Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., JUNE 21, 1881. ESTABLISHED 1865. SATURDAY EVENING. The wook is past, tho Sabbath dawn comes on, lest-rost in poaco-thy toil is done I And standing as thou standest, on the brink Of a now scont of being calmly think Of what its gono, is now, and soon shall bo, As one that trembles in etornity. For such as this now olosing woek is past, - Ho muoh advanoing time will close my last, Huoh as to-morrow shall the awful light Of the eternal morn hall my sight. Spirit of good I on this week's vor4o I stand, Tracing the guiding influence of thy hand, That hand winch loads me gontly, calmly still, UIp life's dark, stony tiresome, thorny hill, Thou, thou, in overy storm haist sheltored me, 13onoath t1he wing of thy benignity -; A thousand graves my footsteps circuit vent, And I exist-thy mercy's monument ; A thousand writhe upon the b d of pain, I live,.and plea-uro flows through every vein, Want o'er a thousand wretches waves her hand I onoircled by ton thousand mercies stand. Ilow can T praiso th<-o, Fathor ? how express My debt of vovoron and thankfulness ? A debt that no intelligence can count, While overy moment swells the vast amount, For a wook's duties thou hast givon me strength And brought me to its peaceful otose at length, And hero my grateful bosom fain would raise A fresh motorial to thy glorious praiso, Weary of ife. Midnight was past, and the lights of the vessels lying at anchor in the streau were beginning to be extinguished, wheii two men hurried from different directions to wards the shore. hiie older of the two had already renehod the straii, and was preparing to make a leap, the design of which was not to be mistaken ; but at that instant the younger me seized hii by the arm exclaiming, "Sir. I believe you want to drown your selr !" "You have guessed it. What is that to yout" This was the answer spoken in the most angry tone. "Nothing, 1 know. I would simply re quest you to wait a couple of minutes wlhen, if you like, we will make thd jour uicy together, arim in arm- the best way of dying." With these words, the younger extend ed his hand to the elder, whose was not witheld. The younger continued in a tone of seem ing enthusiasm: "So be it I Arm in arm! Truly. I did not dream that a human heart would beat with mine in this last hour. I will not seek to know who you are-ah honest man or a villain. Come ?-let us be gin the journey togetherl " \,The eider man held the young man back, -l iug-hs ilmrhalf4xtinguished . eyes Rrchli)gly upon the countenance of his companion, exclaimed: "Hold I You seem to me to be too young to end your life by suicide. A man of your years has still a brilliant, alluring future in his grasp." "What have I to hope in the midst of a world that is full of wickedness, falsehood, treachery and unhappiness? Come I quick I" "You are still young. You must have had very. sorrowful experiences to make life already thus iusupportable to you." "I despise mankid." 'Without exception ?" "Without exception." "Well, then, you have now, perhaps, found a man whom you will, necessarily despise. I have, believe me during my whole life, lived an honorabe man." aItelyh I hat is highly interesting. It's a pty ha ho ealie mae yuracquaint ance." "Leavecime to (lie alone, young man. Live oii Believe me, time heals all wounds, andl [here are men of honor yet to be found." "Now, if you take [his view, why are you hurrying so fast from the world!" saidl the young main. "Ohi, I'm an old1 sickly man, unable to make a livchiood ; a mian wvho cainnot, wvili not see is onily child, lis (laughter, blight ing her youth and laboring night and (lay to support hin." Now, sir, have you a dlalghiter whlo (does this for you ?" asked the young man, suir pised. '"Aid with what cud'iraince, with what love, dtoes she sacrifice herself for me ! She hias always the tend~erest words of love--a sweetsmnile for me." *And you want, to conmmit suicide? are you imiad!" "Shall I murder my (daughter ? Theli life which she is now leading is her certain dea~ith,'1 ai~swered the old man,in a despair lng voice. "Cood sir, comeI with me to thme nearest inn that Is yet Open, and let us dIrink a bot t.le of wine together. You willi relate to me your history, and, if you like, I will .let you hear imine. 8o nimch, however, wvill I say to you beforehiand ; chase all thoughts of self-murder out, of your head, I am rich, and, If things be as you say, from hence forth you andl your daughter shall lead a leasanut life." Th'le old man followed the younger with out oppositmion. A few minutes later, over full glasses, the elder began; "My history is soon1 [to(d. 1 was a muer chant's clerk, but always unlucky. As1 had nothing b~y inheritaitce, and the young girl I married was poor, I was never able to coinice buisiness on my own account, aiid remained to an 01(d age in a deiptbnd ent tsubordilnate position. FInally, I[ was dicagdon accomliit of my years, andi then began) a struggle 'for a subsisitcnce. My wile died of trouble, aind now may pooir. child is wearied to gain my suppoft. I can niot bear to e her woi king hierselt'to (leath for ime-therefore it ia better I go. Now yuknow all." "FriendI," exclaimedh the young ilan, "youi are thme most fortunate mian I ever enlcoymntered in my life, It is insane to tall that misfortunie. Nobody is easieor to help than you. To moi-row I will make my will, aind you shall be- n6 resistancol miny heir. Th'le comning night, is my last. Be fore this, however, I must, see your daugh ter, 'oat, of pure curiosity. I woulillioi' OliCe ace how one looks who really dcece'vcs thm'o name of woman." "But, young man, what can It be that tins early has made you so unhappy I" quesionedh the elder, much movede "1 believe it, was the wealth which my father left me. I was the only son of the richest banker of this city, My itber died tbthe nnhfr five years since, leaving me more than was good for me. Simce that time I have been ddceived and betrayed by every one, with out exception, with whom I ever had any connection. 