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. _ _ _. _ ^. ...... _ THE ^TRIBUNE. VOL. I.?NO. 34. BEAUFORT, S. C.. .JULY 14, 1875. $2.50 PER ANNUM. The Dainty Maiden. Hast thou seen tlio dainty maidau As she bwiftly paBsos by ? Yes, indeed !?her liair ia golden, Clearebt aaure in Lor eye. Flits she swiftly aa the swallow Toward the nest yhore it doth bide ; GcJdeti hair a queen doth crown her? Ah, I would she wore my brido! Thou art inino my dainty maiden, Delicate and mannerly; Yet, ah, yet, thou lackeat something ? Eyes of blue, what can it be ? Indicate thou art in kissing As the Bwallow water uips ; Much too, delicate and dainty, Kissing with such pointed lips. ?From the German of Goethe. THE STOLEN LETTER. Ono raiuy night, about half-past eight o'clock, the train had dashed into MoKibben's Corners, and the mail had beert delivered at tho etoro and postoffi ce. John Fairjohn, the postmaster, had opened the bag and counted the letters. 'There were, as he made out, just ten, and one was larger than the others and had a red seal; and then he had found that ho had left his glasses on the newspaper in the back room, and without his glasses he could not read a line; and so, of course, he had gone after them, returning to find two persons in the store ?Farmer Roper and Squire McKibben, whose ancestors had given name to the place. 4> Wet, ain't it?" said Mr. Fairjohu, jnoddiug. 'Wet or not, our folks ain't going to <lo without their groceries, you see," said the squire. "Mail's in, I see. That train came near running into my truck, too. Wasn't-noticing the flag, and drdve across just in time to save myself. Any letters for mo?" 'I'll see," said Mr. Fairjolin. IIo turned to the little pile of envelopes, and told them over in his hand like * deck of cards, ' Why there's only nine," he said. 41 T*..^ T ..Via T 1-J X XXX DUl O X WVUUVOU Xl^Ub. JL UUUUK3U ton, and I thought one hod a red seal. I might as well give up keeping the office if I'm going to lose my senses like that. There wasn't any oue in here while I was gone, was there, squire ?" "Only Roper and I," said the squire, "and Roper's sou. But he didn't come in., did ho?" "No," said old Roper. " I don't think that Job came in at all. He just went off somewhere." " Well," said the postmaster, after another search, "well, I must be mistaken. Yes, there is a letter for you?your folks, anyway?and something for you, Mr. Roper. And you wouldn't mind tossing that in at the Smith's as you pass?" " Oh, no," said farmer Roper. "Give it to me. That's from Smith that's clerking it in New York, I reckon. Can't get any of 'em to stay and farm." u " Your son Job did," said the 'squire. " Oh, my son Job. He'd try the patience of his namesake," said Farmer Roper. " My sou Job, bah." Just at this moment the door of the store opened, and there entered at it a little woinau dressed in a chteap calioo, and wrapped in a thin and faded shawl. She looked timidly about the store, still more timidly at the heap of letters, aud then, in an appealing voice like that of a frightened child, said: " Mr. Fairjolin, is there any letter for me this time ?" The postmaster, who was a little deaf, had turned his head away and did not know that she had entered, and she came closer to tho counter and the light upon it before bIig spoke again. She was a fa?!ed little woman, and her face had signs of grief written npon it, but she was neither old nor ugly yet, and there was something in the damp curls clustering uuder tho faded calico hood, and in the little round, dimpled chin absolutely childlike even yet. "Is there a lettor for mo this time, Mr. Fairjolin ?" she Baid again; and this time the postmaster looked up. 44 No, there ain't; and you're a fool for taking such a walk to ask," said he, with rough kindness. 44 Wouldn't I have sent it if it had come, Mrs. Lester?" 44 Well, you see, I felt in a hurry to get it," said she. 44 You can't blame me for being in a hurry, it's so long." 44 That's true," said the postmaster. 44 Well, better luck next time. But why dou't you wait? Mr. McKibben will hike you over when he goes. He passes your corner." 