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'*>*** ?? I i i i?i i _'
A. REFLEX OB POPULAR EVENTS*
"% ' i - i j-j'-ui.-.u.i-rjuj.j?ujxi_i-juiui?g ii.'i i l-l?..l_j_ _._ . I,, i m iii ??mmmaarn
JOHN C. BAILEY, 1'KO'R. ;| GREENVILLE. SOUTH CAROLINA," JANUARY 12, 1870. vm vv. mo u
| i L . ' -' ? ?'l' * ' - " ill ' '
(3 F. TOWNES.
EDITOR.
J. 0. BAILEY, AiioeliU Editor.
Subscuiptio* Two Dollars-per annara.
Auvbrtiskuksts insertod nt the rates of
ciho dollar per square of twelve Minion lines
(this slsed type) or less for the first insertion,
fifty cents each for the secoud and third inner(ions,
and twenty-five cents for subsequent
nsertions. Yearly contracts will he mnde.
All advertisements must have the number
of insertions marked on thetn, or they will bo
inserted till ordered out, and charged for.
Unless ordered otherwise. Advertisements
Will invariably bo " displayed."
Obituary notices, and all matters inuring to
to the benefit of any one, arc regarded as
Advertisements!
Her Letter.
I'm sitting alone by the fire,
Dressed just as I came from the danco,
In a robe oven you would admire-'
It cost a cool thousand in France ;
I'm be-diamond out of all reason.
My hair is done up in a cue ;
In short, sir, " the belle of tho season "
Is wasting an hour on you.
A dozen engagements I've broken ;
T left in the midst of a set;
Likewise a proposal, half spoken,
That waits?on tho stairs?for me yet,
They say he'll bo rich?when be grows up?
And then he adores ine indeed.
And you sir?are turning your nose up,
Threo thousand mites off?as you read.
" And how do I like my position 1"'
? auu wnav uu jl luina 01 www
*4 And now, in my higher ambition,
With whom do I waits, flirt, or talk?"
? And isn't it nice to havo riches,
" And diamonds, and silks, and all that?"
t< And arn't it a change to the ditches
And tunnels of Poverty Flat ?"
Well, yes?if you saw us out driving
Kach day in the park, four-in-liand?
If you saw poor dear inntntna contriving
To look supernaturally grand ?
Iff you saw papa's picture, as taken
By Brady, and tintod at that?
You'd novcr suspoct be sold bacon
And flour at Poverty Flat.
And yet, just this moinont, when sitting
In the glare of the grand chandelier?
Id and glitter befitting
Tn^^nncst soiree of tho year"?
In tho mists of a ijnte tie Chamber;/,
And the hum of the smallest of talk?
Somehow, Joo, I thought of the " Ferry,"
And the dance that we had on " The Fork }"
Of Harrison's barn, with the inustro
Of flags festooned over the wall ;
Of tho candles that shed their soft In*tro
And tallow on head-dress and shawl |
Of the steps that we took to one fiddle )
Of the dress of my quocr ei's-n-r/s /
And how I once went down to the middle
With tho old man that shot Saudy McUco;
Of the moon that was quietly sleeping.
On the hill when the timo came to go;
Of the fow baby peaks that were peeping
From under their bed-clothes of suow ; *
Of that ride?that to mo was tho rarest;
Of?the something you said at the gate ;
Ab, Joe ! then 1 wasn't an heiress
To " the Igpt-paying lead iu tho State.*'
Well, well, it's all past, yet It's funny
To think as I stood in tho glare
Or fashion and beauty and money.
That I should be thinking, right there,
Of some one who breasted high water,
And swam tbo Nor'h Fork, and all that,
Just to dance with old Folinsbce's daughter,
The Lily of Poverty Hat.
But goodness ! what nonsense I'm writing?
(Mamma says my taste is still low)
Instead of my triamphs reciting
I'm spooning on Joseph?beigb-ho!
And I'm to be " finished " by travel
Whatever** the meaning of tfiat"*O,
why did papa strike pay gravel
In drifting on Poverty Flail*
OooiUnight?here's the end of my paper)
Good-night-*if the longitudo please?
