The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, August 18, 1881, Image 1
-__E .Y EDITION. WINN.S... . mS. ..Um..
TI-ELYEDITION. WINNSBORO, S. (J., AUGUST 18, 1881. 'ESTABLISHED 1865.
WIDE-AWAkE AND FART-ASLEEP.
A bright summer day caneo out of the east,
And a dear little lad was he,
His lips were red from a strawberry feast,
And his eyes were blue as the sea.
His yellow hair was blown by the breeze,
Like grass in a windy place,
He had torn his jacket in climbing trees
And he laughed all over his face.
lie danced in the elm, on the leafy spray
Whore the nest of the bluebird swings,
Till the birdies had winked.the sleep away,
All under their painted wings.
He shook the stem of the lilies tall,
While they nodded in high surprise,
And rubbed, with their flugers white and small,
The dreams from their golden eyes.
The daisy hurried to wash her face
In a drop of the silver dow,
And every leaf in its lofty place *
The kiss of the sunshine kn0w.
The squirrel chattered and combed his tall,
That curls up over his spine;
And each red clover turned almost palo
When thle village clock stiuok nine.
For two little boys, in two little beds,
Lay sleeping the morning long,
Though the sun shone in on their tangled heads
And the birds had ended their song.
"Oh, dear, oh, dear " said the summer day,
* What sleepy small boyp I see 1.
I wish, I wish they would wake and play
With a bright little day like me." t
THAT LITTLE FRIGHT.
"For my part," said Harry Sinton,
"I'm not particular; a good little heart,
fair sense and a sweet temper; after
that, 'her hair shall be what color heaven
pleases.' Not that I am afraid of
beauty-I like a pretty girl as well as C
anyone-but I don't insist on it as some
thing I am entitled to."
The elegant Bert Dean smiled a smile I
of contempt.
"My good fellow," said lie, "your I
powers of comparison must be very
limited if you propose exchanging your
thousand bachelor privileges for such a I
trifling consideration."
" Well, what do you want? Let us C
hear."
"I don't know that I want anything; i
I am very well contented as I am." 8
"But what would induce you to be- I
come a Benedict ?" I
"Let me see.; I don't wish to be un- I
reasonable. Beauty is, of course, the t
first requisite; wouldn't look at an
heiress without it. Mere beauty, how
ever, is a very slight matter. I must t
not be afraid of my wife's opening her t
lips. Of course she must sing, speak
several languages. Given all these, and
a suitable income-say twelve to fifteen t
thousand a year-and I might think of
it then."
"What, nothing more ?" asked the
other, ironically, "I am afraid you go
too cheap."
"Bert Dean," said Harry, solemnly,
"you are a conceited fop I A good
looking one, I admit, and not originally
destitute of brains; but eaten up, de
voured by inordinate vanity; and I
firmly expect to see you knocked down,
some day, to a girl with red'ringlets."
Bert Dean shrugged his shoulders.
"May will expect me early," he said,
and retired to his dressing-room.
He emerged from it an hour or so
later, in the most scrupulously exquisite
condition. He had some excuse for
making extravagant demands about a
wife. His Cousin May, called him when
all things were considered the first young
man in society, and wvas casting her
eyes around for .a suitable match for
him. When lie entered her well-lighted
rooms, they were already quite full. He
made a tour of the apartments, bestow
ing a little-languid notice on two or three1
favored ones, and presently subsided
into a chat with Mrs. Miller. This lady
was neither very young nor particularly
pretty, but he liked to talk to her, and
so lie remained at her side.
"Mr. Dean," sho said, when half an
hour or more had elapsed, "I am afraid
the young ladies will hardly forgive me
for absorbing your attention so long.
Seo-there is a young lady quite alone ;
pray go and make yourself charming."
Bert turned his head.
"What I" lie exclaimed, ' "That little
fright ? Mrs. Miller, do be merciful!"
But Mrs. Miller did not smile.
"I bog your pardon," he said,
p~olitely. "It was very wrong to speak
as I did."
"It was indeed. I am afraid she
heard you, too."
"That is not possible I" he said, with
real mortification.
Mrs. Miller relented at the sight of
his vexed countenance.
"The only atonement you can off'er,"
she said, "is to seek an introduction and
make yourself as agreeable as you can.
