Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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m.ll lf - - T T 1RI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. 0., NOVEMBER 13, 1880. VOL. IV 'VOICES OF THE BELLS. Ohime, chime. chime I Ohime out fiom your old gray towers, ye bell@, The hymn of t1je Sabbath morn, Solemnly sweet your musio swells, Sweetly solemn the tale it tell's, Of a Sabbath day now born. Calling from far and from near to prayer, Trembling ye fail on the soft, still air. Olang, clang, clang I Olang out with your loudest tongue, the tale Of the fire fiends march of death Making the stoutest heart to quail, Bidding the ruddy cheek turn pale, And it feels the fiery breath, Of the monet -r that hurls in its wrath, Destruction and death on our path. Peal, peal, peal I Peal out, ye bell, and merrily greet The birth of.the bridal morn. Blossom, ye flowers, in fi agranoe sweet, Making a path for fair young feet, With never a lurking thorn. Happiness, hope, and harmony dwell; In your glad cadence, oh marriage bell. Toll, toll, toll I Toll in your oli gray tower oh bell, Above where the weary sleep I Toll fs r the passing soul a knell, That. sounding ab .e the dash and swell Of the river dark and deep, Mai warn from the rooks and shoals of sin The souls that pre yet ungathered in. Thus, with a tongue of varying tone, That ever in shadow swings ; Echoing back the ead heart's moan, Denying the peal of Joy to nisne, - A lesson your ministry brings Of sympathy share I alile with all, Bear they bridal wreath of funeral pall. Love and Hope. "A queen of hearts." Such was the ilame the admirers of Estelle Glyndon had given to her, and, petted and praised for. her grace and beauty as she had always been, it was hardly to be wondered at that the girl had come to the age of eighteen with a conviction that nft for he were the trials of life. As she rtands now, beneath the shade of the old oak whieh guards her favorite sent, the most casual observer could not help but pronounce her rarely beautifwl. But the lovely mouth is marred by a haughty ex pression, as with averted head she listens coldly to the young man by her side. It is Douglass Macdonald, and In earnest. tones he is speaking thus: "Oh, Estelle, *an it be that I have de ceived myself in thinking that you cared for me? And all this summer, in wich 1 have been so foolishly happy, have you only been playing with me It cannot be true; you cannot be so heartless I I have been told that Foster Severna is the favored suitor who has superseded im; but I said that until you conifirmied it with your own lips I would not believe it. Oh, my dar ling, whom I love more than'ife, no not be so coldl Look up, Estelle, and tell me It is false['' Estelle hesitated. Only the previous day another had laid his heart at her feet, and with it the richest fortune in all the country round. Bhe had not given her answer; but In her young heart pride was very strong, and she felt that to be mistress of The Elms would be an enviable position. Douglass eagerly watching her expressive features, conjectured her thoughtr. "I ee" ho cxclaime~d; "it was true . the report 1 heard. You intend to marry Foster Bevrne-dissipated man of the world though he be-imply because he is rich in this world's goods! I came to day to ask you a qudstion upon which a great deal de ponds. Two openings are before me-one to settle in an honerablo position in my na tive town; the other to go abroad, far away to the dIstant land of China. Yon do not love me-my choice Is made. This will be my laut farewell. To-morrow will see me on my way to a foreign shore." He grasped her hand, wrung it; then, without waiting for answering words, turn ed and loft her. She watched his tall form till it passed out of sIght. Then sudden - ly, with a lightnIng flash, the knowledge of what she had done came to her, and she re alized thatmrejecting Douglass Macdonald's love she had wroecked beyond retrieval the happiness o.f her life. . That evening we see her in the midst of a fashionable throng. As lie looks down at the woman on his arm, Foster Severne's heart leaps triumphantly as he thinks how proud he will be when he can call her his own. As if by accident, ho leads her to the conservatory, whefe, amid the splash: of fouutains and the fragrance of flowers, he - can speak undisturbedly. There once more .he offers her his hand and heart -ahi that is left of it-and, never doubting what it will be, awaits his answer. Not a moment does Estelle waver. Her reply is uncompromising: "Mr. So. verne, I cannot become your wife. An angry flush springs to the young man's face. "Miss Glyndoni you cannot mean what you say! Think a little longer! k ou sure ly do not mean to rofuse such a positiqn as I can give you?" If E~atelle has been fearful that she will cause him pain, ali such ialoa is swept away by his words, and she cannot help compar ing him to the lover who in her false pride she rejected.' - When ahe reached home, Estelle istiled upon to beer another trial. Truly the day has beeki a hard one for the girl upon whom hikherto the winds have not been suffered to blow to royghly. "So you rsave refused Foster Soverne, when you know it was the dearest wish of my heart that you should become his wife? 