For may be, whilo wasting my paper,
Your sun's climbing over the trees.
IBnt know, if yon haven't get riches,
And are poor, dearest Joe, and all that,
That my heart's somewhoro there in the ditches
And you've struck it?on Poverty Plat.
Buckwheat Cakes.?These are
peculiarly adapted to cold weather.
The appetite craves them, and
they supply the system with
warmth, to enablo it to resist for a
Ions time the feel inn / ?#* linnnan I
V?
But they must be made just right,
and here is ti prime recipe. Make
a thin hatter with a quart of flour,
half a cup of vcast. warm water
and a little saft. Let it rise over 1
night. Bake on both sides on a
griddle. . A little of the batter left
in the rising dish will servo as i
yeast for the next bath. It is bet- i
ter to add a tea spoonful of saleratus
before baking in the morning, i
and it is very essential that this be
good and strictly pure. <
Ir common salt will not enre i
worms in hogs, then give them .
spirits of turpentine?by sprink '
ling it on their food.
? MS ?
Oh* sjioonful of vinegar and one \
of salt, mixed in a pint of water, is ,
good for galls on horses. I
%
I
Itonj fat tjjt labtra.
The green lantern."
I think I am safe in saying that
Paul Stanford hated ine from the
time we were little boys at school
together, up to the peripjd to which
I am going to tell you. -Unfortunately
we had always been in
some souse rivals. We were nearly
of the same age?our tastes were
somewhat similar?our circumstances
in lifo much alike, and wo
were in the same classes and stud*
icd the same books. Probably it
was more becanse I applied my>
self closer to mv studies than ho
#i.?? r ?l -i-t?J *-? . ? ?
urn uiin x uut mnppeu i jiii i, ana
under nil circumstances, where
scholarship was concerned, bore
off the palm. Naturally, ho was
quito as clever as I was?a little
more brilliant indeed?b o t he
lacked application, and we all
know that to become a scholar requires
time and patience and hard
studv, even if one is a genius in
the beginning. Paul had one de^
cided advantage over me. II01
was handsome and graceful, all
the girls in the vicinity tnado him
aware of it. lie was self conceited
naturally, atid the adulation he
received niado him vain. Nothing
makes a fool of a man any more
speedily than to have the womenfolks
make too much of him. Gay,
and gallant, and courteous he was
to all of them?hut he coveted IKo
i love of only one. Florence W avne
was a sweet little brnnetto of two]
or three atid twenty, and all tho
young men in town wore in love
with her. Sho had only lived in
Marlcy two years. Ilcr native
place was Philadelphia, but her
father's health requiring a change
of air they had come to Marley and ,
established themselves in a pretty
cottage on the L'ownal mud. Florcnco
was accomplished in no or- j
dinary degree, and she had traveled
a great deal, which is after all
the host way of educating oneself.
In Philadelphia she had moved in
the first society, but 6hc did not
hold herself above taking part in
our rustic merry-makings, and at
the husking and apple bees, and
dances, 6hc was tho life of the company.
To do Florence justice, she
encouraged none of her suitors ^
was kind and courteous?nothing
more. As for me I had boen a
beauty worshipper always, and
whcn-I sa w Florence Wayne, I
met for the first time my ideal
woman. My heart went from ino
and never c a in o back. In my
wildest dreams I had never imagined
over so faintly that such a
glorious vision would ever come
upon me in dull, prosy old Mario}*,
where nothing evor did happen,
year in and year out. I had seen
very little ot the world, and was
shy and awkward, and the passion
I felt for the beautiful Florence
did not tend to make me less embarrassed
in her presence. Tho
fact of it was, the sight of her con
fused me to such a degree that I
was always making myself ridiculous
before her, and if she had not
been the kindest hearted ^irl in
existence, sho would ha*vo indulged
in tnnnv a lirn>-Ki Innnl.
? J i ??B" ? " ??J
cxponse. Once I summoned tip
conrago enough to invite her to
ride with me. I had as fine a
horse as there was in the country,
and a good buggy, and might have
enjoyed myself if I had not been
so awkward. As it was, I trod on
Florence's dress, struck her bonnet
with my elbow in getting into
the carriage, switched the whip
into her face, and did a score of
other things which I would have
died to prevent. Sho made me so
terribly conscious that I possessed
hands and feet that must be disposed
of some way, and bow this
disposition was to be acoomplishetf
was tho question.
