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}-* 4 -1 IRI-XERLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C.9 MARCH 15 1881. 'IN NEVER TOMATE TO M4 ). Mani does'ome paio' 1vo You, Dogiading your body d sQA ?' Sme devil's lure mlstertird Diave you, The siren, tle'did'4,o thie f~owl? Ohl pause for a moment and barken, And take the advice of a friend, Ere life's day in death's nightsball darken-' 'Tis never too late to mend, It may be that sin has enthralled you Through many a lojg miqpent year, That Vonscieniudo hasipleadingly called you Till her voico you no long'8 dan hear; That day after day you are going The road that in ruin will end, lenotted and blinded-not knowing - 'Tis never lo Jati to moliad. No brave man is ho, but a coward, No freeman is ho, but a'slave, Who yields, by his passions o'erpowered, No blow strikes hh4*mahhdod to save. 0one, rouse up your heart, if within it There's one longing your fetters to rend! Mani fight the good fight and you'll win it 'Tis never too late to mend. With your body. yourioul, and-6iur 991iri - Fight constant and instant 'gaint sin; Long and sore though the fightk never fear it, Figlt on to the end and you'll .win. Each ruro you resist makes you stronger, Each struggle somae fetter will rend, Till at last you're a sin-slave do longer 'Tis never too late to mend., How Jessie Couquerod.. "Yes, I am pretty, very pretty. There's no denying that. My glass tells ine so, and I am sure I. have heard it often enough to believe - it by this time, it my male admiirers are to be credited. But ttien I don't alwa'ys behov'e wht they say. These men who make love to me,how they do rave over the 'golden glory'pf my hair, and my 'shell-tin Ci check,' and my 'liq uid brown eyes,'4. Oh, dear I I won der if I ehall ever-love any mai enough to rave over his perfections, either openly tr In secret ? I think I should rather like to . fall 'in love. Eteally in love I mean, be cause of course one has to be just a little ite so, in order to enjoy a flirtation. Peo- 1 ple say that love Ik half p tin, but I shouldn't think that could be so, ir one may judge by the countenances of most lovers one meets. Perhaps if I were to I fall in love, I might find Oint soul they I say I lkck. Col. Anstruther called ic Un dine once, and maybe I really am without much feeling on this subject. Bt, soine way or other, it does seem so funny to see men distressing themselves, and growing I miserable, because I don't happen to mar- t ry them I I ain sure I don't see why they t want mr for a .wife. I dare say I'm an ex- I Ironiely nice girl to talk and walk and drive with, and.I must sayI am aplendid I partner for a waltz; but I can't endure t anything like housekeephig, or sewing or E scolding servants, or-or anything but just having a good time, and plenty of fuss I made over me. I wonder, thougn, really, f if the man is lving whom1 I alm dootincd Uo I marry ?" The last remark bemng uttered aloud, F called forth a response from young lady I number two, sitting in the low window seat, busy arranging some choice flowers. f "Well, indeed, dear, I should hope so, unless you have just returned from Ire- ] land, or else intend to marry a baby." I "From Ireland I what on earth has Ire land to do with it I Oh, I see. I made a i regular "bull.'. But what I mean Is, I whether I am to have Mrs. written before ] imy name on the ton.b stone or spinster, < after it. In other words, whether I ever i shall be married at all," I suppose by this time the reader will I want to know "what's the name, and < where's the home" of these two "fayre I ladiyes." Allow me, then to introduce to you Miss Jessie Conrad andl her young married sister, iAirs. Monbray, at p~resent residmig at Lyndehurst., located in, no - tmtter which county, of on~e of these Jnited States of America. The Conrads have rented Lyindehiurai for many consec utive summers, and truly it is a lovely re-( treat, away from the dust andi heat and noise of the .great city. "If I do get married," the girl resumredl, "it shall be to some mian ichi enough to I buy Lyndehurst for me whieni the time conies for it to be sold. Tihat can't be very long now, by the way. What it strange idea that was of old Mr. Lynde's, that an heir to the propeaty wouild ever 1 turn up, after all these years I lie deserv ed1 to sulfer remorse, the 01(d curmudgeon, after turinmg his onily daughter out, of doors, just because she married a man who. wasn't, quite as rich as lie wished his soii. in-law to be. Let me see; the propert~y wats to be In the hands of trustees, or ex ecutors, or whatever they are calledi, until after the lapse of fifteen years, and then if neither his daughter or any chikt of hers comes to claim it, it is to go to variouis eharities. Judge Angus told mec all about it yesterdhay, I only wish the trustees couldt regard me as a fit subject for charl ty, on whom to bestow Lyndehiurst, for I do love everysp1ot, abouit this plaSce. lhnt I muist stop) wishing for limpossibilities and go and dIress, or 1 won't be prepartcd to conquer the invincible, whom Mrs. Angus1 is going to bring here this Aifternoon. lie has rather a nice nmame, by the way, Harry liazlhon. I weonder if lie hImself -is as nice. Because, If so, I might get slightly cprise, you know." "You