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'V;!' .>: " . . - v . . ? ??1?> lewis m. grist, Proprietor. | ^it $iflrtpHtknf Jfamiljr gtctospapf r: got % |romofion of % folitical, Social, ^grinilfnral anb Commercial "Interests of % Souf|. | terms--$2.50 a year, in advance. _________ YOBKYILLE, S C., THURSDAY, APEIL 22, 1886. NO. 16. (Ngiual ftotjh Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. BY L. D. OZMOND. CHAPTER VIII. "Tom," said Mrs. Morton, the next afternoon, to her son, when he came in, "there's been a man here asking for board." "Well, mother," said Tom, "I suppose you informed him that we didn't keep boarders." Mrs. Morton looked troubled. "I did tell him that," she replied, "but somehow I hated to send mm away, no seemed terribly anxious to come. He says he wants a home; he's real lonesome, and he's delicate looking, too. Don't you think we might accommodate him, Tom?" "Why, do you want him?" a9ked her son, surprised. "I thought you objected to strangers around." "Well, yes. But, as I said before, I feel sorry for him, and he doesn't look like a person who would be apt to give much trouble." "Of course you must do as you have a fancy to, mother. It's all the same to me," said Tom. "You wouldn't mind, then?" "No, I wouldn't mind." At another time Tom would not have agreed so easily to his mother's unexpected proposition. But his mind just now was so thoroughly occupied with the all-important subject which was under his consideration, that it had no room for minor details. Mrs. Morton was not quite sure tnat me man would come back, siqpeshe had given him no positive answer; but she prepared a neat little room on the sunny side of the house, so that if he should make his appearance it would be all ready for him to occupy. And come he did, just as the suppertable was set out, and the tea-kettle humming cozily over the fire. An odd-looking man he was, with long straggling iron-gray hair hanging over his shoulders, and a rough beard of the same color covering his mouth and chin; gaunt and hollow-eyed too, as if recently from a sick bed. Tom looked at him half curiously, half-pityingly, exchanged a few words with him, and then turned his attention elsewhere. Mrs. Morton bustled around, installed him in the easiest chair, and furnished him with a cup of her fragrant tea with all possible dispatch. "Have you decided to let me come ?" he asked, as he took the cup from her hands. "Why, yes, ray son and I have been talking it over, and see no objection," said Mrs. Morton. "I'm not used to fancy cooking, or anything like that, but?'' "Fancy cooking! bread and milk will suffice me," said the stranger. "Oh, well, we can give you something better than that," rejoined the widow smiling. "Anything you have is good enough for me; you may rest assured of that. What I want is kind friends and the comfort of feellrw*. ot T hnvp lnnf hppn without either." As he spoke he drew from his pocket a check already filled in, for fifty dollars and laid it on the table. The signature was 'John Bland.' "That clinches our bargain," he observed. "I propose to pay you the same amount monthly, provided you deem it sufficient." "More than sufficient, sir, I am sure," said Mrs. Morton. "I'll board you with pleasure for twenty-five dollars and consider it ample." "Pray let the matter rest as it is," said Mr. Bland, with a gesture indicative of his wish to put the subject aside; and so it was settled. In spite of himself, Tom Morton soon began to feel an interest in the new boarder. Although quiet and reticent, the latter displayed the faculty of incorporating himself with the household intersts, while at the same time he carefully refrained from intruding his presence when it was not desired. Tom was an open-hearted, friendly young fellow, and Mr. Bland easily won his confidence, so that in a very few days, much to Mrs. Morton's satisfaction and a good deal to her suprise, the two became excellent friends. Mr. Bland wrote a great deal in private; indeed, that and reading were his favorite occupations. He was in the habit of daily making entries in a certain large book, which was not exactly a journal and not exactly a note-book, but was something of both. Perhaps a few selections from these entries might interest the reader. "It is strange, this life I am living, in daily intercourse with one whom I ought to consider my enemy. But sore as my heart is, I am not conscious of any sentiment of anger against, him. He has never wronged me. It is I, in fact, who have injured him " "It is quite by chance that I have found out that episode of his life?of both their lives. He talks freely to me; has done so especially of late; and I have learned that he loved her from the time he was a mere boy. And the sting of it is that she returned his love?then. And now ?" "Well, that I do not know. He does not know either. What am I to think ? How am I to act? I must never forget my solemn vow to consider her happiness, her welfare alone. Yes, I shall certainly keep that vow, cost me what it may." "Patience, oh, patience! I must watch and wait " "Last night I was in her garden again? my garden, as it would be, if?but I must not think of that; no, no, I must and will \r\r\ rlrvu?n "Rnfr. tn ha KtJtTJJ UIC ICllipiailUII UU11 [J! i/uu l>y UV within arm's length of her?to see her beautiful face so near mine, and keep silent and hidden?oh, that is a task ! Suppose, some evening, as I lurk there like a thief watching her, the fancy should seize me to step out and call her name?and I should yield to it? What would happen, I wonder? Would she faint, or cry out? would she hide her eyes from the sight of me? or