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lewis ivi. grist, proprietor, j !|it Jnbejientient Jfamilj} ftefospajjer: jfor % ^promotion of fjte |)olrtical, Social, ^grintlfnral anb Commcrrial Interests of fjje Smitji. j TERMS--$2.50 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. "VOL. 30. YORKVILLE, S. O., THURSDAY, JULY 31, 1884. ^TO. 31. Original ftoefrg. For tlie Yorkvllle Enquirer. MAY AND DECEMBER. BY INOOMAR. Come listen, voung maidens, give ear to my song, And what 1 now say pray remember, And dream not that roses and flushes of May Can rest in the lap of December. I know there are some who will talk of the bliss That jewels and dresses impart, That 'tis better be darling of doting old man And silence fond cravings of heart Than to live in a cottage with some poor young man Who cannot aiford them fine dresses, But to true woman's heart nor jewels nor dress Can pleas? like a young man's caresses. Do frosts of December or cold winter snows Woo roses or flowers into bloom ? Or the cold, chilling blast of a weird winter's wind Cause song-birds to sing a sweet tune? Can the heart that is chilled with the frosts of old age Beat time to the throbs of your own? Or can it pulsate to the thrills of your touch ? Believe me 'twill yield but a moan Like the last lingering echoes of flickering love Which now burns low in its socket, ** And when you would sip of the sweet cup of love Your effort this echo will mock it. 'Twill but tremble and sigh as you touch its old chords, Like a harp that has seen its best day, And brush it and tune it, young maid as 3'ou will, A sweet tune on its chords you can't play. A woman who's worthy the sweet name of Wife For money will not sell her charms, Nor will she bestow her kisses and smiles Where they can but awake love's alarms; But she'll seek a young mate who alarms can still, And she'll sink,to sweet sleep on his breast, And while she thus dreams her young life away, Believe me she'll ever be blest. But the young wife who rests in the arms of old age Will find that her heart's brightest jewel Will rust from disuse, for her hoary old mate Can at best but add flame to her fuel: A cold, sickly blast o'er love's embers he'll blow, Just enough to alarm?then vex,? For old age can't subdue the flames that arise In the breast of the dear female sex : So heed not the nonsense of doting old men, And what I now say prav remember, That roses and flushes of bouncing young May* Can't rest in the lap of December. * Columbia, S. O ?&e idler. THE BRIDAL KOBE. The midsummer sun hung high in the heavens?the air was sweet with newly cut grass, and the white lilies lifted their scented crests along the edge of the garden wall, when Andrew North came whistling up to the ancient well, with his broad straw hat pushed back from his forehead, and drew a draught of cold sparkling water in the old bucket. He was a tall, handsome young fellow, a very Adonis of the wilderness, with a silky black beard, eyes soft and liquid as pools of jet, and a complexion of that rich healthy brown, which is wooed only from summer sunrises and wild forest winds. It wasdifficult to imagine how he ever came to be related to the sour little old woman who was peeling harvest apples for pies on the doorstep?a woman whose countenance boYe an oda family resemblance to one of t hose walnut-shell faces which children cut out at Christmas, and whose mouth turned mournfully down at both corners. "Well, mother," said the young man, cheerily, as he set the bucket down on the well curb, "how goes it ?" Mrs. North heaved a Boreansigh. "My dear one," said she, "this is a world of change and sorrow, Andrew." "So I have always heard," said Andrew, with undiminished cheerfulness. "I knew something w^is going to hapnan >> oitrhofi Mrc Xnrth. "when I heard y^i', ai6..v? , ? you singing before breakfast this morning." "DidI sing, mother?" "And I says to myself, 'I do hope there ain't nothing in store for us!' But I've most always noticed that when I have that sort of foreboding creep over me, something is sure to happen." "Well, mother, and what has happened now ?" said Andrew, pleasantly. "I was down to the store this morning," said Mrs. North, mysteriously. "Well, what of that ?" "I was buying a skein of carpet-thread and two eight-ounce papers of tacks," sighed Mrs. North. "And the telegitiphingmachine had writ out the message. And I ain't one of the peepin' and pryin' sort, and never was; but I couldn't helpseein' it over her shoulder. And it was from a young man down in York State to Fanny Cleveland." "Hush, mother!" said Andrew North, reddening to the very roots of his hair. "Don't tell me any more. It is not for us to examine into Mrs. Cleveland's private affairs." "But it is my bounden gospel duty to tell you this, Andrew," said the old lady, with mild persistency. "No young woman has any business to deceive a man as Fanny Cleveland is deceiving you. 'The bridal robe is finished,' was what the young man telegraphed. 'Come and see it at once !' Don't look so struck of a heap," added Mrs. North. "Oh, my poor Andrew, women are deceitful! and I never did put no confidence in that Fanny Cleveland from the first moment I set eyes on her at Deacon Dolph's tea party, with her hair dressed with ropes of pearl beads in that queer, outlandish fashion, and a straight up and down black velvet dress, when all the other company was wearing puffs and frills and flounces. Yes, you may depend upon it, she is going to be married right otr, and to some young man in the millinery business. I don't know what I should ha' thought, if your poor father had meddled with my dresses and pelisses and caps, as men folks do nowadays !" But the last words of the old lady's lugubrious sentence were lost on the ears of her son. as he strode away under the apple-trees j toward the hay-field. "Poor Andrew!" she sighed. "I'm afeard he'll take it hard. But its better to find out the truth before he has got any further entangled. And I never did think it right for a widow to marry again. I never did, I know, although I've always believed that Elder Dedlew would have proposed, if I'd given him the least encouragement, the year after my poor, dear husband died." And Andrew ! Very different were his thoughts as he stood out in the middle of the great level field, where perfumed waves of buttercups, daisies, and delicious grass followed the sweep of the merciless blade. "I don't believe it!" he said aloud, as he examined the edge of his scythe, not knowing whether it was sharp or dull. "I can't believe it! Fanny is not a woman who? And yet what a fool lam!" (suddenly flinging down the scythe.) "Is there any woman in the world who is free from deceit ? And, after all, we never have been formally engaged. 