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T1'RI-W EEKLY 1$DI TION. WINNSBQRO, S. C., APRIL 16, 1880. VOL. IV.-NO. 46. ABOUT KISSIG. Little child, when twilight shadows. Close the western gates of gold. Thou those loving arms of mother's Tenderly about the fold. Over lip, and cheek, and forehead, Like a shower caresses fall. For a mother's kiss at twilight Is the swooto, t kiss of all. Pretty maiden at the gateway, Shy, sweet face and downcast eye, Two white trembling hatide im; risonol, How the golden moment files! Lips that softly press thy forehead, All the rosy bushes oal; For a lover's kiss at twili;ht Is the fondest kiss of all. Happy wife, thy noble husband, More than half a lover yet For those sunny hours of wooing Are too sweet to soon forget On thy smiling lips unu'fted, Full of love his kisses fall, For a husband's kiss at parting Is the dearest kiss of all. Weary mother, little chi dron, With their dimpled hands so (atr, Passing over cheek and fnrehea, Soothe away all pain, ad care; Lead your doubting heart to Heaven, Where no dreary shadows fall, For the kiss of sinlise childhood Is the purest kiss of all. The Wife's Lesson. Myra was pouting. The unmistakable expression of Ill-temper dltsflgured her pretty face; and Ernest sighed as lie remembered how often it had been there during their brief married ex perience. Upon the breakfast table were standing the dishes of a substantial meal, in the dis order that followed their use. Breakfast was over, but Ernest still kept his seat, toying absently with a teaspoon, while Myra lodked at him with the cross look of a thwarted child. "Then you won't give me the dress!" she said. "I can't Myra. I really could not do it without running into debt." 'That's just an excuse. Papa always gave me the money for my clothes, even, if he was cross about soee other things." "Your father was a rich man, Myra, when we were married." "I wish lie was rich now. I'd ask him for the money I never thought you would be so stingy, Ernest." This last thrust was too much for the long enduring temper. Ernest Mather's voice was very stern as he answered: "I am not stingy, Myra. You knew I was a poor man when you marrieie, and that I could not give you the luxuries of your old home; but 1 have granted you every indulgence in my power without get ting into debt. That I will not do for your sake as well as mine." lie left her then, lingering in the hall as lie put on his overcoat, hoping she woild come for a kiss and a word of reconcilia tion. But she sat tapping her little foot upon the floor until the hall door closed, and then ran to her room crying. She was a spoiled child, the only daugh ter of a man who had been very wealthy, but who had hazarded his money in an un fortunate speculation and lost. A position abroad was offered him and he accepted it. Ills house and furniture which lie had given his daughter for a wedding gift, were settled upon herself, and not affected by his change of fortune. He knew Ernest Mauther to be 'an honor able man, who had a good business capacity and a high place in the esteem and confi dence of his employers and feltnaxey about Myra's future. t oanit So the little wife, as she made her pretty blue eyes all red with tears of temper, had no sensible mother to tell her how wrongly she was acting, no sister to sympathize wki her, no one to scold or humor her. . Under the circumnstances the tears were soon dried and Mrs. Mather went out for a walk. "It,'s no harm to look at the dress again, even if I can't, buy it," she sagd, as she tried on a coquettish little bonnet, 'and other4ilee beautified herself for the expedition. The day was bright, a soft warm morning in early spring, and thme shops were filled with temptina- fluery. In Myra's dainty portemonnale there was enough -money to p.urchase a number of nice litt,le parcels, even though the price of the expensive dress was denied her. So the morning slipped away and lunch eon tine found her chatting with Julia Maxwell, andl quito willing to accompany that friend on a second tour in ,the after noon. It was after five o'clock when-. tihe. littlet. matron, "tired to death," as she Raid reach ed her home.. Her first shock was c'atching. sight of Ernest's maiden aunt, Miss Cordelia Lowry, her especial aversioch and dread, seated upon the drawing-room sofa. 'Old horror!" she muttered. "I wish sh as at home. I want, to make up with Erntet. Idntlike the dress half as much as I did yesterday."- . Th'le second shock met her upon opening the deer of her beidroomi. Open boxes, closets, drawers, an air of general confusion ,everywhere, and that small trunk Ernest always took upon his sh.ort business trips missing altogether. Clearly her -htisbiand II'dd picked up ana gone, leaving Aunt Cordelia, as usual, to keep Myra comp)any. But where was he. .Upbn the dressing table was a nete di reeted to herself, and Mrs. Mather tore it open.. No loving address to herself, but merely; this: I hiave waited for your return asaong as posalble, and I write thIs to explain my absonae.~ I told you six marithms ago of Mr.' Agnew's pfoer to ingm if I woeitld a.ccept the piosition of traveler to -the house-double m.ly hiresent salary andl a liberal commission. 