University of South Carolina Libraries
^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^J^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^ BY CIINKSCALES & LANGSTON. ANDERSON, S. C WEDNESDAY MOBNING, MAY 9, 1894. _VOLUME XXVIII.?NO. 45. See our Splendid New Stock of Dry Goods, Shoes, Hats, ?? mmmmmmmmmmm^mtmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmummmmmmummmmmmmm CAN OFFER CASH BUYERS SPECIAL BABGAIN8 IN GrXIf?HAMS, OUTING, MUSLIN, LAWNS, PERCALE, &c. A i&rge and splendid lino of COTT0NADES-cheap. A beautiful line of SUM? MER SHIRTS?cheap. It ^ill do as good and save yon money to see onr Stock before buying W<* still lead on onr SPECIALTIES? Flour, Coffee and Tobacco. Can sell yon MOLASSES for leu money than yon ever heard them offered before. T.ianiing our many kind friends for the large trade given as In the past, and hoping to merit the acme In the future, we are Yours very truly, BROWNLEE & YANDIVERS. TO THE PUBLIC, lend Me Your Ear and Listen. I HAYS purchased the Stock of Goods and good will of Humphreys & Co.,~who have been engaged in business in the McCully Block, two door from Hill Bros. Drug store, and have changed my place of business to theii old stand, where I will be delighted to greet my old patrons. I now have : Iarger.Stock of? fancy and Family Groceries, Confections, Ciff'nrs, Tobacco, Eto.s And nm determined to sell them, if Tow prices-be an inducement. ^ ?ivc me a call early and often, and I will guarantee satisfaction. Yours to pleace, v G. F. BIGBY. ?? QUALITY WILL TELL." X MAKE no pretensions to bur cheaper than others, bot confidently claim that when QfJAlilTY ii dcairsbla my Goo?s have few equals, if any-certainly no (superior. ' seek tiifnrhish the VERY BESTat prices consistent. " ' ??? While I was prevented from going to market by sickness, I have succeeded in get? ting a-? MAGNIFICENT STOCK OF GOODS! From ChicapoK New York. Philadelphia and Baltimore. We cordially invite all .to ?ome aud Judge for themselves as to QUA LIT Yj BEAUTY, STYLE, PRICES, *c 1 solicit a liberal share of patronage, f v Thanks for a generous past, with the hope of s continuance in the fa tu re, Respectfully, MISS LIZZIE WILLIAMS. IF YOU BELIEVE SAVED IS MONEY MADE It will pay you to examiae the BARGAINS in Wits and Vests! TAYLOR & CRAYTON Are offering thi* week! " AFTER THE RUSH. IS OVER," Y?TJ CAJS MN? WILL. B. HUBBARD, JEWELER, .'SVext Door to Farmers and Merchants Bank, WITH A FINE LINE OF EVERYTHING-IN THE JE WELRY LINE f promptness in Everything. Largest Stock, Lowest Prices. Finest Goods. Polite Attention to All. DONT FORGET that I can and will save you money on any thirg in my line?WATCHES, CLOCKS, JEWELRY, SILVERWARE SOUVENIR SFOONS of Clemson Agricultural College of my own get up. THE BIGGEST LOT OF READY MIXED PAINTS, OILS, COLORS, VARNISHES, STAINS, GLASS AND PUTTY, Ever Brought to this City. GUARANTEED?your house repainted without extra cfcarge if Paint does not give entire satisfaction. TODD & EVANS, Druggists, ANDERSON, S. C. ?845. THE 1893, OF NEWARK, N. J. A.MZI DODD, President. Assets: Market Values, $51,395,903.59. Paid to Policy Holders since Organization ; $124,558,722.56. Surplus : Massachusetts Standard, $3,661,250.01. Pofoies Absolutely Non-Forfeitable after Second Year. IN ease of lapse the-Policy la continued in force as long as its value will pay for; or, if preferred, a Paid-up Policy for its fall value ia issued in exchange. After the tiecond year Policies are incontestable, and all restrictions as to iesidence and occupation are removed. Cash Loans are made to the extent of 50 per cent, of the reservo value, where vulid assignments of the Policies can be made as collateral security. Losses paid immediately upon <completion and approval of proofs. WEBB & MATTISON, Managers for South Carolina, Anderson, S. C. SEED BARLEY AND RYE. FLOUR, HAMS LARD, And a Fancy Line of Canned Goods, For sale at Low Prices by D. S. MAXWELL & SON, NO. 5 CHIQUOLA PLACE. 19* 160-acre Farm to rent, BILL ASP'S LETTER. Arp Describes a Section Where Negroes are Scarce. Atlanta Constitution. The place I visited last in Florida was Wildwood. The name does not fit the town but it does the country adjacent on the southwest. I never was in just such a deep tangled wild wood as that wherein the famous King orange grove is planted. The giant monarjhs of the forest are there towering toward the sky,, many of them eight feet in diameter and one of them twelve, and all apparently solid and their immense limbs stretch? ing far and wide and their evergreen foliage hiding the sunlight and casting over all a shadow and a fear. Under I neath them was found a chaparral of I wild oranges, and of these the larger ones were cut down and the smaller ones were budded. This produces a luxurious growth of large trees whose foliage is a dense dark green and the fruit of fine color and quality. The King grove now stands at the head of the list,* both for acreage and quality. The amount of labor that it has taken to subdue this wilderness must have been immense and it still goes on? ditching and clearing and pruning? 640 acres in oranges does not satisfy Mr. King, and he has 240 more com? ing on. It is just such plants that show the value of the negro. His muscle, endurance, good health and contentment while doing such work is admirable. I remember hearing an old blunt-spoken member of the Leg? islature say, "Mr. Speaker, these rail? roads may fool some people, but they can't fool me. One of 'em goes right by my house and never stops to say howdy or good morning. I watched 'em when they was buildin' it and I know who done it. The company sold common stock and preferred stock, and issued first mortgage bonds and income bonds and they got the cost up to $50,000 a mile, but most of that was gxeasage and stealing. The real cost of the road was the sweat of the nigger at a dollar a day.'