Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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I~ OR. TRI"WAELY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C.. AUGUST 2, 1881ESALSE 85 1 0- . . . M PARTED. (an I believe, what yet mine eyes have seen, That we are parted who were once so near? That far behind us lie the meadows green, Where we no tuore may greet the early year, And praise the dewy crocus buds, while yet More happy in each other than lil Spring? If I remember, how should you forgot, And leave me lonely in my wandering? Can I believe, what yet mine ears have heard, That severed Is our sweet companionship? An autumn wind among the woodlands stirred And blow your kisses from my grievinglip; Time stopped between us and unclasped our hands That reach in vain across the widening days; Life met our wisful looks with stern commands, And led us coldly down divided ways. Can I believe, what yet my heart has felt, That never more our paths will be the same? That even now your joyous musings melt &To tenderer longing at a dearer name? Then say farewell, since that must be the word. In life's strapge journey I may yet rejoice, But still through all its voices Will be heard The lingering echo of your vanished voice. THE LAST PAGE. To-morrow, Grace--to-morrow, all my own 1" They were parting in tho laurel walk, half-way to the cottage from.tho garden gate. "If I had always been all your own, Norman 1 If I had always belonged to you as I do now I" His arm tightened about her, and a little cloud came into his eyes which he turned from her. Always his own ? What did he know of the twenty-two years that lay behind her ?-this beauti ful woman whom he had met for the first time six months ago, when she came to dwell with the staid old matron, her - companion, in this little cottage of hers, half a mile across the cliffs from his park gates. What did he know ? Little enough, perhaps-olnly that she was the one wo man in the world to him. And yet she was leaving on the morrow for Wyndhalin Park, the great house of the neighborhood. Norman Wyndham, like herself, had no norer kindred, no 0110 to consult, when he fell suddenly and violently in love-nothing to interfere with this pas aion of his, except that the beautiful stranger had been very hard to win. But after steadily and coldly ripuls ing every attention from him for five weary mouths, she suddenly broke down with a completo surrender, which showed sho had beon secretly won long before. - She did not even remonstrate when lie fixed the wedding day only a month later ; and she schooled herself to meet, with a certain stately graciousness, his many friends, who had not taken the smallest notice of her before, but who now flocked to make her acquaintance, as the neighborhood could not afford to be but on the best of terms with Wynd ham Park. And so the morrow was the wedding-day. But the cloud in her lover's eyes was not the shadow of a doubt of her, of whom he actually know so liltl ; it was rather of jealousy that there had been a time whon she was not his- own. It was gone almost as oon as come, how ever, for the morrow was the Wedding day. - , "Tell me, Norman-answer me," she continue~d after a' pause, " could you lbe happy nlow without menc "Grace I" It was answer enough for her-that one woerd in his thrilling voico. She bent her head, and the next instant her * ~ lips just- touched his hand. And before lie coid start out of his amazomonlt, and stop her, tihe flying white figure was half-way to the p)orch. "Until to-morrow-to-mnorrowu, Nor man I" was the good night she flung back to him na sh went. And then sheo hetard the click of tihe gate after~ him as she weint slowly up the p )rchl steps. Up the p)orch. steps, into the vine abadows, and brushed againist, a maln, who lounged, with folded arms there in the doorway. A dark, haggard, disi hated face, that matched well with the slouching and yet bullying figure, an 1 tile slovenly, yet flashy style of dress. One would have thought sihe would have cried out, tihe clear view she haid had of him. And yet sihe uttered not a sounld. She only reeled back a pa5ce or twvo, and smote her hands together with a wikd, despairing gesture. At that the man gave a low amnd guard edl chuckle. "So, my dear, you recogmlze me mn stantly ? I might hlave known you could not forget me, though it's six long years since last we met. One does not easily forget one's husband, amndone's first love-elh, my dear Grace ? I might have known you would bo faithful, dlear." She shuddered back, .out of reach of is extended hanida; she