can spare yourself the trouble," laughed her sister, "for he certainly can not, buy Lyndehurst for you, having an extremely narrow income. And as you have just announced your intention of imakinig Mr. Jessie Conrad preseiit you with that place,- Mr. Hlazelton bught t'o be safe from your fascinating arts. Tihiere is Mrs. Angus ' now, with two gentlemen. D~o hurry, Jossie dear, or you will not. be ready." - The invindible, as Miss Conrad has callh ed him, at heart, certainly merited no such title. lHe had so fair resisted the fascina tions of the fair sex, uiidoubtedliy, and wats apparently qite indIf erent as tQ the ef lect, he might be able Lo produice on thoem himself, but this -Indifference was mere surf ace calmness, and the resulit of p~ridie and sensi:iveness. .lie was ploor, andi not likely to be able to marry for manny .years to come, ini consequene,so lie kept a strict guard over lis affections. -Very agreeable Jessie forind him, and e very fact that lie had so- far success utly resisted th9 charms 9! dther womien, miade h~r'-a* ' " 'leterminedl that uar~ azelt, '"W tho grat man tet he but not precisely as AMilcdi had planned. Mr.'Upzel n .-came and -went; wJkcd, kirove and;,aInced with her butistill with .the sang pihte,calt Inondtaldit .manner wit ich he (net . other i woimen, Jessie grew thoroighly piqtidd. EXB-cisled'hl'her arts and pretty coquetries, and still failing to win the special admiration, nay even -love, on-whieh she had counted, she found herself bestowing much more thought on this provoking man, than she had ever .wasted on,eon-of %his pr)eciesbefore. Of course lie knew 1ithlng ot^ Ii this. lWhatever may have bden hi ownfeelings on the subject, it never once occurred to him, that she was thinking of anythingi more serious than the mere amusement of the hour, Qr.did phelherpelf know what it really meant. Matters were in this state, wheIn the Ilu'tonb, whiso -place adjoided Lynde hurst announced their intention of giving a fail; tQ waaiih a ilumber of city people were Invited. Jessie, by this time, had determined to try indifferenco also, but on her first attempt had h'er toipderrfmd by the flash of amusement which succeeded the usual exprensson of half-dreamy cabh. e eye..bf her tormentor. Harry Hazelton was rather a handsome man. le had a fine figure, and whatever his features lacked of perfect symmetty, was Atoned-for by-the briglJt inelligence an d frank truthfutlness of his exi)ression. A fpw days before Mrs. Auron's ball, Hatelt6n anif6ointed -his iteh'tiorr of "leav ing the country as soon as it was over. The time lie had allowed himself for rest and rdecroain was nearly over, and ie must rdturn t'6 the citi and to his work. Then Jessie learnt, as by a flash, that what she trad thought only disapointment and pique; his feeling that had filled her thoughts with -his inige; was something deeper. Somiething that terrified her, and made her inderstand, somewhat, the pain which she jad too often carelessly inflicted on others. ELazelton was looking at her i earnestly, hough, so, with some laighing remark, lhe changed the subject, and soon after oft the room. From this time, her man~oir to.hin * was nore indifferent and coquettish than ever. 5he was trying to prove to herself, as well I is to him, that she cared not for either his yresence or departure. The night of the ball, Jessie, and several riends who had come up from town for it, t vore waiting in the drawing-room lor some t nore tardy individual, when Harry Hazel- s on dropped in, en passant. Jessie was g naking ,up little bouquets to decorate the t oats ol two gentlemen, who, in full party a ir. were earnestivwatching the process. a "There, Captain Roland, could anything I ie lovelier I'' she exclaimed, as she handed V o one of them an exquisite combination of t ca-rose buds, heliotrope and geranim C eaf. 0 "Nothing could possibly be more lovely, a iliss Conrad,"lie answered, not looking C t the flowers at all, but into her face in- 1 tead. 1 Just then Jessie saw Hazelton approach- I ng, and smiling up into Captain Roland's I ace,ahe gave him acouettish glance from i [tr ount, eyes. nut nu Ii a1UUu LIM ugrn losing of her lips, or thp Ih that over pread her countenace, as atie bent over a he table for more blossoms. "And what shall yours be, Major Golde?" 8 ked Miss Conrad, il "Oh, anything you like, Miss Conrad. b leave it to your taste entirely. Knowing Low Terfect that is always." This was a safe thing for the gallant najor to do, under most circumstances, as t ie didn't know one flower from another 1 3ut to-night, Jessie, seized with a spirit 8 f mischief, arranged a little bunch of 0 narigolds, and pinning them to his coat, i :ade him go ask Marie Burton the name of C us flowers, and they might serve him a 1 louble purpose. The poor man was deep- c y smitten with a young lady in the neigh- t morhood, but being baashfuil, could never a ouster dip the courage to pronose to her. ~ esi thought she would help im a little. ~ Major Go1lde looked pled~i, and therej ras a general laugh, in the mtjm of which he heard Haizeltoni's voice sayirig' sofItly ''I ch1oo08 forget-me-niots for mine, Miss l onrad." But Jessie pretended not, to hear, and xclaiming. "Conme, come, goodi people, ye are sadlj forgetting Mrs. iBurton and hose