Perhaps she will forgive you, or think
she did not hear arighmt."
"Must I? Will you pardon me on no
other terms ?"
"Certainly not. When I see the
young lady smiling upon you you shlall
be restored to my esteom, and not till
then."
"Cruel1 I but I amn obedient. And ho1
wvent in search of an introduction.
Mr. Sinton chanced to be near at hand,
and opened his eyes slightly when he'
learned his friend's desire.
"Know her ?" he said. "Of course I
do! Prophesied concerninlg her hefore
we came, red ringlets and all. Didn't
think, though, that your fate would be,
dlown on you so soon,"
"Nonsense I Sinton, pray be
serious."
"Because it is such a serious matter
with you.? Very thing I was saying ;
how un~reasonlable you ai'e I But comei
were presently exchanging opinions on
lhe staplq party-going topics.
To do Bert justico, lie sincerely ro
gretted his thoughtless exclamation.
Ue was igngentlemanly, he know, and he
jad, besides so great a horror of female
igliness as to regard all subjects to it
with a painful compassion. The dread
lhat Miss Pierce had overheard his ro
nark gave him just that sting of self
reproach that one would feel had lie
illuded to the infirmity of a deformed
merson in his presence. He determined
* be so agreeable and deferential that
ihe should imagine her ears had do
seived her.
Conversation progressed very pleas
intly between the two.
"Nice girl to talk to," Mr. Dean
lecided. "Sweet voice, no giggle, no
freotation."
Just as he made this reflection, he on
.ountered the eyes of Harry Sinton, and
ancied he saw in them satirical amuse
nent. Awakened by this glance to the
onviction that lie was making himself
he subject of mirth, he sought the side
>f an acknowledged bello, and saw no
nore of Irene Pierce until dancing
>egan.
She was standing opposite him, in a
et where the fashionable Miss -Bently
vas his partner. This young lady was
obsidored a very elegant personage.
he wore a Paris dress, and the costliest
ornaments of any one in the room. Bert
)ean's glance rested with satisfaction
on Irono Pierce. Her face, undeniably
>retty, her dress was a stranger to Paris,
nd had, perhaps, been made at home;
ut it was accompanied by a smooth
vhito neck and'a pair of rounded arms.
Ls Bert made these comments, and
istened dissatisfied to his companion's
ommon-place remarks, lie decided to
angago his vis-a-vis for the next set.
Io found himself repaid for his daring,
or Irene Pierce could speak of her own
ox without malice. Her conversation
vas intelligent, which assured him she
vas familiar with the best books, and
ker choice language pleased him. All
his he discovered in the pauses of the
lance, and she pleased him so well that
ie lingered at her side rather longer
han mere politeness demanded when
he set was over.
On his homeward way, in company
vith his friend Sinton, he had encoun
cred some raillery. He announced
iimself to have found in Miss Pierce the
nost agreeable girl he had found in a
ong time, truly ladylike and intelligent.
"You can't deny that her hair is red,"
aughed Harry.
"Certainly not ; but it was tastefully
rranged,"
The next day, in the afternoon, found
3ert Dean standing on the steps of the
ionso which bblonged to Miss Pierce's
ather. He did not tell his friend that
10 had asked permission to call, but he
lid. -
He found Mrs. Pierce and her
laughter sitting together in the back
)arlor, with their work. Irene was
>raiding a sacque for her little s.istcr;
md hor mother employed on something
nore practical. She had not been well
chooled, as the idea' that she was to
eave the room did not occur to her.
:rone did not look as plain as she had
lone last night, as her animated conver
ation dazzled him. There was an
bffectionato confidence between mother
rnd daughter that lhe had not met in the
>est society, and lhe found it, or some
hing 01se, so pleasant that lie largely
mtstayed the limits of a fashionable
all.
"I had better not call again," he
bought as lie wvent home ; "but what a
lelightful companion she would be 1"
A week or two went by, and Bert
idhored to his new resolution of not
alling, but was unable to prevent him
eolf from watching for her.
"May," lhe asked carelessly of his
sousin, one evening, "who are those
Pierces ?"'
"Old friends of mine," she answered ;
"exellent, substantial people ; but why
lo you ask ?"
