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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., MAY 24, 1881. ESTABLISHED 1865. "The sky is olouded, the rooks are baro; The spray of thie tempest is white ii air; The winds are out with the sea at play, And I shall not tempt the sea to-day. The trail Is narrow, the woods tre dh'n, The panther clings to the arobing limb, And the lion's whelps are.abroad at play, And I shall not join in the chase to-day. But the ship sailed safely over the sea, And the hunters came from the chase in gleo And the town that was buildod upon a rook Was swallowed up in the eartLquako shook. Trapped by an Heiress. A cosici place than the big sitting-room at Hillcrest would have been hard to find. if one had traveled from Land's Ed to John O'Groat's; and this eventful evening, when the destines of two worthy people were about taking definite form-two peo ple who had never seen each other, and who had heard of each other so often that both were curiously eager to meet-on this importaut evening the sitting-room at Hill crest had never looked pleasanter or co sier. A huge fire of loga glowed like molten carbuncles in the open fireplace; on the table in the centre of the floor, whose cover matched the glowing crimson of the carpet, was a silver stand that held a dozen snowy wax tapers, whose beaming light contrasted exquisitely with the ruddy glow of the fire. Beside the table, in a big cushioned chair, with his feet thrust toward the genial wainmth on the hearth, his grey dressing gown sitting comfortably on his portly form, his gold-rimed glasses on his nose, sat the owner and master of Hillcrest, Mr. Abiah Cressiogton, rich, good-natured, ant fond of his own way. Opposite him was the mistress of the place-little, shrew-faced merry Aunt Cornelia, his sister, who, since her widowhood, has come to Hillcrest to nlake her bachelor brolher's home as pleasant as she could. That she had succeeded was evident by the way now in which he looked up from a letter he had been reading-the confiden tial, kindly way in which lie did it. "Walter writes l curious letter mi response to my invitation to come and spend a few weeks at Hillerest as soon as lie gets over his fatigue from his ocean voyage home, after his five years' tour abroad. I'll read it to you " He leaned over the softly-glowing light, and began the short, concise reply that Walter Austin had written from his cham ber in the Temple: *'You are very kind, indeed, Uncle Abiah, to ask me down to Hillcrest for as long as I wish to stay, and I can assure you that I have been so long a wanderer that the idea of a home is very pleasant to me. But when I take into consideration the peculiar iinportance you propose at taching to' my visit, I am unwilling to ac cept the invitation. To mo the idea of havIng my fancies and mclinatioau put into harness, and to feel that I am on cou tinual duty to win my way into the good graces of my second cOusin, Mabel, whohi you are good enough to wish me to marry-" ' Mrs. Corneha interrupted sharly "Abiah, you never went and told our grand-nephew that you had In view his marriage with Mabel?" Her tone was energetic, almost repre hensive. "Why not? 1 certainly did. I told him in my letter that it was a chance for him he'd never get again, and that he needn't feel under such terr'ble obligations to take a fancy to Phil's little Mabel, but to conic down and be cousinly, and if any thing should happen. it'd be right all around, Mrs. CorIieha knitted vigorously, her lavender cap ribbons quivering~ in the mel low taper ghtaw. "All 1 have to say is, you're-A fool, Abilhl Walter is right. A young man doesn't like to have his fancies under rein and whip, and the very fact that we want him to nmrry will make hinm indisposed to do it. You've made a great mistake in the beginning." Mi. Cressington looked aghast at his sis ter's determined face. "Why, 1.really didn't suppose-" "Of course you- didn't. It's only your natural stupidity, yoe' dear old 'fellow! Men are all alike. Don't. I know them like a book? And you've ruined your hopes for Mabel and Waiter at the v.ery outset," Mr. Cressington started discomfitedly. "I am sure I ment .it all right enough, Cornelia. I certainly wanted Waiter to know what a little darling our Mabel te, and what a nice little wife she would make for any man," "Very commendable, indeed; only, if you had consunlted me uponi the letter you send I should have advised you to say noth tag about Mabel or her charius, or~ her ex pectations. I should have simply asked him to come and see us, and have left the rest to Mabel's blue eyes. You see now, Abiah?" kis lips compressed slowly, "I think I. see. And my ho~pes in that direction are all ruined." Trhe silver needles clicked rapidly, and the snow.whiite yarn came reeling mierrily, off the ball under her arm. "N4ot at all. Leave that to me, and I'll see what con be done. Trust a womtait's wit to get even a blundering olti fellow like yourself out of a serape." Bhe smiled and nodded, anid looked alto getherso -mischievous thmat . Mr. Creasing ton .jecte quite- excited over her little mystery. "Do explain, Cornehia." And when she explained lie leaned back in nla chair, with an expression of