Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, May 07, 1885, Image 1
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VOL. 31. YOBKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MAY 7, 1885. NO. 19.
^elected ? oetrg.
WHEN THE COWS COME HOME."
With klingle, klangle, klingle,
Far down the dusky dingle,
The cows are coming home;
Now sweet and clear, and faint and low,
The airy tinklings come and go,
Like cliiinings from the far off tower,
Or patterings of an April shower.
That makes the daisies grow;
Ko-ling, ko-ling, ko-linglelingle,
Far down the darkening dingle;
The cows come slowly home!
And old-time friepds, and twilight plays,
And starry nights, and sunny days,
Come trooping up the misty ways.
When the cows comeliome.
With jingle, jangle,-jingle,
Soft tones that sweetly inirgle,
The cows are coming home ;
Malvine and Pearl and Floromel,
DeKamp, Red Rose and Gretcben Scbell,
Queen Bess, and Sylph, and Spangled SueAcross
the tields I'hear her "loo-oo,"
And clang her silver bell: 1
Go-ling, go-lang, golinglelingle.
With faint, far sounds mat mingle,
The cows come slowly home ;
And mothersongs of long-gone years,
And baby ioys, and childish tears,
And youthful hopes and youthful fears,
When the cows come home.
With ringle, rangle, ringle,
By twos and threes and single, (
The cows are coming home ;
Through violet air we seethe town,
And the Summer sun is slipping down,
And the maple in the hazel glade
Throws down the path a longer shade,
And the hills are growing brown ;
To-ring, to-ring, to-ringleringle,
By threes and fours ana single,
The same sweet sound of wordless psalm,
The same sweet June-day rest and calm,
The same sweet smell of buds and balm, 1
When the cows come home.
With tinkle, tankle, tinkle.
Through fern and periwinkle,
The cows are coming home; 1
A-loitering in the checkered stream, 1
Where the sun-rays glance and gleam,
Olarine, Peachbloom, and Phebe Phillis,
Stand knee-deep in the creamy lilies,
In a drowsy dream ;
To-link, to-lank, tolinkle,
The cows come slowly home;
And up through memory's deep ravine, i
Come the brook's old sorip and its old-time sheen,
And the crescent of the silver Queen, i
When the cows come home.
With klinkle, klankle, klinkle, 1
With loo-oo and moo-oo and jingle, i
The cows are coming home;
And over there on Merline Hill,
finnnds tha nloint.ivA t>rv nf thfi whlD-DOOr-Will.
And the dewdrops lie on the tangled vines,
And over the poplars Venus shines,
And over the silent mill;
Ko-ling, ko-iang, kolinglelingle, I
With ting-a-ling and jingle,
The cows come slowly home. ]
Let down the bars: lei in the train
Of long gone songs, and flowers, and rain,
For dear old times come back again,
When the cows come home. 1
, MtJRtflfg iellet. ;
MY LITTLE BOY. |
I was a widow. ]
A young widow, I suppose?for no one ]
would regard three-and-twenty as a very *
venerable age. And a pretty widow, people
said. Whether they were right or J
wrong, I cannot take upon myself to say.
Of course I knew, whenever I looked in the
glass, that I was not an absolute fright? i
and so, when my cousin, Mrs. General Foxley,.
invited me to spend a summer with !
her at the Oriental hotel, where there were 1
balls and soirees, lawn tennis and archery, (
breakfasts going on all the while, I wasn't ,
at all sorry that Mile. Chatelage had sent
home my lovely new half-mourning dress,
all trimmed with pearl and lavender, sparkling
jet and prismatic clair de lunes, and
that Aunt Lavinia, our family "etiquette- <
book" had decided that it was quite proper ,
to wear my diamonds if I pleased. For I
was a decided brunette, and dark women ,
always look well in diamonds.
Not that it had occurred to me that I ]
should ever marry again. My old commo- ]
dore had been very good and kind to me,
but he was feeble and ailing, and required ,
a great deal of care and my general impression
of matrimony was that it involved ;
trouble and solicitude, and a constant bur- J
den of responsibility.
And now, I wa3 free, and I intended to
remain so! I felt like a caged bird that (
had managed to give its golden wires the ]
slip-^-a butterfly in the blue June air! I
meant to go to the Oriental hotel and have ,
a roval time, waltzinc. dreaming?even
coquetting a little in a harmless sort of way,
if it seemed good to me?but as to marrying
again?no, not I? Even Priscilla Bent, ,
my companion, who was the most logical
ot creatures, declared that I would be the j
greatest fool alive to do that!
But we never know just what is going to j
happen to us. The very night before we
were to start for the Orient, I came into the ,
room where Priscilla was packing the lace ,
things, which were too nice and delicate to
be intrusted to Fifine, the maid. !
"Prissy," said I, "look here! a telegram (
from San Domingo! My cousin, Fanny (
Black, is dead!"
"Dear me, how sad!" said Prissy, putting {
on the regulation look of affliction, although (
she had never in her life seen Mrs. Captain
Basil Black, of H. M. 114th Fusilliers, sta- ,
tioned in the West Indies. "But I suppose
that won't interfere with our trip to the
seaside, will it ?" *
"But that isn't all," said I. "She has
left a son. And with her dying breath she
charged it on her attendants that I should j
take him to this country and make a home :
for him."
"How old is he ?" said Priscilla Bent, i
looking aghast. And?'"
* "Let me see," said I, counting upon my ,
fingers. "Basil Black?that's his name, for J
I remember cousin Fanny writing about
him. to mamma when I was a mite of a .
thing?must be one and tweuty at least by
this time."
"Bless me!" ejaculated Priscilla, "and you
are only just turning twenty-three yourself!"
"Prissy," cried I, with mischievous glee, J
"You're as good as a book on dates!"
"But it won't be proper," said Priscilla. :
"Not proper!" echoed I. "Why won't it J
ho nroner? Isn't that dpar old commodore's
house Gig enough for all of us? And aren't
you here to matronize us? I think myself (
it will be rather fine to lit up a suite of ,
bachelor apartments?smoking room ; dress- ,
ing room?"
"Elsie," cried Miss Bent in despair, "I '
believe you would make fun of anything!