1 dolinedi it then bansaMsdho, moiey would never cempensato you for the consfAmnt separation. To-diay the offer is rened.cl rAfto' lr' convergt1otf this morning Ith1Ink'ybut .only. obJectioh Allti hardly.have any weight; so I have accepted and leMy M,a* hourp '331J1 Writ you dress you desire. I have sent for Aunt Cordella, as usual, to stay with you. - EaNEST MATIER. Not a loving woid, not a word of regret for the long separation. Myra realized -theu how considerate and loving. her husband had been under the weary vexations of her whims and caprices. Great tears rolled down her cheeks as she bitterly reproached herself. "I have made him believe I don't care for anything but money," she thought. He leaves me this to console me for his absence. Oh, Ernest, come home again and I'll wear calico and a sunbonnet to church before I'll tease you for finery again I" It was not an easy matter to go to dinner and meet Aunt Cordelia, but it must be done. It was no now thing for that worthy spin ster to see Myra in tears when Ernest was away on business, so she only expressed a desire to see "any man alive she'd cry for," and said no more about the little wife's red eyes. The days pgssed very, very wearily. Aunt Cordella preachOd only sermons to Myra upon extraVagico aid virldus other female weakness, till the poor little woman Nished she was as homely and ill looking as her tormentor herself. "You never see me with such a dress in the house as that," the spinster world say with a complacent glance at her dyed skirts. "I buy clothes to wear," Myra retorted. "If I had as much money as you, Aunt Cordrlia, I'd be ashamed t.; go about in such dresses." And bhe spinster would shake her head and groan audibly, ')ityinhly, "poor, dear Ernest." ''You never gee me," was her ever open ing address. And Myra grew to hate the words in the long uonths of her enforced companion ship. For-Ernest did'not return. Spring, summer, autumn passed away, and Deceml'er was opening, yet still he did not conic. Every month a formal letter reached Myra, inclosing a check for expenses of such liberal value as to prove Ernest was moking money; but each one informed her that her husband was just leaving the place from which he wrote and made no mention of his next destination. Ieart-:ick, penitent-, and ohI so lonely, the little wife spent only what was neces sary for the house, and fairly loathed the sight of the money that was accumulating in her hands. Letter after letter she wrote and dostroy ed, not knowing where to direct them. She was growing so pale and worn, so quiet and subdued, that Aunt Cordella's most hateful speeches went often unan swered. She was sitting in the drawing room one cold December morning, when Mr. Agnew, Ernest's employer, came in. "I am sorry to disturb you Mrs. Mather," he said, .but t wish to inquire of you if you have heard.from Ernest this week." "Not since the first," she replied. "He wrote us on the fifth that he would remain in Cumberland until the first of the year, and was to send some papers on th? seventh. These have not tome and we are embarrassed for want of -them. I tele graphed yesterday but have no reply. How over, if you have not heard lie is ill, he is probably better. "Ill," she faltered. "Well, I judged from his last letter that he had not fully recovered from the fever lie had, althbugh lie had resumed busmness. if you hear to-day will you be kind enough to send us word?" "Certainly," Myra managed to gasp in a choking voice, and Mr. Agnew was gone. "I111 A fever l Sick at a hotel and she not nearl Ernest, her Ernest!" All the love in the lIttle womain's heart rose to protest. She astonished Aunt'Cor della by dashing into that' lady's room cry ing: "Take care of the house?i I'm going to Oumberland I" and dashed out again as abruptly. The trunk was packed. Myra never knew what wvent into it. She hugged her halhrd of money. Carefuhiy she p)ut it in the bosom of her dress. She cried and laughed and acted general ly like a lunatic. The afternooni found her' in an express train, iushilpg to Ernesta.s fast as steam could darry- er. In a wide, pleasant room, Ernest Mather lay upon lila bed dangerously ill. Hie had been for months trying'to quiet his sick, restless heart by over-working his body, kceeping such business hours, such cares and labors in his work, that the firm at home never ceased coiugratulating them selves oni their choice of a traveler. lie made money fast, supply Myra with a geiierous hand, and yet saved consider ably. 1"rwhatl~~ ~ (Bi tely)go. th ght that When lhe was a very i.d umaif'hdould go liome and try to make Myra contented. Hie tried to fancy that lie had ceased to love her; but the unceasing craving of his heart for the sight of her' face and the adiund of her voIce contradicted it. WVork, work, work I That was the me4iciue for his mental pain, till the ovetrwrdught brain' gave way, the overtaxed b'ody succumbed and he lay ill with fever for two wveek.s. .Up again before his strength was half re stored, and now the relapse had prostrated him and lie, lay suffering, ap'parently dying, .toe ill to.send for Myra, too ill to give dl.s r'ectiune, ted ill to do any more than lj. holplens at the mercy of strangers. 