made no anawer to htis jeerinig sp~eechl. Only she said, hoarsely, after a moment: "You-alive 1 You wvore not lest aboard tihe Petrol, thenil?" "Ob)viously nolt," 1ho answvered, care lesaly. "And you ar'fered Inc to believe you were all these years ? You left me, little lmore than a child .to struggle or starve ill the great city, whenm I (lid not prove the smooth, easily hlandiod tool you thought the inlexperienced girl would be. When y'ou found you could not use me, as your decoy, your trap, wheraby to ensnare the foolish young .gamblers you would plunder at all those placs you took me to." 4' Imaoty I perceive you undeistand. Well, when, as I have said, you- turned rusty on my hands, and I found I could do nothing farther with you, it seemed to me the very beat thing for us both that we should part. I never embarked on the Petrel, as you may suppose. I only took advantage of its wreck, with all. hands lost, to write you that letter in a feigned hand, as if from one of your husband's friends, to .tell you he had sailed on her, and so make you a widow. I thought you might be able to endure your weedis ; though, Grace, you did love me once." "I deny it." The low voice was clear and steady now. "It was a girlish fanoy -an ignorant belief that you were some thing very different from yourself. Love I I thought it was; but now I can assure you I know better." "Since you've taken up with this fine follow from the Park, oh, Grace ?" She had no retort to this insult from him. She only lifted her eyes, hitughti ly, full on him. She could look full at him ; for to this man, Ashford Bell, she had done no wrong. . To Norman Wyndham-but she dared not think of him now. "May I ask why, having lost sight of me these six years, you take the trouble to look me up now ?" "For two reasons, 'my dear. To be exact, I never lost sight of you. You have owned that snug little property these four years. So much for reason number one ; secondly, I have a certain Objection to seeing my wife the wife of another man." There was a ring of truth in the last words, mockingly though they were spo ken. 'Grace looked at him and'calmed herself. "At least I -owe you something for saving me from that," she said, quietly. "But to-morrow everything shall be arranged between us." She went past him, into the house, and upstairs to her own room. . He understood her well enough ; she was leaving him there as mastbr of the house; only to-night, as she had told him, there was nothing more to be said between them. Well, so let it be. He was content enough. He lit his cigar, which he had taken from his lips when Grace first came up, but had not ventured to light while its spark might have betrayed him to Wynham loitering with Grace in the garden ; and when he had smoked com placently awhile, he flung himself to sleep on the drawing-room. sofa. Everything was going well; he was quite at his ease. So much at his ease, so comfortably asleep, that when there was a light rustling through the shrub bery under the windows, it never roused him. It was but an instant. A dark figure gained th' gate and sped on swiftly up the road. In the morning they found her cham-i bor.empty, her bonnet and shawl gone, her purso and small satchel filled from her open bureau-drawers, and two sealed notes on her dressing-table. One was addr6ssed to Ashford Bell, and it ran thus: "I told you I owed you something for saving ine. Take, in repayment, my little propertyr, which my poor aunt-left me, and which J. give freely to you, trusting that this .clears ofl' all scores betwee'n you and (b. nio BurL." The other note was Norman Wynd ham's : "Forgive mnc if you -can, when you read bolow, and see that I have deceived you-that seven years before I met you I had ceased to be0 Grace Lindsay. For give ine-I tried to tell you of my past ; when you see the man who is my hus band, you wvill understand howv I shrank from the humiliation of the confession. I think I need not tell you I had full reason to believe him dead-dead and blotted out of my life six years ago. I might have kniown such a blot as that could not leave any after page fair and clear. I did know-but I loved you though I am GRAoE BuL.' And that was all-the last page of her life that those two men ever read. Another A fricani Hunter. One of the most remarkable African huaters wno ever lived to return from the wilds of that, continent, has juLst puibbshed an account of his travels. The ordinary African traveler of literature kills lions, tigers and elephants without-number;. his 'trusty rifle never misses fire at tlie criti cal