THI
YOL. V. NO. 13
e
The Grave.
Fau^e, stranger, by the hillock green.
And leave a tear of sorrow here ;
Beneath this sward there sleeps unseen
All that was once to honor dear.
He came in health and youthful pride,
lo forge our chains?but, oh, forgive !
He fought, was stricken?here he died,
And here alone his memory lives.
All that was bright in youth he knew ;
All that was noble, generous, brave ;
All that was faithful, truthful, true ;
Yet here he made his lonely grave I
He often spake of home and friends;
Of sisters, sire and mother kind,
As o'er the deep his heart would steal
To scenes he lov'd and left behind.
They came in visions to his heart.
And rapt his soul in bliss away,
To share in what he loved a part
And live once more in childhood's day!
But soon such fairy dreams depart,
And fond delusions fade away ; v
The chill of death is round his heart,
The fluttering spirit leaves its clay.
Pause, stranger! though no tears were shed,
By brothers, sisters, parents dear;
Tet many a heart with anguish bled.
And strangers gave the mourner's tear.
Worth called them forth?they freely flowed
And warmed this cold and silent tomb,
And when the spring's mild zephyrs blowed
These flow'rets grew and here they bloom.
Ob, grave ! thou sacred, lonely bed,
Could all the tears upon thee shed
Be gathered; what a sea of wee
Would spread its dark waves here below !
less UIUU lias utiUptu luu^, u>? tww*
With fond affection's warmest tears ;
They've Sowed from nature's earliest birth,
Will flow till nature sinks in years.
TERRIBLY DECIDED.
"Oh! Sara, you are too absurd."
And pretty Grace Aslileigh laughs her
pleasantest laugh. " The idea of loving
two men at once, and not knowing which
to choose ! I don't believe you at alL "
" Believe or not, Grace, just as you
please." is the soft, serious voiced answer.
Those wonderfiil, deep, hazel eyes of
Sara Prescott's turn all their subdued
richness of color toward lier friend
whilst she speaks, and every feature of
her beautiful oval face wears an impress
of earnest meaning.
"It is true, Grace," she whispers;
" true, true, true ! There are m#mente
when I fael confident that Ralph Curtis,
with his dark, Southern looking beauty,
and his impulsive, reckless ways, is by
far dearer to me. But a visit from
blonde haired, blue eyed Walter Crosbie
changes everything. I am just tossed
about in spirit from one to the other.
Each seems to touch, with mo, a separate
chord of congeniality. I don't know how
it will end. Here they have both been
lingering along at the liotel, Grace, paying
me dailv visits since the first of
July."
"Perhaps," suggests Grace, after a
lUtlo oilunni) tlipv Wftlkl-sl aloUff
HCUV 0XAV.MW, ^ Q
through the twilit paths of the great
lawn which compasses the luxurious
summer house where Sara Prescott lives
?"perhaps jou will end by hating
them both, Sara ?"
"I cannot tell. And yet that seems
impossible."
" Very well," answered Grace; " I
must ask you to have my carriage ordered
round n<5w, Sara, notwithstanding
that I should like to remain and help to
counsel you in your troubles; but please
^mmember that I have seven miles to
(Trive, and that mamma makes a perfect
Rachel of herself if I stay out after
dark."
So Grace presently takes her departure,
and Sara is left to hold converse
with her own thoughts, wliile she begins
a second, and this time a wholly solitary,
stroll among the stately shrubberied
lawns.
Yerv gloomy and miserable those
thoughts are. She recalls, with a sense
of shrinking fear, how intense a passion
for her has recently grown to possess
both Ralph Curtis and Walter Crosbie?
how each has become almost aggressive,
of late, in his fierce request for some
final answer to his eager hopes, and
how the more that either pleads the
more absolute and complete has been
her indecision, her doubt, her perplexity.
No, she cannot make up her mind.
Allow that she is mentally a monstrosity
of womanhood; allow that nobody
has ever been precisely in her unsettled
condition; the fact exists, all the same,
that she loves two men at once, and has
no power to choose between them.
Suppose they should have some
deadly quarrel on her account. Nothing
is more possible. They have grown to
hate each other; of that fact Sara feels
quite sure. They are living at the same
hotel, and are constantly thrown together.
Sara shudders now when she
remembers what evidence she has had of
how fierce a nature each possesses. Oh,
why cannot she be like other women ?
Why must she suffer so keenly from
? what seems nothing but her own gross
I, stupidity and silly irresolution. Just at
this stage of Sara's thoughts, the sound
t\f o ilireelH- behind hfer meets
the young girl's ear. She turns, ami in
the vague dark sees Walter Crosbie's
tall, commanding figure, and fair, Saxon
face. He begins speaking with brusque
suddenness: 44Sara?Miss Presoott?I
have come to bid yon good-bye. *
She clasps both hands together in an
abrupt burst of surprise.
44 You cannot possibly mean it ?"
"I do. I am tired of being played
fast and loose with, from day to day."
"You are not going," Vhe answers,
calmly, after a little silence, and wh'ilst
they were walking on. 441 know by youi
tone and your manner that it is only s
ruxc. You are nc4 going until I give
yon a final answer."
