Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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PORT Standard and Commercial. YOL. IV. NO. 32. BEAUFORT, S. C., THURSDAY, JULY 13, 1876. $2.00 per Addbi. Single Copy 5 Cents. ^??????* Sins: no Sad Songs. 9 When I am dead, my dearest, 8ing no cad son pa for me; Plant thon no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree; Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrope wet; And if tboa wilt, remember, And if thon wilt, forget. I shall not see?the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain ; And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget. THE GOOD WIFE. A Norwegian Legend. There was once a man named Gudbrand; he lived at a solitary farm on the slope of a hill, therefore he was called " Gudbrand of the hill." Now this man had a very excellent wife, a thing which often happens, but is not so oommon; Gndbrand knew also the worth of such a treasure, so the couple lived in great peace and happiness, without thinking about the progress of years and changes of fortune. Whatever Gudbrand did his wife had wished for beforehand, so that the good man could not touch anything or change anything in his house without his wife thanking him for ftis forethought and kindness. Their life was insured against anxiety; the farm was their own property, they had a hundred solid dollars in the table drawer, and.two stately oows in the meadow. They wanted nothing; they could grow old in peace without fearing helplessness and misery, without needing the pity or friendship of others. One evening, as' they were sitting chattering together about their work and their plans, Gudbrand's wife said to him: "My dear, I have a thought; you shall lead one of our cows to the town and sell it The one which we shall keep will be quite enough to provide us with butter and milk, why should we trouble ourselves for others ? We have money in the chest, we have no children, would it not be well if we spared our arms, now growing old ? You will always find something to do in the house; there is first this then that piece of furniture to be mended and improved, and I, with my spinning wheel, oVtall Ka aVlttt fn ftfeftV ft ftt deal mfllf with you.H Gad brand found that his wife was right, as she always was. The wry next day he led the cow which was to be sold to the towd. Bat it was not mar ket day, so he found no purchaser. " Very well, very well,"said Gudbrand, " I shall lead my cow back home again, 1 have hay and straw for the beast, and the way is not longer to return thau it wastocome.'* Then he quietly toofe the road home. After a few hours, just as he begur to feel a little tired, he met a man whe was leading a horse to the tow., a verj strong animal saddled and bridled. ** The way is long and the night it coming on," thought Gudbrand; "J shall not get home with my cow befon midnight, and then very early to-mor row 1 shall have to begin the marci anew. This is jnst the sort of beast I might want, I should ride home proudly, like a magistrate; and how old Gudbrand'8 wife would rejoice to set her husband coming home in triumph like a general." . Therewith he stopped the horseman, and bargained with him to exchange th< cow for his horse. But when he sat ir the saddle he felt something like re gret. Gudbrand was old and feeble, the horse was young and lively; aftei half an hour the cavalier had to go 01 foot and wearily led his horse by the bridle, for it shied and plunged at ever} bush by the roadside. " A bad bar gain," he thought. Then he met a man driving a pig be fore him. "A nail which one really want is more valuable that a diamond whicl sparkles and is good for nothing/ thought Gudbrand, "so my wife oftcr says," and he exchanged the horse for i pig. That was a fine idea; but the Rood man had reokoned without his hos ?the pig was tired and would not mov< an inch. Gudbrand dragged the beast he pushed it, he beat it with all hi might, bnt all in vain! The pig re mained lying in the dost like a shij stranded on a sandbank. Gudbrand w&i in despair.. Now a man passed by leading a goa by a string; the goat spruDg merrily be fore him. 4 4 That might be useful to me,' said Gudbrand;4 41 would rather have tha frolicsome goat than this stupid, laz^ beast." Thereupon he exchanged tin pig for the goat. All went on wel enough for half an hour. Then th< long-horned goat pulled Gudbrand on who laughed heartily at its jumps; bu when one is no longer young, one sooi becomes tired of climbing over the rocks so our farmer, when he met a shephen with his flock, did not hesitate to giv< his goat for a sheep. *41 have got quit enough milk," he thought, 44 and thi animal is at least quiet, and wi}l neithe weary me nor my wife." . Gudbrand was not wrong, there wa nothing quieter than that sheep. I showed no ill temper, it did not butt but it did not go forward. It wanted t< go back to the flock, and the more Gud brand dragged it, the more piteously i bleated. 44 This stupid sheep," crie< Gudbrand, angrily, 44 it is more whin ing than my neighbor's wife; how gla< I should be if any one would release m from this burden." 