Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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"BY E. B. MURRAY & CO. ANDERSON, S. C, THURSDAY MORNING, MARCH 25, 1886. VOLUME XXL-- NO. 37,> fl??HJj^'?OLUMN, J. G. CLINKSCALES, Editor. i t ? Don't fail to come to the meeting of the Association. You will learn some "thing, and go home a better teacher. It is to your interest;to come; it is to-the interest of your patrons for you to come it is your doty to come. We had a visit last week from Col. A' . Coward, State Superintendent of Educa? tion. We were pleased and highly prof? ited by the many suggestions made by the Colonel, and hope, at the proper time, to submit his suggestions to the trustees and teachers of the County. He promises to attend our Teachers' Insti? tute, and regrets that it will be impossi? ble, to be with us on 27th inst. We wish his visits were more frequent. . "Should teachers ever apologia to their pupils?" Certainly. A man ought to apologize to his servant if he wrongs him. By ail means, apologize to the child entrusted to your care, if you find yon have misjudged him or wounded bis feelings without a cause. It is not low, or base, to confess a wrong: it is' more thaD base not to confess it when one sees and feels it clearly. Only the noble can make a genuine apology to a subordi nat9. Teach your pupils to be honest by ^dealing honestly with them. Never de : ceive them. If a question is asked which you cannot answer, if a subject .comes np about which yon are not posted, . have the manliness to acknowledge it. Teachers are not expected to know every thing: he who pretends to knew it all is a fraud. Children are quick .to detect - the slightest phase of deception, and . once you lose their confidence, you can nevef fully recover it. The ode thing needful with the ma* jority of teachers is patience. Patience! More patience! Let us cultivate it. Are we not disposed, to forget too often that wo teach children, aud not grown ople ? Children think as children: 21 that fact not escape you while endeav? oring to impress some lesson upon the " inindf of your pupils. Don't take too much for granted, and don't hurry t trough with explanations as if you were talking to an audience of adults. Study mhr pupils more and-yon may expect to |? better work. Dout' make the fatal mistake of giving little attention to the little ones, (any teachers break down just here. Of j lyirse it is more pleasant to teach the iced classes, but your duty is plain aid imperative. The little ones, the be giners, need more attention and will deoand more patience of you than all . thiother classes. During the first two or \hree years .of school-life the child neas more instruction than daring all thekucceeding years. Do your best won among the beginners, lay the found* atioi well,. and then - build upon it. Dom try to build upon the sand. . Thj greatness and glory of the art of j teaebng lies in the infinite possibilities aftor$d for its improvement The Greet, it is said, reached the limits in sculplre, the Italians in painting, but -in thegrandest and noblest of all arte, the artof teaching, there are absolutely, no limb; the very best teaching of to? day b 6 makes -a demand through the conditins induced for still better teach? ing in be next-generation. The worst outcom': and surest indication of poor teachini is the desire, no, positive com? mand olrnauy parents that their chil . dreu sbill be educated in precisely the v same ws and by precisely the same , methodslhat were.used to educate them. - .Civilization means progress. The barba? rian has cached his ideal aud sinks to savagery]; That education wuich does X)t leaveits possessor hungry and thirsty jg higher and better, mental ind spiritually, is a miserable make 1ft and so far a deplorable failure.? radical Teacher. Primary education consists in the de? velopment of the power of. attention ; [therefore the objects of thought and at? tention are matters of the highest im? portance. The things presented must be pare, good, and beautiful, for that to which we attend comes into the heart, and forms the basis of all our thinking and imagination; "Out of the heart the mouth speaketh." Where shall we look for the highest source of the good, the true, and the beautiful ? To the thoughts of God in nature. The study of nature is the best aud highest foundation for morality, and a preparation for the re? vealed truth that comes to the child later in life, . Compare the drill upon hiero? glyphics, empty words, and meaningless forms, with the observation of trees, flowers, animals, and the forms of earth. The one stimulates thought, and fills the mind with ideas of beauty; the other crowds the mind with useless, ugly forms that cannot, from their very mature, stimulate it to renewed action. A child's mind, filled with that which is pure and good, - has no room for wickedness and sin. The study of the natural sciences is one of the best meadftof bringing about this result.?Practical Teacher. We find we. have but a few minutes in which to prepare this for the press. Our visit to the schools in a few Townships was in some respects gratifying. We found some teachers doing good work, others not doing much. Some schools are running in old ruts, cutting them deeper and deeper; others ar? grappling new ideas, new methods, and pushing them with commendable zeal. The great want is better teachers and better houses. We can have better teachers only through the Teachers' Association and the Teach? ers' Institute; we cau have better houses only through the efforts of the citizens themselves. Many of the houses that are now mere shells could be made com? fortable and attractive at. a very little cost. In any community, the patrons of | tbc school could give at least three days' work, in the Summer, to the improve? ment of the school house; cracks could be stopped, floors could he nailed down, Dew roofs could be put od, aod do oue would miss the time. Why doo't they doit? It is a duty the pareots owe to their children and to themselves. Id some sections, the work has already been done: all such communities have our thanks and approval. It is useless to talk of having better schools until we have better houses. We do not mean extravagant or costly, but comfortable ones. We wourd call special attention to the importance of furnishing better seats for the children. It is no matter of surprise that so many children become disgusted with school-life, when we re? member the severe test to which they are put while trying to be orderly aod stu? dious when forced to set for hours upon such