'he long night was passing, and the cold gray dawn announced another wintry day, when a vehicle drove up..at.the door of tige hotel, and in a dim, confused way Ernest heard the bustle of the no'w arrived t,ravel ers. ,11e wvas vaguely wondering if any friend 'Voald comne to him, when the door of his room opened very softy and ho heard the waiter'say: "Mr., Mathier is here." A soft situ.e rustle followed1 and tehen two copl hands fell upon his hot forghead, tears andt kisses followed, and Myra was sob. bing: edQ,ae ,drig thank God1 I nave foumd you! 11,O dear, forgive me Hie was too sick to talk tch, but ho 181}- ftuu y ti rsand his businesi, dudste nW al pIn the sweet con sciousness that love had come to him, a w s,~Ips1pqu ua th' looked back upon it as the beginning of their true happiness. Doubts and repinings were swept away in the danger of a separation in the grave, and all Myra's penitence went into such self-sacrIficing devotivn as snatched her husband from the very jaws of death to her side again. Vacation Thu dry goodi clerk receives permisslon to go off into the country for two weeks to rusticate. He receives his fortnight's pay in advance, and is as happy as a butterfly in the bosom of a tulip as he glides out of the city. lie genera ly goes to visit some farmer relative, for then he can have all the fresh milk he wanti, aind besides won't be obliged to pay any hoard. The latter is the feature which makes the farm prefer able to a fashionable watering place. le never visits the farmer a second time, as he is discovered to be a philosopher of no nican order. lie tells the young man that a lie has been confined ini a close store for a year, all he wants to brace him up is to dig a little, so he takes him out and. intro duces him to a two-acre lot of potatoes which neuds hoeing. Of course he can't decline and offend his host, so lie shoulders the hoe and goes to work in a manner which would lead a casual observer to Imagine him to be committing murder under special contract. The way he makes the hoe fly around his head and the number of potatoes he chops in half ought to be warning to the agriculturist to cali him off. This lie would do if he knew the dn.g that was being done ; but lie doesn't-he only sees the hoe fly around, and that makes him smile and exclaim : "Well, now, I swan if he ain't a gosh blamed lively boy." After that he is asked to chop some wood and turn a grindstone for an hour or two, the farmer, asserting that these thing9 are extremely healthful in their tendencies, and withal quite the thing for a young ntan who works in a store all the year. On the following day lie is asked to help lix a stone well, and, being rather slender and light, is selected as the most available person around the place to be lowered down the well to fasten the bucket to the chain. After lie has been in the country for about two days lie begins to sigh for the city, and.to be back again in a store in charge of a cross-grained employer with yel.ow hair. lie is by that tune complete ly used up, and wonders if he has fallen down stairs or been run over by a lumber wagon. He thinks even a residence of Zuzuland, with fever and ague thrown in, would be sweeter. lie feels like asking the fariner to pension him. In an ecstacy of despair he gets his brother to telegraph to himr saying there is a death in the family md he must return imiediatoly ; and as lie departs,' the farmer remarks that he doesn't seem to "take on" much, and that lie is about the happiest mourner lie ever raw in his life. The Secret of Success. A few days since I met a gentleman thp".o!V.nor of large p iper-mills. lie took i)b through time mil a, and showed the great vats of pulp, and.the great piles of paper oady for the market; and a world of things which I did not comprehend. After seeing ill the machinery, and hearing his praises is ipon, and how they sent for United 3otes,stocks, fifty and a hundred dollars at i tiuio, every time -he went to the city, I said:, ""Will you ple"6 sir, tell me the secret .f your great success? For you tell me you began life with nothing." "I don't know as there is any secret about Lt. When 16 years old I went to S. to work. I was to receive forty dollars a year And my food.no more and no less. My clothing and a;ll my expenses must conme out of the forty dollars. I their soleumnly promIsed the Lord that I would give Him one tenth of my wvages, arid also that I would save another tenth for my future capital. ' TIs resolution I carried out, arid after laying aside one-tenth for the Lord, I had at tire end of the year .rnuch more than mm tenth for myself. I then pronised the Lord whether He gave me more or less, I never would give less than oe-tenth to Him. To this vow I have conscientiously adhered from that day to this; and If there be any secret to my success, I attribute it to this. I feel sure I ami far richer on my rine-tenths (though I hope thmat I don't now limit rry charities to one tenth) than If I kept the whrole."