Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, November 05, 1874, Image 1
lewis *x. ?rist, proprietor. | Inbepenitcnf .familn ftefosppcr: Jfor t|e ^promotion of tjje |)o(itical, Social, Agricultural anh Commercial Interests of tjre Sonfjj. j TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE.
VOL. SO. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 1874. INTO. 45.
Jflcttcd factnt.
ASLEEP.
r BY JOHN G. SAXR.
"God bless the man who first invented sleep?"
So Sancho Pauza sjiid, and so say I;
And bless him also that he didn't keep
His great discovery to himself; or try
To make it?as the lucky fellow might?
A close monopoly bv "patent right."
Yes, bless the man who first invented sleep!
(I really can't avoid the reiteration ;)
But blast the man with curses loud and deep,
What ever the rascal's name, or age, or station, j
Who first invented, and went round advising,
That artificial cut ofl?"early rising."
"Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed," j
Observes some solemn, sentimental owl?
Maxims like these are very cheaply said;
But ere Vou make yourself a fool or fowl,
Pray just inquire about their rise or fall.
And whether larks have any beds at all!
The "time for honest folk to be a bed,"
Is in the morning, if I reason right;
And he who cannot keep ins precious head
Upon his pillow till it's fairly light,
And so enjoy his forty morning winks,
Is up to?knavery or else he drinks*
Thomson, who sung about the Seasons, said
It was a glorious thing to rise in season ;
But then he said it?lying?in his bed
At ten o'clock, A. M., the very reason
He wrote so charmingly. The simple fact is,
His preaching wasn't sanctioned by his practice, j
'Tis doubtless well to be sometimes awakeAwake
to duty and awake to truth?
But when, alas I a nice review we take
Of our best deeds and days, we find, in sooth.
The hours that leave the slightest cause to weep
Are those we pass in childhood, or?in sleep!
'Tis beautiful to leavethe world a while
For the soft visions of the gentle night!
And free, at last, from mortal care and guile,
To live as only in the angel's sight;
In Sleep's sweet realms all cosily shut in,
Where, at the worst, we only dream of sin.
So let us sleep, and give the Maker praise,
Like the lad, who, when his father thought
To clip his morning nap by hackneyed phrase
Of vagrant worm by early songster caught.
Cried, "Served him right! It's not at all surprising,
The worm was punished, sir, for early rising."
?Itc itovi) ccUev.
WHO WAS HE ?
On a dreary November afternoon, in the
year 18tit>, -Mr. Jtilonger, senior metuoer 01
the well-known firm of Blonger & Co., machinists
and manufacturers of marine engiucs,
established in 1803, was sittiug before
a blazing fire in his office in the east end of
London, when a visitor was announced, j
"Show him in. James," said the old gentle- j
man, and continued the perusal of the Times, j
A moment after, the door opened, and a young j
man, apparently about twenty-four years of
age, plainly attired, entered and stood hat in
hand, awaiting the leisure of the gentleman,
who merely glanced at the stranger, and immediately
resumed his paper, evidently thinking
his visitor to be a person of no importance.
After a silence of a few minutes, Mr. Blonger
laid down his paper, and looking up abruptly
said :
"Well, my good sir, what do you want with
me ?"
"Are you the elder Mr. Blonger ?" inquired
the stranger, with an unmistakable American
accent.
"I am."
"I heard of you, and came to see you. I
understand that you transact a large and successful
business, but it is not on that account
that I have called upon you. I am told that
you have considerable intlucnee with the chief j
persons in the British government, and it is j
for that, reason that I nav vou this visit."
Mr. Blonger placed his gold-rimmed spectacles
on his nose, and gazed in mote astonishment
at his visitor, who continued?
"I am the inventor, or discoverer rather, of
a secret of nature, a process which will revolutionize
the world, which will reverse natural
laws, which will inaugurate a new order of
things; a discovery, the results of which are
are so vast that no human mind can comprehend
them. In short, I can suspend the law
of gravitation."
At this monstrous assertion a look of alarm
appeared upon the countenance of the listen- j
er, but as he compared his own brawny frame
with the slight figure of the lunatic before
him, it gave place to a contemptuous smile, j
and he answered somewhat impatiently?
"Well, well, my dear sir, perhaps you can?
perhaps you can ; but I am not in that line of
business, and you had better apply to some-1
body else."
The young man went on with imperturba-!
ble gravity. "1 can swing the mightiest man- )
of-war England possesses into the air with my i
little finger. I can lift the largest cannon at
Woolwich like a cork; I am?"
"Yes, yes, 1 kuow?but I am busy now,"
replied the manufacturer, rising and advanc- j
ing toward the bell to summon a servant.
"\VrHit Mr UloiK'er." said his visitor, in a
' * n~-* ' j
tone of such deep earnestness that that gen- !
tleinan hesitated in spite of himself?"wait a
moment; I am not mad. I know you do not
believe me, and I do not wonder at it; but I
will show you that what I say is true."
He laid his hat upon the table, and drew
from the breast-pocket of his coat a glistening
blue wire. There was an iron anvil in a corner
of the room. lie wound the coil of wire
round the anvil in a moment, lifted it like a
feather from its place to the middle of the
apartment, and then stepped proudly back. ;
The anvil floated like a bubble in the air.
To say that Mr. Blonger looked astonished
and aghast would convey but a mild idea of;
the expression of his countenance at this mo- 1
ment. It was one of absolute horror. He
stood gazing first at the anvil and then at the
man,and at last, with a sigh of relief, he ejae
ulated, "perhaps this is only jugglery," and
dropped into a chair. The young American
snatched the coil of wire from around the an
vil, aud it fell at once with terrible force,
crushing in a portion of the floor. "I beg
your pardon, sir, but is there any jugglery
about that, think you ?" he asked with a smile,
and also sat down. The conversation that
ensued was long and earnest, and resulted in
this conclusion : Mr. Blonger was to notify
k one or two of his personal friends in the cabinet,
several scientific men of high repute, and
two or three prominent foreigners, the whole
number not to exceed twelve, that he wished
them to meet him in order to investigate in
concert a wonderful discovery iu science, the
nature of which would then be communicated.