44 The bargain is made if you like, oh fellow," said a farmer, who was passinj by. 44 Take this fat goose, it is wort! at least as much as that obstinate sheep.' 44 So be it," said Gudbrand; 44 better t have a living goose than a dead sh6ep,' and he took the goose with him. It wa no light burden. The bird was a ba< traveling companion; with beak an< wings it made stout resistance. Gud brand was soon tired of the conflict 44 The goose," said he, 44 is a bad bird my wife would never like to have sue] $ an one iu her house." And at the first farmyard he passed on his way he eXchangeta the goose for a splendid cock, with magnificent feathers and oomb. ThU time he was contented, but day was fast declining, and Gndbrand, who had started before sunrise, felt his knees totter and his stomach tall for food. He enter d the first public house he came - ~ - 1 to, and sold the cocfc lor a aonar, ana as he had a good appetite he gave away the last farthing to satisfy his hanger. " What use would the cock have been to me," he thought, "if I had died of hunger ?" When he came near to his own farm " Gudbrand of the hill" begun t> reflect over the strange journey that he had made. Before he went home he talked about it in neighbor Peter's house, who was caJled tho Greybeard. "Friend," said the Greybeard, "how did you get on with your business in the town to-day ?" "So, so," answered Gudbrand, "I cannot say that I had much good fortune, but I have not much to complain of;" and he related everything that had happened to him. "Neighbor," said Peter, "you have done a strange day's work, you will be badly received by your wife ; I would not stsuid in your shoes for ten dollars." "I may have been right or wrong," said Gudbrand of the hill, "but my ; wife is so good she won't say a word to me about what I have done." ' "I have listened to you, neighbor, and am surprised at you ; but with all the respect which I have for you I do not believe a word of what you have told me." " Will you bet that I am right 1" said Gudbrand of the hill ; "I have a hundred dollars in my chest, of which I will 1 bet you twenty. Will you do the same?" "Ies,"said Peter, " and that on tho spot." When the wager was ooncluded, the two friends went into Gudbrand's house; Peter remained standing at the room , door in order to hear what passed between Gudbrand and his wife. " Good evening," said Gudbrand. " Good evening," replied his wife; "is it jou, my dear? how has to-day prospered with you f" " Not very well, not very well," said Gudbrand. " When I reached the town, I found nobody who would buy our cow, so I exchanged it for a horse." " For a horse!" said his wife; " that was a good plan. I thank you with all my heart; we can now drive to church like so many people who look down upon us, and are no better than we are. If i. pleases us to keep a horse we have a right to do so, I think. Where is the horse? it must be taken to the stable." " I have not brought 4fcr mV said Gudbrand; " on tho way I altered my mind and exchanged the horse for a >1 P'8* " Do you see !" said his wife; " that is just what I should have done, too, in your place; a thousand thanks for it Now when my neighbors come to visit us I can place a good piece f ham before them. What do we want with a horse? People would have said: 'Look at that proud couple; they are too grand to go to church on foot' Bring up the pig quickly under shelter." " T have not brought the p.'g with me," said Gudbrand; "on the way I gave it up for a goat." " Bravo 1" exclaimed the good woman; "you are a wise and clever man. The more I think about it the more I perceive that the pig would not have been useful to us. People would have pointed to us with their fingers, and said : ' Look at those people ; they eat up everything that they earn.' But a goat gives milk, gives choose, to say nothing of the kids. Take the goat into the stable. "Neither have I brought the goat with me, said Gudbrand of the hill. " I have exchanged it for a sheep." * " Th^ I at onoe perceive," replied the mistress, "you did so for my sake; am I still so young that I can run over stones and rocks after a goat? But a sheep will give me its wool; take it into the stable. " 1 have not brought the sheep," said Gudbrand. "I changed it for a goo 36." " Thanks, many thanks 1" said the good woman. "What would be the good of a sheep? I have no loomweaving is hard work; and when ODe has wove one must cut and sew; it is hpthpr to hnv readv-made clothes, as we 3 have always done; but a goose, a fal , goose especially, I have always wished 3 for. I already feel an appetite for roasi - goc.se; let me see the creature at once.' ? " But I have not brought the goose,' 3 said Gudbrand; "I exchanged it for s oock." t "Dear friend," said the good wife, - " you are wiser than I; a cock is bettei ' than a clock, which ono has to wind up t every week. A cock crows every morn 7 ing at four o'clock; he tells us when it if 3 tigoe to praise God and work." 1 "Alas! I have not brought the cocl 3 with me; for as evening came on, I waj , a3 hungry as a hunter, and I was obligee t to sell the cock for a dollar, or I should l have died of hunger." ; I " God be praised for giving you sucl 1 a good thought 1" said the mistress a " Whatever you do, Gudbrand, alwayi a seems right to me. Do we want a cock 1 9 we are our own masters, I think; no r body has anything to command us to do we can get up when wo like. As you ar< s back here again, dear friend, I am quit< t happy and have no wish but that yoi , should always stay with me." 3 Then Gudbrand opened the door, anc - cried out: " Eh, what do you say now t neighbor Peter? Go and bring you; 1 twenty dollars." And he kissed his old wife with a 1 much tenderness as if she were hii 9 bride. 