~ "How do you account for It?" "hi'tWd e First. lI bollve God has bbleehsc4a it d'm/ybusiness to pros liet; an) sche .,I hayo so learned to be careful and economical that my nine-tenths go far beyond what the whole wvould. Arid I believe that airy man who will mrake the trial wi'll find it so. Popular Farllacies. Night air and damp woathier are held In great horror by multitudes of personrs - who are sickly or of weak constitutions, coniso quently, by. avoiding tIre night air, arid damp weather, . and changeable weather, that is considered too hot or too cold, they are kept within doorg munch tire largest por tion of their time, arid as a matter of course continue invalids, rmore and more ripening for tire grave every hour; tire reason is, they are breathing an impure atmiosphiere ninetecn-twentiths of their whole exist ence. As nothing can wash us clean but pure water, so nothing can cleanse tire blood, nothing can mamke health-giving blood, but thre agency of pure air. So ~great Is ~Jotendgney of tire blood to be Qonmeif4i ro in conseque ncof waste', and uselbssmnatter roixing with It as it passes thrrough thre body, that it requires a hogs head of altrevery'horit'fotrr'llveu 'tO un lohudlit of thiese impur'tids/ but ina propor tion'as tIhe air Is vItiated, In such propor tion does it infalljbly fail to relieve tIre blodd1 of these urmpurities, and impure blood is thre fourrdation of all disease. The great fact that those who are out of doors mnost, summer hmfia winter,'day and night, rain or uiie, havb the best health the world over, does of itsolf falsify thie-gencral impression that nIght air or any ther out door air Is -unhealthry as compared with indoor air at the mamne time. Air Is tire, groat ncesity of life; gmuch so,that:f depylved of it for a mqLmentg we perish; and po constant is~the heieb 'itfof tHe blood for bontact with tihe sos~wphreypthat every drop In the~ body Is edposell tothe air thnori h the riuitrn of the lig. lvery two mintites and a half of our ogistance. -Sudide 43 lsprhu Our Smal Boy's A Irat Circus. It was an event In the early life of our boy Charley, and, as le says, he derived a lesson from it that has been of use to himt since-a lesson to the effect of making sure of a landing placo before leaping, le shall tell the story himself: 1 was twelve years old when the big cir cus came to our village, of Conway, N. Ii., and exhibited on land belonging to Ham Thorn. For many days before its advent the great flaming posters had glared upon the sides of barns, upon fences, and on the walls of our stories, and I was eager to see the sight. But I must earn the no ney, for my mother had it Iiot to spare. It was during the planting cits,)n, and I found odd jobs enough at dropping corn and po tatoes, ant such like, to enable me to earn he coveted quarter. The (lay came, clear and bight, and those who Lve passed the entraneng ordeal, and can remember the feelings of boyhood, will know how the grand entry of the circus, wit i the band playing, the performers aid their horses bedecked in glittering arty, and the two elephants grandly hoping along--how it all affected me. It did not seem as though I could wait for the opening hour; but I waited, nevertheless. When dinner had been eaten, and we were ready to set forth, my mq[hur, believing that the nren-folks wouid not bother themselves in looking out for me, gave me particular directions for my conduct. "Now, Charles." she said, "you will look out for your money ; you will see whnre ithe people are going in ; aid do you look sharp and go in iyit'i theni. Jive your money to the man that you see others paying, and be sure you Ion't make any mistake." But I didn't get half o her directions. If I had b' en patient t listen, I might have been spared the gri to which I was destined ; for she afterwa ds declared that she had warned me again that very thing. But I was only a boy, au 1 suppose I had a boy's lesson to learn. I got off at length, and ran all the way to the village. I stood in a crowd for an hour, listening to music which I could not see; and at length I saw men pushing towards the entrance to a tent, and I join ed in and pushed with them. I saw folks give money to a red-faced man who stood in a passage-way of canvas, and I heard music beyond. I gave I im my quarter, and ho gave me back twelve cents. I thought I was getting in for ief price, and looked around. M,ercy! How my heart saiik 1 I don't know how many spectators were there; but for a show I saw what the man who exhibited called the Five-legged Horse I Then there were t*o White Negroes, on a platform ; and a man grinding a hand organ. And that was all I I had just seen so much, when somebody caied out that the circus was open 1 and upon that there was a rush for the entrance. I went out, and looked up at the tent I had been into, and then discovered that it was. but a small affair-one of the -catch-penny side shows always aceompanying the big circus. I looked aromid for our men-folks-men who lived with us-but could not find them. Most likely they had gone in. I asked the man at the entrance if he.would let me in for twelve cents. lie said I must go and buy a ticket. I -found the man who sold tickets, and when I asked him a like ques tion lie laughed at me. And then 1 went heme, crying. all the way: and when I had told my -mnother of my grief she soothed me by declaring tiat I was the biggest fool she had ever seen, and she would take me over her knee if I did ndt stop crying. Well-I got over it an time; and It taught me a valuable lesson. From that clay 1 have never paid money to enter a show, or for any other purpose, without being first assured that I was headed in the right diarectioui. Fifty Miles of sheods. On the Ceantral P~acific ratiroad,'ill the Sierra Neva<da amountains, are near fifty mliles of snow sheds.