Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

9 ;:ii y ???_ ??? 1-1 - II I ? ?? IT? ?? 1 Bji I : ' i I . m . " j VOLUME XXXVII. CAMDEN, S. C., NOVEMBER 14,1878. NUMBER 18. TEE CAMDEN JOURNAL Published Every Thursday At CAMDEN, S. C., by G. G. ALEXANDER. SUBSCRIPTION RATES. (In Advance.) One Year $'>4 00 Mix Months 1 25 DR.TH. ALEXANDER, Dental Surgeon, GRADUATE OF THE PHILADELPHIA COLLEGE OF DENTAL 8UHGRRT. Office, Xextdoor to County Treasurer's Office, " * "rvTIVT o r\ C, v.. DR T. BERWICK ILEGARE, DENTIST, GRADUATE OF THE BALTIMORE COLLEGE OF DENTAL SURGERY. OFFICE?DEKALB HOUSE. Entrance on Broad Street Wm. D. TRANTHAM, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BROAD STEET, Camden, fit. O. | J. T. HAY, ATTORNEY AT LAW ? AND Trial Justice Office over store of Messrs. Baum Bros. Special attention given to the collection of claims. T TIT T\?DACQ U . If I/?il attorney at law . AND Trial Justice. Business of all kinds promptly transacted. w. l. dEpass, attorney at law, camden, s. c. Will practice in all the State and Federal Courts. Jan29tf t. h. clarke, attorney at law, CAMDEN, S. C. Offlce?That formerly occupied by Capt. J. M. Darts. JanSVtf PHOTOGRAPHS ! Mr. W. S. Alexander being in Camden t:- r\. ii OQ a 8Jlt>rt VISIT, Will open uis u?ne^ ivi the accommodation of his many friends and former patrons. He is prepared to take as fine Photographs as can be made in the State. Copying and enlarging also done in the best style. He has on hand a splendid assortment ef Picture Frames, Chromos, etc., for sale at the lowest cash prices. Give him a call. FREDERICK J. HAY, Architect and Builder, CAMDEN, 8. C., Will furnish plans and estimates for all kinds of buildings. Contracts taken at moderate figures, and promptly and carefully attended to. Orders left at the CauDEff Jocbsal office ^ will receive immediate attention. K March ltf JOHN O, WOLST, PLAIN, ORNAMENTAL, r\ AND ? ? ?> -I-.T A TVrrTT? \ wjujrl^l itaiii jl Paper Hanger $ Glazier, CAMDEN, S. C. ept23?12m Riddle's Hotel, LANCASTER C. H., S. C. ?_ Havinsr purchased the Hotel formerly occupied by Mr. Jones Crockett, situated oil Main street, I am prepared to receive transient and permanent boarders. Good accommodations at reasonable rates. Stables and Lots free to drovers. JanlMf J. M. RIDDLE. Be Sure Stop at the v Latham House, CAMDEN, S. C. (TBAKStENT BOABD, $2.00 PIB DAT.) ? :o: ? ^ Ig^vAmple accommodations. Tables supf~ plied with the best the Markets afford. Every attention paid to the comfort of Guests. S&~ Parsons # stopping at the Latham House will be conveyed to and from the depot free of charge. Passengers, without heavy baggage, will be conveyed to and from any part of the town, not above De-I Kalb street, at 25 cents. fgyCbnnected with the house is a first class Bar, which is located separately from the house, and orderly kept. gQ^Conveyanoes supplied, to guests on liberal terms, either for city or country use. jan8-ly S. B. LATHAM, Proprietor. r?W?tchfN $3 toff. ReTolrrriagflgC *2.50. Over 100 JatestNoreMw A^KflMri. lio.SijppljCs.SoinlUf.Ttoo. V ^ BOOTS, SHOES, & . The undersigned respectfully informs his friends and the public generally that he may still be found at his shop, one door west of the postoffice, where he is prepared to execute promptly and in the most stylish and durable manner all jobs that may be giren him. He will also make or repair harness, or in fact anything else in his line. He only solicits a call, k ISAAC YOUNG. PL Aug* 6?tf ^7 wolfe; CHEAP DRY GOODS STORE. W~ ALSO, Buys and pays the highest market price for green and dry cow hides, sheep, fox, otter, mink, raccoon and rabbit skins. Also, rags, wool, tallow, beeswax, old iron, t brass, copper, &c. janltf | Water-Purifying Chain Pump -1 -> 4- 1? KMMnwAa rACKDOWlCU^CU IV UC Dupci'ivt *?v auj v?mv? pump known. No valves to get oat of or der. Bucket and chain9 made of galvanized maleable iron. The foulest water made pnre by the use of this pump. 1C feet or less, $10; each additional foot, 5C cents. This pump may be examined at the Latham House. jau8-tf . LATHM & PERKINS. BOOT MAKER, w. C. Youdk, having opened a shop on Broai Street, one ddbr below K. J. McCrelghc A Son*i v; Gin Factory, In Mr. G. S. Douglas' old store, re K gpectfully solicits the patronage of the public. Hi r r will make or repair Boots, Shoes, Harness &c." On the shortest uotlbe and in the most durahl manner. July HELPING PAPA AND MAMMA. Planting the corn and potatoes, Helping