University of South Carolina Libraries
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., NOVEMBER 4, 1879. VOL. 111.-NO. 119. THEY COME NO MORE. They come no more ! The litt'o voloo that liepod [i morning son:;: The little foot that pattered all day long. The little hands that mine so lov d to prvaLu The little lips whose tonch was a carese. They como no nioro I They come no imore I The lanighimg eyes tUt fondly looked In min-. Th1o baby ways that 'round the lioart-striigs twino, Tho our y head that nostjos on my breast; All, a I havo loft me for a -wootor rest, They come no more I They como no more I And, yet, to soothe my sorrow and regrot. Tho foling cones ny boy i with ino yet I know that so:ne day, when title 1.fo han pia t., Loving me still tho same with joy at last, 11o'll como once more! Who was Right. Just ton years ago I met the only one 1 ever loved, and, though the years are aid. iwx to each other, I still reniember the fIrat tw.j we looked into each others' eyes and clasped the hand that imade us friends, and true friends, indeed, for life. in the city of C-, situated upon the banks of one of Ohio's beautiful blue rivers, there lived a family of wealth and culture. Sirrounded as they were by all that could reline andi educate a young and gifted mind, Miss Alice Marvenia, their second daughter, grew in girlhood'R loveliness and rom1imtic sweetness, and long before the age that fully 4evelopes the womanly-qual ities, she had numerous lovers ready to do her bidding. Yes, I rememtber the evening we met. It was at the rink ; upon the glistening cir cle of ice ; the light shone down in chaste effulgenco and its scintillations were like fire Ilies flitting in the silver sheen of a sunner night. In the gallery the hand poured forth its sweetest music, and seemed to bathe all in its soft, voluptuous swell as round and round the skaters quickly passed. 'I'his particular evening had assembled together the youth and beauty of the city. Aiong the handsome and attractive, Miss Marvenia was the acknowledged belle, at tired in a velveteen suit trimmed with gray fox fur, a urkish cap nestled among her nut-brown tresses-ehe looked a queen in Iced. At last the moment arrived when the long wished for introduction took place. It was generally known that we were both anxious to become acquainted, anid as I glided into the knot of skaters which were gathered in the furthest corner, perchance to discuss a new figure or quiz some of the awkward skaters, Miss Lulu Allison, a bright and pretty MINss, who had long known our desire for an introduction, seized upon this opportunity to make the coveted acquaintance. "'Miss Alarvenla allow in to introduca. to you my frienl, Mr. Braleigh. lie is a charming skatcr, and I know you will have a splendid tini." "Miss Marvenin, I an very glad to make your acquaintance, and I hope we will be .oo(I friends. Can I express tno same sentiments for yourself?" "Why, certainly, Mr. Braleigh. Do you know that I have noticed you time and time again, and really, this meeting gives me the greatest of plenure. Won't it be nice? now that we know each other we can have such a gay time together. W e shall meet here every evening, and. as the band has now commenced playing, I am going to in vite you to Io my partner. Will you ac ceptT "Certainly. Shall we skato backwards or forwardsI" "Ohj, no; lot us join hands and skate slowly around. D)o you know that I so dlislike this hurry and rush, as tanugh one's life dlepended upon going around this circle Just, so miany t,ines in a fixed pe.lodI? I N prefer to go slowly ; am I not right?7" As this question was asked our eyes met, anud it was evidlent that we were both pleased with each othier's society, and 1 enn truly say that the moments passed so quickly and yet so quietly, that it was to me as a pleasaut dream. Her sweet, mu .sical voice charmed me and her innocent questions awakened In my heart feelings of thme deepest respect aq esteem. Hecr eyes, dark as the .night, dparkled with unusual brilliancy; and as I looked into their liquid depths, 1 imagined hours of happpmess; yes, atnd days of comiort that couldi be - passed1 under their charming influence. Thme hour, however, was fast approach lng when skates were bundled up and tihe weary skaters sought their warm firesides, $o bidding adieu for a while to the awak oned thoughts and feelIngs which were arlsbyg in my mind, I htastened to [lie room where, around.a large stove, the ladles and gentlemen *ere busy taking 'off ~their skates. We were greeted upon our arrival in thme room~. by: "Well, indeed I and are you through?9 we had 4lmost made up our mind that you were going to skate all night." "Now, Miss Villiers, you knowv that we had an engagement for- this e.vening." "Yes, that is right, make an excuse. You can depend upon it, something is ' r. Braleigh, I amt not going to speak to you again. No, you can not smooth It over. You promised me a week ago that tio first eventing the.band played you would teach me the new. figure. But to .see you this evening while you were skating one -would naturally suppose you had forgotten *everything else ,in the world except her, and