- lThey are built with timIbers from1 12 to 13 inches aquare, to support a roof of 3 incha planaks, laid two or ltree Inchecs apart, thae openling to let in light and let out the smIoke of the locomno tives. .In someo places for hundr-eds of feet they are built upon01 the sides of perpenadicua 1sar or slop)ing rocks, and protect the'-track from the imamense masses of snow an'l ice that slide down the mouantain side fr-oam hundreds of feet above. Thke comnpara tively small amlount of snow t.hat passesC throughl the apertures between the plan11ks of the aoof is easily removed by the sno0w plowvs and the shovels oIf the mien who are constantly ona dutly ill these shedls. Were it nlot for these sheds along t,he grando amounatain peaks of the Sicrr-as anmd the gareat canons tihe tr-ack of the Pacific railh-oad wouald of teal he covered with snow and Ice for miales, at a depth of twent.y or thirty feet. But while pr-otecting thec railwvay tracks, these aasasive sheds haide from1 viewv of passen getrs soane of the granadest vaews of thaose majestic mlountnans. A few weeks since, an imnmenlse snow shide dlown thp steel) dhe clivity above a port ion of the sheds cruash ed in the mnassive timbers and covered upl several workmaen. It did consIderable dam age. A Ban1 Francisco writer tells of thae way an approaching traint dashed into thae pile of snow and crushedo timbers as follows: Shortly after train No. 6 camne dashaing Into the debris and tot-c down tmore sheds, In j urihig thle engineier, George Hlamlton. Th'lreoeothter tmen, whao were bua-ied for qitte a timle, were fiaaally pulled out and found to be siightly injured. Theo snow plow froam Truckee, which reached the wreck soon afterward, took that portlonl of the train which reimacd itact back to Ciasco. On Staturday mnor.ning, early, five hundred feet more of shed tiumbled together and threw more obstacles In the way of de layed trainls. At, Taamarr.ck necarly a thou ad feet of snow sheds suaccumbelJd to the heavy weight of- the sanow which the ter ride gale had blown umpon them. 'lThe storm lasa been the most deCstruictive one which over occur-red sInce time opeing of the over' land route. Thec passengers who arrived from the scene further stated that they were astoutndedl on seeing thes huge masses of snow piled as hig~h as the housetops on eithaer aide of the track. Thle big tilnbers of thle snow sheds snapped like matches when the irresistible avalanches came roll ag. down the moutntsin sides. and tore down everytt.ing In their way. IThe wind Is .WId tohiave blown dt a terrific rate and has done an Immense amount of damage among the' timber." NIow itt the *erld can au. toaU5ng debt be paid ouat of' a e$inMng fuw Vietoria on her Throne. When Victoria opened Parliament, she acknowledges the grave meeting of her lieges by scarcely more than a glance of the eye. The head bent slightly, perhaps, but I am not sure. She, too, walks slowly; there Is no vulgar hurry about any part of the business. As she rounds the corner of the dais, her face is turned full toward our gallery. it is the business of courtiers to say that the Queen looks always well. For my part, I thought she had grown gray since last I saw her, and that the lines of the temples and about the mouth were ten deeper than ever. It can never have been more than a comely face, and there is noth ing, strictly speaking, in its contour, and nothing in the figure, which can be called beautiful or noble. What strikes you, 1 nevertheless, is the air of authority and the i air of stern sincerity which sits upon this I royal brow and marks the least gesture of the Queen. The sadness of the face is pro fonadly touching; the dignity with which t the burden-the all but intolerable burden of her life-is borne, appeals to your re spect. She is here, they say, to mark once more her sympathy with the First Minister I of the Crown; and with the party which, under his guidance, has been leading the country so strange a dance these three years past. But polities are forgotten in such a presence; and any criticism one has to offer I is put decently aside so long as the woman i and Queen is present. When she has seated herself upon the royal robes spread over F the throne-which she might have nrorn, one would think-there is again a pause, t ahuost solemn, and there is time to observe 0 the gown whies1 iiao nutjesy of Einglani I has on. The Majesty and Beauty of Eng land are face-to face, for the Princess sits t nearly opposite; and as the Princess is per haps the best dressed woman in the room, i so is the Queen almost the worst. 11cr I gown is of velvet, with broad longitudinal i streaks of miniver or ermine running down 1 the skirt and horizontal trimmings to match I about the body. But you need not atop to t look at it, the Koh-i-noor glows in her cor- C sage, and a nlmninture crown of diamonds C shines above the stony head. The Princess a Beatrice, in blue velvet, stands by her I mother's side, with traces of the womanly attractiveness which belongs to her sister t Louise, now reigning over the hearts of I our Canadian friends. There was sonic I manouvering with footstools and arrange- I ment of trains, and the Queen's veil had to I be extricated from the netted woi k of the I throne. 