'Some have pretended friend ship for . me-on accouilt of my money. Others have pretended to love pe--again for my money; and It went on.- I often mingled in the garb of a simple worknani, with the masses, and thus one day became acquainted with a charming being, a young girl, to whom my whole heart soon went out in love. .1 disclosed to her neither my name nor my position. I longed to be loved for myself alone,aud for a time it ap peared as if I was going to be happy-at last I The young girl and I, whom she still regarded as a simple workman, met every afternoon in the Marcusplatz, where we walked up and down together, passing many lrppy hours. One day my dear girl appeared with red eyes-she had been weeping-and told me We.imist part; con fessing that her life belonged to another I With these words ahe tote herself from me and disappeared In the crowd. Her faith lessness decided my destiny. Vainly did I rush into the pleasures which so called 'good society' has to offer, but found my lost peace of soul never, nevr l I then de termined to bring my joyless existence to a close. "Unhappy young man," said the elder wipling his eyes;, from my whole heart I pity you. I must acknowledge that I was more fortunate than you; for I at least was by two woien-*-iny wife and daughter tenderly loved." - "Will you give me your address, good sir, that I may convince mysetf of the truth of your story ? It is not exactly mis tLust, but I must see to believe. To-inor row I will arrange my affairs as I have al ready told you You will remain at this inn to-night, and in the morning I will return. Give me your word of honor that yoi will not Icave this house until I come back, and that you will not, in the nicantie speak to any one of what has taken place between u1s.11 "You have my word. (o o my dwell ing, to my daughter, and you Will find that I have told you but the simple truth. My natme is Wilhelm Salm. Here is my ad dress." With these'words lie handed the young man a paper, giving the address of his house. It lay im a suburb inhabited by the poorer classes, at some distance from the city proper. "And my name Is Carl Teodor," here upon said the young man. '.'Take this bank note; it will serve till my return."' Carl rang for the waiter, had the land lo d called, commended the old man'to his care In sutable terms and left the house. ilardly had the morning broke, when Carl found himself on the way.to the an burl) where lived the daughter of the old man with whom he had become acquainted under such peculiar circumstances. 1t was a poor place. The young man knocked opened the door, and iavoluntarily stepped back. What did lie see I The yonug girl whose inconstancy had made his life a burden unbearable, stood before him I She had grown pale-very pale; but he knew her at first glance; it was Bertha, whoim he had once hoped to call his own I At his appearance, the young girl sprang toward him, ov'rcoie with joy' holding out her little hand. The young man waved her -back, exc:ainiing. You did not ex pect to see me?" The poor girl sank into' her seat, and covered her pale, beautiful countenance with her pale hands. "Are you Wilhelm Balms's daughter?" asked the young man coldly after a pause. "I am," answered the maiden timidly. "And who, and where Is that other, to whom, as you told me at parting, your life belongcui" "That other is my father,'' answered the young girl, looking up to the young main with a glance in which spoke the tenderest of love. With lightning quickniess the truth dawned upon him, the scales fell from his eyes. Speechlessly lie rushed to Biertha, took her ini his arms, and pressed her to lisi "rCome to your father I" lie faltered. "My fathber I Uh, heaven I I forgot ; where is lie i e has been out al'l night. 1 have watched for him in tears the long night through." "Your father is savedl. lHe is with mc,' was Carl's aniswcr,as he hiurried the young girl out, and through the streets to the arms of her faither. A fortnight latir, in the midst, of .lhe greatest splend~or, the miarriage of the rich young baniker, Carl Teo'dor, to iUcrthls Salms, took nice. Imapurities In Ice. The p)opulhar djelusion that water ini thc process of freezing somehow eliminatet any ipurity It may contain, or that the vitality of animal or vegetable germs is de stroyedi by the cold, Is now very g'mecrally explode.dl. An American naturalist hat been microscopically examining fragnmnts of Ice takeni from various canals an(l hpondls. lie took only such specimens as ap~peared clean and wero quite transparent to the eye. On'melting them and