University of South Carolina Libraries
lewis m. grist, Proprietor. J 21 it Jittbfpfitbtnf dfainilj) fltksjjajw: Jor l|e |jroinofion: of iljf ^political, Jsotial, Iljritulimal nib Commtnial Jittnsfs of Ik Soiiij). | TERMS?$2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 29. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1883. NO. 7. ^elected farttg. ENDURANCE. Tis bitter to endure the wrong Which evil hands and tongue commit; The bold encroachments of the strong, The shafts of calumny and wit; The scornful bearing of the proud, The sneers and laughter of the crowd. And harder still is it to bear The censure of the good and wise, Who, ignorant of what you are, Or blinded by the slanderer's lies, Look coldly on, or pass you by In silence, with averted "eve. But when the friends in whom you trust, As steadfast as the mountain rock, Flv, and are scattered like the dust, before misfortune's whirlwind shock, Xor love remains to cheer your fall, This is more terrible than all. Bpt even this, and these?aye ! more? Can be endured, and hope survive ; The noble spirit still may soar, Although the body fail to thrive, ' - 1 1 tVu nin Disease una wuiu uinv ?c.n ..... .......^ , Thank God the soul is still the same. Hold up your head, then, man of grief, Nor longer to the tempest bend ; Or soon or late must come relief? The eoldest, darkest night will end, Hope in the true heart never dies ! Trust on ! the day star yet shall rise. Conscious of purity and worth, You may, with calm assurance, wait The tardy recompense of earth ; And e'en should justice come too late To sooth the spirit's homeward flight, Still Heaven, at last, the wrong shall right. Ihe jgforg "IT."- " A GERMAN PRIZE STORY. [The original of the following is a prize story written for the Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung. There were 750 contributions handed in, and of these Mr. Roberts' "It" took the first prize, :500 florins. The judges were some of.the most enlightened men of German literature?Bauerfeld, Laabe, Gross and several others. The author is Freiherrn V. Roberts.] Returning from a business trip, I entered my wife's boudoir and found her kneeling l>efore a low chai?, on which sat a boy baby with large, round and wondering eyes. She got up and came rustling in her silken robe de chambre to meet me. She reached out her hand and greeted me not more heartily nor yet more formally than we were accustomed to greet each other in those days. "There it is," said my wife, pointing to the child. "What?" asked I. But she stooped down befor the little stranger, held a biscuit to its upturned face, and, half turning toward me, replied: . "Well, you know?did we not read of it in the newspaper ? Don't you remember?the day before yesterday ? And is it not beautiful?" Now I did recollect that a few nights before she held a Gazette under the light of my student lamp, and, pointing with finger to an advertisement, said to me, "Please read that." It was the well-known appeal, the cry of despair from a bleeding heart address' 1 1.. ? A ..1.51.1 eu to "goou peopitv n unm w.,vw. for adoption to persons well off. "What would you think of our taking it ?" my wife had said, and I had returned the paper to her with a shrug of my shoulders. "But, Martha, what have you done?" cried I, in a tone vibrating with anger. "You have really " "Certainly, as you see. And then it belongs to me; I myself have settled everything with the poor mother, who is in reality to be pitied. I have sworn to take good wire of it; and so I will indeed." She took the little head, with its blonde, silk curls, between her white hands, anil fondled and caressed it. "Is it not so, little one ??you will be loved ?" But the somewhat sickly and delicate little face showed no signs of understanding, except that out of the heart-shaped little mouth came one of those sighs that sound so strangely from children. I at once gave up all serious objection. Had we not been accustomed for years to act independently for each other ? Our marriage was not a very happy one, although we had not married for love. During the noise and bustle of the crowded Exchange our fathers had contracted this union. Slie had to tear her heart from a beloved one, and in mine had glowed a "passion not yet outspoken." But parental wishes conquered. \V e chose to be obedient children; and so it happened. A* Ilia /laimnaniianiont U'fi Wprp to PJK'll XXV V\/UtJllVUVV4<4V?*V ?t x/ T. v. v other a silent reproach ; after which followed a declared war, until, finally, we came to a polite but gloomy peace. To be sure, she was beautiful?she was good and bright and sparkling. Others called her an angel. And I ? Well, I believe I was no monster, either. The analysis showed the brightest colors; still, the sun was missing. \Ve were six years married and had no children. Perhaps had Heaven sent us them? Well, this child belonged entirely to her. I heard later that she had given $1,000, the price of a set of jewels which she had sold secretly. "Why did you not tell me of it?" I said, half angrily/ "Because it would have been too late if I had waited for your return tothecity; and, besides, I wanted to have it entirely for myself; I want to call it my own," she said, poutingly. My horses, my dogs; her canaries, her gold-fishes?1 could endure that; but that she wanted to have her child to herself alone, that was too much for me. The thought of it tortured me one, two days long. On the . third day, my wife had gone out in her carriage ; there came a veiled woman and demanded entrance. It was the mother. Like a shadow she glided into the room, and with a half-suppressed sob, begged to see her child nee more. She could not part from him forever without imprinting one more kiss upon his cheeks. I opened my sale quickly. "Here, my good woman," said I, "take that; they have not given you enough." Her tears fell down her wan cheeks; she begged me not to judge her too harshly j she had another child, 8, cripple and helpless; she herself was sick arid would - j- - i i j * Iwi riot live mucn longer, unit wmu m wcome of the children ? Then she thought? I myself had to finish the sentence, which a violent fit of coughing had interrupted. "Yes." she had thought: "I will sell the healthy one in order that the money may help the cripple when I am (lead and gone." >.0, she must not be judged harshly; we rich ones know but little of the trials and temptations of the poor. A\ hen my wife returned I gave her an account of the call I had had, adding that I had given the unfortunate one exactly the same amount as she had. "And now," said I, "you must see the child belongs to both of us." She bit her lips with her little white teeth. "It is all the same to me," she said with a moment's reflection; and with that she pressed a tender kiss on the little boy's mouth. It sounded almost like a challenge. "Our child!" I scarcely ever saw it. And the changes that were made in our household for his sake were made entirely without