'hen the Queen said "Pray, be seated," and once more came silence. The Cbanging Earth, The student of history reads of the great sea-fight which King Edward Ill. fought with the French off Sluys; how in those days the merchant vessels came up to the walls of that flourishing sea-port by every tide; and how a century later, a Portugese fleet convdyed Isabela fromu Lisbon, and an English fleet brought Margaret of York from the Thames, to. marry successive Dukes of Burgundy at the port. of Sluys. In our time, if a modern traveler drives twelve miles out of Bruges, across the lMutch fron tier, he will-find a small agricultural town, surrounded by cornfields and meadows and clumps of trees whence the sea is not in sight from the top of the town-hall steeple. This is SluyP. Once more. We turn to to the great Baio du Mont Saint Michel, be twecn Normandy and Brittany. in Homan authors we u .d of the vast forest called "Seticumi Nemius," in the centre of which an isolated rock arose, surmounted by a temple of Jupiter, once a,college of Druid esses. Now the samne rock, with its glori ous pile dedicated to St. Miehel, is stir rounded by the sea at high tides. The story of this transformation is even more striking than that of Sluys, and its adequate narration justly earned for M. Manet the goild medal of the French eograplincal So ciety in 1828. Once agaiin. Let uie turn for a moment to the Mediterranean shores of Spain, and the mountains of Murcia. Those rocky heights, whose peaks staindl out against the deep blue sky, scarcely supl poit a blade of vegetation. hei algarobams. and olives at their bases are artificially supl plied with soil. it is scar cely credible that these are the same mountains which, ac cordling to the forest book of King Alphonso el Sabio, wvere once clothed to theIr sum-. nits with pines and other forest trees, while soft clouds and ilt hung oveir a roundeid, shaggy outline of wood where iow the naked rocks make a hard line against tine burnished sky. But Arab and Spanish'chroniclers alike record thne facets, and geographical science exp)lamns the caus~o. There is scarcely a district in the whole range ot tine civilized world where somne equally interesting geographical story has not beeni recorded, andl where the ameo val uiable lessons may not b)c taught. This is compa)rative geography. Flower:s on thne Table Set flowvers on your table-a whole nose gay if you can get it, or but two or three, or a single flower-a rose, a pink, a daisy, and you have something that reminds you of. God's creation, and- gives you a link with tine poets th)at have dlone jt most honor. Flowers on tine morning table are especially suited to them. They look like the happy wakening of tine creation; they bring tihe I perfume of the breath of nature into your roomi; they seem tine very representative I and. embodiment of thne very smile of your home, the graces of good morrow ; proofs 1 that some intellectual b)eautles are In our selves or those about us, somne Anrora (if we are so lucky as to have such a compan ion) helping to strew our life wIth Sweet ness, or in ourselves some masculine wildi emrness not unworthy to possess sueh a coin panion or unlikely to gain her. flnts on Starteing a Fire. Starting a fire is a familiar dlally oxereise for thousands of thousands throughout tine United States at all times; bitt there are many wino do not know tine beat way. Con centration is the leading feature In this lit tie, but very Important domestic duty. 1st, tine fuel should be concentrated, that Is, put together in a compact heap; and 2d, In a place on the grating where tine draft can be concentrated upon it. These two points gained, it is an easy matter to produce a brisk firos When tine kindling, which we have presupposed -was dry and i.n suflcient quantity, is. well started, the wood or coal, as the case may be, ik so p'ut on that tine draft and flame will pass directly through the fuel. 'in starting a fire, all do pends. upon having the conditions all right, and great lose of time, and 'evdE. patience, is IVnsured if they are no providd, Images in Ice. "Come out here," said the ice-image mat leading the way to his back yard, "an I'Il show you some work I am doing now. The ice-image man's back yard was nc larger that! the average Philadelphia bac yard. It had the conventional brick pavinp intd upon this paving were strewn variou okens of the image man's calling. Fire iid foremost there was a huge squar >lock of ice, fresh from the icc-houst \ext there was a large pile of ice shaving mnd small crumbs, the immediate result a he latest effort in the way of a large ic lohe which at that instant sat on the to >f the table, not yet relieved from its basc he image man having been, in fact, enga ;ed ( upon this piece of work when the rmn it his door bell called him away for a m nent. Next there. was a three-cornere hisel and a large knife, and lastly, ther vere a number of tubs standing around ii he yard, all covered with heavy pieces o anvis. "Now there,'' said the image man, point ug out his latest work, "is a globe. Tha s made to go on this-I'll show you." Ill vent to a barrel and lifted up the image o crooked-backed individual In his shir leeves, and with his arms bent akimbo am is head bowed as if he had the world of Is shoulders. It was Atlas, a gentlemat iot unknown to those versed in mythology )n his back was a smooth place for the lobe to rest. "Now that,'' said the Image man, indica ing the globe, "goes on here. We maki hole in the back of the image and leave i ittic tenant or bolt on the under side o lie globe and slip it in, which joins thi wo firmly together. 