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THE TRIBUNE. | . ami VOL. II.?NO. 9. BEAUFORT, S. C., JANUARY 19. 1876. $1.50 PER ANNUM. The Elin and the Vine. Uphold my feeblo branches With thy strong arms, I pray Thus to the elm, her neighbor? The vine?was heard to say ; "Else, lying low and helpless, A weary lot is mino, Crawled o'er by every reptile, And browsed by hungry kino." The elm was moved to pity ; ? ' Then spoke the generous tree : " My hapless friend, come hither, Aud find support in mo." The kindly elm, receiving The graceful vine's embrace. Became the chosen covert In whioh the wild birds Bing; Became the love of shepherds, And glory of the Hpring. Oh, beautiful example For youthful minds to heed! The good wo do to others ouau never miss Mb meed ; The love of tliOBO whose sorrows We lighten nhall be oars, And o'er the path wo walk in That love shall scatter flowers. ? William Cullen Bryant. i. : ? gr My Mortification. A STORY FOB GIRLS. " I met the bride and groom, Mr. and Mrs. Evans, on Maiu street, girls 1 She looks nice, but isn't at all pretty. What could he hrtve seen in her to attract him? I can't understand it. Everybody thought ho would marry Gertie Graves, he was so attentive to her. I'm sure she loved him, and Gertie is vcrjr pretty and sweet." Quite | uub ?[ uream, nona tossed ner liat and gloves upon the piano, and throwing herself into a careless position on the lounge, awaited a reply. Aunt Sue, who was sewing at the window, smiled at BelJn's remark, and then concluded to answer hor query by a story. She thereforo said, quietly, as Bhe went on with her long seam : " I don't know, Bella, but you may have explained the reason of Dave Evans' choice in confessing your surprise at it. You say his bride is nice looking. Now, although Gertie Graves may be a very pretty andsweetgirb,asyou say, I am sure that adjective would never accurately describe her. ' Nico ' means neat, orderly and cleanly, and Gertie is neither cleanly nor neat." "Why, Aunt Sue, what do mean?" and Bella's brown eyes snapped, while the "gii-ls," her two sisters, looked at one another ov r their needles and smiled. They understood Aunt Sue, and thought she had taken a very good text and illustration, for the sermon they were sure she was going to preach to careless Bella. 1 " I will tell you a matter-of-fact story, ! Bella, that is literally true, and then perhaps you may judgo better what I mean. " When I was a young girl about your uge," she began, "I was one of 1 the most careless and untidy persons 1 you can imagine. It never mattered ' very much to me whether my bed was made, or whether my room was fit to be ' seen through the day or not. As for putting away or hanging up my dresses and clothing at night, that I never thought of doing. My tilings were ' tossed upon cliairs, or lay in little white heaps on the iloor, in any spot where I : last happened to step out of them. Ton j may imagine, therefore, that they never looked very smooth or fresh when I put j them on in the morning." As she spoke, aunt glanced at the 1 elaborately trimmed overskirt, and knifeplaited ruffles of the rumpled silk suit Bella had curled herself up in on the lounge. 44 Of course I liked to be well dressed when I went out, and I generally did look so, I believe, for I had nice clothes, and was not an altogether plain looking girl, although you may not think so now. But I never thought of 4 taking care* of my wardrobe, and I never oared to look neatly dressed at home. "Anything would do for breakfast, I used to say; and so in tne morning, my curls were usually crumpled together I and tucked under a net, my collar soiled, | my slippera buret at the sides or down at the heel, and my wrapper torn. Altogether I presented anything but a nice appearance in my breakfast toilet. "My careless habits worried mother very much, for she was one of the neatest and most orderly of women; but I was an only child, and was allowed to do very much as I preferred. Mother picked up, and mended, and fixed, and righted things for me with untiring patienoe. ' Well, the year that I was eighteen I went to the seaside to spend the summer months with a friend of mother's. She had daughters, about my age, and offered to chapcronc me that season, because mother could not accompany us. " I was eager to visit a wateriig place, of course, and that nothing mght bo wanting, a complete now wardroio was made for <ne. Every article was pretty and fashionable. Besides this, I lad a i beautiful dressing-case, furnished vith everything suitable for the toilet, a lage new Saratoga trunk, and many litle things that had been bought to male my room pretty and attractive. " The house at which we boarded wai i a large, old-fashioned building, witl I Siazzos running all round it on every i oor. Our rooms opened upon the first piazza, and were all oonnecfced by doors. There were a great many visitols that .