positive awe andl admiration oi' his face. "What a woman you are,,CIornehaI 1 dleclare, it beats anything I e'ver beard in thme whole course of my life!" e * *. * * * * Af ter dusk, a glorious winter day, with here arid there a star $winkling in the pale gray sky, and sthe 1iglgt~ .and firee in thme Hlicrest altting 6hmi-mgking an eldquenit welcome to Waltr Austiht as hf ttoodl in the midst of the home-'ircle,; t$1l, gehtle, manly, handsome and sell-ppssesed. Old Mr. Cressington~ wqa In hii. rIchest humor as he led'forwa:cd two vounhg girls. ' Come don't be shy now, Walter, this is your cousiMA,(e bnynd this is yen. Mynephew, ?Ir, ,Walt Austin,girls. And thi Iu.: Qraoellg-ypou 'r'emedber well enough, ''? And an th 1Aesediation was merrily gotten over, and Waiter found himself at -home i the liost pleasint family no'had ever known. They were remarkably pretty girls, with deep blue eyes-although bliss Vance's were decidedly the deeper blue add more bewitching-and lovely, yellow-gold hair. Walter found himself adnuring the Style of Miss Vance's co-!ffur before he had known her an hour; and when he went up to Is room that night he felt ab if between the two, roguish Mabel and sweet little Irene. he would never come out heart whole. "For Mabel is a good little darling," thought he, "and 1 will take Oreatuncle Ablah's advice and fall in love with her, and thereby secure a generous share of the Cressington estate. .igadl that's a happy thought hut the handsome young genlieman went to sleep and dreamed, instead of Mabel's laughing eyes, of Irene's gentle, tender ones; and awoke somewhere in the middle of the night, unable to get asleep again for thinkiag of her. And the after days were not much better. Despite the golden value of Mabel, there was something about Irene Vance that made this headstrong fellow very foolishly indifferent to the advice lie had sworn to follow. "Because, by Jove! a fellow would have to be made out of granite to resist the sweet shy ways of such a little darling as Irenel And I'll marry her if she'll have me,- and the money and property may go to the dogs. I've a head and a pair of handsand blue-eyed Irene shall not sufferl" It was not an hour later that he met fier in the hall, carrying great boughs of holly, with which to testoon, down the walnut staircase. "Give me your burden, Irene," said he. "Why did you not tell me you were going to gather it, and let me go with you? It is altogether too heavy a burden for 'your arms to bear." Lie managed to get the lovely sprays from her arms, but it iequired an innense amount of tardy effort on his part,and shy, sweet blushing on her's. "Answer me, Irene, Why didn't you let me go with you? Wouldn't you have liked it." Hu demanded her answer in the most captivating, lordly way, and she dropped her eyes In great confusion. "Then why were you so cruel to me?" "1 am not ciuel to anybody. Indeed I niust go now." S Walter placed himselt squarely In the way, and was looking down at hr rose tinted face. "No, you can't go yet. Irene, you are cruel, or you would never deprive one of the opportunity to enjoy the blessedness of your society." His voice lowered ten derly, and he dropped his head nearer her golden curls. "You know I think it cruel in you to be so distant, and shy, and re served witn me-don't you, Irene?" dhe shrank away, her lovely form drool) ing inte a iny, nor enecas lianging out their signals of distress and confusion. "Oh, please doi't talk so to me. Indeed I must got Mabel is waiting for the holly, and she-they won't like it if-" But she was a prisoner in his tight clasp. "If what? If they find you and me talking so conAdentially together?" "No I mean if I don't take the holly at once." Walter put his arm around her waist be fore she knew what he was doing. "irene, look up. You shall not go un til yon let me see in your eyes if you love me as well as I love you! Irene, my dear little girl, I do love you' very dearly!" She was silent for one second, and he saw the quiver of her red lips. Then' she rained her nead slowly, shyly. "You love me? Oh, Walter, what will they all cay? Don't you know it is Alabel you should say that to? I am niobody, and Alabel is an heiress." Walter had both arms around her by this time, andi was looking ardently in her glow i ng face. '"[ know Mabel is an heiress, and a nice little girl, and -I also knowv you arc a dar ling, my darling--and the only girl I ever asked to be my wife, or over saial ask! Say yes, petl" 11is tones were hew and tender, but tri umphant.r "And you catz deliberately give up so much, for only just me?" 11cr wondrous eyes met -his bravely now, and thrilled him with .the love light ill them. "Only'jumt'you, my~own darhingi Why, you are mioge than. all the world te me. Come; wQ wi I go tell Uncle Abian at once. Just one kiss first-you must!" And lie had more thanu one or two~before he led iier, blushing, with tears tremibling on her lashes, like dilamfonds of a gokden thread, to Uncle Abiah, who sat In his itbrary with Mrs. Cornella, lnd ustriously looking over a receipt book. They lookett up in surprise-as Walter marched in, Irene on his arm, a pictuire of conif~ion. *"If you please, Uncle Abiah, I want your blessiing and cordial consent to