* There is much truth in that. The sweat of the nigger is the cost of most all the railroads, and down here now is the cost of all the phosphate plants. But outside of the large towns in Florida the negro is rarely seen. 1 saw but few in Wildwood, and there are not twenty-five in Clearwater. There are hardly enough to do the cooking and washing. Most of the families serve themselves. They do their own cooking and, therefore, not much cooking is done. You are not invited out to dine. The people .do, not attach so much importance to their appetites as they do to other pleas? ures, cor are they bound up by the rules of society as they are in oities and old settled towns. If they wish to go anywhere they walk or else ride in the little farm wagon. There are some buggies but no carriages?no darkey sitting up with a beaver on his head and a robe over his knees. ? A man can sit in his piazza with his coat off and a woman can wear an old straw bonnet if she wants to and no remarks. Mothers take their children to church, baby and all, and why shouldn't they. When would they hear preaching if she didn't. I heard a man say not long ago that it always made him mad to see a woman in church, with a baby in her arms. 'Well, of course, the child does sometimes disturb the con? gregation, "but not long for the mother takes it out, but that woman has per? haps been tied to her house day and night for weeks sewing and cooking and nursing while her husband can go about and talk and chat with the neighbors. No doubt he is a very clever, industrious man and means to be kind, but the wife who is a mother of young children is bound hand and foot to the hearthstone. Then let them go to church, and if the baby cries let us be sorry, but not mad. How old father time does slip up on us. Verily the years are all coming this way. I found at Wildwood An? drew Harvey, the son of my old friend. Judge Harvey^ of Rome. When I last sew him he was but a boy going to school with my boys, and now he is the father of a family, a "pater fa milias." He is a settled man and his wife is a settled woman. Of course, she is settled, for five little children will nettle any woman, but mother? hood is her natural condition, and the women who dodge it have lowered the standard of the sex. Andrew Harvey is a leading citizen of the town and the Superintendent of the Sunday school. His home is just what a home should be and his wife is a helpmeet as well as a helpmate. I was their guest, and never felt more at home than when under their roof, and espe? cially at their table. Good gracious ! What a Florida dinner was spread be? fore us and what a turkey and what cornbread and buttermilk. What cream was that on the grape fruit. There was a revival meeting going on in the Baptist Church and I heard good preaching in the daytime, and the preachers all suspended service at night and honored me with their pres? ence, and brought the congregation to hear me talk. That was kind and un? expected, for sometimes I have had preachers to warn their flocks against grieving the spirit by hearing Bill Arp talk. My thanks to Rev. Mr. Porter and Mr. Farmer and to the good people of Wildwood. We left Clearwater last Wednesday. The place and the people have our benedictions for our sojourn there has been most delightful, and we will have much to talk about for weeks to come. There were no operas or thea? ters or horse races or conventions or elections, but the sweet quiet of the town and the placid waters of the bay were enough to make us feel ealm and serene by day and by night. Good health, good sleep, good appetite and good fare ought to make anybody hap? py. We are all bronzed and tanned, and my wife says that when I take off my hat I look like I had on a dough face. She said also in a whisper that when she was at home she didn't have anything but a nose, for it was always in a commotion, but for a month past she had almost forgotten that she had a nose. The little grandchild has learned to swim and is so proud of it that she wanted to bathe twice a day. Clearwater will miss us, too, I reckon, for altogether we kept things lively and disturbed the fishes and the water a good deal. The venerable Dr. Wil? liam Brown, D. D.. died near there the day before we left. He was in his eighty-fifth year and dropped gently to sleep. All Presbyterians know him as the editor of the Central Presbyte? rian, of Richmond, Va., for a long number of years; a power in the courts of the Church and one of the truest and best of men. He preserved his mental faculties to the last and left his blessing on all mankind. 1 "How blest the righteous when he ! dies; when sinks the weary soul to rest." Bill Arp. THE HAPPY MA?', The Story of a Man Who Labors and It Satisfied. For half a century I have labored constantly, industriously and consci? entiously. Think of this I Fifty long years spent in unremitting labor, with little or no rest. With little or no recreation,?in the generally under? stood meaning of the word recreation. I am now sixty-one years of age and the roof of the house which protects me from the rays of the sun and the beat of the rain drops and the chills of the winter's blasts is not mine, but the property of another man. I com? menced life on the lowest round and though I have struggled hard with all the strength of a naturally strong body my efforts have not raised me higher than the mediocre.. And all this I know. My station in life will be no higher even until the grave shall claim me as its own. And with the knowl? edge of my ever lowly position in the affairs of man lam happy and forsooth must be contented. I have not been lacking in ambi? tion, for I have ever longed for a more elevated, a more lucrative and less ar? duous occupation. But these desires have not been hinderances in the faithful performance of every duty which has been placed upon me. I do not mean to say that I have not made mistakes in my business : that errors have not been laid at my door. I have made many, and I challenge \ the man without a fault to condemn I me. But the mistakes in my life have not been those of a vitally seri? ous kind and have not kept me from advancement. They have been those which are made by men in similar positions the world over. In fact, they