1 loved her?and I was idiot i enough to believe that she loved me ! J do not think that I shall be likely to offend again in that way until the end of time." It is very easy for a man to make up his mind that he will forget a woman?that he will put behind him for evermore all the follies and madnesses of love. But to carry out that resolve is quite a different thing? as poor Andrew North found to his cost. While the old lady went around among her friends relating the horrible story of the "telegraphic message" under solemn promise of secrecy, and in twenty-four hours everybody in Lindenville knew all about it? that Mrs. Cleveland, the pretty young artist who had taken "Wild Rose Cottage," was to be married very soon, and that the bridal dress was already completed at a fashionable emporium in New York. Indeed, so fast did the story grow, that the very fabric, price and trimmings were confidently talked of. And the bridegroom, it was boldly asserted, was a famous Man-Milliner in the great metropolis, who had accumulated a large fortune byehargingexhorbitant prices to the elite. "Fanny Cleveland is just like other women, after all," said Miss Prim, the village modiste. "She is dazzled by money!" "And after all her carrying on with Andrew North," added Mrs. Gadabout, elevating her fine Roman nose in the air. Fanny Cleveland herself, as is frequently the case, was entirely ignorant of the tide of gossip that ebbed and flowed around her. She pursued the even tenor of her way, all undisturbed by covert glances and furtive looks, and all that surprised her was the unusual absence from her side of Andrew North, the stalwart young farmer whom she had learned to regard with a tenderer feeling than that of mere indifference. "It is very strange," said Fanny to herself. "But 1 daresay he is especially busy during haying time. .All farmers are. And how handsome he looked when I passed that Home Meadow last week, stacking up the hay, with that picturesque broad-brimmed hat and the scarlet ribbon knotted at his throat. He would have made a superb sketch for an Italian Brigand!"' Mrs. Cleveland herself was of the fair Saxon type of beauty?rose-cheeked and sunny-haired, with melting blue eyes and a roguish dimple in her chin?and as she walked down toward the railway station with a trim little traveling bag on her arm, and her pretty figure well-nigh concealed by a gray "ulster," she seemed scarcely a day over eighteen, although in very truth she was three-and-twenty. And, as Fate would have it, the very first person she met at the station was Andrew North himself. He bowed constrainedly? she held out her gloved hand. "Oh, Andrew," she cried, "I am so glad to see you! Are you going to New York ?" "Yes," he said. "They have not sent my new reaper. I am compelled to go and see what the trouble is." "I am going to the city also," said Fanny, lifting her blue eyes to his face. Andrew bit his" lip?a frigid sparkle came into his eyes. "Yes," he said, coldly, "I have heard something of it. Pray, allow me to cobgratulate you." "Upon what?" said Fanny innocently. "Upon your approaching marriage, to be sure," said Mr. North, with a spasmodic sort of smile. "But I'm not going to be married," said Fanny. "At least, not that I know of. What makes you look so strange, Andrew ? What is the meaning of this?" And then Andrew North told* her the whole story from beginning to end. "Ah!" said Fannie, whose color had varied from white to pink, as he spoke, "so that is the mystery? Yes, it is all true. The 'Bridal Robe' is finished. I am going to New York to see it. But it isn't a areas, at all?it is a picture which my dear brother has just completed. It is to go into the Autumn Exhibition?and Jerome wants me to criticise it a little before it is framed. And to think my friends could possibly believe that?that?" Fanny Cleveland turned away, her blue eyes brimming over with tears. The whistle of the approaching train sounded?the few other passengers hurried on the platform?the ticket agent closed his window with a reverberating slam. Andrew and Fanny were alone?and in one second he had her clasped in his arms. *i*ill Ka *?A????iA/l 9 rP/-\ mo T?on_ DUt J WU Will UC Jliailicu x w 114^/ x uuny! For I love you, darling, better than all the world!" Mrs. North was very much amazed when Andrew came back with the old light in his eyes, the old smile upon his lips. "Had good luck about the reaping machine?" said she. "I've had good luck about everything, mother," gayly answered the young man. "I've been with Fanny Cleveland to look at the 'Bridal Robe!' And it's the prettiest thing I ever beheld." ^ "What!" cried Mrs. North. "A picture painted by her brother," explained Andrew. "It represents a young girl?the face a study from Fanny's owntrying on her wedding dress. And that was the meaning of your telegraphic dispatch, mother, dear." "Well, I declare," said Mrs. North, rubbing away at her spectacle glasses, as if she would rub through them. "And we must fit up the old house as soon as we can," added Andrew, "for I am going to bring Fanny here in October, as my wife! And mother take my advice?let other people's telegrams alone, after this." "I don't know but what it would be the best plan," said Mrs. North a little sheepishly.?Shirley Broume. wmmmmmmmnm?mmamM The Flying Machine Mania.?A late Washington letter says: "The flying machine fever has broken out again and we are beingbored by flying machine inventors every day,"said an examiner of patents to-day. "This flying machine fever," he continued, Ka a/I?n n r\ n-of i fo liourVif deema IU uc uuu iv nvi^uv every four years, and strange as it may appear, it always breaks out the summer of the Presidential campaign. Read the newspapers of to-day, and in one of every ten you can see an article about somebody's flying machine going to fly somewhere, at some time. It is always in the future, and none oPthem ever report any actual flying. We have now pending before us seven applications for patents for flying machines, and though we will likely grant them all, for they all have some patentable idea about them, there is not one of them that has any value in that direction. They are theories and parts of theories. So far, about seventy-one patents for flying machines have been issued. I would not give a ten-cent piece for them all, though some of them cost thousands of dollars to work them up. About one patent in each one thousand issued pays for itself. Inventors ought to know this, but somehow they don't. It is a fact that not one in every thousand are ever introduced. The man with a flying machine is very wild and will not listen to reason. All of the late applications are for electric motors to run their wings, but none of them have struck it. Buffalo Bill who was here with his "Wild West" show last week, is clean gone on a flying machine patent and has spent a great deal of money on it. lie wants to take flying parties over the plains. But is no nearer a real machine than he was when he started. Mr. Hays, of Ohio, who drew a salary for four years as President, had a weak spot for flying machines, and he frequently came here to look at them. He put in an application lor a patent, but it was ? i - A-l 14- U.a oimi. I rcjci'ieu. -ii/ una luiuut niu ?ui.