University of South Carolina Libraries
/ . ; ? VOL. XXXVII. CAMDEN, S. C., M AY 1, 1879. NO. 41. I / ?he Camden lonntat, ?I?J(1 lilt MCSUAM ? AT? CAMDEN, S. C., - BY? G. C. ALEXANDER, Subscription Itntes: . (is adtaxce.) Ono Tear #2.00 Bis Months 1.00 Poetic Answers. WHAT IS YOt'lt CHARACTER ? A rare compound ot oddity, frolic und tun, To relish a joke and rejoice in a pun. ?Goldsmith. That of the epicure, who, serenely full, may say, Fate cannot harm me; I have dined to-day. ?Swift. Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitlul, Sullen, malicious, smacking of every sin that has a name. ?Shakespeare. WHAT IS l'Ol'R C1IIKF ATTRACTION? Thou hast the sweetest face I ever looked on. ?Shakespeare. Good asnse which only is the gifl of Heaven, And though no science, fairly worth the seven ?Tope. A form so fair, that lik? the air Tis less of earth than heaven. ?E. E. Tiukncy. Ho. is so full of pleasant anecdote, So rich, so gay, so poignant in his wit : Time vanishes before him as ho speaks, And ruddy morning through the lattice peeps. ?Joanna Baillie. WHAT I>0 TOf LIKK BfcST. That all-softening, overpowering knell, The tocsin ot the soul?the dinner bell. ?Byron. A slight flirtation by the light ot a chandelier. With music to play in the pauses And nobody very near. ?Willis. Gold ! Gold ! Gold ! Gold ! Bright and yellow, hard and cold. ?Hood. Give me kisses ! all is waste save the luxury ol the taste. And lor kissing?kisses live only when we take or give, Kiss me, then, Kvery moment?and again. ?J. l?. Saxe. WHAT DO TOIT DISMKE 3IOST? Of every bore, It to the list you add a score, Are not so bad, upon my lile, As that one scourge, a scolding w ile. I ?Berni. Drunkenness, whose vile incontinence Take both away, the reason and the sense, j It drowns the better parts, nnking tlie name j To l'oes a laughter, to triends a shame. ?Itaudolph j Course speech, biul grammar, swearing, Drinking, vice. - ?Holmes. Homc-nmcle physic that sickens the sick, i Thick for thin and thin for thick, -Hood. I' WHAT IS TOCR HIGHEST AMBITION? To go to church to-day, . - To look devout and seem to pray, And ere to-morrow's sun goes down j ,15c dealing slander through the town. 1 ^ ?Mrs. Sigouruey. ^ To dress as the nobles dress, In cloth of silver and gold, "With silk and satin and costly lurs : In many an ample fold. ?IIoo.l. 1 Oh, grunt mo, Heaven, a middle state, Neither too humble, nor too great, /yS More than enough lor nature's ends, 1 With something lelt to treat my friends. V- ?Mallet. Oil, gic 111c the lass that hae acres of charms; Oh, gic nye lass \vi the weel stockit farm ! ?Bums. Then let me get money as bees lay up honey; I'll build new hives and stlSfe each cell, .The sight ot my treasure wiil yield me great i." > pleasure, I'll count it, and chink it, and jingle it well. ?Dr. Franklin. WHAT IS TOUR FAVORITE FLOWER? Magnificent cnllu, in mantle of milk. ?Mrs. Sigourney. The chaste camelia's pure and spotless bloom, That boasts no fragrance and conceals no thorn. ?William Roscos. And faith that a thousand ills can brave Speaks in thy blue leaves, " forgct-inc-not.'' ?Percival. Rose, thou art the sweetest flower. ?Burns. WHO IS YOUR INTENDED ? A perfect woman nobly planned, To warn, to comfort and command, And yet a spirit still and bright, With something of an angel's light. ?Wordsworth. A judge, a roan so learned, So full ol equity, so noble?envy ?Chapman aiu! Shirley. A hungry, lean-Cvced villain, A mere anatomy, a monntclmnk, A thread-bare juggler, and fortune-teller, A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch. ?Shakespeare. A rosebud set with willful thorns As sweet as English air can make her. ?Tennyson. W11AT IS TUB CHARACTER OK VOIR INTENDED ? .She takes the most delight In music, instruments and poetry. ?Shakespeare. The solemn fop, significant and budge, A fool with judges, and among fools a judge, ?Cowper. She has rend her father's well-filled library witli profit, And can talk charmingly: she can sing And play, too. passably, and dunce with spirit: She is knowing in all needle-work; And shines in kitchen as well us parlor. ?J. N. Barker. Ho is a scholar, and a ripe and good one, ExcWdingly wise, Cur spoken and persuading. ?Shakespeare. WHAT 18 YOUR OKSTISY ? Never wedding, never wooing, STtill a lovelorn heart nurguinir. ?Campbell. To be n inan ol rank and ol capacious soul, To riches have, and lame beyond dcsiie, Aud heir to flattery, to titles born, And reputation and luxurious life. ?Robert Pollock. Single ns a stray glove, minus its mute. ?Fanny Kcmble. WHERE WILL YOUR HOME BE? Where beasts with man divided empire claim, And the brown Indian marks with murderous aim. ?Goldsmith. Where from the rise ol morn to set of sun The mighty Mohawk runs, And the dark woods of pine Along his mirror darkly shine. ?Moore. In some enchanted isle, Where heaven and love their Sabbath hold. ?Campbell. DEMETER'S DAUGHTER.! Mrs. ]>c Lettante had invited a crowd of people to hear a white-haired man | of lofty artistic pedigree read. She was fond of patronizing talent. When Mr. j Kcinble had given his Sir Anthony Ah- J solute and Sir Peter Teazle, Mrs. i)e Lettante went about among her guests and explained that she had still another | pleasure in store for them: Miss Hilda Wiesc would now recite. Miss Wiese was a debutante, hut they would see she had great possibilities. Mr. Kcmblc had spoken to her of the young lady, who intended to become a professional reader; he was enthusiastic in her praise. So, after a brief interval, a voung girl was led forward, who