to scatter the seeds. Feeding the hens and the chickens, Freeing the garden from weeds, Driving the cows to tne pasture, Feeding the<horse in the stall, We little children are busy, Sure there is work for us all, Helping papa. Spreading the hay in the sunshine, Raking it up when it's dry, Picking the apples and peaches Down in the orchard hard by; Plucking the grapes in the vineyard, uathermg nuts in the tall, We little children are busy, H Yes, ihere is work for us all, Helping papa. Sweeping and washing the dishes, Bringing the wood from the shed, Ironing, sewing and knitting, Helping to makeup the bed; Taking good care of the baby, Watching her lest she should fall We little children are busy, Oh, there is work for us all, Helping mamma. Work makes us cheerful and happy, Makes uaboth active and strong; Play we enjoy all the better When we have labored so long, Gladly we help our kind parents; Quickly we come at their call; Children should love to be busy, There is much work for us all. Helping papa and mamma. A CLOSE SHOT. Where the Kentucky river cute its way through the mountains, having upon either bank bold rugged cliffs that lift their summits five hundred aod a thousand feet, as the case may be, above the stream, there lived, in early tiroes, a settler by the name of Hufos Branson, who, with his wife and only child, a charming little girl of some ' eigh, or nine year?, occupied a rude 1 cabin at the base of a precipice a little ' back from the river. Although greatly exposed to danger ?the Indians at that time being plenti- 1 ful throughout the region?he man- ' aged to live quietly for several years. 1 The Indians frequently visited the home of the rude hunter, and beine 1 always welcome and provided with such 1 food as might be in the larder, they < maintained a very friendly attitude. 1 Especially were they fond of the child 1 Maggie, and more than one fi-rce warrior had been sitting on the grass in front of the cabin, listening to the j ' childish prattle of the little one, or else j1 engaged in making it some toy or play- i 1 thing from twigs or bark. ] In this manner several years bad 1 been passed, and Rufns Branson .came, to feel a? secure as CTiOUghlie was withm ' the walls of a frontier fort. 1 One evening Branson and his wife were seated" n*ar the door-way wh< o ! suddenly a shadow fell across the thres- J hold, aDd me next, moment, n mu o.ira^r whose reeling and bloodshot eyes, told 1 that he was intoxicated, appeared, stag-1 gered to the log steps and threw himflelf.upon them. His first demands were for "fire-water," which were, of course, refused on the plea that there was none in the bouse. The Indian became cross and ugly, swearing, with terrible oaths, that if the liquor was not produced, he would murder the household. Branson wus a 1 brave man, although he dreaded the necessity, yet he saw that he would be compelled to take prompt steps to prevent the savage f<om executing his thnuts Waiting until the warrior had made a demonstration?which he soon did by attempting to draw his tomahawk Branson sprsDg upon him, knocked him down with u blow of his fist, and then disarmed him and bound him where be lay. After a few miDUt?s of futile efforts to free himself, the savage rolled - - * 1 I over and sunk into a drunKen siuuioer, | He did not awake until next morn| iDg, but before he did so, the settler had quietly removed his bands, and restored the weapons, which he laid by the sleeper's side. The savage, on waking, rose slowly to his feet, felt his wrists, as though the thongs had left a feeling there, took up his weapons, and without speaking a word, left, disappearing in the timber that stood near by. "What do you think of that?" asked the wife, turning to the husband with a scared look. "Pshaw! Don't trouble yourself about the drunken brute," answered the settler, lightly, but as he turned away, and stepped into the yard, he muttered : "Like it! Well not much. The fellow must be watched. I was in hopes he ; 15 * * ?. hl)f lt)At W0UIC1 not OUVC rrujcumnvv, lump, where my fist landed, was enough, if nothing else, to recall the circumstances." The summer passed ; they saw the drunken guest no more. He failed to make his appearance. But as the leaves began to fall, the settler, one day while returning from hunting on the hills, and passing through a dense pieco ~ - ' _r _ a of timber, caugno sigrn, ui o u^u.v larking io the bushes, bat which quickly disappeared when