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:mm?z=?m 1 ? , ?, .--???-:?? ;,:,? BE!. ? n? r ~i \,* i ^ ,N'jyj 1^1 j :'*? ? ]j:r : . t! ?' A;: '" ' Y. ''? .fH'l ' v" u FBANK. P? BEARD, Fublishor. JT7ST JUSTE) PEAR NOT. VOL. X. ? TWO DOLLARS A YEAR. CAMDEN, KERSHAW COUNTY, S. C., THURSDAY, JUNE 14, 1883. T i;:. NO. 38. ? etfifjaiw isajctte. ? ' ? THE PEOPLE'S PAPER. ' -* * ? WUUIB1P AT CAMP1W. ?. O. * FRANK P. BEARD. Publisher T* Corretpoaitnte. V v All communication* for this paper ibooM be ao> eonipuul?a by tho naine of tbo author, not oocea *rl)y for publication, but m an evidence of good faith on tto part of tbowrlter* Write oofer o? oo* kiUo of Ut? paper. Bo particularly careful la ctvte? name* and date# to bar* the letters plain and 4l? Uuct, ?? ; ? ? . The Gazette Job Printing Office 1* hitter prepared than wy other oAce la town, to exocntc lu the moat attractive styles every dwcitv tlou of Job Printing, such u l'auiphlet?. Dill Head*, I .otter ud Not* Head*. U? DrMv rosters, Dodgers, Circulars, Hud Ditto. TTiM^c, VU". tl OS u>d Addr*** Cards, FuUacsa Cards. U>?1| JU. Work iooo lu Bronse, Red, Dlue ana Blac* The public must remember that tho boat Is alir*y? the eheapcct. Wo do work at Charleston Prtccs, and guarantee entlro satisfaction to our patrous. W . keep constantly on hand tho largttst stock ? Papers aud Cards In towu . WAiTINO. Where the ?unligbt and the shadow Strive throughout the day, Happy children in the meadow Goyly laugh and play ; Boasting one above another, As they idly roam, How will each surpass the other When their ships come home ! We, who smile at childish prattle With a stately air; We, who fight a sterner battle With our daily oire ? Though a prudent, grave advise* Each himself may deem? Are we really so much wiser Than the children seen? Have we not, alas, how often I Through departed days, Watched for cold, gray skios to soften Into golden haze? Looking o'er life's troubled ooean, White with angry foam; Waiting through the day's commotion, Till our ships come home? Hope, that shed a fuller splendor, O'er us as we went; Love, that gleamed so true and tender With a Clear content; Wealth that might bo had for winning, Peaceful heart and brow; These wore ours at life's beginning? Aro thoy with un now? Still, the children's happy laughter Riiplos in our ears; Heedless they of what comes after, Careless all of fears, Youth and ago aro linked together, Onward as they roam, Waiting both through changing weathsr Till their ships oome home. OBANDBCAMA GOEDEN. Although of mature age, I had fallen bo completely into my uncle's f tower as to givo him the most abso ute disposal of my hand. I was brought up most unwisely ? in other words, with expectations? and conse quently I wai good for nothing elfe hut to keep on expecting. 1 spent many years as a walking g ntleman of society In London, and many more in wandering to and fro upon tne Con tinent; but at length, when actually within hail of forty, I found myself with my legs once more under the mahogany of the Atheneum, and with nothing to pay for the good things above it but what came out of the po l&ts of a tough and somewhat per ' emptor y ohl man. He had never before insisted upon my marrying; but t io reason was that he had remained in constant expecta tion of the.ee urrenco taking place through my own connivance. Indeed, it had been his business for many years to iiiterpi>8<3 g ntly betwe n me r.n l the catastiopUe, suggesting now that I did not know er.oigO of the lady, and again that I knew too much, and so forth. The fact is, I had ncVer been with out expectations of taking a wife, always voluntarily abandoned, till my first crop of gray hairs appeared. After that the oiihculty wa* on the side of the lady ; and I was at length so much (lisgitftted by the unrea<on ableheBS of the sex that I determined to live and die a bachelor. Just at this time I received from my uncle a lett r which was short and to the pur i 'pose. " Dear Nephew? I am glad to hear of what you call the'vacai cy in your heart, as you w 11 thus have no diffi culty in fulfil Ing my wishes and obey ing my solemn injunctions. You have promt8( d mov oral times to marry, and you must, now do so. X have never interfered with your choice, and you are not to Interfero with mine. The widow and heiress of my old comrade Gorden Is In the market. Our est tt? s run Into each other In such a wav that you m'ght comprise them both In the same ring fence. She is a healthy woman, and not too young ; and the arrangement is that you are to be mar ried at the end of her year of mourn ing, if she can fancy you. "Yours affectionately, , ? John Mohchison." If she could fancy mo 1 The widow of old Gordon, and a healthy woman indeed l What a horrible description 1 I thought my unole muBt have In tended td try the extent of my loyalty ; and I do not know that I had ever a fit of more bitter reflection than while conjuring up tho Idea conveyed ; for, owing, I suppose, to the idle life I had led, I bad not yet got rid of the Ideas of romance which were so unlit for mature years like mine. It was one thing to indulge my despair la old baohelofhood, and quite another to oa*ry disappointment into the domestic circle of an old woman. J confess I did hope that Mrs. Gorden owed her ! healthy oonditlon to at least some lingering remAtns of youth, hut a second letter from my uncle, in reply to my remonstrances, dissipated at ?nee my fond illusion1 by informing ie that the widow's family could "fford no possible objection, her only Mighter being well married. **"iere was no help for it. It was ssaVy to turn my meditation from ie lady to the estate, and, 1(1 thought t the ring at sit, to fancy it Vrithln a" Ing fence. But the affair eould not e slept over any longer, and I set out or mv nnowi setft. having previously ' killed to htm my full acquiescence ? Us plans. In due time I Arrived at the little town cf Bethan. distant only a few mil* frorri my destination. It was here I heard? and with cruel sndd?tttfS8lK?f * connected with my intended which made me at first determiner to rush i back to London and, if neooflary, take to street-sweeping, authorship or aaV other despertUi wdourOe Vlhfsr>thaflf: marry that Mes.vOord*m il4n passing tl??It shall go, *'.