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K J The Beaufort Tribune. VOL. II.?NO. 32. BEAUFORT, S. JUNE 28. 187(5. $1.50 PER ANNUM. The Man o' Airlie. Oil, there al.ovo, yon heather hill, Where foo fa' conies bnt rarely. There in a housi they point out stil:, Where ds'clt the man o' Airlie. Ho wore a coat o' hodden gray, His hand was hard wi' labor; But still ho had a hamely way O' staiulin' by his neighbor. His bnrly laugh made men rejoice, His words the neighbors guided ; But little bairnies loved his voice And in his smile confided ; The word, to-day, that left his lip, Became a deed to-morrow. Hont man, the friendship o' his grip Would lift the heart o' sorrow. He was na' loud, he was na' proud, He lacked in loarnin' sairly, And yet yo'd pick him frao a crowd, The honest man o' Airlie. Ilia wealth, it was na" in hie land, It waa na' in the city ; A mint o' honor was bis hand, His heart a mine o' pity. He's dead and gane, this prince o' Fife, Mute is his burly laughter ; Cut ah ! the nmsio o' his life That bides wi' us lang after. His memory livop, the man may die, That lingers bright and loviu', Just like a star lost frae the sky Whoso ray survives bis ruin. CHORUS. Ob, up an I down an' roun an' roun, And o'or the 'hale world fairly, Yo might hae searched, but never foun Auithor man o' Airlie. DARK DAYS. There was a time when, in our trade, _ there came a regular storm?not a rainy day or two, but a regular downpour? aud from half-dozens being discharged on Saturdays, it came to tens aud twenties; uud every time I went up to the offieo it was all iu a shiver-like lest I should be one of those who were to he struck off. You see, it was a particular time just then, for, after twelve months of anxiety, I had won a race that I had been ruuuing with one Dick Green, an old fellow workman of mine. You see, we had beeu both struck at the same time and s.imo place, aud, to speak plaiuly, trying to win tho same heart. Somehow?I don't know how it was, unless she could read how true I felt toward her?Lizzie gave her hand to mo; and at 1 the time I am talking about she'd beeu my busy little wife for six months. Dick Green looked rather queer at u<u >yii?:u ut) uauie 10 Know tnat we were 1 mai ried, and for a fortnight he wouldn't 1 speak. But that wasn't my fault, for I was that happy I could have made friends with tho worst enemy I'd over had in my life. 1 But being, as I said, so happy, I didn't ' like to seo Dick so down in the mouth. ' I was sorry for him, too; for, poor fellow, it was very hard for him to lose such a prize as I'd won. 14 Lizzie," I says, one morning when we were at breakfast, 44 Dick Green seems awfully cut up about?you know what; he don't speak now. What do you say to our trying to make it up ?" 44 Lizzie turns very red, and looked a bit confused, ns she says: 44 How can 1 we makoitup?" 44 Well, I was thinking, suppose we ask him up to dinner on Sunday, and then wo could sit and smoke our pipes after, and talk of old times ; but I don't like being bad friends with an old mato." 441 don't think I'd do that, Harry," she says ; and her face seemed to be troubled like. 44 Nonsense," I says, in my stupid, thick headed way. 44 It's all right, little one ; and let bygones be bygones. I shan't think auything about the past." And I laughed and joked her, and asked if she thought I should be jealous; when her face grew more troubled, and she said it was a subject that should not be joked about. Next day I speaks to Dick, and though ho was a bit rough, I wouldn't take any notice of it; and whon at last I asked him to come aud have a bit of dinner with us, and said thut Lizzie would be glad if he'd come, and held out my hand, he turned sharp round, looked me full in the face for a few moments, and then said ho would come. Sunday cuuie, uud so uiu Dick Qreeu ; but somehow that diuner did not como off as nicely as I should have liked. I almost felt cross, for Lizzie was not as I should liavo liked her to be ; but when we sat smoking our pipes at the window, gazing out at tlio glorious prospect, things seemed to go a little more smoothly. That did wuat I wanted, though. Dick grew quite irienuiy, tuougu not in the open way that I should have likod?but I set that down to my own disagreeable way of lookiug at things ; and last of all, I got to be sorry that I had ever tried to be friends again, for ho took to comiug much more often than I wished ; and I can't say as I liked findiug him thero twice when I went homo. The last time, I couldn't