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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., JULY 24, 1879. VOL. 111.-NO. 75. TRIP LIGHTLY. Trip lightly over trouble, Trip lightly over wrong; We only make grief double By dw4Uing on it long. Why clasp Woe's bauds so tightly? Why sigh o'er blossoms dead ? Why cling to forms unsightly ? Why vot -ok joy instead ? Trip lightly over sorrow, Though all the days be dark, The sun may sline to-mnrrow And gayly sing the lark. Fair Hope has not departed. Though roses may have fled; Then never be down-hearted. But look for joy ii4tead. Trip lightly over sadness, Stand not to rail at doom; We've pearls to string of gladnoss On this side of the tomb. Whilst stars are nightly nhining, And heaven is ovoi hoad, Encourage not repining, But look for joy instead. The Strolling Players. " Can't you listen to reason tor a inhi uto?" asked Mr. Miles Forrester, as he com' pelled his handsome nephew, Gerald, to sit down besides him on a rustic bench in the garden. "For one minute ? Certainly, uncle," replied the young fellow. "Tinic's up? 'rhe minute's expired. Let's talk nonsense. "You are incorrigible, Gerald." "No, air I no, sir I Why don't you look on life with a little of my philosophy ? Con fess, my dear uncle, that you haven't been so very happy ; that you are not very happy now, in - spite of your wealth, your flne house, your real estate and California in vestments." "Very true, Gerald. And if this world had been.intended as a great playground I should confess that I had mistaken my ca reer. Your father was a wild dreamer like you: visionary, unstable. lie had no steadi ness, even in his profession. "'1He left some good pictures, though," said Gerald. "is subjects were so eccentric that lie could not sell them. I was almost his only patron. My house Is full of things that no body would buy." "The ordinary fate of genius," remarked Gerald. "But had he gone into trade as I (lid, his wife would not have died of privation and a broken heart." 'Poor mother I" "Half of these wrinkles on iy brow," pursued the old gentleman, "were not traced by age, but by care. The care occasioned by your father and yourself. But a truce to all this now. I am amply rich to allow you, if I chose, to follow your fancy wher ever it may lead you. But I am a man of principle, as rigidly wedded to what 1 know to be right, as you are to your profitless day dreams. If you will not do as I wish you I withdraw my countenanc3 and aid, and leave you to work out your own salvation. I have laid two propositions before you; one to go into business, in a respectable house, 1 to furnish the capital; the other to accept the hand of Mrs. Rashton, young, rich, and pretty. I do not insist on your acceptance of both of these propositions, but you must take one or the other, or we part." "The first, my dear uncle, I decidedly decline." "But you'll marry the widow; she comei here to-day, you know." "Thank you for the widow; I'll keel clear of her." "Incorrigible boy i What do you pro pose to do with yourself ?" "I haven't exactly decided, uncle. But the world offers a wide field to a gentleman of my figure, taste, accomplishments and education. I might be a strolling player, or a traveling portrait painter; or I have thought of reviving the traditions of the el der ages, and going about like Homer, sing. lag my own verses to my own music." "Then you are determined to leave me?' said the old gentleman, rising. .Poor, foolish, headstrong boy." "I shall not trouble you long, my deal sir," said the young man. "But at leasj say that we part friends," lie added, hold ing.out his hand. 'lfiriende 1" said the old man, with a teai ini his eye. "I love you better than any. thing else in the world. But my principles are adamantine." "So arec mine," said Gereld. "Good-b3 till we meet again." They shook hands in token of amity, anm went in different directions, Gerald stroll. lug along through a fine oak grove. Hie was roused from his abstractilon, how ever, by the sound of merry laughter. Ad vancing cautiously, ho soon obtained a viev of an open glade in the wood, and of group of persons who had taken- possessior of the spot. And it was not long before he knew the group to be a lot of traveling act, ore. Among thorn was a long-faced, mel ancholy man, in a seedy black suit, seatec beside a buxom, smiling damsel, and stout, ruddy-checked gentleman, flashily at tired, who sat opposite a second trir-muil damsel, arid the whole party were busiha engaged in tattling, laughing and devour ing a miscellanegus feast, consiatingof ham cold chicken, crackers and