Don't you see how outlandish this plan
would be? Write at once to these San Do- (
raingo people, and tell them it is out of the
question."
"It's too late now, Prissy," said I. "They
are on the way here, don't you see? I
shouldn't wonder if the steamer were in
port now. And you know, Priasy, I've ,
always wanted to adopt a little boy, only
the dear commodore wouldn't let me."
"Elsie." !,
"Well, Prissy?"
"I think you must be crazy," groaned !
Miss Bent. "A little boy, indeed ! A dash-1
ing, flirting, drinking West India^ fellow, j (
six feet high, I'll go hail, ana oroau 10 cor-1
respond ! I shall leave the house!"
"No, you won't Prissy," said I, coaxingly.
"You'll just make the best of it, as I am
going to do. I dare say he is very nice, and
poor Fanny never would have left him in
my charge "if he wasn't all that is delightful.
And perhaps he'll want to go to college, or
study law or something, so he won't be very
much in the house, after all?and you know,
Prissy, one can't neglect a dying woman's
request."
"It was very thoughtless of her, at all
events," grumbled my faithful old chaperon.
"A young thing like you!"
I laughed. "I dare say she heard I
was a widow," said I, "and probably imagined
me a middle-aged horror with eye
glasses and a double chin. Leave these
things, Prissy?we shall not go to the seashore
now until cousin Basil is safely installed
with his gun case, his hookahs and
chibouks, his books and papers, in my blue
rooms! Come with me and we'll have up
the house-keeper, and turn them into a
bachelor suite at once."
I was very happy for the next three days
studying the imaginary tastes of my unknown
cousin, culling out choice editions of
the poets, hanging rare engravings on the
walls, and matching carpets and curtains.
Miss Bent, poor old soul, said it was all
nonsense, that no young man of any spirit
could condescend to "sit down" (that was
her expression) "in a house where he was to
be a dependent."
"But he is my cousin," said I. "He has
a claim on me."
"Nonsense," said Priscilla, "that doesn't
alter the case in the least."
In the meantime I was watching the
papers?and when I saw in the shipping
columns the arrival of the "Bonnie Ante"
from San Domingo, I put on my hat and
veil, ordered the carriage, and called Prissy
to go and accompany me to welcome my
new guest.
"If I must, I must," said Prissy. But
she was not at all enthusiastic about it.
I was just pinning the crape bow under
my chin, when Alice, the parlor-maid, came
courtesying in.
"A young gentleman in the parlor to see
you ma'am," she said in a smiling flurry.
"From the San Domingo steamer. And?"
"I'll go down at once, Alice," I cried,
tearing off my hat and veil and flingng the
heavy crape streamer on one side.
"Elsie, Elsie, wait," Priscilla's shrill
voice entreated me, but my mind was full
of poor cousin Fanny and her orphan child,
ana hurrying down stairs I found myself
face to face with a tall slender young man,
very pale and fair, with dark blue eyes,
soft, silky mustache and plain mourning
dress.
Involuntarily I threw my arms around
his neck and kissed him.
t4Vnn arp wplmmp. Cniisin Basil." said
I, "welcome a thousand times."
He drew back, colored a little. "I beg
your pardon, Mrs. Charteris," he said, "but
there is some mistake here. This is your
cousin!" and a pale child of four or five
years old, whose long golden curls hung
over his black suit, crept out from the
shadow of the curtains, slowly and shyly.
"I am Frank," he said. "And Mr. Lesley
is my dear friend. He lived on the
next place in San Domingo. He has come
to the United States with me!"
"But," I cried looking hopelessly around
tne, "where is Basil ?"
"Basil died two years ago when the yellow
fever decimated our place," said Mr.
Lesley, quietly. "I was his most Intimate
friend. Little Frank is all that is now left
of the Black family, and I promised his
mother to see him safely to your house."
I looked with a pang of pity at the dear
little golden-hairea fellow, of whose very
existence I had hitherto been ignorant.
"Sweet little Frankie," said I, "you shall
be my little boy hence forward," and I
clasped the baby form to my breast.
"And Mr. Lesley, too?" said the little
lad solemnly reaching out his hand to his
friend. "Cousin Elsie likes Mr. Lesley, or
she wouldn't have kissed him."
I could feel myself color to the very roots
of my hair, but Mr. Lessley's features never
stirred.
"She thought I was you. Frankie, don't
you see?" said he* "She didn't expect to
see such a mite of a chap as you. Goodbye,
now, I am going to the hotel, and I
shall see you very often, if Mrs. Charteris
is "
But at this Frank burst into an infant cry
of dismay and desolation, and I, recovering
my presence of mind, spoke up at once:
"Frankie, don't cry," said I, "Mr. Lesley
will not leave you?just at present, at least.
You were my dead cousin's trusted friend,
Mr. Lesley," I added, holdingoutmy hand.
"May I not hope that you will be my guest,
also.''
And Mr. Lesley seeing that I was thoroughly
in earnest, consented.
"If I shall not be a bore!" he said, when
little Frankie jumped and danced around
him, for very joy.
"Now I shall love cousin Elsie all my life
said hie. "And so will Mr. Lesley!"
Mr. Lesley occupied the suite of apartments
which I had so unconsciously fitted
up for the poor young cousin who was sleeping
the while in the West India cemetery.
Little Frankie, who had refused to be parted
from his friend, slept in a crib close to
his bedside.
"Well, Prissy," I said, merrily, to my
mother chaperon, "so we've got two guests
instead of one!"
"It's dreadful," growled poor Prissy.
"Do you think so?" said I. Now itseems
to me that it is very good fun !"
Well, of course any one can conjecture for
themselves how it ended. Mr. Lesley was
young and handsome?moreover he had a
snug little property of his own. He liked
the United States, and incidentally remarked
that if he had any object he would prefer
to remain here permanently.
"But," he added, mournfully, "it is sad
to be so entirely without ties, that no one
eares whether you stay in one place or another."
"I care," piped up Frank, who sat as usual
by his side, holding his hand. "And so
does cousin Elsie."
"Yes," said I, laughing, though not without
some confusion. "Frankie is right.
We both en re."
"There," said Mr. Lesley, "I will stay."