recited portions of Maine's beautiful and touching story witn native ease and grace. She stood in the third of the suite of rooms that opened one into another, llehind her was a background of white flowers arranged on graduated steps, a mass of hyacinths chHly and daffodils (it was spring). She was a flower of spring herself, with the ineffable glory and charm of youth about her: serene, wide In-..,,. linni-v il-irl- li-iiv MMic swept to one side: the outlines of her 1 fax* pure :ind harmonious, and strong rather than delicate; in her cheeks the Fresh, steady color that rarely outlasts girlhood. She wore a quaintly simple ! black silk gown, the sleeves cut to the 1 elbows ami lleecily milled with white; N the same white effect at her throat. I' Her voice was rich and soft and full. | Her recitation charmed: there was a 1 murmur of pleased surprise. When she ' had done she simply fell back a step or ' two against the tiers of llowers. She I < helped herself to a daffodil, and stood | ? carelessly swinging it, listening to some- j s thing kind which the elocutionist said j s to her. " IJ Presently Mrs. T>e Lettante came up j 1 with a tall, fair young man of a studi- ; 1 ous aspect, whom she made known to Miss Wiesc as l)r. Douglass. As this } young man bowed in acknowledgement ] of the introduction, he said to himself. ^ " Demeter's daughter, fair and free," r out of a sweet rhyme-hook of his sister's. f "You gave me a great deal of ple:is- j lire," he said, with a touch of the self- j confidence of youth in the worth of its ] own praise. " 1 "Did T? T am very glad." , 'As for Mre. De Lettante, she is j fairly ruflled with complacency at hav- ? ing sponsored you." " Mrs. De Lettante lias been very good (. to me." (i "You have repaid her. She is the ( woman in,search of a mission. Look j it her now, magnetizing that little dark man with those restless hazel eyes of i t hers." 1 j " She is very gracious and handsome." A " Extremely so in her sweeping satin J ? robes?Nile green you ladies call that h rolor, do you not??stately, dark-haired, j f fair?skinned. I wonder who the ugly ,. little man is?" * i ] "Mr. lvemhle told me. lie is a1 g Frenchman, a duke. 11 is father was ^ made a duke by the emperor at Sol- .* ferino. lie inherits the title." j " Pasteboard nobility." " There has to he a beginning to every- . thing. Bravery is its own pedigree. ' Did "you ever hear what Nadir replied r when 4 Delhi's throne inquired the an- j cestry' of his son? s My CI1UU IS luiuiu, u?r, 1U111J uuni, { He is the son and grandson of the sword.'" ( I ler simple enthusiasm was contagious, t "No doubt you and Nadir?is that i liis name??arc right^JIere comes Mrs. Do Lettantc with lieTCiuke. He is like c Jacob?lie halts on his thigh." ' The Due do Bonne Fortune was ]>ro- j sented in his turn. He was not an at- 1 tractive personage, upon the whole; as : you have gathered, little and dark, and very lame. He was a man who had 1 liven in the world and for the world, and i his life had left no impress of any lofty 1 impulse upon his face; on the contrary, there wore linos of craft and guile around 1 his mouth and eyes. lie was no longer < young, but he looked older than his 1 actual age. Still he showed traces of 1 the old-world civilization he had sprung : from; there was a gay sparkle and t vivacity about his conversation which i disposed Hilda in his favor. All women 1 like to be amused. Besides, in her up- i right vigor she felt a " divine^ompas- 1 sion" for his irfirmity. i Dr. Douglass drifted away with Mrs. 1 De Lettante, who said, going: "Do you 1 know Mrs. Wiesc? There she is, all by ] herself in tl^it corner. Of course she is s almost a stranger here. I asked her for the daughter's sake. I wish you would ] talk to her." s Douglass agreed readily. Douglass ' was not singular in his alacrity to be i civil to the mother of a beautiful daugh- < ter. And Mrs. Wiesc proved to be < ehnrnrng on her own account?literally : tlm Iinli.n.l-nowi.l otwl ? mi 11 iv- uiiuavnm jvu anu i fresh cheerfulness of a child. She had a I : "primrose face"?a phrase I like to hor- |: row from Owen Meredith to describe a j; certain type of face that never entirely i loses its youth?with ready smiles, ami 1 changing color, and clear eyes, add, in her case, sunny chestnut hair (the coloring should be bright). An electric spark w:is struck between Douglass ami herself. She liked young men in a delightful, motherly way, that always bore in mind her own half-grown boys. Anil young men mvananiy liken nor. She talked frankly to Douglass; among other things ahout. her husband's delicate health and failing sight. Douglass had made a specialty of diseases ot the eye, and lent an intelligent interest. lie said he should be honored if Mrs. Wiose would permit liirn to call upon herself I and her husband; he did not add, "and your daughter.11 although at that very moment his gaze was resting on the calm young lVrse^hone in the next room, who. still idly twirling her snowy daffodil, was talking to the pasteboard duke. Later in the evening Douglass fell in again with Mrs. De Lett ante. "They -- * 1 1 * - TI'l 1 . toll mo," no said, indicating niiua, "that that beautiful child is destined for the stage. 1 confess I am sorry to hear it." "She has a gift. To my thinking, it belongs to the world." " And so she will dim her loveliness behind the footlights, and lose the bloom of her reticence and modesty." " Xot necessarily. An ordinary woman fulfill. ;vu i?i iiiijM i .