bottled ale. I was a little pionic party, in short. The breaking of a dried branch on whiicl he had incauitiously rested, -revealed thi presence of Gerald, "Ha I" cried the red-nosed man, with theatrical start, "whom have we here? Ad vance friend, and give the countersign." "My friend;," said Gerald, advancing "excuse my interrupting your festivity. beg you will not let me disturb you. I in truded accidentally.4' "Perhaps rou have as good a right her as ourselves, 'said the red-nosed man, witl a merry twinkle of the eye. "Are you th owner of this charming spot?" "No, sir," replied Gerald, with a smile "I am only the nephew of the owner c this spot ; and allew me to bid you as auel of a welcome to this j 'lace as I, only th nephew of the proprietor, may extend'. Dii I feel at liberty I would ask you into th houise." "Eniough said, young gentleman t'~ erie the red-nosed man, with a waive ofg hi bread,knife.- "And for the hospitality c the forest, sir, permnit us to reqtite you1x lnvitIglsou to it seat at our bostd-wr G9rald sat de dik$ t strange, rdet rf end*A 0lyeci at home, noi do sidTte rednoe man, using the same quaint phraseology he I had already adopted, "in return for your i confidence (Gerald had mentioned his name) let us inform you who we are. We are a a company of traveling Thespians-in other v words, strolling players. I rejoice in the I name of Horatio Blvvins, and am the mana- I ger of these unmanageable ladies and gen tleien. That melancholy mian in the 'suit of sables' is our low comedian. That black eyed lady at your left, Mr. Forrester, is Miss Jones, the best chambermaid in the country. The other lady, Miss Doxie, is I our walking lady. My friend in the red waistcoat does the high tragedy. Mr. Wolf, Mr. Forrester. The rest of our troupe have gone on before to engage a hall in the coun- I ty town-to post the bills-to propitiate the editor-and to bespeak a favorable hearing 'for us and for our tragedy.' " "Ah, you are happy, my friends," said Gerald; "while I-" "Are you unhappy?" cried the dark-eyed r girl, laying her hand lightly on the young man's arm. The most miserable (log alive I cried t Gerald. "flow," exclaimed the manager, in his deep stage tones. "My uncle wants to set nie up in busi. ness." "Hang businessI" said the ruddy cheek- 4 ed gentleman, Mr. Wolf. "And he wants me to marry a rich widow." "Hard-hearted old hunks I" cried the black-eyed girl, winking slyly at the trage dian. "In short," said Gerald, "we nust part. I have been casting round for a profession, c and I don't see that I can do anything bet ter than turn actor." "Sir," said Mr. Bivvins, "your good at ar led us here to-day. You're born to shine upon the boards, sir. Are you up in any parts, Mr. Forrester?" "I know fifty plays by heart." "Romeo, for instance?" "Every word of It." "Then we're in luck I" cried the manager. "What do you say, Mr. Wolf ? * Two first appearances for one night I It'll draw like a pitch plaster. There'll be a twenty dollar house. You know ybu only consented to I do Romeo to oblige ine. Well, you take Tybalt, and let Mr. Forrester take Romeo." t Mr. Bivvins then explained to Gerald 1 that they .vei'c to play Romeo and Juliet that night to introduce a debutante, Mrs. Mortiner, to a generous and discerning pub lic. Mrs. Mortimer was a romantic young widow, of splendid talents, who had run I away from the tyranny of her friends in New York, and just joined the company. t She was beautiful and accomplished. Gerald did not see her face till he en countered her upon the stage at night. Then lie was dazzled by her charms. They were not those fictitious beauties which the close glare of the footlights reveal in all their treachery to the actor, though they t strike the distant audience with bewilder ment. No pearl powder and carmine, but the roses and lilies of youth and health adorned her lovely face. Her rounded arms and shoulders shamed the pearls that rested on them. Amid the awkw;Ard figures that t surrounded lier, she moved with the grace c of a queen. It was not difficult for the Romeo of the evening to feign an attach ment to so beautiful a creature, and before the curtain fell, amid thunders of applause, he found himself pleading the cause of a real passion. And from this moment he wooed the lady in downright earnest, and was ultimately accepted. She never asked what his pros pects were, nor did he inquire into her an tecedents. It was enough for the giddy pated fellow that she was beautiful, and loved him. They had about a hundred dol lars between them, and with that to live up on, until something turned up, they con cluded to abandon