receive this little girl for your niece. I love her, andl she loves ime." Uncle Abiahi looked shrewdly over his glasses at Mrs. Cornelia. . "Well, sister. what shall we say to this youth's demnand?" A broad smile of perfect delight was on her mnery face. "Say? Why, tell them yes, and wel come; and let them know their Aunt Cor iielia isn't a fool If their Uncle Abiah is." Walter looked on astonished, and felt Irene's hand tremble on his arm. "What is it, dlear?" She smiled through her tears as she look. edl into his iquiring eyes. "Oh, Walter, I am afraid you will bd angry. I am Mabel after all, and-anid-' "And'you have made love to your cousin the heiress, in spite of yourself, my boy. So HIll'reat is a foregone fate-, after all, "Don't scold, please Walterl'' Mabel pleadled, in a low yoice, with her blue1 eyes looking into his. "As If I couldl scold you, my love! Since I have you, what need I care?" And Mrs. Cornella turned over the leaves of tihe receibt-book until Bile camne to 'wed ding~ take," and avers that she imaade the match herself. Proud hearts anid lofty maonutais are alwyays barren. We sihould do good to an enemy and mak h~m oui' friend. The heart 'ought to give charity, when the hand cannot. Pride that dinfas on vanity, sups on contomge The Squirrel a Bold Leaper.. One reason doubtless, why squirrels are so bold and reckless in leaping I bro ugh the trees Is that if they miss their hold the fa'l will not Ikurt then. Every spccis of tree-squirrel seems to be capable of a sort f rudimentary flying--at least of making itself into a parachute, so as to case or break a fall or a leap from a great height.. rho so-called flying-squirrel (oes this the most perfectly. It opens its furry vest ments, leaps into the air, and sails down the steep inchne from the top of one tree to the foot of the next as li htly as a bird. But. other squirrel know the ame trick, Duly their coat-skirts are not so broad. One day my dog treed a red squirrel in a tall hickory that stood in a meadow on the side of a stee) hill. To st. what the squirret would do when closely pressed, I linbed the tree. As I drew near he took refuge in the topmost.bratnch, and then, as [ come on, he boldly leaped into the air, spread himself out upon It, and, with a gulck, tremulous motion of his tail and legs, descended quite slowly and landed upon the ground thirty feet below me, ipparently none the worse for the leap, for he ran with great speed and escaped the log in another tree. - A recent American traveler in Mexico, gives a still more stfiking instance of this power of squirrels pattially to neutralize tise force of gravity when leaping or failing through the air. Some boys had caught a Mexican black squirrel nearly as large as a nat. It had escaped from them once, and, when pursued, had taken a leap of sixty [ect from the top of a pine tree (Iown upon he roof of a house without injury. This ,eat had led the grandmother of one of the joys to 1icelare that the squirrel was be wvitched, and the boys proposed to put the natter to further test by throwing the (iuirrel down a precipice six hundred feet sigh. Our traveler interfered, to see that ;he squirrel had fair play. The prisoner wvas conveyed in a pillow-lllp to the edge )f the cliff and the slip opened, so that he night have his choice whether to remain a aptive or to take the leap. He looked town the awful abyss and then back and sidewise-his eyes glistening, his form rouching. Seeing no escape in any other lirection, "Ihe took a flying leap into space tud fluttered rather than fell into the abyss Jelow. Hlis legs began to work like those )f a swinining poodle-dog, but quicker mud quicker, while his tail, slightly ele rated, spread out like a festher fan. A 'abbit of the same weight would have nade'the trip in about twelve seconds; the quirrel protracted it for more than half a ninute," and "landed on a ledge of lime stone, where we could see him plainly ;quat on his hind legs and smooth his 1ifled plumage, after which he made fur he creek with a liourish of his tail, toik a rood drink and scampered away into tb villow thicket." The story at first blush seems incredible, )ut I have no doubt our red squirrel would save made the lean. safAly: 1.hen whi, n-1 ae great 0m8K squirrei, since its parachute vould be proportionately large ? Tie tiils of the squirrels are broad and ong and flat, not short and smsall like hose of gophers, chipmunks, weasels, and )ther ground rodents, and when they leap >r fall through the air the tail isarcho and -apidly vibrates. A squirre!'s tail, there [ore, is something more than a llag; it not )nly aids im in flying, but it serves is a lok, which he wraps about hiin when he sleeps. Thus somne aniials put their tails tu various uses, while others seem to have ao use for them whatever. What use for ) tail has a wood-chuck, or a weasel, or a mnouse? Has not the mouse yet learned that it could get in Its hole sooner if it had io tail? The mole and the meadow-mouse save very short tails. Rats, no doubt, put their tails to various uses. The rabbit iss no use for a tail-it would be in its wiay; whle its manner of sheepinig is much that it does not need a tail to tuck tself up with, as do the 'coon and the fox. l'he dog talks with his tail; the tall of the 'possums is prehensile; the porcupine uses is tail in climbing and1( for defelse, the beaver as a tooi or trowel; while the tail of lhe skunk serves as a screens behind which t msks its terrible battery. Weodding Fashaions. 