University of South Carolina Libraries
FISH CULTURE. Hiuts Regarding the Propagation and Breeding of Fish. 9rom the St. Louis Times. ? If the man who causes two blades of grass to grow where one grew before is to be considered a public benefactor, what shall be said for the man who causes two fish to swim where none swam before? The cultivation and consumption of fish enter as important elements into the question of the food supply, and the sub? ject of pissiculture,. is yearly attracting greater attention, although by no means, as yet, has it excited the attention that it deserves and that it is sure to receive when the popular mind shall be fully awakened to its importance. Referring to the blade of grass comparison, it will once be admitted that a fish is much more valuable than a blade of grass, und it may also be said that it costs compara? tively little to raise him. It is only necessary to give him a fair start, and to let him alone in order that he shall in? crease and multiply and replenish the rivers with food that is -free to anybody and needed by everybody. There are but few of God's gifts to man that furnish him with flesh-producing and brain-sus? taining nutriment in a more compact, portable and convenient form than fish. The farm that raises this crop is free?no man owns it to the exclusion of another ?it requires no manure or any manner of cultivation?the crop is a sure, self-re? newing and everlasting one, unless one wantonly and wickedly waste and destroy it. , This wanton and wicked waste and de? struction are the great drawbacks to a plentiful fish supply. Because the waters are absolutely tree, every man feels him? self at liberty to exert his utmost efforts, in season and out of season, by all sorts of unhallowed pot-hunting contrivances, to get possession of the greatest possible portion of the finny' prey. The selfish? ness and greediness of mankind are re .markably manifest in this matter, and the result is that our lakes, rivers and brooks are gradually depopulated of their scaly inhabitants, until the scarcity of fish becomes a cause of general com? plaint The people are waking up, all over the country, to- the necessity of remedying this evil, not only by putting a stop to water waste and destruction, but by re? newing and enlarging the fish supply by means of stocking the lakes and rivers with young fish. Attempts are being made on an extensive scale to fill all the available waters of the country with young fish, including those that arc foreign, as well as those that arc indige? nous, to the various localities. The sys? tem under which this great work is being accomplished is known as pisciculture, or the breeding and rearing of fish. Al? though comparatively a new industry in this country, it has been practiced in China from the earliest times of which we have any record, and has been brought to a state of remarkable perfection in Italy, France and England. The style which is now universally adopted for fish breed, is the artificial fecundation of the eggs of fishes, which , is said to have been discovered in the fourteenth century by Dom Pinchon, a French monk, who bred fish in wooden boxes having ends of wickcrwork, and the bottoms covered with sand, in which the ova were deposited. The first attempts at the industrial use of the art were made in Hanover, and from that time and place it has spread and grown, until its beneficial effects arc visible over the greater part of the civil? ized world. In this country the first recorded ex? periment in the artificial propagation of fish was made in South Carolina, in 1S04. Many yeaTSf after there were successful efforts in this direction in Ohio, which were followed in 1859 by the splendid achievements of Ainsworth and Seth Green in New York, Livingston Stone in New Hampshire, and several others. Seth Green is the great apostle of pisci? culture in the United States, and to his efforts, more than to these of any other man, is the country indebted for the present progress of this important indus? try, and for the wide-spread diffusion of its benefits. By the act of congress of February 9,1871, a United States com? missioner of fish and fisheries was provid? ed for, and Prof. Baird, of the Smithso? nian institution, was appointed commis? sioner. State action on the subject had been first taken, however, the New Eng? land States being the first to move. Their example was followed by others, until fish commissions were established by law in fifteen States, viz: Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, Alabama, Ohio Michigan and California. The efforts of these commis? sions have been directed to the stocking of rivers and ponds, to the erecting of fish ways around falls- and dams, and to the procuring of protective legislation forbidding the taking of fish during the spawning season, and regulating the use of nets , and more destructive means of capture. As evidence of the success of these efforts, it may be mentioned that since; 1867, when Seth Green first turned 15,000,000 young shad into the Connecti cut4 the shad in that rjjrer have largely increased, and the "net" results have been much greater than heretofore. In the Hudson the experiment has also been very successful, as was abundantly proved by the catch of the recent sea? sons, when these excellent fish were so abundant that they were sold at whole? sale on the bank of the river for as low as one-third of the rates that had ruled previously. . The result was favorably felt here in ? St. Louis, where shad could be procured during the spring as cheap as our home fish or those from the lakes. The inodn..