I am certain that if tho' janitor, would commenced turning off the eas you had not -have been skating there yet. C "fome, now, Miss Villrs, do not b)0 se cruel; you a-re cerainly aware th)at mny *acqulainltance with tMiss. Marvcnia dates from this evonmng, and, of course, I desired * to get along as far. as possible," - Indeed iI expect you were. I am per jiuaded to say that you have gotteu along sola fatiat you are already in love-with her," Not wishing to conltinue the conversatron, and fest1i, *perbase that hepr remarks - -might boe the4rd I ttypod aside. Has toning ito.2 wero wlao, I pfoceeded to unbiuckle heOr skates, Thanklhg. me Very hIndly fo0YidaoIn , I oAeed:hort my comn - .jmA,~ hotnerble WU d aeppt'ed, After - bri next evenng, we parted. Well, I can remember lily lonely walk back that evening; how, as if a new life had conie to my young leart-was it Jove? Could it be that in such a sliort pvrioio I I could leel the passiantate thrilliign of' love's sweetest. deptli. As I lay in my bed that Iight I felt as though my fate had been sealed. I loved her, and I looked forward to the day when I could call her mine. I knew it would be a struggle to possess her; but who can doubt his weakliess when love has ide hin blind ? Evenlin, after even-, ing we spent at tihe rink. We were the halppiest of all present, the observed of all observers. It soon became the talk "that when we were together no other society was needed." We found so many ways to entertain each . other. It wits siminply an obtrusiot for any one to tarry with us. Week followed week, and the months of Witer gradilly warmed into spring. Tle buds upon ithe trees were putting forth their tiny green heads, and over the grey and dreary meadows the blne grass spread itself and seemed like the magnificence of the beautiful sky. With the return of spring and its bright and stny days, our love grew stronger. Trusting in each other I our life was one of complete hIappinless. Who call doubt the strength of coifiding hearts ? W to dare say they cannot be true? Wbo could believe that treachery could enter into and take possession of an honest and true heart, and break the silver choi ds of constancy I For it is constancy, strengthened by love, that binds the hearts and holds together the future lappinmss of man and wife. It is said that youthful !ove does not exist long--u ii, ackle, soon aroused and easily forgot. Let but a few months of separation exist and all will soon be forgotten. The sweet smile of the one so ardently admired will becotne as a mockery of by-gone days. Tle ringing laugh that sounded like the notes of a song bird, grow fainter and fainter as the weeks grow longor and longer. The gifts which were so kind and tenderly given soon lose their favorite place in tie room, and in their stead perchance souvenirs from othere are placed. Be that as it atiny,' a separa Lion soon took place. I was apprised of the fact. one evening as we were sittin in the parlor playing cards. It was settled that Alice was to leave the following Monday for Philadel phiia, to attend a private boarding school, to be gone one year, and its we turned from tle card table to the piano, I asked her to play Millard's '"Waiting," a flavorite son1g i of ours, which she did with considerable 4 feeling. Our conversation then naturally turned upon the subject of her going I away. I "Itarry, I ant so sorry that I have to 4 leave you," site said, "and would you be- I lieve it, ma says I cannot write to you, or I you to me, during the whole year that I am I away." "And you are willing to accede to this." I "Indeed, I am not; but how can I help it?' - "Can't you arrange it so the mall can be dellvered to you secretly?" "Ol, Harry! And would you have te I do this? It scos so %ickeld, and if I were to be found out, then wltat?' t "Then what! Imave you not told me i that you. loved ite ; and do you think that I it the tiie of trouble I should desert you?" "Wallat, you desert time? Oht, no; I could not believe that, but then 1 feel as though I must obey. Tihe tihe will be short. Only one year, and then I will be home agan. Please wait." As I took my lit to leavo she iassed into the hallway and after promising to be at the train on the I dlay of her departure, I left. Monday, 12 o'clock at noon, found ie at the depot stepping into the cars. Looking hurriedly over the seats I saw Alice and hier father it the farther end. With a smile ott her face site welcomted mie, attd as I handed-her a boutquet of flowvers to be a cottpanion dturitng hter travels, she ihanuked I tmt most cordially, Ou)ir conversat.iont wats soon1 brought to a clsse by te engine bell A whbich waes a signal for departure. Bidding her goodl-bye, I htastened to thte platformt. As the traitn drew out wve waved each other I a last farewell. A'year had now almost patssed( away and ( I looked attxiously forward to the day. 1 Aye, I lottged for thte htour,when we should 1 meet again. Frequently I had hietard fr,im her,thtrotught friends here, antd, the mecssages'were always of the best wishes for mty welfare, aitd ex pressed settntets of deep regardl. .Iamcht thought expressed inl liy behalf kintdled