benches as are provided for them. Poor little things! No wonder they are bump-backed and almost deformed! No wonder they learn to bate school aod all the ideas associated therewith. Id some schools, the long, high, beaches have do backs. Men aod fathers, have mercy I We appeal to your sympathy. We appeal to your affections. We ap? peal to the tender feelings you havef?r your little ones. Doo't submit to this thing any longer! Honey as a Medicine* There can be do question as to the value of honey for throat troubles. The most famous aod successful patent med? icine of the present day, for colds, coughs aod consumption, depends to some extent upon honey as one of its soothing aod healing ingredients. A recent writer makes do mistake in stating that while honey is a welcome food, it is also claim? ed to be a medicine, or at least may be employed as its vehicle. Those who have never tried it will be surprised to learn what relief a spoonful of honey will bring when one has a worrying cough, a sore throat or bronchial irrita? tion. It is said those who have suffered, intensely from asthma have found almost instant relief from a single teaspoonful of warm honey. A professor of medicine has declared that honey disturbs the formation of fungoid growths, aod has therefore been of great use as a preventive of thrash in babies. It is also claimed that an oint? ment made of hooey aod flour is an ex? cellent remedy for boils. The medical authorities claim that its internal use caooot.be too highly praised. By its use incipient coughs, colds and catarrh, quinzy in its early stages and diphtheria in its embryo stage are destroyed by it, and also that it destroys bacteria and fungoid growth. When used continuous? ly for diseases of the palate, throat and breathing organs, it is deemed infallible. It is believed that consumption and stomach complaints would be greatly hindered by its use. Every family should have a small quantity of pure honey in the house to use in case of a sudden cold. A Charming Little Story. Several years ago a resident of one of the suburbs had the misfortune to be? come totally blind, a cataract forming over his eyes. While m this conditiou bis wife died. A young German girl, whom the unfortunate man bad never seen, .was very .attentive to the wife in her last illness, and, after her death, did what she could to make the grief stricken husband and his two little children as comfortable as possible. Such devotion did not go unrewarded. The blind man proposed aod was accept? ed. He married the faithful girl. Two children were the result of.their union. During bis years of blindness the sight? less man never lost hopes that some day he might again look into the beauties of nature and the loved ones around him. A physician was finally consulted, who agreed to attempt the removal of the cataract. The operation was successful and he from whom the light of day had been shut out so many years, saw again. He was almost beside himself with joy. A friend, who was at ooce recognized, came, leading a lady, by the hand. "Do you know who this is ?" he said to the happy fellow. "No, I do not." "That is your wife," aod theo the pair, one of whom had never seen the other, fell into each other's arms, and a domestic scene of pathetic beauty en? sued. The two children were also brought in to their father. He clasped them to his beating heart, and all the miseries of the past were forgotten in tbe pleasure of that moment. This is a true story. The actors in this life panorama, covering a period of ten years, are all alive. The husband seems as well as he ever did, and is now in business in this city.?Cincin? nati Sun. ? As the time for tbe holding of the General Conference of the Southern Methodist Church approaches, the news? paper* are beginning to foreshadow the action of tbe Conference in reference to the election of new bishops. The gen? eral opinion seems to be that tbe good of the Church requires the election of four new bishops, who shall be in the prime of life and in robust health. Several Western newspapers have published lists of the prominent clergymen who are spoken of in connection with the Epis? copacy. The lists include the following distinguished ministers: Dr. E. K, Hendrix, of Missouri; Dr. 0. P. Fitz? gerald, of California; Dr. R. A. Youug, of Tenuessee; Dr. T. C. Carter, of Louisiana; Dr. N. H. D. Wilson, of North Carolina; Dm. j. S. Key and W. H. Potter,of Georgia; Drs. W. W. Ben? nett and P. A. Peterson, of Virginia. While none of these ministers are can didates in the political sense of the word, it is said t|jat many friendly letters are being passed between delegates to tbe Conference and the leading clergymen. - mam . ? A Henry County farmer came to Clinton on the late cold wave wearing a coon skin overcoat. A west side grocer inquired: "Why don't you wear the hairy side in instead of out?" "I reckon the coon knew which side was the warm? est when he wore it, didn't he?" replied the farmer.? Clinton Advocate. ? English life insurance companies charge an extra per cent, od old bache? lors. SAM OJl SPECULATIOJf. Brother Jones After tho Chicago Ex? change. Chicago, March 12.?Rev. Sam Jones to day said in his sermon : Chicago sets the keynote for the price of every pound of meat with which the poor African in the South and the- poor white man in the North must perpetuate the lives of his family, and when men reach the point?I mean church members?if those who resist Christ want to gamble, let them rip; but, God bless you, if you are a member of your church I want to tear some of the bark off you to-night. You will catch it. The idea of a Christian man gambling in the bread and meat of negroes, and poor white people! God bless you, that exchange down there, if you don't mend, is going to throw out enough wood to feed tbe Communistic fires of damnation in this country. You mark what I tell you. You continue speculating in the meat and bread of poor people, and, G-. d bless you, you will catch it some of these days. Mark what I tell you. I know tbe sentiments I am talking now. You say that is Commu? nism. That is a lie, sir. I never uttered a Communistic sentiment in my life. Never. I am down on it. I am doing my best to keep you, sir, from having burned up everything you have got some of these days. What right have you to speculate in the commodities upon which we live in this country ? Righteous! I don't want any of that sort of money. I tell you, you pile up that sort of money for your children, it is going to ruin them after you are dead and gone. You mark what I tell you. I don't want to live in