would she give ine a welcome in that gentle, subdued fashion of hers?would she even feel a little glad to find that I am alive after all?" "Would to God I could find an answer to all this!" " I think sometimes that I am a little mad. Such odd, preposterous notions come into my head! And dreams?oh, such dreams! Last night it seemed to me that I was in my coffin again, but not in the hospital; it was right here, in this room, and, instead of the medical students, Susan and Morton were talking about me, but never guessing who I was. I don't remember what they said, only, from the way in which they spoke to one another, I knew they were married. And I woke crying out "It is better so." For if I knew for certain that she loved him still, would it not bo truly far better that I were covered up and laid away where I could never cross their happiness again ?" "Why couldn't old Dean have been honest and spoken the truth from the beginning? It would have cost me a pang, but how slight a one compared with that I feel now. How could I know her heart was already given away? And she was always good to me, poor girl. It must have been a hard life for her. Yes, she was very good " "Under some circumstances, I wonder if an overdose of laudanum would be a crime? For the sake of another?and one so deserving ?" "T must, wait and see." The widow Morton was knitting quietly in her little back parlor one afternoon, when her boarder came in. She smiled a wel- < come to him, for she had grown rather fond < of his company; and sitting down near her, i he watched her for a minute or two in silence. "Mrs. Morton," he began abruptly, at length, "that is a fine large house, situated beyond the hill, over there." "The white house,you mean?" i "Yes. It belongs to?let me see, what is j the name?" i A certain hard look came into the wid- < ow's face. i "It belongs to Mrs. Barton," she said, in a tone corresponding to the look. "Barton; yes, that's the name. Quite a young woman, isn't she?" "Yes, quite young. "And very wealthy?" "Her husband left her considerable mon- j ey." "Yes. She is an old friend of your family, I believe." "I have known her a good while?well, in fact, since she was a child. But I've i seen very little of her for two or three years | past." "Indeed?" Mr. Bland's tone was indicative of an interest in the subject and a desire to hear more. "Yes. Our ways lie in different directions now. Before she married she was? well, I thought her a nice girl." And how?may I ask?did her marriage affect your opinion of her?" Mrs. Morton dropped a stitch, and occupied herself for a minute in taking it up. Perhaps her hands were trembling. At any rate, her voice betrayed a slight unsteadiness when she spoke again. "You couldn't expect, Mr. Blaud, that I'd i continue to feel very kindly toward a girl who'd led my son to believe that she preferred him, and then went and married J somebody else." "And did she do so?" "Well," said Mrs. Morton with a heightened color, "of course it's a family affair, 1 and my son wouldn't thank me, perhaps, for talking about it. But you are different { from other people, so I don't mind telling 1 you that he did like Susie very much? 1 Mrs. Barton, I mean?when she was Susie Dean. A nice, innocent young thing she 1 always seemed, and so she was, I sup- * pose, at that time. But this rich man came 1 in her way,and unluckily?or luckily, maybe for Tom?she showed herself in her true colors. I had never suspected her of being mercenary, I'm sure." "Was she engaged to your son ?" "No, not that I know of; but then I can't be sure, for of course Tom has spoken very little on the subject. Anyway, there was an understanding; and he was terribly cut up by her marriage. How can I think well of her," said the widow with indignant tears in her eyes, "when she has marred my poor boy's life? I can't make him forget her, try as I may." "He was very much attached to her then ?" "Yes, he was." "Well, I have heard somethingabout this before, Mrs. Morton," said Mr. Bland mildly. "But perhaps Susan?Mrs. Barton?was not as much to blame as you suppose. What proof have you that she married for money ?" "There was nothing else to marry for," replied Mrs. Morton. "Was her husband, then, so unattractive ?" "Well, he was a good enough man, I suppose; I never knew anything against him. But he was next to a stranger to Susie; she : knew very little about him, and it was hard- i ly reasonable to think that she'd fall in love 1 with him so suddenly, when everybody, or or almost everybody, knew she'd been < keeping company with my son." < Mr. Bland smiled a little, but it was rath- i era sad smile. The emphasis laid by the speaker on the personal pronoun showed ' plainly how preposterous, to her thinking, ' was the idea of any comparison in such a ' case. How could any one who had the good < fortune to be admired by her Tom possibly fancy another man ? 1 "Was her married life unhappy V" was his next question. "I don't know anything about her mar- ' ried life, Mr. Bland. They went off right 1 after the wedding, and stayed away till busi- 1 ness called him West. Then he brought 1 L"- 1? ~ o rwl lftff linr thorp ' Ut?r UUIIlt? Ill IltTI Klllici O ill 1VI 1V1V I1V? and went to California." ! "California, eh ? and died out there?" "Yes, in San Francisco. Quite sudden his death was, too." "How was she affected by the news ?" "Oh! well, I don't know. Some said she 1 was awfully cast down, others said she was pretty cool and didn't show much feeling. 