Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, December 08, 1881, Image 1
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VOL. 27. YORKYTLLB, S. C., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1881. 3STO. 49.
^elected ftretw.
A LITTLE ELBOW ROOM.
Good morning, don't crowd so very tight,
There's room enough for two;
Keep in your mind that I've a right
To live as well as you.
You're rich and strong, I poor and weak ;
But think vou I presume,
When only this poor boon I ask?
A little elbow room?
'Tis such as you, the rich and strong,
If you had but the will,
Could give the weak a lift along,
And help him up the hill.
But no?you jostle, crowd and drive,
You storm you fret and fume;
Are you the only man alivo
In wantof elhow room?
But thus it is on life's rough path,
Self seems the god ot all;
The strong will crush the weak to death ;
The big devour the small.
Far better to be a rich man's hound?
A valet, serf or groom,
Than struggle with the mass around,
When we've no elbow room.
Up heart, my boy, don't mind the shocks,
Up heart and pass along!
Your skin will soou grow tough with knocks,
Your limbs with labor strong.
And there's a band unseen to aid,
A star to light the gloomUp
heart, my boy, nor be afraid,
Strike out for elbow room.
In struggling on with might and main,
An altered, better man.
Grow wise with many a by-gone pain
And many a broken plaii?
Though bruised by many a luckless fall,
Ana blinded by "the gloom,
I'll up aud soon redeem it ailBut
give me elbow room.
Ihc mm idler.
ADVENTURE IN A GAMING HOUSE.
It was in the Spring of 18? that I found
myself gliding upon the waters of the mighty
Mississippi, and bound for the Crescent City?
New Orleans.
With a single exception, I had formed no
traveling acquaintances on hoard the boat,
although I had been nearly two days upon
my journey, which was becoming somewhat
monotonous. The individual with whom I,
singularly enough, fraternized, seemed, like
myself, to have but little inclination to extend
his acquaintance among the passengers,
though he seemed to be constantly upon the
lookout for some one, and from the close
manner in which he regarded the operations
of two or three individuals, whose profuse
display of vest chains and jewelry, and proficiency.with
cards at the tables in the saloon,
betrayed their profession, I more than once
set him down as some sort of a police detective
in disguise.
He called himself George Thorn, of Kentucky
; so his card read, which he gave me
in exchange for mine. In truth he was a
noble specimen of the Blue Grass State.
Full six feet in height, a clear intelligent
blue eye, broad forehead, and light curly hair,
muscular arms, and the chest of a Hercules,
he challenged the admiration of more than
one of the passengers, as, v/ith his serious
aod never smiling face, he paced the promenade
deck, or sat apparently buried in thought
. in the saloon.
"Do you never play at cards ?" said I to
him, as he left a group that were standing
about a table of four players, and noting
the progress of the game. I had frequently
seen him invited, but he invariably, like myself,
refused to participate in the game.
"Oh! yes," said he ; "but where is the use
of playing here. Those fellows (nodding towards
the players) can tell every card in the
pack by the backs, and they are trying hard
to pluck some poor pigeon irom among tne
passengers, but with indifferent success. Beware
of them, sir."
I thanked him for his friendly warning,
and at the same time expressed my astonishment
at his affirmation. To convince me of
the truth of it, he called the steward of the
boat, and ordered him to brir.g a fresh pack
of cards, which were brought, and he handed
the pack to me, bidding me to shuffle them.
I did so, when he immediately selected nearly
every ace and king from the pack without
looking at the face of them. Next he dealt
them in two parcels, one to me and one to
himself, when, upon examination, I found
that the cards of real value in the game
were in his hand, and I could not detect the
least unfairness as he dealt them.
"You see," said he, smilingly, at my look
of astonishment, "the advantage an expert in
these matters has over even a skillful player."
"I do, indeed," I replied, astonished at ray
fellow traveler's dexterity, ancl beginning.to
think he might be a reformed gambler, or
"playing possum" for some purpose or other;
but, as he did not urge, or even invite me to
play, nor had played with any one else, and
threw the cards aside with an expression of
* ? - . lx t i r x _ I
disgust 100 natural to oe assunieu, 1 came iu
the conclusion that my suspicions were unjust,
and my traveling acquE.intance was a
riddle yet to be solved.
Early the next morning the boat arrived
at New Orleans, and, amid the hurry and
bustle of debarkation, I lost my friend the
Kentuckian, not even seeing hi m to bid adieu.
That same evening, hovever, after visiting
the theatre, I was enjoying the cool air and a
fragrant Havana, in the rotunda of the St.
Charles Hotel, and conversing with a friend
from the North, whom I had fortunately met, I
when whom should I encounter but iny
steamboat acquaintance ?
After the usual greeting, our conversation
turned upou our trip down the river, our fellow
passengers, <fcc., when ray fellow traveler j
remarked that if I would like to witness the
interior of a gambling house, or "hell," as
it is sometimes more appropriately called, he
would be pleased to show it to us as one of1
the sights or "lions" of the city. Never hav- j
ing witnessed anything of the kind, both I j
and my friend assented, and after a short'
walk, found ourselves within the precincts of!
one of those glittering and gorgeously furnished
establishments?vestibules to the infernal
regions?where men are engaged in various
games of hazard.
The interior of a gambling house has been
too frequently described to need repetition.
The Faro Bank with its crowd of betters, the
Iiouge et Noir table with its anxious circle, and
groups of players at other games of which I
was iguoraut of the name, were all busily engaged
as we entered. We had passed through
two apartments, and reached a third, in which
were but four players, playing in pairs at different
tables. As we entered, we sat down at
an unoccupied table for a moment, when as
we did so, we heard one of the two men nearest
us say to his opponent?