"I have met them but here, and that
s the last time I have heard of thorm,"
me said.
"Mrs. Pierce thinks home is the best
lace for girls, so she does not go out
nuch."
If Irene Pierce went out so little, there
was scarcely a chance that they should
noot except at her own house, And did
mo really care enough about the ac
luaintance-was it valuable enough
for him to take trouble to seek it ?
Probably these questions -were
mnswored in the affirmative, as thme next
lay brought him to Miss Pierce's door ;
cior was that the only occasion on w/hich
thie neighbors opposite hand the privilege
>f seeing him.- Again and again he
mmie, but, as time was going on, ho
gecw strangely diffident. Drawn day
y day to Irene's side, happy nowhere
alse, lie could affirm even to himself that
ihe was more to him than a friend.
Phere had been a time that, to declare
himself a lover, involved some sacrifices
n his part ; it seemed strange now that
me should be anxious to make snulh
i sacrifice, yet dloubt, with anxiety
whether Irene would care to accept it.
Some weeks of isuspenso went by, and
me could wait no longer. One bright
lay, when favoring fate had lefta them a
Ittle while alone, lie spoke-not very
loquoutly, but still sufficiently cho
*ently to make his ineaning plain.
At this he grow a little more solf-pos
sessed, and begged to know her reasons.
She declined to state them. Ho per
sisted; was there a previous attachment.
She blushed more vividly, and said no
such thing existed.
Was there not some hop for him,
then? Might' not her resolution be
overcome? Might not these resolutions
cease to exist?
Oh, no - Her resolution was unalter
able.
Then lie urged an explanation, and
insisted on it as his right. His suit was
pushed with-ardor, and Irene's agitation
proved that she was not insensible. But
with a great offort she commanded her
self.
"I should be most unjust to you and
to myself," said she, "could I allow a
transient feeling to set aside my judg
ment."
"Transient I 0 Irene I"
But she silenced him.
"Could I allow myself to give you a
wife whom everybody-you, most of all
-must consider disagreeable ?"
She hesitated a moment.
"What'do you mean ?" cried Bert, in
Imazement.
"You cannot have forgotten our first
meeting," she said, more coiposedly;
"do not oblige me to repeat your words
that evening."
The room swam around Bert Dean.
"That little fright 1" Oh i the sacrilego,
the horror, of that speech! Could he
have made it-an' about that angel?
Overwhelmed with mortification, lie
strove to explain, to say how entirely
his feelings were altered.
"Enough, sir," said Miss Pierce, with
lignity. "Spare yourself the trouble of
ipologizing; it is quite unnecessary, and
)ltogether useless." And so she loft
hii.
Surely this was an awkward situation
for a lover, particularly for Bert, who
had contemplated arranging matrimonial
affairs in such a quiet, well-bred way.
He went home in despair. Could any
woman-oven Irene, gentlest, dearest of
momen-forgivo such an insult to her
vanity ? If she could only seo his heart,
and know hlow long lie had ceased to
regard her as plain, in how many ways
she was even beautiful to him I But to
explain this to her-it was impossible I
He could never obtain her pardon. And
her lovo? That was too far and dear to
dream of.
Private life has its Napoleons, how
ever. They rout impossibilities, and
prove them to be the merest shams. A
week from this dreadful day, Bort was
sitting-very much at home-in the
same parlor whence lie had withdrawn
so ignominiously, and Irene looked at
him in a way that.clearly showed that
she had relinquished her "resolution,
and sacrificed her judgment."
--Scoot.
A Dotroiter who had business in a vil
lage in Washtonaw county, Michigan,
drove out there in a buggy, and, of
course, went to the inn for his dinner.
The landlord made no inquiries until af
ter, the meal hlad been eatbn and paid
for, and then lie found opportunity to
inquire :
"Were you going out to 'Squire
Brown's place?"
"No"
"I didn't know but you were a light
niing' rod man and I was going to say
that tile 'Squire has thlreatened to shoot
tile next one on sight. We don't go
much on them fellers around here, and
I'm right glad that you are somebody
else. Maybe you are going over to Judge
Hardy's to sell him some iruit trees for
fall setting ?"
"No."