1 At any rate, I believe she's got pretty well ' over it by this time." ' If Mrs. Morton's tone had a touch of bit- 1 terness now, which it had lacked in the bygone days when she had loved Susie and 1 looked forward to receiving her as a daughter, it was not inexcusable under the present circumstances. No elderly woman feels charitably towards a young woman who has trifled with the affections of her (the former's) son ; particularly when the said son is still kindly disposed towards the unworthy : one, and shows a tendency to disregard the maternal warning and adhere to his own views. And it was a great grief to Tom's mother that this shadow had come between them ; not cooling their muium aiiecuun perhaps, but certainly throwing over their intercourse a constraint which it had never , before felt. . "Her husband has been dead?how long?" "It's a little over a year?fourteen months, may be." "Well, she is at liberty, then, to marry again, I suppose. Has she?does she recip- , rocate your son's regard at the present , time?" "I can't tell. All I know is, she's not worthy of Tom, and I wish he'd give up thinking about her." "Hut, Mrs. Morton, are not you a little < hard on them both ? Suppose their happiness depends upon each other?" "I don't believe it does," said Mrs. Mor ton. "If Tom would exercise his will a , little, he could break away from this fancy ! easily enough." "And how about her?" "Well, Mr. Bland, to be candid with you, | I don't think I need trouble myself about her." "If your son should marry her, however, your kind heart would, I am sure, prompt you to give her a motherly welcome." "Mr. Bland," said Mrs. Morton, laying her knitting on her lap and speaking very earnestly, "I don't want you to think me uncharitable or unchristian, nor, I hope, am I so. But to tell you the truth, I cannot respect any girl who has acted like Susie Dean. You needn't tell me she did not marry Amos Barton for his money, because everybody knows that she did. She worked hard at home; her father was irritable and exacting, there were a lot of spoiled children to look after, and I suppose she was tirea 0111 all, and thought it would be a fine thing to be rich and live at her ease. Barton may have been a good man?I never heard anything against him?but you can never persuade me that she loved him. He was a great deal older than 9he was, and not at all good-looking; a commonplace stupid sort of a man, in fact. And my Tom, though I do say i t, is as handsome and bright a young fellow as one often sees?don't you think so yourself, Mr. Bland ?" "There can be no doubt of that, Mrs. Morton. You have every reason to be proud of him." "I know you think well of him, or I shouldn't have praised him to you this way," said the gratified widow. "Indeed, if I wasn't sure of your being his friend, I would never have dreamed of talking so freely to you of his affairs. And I fancied, somehow, that perhaps he had told you a little of them himself. I know he thinks very highly of your advice." "He has not asked my advice?indeed, on this matter I should not feel myself competent to give it. But I have gathered something of the state of affairs between Mrs. Barton and himseif, from what he told me. You are quite right in saying that you know me to be his friend; and what is more, though you may be surprised to hear it, I am her friend?Mrs. Barton's?also, though she is not aware even of my existence." "You don't say so ! How do you make that out, Mr. Bland?" "I knew her husband very well indeedall his life in fact. And he wasn't a bad fellow, I assure you. He was not attractive, as you say ; but he had good intentions, and?and?really loved his wife deeply." Here Mr. Bland coughed and jumped up from his chair. "I have been talking too long, Mrs. Morton and must go to my room." "I think you had better not repeat our conversation to your son, perhaps. 11 could Jo no good, you know. And he might think I wanted to pry into his affairs." "No, I won't tell him," said Mrs. Morton, a little mystified by his sudden change r*f mnnnnp And \fr Klnnrl nfT tn his Ji maii^ vnv4 A/iiiMv. < v* w room. [to be continued.] aananoMMBMi If. M. HOXIE. During the great labor strike on the Gould system of railroads, no name was brought more prominently before the public than that of II. M. Iloxie, vice-president of the Wabash system. So great is Mr. Gould's opinion of him, that when it was determined to settle the difficulty by arbitration, the matter was placed in his charge. H. M. Hoxie has had an interesting career. He was a poor boy in Polk county, Iowa, at the time when immigration was pouring into that State. He became the hostler of a country hotel, and thus became acquainted with many prominent men, who stopped at the establishment, on their western way. At the time of the outbreak of the war he had grown to manhood, and had entered local politics. Somewhere in 1864-Go he became Chairman of the Iowa State Central Committee, and managed his State so successfully, rolling up majorities approximating 50,000, that he was made a United States marshal, as a reward. Just after the reconstruction he removed to Palestine, Texas, and there became connected with the management of the International Railroad. He soon showed that he had in him the qualities of a great railroad manager. When Mr. Gould bought up a large number of the railroads of the Southwest, and had consolidated them under the general name of the Wabash system, Mr. Hoxie was L'hosen as first vice-president, and made his headquarters at St. Louis. lie is a shrewd, quick-witted man, of few words, but prompt in decision and in action, when he has once made up his mind, ilis varied work has brought him into contact with all kinds of j people, and his thorough knowledge of hu-1 man nature enables him to deal intelligent- j ly