delitcions Strauss waltzes I" she ] novedt slowly towayd the door, singing oftely to herself.a "Some time' before, she had promised s lazelton a certain special dance for this' mall, but chanjked her~ nund afterward, and s vas quite ready to ignore his claim. Shme I: vas just, going off with some one else,whoen 2 me caime to remind~ her of it, and she had a a auicy, half petulant aiswer on her lips, vhen he said eagerly "Don't say you have forgotten these. i.'on must at least reineujnber that this is my nst, dance with you." ( His ince and tone wvere traroecarnest han she had ever kinownu them, and, half mgainst her will, shme yielded. As soon as he muich disgaisted young man to whom [cssic made ner excuses had taken himself ff, Hazelton said-c "It is too warmL to dance this evening; I nil you come into thogardons with ime in toad?" and Jessie assented, much mar- e relling at his sud(deni ind~ifference to the ong p~romised ''German.' T[hey strolled onfortsomne minutes, talk ng lightly anid carelessly of indifferenit a ubjects, until their path crossed a pretty, a uparklng little stream, spanned by a rustic ridgc. '[he moonlight was floating all hiings with a soft radiance; streaming over. hte golden hair, and deepening the lovely,I liquid eyes of the young girl. Jessie 'I ooked like a veritiable Undune that night,c in her x'obes of pale green gani~e, with the ewels sparkling about her like dlrops of purest, water where they cathhl the rays of I ight,. Turning to one side Harry Haze!- , ton arranged a seat for her at the foot di a I I ree, and half reclining on the grass at her feet, began throwing pebbles into the water. Neither spoke for aomos time,. for Jessie did not understandl this new mnoodI of his, and was occupiedl besides in trying to unar derstand and quell the tumutlt of ceotions mi her own breast. Presently Hlazelton turned "Miss Conrad, I asked you for a few for get-me- note tis eveniug, amnd you refused them. Was it, so great a request to make?" For I know that you heard me." "Perhaps 1 did(; bug you ought to know that it is too late "for' for-get-me-nets to blossom now." "1 begin to fear so, indeed," ' swered. half bitterly. -"But your real reason, will you flower now~ '.Thc . "Oi, Sees, ceri snnflower, for I don't see anything else growing near," -she siud, laughing remorse lessly. Hazelton smiled slightly. "Even a sunflower would be precious, if you gave it, Jessie; but I had hoped for another flower than that, to night, to wear near.my heart: I want you to give me back my heartease, Jessie, which I lost many weeks ago, and noyer dared, till to day, make any efforts to regain. For I love you I I love you, you beautiful child, and I know that there Is a soul,and a warm true heart .bepting beneath this mantle of apparent illffw'ence. Look into my eyes darling, and tell me it I have read you %right." He had risen, as'she. lifted her eyes to ts, Jessie saw something in them, which iad never been there. before. Something which made her -whole -being thrill, and >vercome, and frightened by this strange iow.feeling, she burst into a passion of ,cars. But. Hazelton had seen her face, mad was apparently at no loss to under itand their cause, for caressing the golden iead that lay on his breast, with a thou mand tender words, he soothed her Into dieticss. And the moonlight streamed lovingly wer them; -and thd stregailet, and the tight winds whispering through the trees, old one another of the Undinc, who had ound her heart, only to lose it again. And his was how Jessie cono -red the "Invin ible. Not many days later, the whole neigh orhogd was electrified by the discovery of he owner of Lyndehu'st. iB - parents ad died, while he'was yet a mere baby nd the child was brought up and edubated y some charitable person. The returnof a old woman, who had once been his urse, after many years absence from the outry, led at last to his identfication. 'he name of the lost heir of Lyndehurst ras Harry Hazelton. " ot Tall Varmints." If a hunter, outprospcoting, goes through wpOods or clearings or open fields. and finds he. stones turned up- for acres and acres, ie knows a bear 'has been there and has nade his home for the nonce in the vicin ty. Bears are very fond of crickets, s'ugs ind bugs of all kinds, and they know that licir favorite insects make their h'omes in te fall under stones on the ground. Con equently they select sikts Wihere the round is covered with stones, and turn hem up to get at the bugs.' Yellow jacket nd hornet nests, or rather their contents, re favorite morsels with the black bear. f a bear sees a yellow jacket or a hornet rorking in the woods he acts like a crazy [iing until he finds the hole the one enters r the tree or rock to which the nest of the ther is fastened. He prances and dances round through the woods, licking his hops and whining and growling until his inerring scent leads him to the object of is search. Then he gets right down to usiness. Yellow jackets build their nests a the gr mund. When the bear finds one takes- but a few swoope %71 J4 Jui paws -u - 29 rnm AO -ue Des swarm out a clouds and cover the bear until he looks a if he was painted yellow. le pays no ttention to their attacks, although an as sult of yellow jackets on almost any other nimal would soon result