The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, August 28, 1880, Image 1

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* ~'~"" ~ 4-~1,'.*,, ****~i~* '.~ .. j.. ~ * - .* *. * *. . * * * _____ __ aftb_~HLeta1b,___ -. ------------.----------.---.....~..... ~ . __________________________________________ 'fRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORQ, S. C., AUGUST 28, 1880. VOL. IV.-NO. 104. WHERE SNALL I RET? **My feet are wearied and my hands are tired . My soul oppressed And with desire have I longed, desired, Best-only rest, "'Ti hard to toil, when toil is almost vain. In barren ways ; 'Tie hard to sow and never garner grain in harvest days. "The burden of my days is hard to bear But God knows best ; And I have prayed, but vain has been m3 prayer, For rest-sweet r st. "'Tie hard to plant in spring and never reap The autumn yield ; 'Tie hard to till-and when 'tie tilled to weep er fruitLeas field. "And so I cry, a weak and human cry, So heart-oppressed ; And so I sigh, a weak and human sigh, For rest-sweet rest. "My way has wound across the deaert years, And cares infest My path ; and through the flowing of hot tear I pine for rest. "'Twas alwa3a so ; when still a child, I laid On mother's breast My wearied little head ; e'en then I prayed, As now, for rest. "And I am restless still; 'twill soon be o'er For down the west Life's sun Is setting, and I see the shore Where I shall rest." - Fred's Speculation. Mrs. Gorham put down a letter she ha( been reading, and looking around th( table on her blooming daughters and tw< tall, handsome sons, said in a dolefu tone: "Your Aunt Zablna is coming to the clty, and has invited herself here." "When?" asked Arabella, with an in tonation of disgust. "She will come In the train that arriveE at 4 o'clock this afternoon. Will, you wil, have to meet her." "Sorry, ma, but I've promised to driv< Miss Caldwell in the park. Fred cat go." "C'ertainly, I will go," Fred said, bravely, though there was a hot Itush or his forehead. "I am very fond of Auni Zabina." "Nonsensel" said his mother, "you hav not seen her for fourteen years. I nevei went near the detestable farm after you father died.' "Nevertheless, I have a vivid recollqc tionof Aunt Zabina's kindness when w( were there, of her doughnuts and cookies, and bowls of milk with red strawberries it them. ". "Dear me, Fred," drawled Lucille, "dom't be sentimental. I wish the old thing would stay at home and fry dough nuts. I can't imagine what she is cominj here for." "ihe is our father's sister," said Fred, "and is there anything surprising in he looking for a welcome among her brother'i children ?" Mrs. Gorham shrugged her shoulders It she had spoken hei thought it woul have been: "Fred is so very odd, just exactly Ilk( hs father." But she only said: "I may depend upon you, then, to meel your aunt, Fred? I will see about he room." It was a source of great satislaction t( Mrs. Gorham that her children weie all like herself, "true Greers every one ol them excepting Fred," she would say, con gratulating herself that the plebeian blood of Gorham pere was not transmitted it the blood of her elder son, Wilbur, or any of the three girls. That Greer pride meant intense selfish. nleas; that Greer beauty was of a cold, hard type, that Greer disposition was tyranni cal and narrow-minded, did not troubl< Mrs. Gorhamn. That the son was "all Gor. ham" was proud to the core with the trut pride that knows no false shame, that h< was noble mi, disposition, handsome, in;a frank, manly type, generous and self sacrificing she could not appreciate. His hands and feet were not so small as darn. ing Will's; he had no fashionable affecta tions, and no "Greer" look. So his mother thought him rough and coarse, and his as ters declared that he had no style at all. .But outsido of the home, where greal shows of wealth were made by private economies, Fred was more appreciated. When ho became a man, and knew thal his father's estate, though sufficient -t< give him every comfort, was not larg enough for the extravagance his mother in. dulged in, he fitted himself for business and took a position in a counting-house at book-keeper, thus becomIng self-support lug, although his mother declared that ni Greer had ever been In trade. That th money she lived upon was made in soaj boiling, the fashionable lady Ignored en tirely. Darling Will had studied law, but hise first client has not yet appeared, an< Mrs. Gorham supported himn, trustinig tha his fascination would touch the heart o: some moneyedi belle. ,Miss Caldweli was the present hope Shte was her own mistress, an orphanet heiress, and very handsome. 