with the questions that arise in the man-1 agement of his railroad affairs. Neatness in Women.?A woman may be handsome or remarkably attractive in various ways, but if she is not personally neat she cannot hope to win admiration. Fine clothes will not conceal the slattern. A young woman with her hair always in disorder and her clothes hanging about her i as if suspended from a prop, is always re-! pulsive. Slattern is written on her person ! from the crown of her head to the soles of i her feet, and if she wins a husband he will I turn out, in all probability, either an idle j fool or a drunken ruffian. The bringing up of daughters to be able to work, talk and act like honest, sensible young women, is ! the special task of all mothers, and in the i industrial ranks there is imposed also the prime obligation of learning to respect household work for its own sake and for the comfort and happiness it will bring in the future. Housework is a drudgery, but it must be done by somebody, and had better be well done than ill done. HJiSfdlaitcflttS fUadiug. For the Yorkville Enquirer. TECHNICAL EDUCATION. A FEW WORDS TO FARMERS ABOUT THE EDUCATIONAL WANTS OF THE S OUTIICAPT. TILLMAN'S IDEAL COLLEGE, ETC. NO II. In my article, published last week, I showed advantages based on economy whereby a college with a well equipped coordinate Agricultural Department is better than an exclusively agricultural college. The next reason I offer is, Second?As a University is an established and thoroughly organized institution, as it generally has larger resources and as its courses are certainly more advanced and extensive, it necessarily offers advantages superior to those of the new agricultural college proposed. Each of its departments feels the ofimnlnftnrv Inflndnpp nf tho nfhnrQ fho cjfn OVIIUUIUVIIlg lunuwuw w a vtiv vvitv* V J v>iv wvm dents in its varied courses are fired by the generous rivalry *$itid example of those pursuing studies, different from their own. There is the enthusiasm of numbers, the friction of inind against mind, the quickening impulse of a large corps of teachers, the stirring and ennobling traditions of a historic past. These influences may, at first glance, appear imaginary; they are real, potent and valuable; they go far toward making up the true intellectual life of a college. The advantages of a university connection are recognized by the schools of law, medicine, science and theology?and in Germany, where the best educational work of the world is done, it is held that for the best results the agricultural school should be also a part of the university system. Capt. Tillman suggests class legislation for South Carolina. He would turn every man who is not a farmer out of the Legislature. The farmer is already in majority and no other class objects; but the farmer, on account of his partial training or one-sided development, falls before the rhetoric and logic of the liberally educated adversary. Is not class education surely as objectionable as class legislation? Now, Gen. Lee actually boasts that his college is patronized by the laboring classes only. And yet, he declares that his students are educated not only as farmers but also as citizens. Should not the future rulers of the State?and in the Southern States the farmers are the ruling body?be educated equally with those they are to govern ? dtnck flio ofpAnrvacf omnmnnfc in ftwrw V/UC KJ1 l/HU OilVllgV^V Iti^uuivuvu a mm i?? v wa of a State College is that it keeps down sectional and sectarian prejudices by drawing to a common centre young men from all parts of the State. Is it not more important to throw together at the formative period of their lives the youth of every claw and condition of our people? Against this connection Capt. Tillman and the advocates of a purely agricultural college urge, that precedence will be given literary and other studies and the agricultural course depreciated correspondingly. This objection will no longer apply, for, in the greater number of institutions, notably in the South Carolina College, that most jealously guarded of degrees, the Bachelor of Arts, is now open to agricultural students. To urge the above objection is a confession of inferiority of agricultural studies which neither the President of that College nor myself can ever admit. Isolation is not conducive to education. In order to obtain a mastery of the principles underlying his calling the farmer cannot be too well educated in the related sciences. IIow can he secure this in a college like the one in Mississippi (Gen. Lee's) where but little more than the rudiments, possessed by a ten year old child, are required for admission? Where one half of the day is taken up in military drill and manual labor and the course of tour years is, consequently practically, reduced to but two? How much science is it possible to give to a student with such preparation in this limited time? It is claimed also, remember, that within the same period the necessary general culture is given. The Mississippi institution has been held up to our farmers as the perfect ideal of an Agricultural College, the establishment of which in our midst would usher in the agricultural millenium. Now, is it not a little strange it has not done so iu Mississippi, where the lien law was repealed only a few weeks ago on account of the terrible agricultural depression ? Let us examine the methods and working of Capt. T's "beau ideal." In the nominal four years, course of 36 months (session 9 months each) with 3 hours per week in each study, Algebra, Geometry and Trigonometry together are studied for 18 months, English 1(B months, Agricultural Chemistry