anew the passion of niy soul. It would tnot be long, I thtouight, wvhen we I shall see each othter agalit. The time nowv quickly passed( awaty, and the mornting of her returnt haid conic-she wvaslhome, I called at noon, bttt was greeted upon my arrival with tIle startlitng news, ".Alisa8 Marvenia was sick and1( it would bte int.pos s11)l0 for me to see lier." "Impossible to see liern" I exclahned; "whty, is she so soriouisly sick ?" "Well, I think so," said thte servant, "but if you will stop into thte parlor, Mr Blraleigh, I will call hter mtothter; she pr' it wvill be better for you to see hter." Bteppin)g into thte parlor I awaited her comning, whlich was not lontg. After the customary formalities, I enquired very earnestly after thte health of iss Mar venia. "Mr. Biralelgh, I atm very sorry to say that my daughter is .111 and unable to see you 'at present. It may be a week or even three or four weeks before I can 'permIt you to call. You will, of c'urse, conslder that I have mty daughter's welfare at heart, and you will please act upon the sugges "Mirs. Marveitla, you astonislt me; is It possible thfat your dantgltter Is so very sick that I cantnot welcome her homtte. "Yes, it is true." Whtat could thtis really mean; was she sIck?9 What could have made Mirs. Mar ventia tiet so tow'ards me? True, she niever suspectd our love as I had suipposed. What right had shte to know of it? Could it bo' posd1ble~thatYAhice had. told hter, ad now. slIe' as seeiking to sever the warm tiS I which was bindIng us so dirmnl together? Ai I Wandered.hiofliwa'rd, milthis phuased throughi'my mitnd. I wmi* dot vineing'ty self that somnethhig lhdd evidently chilled Whtat itwas, I ktww ntot li I resolved I 6pprtumilt i,tnIi io 11 m1e. 11er large black eyes, which were wvont to look so bright, now had a far away ook ; some one thing Remedwl alsorbing all ter mind. There wats no evidence of ))hysical disability. She had not nloticed nie, for I stood uider the shade trees by he sidwalk, anld n4 I stepped fromi under heir concealing branches I resolved to (now the cause of her sorrow. Ila-tening o her home I arrivi there just as she itepped from the carriage to the door. We net. Tirembling with exciteielit, she wel .omed mlite, and ivited me to a scat in the )arlor. Drawing a chair to her side, I in luired the cause of such a change it her 'ace-wly So sl(d and desIldent. With :onlsiderable hesitation she finally said "Oh, Mr. Braleigh, I cannot, cannot tell rou. You do not know what ia change I lye experienced." "A change, Alice? What do you leftil ?" "iarry, I Ihought .I loved you, but VIthinl the last few weeks I know that it !alliot be 0." "Cannot be so, Alice? Why, what can >e the matter?" As I asked this question I looked into ier face with straining eyes, as if to read ter inmost thoughts. I knew and felt she ould not, did not feel what she was aying. "It is mother, Ilarry." "Your iother? Speak then, Alice, and et mc kn.% all," I said calmly and with leliberatk it. "Moth'. says she hates you and will not erinit y(ju again to see ime. Why, 1 (10 lot know. She will not explain. Some me, no doubt, who is an enemy to you, kas told her bitter falsehoods concerning ,ourself." "And do you believe them ?" I said, rembling with excitement and indignation. "Believe thei, Harry ?" she replied. As he spoke her manner wis sifflcient to con Fince eIC she did n1ot. "1elieve them, Iarry? No ; and no most enphatically; md if you say the word, I will be yours id only yours till death.'' Kind reader, what would you have done mnder the circumstances? Here was a rouing and beautiful girl,whom I had loved nost passionately, willing to leave home mLd all to be my wife-reared ii luxury tid refinement, to go to a home, Heaven nily knows where, for I was poor; but, lmik God I no one could point the finger if scorn at any period in my life when a ingle deviation from the right course had weenC made. She, as I have said was will ng to be a partner of my joys and sorrows. )n the other hand, a proud and fastidious nother, who was anxious that her daughter hould occupy a higher position in life than he one which I could command. She was ager t6 have her dlaughter sa rifnde all the Ine and noble instincts of womanly love o gratify a vain and ambitious fancy, I ook her hand in mine, and with the words carcely audible to myself, told her how I iad loved her, but to the honor of her >arents she owed them a duty, and that vas to obey. Passing to the doorway I vas hastening away. Throwing herself In ny arms, and with tears streaming down ter face, she besought me not to leave her. rYith an effort 1 gained the street. And to his day a question which I have asked nyself a thousand times remains unan wered. It is: "Who was right?" Liverpool Docks. The Liverpool docks, as they stand at )resent, are among the wonders of the vorld. Since the formation of the first wet lock, in 1719, the extension of these inland >asins has been continuous. Fifteen years igo they covered an area of water space to lie extent of 277 acres, and the quays were kineteen miles in length. Siuce then there ins been no cessation of dock extension. Po enumerate or describe