movement and *,he "cowardly natives" always run off, leaving him in a plight from which he rescues himself only by the gratest address and skill. But this cx cepitonal man, D~r. liolub, was no such fellow, Hie couldn't even hiti a baboon at short range. His second shot at a monkey went into Is own hand, grazed his templIe and tumbled him out of the wagon. A herd of horned horses caine near running over him; in chasing some antelopes lie got caught in a thorn bush and nearly tore himself to pieces; lie came near shooting his own (log while In ambush for byenas on a moonlight night; thouglht he Jut aganu plump in the headl as it was drinking by night, but could never find a trace of the benit; wandered off with his gun, got icast and sunstruck, and was saved by a savage; tumbled into a stream trying to hand a three-pound fish, end a panic seizing him when on a watch for lions, he and a a. r vant scrambled quickly into a tree, where they roodted till sunrise. IHe was about thaee years learning the use of the rifle, andi seven years' practice did not makce him a dead shot. But lie evliently learned to tell the truth, which is nmore than African hunting ever did for a sportsman before. A groat reputation is a great charge. A tart temper seldom muellowa with age, ;wno s ine ?g A correspondent says on the way back !rom the Catholic missions we stopped it a ranch on the banks of the San An onio, and right in the midst of these mined Spanish cathedrals and irrigating anals. Around the ranch wore green ields of corn breast high, some dogs good enough for the Westchester dog ihoW; and the handsomest horses I ever iaw. The proprietor came out dressed n baggy brown linen pantaloons, bed icking suspenders and a Yankee chip hat turned up behind like Joshua Whit lomb's. He was a very handsome man -tall, muscular, a manly brow, features It for a model and a rich, full voice, vhich'spoke pure English. I thought it once, '.'What ahandsome man I How lid you come downi here on a ranch ?" "Yes,". ho said, addressing my fiiond, 'my two men are sick, and I'm working ike a slave myself. Yesterday I dug out ;hat irrigating ditch, and I've drawn 171 oads -of manure this spring myself, and spread it on the land. too. Look, my nnds are all callous." "What are you using manure on this ich land here for? I asked. "Vell, the old Spaniards exhausted t. It looks black and rich, but the life s all out of it. I want to set out a field )f tobacco. Tobacco, you know, takes ;ood soil. I've raised tobacco in Con iecticut,and I believe I can demonstrate ;hat the best tobacco land in the world a in Texas. You won't believe it-you von't believe a man would -be such a ool-but I toll you sir, I'am working 1ere for an idea. I want to prove that )rops can be raised here, and splendid irops, too, without irrigation. Come md see the horses." he said, leading ;he way behind the house. . "They are the finest in Texas," said ny friend. "That mare can go in 2:20, mnd either of these stallions is worth p8,000." "But who is the handsome hermit ?" [ asked, "whose shirt is wet with honest 1weat, who toils for an idea, and who Ia $8,000 horses ?" "That," said he, "is the Rev. Adiron lack Murray. I introduced him as Mur ay didn't I?" "But what is the eloquent Boston ?astor, and the author of. the charming Jook of summer travels in the Adiron lack, doing here? What's the secret? ts General Butler would say, "who is 1he ?" "That's it," said my frioiid, as he hit a fly on his horse with a whip; "a man may lovo a beautiful woman, aud with ier all is a Paradise. It did. A bar tender always takes the opposito riow of everything. The other day Mr. 3allagher was in a Court street saloon Lnd tipped his chair back and went over md jammed his head into a cuspador and was considerably hurt. The ncident annoyed him, and the bar-tender old him he hadn't ought to swear. 3alagher said that under the influence )f sudden pain five men out of six would awear. The bar tender would not be ,ieve it, and the result was a bot. Then, ~or the test, Gallagher got an ordinary arick and heated it fearfully hot and placed it on the marble bar. Now a orick doesn't show heat, and therefore it was not surprising that when Mr. Guff yamc in and saw the brick on the bar he should pick it up. He, however, showed 1o disposition to put it in his pocket, or :1o anything else with it ; lie immediately aid it down and made frantic gestures ma1 said a number of wicked things. I'hon in caniio a butcher, who also picked up the brick and laid it down. He Looked around savagely and, af ter freeing liis mind of some