"Thai's the last dollar. Luck is yours, and
I'm cleaned out."
"But you wear a good riDg," said his opponent.
"See ! I will give you a chance for revenge.
I'll back my riug against yours on
the bext game. It's a ring I won at play
from a Kentucky boy that came to New Orleans
to see the sights," said he carelessly.
How little did he know that those words so
lightly spoken, had sealed his doom.
"No!" said his opponent, rising "I'll meet
you to-morrow night. I won't pledge my
jewelry yet."
As the player who was sitting with his
back partially turned towards us, mentioned
Kentucky in bis conversation, I saw Thorn
listen with eagerness, and as he twisted the
ring he offered to bet upon his finger, I saw
the Kentuckian turn deadly pale. His eyes
glowed like fire for an instant, then his countenance
again resumed its usual calm and
placid look?and, to our amazement, he rose,
and walked across the apartment to the player,
who had just been left by his companion,
I courteously proposed to try a hand or two
| with him if agreeable, if we, his friends,
would excuse him for a short time, ur course
we assented. So did the gambler, who appeared
at first somewhat surprised at the
proposition, but probably resolved to try his
skill upon the new comer.
The cards were dealt, and the game proceeded.
We were sufficiently near to see
that the piece of gold which constituted the
first stake was won by our friend's opponent;
so, also, was the second. The third stake
Thorn gained. And thus they went on alternately
winning and losing, till at last
Thorn careleesiy observed :
"That's a pretty ring you offered to bet a
while ago, stranger. Will you sell it ?"
"Well, as to that," said the other, "it's
pretty enough and cost me enough?for a
young fellow pledged it to me some three
years ago as a sort of note of hand, which he
promised to redeem with five hundred dollars
that he owed me?a debt of honor, sir?
but he never paid it; so I retain the ring.
No, stranger, I guess I won't sell it."
"But the owner ? You should have made
him pay. Five hundred dollars is a dear
price for such a bauble."
"Why, as to that," said the player, as he
gathered up his cards for the next hand, "he
couldn't come to time very well, for he 'paid
the debt of nature,' as they say, the same
night, and that cancelled :ny obligation. Ah!
the stake's mine?there's always luck in this
ring, sir, I believe," said he, as he drew the
money towards him. "Suppose we try a
larger stake ;" and he prepared to shuffle the
cards again.
"As you like," said Thorn.
"Well, what shall it be?" ?aid his opponent,
"anything from one to five hundred ?"
and be threw a bank note of that denomination
carelessly, as if in bravado, upon the table.
To our surprise Thorn drew a wallet from
his pocket, and produced an equal amount of
money. Then sweeping the cards they had
been using from the table to the floor, he
called for a fresh pack, and passing them,
as the attendant brought them to him rapidly
through his hand, he gave them to his adversary,
remarkiug to him as he did so, to
"mind his deal this time," fixing upon him
a searching glauce as he went through that
operation. The game was that known as
"bluff*," or "poker"?I know not which ; but
at any rate one on which the players bet upon
the cards they hold. Thorn and his opponent
having each glanced at their cards,
commenced the game.
"T'll ' I ? oni/J
A 11 gu JUU UUC UUUUACU, OOIU 111v1u,
commencing.
"Two hundred better than that," said his
opponent.
"Another hundred," continued Thorn.
"H'm'm ! three hundred better!" sai^ the
gambler, producing the notes from bis pocket
book.
"Three hundred more," said Thorn, quietly.
The game was getting exciting to us as
spectators. Three thousand dollars lay upon
the table to be decided by the cards held by
the players, each of whom seemed from his
bets to be confident of success, though their
countenances betrayed not the least emotion.
"One hundred more," said the gambler,
again.
"I call you," said Thorn.
"Ah ! Three kings and an ace !" said the
sharper, triumphantly.
"Three aces and a king !" said Thorn,
quietly, as he displayed his own cards, and
with his eyes fixed steadily upon his opponent
folded up the money and crammed it into his
pocket.
"Fortune favors you," said the gambler,
stoically, too well schooled to betray any emotion
or chagrin at the result.
"So it seems," said the other.
"But I hope to meet you again, sir ; for I
must have my revenge after so heavy a run
of luck as this," said Thorn's opponent;
"and I have no doubt your friends will join
us in a social sit-down, for if you are as good
at cracking a bottle, singing a song, or telling
a story, as holding a hand at cards, those
offl otsmiv* Frior?rJa o*?o nolo "
nuu ai t j vu4 11 ivuuo ?tv tut ?uuhvv?
"I must confess," said Thorn, "that I am
not of a convivial or musical turn, though I
can occasionally tell a good story. I have a
little history, now, sir, upon my tongue's end,
that will be of uncommon interest to you."
"To me ! Pray tell it," said the gamester,
with a laugh. "It will be a good wind-up for
the evening's entertainment."
It was now long past midnight. Absorbed
in the excitement of the game, we had scarcely
noticed the flight of time, or that the
adjoining rooms were now nearly deserted by
their occupants, and that the two other players,
at the other end of the apartment in
which we were, Lad finished their own game
long since, and been spectators of that between
Thorn and his opponent, and were now
apparently interested listeners.