The young stranger agreed to repeat his experimentson
the occasiou of the meeting, and
explain the process by means of which they
Hflfe were accomplished ; for the present he dcclined
to make any further revelations.
On the night of the 23d of November, I860,
tliow* nccnmKlptl in S\f f?onrorp9a T \ i? 11 ill T ,rm
don, three members of the English cabinet,
four gentlemen well known in the scientific
world, two prominent Frenchmen and two
Italians?eleven in all, exclusive of Mr. Blonger.
At the earnest solicitation of that gentleman,
these persons had come to meet they
knew not whom, and see they knew not what.
On the platform, at the end of the hall, lay a
small cannon, a heavy piece of iron shafting,
and several large iron wheels. What these
articles were for, they could not imagine. At
half-past eight o'clock the young man arrived,
and was introduced bv Mr. Blonger as a
young American who did not care to have his
name announced. The stranger was dressed
in a rough suit, the worse for wear, and wore
a slouched black hat. His hair was brown
and straight, his eyes were large and bright
* gray in color, and his face was as destitute of
beard as a woman's. He was above the medium
height and very slender, and his age
was apparently about twenty-four years, '
though he might have been older. He was
evidently but little used to the society of distinguished
persous,aud at first appeared somewhat
embarrassed at his position, but there J
was an expression of firmness about his mouth
that showed a strong will and a habit of hav- !
ing his own way. When he spoke it was j
with the air of a man who knew the ground
upon which he stood, and his manners were
those of one who felt that he was the inferior
of no man.
The janitor having been dismissed, and the
door locked, Mr. Blonger proceeded to explaiu
to those present why he had called them
together. His young American friend, he
said, had convinced him that he was in possession
of a prodigious secret, of the magni-[
tude of which they could judge when it was
presented to them.
The whole affair at this point catne near j
being broken off in disgust, by an unexpected ;
requirement which the unknown stranger ex- !
acted. He declined to proceed, unless all
present entered into an agreement not to {
communicate what they might witness to any ]
living person, for a period of ten years, without
gaining his consent. The Right Honora-'
ble G was on his mettle at once. He
washed his hands of the whole matter, and
desired to retire immediately. The others
were equally indignant, and expressions not
considered elegant in high society were heard.
It required all Mr. Rlonger's sagacity to quell
the storm. Rut the young man was immov-:
able, and at last, at the earnest solicitation of j
Mr. Blonger, the guarantee was given. The
stranger then took the stage, and his auditors ;
the seats immediately in front of him.
"Gentlemen," he began, "from what I have ;
seen of your incredulity this evening, I am j
satisfied that if I should iuform you that the j
attraction of gravitation could be so suspend-1
cd, that objects upon the earth's surface would I
have absolutely no weight, and, further, that !
I was in possession of the simple means where-!
by this end could be accomplished, you would |
greet my assertion with jeers and ridicule. I
shall, therefore, show you what I can do first,
and talk afterward. You see in my hands
this coil of wire, blue, like tempered steel. <
This cannon weighs nearly three tons. I wrap
the wire round it. If you listen carefully you 1
will hear a burring sound, similar to that J
made by an electric machine. But that has !
nothing to do with the matter. The ends of:
the wire are joined. This caunon now weighs j
no more than a soap bubble. You seel move j
it about the air with my hand, with two fin- .
nrers with one Hero is a stronc oaken chair.
I place the cannon upon it, and when I with- j
draw the wire, mark the result. The chair
goes crushing to pieces on the floor, uuder the
weight of three tons of iron."
This conclusive proof of the grandest discovery
ever yet made by man, brought every j
person preseut to his feet. Mr. Blonger stood J
apart in triumph. The young exhibitor alone ;
remained unmoved. "How is it done?" cried
they all. "How did you make this wonderful j
discovery?" They now looked upon him !
with the awe one feels in the presence of a su- j
perior being.
He raised his hand and requested silence.
"The action of this simple wire," said he, "is |
not confined to metalic substances. Its effect i
on all objects is the same. I put it around j
this wooden bench, as you see, and the bench j
weighs nothing; around this chair, and the i
result is the same. Here is this large iron J
shaft, and these wheels. You perceive that it j
affects all alike. Perhaps you think that it'
has no power over living substances. You
are mistaken. I will agree to put this little ]
wire round my waist, and step from the dome
of St. Paul's. I will show you."
A ladder extended from the floor to the
lofty ceiling of the hall. The stranger climbed
to its very summit, adjusted his belt, and
sprung boldly off. He slowly unclasped the
ends of the wire, so that they scarcely came
in contact, anil descended gradually and safe
ly to the ground, to the infinite relief of the j
spectators, who gazed horrow-struck at the
scene.
"Thus you see, gentlemen," said lie, again
ascending the stage, "what powers lie hidden j
in nature, until they are accidentally stum- i
bled upon. You all think there is some power ;
contained in this wire. I must tell you that
the wire has but little to do with it. And yet
I will agree to go down to any of your seaports,
and put this wire or one like it, round
any one of your old seventv-four-gun ships we !
read of, and lift it into a dry dock, with a line '
no strouger than a pack-thread, if the wind
is not blowing at the time. This wire, at i
which you all gaze so curiously, has no power ;
in itself. It is only the means of cuuimunica-;
ting a power; still, no man shall examine it, j
except under certain conditions; and this i
brings inc to the point I intended to make by j
,*ni?tloivinn r\P VAtll' C f ? n (1 i 11 ?7 Sintl
VAllllllg gtMUV.uv-w o |
intelligence here to-night. I wish to sell my
knowledge to the English government."
"And why to the government?" cried the
Right Honorable P> and the honorable j
Mr. S in a breath.
"Because no private individual is rich
enough to buy it. I once thought to dispose j
of it to my own government, that of the United
States, but I shall not enter into the reasons ;
why I abandoned that idea and came here, j
Besides, it becomes public property after ten |
years. I would not agree to sell the right i
under any conditions for a longer time. The I
J o ^
benefits of the discovery are universal, and in !
justice belong to mankind, and mankind shall
have them."
