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ARATES. Advertisements inserted attherteC ISnd 75 cents for each subsequent inserti - ont above.4 lVERY THURSDAY MORNING Notices ofmeetings,obituariesandtribu dlvertisements. At Newberry, S. C. Seial Notices in Localoinmn 15 cent Editor and Proprietor. s , thde u it s arn a ver Terb$s, $2.00 per .Innnum,Ato.OEPI IW . van 'A Famil Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News,Agriculture, Markets, &c Invariably in Advance,.Wf TUe paper is stopped at the expiration of DONE-'ITH_NEAT_ESS_AND_DISPATCH Teor maric ntsa e iVol. XVI . NEWBERRY, S. C., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1882. No. 44. TERMS CASH. :!-The X mark denotes expiration of sub cri9tion. .. A STORY OF SCHOOL. BY WILL]I B. HART. The red light abone through the open door, From the round declining sun; And fantastic shadows all about On the dusty floor were thrown, As the facory clock told the hour of five, And the school was almost done. The mingled ham of the busy town, Bose faint from her lower plain; And we saw the steeple over the trees, K With its motionless, golden vane; And heard the cattle's musical low; And the rustle of standing grain. In the open casement a lingering bee Murmured a drowsy tune; And from the uplandjmeadows, a song, In the lulls of the afternoon, Had come on the air that wandered by, Laden with the seen ts of June. Our tasks were finished, and lessons said, And we sat all hushed and still, - Listening to catch the purl of the brook, And the whirl of the distant mill; And waiting the word of dismissal that yet Waited the master's will. * The master was old, and his form was bent, And serend and white his hair; But his heart was young, and there ever dwelt A ealm and kindly air, Like a halo over a pictured saint. On his face, marked deep with care. His eyes were closed, and his wrinkled b. ands Were folded over his vest, As wearily back in his old arm chair " He reclined as if to rest; And the golden, streaming sunlight fell On his brow, and down his breast. We waited in reverent silence long, And silence the master kept; Though still the accustomed saintly smile Overhis features crept; And we thought, worn with the lengthened - tol Of the summer's day, he slept. So we quietly rose and left our seats, And outward, into the sun, From the gathering shades of the dusty room, Stole silently, one by one; For we knew, by the distant striking clock, It was time the school was done. And left the master sleeping alone, Alone in his high backed chair; With his eyelids closed and his withered palms Folded, as if in prayer; And the mingled light and smile on his face And we knew not death was there! Xor knew that just as the clock struck five, His kindly soul away. A shadowy messenger silently bore From his trembling house of clay, To be a child with the saints of Heaven. And to dwell with Christ alway! sitefs tetrt. THAT ENGINEER. 'ow, George,' said mother, ?when you run into Chicago to. day, 1 don't- wa'nt you to forgit that lamb's-wool. Them atore keepers 'Il try to put yon off, and say they don't have nosuch goods on band this time o' year, but I want you to foller 'em up, and git it, for I want to go to knittin' yer socks for next winter. Therc's no thing so good for men's socks as fine, bard spun lamb's wool.' 'Not even yak, mother ?' asked George mischievously, as ho snatched up his hat and belong ings, as if the alarm of fire had been sounded.. 'I don't know nothin' about yak. That may do for wimmen's wear, but for men's, there's noth ing like hard-spun lamb's wool. 'I'll remember,'promised George, fully primed and charged. 'Now, good-bye. Home on.- time at nine.' The old woman's cheek had a flush like winter apples. George took a hasty nip at it-he always did when he started on his trips looked at her with his big, cherish. ing eyes, received a mother's un speakable reply, and dashed off to. his engine. It was a little after sunrise. -His boots rang along the pave' ment, and his whistle rang along the breeze. George was hand Some and strong. as twenty two hbas a right to be. He wore a blouse instead of a business coat ; and that great, fresh, downy rose -his face-would soon be coated with the locomotive's breath. But he was a wholesome, splendid man. Perhaps Jennie thought so. She was sweeping the front steps of her paternal mansion as he passed. Her hair was gathered -atop her head in a curly coil, ...m cinke of it jnst dropping over her forehead. The sleeves were pushed back from the pink, round arms for wonen, as well as men. when they go to work with a n ili, begin like a pugilbst. Jen nie had her morning complexion on. As her eye met George's, she put on an additional morning complexion. George touched bis hat, Jonny bent her bead shyly. The young man squared his shoulders and walked on like a brigadier-general. 