"About three years since," began Thorn,
"a young man in Kentucky, the confidential
agent of a large business firm, was entrusted
with a sum of money and commissioned to
transact some business in New Orleans. It
was his first visit to that city. He started
hanov. leaving behind him a vountr wife and
O ?r c?
lovely infant. Unfortunately, upon one of
the Mississippi boats, or immediately upon
his arrival at New Orleans, he fell in with a
professional man?a man of play, I mean?
you understand?"
The gambler nodded, and Thorn continued
:
"By the management of this 'prosessional,'
the young man was enticed to a 'hell,' induced
to play, plied with wiue stripped of his
money. In short to use a 'professional' word,
! 'plucked'?"
"Ha! ha ! the old story," said the gambler,
, "the fate of pigeous."
"But I have not finished. That which
most interests you is yet to come."
j "Indeed ! Go on."
"The young man was perfectly sobered by
j his loss. He returned to his hotel; stung
! with remorse and half crazy with exciteraeut,
j he placed a pistol to his head and blew out
; his brains, leaving a tarnished name as an in:
heritence for his wife and innocent child."
"But what is all this to me?" said the
gambler, now pale as ashes beneath the flashj
ing eye of the speaker. "Is it a moral lesson
I you're about to read here, or a sermon you
! have to preach ?"
"What is it to you !" continued Thorn, his
j voice quivering with excitement. "Ah ! I'll
tell you what it is to you. This meetiug of
you and me to night, which for three long
years I have sought, is not mere chauce.
The hand of Heaven is in it. 'Twas three
years ago this very night, ay, this very hour,"
said he, glancing at his watch, "that the young
man I spoke of rushed madly into euternity.
Not by his owi hand, but his opponent at
the card table 3 he that should be accountable
for that de< i of blood?the amount of
money he lost was just the amount I have
won this night from you?that very ring upon
your finger is his! i am his brother ; you
are his assassin!"
Thorn pronounced these words in a firm,
clear, ringing voice, and as he concluded,
brought his hand down with a blow upon the
table at which they were sitting, which was
instantly overturned, as he and his opponent
started simultaneously to their feet. They
were soarcely six paces apart after springing
from their chairs, aud both drew their weapons
as they rose.
"Die! liar !" shouted the gambler, discharging
his weapon the moment he gained
his feet. The bullet ripped open Thorn's
waistcoat, and his watch dew in fragments
from the pocket, dangling by its chain. At
the same moment his arm, which was slowly
rising, became rigid as that of a statue. The
pistol he held exploded, and the gambler
fell back a corpse upon the carpet. This all
passed so suddenly, ere we could interfere,
that we stood as if almost paralyzed for an
instant, while the servants alarmed by the
noise, and the police, came rushing into the
apartment.
Thorn quietly surrendered himself, merely
turning to us and the the other two who were
in the room, saying, as he did so, "Gentlemen,
bear witness 1 fired in self defense, and
that I received that villain's first fire here;"
and he pointed to his shattered watch with
a smile, and turning left the room with the
officers.
He was tried and acquitted, as it was clearly
proved that his adversary fired upon him
first. The fact of the gambler being a notorious
rascal, whom the community could
well afford to spare, might have had some
influence with the jury.
I have never met Thorn since, but the
recollection of that fearful scene is yet fresh
and vivid in my mind, though many years
have passed since it was enacted.
IpKettmuiiMi ftratUttg.
"UNCLE SAYS."
[We wish our young friends, especially the
boys, would read the following many times
over, and never forget the wisdom that it
contains.]
My uncle is a woodman ; he is now getting
an old man. Some people say he is cross;
but I do not think so. Trouble and toil
may give to his face a thoughtful look sometimes
; but 1 know he has a kind heart. Of
oue thing I am certain, he has got a wise
head. Meet him whenever I may,, he has always
something to say. If you would like
to hear of some of his sayings, I will write
down some of- them for you.
One day I saw him with an axe in his
hand, standing by a branch he had just cut
from the old oak tree, when he began :
If you set a thistle seed, there will spring
up not oue or two thistles from it, but twenty
or thirty; and it will be just the same if I set
one sin. One sin, he says, has been known
to bring forth a hundred more. The farmer
ought to take care that no thistle seeds are
sown on his land ; and you ought to take care
that no sins are bowd in your heart.
Uncle says that a boy seldom looks forward
unless it is to a holiday; when he is
well, he seldom dreams of beine sick : when
he has money, he thinks it will last him for
weeks; and when the sun shines, he almost
expects it to shine forever: but he says we
should be ready to endure patiently, as well
as to enjoy gratefully. "Shall-we receive
good at the hand of God, and shall we not
receive evil ?" (Job ii. 10.) *
Uncle says that if the traveler once leaves
the turn-pike road in a part of the country
that he does not know, he may wander about
in lanes the whole of the day, and when
night cornea get stuck in a bog at last; and
that if I venture to wander away from the
path of duty, I may lose myself in the crossroads
of error and vice all my days, and at
last fall into the pit of destruction. It would
be unwise in a traveler to quit the toll-gate
road, when, in doing so, he runs such a risk ;
and it would be very weak and very wicked
for me to quit duty's path when my risk is a
thousand times greater.
Uncle says he had rather read the Bible,
and never look at any other book, than read
every other book in the world, and never
look at the Bible ; for this reason : Other
books are the books of men, but the Bible is
the book of God ; and as man's knowledge is
but ignorance when compared with God's
knowledge, so the wisdom of all the books of
men is but folly when compared with the
wisdom of the book of God.