in death. The ear merely shuts his eyes and grins as he coops the honey out with his paws and cks them off unt1 the nest is despoiled of very trace of its sweetnesp. The old hun -r who gives these observations on the do iestic habits of the bear declares that he hot a big bear once in Pinchot Swamp, ver in the High Knob region. He killed , but when lie went in to drag the carcass ut he found that the bear had been rob Ing a yellow jacket's nest, and it was still overed with the fiery little insects. "If bat b'ar had been wounded only, and had howed fight, i'd waltzedl right into it nithiout any delay. But when one o' them ussed little hot tail varnmlnts of a yaller acket camte a divm' at me I didn't want one o' him, and 1 cut and run. I wan't feered co' no wounded b'ar, but that yaller ee scare. mein out. I didn't dare to go fter that b'ar till next dlay." A *1,oo r ,r a Right of lier. The ot. r night Bickh~s wvent home In )etroit, nit found lisa wife particularly otrosp~ecta 'e. Shte talked of the p~ast with tear and 'ooked to the future with a gh. "Oh, by the way," said Bickela, as lie it on the side of the bed p~ulling off his' oot. "I saw a gentleman down town to ny who would eLive ai thousand dollars to eo you." "Who was lie? Does he live In Little ock ?" "I don't know Is home." "I'li warr'a.. you that it was Oliver rregg." "No." "Then lie must be Gieorlre Weatherton." "Guess again. I might know his name I were to hear it." "Oh, 1(do Wish I knew I" said the lady, xhibiting excitemnenl. ."Was It Oscar 'copies ?" "Guess again. I rcmember his name ow." "Ilarvey Glenlkins.;" "'No ; lia name is Lucas Wentwing." "I do'n't, knmow a man by that name. Vhy would lie give a thousand dlollars to Be mie ?" "Becauso hie's blind." now saunafih 1( m1 W ales. No one whose experience has ever given umi an opportunity to comnsider the differ. nco in size between a whale and a sawllsh wouild for a miomnent suspect the latter of atlitg the former. Yet as honest a look. ng Captain as ever ibrilled at the prospect f being interviewed by a reporter, inti natedl that such, though unsuspected gen rally, 18 a fact, The .Captain was over anuled dn the Pacillc Mail (hock, havbig in hiarge the beak of a sawfish, measuring lye feet in length andl armed with twenty eeth Qn.cithecr sidle. "ilaw 'om?..O' course hey d6u't saw 'enm; they jabs 'em. They ~ruise alongside a whale and jabs 'em until hey strike their engine rooms or some such )mrt, and1( that settles 'cm. Eats 'cm I Why look hiere l What, else would they kill enm for ?" The Captain's argument, wasof hle salty nature, that is, unanswerable, and hle repo'rter was content to silently con sider the proposition whether the captain's the sawish's app~etite ""'a, admiration. '4 inhorid The Obelisi, A drunken policeman in, New York, a few nights ago, took the obelisk for a dis orderly polo pliyer In a 'reo ulster, and, going up to the monolith, arrested It. The Ice at the base of the stone Added to the uncertainty ot the pollceman'F footing, and as he swayed around it seemed to him that while he was as firnj as a rock his prisoner was not only drunk and dislderly but was trying to escape. Then, with a presence of mind always present, drunk or sober, lie drew out his club and begah to make his mark alongside the ancient Egyptian hiero glypics. Hiaving worked himself into a secure position, where he n' longer slip ped, lie concluded that lie hld brought his prlsoner to terms. Then le deterinned to get the necessary pedigree for the police records. "What is yer name ?" "1hothnes Obelisk." "Where was you born ?" "On." "On what'?" "On Egyptian soil." "Whar you iiperent devl(?' "Heliopols." "None of yer furrin jabber to me. I hate furriners. Mind yees, yor in New Yawk now, the capitule of the Irish re public. Now, how old are you?" "Three thousand five hundred and eighty years." "Now I know yer drunk.' blarried or single ?" "P've got a sister." "Wall, I don't care ef you have fifty. Have-you got a wolfe and family?' "rhere were forty In the fAmily." ."An' d'ye mane-to say yer'he daddy of 'eut all? Bejabbers, if you don't answer me question 1'll break yer skull." "You refertomy pyramldib, Isuppose?" "None of yer furren talk, A1 tould you. Now, tell me if you are mart'ied." "I ai wedded to solitu'de." "Ye belong to a quare famiiy. Yer namne Is Tominies O'Bliskes, and yer wolfe's name is Sally 'ude. Be garra. I belalve yer're a crooked man. Now, what's your occupation?" "A policeman. I have been out on post for 8,000 years." "Are yer a Tannany man?" "I don't understand." "Whi's yer backer; who got you on the force ?" "Pharaoh." "The man on Ann street I many of us have the same influence. Do you get a steady stake ? You do ? Thim you must be a Captain. No wonder you're tough," adut divining that he had made a mistake, the policeman ran away as fast as his legs would take him, while the obelisk took an ither nap of a thousand years. The Fairy in the P1nk. Just when the rosy day peoped over the 4ldl1 a lovely pink bloomed in the garden. Its sweet breath floated away on the air, dUw ekaigVgO y)Ao qpleeping un Ap, ,'iv. sD'ang - "Oh, dear," she sighed, "it is too late to go home to-day l" And she flew swiftly Lo the pink and nestled in its fragrant leaves. By and by little Helen came down