'Tie old. Amercenn fashioni of thme brides. masids, witl) attend~ant cavaliers, enstering thme s o anr or church arm in arm is entirely broken up, asnd the gentlemen usshers, whoe seat the conmpany ansd who manage the business of the weddimg ini the chsurchs, are comipelled to enter first, withosut the solae of a feiinie hand 0on the coat, sleeve. But this cha~nge is for the better. A bride-elect begins, sometimes three months before her weddnsig (lay, to invite her bridesaids, for there are dresses to be msade and gifts selected. Thels grooms chooses his best man and hsis ushers, of whom there sire genserally six. Tlhecse gentlemsen receive tronm him cravats andt scarf-pins, and the groom I requently gives eamch bridesmaid a Joek et. Th'le bride often gives tack of her bridesmaids, of whsom thmere asre also generally six, some1 small token of her rcgasrd ; but not, as formerly, her dIress. Bouiquets are always provideo by the bide for her bridesmaids. *'The church must be engaged for a fort. night, ahead, to avoid the gloomy catastro phe1 of meeting a funeral comning oust, which 'hias happened, and( whichs Is, of course, dhe pressing. T1hse clergymans and organist boils need( 1 ime0 to get. thsemiselves in ordler; and the fiosist who is to dlecorate the altar with fresh cut flowers and growIng plants, also needs time ; he ailso should have plenty of warning. Whens tihe happy day arrives, thme bead usher goes to the church an hour before the tinme, to see thsat a white cord is stretched across the aisle, reserving pews enough for tihe famIly ahd particular friends, and( to see, in fact, that all details are attendhed to. TIhme ghsors shsould 1)0 in attendlance early, to seat people In' convenient places, andl good nmnners ansd careful attentions, p~articularly to elderly people, masuke life. long triendls for these young gentlemneis am the wedd~inigs where theoy,oflleiate. When time brmide's mother arrives, the white cord Is dropped, and s~he is takens to uhe front seat, all tihe fandsly friends take thieir piaces near- her ini adljoining pews. '[hens the clergy come m anid take tior places at, theo sdtar, followed by tihe groom amid his best mail, Who haY6 .bceen'hafely guaor ded in time vestryrooms. 'Tho groons looks ,down the aisle to watch for hsis coming bride. Thie organ strIkes up tihe ,weddsng march' as the first couple of ushors are seen enteriflg time churchi door. They come in slowly, t~wo anrl twon followed by the bridesmaids, who bear bouquets of one color. Then the bride enters, leaning on her father's arin. A very pretty and beconing fashion Is for the bride to wear her veil over her face, throwing it back at the altar; but this Is a matter of taste. Tie ushers part comipany, going to the right and left, and remain standing on the lower step of the altar. The bridesmaids also move t.o the right and left, next the altar rail, leaving a space for the couple who are to be married. Tie bride is taken by the hand by the groom, who receiycs her from her father as she mounts the first step. The service then procecds, the organ playing very softly until the prayer, when the music stops, and all join in time familiar words. Then the blessing is given, the clergyman congratulates the bride, and the young people turn to leave the church, fol lowed by all the bridesnaids and ushers in reverse order. Alaids are in waiting In the vestibule to cloak the bride and her attendants as they conic out from this pageant into the cold and dangerous air. This is a great ex posure, and often leads to trouble; our churches all need larger vestibules. The bride and groom return to the house of the lormer, followed as quickly as possible by the bridesmaids, and stand to receive their friends under a floral bell, or a floral arch, Dr sone other pretty device. The brides. mnsids are ranged on either side, and the ushers (whose place is no sinecure) bring up the guests in order to -present to the liappy pair. The bride's inother, vacating [he place of hostess for tile nonce, stands it the other end of the room to talk to her friends, and to also receive their congratu lations. Of course her oivn family are illowed to kiss -the bride first. The bride remains at her post an hour tnd a half, then leaves the room to ascend tud dress far her bridal tour. She comes lown in the quiet dress fitted for traveling n this country (where the bright blue velvets anld shiny ailk5 which are used in England for bridal trips are not allowed, )robably owing to the fact that our railway rains are more public and less clean than hose of the British Isle), and bids her riends good-bye. Getting into the carriage, :odewed by the groom, the young piair- are Iriven off under a shower of rice and ilippers, which are thrown after them for uck. flow the Itusian Keeps Warm. The Russians have a great nak of mak ng their yinLer pleasant. You feel noth Ug of the cold in those tightly built ouses where all doors and windows are loubled, and where