*!& thJKolce, "and so it shall, to 7 itv? to Its own Grannyma Oorden." the next minute, in reply to my hurried questions, my fears were con firmed bv the landlord. My intended old and hearthy brf 'e was an absolate ? .other-Otandmother Oorden 1 intended to go At onoeto ray but that was now impossible. My agitated mlitd needed repose. ? night s reflections were neoeeaary to arm nM with sufficient philosophy to engaging a bed at the inn,? went out to walkln the neighboring wo6<L The locality was not chosen without a motive, f r I knew that from the summit of a low hill a mile distant 1 should obtain a view of Sethan c ?urt, and I felt that, if anything could reooncile me to the idea of the healthy old widow, it would be the spectacle of her castellated mansion seated in a park which was a very paradise of beauty. Every step I advanced reconciled me more ana more to the old lady, and, when I eaw the indica* tions of trout in the stream, through the trees, I was more than ever intent But just at that moment a sound broke upon my ears which conjured up recent disagreeable associations; it was the cry of a child. My thoughts at once turned to hale, hearty, long living grandmotherhood. Visions of canes and snuff-boxes rose before my eyes, everla ting coughs rattled in my ears, and, worse than all, the g'ances of matrimonial love from the eyes of a grandmother froze my blood. How ditterent was tue scene that met my eyes as I turned the corner of a clump of trees 1 The infant 1 had heard was lying on its back on a grass knoll, fighting up with its little clenched lists, ana crowing, as the nursemaids call it, with all its might, while bending over it, with eyes brim ful of love and laughter, poking its tiny ribs with her fingers, snatching wild kisses from fts brow, and seizing its neck with her lips as if she would throttle it, knelt a young woman ? and such a young woman 1 ? a woman in the very prime and glory of her years. I did not think she could have been quite thirty. Her bonnet was lying on the grass, and her disheveled hair float ing in dark masses over her shoulders; but a bright radiance was on her queenly brow, just as a voice of per emptory command was heard in her light, joyous laugh. There was a fear less self -possession in her manner, such as years superadd to the feminine soft ness of youth, and her features, origin ally molded in wax, were now as firm, yet as exquisittly fine, a* if they had been cut in semi-transparent marble. While feasting on the beautiful pic ture formed by the mother and her child? surely that must be the relation ship ? a little incident occurred which disturbed them both. The infant, with a shriller squeal of delight and a more vigorous spasm of its limbs than it had hitherto indulged in, suddenly rolled down the kn >11, crowing as it went, and the lady, with a playful yet nervous cry of surprise, stretohed after her in vain as she knelt, till she measured her whole length upon the sod. Before she could get up, I had sprung from my ambush, caught up the truant as it lay half smothered |n the daisies and buttercups, and presented the prize to the llushtd and startled mother. To describe the conversation of such a fascinating woman is impossible. .She was not a woman of society, yet she was perfectly well-bred. She had spei.t the greater part of her life in the country, invigorating both mind and body in the pure air of heaven, visiting town occasionally, and thus she was enabled, with the assistance of books a id the g meral literature of the day, to keep pace with the pro gress of the world. I do not know how it was, but our acquaintance seemed to bo ready ma le, and, having mentioned my un cle's name, she had no difficulty pres ently in remembering his respectable friend Mrs. Gord'n. "You know Mrs. Gordon?" said I, "Yes." "Whatl Grandmother Gordtn?" "Yes." "How do you like the individual?" " I sympathize with her, for I, too?" And, breaking off with a sigh, she held up the fairest hand in the world, so as to show a widow's ring. I had not hitherto noticed her slight mourning, but 1 now saw that she was a widow, a young and oliatming widow, and that the infant was the pledge of a love extinguished by the grave. She was free, this lovely young woman, and I was about to be chain* d for l.fe to Grandmother Gordenl She saw my agitation, but, of course, could not comprehend its oause. "Come," she Said, with an angelio smile; "I see you do not like my vener able friend, but I am determined to re ooncile you to her, She is a grandmother, it is true, aud therefore n ?t so young as she has been, but she wears well ? she is, Indeed, particularly healthy; and thus, if you forma friendship with her, tt is likely to last for many years." "That is the misery of it," said I. "If she were but like other old women ? if she were but subject to the com mon diseases of grandmothers? my fate might be onduratde." "Your fate! What has that to do with Mrs. Gordon's longevity?" " X am only going to be married to her? that's all r and the absurd an nouncement was no sooner out of my mouth than the fair stranger broke Into peals of laughter, which, to my ears at that inauspicious moment, sounded like the screams of an evil *plrt^ " Pardon me," said she. endeavor I ing to oorapMe heneU ; "I am far too I giddy for a?" and the widow klated the orphan chjla. "But the idea of a marriage betWeeh you and Mrs. Gorden la really U ii ridiculous. You appear t*4*4k?martyr to circumstances ; but haaihe old lady given her oonsent?" "Her. consent? Oh, let her alone for that t It's not often that a fellow like me comes In the way of a grand mother. There is no likelihood of her refusing me } and, if I refuse her, I may a* *ell ha*g myself.