1 Dm Not Do It.?The death of i ? woman in Louisville, really caused b; 1 heart disease, was attributed for a whil* " to poison, as she died immediately aftb 3 drinking ale that her husband ha< " bought, and he had habitually ill-treate< s her. An inquest made the truth clear 1 and her husband then said : "I am' I no darned fool A doctor told me sh - had the heart disease, and couldn't liv i. more than a year, so I wouldn't run m 1; neck into a noose by p'is'ning her wht: It the year was most up, would I?" HOW DICK BARNETT DIED. < Lynched In the Kl&eli Hills by the Vigilantes ( ?How Pilgrims from Cheyenne ?eeelved [ a Stranger?Dick's Confesslon?IIls Last Letters. There were four of us seated together i around a cheerful pitch pine fire upon ? the side of a grassy knoll among the i foothills, about forty miles from Custer. 1 One of the party was a mountaineer; i the rest were members of a large, well ? armed train of Black Hillers, then toil- 1 ing and working its way through a wil- 1 derness of sage brush, endeavoring to ' reach the trail our party had discovered ? a few hours before. We had selected a < spot for a rest, whero the wind or sun, < or perhaps both, had cleared away the snow from about a huge pine knot, al- ? most petrified by age. The grass, too, ' was quite luxuriant, and offered an in- ? ducement for us to halt and rest until i the train came up. The fire lighted and ( the knot in a blaze, we brought forth < ? ? ?i i it. ;_i. | our pipes to smoKe ana warca me miatj v curtain rise. While we were calmly 1 smoking around the fire, watching the < misty canopy rise like a feathery veil i from the valley beneath us, a man sud- 1 denly rode upon us. 1 Each sprung to his feet, rifle in hand, t The stranger turned his horse away in alarm and rode quickly away. He was < a white man, and we could not and had < no reason to halt him. He rode out to i tho side of the road and dismounted. ( Th -n he prooeeded to arrange and write i upon some paper, which ho placed in 1 his bosom, and after some hesitation led 1 his horse toward our surprised party and J halted about thirty paoes distant, rifle and pistol in hand. * "Hallo there!" 1 " Hallo yourself 1" ? " Is this the Custer road ?" ] "Don't know. I've been lost all J night. Who are you ?" ] " Pilgrims from Cheyenne. Been lost J on Jenney's trail two days." ' Then the lonely stranger rode up and 1 stood restlessly awaiting interrogation. ' He said he had left Custer two days be- < fore; that he was drunk when he left, i and did not know what he had done or J how he had got lost. He received a lot : of lette s from our party, and soon after- 1 ward bade us adieu. He said he was go- i ing to the States, and we bade him look i out for his scalp aud said good-bye. ' Poor fellow! Unfortunate drunk?it < cost him his life! 14 was late in the after- 1 noon when wo met him again. We were 1 in a dry camp?a camp in whicb snow must be melted for water for man and -1 beast. The boys weie busy at work < i shoveling snow into camp kettles and < i moltiug it for t':e horses. Supper was i , over and the guards were out. A shot awoke the reverberating echoes of the hills, and a minute afterward every man ""of tho fifty-five "pilgrims" was prepared for duty. A party of vigilantes rode into camp. They had come upon the guards snddenly and had been fired ' upon. They were rough looking men, bat all quite civiL They inquired lor a lawyer. We had one, aud ho came forward. They asked for a judge. We had none, so they elected one. They a9ked for a preacher, bat found none. A clerk was found in the reporter. They j had brought back tho strange man of 1 the morning. He was a prisoner, and seemed to realize his position. He called the reporter aud handed him back his mail matter, and requested him to writo a few s-hort letters for him. This ' was done, and he signed them while court was being held?the judge seated on a pile of harness, tho jury on a 1 wagon tongue. 