Said a member of-the cabinet: "Your idea
of selling such a discovery to the government
of Great Britain seems chimerical, and I may
add, it savors of selfishness to keep your
knowledge from the world. But may I he permit
ted to ask how much do you demand for
your knowledge ?" 1
Here the young man rose to his feet in an j
excited manner. "You talk of selfishness," !
said he; "I know what it is to labor and to ,
suffer, and to lie lost amid mountains, and ;
tormented with thirst upon deserts. I have |
labored hundreds of feet under ground, with
pick and shovel, for my daily bread. I got
tired of this ; I swore off. I hold in my pus
session what will make nie independent lor
life, besides confcring inestimable benefits ;
upon my fellow men, and I intend to use it so
far. Selfishness, indeed ! What did Morse
or Fulton make from their inventions, except
what was given them almost as charity, after
! they let their knowledge go out of their hands? ,
: No charity for me. I hold my discovery
; alone, and I will part with it only on my own
terms. You ask me what I demand for it. I
want 85,000,000."
.
"Five millions is a rather large sum," Pro
! fessorT ventured to remark.
; "A large sum! Have you taken into consideration
what this discovery is destined to
accomplish? Why, I tell you it will revolutionize
the world. Take the dockyards of
Great Britain alone. What, think you, will
be the saving in a year, when every object,
from the greatest to the smallest, can be
moved to any distance, without expense?
IIow long will it take to build your largest
edifices, when your blocks of marble weigh
nothing ? O, gentlemen, when you have eonP.i
i T i i....~ ...:n
SKiemi U1IS SUUjeci as I liuvc nunc, ywu Hill
stand overpowered with the magnitude of the
results that are to follow. Think of its effects
upon means of transportation. When there
I is no weight to carry, may not even the air be
navigated?"
"Do you object to informing us how you
happened to discover this mighty and mysterious
secret of nature ?"
i "Mysterious! Why, it's so simple that any
3BT, :'JB?n?K?
child can understand it. I stumbled upon it. |(
.Since I have discovered it, I wonder that it is
not found out a thousand times every day.!;
But, gentlemen, are you aware that I doubt
whether I am really a pioneer in this field '? j
There are books, written thousands of years ; ,
ago, which I read when a boy, that have led j
me to believe that this is one of the lost arts, '
though it was known, perhaps, only to a fa- j .
vored few. I feel sure?very sure?that the 1 j
simple law by which the attraction of gravita- ,
tion is suspended was known in ancient Peru, I
Arabia, and perhaps in Egypt, also, and went j j
down in oblivion with other lost arts, in some j
general catastrophe. The same law I discov- < 1
?u/tfl'iniv In ?i oilunr mino 1 000 fppf
CIUU nunc !TVJirWl>4?^ 1U (V Oil ? VI IlliUV) A)VVV .vvv
underground, and my knowledge I am ready ! J
to communicate under the conditions that I i'
have named."
"But should you die in the meantime, would *
not your discovery be again lost, and the ;'
world be deprived of its benefits ?"
"O, not at all. I have taken care of that. ,
Whether I live or die, or whatever may hap-1,
pen to me, within ten years from the present! ]
time the world will be fully informed upon I't
this subject."
After some further consultation a select'
committee was appointed, to meet in three j;
days, to fully investigate the secret, and take |!
some action upon the proposition ofthestranger,
who, after reminding all present of their
promise of secrecy, departed?and was never (
seen again.
Several months ago, a distinguished gentleman,
a resident of a great American city, received
the. following communication from a
piominent solicitor in London : ,
"No.?Old It road Strkkt, 1
"London, September?, 1S73. J
" , Esq.?Dear Si itA short time since,
an Italian, who was the confidential clerk of one i
of my much esteemed clients?Signor Suzzini, of
the house of Suzzini, IsolaA Co., of London, Nnples,
and France?died suddenly, leaving in writing
the statement, which accompanies this letter.
What transpired at St. George's Hall, in Novem- <
her, 18(it>, concerning a subject of the most absorbing
interest to those present, has been kept a profound
secret, under a solemn pledge; but owing to ;
the strange circumstances of the case, and the al- j
most certain death of a remarkable stranger, sup- | ,
posed to be an American, whose re-appearance >'
lias been awaited with the most intense anxiety,
for years, by those informed on the subject, Signor
Suzzini has considered himself so far absolved '
from his obligation as to convey to some trustiinrHsiti?i*
in vmn* citv the information 1
herein contained.
"All communications received from you, will
he kept strictly secret; but in any event, if you
succeed in discovering the bank,' impress upon i
the managers the supreme importance of carefully
preserving, at all hazards, the documents, committed
to their charge.
T have the honor to remain, etc.,
"Gkokok Mathior Marshall."
The following is the statement of the Italian
clerk :
"In November, 1866, a very important congregation
came together in St. George's Hall.
Strange things were seen. I was there. Much
money was to he gained. A young man, a!
" 1 . 1 _ i . t*. I
lanKee?naa a secret in nis pocKet. it
was a wire worth millions. He left the hall. |
It was a dark night?fog and smoke thick and ;
black. I followed him. Down Regent street !
under the gas-lamps, he went on foot. I followed
him. Across the Haymarket, across 1
Leicester Square?at 11 o'clock?and th rough
a dark and narrow alley toward St. Martin's
Lane. I could have done it there, but others
came by and I shrunk back into the gloom.
Through St. Martin's Lane to the Strand, j
down the Strand to the turning of Waterloo I
Bridge, still I followed him. I saw he was |
going to cross the bridge on foot. I crossed |
the street and got ahead of him, and in the
middle of the bridge I hid myself behind the :
parapet. By and by my man came along, ;
slowly walking, his hands behind him, and
his eyes bent upon the ground. When near j1
me he paused, and looked toward St. Paul's, |
whose huge bulk loomed up still higher as I
the moonlight tried to struggle through the !
fog. I was near enough to hear him. He !
said : *0, mighty monument, the pride and
glory of an empire, thy renown has gone forever.
All I see around me, though the work
of centuries, is but the amusement of a child,
the labor of a day. How powerful am I!?
here I stole up behind him, without noise?
'in future ages my name shall be '? my j
stilletto fell between his shoulders, and he |
dropped like a lamb. His pockets yielded
up a coil of wire and a bundle of papers, and
his body went over into the river. Ah! I
knew how to do it. I-had done it often before
at Ferrera, on the Po.