'That she wai proud and rather cold in manner, was onij rather an additional charm to Mrs. Gor ham. Lucille, Arabella and Corhinne wer< enthusiastic in her admiration of Cornelli Caldwell's queenly manner. Nobody suspected that F9red, blunt an; straightforward Fred, hid one secret in hii heart, confessed to no living being. An< the secret was a love pure and true to: Cornolia Caldwell-a love that would shui Itself closely away, from any suspicIon o: fortune hunting; that only drooped an; mourned, thinking of the heiress. At i o'clock Fred was at the depot in a carrnage waiting for Aunt Zabina. What a hlttl< old-fashioncd figure shie was, In her quaint black slk bonnet and large-figured shawl But Fred knew her kindly old face at one though he had not seen It since he was tel years old. "You are Aunt Zabinal" lie said, golnj qmickly to meet her. She looked at tihe bright, handsome manly face, and then caught a quick gasp ing breath. "You inust be one of John's boys," shi said. "Why, how like you be to your des pa." "I sam Fred," he answered. "Dear heart! How you've grown? I wane ma here?" "She is waiting for you at iome." The good old country woman had never had the least doubt of a warm welcome at her brother's house, and Fred surely con firmed her expectations. He found the old black leather trunk, the bag, the band box, the "picter" paper bought on the cars, the great bungling umbrella, and put them all into the carriage, without one smile of ridicule. He made his aunt go to the restaurant and refresh herself with hot cof fee and oysters before starting for the long drive home. He listened with respectful interest to all the mishaps of the long, tiresome journey, and fully sympathized with the "Ruination of every mortal stitch that I've got on, dear, In the horrid dust and smoke." And he chattered pleasantly of his child ish recollections of the tiny house and wide farm in the far west, where Aunt Zabina lived. "You see," she told him, "I made up my mind if the ten-acre lot done well this year, I .vould come to New York once be fore I died. I've lotted to come 'fore now, dear, but something or nuther allus hin dered. Dear! Deal You've all growed up, I s'pose, and you was but a lot of ba bies last time poor John brought you to see me." "Cormne is the youngest, and she is eighteen. Wilbur .is the only one older than I am-" - "Yes, I rememberl Well, deary, I'm glad John's wife raised such a flue family. I'm only an old maid, but I do like chil dren and young folks." But a chill fell on the kindly old heart when home was reached at -last, and four fashionably dressed young ladies gave her a strictly courteous greeting. But for the warm clasp of Fred's hand I think she I would have returned to the depot by the same carriage she came in, she felt so wounded and sore. "Got one kiss," she thought, "and Fred kissed me at the train, right afore all the folks." , Fred slipped a silver dollar into the hand of the servant girl who was to wait upon his aunt, promising another if she was very attentive, and himself escorted the old lady to her room. It was not often the young man's indig nation found voice, though it grew hot over many shams and acts of hard selfish ness in the house of his mother, but he said some words on that day that called a blush to the cheeks of even these worldly women. It was not a very busy season, and find ing that Aunt Zabina was likely to have a sorry time it left to the members of the family, Fred asked for a week's holiday, appointing himself the old lady's escort. lie was too proud to care for the fact that the quaint little figure on his arm attracted many an amused glance, but gravely stood by, while a new dress for Dolly, the dairy maid, and "city necktie" for Bob, the plowman, were purchased, gave undivided attention to the more important selection of a new black silk for aunty herself; and pleasantly accepted a blue silk scarf, with large red spots that was presented to him, appreciating the gift, and mentally resolv ing to wear it when he paid a promised visit to the western farm. He drove Aunt Zabina to Central Park, and enjoyed her delight over the then new enterprise of the city fathers. le took her to see all the sights. Once or twice, meet ing some of his gentlemen friends, they had thought the "queer old lady is some rich relation Gorham is very attentive," and had delighted Aunt Zabina by their defer ential attention. Once-Fred, had not counted on that-in a picture gallery, Cornelia Caldwell sauntered in alone. She had heard of Aunt Zabina, through the disgusted comments of Lucille, and knew she had no property but a "miserable farm out west, with a house on it as big as a bird cage," but she greeted Fred with a smile far more cordial than she usually gave her admirers. .A little lump came into Fred's throat; i then he gravely introduced the stately beauty in her rustling silk and heavy velvet to the little countrified, old-fashioned figure on his arm. "My aunt, Miss Gorham, Miss Cald well." They admired the pictures together, and the young lady was jovial and very talka tive. As they came down the steps Miss Caldwell said: "You must let your aunt drive an hour or two with me, Mr. Gorham. Ilam going to do some shopping, so I will not tax your patience by inviting you to join us; but I shall be pleased if Miss Gorham will dine with me, and you will call for her this evening." Then she smiled again, made Aunt Zabina comfortable in her carriage, and drove off, .leaving Fred forty times deeper -In love than ever,' as'she intended that lie should be. "He is the very best, of men," she thought, "and I'll give him one day of rest. Bless the dear old soul, she has just such blue eyes as my poor dear old grand >mother." Then she won Aunt Zabina's confidence, and found that she was worrying about the I purchase of certain household matters that would not go into the black leather trunk. and that she did not like to worry Fred about. She told her of