h# advanced towards where it was. The figure was that of au Indian warrior, and Rufus . Branson would have sworn that it was i the Indian whom he bad knocked down ' and bound the previous summer. The ! knowledge was not in any wsy comforting. hence he did not tell his wife of . the discovery. It would have alarmed hor without, perhaps, any good result, i He merely told her he had discovered i bear tracks near by, and she and the ! child must stay within or close to the s house when he was absent. Several dats afterward, Rufus Brani son heard his doL? in the timber, down e; by the river, and knowing that they | never opened without good cause, he caught up bis rifle and hastened to whero they were barking. They had struck a fresh bear trail, and as he arrived in sight they fairly lifted it, going on in a straight line down the river. The chose had led him several miles, and when at last he got his shot, that finished bruin's career, he found that it was three or four o'clock in the ^afternoon. Swinging his gome to a sappling, out of reach of cat or wolf, he started for home to get the old gray mare aud return and fetch it that night. Taking a cut he approached the cabin from the Western side, where the tim ? /? - . 1. ber grew heavy op to within a lew roas of the buildiDg, and, consequently, he could not see the clearing, or what might be transpiring there, until be bad paseed through the wood. Thus it was that when within but a very short <^tance from his home, he heard a wild, piercing shriek; he conld guess that something terrible must be taking place beyood the screen of bushes and haves. Uttering a loud shout, that his pres? ence might sooner be mode knowD, Branson sprang forward with the leaps , of a wounded buck, a great fear at his i heart, but he had only too e'early recognised in that scream, the agonized voice of his wife. It took but a moment for i him to near tho intervening timber and undergrowth, and, as he dashed out into < the clearing, holding bis rifle ready for i instant use, he comprehended in one i swift glance, all that bad taken place, i and what was further. i Near the end of the cabin, facing the cliffs of which I have spoken, stood the i mother her face as white as the dead, I her arms outstretched, and her staring I eyes fixed upon the precipitous height I up which the form ol aD Indian warrior i was struggling. < "My child! my child!" was all the < woman said, aud theu Rufus Branson c aw that the bundle borne in tho In- ] Ban's arms was tho form of their only t child, little Maggie. t Firm of heart, and with nerves as steady as the rocks around, the father, for a moment, actually quailed aDd sowered under what his quick gtnse aid him was the deadly peril of his lit- ( :le one f But he was quick to recover. , The IndiaD was drawing away ; step } nt>n hn was increasing the distance. ? ind as he.occasionally glanoed back- 6 ward, the parents saw in bis bideonsly t painted countenance, the fell purpose ] bat actuated the abduction, ( "find and hulI" Rr?Mnn mn)l?M<l -? je raised his rifle, glanced through the "j lights, and touched the trigger. i The Tndian started, violently, at the < ihot. i He waa hit, but not badly hurt, and j with a yell of devilish triumph, be passed | upward. ? I "Too low by a couple of inohes," said a low, calm voice, at the settler's ?j elbow. i Branson started as though he himself ( had be^n shot. 1 Where has that, man come from ? j Who is he f Neither had seen him ( npproach. But there was no time for explanation. The stranger, a man rather below than above the ordinary height, whose fine, athletic form was fully dis_t 1 v.. u:? otnonln fillino hlipli hIc 111 pjBYfU X.IJ 11IC VIVOCIJ uv. .w^ garments, stepped forward a few paceB, and primly planting his left foot in advance threw up an unusually long rifle as though preparing to fire. "For God's sake, stranger, be careful of my child !" cried Branson. while the agonized mother muttered an inaudible prayer. "It's our only chance. T koovr that Indian," was the quick reply, and the sharp click of the hammer, as it was drawn back, told that the critical mo? ment had come. By this time the Indian had nearly reached the summit of the steep. That he was wounded now became evident, as upon abroad ledge of rock be rested a moment. The opportunity was seized by the unknown. Although the savage had taken the precaution to hold the child in front of himself as a shield, covering nearly the whole of his