the rooms are kept wYarm by big stoves hidden in the walls. rhere is no damup in a Russian house, ind the inmates may dress indoors in the ightest of garbs, which contrast oddly with the mass of furs and wraps Which hey don when going out. A.lussian can eaves tle ho>use rI fo eg$osure whe'n he -overs his head and ears with a fur bonnet, us feet and legs with lelt.boots lined with Noo or fur, which are drawn- over the >rdinary boots and trousers, and reachm up ,o the knees;' he next cloaks himself in a .op coat with iur collar, lining aud culfs, me buries his hands in a par of lingerless fioves of seal or bear-skin, T'hus equipped, Lad with the collar of his coat raised ali Around so that it imlles him ilp to the eyes, the Russian espOes only his nose to me cold air; and he takes care frequently Lo give that organ a littie rub to keep tile circulation going. A stranger, who is apt to forget the precanution, would often get his nose fri zen if it were not for the cour tesy e1 the itussians, who will always warn him if they see his uose "whiLtening," and will, unuidden, h .p him to chafe it vigor ously with snow. In lusiAn cities walk tng is just po&Asble for ineu dating w inter out hardily so for ladies. ' ie wonmen o1 t e ,o.vez order wear kLee boots; those of the shiopiteeping cJlass suide~m venture out at all; thiose of the aritoracy go out in sleighs. ' ie - leighs aire by no necans picaSant, vehiicies "or n. rv'ous people, for tleelKalinuck coachunten drive tunm at such a teirulic pace tunI Lriey ireqitently capsize; lin persons not desitute oi pluick linmu their antiiion most enjoyale. 1t must be aunded' that to be spilled out of al ihsianx sleigh isI tantaimount only to getting a rough tumble out of a soit mattress, for Lue very thick furs in which the victiam is sure to be wraplped will be u:iougn to bm'ak the fam. 'Tne notes and ho~veiso ci ussian working etiasses are as wecll watrmed as 'those of the aristocracy. A sttve is aiwhmys the puin empal itemi of furniture in l.him, kud these eonveniencees are used to sleep on asm weli a5 coin .- ' ie mnujica, haiving no bed, curls uaiaself up on hius stove aL Is time 1om g(oing to rest. donj.etnnues lie iy be iound creeping right itnto ine stove and cin joying the dehinm of a vapor bank,. Wite Materials froma Townos. Nearly every farmer goes to the nearest village to trade, visit a mechanic, or obtain his letters and papers, at least once a week. lie often takes a load to market, but, he rarely brings one hiomec. ieo can, witu very little trouble, haul a loaid of material that may be obtained for not-hing, and wvhich will be of great benelit to his land. Mlost village people make nto use of the ashes produced ini their sieves or of the bones takeni fronm the meat, they consume. Searcely any brewer has any use for the hops that, have beeni boiled iii his vats, and tihe lauckSmiith hardly ever saves the cliip. pings he takes f rota the feet of horses. All these materiala maked( eixcellenit mi inure. A barrel of shamvings cut, from tihe hoofs of horses, cointains lncre ammliotuia than is coin tainedt in a load of stable manuire. Applied Lt) land without, prepalrationl, they ight give no Immediate r'esults,' but, they wouild beucomie secompjosed .in tiia, and1( croips of all kindsmvotuld derive benefit from them. They may lbe so treated that they would produtce immediate results. By covering them with Iresh horse manure they wiil d:-con pose vety raipidily. 'They may also lbe ieached~ in a barrel anad the water that covered them drawn off and applied to lants. W ater -in which pieces o1 horns anid hoofs have been soaked is ant excellent manure for plants that require forcing. It stuimulates the growth of -tomatoes, rose bushes, aiid house plants very rapidly, and emits no oftcosive odors. A vast, amotint of fertilizink material is wasted ia towns that farmers' could obtain the benefit of with very little trouble Our ideas, 11ke p'etures, we made tup of lights and shladowys. I1 Take a Gross. While the proprietor of the Malson Dorce, Now York,was standing behind the counter the other day, catching thes foi currant cake, and wishing that a little of the business wave that the Eastern paper say so much about would slop over into hi restaurant, as it were, a young man, with a beaming smile on his face and a big boi under his arm entered. "Don't want any sleeve-buttons, noi nothin'," growled the dyspepsia distributor, glancing at the box. "No, nor I," said the stranger, affably, depositing the box on the counter, and re moving the id. "But what you do want is the greatest invention of recorded time -the restaurant keeper's friend-the board ing house keeper's salvationl" "Roach poison?" said the steak stretcher contemptuously. "No, sir," retorted the young man, tak ing a handful of singularly-shaped objects out ofthe box. "Something that beats the phonograph and the telephone all hollow. I refer to the "Skidniore chopl" "What's that?" "Vhy, it's the most economical device of modern times, and I'll prove It right here. Suppose you are serving a dinner to say a dozen poisons? Now, how imany chops do Vou usually put on the table?" "Well, about two apiece. say twelve," -'And how many are eaten ?" "liui about four." "Exactly-that