the express con venience, and drove to the places where I the best goods were to be had, keeping guard over the slender purse against all im position, till the last towel was satisfactorily chosen and directed. SThen she drove to her own home and brought her to the room where grand mother was queen, knowing the stately I old lady would make the country woman right welcome. I In the evening that followed Fred'sheart 'was touched and warmed, till scarcely conscious of his own words, he told his Slong cherished secret, and knew that lie I had won love for love. I Aunt, Zabina stayed two week, and then ,left for home, to the Immense relief of the 3 Gorhams, and carrying no regret at leaving any but Fred and Cornella. It was not even suspected In fashionable circles that Cornelia spent four weeks In the height of the summer season listening to the praises of Fred at Aunt Zabi na's tlny farm-house, and even Fred didn't know it tiil he came too, after she -was gone, and had his share of the pleasure of - hearing such loving commendations of one he loved. 3 "lie wore the neck-tie, and made him r self so much at home that Aunt Zabina wept some of the bitterest tears of her life when he left. . "To have you both hero, and then lose you," she sobbed. I'm Sorry. Mattie had a fiery temper, but that wa her worst fault. When she married Marel Hunter, Ipe said : "She'll make his life a warm businesi for him." But Mattie thought differently. "I'll show them what a triumph lov will work. I'll teach them I'm not th< mixen I seem." And so she married hin. The weddine was a very pleasant affair-something tc look back to as long as they lived. Matti looked very sweet in her new white Swiss. Her long, jetty curls trembled and sihn in the brilliant light, her eys sparkled Iik( twin stars, and her soft cheeks wer( mantled in softer blushes -as she leaned trustingly on the strong arm of the stal, wart man who was to be her guard and i guide through life. The honeymoon was rich with pleasurc of new-married life to the humble pair; bul the time soon came when the bride musi leave the old roof-tree for the untried reali ties of a home of her own. This was the first sorrow-the trial of leaving home and mother-but it was fleeting, for in the ex citement of "setting up" housekeeping in the white cottage on 'Squire Blackburn' farm, the little sorrow was drowned. It was very funny, and Marsh laughed and Mattie laughed when they two sal down to the little new table and ate the viands prepared by Mattle's own hands. Everything was new and'strangely sweet. Everything went on nicely, and Mattle wai triumphant. But all things earthly musl change. The weather grow warm and the kitchen hot, and one of the hottest days of the se%son Mattle had the headache, and the supper must be ready at five o'clock. Mattie tried to got it ready, but burned her wrist ; then she burned the bread. Then she looked at the clock, and saw that it had stopped, and looking out at the door she saw Marsh. "Is supper ready?" he asked, and she blurted out something, and then they had their first quarrel. Oh, dear me. the first quarrel. How sorry it made the poor little woman. But Marsh looked sullen, and went off without kissing her. They never talked that quarrel over, simply because they were both too proud to broach the subject. After that quarrels came oftener and easier. They did not mean to quarrel, but some how angry words would come up. After awhile a little boy came to their household, and it seemed for a month or two a good deal like the well-remembered honeymoon; but Mattle's wretched temper would fly to pieces again, and the happi. ness was spoiled. "It's curious we can't get along without so much quarreling,'" said Marsh, one winter day. Mattie felt the tears in her eyes in a moment, and her heart softened towards Marsh, and she was about to con fess her failings and ask forgiveness, when he continued: "It's all your hateful temper, Mattle you know it is." That was enough, and what was mear. to be a reconciliation was simply another quarrel. "Oh, dear me, it is my wretched tempej -I know it Is," sobbed Mattie after Marsli went out, "but he needn't have said so." "If I only wasn't so blind," said Marsli to himself with a sigh. So things went from bad to worse. Little mistakes were imagined into terribk wrongs. The neighbors had their fill of gossl about the matter, and, finally, one day when Marsh was away, Mattie thought thc thing over. "I am a wretched little nuisance," she said mentally. "I don't know why I am so, either, but I couldn't help iti'' she said desparingly, her eyes filling with tears. "I've a great mind to take Neddie and g home, and stay there. My shame couldn't be any greater than it is." She clasped the baby close in her arms and the tears fell fast on his curly head. Her heart seemed bursting within her but she wrapped the child in her shawl and with a quickening step she fled from thei place and hurried across the snow-covered fields to her mother's "What's the matter child?9" asked he mother, as Mattle, pale and shivering appeared at the door. "Don't ask me, mother," sobbed the wretched little woman. "You ain't left home?" "Yes, mother, forever." "Don't say that to me. You shall g< I back this instant," said her mother, think. Ing of the scandal that was sure to follov a such a proceeding by her miserable > daughter. 