44 And for God's sake," Walter bursts
forth, 44 when is that final answer coming'
Tnerc are times, Sara Prescott, when 1
feel like believing that no more a heart
less coquette than yourself ever drev
breath, and that you. care no more fo:
m? than you care for Ralph Curtis."
44 Pardon me. I think that I heart
my name mentioned."
Xo other tliau Ralph Curtis hiinsel
?jake these words.
3. BE
J
>
_
The vague half lights has now yielded
to the brightening glimmer of a full,
superb moon, whose silver globe hangs
midway between horizon and zenith, i
beautifully pendant in the still, blue, .
breezeless sky.
: Ralph Curtis, having just emerged
from beliind a dark barrier of tall, heavy ;
* * "l 1 __ i
shrubbery round wiiicii tne roau wmus,
I stands facing Walter Crosbie and Sara,
his black eyes and olive-brown countenance
fully visible to them both. Under J
his dark moustache there plays a bitter, |
cynical sniile.
Sara utters a little scream of dismay.
" How unexpected," she falters ; and i
then there is a silence among the trio, I
which lasts until Walter Crosbie harshly .
, breaks it.
"Very unexpected," he exclaims;
I "and yet, after all, scarcely inopportune. \
, I for one am glad that it has occurred.
It gives me, at least, the opportunity of ;
asking you, in Mr. Curtis' presence, Miss
, Sara, how much longer you desire that
this absurd masquerade shall continue.
With whom?to make a sort of epigram
out of the situation " (while he laughs a
low discordant laugh)?"do you wish to
; walk home with, Mr. Curtis or myself ?" |
And then Ralph Curtis speaks :
promptly:
" Echo Mr. Crosbie's question."
! Whereupon poor, weak Sara bursts
into tears.
"Please go away," she murmurs, !
brokenly.
" I can walk home ju6t as well alone I
' by myself."
'Silence.
This time it is a silence that Ralph ;
Curtis ends.
" That is no answer, Miss Sara. "
" Right," states Walter Crosbie, with
j stern emphasis. " It is no answer."
4'l?I can't help it," laments Sara.
" Please go?both of you."
Suddenly a tierce flash shoots from j
the nightlike eyes of Ralph.
"Let there be some decision," he
< cries, addressing Walter. "If Miss i
, Prescott will not make it herself, it is for j
j us to do so."
"I don't understand,"replies Walter. 1
' Ralph draws near him.
; "I beg yonr pardon," he commences,
?flow, on/1 tlion follows
IV kXUIl, uuu ?uv*. ? ,
between the two men an inaudible whis- I
' pered conference which she, who witnessed
it, watches and wonders at. The '
| conference continues for nearly five
. miimtes! and at last Ralph Curtis turns j
toward Sara.
" Miss Prescott, Mr. Crosbie and I !
have formed a compact together. Do :
; r ou see where yonder road emerges i
from those clumps of slirublery ?"
j "Yes," answered the puzzled girl, in
j right puzzled tones.
i "Very well. We desire you to wait
| here. We will disappear. When you
! next 6ee either of us it will be as he ad-!
' vances toward you, doubtless at fullest j
, running speed along the racecourse, j
One will in all probability win the race j
' which we propose to run, but if it proves
a neck-and-neck race, then?then "?
" Then," Walter Crosbie here breaks
i in, "you must walk home alone. Do
you quite understand, Miss Sara ?
j Think, for a moment, and I feel sure
that further explanation will be useless." ;
" I?I?have thought," quivers Sara, j
" and?and?I think?I am sure, indeed j
. ?that I understand." i
| " Very well," exclaimed Walter. " Do i
you consent to such an arrangement, j
strange and wild as it seems ? Reflect j
for a moment before replying."
Sam covers her face impulsively with
both hands, and remains in tliis^ attitude j
j for u brief while. Then she covers her I
face again with equal impulsiveness, and
cries out, in tones almost tierce with in- i
tense excitement :
" I have reflected: and consent."
* ?'* * * ?'
Sara is standing quite alone now, in
the clear, perfect moonlight. Around
her gleam the shadowy lawns, broken i
with their great, dark masses of foliage.
Her eyes are fixed intently upon that
fragment -of opposite road which its
skirting shrubberies allow her to see. ;
i She is listening?listening with strained,
anxious ear, and with every n'erfe on the ,
qui vive of expectantcy.
Presently there is a sound, at what!
seems a considerable distance, of rapid,
advancing feet. Sara's eyes fairly dilate,
and her head stretches itself i'or- j
ward in the wild eagerness of her feelings.
The steps come nearer, nearer?heavy, ;
decisive thuds of vigorous feet against j
hard, unyielding gravel.
And now, without a moment's warning,
the steps cease.. Then there is a j
man's wild, fierce cry: after that, what >
seems a second silence; and then the .
dreadful, crackling, unmistakable sound j
of a pistol.
Just for a brief space Sara stands as !
though frozen into stone. Then she :
rushes down the road, turns the corner !
made?so to speak?by the great shrub-1
; bery clusters, aud darts on, on, with
fleetest speed. A long, quivering, terri;
fied moan leaves her lips, as she pauses
at last by a dark, outstretched form.
" Walter?Walter Crosbie ! for G?h1's
sake what has happened ?"