brawney chest, but leaving his head uncovered, the stranger did not hesitate to make the shot. For one second, as it gained its position, the rifle waved, and instantly became nB immovable as though held by a vice. With clasped hands and straining eyes, the parents watched the statue like form upon whose skill so much depended. Suddenly a sharp report rang out, the white smoke drifted away, and, as the vision became clear, they saw the savage loose his hold upon the child, reel wildly for an instant, and then pitch forward upon the rocks. It may be imagined that 'ths father was not long in reaching the place where the child lay, and iu a few moments more the little one was in its mother j arms. "Tell ns who you are that we may know what name to mingle with our prayers," said the mother, as the stranger prepared to depart. "Ny name is Daniel Boone," be said ?and he was gone. A Splendad Tribute. The younger among as cannot perhaps remember the keen warm sympathy with which the English of 1861G5 witnessed the heroic struggle maintained by their Southern kinsmen against six. fold odds of numbers, and odds of position, resources, vantage ground, simply incalculable Even those-who, fmm sympathy with the i Northern States, were unfarorablo to the cause of a great nation reYolfing against a real tyranny could nttTbot feel proud of oar near kinship wijhtbat incomparable soldiery ?so designated by their enemies?which, on fift*""1)attlcfields, maintained a contest ancl as no other race has ever in modern Jlimes maintained, and at last, when al| hope was gone, held for six months,{ with forty-five thousand men against one hundred and fifty thousand, a slendoy line of earthworks thirty miles in length ; who marched out 28,000 strongjTand after six days' retreat in front lof a loco norolru ond nvArvhtmiinii ? '""J D artillery and infantry pressing thela on alludes, surrendered at last bnt $,000 bayonets and sabres. It is this people, the flower and pride of the great^pglish race, on whom a more terrible, more merciless enemy has now jjftllen. There can be now no division oraeympathy, as there is no passion to Jttcite and keep up the courage needed pr the occasion. Yet the men and wodpn of the South are true to the old tradition. Her youth volunteer to serve and'die in the streets of plague-stricken cities as readily as they went forth, boyjf!. and gray-haired men, to meet the threatened surprise of Petersburg?as they volunteered to charge again and again, the cannoD-crowned hills of Gettysburg, and to enrich with their blood, and honor with the name of a new victory, every field around Richmond. Tbeir aisters, wives, mothers, and daughters are doing and suffering now as they suffered from famine, disease, incessant anxiety and alarm throughout the four years of the civil war. There may he among the various notions of th? Aryan family one or two who would claim that they could have furnished troops like [hose whioh followed Lee and Johnston. Stuart and Stonewall Jaoksoo ; bat we ioubt whother there be one race beside iur own that could send forth its chilIreo by hundreds to face in towns desoated by the yellow fever the horror of a rurse's life and tho imminent terror of t martyr's death.?London Standard. Mrs- Atkinson's Baby. The Atkinsons have had a terrible im?; over their baby. Mr. Atkinson cnt home a folding crib, with the slats nade in two pieces and bung upon unges. When they opened their crib md pnt the mfcttrees in it, Mr. Atkinlon omitted to fix securely the catches hat hold the slats. Mr. and Mrs. At cinson went to bed early tb^t night, ind about eleven o'clock, while they -K&Mllvas that the slats slowly descended, and leposited the mattress and the baby upon the floor. The baby being particularly wide awake, crawled out into the room, and seeing a light in the entry, went through tho door just as Mr. Atkinson's aunt, Miss Boggs, was com* ing up the stairs to bed. 8he picked the baby up, and finding that its father and mother were asleep, she carried it to her room in the third story, determined to take care of it during the rest of the night. About an hour later Mrs. Atkinson woke,and thought she would glance over at the crib to soe bow the baby was getting along. No sooner had she done so than she jumped from the bed in alarm. The baby was not there ! The bottom seemed to have fallen out of the whnlo contrivance. Her first thought was that the baby was lying under the mattress smothered to death. She pulled the mattress aside, but there was no sign of the baby. TheD, wild with alarm, she shook Mr. Atkinson, and told him to get up. Atkinson growled out, in a sleepy tone: ' The paregoric bottle is in the closet; go and get it yourself.' 