44 Dick Barnett 1" shouted one of those ! ' strange, crnel men. Dick turned to the reporter and, handing him his papers | aud two or three pictures, said, in a ' trembling, choking voice44 It's all : 1 over with mo, I reckon. They all know me, and it's no use squealing." ' He walked over to the wagon, while two of the party started to a barkless old cottonwood tree, where a lariat was ; thrown over a projecting limb. 44 Dick Barnett," said old Col. Lyon, ; 44you've been caught in the act of steal' ing horses from the people of these hills. ' You have also been found guilty of 1 shooting and wounding, with intent to 1 kill, Peter Lambert, and with stealing j ' his horse. This 'ere party of true and good men have settled this fact and say : 1 you must hang. What have you to say 1 against it ?" Dick, while old man Lyon was speak' ing, manifested little or no feeling. He 1 looked in the faces of all, and seemed to ' I expect some interference from the mem[ bers of our train. He paused for a mo[ ment, when he said: ; n t i?i ourtf T?amViArf. hnt ha | JL &11UW JL EIUUV A. v?v . , wanted to get the drop on me. I took his horse, and I may have taken a few 1 others, but what I done I done when I was drunk. If I've got to swing, I'll do [ it like a man; only give me time to fix ' up matters afore I go." ' Then the poor fellow 'at down, and, with tears in his eyes, wrote a letter to 5 his father in Steubenville, Ohio, and one , to his brother in St. Louis, and still anJ other to a lady in Coshocton, Ohio. . Then he arose, and, dashing the tears from his bloodshot eyes, said he was ready. He gave his rifle and a horse to Col. Lyon to be sent back to the owner, 1 Pete Lambert, and, folding his arms, ' walked toward the tree. For a moment P he hesitated. Life was sweet to him (he was not thirty). But he was seized *. and pushed forward to the tree, and J mounted the Lorse without hesitation. Then the tears came gushing from his eyes, while his arms were bolted down to his sides. The rope was passed over , his neck and drawn taut. Another minute and the horse received a blow which ' sent it galloping down tho valley, and Dick Barnett was struggling between heaven and earth. It was soon over, the rope was untied, and he fell to the earth and was left to the pilgrims to bury. We rolled him up in his saddle blanket and interred him in the blood-red soil a of Red canyon, with a pine board at his P head inscribed: "Richard Barnett, of B Steubenville, Ohio. Died February 26, J 1876." 1 Two men own 600,000 acres of land , in San Joaquin and Santa Clara valleys, t California, upon which they pay about e $5^000 yearly taxes. Their names are e Lux and Miller, and they began their y business lives in San Francisco as q butchers, without any capital. The land , is used as meadows and pastures. George Washington and his Equipage. Washington's carriage was of a light (ream color, painted on the panels with ] jeautiful groups by Cipriani representng the four seasons. He was preceded j )y two gentlemen with long white vands who kept back the crowd. His (tables at Mount Vernon were fur- 1 fished with thoroughbred horses. When he appeared on horseback i t was always with fine equipments, accompanied by his servant. For Mrs. ] Washington he kept a chariot and four lorses, with black postilions in livery, j The following order, sent to his London igent for out-of-door equipage, savors )f a republican simplicity which would I iause a stare in these later days: " Man's riding saddle, largo, plated j (tirrups, and everything complete. A j rery neat and fashionable (I) Newmarket (addle cloth. A large and best (!) portnanteau, saddle, bridle and pillion. ' ZJloak bag, surcingle; checked saddle sloth. A riding frock of a handsome (!) Irab colored broadcloth, with plain dou- f fie gilt (!) buttons. A riding waistcoat I )f superfine scarlet cloth and gold lace, rith buttons like those of the coat. A ] om+nnt A np At, f h switch , l/IUD DU1VVUV WMVI ? ? ^ whip, silver cap. Black velvet cap for servant." , He was very fond of horses, and his j 3qnipages were always of a superior or3er. He kept a register of both horses md hounds, and in hunting was always superbly mounted, and wore a blue coat, ' scarlet waistooat, buckskin breeches, top coots, and velvet cap. His pack of ? bounds was very numerous and select, < md he used to hunt three times a week. When he broke up his kennel he formed ( i deer park of a hundred aores. For ( breakfast the custom of his time and society was tea and coffee, roast fowl, bam, venison, game, and other dainties. < Never was there a more generous hos- < positality than his. House and apart- 1 ments and servants were at the disposal cf the guest. At dinner the center of ( the table contained five or six large sil- 1 ver or plated waiters, those at the end 1 aval on one side to correspond with the shape of the table. The waiters wcro , filled with mythological alabaster figures. On the outside of the oval formed , by the waiters were the dishes. He had a silver mug of beer by his plate, and fie drank several glasses of Madeira wine. His wines were always the best that could be obtained, and nothing could exceed the order with which his table was served. Every servant knew what he was to do, and did it in the most quiet and rapid manner. The dishes and plates were removed and changed with a silence and speed that seemed like enchantment.?Qalaxy. "Mother," J It is the cry of the iu$mL. ?Kst from the cradle ; it is the only balm that will heal the wouuded heart in youthful days. "Mother, I'm