^ujuii , in i own identity is completely merged. Ilapny she! Most women's lives stagnatefor want of an outlet." Douglass carried out his intention of calling upon the Wicses, anil found them living in a house very small, very shabby and forlorn, in the suburbs of the town. However, Mrs. Wiesc and Hilda were more delightful than over, aid Douglass sat on a stiff enne-bottomcd chair on a carpet less floor, and his heart sung within him. It was all so unconstrained and bright and pleasant, f he lather was a musician, a composer, an organist; now, in his feeble condition of body, very querulous and irritable. Hut* Douglass conceived a hope that lie should be able x i * r...: i.:? "\f.. lO UO SOIlU'lllIIIg 1U1 IIIJ* rjrr*. iu i. i? ic.u* was a Herman by birth; ho had never learned to master his wife's mothertongue. But he was exceedingly voluble in his own broken guttural. lie never wearied of pouring his complaints into Douglass' 4h*s. And Douglass listened with exemplary patience?nay, interest?for Hilda's sake. Yes, for Hilda's sake. It had come to that. lie had yielded to a sentimental fancy at first sight; now, at second and third sight, he had fallen in love desnomtelv. with an absorbing energy which colored his whole nature, imparting sinew and muscle to his ambition. It seemed to him now that he had never known before what was genuine ambition. He grew feverish with impatience, lie was a poor man; lie could barely support himself. If lie should support a wife,'it must be in the simplest, plainest way. Would Hilda be willing? In marrying, Hilda would be called upon to make more special sacrifices than most women make when they marry. lie almost feared that she would never like him well enough to make these sacrifices for him. He knew that Hilda was meanwhile studying hard, preparing for her arduous profession. Besides, she was giving lesions in elocution. Boor little thing! How he longed to work for them both! lie was with her constantly; after a while, every evening. Those delicious AAunfiur rnvnltlnc *|>rillg llilja Ml^vaiuu vvnuibj. j unu./iw, mating?anything which furnished an ?xcuse for being together. As for Hilda, die dared not stop to realize how liappy die was in this constant companiondiip. She dared not realize that she simply delighted in lite because it irouglit Douglassto lierat the end of the ong days. Those days were shared almost as inrariably with M. De Bonne^ Fortune, le had followed up his acquaintance as rigorously as had Douglass, appearing it "the Wiescs' dingy little house behind i pair of superb black steeds in goldnounted harness. lie whirled Ililoa off n this showy equipage one fine day. :Ier father stood in the little doorway ooking after thorn, shading l is inflamed yes with his hand. "He is in luf niit Iilda, I can see dat," he said to his wife. ' It vill pe a goot ting for us alio." Mrs. Wiesc's bright face clouded. Her r..? l.m. /tonnilifAi* \rnnlrl lin o >WJ1 L'llUlLC* 1UI 1H*1 uauniav.! ** lifterent one. Nor had she failed to noice the lighting up of Hilda's face when Douglass came and went. Mr. Wiese was right. M. De Ilonne fortune had fallen in love with Hilda, t was nothing to him who she was, vho her people were. She would be ibovo criticism as the Duchess de Bonne fortune. He determined to marry her torn the outset. He considered it hardly nohable that the facts that he was yelow and wizened and lame, and Hilda's enior by certainly fifteen or twenty rears, would weigh in the balance igainst the advantages of his title and lis wealth. - .11.1 if nomn fn tV?n U hi LIIV> * hlirn IU vmuv i v miv mint. It seemed to her that it was her luty to accept him. Her father had said is much to her from time to time during lie weeks that the duke's black chargers iwept his glittering chariot to and from own. ^loreover, the duke made his >fier to the father in the first place, anil he father in repeating it urged the suit n every way. 1 " lie has promise to settle an indebent>nt fortune on you," Mr. Wiesc urged. 'Mitdat you can do vat you choose. \nd he vil set Oscar up in business ven ic has finish school next year. It vil pe i groat ting for us all, Ilildachcn." " Yes," Hilda said, " I suppose it will. [ will marry loin, father;" and having ;ivcn her consen', ?he felt as though she lad locked herself into a prison. That evening Douglass came. M. De 3onfie Fortune, who dined late in the itv_ rarclv snent an evening at the IVicsos1, and it so happoned that ho and Douglass had novel* met. Hilda felt like i traitor as she followed the young man lown to the boat?they had an cngagcnent to go rowing. 'Phe language of ovo is easy of interpretation; she had ead it in his looks and in his voice a lundred times, Besides, she could intorn'ot it by the key of her own feelings. Hut she made up her mind that ho should earn of hor engagement from her own lips. If he was pained, no one but herself should see his paii^ When she had torn him, Douglass rowed on in silence for a while. Then he said, " I have no doubt you have decided wisely. The children of this world are in their generation wiser than the ehilIren of light. You have my good wishes, >f course ; you resign some things?your irt." " Yes,*' she replied, wretchedly. " But a woman cannot always think of herself." They rowed on in silence for mother while. Presently she shivered mid suggested that they should return home. w'*It is so cold on the water toniirlo 11 Pnnv irirl < was cold to tile heart. The tears stood in Mrs. Wieso's motherly eyes, and there was a weight on her heart, as heart and eyes both followed the young man as he strode