'The globe had been hollowed out unti was perhaps about one inch in thickness a the top was a hole large enough for i mn year-old boy to thrust his flat in-and oy who has ever purloined his tmother'i reserves from a slender-mouthed jar wil nderstand this-and inside there was i apacity for about. a half a gallon of raw ysters, the use to which these ice image ,re mos.ly applied at banquets, entertain tents, weddings, or other festive occasions fter exhibiting this, his latest product ii he line of art, the image man. growin tore enthusiastic as he saw the interest o: is visitor on the increase, went to one o: tie several tubs, raised a cenvas and dis ilayed a wooden cover on which was laced a lot of ice chips to keep that which mILQ benel, cool ; then lie raised the covei nd disclosed the Image of an ice swat float in a large dish of water. The wingi ere carved in the most skilful manner t,d were almost.as thin as glass and nearlj s transparent. While the interest wa entered on this object the basement dooi lened and the image man's wife, like the od wife she was, came out to share the tiliration which was being lavished of er husband's work. "'Taint nothing like it would be if the c was good and clear. Sometimes, whet ie has good ite, you can't tell his image rot glass. "Yes," said the image man, ''this ice eferring to the yet uncut block that stooc it the yard-''is not as clear as I have beet ised to working up. I make up things ib inuy difl'erent designs--elephants, einmels liainond dishes and Atlases, as you se< ere. I have some diamond dishes," sait he image man, going down into a tub 'which look very much like glass." lie brought up one of the dishes in ques ion, the sides of which were nicely orna iented by the carving of flowers and vine: hereon. "That dish," he said, "isn't i lear as I sometimes make them. Must hav rystal ice to do good work in that way." "I (to wish the gentleman could hav een the elephant,'" said the wife, whost nterest in her lord's work had not been (Ii linished by repeated descriptions ; it wia eantiful. Hlad a Illindoo sittln' on a sad lie, and in this saddle wvas a hole wher< he oysters wvent In. And there was amnel, that elephant, and that camel, I d; hinak, wvere the beautlfulest things 1 ovel aiw in my life." Fuirther talk revealed the fact that. the intage man had a mlonopotly of the busIness nd combining it with his vocationi as a aterer' drove a quite Ilourishing trade. Out idIe of the imnmediate dlemandls for variou nter'talimenits, deimnds that came to hii lrectly from headquarters, lhe (d1d an er ensive business in the image line througi lie various caterers of the city, who inva laly wvent to him for supplies onl greta eccasionis. llis designs wecre in many easci he result of instructions from those ordIer ng the images; they would give him the denas and lhe would work them upl. Some iesigns would lbe popular at, this iplacec while others would be more applropriate hi hat pla1ce. Ills best work lies iln the di ection of camels and elephants with lIlin Iloos on t,heir backs. I lore ho is entirely a omue, as lie also is in fashioning out mnytho ogical characters, in all of which the utili arman and thme ortnmntal spirit tire'hiappilj otmi)ned. Th'le quadrupujedal and thme fhIe Iesignis are usually sold ias recep)tacles to: aw oysters; the designs In the way o: liamiond and1( lohemian vases are some imes used for fruit as well a8 for oyAters ['le business of inaking them during the >ast year or so has grown in importanice rho Image man during the fashionable sea on before the advent of Lent, used up er i average 8,500 pounds of Ice a week It mamge miaking alone. The cost of Ice durinj lie winter has been twenty cents a hun LredI. ie sells the liuages for from $1.5( p to $b ap)iece. A Swimmer's Perit. Th aa (Coyle, a laborer in Roach's sil rard at Chester, Pa., who will be romemb ered by the sportitng world', as the opponen f Johnson, thme English -swimmer,. in thi ace on the D)elaware, from Cheater t< *louecster, August '24, 1875, and for hi rarious swimming exploits, boasted recent y that he would enter the river in March mud swim a distance of two miles withiou ojury. Thme feat was set down for the Oti >f Marcha, and at half-past five, amid a argo crowd.of people who had collected a lhe ship yard to witness it, Coylo entoree lie water. The course was to be up th [Delaware to Chester Creek and thence u] itream to the Deal House. Coyle starte >ut evidently in good trim, but before hi fad been in elgghteenu minutes signs of ex 'uausti And cramps indicated that h would not be able to hold out. -ils condi Ion soon became so. alarming tbat hers piIcked up and conveyed to the Beal Hi~ where lie remained in an insensible' an preaarlous condition