->i/ ?ccvci saw. A friend of Hays insisted on making the machine and bringing it 011 here for trial. It was a cumbersome thing. He gave it a toss for our benefit from the roof of the patent office early one morning, having a rope attached to keep it from flying too far. It fell to the ground with the dullest kind of a dull thud, never to rise again. It had cost him about fifteen hundred dollars. He called it the Pride of Fremont. When gathered up, it made a push cart full of rubbish." Tin-: Language of Postage Stamps.? "I don't know of any book 011 the subject, if that is what you mean, but I have heard the significations of some of the different ways of placing them on envelopes. For instance, if the writer is a gentleman who wishes to express love for a fair damsel he inclines the label towards the left, which method Is repeated by the lady if she is favorable to his suite. If, on the contrary, she 1 wishes to give him the cold shoulder, she inclines her label to the right. A stamp in a perpendicular posture signifies simple admiration ; when the bust stands on its head it means that the only sentiment evoked by the suppliant is ridicule. If the stamp lies on its face it implies that the writer is dying for love ; if it is lyingon its back then the writer has got over the attack of heart disease. A label may be placed wrong way up with an inclination to the left that tells a story of hopelessattachment, while should it he leaning toward the right hand corner it is a sign that the affection is unrequited."?Infer view in Philadelphia Times. LETTER FROM EDINBURGH. A TRIP ACROSS SCOTLAND. Adjournment of the I'an-l'resbytcrian Council?It* Work and Whatit may Accomplish?A Scoth-Irish Reunion? Glasgow, It* Churches?A Xoted Cathedral Converted into a l'resbyterian House of Worship?Ship Building. Correspondence of the Yorkville Enquirer. Edingurgh, Scotland, July 12.?On Thursday night, the 3rd instant, at about half past 10 o'clock, the Pan-Presbyterian Council, after a series of sessions continued through eight days, adjourned. The meeting was certainly a very pleasant one, and will possibly do a great deal of good. Ministers of the gospel and ruling elders were present from all sections of the world, and although a great many papers were read and many speeches delivered, not a single word was said which wounded the feelings of any one. It was clear as noon-day that although among the members of the Council fhara worn \mr\r pnnflipfirxr vipws Pflfh nnP seemed to claim the privilege of giving free expression to his opinions, and to accord the same privilege to every other member of the Council. Whether these Councils will be productive of any real good depends upon many things. If the effort is made to unite all who claim to have adopted the general principles of the Reformation without making the Bible, as the Reformers did, the rule of faith and practice, it is to be hoped that the effort will prove a failure. The divisions which now exist in the church are greatly to be deplored, but these divisions, undesirable as they may be, are rather to be endured than to hastily unite into one organization bodies of Christians whose faith and practice are in open conflict in matters of vital importance. If all the churches now in connection with the Pan-Presbyterian Council would go to work, in earnest, to reform themselves, so as to make, by Divine guidance, their creeds conform in doctrine and practice to the word of God, then a union can be formed which will contribute to the glory of God and the spread of the everlasting gospel. It is a fact that there is not at present an organized body of Christians in the world whose practice does not need a reformation. In practice the tendency for, perhaps half a century, has been to ignore tne Bible in matters of religion. Every sensible man must see that the only platform on which all believers can unite is the Bible, and that they may understand each other, the doctrines, that is, the fundamental doctrines of the Bible, must be formulated into a creed. The meetings of the Pan-Presbyterian Council enable the various churches composing that Council to discover how far and in what they disagree. If all these bodies will, in the fear of God, expunge from their creeds, and eliminate from their religious practices, everything not sanctioned by the word of God, a union productive of great goodwill be formed; otherwise, the PanPresbyterian Council will, in all probability, be productive of great evil. It will be attended with much hurt to the cause of pure evangelical religion. In the entertainment of the Council, the people of Belfast covered themselves with honor. No people could have done better, and few would have done as well. I suppose that the meeting of the Pan-Presbyterian Council did not cost the people of Belfast and the Presbyterian Church of Ireland, less than ten thousand dollars. The speech-making in the Council was, as is the case in all assemblies, whether political or ecclesiastical, confined to a few of the members. Some men take great pleasure in hearing the sound of their own voices. They overrate their abilities and are silly enough to attempt to mould the opinions of others. As a rule, those men who speak on every subject which comes up, are men who think but little. Impudence, in their case, supplies the place of sense. Very few young men made themselves at all prominent in the Council. Nearly all the work was done by men who have passed beyond the meridian of life. Old men, as well as young men, are often ambitious of distinction, and frequently exhibit a weakness which is painfully disgusting. Duringthe sessions of the Council, some good speeches were made, but I do not think that, with one or-two exceptions, any of the speeches could be regarded as truly eloquent, and many of them were exceedingly dull and uninteresting. The English language was spoken as I never heard it spoken before, and as no one, except a foreigner or Scotchman, can speak it. The foreigners, that is, those who do not use as their vernacular language, the English, are to be pardoned when they murder the language; but no excuse can be made for the professors in Scotch Universities. On Friday, July the 4th, all the ScotchIrish members of the Council assembled at St. Enoch's Church, at 11 o'clock. This meeting was appropriately called the ScotchIrish Reunion. Considerable enthusiasm was manifested by the Scotch-Irish delegates, and very considerable interest was manifested in the Reunion by the people of Belfast. The house was well filled. A large map of the United States, rather of North America, was hung behind the speakers' platform, and everything assumed the nervous appearance of a genuine United States celebration. Southern and Northern men took their