down the road, having said farewell that night. He was tire mate she would have chosen for Hilda, in spite of waiting, in spite of poverty. Alas! she believed, she feared, that Hilda did not care for M. I)e Honne Fortune. She was taking up the unutternVilp crews: of :l loveless life. She went to her daughter 011 the spur of that conviction, but Hilda put her away with a cold kiss. "Dear mamma, let it he as 1 have decided. It is best. I am not like you; 1 have not the same necessity for loving." The golden chariot with i s coal-hlack steeds drew up in front of the Wieses' little cottage for the last time and whirled Hilda away, after the marriage ceremony had been performed in the carpetless little parlor?whirled her oft' to a life as different from that of her girlhood as though she had indeed died to her former self._ Oflpon their voyage out her husband r ..f Inn* fiinA I luitvuil rxn lOllIHI IIVI V l J lUgf l??-l MW M V?. VII her folded arms, as she gas:ed out upon I the lonesome waste of waters. " Homesiek?" he asked, half friendly, half reI provingly. Then, taking the fact for granted, lie went on: " My child, never look backward; it does no good." To the outward seeming she lived a golden life in Paris of ease ami luxury and grandeur, steeped in all the cxtrava? ganee and display of the second empire. Xor did she fail to carry out her intentions toward her parents in America. Slit* sent them, year by year, out of her superabundance, enough to keen the wolf from the door. Nor was tlie nuke's promise to Oscar forgottan. The boy was established in a well-known banking house alter a year or so 01 aumuonni schooling. But there were times when, in snitc of all this. Hilda De Bonne Fortune ashed herself whether her grand marriage had been worth while! To he sure, she had not been guilty, of the baseness of marrying for her own'mere meat and raiment, but all the same she had learned by a wearisome experience how infinitely less were these than the demands oft he. soul. It bored her .to death to be a fine lady. It seemed to her that she was a veryghost of her former self; that that had died^ong ago, w hen she had closed the door upon the real things of life?the art she had surrendered, the mutual love she might have worn like a crown. She grew quiet and pale, and her husband noticed it, and reproached her for it fretfully. Ilad he not married her for her youth and freshness? She must exert herself; she must go into the world; she must dress in a manner befitting her station. He did not choose his wife to be a dowdy. When he reproached her hfc dropped the mask of liis smooth gallantry. He was as outspoken and as rough and coarse as though ( . -1 .-J !_ il. . f .... lie Had not neon euucaie^in me loreiuosi of modem civilizations. , rI'he poor little duchess was in despair. Whom was there to turn to? She against the hard, cold world! There was a church not far off. A fancy seized her to go tlier". She had seen her ( mother come out of a church sometimes with a wonderful look of peace on her face. She might might find peace too. She took her maid with her?since she never more went quite free now?and strayed into thfc great, quiet cathedral. She drowned down on her knees. She ' thought of a storm, and of a voice that came in the storm, and of the calm that ; followed. And presently there was a ! calm with her. A calm, and a strength that is only ( bom of calm. She went about her ways , serepcly; she ruled her kingdom beauti- J fully. If she had made a grave mistake, . she did not sit down with folded hands . in its shadow. Poor little soul! she had , strayed into hades; but she became the ( light, the tram/Uil moonlight, of the . place. ' # In a day of unfeith and of materialism , and of mammon) worship, she was true . to her own ideals of goodness and Ioveli- ' nos6. She never lost her childlike na ture, her innocien-e, her simplicity. The worldly mcitf and women about her treated her witfl a certain half-pitying reverence. v So she made bar peace with life, with 1 nature, as the pagans would have said, ! and as we Christians still may phrase it, i with a devouter and more filial signifi- ; canee. i Rut in so makintr her reconciliation ' she must also find her way back to her ( old place in the heart of the br ight-faced ' little woman across the ocean who had 1 sent her forth so reluctantly to her mar- 1 rieil life. She had written to her mother \ cold and studied letters during the first J months of her married life; it was not } until she had conquered her disappointment and her loneliness that, she could < write to her as she used to talk to her, ' with the outpouring of her heart. One evening at a crowded reception at ' her hotel, a tall, fair man. with the 1 slightly stooped shoulders of the student, ' made his way through the throng, and, 1 hesitating slightly, bo\v%l presently over her hand. " I was by no means sure it was you, < Madame l)e Bonne Fortune," ])r. 1 Douglass said. And in truth she was < sufficiently altered to have made reeogni- : tion difficult. She had lost her fresh j color; the mild rose bloom had given i place to the pallor of the lily. There < was an outlooking patience now in her : eves, and there tvere shadows under them ( that told of sleepless nights and restless ' days. But if the luster of her youthful i beauty was dimmed, perhaps the splcn- 1 dor of the setting sflfliced to make ] amends. Iler palace was very splendid; I her toilette was a triumph in its way; ! her fair head was diademed with dia- 1 Qlta Iz-mlrml tlin mionn llinf alio t w:us in the world of fashion. 