"WVell, that's lucky. Only recently
the Judge was remarking to mc that tihe
next fruit tree agent who entered his
gate would want a coffin. The fact is,
I myself have got to do some pretty hard
kicking to pay for being swindled on
grape vines. You are not a p~atenlt right
manl, eli?"
"WVell, that's a narrow escape for you.
We've been swindled here on hay forks,
cultivators, gates, pumps, churns, and1 a
dozen other things, and I'm keeping six
teen dozen bad eggs for the next patent
lighter who shows his face in this town.
Perhaps you are a lecturer ?"
''Oh, no."
"Weoll, youhlaven't lost anything. We
never turn out very strong here to a lec
turo. The last man who struck us lee
tiured onl 'Our Currency,' but didn't take
in enough of it to pay for his suppor.
You arc not a book canvasser ?"
"'No."
"That's amc,ther escape. We've been
laid out here so often that if an agent
should offer to sell a $20 Bible for fifty
cents, we'd suspect a trick to beat us.
Strikes me now that you may he a
lawyer ?"
"Good 'nnfi. Last one who settled
here had to leave town at midnight; and
we don't want one any way ?" Say,
what are you, any way? "
"A politician," replied the Detroiter.
"A politician I Then git I For heaven's
sake, don't stand around hlere if you
value your life ! We've just impeached
our poundmaster for embezzling thme
publiq money; and the excitement is so
intense that the Democrato will ride you
on a rail or the Republicans duck you in
thle water trongh, Git up and s.oo I
Artiflelal Refrigeration.
The production of cold and oven ice
by artificial means is now a necessity i1
many industrial procesies. According
to the continental systemas of brewing,
groat cold is required not only during
the actual brewing process, but also foi
months afterward while the beers are
maturing in the cellars. In this coun
try the natural production of ice is very
uncertain, and some winters may pass
without sufficiont being formed to be
worth collection, and even when ice iN
plentiful here we have no suitable ar
rangements at hand for storing and pro.
serving it for use in warmer weather.
For these reasons many ingenious con
trivances have been devised for the arti
ficial production of ice, and it may nol
be uninteresting to give some explana
tion of the theories on which these ma
chines are founded. When a volatile
liquid evaporates, a large amount of
heat is necessarily absorbed by the re
sulting vapor, and is rendered latent or
imperceptible to the senses and the
thermometer. This heat is taken either
froni some of the remaining liquid or
else from the mQdium in which the
liquid is in contact. The cold produced
by evaporation is very evident with a
volatile fluid like ether; when a little of
this liquid is placed in the palm of the
hand an intense feeling of cold is ob
served; the other, in evaporating, must
absorb heat, and therefore takes it from
the nearest body, which is the hand,and
thus produces a corresponding redaction
of temperature. The evaporation of
volatile liquids is greatly assisted by a
reduction of pressure; and, thus, if P
little other be placed in a shallow dishb
floating on a thin layer of water,and thc
whole be placed under the receiver of at
air-pump, there is not much difficulty
in freezing the water by a rapid exhaust
ion of the air; in this case the vapor o j
ether is renewed almost as fast as it ih
formed, and fresh quantities of liquii
other are thus volatilized. Tho variou
ice-making and refrigerating machinem
arc constructed so as to utilize this
property possessed by all volatilo fluids.
If the other he placed in a metallic ves
sel exposing a large surface to water oi
any other fluid which requires to b
cooled, all the heat necessary for th<
volatilization of the et ier must be takei
from the water; the vlatilization of thc
ether is assisted by mieans of an air
pump, antd the ether vapor is then con.
veyed through pipes to another vesse]
also surrounded by cold water, wher<
it gives up the same a-iount of heal
again, and is thim converted back into r
liquid In this way a comparatively
small quantity of ether will cool or over
freeze an indefinite quantity of water,
and the whole of the ether can be con.
densed again into the liquid state. In.
stead of other, liquid ammonia, sul.
phurous acid, or other very volatile sub.
stances may be used, and a variety o
complicated meohanical arrangemcnt
aro introduced to assist in the volatili
zation, condensation and preservatior
of the volatile agent used. These ine
chanical arrangements have been so fai
perfected that even wanter itself has beer
used as the evaporating agent, and ic4
has b~een suceessfully produced by suel
means. Great cold and even ice has als<
been produced by the expansion and eon
traction of atmospheric air by machine:
constructed on a similar principle t<
those we have just referred to.