-operandi of fish propaga? tion has been frequently explained, but is not so extensively understood that a brief description of the process would lie uninteresting to the readers of the Time*. The system is properly known as the art i? ficial fecundation of fish spawns, it is j generally known that our fresh water hsh do "not reproduce their species in deep water, but ascend the rivers and small streams and branches as far as tin y can go, with the purpose of reaching the clear and shallow water, which is abso? lutely necessary for the successful propa? gation of their young, Every boy who has lived in the country is familial with gravelly "r]ftles" on which the iish de? posit their spawn at "shoaling" time, and has frequented those places for the pur? pose of spearing, shooting, or otherwise tapt tiring the fish, which are always in good condition at that season. Tins knowledge of the habits of the finny tribe is used to advantage in the artificial pro? pagation of fish, and nature is imitated as closely as possible, in order to produce a successful result in breeding fish. The female fish, as is well known, are. filled with eggs, which are called spawn, and in the male fish is a substance known as the milt. When the fish reach the spawning ground, the eggs become swollen and ready to drop, and the milt becomes milty, as if about to exude. The female then deposits her spawn upon a gravelly shallow, and the male follows and covers it with the milt. Thus the spawn becomes fecundated, and the rippling of the water over the gravel gently agitates it, such agitation being requisite'for the successful hatching of the fish. The period required for hatch? ing varies with the different fish and with different degrees of temperature. The spawn of shad, for instance, is hatched in seventy-two hours in water at a tempera j ture of 7S degrees, and in seven days when the temperature is GO degrees. When the fish arc first hatched, they have an umbilical sac, about three times the size of the body, which supplies them with sustenance for a period varying ac? cording to the temperature of the water, from 6 to 77 days. The fry are then able to take care of themselves, and instinc? tively seek the main current of the stream, where they are comparatively free from the enemies that destroy them in shallower water. These processes of nature are closely followed by man in the artificial fecun? dation of fish, with the additional advan? tage of preserving the minnows from their natural enemies. Female and male fish are carefully captured at spawning time, and the milt of the male are ex? pressed into a pan of water, by holding the fish as near the surface of the water as possible, while the hand is passed gently along the abdomen. The eggs are thus impregnated, and arc removed to hatching boxes, the most successful apparatus being a box patented by Zeth Green. This box has a bottom of wire gauze, sustained in the water by two float oars fastened at the sides at au angle with the top. It is anchored in the stream near tne shore, iu a gentle cur? rent that passes freely through the gauze and buoys up the eggs within. The fecundated ova, after the first formation of the fish is sccu, may be transported without injury, if packed in moist moss in glass jars or tin boxes admitting the air, at a temperature from 5 to 15 degrees above the freezing point, they may be kept packed for two weeks, and even after the lapse of six weeks they have been found uninjured. Salmon ova have kept in ice for ninety days, half of the frozen eggs being afterward hatched, and they have been transported from Eng? land to Australia, packed in moss and surrounded with ice, occupying about eighty days in the passage. In the United States, fecundated ova and young fish have been transported from New York to California, and to various other portions of the country, not only re-stocking rivers whose fish supply had been destroyed, but introducing new , varieties into numerous streams. Shad, for instance, have been transferred from the Hudson to the Sacramento river, ami to several rivers in the west and south. The latest experiment was the depositing of 100,000 young shad in Pearl river in Mississippi. It cannot be supposed that all those experiments will be successful; but it cannot be doubted that many of them will prove immensely beneficial in increasing the fish supply of the country. Shad that were placed in a tributary of the Alabama in 1848, have spread until several streams emptying into the Gulf of Mexico are stocked with them. They are found in the Escambia and ius tribu? taries on the east and on the west in the Mississippi as far up as the tributaries of the Red and Arkansas river. A number of live fish were lately received in New York from Germany, by Prof. Baird, who has shipped to Germany a large quantity of shad eggs, in return for a shipment of salmon eggs received from that country. We notice that Nashville, Tennessee, is moving in the matter of pisciculture, and efforts are being made looking to the establishment of a permanent fish com? mission in that city. The subject of fish protection has late? ly received some attention in this locali? ty ; but St. Louis and Missouri arc far behind the age with regard to piscicul? ture, and it is high time that something should be done to stock our many streams with fine qualities of fish, as well as to protect the finny tribe from waste and wanton destruction. There is no indus? try that will yield such large returns for such small expenditure, and we owe it to ourselves and our posterity to take timely and practical action upon