We were engaged within the month.
And as soon as I laid off' my half mourning
we were married, so that Frankie never yet
has been compelled to separate from his
friend.
And Miss Bent lives with us still, and we
are very happy ! There is the end of my
love story. Ought not all love stories to end
30? Miss Bent says that all real romances
end sadly; but my experience, you see, has
been altogether different. And perhaps I
am a better judge than she is.?Shirley
Browne.
No Poetry in a Maiden's I,ove.?It
was divinely announced in the early history
of the world that "it was not good for
man to be alone," and. the announcement
lias received the almost universal indorsement
of our race, especially the male portion
of the race. It may be that some are
discouraged by frequent failures?that is,
those who failed to marry those they wished.
To the male sex this would seem to
apply, as it is supposed that the men only
do the courting. Put a close observer will
sometimes admit that the ladies take part
in it. I once heard of a party who asked a
lady of over three-score years how old a
lady would become before she would relinquish
the idea of marriage, and the answer
was: "My son, go ask some one older than
I." People will marry. It is necessary
that they should. But they should love
first. Those who write of love generally
treat the subject with too much levity, and
associate it with soft glances, moonlight
walks and poetry. Love and poetry go
hand in hand sometimes, but poetry is generally
left?left away in the background.
The young man, when he nrst gets in love,
is a poet in his own conceit. The girl does
not get that way. She has a practical idea
of love, and whether or not she reciprocates
the passion of the young fellow who is letting
out his soul to her, she will knock all
the poetry out of- him on the first round.?
A Lecture by Pastor Hammond.
The Finest Bay.?The bay of Havana
is said, by the geographies, to be the finest
in the world. It is in the shape of a man's
hand, the opening into the sea corresponding
to the wrist, and the lingers being represented
by bays or inlets stretching in all directions.
But in this magnificent haven there
is not and never has been, pier, or quay or
dock or any place for a vessel to land. All
the loading and unloading of passengers,
freight or cattle, is done by means of small
lighters, which are rowed back and forth
between the vessel and the land.
fjtoteis of Itavclin (ShnMpt.
OBSERVATIONS ON IRELAND.
BY REV. R. LATHAN.
[Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.]
North-east of Belfast, on the south bank
of Belfast Lough, is situated the old town
Bangor. From Belfast, it is distant about
thirteen miles. Bangor is in county Down.
The name Down is said to be a corruption
of Dunum, which means a hilly country.
In a "Survey" written more than a hundred
and fortv vears aero it is thus described:
"The wWe county is remarkable for the
number of its hills, being compared to
wooden bowls inverted, or eggs set in salt,
from whence it took the name Do^'n, which
signifies hilly situation."
By common consent Down is regarded as
one of the finest counties in Ulster Province
and by its inhabitants it is regarded as the
Yorkshire of Ireland. There can be no
question about the excellency of the soil,
the beauty of the scenery, and the thrift
and industry of the inhabitants of this section
of Ireland. Evidences of great wealth
are numerous; on the other hand evidences
of great poverty are not wanting. Here
I may remark that one of the features of
Ireland, and the same is true of England
and Scotland, is that the extremes of wealth
and poverty are at a great distance. In
America the mass of thet white people are
neither very rich nor very poor. Such is
not the case in Ireland. The rich are very
rich, and the poor are very poor, and there
is, apparently, very little prospect of their
ever being able to better their condition.
Some of the large farmers in the British
Isles pay more rent than the gross income
of our largest Southern farms. Here I may
remark that in each of the British Isles, fortunes
are the result of the accumulations of
many generations. Here in the United
States the mass of the rich men of the country
began life poor?many of them miserably
poor. In Great Britain instances of
large fortunes being accumulated in a single
life time are rare, and generally such fortunes
have been made in some of the Colonies.
Young men of energy go to Australia
and in a short time amass large sums or
money, come back to Ireland or Scotland or
England and invest in property and spend
the remainder of their lives in ease and luxury.
It is a rare thing, however, for a man
who is born poor in Ireland to die rich, unless
he leave the country.
In County Down there are quite a number
of flourishing towns. Among these, in
some respects, the most noted is Bangor.
Not on account of the number of its inhabitants,
for it contains only about two thousand
five hundred inhabitants, while Newry
contains over fifteen thousand inhabitants
and Ballymacarret more than twenty-two
thousand. With Bangor, as well as with
many other towns, " 'tis distance that lends
enchantment to the view." Bangor has a
history which reaches far back into the past,
and it once had an importance which few
other towns on the island possessed. Ireland
is called the "Isle of Saints" and Bangor
the "City of Saints." According to traditional
history Bangor was founded about
the middle of the sixteenth century by St.
Comgall.
A school, which became celebrated all
over Europe, was soon after its founding,
established at Bangor. This school, it is
claimed, gave rise to the world renowned
Oxford College of England. The claim is
set up?whether well founded or not I do
not know?that when Alfred founded Oxford
he sent to the school at Bangor, Ireland,
for teachers. I suppose an Englishman
would deny this, but it is certainly claimed
by some of the Irish to be a fact. For generations
past the English in particular, and
generally the rest of the world, have been
dispc*?ed to regard with a feeling which
more than faintly resembles contempt both
Ireland and the Irish. Perhaps this is accounted
for by the fact that the human family
generally hate those whom they have
maltreated more bitterly than they do
those by whom they have been maltreated.
This is a strange freak, but human nature
is lull oi ireiiKs.
At present Bangor is engaged, to a limited
extent, in the cotton and lineh trade. It is
a bathing place of considerable resort, especially
to the inhabitants of Belfast. Small
pleasure steamboats are constantly running
between Belfast and Bangor. These boats
run several times each week day, and although
the Irish, as a rule, are strict observers
of the Sabbath, some of them run on
the Sabbath.
In the mind of the Scotch-Irish Presbyterians,
the name Bangor is always associated
with Robert Blair. "You must see Bangor.
You have heard of Blair of Bangor," said a
native of Belfast, as we walked down Donegal
street. George Washington is not more
intimately associated with Mount Vernon
in the minds of the American people, than
Robert Blair is with Bangor, in the minds
of the Presbyterian population of England.
