Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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FRANK P. BEARD, Editor isd Proprietor. DEVOTED TO THE INTERESTS OF KERSH.1W COUNTY. TERMS :-?2.00 per asntm. in A:-vAv h. VOL.1. CAMDEN. S. C.. WEDNESDAY. MAY 27. 1874. Mi, :U. Contented. I eat with my dear maiden A linden's restful shade in; Wo fat there hand in baud. The wind breathed low and tender, The fun wuli softened ?rleudor Shone o'er the talent laud. Wc Hj ake uo word revealing Our deep contentment'* feeling, Scarce neemcd oar hearte to leat. Of what could we bo ^peaking ? What more were worth our eeelung ? Our knowledge w a* ccmplcte No further wantn perplexed us. No eager longing vexed ue ; r.ove'n all w a* with ua there. By loving even' mute gieetiug, Uy loving lips' ho ft meeting. Our raptures did ?? share. THE UNWILLING BRIDE. Very few persons who ever knew Ruth Mellwain could easily forget her. When I first met her, she was sixteen. The mother of Ruth M'llwain died while she was an infant, anil her father remained a widower for ten years, and then married a lady who had a daugh ter by her former husband. The sec ond Mrs. Mellwain was a woman of plausible manners, but of a selfish and artful disposition, aud her daughter Ellen resembled her exactly, Jonas Mellwain .was one of those every day persons who have nothing marked in their character, if wc except only a great portion of obstinacy. One day when Ruth had just entered her seventeenth year, a gentleman whom she had never seen before, came to tea with the family. He was a wid ower, about forty years of age, of good figure and fine manners, but plai? even to ugliness. He was silent and reserved. Ruth paid little attention tor him, and w >uld have thought no more about him had not her father said to her when he was gone, " Well, Ruth, what do you think of Mr. Walker?' " I think he is extremely ugly," re plied his daughter. " Humph !" responded her father, " that is unlucky, for he ia to bo your husband." " My husband, father ?" said Ruth, raising her bluo eyes and ga/.ing at her parent with a look of astonishment. " Oh ! you are jesting ; that is impos sible." 41 Not at all," answered Mr. Mell wain. "You will find it very truo. I assure you I am serious." '"I will never marry him," replied Ruth, ''and I scarcely think he will do- ( siro an unwilling bride." " But you will not bo an unwilling I bride," persisted her father. " Don't mistake me, father," contin ued Ruth firmly, but kindly. "In this matter I must oonsult my feelings. I cannot commit ro great a sin." "Well, we shall see," cooly responded Mr. Mollwain, and the conversation dropped. Caleb Walker was a man of immense wealth. In early life ho had emigrated to Louisiana, when the city of New Or leans was scarcely more than a village, and by judioiously investing the means he possessed, he amassed great wealth. No man had a kinder or more sympa thizing nature than Caleb Walker. Ho was very oharitable, but as he shrunk from observation, and was so unobtru sive, the knowledge of his benevolence was almost invariably confined to him self and the recipients of his bounty. Mr. Walker oontinued his visits to the Moliwains, and Ruth mado it a point to keep out of his way as much as possible. She had little difficulty in doing this, as he paid no particular at tention to her. Hhe peroeived, how ever, that her step mother and sister wero frequently closeted together, and that their minds seemed always occn piod with something that shooonld not discover. They sometimes looked at her in a pecnlinr manner. One d.*?y, when she was alone with Jj^len, she said . W " What is it that occupies yon and I mother so much?" I Her step sister answered with great p deliberation, "The preparation for your marriage, myflear." " My marriage, sister' With whom ?" " Yonr father eortainly h?s informed , you that you are to marry Mr. Walker," replied Ellen, looking fixedly into Ruth's fare. "Oh! yes, ho Raid so," replied Ruth, " but I cannot believe he means it. " "Why not?" apked Ellon, elevating or oyobrowa. "Because," replied Ruth^ "tt'a a very Rnmmary way of disponing of my nfTVotions, atul I think I am entitled to a nay in the mattor." Ellen laid her hand on Ruth's ahonl dor. " My dear," she said, " don't l?o willy. You certainly will marry Mr. Caleb Walkrr. Ho is a gentleman of immemo wraith, and will make you an excellent husband. Besides, he ia fond of yon, though you will not givo him a rhanco of