'Alonzo! shrieked Mrs. Atkinson, 'you don't understand. The baby is gone! It is gone!?stolen !?kidnapped I ?murdered, maybe 1 Oh, what shall I A I ? T 1. do.7"?wnar anan jl ao.? 4 Now be calm, Julia/ said Atkinson, getting out of bed; 4 don't get hysterical. The child, most likely, is under the bed/ 4 No, it isn't; no, it's not there !' exclaimed Mrs. Atkinson, upon her faandt and knees 4 Possibly,' said Alonzo, beginning tc feel uneasy, 4be has crept into the closet, let us look.' 'This is horrible !' said - Mrs. Atkin son, clasping her hands. Do you think,' asked Mr. Atkinson 4that he could have crawled into t bureau drawer and pulled it to aftei him F 'Certainly not!' paid Mrs. Atkinson 'You know he couldn't.' ------ TT t 'I think 1 hear Mm now. tie nai fallen out or the window!' said Mrs Atkinson, as afa'Dt wail floated up fron the back yard. * 'No, it's only Mrs. Magruder's ca yowling oo the fence/ replied Atkinson as he closed the sash. 'Have yoi looked in the bath tub in the nex room ? Perhaps he has gone to take i bath.' 'Drowned ! 1 know it I I m sur of it 1' yelled Mrs. Atkinson, ruahin; into the bath-room. 'He's not here.1 said Mr. Atkinaot 'Could he have gone down staii and fallen into the sugar-bucket in th pantry ?' 'We must search the whole house fc him,' said Mrs. Atkinson. So they began the hunt. They looke everywhere. In the clothes hampe in the kitchen cupboard, in the parlo in the pantry, and even ic the cella but without avail. 'He couldn't have gone up stairs I said Mr. Atkinson, 'beoauee be can : elimb the steps.' 'No; he must have been stolen I Ho . has been stolen by bnrglaTS ! I shall never, never see him again?never l' 'Don't give way, Julia. Be calm. I will go at once for the police.' Mr. Atkinson dressed himself hurriedly. and dashed down stairs and out into the front street. He met a police* man almost at the door, and in frantio accents laid the caso before him. The policeman sounded an alarm, and soon had six other policemen at hand. They entered the house, and proceeded to examine the fastenings. Everything was right, and one of the policeman coi/f 'In my opinion the burglar is in the house yet.' 'We'll go for him,' said another. So they drew their revolvere and proceeded to search the building. Presently Mr.Atkinson heard the report! of a pistol in the kitchen. He rushed down. 'I think I've killed him,' said policeman Jones. 'Bring a light quick 1' 'And killed the baby, loo !' shrieked Mrs Atkinson. 'By George, I forgot about the baby,' said the officer. Then the light came and they fonnd that policeman Jones had shot his dog, which had followed him into the house. Then policeman Smith's pistol went off accidentally, and the bullet hit the kitchen clock, which at once struck pine hundred and eighty one, and the confusion and racket so unstrung Mrs. Atkinson's nerves that she went Into hysterics and emitted successive yells of a terrific character. This brought Miss Boggs down from the third story in alarm. 'What on earth is the matter?' she called. 'Matter?' said Atkinson* 'Don't you know that burglars have broken into the house and stolen the baby ? Why, we've been having the awfulleat time you ever heard of for the last two hours.' 'Why, I've got the baby op-stairs with me,' said Miss Boggs; 'I've had him all night.' 'You have ?' exclaimed the party in a breath. Certainly.' 'Doyoti mean to tell me,' asked Atkinson, with supernatural calmness, that the baby was quietly sleeping in your room all this time ?' 'Yes.' Atkinson simply looked at her. He felt that language was unequal to the expression of his feelings. Mrs. Atkint&n flow up^st&irs, two steps at a time. Jones pulling bis deceased dog by the tail. Atkinson went to bed with merino anger in his soul/ and the next morning he put a sheet-iron bottom, fastened with rivets, upon that folding crib.?Max Adder. Shall Wo know Each Otnor There ? Hope responds 'Yes/ and wo delight to sing of the time when wo shall meet our loved ones beyond the river, and renew an association that shall never be broken. But sweet as is this picture, it fades away before the fact, startling though evident, that our soul9 do not know each other her e. The mo9t intimate relations known to