Brice of Broad Island, Blair of Bangor,
Stuart of Bronshane, Cooke of Belfast, and
Paul of Carrickfergus,are names which send
a thrill through every Presbyterian's bosom.
Cooke is in the Presbyterian church of Ireland
all that Chalmers is in the Presbyterian
church of Scotland.
Robert Blair, of Bangor, was born in the
town of Irvine, in Scotland, in lo93. At
that time Elizabeth was Queen of England,
and James the Sixth, King of Scotland. In
his eighteenth year, or in 1(511, he entered
the University of Glasgow, and in 1(514 graduated.
During the period that he was in
the University, his brother William was a
regent, that is a teacher of the arts and
sciences, to the lower classes in the University.
After graduating, Robert Blair taught
school for two years, and then became the
successor of his brother William, who settled
as pastor of Dumbarton congregation.
For various reasons, the people of some
sections of the United States should feel an
interest in Robert Blair. lie was a ScotchIrishman.
So were many of the first settlers
of the United States. In addition to
this, many of the Blair family came to
South Carolina, both before and after the
Revolutionary war. One of the relations of
Robert Blair settled on the Lancaster side of
Catawba river, on the hill east of Landsford.
Here he built a mill and the ford was called
Blair's ford until about the time of the Revolutionary
war. At Blair's mill Cornwallis
obtained supplies for his army, when on his
way to Charlotte. Another Blair, a relation
of iiobe&t Blair, settled at Camden, South
Carolina. After the Revolutionary war,
Captain John Blair settled in Yorkville.
In Bullock's Creek township, in York county,
there arc a number of Blairs. All these
are blood relations of Blair, of Bangor.
The original Blair settlement in Ireland,
was.in Ulster Province. There are some of
them still in Ballymena. They are all of
Scotch descent, and some of them were men
of note in their day. Robert Blair, of whom
I propose to write a few things, still lives in
the memory of the Scotch-Irish, no matter
where they are, and his name will continue
to live in the memory of the Scotch-Irish as
long as the "three nicked shamrock" continues
to grow. It is not proposed to do anything
more at present than mention, very
briefly, a few of the remarkable incidents
of the life of Blair, of Bangor.
The first incident of his life occurred when
he was about six years old. At that period
his father died. When the corpse of the
lather was taken to the graveyard to be interred,
so great was the grief of the little
son, that it was with great difficulty that he
was prevented from jumping into the grave.
Another incident, which occurred in his
childhood, is calculated to raise an inquiry
in the minds of a multitude of grown men
and women. One Sabbath day he was, by
some means, left alone in the house. lie
looked out of the window and saw the cow
standing near by with a full udder. He
was only seven years old. He began to reflect
upon his ^irroundings. The sun was
shining. He saw that the sun gave light
and the cow furnished the family with milk,
but as for himself, he was doing nothing
either for himself or any one else. It filled
his heart with sadness to think that a cow
was of much use, and he was of 110 use at
all. This certainly was a marvelous train of
reflection for a boy of seven years of age.
There are hundreds of old grey headed men
and women, who have never as yet been of
as much use to society asa cow, and although
they are growing old, they are so stupid as
to be unaole to discover that they are worse
than drones?terrible pests to society.
During Robert Blair's last year in the
University of Glasgow he concluded that
his health required that he spend a considerable
amount of time in taking exercise in
archery and catch-pole, whatever that was.
In order, however, that the time spent in
taking exercise might not interfere with
his studies he determined to spend every
other night entirely in study. For some
reason he desired to keep this concealed and
this could be effected in no other way than
htr rotirinnr fn a rnnm in 'thp TTnivprsitv
"J ^"""b w * ~ 4
which was regarded as haunted. It was a
current belief among the students of the
University, and probably by some of the
Krofessors, that the devil or some evil spirit,
ad, for some unknown nefarious purpose,
taken possession iOf\tJ}e room. The result
was that without a word of objection the
room had been turned over to evil spirits.
Blair himself had seen the devil in the
room. He appeared in the shape of a
fellow student. Blair chased him around
the room, when finally the evil spirit, as
Blair thought, seemed to hide in one corner
of the room. From his hiding place Blair
attempted to pull him out, but found nothing
to pull out. The spirit had vanished.
To this room, infested with evil spirits,
Blair retired every other night and pored
over his text books. The reader must remember
that the event just related occurred
in 1613, and the belief in ghosts and witches
was more common then than it is to-day.
The fact that Blair could remain at his
studies all night in a room which everybody
regarded as haunted shows that he
had in him something that is in few men.
After graduating Blair taught school for
two years and afterwards was one of the regents
in the University of Glasgow.. Shortly
after this he was licensed to preach the gos
pel. James the First was King of P^ngland
and Scotland. The work of reformation in
the church was stopped by the efforts of the
King and his minions to force everybody to
conform to his hierarchial notions. Blair
became involved in a difficulty with certain
Earties in authority, and about the same time
e received an invitation from Lord Claneboy
to visit Ireland. Lord Claneboy was
patron of Bangor parish. The justly celebrated
James Usher, D. D., was Archbishop
of Armah and Primate of all Ireland at that
time. Impressed with the idea that he
could accomplish nothing for the advancement
of religion in Scotland, Blair accepted
the. invitation of the patron of Bangor.
Early in 1623 he landed at Glenarm, a small
town on the eastern coast of Ireland about
twenty miles northwest from Carrickfergus.
From Glenarm he went to Carrickfergus and
from thence across the Lough of Belfast to
Bangor. Although Blair knew it was perilous
for him to remain in Scotland, still it
was with great reluctance that he set out for
Ireland. At that time Ireland was considered
by the English and Irish as scarcely
civilized. It was a place of refuge for the
persecuted Scotch and a hiding place for
outlaws. It was in 362.'} to the English and
Scotch what Texas was a few years ago to
the people of the other States. The first
individuals seen by Blair on landing was a
crowd of persons who had been drinking
usquebaugh and eating wild garlic. The
smell of the "rampions" for the time con- i
firmed, he says, has prejudices against Ire-,
land. I have often heard of "ramps" but I
saw no ramps either in the neighborhood j
of Glenarm or in any other section of Ire-1
land. Here, if an episode is admissible, I
will remark that onions grown in Ireland
are neither so strong scented nor as acrid to
the taste as those grown in our country. It
may be that "ramps" or "rampions" smell
as strong as our onions, if so usquebaugh
and rampion give the user a strong breath,
ftnnn after arriving in Ireland Blair was
settled as pastor of the congregation at Bangor.