"Here's YouP I'as."
He told the Superintendent he wantot
a pass to Chicago.
"Ahm, you're a worthy citizen who hai
been robbed and whlio wants to get home,
said the Superintendent. "I see sucl
every day"
"No air, I'm not," said the petitioner
"You're dying of a wound received ii
the war, maybe, and want to see hem
once mor'e."
"Nary a wound; I played sick an4
stayed in the hospital while in th
army."
"Did, oh ? Well maybe you've got
child dying you want to seeo?"
"Not a bit of it."
"Nowv, well I reckon I can guess you
yarn pirotty soon. You once saved
train on this read from being wrecked.
''No, I didn't."
"'Well,what in thuneter is your excus
for asking a pass5 ?"
"Just this. I'm a beat andl a bum.
want to got to Chicago and don't wan
to hoof it. I conmo to ask a pass on eca
cheek."
"Well, bless your impudence, I lik
it. Here'a your pass."
A Hallway Tiunnel tharough a Volcano.
The rocks which constitute the south
orn island of New Zealand are for th
greatest part of the archaic type, con
sisting p)rincipally of gnoiss, granitc
mica-schist, phyllito, quartzite, andl fe]
sitic rocks. They are partly covered b;
pahocozoic strata, whiclh are folded u)
into innumerable troughs and saddle
backs throughout the province of Caun
terbury, and which partly belong to th<
carboniferous p~eriod, so that there ar
p)rospects for a future discovery of cot
beds. By far the greatest interesi
however, is offered by the extensive vol
canic phenomena of the island, an<
among thoen the extinct volcanoes upo:
the Banks peninsula, east of the tow>
'cf Christnhureh are prominent, !Fh
peninsula, now only connected by band
of low and recent deposits with the main
land, was once a complete island, only
formed by volcanoes,which roso up fron
the bottom of the sea. The special con
struction of such an extinct volcaW hal
been made visible by a tunnel of 2,62(
meters' length upon the railway betweer
Christchurch and Littleton which hai
pierced through the walls of a volcani<
cone and thus has laid bare its structur<
of successive streams of lava and bedf
of scorito, ashes, and tufe, which ar<
again intersected by dikes of youngoi
volcanic rocks. This is perhaps th<
first volcano through which a railway
has ben constructed.
Another peculiarity of New Zealand
is the extremely frequent occurrence ol
bones of those largo wingless birds
which by the aborigines were called
"imoa," and which belong to the family
of the Dinornithidw, of whom the larg
est representative has reached the con
siderable height of ten and a half foot
the largest deposits of these bones wer
found in the Point cavern and th<
marshes of Gronmark. There is now n<
doubt that those gigantic birds wer<
contemporaneous with man, and that at
early human race were mnaa hunters in
these islands, who lived upon the flesl
of these birds at a time when the glacier
extended still very much below theil
prcsont boundaries, for bonos,tools, ani
other romnants of these early ioa hun
ters are frequently met intorininglei
with bones of the now extinct Dinor
nithidro.
Patches of Red Soaow.
Prospectors returning from the Holy
Cross country, Colorado, and especially
from the head of Cross Creek, repor
that the ground is covered with rei
snow. In the almost inaccessible defile.
of Mount Shasta, in California, is t.hl(
only other known place in the United
States where this is seen. In Polar ro
gions it is a familiar sight, and no ex
tonsive traveler there returns without r
description of it. The broad fields o
everlasting snow that flank the northeri
coast of Greenland are flaked with th<
strange red blood, and further towar<
the poles miles of it stretch as far as tha
naked eye can reach. The phenomeni
is due to the presence of minute ree
anamalcuho in the snow. A microscop,
detects its presence, but how it go
there is a difficult queslion. and on(
that has never been quito satisfactori;
answered. The red snow in this regioi
is first seen at the head of Cross Creek
where it may be observod in patches o
intenso carmine, varying in area from a
large as a muan's hat to twenty feet i1
diamnter. Taken in the hand and closol
examined, nothing can be detected tha
gives it color, and it molts into clear re
water, leaving no stain. Further on, il
some of the steel) gulches with whic
the country abounds, the bottois ar
entirely covered with the strange sub
stance. In soie places the color is vivii
in the extreme, whilo in others it fade
to a faint pink, producing an effect no
readily described in words. Old pros
pectors, who p~enetrated the region tw<
years ago, say that thiere was no anoi
of this description there, and its fall cai
scarcely hlave antedated this year. Stil
higher, and at the very foot of th
mountain, the red snow disappears ani
nothing save the pure white coverle
greets the eye. How the same tiny iit
sects that Hent the Bloreal can find thoi
way to the-inaccessiblo Holy Cross, is
thing beyond human ken, and wvill be
problem for the scientists of the futur
to p~onder over.