Uncle says that a bushel of wheat will
weigh more than two bushels of bran ; and
that a little modesty is worth more than a
great deal of conceit. He says that a boy
who is modest will learn twice as much as
one who is conceited. The modest boy will
always be wiser than he appears, while the
conceited will not know half what he pretends
to understand. I must strive to be modest,
and watch against self-conceit.
Uncle says that it requires more steadiness
and true courage to despise the laugh of a
bad companion, and to say No! when tempted
to do evil, than it does to march ud to a can
noc's mouth. He says huudreds, who are
not afraid of bullets, balls, and bayonets,
have not courage enough to resist the derision
of their thoughtless companions. I will
try my best not to be overcome by a laugh ;
and I will learn, if I can, to say No ! when
asked to do evil.
Uncle says that forgiving an injury is better
than avenging it; and that doing one good
deed is better than intending a hundred. I
wonder if I shall ever be as wise as ray uncle.
He says the first step toward wisdom is
the fear of the Lord, and that the second is
much like it.
Uncle says that, take the year round,
where we have one hour of pain we have ten
of ease, and where we have one misery we
have at least a score of mercies. If this be
true, and I have no reason to doubt it, where
I thank God once, I ought to thank him a
hundred times over.
Uncle says a boy will do more good in one
month by correcting his own errors, than hs
will do in a year by finding out the failinge
of others ; and that he will get more knowledge
by studying his own heart, than by
watching all the people that are around him.
I must examine my heart a little more closely
than I have done, and take more care to correct
my errors.
Uncle says there are a thousand ways to
eternal death, for every sin is a road to destruction
; but that there is only one way to
eternal life, for there has only been offered up
one sacrifice for sin, even our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ, on the cross. If I forget
everything else that my uncle says, I must be
sure not to forget this ; and must ask for the
Holy Spirit of God to convince me of siu,
and lead me to believe in Christ with all my
heart.
Uncle says that the strongest man grows
stronger, the wisest man grows wiser, and the
best man grows better, by often going down
on his knees. If this be the case with a man,
I suppose it must be the case also with a boy.
I remember that the Bible says, "Pray without
ceasiug" "Ask, and ?t shall be given you ;
seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall
be opened unto you."
Uncle says that we cannot do one another
half the mischief with our teeth, that we can
with our tongues; and that we often tie a
knot with our tongues in a minute, that we
cannot untie with our teeth in a year. He
says I ought to repeat these three texts of
Scripture every day of my life: "Whoso
keepeth his mouth and his tongue, keepeth
his soul from troubles(Prov. xxi, 23;)
"Every idle word that man shall speak, they
shall give acconnt thereof in the day of judgment;"
(Matt. xii. 36;) and, "Set a watch, O
Lord, before my mouth ; keep the door of my
lips;" (Psal. cxli.) I must try to do it too.
Uncle says that a rogue robs nobody half
so much as he robs himself; he may deprive
auother of a watch, a gold ring, or a purse
of money; but he deprives himself of his
character, of his peace, of bis liberty, and,
perhaps, of his life. I wish all rogues were
aware of this; for some of them might become
honest. "Honesty," after all, "is the
best policy."
Uncle says that he meets with many who
eat too much, drink too much, and sleep too
much ; but that he has never yet met with one
who prayed too much, read his Bible too
much, or praised God too much. I feel sure
that uncle is right in this, and then I ought
to remember it.
Uncle says that cheerfulness is like a servant
entering a dismal room at night with
two lighted candles; and that melancholy
is like another servant coming with two extinguishers
to put the candles out again.
True piety, he says, should always be cheerful
; for, however bright its prospects may be
in this world, its prospects in the world that
is to come are still brighter.
Uncle says that a Bible, a Sabbath, a house
of prayer, and a throne of grace, are better
than a sceptre, a crown a throne, and a kingdom
; and that he who possesses them, and
makes a good use of them, is much richer
than an ungodly king. Uncle is a good man ;
what he says is for my good; and if I neglect
it, cause enough shall I have to regret it.
Uncle says that when a farmer sows a
field, he scatters the seed freely, because he
knows it will not all come up; and, in like
manner, when he gives me advice, he gives
it me freely, because he knows that I shall
forget a part of it. This is acting very wisely.
However, I will remember as much of it
as I can, and tell all I can remember to my
companions.? Child's Companion.
IJE KIND TO YOUR WIFE.
Be kind to your wife. Think how in the
first blush of maiden beauty she turned aside
from the haunts of pleasure, and the caresses
of fond parents and brothers and sisters, to
follow your fortunes through the world.
Think with what blended hope and agony
you followed her from place to place, watching
her every look, and pondering the meaning
of ber most careless tones, until, won by
your importunity, she placed her hand all
trustfully in yours and said, "I am all your
own." Think of the cares and anxieties, and
the physical suffering she has incurred for
you, and do not desert her now when her
cheek has faded, her step has lost its elasticity,
and she sits an uncomplaining watcher over
n/iap/wputfld nrionn. I
J UUl Utoi Ult^l WIO} U OWII'IUUUA VVt W WVI ^/k twvu
er in her own home. - ~
Merrily the music sounds, young feet trip
lightly in the mazy dance, and joyous laughter
rings along the walls?but she is nol
there; the curtain rises and the far-famed
artiste comes forth to charm the listening
crowd with her melodious song?but she is
not there. The orator rises before his wrapt
audience, his rich deep tones of eloquence
floating away along the crowded passages,
and curling upward as a voiced incense to the
valted roof; but she is not there. Art opens
her new stores and displays her wonderful
creations on the glowing canvas, and in
the speaking bust; your wife is a lover of the
chaste and beautiful, but she is not there;
literature presents new leaves, fresh from the
fascinating pen of genius?the wife and mother
has but little time to read.