making you sensible of the faot. There ia not a girl in the community hut what would dance at your ohanoo. I am sure F wonld." " Then t.ako him," ?aid Ituth. " Bnt I cMi', tako him," replied El len ; " he rlon't want me. Beaidea, my dear, everything ia aettlor! in your oaae ; eveu your wedding wardrobe ia pnr ohaaed." Ruth took her atep-aiator hy the hand. " la thia true?" alio aaked solemnly. " It ia true!" repliad the other. * Mr. Mellwnin, waa absent in the country. Ruth, therefore, went to hor atep-mother who liatened to her anppli rationa with a (.onntenanre aa 1m movable aa atone. " I am surprised at this nonsense," she cried. " I expected to find you a reasonable girl. Are you going mad? Do you really know what you are re fusing ? This is preposterous. There is scarcely a young lady in the country who would refuse Mr." Walker. What 1 are your objections to him, pray ?" " I don't lovo him," sobbed Ruth. "Well, who said you did ?" cried her stepmother. "But you ran do bo ; ; you will have plenty of time, and he is a kind man and will teach jou to do so." 'I will be committing a 6inif I marry him. I marry a man that I scarcely know and do not love," said Ruth. " You may alter your opinion," re plied Mrs. Mellwain. " It is t<? your father you must say that." "Will you not appeal to him for me ?" sobbed Ruth. " No," replied her step-mother stern- I ly, ns she went out of the room. Several days elapsed without Ruth seeiug either her lather or Mr. Walker, i when one bright morniug, as she was reclining upon her bed, her father en tered the chamber, and commanded her to prepare herself instantly to marry Caleb Walker. " All is prepared," ho said harshly ; " got up inbtantly and dress yourself. Let me hear no murmur." At that moment a couple of servants entered the apartment, bearing a Lum ber of boxei?, whilst Mr. Mellwain placed a magnificent necklaco of pearls upon the dressing-case. " There," said ho, " is a present from your future husband." Half stupefied, Ruth attempted to reraonsrate. "Don't speak," said her father; "marry Caleb Walker or leave mv house." Do turned on his heel as he spoke, and quitted his daughter's presence. Overwhelmed with grief and despair, the unhappy girl could not maintain the resolution sho expected to command in tho moment of her need, l'assively submitting to the fate that had over taken her. sho was docile under the hands of tho waiting maids, who began to array her for the bridal. During tho performance of. the cere mony sho appeared moro dead than alivo, and it was only when Walker saluted her as his bride, that she started as if fro:u a dream. Thev proceeded di rect from tho church to" tho houso of the bridegroom, where a splendid din ner awaited them. Ruth desired to be conducted to her chamber, and locking herself iu, left Caleb Walker to enter tain tho bridal party as best as he could. Iu vain did her step-mother and sister solicit admission. Sho refused to sufTer them to come into her presonce. Sudden indisposition served as a pre text for her leaving the company, and her husband hud presence of mind enough to put tho best face upon the matter, ^Wlien tho guests had departed, Caleb Walker ascended tho stairs with a slow step and thoughtful mein, and tapped at his wife's door. " Let mo in." ho said, in a low tone, " I have something to say to you that will not displeaso you." Ruth opened the door, but averted her ryes. Her husband divined what was passing through hor mind. Seating himself near her, ho spoko in the tone of a man whose soul is penetrated with sorrow. " Do not make yourself unhappy," he said. " Hear mo patiently. If I tell you that I repent having married you, you will not perhaps believe mo ; yet it is true. I was made to believe by your father and step-mother, that your affec tions wore disengaged, and that yon had no aversion to me?that you would dispense with those attentions custom ary from a lover to his betrothed, but which tho difference of our ages, and my consciousness that naturn had'dealt hardly with mo, rendered mo averso from offering. Too late I have discov ered tho crunl deception your father has ppictiocd upon me. Stili it in in my power to render your fste less wrsteheo than you anticipate. Hoar tho name of my wife, command in my houso, dis poso of mo and my fortune as yon please. Hoforo Heaven, I promise yon solemnly to livo with you only as a brother, until you can rocoivo meas the husband of your choice." Ho ejasoil sp.