1 " I seem to be in a dream," Dr. Doug- ' lnss wentqp; "or rather it seems tome 1 that it .nust have been in a dream that ! we once took country rambles together * down shady lanes, and gathered wild i flowers, and rowed about in a boat, and did various other rustic things. Part of the dream was that you wore a white * straw hat trimmed with scarlet poppies. Your dress is trimmed with scarlet poppies to-night, I see." "Poppiesare said to be the flowers of dreams. As far as that goes, this scene to-night is the dream for me. I am not accustomed to my grandeur yet; it is still unreal. Oh, l)r. Douglass"?dropping her voice?" how is my mother ? "V\ hen did you see her ?" JL'Oor nuie queen ; mere were tears in j her eyes. Looking into her earnest fare, and so into the soul behind it, it did in- j deed appear as though her line clothes and her jewels were a mask, and as j though she were holding court in a veri- J table place of shades. Dr. Douglass had thought hard things of her; he had called her a mercenary worlding. He took it all back now; he forgave her; he pitied lier. After that, Hilda never rested until she had seen" her mother face to face. I ler conversation with Dr. Douglass brought up the past so vividly that she could not be satisfied without. So in the spring she crossed the Atlantic, with her | little retinue of man and maid, two years ! after her marriage. She knocked at the door of the shabby j attic liouse sue use a to call Home, late j one evening. It was May. In the twilight gloom she could distinguish familiar flowers in the small garden?heart'soasc and daffodils. She stooped and plucked a daffodil, her favorite flower, as sljMfaited for them to open the door. Its fragrance carried licr straight back to her happy, hopeful girlhood. It brought up such a look to her face that when her mother caught her to her arms presently, it seemed to her that her Hilda had never been away at all. Since then years have rolled slowly on. But every spring has brought Hilda across the bicitwav of the ocean. She anil her mother have been oric in heart i ever since. Tl.ey liave lived chiefly in the time of their reunion and in the looking forward to it and the remembering it. Always when the daffodils bloom Mrs. Wieae gathers great bunches of them,.find fills with them the vases in Hilda's room, and makes ready for her darling. And the pale little duchess rejoices in the beauty of the spring flowers, and goes back to i'aris with all the more heart to the wearing of her dark-hearted poppies in winter. Sedan conies and goes, " howling I down" the Second Empire, and sweeping away the fortunes of many of its nobles; butM. De Bonne Fortune weathers the crisis, and Madame l)e Bonne Fortune still holds her shifting court. The child of nature, gifted as are the favored children of our great mother; the ill-favored lord; the coal-black steeds; the daffodils, such as grew on Enna; the poppies that brought forget- i fulness; the yearly visit to a purer air; the Hades tlirone?all these features in an old-world story have come into my . mind as I have written of a Persephone of to-day.?HarperBazar. TIMELY TOPICS. j i A number of English gentlemen have ] annually been in the habit of presenting to the poorer classes in their neighbor- 1 hood a variety of flower seeds and a few ornamenta] shade or fruit trees. The i result is that they have encouraged a ! taste for the cultivation of flowers, and I -nnAm-nnnn r\f r>,anv VI1 ]n (rP< llflS I i MIC il]ipctU(Vjtvt, VI uiiwij been wonderfully improved. Japan loves the post.il card. This ! cheap and useful device was introduced 1 intc Japan three years ago, and last year j over 10,000,000 cards were used. For- 1 cign mail matter is increasing so-fast in \ Japan that before long it must break ] down the exclusiveness of that country. ] In 1875, '11,000 letters were received from ! foreign parts. Last year the number was 158,203. The postal department is J conducted with great honesty, only nineteen money letters being lost last I' year, containing $130, which was made jj good to the owners by the government. I ? # L Tim iTpmbirme bitelv killed in the at- I i tuck upon Nihilists at Kieff, in Russia, j < fell by the hand of a woman, Olga Ras- j sowska. Other Nihilist women 'figured ; in the defence of one of the houses entered j by the police. In another house ? was Mile. Gersefeld, daughter of a gen- ? eral and a distinguished place-holder. j I She was a noted beauty and but eigh- 1 teen years of age. While tiring her pis- j tol at the gendarmes in the viclce, she was wounded by a bayonet and cap- : Lured. On being carried before the chief i ofpolice, she said: " I fired to-day only ? upon a simple gendarme; but on the I next occasion we 11 kill all of you,"as so ^ many mad dogs." The Countess Panin, i admired equally with Mile. Gersefeld for < her beauty, was also arrested. Her husband's mother is one of the ladies of the impress' court. ( I Mr. G. F. Necdham, of Washington, i thinks that the people of the Northern i States make a great mistake in not rais- t ing figs. lie savs that the fruit is grown : successfully in Fn gland, where the fog*y atmosphere is not nearly so fuvora- s jle to it as our sunny land. Northern | J ?lim<?s are even better than southern, | because too great heat is inimical to the f plant, and our days are more evenly '? tempered than those of the South. In ? Jhio it has been found that the fig tree is quickly grown, is easily protected, ? :s a sure bearer and is very