No answer.
And she sees the ghostly upturned
face, and the long, gory stream that oozes j
from its temple !
Not two yards distant there is another !
prone form. Sara staggers toward it.
Kalph Curtis' swarthy face gleams
livid and ghastly, in the pale moonlight!
41 His fault," lie gasps?44 all his fault!
He stabbed me us I was passing him.
i'1"*" T fivwl?rmt till then. God help
you?poor Sura?poor Sara !"
These, are the last words lie ever
spoke. And so the race has been run ;
and so death has won it.
His Autograph.
During one of the fairs in Paris, some
; years ago, Baron James de Rothschild
wa.: a patron. Chancing to pass a stand
i where some pretty young ladies were in>
stalled, he asked in a bantering tone :
: "Well, my dears, wlmt can I do for
> you?" "Ab, baron," said one, "you
} can give us your autograph." "With
[ pleasure," replied the gallant old baron,
"if you preface it with an agreeable
i sentiment" So the young lady, without
r much ado, wrote on a dainty slip of
paper : "I hereby give to charity ten
1 thousand francs," and the baron immediately
signed his name in full, and sinilf
ioglv paid the amount to the enterprising
Parisian,
:auj
AND PORT
BEAUFORT. S.
A Story from Morniondom.
The Corinne correspondent of the Salt
Lake Tribune tells the following story:
V?n,l nnifa .1 coiiunfuni A stlOrt
M C iiO> U iiav.1 VJ^lUVV M ?v UWUV4V/11.
time ago a woman came walking into our
city on the railroad track, who was observed
to appear much exhausted, and
finally she made her way to the door of ,
one of our citizens, where her strength
gave way entirely, but she had fallen
into the hands of good Samaritans, who
took her in and kindly cared for her. ;
They found her in a most pitiable conch- 1
tion, her feet being frozen so that she i
could not wear her shies and was carrying
them in her hand, and walking bare- ;
foot over the frozen ground. * As soon as
she could tell her story, she revealed a 1
state of facts showing the damning atrocities
of Morwonism. She states that ,
she was born in Louisville, Ky., and (
educated there. About twenty years ago
the married one Richard Spottswood.
At the time of her marriage her husband
was a member of the Presbyteriiui church
and she an Episcopalian. They had two j
children, both of whom are dead. At her I
father's death she inherited $7,000, !
which she gave to her husband. Some
five years ago her husband joined the j
Mormons, she still retaining her original
faith, but immigrated with him to Utah,
where they had lived together ever since. J
Some time ago he concluded to live up ,
to his privileges, and married a nineteen- [
year-old girl, but kept it a secret from j
his wife for about three months. When
she found it out she rebelled, and created
something of a commotion in the old fel-;
low's camp. He then showed the effect j
of his Mormon teachings. He told her j
that she could have the privilege of his j
harem, bought with her money but if
she left she should not have a cent; and, '
further, if she made any fuss about it,
he would kill her, She, not willing to
remain in a house of prostitution, and
fearing for her life, picked up a small j
bundle of clothes and walked to this ,
place, trading all the clothes she could '
spare for necessaries on her way through
the Mormon settlements. She was in- i
tending to continue her way on foot to
Vircrinia City. Xev., where she has a
sister able to assist her. This is her j
story, .which she told in an intelligent, I
straightforward manner.
The Digestive Organs.
Dr. Beaumont, a Canadian, had the
good fortune to observe a singular case
somf years ago. His patient enabled
physiologists, in fact, to formulate nearly
all our existing knowledge of the processes
of stomachal digestion. He was !
one Alexis St. Martin by name, and, }
lucidly for science, he had a hole made
in his stomach through the sudden dis- |
charge of a gun. Dr. Beaumont cured I
him so far that he recovered his health; !
but though the wound healed, the <qpen- ;
ing remained, aud tliroMji it Dr. Beau- j
monfc was enabled to se^me workings of [
a living human stomach in nearly all :
conceivable circumstances. Another cose j
of the same sort?that of an Esthouian :
woman?came under the observation of '
Drs. Schroe8er and Grunewaldt some !
four-and-twenty years ago, and vivisec- :
tors know how Bloncliot and others arti- '
ficially produced the same condition in !
dogs, and thereby gained a certain in- !
sight into the behavior of food in the |
ventral alombio of the tissues. It was ;
found, for example, that in the fasting !
state the walls of the stomach appealed
pale and flabby, and lay close together,
whereupon some people erroneously concluded
that the sensation of hunger was
due to the rubbing of the coats of the
stomach on each other. It was noted
that whenever food was introduced tho ,
8ides of the cavity reddened with the !
stimulated circulation, and its muscular ;
activity was aroused. As Dr. Beaumont!
said, from observations made on Alexis
St. Martin, the chewed food was churn- j
ed in the stomach, and carried round
and round the course of its curvatures.
In this way it was triturated and exposed :
to the solvent action of the gastric juice J
which acted on the albuminous and gel- i
atinous substances swallowed, until j
gradually a milky fluid, known as chyme, !
was elaborated. Thus whs it found out ;
that we take usually about four hours to !
digest a dinner; and it was also discover- j
ed that different kinds of food vary much ,
in their digestibility?notable, for ex- ;
...Ytwlsi fliof fufu and nil take a loner time ;
4T44..V ...... ? 0 ? ,
to digest wheu introduced into the |
stomach alone, but are much more easily ;
got rid of by that organ if eaten with j
salad or vegetable matters.