subject ing them to magnifying powers, 'varyinp up to nine hundred dianmeters, lie says that vegetable tissue and confeivoid growthi were In mois~t cases observabhe-at once; 'ik found no instance ini which animalculu were presen't, in an active slate after feed ing, but after being allowed to stand for a while In a moderate tempilerature, th( water prpsentedh monlads whose movementi were easily distinguished with a mlaginify. lng power of from two hundred to fomn hiundred diameters. After a \vbile confer vme were observed growing andl taking fornr sunilAir to the nest's occupied'by the young of the Paranmeclum, comihion In stagnant wvater. Thei result of the observations~ bi to prove beyond , necstioni that fa'eezing (lees noit In any way1 Iininate Impurity o1 prevent th~e subsequent 'development ol anImal or vegetable germis. Inhs Is merely a confirmation of whia has alre-ady been asserted and proved 'be fore, but the iiatter is of such importatic t~bat It, is Iit4kly to be urged with un beseedpr'eTileiy. Many persons whi 'will look ask1nd at aglass of uinflitere< water will not hesat tp to cool their drinl by dropping a nob.of ice lntqit. Thd from ponds an dinals is, of co~,osteid Aibly gathebred fomnoi-dletette pilross; bu It is to be feared that in. hot weather Ice ~ .Ice, and 4pt much risk of mischief - i1ncu'AiI - a . .. . No Harry In This Case. lie had his hit .in dune -hand and hise handkerchief in the other as he sat down squarely in front of a ginger ale fount. in a Jefferson avenue drug store, Detroit. One would have said lie was about to. melt, but he wasn't the.sort of man jo be boxed ap In a hot day by any imprrdent action of his own. le fanned with one hand and miopped with the other, and finally in quired. "Is this root beer?" "No, sir, this is ginger ale?" "Ten cents per glass?" "No, sir, it is five." * "Cold?"' "Oh, yes." "Made of ginger?" "Certainly." "Well, I suppose I might try Rome. Is it healthy or unhealthy?" "It is said to be very healthy." "What organs does It seem to act on?" "Well, I couldn't say." " That's unfortunate. How do you know it wouldn't aggravate my lung trouble, or help along my liver complaint? Have you certificates fromi any.one it has helped or injured?" "No, sir." "That's unlicky." "Will you have some?" "Well, what do you think? Will it be perfectly safe?" "I think so." "Then I might try it. You needn't draw but two cents' worth, considering the circumstauces. "1-that is--we sell it for flye cents per glass." "Very wll-I won't take any. Have you any clear, cold water?" "Yes." "Thanks. Sorry to put you to any trouble, but I fell through a hatchwoy once by not making Inquiries in time. That's a fair article of water-very fair. Have you the linalysis?" "No, air.' "That's too bad. If you get it please lay it aside until I drop in. As to that ginger ale-let's see. To-day is Friday. I may pass here about next Thlirsday, aid if I do 1 suppose you will still have it on 'draught?" "Yes, sir." "And the price will be the same." "Yes." "Very well. I have no doubt It is a re freshing drink, and fully up to your guar antee, but there is no particular hurry in this case-not the least. I shall b- in the city off and on about once a week all sum mer, and any time before cold weather will do. So long to you." A Romance of Egtypt and France. An extraornary case will be tried before the civil tribunal at Paris, in which, per haps, sensation authors will be able to find material for novels. The plaintiff's case takes us back to 1842, when a young natu ralist and antiquarian, Henri Husson, was hi the service of the Viceroy, who sent him far up the NKie on an expedition. In lils tour Hus.on purchased a Nubian' airl named Zagfrauna in the slave market. She gave birth, when she went back to Cairo, to a son named after him', and reg istered as her child; but the following year the master grew tired of lis acquisition and abandoned her to marry a rich mer chant's daughter, Henrietta lchneckei berger. This lady conceived a love for the child and brought him up most tender Iy. When she left Egypt, in 1845. with her husband, she brought the boy with her. The year followliig, lnsson and his wife settled at Nancy, ' There they caused their marriage cor itidste to be transcribed to the registry at the mayoralty. To the birth certificate of the youthful Henri they added the words, "Legitimated and recog nized son of the spouses lusson." Madam lusson became a widow in 1855, and that year miarriedI 1enri, as .her off sp'ring, to a young lady of good family, MIle. Estelle Clement. Meanwhile the true mother was lamenting at.Cairo for the ioss .of her son. whom she resolved to recove''. She for twenty years set this design before her, andI in 1804 waa rich enongh to get, to France. 'hicre she found that her boy had been married, and was dead- Zagfrauna returned to Cairo, and ap~plieJi to the tribu nal to have the recognition aid legitimuiza tion of lHenri annulled. She wanted to have the satisfaction of proclahning herself lisa trute mother. The court waa incomnpe tent. She then, notwit hstandi~iu r ont poverty, ea~me back to Francc, and institu tedl a suit at Nancy against Madam Hlusson, the putative mother and gained it. Thle object of Madam .Estelle Ilusson, the plain tiff im the case coming on for trial, is t~o recover damages from her supposed mother in law, for the loss her fraud had caused her. This fraud consisted in p~assig off as her own Zagfrauna's sou, the heirshiip of the latter to thu elder Hlusson's property falling to the ground after the true parent. age was established. Madame Estelle Ilusson has been deprived of the fortune wvhich camne to her through himn. A New Rload oar. A nir road car, will snorthy begin run ning on varniotis routes In dIfferent parts of London. 