help it, I spoke to Lizzie about it when he'd gone, and she laid her little hand on my shoulder, and said she'd much rather I'd ask him not to come ; when I kissed her, and called myself a disagreeable brnto for feeling as I'd done. I might have put a stop to Dick's coming, or I might not?I can't say; but it was all put asido by the changes going on at the works, for the very next f week Dick Green was amongst the batch discharged, and that onded it?for the timo. I said that I was all in trouble about the changes going on and trembling lesl I should bo one of tho next ; for, you see, instead of being well forward, I wa* a little behind. Not that you must think I was careless, for that wasn't the case. It was the getting married had made mo short, for wo had been buying furniture, and pots, and pans, and kettles every Saturday night, till I used to wonder how big a van it would take ii ever we had to move. I never told Lizzie a word of what was going on, for I says to myself, what's the use of making her miserable? But at last all that 1 had expocted came?I was put off, one of the very last, too ; and on the Monday morning, when, like from regular custom, I walked around to the works, 1 saw the gates closed, and the whole place one great, black, dreary desert. There was no hissing of steam, no whirling of wheels, nothing but silence, without so much as a puQ of smoke from the great furnace shafts. Tho fires were out?the works were closed 1 I hadn't told Lizzie?I never felt the heart?all Saturday night and Sunday, and I left her that morning singing as blitho as a lark. So I hung about till breakfast time, and then went back to broak it to her, and break it I did. " Lord bless you, there's Lothing like a good wife to give a man strength," I says?"doubles him directly." And then we laid our heads together to tight the world; and after a bit of talk wc sottled that it would be a pity to break up our little home, and though we were halt heart-broken at having to separate, there 6eemed to be nothing else for it. You see, wo had a bit of credit where wo wore, and Miss Chadds, our landlady, was easy, and it seemed like taking Lizzie away from home and friends; so wo settled it that she should stay, and I was to go on tramp down to the big towns northward, and try and get work. It never rains but it pours, men say, and now it was as if tho big, black cloud had come with a vengeance, and I shivered as I etepped out into our court 011 as black and dreary a morning as ever made a man miserable. We'd got it ovor?that parting; for I wouldn't let her come out upon the stairs where the other lodgera oculd see her, aud my head seemed tilled with the picture of her sitting of a heap-like upon the floor, and I was obliged, when I tore myself away, to take her poor arms from around my neck and run away. If there's auy one thing that will take the respect out of a man who is willing, it is tramping from town to town in search of work. And, after all, perhaps no woniler, for one'gets into a queer, low way, especially if a man's situated as I Wiis, tremhliug for every penny I spent, as I thought of her sitting and waiting at home for the good news that, as weeks passed on, I could not send. Home ! There, that word, and the thoughts of what was there, kept me up at many a despairing time, when, after thirty, forty, or fifty miles' tramp, I came, almost penniless, to a town to get the same old answer. It was the old tale?no work; and at Last, half mad with disappointment, I turned my steps homeward. I had not had the heart to write for weeks, aud at times I hadn't had even the penny to pay for the stamp, because I wanted it for bread. >1 had not heard from Lizzie, either, for[I had been going about at random; here, to-day, there, tomorrow?anywhero where I thought there might be work. It was a wenrv tramp that, but at last I got to London one evening, and then I waited until it grew later, because?in my dirty, ragged stato?I was ashamed to be seen. It was nine o'clock when I slipped down our court, and glanced up at the window?to see it dark. "Poor lass," I says, "sitting in the dark to save candle." There was nothing to hinder me, so 1 slipped up stairs?ours was the firs! floor front?and tried the door?fast. "Gone ont marketing," I says. And, worn out, I sat down and leaned my cheek up against the panel, and waited for a good hour, when I heard steps behind me, and an up stairs lodger came down, candle in hand. . "The missus gone out, Mrs. Winkus?' I says. When she gave a