earth do nothing more than establish an acquaintance between the bodies. The souls of man and wife, if stripped of their tenements of clay would be utter strangprs to each other. They know each others bodies ?they have studied each others actions, and sought to read what is written ahout the soul in the face and form. But much of what constitutes the roal 1 J 1 _ _ churacter remains unreveaiea Dy eye ?r toDgue. There are aspirations and fears, eager longings and passsions that bea* tify or torture which are known only to tho individual and to God. Christian i Hope however looks beyond this period 1 of separate existence to a time when all : the graves of earth shall unclose and the sea shall give up the dead that are in it, and soul and body shall be united. > But the slender ray of light thrown by ' Revelation across this abyss, forbids us 1 cherish the expectation cf 'knowing each other there. We are told that ' they who shall be like unto the angels, 1 J it* n (VkwrnA/l nn AnrtVt ana mst uie iciuuuuo iu> uji.>i vu vm>? will be unrecognized. Fathers and sons, ) mothers and daughters will be all on ' perfect terms of equality. Those relationships have been established to meet ' the necessities of our present form of existence, and when this necessity shall cease, they will be abolished. 1 Adam and his latest descendant will p stand before the throne, linked indeed by a common humanity, but equally the sons of God. Such answer returns the Bible to that pathetic query of a 3 lovine heart: "Shall we know each other there ?" But let us abide in hope. 1 All will be right. Illusions. 1 ? * a The natural world is lull or illusions, t The apparent rising ond setting of the a sun, the gorgeous clouds that prove to bo only a dreary mist when you get e caught in them, the mirage, that reveals g things lying below the horizon, and shows us ships sailing keel up in the (. air, the fall moon, which, as it"emerges s from the horizon, appears to be twice e as large as it does when it is over our wfciU if looked at through a ,ll"UDl ^ w >r tabs or measured bj an instrament, is found to be of precisely the same diamd eter, the coming together to a point oi r, two right lines when seen in perspective r. the mistake of supposing the train in r, which we are seated to be in motiot when another train at our s;do begini 1/ to start, the deceptive idea that we hav< 't of distance, as in the instanco of a luft; mountain, which may seem to he close at band, when, in fact, it is scores of miles away; these are illusions of sight that are familiar to us all. There are other forms of optical illusion, which depend upon the principle that motion may be quicker than sight, such as the extraordinary tricks of the juggler, or prestidigitator, whioh is now the favorite title of the professors of this science, the continuous circle of fire produced by whirling a lighted stick in the air, and the fantastic movement of painted ngures id tne popular toy Known as zootrope. And again, tbo most marvelous illusions may be the result of an excited fancy, as when one sees specters and bobgoblins. Power of a Sweet Voice. There is no power of love so hard to get and keep as a kind voice. A kind hand is deaf and dumb. It may be rough in flesh and blood, yet do the work of a soft heirt, and do it with a soft fbuch. But there is no one thing that love so meoh. needs as a sweet voice to tell what it means and feels; and it is bard to get and keep it in the rigbttone. One must start in youth, and be ou the Watch, night and day, at work and play, to get and keep a voice that shall speak at all times the thoughts of a kind heart. But this is the time when a sharp voice is most apt to be got. You often hear boys and girls say words at play with a quick, sharp toue, as if it were the snap of a whip. When one of them gets vexed you will hear a voice that sounds as if it was made up of a snarl, a whine and a bark. Such a voice often speaks worse than the heart feels. It shows more ill-will in the tone than in the words. It is often in mirth that one gets a voice or a tone that i9 sharp, and sticks to him throngh life, and stirs op ill-will and grief, and falls like a drop of gall ou tho sweet joys ot home. Snob as these get a sharp home voice for use, and keep their best voice for those they meet elsewhere, jast as they would save their best cakes and pies for guests, and all their sour food for their own board. I would say to all boys and girls : "Use yonr guest voice st borne. Watch it day by day as a pear) of great price, for it will be worth more to you in days to come than the best pearl hid in the sea. A kind voice is a joy like a lark's song to a hearth and home. It is to the heart what light is to the eye. It is a light that sings as well as shines. Train it to Bwoet tones now, and it will keep in tune through life." t?