'That's a nice girl,' he commu nicated to his sleeve. 'kotber thinks a heap of her. Sbe's got more sense than half of 'em, mo ther says. And she's smain, and modest like in her ways. Mother says she's uncommon pretty, too.' These opinions of mother's so edified him that he bad not gotten Jennie out of his head when he leaped on his ergine. But I sus pect, if mother's verdict had been against her, he would have stood her lawyer. He was only making mother compliment his choice. He was skulking behind mother! For some young men are shy. While he and his iron horse, and his row of baggage-cars and passenger coaches rushed across the land that hot day,- nobody looked in the engine-cab for ro mance; yet there the fire of the world was glowing under a dark blouse. Nobody looked into it for integrity and wortn ; yet there stood six feet of integrity and worth,. which had come up to manhood through thick and thin, and had carried .his mother to comfort, and which kept his char acter like his burnished engine. Neither did anybody look in the cab for heroism; but it was there, potent and still, like electricity in a cloud. Ah, my countrymen are caapble of some things? As for locomotive-engineers, I suppose there are men not of the best among them-as among parsons -but the deeds of some do speak for them. Now when one's mind has run in one channel for a length of time-or I might say, in more appropriate figure, when a train has gone over a great deal of road, some results are generally arrived at. So it came to pass, when George dashed up the street in Chicago after his mother's lamb's wool, while his .engine cooled, and the train was being made for the home trip, that he dived into a jewel ler's store, and asked sheepishly to see some rings. 'Rings, eh ?' murmured the salesman, looking amiably at the man of soot. For Chicago isn't afraid of coal-smoke. The men who bring her tbe dollars do not come in elaborate toilet. 'Rings,' emphasized George, 'and don't be afraid of your high-priced ones, with stones in 'em.' 'If I give her one,' in the paren thesis of his sleeve, 'I.want it to be a ring that'll last, and always be fine and handsome, and do to go down in the family, like mother's.' Diamnonds,emeralds,opals,pearls, were flashed in his face, but still his fingers went searching. 'What's this ?' he asked, picking up a small, strong circle, with amethysts sot around it. 'Looks like a grape, sort of, when the sun shines through it.' 'That ? oh, those are amethysts, Not as expensive as these jewels, but a very nice firm stone.' 'Th.is suits me,' observed George, diving for his wallet ; 'that is what I was looking for.' So he paid for it, and darted out to hail a passing horse-car, tuck ing that little morocco case under bills, away down out of sight, as another secret was tucked under his left breast-pocket. As he rushed back across the afternoon landscape, curbing his iron horse with this bit, giving him rein by another motion, mak ing the village resound, watching his read with a keen, tender eye, George's mind rose to no greater height than meditation on how he should give that ring to Jennie. 'i'll ask her to take a walk-no I won't. Don't want anybody to see me, I'll shake hands with her, and sort of slip it on her finger, and then cutli Hang me ! nolI won t nehe. L,e' ee. I'l go there a Snnday night and stand up to it, and have it out. If she'll have me, all right; if I ain't the man, I'll put it and my heart in my pocket, and reverse engine on the marryin' question.' And just at this crisis of thought he saw cause for rever sing the engine indeed. Some men are rash to villainy. Tbe conductor of a construction train, which cught to be lying on a switch a mile away, thought be could make the next switch be fore the Chicago Express came by. ao be tried it. He survived the disaster to telegraph his resig nation to the company nest hour, and go West.' George-hair flying back from his forehead-hands like lightning -eye and mouth set, reversed his engine, whistled the brakes down -the fireman ran back-the en gineer of the construction-train jumped-but George stood up to the alarm-signal till engine reared against engine, the baggage-car fell on a gravel-flat, and human yells went up out of the Express from mouths which were saved, but never a sound from the en gineer who had stood at his post and saved them-and now lay half under his dear old Number 8, wrecked with it. 