'Thi.chief difference between the 01(d and the new'. vehicles is that the latter are principally s'apported on the two large wheels, which arrngement not only gives greater facility In runiil, but by means of the cran k axle als'o brhhga th'e cat' much nearer the groundl, passaengey~s being thus able to step easily from the pai'Cmenlt on to the platform in front, which isMo higher than an ordinary curbstone. An addIl, nat, andi perhaps a more acceptable adlvan -ge uained in adopting this principle, is tI 'it, however rough the ground- or ho 71 ever the load may be dsrbt the car glIdes forward with an undulating, easy motion, most en joyable compared with the rather "rough and tumble" jolting of the old omnibus. The two small wheels In front act rather as a foundation for the driver's seat thtan as an adoiitional support to the car. This new arrangement affords facilities for rapidly turninig and changing the vehIcle's course in crowded thoroughfares, and also enables the driver to have propeor command of his horses, to be free froim interference from passengers, and also to be0 in close corn munication with the cond~uctor,who stands on the platform in front, where, In con trast to the o1(1 style, is the door. A cor respondent who saw, and traveled in omg or the newv vehicles, was much pleased with Its comfolst,roominess,and brightness, ~and especially th6 nqfel arrangement of the seats on the top; the "knife hoard" be Sing abolished for a double row of com. fortable garden chairs, so placed as to alfow of everything one sittIng with his or her fece to the horses Troublesome Invenitionsi "It Is very well to talk about working for the heathen." said one, as the ladies of the Brooklyn circle put aside their sowing, "but i'd like to have some one tell me what I'm to do with my husband." "What's the matter with hi T'' asked a sympathetic old lady. "Wilham is a good man," continued the first, waving her glasses In an argumenta tive way, "but William will invent. le goes inventing round . from morning till night, and I have no peace or comfort. I didn't object when he Invented a fire es cape, but I did remonstrate when lie wanted ine to crawl out the window one night last winter to see if It worked well. Then lie originated a lock for the door, that wouldn't open from midnight until the morning, so as to keep burglars out. The first time he tried it he caught his coat tall in it, and I had to walk around him with a pan.of hot coals all night to keep him from freezing." "Why didn't lie take his coat off ?' "1 wanted him to, but he stood around till the thing opened itself trying to Invent sonic way of unfastening it. A little while ago lie got up a cabinet bedstead that would shut and open without handling. It went by clockwork. William got into it, and up it went. Bless your heart, he stayed in - there from Saturday afternoon until Sunday evening, when it flew opeu and disclosed William with the plans and specifications of a patent wash bowl that would tip over when it got just so full. The result of that was I lost all my rings and a breast-pin down the waste pipe. Then lie got - up a crutch for a man that could also be used as an opera glass. When ever the man leaned on it, up it shut. and when he put It to his eye to find William it flew out into a crutch and almost broke the top of hil'head off. "Don't 'my of his Inventions amount to anything ?" "He says they do. . Once he imventcd a rope-ladder to be worn as a guard chain and lengthened out with a spring. le put it around his neck, but the spring got loose and turned it into a ladder and almost choked him to death. - Then lie Invented a patent boot-heel to crack nuts with, but he mashed his thumb with it and gave it up. His coal scuttle has made more trouble than anythiig else. It was riveted to the grate, .and when the fire got low it would turn over and pour on coal. The rivets got rusty so he couldilt get it off, and I just sit up in bed and listen to that scuttle ,-l night. - Then lje arran cd a corn popper so it would wiggle itgelf, and now lie can't stop it. You can hear that popper going around in the closet, and lie won't let nie thrbw it away because lie wants to invent something to hold it still. Why lie has got a washtub full of inventions. One of them is a prayer book that always opens at the right place. We tiled It one morning at church, but the wheels and springs made such a row. that the sexton took William out by-the collar and told lilnm to leave his fire engines home when he caie to worship. The other day I saw hhm go ing up the street with the model of a grain elevatcr sticking out of his hip pocketand he Is fixing up an imlproved shot tower in our bed-room. "Does he make any money out of his in ventions ?" "le doesn't appear to. The other night a man caie down and wanted William to gel up a patent umbrella