44 Yes, wait, Mrs. Lester," cried Mr. McKibben, 44 I'll take ye and welcome." But she had answered: 44 Thank you. I don't mind walking," and was gone. 44 Keeps it up, don't she!" asked the postmaster. "It's asliamo,"said Mr. McKibben. " Jtlow many years is it now since Lester wont off?" " Ten," said the postmaster. " I know, for it was the day I came here. She was as pretty a woman as you'd want to see then, wasn't she ?" " Well, yes," said Mr. MoKibben. "Sailed in the Sphynx," said the postmaster. " And we all know that tho Sphynx went down in that voyage, all hands along with hor. The rest of the women put on widow's weeds, them that lost husbands?four in this town itself. They took what the Almighty sent and didn't rebel. Sho set up that her husband wasn't dead, and would oome back. She's kept it up ever since; comes for his letter regular, and ho was drowned along with all the rest, of eourse, ten y years ago. She must be thirty. Well, she's changed a good deal in that time." "Yes," said tho other man; "but there's my son Job wild over her yet. He's offered himself twice. He stands ready to offor himself again any day? ready to be a father to her boy, ami a good husband to her. He's better off than I be. His mother's father left him all he had. He's crazy as Job?crazy, I oall it. Plenty of pretty gals, and healthy, smart widows, and he sees no one but that pale, slim little thing that's just gone out into the mud; and she? why, of course, she's lost her senses, or she'd have him. Works like a slave to keep herself and child, lives in a rickety shanty waiting and waitiug for a drowned man to come back again. Why, every one knows Charlie Lester was drowned in the Sphynx. There wasn't a soul saved, not one. It was in the papers. Now,' the bottle was found with a letter in it, writ by some one before the ship sunk. And she's waitin'for him yet!" " Crazy on that point," said the postmaster. "Well, poor bouI, she'd only been married a week when the Sphynx sailed; that makes a difference." "Oh, yes," said the farmer. Then their parcels being ready, they went out to their wagons, and Mr. Fairjohn having stared into the rainy night awhile put up his shutters and went to bed. Meanwhile the woman plodded on through the mud. "Walking off her disappointment," she said to herself. It was one she should hnve been used to, and now the absurdity of it seemed to strike her for the first time in all these years. " They laugh at me," she muttered to herself. "I know they laugh at me. Perhaps I am mad; but they don't know what love is. Charlie wouldn't have left rae like that. If he had died he TPnill/I linvn nrimn mn n ? ? ? O*'1'" 1UV DUUIO DJ^U, illlVl, yet?yet, if be were alive, it would be stranger still. No, no; they are right? I am wrong. He must bo dead." And as though the news had just been whispered to her, she clasped lior hands to her forehead, gave a cry, and sank down on her knees in the road. She knelt there a few moments and then arose. In this interval the wind had blown the clouds from the Bky, and the moonlight lay white upon the path and lit her on her way to her poor home. There at the door sat a man, a strong, determined looking fellow, who arose as she approached and held out his hand. " Here you come," he said, "tired to death, worn out, still on that fruitless errand. Jessie Lester, can't you give up this nonsense and think of the living a little. Think of me, Jessie, for just half an hour." "I do think of you," she said. "I am very sorry you should be so good to me when I must seem so bad to you." Then she sat down on the porch and took her little hood off, and leaned her head wearily against the wall of the house; and the man arose and crossed over and sat down beside her. "Give it a softer resting place, Jessie," he said, " here on my heart." She looked out into the night, not at him, as she spoke: "Job," she said, " I begin to think you are right, that he went down in the Sphynx with the rest ten years ago. But what good would I do you ? What do you want to marry me for ?" The mau drew closer stilly as he answered : " Before you were married to Charles Lester I loved you. While you were a married woman I loved you. All these ten years since that vessel went down I've loved you. A man must have the woman he loves if he gives his soul for her." " What a horrible thought!" said sho. " His soul." "I should have said his life," said Job. " I don't want to shock you. But you don't know what it would bo to me to have you. And then I'd do everything for yonr boy." "Yes," she answered, "I know you would." There was a pause. Then she gave him her hand. "Job," she said very softly, " I shall preten^l nothing I don't feel, but I know I've been crazy all this time, and if you want me you may liavo me. It's very good of you to love me so." And thus it seems to have ended, that ten years' watching and waiting, and there was triumph in Job's eyes as he turned