me. Somtimes, after the most'importaut things were decided, my consent was then asked. "We are obliged to have a nurse; 1 hired one, Ansel in." I nodded silently. we must fix up the nursery, that rooni is too warm for the child." I nodded silently, but I heard the sound of the workmen who were already at work in the hall. What could I do better? Was it not all done for our child ? My wife and I did not talk much aboul the child, and when we did mention it wi used only the name "It." But this "It': could be heard through the house at almost 1 any time of the day. "Hush! not so much noise! It sleeps! It must have it's dinner! It should be taken out for a drive! It has hurt itself!' and so the whole house began to turn round our "It." This nameless neuter vexed me. "It must have it's own name," said I one day. "I entirely forgot to ask the mother?I mean the woman?what it's name is," answered my wife. "She intended to 'ome again. Hut she does not come; she is eer- j tainlysiek. Now I call it Max. Max is a J pretty short name, is not?" i "if'in" returned I, between two draughts of my cigar, "Fritz would also be quite a pretty name." "One cannot change the name now 011 ac' count of domestics" answered she, shortly, : and" then called out loudly, "Is Max up alj ready?" Never mind, was it not our child? Once, though, I played my justifiable part toward the child. At dinner it was always served at a little table in an adjoining room. At such times we could hear, between the scantily drooping phrases of conversation, its merry prattling, accompanied by the clattering of its spoon. My wife had no rest; there was a continual coming and going between lis and him, the soup might be too hot,and he might eat too much! "Wife," said I very quietly, but very decidedly, "from to-niorrowit shall eat with us at our table. It is old enough now, with its two years." | From that time 011 "It" ate with us. lie sat there in his high chair like a prince, close to my wife?both opposite to me like declared enemies, as it were. The yellowish paleness of poverty had yielded to an aristocratic pink in his little cheeks, which now, becoming quite chubby, satYomfortably 011 the stiff folds of the napkin. It worked uowerfullv at its soun; and, now that it had finished, set up the*spoon like a sceptre in its little round fist on the table. My wife and I had exchanged a few words, and now we sat silent. Apparently on account of this silence its large eyes began to open wider and wider. They stared on me, stared at my wife, with a surprised, almost frightened, expression, as if they had a presentiment that all was not right between us. I confess that those eyes embarrassed me, and that I had a feeling of relief when Frederick entered with a dish. And I think lhat my wife felt the same. And the following days there were the same large, wondering eyes, like an appealing question, staring into the pauses of our conversation. It sounds ridiculous, hut it is nevertheless true, we were culprits before the child, we two grown persons! And by degrees our conversation became more animated. The occasional prattlings of the little one were noticed and spoken about; indeed, sometimes there was a mutual laughter at his attempts to speak. Ah! how light, how bell-like pure, sounded her laughter! llad I never, then, heard that before?" And what was the matter with me that I sometimes bent over my writing-desk listening, as, though I heard from a distance these same silver tones? With the first sunny spring "It" began to play in the garden, which I could overlook from my seat in the ollice. She was generally with him. I could hear the sound of his little feet on the pebbles, and then her footsteps. Now she would playfully chase him. and a chorus of twittering sparrows would join in their notes with the merry laughter. Now she would catch him anil kiss his cheeks over and over. Once I opened my window; a warm, balsamic air streamed around me, and a butterfly fluttered in and lit on my inkstand. Just then she came out of a green, vine-grown bower; she was dressed in a dazzling white neglige, trimmed with a costly lace; all over her streamed the golden sunshine, except that her face was overshadowed by the pink of her parasol. How slim she appeared! How graceful j in her movement!" Had I been blind? Truly the aunts and cousins were rijrbt; She was in reality beautiful! A sweet smile transformed her features, she was happy? and her happiness came from her child. Then a voice made itself heard in my breast, which said very plainly: "You are a monster !" i got up and walked to the window. "It is a beautiful day," called 1. I know : how cold and prosaic it must have sounded I to her. It came like a heavy cloud-shadow j over a sunny landscape. She answered something I did not understand; hut the I brightness was gone from her little face. Then slie took up the child, who was stretching out his arms to her, and kissed and caressed him before my eyes. Then it was when the first feeling of jealousy was aroused in me?a jealousy, truly ; but what a strange jealousy which could not make clear to itself who was its object. If "It" said "mamma," there came pain to my heart; and the caresses with which she overwhelmed him almost drove me tvild. I was jealous of both! It pained me that I had no part in this weaving of love, that I was not the third in the union. I exerted myself to gain a part of their love. I did it very clumsily. The child persevered in certain shyness, and she?had I not kept myself forciby away from her during these long, long years? ()nc day at the dinner table, after a skirmish of words, came a great stillness between us, a stillness more painful than had ever been. I glanced down at the flowers on my plate of Saxon porcelain, my displeasure showing in my face; hut I felt plainly that "It" had its eyes on me, and also her eyes. It was as if those four eyes burned on my forhead. Then sounded* suddenly in the stillness: "Papa!" and again louder and i more courageous: "Papa!" I shuddered. I .i.i 1 .4. 