Here he remained in peaceand preached
to the edification of the parish tor a number
of years. Archbishop Usher was a good
man and disposed to bear and forbear and
to agree to disagree with those who held ;
I views different from those held by himself, j
j Some of the bishops, however, were men j
who had no regard for either the opinions, I
! convictions or doubts of others.
Charles the First, became King in 162f>. He !
had no use for religion, in any form, only so ,
far as it had a tendency to establish absolute i
monarchy. Multitudes of the nation caught j
the spirit of their master, and were even,!
as might have been expected, greater perse- j
cutors than the king himself. There were {
in Ireland, at this time, only a few non-con- j
forming ministers. These were suspended !
in 1631. They were temporarily restored in
1634, and again deposed. In the winter of
1636 the deposed ministers seeing no prospect
that they would be permitted to preach
the gospel in Ireland, came to the conclusion
to leave the country and go to America. ;
They built a ship of one hundred and fifty
tons burden, at a point near Belfast, sold
out, at a sacrifice, much of their household
stuff, and investing in various articles of
merchandise, they set sail from Carrickfergus
for New England, on the 6th of September,
1636. There were on board one hundred
and forty persons. After struggling against
winds and waves, until they were ahout!
j midway the Atlantic Ocean, they were
i forced to return. The vessel on which they
J embarked was called the Eagle Wing. A
name taken from Deuteronomy, thirty-second
chapter and eleventh verse.
Not long before this the Mayflower had
crossed the Atlantic, bearing the English
Puritans to America. Had the Eagle Wing
succeeded in crossing the Atlantic, it is probable
the whole character of New England
...^.,1^1 UovTrs knnw nlinn/vrtrl nnrl in cnnio ro.
WUUJU 1JUVC UCCU tliauguvi, uuu Hi owiAiv
! spects the character of the British Govern|
ment would not have been changed as it
I was. Not long after the return of the Eagle
U'htff to Carrickfergus, Robert Blair, in obedience
to the General Assembly of the
Church of Scotland, returned to his native
land, where, after experiencing many trials,
he died in 1GGG.
Th k Benefit ofLaugiiter.?Br. Green,
I in his "Problem of Health," says there is
! not the remotest corner or little inlet of the
i minute blood-vessels of the human body
I that does not feel some wavelet from the j
i convulsion occasioned by good, hearty laughter.
The life principle, or the central man,
is shaken to its innermost depths, sending |
new tides and strength to the surface, thus !
materially tending to insure good health to
i the persons who indulged therein. The
blood moves more rapidly, and conveys a
different impression to all the organs of the
body, as it visits them on that particular
mystic journey when the man is laughing, |
different from what it does at other times. |
For this reason, every good, hearty laugh !
in which a person indulges tends to lengthen !
his life, conveying, as it does, new and dis+
nf! ivi nlnu fr. tllO vltol f/iri'O 1 InllhtlPSS I
tiie time will come when physicians, conceding
more importance than they now do to the
influence of the mind on the vital forces of
the body, will make their prescriptions more
with reference to the mind, and less to drugs
for the body, and will, in so doing, find the |
best and most effective method of producing j
the required effect upon the patient.
ftraT" In the Island of Goa, near Bombay, [
there is a singular vegetable called "the sor- j
rowful tree," because it only flourishes in |
the night. At sunset no flowers are to he |
seen, and yet, after half an hour, it is full of
j them. They yield a sweet smell, but the
j sun no sooner begins to shine upon them
j than some of them fall off and others close
up; and thus it continues flowering in the
night during the whole year.
The deepest trust leads to the most
powerful action. It is the silencing oil that
makes the machine obey the motive power
with greatest readiness and results.
^isccllaucfltts Ratling, .
WHAT IS EDUCATION ? |
a
SOME INTERESTING THOUGHTS ON AN TM- c
PORTA NT SUBJECT.
" r
An old adage reads: "Study not for /
amusement, but for improvement." This
conception originated at a period when all c
amusement was deemed as verging more or ?
less on the sinful by our New England an- ,
cestors, and life was considered as relatively {
perfected when all recreation had been 1
stamped out of it. *
Why might not the adage read: "Study *
both for amusement and improvement, and
let all attempt at study cease as soon as it 13
becomes irksome and a drudgery."
Have you ever been a teacher? And, if 1
so, can you from the inmost depth of con- *
science and truth say that any profit results 1
to the child forced to plod over any study *
which it does not like and which you find it '
impossible to make it like ? )
True, after hours, possibly days, of such J
application called "study," its memory may {
hold a few words or sentences of whose real
meaning its mind may have no real notion. ]
After a two months' vacation and the j
child resumes its studies, how often have J
these "correct answers" utterly vanished 1
from its memory. (
May not the training or cultivation of 5
memory be mistaken for training of mind, {
whereof memory seems but an adjunct? 1
On the basis that through the over-cultiva- <
tion or straining of one department the rest J
are neglected and injured, and the balance <
between all destoyed, may not this over- J
cultivation of memory prove destructive to 1
the end in view? !
What is the end in view ? I)o you desire your
son to leave school or college a walking (
encyclopedia of facts and figures, very learn- 1
ed, indeed an infallible authority in the 1
family parlor, yet unable, despite the vol- 1
umes of memorial knowledge within him,
to earn over ten dollars a week as the litera- .
ry hack in some sterotyped department of a '
school book publishing firm ? ' *
Or would you rather see him possessed
even of fewer facts and more constructive
ability?ability to make his knowledge use- 1
ful in building up a business; ability to se- 1
lect what knowledge he needs for that busi- (
ness and skill to apply it; in brief, ability [
to build his own bridges when he needs 5
them, rather than ever to be dependent on \
_i.i i :u ii o ]
Ullltirs tu UUIIU Hit:III
One sea captain, being shipwrecked on an
uninhabited coast, may from the planks and
timbers of his shattered vessel construct a
craft capable of carrying passengers and
crew to a safe port. A mere routine ^sea
captain, in like situation and without constructive
ability, is helpless. The first has
the mind trained to learn and cope with new
situations and emergencies. The second is
trained only to walk over the bridge built
for him by others.