'Theai let me teil you that ia doing so you hav. AnxecA both yone fitha, and yourself to penury. I am a ruined manl For a year past I have seen the crash aproaching, and it is even now at hand. Estellq, there 1 yet time; retract your refusal, become Mr. Severne's wife and all will be saved" Estelle trembled as her father's words, first angry and then imploring, fell upon her ears. "Father, I cannot! It would be a sin were I to marry him, for I love another." With an angry gesture, Mr. Glyndon made a step forward; then, with an excla mation, he raised his hand to his head, stag gored, and fell to the floor. Poor Estelle I Bitter were the days that followed On the vary eve of his failure her father was stricken with paralysls, and before long the girl found herself homeless and almost penniless. After the first shock had passed, then the noble nature that had slumbered quiescent so long in Estelle Glyndon's soul sprang to the surface. Steadily refusing all offers of assistance, she set herself unftinchingly amid the ranks of the world's workers. It was easier to obtain employment in the neighboring city than in their own small town, and to the city Estelle went. After thee years had glided by, Estelle was called to her dying parent; and as she knelt by the bed where be lay calm and still, she felt that she was, indeed, alone. Better to be as she was, poor and hard worked, than the unloved wife of Foster Severne. It was eveninr, a few months later. The streets were wet with the fast-failing rain. Clasping a large parcel in her arms, a girl ish figure essays to cross a crowded thor oughfare. A carriage swiftly passes. There is a cry in a woman's voice. Then, amid a, babel of voices, "How sadl" "Who is sie?" 'How did it happen?" a slight form is borne upon men's arms into the nearest house. There is no clue by which to tell who the unconscious girl is. "It does not matter who or what she is," says the kind minister into whose house the stranger has been carried. "We will eare for her." And-so,. instead of being sent to the hospital, the sufferer remained at Doc tor Stewart's home. Another week went by, and one morn ing. with a beaming face, old Doctor Stew art cane into the room where his; wife and Estelle were sitting. "What do you think, wife?-our boy Is coming home! le will be here this week. Isn't that news. Tears of joy sprang to the old lady's eyes. "My dear boy! how glad I shall be to see himi" - When her husband had left the room. Mrs Stewart explained to Estelle that it was her dead brother's son, who was- as dearly loved by her husband end herself as though lie had been their own, who was thus eagerly expected. "It was a sad blow to us when he went no far away," she concluded, "and what made it sadder still was that the noble lad carried with him a heart full of pain. Some fashionable beauty had bewitched him, and then had deliberately crushed out his hap piuess. But I hope and trust he ivill return cured of his heart wound. Estelle wined'd as she listened. The days passed until the one came in which the expected guest was to arrive. Clad in a simple dress of white, Estelle was reclining upon the library sofa when the carriage wheels sounded upon the gravel. She heard the eager tones of \'elcomhe; and then the voices approached the room in which she was. The door opened, and there, older and graver than she remember. ed him, but still the samie, stood Douglass Macdonald! "~Estelle!" lie cried, "my darlingi I came to seek you, and I have found you al ready! Oh, tell mec that I am welcome that you are glad to see inc. .1 only lately heard of your refusing Mr. Severne and of your misfortunes. Then in my heart a faint hope spran, into existence, and I de termined to return and seek you and try once more my fate. Can it indeed be that, my hope is not to prove In vain?" Estelle lifted her eyes to his, and mn their luminous depth Douglass read his answer. Later, everything was explained to Doug lass; how it was that lhe had so unexpected ly found Esteloe in his uncle's home, an~d all that and occurred since they had parted. "My dear friend, you little thought wh:' was the fashionable, heartless girl who refused your boy's true heart," said Estelle, softly, to old Mrs. Stewart, as the happy group of four were drawn together about the lamp that evening; "but you will for give her, I sin sure, when she promises that henceforth 'that boy's' happIness shall be her foremost care, and that she will try to the utmost of her power to rcpay hiim for the pain which, through her foolish, wick ed pride, she once caused him to suffer." A Soldier's Proposal. "A young oficer was dancing in a set of "Lancers" in a crowded diawing-room with an extreme pretty ymIri, to whom lie made himself most agreeable. After the dance was over lie took her to a chair, and, seating himself beside her, began to mounn his ccllbacy. "It is exceedingly easy to remedy that." said she. "I don't think so at all, In fact, I do not know a girl who would marry me." ' she laughed and rephedm "Just go and ask some one hero to-night, and I venture to say you wuil be accepted by the first." "Am I I am not so cure of that. But will-you--tako met?" "W ith pleasure."' And a few months later they were mar ried, I'roserving Autumn Leaves. 