and Writing each 9 months, Botany 7i months, Mechanics and Drawing each 6 months, Natural Philosophy, Book-keeping, Horticulture, Veterinary Science, Agricultural Chemisty, Physical Geography, English Literature, Military Tactics, Physics, Geology, Mineralogy, Meteorology, Astronomy, Civil Engineering, Art of Criticism, Zoology, Moral Science and Entomology each three months (!) Anatomy, Physiology, Political Economy, Constitution of U. S., Military Sciencc(!) and General Literature each six weeks !! If such courses give anything but the merest smattering, then the whole of Europe, with its superb educational methods and machinery, are at fault. Why even in the graded schools of our smaller towns the course in any science is never less than fourteen weeks. In the corresponding courses of the South Carolina College, for which Mr. Tillman professes such unmeasured contempt, 3G months of Chemistry, 28 of Mathematics, 9 of Physics, 9 of Surveying, 9 of Mechanics, 9 of Agriculture, 9 of Agricultural Chemistry, 9 of Botany, 9 of Mineralogy, 9 of Geology, 9 of Political Economy, 4} of Zoology, the same of Physiology, the same of Astronomy, English 9 months, History!) months, and French and German each 22} months. Surely if time is an element of thoroughness in teaching, then the course at the State College will not suffer by comparison with "Gen. Lee's" agricultural machineA gentleman of eminent educational attainment and influence, well acquainted with the qualifications and antecedents of the professors in the Mississippi college, says, "It is claiming very little for our teachers of the same branches at the South Carolina College to assert that they are fully their equals." It is not necessary that the manual labor on the farm be done by the students. It has no place in this advanced system of education. Such work as hoeing, grubbing, ditching, forking manure, etc., is not instructive in itself?it is irksome and distasteful to students of any promise, and even in agricultural colleges such work is shirked. It sadly interferes with study. You have only to question the graduates of the Michigan Agricultural College?incomparably superior to Gen. Lee's Mississippi imitation?to learn that the longer the stu-1 dent remains there the more he shirks and | the poorer the quality of his work. That such provision is necessary to assert the dignity of labor is mere rubbish. Willingness to work is part of the man?not of the system. Who will say that Joe Brown of Georgia, or Jay Gould do not know how to run a railroad or system of railroads because they do not know how to grease a truck or clean up a locomotive? What do you want, hands or brains, to direct your own and other hands? Who will say, that two yearsinthe ditch, or grubbing up sassafras roots or at the manure pile is better spent than the same time in the lecture room and laboratory ? The principles of science should -be given in the lecture room and the application enforced in the laboratory. An experimental farm, or indeed a number of experimental stations or farms should be provided the University for Applied Agricultural Chemistry. Here the objective methods of teaching would make success certain. Such teaching is necessarily expensive, but it i9 the only thorough way of teaching science. The South Carolina College has had to face difficulties unnumbered and grevious?bitter and unrelenting opposition, persistent misrepresentations, an impoverished and discontented constituency, theconfusion and disorganization incident to the transition state between the old order of things utterly inadequate to meet the demands?many of them unjust and unreasonable?made upon it; and yet its authorities have from the first labored zealously and perseveringly to make it fulfill the purposes for which it was established, the educational advancement of the youth of every class and condition of our people. The State College is in need of an experimental station. (Massachusetts has several for her college.) The farmers of York should ?ot lose sight of the fact, that whilst Abbeville and other counties are offering sites and buildings for the experimental farm, or for Capt. Tillman's Agricultural College?if established?they have in their own county a fine 30 acre farm with barns and other outhouses and a large brick edi fice constructed for educational purposes, capable of accomodating 120 students, three wells of delicious water, admirable for dairy purposes, within less than a mile of their county seat, all of which they can secure on very reasonable terms and offer as the site of an experimental station. The vast good done to the agricultural interestof the county possessing such a farm, directed by scientific experts cannot be easily estimated. If Abbeville is wide awake, let York be also on the qui vice. J. C. Lynes, Chemist. THE DIVINING KOD IN CRIME. Of the employment of the divining rod for the detection of criminals there are many cases on record, but the most famous in comparatively recent times is that of Jacques Aymar, of Lyons. The full details of the doings of this remarkable person are given by Mr. BaringGould in his "Curious Myths of the Middle Ages;" but the story as told there is too long for us to repeat. It will do to serve our purposes to quote the following condensed version by another writer: "On July 5, 1692, a vintner and his wife were found dead in the cellar of their shop at Lyons. They had been killed by blows from a hedging-knife, and their money had been stolen. The culprits could not be discovered, and a neighbor took upon him to bring to Lyons a peasant out of Dauphine named Jacques Aymar, a man noted for