1 "11" Mil llieiV illJU snut'll, IHMV H'1,1 Ilium frightened, over at me, wondering, perhaps, whether a storm would be raised by its "papa." Ji'it her face was sufused with glowing redness, and her half-opened lips trembled slightly. There came a Hood of gladness over mv heart. Certainly no one but her had taught him this "papa." Why did I not spring up, bound toward her, and, with one word, embrace, strike out the loneliness of these ' last six years? One light word in tltfs mo! ment and all would have been well. It re! mained unspoken ; 1 seemed to have lost all power to act; but on a certain page of I my ledger are still traces of the tears I shed in anger at my own stupidity. There was no doubt about it ; another spirit had stepped in with its little curly head?the spirit of love; and that made me a stranger in my own house. A precious sunshine brightened the rooms, even when the one in the heavens was hidden by clouds. The faces of the servants and even inanimate objects streamed back this radiance. Ilut me, only, the sunshine did not touch. I felt myself always more and more unhappy in my loneliness. Jealousy grew in me ; it gave me all sorts of foolish thoughts. I wanted to rebel against the littleautocrat? that would be ridiculous. I wanted to give her the choice between him and me. I, audacious one, J knew very well which side her heart would choose. At another time I was ready to take steps in order to find the ; mother, and with the power of gold force I her to take buck her child?behind my I wife's back ? That would be cowardly. | I could no longer fix my mind on busij ness. I mistrusted even myself. People i asked me what was the matter with me. I I feigned illness. The sunshine would not let itself be ban. j ished, and the spirit of love was stronger than I. With his flaming sword he drove me out. "I must take a long journey, Martha." My voice trembled as I said this, i My wife must have noticed it, for something | like pity trembled in her beautmii eyes. I At my taking leave she held the little one i toward me, and asked in soft, caressing I tones; "Will you not say adieu to our j child?" I took up the little one, perhaps too roughly ; at all events he begun to cry and I r resist my care.sses. Then 1 put him d<rwn I and hastened away. : | 1 traveled in uncertainty through the 1 world, and behold ! after the first few days, I ' in addition to my ordinary traveling: eom: panion, bad humor, there came another fellow that told me plainly that 1 was a fool. ! First it sounded like a whisper, then louder - and louder: "You are a downright fool." j ' Finally, 1 read it in the newspaper before mo, it was traced on the blue mountains, the locomotive shrieked it to me. Yes, I believed it ; why did I not then and there turn my face homeward ? Well, the fool must first travel it all off before everything would be right again. At last, one day, with a violent beating of the heart, I again entered my dwelling. What a solemn stillness reigned there? I could now hear the sound of whispering voices; my wife came toward me. "It is sick, very sick," moaned she; "it will surely (lie!" I tried to comfort her. Oulya short time, however, proved that her fears were but too well grounded. During the last night we both sat by the little bed ; she there and I here, each one of us holding one of his little hands. Ah! those feverish pulse-beats; every stroke sounding like an ap]teal: "Love each other, love each other; be good!" We felt eventually these throbbings, and we understood the appeal. Our - * A ll 1 A. i.1 .1. 4-lw. fia1U CJ'CS met, Illll UIHI earnest uiroiigii wie guttering tears, as in a first, holy vow. Words would have seemed a sacrilege then. Not long after we laid our darling in the warm spring earth. When we again sat down at our table there was a stillness between us, but it was not the same stillness as that which the little stranger had broken in upon with itspratling "papa." Even by the wall stood his high arm-ehair, and on the little hoard before it lay his spoon sceptre. My wife reached her fair white hand over the table and asked: "Did you also love it?at least a little?" 1 ler voice trembled. "My wife! my sweet, mp own wife!" cried I. Then J fell at her feet and held her hands fast in mine. "I love thee,my wife; oh ! my wife." After the first emotion had subsided I pointed to an arm-chair. "The little one came to teach us love," whispered 1. "And when it had finished its teaching it went again to the angels," she added, through her tears. ******** One day the physician stepped out of my wife's room with a smiling face, lie touched the little arm-chair, as he passed it, saying: "Let it stand there; you will need it again." Really ? Was it possible? 1 lad I deserved such happiness? As I held my wife close to my heart in my irrepressible joy I could not forbear to bend down to her blushing little face and say, "We will love it dearly, very dearly. Is it not so?" UliisrcUauctmsi fUadiujj. CORN DANCE OF THE SENEGAS. According to tne lnomn legend tne corn plant sprang from the hosom of the mother of the great spirit. After her death and burial, and when the green corn became tit for use, the season of plenty with the Indians had emphatically arrived. They cultivated the corn plant from the most remote period to which tradition reaches and prepared it for food in a great many different ways, making it the basis of their sustenance. In their own language corn is figuratively called "our life," or "our supporter," and it being their only grain, was correctly named. The dance, or feast, lasts usually four days, each day's proceedings closing with a feast from a huge cauldron of succotash. It is held in the council-house, on the bank of the Allegheny River, near Steamburg. The council-house is a long wooden building, and at either end a huge stone tire-place yawns gloomily at the dusky participants. * Members of the tribe are seated or standing around the room, and the music is furnished by two male singers seated in the center of the room, each provided with <> f-i ii-fl<I nitflu (I IUI IIV The songs were a series of measured verses, which required two minutes each for the recitation. They were all religious songs praising the great spirit, various objects in nature, and the corn. The rattles were used to mark time, and were struck upon the seat as often as twice or thrice a second, the song and step of the dancers keeping time, notwithstanding the rapidity of the heat. The dancers were in single fiie and danced around the council-house. When the music ceased they walked slowly keeping time with the heat of the rattles. After an interval of two minutes the rattles quickened their heat, the monotonous chant hegan, the leader of the column commeced the step and the others followed, and though the dance led them into a great variety of positions thier movements were extremely graceful, dignified and imposing, and displayed none of the passionate contortions of face or hody seen in the war dance. The step is a peculiar one. Each foot in succession is raised from two to eight inches from the floor, and the heel is then brought down with great force as frequently as the heat of the rattles. One of their great aims war-.