start, a half scream, aud ran back up stairs. " Don't know me," I says to myself, bitterly; and then in a weary, dull s rf of way, 1 got thinking that Lizzie would know me fast enough, changed as ] was; and then I began to be troubled a! I. V 1- - > a?X UC1 UUb uuxuiu^ Utivii, UUU llTHC out thought, and then another, came into my mind?terrible thoughts at last, about what women had been driven to whc hail been left penniless in London. ] had left her money, and she had thing* to sell; bat I had been long away; and of iate I had not written, and her letters, perhaps, that she had sent to me had remained unanswered. Had she, too, turned despairing ? I was weak aud low, and a cloud seemed to swim before my eyes. I grew dizzy, and a cold sweat came out on my forehead as I staggered down to the back parlor, knocked, and some one said "come in 1" and I stood before Mrs. Chadds, our landlady, who set up quite a shriek as she saw me. "It's only me?Harry Jones?Mrs, Chadds," I says, huskily. "I've come back. Whero's Lizzy ? "AhI Harry?ah! My poor, tleai lad 1" sho says; and the tears wore run ning down her cheeks. " Wh?what??what is it?" I says, catching at my throat, for I felt as if ] was choking. " Oh 1 oh! my poor soul?my pool lad !" she sobbeid again. "Lizzie! whero's Lizzie?" I gasped ; and I bold her arm so tightly that she l winced. i " Ah, my poor lad?she's a bad?bad, ; false creature, and "? s "It's a lie?a lio?a false lie!" I I roared, and in my madness I shook her ; till she dropped sobbing on her knees at my feet. i "It's true?it's true," she groanod; ' she went off a week ago. Ho came one night in a hurry, and, ten minutes i after, with her Bhawl and bonnet m, she i hurried with liitu out of the house, and ; I haveu't seen her since." "Who?who was it?" I gasped out, ; for two hands seemed pressing my throat, aud my heart was as if on fire. "Dick Green!" That name seomed liko lightning on my braiu, for there was, as it were, a bright flash aud then a crash, as if something had struck me, and then all was ' darknoss; till in a 6trange, misty way I found myself trying to get up, while i Mrs. Ckadds was bathing my faco with water. , "Lie still, my poor soul," she said, sobbing. " Here, drink this;" but I put it away, and, staggering to my feet, I got to the door, waved her off and made I my way into the street. For there was like a voice busy in my , brain, over whispering: "Fetch her back?fetch her back !" And I meant to save her from him, with God's help, that she might go home to her father. If I could liavo met Dick Greeu then I would nave strangled him, and crushed | my foot down upon his head as I would upon Bomo foul snake that had bitten me; while, as for her?there was only one thought, and that was for my past love, and of what she was?I would not have hurt a hair of her head, for it was his doing?and mine. " I ought never to have left her," I , said always. And I said it for six ; weary months, as I went from place to place, workiug, and trying to find her, but in vain. I went all over England in those days; for I knew that I should hear of Dick Green somewhere; and ; thou?the blood used to come into my eyes as I thought of him, and my teeth would get firmly set; but, for all my searching, wo never met. . I look but little count of time in those [ days; but it must have been after seven months that ouo night I stood again in our court, aud thought I'd ask Mrs. 1 Chadds if she had any news, and what 1 she had done about the furpitnre; for she was as honest as the day. I felt very low; for, as I glanced up, there was a 1 light in what used to be my window, and I thought of some happy couple living there as I had lived in the days that seemed to be years and years ago." " Any uews for me, Mrs. Chadds?" I says, as I went in softly to her room; wheu, eld as she was, she leaped at me, and threw her arms round me, holding mo tightly as she shrieks out: "Lizzie?Lizzie! He's come at lost!" A great trembling came over me, and that dizziness again, as I heard a rush on the stairs?a step I knew?and the next moment the door was dashed open; nn.l (hi T ofr?Aii OQ o ^' MMV* *?' A uwuvi wiu uo ( atvjuoj uua ui Lizzie's arms was around my neck, and with tho other she was forcing something to my breast?something soft, and round, and tender; and as I looked down, two little blue, wondering eyes stared np into mine, and a baby smiled in my face. I groaned as I tried to push her away; but no ! as Mrs. Ghadds took tho baby, another arm was around my neck, a pair of lips were covering mine with kisses, and 1 inching, sobbing, crying, all at once, Lizzie whispered: 44 Harry?Harry, darling, how could [ you think it of me ! My own?own husband. He told me you were lying inI jured at a factory where you worked, . and that you had sent him to fetch me to see yon before you were taken to the ( hospital; and I believed him, and went, till 1 found out by his manner that ho wa3 a liar aud cheat. And oh 1 Harry? , Harry darling, these long?long, many months!" 