have had nothing to do with my inability to become somebody and to possess myself of some of the good things of fchis life. But let me give an outline of my life and tell you why I am not discontented nor dishearten? ed. My parents were lowly folk, my father being a day laborer and my mother doing the work about home. There were six of us, five girls and myself. As is the common lot of children in this stage of life, consid? erable portion of the care and atten? tion of the younger children devolved upon my shoulders. From seven years of age until eleven I had the oppor? tunity of attending school. At this period my father died, leaving my mother destitute of means and little able to provide for a family, the youngest of whom was three and the oldest eleven, and thus I was forced out on the world to struggle in the battle for bread. Those were two weak little hands that were held up to defend that family of five sisters and mother, but what they lacked in strength they possessed in purpose. I fortunately was of a healthy and strong constitution and for my years was well advanced. Ambition had entered into my mind from the first days -of my schoolhood and I accepted the opportunities that were offered me. So that, when I entered; into business I was fairly well acquainted with the rudimentary branches of education. I found employment in a large establishment in which there were some sixty or seventy persons employed in the different departments. Of course, my beginning was from the bottom and I started out with heavy responsibilities thoroughly conscious of their weight and magnitude. Though I say it myself, I bore up bravely under them. When the clock struck the hour calling us to work I waB always there. Pays rolled into weeks and weeks into months and months in no years and I labored as I had started out, steadily, conscienti? ously and dutifully. My wages were small from the beginning but gradu? ally grew in proportion as my useful? ness developed at my place of em? ployment. The cares and require? ments of my sisters grew a little more than proportionately with my capacity for earning, and thus each promotion which I received developed some new want of my loving sisters. They were devotedly attached to me and made our little home a bower of happiness. The weeks when I anticipated having a few dollars to lay aside I found that Agnes needed a new bonnet, or Ethel a pair of shoes or Marie a new waist, Lilly , Emma and Hattie some other necessary article which I could not refuse, when, with blushing cheeks and diffident pleadings they asked me for them. And so my life went on. days, months and years passed. I had reached the age of 25 and had not saved a dollar. I managed to keep clear of debt but with my head barely above water. A sad affliction then fell upon us. Mother died. Those gentle hands no longer did the duty which they had long performed and the guiding spirit of our mutual lives passed gently away. How well I remember the day that we laid her to rest. How still the house seemed. Row sad the ap? pearance of everything in it. The little bird which belonged to my youngest sister sang not on that day. Our grief was not spoken, our hearts were crushed. A deep silence per? vaded everything. The old door to ray room which always seemed to break into a cry of joy as I opened it made no noise that day. The soul of our household had vanished. Our friends and her friends gathered to witness the last sad rites. How calmly she lay in that little room. What a contrast- between our throb? bing, lacerated and wounded hearts and that placid sweet smile which seemed to overspread her dead coun? tenance. I did not realize then that she was dead nor do I yet. There was no sadness in that face, and why should there have been. Had she not performed every maternal duty, every motherly care. No other hand but hers could perform those little acts which we felt but which we did not see, which we knew were done, but never saw doing. Life to her was not a burden ; her duties were performed as if by instinct. The hour came for the minister to arrive, and standing at the head of the casket he read the burial service. He spoke kind words of consolation, but we heard them not. Our bodies, our minds, our thoughts, our souls lay there in that still heart and hearkened not to the words of the minister. I could feel my heart throbbiogs and a tumultuous storm raged within my bosom while the exterior scene was so calm and still, and nothing but the sound of the words, Mother is dead?Mother is dead?rang in my ears. The little old clock in the dining room ticked out with painful regularity. Mother is dead?Mother is dead. Even to this day I can nee that tall sad-faced man who stood back of the minister with his hands behind him, Lilly conceal? ing the cover to the coffin which would forever hide from mortal view that dear face. Oh I how distinctly all of these I things come back ; how the words of j the minister's voice saying "dust to I dust, ashes to ashes," and the drop j ping of those clods of dirt from the sexton's hands upon the lid of that coffin, and then the grating of the trowel through the mortar and the laying of the brick; the throwing in of the earth ; the patting down and leveling oh! of that grave, and cutting away, and trimming and patting again and leveling again, by those grave diggers. How unconcerned they seemed. My anger rose up against them for their apparent oallousness of soul. I hated them in my heart. All of these things and thousands of the other incidents of that day remain with me still. I resumed my labors and life took on another aspect. In a few years two of my sisters married, and thus lightened of my burdens, I felt almost too free. Two sisters gone and moth? er with us no more, left a vacancy in my heart which I felt of necessity must be filled. Always of a gentle and loving disposition it was not long before I met one whom I thought would fully reciprocate all of my ten? der affections. She was of my own station in life and was refined but poor. My life again resumed