'There's been an Accident,' cried Jennie, rushing into his mother's presence and causing the dear old lady to push her glasses quite into her hair. 'A telegram just came-' 'Not George ! 'The express ! oh, don't dear.l No one wel dangerously hurt but the engineer-it was a collision he saved the train, they say ! Oh, don't let it kill you !' 'Where's my bunnet ?' groped the old mother. 'Here's your bonnet and your shawl.' Jennie wrapped both this and her arms around George's mother. Those tender young touches brought her on Jennie's neck. 'Don't you leave me. It's agoing to kill me to see him lyin' under them wheels, All tore up ! The best son, and good and kind as an angel! Oh, how'll we git there ? Oh, who's agoing to take me to my son!' 'I will,' promised the young woman, breathless and white, 'a relief train is going up.' What they thought 811 that long time they rode, hanging to each other's hands-this childish woman, and womanly child, I know not. Do you think at all just before you open a black bordered letter. when some awfu1 charge threatens you? Do crim inals think when the noose is round their necks? We sozine times exist without living. It was warm summer dusk when the relief train slid slowly up to wreck. The pasenger coaches stood intact. Men were chopping at the engines and broken flats. The people who had swarmed for hours, and nearly killed *a man whom they were deermined to lionize, now par. tially hived themselves in the new train. 'Mother!l' breathed George, from his bed of coats, over which a sur geon stooped. The poor old woman spun wild ly round like a top, till Jennie righted and propellsd her to George. 'The lamb's-wool's in my pock et,' he whispered, with a merry twinkling in his suffering eyes. 'And mother, pull out my purse, and give the little case in the cor ner to Jennie. 'Opens it,' mo tioning her ear nearer his lip's. 'I bought that for you this afternoon, his voice just reached her, 'and I was going to offer it, and ask you to marry me. Take it now, and I don't ask any questions with it. ~No woman, would take up with a smashed affair like me.' 'Oh, George!' replied the a0 man, blazing out of all reserve, and piercing him through with her eyes of love. 'You splendid hero-darling I I'd rather marry you now than any other man alive And I'll work~ for you and youi mother too, George !' Upon which the engineer, witi - t the passion of a man whose whol life is drawn to a single poini gathered her face over one of bi shaking hands and made a ful rose of the mouth, which he kiss ed-kissed till the whitenes round his lips stole over his whol, face, and he fainted. Jennie sat still under the stare holding George's head, soothinp his mother, and thrilling at tb doctor's favorable verdict. Thougi her face was all streaked by bei sweetheart's fingers, she was feel. ing some kinship to the grea people of the earth through thal engineer. For a woman always values her self according to the quality of the man who loves her. And a king will make a queen, whether he be King of Spades, or King of Senates, or King of Engine-cabs, s5tttUanwus. Fon THE HERALD. LETTER FROM COLORADO. special Correspondence. PUEBLO, Cor,., Oct. 1?, 1882. The most unattractive place in all Colorado, of its size and im. portance, is Pueblo. It is not sc much the place itself, perhaps, ae that it is situated on these alkal plains and has nothing beautifu or attractive in its surroundings Yet the town is largely M exicar in its appearance, make up anc characteristics, and contains a mix ed population of Mexican herders Western hoodlums and enterpris ing business men. It does quite a trade with the country soutt and west of here, and at one time aspired