them would fill aiany pages. There are the Salthouse, Al aert and Canning docks, the Clarence half ide dock, the Prince's half-tIde (lock, the tianchiester basin, the Wapplng basin, the 'ob)urg, ,Brunswick, Union, Toxeth and lozens of other (locks, wvithi the Glorre P1 zzas at the bottom of St. James' Street, a hiort distance from the Town Hlall. Every onvenience and facility for the speedy ransaction of busIness surrounds themi. A road open '.horoughifare, taphping at right angles many of the p)rlncipaul streets, runs long their whole length ; in this roadway s a douic line of rails, which branch off iso and surround several of the basins and locks; omnibuses and trami cars tr'averse it >crpetually during the dlay from enti to end. rho scene Is a busy one alwuys. A hurry ng p)olyglot multitude, constantly oii the niove in and out about the sheds; great ans and wvamns, ladSh with produce, cotton ales, ores, Manchester piece go .ds, cases if every size nd description, contaIning ochineal, indigo, flax, jute, guano, ma ogany, dressed hides and untanned, me.. asses, raw silk, and the thousand andi one rticles ot home, colonial and foreIgn pro luice needed to carry on the manufacturing irocesses of tIhe world ; the engines rattling mnd pufllng impatiently, as they ruh lonig with their long lIne of atteindant wai ~ons, en ronte for the great terminus hing r up in the towvn. E8xports of Manufuct,ures. The experts of American manufactures huring the fiscal year ending June 80, 1879, miiouited to $127,102,608, agaInst $763, il.6(59, during the fiscal year ending June .0, 1879. .The changes in articles, whoso mliu' exeeds $1,000,000, hay6 been as fol owus: Agricultural implements have in icased from $1,008,470 to $2,088,888; looks, maps, paintings, paper and station iry, from $912,603 to $2,080,814; earri. iges and railway.cats, $970.542 to $1,278 L28: clocks and watches, $580,008 to $1, 190,488; manufactures of cotton, $8,787, i82 to $18,858,9590; mianufactui'es of cop Ir,0,4 to $2,831,058.; drugs, dyes dchemicals, $2,495,150 to $8,098,500;. nanufactures of hemp1, except cordae g6'7, 085 to $1,158,471; mnanufactures . o ron and steel, $5,040,881 to $10,921,194; eather and mianufactures, $008,881 to $7 (69,069 ; mIneral oils, not including crude md residum, *20.429,057 to $87,914,110 ; regetables oils, $812,140 to $2,497,004; rdnance and ordnance stores, $1 22,5'i0 to K1,966, 6809; prlts, $707,541 t~ $2,728, 16; spirits turpoeitino, $1,257,802 to $2, )41,078' sugat Wia.molah $6;601,526, to 1Ii d78ma ittresotbco $1.. foo .1200 ma utair of 84c~ The Tal of the Frogs. The boys upi In he lake country low, are remnarkahly agi e and most thoroughly versed in the art o catching anyllhing that walks, crawls, hol: or swims. Abiout two weeks ago there w re, among other tourists oi Marvey's Lak4 two geitlemen, one from the Twentletl and the other from the Sixteenth Waids f Chicago. One day they wanted soi frogs for halt. They found some bo,1s. " Bring us, ' s d the tourists, "Somle frogs. Bring th in to us this evening, fresh and alive, fo we would fish on the morrow." And the boys sp ko unto them, "llow many frogs would icy want?" And they said,/" (.o to ; bring us as many as you caln Wtcl." For they wist tok that the boys were lightning on frogs. And the boys were astonished, and marveled within themselvos, and said, "So imany ?" And the tourists were wroth and entreat ed the lads roug ly, and said, " Yea, so many. Up; got liee away, for the day waneth." And a ralghtway the lads got up and got. And it was so hat the two fishermen 1 sought yet other b ys, and spoke uno thenI in like manner as ;hey had said unto the first, for they fe rod there would be ro bait for the morro 's sport. Now, the fishe men desired that they might have twent -five frogs and no more, but they withheld this matter back from the lads, and sail jnto them: "Bring unto us all the fr s you can catch. See, is not here silver ud nickles?" Now, when e was cole the lads returned, and the brought with them frogs. In oyster canls, in fruit cans, sardine boxes, old bottles, in eart,en vessels and GJn buc kets, in baskets id in gunny sacks, inl their hats and I their pockets, yea, in everything where n a frog might be con tained, brought they frogs; big frogs, little frogs, fat frogs, lean frogs, old frogs, young frogs, male and female brought they them. . And the fishermen were amazed, anid one said, " Lo, what have we hero ?" And tile lads spake unto them, saying, "Frogs." And the head fishermen entreated them, saying, " Lo, here are far more frogs tian we want, but we will take thein. We will lump the lot at a hundred. Here is silver; let that sullice thee." But the lads said, " Nay, we will count them." And they tallied ,the tale of frogs, and the number thereof wah two hundred and three-score and nine. And the people laughed and clapped their hands and made merry. But the fishermen were wroth withont cause. And it was so that yet other lads canto in by ones and twos and threes. And they brought with them each lad his full tale of frogs, o thi the lIlkof it had never been knowh before; no, iot on all Harvey's Lake. And they counted