3 "Oh, don't mother," and Mattie looke4 1 the picture of despair. -"Tell me about it, my child," said the i mother, melted into tenderness by the look. I Then Mattie, t hrough her tears, told liei o mother all, and ended with thiese pmtifu ,words : a "But, oh, mother, I (10 love him, thic t father of my child. I love him, but hi doesn't understand me. If he could bu f understand mel" and she fell sobbing be side her mother's knee. a "Let me advise you, my child," said the - mother, softly stroking her daughter's y glossy hair. "I've passed through It all, I and I'll tell you a seeret. There is almost r certain to be mistakes come up betweci t husband and wife, and often words art i spoken that are regretted a moment after r ward. But my child, such a word can d< a no harm, if repented of and a confessioz i made. If you have said anything to wount -your husband's feelings, no matter what hi may have said to you go tell him you are -sorry, and I know that lie will not onll a forgive you, but will beg you to forgiv s him. The hour that follows will be mjori a delightful than the hour of your wedding r Let me tell you a little instance in my own a lite." r And her mother told of one of those hittl I familly differences that come up between s a many worthy couples. The story ended s a pleasantly that it soothed the tempest 1I - the breast of the heart-sIck daughter. After the story was done, Mattle stil -kneeled, resting her tired head on hel a mother's knee. Her mother stroked hel glossy hair in silence for a quarter of ai v hour, but Mattie's thoughts were busy a Suddenly she arose, took her child into he e arms and wrapped it 'close in her shawl a she prepared to go. o "Where are you going, my child?" aske her mother. e "To make my confession," answere I Mattie, through her tears. "lieaven bless you I" said her mother. When Marsh Hunt came home that night, a pretty scene met his view. The fire was burning brightly on the hearth, and before it stood Mattie, dressed in a neat calico wrapper, with snowy collar and cuffs, and a scarlet bow of ribbon at her throat. Baby sat on his pallet before the fire, crow ing lustily, and beating the floor with a tin rattle. Supper was on the table and the tea was steaming on the hearth. Marsh was cold, but such a scene warmed him. lie went straight to the pallet and commenced a romp with the baby. Mattie went and knelt there, too, determined to make her confession, but she did not know how to commence. It was very easy to think of beforehand, but when the time came she was lost. There was an awkward pause; then both spoke at o:ca: "Mattle, I've been-" "Marsh, I'm sorry-" Their eyes met, and each saw the tender ness in those of the other; all was now told ii an instant. Both made their con fession. Marsh opened his arms and Mattle fell sobbing on his breast, while baby looked on in amazement. From that hour they were the happiest of couples. Uinderella In ItAntan. Once there was a man who had two daughters, one named Catharine and the other Cindreusette, and their mother was not over-fond of Ciudreusette. One day she sent her to mind a cow, and gave her a kilo of cotton to spin, which she did not in the least know how to do. She began to cry, and then the cow said to her: "Tie the distaff on my horns and the spindle on my tail, and put me where there is good grass and water, and I will spin it." When she went home her mother was content with what she had done. The sister asked leave to go with the cow the next day, and her mother gave her also thread to spin. When she was on the road she began to cry; then said the cow : "Put the distaff on my horns and the spfidie on my tail, and I will spin it." The girl led her where other cows bad already refused the gra&, and so, instead of spinning, the cow gathered cabbages for her. The mother being angry, then said to them to kill and eat the cow. Cindicusette went to warn her, when she told her: "'l ake care to eat some of it, and you must then keep the bones and put them in a box; whenever you wish a fine gown, take a bone and it will turn into one." Once her mother was going to high mass with. her sister; they left (indreusette in the kitchen. When they had gone she took a bone and said: "I w.sh this to turn into a fine gown and on it a sun shinlAig, and a slipper which walks by itself." She put them on and went to church, and seated herself on a bench near her mother, who did not know her, but took her for some fine lady. She had a fan, and on it was pictured a sea ; she let it fall, and her mother took it, and she said to her, "You may keep it; I do not wish it any more." She hurried home after mass to undress, so that her mother should not know. The next (lay she went again to mass, now dressed in a gown on which was the sea, and fishes swiumn:ng about in it. She put herself again on the bench ncar her mother. She had a handkerchief with the moon upon it, she let it fall, her mother took it, and she would not take it back. After the high mass she ran away, losing in her hurry a s:ipper. The king's son found it, and had it cried everywhere that she who had lost it should come and claim it, and he would make her his wife. All the young women tried it, but it would not fit. He bade Cia drousette's