Paul Stanford loved Florence,
also, but his love did not uiako a
Cool of hiin, as inino did of me ,
lie was always just so polished
and brilliant, and could say Ms
wittiest things with the dark eyes
ot Florence full upon him?just as
well as if she had been a thousand
miles off. Oh, how I envied hiin
?his easy, qniet nonchalance?
and how chafed and irritated I was
by tho patronizing air he assumed
towards inc. But at last, fate gnvo
me a chanco to do Florence a service?to
prove to her that I was
not a coward, though I might be
an awkward clod hopper.
Marlev was a sea-coast town,
and.it was to Avail himself of sea
air and bathing, that Mr. Wayne
had removed tln'thcr. Almost every
fine day, he and Florence Were
down on Point Pleasant beach?
Mr. Wayne bathing, and Florence
readingand watching Mm. ' .v ;
The attachment between this
tather and daughter w a a very
a t r o n g?possibly because Mr.
Wayne had tried hard to be both
father and mother t6 hie girl.
Sometimes, when I could get tip
sufficient conrage to do so, I would
go down to the Point and join
them, but these occasions were
rare, because I could not make
6ure that Florence wanted mo to
disturb them often. True, the always
smiled, and made room for
me on the rock vrhere she found a
sent., but sbfi Hid r?nt ??w/?l.
and 6lie had* a way of looking ont
to sen, which made mo fancy she
was dreaming drenme in which I
had no part. Stanford was not so
particular, lie was down at the
Point almost every day when the
Waynes were there, and the smell
of his cigar and his light laugh
floated landward together on the
Seabreeze. It was in July, that
the manufacturing company in
which all my property was invested,
failed, ana left me very nenfly
penniless. It was plaid that I
must go to work, and I was oourngootis
enough to bo willing to
take hold of anything which offfercd.
But the times were dull,
workmen plenty and work scarce,
and in spite of all my efforts, noth
ing presented itself for me to do.
I was gloomy and down-hearted
for the most part, and everything
looked cheerless and apprehensive.
In this mood, ono gray September
day, I strolled down to the Point.
I bad not expected any cne would
be there, but ns I turned an angle
of the path, I saw Florence in a
water-proof cloak and hood, in her
old seat; and I caught out in the
eurf the gleam of Mr. Wayne's red
bathing suit. Even as I gazed, and
before I had spoken to her, a sharp
cry broke from Florence, and I
6aw with dismay that Mr. Wayne
had got beyond his depth, and not
j being able to swim, the undcr-tide i
?which was very strong at that
time?was sucking him under, in 1
6pito of his oflbrts to resist it. In
a moment, I was buffeting the
waves, and tliminrli T am a nt./in
7 A Mill M OUUII^
man and an extra good swimmer,
I niu6t confess that more than
once, I was on tho eve o!0, giving
over and lolling fate dispose of
both myself and the helpless burden
witii which I was trying to
reach the shore. Hut the sight of
Florence standing on the sands,
her face white as death?her arms
extended towards us, gave me
strength, and by and by, more
dead than alive, I succeeded in
laying the old man at his daughter's
feet. And I would have risked
my life over and over again,
for the sake of hearing her say, as
she said then?
" William Morton, may ITeaven
over bless you ! You hare saved
all I have to lore."
Paul Stanford was on the spot
almost immediately?very much
ont of breath and very profuse in
his protestations of sympathy. >IIo
had witnessed the danger of Mr.
Wayne from Colncy's Iiill, a quarter
of a mile away, and hod come
with all haste, but too late to be oi
material assistance. He hoped,
however, that Miss Wayne would
not roruso mm the pleasure ot supporting
her father to the cottage. ]
And so by his superior tact and
address be managed to secure for f.
himself what I was dying to ask
for, the privilege of accompanying !
them to their residence. But Mr. 1
Wayne remembered with grati- \
tude the service 1 ha'l done him.