seats on the same platform, and for the time, at least, the distinction between Democrat and Republican was absolutely ignored. Several papers of merit were read and some thrilling speeches delivered, but the papers were generally too long, and that restless nervousness, which characterizes an American-Scotch-Irishman soon became manifest. The readers of pa per.s were forced to give up the reading of their essays. The most conspicuous figures on the platform were Drs. James McCosh and John Hall. Both these men have a world-wide reputation. Dr. McCosh said he was a Scotchman by birth, and botli an Irishman and a Scotchman by adoption, having lived sixteen years in each of these countries. The ravages of time are seen on the form of I)r. McCosh. He is feeble with the load of years of labor. Dr. Hall is perhaps the most vigorous man who has been in attendance upon the Council. He is more than six feet in height, heavy built, will weigh not less than two hundred pounds, has a large head which is covered with only a moderate amount of slightly grey hairs. Both physically and intellectually, he is a large man well kept. On Friday, at 8 o'clock in the evening, a very large number of the delegates to the Council embarked on the steamboat A(igator, for Glasgow. At about half past 7 on the morning of the 5th, we reached the city, and took lodging at the Cockburn Hotel. The city of Glasgow is buiit on the Clyde, by which it is divided into two sections. The portion on the north side of the Clyde is by far the larger. The population of Glas 1001 (!T1 i\l\r. r* 4-/A gtMV Wil?, ill lOOl, it irj iiiwu^nu n/ be nt present something more than 1)00,000. The city, with its suburbs, covers more than five thousand acres of land. The history of Glasgow, it is said, dates back to the year A. ])., AGO, \\ hen St. Mungo built a cell near Molindinar Hum's ravine, about a mile north of the Clyde. The building material generally used in all parts of the city is a light-colored, tine grained, siliceous sandstone. This stone admits of being polished nearly in an equal degree with that of the finest marble. In the old portions of the city the buildings present a weather-worn and haggard appearance. The buildings of recent origin are tasteful and ornate. There are so many things in Glasgow which interest a stranger that he is at a loss to know where to begin in attempting to describe them. The reader will pardon me for beginning with the churches. In the city there are three hundred and seventy churches. All of these are massive stone buildings, such as are never seen in the L'ni ted States. In a religious point of view, the citizens of Glasgow are largely Presby-j terian, two hundred and fifty of the churches being Presbyterian houses of worship.; The other denominations are Baptist, Wes- j leyan Methodist, Episcopalian and Catholics, together with a few congregations of I various other weak denominations. Of all the church buildings the Cathedral is the most noted. In fact, it is one of the most j noted buildings in the world, and the most' noted in Scotland. It is built on the west! brow of the Molindinar Burn, or branch, as j an American would say. The site is that of the reputed St. Mungo'scell, about five hundred and fifty yards north-east of the foot of "the Bell of the Brie." The foundation was laid in 1136, but it was mainly built between the years 1192 and 1197. Prior to the Reformation it underwent a series of additions and changes. From the time of the Reformation till the year 1829 it was neglected. During this period it suffered some damages, principally in the interior. It was repaired and is now used as a Presbyterian house of worship, in which the Rev. Dr. Bruce and the congregation of which he is pastor, worship? That the reader may have some idea of this cathedral it may be stated that it is thfee hundred and nineteen feet long, sixty-three feet wide and ninety j feet high, and comprises a nave, choir, small south trancept, lady chapel, crypt, chapter-house and a central tower, with a spire two hundred and twenty-five feet high. The nave is one hundred and fifty-five feet long, and has a width of thirty feet between the aisles. The choir is .ninety-seven feet long and is fitted up with pews in the old cathedral style, and i9 now used as the place of worship. The interior contains one hundred and forty-seven stone pillars, many of which are six feet square. The roof is a I combination of stone arches, and the outside of the roof is covered with lead. Be-' hind the choir are the lady chapel, one of the most exquisite portions of the cathedral, j and the chapter-house, in which the bishops ; were accustomed to hold their ecclesiastical: courts. At the time of the Reformation the popu- i lace of Glasgow became frantic with a zeal which was neither of religion nor good J sense, and determined, in their madness and folly, to pull this grand building down, simr-.liT anH fnr nn Afhor roaonn fhnn thflt it. hiul ! pijr UUU iV. .iu ....... been erected by the Catholics. It was saved by the ingenuity of the Provost, who de-: clared that he was as anxious for its destruc- j tion as any one, but was as anxious that its i destruction be delayed until another was ? built. This succeeded for that time, but in j 1579, the preachers, in their folly, induced j the magistrates to agree to its destruction. The work of demolishing it was about to commence, when the craftsmen of the town rushed to arms and taking possession of the i building, threatened instant death to any one who should offer to injure a single stone j in it. The windows of the cathedral are filled with stained glass from Munich.^ This was done between the years 1859"and 18G4. Those who have read Sir Walter Scott's novel, Rob Roy, will recall the reference to this cathedral. The yard in front of the cathedral is either j covered with tomb-stones laid hat, or by monuments erected upon it. Near by and on the opposite side of the Molindinar Burn is the Necropolis. There is something grandly picturesque about this Necropolis which cannot be described, as there is something cold and gloomy about the cathedral which can be felt, but not expressed. Without attempting to give a full description of the Necropolis, it will, for the present, suffice to say that it is situated on a steep, rugged hill, and is approached through an ornate Tudor portal and along a one-arched bridge which spans the Molidinar Burn, which is properly called the Bridge of Sighs. The great thing in Glasgow is the ship building. In fact, take away this and Glasgow would benothingof importance. With its ship building Glasgow is the second city in the British Isles. The Clyde, on which the ships are built was, at one time, and that not long ago, a small stream which could be waded, but is now capable of floating huge iron steamers. This has been effected by dredging the channel. Since the 7tn instant, I have been constantly on the