away and left her with his first kiss upon her brow. But at the end of the green lane he paused and looked back. "I told her the truth," he said, " when I said that when a man loved a woman as I love her, he must have her, if the price were his soul itself." And then he drew from his breast a lettei with a great red seal upon it, looked at it for a moment, and hid it away again. Married ? Yes, they were to be married. Every one at McKibben's Corners knew that now. Jessie Lester went no more to the post-office for her long-expected letter. Job was furnishing his house?La 1 furnished it, for on the morrow the wedding was to take plaoe. And it was night again. A month from that night, when she had come for the last time, as every one thought, through rain and mud, to make linr anrl 1 w fnnliuh nnorxr alio xxroa annoiKlo at last?very sensible. She had chosen the substance instead of the shadow. And now, as wo said, it was night, and a wetter one than the other?later, too, for Mr. Fairjohn had closod the store, and was compounding himself what ho called a "night.oap " of some fragrant liquor, warm water, lemons and sugar, and was supping it by the stove, when thers came upon his door a feeble knock, and when, being repeated, he heard it, tliero staggered in out of the rain a dripping figure?that of Jessie Lester, the bride who was to bo on the morrow. She wm trembling with cold, and as he led her to the tire she burst iuto n tlood of tears. "I'm frightened," she said. " Some one followed me all the way. I heard them." " You've no business to be out alone at night," said old Fairjohn, bluntly. "And what's the mntter ?" She looked up at him piteously. " I thought there would bo a letter," said she. " I dreamt there was one. I thought Charlie came to mo and said: ' Go to the office once more. I have written, I have written.' And I thought I saw a letter with a red seal." " So did I," muttered old Fairjohn to himself. And he weut to tho box where the letters wero kept and brought them to her in his hand. " Look for yourself," he said. " And now, Mrs. Lester, I'm an old man. Take my advice. Kemember what your duty will be after to-morrow, lleinember net to go crazy. " Ten years have gone since your busband left this place. If he's alive he's a rascal, and you are free of him by law; but we all know that every man on board I ftm wua rlrAn*nn<l o "? "" >7 "ft""" wifo to Job Roper and forget this folly. I'll take you home agaiu this time. Don't come again." She made no answer, but only tossed the letters over in her lap, aud said: " I seemed to know it had a red seal." And as she Bpoke, oldT^airjohn, glonoing at the door, saw a dark shadow there, saw it grow darker ; saw it enter, and starting up on his defense, if need be, recognized Job Roper. He was very pale, and took no notice of Fairjohu, but crossing the store, stood beside Jessie Lester. " You lovo that man best, even now," he said. "You'd rather have found a lotter from him than not, though tomorrow is our wedding day." She looked up into his face with a piteous glance. "I never lied to you," said she. " You know that." He grow whiter still. "I told you a man would lose his soul for such a love as mine," said ho. "Did you think those were idle words ?" Then he plunged his hand into his bosom, and the next instant a letter, with a red seal, lay in Jessie's lap. "I've made you happy, and now I'll go," he said. "Fairjohn, I stole that letter a month ago, off the counter yonder. I knew who wrote it at a glance;" and then the door closed bohind him and he was gone. But Jessie had torn open the letter and looked after him. And these were the words she read, old Fairjohn reading over her shoulder: " Aboard tiib Silver Star.?Jessie, darling, I don't know what makes me believe that I shall find you mine still, after all these years, but something does. *4 Five of us were cast on a desert island when the Sphynx went down. The two yet alive were taken off it yesterday in skins, with our beards to onr knees. Wo must go to England first? then home. Jessie, Jessie, if I do not find you as I left you I shall go mad. Your husbnnd, Charles Lhster." And so Jessie's lettor had come at last. Anil as John Fairjohn looked into her face he taw how angels looked in Paradise. And Job. Job was found drowned the next morning. Jessie never knew it, perhaps for she and her boy wero on their way to New York to meet the Silver Star when it made port. Some Fatherly Advice. " Is the father of this offspring here!" inquired his honor of the Detroit police "court, as a boy named William Barron, ! aged seventeen, came out. No answer. 