'Leaves hve their timo to fail' is as cer tain as any of nature's marvels, and the; do it much more gracefully in the incllow ing sunshine, ripening day by day, everi day showing new tints and beautles, untl they fall, their mission accomplished. Ti Preserve their coloring, they should b< gathered from the trees before frosts (get ting all the shades and tints possible, o course), singly, and in sprays suitable fo: pressing, and at once plaeed between the leaves (not too near together) of books an< newspapers, and several 2oundo' weigh laid upon 4hem. Tney should be kept while .pressing, in a cool place, and a ften as every other day (every day I better during the first week) changed int new books. This Is important, becaus the paper absorbs the dampness from th( leaves, and they soon become discolored il allowed to remain. They should be kepi In press until thoroughly dry-between tw< and three weeks; . otherwise they shrivel. They are then ready for a coat of oil oj varnish. I find a mixture of three ouncei of spirits of turpentine, two ounces of boll ed linseed oil, and half an ounce of whit4 varnish preferaule to either alone. Got i perfectly smoolh board,large enough to ay a spray upon, with no reaching of the leaves beyond the outer edges, or in an un lucky moment comes the wall, 'Row could I be so careless as to break off the very loveliest leaf 1' I have done it more thar once, and have thereby learned that autumn leaves are brittle things and require tender handling. Take a piece of soft cloth tc apply the dressing. A bt.Jh does not dc ih so evenly, and there must be no streaks left, They are a blemish when dry. After the application, the leaves must be laid carefully on boards or papers (not overlapping each other) until dry, and thein disposed of as taste suggests, avoiding as much as possible a stiff, unnatural arrange ment. They charm nie most in spray* and groups on curtains and walls with or without ferns; but they can be arranged very artistically on the panels of doors, us. ing starch for holdint them in place. I have seen them used with evergreens in winter decorations with great effect. The stem can be broken off, and a fine wire attacned in its place, which makes them a little morc yielding to handle. There is beauty for some in a wreath, so called, of autumn leaves; but I have always failed to see it, wore especially if under glass. They have such ahelpless,iinprisoned look-tlh,: Leauty all flattened out them. Not long since I read the maleuictious of an individual on a newspaper. He had read in it: 'To pre serve autumn leaves,put a little white wax on the surface and puss a warn iron over thmen. -He says he sat up till alter midnight ruining a bushel of the loveliest leaves lit eversaw.'it left themthecolor of an old felt hat.' I have had some experience in the ironing process, and can truthfully say it spoils bota leaves and teniper. The leaves. of sumach and the Virginhi creeper or five Ilungered ivy will retaiu their beauty for a thne if pressed, and car be used for advantage with other leaves; but atter drying they have not much sub. stance, and soon 'the graec o: ih j )asinou of. them perisheth,' as do so many other beautitui things." The loeor. In person, the Moor is tall and straight, of a commanding figure and possessing great muscularity of form, with dark eyes, white teeth, beard like jet and handsome features, full of grave expression. His general cast of countenance is Roman: and his lofty dignity of manner is such, that when you see him enveloped in the folds of his snow-wh ite hayk, which falls grace. fully over his shoulder, you might almost imagine a senator of ancient Rome stood before you. How different in other re spects are the-two characters If the char acter of the Moor be examined, it wvill be found to consist of a compound of every. thing that is worthless and conte~zptsible, and the fewv good qualities he possesses are quite lost in the dark shade thrown around them. Utterly destitute of faith, his vows and promises are made at the same time with such a resemblance ot sincerity as rarely to fail of deceiving his victim; truth is an utter stranger to his lips, and false. hood so familiar with him, that dependence can rarely be placed on anythmng that lie says. In his disposition lhe is cruel, me-. lessioverbearing and tyrannical, and'bene 'volence and humanity are strangers to his breast. Proud, arrogant and haughty as his gener'al demeanor is, particulary to lit inrernors, lie is fawning and cringing to those above him, and 1he veriest slave imaginiable when in contact with thmose~ whose powver lie has reason to be afraid of. Suspicious, perhaps as muich from the g'en eral unceitaity of life and property in' Morocco, as from his own natural disposi tioin, these is no tie of faith or Iriendship: which is not 'capable of being dissolved wheun anything is likely to be obtained ; tc accomph~lsh which lie will descend to thn lowest Ilattery, anid the most servile acts 01 cunning wheedling. Liberality and gener osity