this important subject. Moral Courage iu Daily Life. "Moral Courage" was printed in larsrc letters and put as the caption of the fol? lowing items, and placed in a conspicu? ous place on the door of a systematic merchant in New York, for constant re? ference, and furnished by him for publi? cation : Have the courage to discharge a debt while you have the money in your pocket. Have the courage to do without that which you do not need, however much your eyes may covet it. Have the courage to speak to a friend in a seedy coat, even though you are in company with a rich one, and richly at? tired. Have the courage to speak your mind when it is necessary that you should do so, and hold your tongue when it is pru? dent that you should do so. Have the courage to own that you arc poor and thus disarm poverty of its sting. Have the courage to tell ii man why you refuse to credit him. Have the courage to tell a man why von will not lend him your money. Have the courage to cut the most agreeable acquaintance you have when you are convinced that he lacks principle ?a friend should hear with his friend's infirmities, but not with his vices. Have courage to show your respect for honesty, in whatever guise it appear!*, and your contempt lor dishonesty and duplicity, by whomsoever exhibited. Have the courage to wear your old clothes until you can pay fur new ones. Have the courage to prefer comfort and propriety to fashion in all things. Have the courage to acknowledge your iguorurice, rather than to seek for knowl? edge under false pretences. Have the courage in providing an en? tertainment for your friends, not to ex? ceed your means. Andrew Johnson. The news of the death of this distin? guished man will be read with regret throughout the breadth of this land. No more remarkable figure has ever appeared upon the stage of American politics. He sprang from the mudsills, and yet walked through all the paths of life with a power and dignity, that kings born in the purple might have envied. There is no section of this country, no class of people, no wing of partisans that have not denounced him. No man has been more bufletted about by waves of hate and passion; no man more petted and beloved. No party ever held him long. There was in him a stern and abiding confidence in self, that led him to regard parlies as accidents, concurring to-day and to-morrow, disagreeing with views that he felt bound to enforce, and principles that he had determined to de? fend. He cared literally nothing for the prestige or power of partisan organiza? tion, but gave his own opinion supremacy with himself, and made his own inclina? tions imperious in his own breast. There is no man of the thousands who are at this hour writing sketches of his life, no matter what his politics may be, who will not find many chapters in Johnson's life to approve and others to condemn. He has been the hero and the contempt, in turn, of every section of this Repub? lic. The writer of this iutroduced nim to an audience of people at the Universi? ty of Virginia when he was leaving the Presidential mansion after Grant's inau? guration. A more enthusiastic ovation was never tendered to any man than he received at Charlottesvillc that day. Just a few years before that occasion, he was passing through Charlottesvillc, and a mob of the same people rushed into his car and severely maltreated him, the leader deliberately and conspicuously slapping him on the face. Through just such stormy scenes was the life that has just ended passed. And yet through them all, equally, the old man carried a strength and majesty of demeanor that was grand and Socratic. Andrew Johnson was born in Raleigh, N. C, December 29, 1S0S. When he was four years old he lost his father, who died from over-exertion in an effort to save a friend from drowning. At the age often he was apprenticed to a tailor, with whom he served seven years. His mother being very poor, he never atten? ded school a day in his life. While learning his trade, he resolved to make an effort to educate himself. His anxie? ty to be able to read was excited by an incident worthy of mention. A gentle? man of Raleigh was in the habit of visit? ing the shop and reading while the jour? neymen were at work. Iiis favorite book was a volume of the speeches of British statesmen. Johnson was deeply interes? ted, and he determined to master that book, which the owner, hearing of his ambition, had presented to him. His apprenticeship being out in the fall of 1824, he removed to Laurens C. H., S. C, where he worked two years at Iiis trade. Here he became engaged to be married, but the match was prevented by the relatives of the young lady. He then went back to Raleigh, and remained there a few mouths, when he wandered out to the West, locating at Greenville, in East Tennessee. Here he: married. From lus wife he continued to learn the rudiments of an English education. He was elected alderman in 1828, 1829 and ISMO, then chosen Mayor, and served three years. In 1885 he was elected to the Legislature, and took decided stand against u scheme for internal improve? ments. This defeated him in 1.S37. In 1839, his views having been vindicated by time, he was overwhelmingly elected in 1S40. He served as Presidential elec? tor in 1841. He was elected State Sena? tor in 1843, then to Congress, and served until 1853, when he was elected Governor of Tennessee, in an exciting cauvass, which he was opposed by Gustavus A. Henry. Re-elected 1855, beating Mcri dith P. Gentry. At the expiration of his second term, he was elected UiriteU States Senator for a full term, ending March 3,1803. When