to be the rival of Denver a the chief commercial point 'n the State, or of this region ; but these aspirations have apparently beer nipped in the bud. It hal con siderable of a boom last year, but that has subsided and the pros pects of this ever becoming one of the big places of the West dc not seem to me to be very fiat teriug. The water here is insuf ferably mean, and alkali duet tor mrents you in every direction and at all times. In striking contrast with Pueblo is Colorado Springs forty-five miles north of here on the road to Denver. it is the sn~ggest, prettiest and health jesl place in Colorado. No preten sions to commereial importance are made i,y iL, yem a .tair trade ii done with the country round while as a resort it goes far abea( of all others in this part of the world. Its hotels are full in th< summer of Eastern tourists and it the winter miners and ranchmer from the mountains fill them up One hotel keeper started in hern on a small scale four years ago entertaining guests at $1 per day Business prospered, so that ho hal just built a new $15,000 hotel an< is making all the money be wants Another big hotel costing $50,004 is being erected by a company o whom Gen. Palmer, of the Denve: & Rio Grande Railroad, is one Tbis same company owns th< stock of the El Paso Land an< Improvement Company and havy the most complete printing estab lishment in the State, from whicl is issued the Daily and Weekla Gazette. Among the new buildings erect ed at Colorado Springs this yea are a number of handsome bu modest residences. Shade tree are plenty in all the streets, an there is an air of comfort and neat ness about the place not foun< anywhere else in Colorado. Mar iton with its seven or eight mir oral springs, and the most fast ionable resort in the West, is onl; three miles distant'. A narros guage railroad between the tw points carries passengers over an back for twenty-flve cents, an does a lively business. Tbe-rei nothing of~ Maniton but its hotel and the springs. The hotels ar kept on the 'toney' plan, an charge a man four or five dollar for looking inside of themi. BL they are well patronized, in tb season, by a wealthy class< tourists who go tbere both for tb 'style' and on account of tb spring waters, which are equal I any in this country. The seaso there came near being cut n e sually short this year by a snow storm which occurred the last s week in August and lasted three days. About two hundred guests left Maniton at that time, some of s whom did not return. It is just at the foot of Pike's Peak, where 'snow storm.s occur every month in the year, and, of course, a squall will occasionally blow down the mountain, oven in midsummer. , Parties are climbing the peak from Manitou almost daily at this < season, but the same persons rarely t go more than once. It's a tough < climb, and one hack at it is 1 enough to last ordinary people a r life time. The Government signal t station at the top is about the lone- c somest looking spot I ever sa.. 1 d Though the most famous peak in v Colorado, and seen at the great- i est distance in all diretions, Pike's s is not the highest. Grey's Peak, t twelve miles above Georgetown, Ia is 200 feet higher-being 14,341 1 feet above sea level. Y In the vicinity of Colorado s Springs are some of the most in- y teresting features of 'Colorado t scenery. The 'Garden of the c Gods,' where immense red granite t stabs stand up on edge, some of t them over 350 feet high, is one of o the striking' evidences of the la great upheaval which has some t time taken place here ; and that t volcanic action has also taken n place is shown in the copper col oring of the rocks and by other e marks plainly visible everywhere. i Monument Park, a short distance f away, is another of the curiosities. 