No; there she lingers at home, a Godcommissioned
watcher over helpless childhood
; singing the babe to sleep, bending to
catch the lisping voices of those dear ones
who have a thousand imaginary wants, encouraging
the quiet and soothing the fretful.
She is weary, but does not complain, her
temples throb, but she heeds not their throbbing,
as ever and anon she turns a wistful
glance towards the door, for she expects her
husband.
She expects you; and her whole world of
happiness will be there when you arrive.
Will you enter that room with cold indifference?
Will you utter a hasty word in her
presence 7 Will you sit down with that
frown upon your countenance, or complain of
the burdens which you are called to bear ?
Will you thoughtlessly remind her of her
faded beauty, or manifest surprise at her ignorance
of many things now passing in the
great world from which she has been excluded
by her peculiar duties? Will you suffer
the recollection of any face more youthful,
or more beautiful, to haunt you in home's
hallowed precincts, or cross the white leaf of
conjugal fidelity with a single unhallowed
thought? Oh! remember your early love,
year early promises; think bow faithfully she
has kept hers; love her as you ought and she
is still beautiful?beautiful in her pure, motherly
affections, her self-sacrificing devotion to
you. Realize that Bhe is all your own ; that
throughout the wide- world you are sure of
but one heart, whose every chord is linked invisibly
to a counterpart in yours ; realize that
upon her bosom alone you may weep out your
sorrows in the day of trial, without the fear of
being mocked.
Husband, love your wife ! Gather her to
your heart of hearts, as if in her were all
your hopes of happiness combined ; bless her
daily for her patience and truth ; stand up,
like a man, between her and the rude cold
world, and teach your children to honor her,
^ * T 11 iL 1 _
that <jrod may houor you. in an me relations
of life there comes a parting hour ; and
we beseech you so to live that, if it should be
your lot to "kiss her clay-cold lips and lay her
away in the grave forever, you may lay your
hand honestly upon your widowed heart
and say?1 never wronged you /-Olive Branch.
When Stonewall Jackson wa3 Frightened.?The
following anecdote is told by
Governor Jackson of West Virginia :
"I recollect asking "Stonewall," who was
my cousin, if he had ever been frightened in
war. He said yes, once he had been considerably
under a sense of fear. It was in the
City of Mexico. A chest containing a large
sum of money had been put in Lieutenant
Jackson's charge and to be perfectly secure
of it he ordered it to be carried to his headquarters,
in an old abbey or convent, and laid
down there alone to sleep, a sentinel walking
the corridor outside. He had been there in
bed a few minutes, when he distinctly heard
something under his bed, which lifted, it up as
if a man secreted there. Jackson said he
leaped out of bed and drew his sword and examined
the bed and room in vain. Jackson
then supposed he had been possibly dreaming
and resumed his bed. Just as he was thinking
it was all a mistake his bed lifted again,
plainly and with some force. He started
forth a second time, sword in hand, and be
hold! nothiog was there. "This time," said
he, "I was scared, indeed, till my attention
was called to a shouting outside in the street,
and then I found that it was an earthquake
passing under the City of Mexico that had
lifted my bed up and jjiven me such apprehensions."
THE SIN AND FOLLT OF SCOLDING.
1. It is a sin against Ood.?It is evil, and
only evil, and that continually. David understood
human nature and the law of God.
He says, "Fret not thyself in any wise to do
evil. That is, never fret or scold, for it is
always a sin. If you cannot speak without
fretting or scolding keep silence.
2. It destroys affection.?No one ever did,
ever, can, or ever will love an habitual fretter,
faultfinder, or scolder. Husbands, wives,
children, relatives domestics, have no affection
for peevish, fretful, fault finders. Few
. 1 J .1.. ???? ?lw.u
tears urc bijcu uvcr tuc ^iavco ui outu. xvi' ,
sons of high moral principles may tolerate
them?may bear with them. But they cannot
love them more than the sting of nettles,
or the noise of musquitoes. Many a man
has been driven to the tavern, to dissipation,
by a peevish, fretful wife. Many a wife has
been made miserable by a peevish, fretful
husband.
3. It is the bane of domestic happiness.?A
fretful, peevish, complaining, faultfinding
person in a family, is like the continual
chafing of an inflamed sore. Woe to the
man, woman, or child, who is exposed to the
influence of such a temper in another! Ninetenths
of all domestic trials and unhappiness
springs from this source. Mrs. D. is of this
temperament. She wonders her husband is
not more fond of her company; that her
children give her so much trouble; that domestics
do not like to work for her; that she
cannot secure the good will of young people.
The truth is she is peevish and fretful. Children
fear her, and do not love her. She
never yet gained the affections of a young
person, nor ever will, till she leaves off' fretting.
4. It defeats the end of family government.?
Good family government is the blending authority
with affection so as to Becure respect
and love. Indeed this is the great secret of
managiug young people. Now, your fretters
may inspire fear, but they always make two
faults were they correct one. Scolding at
a child, sneering at a child, tauntiDg a child,
treating a child as though it had no feelings,
inspires dread and dislike, and fosters those
very dispositions, from which many of the
faults of childhood proceed. Mr. G. and
Mrs. F. are of this class. Their children are
made to mind?but how? Mrs. F. frets at,
and scolds her children. She is severe enough
upon their faults. She seems to watch them
in order to find fault. She sneers at them.