some? thing of that care which seemed to be a necessity to my happiness. Chil? dren came to bless our union and life was spent in constant employment at my work and watchfulness and care of my wife and little ones. At last I reached a position of great trust and unremitting labor. I am almost afraid that I performed these duties too well. The place is one which requires sobriety and steadfastness. It is full of labor of an onerous kind. The post can not be left, the sentinel must never sleep at his duty. The cares which attach to it are many. Years of training must be gone through with to accomplish its requirements. There are other positions which pay better and are more easily performed, but it seems that this one place can never be filled by any one else. My predeces? sor grew old as I am doing in its duty. It seems to be a case of where a car? riage horse is put in a tread mill be? cause of his strength. ' My ability has been recognized by the employers, but they always declare that, though they wish to lighten my labors, they can find no one else to fill my place. The profits will not allow of a larger salary than that which I am getting, which is only enough to pay my living expenses and to keep up my insurance upon my life. So here I am ; myrow is plowed and up and down that row I must go again and again. That seems sad for a man Who has ambition burning in his breast which flame has ever beckoned him on to greater exertions and higher purposes. Hope of further advance? ment is a positive impossibility. I have used every argument for the furtherance of my cause, but to no purpose; always meeting with the answer stated. "An old dog learns no new tricks." I am too old to enter another line of occupation an<T must perforce remain where I am. I have struggled from early childhood and now I am consci? ous that old age must soon overtake me. ! I often thought, or imagined, what I would do if I were rich. How free I would make myself from all care. How happy I would be if my time should be entirely my own; and with this longing for a greater freedom I once went home and taking the bird cage from its nail, liberated the bird. Out it flew aod soared to the topmost limb of the tree and sang and whistled its little joyous song of happiness. Then in my heart I said, I have done a good act, and turning sadly away from the window pulled down the sash, longing that some strong hand might liberate me as I had liberated the bird. And that following night was a long and sleepless one, filled with waking dreams and longing hopes for the liberty which the bird had gained. Morning came and wearily I made ready to resume my work. I found my way down the steps to the window through which our pet song? ster had flown. I threw the sash up and looked furtively to the bough upon which I had last seen that over joyous creature. The sun was kissing the fresh leaves of the trees as the gentle breeze swayed them back and forth. And in their verdure they danced to the merry whistling of the wind. The bird was not there ; his song was not heard. My sight wan? dered o'er the ground and across our little garden. Tlhe daisies and pansies bowed their heads with a merry good morning and all the flowers seemed happy with the kissing of the dew. Alas I thought, the little bird has found a happier home among the wild flowers of the fields and his fel? low companions of the air. He is free but I am still a slave; and thinking thus I raised my hand to lower the sash. Surprised, almost startled I might say, I was to find that on the frame of the window my bird lay cold and stiff in death. Evidently freedom was not what was best for the pet warbler. It must have sung its little songs of joyous ness until its throat burned and throb? bed with the extra exertion and wish? ing for a few drops of water to satisfy this thirst, it knew not which way to turn except back to its own little home, the cage, where every want of life had been satisfied. It made its effort to return, but too late, the sash was closed, and in its weakness of intellect it beat its little brains out in its vain endeavor against the glass. Freedom was not what was best for it. Freedom meant death. Perhaps, yes, more than likely, freedom would mean death to me. From that day on I have never grown disheartened. In my cage I shall sing my song. I feel that there is a Hand, unseen, which guides all men through the pathway of life and leads them safely to their destination. I shall leave well enough alone and be happy in my sphere. Some men are born to wealth, but wealth docs not mean happiness. I see many men of affluence whose heads are bowed vith weightier cares than mine and whose faces are marked with deep furrows of anxiety and trouble?scars of the bat? tle of life. Upon the faces of other men whose time has been their own there arc blotches and blemishes of wanton dissipation. But none of theee are mine and I rejoice at their absence. I have a happiness around my fireside in the love of my maiden sisters, my children and my wife, which no wealth could increase, but might intoxicate, estrange or take away. I am what I am and though I toil it is a labor of love. The bird taught me a lessen. Can you not learn as much. J. "H. MoDonnald. ? Josh Billings says "It is a sta? tistical fact that the wicked work har? der tew reach hell than the righteous do tew get to heaven." Yast and Grand Section. Few of our readers have any ade? quate understanding of the greatness, the extent, the possibilities of what is described as the Northwest. This term embraces a large section of both the United States and Canada. We will give some statistics that will open wide the eves even of the intelligent reader. The States included in the Northwest are Minnesota, Iowa. North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, Washing? ton and Oregon. These States con? tain 859,325 square miles. This would make sixteen States the size of North Carolina. Montana would make three such States, There is one county in Minnesota. St. Louis, that is very nearly as large as both