The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, May 01, 1879, Image 1
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VOL. XXXVII. CAMDEN, S. C., M AY 1, 1879. NO. 41.
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?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!''