a house and raise my children with money that I have procured by means which, to say tbe least, are questionable from a Christian standpoint. I am going to lay, if I lay up a dollar at all, and I want to say I will never want to leave one of my children a cent. Why? If they are of any account they won't need it, and if they are of no account every dollar I give them will sink them. You know that. [Applause.] I would provide for my precious wife, if I could? against want as long as she might live. She has given her energy, and her all to my loved ones at my home, and if I could keep my wife from want I would do it, but not a dollar for any child I have got. I tell you what, I would rath? er my daughters would sew. for a living. FASHION. ?I will tell you what is so: I would rather my daughters would sew for a living; it would be easier for them than it.is for your daughters to keep up with the fahion with all tbe money you leave them. This is the fact; yes, it is. [Ap? plause.] It will kill your daughter quicker to keep up with tbe fashion than it will to sew for a living, and I know that a sewing-girl has a heap the nicest time. My I My! My! Society-bit I You have to sit up with the wound the balance of your life, and there is no an? tidote for it. If a rattlesnake bites, you can say whiskey will cure it. I would rather be rattlesnake-bit than whiskey bit. But I tell you, my congregation, let Us have some righteousness reigning in this country, and above all things let the church of God be honest. Let the church of God be honest. Look here 1 The church, my brother, has gravitated and gravitated, and gravi? tated until we have got down so low now that you can't teach the church up to save your life ; the world backs water on her. It is a fact; we are getting down too low. What is a man's Methodism or his Presbyterianism worth on the market here now?' How much' can a Presbyterian hypothecate his religion for in this town, and how much can be draw on it? That is the way to talk it. Here. Go down town to-morrow and say, "Look here, T want to borrow $5,000." "Well, have you got a gilt-edge security; what can you give me?" "No; I have got no security at all, but I am a Presbyterian." "01 0! you are what?" "I am a Pres? byterian." "My ! ray I ray ! you can't borrow any money on that around here." [Laughter.] Another goes and says, "I am a Methodist." "0, you can't borrow any money on that sort of a commodity around here." Go to your merchant and try to get him to credit you on your religion. He will say, "Law, just come in here; let me show you how these members of the church have swindled me. My ! my ! I can't let you have any money on your Methodism, no how; that is not worth a cent in this community." Law! Law.! brother; you talk about Bob Ingersoll; he has never been any more in my way in getting men to Christ than a broom stalk. Bob don't get in the way; no, but I will tell you who does; it is these dishonest members of the church. There is hardly an old sinner in this town that some oue, a member of some church in the town, has not got to have a. talk with him about some business transaction; and every time you preach Christ to that old sin? ner, he looks at you aud says, "See that old carcass; he is a member of the church, you know ; just make him settle up with me and then I will be religious." There is where the rub comes in; it is not Bob Ingersoll; it is dishonesty between man and man; in the church and out; that is it. STRAIGHT-EDGE RELIGION. Righteously. I want to get religion in this country that runs on that straight? edge; do what we say we will do. Down South I will tell what is so: They will turn a hard shell out of a church for taking the homestead or bankruptcy law, just like they will for stealing; they will as sure as you live. I will tell you another thing: In one town down in Georgia an old hardshell came into a store one day, with his old brown jean clothes on, aud told the merchant he wanted $200 worth of goods. The mer? chant told him he thought he had fur? nished about as many goods as he could, ami the old hardshell walked out. When he had gone the merchant turned to a man and said: "Who was that?" "He is S i and so; he is a member of the hard ?hell church down there." The merchant went to the door aud says "Mister, come back." He says, "Are ^ou a hard-shell ?" "Yes," "0, well," he says, "I will sell you all the goods I have got on credit, clerks and all; I will just close out to'you on credit; you can get anything you want here." He was a hardshell. 0,1 want to see every denominationin this country come to the point where the man, if he is a Christian at all, this world knows be is honest: that be is hone3t; and he will do what he says he will do. [Cries of "Amen."] That is what we want. I will tell you what we want in Chicago, and we want it in every place in America, and that is a revival of honesty. We don't want a revival of shouting, nor a r?rvival of singing. You all sing pretty well now. [Laughter.] But I will tell you what we want; we want a revival of honesty, honesty, hon? esty. I am down on homesteads, I am down on all that thing. "Ah," you say, "that won't do. Why, you would leave a man without a dollar in the world." God bless you, I have been left right there many a time myself. Get the idea? Many a time I have been left without a dollar in the world and had a wife and four or five children to look after, too, and not a dollar in the world. Why, what is the matter ? Would you rather be dishonest with $100 in your bank than be honest and have none ? You are dif? ferent sort of fellow to myself if that is your line. Mark what I tell you: If you handle money at all let it be honest money. I will tell you another thing. DISHONEST MEN. Whenever a man who owes money can live in a fine house, and board with his wife, and bs agent for his wife [laughing himself]?ray! my ! my! [Laughter.] Ageut for his wife! Now, sir, I want to find my shroud and get in it [laughter] before I ever get to be agent lor my wife. [Renewed laughter.] Agent for hte wife! Sister, why dont you have his name changed and make bim take your name ? Ah, brother, this agent for a wife. Now you may be all right?I am now talking about myself?you may be covered fully, but I am never going to be agent for my wife. I am never going to board with my wife. I am going to let her board with me. Look here at that man board? ing up there with his wife in a $50,000 house, and riding down these streets in a ?1,200 carriage, aud that driver sitting up there on the front seat, the finest dressed man in town. And there is the man sitting back in that carriage, and there is a poor widow walking along the street, with perhaps hardly any Bhoes on her feet. And that man in that carriage owes that poor woman $1,200 that she deposited with him. If there is any hell at all you will go there sure, sir. [Great applause.] I believe my wife loves me too well, to live in ? $40,000 house aud see a poor widow woman walking in the street barefooted, and I have gobbled up that poor woman's money. I think my wife loves too well to suffer such as that. And I tell you, my brother, this question of honesty must be brought down to plain, simple propositions. & man is honest, or be is dishonest, and I say of this speculation, if you run meat up you are taking dollars and cents out of the pockets and stomachs of the poor. If you run it down, then what ? Ah, me, I can't cry to save my life when one of you speculators gets gobbled up. I can't help but look on and say: "Gone, thank God, gone." [Laughter. 