move. The whole of Scotland has been crossed from Glasgow to Inverness, and now I am at Edinburgh. So much has been seen, and so much of interest stin 10 see, mat i must, content invsen wim taking notes with the hope of being able to write the trip up after reaching home. It. Lath ax. Picture Hanging.?In hanging pictures i there is nothing more provoking than to | driven nail and not hit a timber. Plaster walls are laid on laths nailed horizontally, about a quarter of an inch apart, on vertical joists which are generally sixteen inches apart. In trying to hit a joist, which is but two or three inches wide, so spaced, the chances are six to eight that it will not be hit. On the other hand, .since the laths aretwo inches wide and but a quarter of an [ inch apart, the chances are that a random ! shot at one will hit. To avoid spoiling I walls or temper, it is best to aim at a lath ; j and since nails can be driven into a spring-1 ing lath only with difficulty and with risk j of loosening" the plaster, it is better to use ' screws. Decide, as nearly as possible, the j proper point from which to suspend the pic- j ture, and with a fine awl carefully drill a: hole through the plaster. The chances are three to one that a lath will be hit; and if j it is missed no great harm will be done to j the wall, for the awl will make but a small hole. When a lath has been found and pen-1 etrated, enlarge the hole in the plaster and j insert a round headed screw (of brass or i steel), and drive it until there is only room j left for the cord between the head and the j plaster. An inch and a quarter screw, thus j carefully set in the lath, will hold anything ; but the heaviest pictures, cabinets and the j like.?Painter's Journal. How Bessemer Began.?It was a chance ; .. TV-., ? reman*. ul a gun irim m j iuiiwu nmu gnv*; i Henry Bessemer tlie idea of improving and I strengthening gun metal. He incurred an I immense outlay. He built furnace after furnace, he tried machine after machine, he j took out patent after patent, and he saw the j money he had amassed by previous inven- j tions fast melting away. After sundry par-, tial successes he fell into disrepute and was j being sneered at by the iron manufacturers as an unpractical enthusiast, while the Woolwich authorities had been snubbing him as a matter of course. A few months later Bessemer had produced steel worth from ?50 to :?G0 per ton from iron that cost him only ?o. "He could then see! in his minds eye, at a glance, the great iron \ industry of the world crumbling away under the irresistible force of the facts so recently | elicited." "Fourteen years afterwards these J experimental works were sold for exactly i twenty-four times the whole subscribed. capital ofthe firm,after returning iifty-seven fold," and the manufacture he originated is i now estimated to be worth no less than i ?20,000,000 yearly. Arthur's Two Hundred Wives.?We i most always have some Indians here, says ! a Washington letter writer. They want to seethe President once in a while,and the President and Secretary of the interior want { to see them. The Indians always have a good time. They are brought here in good ! style, carefully shown all the attractions of j the town, and lionized by the people in a certain sort of society. They don't usually get the thing they come for; but they always get something, and sometimes it seems ( better than the thing asked for. Some New j. Mexico Indians, recently at the capital, car- j ried back with them ideas somewhat more ; extravagant than usual. They began the 11 story with the remark that President Ar- j tliur was the wealthiest man in the world ; ; i that in his great treasury gold and silver were as plentiful as the sands on the plains j of New Mexico, aiid that in this great storehouse the President has 200 wives, who have : nothing else to do but count out paper money for him all day long. IgisfcnaHMttsi fUading. THE PECCARY. SOME OF THE HABITS AIVIt CHARACTERISTICS OF A STRANGE BEAST. Texas has within her borders a beast into whose narrow skull fear never enters It it the peccary?the Havilinah of the Mexicans, the Dicotylcs torquatus of zoologists. Bravery is a notable attribute of man, and it is discovered in birds, beasts and fishes. I don't claim that quality for the brute I am about to describe. I believe bravery cannot be said to exist in senses devoid of fear. I conceive that an appreciation of danger is a necessary menstruum to the nobler courage. It is not the man of dogged indifference I admire, it is the man who refuses to fly when duty bids him stand, and though he fears death, fears dishonor more. Now the peccary has no particle of fear on account of any show of odds, and appears to live only for the purpose of madly dying when opportunity offers. The game cock tights with heroic valor, but one sees in his swimming eyes, when gaffed and bleeding in the pit, glances of regret and nameless fear. I-Ie shudders out his life beneath his crowing conqueror, and his tiny heart perhaps swells with woe at its last throbs. At least, he looks that way to me. The dying pachyderm of the Texas forest dies in "a matter of course" manner as if he was meant to end that way and was glad of it. Pie looks up in the tree where the man sits who shot him (few men of any experience ever shoot them from any other standpoint) and anon he holds up his cloven foot and glances at it. If the peccary regretsanything in the hour of dissolution it is that he was not made like a squirrel?to climb. Roaming the glade, searching for mast, a drove of peccaries resemble a drove of tame hogs. They never begin a war, but when one is assailed the entire drove rush to the attack as men rush when martial valor urges them. Each bead-like eye is a fire-spark; tusks are protruded, the echinated spine straightened, and woe to the wretch who falls in their path. Gored, bitten, torn, trampled upon, and eaten up, to the last shred of his clothing?such is the fate of a man caught by a drove of angry peccaries. With the same fury they assail a wolf or attack a bull; and neither the WUli nui liic nun uiu nuiuu up agniuou ti charge of half a dozen peccaries. Both know this and fly in terror from the field. Lately, on the Wichita Biver, I attacked a drove of peccaries. I was safely perched in a tree and armed with a Winchester rifle and accompanied by Sergeant Piatt, of the Frontier Battalion, who occupied a bough beneath me. We waited until the drove approached within thirty yards of our tree and then we fired simultaneously, killing one and wounding another. The roar of our carbines brought them vipon us with that strange alacrity that suggested their having awaited from sucklings for just that occasion and kept perfectly ready for it. When they arrived at the tree they bit it each in turn, and then glancing up, squatted and fixing upon us a dozen pair of eyes small as peas and blazing with fierce purpose and fury