-aking, and sat gazing at her, awaiting her reply. The force of truth IS always irresistible. Ruth dried hor tears, and fxtondod hor hand to him. " I accept your offer," she said, " an I thank you for your gonorosit.y ; I will try and repay your kindnoB?. You have a daughter ; that child shall be my caro. lint from this hour I will woo my father's face no more. I forgive him the wrong he has done mo, hut I eari "?ver willingly behold his face. As to my step mother and her daughter, ns your wife, I forbid their progonoo for an instant under this roof." " Your wishes shall bo the law of my honse," retnrnod her husband ; " fear not, you shall be implicitly obeyed. Good-night," and without shaking hsnds with h^r, or ovon looking at, hor, Caleb Walker left his youngwife alone, and deacondod the stairs. The following day she met him with * cheerful conntonanoe ; and a few day* later his daughter, an interesting child about four years old, was brought home. Ruth was nat.nrally a vory sffoe tionate woman. Kstranged from hor nearest connections by the base docep tion they had practiced npon her, she needed an object nnon which to lavish her tenderness, and soon found it in little hflfin, who became pasHionateiy fond of hor. Time flow by, and Caleb Walker kopt his word striotly with his beautiful wife. He did more ; ho wan incessant in his endeavors to rander her happy. Two rears parsed away, with scarcely any change in his domestic relations, except perhaps that Ruth was more confidential with him, and at times evinced more 'endemess toward-. Mm than she had hitherto done. Efii^ was her darliDg, and she appeared to love the child with so strong and passionate an attachment, that Mr. Walker often marveled at it. One day, early in spring, Caleb Walker informed Ruth that he had taken a country house for the summer. This was welcome news tj Ruth, and she began to prepare for their removal. Three weeks later, they were comfort ably installed in their country resi dence. It was a moderately-sized farm huuse, having an abundance of shade trees and fruit surrounding it, and Ruth began to busy herself among the plants and flowers jib soon as the weath er permitted. The place was near enough to the city to allowCaleb Walk er to make daily visits thereto, if he had occasion to do so. It waa in the month of July, the we^fcber was intensely warm, when cue morning Caleb Walker set out for the city, to be absent all day. Late in the afternoon Ruth took Effio by the hand and wandered into the adjacent wood to seek for sonio roots bho desired. So intent was eho upon the object of her search, that she did n?t observe the heavens growing overcast until the storm wat nearly upon them. Then it was that she, catching the child by tho hand, hurried onward, hoping to reach the house before the rain fell. She waa yet a half mile distant when the storm burst upon them in all its fury, and tho raiu, descending in tor rents, drenched her and tho child to the skin. She had passed beyond all shelter, and could find no place nearer than her home where sho could gain a refuge. It therefore became a matter of sheer necessity to go forward. When fhe arrived at her house, as might have been expected, she was in a very exhausted condition ; but Effio did not seem to bo much tho worse of the accident, save her wet clothing. Tho first thing Mrs. Walker did was to at tend to tho child, and it was not until her 6tep-daughter kad her clothing changed, that Ruth pulled off" her drenched garments. The following morning Ruth was so ill that sho could not leave her bed, and her husband immediately summoned a physician. Two or three days more and Ruth lay prostrate in bed with typhoid fever. Days and nights Caleb Walker sat by the bedsido of his wife, who lay uncon scious, her mind wandering, and a raging fever racking her frame. Ho would not be satisfied with the attention of her nurses, but watched every move ment she made. For a long time it was doubtful whether she would recover. But at last tho disoaso took a favorable turn, and she gradually began to mend. But what a wreck Bhe presented, when contrasted with her former self ! Tier first inquiries were for Effie, and when tho child was brought to liar sho hugged her passionately to her emaciated form. * During the progress of her recovery, she was one day lying on a couch beside her husband, who had been reading to amuse her. Effio was seated near and pBattling a great deal. Mr. Walker laid down his book and