1 Covering an area of, perhaps, d fifteen or twenty acres is a series s of natural monuments of white I sandstone so soft that the ele- t ments have formed them into the i most fantastic shapes. Many of t them are about the size of a hu- e man being and many are much c larger. A strata of irdn on the t tops has protected them in that t direction and preserved their original height. How many thou sand years this work of the ele ments has been going on cannot be very accurately estimated, but it is one of the many natural won. ders of the world. And right here in Colorado, more than anywhere else I have ever been, we find on every hand unmistakable eviden ces that six thousand years does not, as once supposed, begin to E cover the period of the earth's existence. Not far from Mona ment Park is 'Glen Eyrie,' a pie turesque little glen with a stream running through it, in which Gen. Palmer, President of the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad, has a hand some summer residence. Speaking of railroads calls to mind the sharp 1 competition between the Denver& I Rio Grande and the new Den ver & New Orleans line. .The fare between Denver and Pueblo, I120 miles, has always been $10,I but under the stimulus of a lively tailroad war both lines have been rcarrying passengers all summer for $1. Of course this cannot be kept up always, but it is certainI that the old exorbitant rate wvill never be revived. The new road had a hard fight to get the right of way into Coiorado Springs, ow ing to the opposition of the other line which controls so much in terest there, but a favorable city council was recently elected and rwork on the Y into town is now Sgoing 'ahead. SPOT. SThe nomination: of the Hon. 1 .Thomas M. Waller as the Demo j cratic candidate for Governor of .Connecticul illustrates a.t once the .splendid possibilities and incen- I .tives presented the youth of this Scountry. Thirty years ago Mr. SWailer was a poor and uneducated a newsboy, earning his living on j the streets of New York City. A Lwealthy citizen of Connecticut saw that the boy was bright, took :him to Con necticut and gave him e a fair education. M-. WaIler now d stands at the head ofe New s Haven bar, and is recognized as t one of the most eloquent speakers e and untiring workers. He refers if with pride to his humble begin e ning, whilst his fellow-citizens are e proud of his upward career. n Poverty is in want of much; ,. bnt avarice of everything. WHAT BECOMES OF OLD PANo: -A London contemporary ask vbat becomes of old pianos ? I he wondering gentleman wil ome to the United States an troll through the streets of : ountry village on a warm Sum ner evening when all window re open be will hear an abundan mswer to his question. thougl vhether it will be satisfactor; lepends upon the enduring powei >f his ear. Pianos are manufac ared in such great number in thii ountry tbat there would seem t< e enough to give each family t ew one, but somehow the o< no survive, and one entirely oul f servive is hard to find as cad mule or a practical civil ser ice reformer. Stranger still, i1 3 impossible to find an old pianc o bad that some dealer will nol uy it and then find a purchasei tho will put the old thing intc is parlor instead of his wooc ard. It is upon such ancient in traments that thousands of the oung women of America 'prac ice' until they do not know bar, iony from discord, and unti heir neighbors thank heaver hat pianos are not to supply the iusic of the celestial future. Un 38 the stock of old pianos is it ime reduced, by some meant hat has not yet been indicated, ii ay become necessary for the reservation of human life anc anity to suppress these dreadfui struments by offering bountiei )r their destruction. A Statf rhich, like New York, pays thirty ollars to every person who de troys a full grown wolf, should e willing to pay at least as maub o a man who will utterly demol 3h an old piano, for one of thes( iixtures of rusty wire and crack d sounding board is more dis ordantly noisy and discomforting han a whole pack of wolves couli e.-New York Herald. THE POLITEST MAN HE EVEi IARD OF.-Several gentlemec rere talking about polite met bey had met, when an old Ger oan, named Fritz, said the po test man he ever heard of wai is uncle. 'What did your uncle do ?' ask d Gilbooly. 