the garden path, and spied the blushing pink. She ran to it, and stooping down she cried, "You darling pretty flower 1" and kissed it. Then the fairy raised her tiny head and kissed little Helen on the lips. ielen did not see her, but her heart became so glad that she folded her soft hands over the pink and said, "You have made ine so happy that you shall be my only own." She picked the rosy pink with the fairy still nestled in a fragrant corner. "Oh, mamma " she cried, as she saw her moth er in the garden, "I have found such a lovely Ilowver, and I have taken It for my only own, and 1 never was so happy." "Very wvell, Ihelen," answvered her moth er, "see if you can be as sweet all (lay long as your lovely carnation. But come now wi me ; 1 am going to carry some oranges andl jdlly to p)oor sick Flora. You may bring your pin1k with you and show It to her." So they went to tire room where little Flora lay upon her hed. 11er face was as white, almiost, as the pillo0w. She smiledi as .helen and her mother camne near, and her eyes brightenell as she saw the jelly and or-ange. But when little l[elen camne to her side she reached out her hand tor the sweet carnation. Then Ihelen held the pink to Flora's hot hips, and the little fairy crep)t slyly out and kissedl them. ''Keep it," whispered llehen, softly ; "'It makes your eyes 1 tok like heaven." Flora clasped the flower im her fingers, andl pressedi it again to her lips. Theiin a sweet smile swep~t over her face as she sighed, "Ilow glad it makes me 1" "Y es," repliedI Ielen's mother, "you look as If you would soon get well now." And the fairy In the fragrant corner of the ir'" -hed. 11cr name was lieart's Con ten ppy day !'' said little Ihelen. Camne to liies. Recently two dlogs golt lnte a dimspuite on Fourth street, near Michigan avenue, De.. troit, and~ from growls they canme to bites. Trhey were pretty everyimatehed, aiid the contest continuedI unt ii a cro wd of fifty p~eole had formed a circle. Pretty soon a inisterial looking person halted, watch edl the fight for a half a miiite, and then hurried out on the avenue and said to a milk-dealer. "My good man, a (log fight ms a brutal spectacleg aind It lies in your power to end '"11ow ?" "Drive right through the crowd and over the animals. i'll warrant they'll stop their bloody wvork before they will be troddlen undler' foot." S"1 guess Il try it," mu~sedl the milkman, id(1 le gathieredl up the reins, yelled at the c(-owd and dIrove for the (logs. I1t was a bad drive on him. The two fij ters kept right on at It, rolled under t he horse, and the next minute ixteen gllons of millk were being absorbed by the a ow, the driver was In a drift and the l#>rse was shooting up Fourth street with the sad remains of the 01(1 sleigh. "Where-where in--wherm in Texas is that chap who put me up to thiis?" gspedI the milkman as they pulled him out ox the "'ow; but the sole answer was made by a Jwho pointed at the figure of a man un p' plug hat traveling toward the Uty a at the rate of twenty miles anl hour. Ione~vuckle Hail. Little Patty was eight years old. She lived in the "Sunny South." Her father was a planter, as great farmers are called at the South. le lived in a village where there were a great many good and klud people. A poor man who lived near Patty lost his life on the railroad. le had three little children. *Patty used to play with Mary, the oldest child. Mary's mamma was not strong, and could not earn money enough to feed and clothe her little ones. One day Patty found her little friend Mary, crying. Mary was hungry, as she had no breakfast or dinner. Her mother was sick abed. Patty cried, too, when Mary told her what the matter was. But she did something more than cry. She went home and told her mother about it. Then 8he carried ever so much food to the poor woman and her hungry children. Patty wanted to (o still more. She called together five of her little friends to help her. It was early spring,and and the woods were full of honeysucklc all in blossom. Patty's two big brothers helped her, too. Before night they had covered the inside of an old shop near the house, with honey suckle vine and blossoms. The borrowed pictures and other pretty things to put in the shop. But the honeysuckle was the prettiest thing there, except Patty; and they called the shop "iloneysuckle Hall." Then the dittle ones asked the good people to come and see it. They charged live cents to go In, and before night nearly all the people n the village had been into "Honeysuckle Hall. One of the big brothers stood at the door and took the money. The six little girls "did the honors" inside the hall. Most of the folks who went in wanted to give more than five cents. At night they had taken over fifty dollars. Every cent of it was given to Mary's poor mother. Patty was happy all (ay long. H1er great black eyes seemed to speak her pleasure. 11er face was all smiles as she stood by a minlow, with honeysuckle in her hands md all around her. Do you want to know why she looked so liappy ? It wus because she was doing a good deed. The poor woman and her three ittle children were hungry no more. Facts in the Uaso. A few weeks ago a train over one of the railroads running west from Detroit, ran )ver a cow juat beyond the Grand Trunk unction. 