4 4 Bub, you aro charged with loafing, being drunk and disturbing the peace." continued the court. " Bub " looked up indignantly. He had commenced to coax out a mustache, chewed tobacco, carried a pistol, and he had an idea that he was a full grown man. "I have no doubt of your guilt," continued his honor, " but I shall not send you up. They have n? nursing bottles up there?no cradles?no one to get up in the night and give you catnip tea. I know you have the idea that you are a man, and I presume your parents have lost control of you, but you are only a child in the eyes of the law. If you w;re a child of inino I should spank you and tie you into a high chair for an hour or two, but as you are not I shall send you back into the corridor and wait for your father to come and draw you home in a baby cart. Follow Bijah, bub, and if thero is a rattle-box or a whistle to be found around the building he will give you amusement.'* The Wits of the Press. " Gen. Sheridan was married in his spurs." This was a grave error on his part, for now he will go the rounds of the fuuny paragrapliists somewhat after this sort. The Boston Advertiser will remark that it was proper ho should have ins spurs at a bridal. The Chicago Tribune will probably contradict the rumor, assorting that it has not a bit of truth. The Detroit Free Preen will hope that the general will curb his tempor better than when he was a sir-single and not pommel any of his wife's relations. The Rochester Democrat will insist that those remarks are calculated to mako the groom feel saddley. But the Boston Poet will exclaim: What boots it i Why stirrup such a commotion. And then then the lesser wits will buckle into the work and use up the entire harness.?Hartford Courant. Flowers. The oouutry looks at no tiino m rich > nil beautiful, says tho New Y Times, tlian when in spring the trees in full leaf, with all the brilliancy their verdure ; the crops are frosh groen with rapid growth; the lands, i rule, are clean and well tended, as this time of year they of necessity a be; and in the meadows the grass clover are fast hastening to rnatiir Trees and shrubs are in blossom, i the whole aspect is one of life, liea and luxuriance. But you may visit v many farmhouses, very many cour residences of city men, without find a well-planned flower garden. Hero i there a farmer's wifo may be fouud t has a taste for such things. She hi few flower beds which she cherishes the front lawn. Approach them, i you must walk knee-deep in grass, o to see, perhaps, a lot of drawnpetunias, or a group of sickly pansie the bjttom of a grassy well. If have a soul a little above pansies, will apologize for the state of the la^ but tho grass is growing up for hay, tolls you, and the flowers meanw] have to get along as best they t Flowers do not pny, but grass is mor is the Hentiment which too much ] vails. But is it true that flowers do not p In tho first place, we deny altoget the doctrine that nothing pays wluc not convertible into dollars and cei A fow dollars will suffice to provide the material for a very excellent fio garden. A moderate amount of la will suffice to get such a garden i order, and to keep it so. Still, tl must be the expenditure of a li money and of some trouble, and besi that, there is the loss of probabl; couplo of dollars more in the desirabi of not turning the lawn into a hayfii On the other side of the account, confess that no dollars are to be plac hut there are profits of another ki The custom of measuring everything its nniiey value is a mistake. It is pressed upon the minds of boys i girls from their infancy, and there is telling how much evU springs froir The farmer who teaches his boys t the garden lawn must be turned i dollars, would do them an infinil greater service if he would ddvoto 1 lawn and its flower beds to the cultur his children's aesthetic faculties. T might possibly grow up more hon and they would certainly grow up rugged and uncouth. The city merchant who moves i the country every spring, and take sort of city house on a villago lot, r think that he is giving himself and family all the enjoyments of com life. He is to be there only a months, and he argues that to culth the little plot of ground around house would not pay. So ho is cout to let its nakedness be covered w weeds. Rut for the same reason t he adorns his parlors with works of and cultivates the elegancies of bo life in his city mansion, should he