1 Gone glim? mering ! I have tried my best to feel sorry for one of these fellows, but never could get up any sympathy for him. I don't know what is the matter. Eight is right and wrong is wrong. That is the truth about them. Now we are talking about the condi? tions of Christianity, and I believe hon? esty is the bed-rock upon which we build, if we build at all. It is downright hon? esty, and I know what I am talking about. Righteous. I don't believe in your homestead nor your bankrupt laws. God bles3 you, brother, I have been where I paid the last dollar I could pay, and was still hundreds of dollars in debt. I never took a homestead though, never took the benefit of bankrupt law. I tell you another thing. When I started in a poor, starving church down in Georgia men who could have held me up said they would have more confidence in the fellow if he would pay his debts; and my precious wife, though raised far above that plane, was doing her own cooking, her own ironing, all her own housework, and I was cutting her wood and doing everything I could for her; and out of my poor meagre salary I saw ray wife reach the point where she didn't have a good dress to wear to save her life, and I didn't have a whole coat to my name, but I would go and pay $2.50 at a time ou a note ; and thank God, I ^aid the last dollar?100 cents on the dollar. [Applause.] And you can do it, too, if you try. If you can pay your debts, and you don't pay them God will put you in hell for it, and you need not mouth us here on any other proposition. [Ap? plause.] Now, if you cannot pay your debts, do your best, nnd if you cannot pay 100 cents pay a copper cent. Do your best and pay every nickle you can, and God will bless you and take you to Heaven, no doubt. But He don't take thoso people to Heaven in debt, when they could pay their debts and would not. Righteous! Righteous! Here we will drop back a-moment. I have al? ready talked for about fifteen minutes, and I will get through now as soon as I can. It will take another night to get through with this text. It is a good one, and there are fish in this stream, too?big fish. Hear! Talk about homestead and bankrupt laws! What is the matter? A fellow down in Georgia swaps his home in Heaven for a little, old, poor homestead ho can hardly make a living on if he owned it. I am sorry for that Bort. ? "What are you waiting for, little boy?" inquired a kindly old gentleman of a street urchin, who was watching each passer-by intently. "Waitin' for a long-whiskered gent smoking a seegar. Then I'll Toiler him an' git the stuh." "Do long-whiskered men smoke better cigars?"' "Naw, but dey don't smoke 'em so short." ? Coffee is said to cause almost as much heart trouble ascupid, Both have grounds for it, BILL ARP. He "Writes of the Death of his Mother? Dying Bedside- Scenes. Atlanta Constitution. "The city of A and the city of B." Sometimes when I feel sad and do not wish to feel otherwise, it is a comfort to mingle with the thoughts of others who have been sad before me. It is a good sign for a man or a woman to appear happy whether they are or not. Solemn faces are poor company, and sad ones are unwelcome, but sometimes when we are all alone we can indulge ourselves in a kind of tranquil melancholy that does us good. I was in that mood to-night and so I opened my table drawer and drew from it some of the treasures that I keep in store for such occasions. It was cot i the "Tale of Two Cities" by Dickens, for that would bring no comfort now, but it I was the two cities that Bleckley wrote about?the city of A and the city of B, a beautiful little poem of thought that no one could have written so well as Logan E. Bleckley. It begins in this way: "The one Is a cily of life, Of labor and love?of anger and strife, Of weeping and laughter and* jest, The other a host without breath, A city of silence and death, A city in peace and at rest." "Vast cities are these?and the reason they He To each other so nigh?the sole reason why Is, the people of A arc destined to die And the people of B await them hard by." The learned judge, tbe counsellor, the lover of nature, the hermit of the moun? tains, the philosopher, the poet, the friend of humanity, who always meets you with a kindly smile, still finds time and incli? nation to ponder the poetry of life and of death and to teach us lessons we should learn but fain would not. Our mother is dead ; and I know your readers will forgive me for paying tribute to her who gave me birth, and has loved and cherished me all the days of my life. For many days we have lingered and waited and watched. It seems now like she has gone on a long journey, and her farewell was sad and solemn and sweet. The last head of our house has gone? the good shepherdess whose flock have so long loved to hear her voice and listen to her counsels. Three score descendants live to call her blessed, and most of them were near to comfort her in the last hours. As they gathered around her bedside how lovingly she whispered, "good children, dear children, how good you have all been to me," and then her lips moved in silent prayer for the bless? ing of God upon her offspring. Flitfully her mind wandered from earth to heaven and heaven to earth. One time we beard her as in a whispered dream repeating the Lord's prayer. "Our Father which art in heaven"?with trembling utterance she recited the familiar words, and her voice weakened and lingered as she said, "forgive us, forgive us our trespasses," and then for a moment paused and began again, "forgive?us?our?trespasses." Too weak, too faint, 3he seemed to wait for help, and tbe prayer was finished for