< season, and as servants were scarc^ Mrs. j I 1 Hamilton, the lady iii whose care I had been placed, told our hostess that the young ladies of her party would attend to their own rooms. '' I was not pleased with this arrangement, for I hated tho caro of the room; but I did not trouble myself much about it. I had too many enjoyments outside, to allow this responsibility to worry me. '' Thore was a very pleasant and merry company at the old seasido houso that summer, and suoh boat rides, and baths, and drives, and parties as Ave hail, Avould have satisfied the most exacting pleasure seeker. Every day seemed only more joyous and happy than the last. To us, then?to me, at least?the whole wide wnrlrl wnn ^ v/ao? V./WWIVI wv r uot/, UUU tuu future as well as tlio present had all the glory of a golden ago. " Mrs. Hamilton's son, and two of liis college friends, Dr. Grayson and Prof. Blanc, came down to the shore towards tho last of the season. It was not long before one of these two became to mc the 'ono only* for whoso attentions I cared. " He was a young man from New England, and possessed all the best Puritan characteristics of his race. Thoroughly gentlemanly in his appearance, manners, and dress, talented, well educated, exquisite in his tastes almost to fastidiousness, he was, withal, a person of most excellent character, and being lino looking, besides, it is no wonder tlint I was attracted to him. He was several years my senior, but that only gave additional eclat to my conquest; for it was very soon noticed that among all the young ladies at the house, I was apparently the favorito of the elegant professor. " My wardrobe, as I have said, was new and fresh, and I was not so plain lookiug as you may suppose. My wrinkles were dimples in those days, and my eyes were as bright !is Bella's, and I did not wear glasses then. In short, 1 suppose I was quite a belle. * " But dresses, however pretty and fashionably made, will not stay pretty, and whole, and fresh, if not taken care of. More than this, a beautiful face is of little account when set iu a frame of tossed and dowdily-done-up hair. It was not many weeks before my careless habits told upon my appearance. Mrs. Hamilton and tho girls, or some friendly lady who took an interest in me, would now and tlion in company pin up my gathers, smooth out my ribbons, or pull off soino loose braid from my dress skirt. " Finally it became the habit of the Hamilton girls, and therefore a matter of courso, to look me all over before wc went to ride, or down to the parlors, lest I should lose some article of attire, and call a blush to their cheeks. " I remember that once I was very much mortified, wheu the professor Liand^l me a fearfully soiled collar that had come off my sack, and which I was obliged to acknowledge was miuo. Even I, thoughtless as I was, had hesitated about puttiugit on in the morning?and, girls, always remember that when a collar is in doubt, it is?dirty. "If I had only settled that point properly when I stood before my glass in the morning, I should not have been stung with shame when Miss Grayson exclaimed, as the professor asked for its owner, and held it towards her : " 'Please don't imagine I would wear a collar like that 1' "Our rooms, as I said, opened on a long piazza, which commanded a fine view of the sea. This piazza was consequently a favorite promenade. " You may imagine that my room was not in a tit condition to bo seen by the prcracnaders as they passed the long windows, when I tell you that sometimes for two or three days I did not make my bed. I would just throw the counterpane over the sheets, and 4 make it do.' "The contents of my dressing-case and trunk usually littered the mantel and chairs and floor. Of course I could have dropped my curtains, but generally my careleseless was too inveterato to remember oven that cheap expedient. " Mrs. Hamilton once kindly spoke to mo about my habits, but I received her counsel so ungraciously that she concluded to let me do as I pleased. 