gazed at Ids wife. Effie began to talk again. "Mamma," she said, "yon lovo mo ?ery muoh, don't yon ? " " Certainly," replied Ruth ; "why do you ask 1" ( " I don't know," answered tho child, except that it makes mo very happy to know that yon lovo me so dearly." Knt.h pressed the littlo one nearer to her heart. " You love me better than any ono in tho world ? " continued tho child. Ruth did not reply ; tho color faded and camo to her cheeks as sho looked inquiringly into tho child's face. Is it not so, mamma ? " continued EfTio. " Von lovo mo better than you do papa, don t you ?" and she took her stop-mother's hand and looked into her eyes. Caleb Walker sat by breathless and motionless. Ruth hesitated for a moment only, and then sho answered in a low but dis tinct tone? " No, Effio, I do not." Tho next instant Caleb was on his knees beside bin wife. " My own, my darling I " ho exclaim ed, "now I ft>?l that you are mine own indeed ;" and ho fervently kissed her pale brow." And so, in truth sho was. ITin cease less tenderness and unwearied atten tions hod won her heart, unknown oven to herself. From that time forward a new joy entered the hearts of Ruth and her husband. Haw Thpj Sin?. A party of Chicago min?trols wnrfl intltiooil I>v ft tailor from (Immdn to order ovorcoatH anil have them a?nt ovflr the lino without tho payment of dnty. Tho oporation wan Hnoooanful, hut tho secret wouldn't keep. Conse quently tho troupe wan brought before a United Ht.atea' OommlnRinniT and fined g.M)apiece. Now thoynightly sing : I>*r * man frorr the land ol> enow* An' Hold nn nil ?(.rno Canada ninth**. Mo cl>?ap, ho oli?ap, ho rlionn, mo cheap. FI? rloaod one r yo ?? ' ? i rlum. An' wlnnpHred, I,et?M fool I'nrln Kam," H ? n?at, no neat, no n<*at, ho neat. {'horns hy the company Hnt w? wiah w? iivln t fooled liim, We (In w#> do. Wn bought tho?n clothea and with onr wncH I.oriB Hince in vain wis'vrs atmgRled, For oate, an' pante, an' voatn l>on'atoe, wore smuggled. THEATRICAL TRAPS AND TRICKS. Olive I.okiii Kxplaln* How a " Stage My.. try " tv a it Performed. Those who saw the fairy spectacle called " Le Boi Carotte " at the Grand Opera House in New York, says Olive Logan, may remember an extraordinary scene, in which an old magician was seemingly dismembered in the presence of the audience. This feat was accom plished through the aid of an arrange- , ment of traps. The situation was this: An old and feeble sorcerer, after havkig rendered important services to some young friends of his, asked of them tbat they should cut him In several pieces, and throw him bit by bit into j an oven heated to a white heat ; after wtnch he expected to come out a young man, as fresh and light as yeast and magic ever yet made baking come out of oven. His will was done ; he was cut up and put in the oven without leaving the stage, and without ceasing to talk. Seated in a large arm chair, , tho old man asked that a lingo volume should be brought in and placed on a table near him. This was done, and the enormous book being laid on the 1 table, immediately became vivified ; living gnomes issued from the pictures ! on its leaves, and skipped about the ; 1 stage ; after which they re-entered the 1 book, and it was closed and carried I away. Then the magician's legs were cut ofT and thrown in the oven, ditto his arms ; then his head was cutoff and set on tho table, where it went on talk j ing, giving directions as to the disposal | of the trunk ; after which the head too ; was thrown into tho oven, which burst j open with a loud report, and tho actor walked on the stage, young and liand | some. It was an incomprehensible per i formuuee to tho ordinary spectator, and I a very amusing one to those who tried I to guess how it was done ; but it can be I explained. The huge volume was brought in and ! laid on tho table at tho same moment that the old magician in tho arm-chair quietly withdrew his legs from the ceno and placed them on a trap under the stage, papier-mache legs were sub stituted by a machinist from below, and the seat of the arm-chair retired in good order. All this transpired while the spectators' attention was diverted by the big book and its animated pictures, which wero little boys who simply came up from under the stage through a hole in tho table, and through spring-holes in tho book, arranged with India rabber. The magician then requests that his legs be t&ken off ; and having slipped his real arms out of sight, gives his papier-mache