fastening. Since then lie has wrecked all the umbrells and parasols in the house. We haven't a thing to use if it should rain. Nowhe's at work on a combined cat and rat trap. The cat and rats go in at ;different ends and eat each other up-at least, lie says they will; and after that lie is going at a pair of pantaloons, in which a man can fall down without spraining his leg. William means well, but lie's got that mania for Inventing, aind I dion't knowv where It will end." A tsite for a Itural Life. The most important and~ most difficult, part, of the establishment, of a rural honme is the selectioii of a site. A home ought nevcr to stand on the top) of a hill,althiough It is specially (desirable to secure a broad landscape view, In ascending a lull, just go far enough to make the hill a vantage groumnd, b~ut leaving the highersiopee above you to cut. off the wind and storms. 'This,' saidl a fritmi, 'is sup~erb. Why (did you not set your house lhere?' We stood on a light point overlooking the whole spread of a fine valley, with villages at our feet. I replied: "This is a fine place t'visit, but not to live uponi." Thme winuds sweep it. andl it, hams like all hilltops, a sense of Isola tioii. If possible, get juist far enough up to retain the neigl'borly feeling-a sensa tion of rest and peace. The hillside look ing over tihe flat meadlows, with their cat tIe, not too far from other huomes, with tihe protecting lill behind,glves what you above all require-peace. The next point, to look out for is the va riety of outlook. The scenery should not present itself all at once, in a single graiid stretch, but opeii in new variations as you move about 3 our huomer t :ad. This depends somewhat upon judiclous. pl~ntings, but equally upcn natural slopes and swales. A vairiegated( landscape depends upon a vare. gated surface for your home lot. Too' nmuchm stress cannot be laid on thIs point. Thie finest landscape In the world will grow dlull without variety. Oilier things beiig equal, thu., first level or landing place on a hillside is best, as it gives us control of tihe outlook. No onue can builld below us In sumch a way as to cut off the prospect. A large proportion of country houses are at, -the mercy of those who build Iater. A group of trees, or a tarin, or the house itself, is set directly in tii line of visIon of a bit of fine woodland or uter. TIo select a site that no one can mar i~ absolutely essential to your future comfor~ To thio u who buid on hillsides it nmay seem unim ortant to urge the conaldlera tion of hecalt 'iulness of location, but it is by no mneanAx a suiperhlucais suggestion. There Is mnore tl man usual need of looking out for the diratgage of neighbors' barns and sewage tht cotpes from above you. I found a reserveir og vat~er fed by (drains was thus poisoned by ~i n ighubor's kitchen dirainage, not less than j\00 rods away. The clay subsoil was full of gmnall streams that connected our ditches. ft is equally im portant to avoidI glensides Iwhero the quiet atmuosphere often allows tihic miasma of the marshy spots to accumnia4 e. Ill health in the country. dliphutheria ~on hillsides, Is often due to these umnno cod causes. 1t must also be born in mui d that our clay hills tfre very retentive fmoisture and need thorough drainage. In central New. York ague Is vety rare, but the only case I know of for the past ton years occurred on a steep hillside from local causes. For an outlook there Is Vast preference for the morning sun. If possible, secure a southeast exposure, open to the full sun. slune and sheltered from west and north west witid. I can point out a village that Iip one week In advance in spring of a vil lage lying ten miles to the north, and of another lying ten miles to the south. The advantage in autumn is not always equally great. I have frequently a season six weeks longer than my neighbors one mile to the west above me and below me the same distance in the valley. This advan tage is one of no small moment, especially when your whole grape crop, or even at limes your corn, is dependent upon it. Two years ago I perfectly ripened Isabellas, Dianas and Goethes, while oven Concords were a failure a few miles away in all di rections. To escape one frost is often the key to a successful year. The mornieg sun is also most delightful and conducive to health. A point of great importence to lovers of fine scenery is the "landscape of the sky," In selecting a home we should place few things ahead of the possibility of enjoying the line sunrise, or, if not, sunsets; If pos sible, both. There is no tie to quicken the pulse and feed the soul like early niorn ing. The genuine lover of nature is an early riser. le likes to be alone with the world. A northern exposure is not onily to be avoided because of its dampness and chilli ness, but becautd it Is not a bright morning outlook. A western exposure is windy and overhot of a sununer afternoon; but it may compensate with superb sunsets. On the whole, give us a southeast outlook and a morning call from the Day King. The soil is not the least impoi taut con sideration In selecting your house lot. All other things being favorable, cold,wet soil, is a serious drawback. On a hillside, drainage, however, may generally obviate the difliculty. For fruit a stout clay is preferable to