A Productive Country.
Sicily was in early times notable for
its extreme productiveness, and Italians
hope that with all tlie restrictions on the \
importation of corn removed, and under
an energetic government, a good time ;
is coining?more especially if the brig- i
and nuisance ctpi be suppressed. Of j
the island's 6,000,000 acres, 3,500,000
are under wheat, about 1,500,000 in pasture,
680,000 in vineyards, olive yards,
orchards and garden, and 170,000 m forest.
The rest lies waste or is built on. !
The net rental is estimated at $13,000,- i
000. The church and nobility are the j
principal owners. The agricultural
population consists of voemen, small
farmers and peasants. Of late the condition
of the latto has been greatly im;
proved by the abolition of the sort of
serfdom under which they labored and
the rigid system of entail on large es'
tates.
His Play.
A journalist, formerly of Chicago, but
n >\v r.f New York city, is afflicted -with
j stain.coring, and also with the ambition
to excel as a dramatic writer. A New
York manager recently consented to hear
liirn read a short farce, the sole condition
j being that the reading should not occupy
| more time than the manager did in
smoking the cigar he had just lighted
Away they started, the one in no leas
i hurry than the other, and the reading
! anil smoking were concluded together.
Of course, the question was immediately
put: "What do you think of it?"
Well," replied the manager, "it is not
a bad idea. Father, mother, lover,
daughter, all stuttering, will have a novel
effect." The journalist furiously exclaimed:
"They d-d-don'tst-st-stammor;
it's only ray misfortune." "Oh, then,
it isn't funny at all. Sorry I can't .? !
eept it."
! Remember the energetic and lion &t
[ poor, lor some day they may bo rich.
FOR'
ROYAL CO
C., THURSDAY. M,
r
The Nervous System.
Dr. Dupuy of London,in a lecture upon
44 The Recent Advances in tlie Physiology 1;
of the Brain and Nervous System," t
said : r
The nervous system is not an imnia- ^
terial thing; on the contrary, it is a liv- e
inrr fonrri hip KYihiprt for study and ex-1 f
^ ^ ?
periment. N erves are composed of two v
classes of structures?cells and fibers. ?
Cells are found in the gray matter of the f
nervous centers, and also in some of the a
cranial nerves. These fibers and cells j
may be distinguished by the microscope. n
As the fiber leaves the cell it is coated *with
a substance which insulates it, and -j
this coating is nothing more than a svs- v
tem of cells or bags. Nerves are divided ;
into two classes, those of common and of c
special sensation. Nerves are also di- ?
vided into those of sight, hearing, smell- ,]
ing, motion, etc. In addition there are i 0
the nerves which animate the blood ves- n
sels, making them expand or relax, thus >
regulating the blood supply. The real .
nature of the substance carried by the ?
nerves has not yet been discovered, f
Some have argued that it is electricity, t,
but this has been disproved by experi- fl
ments which show that it lias not the n
same nature. Electricity will travel over t
a wire which has been broken, provided j
the ends of the wire are joined, but il a c
nerve fiber has been broken, no coinmu- f
nication takes place through it. Another ?
proof that it is not allied to electricity is ?
the difference in the speed of the two r
forces. Nerve force travels at the rate of . f
only five hundred feet per second, while i a
electricity has a much greater speed, j ?
Then, too, the effect upon the nerve is x
not instantly removed as soon as the j s
force ceases to act. This is illustrated > g
by the manner in which the effects of y
strong light are felt for some time after a y
flash of lightning lias passed away. i ^
Reflex action is an important part i
which the nerves play in tneir control 01 ; a
the body. It is stronger than the will. t
A man once undertook to swallow poison, j y
but reflex action caused him to throw it
up before it reached the stomach. The I ^
poison burned the aesophagus so badly x
that for some time after, no matte! how ^
much he wished to do so, he could not j j
swallow food, reflex action being stronger ^
than his will. An entrance was made i c
into his stomach and food introduced, \
and every time this was done saliva col- s
lected in liis mouth, exactly as if he were ^
chewing food. The same prinoiple is a
shown in one's endeavor to hold his p
breath. He may succeed in doing so for j
a few seconds, and even until the heart ?
has apparently ceased to beat. Mean- | r
while the blood has become charged with 1 ^
carbonic acid gas from lack of oxygen, j ,
This causes the nerves to exert their i ^
power suddenly, as the gas is deadly j
poison to them, and the person is forced *
to breathe against his will by their vio- .
lent action. The ability to recall past
sensations and scenes is due to the prin- i
ciple that when an impression is made ]
upon a ueMrafcceli something is retained ! t
which is exactly as heat is latent ! r
in iron or gtOhe. When n man dreams ; 1
he draws upon this supply. i 1
* -
I
He FounA a Friend. i
|
A relative of the well kuowu comedian, ; 1
William J. Florence, tells the following : j j
Many years ago, while Florence was j
under on engagement at the Winter tiar- | :
den Theater, New York, he invited a j j
friend to dinner at a Broadway restau- ; 1
rant. Botli \^:e hungry and they or- ; *
dered a plentifm supply of food. When ; j
their appetites were satisfied, Florence
called for the bill, and to his utter dis- j
may discovered that he had 110 money.