are unknown to him ; or if lhe ds hilays these qualities, It Is dlone from a cer, taluty that lhe shalt be well repaid for the exercise of them. Night at an Alpine Hospice, The Hospice of thei Simplon.foundled by Napoleon I, anid kept by the Brethren of St. Augnatine, is thus described by a cor respondient. "We walked up the higli stone steps to the front cut race, Every. thming silent. A little way inside Limo doo: was a large b'ell with chain attachedl. On my giving this a pull, which made the long passuge-way esho again, a rustling of robei was heard, and a tall, pleasant-faced muonk! appeared and made us welcofue in purt French. Hie then directed us to a room up one flight, marked. "Salon," which con tained a table, lounge, chairs, and an up. right piano, with music lying upon it. At soon as our bundles and bags were brought up, we were invited to our chamnbers or the same floor. They were good-slzed rooms, all atone, above and beneath, will deep set doors and windows, and cozy little white-canopied beds, each with its mound of elder-do*'n quilt. On entering one of the rooms, the ladies started bac1k at, the sight of a huge St,. ilernard dog, apparent ly stretched at fall length on the floor be fore the bed. It, proved to be a skin mount. ed on a rug, with the head preserved en, tire and natural as in life. Jin about bail an hour we were called to dirie in the re. fectory, a long,,low ioonm with prints and paintmgas hung on time walls. A copy o1 Murillo's "Youthful . Virgin" was really beautiful. The dishes, eerved by a siueni dementio were a fnllows. 1, sop;n 2, corned beef In small round cakes; 8, some, unknown kind of roast ment; 4, veal cut lots, dressed with sharp-tasting herbs; 5, boiled rice; 0,cheese. The bread was coarse and strong flavored. . The milk was sweet and nice. Besides our own partythere were at the table the monk who had received- us, and the only other guest, M. Wolfa Swiss botanist of note. After the meal was ended our host arose, replaced hii cewar, and bent reveiently for a moment in atit prayer; then led the way to the sitting room,where a wood tire was soon blazing brightly while we talked and laughed and listened to M. Wolf, who played oi the little upright piano with great purity of touch and feeling. A thunder storm was rolling Zhrough the clouds just outside the windows, and hail rattling against the panes. At nine o'clock we all went to bed and were soon sound asleep. As I awoke the next morn ing, the first object my eye fell upon was a little crucifix with Its.holy burden on the wall just opposite my bed, and I remem bered where I was. During breakfast the young monk told us something of his life on the mountains. le had been eight years at the St. Bernard Hospice, lie said. Had he ever helped to rescue travelers from the snow with dogs? "Ah, out sou. vent." le had been obliged by broken health to leave his post and had come to this place, where the storms and cold weio not so fierce. In the winter, he said, time passed very quickly an#l pleasantly at 8t. Bernard. Rising at five, the monks, some twenty or thirty in number,would assemb.o to hear mass; then catne prayers, meals, meditation, study of the sciences, slight intervals of recreation, with wall : along the sheltered side of *the. Pass; one duty after another in quick succession,till night came. Ilia eye was very bright and his smile wonderfully sWeet, as he told of his employments and his love for his chosen path. A creaking of wheels and a jingling of bells told us that our carriage was ready so we found our way to the chapel, where the box is placed for whatever sums travel lers nay choose to bestow, all entertainment for the night being conisidered a matter of charity, and bade good-bye to our kind young host. He accompanied us as far as the door, and then, wit-a a pleasant bow and smile, hurried away to his own work. John RuIier's RtStake. Bulger is one of those young men who are forever trylug to say something comi cal at another person's expense, and un fortunately never succeed. The other day Bulger was riding down town in a horse car, when a rustic lojking gentle man entered the car and took a seat di. rect.y opposite tron' where he sat. As there were several persons in the car, Vul ger seemed to think that it would be an excellent opportunity for hiiun to get oil some of his extraordinary wit. 8o, ad dressing himself to the old gent}leman op posite, lie said in a tone loud enough to be heard all over the car: "e-lemi-how was evarything in the lunatic asylum when you came way?" But no one seeme. to appreciate the joke, excepling one old woman, who really didn't see any thing to laugh at,but grinned Just Out of politeness. rho old gentleman, although taken by surprise, quickly recov cred himself, and looking steadi.y at Bul ger a moment, lis face suddenly brighten ed; extending his hand, he said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes: "Wall, I swowl didn't know yer, but I kinder thort I seed them clothes before; it lust rate, don't they? How d'yo like the shirt? Looks all right; wouldn't know but what 'twas yours; needs washii, though. It's too tarnation bad them boots are so small yer can't