the strolling company without beat of drum, and, eloping to New York, they there got married. Before the month was out they liad run to for want of~ funds. Then Gerald, with starvation staring him in the face, roamed New York in search of employment. Dis appointment met hint everywhere. Noth.. ing remained but to throw himself on the generosity of his uncle. He communicated his project to his bride ; she acquiesced in thne arrangement, and, raising funds by pledging a gold watch, they started for Forest Hill. Mr. Forrester was reading in his library when the couple were announced. He dropped his paper, and the couple fell at lisa feet. "Uncle, pardon me 1" exclaimed Gerald, "for running away without your consent." "Uncle-my uncle I" cried Mrs. Forres ter ; "be an uncle and please pardon Ger ald!I" "Get up, you blockhead I you'll burst thme knees of those ridiculously tight panta Ioons!" cried the old gentleman. "Julia, don't be making a fool of yourself I" "Julia ?" cried .Gerald - how did you learn her name ?" "Oh, she's an old friend of mine," said the old gentleman, winking mischievously. "Eh, Jule?" The bride burst into a fit of hearty laugh ter. "Nephew I" said the old gentleman, "al low me to present you to Mrs. Rashton that was." "Mrs. Rashton I" exclaimed Gerard, in amazement. "Yes-the widow you tried to run away from-but whom you ran away with, after all, my boy I" "What I have I been a dupe?" criedl Gor aId. "Dona't be angry, my lad. Your old uin ole only borrowed a little bit of, your ro mance to cure you of your visionary notioins. I engaged those strolling actors to come In to my grounds, because I knew very well you'd go off with them. I iunduced ,lha to make her first appearance-and I saw it, too, through a pair of green spectacles, with a red wig on my head, and an old plaid Scloak around me. Yet I paid my quarter ~ to ace the show. Ha I ha I" "Fairly trapped !" cried Geraid. "Yes, and if you go tramping round the world like a gipsy, trying to realize your fday dreams, you'll. be everybody's dupe. Yet I suppose you.are dotermned to make s the stage a profession." t. man I "N~ot so, uncele ;" said teyoungma 6 rather sheopishily; "I'tried to get a' clerk ship In New York," I ' And they wouldn't have you. Hal ha! s Well, don't let old Trapball know that,-or t he m allo 11w you to conmoinwith a cap. fI ialc4 000O." I Mydpar' generous uncle!" cried, Gor 4Tt, td or I 'lid061y too gla4'that tomeo I Egad I I think I could play it ayself as well as Bivvins. We need hardly add that Gerald became steady thriving merchant, and never re rerted, without feeling his cheeks tingle, to he episode of his connection with the stroll ng players. Burglars. "Are professional criminals often Pood workmen with tools?" "You can hardly call them fine vorkien. Nor are they generally ,cry strong mon. Almost all the hard abor they get Is when they are sent to >rison at hard labor. There are cer an burglars, however, who are sliarp nough to open almost any safe. In >oint of fact there is no such thing as naking a safe which a butglar cannot open. They have an apparatus which vill rip out the whole front of any safe hat can be made. It consists of an up ight, which is screwed into the floor, 4id on this they get a leverage with a ever which has an edge as sharp as a -azor and will go into the minutest rack. That machine will tear out the vhole front of a colossal safe. A case vas tried in England some time ago. k man sued a safe maker for selling lin an alleged burglar proof safe which vas afterward robbed. The safe naker proved in court that no safe ould be made which could not be pried 1pon. "What time do thieves generally so oct to rob a bank ?' . "They generally want all the time hey can get, as it is a long job to drill hrough thick steel doors. Thieves ,enerally commence Saturday night,so hey can have all night and next day, id the following night to work in. Chey hardly ever go- at a safe until heir stool pigeons have carefully pl ped dl the people on watch for weeks and vecks, and know their habits, when ,hey visit the bank. Not long ago, a )ank in Brooklyn, near the ferry, was narked for robbery,and the thieves got t the bank Saturday night and were it work there Sunday, when one of the )ank men unlocked the bank door. He lidn't see the thieves, nor even suspect heir existence. He was going to shurch, however, that morning, and When lie left the bank, walked very apidly in the direction of the station louse. Thereupon the 'crow' or the Lecomplices of the thieves outside,gave hemi the signal of danger, and they Iropped their tools, and went out of he