intense. One by one, we shot them, and they fell, one by one, and died; each willing and ready to go, and accepting his fate as pleasantly as schoolboys accept apples. Not a groan or a squeal betrayed pain or dismay. Squatting on their hams, they gazed at us and took the bullets as if we were -tossing them acorns. Presently only one was left alive amid a dozen corpses, and there he sat brown, bristling, furious, foaming with raging life, courting death ; unmindful of the blood that damped the grass about him; indifferent to the fate of his comrades?a very epitome of hate. "Don't shoot yet!" I said to Sergeant Piatt, "I want to study him." Grim, voiceless, horrible?the hog sat and gave me back glance for glance. The spot he squatted upon was within the radius of a red ant bed. The insects crawled over him and stung his thick hide; they wasted their formic acid, blunted their lancets in vain. As well might they have stung the cactus plant growing beside their bed. A n. A: ,.1,1 U ?r -.'VllUI' H HI1IC LIIC Ulll UULVi ?y un J */ | gazing and he got up and went around, smelling the bodies of his late companions. Then he "ate a few acorns that had fallen from the live oak tree we were perched in, and after that he deliberately stretched himself at the root of the tree intending to remain a sentry and prevent our .slipping away without his permission; or without doing by him as we had done by theothers. We did not keep him waiting much longer. Piatt aimed at his heart and pierced it with a forty-four caliber bullet; with a single glance upward from a sinstereye, the hog died gently, and with his life ended his one emotion?hate. Texas & Paci lie and Fort Worth ?fc Denver City locomotive engineers often encountered droves of peccaries, as I suppose, do all engineers who onemte on the Western Texas railroads. No whistle is sounded to frighten them. The engineer knows that peccaries cannot be frightened. The engine rushes into the midst of the drove and those not killed outright die madly charging and biting the wheels that crush them. A peccary is in all respects a hog. lie looks, smells, tastes like a hog?and is a hog, but for a thing of indomitable courage of the lower type, for a hater of quenchless fury, and for a lighter to the last throb of his heart, commend me to the tierce Dicotyles torquatus, the indigenous Texas hog, a brute that would, if he could, while riding in the midst of a cylone, bite at the ziz-zag flashes of the death-dealing lighting. THE LITTLENESS OF FAME. Rev. Dr. Deems has written a very bright | and sparkling sermon on the littleness of fame. He adverts to the fact that but very few of the earth's myriads of millions of in- , habitants escape oblivion or indifference, 1 and that the surviving remnants, in the majority of cases, grow microscopically small or unappreciated. The gifted and learned . Doctor cites numerous examples of this de- ' dining prominence, and how it is typified , by different editions of cyclopaedias that either as they progress, cause the once pop- \ ular biography to shrink or altogether disappear. We do not understand our learned friend to discountenance ambition or to sup- 1 press what is called "the great discontent of 1 noble minds." On the contrary, it is not ' within the power of any mortal to extin- ! guish the aspiration of man for fame or to ' quench that fiery particle, the human mind, 1 which burns to be remembered. ! This very unrest is the mainspring of the ( whole machine of human progress, and the wr>fl<l lir? utiifrmint. wiMinnt if Its paralysis would have stayed the march i 1 of Alexander, crushed the spirit of C'olum- I bus and chilled the ardor of the missiona- ' ries who were the pioneers of our Western 1 civilization, and who smiled at deatli when it came to them in martyrdom, for th1 sake of Him who suffered for us all. Dr. Deems would have men to discriminate between ' the feverish, morbid, semi-maniacal aspira- i tion for mere human praise and the unself- f ish performance of duty, irrespective of eu- 2 logy or criticism. And itso happens, in not s a few cases, that those who abandoned < crowns, luxury, wealth, martial glory and i all the circumstances and pomps that are t ordinarily held so desirable by the concu- i piscent, have gained a much more glorious j and more pervading reputation, even on j this globe, than those who cared not for the 1 joys or rewards of Heaven so that the plaudits f of the admiring and fickle crowd could ring s for a moment in their intoxicated hearing. 1 The lives of the saints show that whereany f man or woman of exalted virtue forsook all lelse to follow Christ, this very fame they became careless of was vouchsafed them immeasurably, while no record remains of a thousands of worldings who were notorious I; and renowned in their day. So, wise in a r material sense, sanctity is also profitable, i Not only does the crown of immortality in a Paradise shine on the brows of those consecrated individuals, but their relics blossom in the dust and their names ascend like incense from every altar in every clime. The desire of mere human fame is therefore a little thing indeed to the majority of mortal's ending as it often does in disappointment, hallucination, madness and eclipse. The only noble aspiration, as Dr. Deems teaches, is to serve the Lord, to seek first His kingdom, and then to await what providence snail determine for the future. It is a small matter what becomes of our bodies or our productions or our titles to human respect. So we be gathered to the company of the saints, 110 care need remain as to what the multitude think of us in praise or blame. What will it profit the mightiest conqueror, the most melodious poet, the most celebrated statesman, the most flattered politician, the greatest king, the most absolute emperor, the most learned scholar, if his name, resonant on earth, shall not be recorded favorably in the Look of Life ? Being a Boy.?One of the best things to be, says Charles Dudley Warner, is a boy. He was one himself once, and he ought to know. He says that it requires no experience, though it needs some practice to be a good one. The disadvantage of the posiAloef Innrr nrmncrli Tt. l/IWU ID UIUL it UWCO iivjv 1UOU iv/?i0 vuvu^ii. ^.v is soon over. Just as you get used to being a boy, you have to be something else, with a good deal more work to do, and not half so much fun. And yet, every boy is anxious to be a man, and is very uneasy with the restrictions that are put upoh him as a boy. There are so many bright spots in the life of a farm boy that I sometimes think I should like to'live the life over again. I should almost be willing to be a girl if it were not for the chores. There is a great comfort to a boy in the amount of work he can get rid of doing. It is sometimes astonishing how slow he can go an errand. Perhaps he could not explain himself why, when he is sent to the neighbors after yeast, he stops to stone