- to test each other's endurance and skill, and any specially fine exhihiton gave the performer the head of the column. The women also participated, hut moved from side to side of the column in a quiet and not uugraceful manner, merely raising themselves alternately upon each foot frdm heel to toe, and then bringing down the heel upon the floor at each beat of the rattle. Some were free-limbed, lithe, and by no means bad-lookieg, who for freedom and ease of movement, for modesty and beauty of form, might put to envy the corseted belle of town or eity. This dance was kept up for hours, and we did not lose interest in it, for one unconsciously singles out his favorite, whom he hopes to see hold out to the end. At the elose of the dance the people adjourn to a large green, and there witness a variety of athletic sports, such as running, leaping, ball plays, etc. After this conies the sumptuous feed of succotash, which is made of corn, beans and squashes so cooked that it is not unpalatable. The huge kettles of succotash, steaming hot from the tire, were brought in, a simple prayer was repeated, and the dusky worshipers fell to with great gusto. The remaining three days were all celebrated similarly to the first with only a change in the dancing step, and the "grand finale" was the game of the peachstones or beans, which is merely a game of chance, in which the winning side carries off several dollars in money which have been collected for the occasion. Originally the Indian had no Sunday, no sacred writing to furnish him a fountain of instruction ; but his gratitude was awakened by every returning manifestation of divine goodness. When the seed he had committed to the lmsoni of the earth in the spring brought forth their fruit he recognized in the event the watchfulness of the great spirit. Seizing upon the moment when the most conspicuous evidences of the protecting care of Deity were before him, lie acknowledged both J lis existence and His beneficence,and manifested at the same time his gratitude and devotion by those simple rites which the piety of his heart suggested.?Randolph (.V. )'.) Cor. Jluji'uhi C bttricr. llltKATIlK Timolol! T11 k NosK.?Dr. Ward, Physician to the Metropolitan Throat hospital, in an article on singers' throat troubles, in the Afusicaf Crific, treats of the various kinds of catarrhal troubles experienced by public singers, and repeats tin well known fact that the nose is the only channel through which the air should pass during ordinary acts of breathing, the mouth being intended only as an accessory breathing agent when, on certain occasions ?as for instance, running?the lungs demand a rapid supply of air. The air, in passing through the nostrils, is warmed and silted of its harmful ingredients, and thus prepared for its reception in the delicate structures below. If it passes directly intc the mouth without the above preparation, it will frequently cause irritation and inllammation of the mucus membrane lining the mouth and throat by being, in the first place, too cold, and in the second place containing irritating particles of dust and other matter. COFFEE MAKING A FIXE ART. Chicory may be a good and wholesome root, but'it is out of place in a cup of coffee. There is no affinity of one to the other, and no reason on earth why they should he joined . except for the purpose of the seller. Those who tell you that they rather like chicory in their coffee arc not to he reasoned with, anymore than they who like claret sour, ' like the economical Scotchman in the story, or their oysters high, like George II. Coffee I has no fellow, and to mix it with anything ; else is to deprave the noble berry. The amateur, to he safe, must buy his coffee whole, taking care that he has the true article, for the ingenuity of wicked men has gone so far as to fabricate imitation coffee berries. Those who affect to be real connoisseurs buy their coffee several years before they use it, age being held to mellow and ripen the berry. The next care is roasting, which, of course, should he done at home. Dean Swift always roasted his coffee with his own illustrious hands, "in an engine for the purpose," so Pope told Dr. Arhuthnot. What that engine was we should like to know, for, strange as it may seem, and a proof of the gross ignorance which surrounds this part of the subject, there is not now extant any simple coffee roasting apparatus such as the bachelor of moderate means small ap pliancescan use with hisowd hands. There are several patent machines of elaborate construction of which the best is a cylinder which goes round by clock work ; but their fault is that they roast more than is necessary for one man's use, and coffee, to be good should be fresh roasted the day it is made. The valatile elements in which so much of the. value as well as the flavor of coffee resides, speedily evaporate after they have once been developed by the action of fire. The next step is the grinding or rather pounding; for coffee, for the due evolution of its ethereal essences, should be bruised into a more or less fine powder?not cut, as it is in all the grinding machines of commerce. The Eastern, who are the best of coffee makers, lay great stress on tbis point. They bruise their coffee with pestle and mortar, so as to preserve the oily particles in greatest perfection, and reduce it to a fine powder, which is cooked in water like soup and wholly consumed. This last, however, is a detail which the amateur need not follow unless his taste has been so far ()rientali/.ed as to prefer the thick muddy decoction , of the East to the more artificial product of ! the West. The coffee being ground, and no more ground than is needed for immediate use, now comes the important process of making. The simplest way of making coffee is ;he best, always bearing in mind that the < object is to secure the union of the coffee with the water at the exact point of boiling, < neither before nor after?a process wliieii is momentary and delicate,something:between infusion and decoction. There are two ways 1 by which it can he accomplished. The first 1 is to pour the water on the coffee, which is ' the more common practice ; the other is to i throw the coffee into the water, which is far better awl more simple. All that is needed < is a saucepan narrower at the top than at the ( bottom, with a long wooden handle. Into this measure the exact quantity of water required, the proportion'of which to coffee is I a matter of taste. Setting the saucepan over I a brisk fire, and with your measure of coffee i ready to hand, watch for the large bubbles to appear. Then take the .saucepan off and I throw in the coffee, and, with a shake or < two, put it back on the tire for a couple of seconds. Take it off and let it rest for two 1 or three minutes before pouring off into the ' cup or coffee pot. By this process, the nicety of which depends upon catching the ex- ( act moment of boiling, and in not overdoing ' the second time of boiling, you will have I coffee in its fullest development of flavor ' and aroma.?>St. Janien Gazette. ? ? i MAN-HUNTING IN SIBERIA. 