unholy sentiments, said he shouldn't see anybody laugh, as he preferred not to be under the neces sity of doing murder. The niext victim was a Chinaman, and he spoke every word of English he knew, and two-thirds of what he remarked would be improper in a Suniday school. He joinedl Mr. (Gulf mnd the butcher in, sucking his fingers and watching for tihe next man, Ho came in tihe forum of a prominent poli tician, and as lie placed the brick upon the bar, his language souided like after election talk. Tihe bar-tender began to be nervous, but the next manm merely p~ranced about and wildly waved his hands without saying a word. It ap peared that he was a dumb man. So the next man would decide the bet. He was a young man from the lumber dis tricts of Maine, anid didn't look like a balkative chap. But when lhe got hold af that brick his jaw seemed to become loose, and the way lie blasphemed even ihiocked a parrot, and the butcher said he'd give seventy-five dollars if lhe could talk like that. Gallagher had won, Hie rose up and explained the affair. Thme six, headed by the young man from Maine, started for him as oiie mani. They pulled him all over the place. They brushed th~e ceiling with him, used( him for a foot-ball-, threw him down the collar, tore his clothes off and made him dlrinmk water. They say they wanted to see if it would make him swear. It did. is bid Flame. A newspaper man in Nevada was writ ing a story which had for its heroine one of his old flames, who had the good luck to escapoe marrying him. His wife at the breakfast table was insisting that she herself should he introduced in the work of fAction as a charming creature. Them husband demurred, saying his Im nainuatinn wa niot. equn1 to the task.eThe jocular debate was carried to the door when lie was leaving for the office. His wife stopped out and cried after him as lie reached the ridewalk : "Well, I shall insist upon your marrying me in the end." "Couldn't think of such a thing, my dear," responded the heartless man, but toning his coat and striding .away. When he returned at noon for lunch the partner of his poverty was in the lowest stago of depression. aid ready to weep on the slightest inducemnut. "What's the matter dovey ?" cooed the moulder of public opinion. ."Matter ?" whimpered dovey; "matter enough. plague take it. When you went away this morning, and I called after you that you must marry me-meaning in that wretched story-I didn't see- un til you had gone that Mrs. Jones had her head out of the window and Mrs. Brown on the other side was sweeping off her porch. Bloth' of 'em looked at me with eyes like saucers, and I was so confused when it flashed upon me what they must thinlo that I blushed up to the roots of my bang and rushed into the house. It wasn't ton minutes till I saw Mrs. Jones-I was looldng through the blinds-till I saw Mrs. Jones glido into Mrs. Brown's and she stayed there for an hour. It is stjo to be all over town that wo're not married." Sandy's Experience ith Mint Juleps. Mr. John Greig, who. for the session commencing in 1841 represented the Canandaigua district in Congress (in place of Francis Granger, who resigned to accept the oflte oft Postmaster Gen eral), was a well-preserved Scothman, as well in purse- as in,.person, and very fond of entertaining 6 a princely man ner. Hp had invited, a small dinner party' in order to entertain a Scotch friend who had but recently arrived. in America. The hour named Id fully come and passed, but the hon< red guest had not. Mr. Greig became uneasy and nervous, for the servants had long since reported the courses ready for service. He went out on the porch and looked down the avenue to see if he could got a sight of his friend, when, lo4 there he comes "Sandy," much as if he had a hundred pounds or so upon his shoulders-in fact, lie was a sheet or two in. the wind, as it were. Greig.took in the situation at once, and, hastening down the avenue, met the happy. guest, and reiadily got him beneath his roof. Although "San dy" w sloriouK, hit. irantal rnwors were yet steady. He said : "John, I'll tell ye hoo it a came aboot. While waiting at the hotel for the oor to come, I saw some Yankees at the bar adrinkin' som' at coodna tell by sight what its name may be. It was a mixture of sugar and lemon and lumps of ice, and maybe some else; but the barkeeper shook the mixture between two tumblers until it foanied and sparkled like an au rora borealis; then he put in some sprigs resembling meadow-mint, and then the Yankees quaffed the liquid through a spring of rye straw, and they drank