Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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-7 .9 ~be __ _ 2letatb, -2 TR1-WEEKLY EDITION. W1NNSBORO, S, C.. SEPTEMBER Jo, 1881. ESTABLISHED 1865. THE OLD FARCMECR'S ELEGY. On a green grassy knoll, by the banks of the brook, That so long and so often has watered his flock, The old farmer resta in his long anti last sleep, While the waters a low, lapsing lullaby keep. le has ploughed its last furrow, has reaped his last grain; No morn shall awake hitn to labor again. You tree, that with fragrance is filling the air, So rich with its blossoms, so thrifty and fair, By his own hand was planted ; and well didi lie say, I would live when its planter had mouldered away. lie has ploughed his last furrow, has reaped his last grain; No morn shall awake film to labor again. There's the well that he lug, with its waters so cold, With its wet, dripping butcket, so mossy and olud, No more from its depths by the patriarch drawn, For the " pitcher is broken," the old inan Is gone. lie has ploughed his last furrow, has reaped his last grain; No morn shall awake lilin to labor again. 'Twas a gloon-giving day when the old farmer died; The stout-hearted motrned, the affectionate cried; And the prayers of the just for his rest did ascentti, For they all lost a brother, a man and a friend. lie has plouglied his last furrow, has reaped )its last grain; No morn'shall awake him to labor again. For upright and honest the ci'a farmer was; Ills God he revered, he respected the laws; Though faineless lie lived, he has gone where his worth ' Will outahihe, like pure gold, all the dross of tilis earth. lie has ploughed his last furrow, ltgs reaped his last grain; No morn sha!' " wake him to labor again. )AFFOi)ILS HUSBANI). The sun had dropped behind the tall towers of St. George's twin-steepled church, the soft Juno twilight was set tling, like an impalpable veil of liquid amethyst, over all the little apartments, and Daffodil Grey stood at the window, carelessly toying with the geranium leaves, that gave out a sweet, pungent fragrance to the bouch of her fingers, and thinking-thinking! It was just six months, this day, that she was married-six months since she had left the old farm in Chester county, and caie to the great city to live. ''You'll be desperately homesick!" Auit Jooasta had said, with a solemn shako of the head. "Not with John!" she had rcsponded radiantly, "Just fany," groaned Aunt Jocasta, "exchanging all. these fields and hills for a city flat" - "Every one lives in flats nowadays," Daffodil had rotorted; "and John says I shall find things very convenient." "Humphi" said Aunt Jocasta; "I never was in love myself, but I've been told that people who are, would believe anything. I suppose John is law and gospel to you now!" "Of course," said -Daffodil, laughing. So ihe had married the young hero of her hopes and dreams, and gone to the great, crowded city to live. And the at had been Arcadia to her-that is, just at first, when the honey-moon was in its first glow, and all the world was transfigured with the light that shines through the h1alo of a wedding ring. But, of late, Mrs. Daffodil had not been quite ao happy. She had been crying, one night,when John camo home unexpectedly, and there was no time to dash away the tears. "My darling," he had ried aghast, "what is the trouble?" "Nothing, John-nothing!" she had answered. "Only-only it is so long since I placed iy feet on a sod of green grass. And I was thinking that the old orchard would be in blossom, just at this time; and the meadow under the sassafras 'tree would be all blue with early violets."' "Daffodil, are you homesiok?" "No, John-indeed, no!" she cried. "Get on your things," said Grey. "We'll go and walkin the park, and lie ten to the robin at the bird fancier's, and try to imagine ourselves back in thio rural distriets'again." But Daffodil trying to smile -tsj she tied her pink bonnet-strings, did not tell him of the long visit she had from old Mrs. Mudge, who declared that "she had al'ys loved John Groy as if lhe had been her own son," and had pro ceeded to edify his bride with a circumn stantial account of all the mischief he had gottenl into, all the love-tangles ini wvhieh he had been involved, all the half-angagomonts into which he hatd been drawn, until poor Daffodil felt as if her John Grey' and this gay Lothario must be two quiet different beings. "And we all supposed, my dear." said Mrs. Mudge, comfortably taking snuft', "that he was to marry Olive Dod worth the actress, wvhen he up and brought you home. Dear, dear! what flirts men are! Ain't they nowv, my dear?" "I-uppose so," said poor Dallodil, intent upon the stitches of hier st~rip of embroidery. "I hope you'll come and see me often," said Mfrs. Mudge, setting down her tea-cuip and~ baking upl her big red shawl. "I shall be very