his skill with the divining rod. The lieutenant-criminal and the procureur du roi took Aimar into the cellar, furnishing him with a rod of the first wood that came to hand. According to the procureur du roi the rod did not move till Aymar reached the very spot where the crime had been committed. His pulse then beat and the wand twisted rapidly. Guided by the wand or by some internal sensation, Aymar now pursued the track of the assassins, entered the court of the Archbishop's palace, left the town by the bridge over the lthone, and followed the right bank of the river. He reached a gardner's house, where he declared the men had entered, and some children confessed that three men?whom they described?had come into the house one Sunday morning. Aymar followed the track up the river, pointed out all the places where the men had landed, and to make a long story short, - 1 ' ~ * 4-Vw? /Iaam /\f t K a ?M?IeAn a f SlOppCU ill JllSl ill illuwwi ui Ult |mijuii ui Beaucaire. He was admitted, looked at the prisoners and picked out as the murderer a little hunchback, who had just been brought in for a small theft. The hunchback was taken to Lyons, and he was recognized on the way by the people at all the stages where he had stopped. At Lyons he was examined in the usual manner, and confessed that he had been an accomplice in the crime, and had guarded the door. Aymar pursued the other culprits to the coast, followed them by sea, landed where they * * ' > 1 -_i? ,1?i, So naa lanaeci aim umy uusistcu num mo search when they crossed the frontier. As for the hunchback, he was broken on the wheel, being condemned on his own con- , fession." Tiie History of tiie Cuoss.?In a recent sermon on the history of the cross, Bev. Ilebert Newton said: ,#There is no doubt that the cross was a pre-Christian symbol. In the British museum a colossal tablet from Nimroud displays a cross hanging from the breast of Tiglath Pileser. Dr. Schilemann found this figure on terra cotta disks at Troy, in the fourth or lowest stratum of his excavations, dating, as he supposes, from a period of about 2,500 years before , Christ. In the Crypriote collection of the Metronolitan Museum of Art you may , look upon miniature human figures extended to form the sacred sign of the cross, which in some cases, appears as the seal upon their breasts. As far as we can see the cross appears thus to have been a world old, world-wide sacred symbol. "The cross is a device which would naturally have suggested itself to primitive man as one of the simplest and most necessary forms in nature. We find in the i earliest known religion the use of the cross : in initiating candidates into the higher ! life. Chistianity as the liower of Pagan- | ism must needs have reproduced these an- < cient truths in fresh and higher forms. No < other sign could have become the symbol i of the religion which takes into itself all 1 the richest, deepest, truest religions of the i past than the cross." i MaT The largest circus in Paris accommo- < dates only 7,000 people, while one in anci- < ent Rome could hold over 100,000, where I from 1 to 400 lions were let loose at a time. I Augustus filled the arena with 3,500 i wild animals, and Probus got up a free I fight between 1,000 wild boars, 1,000 stags, i 1,000 rams and 1,000 ostriches, and the occu- < pants of the upper galleries had the right i to shoot arrows and javelins into the melee, i FACTS ABOUT THE BIBLE. ITS TRANSLATION INTO TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTT-TUREE LANGUAGES. It is interesting to note a demand that still exists for some of the earliest versions of the Bible which, though antiquated in form, are still used in church services and by scholars. Among these are the Syriac, Coptic, Ethiopic, Armenian, Georgian and Latin. Versions were made at an early date in Arabic, Persian and Amharic also. A large number of versions came into being in connection with the reformation, and before the year 1650 every country in Europe except Portugal, Russia and Turkey had at least the New Testament, and generally the Bible, in a language spoken by a great majority of its people. The versions originating outside of Europe, with a few exceptions, have been made almost within the life-time of men now living, and they illustrate the dependence of modern efforts to evangelize the world upon the printed scriptures and the desire of missionaries to furnish them to their adherents. It should be remembered, however, that only a small part of the work of translating has yet been done. Numerous languages and dialects are spoken, especially in Africa, which have riot even been studied by scholars from Christian lands, and one hundred and seventy translations of the American Bible society represent but fifty-six ' translations of the entire Bible, of which thirty-five were circulated in Asia, nine in Africa, nine in the islands of the Pacific ^ and only three on the continent of America, j Since the era of Bible societies began, j the Christian scholarship of-the world has produced not far from 300 versions of the Bible or parts of it, and 263 languages and dialects have thus, for the first time, been enriched with the literature of the book. For the making of new versions, involving as it has, in many cases, the reduction of a ^ language to writing, the compilation of a dictionary and the construction of a gram- j mar, has engaged the philanthropy and indefatigable zeal of Christian missionaries of 5 various lands. { Few persons appreciate the difficulty of rendering the scriptures from the original j Hebrew and Greek into languages that j have not been previously pervaded and .1-JI i *U~. ...V.