* "Why think of such an alternative? Although probably dependent on fortune, yon are not too old to work and to struggle If vou will not allow poo*, aged Mrs. Gorden to enrloh yon, there are fortunes in the world still to be made by the adventurous and the Industrious/' "Give me a motive," crhd I, sud denly, "and I will both dare and suffer ! 1 cannot do it for so poor a meed as fortune ; but place in the distance something worthy of my efforts, f something rich enough to reward Them, somechng ? u "What?" said site, Innocently. "T<ovet" cried I, In desperation, and, ' ' t. '? : ' V; ' 1 pr?T<?t m?? I bad w &5T ^ ..-?????? I spent several hours with the lovely ^ r that only a little time waa wanting to en I hLEewttf h?raflwtl<?8rand then th^K ?xtortlnJf ? promise that she would not communicate my r ^Jni^ ?^8' ?or^en? ^ud that, when I called at the court, she would see me alone, that I might hare an oppor tunity of telling Jfcr what bad passed myself. When Ifcrrived ki my uncle's I found ?!iLUf 5 a YtI2 temJPer? ?? he had ex ited me the dav bef re, and matters fw?tinoLmeni wh*n 1 mentioned frankly the misgivings I had on the score of domestic happiness. ..^?mesMc fiddlesticks 1" cried he. What more would you have than a good estate and a good wife? a healthv woman to boot, come of a long-winded race, and as likely as not to lay you beside my old friend Gordon ? She is a grandmother already. Doesn't that look well ? You do not think her too O HUnDr? 1 the Old gentleman grinned, -while 1 gave vent to a spas modic exclamation -Then what dis turbs you about her ? more especia'ly when you tell me that there is a va cancy lu your heart ? But here comes A letter from the court," and tearina open a large, old-fusMoned-looklno missive presented to him by a servant he read as follows: "Mr Dear Sir? I am told that your nephew has arrived, and, as he has been reported upon favorably by one who saw him yesterday, and on whose taste and judgment I can rely, I am tempted to say, with the frankness of my character, that I shall be happy to make - li:a ^acquaintance. I am truly grateful for the many obliging things I am told he said of me, and I hope one day or other he will find them all realized. My dearest grandchild sends a kiss to you both; and, with best re gards, I remain, as usual, "Grandmother Gorden." cr*?d the old gentleman, with odious triumph. ? There is a spirit for you ! Why, you dog, you will be as happy as the day is long f? I scarcely heard him. for my thoughts IU?# Iu,Kl?lng bitt?rJy over the treach ery of the beautiful widow. She had broken hor promise, and she bad ren dered mv position a thousand times more embarrassing bv persuading the wretched grandmother that I hadheen 10 8a^ complimentary about her age, ugliness and ta rn , JtLwna cW that she was a Jilt, that .she had only been laughing at my admiration, and that she was now determined to extract further amuse ment from my calamities. I resolved however, to die game; and, telling my with8 Mrf'n thouKb weJl acquainted with Mrs. Gorden from report. I de sired to seo her personally before de orvl-i 'n fW mys?lf on horseback i?ll btr?igl?tway to the court. It had been my intention to ask for Mrs. Gorden, but the wily widow was on her guard, for, as the door opened, I heard her call t-j the servant in her here ^RniT ! "S*?W thf ?entle??* in nere, and in another minute I stood once m >re in the presence of the un iS?rni 0f *J,e, forest' 1 f?und her ??r? ^utiful, better dressed and fK?"n/er-i??,k,n? than 8he bftd appeared the day before, and, as I saw with k?\Wec,aUop the tre<Mnre I wa? about to lose forever, my resentment place aWBy' an deep Krief took its " You forgot your promise," said 1, a 8Port of my misery." What could I have said when 8he- 8weetiy But what misery do you allude to? mother?"'^ ?f marr*ln* a ?rand aJ\Yea~~Zh^n,my heart ,s devoted to another. But it is needless to talk to you; you are as incapable of passion as a statue. You could never have loved even your husband 1" ??m^rOW Rf6 ,n 8?mo d<gr?? wrong; still, I was so young when I was mar ried? only sixteen? that I looked upon my husband more as a guardian tKan r\ Was not (lulte seventeen when I became a mother." whHIe8igoP.rible? That ,fln0tR?reat 44 Greater than you perhaps suppose; for a sound constitution and salubrious air are apt to lead to mistakes.. Would ffrty"nve0re 10 1x1 w<"' on towa'<1 t " what became of your child?" cried I. suddenly. v ? " y?, married young In our family," replied ^he widow, hanging her head, "it was my daughter's infant," she continued, looking up at 5 rVOS* dutiful blush that ever lit the cheeks of a girl, "which 2L2S22L* me y^^rdky from among the daisies and buttercups, and I am Grandmother Gorden." The May Pole. The 1st of May was the chief festi val in ancient and modern times. Chaucer and other writers tell us that in JE&ngland* during the middle ages, it Was oustomary for all, even the court itself, to Join in this carnival, and the fairest or a d in the village was crowned With flowers and seated in an arbor, oovered with hawthorn, where she sat in state and received the youthful cour tiers who danced and sang t round her after the fashion of worshiping the Goddess Flora. During tho reign of Henry the Klghth, the heads of the corporation of London went out in the high grounds of Kent to gather the May, the king and Queen Katherine of Ara gon coming from their palaoe of Green wich to meet them. In every town and village was erected a May pole, upon whioh each season was suspended wrea'hsof flowers, and the villagers danocd in pretty rings