is about the average, as our restaurant statistics show. As a mat - ter of course, however, you are compelled to cook three times as nuch as you need th make a show. Now, if you could save six chops every dinner for a year it would amount to-" "A fortune," said the nan of cutlets ea gerly. "All we can do with 'em now is to wrk 'emt over into hashes." ''Peace to your hashes," said the agent; "all this ruinous waste is now prevented by the introduction of sonic dish of the patent Skidmoic Indestructible Rubber Chop, put up in packages of one dozen, and warranted for live years, ' and the teod economizer exhibited sonic life-like imitations of cooked mutton chops. "Looks like a grood scheme," said the conductor of stews, thoughtfully; "but don't the customer ever-" "Ever tumbie? Not in the least. He only notices that one chop is tougher than the other, ana finally get his fork in and chews ahead. The smaller ones come higher, as they are made of a little more limber article of rubber, for limb chops. Can't be told from the genuine by the naked eye. AM you have to (io is to grease 'em on both sides, warn 'emi up a little, and serve thiem mixed in with the others same as uRual." "Seems like they are about as tender as the regulation kind," said the restauranter, jabbing one with a fork. "Don't they ever get eaten by mistake?" "INo-no-that is, not now. We (lid lose a fnw t-a - - - s.. U8 iV t Oen.I 11,b m in. fn& i n,,wi... 8ift happen any more unless they will swallow them whole. Wily, here's a-speci me0n that's been in use in a Chicago eating saloon there for yeas, night and (lay, and you can't see tWe first tooth print in it yet." " 4 hat settles it," said the restauralter, I'll take a gross." "1 thought you would," said the chop agent, as he tookE Iowa the order and em phatically declined an invitation for some lunch. "I will drop around in a few days and show you samples of soei soft, white rub'jer lobsters we are getting up espec ially for the country trade-niake the best article of indestructible salad ever known," and lie shouldered his box and walked off in the direction of Baldwin's Hotel. Wasinmgton's isroakfast. "Is Mrs. Miller at home ?" "She is ; walk Iln." The modest little room into which (lhe visitor was usheredl containedl another occupanlt, an elderly lady, who was dohig seone washing, and whom the visitor took for no0 other than Mrs. Miller herself. " Is this Mrs. Miller ?" lie askedl. "Oh)I, n1o," sid the elderly lady. "Shde's upi stairs." "'Not sick I" said( thle visitor. "No, not what you would call sick. Sh's been aihn1 a goad bit the last few (lays. She's gettm' 01(d now." "Is it true that she *s a hundred and flye years 01(1 ?" Both ladies smiled. "'No,'' saidl the stout lady presently, "' that's a mistake. She's only a hundred andl four.'' "So oldl as thati" "Oh, yes; there's noe miistake about it. The record of her birth is ini her Bib~le. She was born in 1777. Th'le visitor was inivitedl up, and, entering a neat bed-room, saw an elderly lady sit ting up in bed, with a white capI on and waiting an introduction. In the course of the opening con versation the visitor remarked: " I've beeni told that you are a hundl~red and fiye years old. Ii it. so ?" "No,'' saidl the old1 lady, emlphlatically; "'it isn't true; I'm only a hunldredl and foui years old." " And It's been said thlat you met (Icorge WashlingtonI" "I cooked Washington's breakfast for him once," saidt the old lady, unconcerned ly, " andi after that, 1 pult bread andi butter in htis satchel and he left our house and went off to fight arnd gained the day." '' Th'lis is true," said the other ol(l ladly, nlodduing; "she has told us that mimy a time." "Yes," went oin Mrsi. Miller ; " I never slroll forget that time I got him his break famst. I got hiim such a nice breakfast, pie, dIriedl beef and things like thlat, and( whenl lie came to the table the poor 01(d soul couldn't eat anything hut bread and butter. ie salid It would maitke him sick. I never shall forget thlat time." " Tell about the prayin' m the thorn hush as you've told us mnany a time," saidl 0110 of the oilier women. ''011," said the old lady, 4' I'll never forget that eithler. We hieardl him prayin' first thing in the 1mo0 ning an' didnll't know what It was. And old1 Daddy Ilines, the man that I lived with, said( ho would ge out and see whlat it was, amid lie went, out andi there he saw Washingbmn kneoling (Iowa behind a thorn buish near the stable, and witht his Bible open before him a. prayip-."5' '/D1addy ines waited till lie was llouigh prayin', then lhe Invited hinm lntc thb.plouse. And whoa he went away fron our 1ouse lie gained the day." "I ut tell what happened when lhe came into he house I" "wby, when ho came in," saId the old lady, "Daddy lines asked in, 'Why didn't you come in the house and stay all night.?' he said. And Washington said: ' Oh, well, I was so tired I just went into the barn last night and I fell (own on a pile of hay, and I haven't slept so good for months as I slept there.' " " Then what did he do ?" asked the first old lady. " Then," said the former acquaintance of Washington, "he sat down to breakfast, but the poor old soul couldn't eat anything but bread and butter, for fear of it making him sick and keepin' him from gainin' the day. Alter breakfast I packed lils satchel. 