i till his garden with flowers. His v and children, his friends, and he h self, too, would reap the reward in influence which such luxuries, cli though they be, have upon the mi Farmers and permanent residents of country have no excuse whatever for enjoying and letting their fumilies on all the advantages which the coui affords. The few dollars they may s by their present plan are more than off by the loss which accrues to tl children in education?for mental tn ing is as much a part of education as mere acquisition of school learni And the sooner a desire to improve ev means for attaining that end becoi general, the sooner we shall have tained to the first step toward a liig standard of mental and moral culture A Long Willie on its Travels. The Danville (N. Y.) Advertiser b that on May 28, of this year, Mc George, of that village, a veteran of wur 01 1012, wuo lias pusseu uih eignu year, extracted from bis groin a bul which was buried there by the rifle ol Indian at the battle of Chippewa, ou 5th day of July, 1815. The bullet stri the inside of the right leg near the gr as the soldier was wheeling into line, i badly shattered the thigh bone. 1 bullet weighs a full half ounce and concave on ono side, showing the press of the bone which it struck. I somewhat blackened, but beneath a t coaling the lead is as pure anil bright it was over half a oentury ago. The li has shortened six inches or more, i below the thigh and reaching nearly the knee is thickly scarred, where pie of shattered bone, over fifty in all, fi time to time, worked out. Tho bu did not return by its original entrai but came to tho surface about four inc above, and was taken out by the vete himself without tho aid of instrumei The Book Agent Plague. When ho got to Webster City, traveler didn't understand at first i all the doors wore locked, the flrst-st shatters barred, and no sign of life sight, save a few frightened eyes look fearfully through tlio half turned sla the attic blinds, and an occasional < that peeped cautiously forth from un a porch to growl and divo back nf into obscurity ; but when he' turne corner and came suddenly upou female book agents trying to climb n lightning rod to an open window on second story, he took it all in, and v the speed and silence of unmanly ten fled for the woods. But they pursi him with hideous howls and talked 1 to death on the run, finishing him nj just a mile and three-quarters. Tii 1.87 J. After Thoughts. tore a writer says : How very often it liapork pons in conversation, as Bernard Barton are remarks in one of his letters to Crabbe, r ?( that the thing you might and would and and should have said occurs to vou just a l a little too late. He draws on his own ex1 at porience for the record of many a long lust ami animated discussion with a friend, and after which he called to mind some ity- pithy argument that would have smashaud ed his opponent's case, and which, Ith, affirms the gentle Quaker poet : " 1 ory should have been almost sure to have dry had at my fingers' ends had I been rrJK quietly argning the matter on paper in my own study." Cowper complains that rho when he wrote a letter to any but a fa13 a miliar friend, no sooner had lie dispatch- * 1 011 ed it than he was sure to recollect how I and much better he could have made it. nly Horace Walpole opens his epistle with ' out tha remark that more answers that are i 3 not made to letters immediately are like she good things which peoplo recollect they , sho might have said had they but thought of , ? them in time; that is, very insipid, and ] R)ie the apropos very probably forgotten. Little Henry Esmond, when pointed j *ni out by saucy Trix to my lord as "saving | iey> his prayers to mamma, could only look j are- very silly. If ho invented a half-dozen of speeches in reply, that was months ?yf afterward; "as it was, he had never a her word in answer." Mr. Thackeray's writ- ' h in : - rr i: -n 1??. -? ?> Lugo oner uivern muHimiious 01 me ' its. BamH kind. There is Mr. Batchelor, for ' instance, when impertinently quizzed 1 wer to his face by that supercilious Captain 1 bor Uaker. 