the whole day through. This custom, abolished by the Puritans, was revived during the Restoration, and he!d its ground Tor a long time. May poles are yet to be seen in some portions of France and Germany, and the festive sports are still observed. One of the latest foreign Inventions is that of the manufacture of bottles, etc., from cast Iron containing some twSlve per eent. of slllcum, a com pound will :h is said to r slst the action of the strongest acids. Lonte'eua timber land* cover 15,000, 000 acres. FAB*, SARIfEH AND HOUSEHOLD. .... -I x? ? -v Tfc? Trpptr T1 mt fCmt GrtH. The report of the analytical chemist of the department of agriculture*, summing up the results of analyses of nearly all the cultivated grasses, says: It is apparent, then, that in most cases the time of bloom, or thereabout, is the Attes t for cuvting grassos in order to obtain tho most nourishment and largest relatively profitable crops, and , for the following reasons: Tae amount of water has diminished and the Shrinkage will therefore be less. The height of t le crop will be largest in proportion to the nutritive value of its constituent'. The amount of nitro gen not pr.senl >1* albuminoids will le at its lowest po nt; fiber will not be so excessive as to prevent digestion, and the nutritive ratio will be more advantageous. If out earlier the shrinkage is larger, although the fiber is loss and albumen is alittls larg?r. The pa'atability may be increased, but the total nutriments to the acre will not be so large, and the nutritive ratio will be more ab normal. The disadvantage j of late cutting are evident in the increase of fiber, destroying the digestibility of the nu triments and the falling off of the al: bunion by conversion into amides; This is not made up by the larger crop cut. farm nod Our den Not??. > The parsnip is one of the best of all roots for milch cows. Do not cut trees for timber when the sap is active, nor prune gpape- 1 vines or fruit trees on light and warm sol's. Good potatoes can be raised on straw or meadow land by putting a little phosphate in each hill, the straw to be put in a deep furrow. Ground oats form cn3 of the best feeds to promote a flow of milk either in cow*, ewes or in breeding sows. The oats will grind better if one bushel of corn is mixed with every two or three of the lighten grain. The roof of barns should be steep, and if of wood the surface either da nted or the shingles dipped in lime water to make them more durable. Straw and dirt collect under flat- roofed shingles and cause rapid decay. * A weak alkaline solution in the soil is said to promot J nitrification, while too much alkali is injurious. 1 The moral is to apply pottish and ether alkaline manures thinly,' over as much ground ai they can cover, rather than in heavy doses. Potatoes do better in a cool soil than in one that is qu.te warm. It is, accordingly, better to plant them on land that inclim s toward the north, so that they will not be exposed to the full force of the sun's rays. There is more nutriment in straw than is commonly suppoaeJ, and if rich food lik? corn or cottonseed meal is fed, mora will be eaten by stock. Straw alone is not nutritious enough for per fect feed, while corn or cottonseed meal are too concentrated. Horses kept in clean stables, espe cially if underground, are apt to suffer from sore eye, caused I y the nmmonia from their urine. A little land plaster or gypsum scattered in the stables will absorb this ammonia and save its valuable fert llzlng properties. Diluted sulphuric acid will do the same, but is not bo convenient as the gypsum,. The orchard should be cultivated at least eight yearj, or till it comes well into bearing in any hoed crop, or sown to buckwheat and let fall back on the grounl; care should be taken not to plow too near or tco deep n?ar the trees; when you se;d use red clover. It is advisable vto shorten in the branches two-thirds the last year's rowth, for the reason that the tree ai lost roots in being taktn up, and that equalizes the top and roots. In ori.er to have successive crops of Jfreen food f )r stock, small pieces of and should be sown at intervals for that purpose. Some sections will not produce in abundance, but such dim. culty may partially be avoidea by sow ing peas and oats mixed, mustard, radish, collards, kale or anything else that comes in early. Though the quantity may not be large, the green stuff wf* answer for the ohange of diet, and feervee an excellent purpose in that respect. It is a common remark that the cherry must be grafted early ? a Very indefinite term to most people. In the months of April and May applica tions to the nurseries for sciona are frequent and no such orders can be honestly supplied at such i. tltoe. An amateur gardener brought with him from Germany a man skilled in several departments, one of which was gift ing the cherry, and he claimed that earliness was the cardinal point. >IIe said that they must he grafted, in February. The Practical Farmt.r says: Among asparagus growers the rule is that hone should be cut the first year of planting. The second vear the stronger spears may be cut at first as they appear above the surface until the inldale of May, when the spears should be allowed to run to seed. The third year the bed may be cut regularly until the first week In June, when some of the weaker growth should be left, and by the 12th or 16th cutting should cease. From then on the bed may be out from the middle of March until the middle of May, not later. The best land for corn is sod ground that has been turned up in the early fall. Either harrott or work it up with a cultivator several times in the spring before planting, and the birds will e&"h time destroy multitudes of larvae. Harrow in the manure or work it in With the cultivator. If fer tilizer is used sow it bountifully broad cast. Be