wi' a leer, as if it was inco guid. I stopped to the barkeeper and speered to ken the name o' the liquid, when lie said it was a 'jollup,' or 'jewlip,' or something like to it in the seonid. I tolled him I'd tok yuin ; but, oh, 'men, it was no boel to tok! The fak is, John, alec I kenned what I was aboot, I had made 'way wvi' seCcun, a' through a bit o'ryc straw. Noo, John, if I had but kenned the, power o' the thing, and heal quot at six, my heed would no feel as if the p~ipers and the fiddlers were playing lively reels in it, and a score o' lads and lassies were dancing in glee a' aboot it. Noo, John, if ye be minded ever to try yen Yankee 'jollops,' tok my advice and be content wi' aix at a sittin'. Mind ye, if ye try .ecue'n, ye mnauni b waur 'ncr Tam o .'hanter or myself'; six is quite enough, John." Who Mhlauld flow F'hat? Who should bow first? Some authori ties 'insist that a gentleman should not bow to a lady until she boy's to him; the author of the " American Code of Manners" says that this is all wrong: "A gentleman should alwvays bow first to a lady, nao matter whether she returns it or niot ; if Ito sees by her face that she does not wvish to return it lie can refraini from bonving the next time I" 'This is on the groundl that '"a lady, par ticularly an elderly one or a society leader, perhaps, has so many acquaint ancees that shte does not remenmber all the young muon who have been present ed," This, however, (lees not scomt to settle the question conclusively, for it may be that the young man has quiite as nmany acquaintances as thme lady, even if an elderly one, Hie may hinmself, too, very likely be a society leader ; in fact, a- very large number of the leaders of society at the presenat time are of what wvould have boonm considered fifty years ago'a comparatively immature age. Our own~ opiniont is, anid it has boen arrived at after long reflection, that both por sonis should bow simnultaneously ; por haps in the ease of very near-sighted persons a little latitude might be0 given, providing the fact of myopia can be clearly, proved by medical evidence. There is, 'however, always danger ir the' exceptions to social rules, and therefore it may be safer for near-sight. ed persona to bow in all eases of doubt, accustbmning themselvs to ilo this witl: uniform courtesy whether they art themanlvna rneognizna or not "Gin Mary the Shake." Some time ago, a Detroit, produce buyer had occas'ion to remain over night with a farmer in Western Michigan. Whilo eating supper he was asked if he know much about law-whether he had ever served on a jury: if he called him self a competen man to arbitrate - in an affair between neighbors, and if he was pos.ted on the law regarding breach of promise cases. He answered these questions as best as he could, and ap parently to the satisfaction bf the farm er, for as soon as the meal was finished the sun-browned agriculturist confiden tially began: 1I think you are a pretty square man, and I want you to help me out of a little difficulty. I'll be back in about half an hour." Ho put on his hat and went down the road, and at the time agreed upon he re turned in company with a young farmer about twenty-two years old, whom he called Josephus. The only peculiar things about Josephus were hisflaxon hair, long legs, white eyebrows tand breadth of feet, but, lie was no imiud-sill. As soon as he was introduced he opened the ease as follows : . "There hain't no use in any beating around the bush. The fact is, when I first come hero, I fell in love with Uncle Sile's Mary. She riciprocated, and we agreed to have each other. That's cor rect, isn't it, Uncle Silo ?" "I guess that's about the way of it," replied the farmer. "Wall, to make a long story short, last Jinuary I gin Mary the cold shake fur a gal over in the Bebee Settlement. Mary is a good gal,. but she hain't even second fiddle on style or good looks, and Uncle Silo knows that as well as I do. Now, then, they've been talking about a breach of promise suit on me, and I won't deny they've got a caso. I've been willing all along to settle damages on a fair basis, but we couldn't just agree on what was fair. Uncle Silas comes over and says you are here, and lie offers to leave it out to you if I will, and so if you will act on the case, we'll come to some conclusion." "Where is Mary ?" asked the Detroit or. "Down in Martin county, Indiana," answered the father. "And she wiites home," added Jose phus, "'that she's had nine offers of mar riage in two wceks. Them Hoosiers is just swarming for her. Them nine offers want to.be considered in assesing dam ages. "I "And how old is she ?" "She's only twenty-one, and that's an other thing to be considered. 