wear stockings with 'em; but if I do say it myself, that's good leather in them boots, and I shouldn't gin them to yer if they hadii't been so ever lastingly too big for me. The old liat, that looks nateral, too. I got that hat second hand fromi a fellow for twenty cents; just as good as a twcnty-five center; a blind main wouldn't know the difference. My starsi tryia' to get whiskers. aina't ye, or is that dirt on yer lip? Why don't ye wear that yaller'ni green neckerchief I gin yer? Looks a tremendous sight better'n tiiat red thing yDu've got on. What? hal hal Go Whuitikerl that's a good un. i'll be durned if you hiain't got that collar on t'other 81(10 up." (Bulger wears stand-np collars.) "Looks so queer I couldn't help laughing'. Ain't, yer kinder fraid you'll tumble down some time and stick the pints inter yer neck? IHow did yer get a chance to ride in the hoss-car? Know the feller what takes the money. -don't, yerl" "Birn" screamed Bulger, just recovering from lis astonishment, and gettIng a chance for the first time to put in a word. "Sirl" "Tut? tutl" continuedl the gentleman from the country, "you needln't say a word, I know just how it is; I should feel the same wvay myself if any body took mue fromt the poor house and give me some decent clothes. Yer needn't thank me; I don't won't, to hear. But I mnst get off the hoss-car; and if you feel the least mite chilly without undlerclothes dlon't be ashamed to conmc round and ask for them. lint don't forget to conie to my house, andI not, go near the lunatic asylum, for they are mtighity strict, there, and I know they wouldn't let you out again. 'Wall,so long; take care of yourself." So sayingr, lie sprang llahtly from the car and walked away, wvhiile Bulger, with his face perfectly livid with rage, gasped: "It's a 1lot' 1 never saw the old fool be fore in my htfel" Bat as the passengers still continued to laugh, he left the car in disgust, and was last seen, with his hat pulled over his eyes, sneaking down a sidb stisecet. Poor Bulger I VTe way of the transgressor is not plea "Can't nub It out."s "Don't, write there," said a father to lia son, who was writing with a dhiamond on the window. "Why not?" "Because you can't rub it out." Did It ever occur to you, my child, that you are daily writing that which you can't rub out? Y ou made a cruel speech to your mnother the other (lay. It wrote itself on her lovinag heart, and gave her great pain. It Is there now, and it hurts her every time she thinks of it. You cana't rub iI out. You wished a wicked thought one day in the ear of your playmate. It, wrote it self on his ind, and led him to do a wie.A. ed act,. It Is there now: you can't rulb it out. All your thoughts, all your words, all ~your acts are written in the book of , Glod. JDe careful, TVhe record Ms very lasting. - You can't rub it at. Uiving ner Census. N% hen the census taker rapped at the door of a certain cottage on Crawford street, Detroit, the other day and wondered if the woman would set the dog on hin or douse him with dish'vater, a great disappoint ment awaited him. She opened the door softly, snuffed the air to se*if he smelled of lightning-rods, and then threw it open for him to enter. "Madam, I am making a canvass of the city, he began. "Ah I bit down," she replied, and as he began opening his book she continued: "There are five of us in the family, and we paid a $100 down on the place. 3My husband's name is Peter, his age is forty two, and he came from a ncan family. Ills father was always having lawsuits about dogs, and his mother was the great est gossipp in Elmira. Ilavo you got that down?" He grunted assent, and she continued: "Bly name is Alvina Sarah, and I was born in-" "I do not care to know where you was born, madam," he interrupted. "Well, I care 1" she exclaimed; "It makes a great deal of difference whether 1 was born in Africa or Boston, and I want it put down. As I was saying, I was born in Boston in 1888. Put down that I came of a good family." "Madam, you don't understand-you "Don't I understand that I came of a good family? I'd like to know of a Bos ton family which carried their noses higher than the lRogerses I Put down that my father was in the Mlexican war. "You have three children, madam?" "I haven't any such thing, sirn Put down that my mother was killed by an ex plosi0n in a quarry. Her and father were "How many children have you, mad am '' '-Have you got mother down " "No, niadai. You see, I am taking the census of the city." "Well," said she giving him a dangerous look, "I had the ty phoid fever at the age of fifteen, and for weeks and weeks I hung on the edge of the grave. I bore up as well as I was able, and--." "Five in the family-how many chil ren?" le suddenly asked. "Put down that I bore upI" she com manded. "And that one night when the watchera were asleep I crept out of bed and took a di ink of-." "Tuis is foreign to the subject, madam. How old are your children ?" "Haven't you put down that I hung on the edge of the grave ?" "iNo, madam " "Aren't )ou going to?" "No, i.