Three days afterwards I received 1
a letter from the President of the
Short Line and Point Pleasant
Railroad, saying that I could hare (
the sitnation ot station agent and 1
signal fonder at Bachlyf? Bridge. I
Tho salary was a liberal one, coo- f
sidering the dnties to be performed,
and I was indebted for the of 1
fer of the situation to Mr. Wayne 1
who was tho personal friend of the <
President. Of oourse, 1 accepted j
the proposition. I was in - noed ot 1
employment and this place would ?
nay mo a better salary than I could 1
hope to earn anywhere e 1 s o by 1
manual labor alone. It was a trnst c
of responsibility, bnt I prided my- i
self on no fear in regard to being i
able to perform duty< The t
management of the switches camo
nnder m v supervision, and also the i
draw which had been fixed in the
bridge to allow vessels to pass
through. Bj day we need balls as
signals?if the drawwaa open, t^o i
green balls were hoisted from the i
standard a tew rods below the 1
draw?if it was closed and all was i
right, two fed balls signified that <
fact to the engineers. By night, i
red and green lanterns were substituted
for the balls. So' yon will <
readily understand that any failure <
on the part of the station-master I
to attend closely* to li i 6 duties i
might send some passenger train f
to destruction in the twmkle of nn
eye. For two months everything i
wont like clockwork. I had an 1
efficient assistant in John Btitson,
a porter who had been employed i
at the bridge for ten years, and -I
knew all the ropes. I saw Florence '
not". tifiCrnft nnnUtt- ?!?/*
.... ...... vvju.nnj DlIU Ulll'll WCIII
into the city?and always calne to '1
the office for her ticket. One day i
when the carriage did not come l
for her from the cottage, I had the <
felicity of holding her soft hand for I
a moment in mine as I lifted her '
ont. !
From the time I ffibk possession i
of the railway station, Paul Stan-* I
ford had begun to manifest a sort 1
oi friendship for me. I had strong 1
suspicions that it was assumed, 1
though it seemed real enough, i
And indeed what particular object 1
he could have in feigning a friend- j
ship for me he did not feel, I was I
at a loss to imagine. I received <
his advances with a coldness whjeh '
would have repulsed most men, 1
but it seemed, to have no effect on I
him. He smoked his cigars in my i
little private room, and read his
papers there, and talked to ine in ]
genial, off-hand way?so tlion ugh- i
ly friendly that at times I was i
ashamed of myself and my suspicions.
Thinking it over now, I
know that 44 by hook or by crook " f
he managed to worm out of mo all }
the secrets of my business?if indeed
they may be called secrets;
but at that time I did not take no- j
tice of his inquiries, so gradually t
were uioy put. up. Alcanwhile 1
gftincd tlie coufidencc of the company?I
was trusted with large
sums of money, and was generally
thought well of. Mr. Wayne
invited mo to dine at his house,
and Florence sang and played for
me, and I would have been perfectly
happy if Stanford had not
made his appearance and beguiled
Florence away from my side.
One dark, foggy night?I remember
it was Friday and it was
in March?just as the clock pointed
to 10?tho hour when the llallidon
Express was duo?I beard
the whistlo of a steamboat, three
sharp whistles and ono long one?
a signal that the draw must be
opened. I seized the arecn lantern
and went out?Stitson was already
there, for ho had been set
ting the switches And hanging tip
the all-right signal.
"Ease her down, Stitson!" said
[?and we took the red lantern
iown and Itooked on the green one
in its place.
u It s enssed inconvenient having
this steamer come just at this
line," growled Stitson ; " won't old
l*iic8 ?reiorring to tlie drivor
lie Expreee? '* won't lie swear at
aeSng stopped I" j|
He opened the draw, and just
is lie did so, I hoard the whistle
>f the approaching train. But
here was no lime to notice it? v
we were fully occupied wiili get- .