'Yell, you see, he was in i heep, and dot sheep strike ock, and go dat.vasser down. .Al he passengers vas dro'wning do 'asser in, and mine unCle too ihst pefore he got the vasse: town, mine uncle takes off hit tat, and say to de udder people ho was splashing dot yasser in ladies and schentlemens, I haf d< ionor to pid you good-pye,' anc e sunk ont of sight dot vassai Everybody present said Fritz'l nle was very courteous and po te, except Gilhooly, who remark d in his usual cynical manner: 'I don't think your uncle wai ~olite at all, Fritz. lie evidently ad no manners, for he shoul< ave waited until the other pas engers went down instead e rowding down ahead of them >articularly as there were ladiel n the crowd. He was a selfis] >rute, that's what he was. ( Texa.s Siftings. The man who has an empty cui nay pray and should pray thati nay be filled, hut he who has 'll cup ought to pray that hi night hold it firmly. It need >rayer'in prosperity that we ma; iave grace to use it, as truly asi eeds prayer in poverty, that w< nay have grace to bear it. Training the hand and the ey o do work well leads individual o form correct habits in othe -espects. Knife wounds heal. bat nc ~hose produced by a word. What sunshine is to fiower smiles are to humanity. Great truths are often saidi c,he fewest words. Perseverance is the best scho< for manly virtue. Never known to get tired-On tanding debt.s. CHARMING FASHIONS. 8' - f Latest Things in Shoshone Clothes at a Lara mie Emporium. The season at the Shoshone Ecipe rium, notwithstanding the backward ness of springs, opens up with many charming novelties in dress. Leaders in fashion are not confining them selves in any way to previous styles, but are aiming at startling changes r and entirely original ;designs. The Louis XV costume in buckskin, with muskrat edgings, will be a favorite among the older and more sedate squaws, and the loose traveling suits made of wagon covers. with a dash of axle grease and seal brown tar, will be much worn before it is discarded. A redingote of antiquated logcabin bed quilt and draped at the back with loops of foulard horse hair or faillie loops of rawhide lariat, will be in fs vor with old and swayback squaws who are in half mournrng. The blue cavalry overcoat- cape will be worn during the cooler even ings by giddy young squaws, with with such other gewgaws as their fancy may suggest. Middle-aged Shoshone matrons will also wear during the coming season for morn ing, a buffalo robe draped from the shoulders and held in place with iron picket pin. Afternoon costumes will be more dazzling, and will consist of a flour-sack bodice, fastened with me tallic pants buttons of the time of [eary VIII, and festooned with spat ter work of alkali mud and such other bric-a-brac as Indian taste may sug gest. Ball costumes will be as here tofore, very attenuated and very sparse. The infantry pants so commonly worn through the .day will be en changed for cavalry pants for kettle drams, and artillery pants for Sho shone hops. The trail will not be in - vogue this year, the nearest approach to it being the tablecloth costume, held in place with embossed safety pin. The_ more frolicsome belles, however, will wear blue mosquito bar sash at the waist, and gents British half hose. This will be the favorite evening costume. Novelties in jew . elry and ornaments of all kinds will be . in great favor. Necklaces of tin tobacco tags strung on copper wire will be quite common, and bears' claws alternating with the back teeth of amateur stockmen and strung on the E string of a violin will be woru a midday costtume. Crino. Iline is once more recognized among the ton of the Shoshone society, and the hoop-skirt will be adopted there as a croquet suit as soon as the weath er moderates a little, so that there will be no risk in wearing it. Older matrons still wear the bustle, and when .worn outside a pair of ar tillery pants it makes a unique and at tractive promenade costume. A daughter of Sore-Pyed-Pelican is making a large number of mashes this . Spring with a striped - corset which . she wears at all receptions and dress parties. A new caprice for morning wrap will be an imitation army over coat with door-mat drapery. This I will be worn too on picnic excursions, . in search of pitch-pine logs for the l morning fire. ,The hair will be worn plain in moat s cases, with bandoline of buffalo tallow and Oriental tar. The time-honored hair ornament of the tribe, oasisting of entomological specimens of the time of Queen Elizabeth, will be > shown on all occasions. Prudish old t maids, with no special attractions in a form of feature, have recently severely a criticized the costume -adopted, during B the present month, by a bevy of Sho I shone belles, which consists . of an t alpaca umbrella and a dash of red B paint. While the suit is, of course, open to adverse criticism, it displays the figure better, and is far less ex e pensive than the Jersey or pull-back s of the pale-face.