her. What a mystery is memory. When on the very verge of death how proudly it returns to the joys and the loves of youth? ful days. The aged one becomes young again. Pur good mother would some? times forget that we were near and thought she was once again a young and happy mother with an infant at her breast?a child she lost near sixty yjars ago. Gently would she talk to her babe and nestle it to her bosom and soothe it to sleep. Her eyes were closed, but per? haps she saw her child?who knows? Again, she saw, or thought she saw, a little grandchild by her bed, another infant from the spirit land, aud called her with loving names. She communed with the loved ones who had gone before, and they comforted her. And so from day to day, and night to night, she ling? ered between the living and the dead. If mortals are ever ministered unto as they near the dark river; if angels meet them at the shore; if such an escort? such a comfort?is vouchsafed to any, it is to the loving, long faithful mothers, whose children have gone before. Fath? ers may forget and the love of brothers and sisters grow cold to the dead, but a mother's never. Her offspring is part of her life, and by day and by night when no one knoweth sweet memory steals away to tbe child that once nestled in her bosom and looked lovingly in her bosom and looked lovingly in her eyes. Blessings on the good mothers of the land, for there are thousands of them, thou sands who live and love and cherish, who have suffered and wept and still were strong?strong in faith and hope and charity. Wheu a great soldier dies eloquent voices from a thousand pulpits sound bis praises, and the text is, "Kuow ye not that a good man and a prince bath this day fallen in Israel?" David said this of Abner, his euctny, but our moth? ers are our dearest friend, and their vic? tories are won every day for years and years, and are clean of.blood. Patiently the good mother suffers and endures. Sometimes she dies that her child may live. She weeps and smiles. Uer love is constant and unchanging; beginning with our life and ending with her own. Times without number, in all ages, has tbe world paid tribute to her devotion, and times without number let mankind continue to bring tribute. It is her due, but cannot pay the debt. Let 113 do what we can?burn incense upon her al? tars and strew flowers upon her grave. How the lines of life diverge from a single pair of aged parents. Here are children and grandchildren and great grandchildren, and every year brings new lives as the generations mate and marry. All of them have a common blood that came down from tbe same fountain and they should have a common reverence for their ancestors. If the spirits of father and mother du watch over their children, how it must grieve them to see alienation and discord. What a miserable spectacle when they wrangle over the perishing property that was left, aud dishonor the parents who loved and nourished ihim. There is a world of interest in these patriarchal families, these fathers and mothers, who look down upon the gener? ations that sprung from them. What solemn responsibilities tire up m i s all concerning the future of those who carry our blood in their veins. Will they make good citizens, good nabors, good friends and live for God and their country, or will they not? Will the government we live under stand sure with its liberty and its blessings, and protect our children's children, or will corruption and the love of mammon un? dermine and destroy it, and our offspring? become the prey and the slaves of tyrants? God knoweth. As I looked around upon my mother'u offsprings and counted all, both presant and absent, I ruminated over the possi? bilities of population. It is a curious problem. I have now in mind an aged couple who still live to overlook and bless more than one hundred and fifty descen? dants. How it honors and dignifies their gray hair to look away back through more than three score years of wedded life with its humble beginning across the ocean, and now upon the four generations that surround them here in their adopted land. I have heard of a woman in South Carolina who was married when sixteen years of age, and had twelve children, when she was thirty-five, and died when she was one hundred aud fou^ and it was said that she had, when she died, over one thousand descendants. This was not only possible, but probable, and if her children and those who came after, were equally fruitful, the number would have been three thousand, instead of one. Almost any school boy can do the sum. But such is not life as we find it.. If it were so, the world could not long contain its people or give them standing room. A thousand to one in a century is more than mother earth could long sustain, and would soon precipitate that new heaven and new earth which will surely come. The city of A is lively and fast growing full. The city of B takes little room for its people, and this is well, for if the dead required as much space as the living, the whole earth would be a charnel house. If all the millions who have died in the ages past were given a separate grave upon its surface, it would be but a step from one to another now. Ten feet square would cover each oue of them. The city of B is a good place to visit sometimes. Go there aloue or with a friend, and com? mune with the dead, and ponder the ways of God to man. Go tbere sometimes and learn the way and be familiar with the place; for go we must, sooner or later, and we should not go as strangers. It costs nothing to go or stay. "How costly is life. What countless expense To temper the blood and comfort the sense, And nourish the mind and chasten the breast, And keep the heart ruled in its stormy unrest. But death unto all is offered so cheap, There's nothing to pay, save falling asleep, Just closing the eyes and ceasing to weep." Bill Arp. A Deserted Wife Marries Twice And Returns To Her First Love. Some time ago Rufus Warren Nye, of Sodus, Wayne county, N. Y., married Miss Olive Rose, of Sodus Center. A boy was boru to them one year later, and soon afterward the father in a fit of anger over some domestic misunderstanding, abandoned his family and went to Mich? igan. No one knew where he had gone, and the suspision that be had been foully dealt with spread itself through the com? munity. Months passed by and yeais, and still he did not return. Mrs. Nye mourning him as dead, listened to the suit of a Mr. Hiller, who had courted her previous to her marriage with Nye, and in 1874, allowed him to lead her to the altar. This second husband died two years