Treats them as though they had no feelings.
She seldom gives them a command without a
threat, and a long, running, faultfinding commentary.
When she chides, it is not done in
a dignified manner. She raises her voice,
puts on a cross look, threatens, strikes them,
? i - .i i I. ?_ rpi_ _
piDcnes tneir ears, siaps ineir nanus, otc. ine
children cry, pout; sulk, and poor Mrs. F.
has to do her work over pretty often. Then
she will find fault with her husband, because
he does not fall in nith her ways or chime
with her as chorus.
5. Fretting and scolding make hypocrites.?
As a fretter never receives confidence and
affection, so no one likes to tell them anything
disagreeable, and thus procure for
themselves a frettiDg. Now children conceal
as much as they can from such persons.
They cannot make up their minds to be
frank and open-hearted. So husbands conceal
from their wives and wives from their
husband. For man may be brave as a lion,
but he likes not to come in contact with nettles
and musquitoes.
6. It destroys one's peace of mind.?The
more one frets the more he may. A fretter
will always have enough to fret at. Especially
if he or she has the bump of order and
neatness largely developed. Something will
always be out of place. There will always
be some dirt somewhere. One will not eat
right, look right, talk right; he will not do
these things so as to please them. And fret
lers are geuciajijr cu dciiidu as w imrc uu n*gard
for any one's comfort but their own.
7. It is a mark of a vulgar disposition.?
Some persons have so much gall in their disposition,
are so selfish, that they have no re
gard for the feelings of others. All things
must be done to please them. They make
their husbands, wives, children, domestics,
the conductors by which their spleen and ill
nature are discharged. Woe to the children
who are exposed to such influences! It
makes them callous and unfeeling, and when
they grow up they pursue the same course
with their own children, or those entrusted
to their management; and thus the race of
fretters is perpetuated. Any person who is
in the habit of fretting at their husbands,
wives, children or domestics, shows either a
bad disposition, or else ill-breeding ; for it is
generally your ignoraut, low bred people that
are guilty of such things.
?
TELL YOUR WIFE.
"Yes, the only way is, to tell your wife
just how you stand. Show her your balance
sheet. Let her look over the items. You
think it will hurt her feelings. No, it will
not any such thing. She has been taught to
believe that money was with you, just as little
boys think it is with their fathers?terribly
bard to be reached, yet inexhaustible.
She has had her suspicions already. She
has guessed you were not so prosperous as
you talked. But you have so befogged your
money ati'airs that she, poor ining i knows
nothing about them. Tell it right to her,
that you are living outside of your income.
Take her into partnership, and I'll warrant
you'll never regret it. There may be a slight
shower at first, but that's natural.
Let her see your estimate; when you come
home again she will show you that you have
put her bills too high. True she had rather
a costly bonnet last winter, but it is "just as
good as ever; a few shillings will provide it
with new strings and refit it a little?the
shape, she says, is almost exactly as they
wear them now." And you will be surprised
to see how much less expensive she can make
your wardrobe. She will surprise you with
a new vest?not exactly familiar, somehow,
looking as if another shape you had seen it
before?yet new as a vest, and scarcely costing
a dollar where you had allowed five.
Old cravats will experience a renovation
in her hands, coming out so rejuvinated, that
nobody but those who are let into the secret
would suspect that they are old friends in
new shapes. The dressing gown that you
were going to buy-out of what forgotten
chest she has gathered the material you cannot
imagine?but there it is comfortable and
warm, and just the thing you wanfed for the
long winter evenings that are coming on as
fast as the almauac will let them.
You will find a wonderful change in her
tastes and appetite. Whereas, she always
fancied what was a little out of season, or
just coming into market?now if beef is dear,
she thiuks boiled mutton is delightful?as
tender as chicken. If lambs rise, and fish
are plenty, she thinks a striped bass, or a
fried sole good occasionally.
Before you have thought much about it,
you find yourself spending most of your even
ing8 too, bo full of domestic enjoyment and
fireside pleasures, that you will look witb
wonder on the record of last year's expenses,
and marvel that you found time or relish foi
the costly entertainments that seriously taxed
your pocket. If, too, like many, your outgoes
threaten to exceed your incomes, be sure
and tell your wife of it. Not in a tone or
manner that will lead her to think you don't
want her to buy what is really necessary for
winter, but just as if you wanted a counsellor
in the day of your trouble. And if she does
not come up, heart and soul, and most successfully,
to your relief put me down for no
prophet.
DO IT YOURSELVES, BOYS.
Do not ask, the teacher, or some class-mate
to solve that hard problem. Do it yourselves.
You might as well ask them to eat your dinner,
as "do your sums" for you. It is in
studying as in eating; he that does it gets the
benefit and not he that sees it done. In
almost any school I would give more for what
the teacher ler.rns than for what the best
scholar learns, simply because the teacher
is compelled to solve all the hard problems
for them and tinswer the questions of the
lazy boys. Do not ask him to parse all the
difficult words or assist you in the performance
of any of your duties. Do it yourselves.
Never mind though they look as
dark as Egypt. Don't ask even a hint from
anybody. Try again. Every trial increases
your ability, and you will finally succeed by
diut of the very wisdom and strength gained
in this effort, even though at first the problem
was beyond your skill. It is the study
and not the answer that really rewards your
pains.
