dress of black veiling, soft, light and durable. Summer Louisines are in old time checks and ribbons for trimming vil the bonnet are to match. Chine wi silks likewise are very stylish but to higher priced because in heavier pe quality. BOARDING SCHOOL MISSES cic are already sending in orders for pa supplies of black stockings, slip- th pors and gloves to be worn with TI their white graduating dresses. to There is just that flavor in this de last eccentricity of fashion which al captivates the average boarding ce school heart, but it is not confined th to these young creatures. In in truth they do but imitate their 80 I elders since by fashionists of all ur degrees, a rush is made not only ve for black, but dark colored stock- eto ings, with kid or satin slippers fe and gloves to match. Plain hosiery Bc leads, although there are some sh few stripes and checks. Further- 02 more, too, the quite short, summer th costumes will afford ample oppor- pi tunity for a display of these sing- it, ularly clothed feet, and such cir- so cumstance while rejoicing the Li hearts of many a coquettish young th beauty, strikes with dismay the Oa p3rtly dowagers who have lost th their symmetry, while, perhaps, oa retaining, a full share of by-gone th coquetry. The must needs be ns somewhat unfashionable for the st picture would, otherwise, prove a too ludicrous. Fashion has, for w the time, forgotten them, and fo they, in return, must forget or ig lit nore the claims of fashion, for it m grows more and more apparent O that short costumes are in an overwhelming ascendency. Those re who dare will wear them shorter c< than has hitherto been allowable, or and those who dare not must do fo as best they can. Quite impor. a, tant will be the summer sash, in for the present is essentially a re season of. ribbons. Don't, how- m ever, tie your sash around your waist, but drape it below in any pr way you choose for all ways are ga right. Sc HOW TO MAKE G Summer costumes is so knotty a e question that an endeaver to ex- hi plain would be to confuse. So much is permitted and we have so a great variety. In this perplexity ul I refer you to the illustrations in St Lord & Taylor's Spring Catalogiue U where yon will see everything doe- ly sirable depicted to you. Besides, is there is on all topics of interest, ai not only illustrations but well fe written fashion articles tolling si you so much indeed, that in com- ti parison my letters may seem but sr improfitable. Having rolled away pi this burden of care there is room w to say a word or two as to acces- Z sories. it has been predicted that ai owing to the great popularity of jabots, fichus, etc., they would 'go ti out' -this summer. On the con- te trary, we find they have not the tr least idea of 'going,' unless it be a that they are going to otay. tl But here, too, the shapings and St twistings of lace and kindred ma- f t.rials by skilled hands defies de- di ecription, so I will again refer you to the above mentioned illustra- a: tions ; taking up, instead, the sim- i; pier topic of kerchiefs, which, in fi large sizes rise to the dignity of te small shawls. Take a square of b almost any thing from twenty- p, four inches to a yard ; finish with Si a hem, hem-stitch, embroidery, lace, etc., fold it about your neckA in any way that pleases and you1 Iare fashionable. Mull is much used and bobinet lace as well ; then there are silken nets, white or black, plain or embroidered ; Spanish net, white or black, whiler surah silk is in regular kerchiefs,r - bespread with dots or spots, I(whichever name may please you,) Sor you can buy the silk and make a up a kerchief for yourself. trim 'ming with lace if you like. All a r these materials can be made into I 3 scarfs or bought ready made. 5 s LUCY CARTER. c 8 Don't be anxious until you are compelled to be ; many a man 0 worries about a ghost that never i r appears. 1 Old injuries are seldom canceled 1 E. by naer henefits. FOR THE HERALD. ICIENTIFIC BlISCELLAN Y. A. careful examination has con iced a French chemist thal ieat normally contains coppe the extent of eight to ten parti r million. Colladon long ago noticed in lentally that obstructions in thi th of a sound decidedly lesser 9 intensity of the vibrations iese 'sound shadows' are knowr be much more distinct in i nse medium like water than it Prof. John LeConte has re ntly given results of some far er experiments on the subject wbich he took advantage o: me dynamite blasts being madi der water. He immeraed i rtical pile, about a foot in diam er, at a distance of about fort' )t from the explosive cartridge ttles and ~ glass tubes wer ivered by the concussion of thi :plosions when placed outsidi e geometrical