'Tain't like as if who was forty, and might have to go off to China, as a missionary. "And how much property are you worth ?" "Wall, I've forty acres of scrub land, an old cow and a mule, and I reckon the traps around'the place might bring $10 ab 16ttui. Tho'o hnaot Tujun. and Uncle Silo knows it." "Yes, that's about the way he's fixed," said the farmer. "And another thing you want to con sider is the fact that I ain't purty. If I was purty the gal might claimt high dam ages, but I'm about as infernal homely as a Digger Injun. Add to this the fact that 1 am infidel, and that I can't sing, nor fiddle, nor dance, and am too lazy to enjoy a biled dinner, and what has the gal lost by not marrying me?" "And you are both willing to leave it to me?" "I reckon," they answered together. "Well, all things considered,"said the Detroiter after due reflection, "my ver dict is that Josephius drive the 0old cow over here in full for all damages. What do you say, young maii? "Thme cow is worth $141, but I'll do it rather than have any hard feelings." "How is it with you. Uncle Silo ?" "'Waal, I guess that's about fair. I had been sticking out for $15 in cash, lbnt times ar pur-ty cluis and I wvant to give Joe a fair show. Go'n git thme crit tur, Josephus, and wve'll have the papers maifde ouit, treat the stranger to hard eider, and go to bed feelin' that we are good friends as before you gin Mary the shake." The~ Operaton of Arsentec. Arsenic has been long and generally ini use as poison and as a cure, yet no satisfactory explanation hais beeni offered for its varied effe.cts, Almost every part of the system is subject to its blightinig or healing influence; it produces no sen sible offeet at the plae where it is received into the system;' small quantities priOdnice po0isonous1 oflects, accumulating till the fatal point is reach edl,whmilo larger (loses taken for lonmg peri ods p~rodue a covetedl freshness. Liebig ref ers these effects to the readi ness with which it enters into comblina tions with the orgaini matters and to its powver of preserving themi from decay. If they do not decay it is beCcauso they have lost that essential character of living matter, the power of undergoing trans formation; hence a p~arts or wvhohe they are (lead. But the preserving effect of arsenic uponm corpses seems to be rather traditional andi~ to lack suflicient founda tion. Attention has not been p~aid in the cases recorded to the nature of the soil, and the condition of other bodies bumried near b y. Two German investiga tors aiscrib~e arsenical offects to the activ ity of oxygen atoms in connection with arsenic. The corrosive power of commnn ironi rust is wvell kinown. '.Ilho imroni oxidle gives off an atom of oxygen, wvhich being ini the nascenit state act;: vigorously upon01 the organic matter with whuich it may lbe ini contact. But another atom of oxygen combines wvith the iron and is again imi parted to the organic matter, this pro c.ass bmeing constanitly rep~eated with de strutioni effect. Thme same p)lay of give and take occurs with the arsenic. Ar sonic acid loses ani atom of oxygen and becomes arsenious acid ; thme latter takes aii atomi and becomes arsenic acid again, If either acid be injectedl into the intes tines the other is sooni found to be pre sent. These changes, it is believed,give suffleiont basis for the natural explana tion of all thme medical offects of arsenic. -A race of kmge ro ined in India 2900 1.0. -Queen V~ictorra was born May 24th, 1819. Cure for Sea-Sickness. As " all the world and his wife " seem to be going to Europe this summer, sea sickness and its cure is one of the most general if not the most popular topic for talk. Three New York doctors were recently interviewed upon the subject One said there is only one remedy for iti . to stay ashore. But he subsequently admitted that that is not a complete remedy' for he added that land-sickness, caused by riding backward and in rail way cars, is the same as sea-sickness. But another doctor says that within a year there is no disease about which so much has been learned, and which is so perfectly curable. It is a disease of tile nervous system, mainly of the brptin and spinal cord, comes from a series of mild concussions, and produces, by synpathy, disorder of the stomach. The remedy is bromide of sodium, taken three times a day a few days before embarking, and kept up at sea until the danger is passed. It renders the system less susceptible to the