_ Tjfy, U .. a WlttYCICI j^IVCO bUO J VUUTTIU|? ^(||/U1U picture of Afghan life: Two men quarrelled and one was wounded. He refused to have his arm amputated, gangrene set io and he died. His brother as next of kin. claimed the^u?^ cogumstv int. a iaurviieair writer thus describes the final scene : "About noon there was a great crowd and a tumult of voices outside the citadel gate, but as we knew what was to take place we did not go out to see the ceremooy. Presently the din was hushed, there was a momentary pause of complete sileuce, and then a sudden outburst of applause. Wo hardly needed to be told what had happened, but soon after Faramuz Khan came in, in perfect ecstasies of delight at the brutal sight he had just witnessed and applauded. Ho told ub that after the Judge had pronounced the prisoner guilty, he consigned him to the care of the avenger, who at once stepped forward; and, un? sheathing his knife, threw down his brother's homicide, kneeling on his chest, with a sonorous Bismilla harahmanfl-rahim fin the name of the most merciful and gracious), cut bis throat from ear to ear as he would have done that of a sheep." | A Prize. "I will say but one thing in praise of my daughter," said a happy father at [that daughter's wedding-breakfast. "She is a thorough and practical housekeeper." Oould any compliment have been higher? What an indorsement it was of the good sense and prospective comfort of her husband ! For a man has so much of the animal in bis natnre that he cares more for a good dinner than he does?so long as his appetite is anappeased?to listen to the music of the spheres. Heavy bread has made - moari VtCA f ft Hvfl* j many ueavy ucaim, s<.ku ...... pepsia and its accompanying torments. Girls who desire that their husbands should bo amiable and kind should learn to make light bread. A story is told of a happy wife who, when she asked how she managed her husband so successfully, replied, with a roguish smile, "My dear, I feed him well." There is a great deal in that. Those wives who are entirely dependent upon hired cooks make a sorry show at housekeeing. The stomach performs a very important part in the economy of humanity; and those who are forgetful of the fact commit a serious mistake. Even the lion may be tamed by keeping him well-fed, Auotber famine in Ireland is threatened by the failure of the potato crop. The Bostoo Pilot states that the present season has .been almost a repetition of that of 1847, in which and the preceding year there were half a million deaths - y?i?j rri i from tamine id ireianu. lncpiuiui.-svi > last year were almost a dead loss, lh? ' yield in some cases Dot paying a tenth ! tlie cost of planting, and now from manj i sections come3 reports of blight to th< i haulms and taint in the tubers. I j famine oomes it cannot be fatal as ii 3 the previous hall dozen visits during th< jr century, but it will be bad enough. *?B=^VEBTISING RATE^5555^ Timi. 1 in. J J col. .J.flol. 1 col. 1 wtelc,$l 00 $5 00 $9 00 $16 00 2 ?? 1 75 7 60 12 26 20 00 3 << 2 50 9 00 15 25 24 00 4 << 3 00 10 50 18 00 27 5p A ?a ?? wr n/\ rr\ o* AA 5 " 80O 11 lO lv uv o. uv 6 ? 4 00 12 60 22 76 84 ><0 7 " 4 60 13 26 24 76 37 tO 8 " 6 00 14 00 26 00 Hi 00 8 moB 6 60 17 00 ' 32 00 60 00 4 " 7 60 19 00 8S50 69 00 6 " 8 60 24 00 48 00 ' 84 00 9 9 60 80 00 69 00 106 00 12 " 10 26 36 00 68 00 120 00 nr Transient advertisements must be acoemanled with the cash to Insure Insertion. * A Pithy Reply. Some forty or fifty years ago a VenetiaB squadron, commanded by Emo, a Captain of reputation, anchored in a little bay near the Tillage of Calouri, in Corfu, one of the most secluded spots ? 