8ho broke from me then, before I ^ could st iv her, for tho Rcales had fallen j from my eyes; but she was back directly, I with her little one, so proud aud motli. erly; aud in that one moment all tho past was forgotten, and I was down on > my knees, with my face buried in her 1 a v* nrtrincr xrna T o rvrnof oiw - -f> >-V"5 J 6,v""t mi foot fellow, crying like a child. I How she must liavo worked, poor little thing, to keep home together; but | she had done it?God bless her and for' give me for my doubts ! ttnliug u?jr und ' night with her needle. The neighbors ' hud helped her through her trying time, II when the little one was born. But ' thero, the black cloud came, and it [ passed away; for, upon presenting ray' self the next day at the old factory, I ! was took ou again directly, for 1 foui.d all things in full work; but it was after ' twolvo months' stoppage. We let the past rest, Lizzio and I, never even thinking of it; though it is hard work sometimes, when I am toss' ing that babe up and down, to keep from brooding on the days when he was 1 born. IjiBBitAii.?The late Isaac 8. Spaliling, | of Nashua, New Hampshire, was in a ( benevolent mood when he bequeathed to the towns of New Ipswich, Walton, and Amherst 810,000 each; New Htmpshire Insano Asylum, 810,000; Dart' month College, 85,000; Appleton Academy at New Ipswich, 85,000; First Con. gregational church at Nashua, 85.000, and 81.000 to tlio Sunday-school of the samo church. I In Connecticut, last year, there were 466 divorces to 5,385 marriages, with an average of about 360 divorces a year for the last fifteen years, the prevailing ; causo being " general misconduot." JONES VS. BROWN. How Jonen Saved his Credit nt Home by . illnUinx Cood Uno ol Somebody Elite's Flx'ttlux Ability. The Vioksburg (Miss.) Iferald is re- ' sponsible for the following story : Mrs. i Jones was standing in lior back yard ] feeding the chickens, when Stonewall i Jackson came running in, crying as i though his heart would break, and told her that Bill Brown had slapped him \ for nothing. Mrs. Jones never said a t word; but sho grit her teeth hard, and . went into tho house to cut cabbage, and i chopped it so fine, thinking it was Bill ] Brown's head, tli it you might have < sifted it through a cobweb. While i Jones sat eating his dinner that eveu- < ing, Mrs. Jones told him. of the out- i rnge that had been committed, and asked 1 him whnt he was going to do about it ? ( Jones pondered. Bill Brown was fully 1 twenty-one years old, a shining light in i the tire department, pitcher in a base i ball club, and had the general reputa- 1 tion among experts of being " a good I man." After considering these things ' carefully, Jones came to the conclusion ] that the best course to pursue was "to < treat Brown with silent contempt," and i so he told his wife, adding, by way of 1 parenthesis, " ipy dear, such cattle are i beneath our notice." i 44 All riirlif ATr .Tmina " cowl M?*a T i "if you're not man enough to protect 1 your family, thank God ! I've got n t brother," and she swept from the room ^ with a look that Jones knew cnly too ] well. Ho had seen that same look on < his wife's face onco before, when he 1 brought a friend home to dinner on wash- t ing day, and he knew it meant war. ( There was no help for it; it flashes upon ] Jones with the swiftness of lightning ; ] there would be no peace in the Jones f family until the insult of the morning had been wiped out. t That night the boys wero all sitting j in a neighboring beer saloon, and its t genial proprietor was telling them what i he would do if he got the nomination 1 for alderman. This gentleman, whom i we will call Mike, because that was not ] his name, was an ex-prize fighter, could ? barely write his name, and was in many t other respects especially qualified for an i alderman. He kept good beer and i offered it with that lavish liberality and 1 recklossness of expenditure for which < Yicksburg candidates are famous. Jones < camo in, took his pro rata of beer, and \ sat himself down to meditate upon the < Brown affair. At last a happy idea ] seemed to striko him; he called for an- . other " shoo-fly," and rubbed his hands j and slapped his knees in gleeful autici- j notmn 1 rwviwu' At last ho said to Mike, with a careless air : " Mike, is Bill Brown one of your supporters?" "You can just bet ybur munkeymuck on that," says Mike, "there's a boy I do stand solid with." "That's strange," said Jones. " What's strange ?" said Mike, with that uneasy, suspicious air so common among candidates. "Oh, nothing," said Jones, mysteriously; " I don't think I ought to tell." "Jones," said Mike, solemnly, "if you're a friend of mine you'll tell." " Well, I will," said Jones, " but you must keep it confidential." "All right; go ahead," said Miko, anxiously. "Well," said Jones, "I just came from the Centennial barroom, and heard Brown say that you didn't know your head from a shotgun; that he caught you, one day, reading a newspaper upside down; that he'd sooner vote for the lowest down plantation boy in the ward than vote for you, and that if you were elected, city scrip would go down to five cents on the dollar, and taxes go up so high you couldn't reach them with a balloor." Miko put on his hatand coat and made a bee line for the Centennial barroom. Jones went home and sat down on the front gallery, smoking his cigar with that peace or mind which only one can ] know whoso bosom is disbanded with i tho proud consciousness of having done t a good action.. i About a half an hour afterward he said ! to his wifo, who was sitting inside: I "Mrs. J., 1 don't think Bill Brown I will hit our boy auy more." "Why?" " Come and see." ] Mrs. .Tones stepped to the window and looked out. They were briuging Brown home on a shutter, with both of his eyes bunged up, and his nose dripping blood at every pore. Mrs. Jones turned to her husband and said: " Darling, can you forgivo mo ?" Jones drew himseli up haughtily and replied with withering sarcasm: "Mrs. Jones, I don't think I'm able to protect this family; you had better send for your brother." Mrs. J. was crushed. How to Treat Children. To gain obedience, yon must first set yourself to deserve it. Whatever yon | jimunno jour niun lint', uowuvur email tho thing seems to you, and whatever I trouble it costs you, perform it. Never let tho doubt once enter that innocent ] mind that yon say what you do not * mean, or will not act up to what you I say. Mako as few prohibitory laws as you possibly can, but, once made, keep i thorn. In what is grauted as in what 1 is denied, compel yourself, however l weary or worried or impatient, to ad- l minister always oven-lianded justice, i This is a systebi much more likely to secure your child's real affection than all tho petting and humoring so generally indulged in, to give pleasure or savo trouble, not to your little ones, but to yourself. ENDURANCE OF MUSTANGS. John C. Fremont'* (.rent Ride of Eight Hundred .Mile* In Eight l)n;i. The mustang race in Now York, in which a rider proposed to ride 305 miles | in fifteen hours, and failed from exhaustion, recalls the great ride of Fremont in 1847. Tho story of this ride is retold as follows : It was at daybreak on the morning of the twenty-second of March, 1847, that the party set out for La Oindad do Los Angeles (the City of the Angels), in the southern part of Upper California, to proceed in the shortest timo to Monterey, in tho Pacific coast, distant full 400 miles. Tho way is over a mountainous jountiy, much of it uninhabited, with no other road than a track aud many deilea to pnss, particularly tho maritime ' iefile of El ltincon or Punto Qaido, J Ifteen miles in extent, made by the falling of a precipitous mountain into the ?ea, aud which oan only be passed when ' he ti le is out and the sea calm, and then in many places through the waves. 