"The secret was mine. I was frantic with
excitement. I hurried home to my apartments,
double-locked the door, turned up the
lamp, and examined my prize. It was the j
wire?the identical wire?which had swung a
cannon in the air, not two hours before. I
was impatient to test its powers. I seized an 1
iron poker from the hearth, wrapped the wire j
around it, poised it aloft, let it go, and it fell j
clattering to the floor. I tried different arti- i
cles. I wound the wire in everv imaginable :
- .. -- ^ J o I
shape, and still with the same Jesuit. Morning
fountl me haggard and exhausted with !
tny labor, and unsuccessful. Business at the j'
office prevented further attempts, until even- I
ing. I worked fruitlessly until midnight, j
when suddenly I thought of the papers I had
also seized. Fool that I was not to have
thought of them before. They undoubtedly j
contained an explanation of the secret. I !1
tore them open with eager fingers. All were 1 '
blank except one, and it contained the following:
"Knowing the uncertainty of life and;
the dangers of travel, I have on this day,! i
(July 7th, 1866), placed in the vaults of a
reliable banking house in the city of a '
sealed packet containing the details and explanation
of the means by which the laws of
gravitation are rendered inoperative. In case
of my death or failure to return, the officers
of said bank have explicit instructions to open t
said packet on May 1st, 187G, and spread the
facts therein contained to the world. My I
knowledge is at present confined to myself, j
but will not long continue so, as I shall soon
nrnr>r>pil to F.nmrif' to imtmrf. mv information
I? i'~> ? ?r -v y
to the most renowned scientific men in the
world. My only object in making the bank
a depositary, is to provide against accident,
and secure to the world, beyond all peradventure,
the benefits of this mighty secret."
"There was no name nor signature. After
this, I labored for months in vain to discover
the secret workings of the wire; until at last
it occurred to me that the stranger had said
at St. George's Hall that the wire itself had
no power, but was only the means of commit-'
ideating a power. Infuriated to the last degree,
I threw the coil which had cost me so
much misery, anxiety and suspense, into the
Thames, one night, where it could tell no
tales. When I am dead, the company who
assembled at St. George's Ilall on that event- <'
fill night may be requested to cease their painful
womb-rings at the failure of the mysterious
stranger to return. He will never come
back, gentlemen. The Thames received his
body nearly eight years ago."
mis iiiHsnos uie case at present, uui tu ,
what banking-house is the invaluable packet
of papers deposited ? Who was the man, and
in May, 1870, will the ancient but lost secret
of suspending the law of gravitation become
again known to the world ?
flrcif" A standing antidote for poison by dew, ' <
poison oak, ivy, &c., is to take a handful of j
quick-lime, dissolve in water, let it stand half! i
an hour, then paint the poisoned parts with
it. Three or four applications will never fail i
to cure the most aggravated cases. Poison
from bees, hornets, spider bites, &e., is in- j
stantly arrested by the application of equal
parts of common salt and bicarbonate of soda,
i well rubbed in on the place bitten or stung.
Igistdtouccus fading.1
CONQUERING A HUSBAND.
There were people enough to envy Millicent'
Haughton when she was married to Radcliffe
Grates. She was only a district schoolteacher,!
it so much a month, without home or parents. I
He was a wealthy banker, who seemed to!iiave
nothing on earth to do but to indulge j
[lis whims and caprices to their utmost bent, i
and the world in general announced its die- ;
;ura that Milly Haughton "had done uncom- j
tnonly well for herself." i
But Milly did not look happy upon that \
goldeu July morniug, with the sunshine j
streaming through the oriel window of the !
great breakfast room at Gates place, and
scattering little drops of gold and crimson and 1
glowing purple on the mossy ground of the
stone-colored carpet.
She was dressed in a loose, white cambric |
wrapper, looped and buttoned with blue, and !
i single pearl arrow upheld the shining mas-,
3es of her lovely auburn hair. Her eyes were ,
deep, liquid hazel; hsr complexion as soft j
and radiant as the dimpled side of an early !
peach ; and the little kid-slippered foot that j
patted the velvet ottoman beneath was as per- j
feet and tapering as a sculptor could have
wished it.
Mr. Gates, from his side of the damaskdraped
table, eyed her with the complacent
gaze of proprietorship. She was his wife. .
lie liked her to look well just as he wanted '
his horses properly groomed and his conservatories
kept in order; and he troubled him- '
self very little about the shadows on her ,
brow. i
"I'm in earnest, Radcliffe!" she said, with (
emphasis.
"So I suppose, Mrs. Gates," said the hus- j
band, leisurely folding his paper?a sign that
the news within was thoroughly exhausted?
"so I supposed. But it isn't at all worth ,
while to allow yourself to get excited. When ]
I say a thing, Mrs. Gates, I generally mean
it. And I repeat it?if you need money for
any sensible and necessary purpose, I shall be f
most willing and happy to accommodate
you." (
Millicent bit her full, red lower lip and
drummed impatiently on the table with her |
ten restless fingers. "And I am to come
meekly imploring you for every five cent (
piece I happen to want ?"
"Yes, Mrs. Gates, if you prefer to put the
matter in that light." ,
"Radcliffe," she coaxed, suddenly changing
her tone, "do give me an allowance?I don't ,
care how little! Don't subject me to the hu- ,
miliatiou of pleading for a little money half!,
a dozen times a day. You are rich." I
"Exactly, my dear," nodded the Benedict; \
"and that's the way I made ray fortune; by |.
looking personally after every penny, and I \
mean to keep it up." I (
"But think how I was mortified yesterday :
when Mrs. Armour came to ask me if I 1,
could subscribe fifty cents toward buying a I'
hand carriage for our washerwoman's lame j
child?only fifty cents?and I had to say, |
'must ask my husband to give me the money j
when he returns from the city,'?for I had
not even fifty cents of my own.
"All very right?all very proper!" said j
Mr. Gates, playing with the huge rope of gold i
that hung across his chest in the guise of a
watch chain.
"Other ladies are not kept penniless."
"That rests entirely between them and their j'
husbands, Mrs. Gates."
"I will not endure it," cried Milly, starting ;
to her feet, with cheeks dyed scarlet and in- j
dignantly glittering eyes.
Mr. Gates leaned back iu his chair with i1
provoking complacency.
"I will have money !" said Milly, defiantly.!