Should not education largely involve a
capacity to love to learn new things, and
skill in the art of learning all things, and
this at any time of life? With such learn- '
ing, its power ever increasing by exercise,
men and women would, having more confidence
in themselves, cease less to fear fail- !
ures or mutations in business, and would
also be less the slaves of circumstance or po- ;
sition.
Some men and women are youngerat sixty
than others are at thirty. The first mentioned
are ever learning, ever seeking, exploring,
investigating. Nothing, where opportunity
offers, is too great for them to attempt
grappling with ; nothing is deemed
so small as to be unworthy an effort. Study
becoinestheir chief amusement. By study
is not implied an incessant poring over
books. Place them on shipboard and they
commence "picking up" whatever belongs
to maritime life or science; in the artist's
studio their "dabbling," as some may contemptuously
style it, grants them fresh interest
and appreciation in art; at the theater,
an aspiration for the stage, though never
realized, still leads them to study, from
the "front," the actor's methods even as
they do those of the artist, enabling them
to see and therefore enjoy the performance
far more than the ordinary play-goer.
So wherever they go they find some new
interest, and each new interest is a new life.
They love to learn, and find pleasure in
the act and effort of learning.
Annthpranrl miif*h larcrpr Mass a rp through I
with all their learning, and a iarge portion :
of active amusement by the age of twenty- i
five. They "settle down" into a routine,
set their faces resolutely against learning
anything new, relegate all the more active
recreation to the young, become plodders
from house to office and office to house, get <
stiff in the physical joints at forty, and i
rusty in the mental ones at the same age, <
and are, to all intents and purposes, "old 1
men" at fifty, whose talk is mainly of the i
weather, who are about as entertaining in '
company as the clock, and who are more <
endured than liked. <
These can find no pleasure in the effort of i
learning. Every step in such effort is irk- 1
some to them and becomes more so as they .
advance in years. 1
Half the stimulus and vitality of youth 1
comes because that is the season for learning 1
new things. Boyhood is a period of inves- 1
tigation, exploration and study in games !
and sports. The world is new to the boy <
because there are so many new things to !
learn. The world becomes old to the boy <
and the boy soon also becomes old when he <
imagines he has nothing new to acquire. i
But what is the benefit of learning any- 1
thing at middle age or past it? \
It is the benefit of a healthy stimulation, i
"When the faculties are ever on the alert to 1
acquire and appropriate all manner of 1
knowledge and skill there results a contin- I
ual influx of power and new life both to 1
mind and body.' 1
"What is the use of my learning any- <
thing not necessary in my business, or any- 1
thing which I may never be required to <
practice ?" one asks. J
One use is that mind constantly so exer- i
cised acquires more and more facility in the <
art of learning. Otherwise it grows rusty, <
and worse, disinclined to seek or learn the 1
new. It loses more and more the art of '
making study an amusement. When all ]
study becomes amusement to a man or wo- i
man, the era for them of certain ultimate i
conquest in all undertakings is reached, i
A thousand dreaded difficulties and trials 1
vanish, since in each step toward the end 1
in view a new and interesting study is 1
found. 1
It is then that the dreaded interview be- ]
comes also a subject of study. Such a i
student having certain wares to sell, stud- i
ina inot lir>/lu nf o??nrnur?li tn tho ?nrlpv thn f
ICO 1UCUIUVIO Ui UJ/JJ4 vv/ V?iv. HW..VJ f v.v
peevish, the supercilious, who in this world 1
hold the keys of the position they would
deal with. Half the failures ot genius may
be traced to the inability and dread of its
possessors to meet and cope with the coarse
natures and strong wills who hold the doors
through which talent may enter and be seen
of men or be altogether shut out of sight.
To meet and cope with the world in this
manner is a study and an art most profitable
to acquire.
An artist may paint admirable pictures,
but he lives entirely in his studio. He
dislikes to go into the world of business. He
will not get into the outside world ; he will
not try to cultivate the acquaintance of
business men; he will not cultivate the
art of making himself acceptable or agreeable
to them or to any other than his own
class.
Result: He can not sell his pictures. He
sees others finding a ready market for their
works, possibly of less merit. Then he complains
of the public lack of appreciation, and
of "underhanded or illegitimate methods"
in getting purchasers.
Is not the artist somewhat responsible for
his lack of success ? The world wants agreeable
people as well as painters, and the
world is very apt to treat those best who are
the most agreeable. Our genius, shy, awkward
and ill at ease among men, either puts
himself out of sight in the background or .
reates an unfavorable impression if he
omes forward. Then, if rejected, he sad- j
lies all the fault on the world, when that
ault is his own through lack of realizing
he necessity of learning more than one art,
md also of loving that art in order to "get
in" in the world.
The artist fails since he can find amusenent
but in one study.?Prentice Mn/ford,
ii Boston Globe.
The Colors of Horses.?The Arabs of
Sahara are very particular as to the color
if their horses. White is the color for
jrinces, but does not stand heat. The black
)ring good fortune, but fears rocky ground.
Hie chestnut is the most active! If one
ells you that he has seen a horse ny in the
tir, ask of what color it was. If he repliet
'Chestnut," believe him. In a combaigainst
a chestnut you must have a chests
lut. The bay is the hardiest and most so>er.
If one tells you that a horse has leaped
to the bottom of a precipice without
nirfinor himself Hsk r>f what, enlnr he was.
md if he replies "Bay," believe him. Ben
Dyab, a renowned chief of the desert, happening
one day to be pursued by Saad el
fenaty, turned to his son and asked, "What
dnd of horses are in front of the enemy?"
'White horses," replied the son. "It is
veil; let us make for the sunny side, and
;hey will melt away like butter." Some
;ime afterward Ben Dyab again turned to
lis son and said, "What horses are in front
)f the enemy ?" "Black horses," cried his
son. "It is well, let us make for stony
ground, and we shall have nothing to fear;
;hey are the negroes of the Soudan, who
launot walk with bare feet upon the flints."