1 got pies an' dried beef in it an' he nade me take 'em out. le said: 'Oh, my dear child, I duren't eat anything like that; It would make me sick. I can only eat bread and butter. So I had to take them all out and put in bread and butter. I felt so sorry for the poor old soul that he couldn't cat anything else. After that lie cante in toward Philadelphia, where his soldiers were on a high hill. "And did you eve- see him after that ?" "No, but I attended his mock. funeral at Pottstown when he died. It was a grand funeral." " What hilt was it where hils men could shoot down so nice ?" asked the first old lady. 'The hill," said the second old lady, where lie gained the dlay." All t'urther qudstioniug failed to elicit the fact of the location of the lill, the old lady's invariable answer and tier nearest clue to it being always the same-" the pilace wliere he gained the day." Upon further conversation it was also learned that she had two venerable pictures, one of Washington, and one of his wife, in the form of prints, which had been taken shortly after the revolutionary war. These pictures the old lady stated she had given to her physician, Dr. Evans, of Seventeenth and Pine streets, who had expressed some admiration for theni. "It you go to Dr. Evans, he'll sh:>w themn to you," said the second old lady. A visit was then made to Dr. Evaus. On the walls of hIs ouilee hung the identical prints with Washington in snowy cravat and powdered hair ai.d his wife with high Elizabethan collar and a stately bodice the old cracked frames showing that the plctureR belonged to no preseut age. The doctor's account ot Mrs. Miller was that lie had known her for five years and that within the last few months her mnic ory had been falling. " 'lhere can be no doubt," said lie, " but 104 years is her right age and that she has sefo Washington. I have seen the record of her birth in her Bible. Bhe was born in 1777. She haia been married twice, both husbands and her first child being dead. But her second child is upwards of 70 years old. She was born in Essex township, Berks county." The old lady's unusual ago is evidently a matter of secondary importance to her. A few months ago, heri r Snot iceing well. Ktnowmng itat sie was addicted to taking snuff the doctor jokingly reiarked. " See here cld lady, the trouble with yt u is that you use too much snuif. You ought to break yourself of that habit, for it, may cause your death one of these days." "No, (IOctor," said t(he old lady ; shaking her head, "it, isn't the snutf. When I was a little girl they miade ine work hard on the farm, toad oi ity and grain in harvest time, and it's that that's breakin' in downk at 1,his age." Deti - 4ta Ire -The boys were situng around in Vic. Muller's saloon, Carion City, talking about hard times, and of course their conversa Lion drifted into the stock narket, and the reporter untied his cars and took notes. 'Don't talk to ic about stocks,' said a little red-headed man. 'If a man was to give ine a point in the d- strap gamie I'd lit him right in the niose. I've sworn off.' '1I hat's the business,' said another i ap p~rovlngly. 'Ever sinice I came to this country,' said the first, speaaer, 'I've Deen buck ia' at the gamne right along, losan' ali the while. Btock dealIn' is the slickest cotubination ever cooked lip to rake a muan's pocket. liighway robbery's not, a circumstanuce. If I was to go down into Sierra Nevada and ae a cfoss-cut 20)0 feet long runnin' slap bang Into a solid body of goldt 9991 tbie, and when 1 come out if ia 11nan was to offer me a thousand shares for my old hant here, bust me wide open if I wvouldn't belt him on thme head with a brick aiid freeze to the lint. If 1 ever get taken in againm it's my fault.' Th'le red-headled mani wvalked ofl', leaving the crowd much upressed, and at the street. corner lie overheard a imiin say to another: 'She's a buy; you bet your boots shie's a buy.' 'Whbat's that ?' said the bear, pricking up lisa ears. 'I was just sayin' that Sierra Nevada wvas a buy.' 'Really thInk sol' 'Thie boys are takIng In all the stock they can get onm Pine street.' 'You don't, say so 1' 'Fair'sgot the control of thme tunnel I' lihe devil I' 'Mackay's conic back from Eu~aropo,' 'holy Moses I' 'Thecy've ruin a dliamond~ dIri Iito the two thiousand, and she's richer'n hot, iiush. Thle true business rolled in sand. Tmis Is (lead sqluare 'I lie red-hecaded mian heard no more, but inside of fifteen mnites lhe was in a law yer's ollIce getting hibn to fIx thme papersCt for a mortgage on Ihis house so that he could take a thousanid shares on a margin before the next boardl. ChIoc,,i., f c. For those who wvishm to keep ihe hnaginia tiomi fresh and vIgorous, ehocolate Is the beverage of beverages. However copuiously you have lunched, a cuD of chmocolate imi mediately afterward will produce dIgestion three hours after, aiid prepare the way for a goodt diner It Is recommned to every one who decvotes to braln-work theo hours he should pass in bed; to every wit who fInds lie has become sudIdenily dull, to all who finds the aIr dampni, the tiime long, and~ the atmosphere insupportable; and, above