bank in haste. On Monday morn ng. there was seen all their apparatus and they were Just on the point of get ing in at the money when frightened off. "Do burglars ever save their money ?" "Occasionally you find one that is rery frugal, temperate and thrifty; It 3 exceptional however. Mike Shen )urn, whom I regard as the biggest urglar in this country, is said to be Iving snugly in Switzerland on the noney he derived from robbing the )cean Bank more than ten years ago. Jimmy Hope is in Canada. He proba )ly has not much money, because his ion is a scapegrace who cleans him out. Burglars generally marry fast women; 'hey have no opportunity to address a ady of respectability, and often have ;o take a woman of the town." "Do the detectives generally keep laith with each other?" "That depends on the men. I know tome detectives who are the equals in 'onor and fidelity~of any man in the world. There are others of considera 1e reputation who are habitual In ~riguers. There was once in the Cen ral Office a detective of considierable 'iewspaper notoriety, but extremely oft. he thought his bosom frien d was mother detective now retired. The tatter found that the Police Commis soners were about to promote the other nan to his place in the force, and retire htimslf into the patrol or common po Lice body. TIheroupon the man had an recomplice take the soft ofalcer to a ho tel near the police quarters and fill him up with lush. (Drink.) While lie was there intoxicated, a rare thing for that man, the dtishonestofRlcer and false friend sent a Police Commissioner riround to the tavern to see the drunk an detective. Thereilpon the latter was degraded, and to thuis day does not know that his supposed friend sold him ouLt. Does Smoke Blacken Banduings. Prof. Paley has raised the question. whether the blackness of St. Paul's Ca thedral, and many other 1Cnglish city edifices, arises, as has hitherto been supposed, from smoke. Having observ od at Cambridge stones in nowise ex exposed to the action of smoke similar ly blackened, *he learned on Inquiry that under a strong microscopic invest igation of scrapings from such stone9, the darkness had .beenu exclusively proved to be due to a peculiar kind of lichen, which i4 peculiar to sandstone, and that It is always in proportion to the absence of the sun's rays, and that when a stone is much exposed to such rays there Is no darkness. hlaving ex. amined a curious lichen which grows in circular patches on Peterborough Cathedral, he found that It hatd the property of extracting quantities of lIme from the texture .of the stone. The Professor thinkt that sciehco may probably snggst a coii'se to neutral ise thl*' eketabl6 blackening probbes But spionoe and authorIty han~d In h'and oug~ht to go furthers ,and Qjuash the smoMo of towns,*hich Is waste otf1u41 w(brklng ap nMal Qutlay 9iilo In consjegae shin nd leaning The Bow-Bells. For some time past the Bow Bells,on of the finest, if not the finest church Ii the city of London,has been undergoinj examination in the public interest, an( before long the familiar chimes whici captivated or consoled a Whittington and have since charmed many mor from time immemorial, will ring out a before. The Church of St. Mary-Ic-Bow which, if not originally a Roman tom. ple, as generaily believed, was one o the earliest churches built by our Nor man conquerors, has been destroyce more than once by storm and fire. I was at one time garrisoned and be steged, and aftorward the scene of av assassination. It was first ientionet as a Christian church in the reign o William the Conqueror. Stov stays I was the fivst In the %3ity built on archei of stone, and that It was therefor< called St. Mary de Arcubus, or the Bow although he elsewhere says, with les apparent probability, that it took ti name from certain stone arches sup porting a lantern on the top of th( towur. By the way, the Court of ArcheE was formerly held in this church, am derived its name from the circumstance During the reign of William Rufus thi root of the church was blown off by th< wind, and four of the rhfters wern driven into the ground with such vio lence that, although they were eac twenty-six feet long, little more thar four feet of length was visible, th( ground In the neighborhood being ther a mere fen. About 100 years after thli event a tumult of a serious nature oc. curred in the city, which led to the as sault on the church before alluded to The ringleader was William Fitz Os. bert,. surnamed Longbeard, who wa, almost worshipped by the lower order# on account of his exertions as a pro. fessed advocate of the poor against the rich. An