ring the steamer through. By {
some mismanagement on board of
?er, she failed, and had to lte back, r
id, which fook up time, and glanc* n
ng up, I saw with horror, that in- t
stead of the green lantern, I had a
sung from the standard a moment t
igo, the rod-one was flying out i
like the eya of doom 1 j,
"Great Heavens!"*cried Stit- q
son, following my glance?44 the t
red light is np and the train will L
go to rnin, and the company'll tl
tend us alter 'em to-morrow P ti
Like lightning elsot through my n
l>rain the thought of the switch 1 >
If I could only reach it in time, 1
sould send the train, op the eteep n
jrade of the wood track, and be- tl
ore they reached the end of it, the
engineer would be able to stop. I
Jew over the rongh ground, and c
aid my hand on tne Iron rod of the ts
twitch. I had the key in my ft]
k>cket, 1 turned it quickly and c
lung back the lever! And simttl- n
tnneously a hand grasped ray 1
throat and a voice I well knew bis
Bed in my ear :
"You mean to thwart met bnt
by Heaven, I will kill you first I"
I grappled with him, and we fell
to the ground together. And the
fierce thunder of the omcoming
trained drowned all sounds and
jense ! A hot, sulphurous breath
Df flame and smoke, swept over
cue. 1 felt the gripe on my throat
relaxing?then there fell a period r
Df comparative silent coolness, and
aver sodiinly, I realized that the
train had run on to the wood track
and stopped. I put out my hand
to touch the heyia of Paul Stanford
?ho who had songht my life?but
ajreat Heavens 1 There was no
head on his body t My fingers
were clotted with something warm
*nd sticky?and overcome by tho
terrible revelation it marlo to mo
[ lost all consciousness.
When I came to mjBclf, 1 was (
lying on a settee in the station, and
a great crowd fillod the room. I
tola my story?by degrees?as I t
could remember it, ana 1 could see
that my listeners believed it. It
was settled, boyond doubt, that (
Stanford bad changed the lights r
Ho had been seen do it by one of r
the employees of the road, a stupid
fellow, who did not think of any s
harm coining from it. His object
was plain enough to me, though I ,
never spoke of it to any one. lie *
liated me-?he was jealous of my .
gaining popularity, and ho wanted ^
to ruin me in the estimation of the r
company and in the estimation of t
Florence and her father. But he j
was dead, and when I thought of e
tho fearful manner of his death, I f
forgave him freely. e
I suppose yon have guessed that v
[ married Florence Wayne, and I r
need not tell you that I am happy.
Your Preacher.
The editor being absent at Con- '
lerence, and the p-inter having ^
undisputed possession of the "?? V
easy chair, ho lias qpncludcd to *
;ive the readers of tho Neighbor ?
i few thoughts on tho reception J1
ind treatment ot the preacher : .
1. In all probabilit}', your pas
or is a stranger to his charge. If
jo, when lie comes to your church, l'
lo not avoid him and keep at a n
listanco from him, as if yon wero 11
xfraid of him but meet linn cheer- ?
fully, introduce yourself and ox- *
end to him, as a servant of God, 8
i cordial welcome to your heart, 1
[?AI1 ! O O'ortf -If ? * ^
, uuvuiiums miu y??r nresiae. w
Hiis looks liko a small matter; p
jut the manhor In which the v
weacher is receiveil by his charge P,
>fto:i affects his usefulness.
2. Receive him prayerfully, "
hat his health may do preserved e
ind his labors abundantly blessed. n
1,00k to God in faith, expecting b
rlis blessing, and it will surely ^
iome. t "
8. Receive him with a rcsoluion
to u hold up his hands," hv
i-our prayers, yonr sympathy, ^
rour purse, your time and yonr
alents. At the prayor-meeting,
he class meeting, stewards'-inectng
(if an official member) and at
ivery other 6orvice in the church,
>e at your post, ready for any
vork that may dovolve upon yon.
3y so doing, the present Confer>nco
year may be one of the most c
jracious and pleasant ever spent
>y pastor and people.
[Christian Neighbor. oj
A Good Rclr.?A certain man,
vho is very rich now, was very
>oor when a hoy ; and when asked p
tow he got his riches, he said :
44 My lathor taught me never to
day till my work was finished, d
,nd never to spend my money on
il I had earned it. If I had but
.n hour's work in a day, I must do la
hat the first thing and in an hour.