-.adatn. You see, 1 am simply taking the census of Detroit. I desire to UseeitLun "You can't ascertain it here, sirl" she enapped. "If iy sickness. which cost ouver $200, isn't good enough to go in tim book Liten you don't get a line here I" "Let me ask you-." "No use asking for any of our photo graphs, sir I if you get 'em any where and put our pictures in that book we'll make it hot lor youl Good-day, sir-Goud day I" 1ie stood on the step, sighing, and she called through the door: "1y grandfather was also bitten to death by an alligator, but I won't give you any of the particulars! You want to walk I" 1e passed on, sorrowfully wondering if the next woman's mother was blown off a bridge or carried down tihe river on a hay stack. Harra'c Carpet. Afrs. Harris told hubby that she must have a carpet for the front room, and she thought a nifty doullar one would suit. Mir. llarris called In at the auction-room the next day. lie didn't know a velyet from a rag-carpet, but lie bid as if lie had been in the business from childhood. The auctioneer put up a beautiful in grain, worth about five cents a mile, and asked how uch4me heard. Mir. H-arris bid fifty cents a yard. Alr. Beales, who was In another part of t. e store, had~ beenu indulgIng very freely, and he said "Five." Mir. Harris wanted the carpet and he bid sixty. Mir. Bales said, "Five." "Seventy!" shouted Mir. Hairris. "F~ive I" came from Beales' corner. Mir. Harris beccaime angry, and deter minedi to have that carpet it he never laid up a cent ; so lie yelled, "QO dollar 1"' Air. Beales never miovedl an eyelash, but lie said, "Five I" By the time that the twvo had run the carp~et u p to four dol.ars a yard, both were red in the face. Mr. Beales' "Five" caine regularly, anid all other bidders gave up ini despair. Bleales gave the peolhe in his neighborhood to understand that "that' was lis carpet." Air, 11arris winked at his friends with a wink that sairl, "If I don't get that carpet, you can put me dlown as a horse thief." Before the miatinee was over, harris had bid eleven dolhars, aqd Beales-said "Five." The carpet was finally knocked down to Becales ; but when it wats ascertained that lie only had five cents, the auctioneer's trusty assistant shiowed Mir. lBeahes the hole the carpenter had left in the front of the building. M~r. ildirrls finadly got the carpet for nine dollars a 3ard, and when he got it home. having neglected to measure Ltme room, lie sound that it wouldn't fit the first floor of a corn-crib. Mirs. Harris informed HI. confidentially that he was a "darned fool," and that he didn't know enough to go in the house wheni it rained. Sue uses the carpet for a table-cloth, land llarris buys his carpets at a regularly-organIzed store now. The Nuensber of Plants. In the Bible about 100 plants are alluded to; hippocrates nmentioned 28$; Theo. p~hrastus 500 and IPhny 800. From this time there was little addition until the llenaissnce, In the Deginning of the fif teenth comiury G3esner could only ennier ate 800 bufat its close Blauhia described 0,000. TAournefort hn 1094 recognized 10, 156i species ; but Linnaous, in the next een tury working more cautiously, delined only 7,291. In tihe beginning of this century, in 1805 Persoon described 25,000 species, comprising, however, numerous milntite fungi. In 1819 Do Candolle estimated the known species at 80,000. Loudon in 1889 gave 81,7is1 species, ini 1840 Professor Jandley gave 80,887, but in 1858 these had increasegh to 92,920. At4 present the known bpecies are estimated at 196,00, Ho Weatherwise. As everybody is lnterested In the weath or, so caih one should qualify himself or herself to read the sky and to interpret the meaning of the winds, sky and clouds. An Intensely blue and serene sky indi cates heavy rains and severe storms in from twelve to forty-eight houirs. A gray, hazy sky, Indicates continous dry and generally hot weather. A southeast wind indicates the existence of a low barometer, if not a sterni centre, in the northwest. The aspects of* the sky and clouds will tell whether it means mis chief or not. An almost Immediate cessa tion of rain may be expected as soon as the northwest sets in. It matters not what the aspect of the sky is when the west wind sets in, fair weather will ensue after it and continue for from three to four days. The passage of the storm ce.ntre from the Gulf and southeast ward of our locality is a partial exception, only so far that it clears ol more tardily. There are raally but two primary kinds of clouds-namely-flrst, those that float at a grout height above the earth's surfaco; and, 'tecondly, those that float low. Those that float high--say from six to nine miles -are of a fibrous gauzy structure; they are hence called cirrus-thut is, hair or tult clouds. The clouds that form in the lower strata of the atmosphere-say from one to three miles above the earth-are ir regular in structure 'and of a more or less nenular form. They are called the cumulus -that is the heap or pile of clouds. While the cirrus renialus nebular in structure and indistictsy defined against the sky, no rain need be expected. Under the low baio.neter, howevLr, tlicy develop by accretion, become smooth and compact in structure and much enlarged In voluine. They now sink lower and become more sharply deflined against the blue