the war broke out ho espoused the cause of the Union, and became the Military Governor of Tennessee, when his administration was very severe against Southern men. He was elected in IS04 the Vice President of the United States, and became President by the death of Mr. Lincoln. During his Presidency, he was im? peached because of his fearless defense of the South and of Southern men, and escaped dethronement by a small vote. After his retiracy from the White House, he returned to his home in Tennessee, where, after remaining quiet for about two years, he re-entered politics, and after a series of stormy contests he was elected to the United States Senate. His return to the Senate was 'heralded throughout the Union as an event of National import,-and the Democrats were much elated at the probable results of his service. His name was prominently mentioned in connection with the Presi? dential nomination, and had "ic lived ho would doubtless have gone before the National Convention. He made only one speech during the one session he served in the Senate prior to his death. This one contained a terrible and master? ly arraignment of Grant ism, and pro? duced a powerful effect. The most wonderful phase of John? son's career was his power with the masses. He was the idol of the lower classes. They believed in him with an absolutism that nothing could modify. Even during his last race for the Senate, after he had been in active polities for nearly forty years, ami had occupied ev? ery office, from Alderman to President, he was elected by the clamorous demand (hat. came from all quarters, "to give the people a chance against the politicians." lie loved the people, and they loved him. The writer while silting in the Overtoil House, Memphis, during the Mardi Gras festival, saw a crowd of six or eight roughly dressed wood-haulers, stalking down the corridor. Their appearance of course excited a great deal of interest. "They arc looking for Andy Johnson," exclaimed a gentleman sitting near us. Sure enough they entered his room, and though it was filled with the aristocrats of the city, each one of these men re? ceived a kind word from the great Com? moner, and came out with his features ill a glow, and his heart full of joy. The South may well regret his death. She had nothing In fear and much to hope for in his Inline, lie would never again have deserted her. lie would have been her friend till dealh. As for his past, we should emphasize his virtues and as near as possible erase his fail I Is. We should remember him, when brought to the Presidency, by*a crime that ha<l exasperated the country against the South, in whose behalf it was alleged to have been committed, he became her friend and stood like a roclc, senseless in his sternness, between her and her ene? mies. We should remember that for the Smith's sake he threw away the easy sceptre of power, challenged the anger of a proud ami dominant party and braved the terrors of an impeachment. That one act of his. which we can never for? give?we may, in charity and kindness? forget. There is something inexpressibly sad in the death of this man who was just rising on the wave that had carried him into the depths. We think it will he generally seen in the history of individ? uals and nations that the moment of supreme possession is the moment of death. Just as all that heart can exult in is about to be enjoyed, all the exulta? tions of earth pass away with a knell and a shroud and a cloud ; just as the heights of a gratified ambition in the face of foes and dangers that seemed unconquerable, and with a sweep of power and pride in the view that dazzles and overwhelms ; just as man begins to feel he is omnipo? tent in the control of events, the eyes glaze under the touch of the grave, and the vision fades away iuto tho dark chambers of death. This man had soared to a height of which he himself did not dream. From it he was humbled by another stroke of fortune into the very dust. There he lay for long, abased, abused, discrowned, dishonored. Then he began to feel the upward im? pulse. Oh, how sweet the hope that dawned in his heart! He arose, he felt the movement, carrying him to a splen? dor of triumph, a wealth of repayment, a quivering loyfuluess of pride, almost beyond the human capacity to sustain. His eager hand, just stretched forth for the glittering prize, falls powerless to his side, ami Andrew Johnson is gathered to his fathers. At last he has "swung around the cir? cle" and is at rCySt. He died as he must have hoped to die?in power and in hon? ors?beloved by his people and respected by tho world. Let us hope that, as he closed the circle of his pilgrimage on earth, he had, as when he began it, a white soul and a heart without sin.?At? lanta Herald. Fortune Favors at Last. The death, a year ago last May, of a well known and prominent board of trade man, M/De lielloy, is well remembered by many people m Chicago, especially by those who were acquainted with the history of the unfortunate man. He was a Frenchman, and scion of one of the oldest and lirst families of France. His name and title in full were the Marquis Ayniar de lielloy. He was a man of line education, refinement and good business ability. In his early life he was a wild, adventurous youth, who spent his fortune at home, and came to America say twenty years ago. For a few years he obtained his livelihood by teaching, keeping his rank to himself, and going under the Un assuming name of M. Marechal. About this time the marquis concluded that all his wild oats were sown, and he would abandon the fast life he had previously led. He became