all, to those who, tormented with a fIxed Idlea, have lost their freed'm of .thought. To makeo chocolate (It must, never be cut with a knilfe) an ounco and a half Is re qisite for a cup. Dissolve it gradually in hot water, stirrimg it the while with a wooden spoon; let It boil for a 'juarter of an hour,and szrve it hot with mIlk or with out, acrding totiarc. FOOD FOR THOUGHT. True courage In unassuming; true piety, serious and humble. Earnestness 01 purpose can spring only from strong convictions. The way of the world is, to make laws, but follow customs. To get rid of a bad friend, ask him for what you most need. Reason Is the test of ridicule-not ridicule the test of truth. There is a limit ab which forbear ance ceases to be a virtue. Our actions are our own; their con sequences belong to Heaven. Kindness is the golden chain by which society 1s bound together. Circumstances do not make a man half so often as a clean shirt. When Is a man obliged to keep his word ? When no one will take it. People who converse at the top of their voices are not hig.d toned. Trout should never be base ball play ers. Too many go out on the fly. Avoid the slanderer as yo'l would a wasp.g There is poison in his tale. Strychnine will cure longevity, but the remedy i8 worse than the disease. Traits of character which you seek to conceal you had better seck to reform. Never judge by appearance. A see dy coat may cover a heart In full bloom. The gout may said to be a beacon on the rocic of luxury to warn us against It. That laughter costs too much which is purchased by the sacrifice of decen cy. Pedantry consists in the use of words unsuitable to the time, place and com. pany. In virtue and in health we love to be instructed as well as physicketd with pleasure. A manI'd gooa brooding is the bast security against other people's ill man oiers. LfAe, like the water of the sea fresh ens Only when it ascends towards lia Veil. Hlope is a leaf of joy, whieh may be beaten out to a great extension, like rold. It is better to improve by other people's errors than to tfnd fault with them. Ail things are admired either because they atre new, or because they are Genius of the highest kind imies an unusual intensity of the modifying po wer. liumihlity is of all graces the chiefest when 1IL dosn't know itself to be a grace iat all, In order to look spruce is not cessary that you slm."a -. ~SLudy books 60 K1Iu, iuw, tnings oughtto be; study min to know how things are, Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other. The road to ruin is always kept in good order, and those who travel it pay the expenses. 1hole years of joy glide unperceived away while sorrow counts the minutes as they pass. Many a youth has ruined himself by forgeting h is identity and trying to 14e somebody else. The whisper of a beautiful woman can be heard further than the loudest. yell of duty, Thera Ia very little use in making to day cloudy because to morrow is like ly to be SLOrmy. In memory's mnellowed light we be held not the thorns: we see only the beautiful flowers. A man that keeps riches and enjoys them niot, is like an ass that carries go:d and eats thistles. The sublimity of' wisdom Is to do these things living which are deslired to be when dying. It is no vanity for a man to pride himself on what lhe has honestly got and prudently uses. Let him who regrets the loss of tIme miake proper use of that which is to come in the future. Ideas generate ideas; like a potato, which, LIut in iices5, reproduces Itself' in a multiplied form. When a man speaks the truth you may counit pretty surely that he posses. ses most other virtues. 15ecasure, like qicksilver, Is bright anid sky. if we strive to grasp it It still eludes us and still gltters, Thiat best portion of a good man's life-is little, niamneless unre mer.. oered aets of kindness and of love. If you wvon't listen to reason when you are young you will get Your knuckles rapped when you are old. In the quiet of the early morning we ihould laden our hearts with kindness ad good wvill, for use during the day To endeavor to work upon the vul ~ar with line sense is like-attempt!ng to how blocks of marble with a razor. IDo that which is right. The respect of mankind ffi11 follow; or, if it do nout, you will be a ble to do without it. "Thetobook to read," says Dr. Mc Cosh, "Is not the one which thinks for you, but the one which makes you in k." Most'historians take pleasure is put. -ang in the mouths of princes what thneyhavo neither said nor ought to 'tave sai. if you would be known and not <now, vegetate In a yvillage; if you vouild know and not be known, live in m city. lleaven's gates are wide enough to radmiit every sinner in tihe un yerge waoe is pceattent, but too nari-ow to ad nit a single sins. A physIcian uses various meothods ~or tne recovery of sioc persons e. anu hioiru all of them are disamgreeable,his jauen..s are neover angry. No man, for any considera~ble period an wear one face to him self arnd an other to the multitude without flaiy getting bewildered as to which may be true. 1t is true in matter 01 estates as of our garments, not that which is lar( ost, but that which fira us best, Is best for us. Be content with subh thingq as ye have,.