In changing his clothing in the morning, 'J
he neglected to take the mouey from his 1
discarded pantaloons. lie told the friend , (
of the fix lie was in, and asked him for a j'
loan. Mortified and chagrined, he an- j f
swered that all he had was just sufficient I 5
to pay his fare home. Then the actor (
called the restaurant keeper and told him j 1
the truth about the money. The quickly 1
excited man raved and 6tormed at Flor- 1
ence, saying that he had resolved not to j
be swindled by auy one, and that be j'
should send for the police. !
At this time a short, stout old gentle-; (
man stepped up to the proprietor, and s
firmly said :
"How dare you speak to a gentleman
in the way you have done ? His mistake '
is a perfectly natural one, and such as I
might occur to any man. I am ashamed j (
of you ! I'll dine no more in your house, l.
nor permit my friends to do so in the ; '
future. Here take this!" and the old 1 (
gentleman took a fifty dollar note from a ,
fat wallet and handed it to the discomfit- 1 1
ed landlord, saying: " Deduct the '
amount of the young man's bill and re- j ,
turn me the change." \\
The proprietor's apologies were un-1
heeded. He handed the old gentleman i
S47.50, and again essayed apologies.
When in the street Florence handed j
his benefactor his professional card and j
address, adding that he should certainly
reimburse him. The old gentleman's ;
indignation quickly passed away, and j
beginning to smile, he 6aid :
" That's all rigiit, young man ; 1 ve
been trying to pass that counterfeit bank I
note all day."
Mother Goose.
Dear old Mother Goqse ! Which of us 1
has not enjoyed her melodies V It seems j
she was not a myth, but a real woman, ,
; mother of six and stepmother of ten cliil!
dren. She wrote, and no wonder,
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, '
She had so many children she didn't know what
to do.
The Rev. J. M. Manning, of Boston,
j told the Sundayschool of the Old South '
Church, on Christmas day, that she had j
once been a member of that communion.
Her maiden name was Elizabeth Foster, j
and she married Mr. Isaac Goose. She
lived to be ninety-two years old. One of !
her daughters married Thomas Fleet, a ;
j printer, who lived in Pudding Lane. j
j This gentleman wrote down the rhymes J
1 and songs he heard his mother-in-law j
sing as she stepped briskly to and fro i
about her work and after a whlie he
f printed them in a little book which bore
this title: "Songs for the Nursery ; or, :
c Melodies for Children. !
iUVJlilCi VJVWuv w -
Printed by T. Fleet, at his Printing
1 House, Pudding Lane, 1716. Price, two 1
coppers."
| Mother (loose ! Hear old friend ! How i
little you knew how many dimpled faces i
would laugh over your s<inga ! Blessings ;
on your memory ^Christian at Work. .
r t
MMERCIAL.
AltCH 1, 1877.
i'karity Ball Toilets
There is apt to be a certain sameness,
lotwithstanding the variety, in ball
oilets, says the New York Tribune, !
eviewing tliose at the charity ball in
hat city. Despite what is said of the
xtravagance of women, the fact is that 1
he majority indulge in evening dress at, s
erv uncertain intervals, and try as much 11
m possible to have them of a style and t<
abric which will not go out of fashion, t
lid that will allow making over. This j 1
imits the choice more than can be im- i
gined by tliose who have hud no ex- .1
>erience in making "both ends meet." ]
ftiis season, ball costumes may be di- i
ided into three classes?the fresh 1
Frisian costumes; the "limited in
ome" dresses, carried over from year 1
o year by persons who cannot afford i
Iressmakers' charges for alteration ; and j 1
?ld but handsome toilets combined and ?
ltered over in the prevailing fashion, j1
sever in tlifc history of clothes were the" 1
iifference more marked between the new 1
ml the old than now. Puffs and gathers, 1
ullness and drapery, conceal more than , J
liarity, but the strict " princesse " style j * >
dmits of none of these, and not only ex- (
cts freshness and richness of fabrics for j 1
lie stately dress, but newness of trained, I j
A " ~ ** ?1--?V/x Mwi'naAcca /Irnua 1
Rce-OTmmeu bmxuii ju pi nivxoo^ mvo? j r
an be made to fit smoothly over old
nshioned cotton skirts, gathered in at
he waist; and with new dresses, there- ^
ore, ladies have trained underskirts 1
uade with deep yokes, and a Spanish j ^
lounce attached to a plain gored strip, so j 1
8 to form a fan-shape at the back, like '1
he dress. These skirts are trimmed i \
nth Smyrna insertion and lace, and : ]
trictly follow the outline of the dress I J
kirt. This smoothness.of outline, only I
>roken by a double plaiting, a row of '<
>utton8, a cascade of lace, and ruflled j1
rain at the back, distinguishes all the '
ater styles of evening and ball dresses, I *
ind separates them unmistakably from ; J
hose which have done duty during pre- | '
ions seasons. 1
New toilets have very long trains, but j j
he bodice and sleeves are anything but J'
miform. Some are made very nigh, 1
nth soft plaitings and inside lace ruffs, '
n the Elizabethan style. Others ore
ery low?so low as to suggest the '
orslet and breast-plate more than the 1
>odice, and are destitute of sleeves, a 1
imple baud over the shoulder leaving '
he arm entirely bare. The medium 1
ind heart shaped bodices, the demi-long ! 1
leeves, and puffed and tied back sjprts j
>elong to past modes, and tell as plainly 1
is words of the necessity for retrench- 1
nent or economy. Fashion runs to exrein
es just now, accepts no compromises,
10 halt measures, but insists upon its ;
otories doing and daring all.