80 mv room continued in its condition of chaos ?ribbons, slippers, faded bouquets, Bbells, mosses, seaweed, and garments of all descriptions hopelessly jumbled together. "The rooms of the Hamilton girls joined mi no, ind their habits wore very neat and orderly. Naturally I found their apartments much pleasanter than my own room, and used to sit with them most of tho time when we were not with the other guests. The girls occasionally camo in to my den and picked up my dreary scatterings, and put me in order for Sunday. But Monday morning would tiud mo at 'odds and ends' again. Somehow my things wouldn't ' stay fixed, ' I used to say. "The weeks flow on golden wings after Prof. Blanc became my daily com panion; and when tho season drew near its close, my heart was mine no longer. He was tho ono in whom I found all that was noble, and good, uud great, and my thoughts and dreams ware all of him. As yet there had been only the interchange of pleasant thoughts, and those delightful attentions that seem to moan so much. Liko all modest maidens, I dreamed, and hoped, and waited for the words that would bo the fulfillment of what my heart desired. "Words came, but they were not tho words for which I waited, nor were they spoken to me. I overheard them, and they changed my whole life and character. "I was sitting in the summer house in the hotel grounds, alone, at dusk, one evening, where I had gone, hoping soon to do followed, when, coming slowly down tho walk, I heard the stops voices of men. I did not care for qompauionship of two, so I gatlierei folds of my dress back into the 001 hoping tho gentlemen would pass and not notico me. They paused, 1 > ever, among the shrubbery at the franco, and I, instead of making presence known, sat quite still ant teued. " ' I suppose I may congratulate too, then V "It was Dr. Grayson's voice 1 spoke. 1 " ' No, not in that way. I shall n marry a woman who offends all my i of neatness and nicety.' " The professor's voice uttered t words, and my heart fairly stood st "'But if you love her as yon i 1 urged the doctor. " ' It would not continue. 1 love has reason to blush for its idol, homage cannot last. Tho woman I m ; must be as neat as her heart is true, should every ono be, I take it, who < herself a lady.' " ' But, Bluuc, aro you not carr ' thic too far, and making it of more po-iauce than it deserves? Ther ?n ?i.: T ? i jltaoua ui tux lxxiu^d. X UUU t MUO 11 in this,' and the doctor's voice wi trifle impatient. " No,' returned the professor, ci ly. ' The point is this: natures like and mine are antagonistic?after a f ion. I am, by habit and nature, on] and particular. She is decidedly tin verse. Should we marry, after the few weeks of blinded love, my i would bo opQned to the truth, at should hate a slattern.' " ' You are harsh and cruel in the you argue. Don't you expect to si tice something? Don't you know always grow more particular the loi they remain unmarried ? All yc girls, 1 take it, aro careless; and if suits you in all ether ways, and you her, you aro foolish to givo up j thought of asking her to be your w 44 I am not harsh, and if there be cruelty in the matter, it is I who si it. I love her. She may not care me. But, Grayson, 1 couldn't manuntidy woman. 1 have too much rei to know what sort of order Miss Sel keeps in her room, and even what habits of personal neatness are. Hamilton girls' rooms join hers, character of the inmates ia stan therein. When you marry, you have a neat, orderly, well-kept ho ' hold. Miss Seldou's husband will But as I shall probably never see again after to-morrow, it matters n ing to me.' 44 And with theso words, the two tlemen passed ou. 44 4 What did 1 do ?' 44 Burning with mortification chagrin, I hastened into tho house np to my hateful room. How fore the truth of the words I had just liste to came to me when I beheld the confusion that reigned there. Tbi wept the bitterest tears my eyes ever shed. I saw it all now?how untidy, careless habits had utterly me the man I loved, and who cont'd he loved me. 44 He was going to town the next < I should never see him again; anil would forget me, no doubt, ami mi some pretty girl who would never oil his fastidious taste. 