mother bring her daughters. Cindreusette % ent dressed in her gown on which were the fishes, and wearing the other slipper, and the Prince took her for his wife. Water Shoes. Mr. Bouie, of Wayne county, has invent ed a pair of shoes with which he walks upon the water. ils invention consists of two zinc shoes, five feet long and five Inches deep. They are air-tight and pointed at each end. In the centre is a space large enough to hold a man's foot. Underneath the shoes are two sets .of five blades, very much resembling a Venctian window -blind hung on end, but firmly fastened in posi tion. As the walker pushes his foot for ward the blades or slats open, and the e ater rushes through without opp)osition and the shoes move easily along; but pushing backward closes the slats and makes a solid sheet, like a closed blind. In this way he gets his purchase on the water. In maotlon the walker resembles a man on snow-shioes or skates mo: e than a pedesirlan, for he cannot lift his feet, but glides along easily and gracefully. Mr. Boulc weighs about 125 pounds and lhe sank the shoes only about three and a half inches in the water. During a recent exhibition lhe walked in a pair of these shoes appa:ently without ef fort ; "squatted" as hiuntsmen are frequent ly obliged to do; fell overboard and climbed into his shores again, and resumed his rambles up and down the middle of the river and along the shoes, iIe does not claim that the shoes would be serviceable in rougn weather or in short chopping seas, but on comparatively smooth water lie says he can walk along almost as rapidly an(i certainly as comfortably as lhe could on land. ________ I Items of interest. Weigh and measure all purchases when they are brought home. - Raisins should not be bought in large quantities, as they are injured by a time. I A few dIrops of ammonia in water will i thoroughly cleanse the dirtiest brush or comb. r Candleo, Improve by being kept three or m i u montus, and are better, therefore, if 3 bought by th'o jox. . To tsi nutnrega prick them with a pin; i if they r.re goodi, the oil will at once spread round the puneture. e Rloaches are fond of flour paste, and if ten cents' worth of phosphorhns is stirred Sinto it with a stick, they will die while i eating it. Molasses should be kept in a cellar. Never keep pickles in glazed ware, as the vinegar forms a poisonous compound with the glazing. a Cheese soft between the fingers Is richest .and best, and should be kept in a box in a r cool dry place. Wipe off the mould wIth ,a dry cloth. Common house flies may be destroyed 1l by feeding them with ground black pepper and sugar, as much as will lie on a dime, d moistened with two teaspoonfuls of cream or rich milk. They eat it, seek the atr, and die out of doors. short Notes on Aw. At the freezing point, water Is 770 times heavier than air; but heat expands air, making it lighter, so that at a temperature of sixty deg. It is 8-15 times lighter than water. At a medium temperature of sixty deg., with a barometric pressure of thirty, every 100 cubic inches of air weigh about thirty-one grains, and every thirteen cubic feet of it weigh a pound. The air i:r a room twenty feet square and ten high welihs 806 pounds of avoirdupois, and a thirty-one gallon barrel full weighs just about five ounces. From the freezing point (thirty-two dog.) air expand 1-498 of its bulk for every degree of added heat shown by the thermometer. At the surface of the earth the pressure of all the air above Is equal to 14 8-5 pounds upon every square Inch, or .2,105 pounds upon every square foot (over a ton 1) Higher up there is less pressure of Its own weight, and it becomes expanded or rarefied, so that at the height of about 2 8-4 miles (2.7) it is only half as dense as at the earth's surface, and it takes twenty-seven cubic feet to weigh one pound. At the height of 5 2-5 miles it has only one-fourth of its density at the earth's surface, and fifty-two cubic feet weigh only a pound. The pressure of the air upon water at the earth's surface is so great that it only boils when heated up to 212 deg. But as the pressure higher up :a less, water boils at one deg. less of heat for about every 550 feet we ascend. At half a ile higha, water boils at 207 deg.; two miles high at 193 dog. ; three miles high at 188 dog , and at this temperature the boil ing water is hardly hot enough to cook potatoes. The air grows less and less dense until at about forty-five miles high there ceases to be any air at all, it I@ supposed only vacant space. An important property of air Is that as it becomes warmer, it ab sorbs water or vapor of water, and hides it within itself so as to speak; as it cools it gives out this water again. 