happy, t' said Daffo dil. "And we'll have ever so many nice confidenitial chats," said Mrs. Muitdge. "Yes," said Daffodil, faintly. And after Mrs. Mudge had gone away poor Daffodil sat and wondered what made her so wretched. She could hear some one moving about overhead. Some one had told her that a young artist had just rented the top floor of the Fontaine She wondered vagnely what he was like, ad whether, lie too, was a human butterfly lighting on every flower anid constant to none. She asked herself whether fat Mr. Smith, who went out from the suite of apartments belowv every day with a silk umbrella under his arm,dyed mustaches and a~ smoothly-shaven chin, had his amiable weaknesses likewise. "I almost wish," said Daffodil to herself, "that I had remained unmar ried. Nc I don't either! I-I don't know what I do. wish! So, woman-like, Daffodil had begun to ery. But the pleasant twilight walk in the park, and the melodious whistle of the robin at thle bird fancier's, had cheered hae up amain. for the time being. But she could not he blind to the fact that Johm was not with her so much as during the five weeks after their mar riAgo. Now and again of an evening he would be absent without a sufficient ox U80, and, with a smothered pang at her heart, Daffodil had thought of Olive Dodworth, the brilliant young actress, even then playing at one of the niior city theaters. "Does he care for her yet?" Daffodil asked horself; and there caie no satis factory answer to the query. And so it 'iappened that to-night, as she stood among the geraniums, looking out at the sunsot, she was not quite happy. "In old times," said this bride of six months to herself, "John was always home to take me for a walk in the twilight. He never thinks of it now. Were Aunt Jocasta and Mrs. Mudge right, after all? Was man a delusion, and life a dreary series of disappoint mentA? As these dispiriting reflections pass ed through her mind, she was startled by thq unexpected sound of a footstep on the floor-a footstep too light and elastic to be that of her husband. She turned, and was amazed to see, in the indistinct light, the tall figure of a beautiful young lady, richly dressed, and wearing such a Parisian bonnet as poor Daffodil had never seen before. "Pardon me for intruding," said the lady, with a royal air, "but are these Mr. Grey's rooms?" "They are," said Daffodil, summon ing all the dignity at her control, and secretly wondering if this might not be the bete noirc of her thoughts and fan cies-Miss Dodworth. "But I did not hear you knock." "I did not knock," said the nlony mous fair one, with hauteur. Daffodil colored: "I am Mrs. Grey," said she quickly. "Pardon me," said the lady, "I am Mrs. Grey. I suspected something .of this new order of things," wi-th a con temnptuous curl of her lip, "and I have came on from Chicago to counteract it." "Madame," said Daffodil, standing very erect, although she could feel her self trembling all over, 'you must be insane! I was married to Mr. Grey on the first day of last January." The lady laughed-a hard, mirthless laugh." "'Indeed!" said she. And'I was mar ried to him on the 6th of October, two years ago. Poor child!" as the pallor overspread Daffodil's countenance, "6I don't suppose you are to blame, but in this- hard world we have to auffer for one another's crimes. Where is he?" - "I-don't know," faintly admitted the bride. "Humph!" said the lady compressing her lips. "He is at his old tricks,I see. Well I can wait. You don't ask me to be seated, but I shall take that liberty without your permission." And she sat down, flinging back the folds of her rich India shawl, while Daf fodil watched her with silent dismay. Was this true? Had Joln Grey really deceived her? He whom she had loved so entirely, trusted so infinitely? If this was really so, there was no truth in all the world! The shadows gradually deepened; the clock on the mantel ticked an.busily as if it were running a race against time and still the two sat there, silent,speech less, each dreading, yet longing, to hear John Grey's footsteps on the stairs. At last lie came. Sitting in the dark, pot?" he cried, merrily, as he crossed to the mantel and lighted the gas-jet. "I must see your dear little face, for I have something to tell you which--" H~e checked hiimself ' abruptly, for at that moment he caught sight of the p~ale beautiful stranger in, the Parisian hat andl glistening Indian shawl. He turned to Daffodil. "Who is this lady," lhe asked. "'I do not know her," she answeored. "Do not ;you?" ''Never saw her before in all my life!" said Grey, in unfleigned amazement. Trho lady rose a little nervously. "'Is-this. gentleman your husbanid?" she said, the color varying on her cheek. "Hie is," Daffodil mechanically re p~lied. "There is some mistake," said the straiiger, with visible embarrassmeiit. "This is not the Mr. Grey I meani. My Mir. Grey