for some hours. Coyl ii about fohy-thmree years of age. flow miten pain t he ovls have QQq6 y hat neyer hap negi, FOOD FOR THOUGHT. An epicure desires but one dish; the i gltatton would have two. A lie is a desperate cowardice; it is t to fear man and bravo God. Do we judge of a tree by its rough or smooth bark, or by its fruit? Love labor; if you do not want 16 for your food, you may for physie. A libation is better than a potation; wine is often better spilt then drank. It Is better to do the idlest thing in the world than to sit idle for half an hour. What a dread of death must some people have who would rather be dying than dead. In the whole Hebrew dictionary there Is no word to express nature or philosophy. Limit your expenses by necessity and comfort, leaving a good ballanco for margin saved. Those who cannot bring their work to their wind should bring their mind to :heir work. Man cannot become perfect Ina hun dred years; he can become corrupt In less than a day. A wise man reflects before he speaks; a fool speaks, and then reflects on what he has uttered. Give your personal attention to your business. To do this, keep brain and body healthful. 'T'hey are only horses and cows in clothes who neglect the study of the past and present. Do not consiler any virtue trivial, and so neglect it; or any vice trivial, and.so practice it. Get what you get honestly, peacea bly, and prayerft'lly; then you will enjoy it gratefully. Lovers are apt to hear through their eyes; but the safest way is to see through their ears. Most of the shadows that cross our path through life are-caused by stand ing In our own light. Men who never violate their eon sciences are not startled by a knock at the door at midnight. An ounce of generous praise will do. more to make a man your friend than a pound of fault-finding. The four characteristics of mankind; to built a house, to raise a tree, to write a book and to have a hlild. Man miust be initiated in the mystor les of iniquity in order the more safely to pursue the paths of virtne. To have respect for ourselves guides our morals; to have a deference for others governs our manners. if you regard yourself as the guar dian of your own honor be careful that your position Is not a sinecure. The generality of men expend the early part of their lives in contributing to render the latter part titiserable. When a misfortuae is Impending I cry : "God forbid I" but when it falls upon me I say, "God be praised 1" All young animals are merry, and all old ones grave. An old woman is the only ancient animal that ever is frisky. It Is a great deal easier to build cast les in the air when you are young than it is to live in them when you are old. The manner of a vulgar man has freet (lomn, without case, and the manner of a gentleman has ease without freedom. There l frequently more love in a frown thtan there could be in a smile "As many as . love, I rebuke and chas ten." A man of sense is not ashamed of poverty, or of deliberately confessing it, but lie keeps the marks of it out of sight. A holy life is a voice; it speaks when the tongue is silont, and is ineither a constant attraction or, a p)erpetual re proof. Be hont,est. If Satan temp)ts you to def raudi your n.el ghbor, it is only that lhe may roh you of your ill-gotten gaini in the enid. A tman's fortune should be the rule for his sparing not spending. Extrav aigancee may be supported, not justilled, tby ailuence. 'l'ears are notmanulyl lWell, the high est type of man hood that ever blessed earth witth his iresence wept on more thani oneO occasion. it is a very good tihing to nican well, but if you expect to geton In the world you mutst also do wel. Good inton tlins pay tno debts. 4-man shio':ld always look upward fpfcomnforts for whent the heaven above 6urlheadsa is dlark, the earth under oar f4otis sure to be darker. Acotivity, like zeal, is only valuable as it. Is applied, but most people bestow thteir ptraises on the quality, and give little hood to thte purposes to which it is dlireted. Let us think miuch of rest-the rest whieh is not of indolence, but of pow.. era in perfect equiiibriumi; rest whieh is deep as summer sunshine, the Sab bath of eternity. It is in th'o nature of men and things that education, no less tihan religion must be personally experienced to bo o, the largest bonetit. Invest your funids earefumlly and in telligently. Beware of the brilliant bubbles that are blown up to tempt i genious speculators. We esteem in the world those who do not merit our esteem, and neglect per Sons of true worth ; but the world Is like thte ocean, the pearl Is in Its depths, the sea-weed swims. Manhood in the Christian life Is a better thing thani boyhood, becauase it Is aripo ting, an old age ought to' be a brighter, and a calmer, and a snore se rene thing than manhood. The World is a looking.glas, and gives back to every man the reflection of.hls own face. Frown at 45, and it will Iturn and look surly upnyou;t laugh at tt and with it, and ti pleasant, >kind, companion. Don't flatter yourself that ,friendshiu Sauthorizes you to say disagreeable ', - things to your intimiates6 OkiSW th# a trary, the nlearer you cole it v elaim -with a petrson, the e desse S tantt and courtesy be -s Our sight is thowi gtuofall ou sdnps5