Connecticut and Rhode Island. Minnesota has 82,365 square miles. It would make more than ten States the size of Mas? sachusetts, or three times the size of New York. In Wyoming, which has 97,890 square miles, there are four counties either of which exceeds in size Vermont or Massachusetts or New Jersey. In Montana there are three counties either of which is larger than those three States combined. Leaving out Maine, all of the other States east of the Mississippi river do not contain as many square miles as the ten Northwestern States com? bined. Minnesota has rivers flowing south? ward, eastward and northward. Wy? oming has rivers running in four di? rections. The Provinces of Canada, all told, contain a larger area than all the United States omitting Alaska. Our square miles are 3,025,600; the Cana? dian Northwest alone has 3,470,392. That is a surprise we know. The Northwest of Canada contains 1,245, 305 square miles. Greater, you see, by nearly 50 per cent, than our own Northwest. Canada has more than one-half of the fresh water of the en? tire globe. Think of that. A recent writer says: "It is possible to go by water from the mouth of the St. Lawrence through the great lakes and down the Mack? enzie to the Arctic Ooean, a trip of more than 6.000 miles, in which less than 159 miles will necessarily be on land. The great lakes of the Canadian Northwest are second in size only to the largest of the great lakes on the international boundary. Great Bear lake is 150 miles in length; Athabas ka lake, 230, while the Great Slave lake is more than 300 miles long and has an average width of 50. The Mackenzie river is described by Arch? bishop Clutt as a deeper, wider and grander river than the St. Lawrence, and it furnishes with its tributaries more than 2,500 miles of navigable Waters." The most marvelous thing to us in this great section of the Northwest? so cold and so barren and so far North as most people think?are the fertility of the soil and the climatic conditions. The climate does not grow cooler real? ly as you go farther north. Mr. Thompson, who has made a special study of the vast region, says that "from Iowa north to the Peace River valley, and even on the shores of the Great Slave lake, a range of nearly twenty degrees of latitude, climatic conditions are essentially the same. It is a region marked by great heat in the summer and intense cold in win? ter." Both altitude and latitude affect climate. Both are very important. In the tropics you will see mountains covered with snow. The altitude of the far north is less than in States south of it. The basin in Colorado is higher than where the Great Northern railway crosses the main divide of the Bockics, near the boundaries of Cana? da and the United States. But Mr. Thompson shows the climate is not dependent alone in the Northwest upon latitude and altitude. He shows that the great ocean currents and winds of the Pacific have very great effect upon the climate just as the gulf stream in the Atlantic affects our own coast and the climate of Norway and the British Islands. He says, for instance: "A large portion of the Pacific coast of North America has, instead of win? ter and summer, a rainy season and a dry season, after the fashion of tropi? cal lands. Even as far north as Sitka it is said that ice sufficiently strong to sustain the weight of a twelve year old boy occurs but once or twice in a generation. The ameliorating influ? ence of this great warm river of the sea, While exerting its greatest effect upon the coast extends also into the interior. The mountain barriers are not only far less lofty in the north, but are less in width'. He is highly interesting and in? structive just here, but we may not follow him further. Vegetation grows with marvelous rapidity in this great section. He says that at "Fort Simpson, at the junction of the Liard and Mackenzie rivers, Archbishop Clutt speaks of the trees passing in a single week from bud to perfect leaf, and grasses, grains and vegetables of all kinds mature throughout the Northwest in a muoh shorter time than in the regions further south. As an instance it may be pointed out that Indian corn is harvested from three to five weeks earlier in Minnesota than it is in the Ohio valley." The wheat of Minnesota, North Da? kota and Manitoba produce invariably three grains in each fascicle or clus? ter, whereas not more than two are found in the States to the south of these. Still farther to the north on the Peace river throughout a large area five grains are invariably found well formed in each cluster. In Si? beria?cold, frozen Siberia?the dread? ful home of the Czar's banished and persecuted, civilized man has carried with him and cultivated successfully apples, pears, cherries and plums and six or seven degrees farther north than Winnipeg. A glance at the resources of this vast territory would require volumes. In addition to vast wheat production and vegetables, there arc cattle, im? mense forest resources, sheep raising, gold washing, fisheries and furs, min? eral resources, etc. The climate is exceedingly healthful and brick ma? sons lay brick with the cold twenty degrees below zero. It is a wonder? ful land and when peopled by the hundreds of millions of toilers in the years to come it will be a land of pros? perity and wealth.? Wilmington Mes? senger. Rudy's Pile Suppository is guar? anteed to cure Piles and Constipation, or money refunded. 