1 Sorry, indeed, even where death does not ' come to put an end to his existence, is the lot of the convict who lias succeeded in escaping from the mines of Eastern Siberia. Without resources of any kind, he must beg or rob his way back to Russia. The alternative of seeking employment is one which often hnsdisastrous consequences. The con- ' vict of the lowest type regards the Siberian colonist as an inferior, and has a saying ' which describes him as "blind for three days after birth." But the colonist has his revenge. lie works the supercilious con- i vict like a beast of burden and gives him as little rest and as little food as possible. When wages are demanded the colonist has an original way of satisfying his laborer. The < money is paid without demur; but before the convict can get clear ho falls dead, killed by a bullet from the gun of his cruel employer. This method of payment is sbme- I times carried out on a large scale. It is adopted in the case of vagabond laborers, who, having finished their autumn work in. the fields, return to the neighboring village to be paid off. The wages are forthcoming, < and the laborers allowed to depart with their < hardly earned money. But they have no i sooner gone than the'peasant farmer assembles his neighbors, and, having provided them with horses and firearms, the whole party sallies forth in pursuit of the vagabonds. The retiring laborers are speedily overtaken ; most art1 killed on the spot; all arc robbed, the recovered money being divided between the farmer and his confederates. The only respect shown for authority is the prevalent habit, when robbery has been the motive of slaughter, of "oncealing the dead. The murdered convicts are usually cut up and mutilated and the remains buried in out of the way places. This hunting of the "hunch-back," as the escaped convicts are often called in derision, has gone on for years, entering so deeply into the habits of the people that it has escaped the attention of few travelers through Siberia. "Where are the men ?" was asked of a woman left in charge of a small village adjoining the highway. "Gone after the hunchbacks," was the reply. Such is the prevailing demoralization in this respect that boys have been heard to ask their fa. thers to" kill vagabonds in order that they may see "how the fellow will roll on his hump." In some of the governments it is certain death for a convict escaped, or still under supervision, to be caught returning fnyn the mine. Occasionally the soldiers imitate the colonists in their exploitation of the vagabond. The Cossack, as well as the ordinary colonist, covets cheap labor, and is in the habit of rewarding with an ounce or two of lead the convict who declines to pass from one condition of bond slavery to another.? St. Peterehurq fetter to the London (ffohe. Tun Ukoixxino of a Si/cckssfit, Lifk. IIow ex-Governor Morgan of New York began life is thus related by himself: "1 was seventeen years old, and was living at home at Washington, Berkshire county? - A-- : w'.'ii:.. lllf Ml nil' county in \i mm iiiwiiu.-> uun>;iis located. One tine moonlight night in winter my unele drove up from Jlnrtford and proposed that I should go to work for him. Jle had a wholesale and retail grocery i business?principally wholesale?and the idea pleased nie. The result was T went. The first year he was to give me my hoard and forty dollars, the second, year sixty dollars, the third year seventy-five dollars, and the fourth year one hundred dollars. I ' hadn't been there long before 1 found the work was pretty hard, for J was the only 1 clerk, and I thought the pay too small. I i spoke to my uncle about it, and he said if I 1 ; would stay he would do better by me than 1 he had originally agreed. lie said he had already told his wife he intended to do beti tor by me. I decided to stay, and at the end of the year 1 found I had drawn fifty-six i dollars. He told me to balance my account I and call it square. I was disappointed, for : I had expected more. He wanted to know what I proposed to do, and 1 said I would ? stay the second year for one hundred dollars. , He said this was too much ; that he would give me seventy-live dollars. I objected, ; but he finally told me if I would remain that the next year he would take me into I partnership and give me one-third the profits. I accepted the offer, and the third year, when 1 was a partner at twenty years m of age, the-profits were $6,01)0, and my share $2,000. My unele was considered the wealthiest man in Hartford. You can see how times change and how different are the ideas of wealth to-day ; for when my uncle died 1 was his executor, and his estate was only worth ?<{/?,000. PUBLIC SCHOOLS ^VERSUS HARD WOKK. Keen and experienced ohserversare bringing grave indictments against our common school system. They charge that it is raising up a dangerous class of genteel idlers and office-seekers; that it advances'the pupil just far enough into the elegancies of education and hook knowledge to unfit him for the oceu pat ions of the common laborer and the rewards of common industries. We X I I XI .X XI 1. i ?I- -1 1 ,i:.. arc ioiu uiiu inc mgn sciiwui ^imiu.iu- hi?da ins to be ranked with a "greasy operative," or to soil his lily hands in the effort to win an honorable living at the mechanic's bench or on the farm. The late Tliurlow Weed declared in substance the demoralizing influence of this false idea of life and manhood to be showing itself in an ever-increasing crowd of young office-seekers who are both too proud and too Iazv to plow or to drive the plane for daily bread. The number of oftiee-seekers is to-day, he says, four or five times larger than it was:{() years ago. and in the fierce scramble -they are ready to sell themselves, body and soul, to the highest bidder. A distinguished citizen of Brooklyn, following in the same strain, complains that that city is over-run with public school graduates who are possessed with the ruinous notion that they can get a living by their wits?honest sweat is the one thing abhorred. It is needless to predict that out of such a notion will he hatched a brood of future vagabonds as injurious to the community as the phylloxera to the vine. The radical defect of our schools lies in a failure to mould character. There is nothing in text-books, from the speller to the algebra, from the rule of three to the French exercise, to enforce the claims of honor and industry ; nothing to inspire the boy with an ambition to accomplish useful work for himself and his fellow men. The teacher might supplement his deficiency, if he were only right himself, in his views of the dignity, the utility, the virtue,the man-; hood to be found in honest manual toil; but too many of the teachers themselves have yet to learn the deep meaning and regenerate force of quaint old George Herbert's superb lines : "Who sweeps a room as for thy laws Makes that and the action line." "What this country, then, most emphatically needs is a new and nobler race of public school teachers, who shall possess more of the spirit of William Dimlock, the noble principal of Adams' Academy at Quiucy. This man aimed to form character even more than to teach the contents of text-books. Over his desk was a picture of the cross, entwined with the above couplet from Herbert ind another motto from Carlyle, as follows: "What hast thou to do with happiness, except the happiness of getting thy work well done?" If this thought of finding happiness in work, and work well done, were only pressed by all our teachers upon the attention of their pupils so as to drive