A Remtarkable Counterfeit.
Thle counterfeit twenty-dollar silv<
certificate, pen made, recently receive
by tile secrot service of the treasury, hai
been examined by very many export.
and is considered a remarkable picce (
penmanship. There are many defeci
in the note, but the most interesting r<
lates to thle manner in which the secr<
Sservice ofice came to suspect tihe prob.
ble designer. Shortly after the unol
was discovered by thle treasury depari
r mont it was discovered that the wordiri
a, on the back was grossly defective in tli
'manner of spelling. For instance tl:
word "customs" was spelled "costumes,
y and the word ''tender" was spelle
"tendre." This gave rise to the boli.
[ that the counterfeit was executed by
t noted German forger who has figured i
r some extent in thle West, and at times
Cincinnati. His ponmanshlip, especial)
in the execution of counterfeib, bar
noftes, has on more than one occasic
attracted the attention of governmoim
oflgers, and in each instance the wvoi
-was marked by faulty spelling. Ti
s, uspected forger was rep~orted to ha,
-been in Cincinnati at the time the noi
was received in the treastiry, and i
-chief of the. serat service division;
once telegraphed to an agenlt in th
city to keep theo'man under survoillanc
For several days nothing more was'heai
of the matter. A special agent was sci
to Cincinnati to look further into tI
affair. This oficer, upon arriving:
SCincinnati, discovered that the bird hr
flown, and that the officer original]
instructed to shadow him had been on
1protracted spree.
''"Pmsnoian, have you over been conPlctA
S" No, yodr Honor; I have always am~ploya
s first clan awerar..
h1oW to Live In Summer,
Clothing must be considered, for it
has much to do with our elasticity of
movement. It is as yet a point of dis
puto whether cotton stuffs are the best
wear, many approving of light woolens.
For women nothing is sweter in sum
mor than a linen dress; it is a pity we
do not patronize linen more for adults;
for children, cottons; for workingmen,
worsteds. The heavy suits of men are
weighing them down in summer, and
clothes of serge are far preferable to
those of thick woolen cloth. Very thin
silk is a cool wear. The heavily-laden
skirts of women impede the free action
of movement much, and should b sim
plified as much as possible for summer.
So also the headgear.
Infants, if at all delicate, should not
be allowed to go with bare feet; it often
produces diarrhoa, and they should al
ways wear a flannel band around the
stomach. Another important matter is
the changing of night and day linen
among the poorer classes. It is terrible
to think that a workingman should lie
down in the shirt in which ho has per
spired all day at his hot work. Let men
accustom themselves to good washes
every evening before they sit down to
their meals, and to changes at night,
tlt they may take up a dry shirt when
going to their hard day's work.
Frequent change of linen is abso
lutely necessary-anyhow, a night and
a day change, . This change alone would
help to stay the mortality amoug the
children, if accompanied with other
healthy measures, such as sponging the
body with a little salt and water. Where
tenements are very close, wet shets
placed against walls will aid to revivfy
the air and absorb bad vapor in rooms.
All children's hair should be cut short;
boy's hair may be cropped and girls'
hair so arranged by nets or plaits that
air passes freely around the neck.
Light head coverings are essential in
summer, for the head must be kept cool.
The most serviceablo dress is that which
allows air to pass freely around ydur
limbs and stops neither evaporation of
the body nor the circulation of the re.
freshing atmosphere, In summer you
may breathe freely and lightly, you can
not do so with your stomach full of un
digested food, your blood .full of over
heated alcohol, your lungs full of vitiat
ed air, your smell disgusted with nau
sous Scents, your system unable to
carry out the natural piocess of diges
tion. All the sanitary arrangements in
the world will do no good if we eat and
drink in such a fashion that we are con
stantly putting on fuel where it is not
needed, and tufling up our bodily
draught, as we would that of a heating
i appliance. Our ignorance and our bad
habits spoil the summer, that delightful
season of the year-nothing else.