each boy his frogs, and lie said: " Pay me what thou owest. Lo, Is not there the frogs the hast com manded?" And they paid them, and entreated them that they would east the frog into the lake. But the lads said : "Not so. The frogs are thine ; do with them as thou mayest please." Arid all the country round about the lake was filled with frogs, for it wias so that they escaped from the carthen vessels and the fruit cans and sa'rdino boxes and baskets and the empty beer bottles and the gunny bags, and spread themselves abroad over the land. And they lifted up their voices and made great lamentation so that n1o man slept that night. And thme peop)le sat at the windows and at the gates anid said with a loud voice, "Blasthie," whicL by interpretatIon is "frogs." And wvhen the morrow was come, tho fishers weont forth to fish, and they took wIth them, as was their need(, twenty-five frogs. And they used four of them. Bunt they had paid for three hundred and eighty-seven. Wives of thle Preaidents. James Parton tell us that Mart ha Wash ington was a plump, pretty, sprIghtly little woman in her youth, but settied downa into a plain, domestic wife, who looked sharply after the servants Bhe was far from an educated woman, and thiough she kept her own accounts, was a very poor speller. Parton quiotes AMrs. B3remer, the authoress, whio relates a "curtain lecture" of the great man by Martha, which she overheard in the aleeping-room, Martha was angry, and scolded a long time. The General listened 1 In silence till she was d1one, and then mild ly closed the acenec with "Now, good sleep to you, my dear." General Washington wvas very rich, Mrs. Washington was veory rIch, and her three children by her first husband were heirs to great wealth. Wash ington's mother was a plain, illiterate, en ergetic, strong-willed lady, who preferred i her own broad acres, and declined to go and live with her great son. "I thank you,I George," said sIhe, "but I desire to lbe in depenitent." And when General Lafayette1 called, see was at work in her garden, with her old Bun-bonnet on; so she came to him, saying: "1 could( not pay you so poor a compliment, MarquIs, as to stop to change my dress.". Thomas Jefferson, like Wash ington, married a wIdow, Mrs. Maria Skel ton, who hand considerable property ; but that did not save her great husband who) died deeply in debt, owing to lisa aIavlsh devotioa to his country. She was a lady of extraordinary beauty of fac and form, and singularly competedt to adorn and conduct a great household. A little above the me diom height, fair complexion, eyes large, dark and expressive, auburn hair, and a daring horsewoman, and full of talent.) She playedy, danced, and swng well, and had literary tastes. When Jefferson court ed her lie was twenty-eight, and she nine teen. Hie played the violin and sung well, and as lie had money then, and a high po.I sition, he distanced all rivals. They hiad a great wedding. She had an immenso re sponsibility managing her husband's grepti estate, had six children of .whomn only two survived, and died befr he rose to 'ida greatrenon, moraed himi to th~d 1lat He reiained' wIdOWtforty-four years, dQWu to his death. .OUrso she never saw hhe in th'Wite ~oo Doly Payne a '% n 019 rUt inarried a lawyer namied Todd. Sihe was wenty, and he died tiree yvars after, leav Ing her with t 8on and no wealth. Iier nother kept boarders while Congress siat here, and she he!ped her mother to keep he establishment. Among these hoarders wvere Aaron Ilurr, then a Senator from New York, and James 1Madison, ai Alember of .ongress from Virginia. Dolly was verv Jeautiful and accomplished, and whei sie Inarried Mnison he was 43 and she 25. I'hey had no0 Children. When he beiame President. in 1809, the White 1ou1se ie 1eived its lovely mistress, who enjoyed its tttractions for eight years. She died in Washington in 1849, aged 82 years, survi ring her Iuslbanld thirteen years. I have 1poken of Mrs. Andrew Jackson more than >ie. She was the wife of another ianl, Jowis lobards of Kentucky, when young lackson saw and loved her. 11er mother, %irs, Donelson, was keeping a boarding louse at the timile, having returned to Ten iessee with Mr. and Mirs. R->bards, and lackson lived in her house. Result, at jeal >mg husband and at separation. A runor amme that a divorce hand been granted, and lien Ja6kson married the "grass widow ; " >ut the rumor proving false, they lived to ,ether two years before a divorce could )c really granted, and then they were mar led again. The first husband left early, i.nd these peculiar circumstances led to nany bitter quarrels between Jackson, vho grew ito a great reputation, and his nianly cinnncs. She wi sllort and stoit, i great housekeeper and manaiuger, very re igious, very illiterate, kind to her slaves, mnd full of ancedee and full. Slie had no Iildren, and (ied in December, 1828, just iftei her great husband was elected Presi lev,t. She was the "Aunt Iachel " of ishville, and regularly smoked i pipe vith the General. When the news of his lection its President eame to her( dying -uch, she simply said: "WeI, for Mr. ackson's sake (she always called hii Mr. [ackson) I am glad; for my own part, I ever wislied it." Mr, Polk was in his Iftieth year when he wis inaugurated Pres dent, on tile 4th of March, 18 15, and his tately wife could not have been less than orty when I saw her at the succeeding ii uguration bll]. She wats a splendid au umnal beauty, and ] her creamy complexion uid glossy raven hair gave her a sort of 5panish lovelinesq. At present her snowy urls and ine presence indicate that she is >er seventy, and her handwriting reveals lady of fine physical and nicntal health. 