arms in their order to the devouring flames. Nothing is left but the magician's trunk and his head, which keeps on talking and looking around the I slage. This head is, in fact; a mask; , with a long white beard, spectacles, black skull-cap, and lace neck-fritfc?? ! which mask elactly fite the actor's head : of 'flesh, and permits nothing real to bo I ; aeen but the lips and the eyes. One of ; , tho persons on the Btage tugs at the j I magician's head till ho pulls it off?that j | is to say, he pulls the mask off?and ! ! carries it over to the table (while the : | magician, who has sunk through a trap, | runs along nnder the stage), places it ! : on tho table, where it immediately be gins to talk and give directions about : the trunk, which still remairfs in the | ohair. This trunk is papier-mache, ?of : | course. The magician, running- along 1 under the stage, was sent up through another trap under the table, and i I slipped his real head into the mask again, and began to talk as stated. Fi i nally, the head is thrown into the ovon, I i tho magician draws his head down J undor the table descends on the trap, | reascends on another further back, slips | on a rich jacket on the way, and when tho oven bursts, steps forth rejuvenated, i In the Sonth Sea Island*. A correspondent of the British rril Tinxr.H writes that a notion pre^nis tliero that headache, neuralgia, vertigo, ami other cerebral affection* prooeed from a crack in the head or pressure of the skull on the brain. The remedy ifl to lay open the scalp with a crosa or T incision, than scrape the cranium care fully and gently with a piece of glass until a hole is made into the skull down to the dura mater, abont the size of "a orown piece. Homotimes this scraping operation will be even to the pia mater by an unskillful surgeon, oY from the impatience of the friends, and death is( the consequence. Tn the best of hands, abont half of thoso who undergo the operation die from it, jet this barbarous oustom, from superstition and fashion, has been so prevalent, that very few of the male adults are without this hole in the cranium, or " have a shingle loose," to use an Auntralian phrase. It is sairl that sometimes an attempt, is made to cover the membranes of the cranium so exposed by placing a piece of oocoanut ahell nnder the scalp. For this purpose they select a very hard and durable piece of shell, from which they scrape the softer parts and jfrind qnite smoot n, and put this as a plate between the scalp and skull. Formerly the trephine was simply a shark's tooth ; now a pieco of broken glass is fonnd more suitable or less objectionable (if we may even so qualify the act). The part of the cra nium generally selected is that where the coronal ana sagittal aaturea anite, or a little shove it, npon the snpposi tion that there the fractare exists. This l>one scraping remedy is likewise em ployed in cases of rhenmatism in old people. The cnticle is incised longi tudinally, and the oentre of the nlna or tibia laid bare, then the snrface of the bone scraped with glass until a lar^n portion of the external lamina is re moved. A Brave Iceland Girl. Mr. S. E. Waller started for a trip in Iceland in Juno, 1S72. Ho pives an account of "Six Weeks in the Saddle," i in a little volume from which we pet an idea of the customs of the people there. ' The Icelanders are almost inconvenient- | ly hospitable. It is difficult to get a farmer, who keeps you for a day or two, j to accept pay. Our author seems to | have done his best to requite his hosts by making himself amusing. Here we i have an instance of native kindness and j feminine courage. In the morning I made a small study, I and after a very tolerable meal and many good wishes, we rode off. All , went well until wo came to the river Markafijot, which happened to be very much flooded. Not liking to attempt to swim under the circumstances, we j rode on down the bank for some miles, and fortunately found a house. Knocking at the door, we asked : "Is the river very deep ?" " Very," said a voice inside. " Is there a man who will show us a ford?" we asked again. " No," was the reply, " both Jon and 1 1 Olavr are up in the mountains, but one j of the girls will do quite as well. Hero, j Thora, go and show the Engiismen tlie way." Immediately an exceedingly hand some young woman ran out, and nod- ' ding kindly to me, went around to the j back of the house, caught a pony, put a bridle on it, and not taking the trouble ! to fetch a saddle, vaulted on his bare j back, and setting astride, drove her heels'into its sides and galloped off down the river bank as hard as she could go, shouting for us to follow. We became naturally rather excited at such a display of dash on the part of such a pretty girl, and started off im mediately in chase. But though wo did our utmost to catch her, she increased her distance baud over hand. There was no doubt about it ; she had as much courage as ever we could boast of, and in point of horsemanship was a hun dred yards ahead of either of us. Fur about half a mile we rattled along, when suddenly sho pulled up short on a sand bank. " You can cross here," sho said,"but j you muBt be careful. Make straight for that rock right over there, and when you have reached it, you will be able to see the cairn of stones we built to show the landing place." "All right," I suid. "Good bye." She looked puzzled for a moment, and then Baid : "I'll come through with you ; it will be safer." " Good gracious, Bjarni, don't let her come," I said ; she is sure to be drowifed, and I can't get her out with all those wet clothes on ; tell her to go back." But before I was half way through the sentence, she had urged her horse into the water, and in .a moment was twenty yards into the river. Of course we followed as quick as possible, and after a great deal of splashing reached the middle of the flood. " Now," she said, bringing her horse up abreast with mine, *and pointing with her whip, "there's the mark." The water waa running level with the horses' withers, and it was only by lifting their heads very high that they could keep their noBos clear. " flood bye," she Raid, "God bless you," ana before I wan quite aware off it, kissed me on ^ho cheek. I was about to return the compli ment, but she was gone, and in a few minutes after we saw her, a mere speck in the distance, galloping ovortho plain. Kissing in Iceland is a custom simi lar to shaking hands here. I had thought of it in ordinary situations, bat a kiss in the midst of boundless waters was, to Bay the least of it, strange. It whs ccrtainly the wettest one I ever had in my life. The Strength or Material*. (Johl may bo hammered so that it in onfy 1-:500,(K)0 of an inch tliiok. A grain of iron may ho divided into 4,()0<>,000 parts. Htill chemistry tells 1m that there aro ultimate parts called atoms of molecules, which are absolutely in divisible. These atoms are Attracted to each other by tho attraction of ooho sion, and repelled by tho forco of re pulsion. By the action of l>oth forces the atoms are kept in a state of rest. The solidity of a solid depends upon tho faot that each pair of atoms aro in ^Uis btate of equilibrium. These atoms are supposed to bo of an ohlato, sphe roidal form. An iron bar wonid sup port its owr^?< i?ht if stretched out to a length of .'!} miles. A bar of steel was once made which wonld sustain its own woi gljJj if e x ten (led to a length of 13j miles. Our ideas of great, and small nro no guide to bo used in judging of what is truly great and small in nature. Tho Bunluf Hill Monument might bo built to ovf^ii'milo in height without crush ing the stones at its base. When bars of iron aro strotchod until they break, I those which aro tho strongest, increase | in length less than tho weaker ones. A piece of wood having a breadth and thickness of three inches and a length of four foot,, if supported at- its ends, would be bent one-millionth f>t an inch by a weight of three pounds pi*oed nt its center, and a weight of iffe-tenth of an ounce won 14 bend it onfMteventb-mil lionth of an inch. Prof. Norton de scribed a machine for testing the varia tion of sticks of wood. Tho machine consists of lovers and screws so con trived that tho amount of wei ght brought to bear upon tho stick can be accurately measured, and tho variation of tl?e stick from a straight lino can bo measured, even though it do not exceed one soventh-million^,of an inch. i Items of Iutore>t. Why is a retired carpenter like a Ice turer ? Because ho an ex-plauer. A Now Haven paper offers to ox change six new poems on spring for a bottle of cough bjrup. When French sailors get word to man the pumps, it is said tney take *tepi preparatory to dancing. Placards on the St. Louis street ca declare that " this car can't wait for ladies to kiss good-bye." The Chinese have a saying that an unlucky word dropped from the tongue canuot be drawn baek"'y a roach and six liorees. Nothing