The Spitz Demon. 1
<
The vicious and venomous little Spitz
ins gathered another victim. A few i
lays since, says the New York Herald,
i little boy, ten years of age, who had
>een bitten by one of these dangerous
lousehohl pets two months before, died j
n the customary terrible agonies of j
1 1 1- nrii ?I
lyuropnowa. me ?<uuc ouiuuu uviuiv
t was killed bit the mother and brother
>f the little victim and another person,
lot a member of the family. It is to
is sincerely hoped that no bad results
nay follow in these remaining cases, and ,
t is not believed that any of the parties j
lave occasion for alarm. The sufferings I
ilrcady caused by the sly, spiteful, !
reacherotr&^Jittle Spitz should gain for
lim a rope collatftaith a stone attached, ;
md a bath in th^ffver wherever he may
le found. He is not wanted among us
uiy more than the tarantula, the scorpion
or the rattlesnake. If people foflnd
me of these latter in the streets they 1
vould dispose of it on short notice, re-,
^ardless of whose pet it might be. They
jhould in like manner welcome the war-!
lcring little Spitz demon wherever he
nay be found, with ready hands, to the j
list available hospitable grave. If peo-1
pie love such pets let them keep them in ;
:heir own arms. Then if the darlings
L>ite anybody we shall only have fewer
simpletons in the world. The popular j
irv should be " War to the knife on the I
mapping Spitz."
Foreign Loud Owners.
From Mr. John Bright's return of the j
owners of land in Ireland, we learn that j
36,114 people own less than one acre i
apiece, while 7,089 own from one hun-'
Irou to five hundred acres; 4,083 own
from 1,000 to 2,(XX) acres; 432 own from
5,000, to 10,000 acres; 185 own from
10,000 to 20,000 acres; ninety own from
20,000 to 50,000 acres; fourteeu own from
KA /\AA 1 i \A AAl \ mnl fltrOP HU'll
Jl/jWU IU XUVjVW ill.Xt oy uuu ? " -100,0(X)
acres and upward. These figures
are strikingly suggestive, but they only
illustrate the fact that the soil of Ireland |
is owned by a comparatively small number
of people. In the United Kingdom,
London excepted, 852,438 people possess
179,213 acres, which is a fraction over
one-fifth of an acre each; but twenty- |
eight persons own 5,510,581 acres, which
is over 116,800 acjes each; forty-seven I
persons own between 50,000 and 100,000
acres, and 169 own from 20,(XX) to 50,000 '
each. The people in Ireland who own i
five hundred acres and upward hold :
87.9 per cent of the land, while m Great j
Britain this class hold 77.3 per cent, of j
the land. Those who own five hundred i
acres and upward in the United Kingdom
hold 81.7 per cent, of the total area.
Four-fifths of the land of the United
Kingdom is actually owned by less than
19,246 persons.
A Singular Marqnis.
The Marquis of Waterford annoys
roilipor manoorprB 1 w nlwavs rid
v
ing third-class, as it diminislies their
first and second-class travel. One day
the marquis appeared at Waterford
station and b: light a third-class ticket to
Dublin. The railway men thought to
teach him a lesson, and for that purpose
sat a chimney-sweep down beside him in
the car, thinking to drive him out. The
marquis surveyed his traveling companion
tor a moment and then started for the
ticket office. " Give me a first-class ticket
to Dublin," said he. They thought they
had him sure, but he 6implv returned
to the third-class car, and making
the sweep a present of the ticket escortrd
him and his brushes to the first-class
carriage, and leaving hipi there re turned
to his ffiv >rite comppvuneot.
RIBI
$2,00 per I
DEADLY HOMES IN BRAZIL.
The Experience' of Four Tliounand CJermnn
Colonial*?N'enrly Half of the Number Die ,
within Five Month*.
The experience of a party of Germans
vho went, in the spring of 1874, and
settled near the sea coast of Brazil,
?ives an idea of colonization in that
.'ountry. Thomas Diller, one of these, I
:ells his story under oath. He says that
lis and seven other families of Nuremjurg
signed a contract with a Brazilian
igent, agreeing that each member of the :
jarty should pay $25 in Prussian money
or his passage across the Atlantic, and,
ifter their arrival in Brazil, work for
me mil reis (al>out fifty cents) per day
or one year; afterward to receive twen- ,
:v-five acres of laud for each family, for [
vhich they were to pay $50 in three
rears. They were to be kept supplied
.vith provisions at half the regular
jrices. The agent said that the land
vas under cultivation, and that block
louses would be ready to receive the j
*>lonists. They sailed from Antwerp on
May 25, 1874, with five hundred other j
olonists, on the ship Alvinio. They '
irrived safely at San Salvador, the capi:al
of the province of Bahia, Brazil.