4 ktr A rn An nf iu nil nunu, iiiiiauiwu uj ? ??w most primitive people, whose only prodace was pitch, which they obtained of very excellent quality from the pines that covered their soil. Emo had heard of this famous pitch, and sent by a special messenger a letter conceived in the usnal magniloquent style of Venetian official documents, requiring and entreating "the Syndicks, Primates or Governors, as they might style.themselves, of the loyal village of Calouri, as faithful and industrious friends and allies, in the name of the most illustrious Republiclr, to consign to his trusty messenger twelve barrels of. the said commodity called pitch, in lieu whereof he, in the name of the Republic, promised, agreed and offered to give any remuneration that might be required, pros vided always, .that the same should be within the bounds of moderation. And praying that all prosperity, etc., etc." Tho old men of the village, who had never beard of Emo or of Venice, assembled under the trees, where debates were always held; they turned the letter over and over, wondering why Emo ak/\nl/1 flnn/I onrtli a wl BUJT UVUfrl UIUIVOI 9UVH1U DbUU DUVU string of compliments to a handful cf poor peasants, and at last (to come to the last end of the story) an answer Was written and sent, in these words : "We, of Calonri, to Emo, the Admiral; send us your money, and you shall have our pitch." Josh Billings' Proverbs. "There is no woman stationed on the face of the earth who triej so hard to do right and fails oftener than the average mother-in-law." "An enthusiast is au individual who believes about four times as much as he can prove, and can prove four times as much as any body else will believe." "Falling in love is like falling down !(' ornrlr in tnll iust how the thing was done." "Mice can live any where comfortably but in a church ; they fatten very slowly in church; This proves that tbey can't live on religion anymore than a minister can." . "The worst tyrant in tbis world is a woman who is superior to her husband, and lets everybody know it barelflut^Mfifn^^e^ater^n^fe we have it the tougher it goes with na " UO. "Great thinkers are not apt to be great whistlers. When a man can't think of anything else he begins to whistle." ? TlSfiut Your Mouth." Oatlin taught the world the impor* tance of shutting the mouth and breath* ing through the nose. It would seem that this little book, entitled "Shut Tour Mouth," is bearing fruit In Germany, and where new thoughts receive more attention from physicians than anywhere else in the world. Keapira* ' ' * ? tUan V?*r f Kn tlOD Dy IDS mouiu IB easier tuau uj tuv nose, but it is not so safe. The nose to a certain extent, fits the air for entering the longs. Tbe sense of smell warns as against breathing an air loaded with poisonous rapors. The moisture of the nasal cavities to some extent saturates the air, and makes it less irritating to the throat and larynx. Tbe mucus of the nasal passage and the hairs catch the dnst before it. goes far enough to harm; On the other hand breathing through the mouth dries the throat, and in children may oaueo false croup, catarrh, and it may so effect the eustaohain tube as to cause injury to the ear and deafness. How They Die in Bulgaria. When the head of a Bulgarian family perceives that he is about to die, bo sends for the priest and begins to bargain with him about tbe cost of his funeral. Tbe moment be dies all the pots, pans, and kettles in the house are turned upside down to prevent his soul taking refuge in any one of them, and ? great care is taken to prevent either man or anima1--especially a cat or dog ?from stepping across his body, as otherwise, in the opinion of his family, he would turn into a yampire and be a continual nuisance to them and to their neighbors. The body is buried without any coffin, in a shallow grave, aod left there for three years, .during which time many offerings of food and wine are placed upon it, At the end of the third year the bones of the dead man are dug up carefully washed, put into a linin bag, laid before the alter in the village churoh, and, after receiving the blessing of the priest, are buried for good. Always the Same. They had been engaged about fifteen ' minutes and she nestled ber bead a little closor, under the shadow of bis monumental shirt collar, and whispered, 'And now what are you going to call me, Algernon ?' 'Birdie !' he whispered raptu rously, while bis voice trembled wiia ; tender emotion, 'always and ever, i nothing but Birdie I' .And she fairly F cooed with delight. He kept his word, 5 although with the growing precision of 11 middle age, he has become specific and r does not deal in sweeping generalities 3 any more, and so it was that day before f yesterday a neighbor going in the back i way to borrow the ax, a cop of sugar e and the oistern pole, heard bim call her au 'old sage-ben.'?Ifcwktp.