attempt being made to seize him he took refuge in Bow steeple together with various followers, anI being well provided with amiunitioi and provisions, was able for a a lonp time to defy the authorities. In ordej to drive him out the steeple was fired This had the desired effect; the rioter, were made prisoners; and, after a hast3 trial, were hanged at the Elms in Smithfield, at that time the usual plac< of execution. It appeared that Fit: Osbert (lid not lose his reputation amonp the people with his life, for it is sah that after his death vast numbers of people resorted to Smithfield, expectinj that miracles would be performed, ant that they carried away as holy relic pieces of the earth on which his bloot had fallen. A Nio Place for Quiet People. In Winnsboro, Texas, there is a druj store kept by a Mr. Skeen, who havinj occasion to be absent, instructed hi clerk, a young man, not to sell to an; person whatever on credit. Durinj his absence two men named Davis and known as. desperadoes, rode up and entering the store called fo whisky on a credit. They got tw bottles, and going off cane back ani demanded more. -. The boy refused whereupoh they fell to cursing him At this juncture also entered the store a merchant of Leesburg-Mille Mitchell-a unice, gooti, honest man who, seeing the boy imposed upon too: his part, and told the desperadoes the; were wrong. At this the villians dres their pistols.' "Are you sorry for wvhat you hav said ?" "I have said nothing to be sorry for,' returned the merchant. "Then I'll make you sorry," angrill retorted Brooks Davis. .Withn that the cutthroat slapped hin in the face with one hand, and witi pistol in the other, pulled the trigger shooting Mitchell through thne stomaci fatally. Mitohell wrenched. the pist< Irom the hands of the mlurdlerer, an< fired at him as he rani out, but withou effect. The victim died a few hour afterward. Recently, two traveler had ridden to a point in sight of th hills upon which Weatherford is bull A dispute arose on some subject, coni paratively unimportant. Dunker ha the temerity to disagree with Blacli well. The latter got Into a passio stimulated by the fumes of whisky an drawing his pistol fired at Dunker sei eral times, completely riddling hir with holes. Dunker fell from his hor. and his corpse was found in the roa the following morning. As usual, th assassin escaped. . A Gritty Girl. Mist Caroline Eggleson was comin to town the other day and saw a larj rattlesnake coiled uip and takig a na right in her path. Now docn't thin she screamed like a Comanche an worked herself into a fit trying to g<n away from that snake; not a bit of -I She just ngathered.'the dimity carefuil away from her-feet, slipped uip slyl; and with the precision of a practice hand placed her.heel fair on that uu suspecting serpent's head. The mnal writhed and slehed around, strut rattle-end.-to as high as her elbow wound around her limbs and equlgme in the miost approved snake style. 1.Bm it was to no use. The more it t*iste the harder she bore down and twiste hor gaiter Ipeel o:1 his. og keship head, until the struge was *,er ,a ths sneke gaweusp the ghost. Sympathetic Inks. II 3 A great number of sympathetic Inks 01 I may be obtained by means of reactions r known to chemisty. For Instance, I write on paper with a colorless solu tion of sugar of lead; if the water that is used for the solution be pure, no n I trace of the writing will remain when a it becdumes dry. Now hold the paper c0 over a jet of sulp1hmrated hydrogen, a and the characters will Immediately I appear on the paper of an intense black bi - color. The following receipes for Iuks of this kind are more simple: If writing ti be executed with a dilute solution of Be sulphate of iron, the invisible charac- li i ters will appear of a beautiful blue, if ri I the paper be brushed over with a pen- a oil full of a solution dt'ellow prusslate til of potash; or they will be black, If a tq solution of tannin be substituted for II the prusslate. If the characters be written with a solution of sulphate of pi i copper, they will at ouce turn blue on a exposing to the vapors of ammonia. Another sympathetic Ink is afforded by chloride of gold, which becomes a red dish purple, when acted upon by a salt 1 of tin. A red sympathetic ink may be made in the following manner: Write with a very dilute solution of perchlo- if i ride of iron-so dilute, Indeed, that the t writing will be invisible whei, dry. By holding the paper in the vapor aris ing from a long-necked glass flask con taining sulphuric acid and a few drops to of a solution of s0pho-cyanide of pot- al i assium, the characters will appear of a blood red color, which will again die- A appear on submitting them to the va pors of caustic ammonia. This expor iment can be repeated ad infinitum. 