'rho air In a rooi twenty feet square and ten feet high, when heated from thirty-two dog. to only the temperate heat of seventy deg., secrete within itself 8 1-4 plats of water. A cur rent of warm air whea co,led by any means, as by meeting a current of cold air, gives oul its secreted moisture; the little water atoms given out become visible in the form of clouds, and when there is much water thus let loose the little drops keep uniting so heavy as to fall down as rain. So the warm air gathers up from the earth's surface myriada of watery particles, car ries them heavenward hidden unseen In its vast storehouse, until it chances to be cooled, and then it drops the particles back in ra!n-or snow, if cold enough to freeze the drops. Interesting Facts. The tomb of Edward I., who died. In 1301, was opened Jan. 2, 1770, atter 469 years had elapsed. His body was almost perfect. Canute, the Dane, who crossed over to England in 1017, was found in 1879, by the workmen who repaired Winchester cathedral, where his body had reposed nearly 750 years, perfectly fresh. In 1569, three Romia soldiers, fully equipped *Ith warlike implements,were dug out of peat lu Ireland, where they had probably lain 1500 years. Their bodies were perfectly fresh and plump. In the reign of James II. of England, after the fall of the church at Astley, in Warwickshire, there was taken up the corpse of Thomas Gray, Marquis of Dorset,who was buried the 10th of October, 1530, in the twenty-second year of Henry VII.; and although it had lain there seventy-eight year., the eyes, hair flesh, nails and joints remained as though it had been but newly burled. Robert Braybrook, who was consecrated B1sqop of London in 1881, and who died in 1494, and was buried in St. Paul's was taken out of his tomb after the great fire in 1606, during the repair. of the cathedral and,althiough lie had lain there no less than 262 years, the body was found to be firm as to skin, hair, joints and nails. The Convent do St. Domingo was lately demolished in search of treasure supposed to be concealed there, and the body of Prince Rodrignez taken out who had been buried alive in 1565, exactly as when placed 250 years before. Mis daughter, two and a half years of age, was lying at her ither's feet and as perfectly preserved as himself. The Veteran Main Carier. Every day, as regular as the hour comes around, any person who may take the trou ble can see John W. Leedy, the veteran mail carrier of the world, arrive in Hiarri sonburg, Virginia, on his return from Port lei,ublic, with the mail. To look at him one would not suppose that he was capable of any great endsrance, but when you look up his "re-cord'' you will find that he has gone through with what would kill most men. Hie has been carryingc the United States mail for the past twenty-five years, and during that time he has ridden the enormous aggregate of 828,588 miles, or an average of about forty miles a day for six (lays of each week of the whole period. If ho had gone In a straight line he would have ridden around the world about thirteen times. He was born in Charlestown, Jef ferson county, (now West Virginia), and was raised there, and came to Rockiugham during the John Birown raid. prior to the war, and has been there ever since. He Is only 47 years of ago, and bids fair to put in soother twenty-five years of service. -if he had been paid for every mile.he has ridden the price usually charged for passengers on the railroad, four cents per mile, he would have made the handsome sum, in round numbers, of $18,000. Congress should give him a pension and put him on the re tired list. Ages of Betsh Soverelgns. Queen Victoria has attained her sixty first year, an age exceeded .by eleven only of the sovereigns of England, dating from the Norman Conquest--namely, Henry I., who lived to the age of 67; Henry III., who lived to be 65; Edward I., who lived to be 67; Edward Il., who attained 65 ytars; Queen Elizabeth who reached 69 years ; James HI., who lived 68 year.; George I., 67 year.; George H., 77 year. ; George IV., 08 years, and William IV4, lived to be 72 year.. On the 20th of June she had reigned over Engla'ng 48 years, a period which has not been exceeded but by four English sovereigs tis:-Henry Hf., who reigned 56 years; dward III.; who reigned 80 yters; Queen Elisabeth, who reigned 45 years, land George III., who remnued for the lone period of G0 yam NEWS IN BRIEF. -The new federal Blue Book of this Country contains the names of 97,500 federal officeholders. -The present population of Ireland is just about 5,00,000. There are more Irish in America than in Ireland. -American residents in London pro pose erecting a protestant Episcopal Church In that City at a cost of $75,000. -A cubic foot of water weighs 1,000 ounces; a cubic foot of milk weighs 847 Dunces; and a toot of cream 780 ounces. -A man in Blossburg, Pa., had the Jlelirium tremens, which the doctors iaid was produced by inveterate smo king. -Hans Makhrt has completed his pictureof( "Dianaat the hunt," and has iold it to a firm of picture dealers for }23,800. -This year's yield of tea in India is satimated at 70,000,000 pounds, ne-irly louble that of 1878. 