'The matter was reported at ieadquarters, 'but the owner of the bo vine was not heard of until a few days later, when he entered the president's office and remarked : "I guess we'd better settle up low for that cow." "Ah, you o ivned the -ow killed Of one of our trains in Novem )er, did you?" -I expect I did." "And wyhat did you value her at?" The man icratched his head, hitched on his chair, md finally replied: "Well, I dun no., My )rother-in-law said I had the company -ighter'n, blazes, and he told me t Wj'm11 FAY.t 'ivl %gn ay1 said I'd >etter say that the cow was not worth over 5o.'' "Yes. Well, how was it?" "That's fvliere the stick comes in, you see. I want li she was worth, and yet I don't want to iwindle anybody. Fact is, she was an old xow, dry as a bone, and worth about $15 [or boarding-house beef. Yet she was ook away kinder sudden, and it made - a )ad muss around the place, and I reckoned you might add a little extra." "Let (Is jay $25.'' That's plenty. I s'pose I might ave had fifty just as well as not, but 1 lidn't want to lie about it." "No; never ,ll a lie." "Oh, I wouldn't have lied, cause I knew you sent a maii out thore to it all the facts in the dase I" replied the non, as he received an order on the treas irer for his check. 1winter in iluqtsta.. The Russians have a great, knack for ma ding thmeir winters pleasant. You feel lothing ot the cold in those tightly-built houses where all the doors and windows are louble, anid where the rooms are kept warm Jy big stoves hidden in the wails. Thero s no damp in a Russian house, and the in mates may dress-indoors in the lightest of gairbs, which contrast oddly with the mass >f furs and wraps which they don when goinmg out. A Russian can afford to run o risks of expomure when he leaves the mouse for a walk or drive. Hie covers his head and ears with a fur bonnet, his feet md legs with felt boots lined with wool or ur ; which are (drawn on over the ordi icry boots and trousers, and reach to the. <necs ; lie next cloaks himsell in an ample top-coat, with fur collar, lining and cuffs; mud he buries hisi hands in a pair of finger ess gloves of seal or bear akin. Thus 3quipped, and with the collar of his coat raised all rouind so that it muffles him up to the eyes, the Russian exposes only his nose to the cold air ; and he takes care frc rjuuently to give that organ a little rub to keep the circulation going, A stranger who is apt to forget that precaution, would often get lia nose frozen if it wore not for the courtesy of the Russians, who will al ways warn him if they see his nose 'white ning,'' and will, unbidden, help him to chnfe it vigorously with snow. In Russian cities walking is just possible for meon dui ring winter, but-hardly so her ladies. The womeon of the lower ordlers wear knee hmoots those of the shop-keeping claises seldiom venture out'at all ; those of thle ar istocracy go out in sleighs. These sleIghs are by no means pleasant vehicles for ner vous people, for thle Kalnuc coaclunen dIrive them at such a terrifile pace that they frequenmly capsize: but persons not (des11 tute of pluck bind their motion most enjoy able, 1t must be added that to be spilled out of a Russian Sleigh is tantamount only to getting a rough tumble on a soft mat iress , for the veiy thick furs in which the victim is sure to be wrapped will boenough to break the fail, The houses and hovels of the Russian working classes are as well warmed as those of the aristocracy.- A stove is always the prinichia item of furniture in them; and these contrivances are used to sleep on as well as to cook In. The mujick, having no bed, curls himself. up on his stove at his timie for going to rest ; sometimes lie may be0 found creeping right into the stove and enjoying the delights of a good vapor bath. The amount of heat which a I us slan' will stand is amazmng, and his cate lessness in facing the cold immediately af ter ward not less so. On a Saturday, which is washing day all over Russia, you may see in any vlhlage a mujick who ha been cooking himself in lis stove till he is of a color like boiled lob ster, rush naked into the snow, and ro himself in it like a dog, till lie glows a over to his satisfaction. It seems mo: strous that one of the Russians prmcipt protections against cold-his beard-wa laid under penalty by Peter the Great an subsequently by Elizabeth and Catherin II, when they were trying to civilize tlicl subjects according to the custom of th West. These three sovereigns all laid tax on beards; and peasants entering citie on market days were required to exlubit ii proof that they had paid their tax, a bras coin stamped with a bearded face and thi words. "boroda lignala tiagota" (the bear< tax has been settled). This absurd imposl was abolished by Paul : but the effects of i still survive In a manner, for the beard i still considered "bad form" in arfatocratic circles. Military offlicers wear only mous. tache and whiskers; diploinatists and other civjl servants eschew the whiskers, and generally reap their faces altogether. A Russian with a beard is pretty sure to b( either a "Pope" or a nember of one of the classes below the upper middle. I ho Fedestriil an1d tie nLlioolhilounids. Hearing Lord W. boast that his blood. hounds would track any living