out thesilly desire to grasp only after "accomplishments," we would hear far less noise from : the drone buzzing idly around the public j hive, and rejoice in far greater stores of hon-1 cy accumulated by the thrifty workers. It! would, of course, be unjust to say that all: >ur teachers forget to exhibit and enforce the original law given by God to man in J ICden, and which has never yet been repeal-1 cd, viz.: "In the sweat of thy face slialt i thou eat bread till thou return unto the ground, for out of it thou wast taken, for dust thou art and unto dust slialt thou return but that many of them do forget this, nay that some of them despise it, is [ painfully evident in the aims, character and career of the pupils trained by them. As the oak lies in the acorn, so the destiny of (11is ri'imlilic lies Isirmdv in the nnblie school. Christian at Work. BUYING REVOLVERS. "What kind of weapon does the ordinary business man buy?" "He buys a revolver that will kill?a thirty-two or thirty-six calibre weapon. The calculation is that he will never use the weapon except when his life is in great danger, and consequently he wants one which will he of some practical service. The prices run from &"> up to .six or $?(). Private watchmen and oihcers of the law all j rarry good weapons and pay good prices." "Thieves and burglars usually carry good j weapons, do they not?" "I can't swear to that. You see they do not tell me their business when they buy from me. In fact, 1 never asked them to. I Rough, villainous-looken men often drop in and ask to see revolvers. They always buy the best there are in the market and choose revolvers of large calibre. I have customers who, from their personal appear- j mice, I might be justified in classing as I burglars aim roughs. But, as I remarked j before 1 never ask them what their occupations are. Sailors and Italians seldom carry ! revolvers. They are customers of mine, however, but always buy knives. Look at! this instrument," lie remarked, as he took I a large dirk from the showcase. The blade was six inches long and sharp as a razor. "That is what Jack Tar carries. It makes no noise and does its work in a more effective way than the revolver, There is another nationality which buys heavily of both revolvers and knives. It is the Chinese. John has learned that he has got to %v?,,Lwd U!n?oulf Un.i Ill wiutinunocu, auvi *i#> n ?/ut> c? tuv uu\ .--i kind of a revolver, lie first asks the price, and never buys until he succeeds in beating you down several dollars. The consequence is I always put the price up about $4 when I see a Chinaman enter the store. He sets to work and heats me down about ^>1, and I sell him a revolver for about $1 more ! than the average citizen would pay. lie J also buys knives and prefers a large one with a very long blade. 1 will tell you one thing about the business which I think ought to he attended to by the authorities. This is the selling of deadly weapons to small boys, and, in fact, all boys, big or little. I sell a great many revolvers to hoys, and I know that 1 am doing wrong. Hut what can I do?" If I do not sell to them, some one else will, and I am obliged to do wrong because my neighbors do. Now j this revolver here is called a toy pistol. It i is twenty-two calibre and will kill the strongest man that ever lived. They are sold for from $1 to * '! each, and a great j many are bought by boys and women. The j misguided females suppose they have thus , provided themselves with an effective safeguard against burglars. They never use them against burglars but they sometimes shorn themselves.?MiHwnukie Sentinel. What Two Govkkxoks Say.?Who shall decide when doctors disagree? Governor Henry M. Hoyt, of Pennsylvania, in his farewell address, said: "in neither of the penitentitiaries of this State has there ever been an attempt yet j made to administer them on the vulgar, | wicked, unworthy consideration of making j them sen sustaining. 111 neitner or mem hiis it been forgotten that even the conviet is a human being, and that his body and soul are not so the property of the State that both may he crushed out in the effort to reimburse the State the cost of his scanty food, and, at the end of his term, what then is left of him he dismissed, an enemy of human society." Governor Benjamin F. Butler, of Massachusetts, in a no less masterly inaugural address on Thursday, said: "I respectfully submit that much may be done by legislation to improve the discipline of the prison and make the institution efficient as a reformatory, and to cause the ! labor of the prisoners to be self-supporting." Governor lloyt may find those who agree with him in the main, but the average taxpayer will confess that Governor Butler expresses his views of the question pretty much as la* would himself. * WASHINGTON'S WIFE. It. A. Brock con tributes to the Richmond (Va.) Dixpa/r/i a letter received from Mrs. Mary K. Noel, of Williamsburg, Ya., in response to a request from him through that paper for definite information concerning the family of Mrs. Martha, wife of (ieneral (Jeorge Washington. Mrs. .Neel says: "Martha Danbridge was horn at her ancestral homestead, Eltham, in New Kent county, Va., Sunday, May K, 1732. Her maternal ancestor was the Rev. Orlando Jones, a native of Wales, who was established on the hanks of the Potomac, and is buried in the grounds of the old Rruton parish church, in this city, now the oldest Knglish church in use in America, as it dates from 1(5:12. We iirst heard in colonial annals of Miss Dandridge as a dazzling belle at the court of (lov. Dinwiddie at Williamshurg, the seat of government, where she met Col. Daniel P. Custis, of Arlington, on the eastern shore of Virginia, the son of the lion. John Custis,and as his father had been before him, a member of the King's council, and at deliberations or widen no was in attendance. The mooting ripened into love. The marriage was at lirst opposed by the father of the groom, hut in 1741) Col. Custis hore his bride to his "The White House," on the hanks of Pamunkey, in New Kent county. Three children blessed the happy union, the first of whom, a hoy, dying in infancy, was soon followed by his father, and Mrs. Custis was left a young, beautiful, and wealthy widow, the sole executrix of an estate appraised sit U:>n,<KM). In I7">8 Washington, attended by a servant, crossed the I'amunkey on a military mission of importance sit Williamsburg. Stooping for a moment at the house of a friend, a .Mr. Chamberlayne in New Kent county, he was pressed to remain. lie at first declined, Out the graces of Mrs. Custis, who was a guest sit the house, quieted the scruples of the speeding wsirrior so effectually that his stay was prolonged for two days and a night, lie had met his domestic fate, and Mrs. Custis became Mrs. Washington on the <>th of January following, the ceremony being performed by the Rev. David Mossom at St. Peter's church, in New Kent county, and near the White House. Of the two surviving