"How are you going to get it, my dear?" j'
retorted her spouse, with an aggravating sinile i
playing arouud the corners of his mouth, j ,
"You have nothing of your own?absolutely i (
nothing. The money is all mine, and I mean '
to keep it."
Milly sat down agaiu, twisted her pocket- j,
handkerchief around and around. She was j
not prepared with an immediate answer.
"And now, Mrs. Gates," said the banker,;
after a moment or two of overwhelming silence, ;
"if you'll be good enough to stitch that hut- j
ton on ray glove, i ll go down town. i nave (
already waited too ranch time."
80 the verbal passage-at-arms ended, and ;1
Milly felt that, so far, she was worsted.
She watched Mr. Gates drive off in an ele-;
gant open barouche, drawn by two long tail (
chestnut horses, all a glitter with plated har- j ]
ness, and turned away almost wishing that she I
was Millicent Haughton once again, behind ;
lier desk in the little red school room.
She looked around at the inlaid furniture,
Aubusson carpets and satin window draperies, ,
and thought, with a passionate pang, how j
little all this availed her. j |
"It's so provoking of Radcliffe !" she raur- ,
inured. "I've half a mind to go out to ser- j
vice, or dress making, or something?for I !
must have money of ray own, and I will ?" (
Just then a servant knocked at the door |
with a basket and a note.
"An old lady in a Shaker bonnet and a i ]
one-horse wagon left it," said the girl, with a 1 (
scarcely disguised titter. "She wouldn't come ,
in, although I invited her."
Mrs. Gates opened the note. It ran, in a ,
stiff, old-fashioned caligraphy, as if the pen ,
were an unwonted implement in the writer's (
hand : 11
1)j:ak Mii.i.v: The strawberries in the south
incthler lot are just ripe, where vou used to pick
? - ' l-'ill- ? ..1 Da.wJ,.*.,.
cm wnen you wore a nun; jpu; no i l-ih n.j.v
picked a lol and we inado bold to send tliein to '
you, for the sake of old times, as aunt Araininta (
is going to the city to-morrow. We hope you will .
like them. Affectionately your friend, M
makia Ann I'kahody. j i
The tears sparkled in the bride's eyes. For '
an instant it seemed to her as if she were a 1 1
merry child again, picking strawberries in the
golden rain of a July sunshine, with the : }
scent of wild roses in the air and the gurgle
of the little trout stream close by. Ami as
she lifted the lid of the great basket of crim- '
son, luscious fruit and inhaled the delicious 1
perfumery, a sudden idea darted into her 1
head.
"Now I will have money of my own !" she
cried out?"money that I will earn myself <
and thus be independent!"
Half an hour afterward Mrs. Gates came 1
down stairs, to the infinite amazement of Ra- chael,
the chambermaid, and Louisa, the par- <
lor maid, in a brown gingham dress, a white <
pique sun-bonnet and a basket on her arm. 1
"Won't you have the carriage ma'am ?" i <
* r r\ . i_ i 1*^.
asked the J utter, as iurs. uaics oecKoneu io u .
passing omnibus. '(
"No, I won't !" said the banker's lady.
And within the city limits sbe alighted and i
began work in good earnest. I
" Strawberries! who'll buy my wild straw-, 1
berries?" rang out her clear, shrill voice, as 1
die walked along?lightly balancing the ]
weight on her arm, and enjoying the impromp- 1 1
tu masquerade as only a spirited young wo- }
man can. t
Mrs. Prowler bought four quarts for pre- i
serving at twenty-live cents a quart. ]
"Wild berries have such a Havor," said the i
old lady, reflectively ; "and 'taint often you t
get 'cm here in the city. I s'pose you don't f
come round reg'lar young woman ?" ; l
"No, I don't ma'am." ! 1
?.1> ?:~Uf I
"DCCiiUSU yilU llligut auiuu tuoiu- i
mors," said Mrs. Prowler. (
Miss Seninthia Hall, who keeps hoarders, (
purchased two quarts; Mrs. Captain Carbary ! r
took one; and tlien Millicent jumped on the : i
cars and rode wearily down town.
"I've got a dollar and seventy-five cents of I
ny own now, at all events," said she to herself. , c
"Strawberries I Nice, ripe, wild strawber- 1
'ies! buy my strawberries!"
Her sweet voice resounded through the
mils of the great marble building, on whose f
irst floor the great bank was situated. 11
It chanced to be a dull interval of business I
ust then, and the cashier looked up with a f
fawn. 11
"I say, Bill James," said he to the youngest
:lerk, "I have an idea that a few strawberries i
wouldn't go badly. Call in the woman." i s
Billy, nothing loth, slipped off his stool with . s
i pen behind each ear, and scampered out i ^
nto the hall. 11
So Milly sold another quart. < t
As she was giving change for the cashier's t
lollar bill the president himself came in, bust- 1
ingand brisk as usual. ! t
"Eh? What? "How?" barked out Mr. 11
Radcliffe Gates. "Strawberries? Well, I j 1
lon'tcare if I take a few myself. Here, young j i
yoman, how do you sell them?" . t
Milly pushed back her sun-bonnet and exe- i 1
juted a sweeping courtesy. I <
"Twenty-five cents a quart, sir, if you please," 1
purred she with much humility. j 1
The president dropped his paper of straw- j ]
jerries on the floor. j
"Mrs. Gates!" he ejaculated.
"The same, sir," said Milliceut. ! 1
"May I venture to inquire " j j
"Oh ! yes," said Milly. "You may inquire is
much as you please. I needed a little ;
money, and I am earning it. See how much j (
[ have already !" and she triumphantly dis- 1
played her roll of crumpled stamps. "The 1
strawberries were all my own, sent to me this <
morning by old Mrs. Peabody, and I'm selling
them to get an income of my own." 1
"You, ma'am, selling strawberries through
the streets ?" 1
Milly made a second courtesy.
"Extreme necessities justify extreme meas-;
ures, Mr. Gates," she said, saucily. I earned ,
my own living before I saw you, and I can
igain." j
Mr. RadcliffeGates looked uneasily around ,
at the crowd of gaping clerks. 1
"James," said he, "call me a hack. My <
Jear; let me take you home." 1
"Not until I have sold the rest of my straw- 1
berries," saucily retorted the young wife. j
"I'll take 'em?at any price!" impatiently 1
exclaimed the banker.