hurt, "mother, I'm tired," " mother, sing to me, rock me, tell me stories." It is always "mother" with the child and the lad. No one like mother. No hand that falls on the fevered brow as often as hers ; no words so sympathetic as those that pass her lips. The house would be a grave without her. Life would be a dreary, thorny road without her warning voioe and guiding hand. A father i? t---J 1 a*ta rinf lnoa hnf f.ViA may LKS MUU, uiaj wiu uw ivuU| .uv wearied child wants the mother's arms, her soft lullaby songs ; the caresses of her gentle hand. All childhood is a mixture of tears and joys. A kind word brings a smile, a harsh word a sigh, a fall is pain, a toss a joy. The first footsteps, weak and trembling,grow stronger by the guidance of another's love. The little wounds, the torn clothes, the trials, all vanish at the words of a mother, and there is built up in the heart of every man an edifice of love and respect that no crime of his can topple down?no dungeon cell affect. And a lad grows to be a man only to find that " mother " is the same. If he errs, she weeps; if he is good and man ly, she rejoices. Hers is tho only love that lasts?endures forever. The wolf of starvation may enter the door, but her love is only tried to shine the brighter. All the world may call her 9on a criminal, but the mother only believes it not. Trials may beset you, storms gather over you, vexations come, ruin drag you down, but there is one who ever stands firm in your cause, who will never leave you. The criminal on the scaffold has suffered in feeling because his bad deeds would cause a pang in mother's heart. The low and wretched, dying in some dark abode of sin, have died with the name upon their lips. There is no praise like her praise, there are no sad tears that pain us so much as hers. Dun tali aH fnr Pi rflPV. X UU19UVU IV* ? ? . Most of tho sentences in the case of the German ship Anna have been carried out at HoDg Kong, showing that the Chinese government, when it does make up its mind to punish its people, goes to the furthest extreme. Two of the mnrderers were apprehended and executed, and rewards are offered for the capture of tho others, who escaped. Those who looked on while the slaughter was done, but took no active part, have been beaten and banished. Several houses on the islands whore tho plundered cargo was concealed have been burned by the public officers. The coolies who moved the cargo from place to placo have been flogged. The military officials of the district have keen dismissed from the service and deprived of their buttons; likewise the civil authorities for their failure to act expeditiously. The full money compensation has been given for the stolen property, and nothing remains now to be done but the burning of the junks in which the cargo was transferred from the wreck of the Anna to the shore. The evidence upon which these sentences were passed tends to show that the murders were not originally prompted by piratical intentions, but were in revenge for brutal treatment to the men by the captain and mates of the Anna. Tho belles of Seville have adopted a new and ingenious device. They keep long ir.dia rubber speaking tubes in their rooms and drop them to their bvers, who are thus enabled on the lower level cf the street to feel their dames' breath on their cheek- and to whisper soft nothings into the fair ones' ears. Fashion Xotes. I Girls' polonaises are butt ned bolind. Flounces are in the height of popuarity. White muslin toilets for fetes are made vith polonaises. The repousse form of ornamentation s rovived for silver. Sack aprons are imported, such as French children wear. The Russian blouse is popular for Doys until they are ten years old. The " visite " mantelet is a copy of die scarf mantle worn a generation ago. Linen and cambric dresses are made in much simpler style than they were last year. Fashions of a hundred years ago enter largely into the fashionable ladies' toilet 5f to-day. Old jewelry is in demand, especially * * ' 1 1 Koadn fnr moe nacKiea uuu iuwo ui 6v.u ? the neck. M. Worth shows glittering jet to enter Into the garn ture of black grenadine Iresses generally. Very fashionable ladies appear at balls with their hair dressed in the mode of Louis XVI.'8 time. Soft silky materials, called Louis XVI. fabrics, are of the same nature as foulards, only handsomer. English and Hamburg embroideries ire largely used for edging percale, cambric and linen dresses. Plain black grenadines are no longer 3onsidered stylish, stripes, plaids and imall brocaded designs being preferred. Extra wraps for summer are introduced of light gauze wool in fashionible colors and trimmed with woolen lace. Little girls' extra wraps take the form of a polonaise, short enough to show two or three inches of the dress skirt below. A recently imported carriage dress shows a sort of fichu known as the colJet de conspirateur, composed of several small capes. Very young ladies in Paris do not wear ecru lace strings on their bonnets, but broad ones of white crepe lissq edged with a fluted frill. Centennial sashes, some six