Be changed his course, and the black horsis
were speedily distanced. A third time
Ben Dyab asked, "And now what horses
ire in front of the enemy?" "Dark chestluts
and dark bays." "In that case," said
Ben Dyab, "strike out, my children, strike
put, and give your horses the heel, for
these might perchance overtake us had we
lot given barley to ours all the summer
through."?Daumax?"Horse of Sahara."
Tom Corwin's Endorsement.?Speaking
of recommendations to office, I have a
* ? r\ _c al:* i^11n
story wmcn uren. uenvtr, ui wmu, icns u*
Tom Corwin, the great Ohio Senator. "Corsvin'sgood
will,''said Gen. Denver, "was
jnbounded. He would give a recommendition
to any one and for any place. One
lay when he was in the Senate and Merelith
was Secretary of the Treasury, an office
jeeker came to Corwin and asked him to endorse
papers applying for an appointment
in the Treasury. Corwin looked over them
ind wrote a very flattering endorsement
jpon them. The man applied for the place
md failed to get it. In the course of time
President Taylor died and Fillmore came
into the presidency. Corwin was then made
Secretary of the Treasury. The office-seek2T
now thought he was sure of an appointment.
He called upon Mr. Corwin, showed
him his papers endorsed with Corwin's signature
and demanded a place. Corwin
looked at the papers and pointing to his own
signature, said : "This is a strong endorsement,
sir." The man nodded. "And did
that not get you a place under the former
Secretary ?"
"It did not," was the reply.
"Well! If that endorsement was not
strong enough to get you a place under Secretary
Meredith, it will certainly not be
strong enough to get you one under Corwin.
Good day, sir!"
ALEXANDER III.
The Romanoffs, to which family the present
Czar of Russia belongs, have been the
reigning power in that country since the
2arly part of the seventeenth century, and
have indeed been the most conspicuous
rulers of Russia since the Tartar invasion.
The first of the Romanoff dynasty was Michael
Fedorovitch, who was the grandfather
pf Peter the Great, one of the most prominent
figures in the world's history. The
family also numbered among its members
Alexander I, who was the first to break
the power of Napoleon, and followed the
latter to Paris. Upon the monument on
the battle-field of Boradina is the following
inscription: "Napoleon entered
Moscow 1812, Alexander entered Paris 1814."
Df this the Russians can be truly proud.
Nicholas, the grandfather of the present
Jzar, was one of the most despotic sovereigns.
His character was stern, and he
made up his mind with great rapidity and
iiis opinion once set was inflexible. When
the engineers consulted him as to the railroad
to be built between St. Petersburg and
Moscow he drew a straight line between the
two places as the route. During his reign
;he great Crimean war was fought. Nicholas
thought his army was invincible, but
the result of the campaign learned him otherwise.
It is said that he never recovered
from the shock of the defeat, and in consequence
died broken hearted. Alexander
ill, the present Emperor and Autocrat of
ill the Russians, succeeded to the throne
ifter the murder of his father by Nihilist
conspirators March 13,1881. Alexander III
was born March 10, 1845, and since his elevation
to the throne has seldom appeared in
public, but has lived in the closest retirement
at Gatchina. He was crowned at
Moscow, March 27, 1883, amidst great pomp
md splendor and the coronation exercises
were chronicled even to the slightest detail
jy the newspapers at the time. He is noted
'or his sympathy with the old Kussian par;y
who are prejudical against all foreigners.
Elis younger brother, the Grand Duke Alexis,
visited the United States in 1871, and was
eceived with the greatest eclat. The eldest
child of the present Czar is a son, and
,vas born May 18,1868.
A Squirrel and Her Babies.?Old citzens
of Toledo distinctly remember the
:ime when there was an emigration of squirrels
in this vicinity. On a certain day a
jentleman was on the banks of Ten Mile
Jreek, when the number of squirrels movng
was unusually large. Among the squir els
was one that exhibited much motherly
are and affection for her two little ones as
:o prove a most interesting sight. She
eached the bank of the creek where a crossng
was to be made. The little squirrels
vere quite timid about going near to the
vater, but the mother coaxed them until
:hey seemed satisfied to do as she wished.
3he ran along the shore, and finding a piece
if bark about a foot long and six inches wide,
Iragged it to the water's edge, and pushed
t into the water so that only a part of one
md of the bark was resting on the shore,
she then induced her little ones to get on
:he bark, and they at once cuddled closely
:ogether, when the old squirrel pushed the
lark and its load into the stream, and,
aking one end of the bark in her teeth,
lushed it ahead of her until the opposite
lank was reached, when the young squirrels
quickly scampered up the bank of the
:reek, and the mother rested a few minutes,
vhen the journey was resumod.?Toledo
Blade.
STORY OF A WAMPUM BELT.
now COL. ELLICOTT KILLED A TURKEY
AND SAVED HIS LIFE.
There is in possession of the descendants of
Col. Andrew Ellicott, of Lancaster county,
Pa., a wampum belt of rare beauty and value,
which is preserved as a memento of the
shrewdness and skill of the great surveyor,
by which he not only became the possessor
of the belt, but saved his life and the lives
of many others. Directly after the purchase
of Louisiana from the French Govern;
ment, Ellicott was sent by the United
: States Government to survey the boundary
line between the new territory and Mexico,
: which then included Texas. He was ac:
companied by a large corps of engineers
and 100 government troops. They had penetrated
into the interior of the then wild
country, when one day Ellicott and hi9
engineer corps found themselves surround/-J
L?t n 1 n mr?a k a/1 it aT TJln nlf^aaf T ?/H n n o Kif
| cu uy it laigc uvuy ui i juujiviucl luuiniio, uv
I whom the entire party was captured. Colonel
Ellicott had a half-breed interpreter,
who found out that it was the intention of
the Indians to massacre the white captives,
and he informed the chiefs that his master
was a great medicine man, who could do
many wonderful things, among them his
ability to kill a man or any living thing at
a distance of one hundred yards, while the
object he shot was hidden from view behind
a tree, and he would not aim at it or shoot
through the tree. The chiefs said if the
; interpreter's master would kill a wild turkey
in that way he would give the whole
party their liberty. Colonel Ellicott was
not a good rifle shot, but he was able to do'
many clever things in shooting by means
of mechanical tricks. When the decision
of the chief was given they procured the
turkey and told Colonel Ellicott to exhibit
his power. Confident of his success, he
drove a stake in the ground a few feet beyond
the trunk of the tree with an axe.