4' ' Sir!' says I; ' sir ' was all I into J could say. The fact is, I could have iere replied with something remarkably neat ttle aucj cutting, which would have transfix^C8 ed the languid little jackanapes, * * Y. a but, you see, I only thought of my rebty partee some eight hours afterward, when old. i was lyiug in bed, and I am sorry to vre own that a great number of my best e(l'? bon mota have boen made in that way." n^* Dr. Holmes suggestively records on '.by the subject of mistakes and slips in im- writing, that he never finds them out until they are stereotyped, and then he 1 no thinks they rarely escape him. Southey 1 once assigned as the reason for his not hat reading for the bar that he was so easily u*? disconcerted, that the right answer to ?ly an argument never occurred to him im hat mediately. " I always find it at last, B ?f but it cornea too late ; a blockhead who bey speaks boldly can baffle me." A state of est, mind figured in a modern poem : less " Speech, only qnick to blueh its own delay, [n?0 Made me a fool, when fools had their own way, 18 R And awkward-silent when oonoeit was loud." nay his Charlotte Bronte relates how Mr. ltry Thackery met her at the door, at few the close of one of his readings, and rate frankly asked her what she thought of mo n; ami now, lining nis natvere sue was out entirely disposed to praise him, having ' ritli plenty of praise in her heart, "but, ' hat alas 1 no word on my lips. Who has j art, words at the right moment? I stammer- < cial ed out some lame expressions"?and 1 ilso doubtless hit ou some neat and pithy rife eulogium soon aftor his back was ] im- turned. I the The good dame in one of Mrs. Gas- I eap kell's-fictions is speaking for thousands 1 nd. when she says of the rector and his | the wife that they both talk so much as to | not knock one down, like ; and it'B not till ijoy they have gone, and one's a little at j itry peace, that one can think there are i ave things one might have said on one's j set own side of the question." And so j leir again John Sercolaske, introduced by ^ liu- riiilip van Artevelde as our " sagacious } the friend"?than whom a better counselor ng. need not be, if only he have full soope . ery beforehand to ponder and devise what lies to say; but " ask him on the sudden" ! at- a simple enough question, and? her "?Confounded wil! ho stand < Till livelier tongues from emptier heads have ] spoken; Then on the morrow to a tittle know What shquld have been his answer. ays ; ?ses the Lots of Piuc Logs. eth The Midland (Mich.) Independent , thus describes a jam in the Tittabawassee ; river: Can our readers outside the ; ? limits of the lumber region realize what ! 1 . it is to see a river, from twenty to forty 01" five rods across, filled, rammed, jammed "j full of pine logs for sixty miles? Yes, i . if they liave a mind to travel up this way . 18 just now and view the Tittabawassee, 1??" filled in just that way, with a heavy j .1S double and triple jam of noble pine logs, from Saginaw to above Edenville, a ' distance of about sixty miles by the 111 j course the stream pursues. Just enllJ deavor to imngine the stupendous thing, and then consider whether or not any |c,e8 work was done in the " dim old aisles" j!nj of the lumber forests during that cold 1 wiiiter. Sixty miles of logs! Sixty l.co' miles of logs, and probably, on an aver^ age, four million feet of lumber to the r8U mile, so the lumbermen inform us, or tits, approximately, 250,000,000 feet of pine 1 lumber in the whole jam 1 Can you take I all that in ? No, not yet. Well, let us 1 tho figure a little further: Four logs to the vhy thousand feet is about a fair average; j ory then in each log would reside two hun. in dred and fifty feot of lumber, or to make I ;ing 250,000,000 feet of lumber, it would ret of quire one million logs ! Can you comjog prehend that figure? One million pieoes. der Probably sixteen feet is about the averfain age length of these logs?it will not at ,1 a 1.' fi q t wiilnlv vflrv frnm Hint nn/1 than nix the distance those million pieces woulil ip a extend if placed end to end in one oonthe tinuous line would be 16,000,000 feet or ritli ft little above 3,000 miles, the distanoe ror, across the American continent from New tied York to San Francisco. If rawed bo tl a1, lim all the waste would be worked up, this i in would make almost a sufficient amount me, of inch lumber to build a sidewalk two feet wide (completely around the globe. Items of Interest. Albany. N. Y., now has doable the popalation ef the State of New York in 1771. Japanese law requires that when a person cuts down a tree he shall at onoo plant another. A pigeon roost has been discovered at Preston, Minn., nine miles in length and three in breadth. A metallic sort of marriage is one where the bride's tin is matched by the bridegroom's brass. English spelling match. Teacher: "Saloon." Scholar: "Hess?hay?hel ?ho?ho?hen?saloon." It is a thousand years