or seven inches wide, are intended for both little girls and boys, and are worn tied loosely below the hips. Among the more notable imported Ijonnets are those designed to be worn at the side of the head and turned up high on the left side. A revival of Louis XV. waistcoats embroidered with subdued colors in cream, maqye or greGtr satin; tcrbe "Worn with either black or gray skirts. The eccentric fashion of red parasols, prevailing abroad, is rivaled only by I black ones trimmed either with white lace or heavy network fringe. Short skirts, without trairs, for morning and country; high boots with low heels, and uppers made of the same ma oim'oI d? fVio dress, are worn with these sensible costumes. Dangerous Soap. We have remarked of late, the Scientific American says, the introduction into the market, under high sounding names, of various strong potash combinations intended for laundry and cleansing purposes. One of the preparations, which appears to contain -more caustic potash than other ingredient, lately caused the death of a child who accidentally ate a little of it; and we have found the same stuff strong enough to remove old, hard paint from wood work when merely wetted by the same and allowed to rest thereon for perhaps an hour or two. Wo advise our readers to let such preparations severely * alone: they are ruinous to clothes, and, except to cleanse kitchen floors or other grease soaked places, should not be used. Even the ordinary low grade soaps are heavily charged with soda and impurities, which, the manufacturers say, they are obliged to use, in order to hold their own with fraudulent dealors who adulterate still more heavily; and these soaps are also highly destructive to fabrics. It is much better economy to purchase a good quality, even a superior quality of white soap for household purposes; for the extra cost of the soap will, in the end, be more than saved in the lessened wear of clothes, of oilcloths, and of paint. It is hardly necessary to add that strong alkali soaps should never be used on the skin, asjheir effe t is corro aive and harmful. The object 01 using soap for the toilet is simply to overcome the natural oil which exudes from the body, and render it possible for the water to combine therewith; and very little of the mildest soap is ample for this purpose. Sunday Dinners Quickly Prepared. When there is a family of five or six persons, more or less, and all want to go to the morning service, and stay to Sunday-school, their appetites are pretty well sharpened by the time they get home, especially if there is a ride of two or three miles. I have experimented in various ways that we may have our dinner as soon as possible after getting home, or each one begins to help himself, which causes much confusion and spoils the meal. I find that by leaving the teakettle on the stove, and filled, with a little l're, the water is in a condition to boil quiokly, and mush is soon prepared. In cold weather nothing is better than oyster soup, whioh requires but a few minutes' cooking. A good meal is quickly prepared by having a chicken made ready over night by dressing and stuffing, and when it is ready to put into the oven when the family sit down to breakfast. It requires little care, and is nicely browned by church time, and keeps warm in the oven until wanted for diuner. I find it a great help to have potatoes ready to warm over. Often meat is boiled or roasted on Saturday, which relishes well cold. A rice pudding, made without eggs, and left iu the oven, is nice with sugar and cream. Overgoverning Children, Children are often brought up without any particular habits of self-government, because the governing is done for ' them and on them. A girl that is never 1 allowed to sew, all of whose clothes are made for her and put on her till she is i ten, twelve, fifteen or eighteen years of ] age, is spoiled. The mother has spoiled 1 her by doing everything for her. The true idea of self-restraint is to let the < child venture. A child's mistakes are often better than its no-mistakes, be- I cause when a child makes mistakes, and has to correct them, it is on the way to- , ward knowing something. A child that is waked np every morning, and never wakes himself; and is dressed, and never makes mistakes in dressing himself; and is washed, and never makes mistakes about being clean; and is fed, and 1 - ? ?*11. I.