sky. Rain miay now be expected, especially if they unite with the cumulus, formiang the nhu bus or rain cloud. if the cirrus, instead of forming the nimbus, re-ascends, it dissi pates, and no rain may be expected until it lowers again, which generally is in twenty-four hours. "A Bimmed 44( Quaker." Ie was a peaceable looking man, with a quiet-looking horse attached to an unat tractive wagon. lie wore a wide rimmed hat and a shad-be'lhed coat as lie drove easily ftown the Soutli Easton hill journe3 ing from Bucks county to the land of Northanipton, Pa. Ile was observed by a follow of Lhe species "rough," whom much loatling had made impudent, and who lifted us his yawp: "-a-a-y I hat, where are you going with that man." "Veily, I journey beyond the river, friend I" mildly responded the Quaker, "'and thither goe. h my hat also." "llold up i and take a fellow along can't you'l" called out the man of wrath. "Nay, triend I my business and inclina tion forbid it." "1'11 soon fix that ;" and the fool ran forward and jumped on the steps. "Verily, friend I if thee insist upon get ting into my vehicle I will even help thee," and the ian of peace rearhed out a right haind as resistless is an oyster dredge. It caught the youth around the throat worse than a four year old diptheria, jerked Ilim into the wagon and slammed him down among the straw, where lie got tramped upon by a pair of number thirteen cowhides until lie thought he had got caught in a shower of spile drivers. Finally he got a kick that lifted hin clear over the side of the wagon, had his head ran into the bank by the roadside, where lie dwindled down in a heap like a gum shoe discouraged by a street car, and murmured, as lie rubbed his ensangulned nose: "Who'n blazee'd a ever thought the cast iron man'd gone around with steam up an' dIsguised as a blamed old Quaker. She Oiliunged Her Mind. A big, good-natured doctor was desper ately in love with, and had been twice re fused by a fair haired little womian. Bunt in stead of the disappointment curing his love it only made the passion more intense. Af ter the last refusal lie told her that if ever she chiangedi her minad to let hIm know, as his love for her was unchangeable, and lhe wvould be proud to be her husband. Some months later ho was driving home from seeing a patient, when lie saw his lady love rliing in lis direction.- Supposing she would merely bow and pass on, as she hadl often done before,.hie did not, pull up his horse. But thme moment Aliss Dixon came up to hinm she reined in her horse, stoppedi, and~ cailed out: "Won't you stop, Air. lill ?" IHe raised his hat and replied: "I shall be happy to do so," then waited for 1her to speCak. Wie was gafing at the ground and blush ing deeply, but quickly looklug up, she tIlled the Doctor's honest heart, by say ing: "Dr. 111l1, I have beoen closely watching you lately, and seeing nothing but goodness and noble miundedness in your char actor, and believing you will make an excellent husband, 1 am willing to marry you." 4iouldnm't itahue It, The annoyances to which a man without money can be subjected are almost without number, but it is seldom that two acquaint. ances are in the samo box at once. On C. ngress street, Detroit, recently one man said to another ais they met: "Ahi you miserable liar, I'd break your nose for a dollar I" The person thus addressed opened his wallet, but it was empty. ie wanted his nose broken ever so much, but he couldn't raise the cash. Trhen ho remarked : "You gray-headed poltroon, I'd lick you for fity cents I The gray-head felt an all his pockets, but lie found no hialf-dellar. lie was cast down over the condition of his finances, but lie managed to say: "I'h give you a boss licking for' just fivo cents '' The other wont down into all his pockets, but no nickel could be discored. Dlgap polantment sat enthroned on his face as lie replied : "Give me two cents and I'll 011l you in the gutter I" The other couldn't ript~ Jlyon when they offered to lick e f fo'f a cent the money could not b cdd and both went their ways te . 'ow ko the gr'ip of podrtycaiW ttoned. wae; Arrban wooas. The most formidable of allaimal* woods of Africa s iho fanous T Gorilla, called In the language oft Njena. It belongs to the ounr chimpanzee family, but Is larger powerful than any other 4nQW'[ It is almost impossie .to idea, either-of the hideodsnci4 or the amazing muscular power t Its intensely black face iot'0 features greatly exaggeratedi coun enance Is but one expressi age ferocity. Large eyeballs, a long hair, which falls over the ftr when it is angry, a mouth of imoq pacity, revealing a row of torriVsh' and large protruding ears, -make I the most frightful animals in the It is not surprising that the nativet afraid to encounter them even when Sr The skeleton of one, in possession of t Natural History Society of Boston, is sup posed to be five feet and a half hig'Q and with its flesh, ,thick skin and the long shag gy hair with which it is covered, must have been nearly four feet across the shonldraM The natives say it is ferocious, and invarl ably gives battle when it meets a single person. It is said they will wrest a musket from the hands of a man