thing, by scent alone, Col. A. wagered a hundred guineas they would not track a man, an(] asked Mountjoy to win the wager for him, assuring the startled pedestrian there was no danger of the dogs catching him as they were slow runners, an( lie would take care suilcient start was allowed hmn; the ob ject being simply to test their power of scent. The trial duly came off over three miles of ground round Hnmpstead Heath. After the dogs had sniffed at Mountjoy's legs, he mide his way leisurely for half the course, when the flag was dropped and the hounds set loose. They tracked their quariy splendidly, but were 600 yards be hind when Mountjoy reached the inu at the end of the course, and shut the dor upon thenm, outside which they howled their dissatisfaction until removed by their keeper. Disbelievers in the bloodhound's scent were still unconvinced, averring that they had sighted the man for part of the journey at least ; and to settle the point beyond (lispute, another snatch was made, to be run at night, the distance this time being but a mile and a half. Unsuspicious of foul play, Mounijoy went, gayly on his way, but had not, accomplished more than two-thirds of the distance ailowed hii by the conditions, when his hair stood on end, as the cry of the dogs, hot upon his trail, reached his ears. They had been pur posely slipped before the proper time, without any warning. "For one second," said lie, "I stood stock still, as if I had been frozen, and then dashed away and ran as I had never done before, and have never since. 1 was in perfect training and con dition, but the cold sweat broke out from every pore, and poured down my body, while my legs seemed like lead, and I tren bled all over. Stili 1 kept desperately on, while nearer and nearer caine the deep hoagse bay of the hounds as the-scent grow 11p- Tneir-pfey. 'i tnotlght I was 160t. Those few seconds were like weeks, and I wondered whether they would grip ne first by the leg or fly straight at my throat. Luckily, I did not lose my head ; and after the first inad burst I settled down and raced away at a pace which I knew would last the distancei but still closer and closer caie U.4 horrible cry, that sounded like my death-khell ; and, in sheer desperation, I put on all the speed I could. At last I saw tho lights of the lonely little Inn, .and my heart rbse within ne, but at that very instant the bilutes broke out Into a fierce savage yell that told me that they had sighted me at last. There was a small garden in front of the house, and as I flew up to it I saw the gate was shut. How I did it 1 never knew, but, blown and cx hausted with terror and1( tihe pace as 1 was, I cleared it, darted through the door, which fortunately stood open, and~ slammning it to, stood with my back against, it. The lock had hardly closed, whein bang I bang I against theC panee camne my terrible puir suers; and( then they lay dlown and yelled savagely at fInding themselves baulked of their prey." As soon1 as lie felt himiself safo rage took th~e pla1ce of fear, and, seiz ing hold of a bottle, Alountjoy swore lie would brain Lord W. if ho entered the place, a threat lie would have fulfilled h-id not those prmesent got him out of the romi in tiiie to preventnmost justifhable homicide. Marriage in tliO Celestiai IEmpire. Thirty pairs of emnbrouderedi shippers are necessary for the tresseau of a Chinese lady of p~ositioin, and1( her boudoir is crammncd with confectionery, dried fruits, burnt al mends, barely sugar, syrup of aloes, oraiiges, ginger, aiid shiaddocks, In confu sion with rich silks, jetvels- of wrought goldl anid precious stones, rings, bracelets, case of nails, bodkins for the hair, and a thuousandl other charming nick-nacks. In this strange country a young girl when she marries never has a dowrvy. 8he is liter ally purchased either b~y the husband hinm afor by his relation a. Although she may have no brothers, she cannot inherit any portion of her paternal fortnine unless her father makes aii express declarton in her favor. Such arrangements are always coiipiletedl before the marriage, and are usually negotiated by agerits, calledl "Me jill." The young /inee is next presentedl to tier husband's parents. The husband himself she' never sees until the wedding day, when she is carried in a closed chair to the house. The key of the chair is handied to the bridegroom, who opens the door, and if tie lady within pleases hits tasto lie holds out Is hand to her; if not,, he ulamns the engagement is at an end, the girl's parents having thme right to retaifi the I*u' i ''< money. Fowls to Last tihe Week. A Detrolt grocer took a new clerk a few (lays ago, andi anmng other things lie cau tioned him to keep a god lookout and see that none of thme goods at the front door were stolen. The othier evening whieii the gweecr returned from supper lie thought li vould give th' clerk a fright, and lie crept softly up and took twelve diressed chickens from a b~asket, andI carried them around to the back door, and lhung them on a hook. When the chickens were missed the clerk was givei) a bad scare by being informed that lie must pay fcr them. After a while the grocer dlecided that the joke hid lipen carried far enough, and he went out to bring in the chickens. They had..flown away. Wbile hie was scaring the clerk some one had come through the alley and provided himselt with fowl to last all the week. ., FOOD FOR THOUGHT. Contentment is better than money, 1 and just about as scarce. e The mean man is always meanei to I himself than any one else. 1 Fortune dreads the brave and is r only terrible to the coward. 