*- i?J. : never has anything to ao wku uib jwu, i and is watched, and never watches himself ; and is cared for and kept all day from doing wrong?such a child might about as well be a tallow candle, perfectly straight, and solid, and comely, and nnvital, and good for nothing but to be burned up. The poor weaver who has a large family of children, without bread enough for half of them, and sets them to work, is a philanthropist. Ton may gather around them and mourn over them, but blessed be the weaver's children. The twelve children of the poor weaver will turn out better than the twelve children of the millionaire. I would rather take an insurance on the weaver's children than on the millionaire's. Blessed are those that learn by the hard way of life what every man must learn first or last, or go ashore a wreek?namely, self restraint. The steel that had suffered most is the best steel. It has been in the furnace again and again; it has been on the anvil; it Las been tight in the jaws of the vise; it has felt the rasp; it has been ground by emery; it has been heated and hammered and filed until it does not know itself and it comes out a splendid knife. And if men only knew it what are called their " misfortunes " ore God's blessings, for they are the molding inflaences which give them shapeliness and edge and durability and power. Trial by Jury. In discussing our jury system, Frank Leslies Illustrated Paper says that, in an action in New York city, involving . nearly a hundred thousand dollars, after a long trial, and after a luoid charge by the judge, one of these intelligent creatures arose and asked the judge to oblige him by explaining the meaning of two words which had been used a good deal during the trial?the words "plaintiff" and " defendant." And in another case, tried in the supreme court, being an ao-1 tion to set aside certain 1111111 vm] Afrfnta on the around of fraud, tbe4 trial had lasted more than a week, and the jury had been deliberating over j their verdict for several hoars, when, at their request, they came into ooart for farther instructions, and one, apparently the most intelligent of them, coolly j stated that the jury did not understand what was meant by a conveyance. In civil actions for libel juries frequently shine forth with dazzling radiance, and woe to the unhappy journal that oomes before a jury which includes among its members a man who has ever been mentioned in a disagreeable manner by any paper, if it were only the chronicling of his arrest. Reports of judicial proceedings are privileged if published without comment, and yet not long since one of onr leading dailies was sued by a noted personage for publishing what was admitted to be an accurate report of a criminal proceeiling, introduced by a heading in capitals: " The last of Count Blank"; and for these five words a i New York jury gave a verdict for seven i hundred and fifty dollars. It is true that on appeal the general term reversed that decision, and on a new trial a judge was found fearless enough in the discharge of his duty to determine that the plaintiff had suffered no damage by the addition of the words complained of, and the aotion was dismissed. An Insane Woman's Deed. For many years Mrs. Sallie Faddis has lived in Little Beaver, Fa., for some time past her only companion being her daughter Rachel, about .twenty-five years of age. This daughter has i or a long time manifested symptoms of insanity, at times being extremely violent. Her violent spells were of rare occurrence, however, and although Mrs. - J A- 1 Items of Interest, A woman in Mvon, Ala., bad twin* ;wice, and th? n triplets and after the ast lot Ler husband ran away, and has not retnured. Why is a candle maker the worst and most unfortunate of men? Because all his works are wicked, and all his wicked works are brought to light. At Montreal a man named John Badford was sent to jail lor eight davs at hard labor. He has no arms, and his offense was assault and battery. A bold rascal on an Illinois railroad train pretended to be the conductor, collected all the cash fares in two cars, and jumped off with the money. The very last enrioeity spoken of in the papers is a wheel that came off a dog's tail when it was a < wag gin'. The man who discovered it has retired from public life. A divorced woman, whose children had been taken from her in Northampton, Mass., has sever 1 times attempted to drown herself, and a guard is kept over her night and day. A circular from a wholesale stationer, recently failed, says tiiat having settled with his creditors at fifty per cent., he is in a position to offer customers unprecedented bargains. A fascinating young widow having married again, annoyed her second husband by frequent references to her first, whereat he finally remonstrated. " I dare say," replied the fair creature, pouting her pretty lips, " that you'll be' glad to have me remember you when you are dead and gone and I'm married again" Some medical gentlemen recently addressed a communication to a minister well known for his wit, requesting him to preach a sermon to them. He replied that he would, and stated that he * * A?A . H fn kia difl. would taKG ior ms us*.