44 But in truth I did not feel the 1 indignation towards him. I did see anv harshness in his iiul?mpn me. If I had had that feeling, I hIh never, perhaps, have changed, as I '' But it was trno, what ho had sai< saw it. Two natures so thoroughly odds ' in their habits?one fastidiou a fault, the other careless in the s degree, could never live happily as and wife. There would be disturba every day, breeding discord and 1 dislike. The wedding music wo after a few years perhaps mouthsonly * sweet bells jangled out of tun "What became of him ?" asked Bi in an anxious voice. "Ho loft the seashore the next i without biddiug any one good-bye.' " And did you never see him ?" " Oh, yes," replied Aunt Sue, wi bright smile. " I married him years afterwards." " Unolo Ned ? Why, Aunt Sue ! that man ho ?" "Yes, that man was he. I will you how I came to please him, after I made nr? mv mind t.lmi Si ?r ?j "*** v""w "'B"" would never allow myself to be call* ' slattern ' again. I would strive gently to correct my untidy habits, no one's love thereafter lavished on should have cause to 4 blush for its again.' "I accomplished my purpose. It hard at first?as it will bo for every naturally careless?to learn to fold arrange, and dust, and smooth, and ] away. But I was determined I w< cure myself of my besetting fault, ai did. " Four vears afterward, when i uncle uud 1 met again, at the same sido house, in the same old arbor, camo to a perfect understanding, agreed wo would try life togotlior.'' "I suppose he took sly glance yonr boot lacings, examined the rim your collars and cuffs, und peeped your closets before he proposed, 1 evor," interrupted Bella, in sarci tones. 11 They all stood the scrutiny if he for there wasn't a neater or more or ly young lady on the shore than she was once the untidy Sue Seldon." " And do you believe that is the son .uave .Evans did not marry G? Graves f" '? I don't say so, but it may be. young man of fastidious tastes and habits ought always to consider question : ' Is the woman to who; and liavo given my heart one who will m the my homo confortablc and happy ?' 1 the "It is an important question of cl ner, uetcr to bo cousideied. Home com i on and happiness depend very much n aow- neatness, order, and system, and a ] i en- of them is sadly to be regretted i my wife." 1 lis- '1 Then a hnsband may be as caro and untidy as ho pleases? Pshai said Bella. " No, no," replied Aunt Sue. " I that certainly a most excellent thing to h a cleauly, orderly man at the head ever onR's house ; but the man don't m doas 'bo homo you see. He only procurei The woman makes the home, and n hese ucss i,s 'bo best of servants to her th< besides being a strong magnetic fc *ay,' '? attract her husband to his own I side. Then Bella got tip from the lounge, flii the her crushed ruffles, and mado [some arry iug little speech, about "nico" mei g0 general. But as Aunt Sue and the g call,} I knew that she had one in particula hrr mind, they hoped she wonld ying benefited by the bit of life history t im_ had been given her.? Youths' G o is panion. mch is n That Boy Bob. tlm- Bob is a boy, of course, and ho at hers ius' bke a boy ; just as you, reader ash- > ou ttre 'bat sex?have done bundi iorly ?i times io your boyhood days. But 0 re. the Danbury News tell the story : grsf Bob's mother is one of tlioso unhaj eyes* womeu who will be obeyed, and 1 id I "could not go skating that day. "W would Bob do ? The look iu liis e way 8rew harder, tlio lingers increased tl ^ri. pressure, and the lines in his face? men bard, cruel lines?became more marl; gcr Death would not come at the beck i mug boy with teur stained cheeks. But ] she would have his revenge without the love ?* the dread messenger. Had pnur mother loved him she could not h ,?fe > been so oruel. But he would test I , un" love now, however . great or littl aflej. might bo. His own heart was nu for with pain. "NVhy should not she snfl ? ftQ She should ! He brought his hauds ason father with sharp, nervous force, klon littered this determination aloud. jler could not defy her, but he could gri pj10 her, and ho wonld. He would laoei The her feelings, he would wring her lie mod **o would crush her soul. How ? will doesn't seem possible that a heart also- y?uuK could conceive such a cruel ] not. POBe* Dob determined to cat no i her Pcr ' Ho could hear the dishes rattl the dining-room, but every sound c strengthened him iu his determinate ?en_ Ho would go without food, and g over the agony in his conscience stric mother's face as ho faded slowly ai und before her eyes. How happy Bob and now?80 mahciously, so cruelly hap sililv Dretty soon there was a step in the li mod H wrtS m?ther's coming to call 1 ?li to supper. She opened the door. " f " Robert I" had . jjjy ' Gome to vonr supper. lost " ^ don't want no supper," ho said sscd a constrained voice. " Don't want any supper ?" day. " No," he mumbled. I ho you aiu't down to your sup arr,, before we get through the table will tend cleared off, and you shan't have a moi ful," was the somewhat unexpected east i,,imleruo^ ' I don't care," ho replied, in a sti t of v?ice. r: Timn *1,.. ,1..? ..1?a ?