prolific. Tbc trees begin to bear when two years >ld, and when they have attained an J tge of four or live years produce from 1 Ihe same area, with less labor, a greater * ind more certain crop than either pota- J :oes or tomatoes. Mr. Necdham. adds : hat what is true of Ohio is true of the ' whole North. I The New York Herald has a long arti- * lie on preachers' salaries, from which ] ire rather that the average compensation ( if clergymen, of all denominations, city ( uul country, is less than $500 a year. , Mr. Bcecher's salary, once $350, is now j $20,000 a year, with a three-months' va- s lation; Dr. Halliday, Beecher's assist- " int, gets $3,000; Talmage receives $12,jfK); Morgan Dix, $15,000; Dr. Win. i Taylor, $i4,000; Dr. Hcpworth's salary is $5,000, which he says is never paid iiim; Dr. Storrs gets $10,000; Dr. Cuy- 1 ler, $8,000; Dr. Ilall, $15,000; Dr. Pot- :. ter, $10,000; Dr. Tiffany, $10,000; Dr. { Morgan, $15,000; Dr. '* ng, $8,000; Dr. Stone, $12,000; Dr. Chapin, $8,000 to J $10,000. The Methodist clergymen in the cities range from $1,000 to $3,000, the j Presbyterian from $1,200 to $10,000, and the Congregationalists from $1,500 to ] $20,000. The Episcopalians average $3,- ' [KK>, the Baptists $2,000 and the Lnitar- ( ians $4,000. 1 i The Friends. A New York paper says: The Quakers, or Friends, are said to have been dimin- ; ishing slowly though steadily during the , last twenty years, in consequence of the , secularization OI many U1 mi- yi ; people ljorn in the society. Their faith : and life are simple, and their ways so gentle and honest, as to he in sharp ] contrast to much of the complicated and j artificial wants and manners of the latter < half of the nineteenth century. Many ] members of the society in Philadelphia, where they are far more numerous than . in a?y other city in the Union, are anx- < ious to correct the decreasing tendency of ( the body, and are zealously engaged in a j movement for the formation of settle- . menu in the West. The Friends have < been so scattered and isolated in that section as to gradually lose interest in , their habits and principles. The inten- : tion is to organize an association which ( shall purchase tracts of land, and sell ( farms and lots on easy terms, cither to Friends or those in sympathy with i them, and to aid such persons as have limited means with money to erect dwellings and develop their scanty resources. The association proposes to lay out roads, put up school and meeting-houses, and push forward all nerd- , fill and worthy enterprises. The West can have no better or more useful or more desirable citizens, for the name of Quaker has become everywhere a synonym ofpurity, order thrift, and benevo- ; lenoe. The whole number of Friends is A-.l -t ..* IO,wmn ,,r wlinni CSliniHU'U ;vi JJIl/JV IM .il< U.U.I.. 90,(100 belong to the United States. An important discovery of a test for diamonds has been made by Professor William Crookes, of London, the full details of whiclr have not yet been made known. lie finds that rough diamonds emit an intense bine light when subjected to the action of i ?- _ i..i . e t_;_i ?. c ?i eieciricny 111 a tuue iroiii wniirii must i?i me air has been exhausted. Diamonds placed among other gems can thus be easily distinguished. FARM, GARDEN, AND HOUSEHOLD. The l'?e of the Harrow In Spring When the spring frosts have ceased, says a New York paper, the condition of the winter grain is frequently very deplorable. After many alternate changes of freezing and thawing, the plants in late-sown fields, or where the stand has not become well tillered, will be found, in great part, nearly drawn from the soil, and with their roots exposed. If thus ' ? <- * !_-l *.1. - ICIt, rue Iirst drying Winu cuuipiei.ro me damage and destroys the weakened plants, This may be avoided by an early harrowing of the ground with a light harrow, the teeth of which should slope backward at an angle of forty-five degrees. These teeth not only stir up the soil and press the roots into the ground, but they draw the soil over the plants and cover the exposed roots. The benefit is two-fold. The damage and threatened loss are prevented, and the plants are stimulated to a quickened growth. After several years1 experience In the use of such a harrow in the spring upon fall grain crops, we do not hesitate to recommend it as a beneficial work, rt is ti question if it would not be advisable to add a rolling to the harrowing, which may be done without trouble by attaching a light roller to the harrow by jhort chains. It would add but little to the draft, but much to the effectiveness ind usefulness of the work. Another use for the harrow at tlii season is to loosen up the surface of plover or grass fields. By thus scarify ing [lie sunaut', UlU gUU-3 luuia aic m-| lueed to spread and thus thicken the herbage. '1 his effect is greatly aided by spreading some fresh need, some new variety, perhaps, and giving a fair dressing of fine manure or artificial fertilizers, mch as guano, nitrate of soda, dissolved hone, salt, plaster, wood ashes, or any Dther that may be chosen or found convenient. As a rule, our meadows and pastures are neglected and consequently poor; but by giving them attention iu this way at this season their condition at haying time may be found much more satisfactory. The harrow is also useful in spreading manure which has been nrricd into the stubble or plowed ground through the winter. The lumps ire broken, the long litter is torn, the heaps are spread and mixed with the oil very thoroughly. If