50 cents per box. Send stamp for circular and Free Sam? ple to Martin Rudy, Lancaster, Pa. For Sale by Wilhitc & Wilhite, drug? gists Anderson, S. C. ? y^rupp claims to have invented a machinv that will roll iron-so thin chat it takes 1.800 sheets to make an inch. Some Well Paid Workers. New York has a population of work? ing women reaching in round figures to about 300,000. Many of these women find it hard enough to keep body and soul togeth? er. But there are many women in New York who work for a living and are not complaining of the hard times. A saleswoman whose lot is associated with poor wages, long hours, constant standing and frequently fatigued to say nothing of the fines and injustice of floorwalkers and heads of stock has con? stant opportunities for advancing into the ranks of the well paid and the pros? perous. One of the plums within the reach of the ambitious saleswoman who has tact, energy and taste, and has pos? sessed herself of the available knowl? edge of the variety, quality, sala-1 bleness and value of the goods in her special line, is that of becoming a "buyer." . I For instance, there is a young woman employed in a dry goods house in Twenty-third street whose salary is j $65 per week and expenses the year J round. She is a foreign buyer. Twice I a year she goes to Europe, stops only at first-class hotels, and spends her time in the dainty selection of beau-1 tiful laces and tapestries and embroi-1 deries, buying thousands of dollars' j worth of the loveliest stuffs for the house. I Every large dry goods establishment J has a number of women employed as "heads of stock" and assistant buyers. They are responsible for the depart? ment over which they preside. They can employ suoh clerks as they need, and discharge them as their judgment dictates. Their buying is purely lo? cal. Their pay averages about $25 a week Within the past year or two several saleswomen have been promoted to the post of floor-walker, a position hitherto occupied only by men. Their! pay is from $16 to $20 a week, accord? ing to the house in which they are em ployed. j The labor market is never glut ted with expert designers of gowns and bonnets. There are several firms on Sixth Avenue and Broaadway, which pay $50 a week to the special designers in their dressmaking depart- I ment. I A 6th avenue modiste employs a young woman as manager of the work rooms and pays her $65 a week. The position is an arduous one, as she is responsible for the design and fit and finish of every garment that leaves the establishment; but then most of the women would expect to do considerable hard work for that salary. There is a small army of ladies' maids in New York city who receive $35 a month.. Considering the sort of I Soaid and lodging that is thrown in, this sum is really equivalent to $60 a month. I These working women are required to be persons of taste and agreeable man? ners, and to know all about hair dress? ing, shopping, trimming up an eve? ning bodice and mending everything from stockings and gloves to fine laces, also to be able to pronounce infallibly upon the completeness and tout ensemble of a dinner or a dancing toi? let. There are three or four women fore? men in printing offices in New York who get from $18 to $25 a week. A few women compositors make similar wages. Good proof readers on the daily papers are paid $21 a week. There are six women factory inspectors in New York whose pay averages $23.40 a week. Three women are in the em? ploy of the custom house at this port as inspectors. They receive $21 a week. j A good operator on custom tailor's work can easily get employment at from | $9 to $14 a week for eight or nine hours' work daily. There are 2,000 or 3,000 trained nur? ses in New York whose services are continually in demand at from $26 to $35 a week with boardand lodg? ing. Miss Louise Darche, superintendent of the New York City Training School for Nurses, on Blackwell's Island, receives $1,000 a year, besides her board and the use of a very cozy, home-like apartment in the nurses home in the gray-stone building at the lower end of the Island. Some fac? tory pay rolls have names on them op? posite which are written $12 and $15 a week. Feather workers say they don't earn as good wages as they did five or six years ago, but there are somo of them who manage to get up to the $12 or $15 mark. There is a story current about a little woman who entered the publishing office of a fashion journal several years ago as assistant correspondent, and who is now head bookkeeper with a salary of $30 a week. "These are not average women, of course, but that's just the reason why they have found the paying places," says an old worker. "They made up their minds not to be satfiised with doing things in the average way, but to do their level best, whether they were well paid or not, and invariably the good pay came, too. How's This! We offer One Hundred Dollars Re? ward for any case of Catarrh that can not be cured by Hall's Catarrh Cure. F. J. CHENEY & CO., Props., Toledo, O. We the undersigned have known F. J. Cheney for the last 15 years, and believe him perfectly honorable in all business transactions and financially able to carry out any obligation made by their firm. West & Tbuak, Wholesale Drug? gists, Toledo, O. Walking Kinnan & Marvin, Wholesale Druggists, Toledo. O. Hall s Catarrh Cure is taken inter? nally, acting directly upon the blood and mucous surfaces of the system. Price 75c. per bottle. Sold by all Druggists. Testimonials free. ? Plodding Pete: Here it tells about a accident wot happened in a brewery. Shorty : Wot wux it ? Plod? ding Pete: A man fell in a bear vat an' got drowned. Shorty: Dat wuz a hard way ter die. Plodding Pete: Hard ! If drownin' in water is sech a easy death, Shorty, t'ink wot a dead pic nie it must be ter drownd in beer. ? The story is told that two little daughters of an old suburban family had attended Church Sunday school on Easter, and in the afternoon the elder, was caticising Her five-year-old sister, whose face was the picture of woe, un? der the ordeal. "What did Cain say when the Lord asked him where was his brother?" asked the interrogator. The little one's face brightened as she answered, "I am not my brother's bookkeeper. Toe Secret or Happiness. Few people realize how much of their happiness, such as it is, is de? pendent upon their work, upon the fact that they are kept busy and not left to feed upon themselves. Happi? ness comes most to people who seek her least, and think least about her. It is not an object to be sought; it is a state to be induced. It must follow and not lead. It must overtake you, and not you overtake it. How im ortant is health to happiness, yet