-1 t-> , [Wild -?>uvu V1JD uuuI >VU3 DUlily II1111 DOU alone again?a somewhat surprised I j disappointed Bob. To his strained In .'?iug every sound at the tablo was ls tinctly apparent. Then eaino the e: ame rattling of clearing away the things, man Rhortly after a silence. Poor Bob ! nces COV6red his hands over his head, final R?hbed himself to sleep. When 1 uld awoke tho darkness was iutonse, and ?be wfta chilled to tho marrow. Ho rai e ? ? his head and listened. Not a sound eila heard. He crept out of bed and foi ' his way to tho door. The hall wa (jav dark as the room. His parents had g ? * * to boil, and had never come near to him fade slowly away, and were n th a without doubt, sound asleep, with thought of littlo Bob. How long he ; slept ho could not tell, but while Was 8iePt a great transformation had g on. The aching void in his heart] tell heen transferred to his stoma Shivering and quaking, ho got out j his clothes and crept into bed, wit! ,tj a feeling that made him burrow his h dili- out ?f sight beneath the covers. ' and nex' morning ho did not have to me called to brenkfast, but at the table, idol (ier a Rolf-i??flicted protest of a mild tj he buried his grief under a pyramii wa8 buckwheat cakes, one UUJ* The Mexican Army. lack mid According to an official report dn nd I 1873, tho total force of tho Mexican ai was then 23,311, of which the infai >rour absorbed 14,902, tho cavalry 4,813, ^.,4. artillery 1,470, the engineer corps 1 ( wc i au*l f'he medical corps 148. There and a^HO an auxiliary corps of 526 men. addition to this national force the v ,h afc oub States had their militia averaged b 0f 10,000 per Stato. Tho activo fight into force of tho country now under arms low- estimated at 50,337. The minister istic war? Gen. Ignacio, is general-in-ch There are four gonerals of division, did; ] brigadier-generals, 310 colonels i tlor- ! lieutenant-colonels, and 1,359 officer? who ower rank. rea- The following verdict was reoen jrtie rendered by a coroner's jury at Midi town, Conn. : " Timothy Dono^ A came to his death by hanging at his o neat hands, while making ar innnr.e ? xjk this ment, without, it tending t > iestrry h m I self, but aoc doutaj " take How Indians Cure Meat. , "When her lord has killed a buffalo the woman s work begins. She has to skin it, the meat to secure, and all to P k pack upon ponies or mules, and carry to camp, where the meat must be cured. This is done by cutting it into thin less H^oe^8? aQd hanging it over poles in the ,hot sunshine, where it is soon dried thoroughly; then it is packed fresh in packt is n8cs about one hundred pounds each, and inclosed in a nico folding sack of 1 , thick buffalo skin, prepared especially , for tho purpose. This is not dressed . down thin after being fleshed, but well o tanned, and of the full thickness of tho " skiu; the hair side nicely ornamented >rce for tho outside of the Back. jre_ jLuis is cm out line a nnge envelope, so that the ends aud sides will fold over ted w^ft^evt'r i8 put in them, and secured by bit- ^ron6 buckskin i trings. By being thick l in ^ ret>un3 its form, and is very useful for rirls carryinS other things besides meat and 'T *n tallow. After the meat is taken care of the skin must be looked after. Those taken at this season of the year aremost'jtji ^ lir68flC(i *or lodges. They are first stnkod ou a smooth spot of ground, and water put upon them, when they are ready for fleshing. This consists in removing the flesh with an instrument ,^e(j made of a straight bar of iron, about a foot iu length, flattened at one end and lilod to an edge. This being grasped in . je? the hand, and a succession of quick blows given, the work slowly proceeds. p The skin is then dried, after which the " hair is removed in a dry state, and the skin reduced to the proper thickness by ,_t, B dressing down on the hair side. This is done with an instrument made by firmly the tying a flat piece of steel, filed to a ;e(j beveled edge at one end, and with the a corners rounded, to a largo prong of