sure the ground is clean and well tilled before the seed is put In. Keep the Surface thoroughly stirred once a week from the thtie it can be worked until the tassels appear. Har row just as It make* It* appearance through the soil with a fine short tooth harrow that breaks the ground in the hill or drill. An exoeltont way of speedily fertil izing lend is by plowing under some heavy green eropt in this way the sur face soil Is enriched, not only by the elements which the crop derived from the Air, but al?o by mineral and vege table matters, which were brought up by it from the subsoil. The gtoen crop thus acts the part of a gatherer of plant food, and makes it easier lor any erop soon afttr this green manuring to get its supplies from decomposing vege tation in the soil. The best plants Ikdapted for green manuring are those which derivH their support principally from t e air, which grow rapidly, Which cover the ground well and whose roots penetrate deep and ramify extensively throughout the soil. Iloiuchold Hint*. ^ Kerosene will soften boots and shoes that hare been hardened by water, and will render thein as pliable as new. ' Drain pipes aud all places that are sour or Impure may be cleansed with lime water, copperas water or carbolio acid. A coup'.e of boiled eggs, with a slfoe or two of toast, will make a breakfast sufficient for a man, and good enough for a king. A little chloride of lime dissolved in warm water and left in a lamp or can which has held kerosene will deodorize it very soon. Clear tolling water will remove tea steins ; pour the water through the etain, and thus prevent it spreading over the fabric. It is stated that half a cup of vine gar in the water will make an old fowl cook nearly as quickly as a young one, and does not injure the flavor. The vessel in which it is cooked should bo of material that vinegar will not affect. Beeswax and salt will make rusty flat-irons as clean and as smcoth as glass. Tie a lump of wax in a rag and keep it for that purpose. When the irons are hot rub the:n first with the wax rag, then scour them with paper or cloth sprinkled with salt. Dishes Borrowed from the Indians. The corn was planted as our farm ers i lant it, in hula three or four feet apart, with four or five grains in a hill. Beans grew about the stalk then as now, and pumpkins or squashes filled the intervening Bpace. ? The very names of our dishes are witnesses that the European-Ameri cans learned many ways of cooking from the Indians, rone, hominy, samp, tuccotaBh and supawn are words bor rowed from the aboriginal tongues ; and the preparations of Indian corn which beSr these names were served in wigwams, no doubt, for ages before white men had ever seen the gay streamers and waving tassels of the tnalze-fleld. On a hot stone, or the bot tom. of an earthen vessel set before the fire, the aboriginal baked what the pi oneer called a hoe-cake; the toothsome Southern "ash-cake" was also first made by the squaws, who shrouded it in husks before committing it to the fire. The Indians knew how to hull corn by applying lye. They celebrated the coming of the delicious green " roasting-ears" by a solemn feast. They nourished infants and invalids with maize-gruel, and they were be fore us also with the merry pop-corn ? " the corn that blossomed," as the Hu rons called it. But " our wild brethren and sisters" used Indian corn in ways unknown to us; it was their chief food, and they " put it through all its sauces." Jeru salem artichokes, dried ourrants, pow dered mulberries ? indeed, almost all other sorts of fruit and flesh? were mixed with it. TLsy cooked little doughnuts of meal by dropping them into maple syrup. t)ne of their most useful preparations was probably that which, in Virginia, was called rocka hominy, and in New England nokick ? simply parched corn pulverized and carried in a pouch in journeying; it was mixed, before eating, with snow in winter and with spring water in summer. They used maize for many other things; of the meal they made poultices; with a bowl of mush, given by the bride to her new lord, some tribes celebrated marriages; by means of the grains of maixe, to represent a penny or stiveT, the savage cast up his accounts with the trader; grains of oorn were Bent as tickets ? to those who were bidden . to a feast ; ar.d by putting ' them | into gourds and turtle shells, rattles werelnade. The husks they braided for mats and wrought into baskets, into light ballsfor some of their gamoa, into salt bottles, and even shoes, long before the white man took the hint and made of them chair bottoins, floor mats and collars for horses. Maize was worshiped as a divinity. Children were kept in the fleld to watch the precious grain a* it grew; but some of the tribes protected the theivlsh crow, because of the legend that a crow had brought them the first seed of the plant wKieh supported their life on so many sides. From the aborigines the settlers learned the use of other articles of food, such as the persimmon of the Houth, and the so-called ground-nut of the North. Penn found the sav agos eating baked beans, a) white peoplo do yet in Boston. The festoons of drying pumpkin in the frontier man's cabin are imitated from tho In dians.? Edward KggleMon, in the Century. ' A. Pair of Kharper*. A young man at Glasgow, Iowa, was taken in the other day and done for by a new trick. He laid a wager with a stranger that the latter would not woo, win and marry a youhg lady whom, with his companion, he had* seen arrive at the hotel where ho was Hvlng. The latter introduced himself to the damsel, she smiled upon his suit, a minister was called In and they were married within an hour. ThS wager of no inconsiderable amount was handed over to the bridegroom, who left w.th his bride t'ae following day. It was afterward discovered that the couple had long been man and