'TeVn years ago it was under 14,000,000. -The Empress Eugenie, at the end >f this month, will visit the Queen at Dsborne, and then go and spend the 4utumn in Switzerland. -The actual diocese of London eon :alns 2,500,000 people. The parochial 3lergy In the east end have an average )f 4,000 souls to minister to. -Natural caverns of large size, one it least being 600 feet long, have been liscovered at West Hlarptree, near Wells, Somersetshire, England. -Colonel Tuomas A. Soott is yaeht ng about the New England and Cana Ban shores, and will shortly go to the White Mountains. He is much better In health. -The Soldiers' Daughters' Home In @nglaud has, in the twenty-five years )f its existence, educatel 800 soldiers' laughters and placed 350 In schools as eachers or in families. -The total imports of all kinds of )offee for the nine months ending last Karch 31 foot up $48,723,047, in money ralue, against $35,742,038 for the cor ,esponding months of 1878-9. -The value of the whole export of wheat from the United States for the ;en months ending April30, aggregatea $157,382,000, against $108,918,000 for ;he same period of last year, showing in increase of $48,464,000. -The total number of paupers in London, exclusive of lunatics in asy uins and 886 vagrants, on the last day Af the second week of June was 85,049, )f whom 46,793 were in workhouses tad 38,256 receiving outdoor relief. -The Mormons are still pegging away at their new temple. It Is now twenty years since the building was Dommenced, $4,000,000 has been ex pended, it is about one-fourth comple ted, and it is said $28,000,000 will be required to finish it. -Two hundred and twenty five acres were devoted to the cuttivation of strawberries In South Carolina this this year, yielding 4000 quarts per acre. sad aggregating 900.000 q tarts which at 12 cents per quart wouid give an In some of a trifle over $108,000. -The acreage under cotton at the South is 10 per cent larger than last year, or 13,886,947 acres in 1880 against 12,679,962 in 1879, and the yield per Rcre is expected to average 200 pounds instead of 182 pounds as last year, and 179 pounds the year before. -The population of Pennsylvania, according to the new census, is about 1,226,000, an increase of twenty per aentum in ten years. There Is but one mnunty, Venango, which does not show an increase of population, but there are t dozen or more in which the increase ia insigniflcant. -In 1869 London had thirteen gas 30mpanies, employing an aggregate 3apital of ?7,828$,844. Now there are taut four companies, but their capital is $12,681.818, The gas sold per ton of seal car bonized was in 1870 8,438 cubic reet, but is now 9,431. Moreover, imn proved methods have also largely re Liuced the loss of gas. -It is stated in a French Journal that the average yearly expense of maintenance of roadls in France is about 31,000,000 francs for 37,000 kilo metres of national roads, 20,000,000 francs for 41,000 kilometres ci depart mental roads, and 75,000,000 francs for 260,000 kilometres of parochial roalJs, without counting bridges or large rec tifications. -The erown of William Penn's hat, which is to adorn nise thirty-six foot itatue surmounting the lofty tower of the new Philadelphia pu blic buildings, will be just five hundred and thirty Ave feet from the pavement. The high sat towers which have yet been eon strueted are those of the Colonge .ca thedral, which have at present a height of five hundred and twenty-four feet eleven inches. -Returns collected under the capita tion tax of 1877 shoew that there were not then in England more than thirty towns containing above 2,000 Inhabi tants. London had about356,000; York. 11,000; Bristol, 9,5000 ; Plymouth and Coventry, 730each ; Nor wich, 6,000 Lincoln, s,oo Lnn, 4,700; Newcastle 4,000; Rull, ~,30. The entire town population did not exceed 170,000, about one-ffeenth of the total popu lation of the kingdom. -There are about 15,000 factories in the Russian emp:re, reducing geeod to the value of 600,000,0, roubles ($625, 000,000) a year. At;Moscow the whole sale trade is almost in German hands that is, either Russian subjects of Ger man origin, or subjects of the German empire. Among the manufacturers, on the other hand, the Russian element predominates. imported goods, which formerly came chiefly from France, are now almost entirely of German production; year by year the Frenih rmports are diminishing, while the German imports are increasing. -An English blue book lately issued shows that the higheat duties levied on Bitish goods in British goods in Bit ish colonies are levied in Canada,-20 to 30 per cent. ad valorem being frequent. Victoria (Australia) and Now Zealand in many cases levy duties of 1.5 to 20 per cent., and in the Austtalian colo' nies (with thle exception of Now South Wales and Queensland), the Cape of Good Hope,194ewfounoland,and Jamai ca, the rates are mostly from 10 to 15 per cent. ad valorem, in ew S3outh Wales few duties are levied, and in the other colonies the duty seilom 0ced 5 per oent, "Next time we will come together,' Lred whispered to her, which consoled hei % little. "But, alast the next time Fred came wa o superintend the funeral of the gentle ok lady, and though Cornelia came too, hit iappy wife, there was no welcome in the blue eyes and pale lips closed forever. Bu he will the old lady left gave all he worldly possessions to her "dear nephew Prederck Gorham," the forty-acre farm %nd the tiny farm-house. It was appar .ntly no very great legacy, and Corinne 3miled at the many old-fashioned treasures she found hoarded away, though she touched all with the tender reverence deatt leaves. Ten years ago Aunt Zabina was laid t rest in her narrow coffin, and there is busy, flourishing city around the site of th( Did farm. Mr. Frederick Gorham lives on Fiftb &venue, and handles immense sums o money, the rents af stately buildings i: the western city. "Made his money, sir, by western spec ulations," you will be told if you are In quiring as to his source of income. "A