is rarer than a solitary lie ; for lies breed like Surinam toad:: ; \ ,u cannot tell one but out it comes with a hundred young ones on its back. An instructor asked a French girl why beer in French was feminine. She replied that it was probably owing to the fact that the b?ys like it so well. A young man who was there says it was iiiexcuthable to abandon a tliip like the Europe when there were IS,000 bathkets of thampagno aboard of her. Set a greater value on having received instructive and useful lesson a than on possessing a great store of wealth ; fur the latter is a transitory good, the for mer is durable. Here is tho obituary notice of an oftiee holder in Iowa: "Harvey .lack son, County Treasurer, is dead. He was lenient with the widow, and his books always balanced." A poor woman with a siek baby sat through an entire day's session of tho Senate of a Western State, because s'10 had heard that a child coulcl be cured of tho whooping-cough by inhaling crude gas. How many troubles might mankind bo spared if they would only stop to hear each other's explanations ? How many ailments both of body and soul, if explanations came more frequently and freely. L. C. Hopkins, tho great dry goodB merchant of Cincinnati, is going to re tire after thirty years' business, rich and honored. Advertising did it?ho spent $"-3,000 iu a singk> year in tho newspapers. Last Sunday ovening, at Atchison, during tho stampede from tho church in the middle of tho sermon, caused bv an alarm of fire, tho pastor said : " I never talk against a fire-bell or a steam boat whistle," and pronounced tho benediction. At a fire in Poughkeepsie, tho other mornipg, the foreman of one of the hose companies rolled his carriage to the fire alone, made preparations to stretch hose, which, fortunately, how ever, was not needed, and then, with out any assistance, took the apparatus back to the house again, called tho roll, aud entered a fine agaiuRt every one of the absent members. The Last Words of the Dying. Tho last words of tho dying are eagerly sought after, and enchained in memory's bosom, by loved ones. Tho hero, atanding upon tho field of battle, amid tho booming of cannon and tho rattle of musketry, "is stricken down, and, dying, ho uttered some sentiment, which tells tho living ho fought bravely, and died loving his country. Hi* words thus uttered are chanted in his praise, pass immediately into his tory, and are preserved to bo handed down from generation to generation. Tho mother, bending over the couch of her dying child, eagerly listens for its last words. As the heart's pulsations grow feeble, tho respirations becomo moro laborious, she silently list* lis. Now the pale lips are parted, and she draws nearer, until her ear comes in contact with tho cold breath, when she catches tho last faint murmur of tho dying one. Oh, how she treasures in her pure heart that last " (Jood-bye," that last token of going to heaven ! The husband, through weary days and nights, has been watching tit tiio bedside of his darling wife, until, now, tho dread moment approaches when she shall be wafted beyond the river of death. Under 110 pretense will he now leave her, and why ? Ah ! he is waiting and listening 'or the last, whisper. As sho speaks, her words echo and re-echo through the chamber of his soul, and remain thero throughout the mystic futnre. As a young lady reads over tli.> 1 i of the slain in battle, and her weeping eyes rest upon the name of her l-.v v, almost her first thought is, " I >111 ho leave rnO a dying message ?" Tho sweet sister of a shipwrecked brother impatiently awaits tip- arrival of some one rescued from the wreck, to learn if her brother, as he was swept beneath the dark waves, sent licr a dy ing wgrd. ^ Yes, dying words are those most sought after and cherished by the hu man heart. Amid all the cares and dis appointments that may surround us in life, we never can forget the lust faint whisperings of the dying. Match FTiirf A ragged, forlorn look ing urchin entered a store in New Or leans th? other day, and addressing the merchant piteously, asked " a nickel to get my mother a lot. o' broad, please, sir." A jovial neighbor, also a mer chant, with a sly twinkle in liis rye, thinking to have a joke with tin' boy, produced a nickel, and said " My son, this nickel I worked for ; now, what will yon do for it?" Quick as thought the boy " went down into Ins clothes,'' and producing a nickel, exclaimed, " i ll match you, sir I"