wife, and that they had been traveling about playing the same trick at vari ous hotels. Our tamber supply Is by no means exhau ted, yet. Mississippi has 20,- < 000.000 seres Of timber lana, Louisiana 16.000,000, and the forests of Texas, it I* estimated, are able to snpply the { eountry for 100 years. \ FOB THE FAIR SEX. Tkr?wiB( Slippers t?r C3*?d I. nek. Blading about a bride who was lately startwl on the voyage of life with the slippers of a Or Idem aid thrown after her for " go>d luck," re vives an incident at the Hartford JaiL A woman who had b.en locked up for the murder of her husband was going down to be tried for tiie crime. As she left the. female prison in charge of an officer a shower of slippers came down around Ler, and twenty slipper less women prisoners wished her "Godspeed " and "good luck." Wil liam C. Case defended her, and, al though things looked dark for her, sho had the "good luck" to bo acquitted. Her lawyer took the credit to himself, but it would be difficult to make the women believe that the slippers didn't play an important part in bringing about the verdict " not guilty." Tiillora for Ladle*. Since the ladies began to wear the heavy materials of which tfielr wraps and other garments are made, they Boon found out the fact that If they wanted to wear garments made of men's cloth men tailors would have to make them up. The ladies did not bftsitate, but promptly accepted the al ternative, and the lady's tailor came into vogue. In Philadelphia, as we learn from the 7 irow, the journeymen tailors have adopted a bill of prices for work on ladies' garments. Being asked by a reporter, " But how about the measuring nnd fitting, do the ladies like that part of the business?" ? one of the tailors replied: Do they like it V A lady who has the spirit of her kind will like anything for the sake of "the style." If there are those who don't like it they say nothing about it; but the majority of them would rather deal with men than women. They co:ne and are measured and fitted by men, just as their hus bands and brothers are. And whv shouldn't they ? I think if you were to ask them they would tell you they get better satisfaction from us than from the dressmakers of their own sex. They have confidence in the judgment of the ta;lor and in his ability to cater to their wants, and very readily accept his ideus of taste and style as correct. Fit ehlon Notes. Yellow, in all shades, is very fashion able. Pompons and aigrettes are used to ornament bonnets. Spidery, not owls, are the latest de 8ign in new lace pins.^ New bonnets have the trimmings mounted upon the top. Mix'.uro of all shades of beads ar ranged in cashmere shawl patterns are called Eastern einbro'deries. Double coquettes, where no partings are visible, are made large enough to cover the < ntiro top of the head. Some of the straw bonnets for young ladles have narrow ribbons across the crown incited just in the center. Combination suits are still in vogue, and the most peculiar shales blendtd together are considertd in good taste. Birds on the wing, at rest, in the nest and billing and doing are marked features In tne designs of new sateens. New cloth resembling Java canvas, plain, and honeycomb flannels, will be used for children's wraps for the sum mer. The small (Jreciin knot coiffure, with waved nrctimped front hair, re mains the favorite style with fashion able women. La lies' satchels are in plush, velvet or leather, both plnin and ornamental, in the bellows style and much larger than thos j of last season. Notwithstanding the preference manifest :d for flowers as a bonnet garniture, many of the broad brim hats are laden with ostrich plumes. Braided lao.es In two colors on q^tfn are new, ar.d leather laid on a lace foundation of the sajne shade is much used in millinery; leather buckles are also popular. llome of the Blue Crane, Mr. John L, Dunlap has returned from a hunting expedition In Spencer county, Ky. The only trophy ho brought back with him was a gigantic blue crane, which measured five feet from tip to tip, and was exactly six feet in height. Mr. Dunlap tells a very curious stofy of a resjrt of those oranes. About two miles from Tay lorsvillo is an island In Sayre's creek whoso area is perhaps ten acres. The Island is a favorite haunt of these peculiar birds, who annually re sort there for the purpose of rearing their young. Notwithstanding the fact that the orano is a wading bird it builds its nest in the tallest troos it can And. The island is not cleared up, but is covered with gigantio syca mores towering eighty or ninety feet in height, and the loitiest of these are selected by them for their nests. Ono of the trees has twenty-eight nests upon its topmost branches, and another has twelve. Tho nests are rude, ugly structuros, built in a slovenly mannor of sticks, lcav?s and twigs, and aro guarded jealously by the birds through out tho brooding season. Tho cranes have l>eon In the habit of resorting to thin- Island for a term of years beyond tho memory of the oldest inhabitant. Here they have been left undisturbed until It has be come a royal domain on which noth ing else of the feather* d trlbodare in trude. Tho silence of centuries broods over tho primeval forest, unbroken save by tin flapping of their wings, or it may be th? chance shot of the wander ing sportsman. Tho stream for miles around is frequented by flocks of the birds who h *re soem to lose, at least for a time, their solitary instincts, and become sociable and gregarious. They leave annually abwt the 1st of Sep tember, returning the 1st of April, and have been doing so for years and years. Their numbar upon the Island Is almost incredible, and old citizens of that country say it must be fully 1,000, perhaps much mor e.