Ind after this I was allowed to tr
.i.? - 1 T U - i-- -
'.nj, biiu inull J. WU 1(1 piKJ Willi
nnch more pleasure than it I bad
ho thought of an unfiniahod task
efore my mind. I early formed
he habit of doing everything in n<
Ime, and it soon became easy for
ne to do so. It is to this I owe
ny prosperity."
Let all of our little readers relember
this and do likewise, if
tiey want to succeed in this life. ci
-? ... rc
Scrprisk Cakk.?One egg, one h<
np ot sugar, one-half enp of but P
sr, one enp of sweet milk, one tea- ta
poonful of soda, two tea-spoons of se
ream tartar; season to taste. Do at
ot stir very ihiclj. in
Crading for * Wife end Getting
Mors than WAS Bargained for.
On Tuesday last, while the trial
>f the ejectment suit of Taylor's
loirs vs. Horn beck and others was
progressing before a jury in the
ionrt house of Newport, Kenucky,
the-Cincinnati Commercial
<aya that a singular transact! n
ras disclosed by the evidence,
vhich created not a little surprise
md merriment In the conrtroom.
Hie defendants called a witness by
he name of Isaao Yelton for the
>nrp08e of impeaching the testiuony
of a witness named William
Drcntt, who testified in behalf of
lie plaintiff. After the direct eximination
of Yelton was conclnd?d,
he was turned over to Mr. Carisle,
one of the attorneys for plainiff,
for cross-examination, when
he following evidence waa elicited:
Attorney?Aro you and Orcott
)n good terms with each other ?
Witness?Yes, sir.
Attorney?Did yon nover have
tny quarrel or difficulty I
Witness?No? sir, we never did.
Attorney?Did yon not take
Drcntt's wife away from him and
un away with her; and did you
lot have a difficulty with him f
Witness?I nover took his wife
iway from him.
Attorney?Did not yon and a
nan named Qosney take his wife
iwav I
- Witness?IIis wife wont away
vith me and Goetoey, but we did
tot take her away from Orcutt;
hero was no difficulty at all about
t; it was all satisfactory : I tradid
him a horse for his wife, but I
bund that I had been imposed on,
md I returned her to him, and it
vas all right; there was no quarel
or difficulty about It.
Attorney?IIow were yon im)06od
Upon?
Witness?I traded the horse, for
lis wife, bnt ho put oi^me besides
wo children and a dog; so I reurned
her to him ; I do not mean
hat he cheated me in the trade,
or the transaction was all fair;
nit he imposed on me?he got the
est of the bargain; I bad no nso
or the two children /md the dog.
This testimony was given with
lie utmost coolness, and in a manicr
which indicated that the witless
regarded ihc transaction as
ntirely legitimate anj proper.?
Ie is a man of ordinary intclli;ence,
and has been for a long
ime a constable in the upper end
f Campbell County. XJaving re
cinded the eontreet. with
ro presume tlint lie is now prenred
to consider any new pr*>poitious
that may be submitted to
im. Gentlemen who would rathr
winter a horse than a wife,
light find it to their advantage
> give him a call, bnt they must
ear in mind that he declines to
cal in children or dogs.
? ?
Alphabet of Rulbs.?Attend
roll to your business/
Be punctual in your payments.
Consider before you promise.
Dare to do right.
Envy no man.
Faithfully nerform your duty.
Go not in tlie path of vice.
Have respect for yonr character.
Interest yourself in the Cause of
liarity.
Join some religions society.
Enow thyself through Phroholfje
not, for any consideration.
Make friends among the good
Never profess what you do not
ractice.
Occupy your time in usefulness.
Postpone nothing that jou can
o now.
Qnarrcl not with your neighbor.
Recompense every man foi his
iDor, _
Save eomething against a day of
ouble.
Treat everybody with kindness*
Use yourself to moderation.
Villifv no persons reputation.
Watchfully guard against idlems.
'Xnmino yonr condnct daily.
Yield to superior judgement.
Zealously pursue tbo right path.
- s ? ? m > ?