* . ?u ? ease Asa sought not to the Lord but to the physicians; and Asa slept with his fathers and died." * French statistics show that woman is six times less criminal against person, four times less criminal against property, and twice less hardened a criminal than man. The record also proves that maternity is a better shield against bad life than paternity. Of 1,000 female criminals 251 are mothers, and of 1,000 male criminal 324 are fathers. " Woman," said the fat man on the cracker barrel, reflectively, " woman is like a boil. When another man has her wo laugh at him; when we have her ourself we cherish and protect her." He seemed to be a man of pure and lofty sentiments, and when he said he guessed he'd go go home and give his wife a chance to do the chores, everybody respected him. ^gkLlhfl-small boy to his sire : " My wertJ WJjnM made?" "That fish might live by eating them, my son," replied the parent. " But, my father, why were flshes made ?" " My son, that you and I might live by catching them." " But, my father, why were you and I made?' "That the worms might live by eatir;g us, my son," and he small boy dropped the subject Canning of the Adder, A correspondent of the Milwaukee Sentinel states that, over thirty years ago, in Leeds, Greene county, N. T., his attention was one day attracted by the plaintive cry of a cat Looking into a garden an adder was seen near the cat The cat seemed to be paralyzed by fear of the adder; she kept up the plaintive cry, as if in great distress, but did not take her eye off the serpent, or make -* * any attempt to attACK or escupt? UWU the snake saw that human eyes were observing him and he commenced to crawl slowly away. "I then," continued the writer of the narrative, " concluded to release the cat from its trouble. I took a garden rake and put it on the snake's back, and held it without hurting it As . . soon as I had the snake fast in this position, it raised its head, flattened it out, and blew, making a hissing noise, and something resembling breath or steam came from its month. When that was exhausted I removed the rake, and the adder turned over on its back, lying as if dead. With the rake I turned it over on its belly again, but it immediately turned on its track. This was repeated several times. At last it was taken out of the garden, laid in the road, and we all retired to watch its movements. It oommenced to raise and turn its head slowly (looking alx)ut the while) until entirely on its belly, and started at full speed for a little pool of water in the road, from which it was raked out and dispatched." % Why It Was. A zealous Oongiregationalist once told the following, which she greatly enjoyed : Daring a visit among Baptist friends in Pittsburgh she accepted the invitation of the superintendent to be present at the Sunday-school and take a class of little ones just sent up from the infant department. The lesson introduced John, the disciple of our Lord. As older heads have often confounded him with that John who " came preaching in the wilderness," the teacher felt anxious to bring out his personality clearly. . So she asked: "By what names do you know this John ?" "John the Evangelist," "John the Revelator," "John the Ifcloved," answered the , eager voices. " Why was he called the Beloved ?" continued she. "Because Jesus loved him best" " Why did He love him best?" persisted our friend. Imagine her discomfiture when a sweet voice lisped: " Tos he was a Baptist!" Singular Accident. * Jarrette Pounds, a young gentleman of Griffin oounty, Ga., was engaged in cutting wood, when a large ohip flew up and struck him over the eye. A few minutes after receiving the blow he made an effort to blow his noes, and actually blew his eye completely out of its socket, leaving its central attachments. The eye was replaced by some friend, but the young gentleman soon after the accident becar.* insensible, and had several convulsions. The eye was examined by a physician, who states that it is unimpaired , and it is firmly fixed in [ its place again. 9 Faddis bad often noen auviaeu w iinvo | Rachel placed in an asylum she always refused, saying that as long as she could manage her she preferred to have her home. A few weeks ago the old lady was missed from her customary rounds, and a call was at once made at her house. There was no one to be found there but RacheL She was asked where her mother was, but the only reply she made was: " They took her to glory." Fears were at once entertained that the old lady had been made away with by Rachel. A woman living neajr Mrs. Faddis' said she had heard loud screams at the Litter's house a night or two before, but as Rachel was in the habit of occasionally indulging in loud lamenta" 1? nsvfhinar flpriniislv of T/10D8 MlitJ (iliuuguv aawvumsq ^ tho matter. The country was searched for days, but no signs of the remains of tho missing woman could be found. At last a visit was made to the house, Rachel having been removed to other quarters. The stenoh that pervaded the rooms was horrible. Disinfectants were scattered about the place, and two men, stimulated with brandy, made a search of the house. They found a closet in one corner of the house, the existence of which had not been known by any one before. In this they found the remains of Mrs. Faddis. The head was severed from tho body, which had been chopped into numerous pieces. There is no doubt that Rachel, in one of her violent moods, overpowered her mother, killed her, and then cut the body into pieces to stow it away in the closet. Mrs. Faddis was sixty years old. A guardian was appointed for a woman iu Bridgeport, and she illustrated the dangers and hardships of his office by whipping him in the courtroom.