-Loii1*vil(e Cour ui-j ounwl. The green three-cent stamp will have been in use thirteen years when thto new rate goes into effect nfevt Oc tober. The Deroj Coarse. A young American, who haa trav eled, says in correspondence about the Derby track at Epsem, that the course is entirely different from anything we have in America: There are not fifty yards of level ground anywhere. I should eay that a run of the whole circuit must '>o about two miles long. On this side the 1 ground slopes rapidly down into a deep valley, so that the horse* run on ground that slants up toward the outside rail. From the bottom of the valle*y the way up on the other side is very sleep, and whero the (rack runs along the crest of , ridge beyond it, must bo four or fUe hundred feet higher than where we s.t. Up toward the beginning of the home stretch is the place which they call Tottenham corner, and all England tells you what a terrible place it Ls for a horeo to come around. But that is taffy. There are worse turns pt Jerome Park and Shoepaliead Bay. The only difficulty about this one is that it occurs where the horses are coming down a slight slope. The Derby races begin part way around the course, as the distance they run is about a mile and a quarter, 1 believe. They start in an upward slope to the crest of the dis'.ant ridge, come down around Tottenham corntr, into the straight stretch home, and end on a down hill part of the track. The course is turfed, not turned up like those in America. Much of the space down in the valley, inside the track and up on the hill beyond, is taken up with refreshment tents, Punch and Judy shows, those machines which send woxlen hor.-cs around in a circle, parties of moil with blackened faces, singing and dancing without time or tune, jugglers, acrobats and a surging mass of people. From the grand stand for half a mile in each direction, out side the track, tin re is tho same sort of thing, added to a tremendous crash of carriages, from which the horsos have been takon and housed for tho day. A third of the people present want tosell you something that is of no earthly use, and that you wouldn't bo found dead with, and the other two-thii.ds want to steal whatever you may have around in your clothes. * They are tho most accomplished thieves I ever struck, and they will steal anything they can lay hands on, no matter whether it is woith anything or not. I have seen some pretty big and come rathir promiscuouscrowds in America, but tins ons certainly captured the prize in all respects. Thore must have been six hundred thou; aud to one mil lion people there. Nobody can convoy a notion of such a crowd with more figures. It was at hast ten times as large a gathering as I ever saw at a race before. The Dad Boy. " There you drop that," said tho grocery man to tho l ad boy, a< ho camo limping into l he storo and began to fumble aronnd a box of strawb. rries. I "I have never kicko I at your eating my codiish, and crackers and cheese, and herring, and apples, but there has got to bia dhidingline soniewhero, itnd I make it at strawberries at six shillings a box, and only two layer* in a box. I only bought one box, hoping that some plumber or ga< man would como along and buy it, and by gum, everybody that has been in the stoie has sampled a straw berry out of that box, shivered as though it whs sour, and gone off with out asking the price," and the grocery I man looked mad, took a hatchet and knocked in tho head of a barrel of apples, and said * "There, help yourself to dried apples." " Oh, 1 don't want your strawberries or drieJ apples," said tho boy, as he leaned against a show-case and looked at a bar of red, transparent soap. "I was only trying to fool you. Say, that bar of soap is old enough to vote. I remembor seeing it in the show-chso when I was about a year old, and pa came in hero with me and held mo up to the show cai e to look at that tin tobacco box, and that round zinc looking-glass, and the yellow wooden pocket comb, and tho soap looks just the name, only a little faded. If you would wash your self once in a while your soap wouldn't dry up on Your handp," anil the boy sat down in the chair without any back, fooling that ho was even with the grocery man. "You never mind tho soap. It is paid for, and that is more than your father can say about-the soap that has been used in his house ,.t)io past month," said tho grocery man, as ho split up a box to kindle tho fire.? Peck's Sun. . Is the Elephant Boomed ? At tho recent sales of ivory in London there wero 129 tons offered, almost all of which c insisted of ele phants' tusks, brought from various f?arts of Africa. Tho quality of the vory offered at theso safes was rather Inferior, yet it brought ?750 per ton. Sheffield cutlers and cutlery manu facturers were tho chief purchasers. Dr. C. B. Webster, tho American con sul at Sheffield, in a rcoont report pre sented to tho government, dlrectou at tention to the largo proportion of vory small tusks brought to market. This, of course, indicates how many olo phants are destroyed in early youth. To show to what size many of these might havo attained, Messrs. Joseph Hoopers Hons, of Sheffield, oxhinlt at their show-rooms an African ele phant's tusk nino feet long, twenty' one Inches in girth, and weighing MiO rounds. This Is among tho largest usks on riord. Its present value is ?liiO. Dr. Webster remarks that an animal large an 1 strong enough to carrv such n pair of inclsoi s would at tract more attention than Jumbo. It Is estimated that tho 5,286 tons of Ivory Imported Into Great Britain dur ing the nine years fr&m 1878 to 1881 Inclusive, represent 206,016 pairs of tuskfe, and, consequently, the same number of elephant* that have died or been slaughtered to supply the de mands of luxury for the f ast nlno years. At this rate of destruction, It itf olear that tho noble elephant must rapidly disappear, and lvorr become a thing of the past, uriless the traveler of