Look at that boy who after six hours of
hard study, perhaps, how his large eye is lit
up with a proud joy, as he marches to his
class. He reads like a conqueror and well
he may. Last night his lamp burned late;
and this morning he waked at dawn. Once
or twice he nearly gave up. He had tried
his last thought, but a new thought strikes him
as he ponders the last progress. He tries
once more and succeeds; and now mark the
air of conscious strength with which he pronounces
his demonstration. His poor, weak
school mate, who gave up that same problem
after the first faint trial, now looks up to him
with something of wonder, as a superior.
That problem lies there, a great gulf between
those boys who stood yesterday side by side.
They will never stand together as equals
again. The boy that did it for himBelf has
taken a stride upward, and what is better
still, gained strength to take other and greater
ones. The boy who waited to see others
do it,-has lost both strength and courage, and
is already looking for some good excuse to
give up school and study forever.
Watch Your Neighbors.?-Take care of
them. Don't let them stir without watching.
They may do something wrong if you do.
To be sure you never knew them to do anything
very bad, but it may be on your account
they have not. Perhaps, if it had not
been for your kind care they might have disgraced
themselves and families a long time
ago. Therefore don't relax any effort to keep
them where they ought to be ; never mind
your own business, that will take care of itself.
There is a man passing along?there he
is looking over the fence into his neighbor's
garden, be suspicious of him, perhaps he
qontemplates stealing something some of these
dark nights ; there is no knowing what queer
fancies he may have got into his head. If
i ~c
yuu ace nuy Bjiupiuma ui auy uue pnoaiug
out of the path of rectitude, speak to some
individual about it, and tell every one else
you see, but be particular and see a great
many.
It is a good way to circulate such things,
and though it may not benefit yourself, or
any one else particularly, it will be something
equally important about some one else.
Do keep something going?silence is a dreadful
thing, though it is said there was silence
in the Courts of Heaven for the space of
half an hour, don't let any such thing occur
on earth ; it would be too much like Heaven
for the inhabitants of this mundane sphere.
If, after all your watchful care, you can't see
anything out of the way in any one, you may
be aure it is not because they have not done
anything bad ; perhaps in an unguarded moment,
you lost sight of them?throw out hints
they are no better thdn they should be?that
you should not wonder if people found out
what they were after a while, and then they
may not carry their heads so high. K^ep it
a going and some one will take the hint, and
begin to help you after a while?then there
will be music and everything will work to a
charm.
Marriage.?Some marry for love; others
wed for money; some to escape an uncomfortable
home ; some to keep their carriage;
some for rank ; and some from carelessness.
None of these are legitimate motives; none
of them likely to produce happiness. But
there is a feeling which requires worth to
satisfy it, and experience of that worth to fix
it, which is irrespective of age, or time, or
even sex, which seeks for one love and spirit
for its minister, and only asks for one, which
united Jonathan to David : "For Jonathan's
soul was knit unto the soul of David, and
Jonathan loved David as his own soul." Attachment,
adhesiveness or affection are the
synonymous terms which describe this feeling,
and friendship is the result. Most men
have but few friends; many have none. Lord
Byron had but one, and that was a dog. Happy
were we all, if in choosing a partner for
life, we were to take care that, although there
must be diffeences, there should be no discrepancies;
although opinions might vary, they
should never clash; that high pride should not
be united to the lowly in spirit, nor great purity
to the offensive or the vicious; that mean
selfishness should never chain down into per
peiuai cuuipnuiuuaiiip tuts gcuciuua ui tun
just; nor that the deceitful and the false
should destroy the happiness of the noble
and the true. Let not the quick unite himself
to the sulky or the dunce. Let not the
delicate and the pure defile itself by contact
with the vulgar and the gross; and then, if
care be taken by both, each will come to
each with an ability and a desire to comfort
one another.
?
The Folly of Mankind.?-There is a
dreadful ambition abroad for being "genteel."
We keep up appearances too often at the expense
of honesty ; and though we may not be
rich, yet we must seem to be "respectable,"
though only in the meanest sense?in mere
vulgar show. We have not the courage to
go patiently onward in the condition of life in
which it has pleased God to call us ; but
must needs live iu some fashionable state, to
which we ridiculously please to call ourselves,
and all to gratify the vanity of that unsubstantial,
genteel world of which we form a
part. There iB a constant struggle and pressure
for front seats in the amphitheatre ; in
the midst of which all noble, self denying resolve
is trodden down, and many fine natures
are inevitably crushed to death. What
waste, what misery, what bankruptcy, come
from all this ambition to dazzle others with
the glare of apparent worldly success, we
need not describe. The mischievous results
show themselves in a thousand ways?in the
I rank frauds committed by men who dare to
i be dishonest, but do not dare to seem poor ;
, and in the desperate dashes at fortune, in
* which the pity is not so much for those who
i fail, as for the hundreds of innocent families
who are so often involved in their ruin.
t
Devil.?The imitative propensities of
; Young America are quite equal to thos s of
the monkey tribe. A friend furnishes us
with the following as the last illustration:
1 Johnny, a three year old, was at dinner
with the rest of the family, which included an
aunt on a visit
"Aunt Ellen," asked the hopeful Johnny,
"do you ever say devil ?"
"Why, no, Johnny, what makes you ask
such a question ?" replied the lady.
"Because pa says so. Pa, what made vou
say devil the other day, when you was looking
for the hammer and couldn't find it ?"
"Ob," said pa, rather cornered, "did I ?
Well, so as to find it easier, I suppose."
Here the discussion ended, the explanation
being considered as good as could be
given under the circumstances, but Johnny's
retentive memory treasured it'up.