a g0k deer's horn. This is so trimmed, in connection with the body of the horn, as kis to form an elbow, and is used a little as av? a carpenter uses his adze. This work is ;hat usua^J done in the cool of the morning. a ik Tho brains of the animal, having been irab Pl'oPerb' taken care of for ilie purpose, are now soakqd and squeezed by the k()_ hand until reduced to a paste, and apaud pbed to both sides of the skin, which is jje afterward worked and rubbed until flexieTO ble. The preparation of robes is from rate ^o^r skins, and differs from tho foregoing only in being dressed down on the flesh side, so as to leave the wool mnd so hair upon the robe, and is more thorlur_ o uglily worked, and scoured by means mp of a sharp-gritted stone. e in !n)y Home of the Lepers. ion. lont What leprosy is no one who has not ken seen it can well imagine. In the Jam,.flv Betjeo Jejeeblioy Dhurrnmsala. a refuce was for the destitute and sick in Bombay, py# the Lancet, on the authority of the mil Time? of India, says that there are some lijm hundred and twenty lepers lodged at the present time, sharing its scanty ac commodatiou with an approximately equal Dumber of the poor, aged, and crippled. The lepers live in what are t in called chawls or cells, some six feet loug by five feet wide, and the institution is so full that often two lepers are crowded into one of them. They are without ,per furniture or even cooking utensils, but be each of them is allowed two pounds of xth- rice and three pice with which to pay re- for fuel to dress their food. They consistof men, women and children, thecliilfled dreu being the offspring of the men and women, some of them being born in the was Dhurrumsala itself, for no separatioh of and the sexes is attempted or, it seems, even oar- thought of. Unfortunate creatures with dis- " their limbs wasted till only the outline itra of the bones remain, or else swollen cut and of all form of limbs," sit or lie about as He they choose, without supervision or and medical carc, except from one charitable Bob physician whose name is withheld, at his ho own request seemingly. They are visited sod by no friends and by no minister of any was religion. They are abandoned, says the and Times of India, of God and man, and 3 as were it not that the Dhurrumsala gives one them the half of a six-foot cell in which see to lie, and a handful of rice with which ow, to sustain life, they would die in their no sores along our streets and in our cornhad pounds. Only those who aro very much ho afflicted aro admitted into the refuge, one Thoso who are not in so advanced a state had of disease aro scut away to beg in the ich. publio highways and byways until they of are sick enough to be taken into the ii a Dhurrumsala. ead At an English Execnth.n. un- Referring to bungling executions, a pe, correspondent tells us of the case of 1 of Bonsfield, the wife murderer, who was hanged in London some years since. He not only succeeded in getting his hands and arms loose, but ootually climbed to the top of the scaffold. Taking off his ited klack cap ho then commenced to unfasten my himself so that ho could jump down ,try among the crowd; but old Calcraft, with 1 the the agility of a monkey, went after him, . W59, pulled the black cap over his eyes again, , was grabbed him by the legs, and down they | Iu went, Calcraft sticking 011 liko grim ttfj. death, amid groans, cat calls, yells, and hisses for half an hoar, till Bonsford was ;ijj? dead. When Calcraft mado his appear| ance to cut down the body he was re0f ceivod with a dreadful storm of shrieks ief_ aud abuse. Ho politely bowed to the ten audience three times and then cut down tho body and disappeared. The Danbnry iSTctra has found out how marvelously careful a man is with a tly now garment. When he comes in he is lie- a( great pains to hang it on a hook en- ' ran tirely by itself, and woe to any one who iwn hangs another article over it. At the nri- . end . " a week the garment is being iin- j picked up from the floor or chairs forty I times a day, his wife says. Items of Interest, " Work or walk" is Ohio's greeting to tramps. "Brevity is the soul of wit," said the* criminal to the judge ; "your sentenoei. are too long." Near Presoott, Arizona, in a locality known as Happy - Valley, is a military station with the anomalous designation of Fort Misery. Kansas, the past fall, lost over a million dollars' worth of property by prairie flros. One-tenth of that