disturbances caused by the move monts of the ship. The drug must be takon intelligently al(. On consultation with a physician. Dr. Hammond says that in his own caso lie has found ten or fifteen drops of chloroform on lump sugar and the use of bromide of potas shin beneficial. All three doctors agreed that there is no benefit to be de rived from sea-sickness except for those who are in the habit of eating too much. And if people are " the better for it," it is because the sea makesk them better in spite of sea sickness. "' No more benefit can be derived from it than from an attack of typhoid fever," says Dr. Beard. If, therefore, it can be prevented with out causifg any other or any greater harm to the system, people are entitled to the full benefit of remedies that are really such. "Nice Wtather For Pic Nice." Recently a Detroit passenger car was rolling along with fourteen passengers. holding down the hard seats, when a woman suddenly called out that her pocket had been picked. The only person who did not seem stunned by the announcement was a lathy individual with a blind eye and logs which shoved clear across the aisle and under the opposite seat. He rose up like clock work, pulled the door shut and said : " I've been right here before, and there's only one way to do this business. Every man must empty his pockets. I'll lead off. Here's a wallet with nothing init, " com, t.Abuttons, a knife and a bottle of cough medicine. The finger of suspicion points At all of us. Any body who refuses to shell out will be looked upon as the guilty party. Now, then." Two or throe men began hauling knives and keys out of their pockets, but It then the tall man discovered the .oSt portemonnaio on the floor. "Suspicion has ceased to pint," lie said .As lie held it up and -opened the door. Ladies and gentlemen, let me congratulate you on your honesty, and also warn you against trusting to appear ances. I was dead sure that the fat man over there was the pick-pocket, but you see how ." "Sir, you are a villain 1" roared the p)assenger. "Yes, I thought he had it in his boot leg, b~ut his looks--." " And I'll knock your head off, sir I Some one hold this dozen of eggs for "But his looks belie him. He might take chickens, but he would never Ah I I get off hereo; good-bye all ; nice weather for p~ie-nics I". Esthetic Co~okery.' An ethicrial lady has opened a school of "'aesthetic" cooking in Ohicago, and although all the names of the dishes are in Frenich it needs no interpreter to get a general idea of the aesthetic hashI that the lady is dishuing up. One of the most satisfying and substantial articles on the bill of fare is fried grape leaf, garnished with two carroway seeds, one of which is to be eaten and the other left for manners. There is no doub~t that a fried grape leaf is very filling, and if the gormandizer should be left to in dulge his appetite unrestrained, his sense of tante might overcome his diges tive powers and waddle from the table with three, or even four, fried grape leaves stowed away in his stomach, and seek the first ojportunity to .looseni his waistcoat. This, however, has been provided against by the preparattion of lighuter dishes, wvhich tend to dhiilte the grape leaf, and lighten the task of the gastric juice in its-work of assimilation. There is "'brunoise soup," wvhich is made by confining the brunoise in a tin kettle, and placirg it near an op)en door. When 80oup is called for the window is raised, a draft is thereby establlishe~d be tween the door andl the window, and by aittinlg in this draft the aosthetic pmersoni takes his soup). If too rich, the atmos phiere of the room should b)0 heated and thus rarifled. A still lighter dish is vacuum wafles-glass balls from which the air has been exhausted. The ball is brokon by a sharp tap) of the dinner knife, and the inside eaten with a apoon, as dessert. MAsthetic cooking, wvhile it is highly relished by skeletons, and re garded as a splendid thing, to set out to a tramp, is hardly nutritious enough for a harvest hand or a man working in a' roling mill FOOD FOR THOUGHT. How little do we know that which we arc; how less what we may be I When you have an opportunity to praise, do it with all your heart. When you are forced to blame, appear, at least, to do it with reluctance. Learn to hold thy tongue. Five words cost Zacharias forty weeks' silence. Never excuse a wrong action by say ing some one else does the same thing. Of all the ruins of the world, the ruin of a man is the saddest to contemplate. Power does not consist in striking strongly or often, but