the est promoter of health is something to do. Blessed is the man who has some congenial work, some occupation in which he can put his heart, and which affords a complete outlet to all the forces there are in him. A man does not want much time to think about himself. Too much thought of the past and its shadows overwhelms; too much thought of the present dissipates; too much thought { of the future unsettles. I find that if a horse stands too much in the stable, with too little work, he gets the crib bite. Too little work makes a kind of I a wind sucker of a man. j I recently had a letter from a friend I who, from having rented his farm for a number of years, had too much leis-1 ure. In this letter he writes how well and happy he has been during the season?he had enjoyed existence? I the gods had smiled upon .him and he had found life worth living. Then he told me, not by way of explanation, bat as a matter of news, that his head man had been disabled two months before and the care of the farm had} devolved upon himself; more, that he was renovating a place he had recently bought, re-modeling the house, shap-1 ing the grounds, etc. Then I knew why he had been so unusually well and happy. He had something to do into which he could throw himself, and it had set all the currents of his being going again. About the same time I had a letter from another farmer friend who told me how busy he was, so many things I pressing that there' was need of his I going two or more directions at once, not to get rich, but to make both ends meet. And yet he was so happy! (Theref ore he waa so happy,' say I.) Troubles and trials, he says, are few and soon over with, while the pleas ures are past all enumeration. "There I is so much to be enjoyed one never gets to the end of it." ' This man was too busy to be unhap-1 py, he had no time for ennui or the blues. You see he did not over-in? dulge in the luxury of leisure. He was compelled' to take it sparingly, hence it always tasted good to him. The fruit of the tree of life which we must eat very sparingly is leisure. Ton much of it, and it turns to gall on our tongue. A little too much of those things which we think will make us happy, and we are cloyed, and mis? erable, indeed. The boy would like to dine entirely upon pie or sweetmeats, and we all need the lesson that the dessert of life is to be taken sparing? ly. Because money is good, do not therefore, think that riches are an I unmixed blessing; because leisure is sweet to you do not therefore, imag-1 ine you would be happy with nothing to do, My correspondent was too busy and too poor to be cloyed or fated, too much the victim of circum? stances to be self-accused and re pin-1 ing. He had no choioe but to go on and make the most of things. I overheard an old man and a young man talking at the station. The oung man Was telling of an uncle of is who had sold his farm and retired into the village. He had enjoyed go? ing to the village, and so now he thought he would take his fill of it. But it soon cloyed upon him. He I had nothing to do. Every night he would say with a sigh of relief. I "Well, another day is through," ana each morning wondered how he could endure the day. In every village up and down the aider parts of the country there are several such men : every day is a bur? den to them because they have noth? ing to do. They drift aimlessly up and down the street, they loiter in the postoffice or lounge in the grocery store, or hotel bar-room?no comfort to themselves and no use to the world. With what longing they must look upon the farmers that drive in to get a I horse shod or to do a little trading and then drive briskly away! How the vision of the farm, the cattle, the sheep, the barn, the growing crops, the early morning, the sowing, the planting, the harvesting, etc., must haunt them. Nothing to do ! When they were driven and oppressed with work they had thought, what pleasure to be free from all this, to be at lib? erty to go and come as one liked, with no cows to milk or chores to do ! Now they probably have not a hen or a dog to comfort them. These men do not live out more than half their latter days. Nature has no use for them and they soon drop away; whereas their neighbors who stick to the farm and keep the currents going, reach a much more advanced period of life.? John Burroughs, in the Chautauquan. Backlens Arnica Salve. The best salve in the world for Cuts Bruises, Sores. Ulcers, Salt Rheum, Fever Sores, Tetter, Chapped Hands, Chilblains, Corns, and all Skin Erup tions and positively cures Piles, or no pay. required. It is guaranteed to give perfect satisfaction, or money refund? ed. Prise 25 cents per box. For sale by Hill Bros. Hall's Catarrh Cure for sale by Wilhite & Wilhite. ? The law of I Georgia forbids the firing of a gun or pistol within fifty yards of a public road.. ? As soon as a small boy joins a baseball nine he imagines that his arm is the pestle of death and the axletree of the world, and no long? er looks upon his father as a model giant. ? Pcgg?Sometimes the absolute faith my boy has in my wisdom makes me almost ashamed of myself. Potts ?You need not worry. It will aver? age up all right. By the time he is 20, he will think you know nothing at all. ? "Well, Charles," said the proud father, "you are to be graduated in June. What are your ideas as to se? lecting your profession ?" "I think I'll be a lawyer, father; I am fond of ease." "Ease ? Do you consider the lawyer's profossion one of ease?" "It certainly is at the start; young lawyers never have much to do ?" ? it is estimated that between $40,000, 000 and 160,000,000 are expended in this country annually for church edifices. ? Maryland and Virginia are consider? ing the advisability of falling Into line with Delaware in the restoration of the whipping post and pillory for petty offenders against the law. All Sort! of Paragraphs. ? It is quite as bard to act a He as . to tell the truth. ? Think high thoughts and you won't do low deeds. ? Christopher Grove, a 93-year-old resident olJ Bethany, Ind., is