"Cash down?"
"Yes; anything, every thing?only come
Dut of this crowd.
So Mr. and Mrs. Gates went home; and <
that evening the banker agreed to make his
wife a regular allowance of so much per week, j
to be paid down every Monday morning at
the breakfast table.
"But we'll have no more selling strawber- .
ries," said Mr. Gates, nervously.
"To be sure not," said Milly. "All I wantad
was a little money of my own." .
And Mr. Radcliffe Gates respected his wife ;
all the more because she had conquered him (
in a fair battle.
THE VERY ALPS OF IMPUDENCE.
Policeman Badger, of the tenth station,
had a bit of experience the other night, which
he is not fond of talking about. It was past
midnight as he was leisurely pushing his beat
through Jessop street, and as he came opposite
to Drayton & Fogg's jewelry store he observed
gleams of light through the chinks of the
I? .. 1 t-- . J ...
siillliers, uuu ne uipjjeu ut mc uuui.
"Is that you, policeman ?" asked a voice
within.
"Yes," answered Badger.
"Well?it's only me?it's all right; kind
o' chilly out, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Thought so. I was just fixing the fire?
good night."
Badger said "Good night," and pursued his
way. An hour afterward Badger passed
through Jessop street again, and again he
saw the light in the jewelry store. It didn't
look right, and he banged at the door loudly.
"Hallo !" cried the voice within. "Is that
vou, policeman?"
" "Yes."
"All right. Wont'tyou come in and warm?
It won't hurt anything for you to slip from
your heat a few minutes."
The door opened and Policeman Badger
entered, and he found the inmate to be a very
gentlemanly looking man in a linen duster.
"Come right up to the stove policeman.
Bxcuseme for a moment."
The man took the ash-pan from the bottom
of the stove and carried it down into the cellar
and emptied it, and when he had returned
and wiped his hands he said, with a smile :
"Chilly night, isn't it ?"
"Yes."
nfti mi ? j..11 r a i i
"L nujy outsiue, anu uuji insine. vnnuiuci
smile.) New goods foi the Spring trade, and j
liave to keep our eyes open. Lonesome work ,
fliis, watching all night, but I manage to find 11
x hit of comfort in this. Won't you join me j
in a tip ? You'll find it the pure thing." i'
And the man produced a black bottle and a !1
tumbler. Policeman Badger partook, and j
uaving wiped his lips and given his fingers a
new warming, he left the store and resumed ;
liis beat, satisfied that all was right at Dray- J
ton & Fogg's. But the morning brought a 1
new revelation. Drayton & Fogg's store had 1
been robbed during the night of 86000 worth
if watches and jewelry, and although Policeman
Badger carries in his mind a complete
lagucrreotype of the robber, the adroit rascal
lias not yet been found.?New Haven Register.
A PENNSYLVANIA ROMANCE.
Two farmers living on adjoining farms in
Girard township, Erie county, have for years
been unfriendly on accountof a disagreement |
about the fences which separated their lands, !,
both claiming the ten feet which was former- j (
ly the lane running between the two places. '
Iheir children have grown up inheriting their |'
parents' animosity, and their eldest sons have I
several times been subpoenaed as witnesses in j ]
lawsuits winch have grown out or tins aim-1 ]
Lulty. The case had been a sort of suit in i ,
chancery, having run on from year to year,
both men spending their money in lawyers' | J
fees without any legal conclusion.
About a year ago the two farmers awoke | ]
me Monday morning to find that each had
lost a child ; one his youngest son, and the
)thcr his only daughter. Like the houses of j
Montague and Capuk;, in Romeo and Juliet, I i
die scions of the two ri val houses had secretly !
cherished a fondness for one another, and j
knowing the feud between the families, with-!
out divulging their passions or intention, they j <
net clandestinely and carried into effect the <
lopcmeut. I ]
A week passed, at the end of which the !
:'ather of the runaway daughter was called on i
:o go to Erie again to attend the everlasting ! ]
awsuit. He went early to the office of the t
awyer, and, taking up one of the weekly pa- {
jers, read the marriage notice of Emma. It' s
,v?s a terrible blow, and lie went out into the ' s
fard to try and walk off his excitement. All 1
hat passed through the old gentleman's mind jr
s not known, but there seemed to be a des- I
icrate struggle within, which resulted in his i
eturning to the lawyer's office and postponing i
U..?: l
,UU UUMIIC53, JL null 11U UIUVC UJlUUtlJ IV mo j J
'arm nml had a long private interview with t
lis wife; then he did what he had not done i
or twenty years?went over and called on s
lis enemy. He was found sick, having been s
jonfined to his room since the abandonment' i
if his favorite son. The two farmers met, j i
md both, for a few moments, stood face to \
ace in profound silence. c
At length the father of Emma spoke. t
"I have come to settle the dispute; let the
:hildren have the lot on either side of the s<
ane, and I will build them a house." c
"And I will furuish it." c
So the recreant children were sent for and a
brgiven, and came home to receive their pa- n
ents' blessing. And now there are no more v
awyers for the two farmers, but each has a
aithfully fulfilled his contract in regard to o
he house and furniture, tl
c
Toys as Teachers.?While carefully c
ivoiding the mistake of making play a lesson, ii
lome few toys, if well selected, may impart a o
,*ast amount of instruction, and that without t<
he child having to undergo any undue men- o
,al strain. It would, of course, be undesirable r
;o give a little boy five or six years old a di- b
ect lesson on the principles of the bridge and c
he use of the keystone. Give him, however, b
i box of bricks capable of making a bridge fi
,vith the centering, and show him how to put e
t together; he will puzzle over it for days, t
;ry every sort oi arrangement, anu uuwiuujg- u
y become gradually and practically acquaint- u
2d with some important mechanical laws. i
Again, a little model of a steam engine
made to work by gas or spirit, which may be
nought for a dollar or two, is a most attract- o
ve toy. Children will watch it for hours. 9
They see the water poured in; they remark 8
that it is made to boil, and soon has to be re- c
plenished; they notice the action of the J
valves, the piston, the crank and all the parts, e
When they come to study the theoretical laws s
of steam and machines, half the difficulty of t
their first lessons vauish. If during his play, 8
the child is so fortunate as to have a really
sducated nurse or mother, herself acquainted f
with the outlines of such general knowledge, c
the child's play may be made, by simple toys, c
far more educational and interesting than any -1
set lesson, and the result of the instruction ?