*. Tn lmrinry moiueu uy cnrisuiiu uiuugni. ?u mjiug I foundations for generations that are to fol- ( low, one may well devote to the work the energies of a life-time. The translation of j the Bible into Arabic by Dr. Eli Smith and f Dr. Van Dyck, required the labor of sixteen years. Dr. Schaufller, of Constantinople, j completed in 1874 the translation of the , Turkish version, which he began as long , ..AAMn I n iiAHQ ago as 1 sou. rmwil jtain in iuiuiuuuuo labor were spent by Dr. Schereschewsky in j rendering the Old Testament into the Man- j darin colloquial. After forty years of mis- j sionary work, Dr. Williamson and Dr. ( Riggs completed their Dakota version, and one of them estimated that he spent, on an , average, full thirty minutes on each verse , he translated. Protestant missionaries were j sent to Japan in 1859, but twenty years had , passed before their translation of the entire New Testament was ready for circulation. , These are illustrations of the labors expend- , ed by Christian missionaries in the prelim- ( inary work of preparing new versions of , scripture. UNNECESSARY WORK OF WOMEN. Elizabeth Cummings, in an exchange, i says: I am convinced that at least one j quarter of the work performed by women . is unnecessary, and that the world would j get on quite as well without it. It is like j the ottoman cover I once saw a lady work, i She was all bent up, and was putting her s eyes out counting stitches. "I don't get j any time for reading," she said, plaintive- t ly, as she picked up some beads on a needle, i "You must have a great deal of leisure." ( And yet she had spent more time embrcid- i eringa ridiculous dog on a piece of broad- i cloth than would have sufficed to read i twenty good books. It did not have the ( poor merit of being economical, for the 1 price of the materals would have bought f enough handsome damask for two covers, i A friend of mine tells of seeing a squaw seat 1 herself by the towu pump, unroll a bundle \ of calico, cut out-a dress, make it, put it on, t and walk off, all in about two hours. I ? have always regretted that he did not con- > tinue the story by telling that the squaw i spent her abundant leisure beautifully. I i would not have women reduce their sewing ? to quite so simple] a performance, but a i good deal would be gained if they thought r more about living and less about its acci- r dents. t The transcendent fact is what we are, not c what we accumulate or possess. Even 1 knowledge may be so used that it is merely an ornament, which keeps up a twinkling about the mind, like bright jewels in pretty ears, and is only a possession, and not a : part of ourselves. To fill time, to pass it busily, is not to use it. Labor in itself is ( not worthy. The meanest work that makes " J -? C home a loveiy, sacreu pmce is couatxiaicu, and fit for the hands of a queen; but delicate work that ministers to no human need, even if it has artistic merit to recommend it, if it consumes the hours a woman ought to use training her mind to think, and her eyes to see, and making her brain something more than a mere filling for her skull, is but busy idleness and a waste of time. I hope the day will come when every woman who can read will be ashamed of the "column for ladies," printed in some of our papers, and which tell with more sarcastic emphasis than any words of mine, how some women choose to spend their leisure. Surely, if they have time to follow intricate directions for making all sorts of trimming, not so good as that sold in the shops at two cents a yard, they may, if they will, find a few moments in which to read a book. A GEORGIA ROMANCE. ? About two years before the war, near a e pretty and substantial residence near a prosperous little town, a beautiful young lady, about fourteen, was sleeping in a hammock ^ swung from two stately oaks in a grove. She was a pretty picture of innocence and crrace, and won the admiration of the pass- ^ ers. In a meadow to the rear a fat, meek- ^ eyed cow reclined in the shade, ruminating ^ the food she had gathered in the cool of the morning. Across the road from the house, the girl, and the cow is a meadow, a branch j running through it, and coming up the ^ branch is a boy with a gun. When within t ene hundred yards of the girl, and about ^ mie hundred and fifty yards from the cow, a ? bird flew up and sailed in the air toward j( the cow; the boy fired at the bird, which ' flew* on unhurt, but the cow received a pret- ^ ty strong dose of shot. She immediately j. irose in fright, dashed through the grove, :aught the girl and hammock on her horns, md rushed with her shrieking victim about d the lot. The terrified girl became silent, t md the crowd of relatives and friends in pursuit thought that she was dead. The kVild fury of the cow as she rushed around soon tore the netting loose, and the girl Iropped unconsciously to the ground. She was picked up and taken into the house, and )n examination only a few minor bruises were found. The boy, thinking he was the innocent cause of the killing of the young girl, disappeared. It was thought that he bad perished by his own hand, but six years ifter the war a travel-stained stranger wa9 in the town inquiring for persons, most of whom had been swept away by the war. After a long search the stranger found an Did man on a load of wood, and in conversation with him learned where one of the V% s\ o < nnnwrtu 1i ?fa/1 o frtllf [jaiiiua lie woo 111 neaieii ui nycu, a? ICY* miles out of town. lie went there, made himself known, and turned out to be the hoy of the gun. The people he found were his father and mother, who had mourned him dead for