the future should reveal fresh source* of supply on a vast scale, or I manufacturers 1 e content to use some I kind of artificial Ivory for the many of the purposes to which real Ivory Is at present unneceisarlly applied. NOT YET. The days glide by on winged feet, A river flowing broad and fleet ; Thy faoe from mine is turned away, It will not bo bo, dear, alway. I'hy heart would fain its love forget, It cannot yet, dear love, not yet. I stand outside a fast-closed door, Against mo closed forevermore. Yet parts us neither bolt nor bar, Who arc so near, and yet bo far. Oh, heart, that would its love forget' And cannot yet, dear love, not yet. I hoar thy voice, so soft and low, And silont tear* unbidden flow ; While yet its music fills the air. I paso and brcatho a silent prayer. My hoart would fain its love forget, And cannot yet, dear love, not yet One step ? and I by thee could utand, And touch thy dear familiar hand ; One look ? and I upon thy breast Would lean, and, woary, tlud my res Poor heart that fr.in would love forgot, And cannot yet, dear love, not yet. One word? and I again might raise My face to thine, and raoet thy gaze ; And with no won! thy heart should read. That lovo is all a woman's need. Dear heart, wouldst thou thy love forgetf Thou canst not yet, dear lovo, not yet. If o'or thy soul hath need of mine, If o'er the truth thou canst divino, Seas will not part, nor boiy^t bar, Wo shall he near, who iw^^^Kar. True hearts that fain^^^^^ve forget, And c mnot yet, dea^pi^not yet. HUnOKOUS. Kaising the wind? Kicking a foot ball. ? Cheek. Quick sells and snmll prophets ? The weather prognosticate rs. A Western farmer advertisoi that lie wants a first-class putato-masher; thore are lots of mashers in Philadel phia. but they aro all of the small potato order. ? Philadelphia Item. An old lady was asked her opinion about Mrs. Smith, her next-door neigh bor. ?? Well," she said, " I am not the one to speak ill of anybody, but I foel very sorry for Mr. .Smith." ? Jiochester Post'Exj) reus. " No, I won't take your combings and have them mado into bangs, either," growled Mr. Oldhusband to his wife, this morning. " Why, sir ?" " litc.iusc I'd be arrested for trt-ss passing Pittsburg Telegraph, ? A $700 sexton fell from a high scaffolding in fc't. Peter's cathedral, Cincinnati, and dropped right through a $25,000 painting by Murillo. The painting was ruined. None o? Hie local papers state what became of tne sexton. ? Ila to k eye. A fisherman fished in the lake, Who tried a hi;: s icker to take; Hut jus', as he got 'm Was ynnkcri t?? the boitoin Aud thevo's wluro tbeiish took the cake. ? iSyra< M?<! Herald. A Chinese peddler in Portland, Ore gon, refused to accept an English shil ling, saying: " No good. Me heap sabe? no chicken on him I" The Ore yonian is of the opinion that when a heathen Chinee calls our glorious bird of freedom a chicken, it is time, in deed, for him tu g . " Will you please tell me what is proper for a lady lo do when she Is se.onaded?" In romances it is usually written, "The curtains were seen to flutter and a white hand emerged aad tos<ed down a rose." In roal life the heroine generally sleeps through it, and, if sho wakes, had usually better do nothing. ? The Continent. A man who ventures upon the study of Bcieneo aftor Ills marriage is apt to bavo Itis mind diverted by many con siderations that do nr.t properly arise from that study. A young Brooklyn husband hadn't finished half ^ dozen chapters of a work on geology before ho observed to his wife: " My dear, J wonder if the women of the glacial epoch had cold feot?" ? Eagle. The Yorktonn Monument. The contract for building the monu ment at Yorktown, Va., has been given to the Ilallowell (Jranito company, of Maine. The monument is to be built, of flno granite, to be ninety-seven feet two inches high, crownod with an allegoiical flguro thirteen feet high. The inscriptions contain 1,488 letters, with polished faces raised one' inch. The sunt to bo paid is $66,752, and the work is to be completed October 18, 1884, the anniversary of the surrender. The monument is erected under the supervision of Colonel William P. Craighill, United .States engineer corps. All the granite will be of first quality, light in tone and even in color. The sculptor's work, including the allegori cal figure crowning tho monument, the alto-rellevl of thirteen figures surround ing tho drum, the capital shield and palm, bands and stars on the shaft and four bas-roliefs, one on each tympanum of the die, is to ho dono by skilled men after models approved by the monu mental commission. The drum bear ing the flgurcB in relief will bo two courses in height. Tho crowning fig ure and the drum will be of the statu ary granite of Westerly, K. I. The re mainder of the monument Is to be of light-colored granite. I/eadvllle. Leadville, Col., now IiAh a popula tion of 25,000 ? some t wonky men to one Woman. Tho streets night and day aro kept quite free from improper persons, and ladles can walk about without fear of annoyance. The tax from gambling houses realizes $800 a month, and that from dance halls $600. Chinamen have been kept outside en tirely. Two wandered, unwarned, into the town throo years ago. There was a double funeral almost immediately afterward, and those Chinamen have never been seen since. Tho best of us are hampered In every effort of improvement, not alone by our own faults, but by those of onr neighbors. We inhale the moral at mosphere afound us quito as surely as natural air, and the impurity of the one will poison the character as of the other will "poison the blood. Not con gratulations, therefore, but deep regret should follow tho discovery Of faults an'' defects in other people, and If we have not enough sympathy In un to mourn on their account, we at least have sufficient reason to regret on othr own behalf.