acquainted with a handsome country girl Ironi Michigan, with whom he fell in love. She was only fifteen years old, and, from the standpoint of the adventurous and high toncd Frenchman, was unrefined and un? cultured. l>ut he was captivated by her very innocence and want of knowledge of the world, and married her. They lived happily together up to the time of his death, and six children were the re? sult of the union. As might have been expected, the noble family of the marquis turned up their titled noses at this marriage with a backwoods girl in America, and refused to recognise it or her. He several years ago became a member of the board of trade in Chicago. He there showed the same wayward, reckless traits that had been the cause of his checkered life. He made fortunes and lost them. Sometimes he was on the top wave of prosperity, and again he lived in a cave of gloom. During one of his periods of depression he took his own life, as is generally be? lieved, leaving his wife ami six children in povcrt\r. He had an insurance of $10,000 on bis life, which has never been paid, the companies resisting payment on the ground that he took his own life. A subscription among his associates on the board of trade realized i?J,?ii(J or ?2, OuO, which was used to defray his funeral expenses, and the rest given to the family. A widow with six young children and no means is a discouraging lot in Chicago or elsewhere. The oldest boy contribut? ed what he could to the support of the familv by blacking boots and selling papers. He was barefooted and ragged, and his education was received in the streets. The widow and hr-r half dozen children were as poor ami comfortless as the widow and fatherless could well be. After a time, finding it impossible to sus? tain life here, the widow, who is an ex? cellent lady, took her family and went to reside with a relative in Genesen, in this State, where she is now living in seclu? sion, and still pinched for means to make life comfortable. The story thus far is one of early reckless? ness ami waywardness, of self-exile from home, of an early marriage, of a prema? ture death, and subsequent wretchedness to the family. The concluding chapter can now he written, ami it is as romantic as anything in fiction, and it is true. In? telligence has just reached Chicago that (he Marchioness He Ik-Hoy, the mother of the family and of the Chicago De IVlloy, has died. The Cbicagoan was the eldest son of the family. All that is wanting now is for the proofs nf a legal marriage, according to tho American law to he forwarded to France, which can be easily done. The French law recog? nizes foreign marriages, contracted in friendly countries, according to the law of those countries. Consequeiillv the marriage with the Michigan girl will be held valid, and not only do the titles of the family, but one-third of the fortunes, descend to the widow and her family, now residing in Gciiesco. The widow hcrsclf becomes a marchioness-, holding the same relative position to the family as did the deceased marchioness. The oldest boy becomes a marquis. Tin* lamilv is one of the mo.-i distinguished in France. It dales ba?*k (?? I In- (Yu -ailes. Ii has furnished two cardinals and two marshals lo the nation. -C/iiaif/o Journa', Jnhj %l~ith. Disraeli's Tribute to the Author of "CMMc Harold.? The Byron memorial, which it is in? tended to erect to the memory of the great poet in England, has called from .Mr. Disraeli one of those characteristic speeches few men can make so well or with so little cllbrt. The premier touch? ed with a light, gracel'ul and gentle hand all tiie phrases of Byron's career, and de? fended the poet while scarcely seeming to praise hi in. Most of our readers have had their "Byronic days," and for their benefit we print the speech in full. Mr. Disraeli, on rising to open the pro? ceedings was loudly cheered. He said: "Ladies and gentlemen?I am happy to meet for the first time the members id' the committee who have before consulted up? on the subject which will engage our at? tention to-day. Before going further I wish to take this opportunity of attempt? ing to draw your minds to the contem? plation of the real object that we have before us. In the twelfth year of this century a poem was published by a young man which instantly commanded the sympathies of the nation. There is no instance in literary records of a success so sudden and so lasting. To uso his own words, he "'woke one morning and found himself famous." From that time for 12 years he poured out a series of complete inventions, which are not equal? ed for their number and their consistency of purpose in the literature of any couutry, ancient or modern. [Applause.J Admi? rable for many qualities, for their pictu resqueness, their wit, their passion, they ate most distinguished by their power of expression and by the sublime energy of their imagination. And then, after twelve years, he died ; he died in the full? ness of his fame, having enjoyed in his lifetime a degree of celebrity which has never fallen to the lot of any other man ?not only admired in his own country, but reverenced and adored in Europe. [Applause.] How is it, then, that after half a century has elapsed, we are met here for the first time in public meeting to devise some means of a national ex? pression of admiration and gratitude to qualities so transcendent? [Applause.] It has been said as some reason for this strange and dark neglect that the private character of this poet was not as illus? trious as his public one. When half a century has elapsed private character is scarcely an cllment in the