A few*days afterwards, Johnny's cap, as
little caps will do, got somehow out of its
place, and Johnny forgot where he left it.
His mother told him to look till he found it.
Off he started, up stairs and down stairs,
and sooA his treble voice rang through the
halls, crying out, "devil 1 devil ! DEVIL !"
"John, my son," called out his frightened
mother, "what in the world do you mean by
using that wicked word ?"
"So as to find ray cap easy 1" cried, John.
"Pa says devil when he can't find things,
don't he ma ?"
The force of example could not farther go,
and the anxious mother had to negotiate
with Johnny's father to be more select in
bis use of words in the presence of his children.
A Stalwart Administration.?There is
now a Stalwart revel in Washington. The
men who lisped the praises of Garfield when
he came into power, and the men who Bpofce
of his sufferings and probable death with
tremulous voice, are not heard in the hotels,
or on the streets, or in the departments. His
sun has set, and the fitful worshipers of the
no r\i f n 1 1*7 V> r\ lin vtA nonioA m /mtaww ?hi1aw aP +ViA
bap?bai nuu uavc |Jiaiou i\jI cvcijr iuici vi biiv
present, and contempt for every ruler of the
past, now speak of Arthur as the Saviour of the
parly ; the statesman of the age; the candidate
of 1884. Biaine is about to retire to
his quiet home in the Pine Tree State. Windorn
has gone and is now his own successor in
the Senate. MacVeagh has gone amidst the
jeers of the now triumphant public plunderers
he had the courage to grapple with while
supported by the President. James is limited
to the New Year, when he will give place to
his Stalwart successor. Hunt and Kirkwocd
will be unknown in and about the Administration
twenty days hence, and it is now probable
that even Lincoln will not survive the
general wreck of the policy upon which Garfield
laid the foundation of his administration. *
In the selection of the successors of the Garfield
Cabinet, no Garfield man will apply.
Democrats will be generously considered by
the new Administration jwhen necessary, but
the Garfield Republican will ever be a stranger
to the favor of the Arthur reign.?A. K.
McClure, tn Philadelphia Times.
Gum Arabic.?In Morocco, about ti e
mirfrlla nf XTnirnmKnr iViof ia offnw fVia rolnw
UJiUUtV Vt JLWTVIUUV1| kUUV IQj HlbVI VIIV 1UIUJ
8eaeon, which begins in July, a gummy juice
exudes spontaneously from the trunk and
branches of the acacia tree. In about fifteen
days it thickens in the furrow down which it
runs, in a vermicular (or worm) shape, or
commonly assuming the form of oval or
round tears, about the size of a pigeon's, egg,
of different colors, as they belong to the red
or white gum tree. About the middle of December
the Moors encamp on the borders of
the forest and the harvest lasts six weeks.
The gum is packed in very large sacks of
leather, and brought on the backs of bullocks
and camels to certain ports, where it is sold to
English and French merchants. The gum is
highly nutritious. During the whole time of
harvest, of the journey to the ports, the Moors
of the desert live almost entirely upon it;
and experience has proved that six ounces of
gum are sufficient for the support of a man
for twenty-four hours.
?
Would Not be Fooled With.?We
learn, says the Milton (N. C.) Chronicle, that
the clerk of the store in Concord, in Person
county, was shot a few nights ago by his
younger brother in mistake for some one trying
to break into the store. The particulars, as
narrated to us, are: The clerk had been off
(probably courting) and had left his little
brother in care of the store. Returning in
the night and finding the store closed and
the boy retired to bed, he thought, as we
suppose, that be would have some fun out of
the lad by making him believe some one outside
was trying to break in. So he made a
noise at the window-shutter as if trying to
open it, which aroused the boy, and then ho
went to the door and pretended to be trying
to open it. The boy, in the meantime, didn't
scare worth a cent, and armed with a pistol,
he crept to the door, and poking the mouth
of the pistol at an opening at the bottom
svX* ill a /in AM i* a cma/1 am/) nil i /* ua 11 in
vi uio uuur, no ijxcu buu pui> a uan iu tuu
clerk's leg.
Soft Beds.?There are differences of opinion
in regard to the best beds for refreshing
sleep, some persons advocating soft and somo
hard beds. The difference between them is
that the weight of a body on a soft bed presses
on a larger surface than upon a hard bed,
and consequently more comfort is enjoyed..
Hard beds should never be given to little
children, and parents who suppose that such
beds contribute to health by hardening and
developing the constitution are surely in error.
Eminent physicians, both here and in
England, concur in this opinion, and state
that hard beds often prove injurious to the
shape of infants. Birds and animals cover
their offspring with the softest materials they
' can obtain, and also make soft beds for them,
and softness of a bed is not evidence of its
being unwholesome. But if it is not kept
sweet and clean by daily airings and frequent
beatings, whether it is bard or soft, it is surely
injurious to health.
A Mild Winter Predicted.?The following
forecast of the weather for the coming winter
was prepared by Geo. H. Twiss, for the Tyndall
Association. He has made similar predictions
for the past six years and read before
this Association, and his forecasts have
generally been verified by the facts :
The winter will be the mildest since the
winter of 1875-6, but the average temperature
will be a little below that of that winter.
The length of the winter will be from si*
weeks to two months shorter than last year,
the severe weather commencing about January
1, and closing early in March. The winter
will be characterized by sudden sharp changes.
The thermometer will likely touch a lower
point than at any time last winter, but the
general average of the temperature will be
much higher. A severe cold dip may be expected
beiween December 28 and January 10.
There will be little snow and sleighing.
A