the harrow gathers "the litter into heaps these may he spread again, and again harrowed 111HI Hm wluTli> 5? hvnken 110 and urouer ly distributed. " The roller should follow the hairow in ill these operations. Even should the neadows need no loosening up of the surface, they will at leSt he all the bet:er for a thorough rolling, which will iink all tufts, stones or other impedinents to the mower into the soil, and }ave a smooth surface to work upon. Hontchold lllnta. Cleaning Cistf.kn-Water.?Add two >unces powdered alum and two ounces jorix to a twenty-barrel cistern of rainwater that is blackened or oily, and in a "ew hours the sediment will settle and lie water he clarified and fit for washing, md even for cooking purposes. Meai.y Potatoes.?Select the potatoes ;o that they will' be nearly of a size; do iot put them into the pot until the water loils. When done, pour oft' the water uid remote the cover until the steam is 5011c; then scatter in a half teaspoonful >f salt and cover the pot with a towel. iVatery potatoes will thus come out nealy. Cleaning Dishes.?Dinner dishes and dates which have had greasy food upon hem may be nibbed oft' with a little Inlian meal before putting into water, ['hey are thus prevented from making he water unfit for continued use, while lie meal, saved by itself, is good for the )ig or the chickens. a S-rnnvn Cfmfvt.?A cement oar icularly adapted for attaching the brassvork to bottle-necks, lamps, etc., is made jy boiling three parts of rosin with one >f caustic soda and five of water. The imposition is then mixed with half its veiglit of plaster of paris. It sets firmly n about three-quarters of an hour. It is aid to be of great adhesive power, not jermeable by petroleum, a low conductor >f heat and but superficially attacked by lot water. Let the Beds re Aiked.?It is a bad )lan to " make up" the beds immediately ifter breakfast. The sleeping apartments n the house should be aired every day* k'ds should be opened every morning to the sun and to tnc atmosphere. Bo not >e in too much haste to get the cham-T uf f Im clinnte nnd hlnnkets JL'id 111 U1 UCi . UCb luvoitvviu i?u? ....... )c spread over separate chairs, the matxosses lifted apart, and the pure morning lir be allowed to get into every nook and iranny of the room before the beds are nade. Better to endure a little delay in getting the house in order than loss of lienlth. SeediuR and Fertilizing In Spot*, Mowings and pasturage, when seeded md manured, are treated usually only nice for all, and as a whole. We have >ften wondered why it was that farmers il lowed bare and sandy spots to go unittonded to until the bareness, or the weediness, extended so as to cover a large proportion of the. soil. This is, we know, altogether needless. We are acquainted with at least one extensive farmer and dairyman who, not content with keeping his pastures free from all sorts of brush, never permits a bare or seedy spot in them. If from the settling of water, the effect of frost, or the pawing of animals, a bare spot appears, it is it once seeded, and in some eases even jodded, so that the turf is maintained ....l.,.,.!-,,,, Simil'irlv till" irrsiSS gets thin and weeds begin to appear, manure is applied to that spot, and the J enfeebled grass thus stimulated to reoccupy the ground. In this way a pasture of a hundred acres presents at all times a sod of pure, thick grasses, the iik'* of which it would be hard to find on this side of the Atlantic. Yet there are thousands of farmers as well situated and as well able to have such pastures, j if they only would, anil the same nrineipics are equally or more applicable to mowing lands. The result is not only a matter of looks, but of profit. The cheese of the farmer above alluded to is sought for and taken by the lush-class restaurants and hotels of New York and Philadelphia at a fancy price. Much of its excellencc is doubtless due to his hereditary skill in its manufacture, but certainly j the excellent quality and perfect uni- j forniitv of this cheese arc due, in no small degree, to the fact that it is made of grass-milk, and because no weed-milk or browse-milk ever goes into it?-Rural New Yorker. Tally .Several for the Ton?l. Many gardeners already appreciate the valuable services of the common toad, and afford them protection for their insect-destroying propensities, while as many more perhaps are ignorant of their ADVERTISING RATESt Tan. 1 in. X col K col. 1 ool. 1 Week. $ 1.00 9 5.C0 * 9.00 315 0? 3 44 1.75 7 60 12.25 20.00 8 44 2.50 9.00 15.25 24.00 4 ?? 3 00 10.50 18 CO 27.50 5 44 8.50 11.75 20.50 31.00 6 4* 4C0 12 50 22.75 34.00 it (i i Kfi 1? os oi 05 no g ? 6 00 14.00 26.00 40 00 8 months. 6.60 17.00 82.00 60.00 I " 7.60 19.00 89 60 69.00 6 " 8.60 24.00 48.00 84.00 g ? 