1Hov Much to Eat.
Having tested a number' of meals in a
general way, eating more or less each
time, find out as near as may be what is
the proper amount for a meal. Begin
with a very light breakfast of ordinary
food, such as you have been accustomed
to, and note the number of liours You
can go without feeling a want of more
food. For a very light breakfast, say
one roll, a cup of coffee and a very small
piece of moat, three hours or less will
be found the limit. This is not offered
as a rule but as a suggestion, for it makes
a vast difference what you do daring
those throo hours. A given amount of
food will go further in manual labor
than in mnital labor, as brain work is
more exhausting than hand avork. The
next time try a little more, and in tfo
course of a dozen breakfasts youu will
Ilearn to judge p)retty closely whant you
require to carry on your wvork till the
hour of the next meal. Having found
out just what you need, never, on any
-consideration, take more. Never mind
how nice steak, how tempting any food
may be, shut right dowvn on the whole
Seating business the instant you have had
1enough. Too little can be repaired by
eating a light lunch before the next
meal. Too muclh can not be repaired,
and you must pay for indiscretion. In
rall this there must be plain common
r sense. Do not imitate the invalid who
1kept a pair of scales on the breakfast
a table to weigh his daily bread, Eat and
'be satisfied, and then stop.
Church~ Manners.
Be on time. No one has a right to
rt disturb a coingregation or a preacher by
~-being tardy.
e Never look around to see who is comn
-ing in when thme door opens. It diverts
g your own and other's attention from the
e exercises, and is discourteous to the
o eador,
oNever talk or whisper in church,
a especially after tigio exercises are open
,g ed.
tduring the sermon. Better to feed o'in a
sermon than to time it.
Never leani your head on thme p)ow rail
kbefore you, as thongh indifferent to the
n preacher.
tConform, if possiblc, in conscience,
k to thme usages of the chuuch in which
Le you worship-kneel, stand, how accord.
eO iNev manifest your disapprob~ation
.0 of wvhat is being 1maId, by unpleasant
it sounds, or signs, or by hastily leaving.
t Do not fidget, as though the servioc
3. were a weariness. Be quiet and decor..
ous to the very end.
it Do not put on your overcoat or adjusi
e your wrappings till aftelr the benedic.
n' tion.
d No gentleman over defiles a place ol
y worship with tobacco.
Never be one of a 'staring crowd about
the door or in the vestibule, before em
after service,
d Do nothing out of keeping with the
d time, place and purpose of a religione
.assamhlv.
The Younger and Elder Booth.
Booth is now forty-eight. He was
only nineteen when his fatljer died, but
ho had sCen the latter in some of his best
characters, and always considered him
one of the greatest tragedians of the
day. This is no doubt the case, but the
unfortunate man vas so utterly destroy
ed by strong drink that he never could
take that position to which lie was
naturally entitled. No engagement
could be relied on unless the manager
locked him up for the occasion, and
hence lie only found employment at the
cheap theatres, where people took their
chance. How strange to think of Booth
playing Richard III, in the Chatham
theatre to an audience made up of news
boys and other plebeians, who beheld his
grandest flights at twenty-five cents; pit
half-price. I have often paid my old
fashioned shilling for a seat in the latter
in order to see Booth thupder in the
crooked-baek tyrant, which was his
greatest role. Although deficient in
point of stature, his appearance was
very impressive, this being chiefly due
to his countenance, which was one of
tremendous power. His eyes wore very
large and rapidly expressive of the varied
passions which are represented on the
stage. They were finely set off by a
Grecian noso, but the latter was when
I saw it, marred by d blow which lie
had received from a fellow-actor in self
defense, and which may be thus ex
plained : Booth never played except
when under the influenco of brandy, and
hence lie was often dangerous. His
imaginary foes became real and his
sham fight sometimes had a murderous
appearance. On one occasion, when
'Pon Flyn was his antagonist, Booth
drove hin into the corner and was about
to run iiii through, but Tom warded off
the thrust and then knocked him down
with his fist. The play was at once
stopped, and Booth's ndse thenceforth
hore witness of this strange affray.