1 During the war in India, soine years ago, important correspondence was carried on by the Engliab by means of b the use of rice water as a writing fluid. On the application of iodine, the des- t patches immediately appeared in blue t characters. Sympathetic inks which U are developed under the influence of heat only, are much easier to use thanf the foregoing. Almot every one, per- III haps, knows that if writing be executed 01 on paper with a clean quill dipped iI t11 i onion or turnip juice, it becomes abso- T lutely Invisible when dry; and that h4 when the paper is heated the writing at at once makes its appearance in char- A actors of a brown color. All albumi nold, mucliaginous and saccharine veg etable juices make excellent sympa thetic inks; we may cite, as among the best, the juices of lemon, orange, apple and nar. A dilute solution of chloride 0) of copper used for writing Is invisible P until the paper is heated, when the let- P sers are seen of a beautiful yellow, dis appearing again when the heat that 8 developed them Is removed. The salts o of cobalt, as the acetate, nitrate, sul- is phate and chloride, possess a like prop- i erty. When a dilute solution of these if salts is used as an ink. the writing, al- a though invisible when dry, becomes k blue when exposed to heat. The ad- tl dition ofa hleride of iron, or of a salt of si nickle, renders them green, and this P opens the way for a very pretty exper- a r iment: 11 a winter landscape be drawn " in India ink, and the sky be painted u with a wash of cobalt alone, and the 0 branches of the trees be clothed with 10 leaves executed with a wash of cobalt " and nicklo, and tihe snow clad earth be 14 rwasedc over with the same mixture, a 01 miagie transformation at once takes b on the apl)1ication~ of heat, the winter ti landscape changing into a summer h 3LowernLve Love. Both are rich, and have spent many seasons ait Saratoga; names Willie and Minnie. The mother says they have been en)gaged to cachi other since child hood; that both have been reared with " care and tenderness, and though she si does say it, both are "well-born,'' and SI that'the wedding ceremony will soon a Stake place. They live in the city of Boston. Th'le following conversation tI t took place between them in my hear- ta ing : b' Minnie-I don't like mountains ; they nl are so-se big and dirty. Do you WIlI- 0' lie dear ? al -Willie-No, Indeed, Minnie, I don't. e 1Great, awkward, uncouth things, and a -are so-so much in the way, too. But II when I left Boston, Uncle Charles told II me 1 must take you up on the top of ta Pike's Peak. 14 Minnie-Oh, Willie, do you think I tl would ride up on a vulgar mule-the a Sidea, is so absurd-no, never, n,ever ! ti SWillie ? I shall fainti C Willie-Oh, clear Minnie, don't faint, " I will stay down here in this sweetval- A Iey with you until the others return. h) g Nerve and Humor in Battle. e eA brave English satior, at the battle of Trfagar, while serving at his gun a d on the main-deck, was struck by a shot tcoming in at the port, which took off his leg below the knee. -'As he sank down upon a shot-box, and saw the section clean gone, he muttered: . ti d "Ahm lit's onlya shilling affair, that? t .-had It gone a few inches higher I'd 'a ~ * got my eighteen pence for it." Heal- a k luded to the scale of ponsions, abgraded ), r, by theQ severity of the wound.d d Afterwards while one of his mates t '1 waqeorrying him below to the cockpit, 1 d hW suddenly eried out :"lo I Jack? ? 'a when you go-bael~ be sture slid take a ' 'a look at my leg, and save me the syver. n ogle on the:ohop.. il dIo as guoch. t Sr you it the Lord spares met? i E Xpra is a gIkl -reply for aniothga 3 3et was bearing down upon the fleet the enemy-the Spaniards-that the iaplain of a frigate asked the con andor, who was all allve with excite ent, and eager in the work: "Captain, have you reckoned the tmber of the enemy ?" "No, no--not yet," replied the brave alef. "We cani (1o that more readily ter they are ours." Here is another of a 11i1ferent cast, t it it's humor i8 not to be deniled : The French at Wagramn, were making e finest onset of the battle, when a rgeant of infantry who was holding a conmpany in line tipon the extreme I ght of his regiment, was st upon by yelping snarling cur, belon.4tig to 1 e colonel. The old soldier coult not moly bear this, and with a movement ce lightning, lie charged bayonet )on the dog, and