0 4WO A Central Afr1cain Strm. We continued sailing for half an hour, md as it was then ntear suiset, dropped anl hor in seventy-five feet of water. The vind, which had swept in strong gusts rom the northwest, muddenly fell, for In he northwest the aspect of the sky had ong been threatening. Clouds surged in hick masses fron that direction and Cast L glooni over the woodclothed slopes and rests of Usuguru, which became almost as )lack as a velvet pall, while the lake grew is quiet as though vitrified into glass. soon the piled 1u) cloud mass grew jagged, imd a portontous zig zag line of deep sable mc ran through its centre, fr 'i which the ftorm seemed to issue. 1 : -quested the .rew to come further aft, an( fastening a louble rope to the stone anchor, prepared very mug and baler for the rain with which we were threatened, The wind then fell, is though from above, upon our bowed leads with al overpowering force, striving igainst the resistance which It mel, ats if it would bear us down to the bottom of the ake, and then, repelled by the force of the vater, it brushed into a million of tiny ipples. The temperature fell to 02 deg. Fahrenheit, and with this sudden cold lown dropped a severe shower of hailstones f great size. which pelted us with great orce and mado our teeth chatter. After his the rain fell in sheets, whie the light lng blazed, procceding the most dreadful hiunder-claps I remnembier to have ever ieard. The rain, inldeed. iell in such auantitles that it required two menCI for each mection to keep the boat sufficiently buoy lit to r1(de ihe crest of the-waves. T1he nrew cried out that the boat was sinking liat, if the rain conitinued In such volumie, .iothing could dave us. lIn rely, I only arged themi to bale her out faster. The able mass5 of Usuguru- as I observed b)y lie bars of initense light whilih the light Iing flashed almost every second--was 3t111 in front, anid I knew, therefore, thlat vec were niot being swept very fair to sea. Jur enlergies were wholiy devoted to keep ng our poor pettedl selves afloat, and this >ccup)ied the crew so muilch thalt they half orgot the horrors of the black anid dlismal light. For t wo hours this experience last >d, and thern, uniburdening our bareasts with' ;ighs of gladness not unmillxed wlih grati ,ude, we took :mr anchor on1 board and( itole through the darkness to the western lidle of Ngev IiIsland, where, at a kindly Ire, we dIed our clothes and our wetted jodies, and, over a hot potful of Lelbig, rifiected to laugh at our late critical po.1ition. The (Aersnination of Mushroom Spores. It has been generally supposed, and in ~act it is assertedl in ali works on the sub ject, that the spores of the conmmon e(li ile mushroom canr:ot be made to germil. inte until they have passed through the iody of a horse, or some graminivorous mnimal. Mr. W. G. Smi1th, an enminent mtthority denies this, however. He says, n the current number of the Gardener's lIhronicle, that "it Is a mlistake to suppose hat the mushroom spores will not germi late until they have passed through the Itomlach of somo gramniivorous auimal,for I iave several times seen the spores germni iatinig uponf clean grass. I first notleed lhe fact by accident, after I had left a aumber of freshly lallen spores unIder tho nieroscope all night. On looking at the lidec in the morning nearly every spore had erinated. liut thon thme spores were per ecctly fresh and alive. My observations end me to think that spores very soon die n1 unSulitable dry air or when they fall upon muy imsultable matrix. Many other fun gus spores will germninato upon glass, It be ng always remembered that for this par oso the spores must be perfectly fresh romi) tho h)ymnlum of the parent fur.gus, T'ungus spores will grOw freely upod'qamp Aotting paper ; they cannot bm 4En avheu upon tlls mfateial, but thiey a~ 6e la8ihy transerred (by mete 00tat ta lamp glass slide. Bi4oral dunbQt ga ics, (as they atr9.often tormed~,i~ldn lio mnushroom, aro nqta oomone hsea snsi* ;o~or1ii The 1icyclo. As now constructed the bicycle 1. a far different thing front the clumsy "bonc shat terer" introduced in America about tenyears ago. Oreat companies have been formed lin 1Cugland which (1o nothing else but fabricate these extraordinary vehicles; and you hear young men talk about the superior speed of a "Coventry," a "Sparrow, 'or a "Stan ley." The fore-wheel being sixty inches, the back-wheel is so small that when the Inachine is in motion you can hardly see it. It is, by regulation, not two feet in tliamc ter. Lndeed, the appearance presented as these enormous flashing circles dart past on the smooth road is