Tying the turkey firmly to the stake so it
could not move from its position, he walked
in an oblique direction to one side of the
tree and struck the blade of hisaxe.apparently
with no design, into the ground and then
made a mark on it with chalk. Pacing off" .
the loO yards he aimed at the chalk mark
and fired. The Indian chief ran behind the
tree and brought the turkey out dead, the
ball, glancing from the axe, having passed
clear through the body, with such nicety
had Col. Ellicott calculated the angles. The
principal chief was so delighted with the
feat that he unclasped the magnificent belt
he wore and fastened it about Colonel Elicott's
waist. The surveyors were given
their liberty and the belt worn by the Colonel
insured him and his party safety and
reverence during the remainder of the survey.
EXPLORING AN ALASKAN RIVER.
? m *
PL Ays OF LIEUTES AST 8TONEY Ay J) II IS
PARTY.
The year after the Jexinnette search steamer
Rodgers was lost, Lieutenant Stoney, of
the Navy, was sent to the Alaska coast to
I distribute presents among the natives who
Kfi/1 n i rl nrl tlift in 1 fa
nau aiucu uic icvuiuu vutwi w? wi#? iu aw?
search for the Bodgers. lie was for several
months on an island near the coast, not far
south of the mouth of the Yukon river. He
| made excursions to the mainland, and disi
covered the estuary of an apparently large
| river. He explored the river 400 miles
from its mouth, and ascertained enough to
convince him that he had discovered a
| stream which would rank among the great
rivers of the world. A party of naval offli
cers, under command of Lieutenant Stoney,
will start in a short time for Alaska to explore
this river further. A vessel is building
in San Francisco for the use of the expedition.
It will be a small steamer, with a
paddle-wheelastern, similar to those used on
the rivers of the South, and called the "ripple-kicker."
Proceeding to Alaskaassoon as
! the season will permit, the party will steam
i up Lieutenant Stoney's river as far as it
i can in the "ripple-kicker." When rapids
or other obstructions prevent further progress
by water, the steamer will be laia up
alongside the bank and left in charge of a
; boatkeeper, while the party pushes forward
i on foot. All preparations will be made to
winter on the banks of the river if necessary,
and prosecute the work of exploration
on sledges. It is probable that some of the
! outfit provided for the Greely relief expedition
will be turned over to Lieutenant
Stoney to be used in case his party winter
in Alaska. The party will be a small one,
composed almost entirely ot officers, who
have been selected already, but who have
not yet received their orders. Aside from
i the building of the steamer little expense
will attach to the expedition. The natives
in the region through which the river is
supposed to flow are friendly, and much assistance
is expected from them in the work
of exnloration. When Lieutenant Stoney
; explored the 400 miles of the river he found
I the current in some places running at a rate
I of twelve knots an hour.
HE KISSEIMTHEM ALL.
' Ex-Governor Underwood, of Kentucky,
I relates the following stumping reminiscence:
"Kentucky is a great State," he continued,
i "We have the handsomest women in the
! world; we make the best whisky, have the
I most fertile lands, rai?e the best horses, and
have the purest air. What more could be
! asked ? In addition to that, our people pull
together, and they don't like snobbishness.
I remember one time I was stumping one
of the mountain counties. I bought $25
worth of nickles and put them in my saddlebags.
Every log cabin I would come to I
would ride up and ask for a drink of water.
Well, out would come a little boy or girl
with a gourd dipper of warm water. I
would take a swallow and then drop a
: nickle in the dipper. The little one would
run in and I would go on. The child's
1 mother would come and have the fat gentleman
pointed out. The consequence was
that I got the vote of that house. Well, one
morning I rode up to a house, and a little
girl brought out a dipper of water. 1 felt in
my pocket and discovered that I hadn't
a copper. 'Little girl,' said I, 'generally I
have a nickel about me somewhere, but I
haven't to-day, so I'll give you what's the
next best thing for a girl, and that's a kiss.'
i So I got down from off my horse and kissed
her for my own blue-eyed girl at home.
Another little black-eyed girl here showed
up, and I had to kiss her for a niece of mine
whom she looked like. At this time anothi
er little girl showed up, and half a head taller
than the rest, and not to be impartial, I
kissed her, when I found that four or five
other girls had gathered and I saw that I was
in for it. So, commencing with the smallest,
I kissed each one. The change in stature
was so gradual that I didn't notice that
the last one was a full grown woman, and
right handsome at that, until I had kissed
her. Looking up I saw that there were
two or three old ladies laughing at me, and
thinking that I had made a bad break, I
lifted my hat to the young lady and begged
! her pardon and explained how it was. She
didn't seem to mind it much, but the old
' ' - i- L! 1
jauiesKepi jauguing, aim j. meu lucApiaiun
when one of them said, 'Why durn it, jedge,
she's Bill's wife.' Well, I thought, I'm in
for it; that knocks out all my votes in this
neighborhood. Well, I enquired in the next
house who Bill was, and was told that it was
i Buck Holmes, the hardest citizen in Carter
' county. Next day I had to speak at the
j courthouse, and when I came up I noticed
a gang of about twenty-five rough looking
fellows off at one side, and a big six-foot
fellow was talking to them and gesticulating
with both hands. 'Who's that?' I inquired.
'That's Buck Holmes and his gang,' was the
j reply. The cold chills commenced running
I up my back, and I shifted my revolver
around where I could reach it without
trouble and then lounged up to hear what
he was saying and get the lay of the land.
"'Well,' I heard him say, 'if the jedge
| don't ketch my vote. No snob thar, gentlemen.
Jest as soon kiss a poor man's wife
| as a rich one's.' That settled it. I got 150
more votes in that county than any other
' man on the ticket."?Pittxburg Dispatch,