sum' wonld have plowed and protected the Land. The French have adopted i-nothor English word into their vocabulary. " Skating rink " is now to be seen used in the Paris newspapers side by aide with "meetin ," "oomfortable," "club," and " home." There is said to be a man at Harper's Ferry whose name is Samuel T. S. J. B. V. M. B. Case. It is strauge that a fellow will mutilate the alphabet iu that way when nobody hinders him froui taking the wholo of it. Frederick. Hunt, of Vermont, celebrated his Thanksgiving by marr/iug ? girl thirteen years old. His own :i??e is sixty, and the number of his children by his other two wires exactly c -iucide with the number of his bride's ye ars. A Virginia girl took aim and pulled the trigger of her father's double-barreled shbt gun. "Her truant lover felL She slipped quietly into the house, stated tlfe f^et and was composedly eating her dinner when arrested. She is now in jail awaiting the result of the young man's injuries. ' "Sieepfh', Tonald?" said a Highlander to a drowsy acquaintance, who was ruminating ou the grass in a horizontal position. " No Tnncau," was the ready answer. *' Then, Tonald, would you lend me ten shilling f" was the next question. "Ough,.'oughl" was the response, with a heavy snore; " I'm sleep- . in' noo, Tun can, my lad." Seven years ago at Tilt Oove, a little fishing hamlet, near St. John, Newfoundland, the first aisoovery of copper was made. Since that time the mine has been worked with success by two capitalists, and now the dozen huts have hecome a village of twelve hundred souls, and the mine itself is valued at from $800,000 to $1,000,000, gold. Thoughts for Saturday NLSht. Childhood is the deep of reasoo. A good conscience is a continual Christmas. Most men are afraid of a bad name, bat few fear their consciences. What we call conscience is in many instances only a wholesome fear of the constable. There is no outward sign of courtesy that does-not rest on deep moral foundation. Without content we shall find it almost as difficult to please others as ourselves. A good word is an easy obligation; bnt not to speak ill requires only our silenoe, which costs us nothing: We must be as courteous to a man as to a picture, which we ore willing to give tbe advantage of a good light. Covetous men need money least, yet they most affect it; but prodigals, who need it most, have the least regard for it. To neglect, at any time, preparation for death, is to sleep on our post at a siege; to omit it-in old age is to sleep at an attack. Death is so genuine a fact that it excludes falsehood, or betrays its emptiness; it is a touchstone that proves the gold and dishonors the baser metal. We 'look at death through the cheapglazed windows of the flesh, and believe mm to do toe monster which the flawed and cracked glass represents him to be. The greatest man is he who chooses right with the most invincible resolution; who resists the sorest temptation from within and without; who bears the heaviest- burdens cheerfully; who is calmest in storms and most fearless under menaces and frowns; whose relianoe on truth, on virtue and on God is most unfaltering. Teaching Children Courage. Courage is a vital elementof Christian chivalry. Without it, indeed, neither truth nor fidelity to promise can be hoped for. The coward is sure to lie when truth means punishment, and sure to retreat from his engagements when they involve periL We need valiant souls that have learned to endure and scorn pain, and to face danger fearlessly and promptly when duty requires. Some Krents evade this vital part of training glosses And deception. A mother who has taken her boy to the dentist's to get a tooth out will often say, if he is shrinking: "Sit still, my boy, it won't hurt you." Now she knows it will hurt him, bnt thinks if she can only get him by this devioe to sit still and let the dentist get hold of the teeth, then his discovery of the pain will not hinder its extraction. This is a double mistake. It destroys her boy's oonfldenoe in her ; for he detects her in a lie ; and though it gets the boy this time to sit still, it is under the delusion that there is to be no pain, whereas be should be taught to faoe the pafeStftto acorn it. This makes Che diffef?iQS between the oowards and heroes. A regiment of poltroons oould march up to a battery as cheerfully as a regiment of heroes, if they thought there was no enemy at the studs. The rtiffcrenoe is that heroes know the dan.