ran him through, obably to the heart. The colonel w, and being near the spot lie rode "Look, you, my man, why could you )t have just as well made at my dog Ith the butt of your musket?" "Parbleu/ I'd have done it, Colonel, the brute had only made at me in e same way " The Virgins' non as. The Virgins' bones aro a greater cui sity of Cologne than the Cathedral, t ad yet we rarely hear of them in merica. Among thousands of legeids the Rhine is that of the pious St. U r ila and the eleven thousand Virgins, ho, 1400 years ago, wont up the river a a pilgrimage to Rome, and returnming t ore all murdered by the iluns. Their mnes were gathered together, and in i me way unexplained, were brought t Cologne and buried in a common ib, over which, after many years, as erected the present church of bt. rsula, which Is 850 years old. Sub- 1 quently the bones were exhumed om beneath the chuich, brought up d to it and placed arotuid it forming ke of the most extraordinary displays at the eyes of mai ever witnessed. lie cmurch is not very large, and its ,avy walls, low ceilings, and ancient yLe of construction show I ts antiquity. 11 around this church are encased the I :ulls and bones, huge stone receptacles I )ing filled with them, with apertures C the sides through which the bones in be seen, and the skulls being pu 1 little rows of shelves divided off like geon holes. All the skulls have the Lrt below the forehead covered with ie needle work and embroidery, and me of them are inlaid with pearls and 1 her preelo4s stones. 'he collection certainly a remarkable one, there be ig, besides the collection of bones, 1 100 of these skulls arranged in cases 'ound the church, wilst in a room iown as the Treasury, which is about kirty feet square, there are 732 more culls en the walls, and the entire up ,r portion is covered with bones which ,e arranged everywhere, excepting here the winctows let in light. Here nder speolal glass eases, are the skulls bt. Ursula herself, her lover and sev *at of the principal virglng; together ith the bones of her rigi~t and left ot anct one arm. There are also hier relics, Including one of the ala ister vases wherein the SaviouIr turned ac water Iito wine. TIhiis vase would aid about four gallons, but part of tihe outhi and one haadle are gone, and is so cracked and dilapidated that it robably wouald hold very lIttle niow. Didn't Like fiIt Experience. Recently about neon somie lads who1 ere rushing the season by going in vimnming In the~ river unear Sullivan reet, Elmira, were subjeeted to quite sensation. A man took his horses to e river to let them dirink, leading ocm by halter. While they were in ae water one of the boys got on the ick of one of the horses, which im Ledlately started for home. Having sly a halter the boy could n't stop him. rid the horse like the man with the >rk leg, Went faster as lie progressed, ad the boy had to hang on for dear fe. Hero was a spectacle that Mazeppa aight have coveted. Up Water street >his stable near H igh, the horse gal iped with an apparition on his back, iat doubtless scaredl him as much as it stonished the natives who witnessed 1e wild ride, to say nothing of the ansternation of the boy, who rode !ithout weight; In fact he was just as ratuire fashioned himi. When the orse got home he stopped, and as soon a his comrades brought him his lothes the boy dressed himself and rent home, feeling very nmuch as if he ad just finished a six days' walking riatchi. Loveilneas. Whateconttutes true loveliness ? Not he polished brow, the gaudy dress, nor he show and parade of fashlQnable life. L woman may have all the outward iarks of beauty, and yet not 'possess a vely character. It is the benevolent isposition, the kind act.s and the Chris. Ian deportment. It ia iri the heart, thiere meekness, truth and humility are ound, where we okpfor )Qveliness. 'he woman who ean soothe the aching e4rt, smooth the aohing heart, AniGoth he wrinkled br6w 1 l~ate tb n. u Ioftbe tn1%pd, anj a mi~hi~i FOOD FOR THOUGHT. Be rigid to yourself and gentle to >thers. To know how to wait is the great so ,ret of success. Life and death, prosperity and ruin, aing upon little things. When reason is against a man, a man viII be against reason. The higher up the mountain you climb he higher you can see. We are as liable to be corrupted by >ooks as by companions. The greatest misfortune of all Is not o be able to bear misfortune. One cannot boar to pay for an article io used to get for nothing. Age that lessons the enjoyment of ife, Increases our desire of living. We cannot have fertilizing showers >n the earth without a clouded heaven