9 50 80.00 59 00 105.00 12 " 10 25 85.00 68.00 120.00 gST Transient advertisements must be acoom piniod with the caeh to insure insertion. usefulness. To the latter class it may be interesting to know that toads live almost wholly upon slugs, caterpillars, beetles and other insects, making their rounds at night when the farmer is asleep?and the birds tco?and the insects are supposed to be having it all their own way. English gardeners understand these facts so well that toads tare purchased at so much a dozen and turned loose, and the best of it is the toads generally stay at home, so the gardener is not troubled with buying his own toads over again everv few days. Tim ,.?n t.n1J ??rl Trill nocr JiV/ ivtHi van uv lauivu auu n 111 vaoj learn to know " its master," and come when called; the writer has not only had such pets himself, but could givo other instances of toad taming that have come under his observation. Toads can be made very useful about the house, and will do not a little good in destroying cockroaches, flies, and other 'household pests. They are sometimes known to eat worms, which they grasp by the middle with their jaws, cramming in the writhing ends of tne unfortunate articulates by means of the front feet. Insects are seized and conveyed to the mouth by means of the rapidly darting tongue, which always secures the victim as it is about to fly or ran away.?C. 2t. D., in New York Tribune. The Law 11. The man who nuts on a frequent little sprinkling of salt or bone dust or superphosphate, or any fertilizer that will add an additional rich green tint to the turf, is always recompensed by securing the most conspicuous grass plat in the neighborhood. The best lawn we | ever saw, says an agricultural writer, - ii - A ir_ j t._ was occasionally xreaieu 10 a spruiKuug of diluted blood from a slaughter-house, just previous to a shower. When the soil is soft, run the roller over; it helps the appearance greatly. The application of a little ground gypsum will also freshen up the grass. But above all, never neglect to run the mowing i machine over frequently. Once a week 1 none too often during a wet season.? Scientific American. ? Pedestrian Hints. The common tilings of life Wc little weigh; Amidst much eare and strile Wc seldom stay To think of what concerns Our every-day ItejKiseful life. One learns Not all one may. We've given farming hints, And guides to talk; Wc now give you a few glints 01'how to walk. Always keep to the left; by this course you show a spirit uutrammeled by the thrall of convention, it may lrniaie ' those you meet; but what of that, so long as their irritation hurts them and not you? The above rule majfbe departed from with propriety when the person met also shows an inclination to go to the left. Then, while pretending to do'the same, dart suddenly to the right. With practice, by dodging first to one side and then to the other, you may keep a person at bay for several minutes. Not only is this a good example physically, but it affords you an opportunity to study your vis-a-vis. The proper study of mankind 15 JUiUl. By all means carry a cane. In the hands of an expert it is a powerful auxiliary in making pedestrianism a boon. It should be earned over the shoulder, the ferrule end on a level with the eye of the person following in yoHr wake. If you can contrive to stop abruptly now and then, it will greatly add to his pleasure. If not convenient to carry the cane as above, another favorite fashion is to trail it a few feet behind you. The only objection to this is that occasionally some ungentlemanly individual will tread on your stick and break it. However, the pleasure afforded your fellows in tripping over your cane amply compensates for the loss of one now and then. Prodigies may be accomplished with an umbrella. When one comes to dealing with this, he quits matters mundane ana soars to the empyrean. ^r 1 ~1 J ???lMinl]n clmillrl Vin ?'lion CiOSCU, tUO umuicum jiiukiu carried under the arm or on tlie slioulder. Do this, and the oculist will bless you. When canned under the arm, a feat of surpassing merit can lie achieved by any one after a little practice. This consists in turning half round suddenly. By this you kill two birds with one stone, or rather one umbrella. This exploit always calls forth remark. _ With an open umbrella' great amusement can be obtained by knocking oft' hats, eye-glasses and even wigs. This is rather too common to be recommended as a novelty, to be sure, but it should not, nevertheless, be overlooked. Xever walk in a direct path; it is in better taste to wabble from side to side of the walk. This gives any person bej hind you a diversity of view to the front; | besides which, it exercises the patience of him who would pass you too eagerly. Patience being a virtue, it should be exercised. Of course it would be idle to instruct ladies how to dispose their garments. They are such consummate experts, in this matter that we shall attempt but one reflection. Trains should be worn as far back on the sidewalk as the length of the material will allow. Jn the absence of a train, a shawl can be substituted. Jf any illmannered man should step on your trailing garments of the day, treat him summarily, and in the manner his act deserves. Where there are two or three together, they may live in every heart by walking with due deliberation and spreading out to the breadth of the pave. It is your duty to run into all the I ladies you meet, it has a tendency to i throw back their shoulders, you know. Ladies are ofkcncr round-shouldered than men. Vou would best not attempt this with men. They might not appreciate your well-intentioned attentions. If you have parcels with you, your own good sense will teach you how to dispose them so as to cover all the surface possible. The law of gravitation is your sufficient warrant for this. With an oil can or paint pot you may [ he more potent than the greatest earthly monarch. The possibilities of these acI ces*ories are illimitable, j There might be many more rules laid I down. Hut the above are sufficient. If strictly followed, you will be immortalized?and very quickly.?Motion Transcript. ? Never u=e slang. It may not always npnlv. Listen as A comes into B's room I Says B: " How do you like ray new shoes?' I A ' Oh, they're immense!''