frogs. He is not exactly cruel, but he wants to see if he can hit 'em. It is a curious fact about boys that two will be a great deal slower in doing anything than one. Boys have a great power of helping each other do nothing. But say what you will about the general usefulness of boys, a farm without a boy would very soon come to grief. He is always in demand. In the first place, he is to do all the errands, go to the store, the postoffice, and to carry all sorts of messages. He would like to have as many legs as a wheel has spokes, and rotate about in the same way. This he sometimes tries to do, and people who have seen him "turning A ,1 r i.u ? ,i care wne ;is" along me siue ui uie ruau, uuve supposes he was amusing himself and idling his time. He was only trying to invent a new mode of locomotion, so that he could economize his legs, and do his errands with greater dispatch. Leap frog is one of his methods of getting over ground quickly, lie has a natural genius for combining pleasure with business.?Christian at Work. Victor Hugo's Joyous Faitii.?Here are recorded the views of death by Victor Hugo, at the age of eighty : "I feel in myself the future life. I am like a forest which has been more than once cut down. The new shoots are stronger and livelier than ever. I am raising, I know, toward the sky. The sunshine is on my head. The earth gives me its generous sap, but Heaven lights me with the reflection of unknown worlds. You say the soul is nothing but the resultant of bodily powers. Why, then, is my soul the more luminous when my bodily powers begin to foil? Winter in my head and eternal spring in my heart. Then I breathe, at this hour, the fragrance of the lilacs, the violets and the roses as at twenty years. The nearer I approach the end the plainer I hear around me the immortal symphonies of the worlds which invite me. It is marvellous yet simple. It is a fairy tale, and it is history. For half a century i have been writing my thoughts in prose, verse, history, philosophy, drama, romance, tradition, satire, ode, song?I have tried all. Tinf T {Viol T lmtm r*r\f caSrl flm + li/xnconrlih IJUli X ictl X na*\/ Jivyi' Otuu tiiV IIH/UI;?IJMHI part of what is in me. When I go down to the grave I can say, like so many others, "I have finished my day's work ; but I can not say, "I have finished my life." My day's work will begin a<?ain next morning. The tomb is not a blind alley; it is a thoroughfare. It closes in the twilight to opeij with the dawn. I improve every hour because I love this world as my fatherland, because the truth compels me as it compelled Voltaire, that human divinity. My work is only beginning. My monument is hardly above its foundation. I would be glad to see it mounting and mounting forever. The thirst for the infinitive proves infinity." Memory and Conscience.?Connected with conscience is the office of memory. The retrospections of the mind are as rapid as the flashes of lightning. More rapid are they than the transmission of ideas by the telegraph between Washington and Baltimore, or than that transmission will be when?as such may happen?thoughts are carried in a few moments around the earth. I knew a man who said that, in falling twenty feet, when he expected to die, the thoughts of a life-time seemed to pass through his mind. He thought of his business, of his wife, of his children, and of that eternity to which he was going. A life seemed to pass through his mind, and nothing was lost. So it will be when memory summons the acts of a life at the last tribunal. Nothing is lost. Thoughts once impressed, but apparently lost, will come out again. A life is written on our memory, as with invisible ink. It is apparently lost to our frail sight while here; but in the judgment light it will be seen enveloped around us, and will be unrolled till every line and letter is made visible. I knew a sailor who said that, when once in a storm, on the giddy mast, while trying to furl a sail, and could not, he cursed God. It passed out of his mind for twenty years; but then, in a season of excitement, he said : "Now I remember it; I am lost!" Fortunes in Dogs.?Among the $3o0,folO worth of dogs exhibited at the New York show, were some worthy of note. iitni-o <110 1100/I nor.: < Ino i>i <1 rlnnr-hminrl ind "the other a pointer. Of course no one would pay $10,000 for either, but that's the value placed on each by their respective owners. There are several dogs supposed to bo worth from $2,000 to $5,000. The $10,J00 pointer (Meteor) took the prize for dogs if that breed. His competitor was an English dog (Beaufort), and the international rivalry over the two was almost as strong as it the walking match. The lar^e English contingent present maintained that the English dog should get the first prize, and die Americans held that the American dog was entitled to it. Many bets were made is to which would get it, and when the 1 udge decided in favor of the American dog, ibout $5,000 changed hands. Forms of Sleeplessness.?The London I Lancet is authority for saying that thereare nore than a score and a half of known , causes or forms of sleeplessness, each one reluiring direct and specific treatment, and ret, as by common consent, the profession . auctions the abuse of such drugs as chloral md bromide as "poisoned sleep" producers. ( \To medical man is justified in undertaking ( he treatment of his own maladies. It is j mpossible that he should so far step out of , limself as to be able to form a reasonable , udgment of his case objectively; and no \ >ractitioner has the justification of science \ or the recourse of narcotics as remedies for leeplessness except when an exceptional j lain'is the accidental disturber of a sleep ( unction, or a habit of wakefulness may be ; iroken by an occasional dose of the stupc'fier. . j&ySome inventive genius has produced j i machine that will darn stockings. One >y one the few remaining inducements for nen to marry are being withdrawn, and it i s not surprising that women are casting f bout for new spheres. ] MADE BLUE BT MEDICINE. One of the employees of the inter-State fair grounds, in Kansas City, is a blue-black man, an uncanny, hideous shade that seems as though his skin had first been drained of all blood and smeared with dye. "When one comes to look at him closely the pecu[ liar shade in a photograph is irresistibly called to mind. Iiis face looks almost exactly like a photographic proof that is nearly faded out. Even the eyeballs and lips partake of the discoloration. The balls of the former are a dusky blue and the latter a dark purple, Against his skin a reddish beard forms a strange contrast. The name of this singular being is Thomas White. His color is the result of taking nitrate of silver as a medicine, and he is a living example of a cruel penalty that science imposes for a desperate cure. A Star reporter, whose curiosity overcame J his hesitancy at approaching so delicate a