that of a great hoop of glittering steel with a human figure perch ed oi the top of it. The spokes are thin cords of steel wire, trending into the tire from a very wide hub. The general rule Is that the vehicles shall be high-that is, the saddle or chair of tie person who ridei It. As a consequence, to learn to Imnage one requires about such a training as an eites trian undergoes in a ridirg school, with this difference al( drawb,iek, and even when you have mastered tI e difliculty oh keeping your perilous seat, y, i are utiable to quit it, or, having (ui! ted it you aun 1n le to remount, without aid. This, ,.q you wilm see, neutralizes ti e value of these It.scina ting motors as n.cans of journeying in strange districts. But., in spite of tll their drawbacks, you will meet "mounts" of thent by the dozvin on all the smooth roads of Palatinat e, where the danger of sharp as cents and incessat tratile does not seemn to discourage the adventurous Briton. rThe accidents are not the least interesting part of this charming steed. You may be ad miring six feet of flesh and blood perched far above you on the high road, when of a sudden, like a flash, you see tle small rear wheel rise from the ground and climb the backbone of the big one ; then you see a convulsive scranble of feet and legs in the air, and your youtig I tercules is shot sprawl ing square over the handle or head of the thing, and lands with a somersault on the hard roadway in front, while the machine, a moment, before so erect and glistening, lies i a mess either on the rider or perilous ly near him. Ills only care, however Is to save the frail mechanism-for a good ma chlie costs not less than $150 and front that down to $50. At such a price It would be natural to suppose that they would be scarce, but, on the contrary, all classes of the continental English have them. I saw a company consisting of a dozen young Oxford mien set out from Strasburg for Cologne-150 miles away. There was a younger son of a dluke, the son of a cabi net minister, a minister's son, and the rest middle-class English. The captain of the party was a city merchant's boy and 1 gave the command to the company. lie was elected becanse of his physical pre eminence and his mastery over the bleycle. PUtting PIan t t8o seep. The idea of subjecting this remarkable plant to the action of aitestletics was nat ural, and several experiments of the kind are recorded, the plants having been put In vapors of ether or chloroform. Recently M. Arloing has mado some interesting ob servations of the effects of chloral, chloro form and other presented for absorption by the roots. The pots were sprinkled with aqueous solutions of these substances, then covered with care to prevent escape of the vapors. After absorption of chloroform or ether, one notes primary and secondary ef fects ; the former are phenomena of excl tation, similar to those arising from me chanical Irritation, and comparable to those In animals when anmstletized. They occur successively from the bottom to the top of the stem. In thirty to sixty minutes the common peticles (or leaf stems) straighten and the leaflets separate, beginning front the top of the stem; but t lie plant is now found to have lost Its sensIbIlity. 'rTe see ondlary effects consist of elimination of the anosthietlc.. Th'li sensibilhty often (loes not return for one andi a half oi two hours. Ohiloral (loes not act anmathetically on the sensitive plant. These observations af forded M. Arloing an opportunity of ascer taining the velocity of liquids in the stoam andt( branches of plants under strictly physi ological conditions, whtereas past experi nments on the subject have beeni made with withered or mutilated planta. If the leaves are In a goodi state, thte common petioles bend dlown sudldenly and successlvely froii below uphward in the platnt as the absorbed chloroform reaches them. 1lenice, know ing the (dimensions of the the plant, the ve locity of the chloroformtized water i the steim and pirlnary petioles can be easily cal culated. Within the stem, thto velocity Is modified by tihe state of the tissues and foli age, the temp)erature, etc. ; it was found In dliffereint cases, at the rate of 0.90 metres, 2.22m., 2.40m., 2.70m. per hoitr. The ve locity iucreases from the base to-tho top of the stem ini the ratio of 1 to 1.25 or 1.50, and It Is 1j times to twice as great in the petioles as in- the stenm. Theo time of ab sorp)tionl by the roots was found to vary fronm 8 to 01 mInutes. A ge of Glasu. The oldest specimen of pure glass hear ing anything like a (late is a little molded lion's head, bearing the name of an Egyp than king of eleventh dynasty, it the Shade collection at the British Museum. That is to say, at a period which may be moder ataly placed at more thtan 2,000 yeas B. C., glass was not only made, but made with a skill which shows that the art was nothing new. The Invention of glazing pottery with i fllm or varnish'of glass Is so old that amontg the fragments which bear Inscrip tions of the early Egyptian monarchy are beads possibly of the frst dynasty. Of la ter glass there are numerous exampl1es, sucht as a bead found at Thebes, which has theo name of Quteen Hlatasoo or Hlashoep, o1 the eightteenthi dynasty. Of the same per led are vases and goblets and mnuy frag ment.. It cannot be doubted that thte story prepared by Pliny, which assIgns the credit of thie invention to the Phcenichans, Is so far true that these adventurops merchants brought specimens to otber eotmntries from Egypt., , r. Scjdlimann foun4.disks pf glass1n theOxcavations at 1iycenwithough Homr des otAnetie itasa substance knowni to hi dg art of the glass blo'wer ~ ~ or,i cortai from ri'o ,.t tures on the walb6e~~ man, of thewht E a nilich older plcte ec~ kort4thoe*m Mifct~1 1ne om'4 muuvunUk 4:Hv -I FOOD FOR THOUGHT. 