1 The towns of Santa Barbara and San 1 Luis Obispo, and occasional ranches, are ; lie principal inhabited places on the ; route. Each of the party had three lorses?nine in all?to take their turns 1 mder the saddle. The six loose horses j ran ahead, without bridlo or halter, and equired some attention to keep them to ;lio track. When wanted for a change, ?ay at the distance of twenty miles, they vero caught by a lasso, thrown either by i Don Jesus or tho servant Jacob. None ! >f tno horses wore shod, that being uncnown to the Californians. The nsnal ] ?ait was a sweeping gallop. The first ( lay they ran 125 miles, passing the San Fernando mountain, the defile of the Riucon and several other mountains, and ] ilept at the hospitable rancho of Don rhomas Robberis, beyond the town of Santa Barbara. The only fatigue com- 1 rlained of in this day's ride was in Tacob's right arm, made tired by tlirowug tho lasso, and using it as a whip to 1 coop the loose horses to the track. The < loxt day they made another 125 miles, massing tho formidable mountain of , Santa Barbara, and couuting upon it the , ikeletons of some fifty horses, part of rear double that number which perished < n the crossing of that terrible mountain ; jv tho California battalion, on Christmas lav, 1816, amid a raging tempest, and a leluge of rain and cold, more killing than that of the Sierra Nevada, the day of severest suffering, says Fremont and his men, that they have ever passed. At sunset the party stopped to sup with the friendly Captain Dana, and at nine 1 it night Sau Luis Obispo was reached. Eero tho mustangs from Los Angeles ivore loft, and eight others taken in their dace, and a Spanish boy added to the party to assist in managing the loose lorsos. , Proceeding at the usual gait till eight o'clock at night, and having made some , seventy miles, Don Jesus became fa- . agued and proposed a halt for a few ; rours. It was in tho valley of the Sainas and tho haunt of marauding In- , j?: j*- - iiuim. x-ui uuriug iiieir reposes ( llie party turned off the track, issued :hrough a canyon into the thick wood ind laid down, the horses being put to ' grass at a short distance, with the Spanish boy in the saddle to watch. 3!eep, when commenced, was too sweet ; to bo easily given up, and it was halfway between midnight and day when the sleepers were aroused by an estampedo among the horses and the calls of the boy. The cause of the alarm was soon found?not Indians, but white bears, this valley being their great reiort and the place where Colonel Fremont and tliirty-flvo of his men ensountered some hundreds of them the summer before, killing thirty upon the ground. The character of these bears is woll ' known and the bravest hunters do not like to meet them without the advan cage 01 mimoers. \jn discovering tne 1 snemy, Colonel Fremont felt for his 1 pistole, but Don Jesus desired liim to 1 i>o still, paying that " People could scaro bears," aud immediately hallooed it them in Spanish, and they went off. Sleep wont oil also, and tho recovery of the horses frightened by the bears, i building a rousing tire, making a break-* i fast from tho hospital supplies of San i Luis Obispo occupied the party till day- 1 break, when the journey was resumed, eighty miles, aud the afternoon brought ] tho party to Monterey. < The next day, in tho afternoon, tho ] party set out on their return, and the j two horses rode by Colonel Fremont j from San Luis Obispo being a present to him from Don Jesus, he (Don Jesus) ( desired to mako an experiment of what , one of them could do. They were , brothers, one a year younger than the , other. The older was to bo taken for j the trial, and the journey commenoed . upon him at leaving Monterey?the ifteruoon well advenced. Thirty miles under the saddle done that evening and tho party stopped for the night. In the morning the elder canalo was again 1 unrler the saddle for Colonel Fromont, j iind for ninety miles ho carried him 1 without a change and without apparent fatigue. It was still thirty miles to Ban Luis Obispo, where tho night was to be passed, and Don Jesu. insisted that 1 canalo could do it, and so said the horse by his looks and action. But Colonel Fremont would not put him to the trial, and, shifting the saddle to the younger brother, the elder was turned loose to run the rema ning thirty miles without a rider. IIo did so, immediately taking the lead and keeping it all the way, and Bnteriug Sau Luis in a sweeping gallop, nostrils distended, snuffing the air and neighing with exultation at his return to liis nntivo pastures, his younger brother all the time at the head of the horses under tho saddle, bearing on his bit and held in by his rider. The whole eight horsee made the 120 miles each that, day (after thirty the evening before). After a hospitable detention of another half a day at San Lais Obispo, the party set out for Los Angeles, on the Bame nine horses which they had rode from that plaoe, and made the ride back in abont the same time they had made it np?namely, at the rate of 125 miles a day. On this ride the grass on the road was the food for the horses. At Monterey they had barley, but these horses ?meaning those