afterward, and the woman, in 1881, again threw off her mourning weeds, and was married to a man named Kerns, with whom she lived Happily until their separation, a few days ago. Nye, meanwhile, instead of being dead as his wife and all his other relatives supposed, had been accumulating a for? tune in the logging business among the wilds of Michigan. About two weeks ago he took it into his head to indulge himself in a pleasure trip, aud bought a ticket from East Saginaw to Suspension Bridge and return. When he touched the boundary of New York State the memory of bygone days rose strong within him, and he resolved to proceed as far as Syracuse and hunt up his brother James, who was living there at the time of his departure. He arrived at that city only to find that his brother had long ago moved to Troy. He hurried ou to that place, and, after some difficulty, succeed? ed in finding James. He listened to his brother's entreaties, and Saturday last started with him for his old home in Wayne county. They reached Newark late at night, and went to the house of H. M. Fowler, a relative, with whom Nye'sson has been living for the last two years. Next morning young Nye started on horseback for Sodus, where, with the exception of a few months spent at Buf? falo, his mother had continued to live since her first husband's disappearance and told her that his father had return? ed. That afternoon (Sunday) Mrs. Nye Hillcr Kerns drove to Newark and met the man she had so long thought dead. A reconciliation took place. Mr. Nye went to Sodus the next day and had an interview with Mr. Kerns, whorecogniz cd his priority of claim to the woman and after disposing of his household ef? fects to the new found husband, started for Buffalo. Mr. and Mrs. Nye, with their son, started next evening for East Saginaw, where they intend to spend the remainder of their lives. ? A man falls iu love the same as a mule goes down with a sinking bridge: simply because he can't help it; but it seldom does him any permanent injury. The shape, of a nose, the sweep of an eye or the wave of a curl trips him up and settles his hash without an instant of warning, and there he is, the bluest kind of a captive, until marriage or some new fascination breaks the charm that binds him. He is pretty sure to love like a burning brush heap while he is about it, but the trouble is, his (lame is too ardent to be durable. He \\i:l swear to a blue eyed sprite that he loves her for all eter? nity, and within three months he will slide up to some other Imuri, in total for getfulne-s that he i ver lest a wink of sleep by being in love before.?Chicago Ledger. ? A young lady wrapped up in herself is a delicate parcel, FRIENDS IN NEED. BY AN EX-REBEL, i -1 Detroit Ffec\Prcss. A few days before tbe battle of Stone River I was ordered by General Bragg, then at Murfrecsboro, to proceed to Nashville and secure information in re? gard to Rosecrans' intentions. This information was supposed to be in pos? session of certain people in the city friendly to the Confederate cause, and I had but to call upon them and receive it. About half a mile from the Union pickets lived a farmer who supplied a milk route in the city. He was thor? oughly rebel, and after an hour's con? versation I fixed it with him that I was to drive his rig into the city, using his pass, deliver milk to regular customers, and then send the outfit back by a per? son he named. I paid him $20 in gold for this exchange, and left his home an hour before daylight. He lent me the j coat and hat he usually wore, and I had no fear of being baited by tbe pickets. When I reached the out-post I was challenged and asked for my pass. I handed it over, but it was hardly look? ed at, the officer saying: "Oh, it's you, eh ? Well, I shan't ob? ject if you fill my canteen." . He handed it up and I filled it. I saw him looking me over with sharp eyes, and uoted especially that he fastened his eyes on a finger ring of peculiar make which I bad stupidly forgotten to remove. However, nothiug further was said, and I drove on. I was stopped twice more before eutering the city, but the pass took me through, and I entered upon the work of delivering milk soon after day? light. I was not only perfectly at home in the city, but the milkman had carefully located each customer for ufe. Some of ''.he servants looked curiously at me as they came out, but others gave no heed, and I got through with the work in a couple of hcurs without any feelings of uneasiness. I left the horse at the place agreed upon, notified the party who was lio return it, and then set off, satchel in hand, to hunt up a certain person I bad been recommended to stop with. The people whom I came to see could not be approached until after dark, and although the city wa-> a beehive of bustle aud excitement, I did not want to take any chances by exposing myself. While making for the haven mentioned I stop? ped for a moment to make a small pur? chase at a store. I was waiting, for my change when I heard a soldier say to a citizen at the door: "Have you seen a man wearing a black slouch hat, a brown coat, and having a satchel in bis hand pass here?" "Seems as if I did. Who wants him?" "I do." "Oh! you belong to the provost guard." "Yes, we suspect the fellow is a spy." "Well, I think he passed here not five minutes ago, going towards the market house." The young man behind the counter was looking me square in tbe eyes. He knew I was the man wanted. Present? ly he said, speaking in low tones : "My friend, you had better go out by the back door! You'll surely be shot if tbey catch you !" I bowed my thanks and bolted for the alley. I got safely out on the street, and hf.d traveled three blocks, when I heard a yell behind me and saw three cavalry ro jn coming. Right at hand was a house with a basement, and the basement door wt.s open. I dashed into tbe place, shut and locked the door and boldly struck out for upstairs. There was no one in sight on the first floor, and I ascended to thij second. There was now a great noise in the street, and men were pounding on the doors. As I reached the upper hall a woman came out of a bedroom. "Who are you, sir?" she demanded, not seeming to he in the least alarmed. "A rebel spy! I am just from Gen. Bragg." " And the men below are after you V" ??Yes." ' Go in there. You will find clothing. Change as speedily as possible. You are ray brother George, from Illinois." While she went down stairs I pushed into the bedroom. There was a closet full of male attire, and I wasn't over three minutes making an exchange. In place of a coat f put on a morning