j subject, strolled across through the clover , field and engaged "Wihite in conversation. "Will I tell you about myself?" said he, "I don't mind. Twenty-five years ago? yes, more, for it was a good deal before the war?I suffered terribly from epileptic fits, I had one every day or two ancl was rapid' ly losing my mind. I could remember i nothing, got so weak and thin I could scarcely get around, and was dying by inches. About that time Judge Taller, who used to be a big man here, and was subject to epilepsy, told me that nitrate of silver, | taken internally, would cure me. He had used it himself, and it had turned his skin blaek, just as you see mine now, only perhaps worse, He was a curiosity all around, and I used to b.e afraid to look at him. "The idea of getting that way turned me sick, and I thought then I would rather die ' than use the stuff. The fits, though, got to coming so fast and so bad that I saw I would probably die anyhow, and made up my mind to begin with it. 3Iy mother, though, would not hear of my taking it. I had a good white skin then, and the notion of my turning black was more than she could stand. At last, though, she saw how things were and gave her consent. "Then I began to take the medicine. I got it put up in pills of three-quarters of a grain each, and would take three or four of them a day. I don't know how long I kept that up. It would be impossible to tell. It was for months, though?I guess years. For a long time there was no change in my skin. Then I began to turn black very slowly. At first you could hardly notice it at all. Then it got deeper and deeper. It seemed as though it took all color away with it, and folks used to say at first that i looked pale and wouldn't notice the black at all. It came so gradually that I had a chance to get used to it, and also those around me, so it wasn't so hard. People told me that it would affect me bad when I got old, but I never felt any injury from it except the staining of my skin. I have rheumatism, and a strong light makes my eyes a trifle weak, but I'm fifty-six years old now and might feel so anyhow. Judge Taller died, folks said, from the medicine, but it has never hurt me." "How did it affect the fits?" "It stopped them. I finally begau to taper off on the nitrate of silver, and got it down to a grain a day, and finally a grain a week. I have taken none now for about two years, Once, years ago, I thought I was completely cured, and took none for eighteen months, but the fits came back, and I began again on it at once, and the medicine checked them, I would have surely been dead had it not been for it, and now I am tolerably stout for a man of my age, and have a wife and four children." "Were you married?" "Yes," he replied, quickly, anticipating the question ; "I was married after the coloring began. I was engaged to be married before I commenced to take the medicine,and?well, she didn't abandon me because I grew ugly to look at. My, mind came back again, and I would rather have the blue skin a thousand times over than the disease."?Kansas City Star. Adoration of Money.?The poor, honlP? est man sees his richer brother courted and petted by everybody, while he is unnoticed, therefore he resorts to low, petty means to obtain wealth. The wealth acquired, nobody cares how, every one suddenly remembers him and makes him the grandest of bows, while some, bolder, come up to him, press his hand in the warmest friendship and beg him to come and visit them? he really must not be so strange. I should not be surprised, should his wealth be great, that, according to Chinese custom, they claim cousinship with him simply because they were born in the same place. But should the reverse happen?to you, that is, you are rich to-day but suddenly lose all you po.ssess?people seeing you in the street have only time to nod to you; business is so nressim? thpv reallv have no time to ston and shake hands, still less to speak to you. This business grows so important that the next time they do not see you, their minds are so occupied. And, of course, after that you are entirely forgotten. But what can you expect of strangers when relatives turn their backs upon you ? I heard once a wealthy aunt, when asked why she did not visit her niece, who had a large family and was in middling circumstances, answer: "Well, you see, if I visit her we will become necessarily intimate, and if she were in need I could not do otherwise than help her. So I think it is best to stay away." There's a profound philosophy for you. Bo not think this falsity is alone applicable to women, but to men also. And if such a trait lowers women in the estimation of the righteous, how much more despicable is it in the lords of creation. And the children brought up in this perfidious atmosphere, what kind of men will they make? What can we expect of the coming generation ? For truly, as Joubert says, children have more need of models than of critics. But all are not hypocrites. Many have this fc their motto: "No adulation; 'tis the death of virtue; Who flatters is of all mankind the lowest. Save he who courts the flattery." Others still are too frank. And in closing I would recall to their minds what Tallyraiul says: "There are many vices which do not' deprive us of friends; there are iwtiiij > u iulo ? iw^u jnv/ v vtiu mo hut 111^ any." Now, too much frankness is one of these virtues?San Francisco Examiner. Ex-President Pierce and the EggThhoweh.?The first session of the Thirtythird Congress was prolonged until August 7,1854. Two days before its close, President Pierce, accompanied by his private secretary, Sidney 'Webster, had passed several hours signing bills in his chamber at the capitol, and left on the adjournment of the Senate, going out at the east door of the capitol. Mr. Webster went for the President's carriage, and while he was gone, three young men came up, one of whom said: "This is the President, I presume?" The President replied in the affirmative, when the young man expressed pleasure at seeing him, shaking hands, remarked that he had been taking wine with some gentlemen whom he named, and invited the president to go and join them. The President politely declined, saying: "I don't do anything of that kind." Just then the President's carriage drove up, and before he could enter it the young man threw a hard boiled egg, which knocked his hat off. There was some little confusion, and the President love away, after which the young man who threw the egg was arrested and locked up. He was then taken before a magistrate, but before the testimony was heard AttorneyGfeneral Gushing appeared and informed the justice that President Pierce wished the young man released and all further proceedings discontinued. This was accordingly lone?Ben. Perley Poore. aST Good nature is the very air of a good mind, the sign of a large and prosperous soul, and the peculiar soil in which virtue prospers.?Goodm an.