I'hence they went to the colony called
rierra del Oro, the owner of which is
Baron Munis, of Bahia. A larger number
of colonists had arrived there two
nonths before. Instead of cultivated
and and block houses they found a
wilderness filled with snakes, tiger cats,
nonkeys and parrots. The colonists already
there were sick, dejected and living
in tents made of viues and leaves. :
Many had died and all were anxious to
$et awav.
For a week after Diller's party arrived
the rain poured steadily. The J
eaves kept the water from coming in at
the top of the tents, but it flowed in i
under the sides. Their tools, which had
been left at Cumandale, arrived after
two weeks. They then built more subjtantial
dwellings, usin$ mud instead of
leaves; but these huts were damp and
unhealthy. Wood became scarce, and,
to eke out subsistence, a wild root, of
which the Brazilians make flour, was
?aten. Many fell sick, and during the
flrst month over three hundred died.
Of Diller's party, his own child and two 1
Jther cliildren died. At the end of the i
month a steamer from Bahia brought
provisions. The meat was bad and the j
flour poor, and very high prices were
asked for both. About this time a third
ship load of colonists arrived. The men
worked at clearing the woods and making
roads. With the exception of a few
planters, the surrounding country was i
uninhabited. A similar colony owned
by the same baron, and named Munis
after him, was a day's journey off. Sev- j
eral families took their twenty-five acres
of hard, woody land and 'tried to raise
potatoes and cnions. The blazing sun
allowed the sickly plants to grow to a t
height of two inches and then dried i
them up. The myriads of red ants, an !
inch in length, completed the work of j
destruction.
Diller's party remained in the colony
from July to December, 1874 During
that time 1,830 of the 4,000 colonists 1
died. During three months it rained f
steadily, and in the other two months '
* 1 ~?1 ? 'I'Uaw wnooitrn/1 i
tiie neat was miense. iucj
their one mil reis each a day as agreed
upon. In the latter port of December,
however, Munis stopped payment. They j
refused to continue working, and wished I
to abandon, ^he settlement Munis j
would not permit them to go, and
brought from Bahia five hundred police 1
officers to prevent departures. Those t
who tried to escape were driven back or j
arrested, and imprisoned at Cumandale. j
The object of the Germans was to get to :
the Gerriian consul at Cumandale and
have him relieve them, and the Brazi.iaus
were determined to prevent this, j
One day Petrus Krause of Diller's party
attempted, with Iris family, to pass the
lines, and refused to go back when told
to. A son, Jolian Krause, attacked the j
guard with a knife, and was shot and in- {
stantly killed. Iu another effort Johan j
Leipp was killed. Many others were
injured. Finally four men reached i
Julius Meyer, the representative of the j
German consul at Cumandale. He immediately
went to Tierra del Oro and
demanded that his countrymen be released.
All opposition was at once withdrawn
by the Brazilians, and the Germans
commenced to go away in parties
of thirtv and forty at a time. Several,
hondred remained behind, but subsequently
sailed for Europe.
How the Beaver Works.
When a beaver finds a tree which
seems suited to his purpose, he stands
erect, steadying himself by means of his
tail, and cuts a groove around the trunk, i
This groove he gradually makes deeper
and wider until, when the tree is nearly
cut off, it has very much the shape of an
hour glass. Then he goes round the
tree, turns his head on one side, just as
yon have seen an old wood chopper do,
and makes up his mind which way he
wants the tree to fall. In a short time
he has it down and eut up in pieces a
yard or so in length. These pieces are
carried to the place where the dam is to
be built. The beaver fastens tliein
flip crrnund and fills around
uiui IJ m - 0
them with small sticks, stones anil mud.
! Perhaps yon have heard that the heaver
piasters the mud down with his tail, but
i this L> said to be untrue by those who
; have watched him at his work. He
strips off the bark from the wood he
1 cuts, and hides it away at the l>ottom of
the dam, weaving it in and out between
I the logs to strengthen the foundations.
' The beaver's dam is sometimes two or
' three hundred yards long and ten or
1 twelve feet thick. His house or lodge
' looks very much like a savage's hut, and
is built with under ground passages coni
necting with the water. These are so
; far below the surface that they cannot be
closed with ice, and the beaver can al!
ways go out to get his food without
1 being seen from the land.
i
Their First Difference.
" Before we were married," said he to
a friend, "she used to say 'bye-bye' so
sweetly when I went down the steps."
" 4 - 1 ?1">* '1.w\a gIia envW nskod
"Ami now nuut vawo oiiv
the friend. "Oh, just the same," exj
claimed the man?' buy, buy !' " ,
i "Ah, I see," said the other "she only
I exercisgs ft little different ' spell' pyer
' 1 OIL,"
JNE
? t .
TmFFW tM
: 4 t-lf.i* ; iim
Single Copy 5 Cents.