children of Mrs. Washington by her first marriage, a lovely daughter (Martha) died in 1770 in the seventieth year of her age, and her son, Col. John Custis, an aidede-camp on the staff of his illustrious stepfather in our glorious struggle for national independence, died of malignent fever at Kltham, on the 2oth of October, 1781, while the camps from Williamsburg to Yorktown were resonant with the pioans to the triumph that ended the weary and hitter struggle. Col. Custis had married in 177-7, and left four children, one of whom was the father of our grand hero, Oen. Robert K. Lee. -Mrs. Washington died in ISO]." THE NEW FIVE*CENT NICKEL. Col. A. Loudon Snowden, Superintendent of the Philadelphia mint, luus so far progressed with the coinage of the new five cent nickel pieces recently aj)proved by the Secretary of the Treasury, upon the former's recommendation of the desirability of a change, that the first issue was made about the 1st of February. About ?">(),(ion worth were on hand ready for distribution at the mint at that time, in sums of not more than $ "> at first, the intention being to equalize, at present, the amounts that may get into the hands of those desiring the new coin, and thus insure the widest circulation. The causes which led to-the change are stated to be the "lumpiness" of theold coin, its thickness not being properly proportioned to its diameter ; the absence of sonority or ring; its inaccuracy and unreliability as a weight, and the difficulty experienced in obtaining uniformity of diameter, owing to a want of uniform ductility in the nickelcopper alloy. The new coin is of the same weight as the old one, but a little largerand thinner, and, while being regarded as handsomer in execution and device, is more in accordance with the law, both as to weight and inscription, than the one it is designed to replace. The obverse or face is embellished with a classical head of "Liberty," with the inscription "Liberty"on the tiara, and the head encircled bv thirteen stars, emblematic of the original thirteen States. At the bottom of the face is the date (1 ss;}) in plain figures. The devices and inscriptions on the face and back are on polished surfaces, inclosed by a raised edge, giving the interior work a finished appearance. On the reverse is a.large Roman numeral ("V") indicating the denomination of the coin, surrounded by a wreath composed of cotton, wheat and tobacco, typical of the three great agricultural products of the country^ the design being encircled by the insi'rintinn "I'nitod States of America." in capital letters at the top, and "K Pluribus Enuni" in smaller letters at the base. The old coins, which may he sent to the office of the sub-treasurer anil to the custom house for redemption, insums of$20and upwards, are expected to gradually find their way back to the melting pot for conversion into bright and handy mediums of exchange, in accordance with the laws or demand and supply. ^ Scokpioxs.?-A gentleman writing of life in Brazil, in the London Field, gives the impression that scorpions?as well as other biting and stinging things?are too numerous there to be pleasant. Scorpions are frequent travelers, too, getting on board ships as stowaways. The writer says that over a dozen were killed in his cabin during one fortnight, brought there, no doubt, in a box of Ex pi ri to Santa orchids from Panama. Cargoes of coir, bananas and other fruits and vegetables in bulk often introduce them 011 board vessels, and in old wooden ships especially they will remain and colonize the bulkheads and interspaces. 1 got a nip once, and only once. Walking along the main deck of a steamer lying in Rio de Janeiro, loading up with colfee, living barefooted and in the dark. I trod as 1 thought, on a piece of glass ; but drawing my foot ui) instinctively, 1 .felt the tickling of a scorpion's tail 011 my heel. It seemed to have curled up after its tail. The local symptoms were about equal in intensity to the bite of a common viper, or the sting of nmirahunda, but with less constitutional derangement; the ulcer was a longtime in healing, however. There is a story told of a gentleman in India, who, pulling 011 his boots one morning, felt a horrid prickly object in one of them. With great presence of mind, instead of withdrawing it, he forced his foot violently down and stamped on it furiously, though enduring exquisite agony in the process. But it was not a centipede, only a small blacking-brush left there by a careless servant. The Psylli of Pliny and other historians, as well as their modern descendants, who swallow live scorpions and carry them in their hats next their shaven crowns, proba bly deprive them lirst of their means of doing harm, as they serve the venomous serpents with which they juggle by blunting xl * ? t! 14- J-. vnr\' llieil" Sllllgs. il iiruumu.^, v...v to hold ii scorpion, and possibly to handle them freely, when accustomed to them. A Max Woiikki) hvStkam.?A machine made of iron in the shape of a man, which is intended to walk and to haul, has been constructed by (.'apt. Howe, who lives on the Schuylkill River, near the Wissahiekon hindin.tr, Philadelphia. ('apt. Howe's house flouts upon the water. Half of it is used as a workshop, in which he has been for many years'hammering and beating away upon his great man of iron. Captain Howe said to a Cniteil Press reporter that he has once or twice tested his invention, and that it has actually been seen by many witnesses to walk anil run just like a human being. It resembles a short thick-set man in ancient armor, the head being unusually large and the chest lull and broad. The thing is run by steam, the boiler and furnace being located in the seat, the spiral tubes in which the steam is generated, ending in the shoulders. The smoke passes out through the top of the head. The machinery which is of the most I complicated character, is below the chest. Two cylinders of ingenious construction fur| nish the power to a series of strong rods and I cranks, extending downward into the legs j and feet. Like thecnginesofa stern-wheel steamboat, these cylinders work with alternate motions and form the foundation for the forward and backward steps. The motions of the arms are regulated by cogs and cams connecting with the pitman cranks. The forearms and hands are provided with strong rubhercushionsandsprings. Twelve years ago, Captain Howe constructed a steam man from crude and imperfect ideas, which walked, so he says, although in a feeble and uncertain manner. After that he spent a fortune, which was left him, in perfecting his machine; but for some years he had not given the matter much attention, lie says he expects to see his steam man running 011 the streets, faster than the swiftest horse, before he dies. He thinks, also, that it can be put to many valuable and practical uses. A (Jlimpskof thk Past.?Five hundred years before the birth of Christ there was a city in Italy called Sybaris. It was a magnificent place, and the wealth