cutting a new set of teeth. ? The Mohawk Indians will not i allow so much as a blade of grass to ' grow upon the graves of their compan? ions. ? The gems in the diadem of the . Russian Empress are worth ?80,000. They comprise 2,536 diamonds and a massive ruby. ? To refuse to speak to your next door neighbor, and emit prayers for the heathen, is a sort of consistency that don't jingle. ? It has been figured out that a man > who shaves regularly until he is 80 years old, has cut off about 35 feet of hair from his face. m ? In the old days pigs were con? sidered a great delicacy in Rome, and those for the magnates were fattened on honey, figs and whey. ? Jill son says he has noticed that - some men are a great deal like rivers. r'. When their heads are swelled you realize it from their mouths. ? A firm in Palestine is engaged in supplying water from the River Jor? dan to churches. It is put up in sealed bottles and sold by the case. ? A horse 36 years of age, with a i remarkable fondness for whiskey, died -' recently at Reading, .Pa. The animal frequently drank a pint of liquor in a pail of water. ? Office boy?"Here's a note from 3 a purty young lady." Editor (absent "-? mindedly)?"Can't help it I Three in. . the bank now. and not a darned cent V to meet'em! ? The 20,000,000 men of the United v? States are-wearing an average of 20 buttons each, making 400,000,000 bu? tons for all, estimated to weigh 23,- %l 000,000 pounds. ? Bingo?"How did my wife look -, ': at the reception yesterday ?" Wither-"^; ly?"Elegantly. Why weren't you there?" Bingo?"Didn't have decent clothes to wear." * > ? The longest train ever hauled by; > a single engine in America was on the Reading Line. It contained 250 ? empty 'cars, and was a mile and a t quarter in length. ! ? It is possible, by a recent inven-; ^ tion, to take five different photographic^ views of a person at one sitting. ThejH apparently different attitudes are pro? duced by the aid of mirrors. ? The only half-cent, probably, which was ever coined was apiece now- ^ in possession of Jesse Rogers of New^m berry, Mass. It is an old Massachu- y setts coin; presumably cast as an ex^M periment. ? The most common error of men \ and women is to look for happiness. % outside of useful work. It has never been found when thus sought, and never will be while the earth revolves V and the sun shines. - ?*::' ? The estimated number of horses ;? in this country on January 1, 1893..'r> was more thon 16,000,000, and valued >s at $900,000,000. January 1, 1894i ^ there were more horses, the value had decreased to the amount of $223,000, 000. The horse business got hit hard. ? Jesse Seligmao, of New York, ^ who died the other day. 'came to the A United States in a sailing vessel in 1840 from Bgordorf, Bavaria. His first effort upon landing was to find "a : food boarding house for $1 per week." ' [is fortune when he died was esti? mated at $30,000,000. ? Senator McLaurin was trying a case before the Circuit Court in Rah kin Co., Miss., just before his election to the Senate, about a month ago. There was a negro and a dog involved. "What is the dog good for, uncle V*:?% asked Mr. McLaurin. "Will he catch coons?" "Neverhearn'erhiscatchin'. ' nuthin," replied the darkey. "Ain't ? no 'count at all. *He jes lays aroun'--;:? de house, he does, an' eats an' sleepsJH Ain't wuf shucks. Dat's what makes ' us call 'im what we do.' "What do : \ you call him ?" "Lawyer." ? The golden text for a certain . Sunday School was, "And the child frew up and waxed strong inspirit. ,uxe ii: 40." Little Ted's hand - went up like a flash when the superin- . dent asked: ' 'Can any of these bright, :? smiling little boys or girls repeat the ; golden text for to-day ? Ah 1 how glad ' it makes my heart to see so many - hands go up ! Teddy, my boy, you may ' repeat it, and speak good and loud , that all may hear." And they all - heard this: "And the child grew and waxed strong like 2.40." ? Careful weighing shows that an. ; ordinary bee, not loaded, weighs the ' one five-thousandth part of a pound, so that it takes 5,000 bees, not loaded, to make a pound. But the loaded bee, when he comes in fresh from the fields and flowers, loaded with honey . or bee bread, weighs nearly three : times more?that is to say, he carries nearly twice his own weight. Of . loaded bees there are only about .. 1,800 in the pound. An ordinary hive of bees contains from four to five pounds of bees, or between 20,000 and v? 25,000 individuals, but some swarms have donble this weight and number of bees. ? One hundred years ago Benjamin > Franklin left a fund of $5,000, which he directed should be put at interest . and left to accumulate for a century. At the expiration of that time he stipulated that half of the money thus accumulated should go to some good public purpose for the benefit of the - people of Boston. The other half was to be put ? aside, as in the first case, for another century, at the end of which time the State and city should be equal partners in the fund. Now, arising from that $5,000 there is - an aggregate of something near $700.- < 000, half of which the trustees will ? use to build and equip an industrial training school. ? Many people think that Jonathan. Bassctt, who died recently, was the first ossified man. He may have been the first on exhibition, but not the first on record. In the Museum of National History at Dublin is the skeleton of a native of South Ireland who was ossified during his lifetime,. living in that condition for years^, His affliction came on in a peculiar manner. One night after a carousal he slept out in a field. Soon there-. after his joints began to stiffen; He could not arise nor sit down unattend? ed. Neither could he bend his body, and when placed upright resembled stone. His teeth and jaws became joined into a solid bone. He lost his sight and the use of his tongue, and for years was kept alive by nourish- j ment artificially administered. Doc-4 tors could do nothing for him. and when he died they preserved the strange skeleton or mummy, which is now on exhibition.