sandy soil, as the trees,grow ug more slowly, do not crack. For pears and grapes and cherries especially a loose clay is the best soil. These are the simple first principles of selecting a cuntry home. Most of the points indicated can be in every case con sidered, although it Is seldom that we can avoid all drawbacks or secure every ad vantage. The vast majority of pretty cot tages or capacious farm-houses needlessly lack advantages that by a little foresight might have been secured. All about a Morso. Once In a lifetime you will meet a man who will admit that lie doesn't know all about a horse, but lie may come around next (lay and claim to have beCen temporari. ly insane when lie made the admission. As a rule, every man knows exactly what ails a horse, whether anything ails him or not, and can point out a dozen Instances where nature could have improved on her work, no matter how well she did It. " Pity such a nice animal as that is foundered." " Yes, and I can see that lie is wind-bro ken to boot," was the ready response. Then the cashier of a bank halted and took a look at the horse's teeth. le was going away wlien a mail carrier asked: " How old do you call him?" . "'Mome mien might buy him for twelve, but they can't fool me. That horse will never see sixteen again." The best judges had called him six, and his owner had proofs that he wasn't a iontlh older. The mail carrier felt of the animal's ribs, rubbed his spine and ob served : " le's got the botts, or I'm no judge of horses." Then a merchant halted and surveyed the horse's legs, lifted its froiit feet, plnch edl its kniee2s, andi feeliingly said: " Been a pretty goodl steppecr in his (lay, but lhe's gone to thme cows now." Th'le next man was a book keeper. It took him about flve minutes to make upl that sweeny wvas the leading ailment, al though poll-evil, heaves and glanders were presenit In bad form. "W hat Is sweeniy?'' queried an innocent bootb2lack who had muade up his mind thaL the horse had liver comiplaint. " Sweeny ?" repeatedl the boouk k eeper, " look at the way lie carries his tall, and learn what sweeny is." "Oh,- no," put in another, "'sweeny af fects the eyes." " I guess not," said an Insuirance man, " I gtuess sweeny affects tihe lungs." "Lungs I" cried a broke r, "' you meanm the stomiachi." Aiid they wore wraiigling over It wheni the owner canie and led himm away. Iioicat~y Its 0w t e waret. Arcine Alton, the son of a sailor, who Is seldom at home, Is a telegraph messeiiger in New Orleans. He Is barely thirteen years old, but unusnally qiumck andI well-In formed for his age. Bome (lays Pince, while hurrymng through one of the principal business streets, lie stumbled across a pack age, which hie opened andi found to contain negotiable bonds having a market value of $14,000. '[le boy was fully aware of the value of his find, buit without a moment's hesitation lie called to a genmleman who was passing andi asked im what hie should (10 wIth the bonds. For seime uniexplained reason this gentleman b'clleved them to 1)e thme property of Messrs. Labatt& Son,well known lawyers,and stent the boy with them to theIr address. The faithful little nmes senger eerriedl them as dliretedi, and found that Mr. Labatt, Sr., was not In. Hie was recelvedi by the Junior partner, however, who took the bonds, belheving that they had becen diroppedl by his father, and kind ly gave the boy the magnificent sum of 50 cents. TIhe next day. however, It turned out that the bonds were the property not of Labatt, but of a wealthy 01(1 gentleman named Jackson. The latter adlvertisedi his loss and offered to pay a lare: reward for the recovery of his property, A die tective, who had been made aware of thme manner in which the bonds hiad been brought to Mr. Labatt, secured them, and bringing them to Mr. Jackson, demiandedl $i.000 for hIs services. After some dis cussin lie was patId $70O0 amid gave upi the securities. Meanwhile, the real finder of the boinds, the honest messenger boy, has to content himself with the 50 .oeists given him by tle lawyer. His mother,.-however, who seems to be a woman who knows what she is abogt, proposes to sue hir'. Jackson and the detective for at least a portion of the reward. The Doxology Bestowed. Faro Bill of Carbon Ranche was the speaker of the occasion. When he rose lc glanced around Ltie tent for a moment, evidently collecting his thoughts, and began: "Feller citizens, the preacher beln' ab sent, it falls on me to take his hand and play it for all its worth. You all know that I'm just learniog the game, an', of course, I may be expected to make wild breaks, but I don't believe there's a rooster in the camp mean enough to take advan tage of my ignorance an' cold-deck me right on the first deal, I'm since -e on this this new departure, an' 1 believe I have struck a game I can play clear through without coppering a bet, for when a nan tackles such a lay-out as this he plays every card to winl, and if lie goes through the deal as lie orter do, when he lays down to die, hn' tihe last case Is ready to slide from the box, he can call the turn every tinte. I was readin in the Bible to-day that yarn about the prodigal son, an' I want to tell you the story. The book (ion't give no dates, but it happened long, long ago. This prodigal son had an old man that put up