The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, April 15, 1880, Image 1
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