estimate of literary genius. [Applause.] But of his private character it may be said that it was ambiguous; of it little is clearly known, and there is no man in this room?aye, I would say even in this country?that upon that subject can pre? sume to give a definite and precise opin? ion. [Loud applause.] But then, it was said as another excuse that his works were deficieut in morality, and that he indulged in too free specula? tion upon those subjects which the human mind can never penetrate, yet which it is organically formed to reverence. And yet it might be remembered that he was born in an age of contracted sympathies and restricted thought, and that much he then questioned has been since surren? dered [Applause.] If he fell, as ho uu doubtly did, into many erroneous con? clusions upon divine subjects, it may be urged for him that he was very young. [ Hear. 11 remember once Lord Lyndhur.-t disserting upon the character and eareerof Mr.Canning,and he then a&kod of some one who was present, what was the precise age at which .Mr. Canning died, lie was told that he had died at the age of 56.? "What," said Lord Lyndhurst, then ad? vanced in life, but yet in the fullness of his mental capacity "only ;"Hi; why he was a mere boy." But we must remem? ber that when Byron died he was 20 years younger than Mr. Canning, and in these speculations upon his character aud his career, that element in that wonder? ful character and that marvelous career should never be omitted. It should be remembered that wo are always on the life of one who, like those whom the gods love, died young. | Applause.] During these Do years that have elapsed, and during which no public meeting has ever been called to recognize his merits, a chorus of poetasters have unceasingly worked to decry his abilities and ulti? mately aim to deny his genius. Xo one who has traveled in Greece can ever question for a moment the place of Byron as a poet of the highest class. He has impressed his mind on that country moto than auy other poet who has exi-ted since Homer. There is not a cape, a promon? tory, a column, that he has not touched with the fire or suffused with the sweet? ness of his song. If you follow him in his Italian residence you will lind tiiat Italy was to him a source of scarcely in? ferior inspiration. But the last and greatest of his works docs not depend upon local influence. It will remain as it is now recognized an unexampled picture of human nature and the triumphant effort of the English tongue. [Loud applause] We are met here, then, to-day at last to do some jus? tice tonne of the greatest of England's sons. [Hear, hear. [ What form our feelings should take it will be for you to decide. You know, and you will know more as these proceedings continue, of what has been attempted. 1 can effectually apolo? gize for not having taken part in any proceedings, that my life is a busy and urgent one, and that I could only lend to the Committee the depth of my sym? pathy. But when 1 saw that in that movement respecting a tablet that it was sanctioned by the presence and the active interposition of one who had the proud? est and the nearest claim to interpose in such a business?I mean thesou-in-law of Byron?|cheers|?who more than 40 years ago was my companion in that Al? bania which Byron celebrated. I felt that it was under the inllucnce of kindly and able counsels. For myself, though 1 pre? sume not to dictate to this assembly what form their feelings shall assume in this respect, I will express my individual de? sire to see in some public place a sem? blance of this great spirit?-|applause]? so that the English people when they pass shall recognize .touts of the greatest masters of the English language. [Loud and long applause] - ,.a. - ?? A very pretty Sunday school song is the niie entitled, "Put your armor on, my boys." There is, however, a young lady in town, who doesn't like to hear it. Sin- s:ivs it sounds like "put your .-inns around me, boys," and it always makes her feel lonesome. ? An exchange says: "A Ithode Island man has invented a new lawn ! game. Thirteen rjvU kiss a man thirteen limes each liming (he play.'' We wish to good11c*s ihey would introduce ihc game here. up I pie Life in the "Queen of the Autiles." The London Saturday Review says: Tt is the uncertainty that gives its marked character to life'in Cuba,'as elsewhere in the West Indies. It is not exactly the "let us eat and drink, lor to-morrow we die." of the old Jamaica planters, for the Spaniard is constitutionally temper? ate, and by no means so freely disposed to hospitality as the more jovial Britain. It is not his way to keep open house for ill comers, with tables groaning under loads of European cheer, supplemented with turtle, land-crab and all manner of tropical dainties; with bullets covered with decanters tilled with the ardent wines of southern Europe, with rummers of sangaree, ami "beverage" perpetually on the ilow. lie has rather imported the more frugal fashions of the peninsula; he throws his house open in tcrtulias ami dances in place of giving dinner parties; he oilers by way of refreshment the light iced drinks which come like the nectar of Olympus in the scorched palate when the thermometer is standing at some? thing like ninety odd; you have fragrant coffee and chilly water, with azucarilos ami salvers heaped with fruits that are fair to the eye and pleasant, to the taste, although death or disease may bo the penalty of indescreet indulgence. The harp ami the guitar and piano are in these Cuban feasts, and there are unhealthy white complexions, and eyes unnaturally bright, and tigures