-Bill 5ye. r Our characters are formed for good or evil from the company we keep. Confidence in our power to refrain from the vices of others too often in Sveigles us into the risk of mingling with associates we know to be our inferiors, both mentally and morally. n The daily influence of such company will blind us to what we know to be wrong. 'In life it -is difficult to say who do you the most inischief, enemies with t- the worst intentions, or friends with the best TrJE TABLES TURNED A LIT TLE. 'Is this seat engaged?' he askid.of the prettiest girl in the car, and, ing it wasn't he put his sample box in -he rack, and braced himself for a sol id enjoyment. 'Pleasant day,' said the girl, cor=+ 'og for him before hecould get his? tongue unkinked. 'Most bewildering Jay, isn't-it ?' 'Ye-yes, miss,' stammered the drunzmer. He was in' the -habit.of playing pitcher in this kind of a match, and the posiuion of catf'r didn't fit him as tightly as his pants loons. 'Nice weather for traveling!' con tinned the girl, 'much nicer theit ; when it was cold. Are you perfect-. ly comfortable?' 'Oh, yes; thanks !' murmured the drummer. 'Glad of it !' resumed the girl, cheerfully. .'Yo, don't look so. Let me put my shawl under your head, won't you? Hadn't you rather sit next to the window, and have me- de scribe the landscape to ydu?' 'No, please,' he muttered. I'm doing well enough.' 'Can't I buy you some peanuts, er a book ? Let me do something to make the trip happy ! Suppose slip my arm around your waist! Jet lean forward a trifle so I can! " Y 'You'll-you'l- have to excuse me gasped the wretched drummer.- I I don't think you really mean it ' 'You look so tired !' she pleaded. - 'Wouldn't you like to rest your head on my shoulder ? No one-will notice. Just lay your head- right down, and I'll tell you stories.' 'No-no, thanks ! I won't to-dy ' I'm very comfortable, thank-you and the poor drummer looked arouud : helplessly. 'Your scarf-pin is coming out. Let me fix it. There!' and she are it deftly. 'At the next station T1 get you a cup of tea, and wheb-we : arrive at destination, you'll let mecai on you, won't you?' and she smiled an anxious prayer right up into his : pallid countenance. 'I think I'll go away and smoke, said the drummer, and hauling down his grip-sack,. he made for the 'r - knee deep in the grins showered around him by his fellow passen. ' gers. 'Strange!' murmured the girl to the lady in front of her. 'I ouly did' with him just what he was makinL . ready to do with me, andbig and: strong as he is, he couldn't stind it. I really think women have stronger stomachs than men, and, besides thatid there isn't any smoking car for thean to fly to for refuge. I don't under stand this thing ;' but sb.e settle back contentedly, all the same, and at a convention of drummers, held in the smoker that morning, it was unanimously resolved thap her set was engaged, so far as they were con- - cerned, for the balance of the season. 2 (Drake's Travelers' Magazine. - Bad thoughts, if cherished, blight virtue, destroy purity, and under mine the stablest foundations of char-.. acter. They are like rot in timber; like rust in iron. They eat into-the man. -And when the process~ has gone on for awhile, and there comes the stress of an outward temptation, down they go into a mass of ruin ! Every ship that comes to America - got its chart from Columbus. Every . novel is -a debtor to Homer. Every ~ carpenter who shaves with a foreplane borrows the genius of a foreign inven tor. Life is girt all around with a zodiac of sciences. the contributions ci men who have perished to add their point of light to our sky. Reading is one of the greatest con solations in life ; it is the nurse of virtue, the upholder of adversity, the - prop of independence, the support of a just pride, the strengthening of ele- - vated opinions ; it is the shield against - the tyranny of all the petty passions; it is the repealer of the fool's scoff and the - knave's poison. Error would be mobbed in the - streets if she did not go disguised in tho garb of truth. Who would venture on the journey .. of life if compelled to begin at the - end ? The devil has one redeeming frail. He never gives a boader a cold room.