shadow of thi le, but piotected when withii The sharp definition o theaa und shadows has led Prol 3Conte into an exposition of th, eory of the effects. Like shad Ps of light, the distinctness c e sound shadow should depen shortness of ware-length, an< e sudden detonation of dy mite must generate a ver ort and intense wave, makin; very sharply-defined shadoi benever an obstacle is met. I lows that less sudden soundr re the explosion of gun-powde, ust produce less definite shad Vs. Prof. Fairchild thinks there ar asons for believing that th rnmon house fly, with its num ous lenses, capable of change c cus like the human eye, ca !oid the diffluities we encounte microscopes, and may distinctl, cognize objects only a twent3 illionth of an inch in diametei A peculiar and newly observe -operty of tin is being invest ited by a Moscow Scientisi me tin cans kept in one of th cvernment buildings during th >d weather showed blisters, the )les, and finally fell to powder. Prof. Foote, of Philadelphia, h group of quartz crystals mea -ing about four feet by three i perficial area. A group in t~ niversity of Naples weighs neal half a ton. A crystal at Mila three and a quarter feet lon id five and a halt in circun rence, and weighs 870 pounde ~d another crystal, at Paris, ree feet in diameter and th me in length, weighing 80 >unds. Fifty tons of crystal ere discovered in one cavity nken, more than a century ag< id were sold for 8300,000. Dr. Wollastons's observatic at certain sounds are inaudibi many ears was recently illo ated by Prof. Tyndall. Durn lecture he blew a small whistl< ie low, shrill note of which it antly agitated the sensitiv me, while full half of the a' ence failed to hear the sound. Insects, caterpillars and larva se not destroyed-as is often b< aved-by intense cold or heav osts. After an exposure to imperature of eleven degrei low zero the common cate: liar has revived on the return < ifficient warmth. The path of destruction merican tornadoes has average 085 feet in width, according 1 argeant Finley. The storm cloc oves at the rate of twelve xty miles an hour, while tt ind within the vortex sometim< saches the tremendous velocit f 800 miles an hour-392 mili eing the average. In concluding a course of le res upon the 'Ancient War nd the Appearance of Mar 'rof. Boyd Dawkins said tbat udy of the past had shown th ontinued struggles with natu ad developed man's poiwers un e had reached his present co ition ; and .it was his belief th a coming ages man would be el ated as far above the level lture of to-day as we are a sned from the state of savage f t he primeval man. The theoretic work obtained t from the consumption of an- ounce C of various substances is thus t stated by Prof. Sylvanus Thomp- s son: One ounce of hydrogen C gives 2,925,000 foot pounds; of s 3 coal, 695,000 foot pounds ; zinc, s 113,000 foot pounds; gunpowder, . 100,000 foot pounds; and copper, 5 69,000 foot pounds. b A French journal recommends a fire test for determining the quali- a ty of seeds. Samples are placed one i at a time upon live coils. If the t i combustion is slow and quiet, it b . may be safely decided that the a . seed contained a diseased germ ; g , but if the seed turns and leaps r about, producing a dry sound, it may be inferred to have good ger. a i minative qualities. The good qual. . ity of larger seeds, such as acorns n r and chestnuts, will be indicated by a detonation of the seed soon after a being thrown into the fire. 3 The frog, toad, salamander, B newt, etc., are found to secrete 3 speeial poisons. From the glands 2 on the neck of a frog M. Paul I 9 Bert has obtained a liquid which caused the death of a sparrow to B which it was administered. A transparant leather, said to posess great strength, is now made in Germany by a new pro cess. P CAST ON A DESOLATE ISLAND. V t The Sufferings for ifteen Months of the Ship. wrecked Crew of a Whaler on Eeard's Island. - John Esmond, second officer of the whaling bark Trinity, of Ne% e London, the crew of which were e recently taken off Heard's island - in the South Indian ocean, after-a 'f sojourn of fifteen months, tells a n story that vies with that of Rob r inson Crusoe. The bark Trinity, Y Captain John Williams, left New & London in Jnne, 1880, with a "- crew of sixteen hands. At Cape d de Verde islands nineteen Portu i guese negroes were shipped. 'On 5. September 4,' said Esmond, 'we e arrived at the uninhabited island e of desolation and landed three n months' provisions. On Septem ber 23, we sailed toward Heard's ,s island, and arrived there October . 