in striking justly. I kThe gout nuy be said to be a beacon on the rock of luxury to warn us against it. To be wise upon deliberation, and not upon1 present occasion, is no great mat ter. Education is not a virtue of itself, and is not a passport to fame and true great ness. There is a right and a wrong way of rubbing a mal's mind as well as a cat's back. There is a way that seemoth right to man, but the end thereof is the way of death. Never judge by appearances. A seedy coat may cover a heart in full bloom. The desire of being pitied or admired is probably the true reason of our confi dence. It is a noble species of revenge to have the Iower of retaliation and not to exer cise it. Considering one's own weakness is a great hell) to gentleness -in dealing with others. The most brilliant qualities become u-jeless when .not sustained by force of character. Dress often indicates only a fool ; but address is thie finest ornaniont of a cour teouls mlap. The memory of some persons is no thing but a row of hiooks to hang up grudges on. Let him who regrets the loss of time make proper use of that which is to come in the future. It is no vanity for a man to pride him self on what lhe has honestly got and prudently uses. Ideas generate Ideas ; like a potato, which, cut in pieces, reproduces itself in a multiplied form. The sublimity of wisdom is to do those things living which are desired to be done when dying. A weak mind is like a microscope. It iagnifies small things, but cannot re ceive large ones. Genius is nothing more than the facul ty of laboring to advantage, with a sprinkling of luck. Be happy if you can but do not despise those who are otherwise. for a, not their troubles. All that nature has prescribed must be good ; and as death is natural to us it is absurdity to fear it. Webster once said : The most import ant thought I ever had was my personal responsibility to God. It takes'hut a moment to cloud a lovely morning, and a slight misdeed to mar the happiness of a life. Most men keel) on hand a large assort mont of evils, while their stock of excel lencies is ruinously low. Philosophers hold it as a sacred truth, that lie who would be happy, must placo a full value on his time. - There is only one objection to wvell meaning people-,that is, they have not time for ''well-doing." Never does a man portray his own character more vividly than in his man ner of portrayinlg another's. There is no ranker species of ill breeding than speaking of any religion sarcastically,.or with contempt. The great thinker i's seldom a disput anit. He answers other men)'s arguments by stating the truth as he sees it. All our actions take their lilies from the coimplexion of the heart, as land scapes their variety from the light. Somie thi're are who gaze intently into thme well of truth, hiut only in hope of seeing their own image reflected there. There are men ill the world who re.. semble thme one of whom Jerrold said lie was like a pin, only he~ had a head and noe poinit. T1hie dishonest man gives no more light to thme world than a tallow candle, and when lie (lies he leaves as had an odor behind him. Venture not into the company of those that are infected with the plaguie, no, though thou think thyself guarded with an anitidote. No error is more fatal than that of those who think that virtue hams no other reward, because they have heard that she is her own. How sad a thin g is time wheither it goes or comes ; andl how correct was the saint who said: "Let)us throwv our hearts imnto eternity." To pronounce a man happy merely because lie is rich, is just as absurd as to call a man healthy merely because he has enough to eat. No man ought to comiphain if the world measures him as be measures others. To measure one with his yardstick may be hard, but it is fair. It is said that love conquers all things, but a jumping toothache that knows its business and strictly attends to ,it can make a man forget that lie ever loved at all. As wvhen we are in prosperity' we are ready to think our mountamn will never be brought low, so when we are in ad versity we are ready 'to think our valley will never be filled up. The man who is accused unjustly canm afford to mainitain silence, b~ut the man who is justly accused -must make as great a p)other as possible ini order to ' throwv pophle oft' the track. When a man is always attributing evil motives to people you cannot heltf recalling the adago, set a fox to eatch r fox. If you should boast that you 2Jover tolhd the truth p~erhapis yon wemild do At at that very momontfdor the fi-st tin, i your life.