. <:?-? * U'
?_t
"It." c
I i . t)K /
If my love bad smiled on me
With shining brow and dashing e t,
I had ta'en her to my heart? . Vow'd
for aye the lover's smart:
Praised her tiny, dainty hand !
Swore t' obey her least command '
Yes ! this surely had been so
If she'd smiled on me below.
(But she didn't!)
If I lov'd as men have lov'd,
Sorely then my fair had proved
Constant, tender, "witching, fairIn
her beauty past compare.
If I bore such fire within,
She'd be all my kith and kin ;
I'd do what my heart approv'd.
If I lov'd as men have lov'd.
(But I don't!)
> , ):
Items of Interest
Bear and forbear?The bear and his
hunter.
Be polite, and associates will not notice
that you are not handsome.
The question is, did the horseman .
that scoured the plain put soap in the
sand?
Many of the white men in California
will not sit at a hotel table with a China4
man, but will follow him two miles after
dark to borrow money of him.
It has been officially decided that the
reason why a law book is like a frolicsome
ram jumping over a fence, is because
they are both boundin' sheep.
A gentleman observed to another that
an officer in the army had left his house
without paying his rent "Oh!'.' exclaimed
the other, "you mean the lefttenant."
Moody has found a girl in Chicago,
sixteen years old, and ordinarily intern- * '
gent, who had never heard the name of '
Christ except in profanity, and who had
no idea who he was.
Borne of the scientific papers are again
agitating the question : " How far off br
the sun ?" As long as it is so far away
that it calls for fife hods of coal a day to
run a fire, the question has no particular .
charm for most men.
A Parisian has been arrested for a ' *
novel offense. He stuffed old clothes -V
with straw, etc., filled the pockets with " ''i
clay, and threw the manikin into the *<
Seine, where it floated and deceived phil- i<
anthropists and ancient mariners. .
A San Francisco lawyer received a
wooden jackass as a Christmas gift from
his fellow practitioners in the police
court, and he says : " I know how hard
'tis to pick out suitable presents, but I
almost believe an insult was intended."
y
An editor out West became martial and
was made captain. On parade, instead
of "Two paces in front?advance," he
unconsciously exclaimed: "Cash?a
year in advance." He was court martial
ed and sentenced to read his own
papers.
In the village of Harbottle, Northum- '
berland, England, no child has died during
the last twenty years; a farmer and
his three shepherds have between them tr
forty-seven children, and during the past
thirty years not a death has occurred in ~ .
their families.
The improvements in long range fife :: 1
arms have made the bayonet and sabre
comparatively innocent playthings. During
the Franco-Prussian war only twenty- t
one men were killed on the German side v
by the bayonet and lance, and but si* fla
cavalry charges. :l . ( ! ;
"I had nine children to support, and
it kept me busy," said Smith to Jones,
as they met; " but one of the girls got
married. Now I have" " Eight V
interrupted Jones. " No ; ten?counting
the son-in-law," said Smith, with a
sigh which might have been heard afar
Oil.
When Dr. James W. Alexander was on
his dying bed, some one said: "I hope
Sou are able to say: ' I know in whom I
ave believed.'" "" You do not quote it
right," was the reply; "it is : *1 know
whom I liave believed.' In an hour like v
this I would not have even a ^repoeitioi
between me and my Saviour,'
There are three superior officers in the ^
German army who have served for more
tlian seventy years?the emperor, who
received a' grade duriug childhood,
Marshal Wrangel, who reckons eighty
years of service, afid Lieut. Gen. Maliszerwski,
commanding the invalides, who
has served seventy-two years.
A new amusement.is in vogue among
Mexicans in San Francisco. v They wind
handkercliiefs tightly around the blade?
j of their knives, leaving a quarter of an
j inch of the points bare. Then thev
light with these weapons, and, although
the wounds cannot be deep, they are
often numerous and painful.
The number of sheep in Australia at
: the close of 1875 was 63,845,719, or
more than double the number in Great
! Britain. The cattle were 6,884,527, also
a much larger number than the mother ,
country possesses. The horses had'increased
to a million, and three millions
; and a half of acres were under cultiva'
tion.
A French court has compelled the
A /ak I)IA
family 01 a peasant u? ^w *?.
absolutely necessary expenses of bis
funeral. The items were: Three
priests, $8; tolling bell, $1.20; draping'
the altar, $3; litter, $5; cloth for signa- *
tnre table, $2; female mourners, $10;
burial fee, eighty cents; coffin, $2; four
. bearers, $2.40; tapers, $8.20; hearse,
i $24; "a day's work," $2; total, $68.60.
, Directions have been issued by the
British admirality for the use of slaked
lime for the preservation of those por- .
tions of the framework of iron vessels f
which are constantly exposed to the so*
tion of sea water. It is to be plaoed on <J
the iron frames, and in the water contained
in such compartments, bilges and
i wings as cannot be dried out sufficiently
I to allow the application of preservative
i paints.
A child's bed should slope a little
from the head to the foot, so that the
head may be a little higher than the
foot; but never bend the neck to get the
t head on the pillow. This makes tbo
: child round shouldered, cramps the
veins and arteries, and interferes with
, the free circulation of the blood, iiven
when a child is several years old the
pillow should be thin, and made of
hair, not feathers.
v
J.