eight years. The boy had ueen in South America, got rich, and, yearning for the love of the old folks, returned to the desolate home of his childhood and made his loved ones comfortable. For the first time, then, hearing that the jirl was uninjured, he called on her, found ier pretty, good, and a first-class home wonan. He put in with a will, got her heart is his own, and the old folks' consent, and las been for the last twelve or fourteen fears one of the leading men of his section. This is fact.?Americus (Ga.) Recorder. POINTS ABOUT THE EYE. The following facts and statements are rom a lecture by Dr. H. B. Grove on "Color 31indness and Other Peculiarities of the Eye:'' There is no cure for color blindness. The first case of color blindness was re>orted in 1777. Color blindness is due to exhaustion of lerve fibers. Vnnr in ovoru 100 mnl#?s nnrl nnp in flvprv *" V*" *" v * v* J *VM/ * " w * ""?/ 100 females are color blind. It is no sign a man is color blind because le cannot name every color. The eye of an insect contains from fifty to !0,000 small eyes. It is really composed of ;yes. We do not need light to see certain objects, sharp blow on the eye often causes a man :o "see stars." The cause of color blindness, aside from latural causes, are alcohol, tobacco and disease. It is in many cases hereditary. I once saw a man who was color blind :ake 150 colors and divide them into four groups, black, yellow, white and blue. It is nonsense to believe that there is auy particular way to rub the eyes. It makes ao difference whether you rub from or towards the nose, or up or down. The cat, horse and birds have a third eyelid, which is used to protect the eye from too much light. Man has a third eyelid in the corner of the eye, which is undevelDped. The defects of the eye are numerous, but we are pretty well satisfied with it. Every- * 3ne has a blind spot in his eye. This is proven by shutting one eye and looking at in object. We cannot see it fully. The use of the eye cups to change the form of the eye in hopes of bettering the sight is ridiculous. They draw the eye out - ? ?! i m? di snape ana alien cause onnuness. mousands of these cups are sold every year. Within a Hundred Miles of the Moon.?The largest refracting telescope in the world is now in process of construction in the modest workshop of the venerable Advan Clark, the eminent telescope maker, in Cambridgeport, Mass. The two disks of ?lass go to form the lens of the great Lick telescope, which will be placed in the observatory on the peak of Mount Hamilton, i bequest of the California millionaire, Fames Lick. These two circular glasses are valued at $25,000 each, and if destroyed they :ould not be duplicated within the next six nonths for millions of dollars. The disks verecast in Paris, the order being given ive years ago, but the failures were so numerous that they were not received by the Messrs. Clark until last September. When inished the lens will be thirty-six inches n diameter. When completed the two enses will weigh about 700 pounds. The ,vork of polishing the disk has now reached hat stage where the removal of a few grains more or less from the wrong place vould ruin them. The only instrument used s the hand smeared with rouge, a polishng substance finer than the finest emery, some idea of the power of the instrument nay be gained from the statement recently nade by an astronomer that, gazing at the noon, 240,000 miles away, that orb by this elescope will be brought to within less than >ne hundred miles from the eye of the belolder. Changes in the World's Production. 't is unsafe to assume because one com.try las control of the production of any staple hat it will always maintain it. Changes are :onstantly occurring in ways not easy to foresee. During the late war this country lost :ontrol of the cotton trade, but the enormous Drices of cotton soon after the supply was cut )ff showed clearly that we had no competitor ;hat could beat us in a fair contest. A few rears ago nearly all the sugar of commerce ,vas made from cane in Cuba and other tropcal countries. Now beet sugar has become luite as important a factor in fixing prices. So a few years ago we thought that no counry could compete with us in supplying the ,vorld with wheat. India and Russia have lone this the past two or three years. As lobody has made anything at it, nowever, he result becomes only a question of endu ance. The party who can hold out longest vill win the prize. As consumers are now retting a benefit in wheat sold at less than t costs anybody to produce it they must >xpect to make up for this by and by, when he price is as much too high as it is now oo low. "The laborer is worthy of his lire," and nothing is surer than that he will jet it provided he has patience to wait long tnough. Clean Heads.?Keeping the head perectly clean is a great aid to health. A disinguished physician, who has spent much >f his time at quarantine, said that a person rhose head was thoroughly washed every lay rarely ever took contagious diseases, iut where the hair was allowed to become lirty and matted it was hardly able to esape infection. Many persons find speedy elief for nervous headache by washing the lead thoroughly in weak soda water. We lave known cases almost wholly cured in en minutes by this simple remedy. A riend finds it the greatest relief in case of 'rose cold," the cold symptoms entirely eaving the eyes after one thorough washing f the hair. The head should be thoroughly Iried afterward, and avoid draughts of air or a little while. Foolishness rushes into publicity to Iraw attention, while intelligence keeps in he background to observe.