fortunate purchaser of ground before the city was thought of."' But 1, who know, tell you that the onl; speculation he made was in the kindnew of his heart, extending loving at tentioni to his father's sister, and that the only western land he owned was Aunt Zabinall farm. Pulpit signals. The Rev. Mr. Sanford of Sheboygan Invented a code of handkerchiefs. On wave of the handkerchief meant that h( wanted water. Holding one end of th handkerchief in his teeth and the other in his right hand meant "shake a boy on th right side of the church: and waving th handkerchief three times around his head was an order to the sexton to poke the fire The system was ingenious, but it did no work for the sexton constantly misunder stood the signals, and the congregation as sumed that the minister was engaged in - flirtation with the soprano of the choir and that the signals were made for her benefit. The result was a scandal and an ecclesiastical trial, the remembrance o which is doubtless still fresh in the reader'i memory. Then there was the Methodist minister ol Osbkosh, who agreed with his sexton that whenever lie exclaimed, "Oh, my, breth rea &" a glass of wat r shou'd be brought tc IiIm. This was for a time quite successful but one day theminister exchanged pulpili with a Bal.tist friend without warning t. sexton that the Baptist knew nothing of the signal code. It so happened that the Baptist preacher began seventy-three sen tOnces by actual count with the exclama. Lion, "oh, my brethren I" and every time the sexton brought him a glass of water. )f course, this attracted attention, and ex. cited the minister's indignation, who ro garded it -as a sarcasm on his denomina tional fondness for water. Still, it it dbubtful if he was e o isable for Iro ving the seventy-third glass with its contents a the head of the sexton, and certainly hi conduct in kicking the latter down the pu. pit stairs admits of no justification. The sexton, of course, felt himself outraged, and ever afterwards refused to answer an, signal that was made to him from the pul pit. The Rev. Mr. Carn, a popular Presby. terian minister, invented a system of sig naling his sexton which had very marked merits. He caused a wire to be run fron the pulpit to the sexton's pew, where i coantcted with a pair of leather-coated Iron clamps so constructed that when th wire was pulled the clamps would gentl: pinch the sextone's leg. The wire ran UL derneath the flooring.of the meeting house and the clamps were concealed under th exton's seat, so that no one except ti mnister and the sexton was aware of ths existence of the sacred telegraph. It wa found to work beautifully. When the mmn ster wanted water, lie pulled the win once. Two pulls, meant that he wanter o speah to the sexton, and three puhll meant "turn up the gas." The congrega Lion *wondered how it happened that Lii service went so smoothly, aind that the sex ton always did the right thing at the righ time, but they were destined to make painful discovery of the true stateof affairs On the last B3unday in June of this yea the sexton brought with him to the morninj service his middle-aged maiden aunt, wh was paying him, a brief visit, and whos heir he hoped to be. By some unexplainei ccident lie forgot all about the signal wire ad showed the aunt Into thme scat which Ii ordimarily occupied, and was obliged V take another seat on the opposite side of th aisle. Directly behind the aunt sat Deaco Brown, one of the pillars of the congregs ion-an aged man of the miost unblemishe character. The minister had begun his sermon, ar. had just finished the exordium, when h felt thirsty and signaled for a glass of watei To his surprise, there wr.s no answer mad to the signal. . Probably the maiden aut .was more surprised than was the ministes for as soon as she felt the soft pressure c the clamps, she started in great alarm, and turning her head, gave time innecent Deaco a look of indignant virtue. The latter ox trayed no sign of guilt, but continued t gaze steadily at time pulpit with a peacert and happy expression of face. Presenti te minister, thinking that the sexton mum have failed to understand the signal, pulle the wire again. Thie maiden aunt, with h: cheeks glowing with rage, turne,l once mcr to the placid and unsuspecting Deacon an whispered fiercely to him that "he had bet ter behave himself o1- she'd let him know. The good man, thinking that a poor lune tic was In front of him, paid no attentio to her remark, and In a few moments we once more wrapped in thme sermon. By thi time the minister, becoming extremei~ thirsty, gave the signal to the sexton t come to the pulpit. What was his horre to see, instead of the sexton, an lnf unito maiden aunt rise to her feet and fail no Deacon Brown, with her umbrella .and ai evident purpose of exterminating that ih offensive man. Of course, the sexton rushed to the re-i cue and dragged lis aunt away. Thong the mystery of the clamps was subsequent ly explained to her, the explanation oni turned her indignation fromi the Deacc to the minister, who, she said, ought to L ashamed of himself, and deserved to b tarred and feathered. Tme upshot of t1 affair was that the sacred telegraph was ri moved, and, the minister now preach. -:ithout water, and is completely cut o from his sexton during service.