gown, clapped a hinoking-cap on my head, and when I had thrust my feet into a pair of slippers I disposed of my old clothes by thrusting them up the fire? place chimney. There was a loaded pipe on the mantel. I lighted it and marched out into the hall just as the woman came up stairs at the head of half a dozen Federals. "What is it, Lucy !" I asked in a voice not :oo anxious. "These men arc after some one, and they s.iy he came in her-'." "We were at his heels when he entered the basement and locked the door on us," said the sergeant in command. "What a bold fellow ! And you thiuk he is in the house?" "I know it!" "Well, let us m:tke a thorough search. Sister Lucy, where is the cook !" "Gone to market." "Ah! The man may have secreted himself in the lower part of the house. Come on." I headed the soldiers in their search, and as may be imagined it was a useless one. We looked into every place where a man might have concealed himself, and the sergeant finally became discouraged and observed : "It is possible that he went out by the back door." "I thought so from the first," I replied, "but I wanted you to be satisfie 1." Opening the back basement door, and showing him a yard with the alley gate open, I continued: "The man doubtless passed out that way, i.nd is now two miles away." "I ought in be kicked for a fool," he growled. "Well, I am very much ob? liged i.o you, and hope you will excuse this interruption." "Who is the man you are af;er?" "A spy from Bragg's headquatters, or we so suspect. He came in with a milk wagon." The soldiers presently departed, and the woman said to me: "You can select a suit from the closet and make yourself at home for the day. When night comes you will know where to go." That night I got the information that I had been sent for. It came from peo? ple who expressed confidence in -their knowledge derived unconsciously from members of Rosecrans' staff, and settled the date of his movement towards Stone River. Three days later I was back at Murfreesboro; and the news I brought made an almost complete change in the position of,Bragg's line. U THE PILOT HOUSE, "You might as well come inside here, Johnny," said the pilot of one of our large steamboats to a boy who stood shiv? ering on the hurricane deck. The lad turned a pale, anxious face, and with a pitiful attempt at a smi'e, said : "Thank you, sir, but I thought there was no admittance here." "Ob, once in a while we let a friend in," said the pilot kindly, and with a sweeping glance that took his companion iu from top to toe, and seemed to pene? trate to his inmost soul. "Where're you bound?" he continued with a hearty brusqueness from which no offense could be taken. "I don't know exactly," the lad an? swered. "I'm going to Boston first, that is-" "Yes, that's about what I thought," the pPot interrupted, "if you can mauage to get there. Let me tell you something, my boy. A man in my position has every opportunity in the world to study character; and as quick as my eyes lit upon your face, I knew that you were running away from home." The only response to this was a hasty turning away of the head, and a quick, gasping sigh which sounded forlorn from one so young. "And I wouldn't be afraid to wager this steamboat that you have got a mother living, and more than that, as kind and loving a mother as ever drew breath. You wonder how I know all this," the man continued, his eyes fixed on the waste of water before him, and his steady hands guiding the great craft with perfect ease and precision ; "but you carry your mother about in your face, my lad, aud your eyes are a bad give away," he added with a smile. "No't I am going to tell you a story. You are about sixteen, I take it? Yes, I thought so. Well I was a year older when I concluded I knew more than my mother and all the rest of my relations, and skipped, just as you have. You feel that you have been the victim of injus? tice, and all the right in the universe is on your side. That was my case, but I was a fool, and so are you. There is l-j necessity of entering into particulars; but I was jealous of my older brothers and made myself believe that they were in collusion to keep me out of money that honestly belonged to me. I wanted some of the properly that was eventually coming to me, to travel with men. I was wild to see the world, aud the ridicule of my brothers, and my mother's apparent sympathy with them, made me desperate. Well, one rumpus followed another, my mother all the time trying to show me bow unjust and ridiculous my demands were, until one day I threw all affection and decency to winds, and ran away. "Now the point that I particularly want to make in this yarn, ray lad, and which I would give a great many dollars to impress upon others, is, that any fellow with a grain of bouest love in his heart for 'tis mother, is pretty suns to have something to regret as long as he lives if he hurts that mother by doing what you and I have done. In a moment of anger we say to ourselves that no one cares for us, and we care for nobody, and then some trouble comes along, and we find too late that we have only deceived our? selves. Now I tramped up and dowu the earth for six months without sending a line home or hearing a word from home; but at last there came a day when sick? ness from exposure and labor beyond my years and my strength drove me back. Not to stay or to make myself known to any one, but to take?or, I would rather say, steal?some money, or some valua? bles which I could convert into money, to bridge over the present emergency. You had no idea that you were talking with a man that had been tempted like that, eh? Well, I said to myself that I simply was taking a small share of what was mine by right. There was $10,000 held in trust for me, and it was a great pity if I could not have enough of it to purchase food and mcdiciue. 