this year sinoe the first naval victory of the English was gained by Alfred over the Danes. At Ventura petroleum has been " struck " so pure that adventurous per- , K)Q3 burn it in their lamps unrefined. The secretary of the treasury will soon iirect the payment of the final installment of $300,000 of the Farragut prize money. Phil. Sheridan's bride is nearly half a bead taller than he. But he counterbalances this advantage by keeping his bair cut short. It is a pleasant thing to see roses and lilies glowing upon a young lady's cheek, but a bad sight to see a man's faoe break out in blossoms. " That beet's all I" as the man said when ho sat down: to his first dinner in the new hQuse on moving day and found the supply Bhort. It is said that the wealthiest journalist in America is A. S. Aboil, of the Baltimore iS'un, whose property is estimated it from seven to ten million dollars. A man is said to be absent-minded when he thinks he has left his watch at borne, and takes it out of his pocket to see if he has time to ran home and get it. An "honest" Indiana man, when caught in the act of distilling, the other iay, explained that he was just making ? little for his sick wife, merely twenty gallons. A Newark girl hastened the departure of a lingering gentleman caller the other avening by remarking as she looked out of the window: " I think we shall have a beautiful sunrise." A Kansas City man lias written three affecting letters announcing his suicide, and is waiting for his father to send on sumo money ior iunerai expenses, wnicn will enable him to begin life anew. A prosecution has been begun against a Nuremburg paper for inadvertently inserting an advertisement apparently in cypher, which when read backwards, consisted of reflections on Prince Bismarck. A reprobate held an old shirt up by the neck before discarding it forever, but he wasn't mourning for the garment. Be only said ; "I wish I had all the Irinka again that have gone through that old neck band." An adventurous aeronaut in London lias expressed his intention of living for 1 week in a balloon. It will be captive, but thfi ropes which confine it are to be unusually strong, and his aerial home is to be moored at a good height above the earth. Qen. Sherman assured a reporter of the Chicago Time* that it was at the urgent personal solicitation or ueorge Bancroft, combined with that of the historian, Dr. John Draper of New York," that he allowed his recently-published memoirs to see the light. How sweet is perfect understanding between man and wife. He was to imoke cigars when he wanted them, but tie was to give her ten cents every time he indulged iu one. He kept his word, and 3very time she got fifty oentsahead, he'd borrow it and buy cigars. And so they were happy. A young lady died in New York, whose death is said to have been caused by having her hair bleached from blaok to a bright golden eolor, the poisonous bleaching material, it is supposed, affecting the brain. The safest way is to let nature dye the hair as she thinks best, and bleach it in her own way, when the proper time comes. All About Consumption. Consumption is not a disease of the lungs, but of the system, showing itself in the lungs. If yon fully oomprehend this you are ready for the common sense treatment. Avoiding all local treatment, by inhalation, all the panaceas, includ ing whisky and cod-liver oil (fashionable to-day, exploded to-morrow), employ those natural methods about which wise doctors have never differed. 1. Walk in all kinds of weather, two or three times a day. If too weak for this, begin with the saddle. 2. Hang by the. hands in rings suspended from the oeiling, six feet above the floor, swing backward and forward, sideways and in a circle. The effect upon the walls of the cheet is very remarkable. The writer has known such swinging to reduce the pulse sensibly in a week. In such exercise continue until slightly fatigued. 3. Wash the entire skin with tepid water and good natural soap every morning on returning from the first walk, and rub the skin to redness every night on going to bed, with sharp hair gloves. 4. Sleep much, retiring before nine, adding a nip in the middle of the day. Never forget that good ventilation daring the hours of sleep is vital in every case of diseased lungs. 5. Eat for breakfast and dinner oat meal, crackers, wheat, mutton, plain bread, potatoes. Use no try or other trash. Eat no snpper. & Cultivate jovial people. Laughter lathe most precious of all possible axercises for chronic affections