bove. It is thus with our trials. Every man who has risen to great icso has done so by attention to small hings. They imake up our lives. The self x perience of every man will prove this o him. This may be applied to everything in Ife-love, fame, matrimony, and all inds of money. A year ot pleasure passes like a fleet ug breeze, but a moment of sorrow Cenms an age of pain. G]reat souls are always loyally oubmim Ive to what Is over them; only mean ouls are otherwise. Courage, the commonest of the vlr ties, obtaIns nioro applause than dis retion, the rarest of them. Love can excuse anything except ricainess; but meanness kills love and ripples natural auffection. You remember Benjamin Franklin's iaxim, "Take care of the cents, an(i lie dollars will take care of themselves. Tears are the gift which love bestows ipon the memory of the absent, and hie will avaIl to keep the heart from utocation, If the loved ones could come back to arth only long enough to be forgiven, t would relieve many a remorseless eart. Tile mnan who violently hates or ar. ently loves cannot help being In some egree or sense a slave to the person e detests or ad ores. Never retire at night without being viser than when you rose in the morn ng, by having learned somnething use ul during the (lay. The more honesty a man has, the less te affects the airs of-a saint; the affec ation of sanctity is a blot on the face f piety. When a man pulls out his sixpence nd gives that when he is laying by housands of pounds, I can only con ider that lie forms a pretty accurate neasurenent of the value ot' his relil Ilon. Wilmot, the infidel, when dying, laid ti trembling. emaciated hands upon he Sacred Volume, and exclaimed, olemnnly and with unwonted energy : 'The only objection against this book s a bad life I" A dear old friend of mine used to say, vith the truest Christian charity when to heard any one being loudly eon lemned for some fault: 'A! well, yes, t seems very bad to me, becauspe that's tot my way of sinning," The greater your wants, the greater lod's goodness in supplying them; the Preater your enemies, the greater the lisplay of God's power in subduing hem; and the greater your unworthi iess, the greater ls grace in saving riou. It were a desolate thing, Indeed, to 'orbid the love of Earth, If ther'e were iothing to fill the vacant space in the eart. Bunt it is just for this purpose, hat a sublimer affection may find room hat the lower Is to be expelled. Peter McKenzie's ad vice is good: 'If you have a greedy dispositiont, amnd he devil comes to you when you are in he act of giving, and tells you, 'You ain't afford it,' say tQ him, '.If you don't teep quiet I'll double it,' and he'll oon give It uip." in the Christian wvarf'are to maintain ho confiet is to gain the victory. Th'le romlse Is made to him thtat endu tres to he end. The object of our spiritual tdversaries is to prevent tis. Every lay which wve atre p resor vedl from go nig back they sustaln a defeat. Th'le smallest motion js of importance n nature. The wvhole substance of thte aea moves when we throw in a pebble. so in the life of grace, thte must trifling tettoat has a bearing in its consequences ipon tihe wvt.ole.. E verythiing then is atportan t. We are told of St. Augustine, that, mn one occasion, whben contemplating he dloctrineo of . the Trinity, he was Aalking by the sea and saw a ohild fil-. ing a shell with the water, and pour nit linto a hollow in the sand. He ad:"What are you doing my boy lth that wvater ?" To whIch the chil ~eplied : "I am going to put all the sea ato this hole." Whien a voice seemed o say to jaim:i "And thou, too, art do Lng the like in thinking to comprehendi he depthr' of God in the narrow limits >f thy finite mind." The excessive pressing of religious rnen into public notice,- which charac terlzes the present day, Is only an other sign of the spiritual poverty of the limes. No eagle pinions at present soar In our firmament, hence thiem smaller birds, time minds of inferior cast, hav ing no living standard by whiieh to dis cern their own littleness, are embolden od to regard their own modieup of tal ents and endowmpents as an ovrdence'of i divine vocation to great ggl~ exalted things. Happy Woldit be fr Zion were that vain ac ~tt, Which is not of God but of the world, copfiabd to the. world itself, and hot obtru44p withis her sacred inol#iptres." Notbipg, really speed( why9h is nog based uponpreality ; sham, Ip, a large sense, is never sugoessftd;l ii the -life of the individul,a'lin th nM. re ooita prehensive life of the Sitte 1tett |b mthing, ab) poWortk ey hIg do~ags'n~eci 1l4ta '