which want of exer? cise makes over-voluptuous or which are somewhat waisted by a climate that dries the blood in the veins. But the pco takc thought for the morrow even less than in Jamaica; for, although not much given to thinking, there is a vague im? pression on them that the future is abso? lutely uncertain. There may be a few who under the strength of that impres? sion, wisely make up their minds to be content with a competency, more than they arc ever likely to want?and then to go home. But, as a rule, they rind it difiicult to stop when they are busy in the pursuit of wealth, and when every? thing is going ou prosperously. So they stay on. with the idea that Cuba is not their home, but only a place of temporary sojourn, persuading themselves that they mean to return some day with a fortune to end their lives in old" Spain. All the time they are probably conscious that the temptations to linger where they are will always be too strong for them; they will drop out of existence some sunny day, very likely when they least expect it. Yellow fever, cholera, and the terrible comtto pricto arc the scourges of the island. Malaria, in all its most malignant shapes, lurks in the richest di>tricts; in Havana itself the town is wretchedly drained, and the fresh breezes from the sea blow over the mango swamps, or are tainted by the decaying abominations that strew the beach. So life in the cap? ital is marked by a certain recklessness and an utter indifference to the morrow. The municipality pays no attention to sanitary arrangements. Wealth elbows poverty; palaces rise in the most squalid quarters, and many of the must imposing houses are whited sepulchres. About Women. Helen, of Troy, was over 40 when she perpetrated the most famous elopement on record; and as the siege of Troy last? ed a decade she must have been quite elderly, when the ill fortune of Paris re? stored* her to her husband, who is repor? ted to have received her with unquestion? ing love and gratitude. Pericles Wedded Apsasht when she was and yet after? ward, for 30 years or more, she held an undimiiiLshed ' reputation for beauty. Cleopatra was past .'10 when Antony fell under her spell, which never lessened until her death, nearly ten years after j and Livia was 33 when she won the heart of Augustus, over whom she maintained her ascendancy to the last. The extra? ordinary Diane" de Poicticrs was 30 when Henry II, of France, (the Duke of Or? leans* and just half her age) became at? tached to her ; and she was held as the first lady and most beautiful woman at court up' to the period of the monarch's death and of the accession to power of j Catherine of Medici*. Anne, of Austria, was 8$ when she was the handsomest Queen of Europe, ami when Buckingham ami Richelieu were her jealous admirers. Ninon de l'Enclfis, the most celebrated wit and beauty of her day, was the idol of three generations of the golden youth of France, and was 72 when abbe de the Bcrnis fell in love with her. A rare combination of culture, talents, ami per? sonal attractions endowed their possessor seemingly with the gilts of eternal youth, liiaitca Capelle was 38 when the CS rand Duke Francisco of Florence fell captive to her charms ami made her his wife. Louis XIV wedded Mine, de Mainteuon when .she was -IS years of age. Cathe? rine If. of Russia, was 33 when sin seized the empire of Russia and captiva? ted the (hushing young Orloff. Up to the time of her death (at 67) she seems to have retained the bewitching powers, for tho lamentations were heartfelt among all those who had ever known her per? sonally. -Mile. Mars, the tragedienne only attained the zenith of her beauty ami power between 40 and 15, when the loveliness of her hands ami anus especi? ally was celebrated throughout Europe. Miiie. Uccaniier was ?S when she was without dispute .declared to be the most beautiful woman in Europe, which rank she held for 1"> years. RESULT OF WAR.?Since the historic period, 14,000,000,000 of human beings have fallen in the battles which man has waged against man. II' this amazing number of men were lo hohl each by the hand, at arm's length, they would extend over 14,000,523 miles of ground, and en? circle the globe ROM ti nics. If onlv the forefingers of every cue of these were laid in a straight line, they would reach more than 600,000 miles beyond the moon ; allowing a person nineteen hours a day. at the rate of 0,000 per hour it would lake one person330 years to count them. ? George Washington couldn't tell a lie, ami that's what ails the average Viekshurg boy. The other day. when one of them accidentally broke a pane of j glass in a store window, it was touching to see him walk bravely into the store and up to the merchant, ami say: "Mr. I'.lank. 1 broke a pane of glass in the window there, ami you can put it lo the old man's account! Put it down as a pound of salcratus ami he'll never know the difference!" ? A philosopher assorts thai the rea? son why ladies'* teeth decay sooner than gentlemen's i ? because of the friction of the t mguc ami the swcctuCSS of the lips. Regions Where it Never Rains. Outside the zone of periodic winds and rains conies a double belt, one gird? ling the world in the northern and'the other in the southern hemisphere, the breadth and area of which are greatly modified by local circumstances, within which no rain falls. TheseJbelts are es? timated to include altogether aud area of 5,000,000 square miles,"" but it is impos? sible to make any calculation that is at all precise, because round the tracts that are entirely rainless are regions in which rain falls but rarely, which again