and luxury of its inhabitants was so great that the name Sybarite exists to this day as a pseudonym of a devotee of sensual pleasure. It was at one time so populous, that it could send three hundred-thousand men mm me neiu, yet its annals are lost and its great men unknown. The information we learn about it is the fact of it its greatness, and that its ruins are to-day under the bed of a river in southern Italy. It seems there was a quarrel amongst the rulers of this mighty city, and the discontented joined with their enemies, the Crotoniates, who succeeded incapturing Sybaris, drove out its inhabitants, and, to make its ruin complete,changed the course of a river so that it swept over the remains of the once municipality. To-day the ruins are covered by a bed of slime and earth from sixteen to twenty feet deep, and soon the work of bringing the remains to light will be undertaken. It is believed that the memorials of a very distant past will be brought to light equal to, if not exceeding in interest, those of Pompeii. We live after all in a very old world. Almighty nations flourished, and prosperous cities gathered wealth to themselves long before history began to keep its record. In these days of the marvelous applications of science to our daily life, it is well to remember the might of the past, in order that we should not become too conscious of the splendor of the age we live in. Emptinkssok IIi'max Ambition.?The first time I saw Van Huron, writes the Hermit to the Troy Time*, was in the Spring after his defeat in the Presidential canvass. He had felt the crushing nature of what was bis first great disappointment in his whole history, and be bad seen the triumphant Harrison inducted to an office from which be himself bad been excluded by the voice of an indignant nation. He was in fact the worst beaten of all the Presidential candidates up to that day. In the midst of this disappointment came the news of the (U'iith of Harrison after only one month of official service. The city of New York honored the occasion by a fuueral procession of imposing character, but its most imoressive feature was the defeated candidate. I was then merely a boy, but as I pi zed on the long ranks of the military marching in solemn step to the wail of dirges, and sawall the deep expressions of public bereavement, 1 felt that the most touching lesson was found in Martin Van Huron, lie occupied a barouche, dressed with the American and British colors bordered with crape, and by his side was the British Consul. I thought then, and I have often thought since, of the emptiness of human ambition as illustrated by the appearance of Van Huron at Harrison's funeral. The latter had crushed the former, and then so suddenly yielded to the all-conquering power of death. Dkkams and Their Significance.?At the regular meeting of the "Lime Kiln Club" the committee on Dreams, Ghosts and Astrology submitted its quarterly report, from which is gleaned the following items: To dream of sailing a muddy river and seeing a dog-light on the left hand bank and a camp-meeting 011 the right signifies that your aunt is soon to use Paris green in place of baking-powder in the buiscuit. Ghosts can't be hit with clubs, shot with bullets, or laid out with slung-shots; where a ghost is troubling a family and rendering itself a nuisance, a bear-trap set at the back door will sooner or later bring forth g<xxl fruit. A person born under an unlucky star might as well try to find an honest piece of pavement in Chicago as to get ahead financially. People born in the full of the-moon j will always be fond of stewed prunes. Those born at noon will tacitly encourage | horse-racing. Children born within an hour ? I of midnight will grow up to make tyrannical men and cross women. The report was accepted and adopted, I and then Samuel Shin carefully cooled off the stove with a pail of water, and the meeting broke up with Elder Toots snoring like a horse and just ready to fall into the wood box.? Detroit Free Press. Face Powder.?It is necessary to raise ^ a warning cry against a most mischievous statement which lias recently been circulated, and has already done harm, to the effect i tbiil "arsenic in small doses is srood for the complexion." It is not difficult to imagine the risks women will incur to preserve or improve their "good looks." No more ingenious device for recommending a drug can | he hit upon than that which the authors or this most baneful prescription of "arsenic J for the complexion" have adopted. Suffice I it to recall the fact that for many years past j chemists and sanitarians have been laboring ; to discover meansof eliminating the arsenic j salts from the coloring matter of wall papers, I and certain dyes once largely used for certain articles of clothing. It is most unfor; tunate that this hopelessly antagonistic re| commendation of arsenic to improve the complexion should have found its way into print. Those who employ the drug as advised?and there are many either already using it or contemplating the rash act?will do so at their peril. So far as they areable, j however, it will he the duty of medical I men to warn the public against this pernicious practice, which is only too likely to be | carried on secretly. It is not without rea| son that we speak thus pointedly, and urge practitioners to be on the (jisi rife in anomI alous or obscure cases.?Lanccf. I Tin-: Dkvkuh'MKXtoI"' Hkauixc.?With ! regard to the sense of hearing, it is first rej marked that all children for some time after birth are completely deaf, and it was not ! until tin' middle of the fourth day that Prof. ; Preyer obtained any evidence of hearing in his child. This child first turned his head in the direction of a sound in the eleventh : week, and this movement in the sixteenth i week had become as rapid and certain its a | reflex. At eight months or a year before ! its first attempts at speaking, the infant j distinguished between a tone and a noise, as i shown bv its pleasure on hearing the sounds . ; of a piano ; after the first year the child ; found satisfaction in 'itself striking- the piI ano. In the twenty-first month it danced I to music, and in the twentd-fourth month j it imitated songs ; hut it is stated on tlieauI thority of other observers, that some children have been able to sing pitch correctly, j and even a melody, as early as nine month's. One such child used to sing in its sleep, and at nineteen months could beat time correctly with its hand while singing an air.?Lon; don Xahtrc. ? | t&jf" The Rev. Edward Everett Hale tells, with much enjoyment, a story of his early ! clerical experiences, lie went, he says, to ! Southampton to preach one Sunday. In the vestibuleof the church he was met by aveni emble man, who said to him : "I'm' dread! fully" deaf, sir, and I don't always hear what's I said ; but 1 wish you would speak the text i loud, for when 1 hear a young man's text 1 ! know what he is going to say, and 1 can sort of billow along."