1 will do myself the credit to say that there did not appear to be any flaws in that argu? ment then, and that in every other re? spect I was an honest lad. "It required no skill to let myself into my mother's house. To slip the latch from one of the back parlor windows was the work of a moment. My mother always kept her money in a desk iu the sitting room adjoining her bedroom. I had written a note to leave there, telling her my reasons for appropriating the money. It makes my blood run cold as my thought goes back to the horrors of that night. As I softly raised the win? dow and crept into the room, I was struck, it seemed to me, with the chill of death. I had no fear of being caught? I knew the ways of the house too well for that?and I was never in my life very much afraid of anything or anybody. It was a chill that seemed to strike clear through me, causing my teeth to chatter and my heart to feel like a lump of ice in my bosom. These were novel sensa? tions, and I tried to analyze them ; but it was of no use. I found that I literally did not dare to move hand or foot in this awful blackness. I knew where the matches were formerly kep*, and could have reached them by a couple of steps, but how to take those steps was the ques? tion. At last, by a supreme effort of the will, I groped my way to the mantel? piece. There were two matches in the box. I struck one, and my hand shcok so that I was afraid it would go out before I could look about me. But it lasted long enough, my lad, to show me a sight whifu nearly killed me on the spot. Just in front of me, by the folding doors, was a collin, and I knew then that it was the presence of death in the room that had/ sent such a chill through every fiber 0' ray being. At this crisis, my boy, I reafc? ized tbe criminality of my conduct to the fullest extent. In some form or other it always comes home to everybody but tfalf most hardened and depraved : ^J^jBm my opinion that somewhere, sojfl even tlie.se are brought to an "jJB ing of the tortnre they l^M upon others. jflflj "I must look and see vB shut away from sight in but how could I ? They great crises people sometinj^B |fc quick and awful glimpse done in.their lives. I 'ieenW ber everything my mother iill to me, all her kisses, her tea Jg ers I had said at her S^e,B| heartlessncss, every mean I had ever spoken, every m disobedience. I had cm? rob her, and had found herwl But perhaps it might not beW impossible that some one cX B house could have died, I tola^ffself | But no! 1 Some agonizing intuition seemed to tell me that it was my mother, and I had killed her. God forbid that I' should not be able to do some good with ? the terrible experience! I have faced ' some dangers since, been in some tight * places ; but there is nothing seen or un? seen that would ever be to me wbajj^j was to strike that one remaining match and open that coffin lid. With a despe-.' ration which no pen or tongue can de-. scribe, I forced myself towards tbe fold " ing doors, aod then, after a pause in which the beating of the heart sounded , in my ears like the roar of artillery, X ignited the match and raised tbe lid ; but the little blaze only flashed out for a second; leaving me in total darkneea" again. Then the lid fell from my hand with a sharp click, and a moment after? wards my eldest brother and a friend rnshed in and discovered me. ?'Mother?" I gasped, pointing in my unutterable agony to the coffin. ?-" " 'Alive and well/ " was the joyful an? swer; and that was the last I knew for several days.. "The poor lifeless body that had shown me where I stood in reference to myv mother, as well as in the category of, crime, was that of a distant relative who,-; had fallen ill and died at our house. "I made a clean breast to my motbor, { and she forgave me, and loved mejuitL; petted me as only mothers know how to. And now, my boy, I want to ask you to\ go home with me to morrow and see my mother, the loveliest old lady on the; continent; and let me telegiapb to your mother in tbe morning, and then you can go back with me on the next trrgtj What do you say ?" n "I'll do it, sir, and may God bless yous for your kindness!" tbe boy answered,!, wiping away the tears that rolled down his face like rain during the telling oft this true and tragic story.?Eleanor | Kirke, in Boston Budget. ~ |1 A Secret Worth Millions. .Henry B. Courtney, the head of the ' diamond match company, died at his j home at Wilmington, Del., on Thursday . after an illness of about three months. Mr. Courtney was sixty-three-years old, and came to this country from England in 1853. He engaged in the match-, manufacture with W. H. Swift, and with j a capital of less than $50 built up tbe j most extensive business in the line irTl the United States. Mr. Courtney! possessed tbe secret of preparing thol compound of which tbe matches are made 1 and this he refuted to give any one until I recently, when his physician told him he. could not recover. A son was then given \ the formula under a sworn promise at \ secrecy not to make it known until age or affliction rendered it impossible for: him to perform the work of compounding^ it. In that event the formula is to bp ; given to another son under similar condi? tions. Courtney for many years was the only man in this country who understood, the business. He claimed that it made two English firms big fortunes while he; was in their employ, and it yielded him an individual fortune of nearly five mill? ion dollars and bis two partners nearly as much. For a long time the company enjoyed a'complete monopoly of the "Parlor Match," and the profits were enormous. Although very wealthy, in order to keep the preparation a secret, be continued bis daily work at the factory until the fumes from the chemicals used had so poisoned his system that^be was ' no longer able to do the work. The large estate will probabiy create consid? erable litigation, as it is said there are heirs-at-law iu England who will contest with those in this country in tbe distri? bution of the estate. "I Must Keep this Gate Shut." An English farmer saw a number of huntsmen coming on horseback. He did not want them to go over one of his ! fields because the crop was in such a condition that it would be injured, and perhaps destroyed, by the tramp of the horses. So, he put his hired boy at the gate, and told him not to open it. On came the hunters, and commanded bim to open the gate. He refused. They offered him money. He would not take it. Then a noblelooking man rode up, and said, "My boy, I am the Duke of Wellington, and I command you to open the gate." The boy took his cap off and said, "I am sure the Duke of Welling? ton would not wish me to disobey orders. I must keep this gate shut; no one is to pass through but with my master's ex? press permission." The Duke was pleased, and lifting his hat said: "I honor the man or boy who can be neith? er bribed nor frightened into doing wrong. With an army of such soldiers I could conquer not only the French, but the world." ? The Mississippi Legislature has re? pealed the lien law. Afier an experience of six'.een years with the law they find it docs not benefit the country, but in- 5 stead the present poor financial condition of the State is attributed largely to the existence of the law. ? A Chicago man pays $10,000 a year for one pew in church, . mm ? iff 11 Jlnr^