far more fixed on his mind than the simplest -1
theoretical idea could ever be by any number ^
of repetitions and learnings by heart. f
What is true concerning the box of bricks t
and the model engine, is also true of a number *
of other toys; that is, they depend for their *
action on certain laws, with which, by a little 1
skill, childreta may be made practically familiar
without any undue taxing of their
minds, and during the time they are engaged 1
in play. Of these may be mentioned the kite, ?
magnetic fish, hydrostatic toys, with water ^
wells, fountains, etc.; pneumatic toys, such as <
pop-guns, etc.; tops of all sorts, the kabido- ?
scope, the magic wheel, etc. All these in- 1
volve scientific laws which a child may un- ?
derstand familiarly with no more difficulty, if f
properly put before him, than he usually finds t
in learning to read.? Good Health. 11
Keep out of Debt.?Half the perplexity,
annoyance and trouble that men have in the
world, is in consequence of getting into debt.
It seems to be natural for some people to buy
and incur obligations without measure, so long
as they cau avoid paying ready cash. Give
one of this sort a chance to buy on credit, and
the questions of price and conditions of payment,
are matters that he cares but little
about. But what a crop of trouble springs
up from the seed of debt! How many sleepless
nights result from it! How many gray
hairs it brings, and how often it shortens life? '
sometimes leading men to commit suicide or <
murder. And yet, how easy it is to keep clear i
of this terrible monster. J
Every young man should form a fixed and '
unalterable determination, before commencing 1
liis active business career, not to incur one '
penny of indebtedness, under any circum- 1
stances. Never buy anything, unless you 1
have the money to pay for it at once. Pay *
no attention to "splendid opportunities," "bar- ('
gains," "rare chances," and the like. Such j 1
are only traps set to catch victims. If you i
see anything that you would like to accept, !1
look first at your money pile, and make the i ]
answer depend upon that. Always pay as j i
you go. If you are short of money, gauge ]
your demands accordingly. <
Two Wrinkles.?Very often a screw 1
hole gets so worn that the screw will not stay
in. Where glue is handy, the regular carpenter
makes the hole larger and glues in a ! J
large plug, making a nest for an ordinary new j <
hole. But this is not always the case, and ; <
people without tools, and in an emergency, of- 1
ten have the thing at once. Generally leather <
is used, but this isso hard that it does not hold <
well. The best of all things is to cut narrow >
strips of cork, and fill the hole completely, i <
Then force the screw in. This will make as 11
tight a job as if driven into an entirely new j'
hole. | i
Another hint of a similar character may J
be useful. One often desires to put a staple i 5
into a block of stone. The hole is made, the i <
3taple inserted, and lead melted and run in. ; I
But unless the hole is made with the bottom ! 1
larger than the top, the lead will in time work j <
out, if there is much jar or side strain on the j 1
iron. Besides, the lead itself is liable to some j compression,
which admits of looseness, cspe- i
cially after being subjected to very hot fires, j ,
A much better article is sulphur. If this be i
melted and nnured in aruUlld the Stanle in- ! (
stead of lead, it makes a much more durable j
job. Besides, it is often more easy to procure .
sulphur than lead, as every store keeps that ]
in general variety.
Warm Fret.?AT ?ny of the colds which !
people are said to catch, commence at the j
feet. To keep these extremities warm therefore,
is to effect an insurance against the al-1
most interminable list of disorders which !
spring out of a "slight cold." First never be
tightly shod. Boots or shoes, when they fit
closely, press against the foot, and prevent the
free circulation of the blood. When, on the 1
contrary, they do not embrace the foot too 1
tightly, the blood gets fair play, and the
spaces left between the leather and stockings i
are filled with a comfortable supply of warm
air. The second rule is?never sit in damp j
shoes. It is often imagined, that unless they1
are positively wet, it is not necessary to change j
fkrtm iirliila tlia font oro of reef T'tiia ?e ft ^
Wli^lXI VTWI1W 1111/ ll/VU U? V 4*1/ I VWVl AIIIW aw V* I
fallacy ; for when the least dampness is ab- i
sorbet! into the sole, it is attracted further to : c
Lhe foot itself by its own heat, and thus perspiratiou
is daugerously checked. Auy per- c
son may prove this by trying the experiment
neglecting the rule, and his feet will be- j ^
;ome cold and damp after a few moments, al-1.
though, taking off the shoe and warming it, it, 1
will appear quite dry. : ^
Almost Incredible.?An American sail- 1
)r died recently in Paris who swallowed and
ligested knives for his amusemeut. The r
Paris Steele says: !j
"When the body was opened there was t
bund in it fourteen knives, all corroded and ' i
:>artly dissolved. On one of them, however, c
;he name of the maker might still be distiu- e
juished; a copper button and part of a silver j'
letting which had adorned another were t
scarcely touched, but the nails, springs aud v
torn handles were in a state of decomposition, i f
riie final malady and death had been caused ' n
ly the hilt of a large knife becoming fixed o
icross the intestines. The stomach itself was a
iot at all injured, and Cummings, after his 1:
ast experiment, had eaten with excellentappe- a
,ite. It therefore appears that the swallow- j
ng aud digesting of knives did not kill the
lailor, but he died because one of them got v
nafled up in his intestines. While his death t
s to be regretted, there is still consolation in j 11
emerabering that he was an American, if he 11
vas full of knives; and that his example was j y
:alculated to inspire Parisians with envy at 1f
he capabilities of the American stomach." I ri
Lighting Fire in a Stove.?Many parens
have noticed the extreme difficulty enountered
in lighting the fire in a stove, espeially
on a still, damp morning. The stove
t first won't draw, even vigorous blowing will
ot suffice ; and then when it does start, it is
nth a sort of explosion or outward rush of
ir, which fills the room with smoke and gas,
ftentimes puffing the unpleasant fumes into
he face of the operator. This trouble is
aused by the difficulty encountered in overomiug
the inertia of the long column of air
a the pipe or chimney, by the small column
f air that can be forced up through the inerstices
of the wood and coal at the bottom
f which the fire is kindled. All this may be
eraedied by simply putting a few shavings or
its of dry paper on the top of the wood or
oal, and first lighting that; it immediately
ursts into a blaze, because the air has persctly
free access to it from all sides, the heatd
air forces its way into the chimney and esablishes
there an upward current. The
natch can then De appneu iu me AlUUIlu^
inder the fuel, which will readily light, and
f dry, burst into a brisk blaze.