the coin every, time the kid struck him for a stake, an' never kicked at the size of the pile either. I reckon the old man was purty well fixed, an' when lie died lie in tended to give all his wetiath to this kid an' his brother. Prod give the old man a lit tle game o' talk one day, and injuced him to whack up ii advance :' the death racket. Hle'd ne sooner got his divy in his flat than lie shook tle old nian and struck out to take in some o' the other camps. lie lied. a way-up tine for a while, an' slung his cash to the front like lie owned the best payin' lead on earth, but hard luck hit hian a lick at. last im' left him flat. The book don't state what, lie went broke on, but I reekion lie got steered up agin some brace game. But anyhow, he got left without a chip or a four-bit piece to go an' eat on. An old granger then tuck him home an' set, him to herdin' logs, an' here lie got so hard up an' hungry tiit lie piped ofl the swine while they were feedin', and lie stood in with 'em on a husk luich. lie soon weakened oi such plain provender, an' he says to himself, says he: 'Even the old man's hired halds mire livin' on square grub, while I'm worryin' along on corn-, husks straight. I'll just take a grand tum ble to myself an' chop on this racket at once. I'll skip back to tihe governor and try to fix things up, and call for a new (ealh' so off he started. '' old 11111n11 seed the kid a coming, and what (o ye reckon lie did? Did lie pull his gun and lay for himn1, intending to wipe him as soon as he got into range? Did tie call the dogs to chase hiini off the ranche? Did he hustle around for a club and give huim i stand-off at the front gate ? .Eh I Not to any alarm ing extent lie (lidn't. No, sr I Tho Scrip ture book says lie waltzed out to meet Limi, alnd fioze to himi on ltie spot, and kissed him, and then marched hin off to a cloth ing store and fitted im oit in the nobbiest rig to be had for coin. Then the old gent invited all the neighbors and killed a fat calf, and gave the biggest-blow out the camp ever seed." At the conclusion of the narrative the speaker paumed, evidently framing in his mind a proper application of the story. Before lie could resume a tall, blear-eyed gambler, with a flerce moustache, arose and saii: "'Taint me as would try to break up a niecting, or do anything disrehigious. No, sir; I am not that sort of a citizen. But inl all public hoo doos it is a parliamentary rule for anybody is wants to ax questions to rise up and fire 'ei off. I (o not want ter fool away time a questioning the work ings of religion; oh, no I As long as it is kept n proper bounds and does not inter. fore with the boys in their games, I do not see as it caii (1o harm. I just want to ax the honorable speaker 'ilihe has not given hiimself (lead away. Does 1t. stand to rea soii that a bloke would -feed upion corii husks whemn there was hash factories in thie camp? Would anybodly have refused hn [lie price of a square nical if lie had struck them for it ? Woukt any of [lie dlealers that beat him out of his coin see himii starve ? Au I remarked afore, I do0 not wvant to make aiiy disresp~ectable breaks, but, 1 must say that I have got it pumt upi that [lie speaker has been tryiing to feed uis oii cussed thin [ail'y, anid no one bumt a silly wouled take it in." Bill glared on the speaker and fairly hissed: "D~o you mieaii to say that, I am a liar?" "Wal, you can take it just as .you chio.ose. Sonic folks would swallow it in that shape.'' Bill pulled hIs revolver, and in an instant [lie bright barrels of numnerous weapons flashed in [lie air as [lie friends of each p~arty prepared for active dulty. The brevet preachier was [lie firsj, to fire, and [lie rash dloubter of spiritual truths fell dlead on the ground. Shot followed shot ii quick suc cession, and whieii quiet wits againi restored a score or more of diead and~ .wound~ed men were carried from the tent. Having so cured attention, Bill e ild:. "Further proceedimgs is adljo)uned for thie (lay. You will receive thie dloxology." Tlhe auienoice arose. "May grace, mercy, andm peace ito with you, -now aiid forever, amen; and I wanit it dlistinctly uir.dherstood [hat I anm goinig to maimtaiin a proper respecct for [lie Gospel if I have to croak every son of a gun of a sinn~er in [lie umlnes. Meetin' is outh" Th'le crowd filed from thie enit as coolly as if nothing extraordinary hmad occuirred,. Waurm i3rarnd. Duiring [lie Mexicn war, Gemneral Scott was very emphlatic In his denumncationi of [lie practice of eating warm -bread. He cointendled [hat bread should be eaten stale andl cold. Thue army on [lie march had, of course, to cat JiardI bread or biscuit, there being no portable ovens in those days. "Well,'' sahdl[lie Captain, who one day visited Geon. Scott ini his tent, rubbing his handsin anticipation, " we'll scoon be in P'uebla, General, I s'ippose ?" "Well, sir,.and whaat theon?" " Why, we'll get uip [lie ovens and have some hot bread."~ " Hot bread, sirn hot bread tIo shouted thme General, rismg from lisa c'ump-stool andC straIghtening his towerirng form, while 1h0 exteiided hIs arm with a miajestic air. " No, sir I Sooner [hanm permit, you to com mIt such an imprudent act, I will stand over the ovens with my drawn sw'ord I" Th'le remark was so .unexpected, and time sp~eech and attitude 'of thie General so [magic, that the Uaptain, in relating it, said that, for a moineont, he thought the General was rehearsing some lInes from a theatrical act, FOOD FOR THOUGHT. Whoever learns to stand alone must learn to fall alone. 