3 Tne beat way to see :nother light Is I to put out your own candle. Earnestness of purpose can. spring I only from strong convictions. - To be able to please is already a great advance towards persuading. There can be no true thankfhlness where there is no benevolence. Calumny would soon die it nobody took It in and gave it lodgings. Falsehood alway endeavors to copy the in3) and attitude of truth. There would be fewer youn'tfools if there were more wise elders. Say not, because thou canst rief do everything, "1 will do nothing." Oreatness iaay build the tomb, but goodness must make the epitaph. Better ride on a donkey that carries you than a horso that throws.you, - Flattery is a bad sort of monsy, to which our vanity gives currency. lie who would acquire fame must not show himself afraid of censure. Ten men fail from a defect in m9r als to one from a defeot In Intellot;. We should know- many more things if we believed less in impossibilities. To secure tile greatest amount-of happiness in life-enjoy the preseut. lie who can at all times sacritfie pleasure to duty approacies subliLul ty. lie is the only rich man who hlas learned to be contented with what he has. llave your mind in your workand you will have your work .in your mind. The beauty of the face is al eilable thing but the beauty of the ieart laits longer. The trouble with many communities is, that their uoad inen refuse to-be burled. lie that cannot forgive otherabraks the bridge over which he imdst."ps himself. Poverty is like a panther-look it earnestly in the face and it will tarn from you. Man believes t'hat to be a lie Which ontLiadicts the testimony of.his.y ignorance. - bu ' There Is nothing vli but Ats within us; tne rest is either fiaturailzr acidental. Those who have little are always ready to strike an Sverage with tjee who have much. Friendship ofteii acts e 4g e thsm, in which contraiy states attrT, and similar repel. % ' meont Mrn~tn~eIl~i65It energies to waiting. Knowledge when in th. on of only a few, has aliways b ?- 'ed to liiquitous purposes. - The dower which we (o hof0l#ublis tihe only one which never lo4esats beau .y or its fragrance. Four things come not back tlie brdy OIL word, the sped arrow, the past ills, and neglected oppohunity. It is untair to say that a- m ai 'does good deeds only for effect, mei'ely be cause lie doea them with elluet. : Vhie happiness of the tender heat -is increased Dy what it can 'takb- Why trom the wretchedness of others. All the blows we strike.should be for a purpose; every nail should be a ri y et in tine machine of the universe. An amount of blood equal to the whole quantity in the body passes through the heart onlce in every min ute. A man cannot possess everytli~g mha is b-etter than a good womain, nbr aniythiing that is worse than a bad Great vlces are th'e proper objects of o'.Ir detest tilon-smlaller fattIt-.of our p)ity ; but affectation appears to be the only trite source of the ridiculous.. No man 14as come to true greatness what has nlot felt inl somne degree that Is life belongs to his race, anid that what, God gives him lhe gives hlim for mnankluid The very heart and root of Binll issn independent and selfish spirit. -We erect thelidol self, anld not only wish others to worsly it, but wo worship it ourselves. . The smallest motion Is of importance in nature the whole suabstance of the sea moves when we throw in a pebble. So in the life oh grace, the most trilling 'action has a bearing in its consequenc es upon the whole. Ever'ything then is~imi)portant... Our popular definition of a ghosto is Just the reverse of the truth; It mai es one consist of a soul without a bg y, whuile really a spectre, an illuitsott a h umbug of the eyesight and the ton h is a human body not vitalzed through and through with a soul, 'The harp holds In its wires the p~os sibilities'of noblest elhordA; yet if ti'e be not struck, they must hang dull and useless. So the mind is. vested with a hundred p~ow~ers, thlat must be s liteni by a heavy hand to prove thenisolf ee the ofi'pring of divinlit~y. W hat a difference have we of ten asen betwixt our aflitlons at our .-s mecetinlg with, and at our parting frm them? We have entertained him with sighs and tears, but parted r~m them wIth joy, blesshing God tor'tlim as the happy instrulments o1 out.,owu good.' In the decline of life, shame and rief are of short duration: who herit be ihiat we bear easily what we haveborne lonig, or that, flading oursely etii-go loss regarded, we less rega di~uy; or, that we leek with sli r~rd upon illcetionis, to Whilch we ioihat the hand of death is aboutk to 1>uCranu end, ...aar d When the barbarous praties 4tabgff ng one's guests shall hav 1-a.~o. sheod a social gatherbni 1ap - cessarily imply hard lk o'and'y pu ,ia. .Perhaps, when thab thrneltf1Y s, He shall .be sufio~ntiy~oib)lip9 dje I4and.g pesureot h i er the eon rtainments 4lii ~'the senser beiiore eostly; as ou 66%t alore than oaice, 6 ' ! w