2. It is the custom of whalers to a call at Heard's island to kill sea e elephants. The island is 280 miles .. southeast of Kerguelen's Land. n It is thirty miles long and from g three to ten miles wide, with a ~. volcanic group of mountains in ;the center about 6,000 feet high. s It is covered nearly all over with e snovv and ice, the glacier reach 0 ing down to the water. We land Is ed two white men and t wo negroes ~with provisions enough for three ~months and left them to kill sea elephants, and the bark then pro. Sceeded ro.und toward the southeast e end of the island where it was ~proposed to land another party. gThe sea, however, was too high, and no boats could be landed. She ~lay at anchor here till October e16, when at midnight a heavy storm burst upon her, and at 10:40 o'clock on the 17th the ship egrounded about fifty yards from the beach. From this day, Octo ber 17, 1880, until the rescue, on aJanuary 23, 1882, the seamen alived on this uninhabited island without any communication with the outer world. All of the crew got ashore safe and sound except seven negroes, who were frost bitten. We hauled ashore also d about two months' provisions.' 0 On the first night of their so d journ the ship floated away, tak 0ing with her six months' provi e sions, and they had nothing to e depend on but the resourc'es of the y island and the few provisions 3 saved. There grew a kind of wild cabbage on the island in c. plenty, and this, with the flesh of Id the sea elephants and sea leop ,' ards, formed their chief suste a nance. There was plenty of fresh at water. The party lived in four re shanties made of wood, stones and il sod. One was built on the south n- east side of the island and used as at a lookout. The weat was al le- ways cold. It w low the of freezing point when 1ey landed, d- and summer brought no change of ry any consequence. During the months ot'June, July and .Anuust HENRY WARD BEECRER'S FAR . Mark Twain has writtea.otiMr. t Beecher's old .farm on the Hudsor r river as follows: Mr. Beecher's farm consists of thir ty-six acres, and is carried on on strict scientific principles. He never pots in any .part of a crop without con salting his book. He plows, and reaps, and digs, and sows according to the best authorities, and the-aathc rities cost more than the other farm ing implements do. As soon as the_ library is complete the farm willbe gin to be a profitable investment.3But book.farming has its drawbacks. Up-y op one occasion, when it seemed morally certain that the hty, :ought to be cut, the hay-book could not be found, and before it was foun4 it was too late, and the hay was all 'poiled. Mr. Beecher ,raises some.of the-finest crops of wheat in the country, but the: unfavorable difference betweens the cost of producing it and its mai value after it is produced has inter' fered considerably with its sucess as a commercial enterprise. His special weakness is hogs, however. He con siders hogs the best game a' farm pro duces. He buys the original piglor ; $1.50, and feeds him $40 worth of corn, and then sells him for about $9. This is the only crop he ever makes money on. He loses on the corn, but =. he makes $7.50 on the hog. He does not mind this, -because he never ex-,:; pects to make anything on corn. And, nay way it turns out, he has the ei citement of raising the hog, whether he gets the worth of him or not. His : strawberries would be a comfortable success if the robins would eat trni ips, but they won't and hence the difficulty. One. of Mr. Beecher's most harras sing difficulties in his .farming opera tion comes of the close resemblance of different sorts of seeds and plats to each other. Two years agobhis far sightedness warned him that there was going to a great 'scareity of watermelons, and therefore he put in a crop of twenty-seven acres of that fruit. But when they came up' they - turned - out to 'be pump kins, and a dead loss was the eon sequence. Sometimes a portion of the c crop goes into the ground the most - promising sweet potatoes, and oothes up carrots. When he bought his - farm he found one egg in every ren's - l nest on the place. He said that here r was just the reason that somnauyfar -mere failed; they scattered their foroes too much ; concentration was the idea. - So he gathered .those eggs together, e and put them all under one experienced old hen. *That hen roostedMyer that contract night -and day 'for eleven ' a weeks, under the anxious personal .of Mr. Beecher himself, but she could I not "phase" those eggs. Why? Because - they were those infamous porcelain t things which are used by ingenious i and fraudulent farmers as "nest - , eggs." But perhaps Mr. Beecher's k most disastrous experience was the . time he- tried to' raise an immnense crop of dried apples. He planted e $1,500 