'A truth that one does nOt understand becomcs an error. Beware of him who hates the laugh of a child or children. If yould would never have an evil deed spoken of in connection with you, don't do one. The . beam of the benevolent eye giveth value to the bounty which the hand dispenses. Tihe divinity of charity consists in relieving a man's needs before they are forced upon us. It is no vanity for a man to pride himself on what lhe has honestly got and prudently uses. A great part of our existence serves no other purpose than that of enabling L1s to enjoy the rest. People do not need to know more about virtue, but rather to practice what they already know. The idle should not be classed among the living; ihey are a sort of dead men that can't be buried. Never does a man portray his own character so vividly as in his manner of portraying another's. Wicked men stumble over straw in the way to heaven, but climbover hills in the way to destruction. The application of coinmon sense in matters of belief or business is always our best guide and monitor. Intelligence tests ignorance and wisdom tests follies. But who are the intelligent and who are the wise? If there Is any person to wh6m you feel a dislike, that Is the person of whom you ought never to speak. Let wickedness escape as it may at i he bar, it never falls of doing justice upon itself, for every guilty person Is his own hangman. I cannot praise a fugitive and elois.. tered virtne, unexercised and uu breathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary. It Is possible to speak without believ Ing, but it is poor speaking; it is pos sibl to believe without speaking, but It Is poor believing. in ,ir aearches after truth inquire for the old way, the wells which our fathers digged, which the adversitl., of truth have stopped up. Ilospitality to the rich and chari to tile poor, are two virtues that never exercised so well as when accompany each other. .ie Is our neighbor who n di and can receive our nuighborly hel, e4~a if we are connected by no earthl tie, like that of kindred or of country'. What a folly to dread the thought of throwing away life at once, and yet have no regard to throwing It away by parcels and piecemeal. As the shadow follows the body in the Aplendor of tie fairest sunlight so will the wrong done another pur sue the soul in prosperity. The man who lives as lie ought to live is sure to die as he ought to die, whether his death .be inst antaneous or the close of a long decline. Whatever businebs you have, do it the first moment you can; never by halves but finish it without interrup. ton, if such a thing is possible. Thte wisest man may be wiser to-day than he was yesterday, and to-morrow I han lie is to-day. Total freedom from change does not imply total freedom from error. A beneficent person is like a foun tain watering the earth and spreading fertility ; It is, therefore, more delight-. huh and more honorable to give than to receive. If thou wouldst conquer thy weak. ness, thou must n~ever gratify it. Mlo mn Is compelled to eyil; lisa consent only makes it hisa. It is no sin to be tempted, but to be overcome.. A famous English moralist says that lie would be virtuous for his own sake, though nobody were to know It; as lie would be clean for his own sake, tihoughi nobody were to see him. Trhose who ask in this life for work or dliversion only, are sure to find it. But woe to fim who owns to a soul I .It is the thing that least of all finds employment In this world. Don't covet the pOssessions of' any mani unitil you are willing to pay for them the price which he paid; then you will not need to covet them, (or you can go and get them for your self. While many admit the abstract probability that a falsity has usually a uicleus of reality, few bear this abstract probability in mind when passing juidgement on the opinion of others. T[his world is so large, so full of good things, and there are so many avenues to prosperity for every man to walk in, thiat no excuise can be given for being envious of another's success. Every man oughit,to strive to draw lessons from what ho sees and hears. Like the bce gathering honey from the flowers, we should gather wis (loin to all which the mind can light on. '.l'he health of the soul is as precar-. lous as that of the body; for when we seem secure from passions, we are no less in danger of their infection than we are of failing ill when we appear to be well. - in cases of doubtful morality, It is umsuali to say : "Is there any harm in d'oing this ?" Tis question may some times be best answered by asking our selves another: "Is there any harm ini letting it alone?" Our lives make a moral tradition for our individual' seives, as the life ot mankind at large makes a moral tradi tion for the race; anld to have once acted greatly seems a reason why we shiould always be noble. Even to a man who presents the most elastic resistance to'whatever is unpleasant, there will come moments when the pressure from without is t~oo strong for him, and he must feel the smart and the brite in spite of himself.