trained and domesticated as the canalos were?eat almost anything of vegetable food, or even drink, their master uses, by whom they are petted and caressed and rarely sold. Bread, fruit, sugar, coffee and even wine (like the Persian horses) .they take from the hand of their master, and obey with like docility his slightest intima-* tion. A tap of the whip on the saddle springs them into action; the check of a thread rein (on the Spanish bit) wonld stop them; and stopping short at speed they d? not jostle the rider or throw him forward. They leap on everything? man, beast or weapon?on whioh their master directs them. This description, so far as conduct and behavior are concerned, of course only applies to' the trained and domestioated horse. Items of Interest. The paying admissions to the Centennial on I)cfooration day numbered 41,111. There are 70,000 ohildren living on boats in England, who receive no education. President Grant, it is said, expects to make a tour of the world at the close of bis term of offioe. Tennessee has forty cotton mills, employing 66,858 spindles, and oonsuming 14,443 bales of ootton. Daring the reoent drought in Jamaica water was so scarce that it fetohed eighteen shillings a puncheon. The intelligent farmer never waits for something to turn up. He takes a good plow to the ground and turns it np. According to the new directory, San Fnmcisoo has now a population of 272,145 souls, a gain of 42,000 during the last year. In the second week of March there were 86,808 paupers in London, of whom 36,915 were in workhouses, and 49,898 received outdoor relief. a Din lias Deen introauoeci into tne Texas Legislature declaring drunkenness to be a misconduct, and making it pun- * iahable by a fine of $100. The Benedictine monks are to establish a monastery at Foit Augustus, Inverness-shire, Scotland, after an absence of three hundred years. The exports of France to England in the first three months of the current year amounted to $50,000,000; those of Great Britain to France, $18,000,000. In Egypt three out of five children die before reaching the age of two years. This is about the rate of mortality among Presidential candidates in the United States this year. The governor of Texas has issued a proclamation revoking all immigration agencies heretofore established, as the new constitution does not reoognize any bureau of that kind. In a certain apothecary's shop of Pittsburgh may be seen a notice reoommending a certain patent medicine with the dubious heading : " Try the box ; noot her medicine will ever be taken." In Exeter, England, a policeman waiiujii iaj HrroHb a giri, UUb HUt5 proierred the canal to her misery, And jumped. He leaped after to save her, bnt she clang fast to him, and both were drowned. At a medical examination a young aspirant for a physioian's diploma was * asked : " When does mortification ensne?" "When you propose and are rejected." was the reply that greeted the questioner. " If there is anybody under the canister of heaven that I have in utter excresocnoe," says Mrs. Partington, "it is the slanderer, going about like a boy constructor, circulating his oolomel upon honest folks." Intelligent housemaid?" Oh, please miss, there was a young gentleman called when you was out. He didn't leave uo card, miss, but I can show you who he is, because there's three of his photographs in your album." A bar of gold, valued at 84,000, was carelesrly thrown away with the ashes of the San Francisco mint, and the "find " was picked up by a seven-year old boy, e i 11 . Yrt -J-i- il _ iroui wnom tii? uiucuub ui lu? ouiu unuy have been endeavoring to reclaim it without making the oireumstanoe of the loss known to the police. "Nothing," said a recent writer, "can form a more delightful study for the physiognomist than the light of hope and expectancy on the oountenanoe of a maiden awaiting the coming of her beloved. Pshaw! The man who wrote that should just see the expression on a New Jersey potato bug's visage as he sits on a clump of dirt watching for the first sign of the new crop to come Bp. Tho carpenter may look with pride upon the technology of his trade, tor it is used everywhere. To say nothing of old paws, we have heard of a cose where a lawyer split a hair, shaved a note, got up a case, made an. entry, framed an indictment, challenged the jury panel, put twelve of them in a box, bailed a witness, hammered the judge aud bored tho whole court. And what adze to his offense he chiseled his client, and turned carpenter himself.