pass gradually into the two rainy zones, through countries like Southern Palestine and the Gsiugetic plain, which, though usually rainy, are liable at intervals to years of drought. These belts of rain? less land near the tropics contain some of the most hopelessly dreary country which the world can show. Reginning wit Ii the west of the old continent, we have along the Tropic of Cancer in Af? rica the .Sahara, or Great Desert, on the southern border of which the rains cease at l(i degrees north latitude and begin again on the north at 28 degrees. Pass? ing farther cast the southern raius cease in the countries on the banks of theXile, between \S degrees and 10 degrees, and the northern begins between 27 degrees and 2S degrees. Passing into Asia there is a great rainless tract in Arabia of which we do not know the exact bounds, and it reaches through Heloeuistan over into the delta of Indus, where it does not cover more than four degrees of latitude. From this point the rainless zone turns to the northeast and extends to thirty degrees north latitude. Crossing the great Himalayan chain it includes the high table-land of Thibet, but does not appear to reach into the Chinese Empire In South Africa there is a sandy, desert, rainless tract on the north of the Orange River, between twenty-four and twenty eight degrees south latitude, and a great part of the interior of Australia seems to ne nearly or quite rainless. In North America the rainless belt includes the California Peninsula, and extends round the northern end of rhe Sierra Madre chain past Chihuahua and Monterey to the shores of the Gulfof Mexico between latitudes 24 degrees and 2? degrees. In South America it includes betwen lati? tudes 23 degrees and 27 degrees the northern province of Chili, and, through an extensive low tract in the interior of the continent belonging to the territory of the Argentine Confederation, rain is very unfreqnent and small in quantity.? Popular Science Monthly. Religion of Our Presidents. Washington was a vestryman in the Episcopal Church. Adams was a member of the parish in ISraintree. His attendance at worship was not very constant. Jefferson was an avowed skeptic, and a devout follower of Dr. Priestly. Madison and Monroe were moderate churchmen. John Qnincy Adams was a Unitarian. Jackson joined the Presbyterian church after he left office. He paid close atten? tion to the sermon, ami made a profound bow to the pulpit as.he retired. Van Buren was trained in the Reform? ed Dutch school, and attended the Epis? copal church when he attended any. Harrison cared very little for religious matters. Tyler was loose in regard to Sunday and worship. Polk, though not a professed Christian, was a regular attendant at public worship in the Presbyterian church. He occu? pied the pew opposite the ouc Jackson s.it in. General Taylor seldom ever went to church. Fillmorc, more than any other of the Presidents was an open and decided Unitarian, lie gave his influence and support to that sect. Pierce attended the Presbyterian church every Sunday morning. Buchannan was a Presbyterian. Ho walked to church ; went up the aisle in a shuffling gait; dodged into his pew. and seated in the corner, seemed wrapped in his own thoughts, paying no attention apparently to the service. Lincoln attended the Presbyterian church once a day. Grant is a trustee in the Methodist church. -m ??? Fbvkr Dust.?Dr. Luton of Rheims states that for the last four years he has treated typhoid by an absolute water di? et. Nothing but good fresh filtered water, occasionally iced, is permitted to be taken. At first, he says, it is taken with avidity, then in moderation, and at last.with signs of satiety; it is sometimes vomited at first, but is soon tolerated-; at the beginning of the treatment the bow? els may be a little relaxed, but they soon become moderate and less offensive, and after a lime constipation may ensue. The duration of this treatment depeuds upon flic progress of the disease; thatis, between four and live days of water ex? clusively may be required, if the fever lu treated as"a whole, but three or four days suffice if only the intestinal element of the disease he considered. A light alimentation may then be allowed?milk, unboiled, may be mixed with the water and given by spoonfuls, and if well sup? ported for a lime, to be followed by broth ami soup. Under this treatment the mortality is very low, no evil results ensue, and serious complications, inclu? ding visceral congestions and bed sores, at once disappear. Tub Property of Small Farmers. ?We have often had occasion to call at? tention to tlu fact that those we are accus? tomed to call "small fanners" are gener? ally the most prosperous people in the South. They are not so because small farms and very limited operations are, in themselves, best, but because these far? mers are working in harmony with their circumstances. They have accepted the situation, and put their own hands to the plough. Having small capital, and often very limited knowledge and skill, they go safely, as they see the way clear |y before them. The largo planter, on the contrary, often without any capital at all of his own. attempts on borrowed money (at fearful high rates of interest,) to conduit large operations, without closely counting the cost of risks, and fails, as any sound minded man, not in fatuated with cotton would see that ha must. This does not prove that small farms and small farming .".re necessarily most profitable, but that our operations, both as to method and to extent, inus. correspond with our capital and other circumstances.?Rural Carolinian.