and crush the barrel between'their jaws, and there is nothing, judging from the muscles of the jaws, or the size of their teetb, that renders such a thing impiobable. The common African chinpanzen abounds in all parts of, Western Africa. Those of Southern Guinea are not so large as those higher up the coast. It is the nearest approximation to the human species of any of the monkey family. It is easily domesticated, is mild and sociable in disposition, and gives un mistakable evidence of strong personal at tachiments. Its character and habits are so well known that we do not feel it impor tant to give a more extended account. TI'do a Ict- rasii, It may not be known that trade in cat o'.nine tails, or cat tails, or catkins, or whatsoever they may be rightly called, is of some imuportance and magnitude. Whoever discovered and made known the fact that the proper place for the swamp nurtured catkin wes the parlor and draw ing room has not left his name behind, but certamn it is that in the year 1879, and "mope paiticularly in the year 1880, catkins begun to be Included in the house-furnish ing of ornamental things. At the present time the demand is large and increasing, aud a useless weed has become an article of commerce. The catkins are used with paupas grass, sea oats and native grasses to inake up the contents of vases which - ornament mantels and room corners. Tals has become the rage. as it is called, and many a room Is undergoing the procees of catkin End grass adornement. For tpo re ception of these grasses large and small vases are used, according to location, and dian pipe ornamented by home handiwork are used rur tie same purpose as well as for umbrella stands. The catkins with the. beautiful'pampas grass add a great. deal to to attractiveness of any room, and partio ularly of that onie with complimentary sur soundings. The time was when the beau ties of natural grasses were concealed un der a coating of alum, or some other glis Lening substance. From this tinsel we are gradually turning to a more correct taste, i even in such sinall matter as catkins. One irmn in Providence has laid in a stock of about three thousand catkins. Curious End to a Agorae Race. Recently a cattle dealer and a farner who prided themselves on the superioritf of their respective horseslaid a bejt of, ?0 cach on who would reach a certain inn in Llnlithgow, driving from Edinburgh. Tho money was duly staked with the innkeeper, the day set, and the conditions written out -viz., first at goal, in full harness, to re. ceive ?100. During the interval one of the gentleman began to see he was likely, to lose, aud forned a plan to circumvent ins fiilind,,wiich lie managed in the fol lowing way: On starting lie allowed him self to get rather behind,and on coming up to ilaymarket Station turned quietly in, where a special engine and horse box stood waiting, by means of which, horse,gig and man were soon carried to Linllthgow. 'The other gentleman kept driving on, although Ihe was suprised, en looking round now agamn andi again, to see nothing of his op ponent. But suprise gave way to rage when lie arrived at the inn twenty minutes late, and was told that the money had b'een claimed by his friend; the other now wish ed to make a joke of the whole aflair, -and offered back the ?50; but he who haddniven the road refused any compromise, and de clares that lie will take the case to law. A Trouat VIsher's Yaras. Ilaving fished the lakes and attreams of Now England for thirty years, 1 hsuve bad some Curious incidents occur, ap4 thought the tollowing might loterest your, roaders: W hile fishing on a mountain stream, in swift water, I bad a iapid bite, and thought I had hooked a large fish. On puilipg out I had two trout on one line, one strtg oa the gut, the hook passing throu his mouth and ou t his gill and hooked.4ai into tihe side or tihe other. Fish No. ~ a ten inches long, and, pulling si.y aigainst the stream, scoemed a muchlagm fish. Second: While fishing in what we call dead Water on a strean in Now ifamp shire I saw a lai ge fish go up stream. I waited with fisherman's patience ,for an hour or two, then I crept up to the stream, and threw at a venture under an overhang-, ing~ bough, and at the first tnrow I had the trout fast. I saw that he was a large one, and thought I would play him.,* I then> saw that he was pulling sideways. I short oned my tackle and landed my prie, and then found that Ilhad not hooked hin, but in my threw had cast the hook apd lino around nim, making a slip noose. On my way home, passing a lookamith's shop,L' laid him on tue old gent's aquarea he stretched sixteea inches-not a large Aish, but a large one for that place. Sun Spow .mud Weather., *.-j4 Thoso meteorologists who bel1~te that ' the weather depends upon the-presene or absence of spiots of the sun do not geot mtiot comfort from Mr. Dallas, of the .Bitish . Meteorologicail 01co00 Accordidt 'to Mr. Dallas, alt predictions or- a'as~)l~i ' ~ based-on the setined ooncord b~~* 'a sun spots an Ihie:Wetbor in the.'lt4lu Isles area drthiless. The& concord whaotver, ho says-and ho ' ducs facts, sld dpires whch'qr~ pear to boar oUt the ai*-. the relative mnlbgEr t sts ,