Eating With a Knife.
A subscriber says we have many
authorities on the subject, but I would
like to sco a sensible, intelligent opin..
ion as to how far the knife can be made
use of in eating, without one's being
considered ill-mannered." The short
est answer is best-not at all, in polite
society. But what our correspondent
perhaps means is : What sense or rea
son is there in the prohibition, by so
ciety, of the use of the kinfe in eating?
Thath, is a harder question ; but the
sufficient fact is that society doesn't
ineed to furnish reasonas In the realm
of etiquotte, whatever is, is right. As
a. matter of fact, it is doubtless alarm
ing or unpleasant to many people to
see a knife put to the mouth ; it sug
gests a p0ossible eut, and too nearly re
smelmble shoveling in the food. A man
may know that he will not cut him
solf, and delaire that lie lifts no more
food than his neighbor does on a fork,
bu t society says that it is ill bred, and
until the custom changes, people had
best conform, unless it is a matter of
collscielleo with them. As Hamerton
says, in a parallel caso, you may see no
reason why. you cannot come to the
dinner-table with your shooting boota
and jacket on, and bring your dog with
you, if you are clean and your dog well
bred. Very well. Society. will not
argue the point, nmuch less cotieedo it.
It will mply drop or taboo you. If it
is essential that a man shall cat with a
knife, or in his shooting jacket, or that
lie shall take up his plate in his hands,
or drink out of the bottle, or discard
both knife and fork on the plea that
"fingers were made before forks," he
hlad bettor (dine alone. That is tihe way
it. seems to us. Conformity is the best
wvisdom ml mimor uinessential matters of
custom and fasliion.
W1ild Sheep of the Sierra.
.In the months of Ma~y 'and June the
wild sheep of tile Sierra'bring forth their
lambs, im thme most solitary anid inaceess
11b10 crags, far above the nesting-rocks
of the eagle. I have frequently come
upon tile beds of the ewes and lambs at
an elevation of from twelve to thlirteen
thousand feet above sea level. These
beds are simply oval-shmapedi hollows,
pawed out among loose, disintegrating
rock-chips and sand, upon some sunny
sp~ot commanding a good outlook, anU
p~artially sheltered from the winds that
sweep those lofty peaks almost without
intermission. Such is the cradle of the
little mountaineer, aloft in the very sky:
reeked ini storms, curtained in clouds
sleeping in thin, icy air ; but wrapped
in his hlairy coat, and nourished by a
strong, warm mother, defended, from
thme talons of the eagle and teeth of the
sly coyote, tihe bonnmo lamb grows apace.
He soon learns to nibble time tufted
rock-grasses and leaves of thle white
spirmna; his hlorns begin to shoot, and
before summer is done lie is strong and
agile, aind goes forth with the flock,
wateihed b~y the same divine love thlat
tends tile mlor~o helpless human iamb in
its warm cradle by the fireside."
To K~eep Shaded Places Gr'een.
Especially in the front yards of dwell
ings, both im town and country, which
are much- shaded, we often see the
ground complletely bare, not a living
thing bomig perceptible. Sometimes
thlere are many nearly nude, straggling.
limbs lymm upon the ground or very
near it, which are unsightly and every
way worthless, that ought to be out
away. ThIns would give room for the
growing .liero of some plant or vine that
would be adapted to it, and which
would not only recover thme nakced spot
and make it a "living green," but would
be adding very much to tile general ap
pearance of the premises, The best vine
for thlis purpose is undoubtedly the per..
iwinkle. It wi~ll grow almost anywere
in tihe shlade if tho proper attenton is
given to it, but not otherwise. It Is a
beautiful vine and will densely cover the
ground, p~roducing nearly the whole
season a prett'y. blue .flower, Weeds,
however, are its deadly onciules. It oak
not fight them. Steadily they will on.
eroach until they drive away ou~r favorito
and occupy the field of battle. A little
help now and then, however, will defeat
the common enemy and allow us to eai
joy tile cool-looking, popular evergreen
fo~r many yearswithout rnawat