Mexico is again in a state of extemont
and revolution* Insuriction
exists in San Lnis, and is
jurly expected in Mazatlan. At
eubla, a mob attaoked a Prolesnt
congregation dnrin^ religious
irvices, severely injuring many,
id trying to burn some alive, ns>g
hymn books for fuel.
? VTLM Xk. T l^"WVl *rW*
Hints ob OoutiaiEvery
able-bodied young man,
during the Winter, is expected to,
ftnd generally does, do ? **ast
amount of visiting, and to ^nard
them from the rook on which so
many are splitting upon, a whisper
ot advice, as to how they can
perhaps enhance themselves into
the eyes of the young ladies, the
e' ect may not be unwelcome, and
many martyrs to late honrs will
thank ns for insinnating the snggestion
into the ininds of their
adoers. It is simply this: Don't
stay "too long. Eight o'oclock is
quite early enough to appear at
beauty's feet, ana shonld incontinently
vanish at ten. Every min
| ace you stay beyond ten, militates
against yon. Your charmer after
two hoars will begin to exhibit
symptoms (invisible to you} of getting
sleepy, it not futiguca. Her
parents will be kept ap too late,
and her mamma, in particular, deprived
of the precious privilege of
crossquestioning yonr Angelica
and dissectjpg yon when yon are
ott ot tiro house. ^ JCndeavor to
make yourself as agreeable as possible
front eight to ten and then
leave promptly. 8hort and freqnent
visits tell, when yonr setting
out pdlicy of staying nntil the ola
gentleman comes down and asks
yon to remain a few minutes longer
and get yonr breakfast, never
would connt. The young ladies
will like this better and look nil
the fresher for not having been
victimised from ten to twelve the
night before, and make themselves
more charming than ever the next
time. Young fellows suffering
from their first attack ot calf love
will think this cruel advice, but
the parents And young ladies will
not,
? ? Longing
fob Affkotion.?Love
is the deepest attribute of hntnauity
; the acaire for its kindly minieterings
is stronger than any other
desire we know. Said Charlotte
Bronte once, and very truly :
" Ilowover old, humble, desolate,
or afflicted we may be, so long ns
our hearts possess the feeblest
spark of life, thev lirMnrcn ?!-?.
shivering near that pale ember, a
starved, ghoetly longing for appreciation
and affection. To this
attenuated spectre perhaps a
crnmb is not thrown onco a year;
bnt when ahnngered a*id athir.it
to famine?when all hnmanity has
forgotton the dying tenant of a decaying
honse?divine mercy remembers
the monrner, and a
shower of manna falls for lips that
earthly nutriment is to pass no
more. Biblical promises, heard
first in health, but then unheeded,
come whispering to the couch of
sickness i it is said''that a pitying
God watches what all mankind
have forsaken ; the tender compassion
ot Jesus is felt and rel ied on:
and tho fading eye, gazing beyond
tim^ sees a home, a friend, a re
fugo, in eternity."
Iw a letter from Macon, Georgia,
to his paper, John W. Forney tolls
of a New England man whose
large-heartedness would do honor
to a British philanthropist. Mr.
Denny saw a letter in a newspaper
describing the poverty of Colonel
Ilobert Allston, ot Georgia, once a
wealthy man. and bant - ?i ?
r niua II UU"
sand dollars, begging liim to accej>t
it as a means ot restoring his
shattered fortunes. 11 Won by this
unexpected kindness, tbe Colonel
repliod as frankly, telling bis stranKr
friend that one thousand dob
rs would be of little nso, but if
be bad five, be would start the
world afresh in good heart, and
would honestly repay tbe loan.
By return ot inoil Mr. Denny forwarded
4be additional four thousand.
Tbe next step was an invitation
of Colonel A lis ton, asking
bis Boston friend to his borne in
era ? * "
ueorgia*, and be came, in the eev
enty-fifth year of his age, with his
wife, to see the ex-Confederate,
whose hone t story had reached
his heart, and whose honest efforts
were dovoted to the restoration of
the Union ho had bravely fonght
to divide.*1
Tint more fear crosses, the more
reason we have to think that wo
need them. We ought to judge
of the violence of our diseases by
the remedies whioh our spiritual
j physician prescribes for ua. ^