worth', but never one of them ? -sprouted. He has never been able to I understand to this day what was the r matter with those apples. I Mr. Beecher's farm -is not a triumph. It would be easier on him B if he worked it on shares with some one; but he cannot find anybody who is willing to stand half the expense, i and not many that are able. Still, a persistence in any cause is bound toi i succeed. He was a very inferior far. Smer when he first began,bht apro. alonged and unfiinchinog assault upon r his agricultural diffculties has had its' e effect at last, and he is now fast rising from affluence to poverty. e Contentment abides with truth, and you will generally suffer for wish t ing to appear more than you are, Swhether it be richer, or greater, or Y more learned. The mask soon -be ecomes an instrument of torture. The best people need affictions for Strial of their virtue. How can we e exercise the grace of contentment if . Sall things succeed well; or that oet Sforgiveness, if we have no enemies? , :k When we quarrel with ourselves.w~ are sure to be the losers. to Man is an embodied paradox, a to bundle of contradictions. vsa miles of candles a day. hey only bad about three hours f daylight in the twenty four, bough occasionally the moon hone very brightly. The only ccupation of the men besides leep was to patrol the beach in earch of food. They had accumulated about 00 barrels of oil when rescued, ut they left it all on the island. 'hey bad blankets with them, nd beds were made from the Bathers of the sea hens which hey caught. -Their own clothes ad to last them all the time they 7ere there, but they made boots, loves, mittens, etc., out of the kins of the sea animals. They vere entirely without tobacco, nd this the seamen seemed to egard the worst ill of all. Es iond made a sun dial on the roof f his shanty. A correct reckon 3g of the days and months was :ept by marks on a board. Jan ary 18, 1881, two men were rowned. In November of the awe year the penguins began to ay eggs, which they were enabled o obtain for food and enjoyed reatly. At times the volcanc rightened them by slight erup ions. They were unable to reacb he four men on the other end of he island on account of impassa >le ice-fields until December last, t may be supposed that it was t welcome sieht when, on the 12tf >f January,1882, the United Statef iteamer Marion hove in sight Ehe seamen stood on the rocki ind waved their blankets till al ast they were -seen. On the 13tt )f last January the men wer4 aken on board and the Marior steamed for Clinton bay, eightear ailes distant, where the four mer )reviously spoken of were en amped. Tbese, too, were taker )n board, and the whole part3 were clothed in navy costume When the Marion reached Capi rown the American consul tool barge of. the shipwrecked sea en. They sailed for Southamp kon, England, and then for thi, :ountry. 'Memory is a woncrful thing, aid Jack Miller to his friend Dai Watts. 'Just think of what a fel ow's head can hold ! It's gigantic ir-gigantic!' Watts-1 have of. en heard your friends say you have i iery fine memory, Jack.' Mille 'fattered)-'Well, that's very kind Tes, I have a pretty good memory. Watts-'Do you think you can re sal the ten dollars I lent you thre ears ago ?' A lecturer was once in a dilemui which he will probably never forget While talking about art he venture ~he assertion. 'Art can never im arove nature.' And at that momen ome one in the audience cried out it a gruff voice, 'Can't he ? Well, therz how do you think you would- lool without your wig ?' Little Edith was terribly sleepy th ther night. She began her custou iry prayer upon retiring, hut whei he got as far as 'Our Father,' he iyes closed and her head tumbled oi o the pillow. 'I tan't tay it to ight,' she said, 'I'm too s'eepy. H knows the yest of it.' Alarm : 'Dear, dear !' exolaimes Mirs. Brown, 'I have just been over ti see Clara. Poor child ? She is dyini af ennui.' 'Why, how you talk !' re plied Mrs. Homespun ; then adding a she moved farther away from he isitor, 'mercy ! 't aint cetchin', i 'Man and wife are all one, ar they ?' said she. 'Yes j what of it said he suspiciously, 'Why, in the case,' said his wife, 'I came home ai fully tipsy last night and feel terribl ashamed of myself thtirmarning.' E never said a worid. The man who sells for~ quartsi the gallon is the best produfl of ti Christian religion extant, and wi walk boldly through the gate of Para dise while the man who prays at ti street corner is trying in vain to pit the lock. Never forget that it is your duty laugh whenever you find anything laugh at. 'A good laugh,' so s; Charles Lamb, 'is woath a hundre groan in any state of the market.'