?
Keep Your Troubles Sacred.?A wife
if forty, whose life cannot all have been sunhine,
writes the following advice to other
oarried pairs: Preserve sacredly the privates
of your house, your marriage state and
'our heart. Let not father or mother, broth*
ir or sister, nor any third person, ven preume
to come in between you two, or to share
he joys and sorrows that belong to you two
done. With God's help build your own quiit
world, not allowing the dearest earthly
rieud to be the confident of aught that cou:oncems
your domestic peace. Let moments
>f alienation, if they occur, be healed at once,
tfever, no, never, speak of it outside, but to
i- -xi J ?U mill nnmo itnt. ritrht.
IUCI1 Uiuer uuincaa auu qji nm -0
?ever let the morrow's sun still find you at
variance. Renew or review the vow at all
eraptations?it will do you both good. And
hereby your souls will grow together, cementid
in that love which is stronger than death
ind you will become truly one. Thus do I
iray for every married pair.
Hand-Shaking.?How did people get into
;he habit of shaking hands ? The answer is
lot far to seek. In early and barbarous times
vhen every savage and serai-savage was his
>wn law-giver, judge, soldier and policeman,
ind had to watch over his own safety, in default
of all other protection, two friends and
icquaintances, or two strangers desiring to be
Viends or acquaintances, when they chanced
;o meet, offered each other the right hand?
he hand alike of offense and defense?the
land that wielded the sword, the dagger, the
;lub, the tomahawk or other weapon of
var. Each did this to show that the hand
vas empty, and neither war nor treachery was
ntended. A man cannot well stab another
ivhen he is in the act of shaking hands with
lira, unless he be a double-dyed traitor and
villain, and strives to deal a cowardly blow
ivith the left while giving the right, and pre1
* 1 " ' nil f \y vl 1Q T710
;enaing 10 ue uu guuu iciiuo mm ?
;ira.
Idle Daughters.?It is a most painful
spectacle in families where the mother is the
Irudge, to see the daughters elegantly dressed
reclining at their ease, with their drawing,
;heir music, their fancy work and their readng;
beguiling themselves for hours, days and
weeks, and never dreaming of their responsibilities,
but as a necessary consequence of neglect
of duty, growing weary of their useless
life, laying hold of every newly invented
stimulant to amuse their drooping energies,
md blaming fate when they dare not blame
;heir God for having placed them where they
tre. These individuals will often tell you,
with an air of compassion?for who can believe
it real ??that poor, dear mamma is workng
herself to death. Yet no sooner do you
propose that they should assist her, than they
leclare she is quite in her element?in short,
;hat she would never be happy if she only
iad half as much to do..
? ?
Exercise.?The amount of daily exercise
aecessary for health depends upon the kind of
exercise, and varies considerably with different
persons and with the same person at different
times. A safe rule to go by is to exercise
uutil"slightly fatigued, It should not be
continued so loug that half an hour of perfect
-est will not entirely remove all feeling of fa
dgue. Special exercise for retaining or regaining
health should not as a general rule,
ae taken less than two or three hours after a
Heal, except it be some slight exercise, as
noderate walking, riding, etcetera. A person
should always be thoroughly rested, after exjrcise,
before eating. Perhaps the very best
irne of day for taking exercise is from ten to
;welve o'clock in the forenoon, although the
;ime may be varied to suit the person's cone-en
ience?always observing the above rules.?
Herald of Health.
B^TMany a man is rich without money,
rhousands of men with nothing in their pock;ts
are rich. A man born with a good sound
? nnnA cf-nmnoVi fl crnnci hp;irt.
^UllCtltUllUUj M gvuu UIV/ujmvu| M Q ? J
jood lirabs, and a pretty good head-piece, is
rich. Good bones are better than gold; tough
nuscles better than silver; and nerves that
lash fire aud carry energy in every function
ire better than houses or land. It is better
;han a landed estate to have the right hand
)f father or mother. Good breeds and bad
jreeds exist among men as really as among
lerds and horses. Education may do much
,o check bad tendencies or to develop good
>nes ; but it is a greater thing to inherit the
ight proportion of faculties to start with.
The man is rich who has a good disposition?
vho is naturally kind, patient, cheerful and
lopeful.
Notes on Dull Times.?To cure dull
imes?apply an advertisement to the afflicted
Dart.
A sign-board can't tell anything. It takes
in advertisement to do that.
All who advertise do not get rich, but pre:ious
few eet rich without it.
o # #
The world is full of advertising, yet every
>ne wants to see what is new.
The world's memory is short. It will for;et
if you do not jog it frequently.
Early to bed and early to rise, will all be
n vain if you don't advertise.
The world is sure to find an honest man ;
>ut it will find him out a great deal quicker,
f he advertises.
Man's Dependence upon Woman.?Man
elies far more than he is aware for comfort
iud happiness on woman's tact and managenent.
He is so accustomed to these that he
s unconscious of their worth. They are so
lelicately concealed, and yet so ceaselessly
xercised, that he enjoys their effect as he euoys
the light and atmosphere. He seldom
hinks how it would be with him were they
nthdrawn. He fails to appreciate what is so
reely given. He may be reminded of them
ow and then ; he may complain of intrusion
rinterference; but the frown is smoothed
wftv hv the orenfle hnnd. end the murmurincr
;** "j " b?? J o
ips are stopped with a caress and the n<augement
goes on.?Exchange.
Licmon for a Cough.?Roast the lemon
ery carefully without burning it; when it is
horoughly hot, cut and squeeze into a cup
pon three ounces of sugar finely powdered,
'ake a spoonful whenever your cough troubles
ou. It is good and agreeable to the taste,
tarely has it been known to fail of giving
elief.