'lec memory of mischlet is no desira ble fame, To him that lives well every form of life Is good. Tlhe tormenit of envy is like a grain of tainid in the eye. T)ose who Itopo for no other life are dlead even for this. Do not siffer life to stagnate; it will grow muddy for want of motion. To the blessed eternity itself there Is no other handle than this instant. What the key is to the watch, the prayer is to our graces. The heart has its reasons, which Rea 8on (oes not apprehend. It is not life to live for one's self alone. Let us help one another. Many complain of their memory, but non1 of their judgment. A man seldom improves who has no better model than hiimself. Society could iiot long oubsist if ien were notthe dupes of one another. Consider no work completed that you might hava perforined more creditably He Is not so good as lie should be who does not strive to be better thati he Is. There Is not a property in nature but a mind is born to seek and find it out. Let us not inagine evils we. do not feel, nor injure life by misropr isenta The life of a solitary man will cer Inly be miserable, but not certainly devout. No evil Is insupportable but that which is accompanled with conscious ness of wrong. No indulgence of passion destroys the spiritual nature so much as respeot able selfishness. There are few doors through which liberality, joined with good humor, cannot find its way. The mind hath reason to remem ber that passions ought ;o be her vas sals not her masters. This is the present reward of virtu - ous conduct-that no unlucky conse quence can oblige us to reglet it. All virtue lies in the pdver of deny Ing our own desires Ayhen reason does not authorize or sanction them. Even gentleness can be acquired af tor a patient exercise of your better na ture. Clutch virtue as a priceless Jewel, and handle vice as you would a red-hot coal. How can we expect a harvest of thought who have not had a seed-time of character? Mankind worship success, but think too little of t e mneanq by which It is at tained. Mani jes of our motives by our ao tions.Go judges of our actions by our motives. The mIndof youth cannot reanin eip ty ; if you do notputlinte qI that which Is good, it will gather elsewhere that which is evil. If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should flnd in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disaru all.hoAtility. Young men often fail to get on in this world because they neglet small opportuuties. Not being taithful in little things, they are not promoted to'. the charge of greater things.. To put up with the woild is better than to control it. This Is the very acme of virtue. Religion leads us to it in a day philosophy only conducts to it by a lengthened life, misery, or death. When one flatteringly praises me always commends me, never rebukes, me, assists my faults, and forgives nie~ before I have repented--he.ls my ene my. Men must trust rather to their eyes than to their ears; the effeict of precept is, therefore, slow and tedious, whilst that of example is summary and effeo tual. It is not the strange slghts that wo shall see in heaven that will so nmich dlelighit us; not the glitter an~d the glory ; not the diamond and topas; no it is God, IIe is all and in all. . It is a great disgrace to religion to imagine that it is att eniemy to ,#irth" ' and cheerfulness, and a severe er% tractor of pensive looks and solem faces. Could wve but prevail with the gret. est debaucher. amonig us to - ohtng their lives, we should fInd it no very hard master to change their Jladkments It matters to us in life not so nuit what' part wve play, as it' does to.ply A ouiarvell. In a drama it 1a nots' uhaquestion who played th-k or the peasant, as who played the best. Life is a stream which contiuJ' flows on, but nevei' returns. WI dlaily; for each day takes awynb portion of life, Tihe dAya whIt~~ past are gone forever; the presOi -~ ment.only Is our own. No man can succeed in alh, t akings, and it would hot b him to do so. Things easilai go easily. It is by the struget' to obtain that we learn to ghl nate the valuo. The love of glory, the foa'd the design 'of making a ot i'* sir-of-tendoring life e*, id~ ble, and 'the humor, f~1d other nooplo, are ofte' y a~ that valor so, celebrat4 The soul may be e9p4 tA of battle, where,tq $tti6 single vicel but pbonent, and n6oteviu overborne by & nd h4e 4p Neye ye did'thr i in the PvneWr~.~ pand the nut~ect i~~ he rr; which' di'te it fluon s~111O~~ si11 Q P6ogia