is short anid dark,with a heavy beard- Richiard Richardson (Grey-andl The young hiusig"ud struck his hand on the table, as if an iDea hiad suddenly occurred to him. "'With a slight cast ini one eye?" said lie. "An artist, is lie not?" "Exactly!'' cried the Inldia-shalwled beauty. "He occupies the suite of rooms di rectly above us," said lie. ''He moved in last month." ''Then, said the lady, "'I have mis takeni the flat. Pray, pray"-to Daffo dlil-"forgivo imch" But Daffodil oxuld only laugh hysteri cally, and hide her head on her hus baind's shoulder. And not uuntil the door had been closed behind the strainger, (lid John Grey ex claim: "Poor follow! I have heard some thing of this. She torments the life out of him, with petty exactions and un founded jealousies. She follows him around the world like a Nemesis. I'm glad you are not like her, my pretty Daffodil!" And then lie wvent on to tell his wvifo howv he had ben working busily all this time to earn enough, by extra labor at his profession to buy a little one-storied cottage, in the suburbs of the city, with a tinmy garden attached, where there was an apple tree, a thicket of moss-roses all in bud, but a little summer house all braided over with glossy woodbino. "I signed the papers to-dlay, Daffodil,' said he. "We can move in next week, just in time for the roses and straw berries. D)ear one, I know you have been homesick for green grass and bird soiigs all this time, and 13ave longed a score of times to tell you of all that was in my minid; but it wvotild have spoiled this glad. surprise." And all that Daffodil conl4 say was: "Oh, JTohn-dear ,John-I am so happy!" / From sed11 t) Waterloo. From Sedan, the grave of the Third Empire, to Waterloo, the grave of the First, is but a short day's journey. Having left Sedan at 8 A. M., this morn. ing, I have already reached Les Quatre .Bras with four hours of daylight before Inc. Leaving the railway at Charleroi, I there took a oarriage and followed the poplar-lined highway which leads from Charleroi to Brussels, through Quatre Bras and Waterloo. It was by this road that Noy advanced, while Napoleon, also starting from Charleroi, took to the right, that leading through Flourus to Ligny. At Los Quatre Bras the high road from Charloroi to Brussels cuts that from Nivelles to Namur at right angles. Already on the evening of June 15, Ney's advanced guard commenced the attack on the allied position at Quatre Bras, which at that moment was defend ed by a ingle battalion of Orange Nas sauers, commanded by the gallant young Prince of Weimar, who did such good servioc on the English left at the battle of Waterloo. Had Noy continued his attack he must have carried the position, but his men were tired, and he believed that the post was defended by a strong force. When the attack was renewed the fol lowing morning the Prince of Weimer was strongly reinforced by Dutch and Brunswickers, whosc Duke, as all the world knows, was killed here at the hca of his troops. It was not till the early part of the afternoon that any English troops reached the scene of action, the first to arrive and stem the tide of the advancing French being the Reserve Division under Picton, from Brussells, consisting of Packe and Kemp's Bri gades. About 5 P. M. Cooke's Division of Byng's and Maitland's Brigades of Guards arrived, with Halkett's Brigade, all by the Nivelles road. No English cavalry arrived in time to take part in the action, during the earlier part of which the F1rench Lancers galloped clean through the allied position at Qua tro Bras, and nearly captured the Duke of Wellington. who had arrived at about 10 A. M., in advance of Picton's division. The action not having commenced at that hour, the Duke rode off by the Namur road toward Ligny to consult with Blucher, who mounted with the Duke into a windmill, whence they sur veyed Napoleon's disposition of his forces just before the commencement of the battle of Ligny. From about noon, June 16, to nightfall, the battles of Ligny and Quatre Bras were fought simultane ously, resulting in a French victory at Ligny, and a drawn battle at Quatre Bras, whore the English passed the night on the field of battle, the French retir ing on the village of Frasnes. Had Na poleon advanced on Quatre Bras at early dawn on the 17th, and had Ney renewed hia attack simultaneously, the English must have been taken between the two fires and the position carried, As it was, Napoleon failed to put his army in motion from Ligny till the afternoon of the 17th, whiclh gave the English ample time to retire leisurely on Waterloo. Captain Siborne, in his well-knowvithis tory of the Waterloo campaign, relates that so high was the rye at the battle of Quatre Bras, that the English infantry were completely concealed b~y it. I have just meadured the height of the finest crop of rye I ever beheld growing on the Waterloo road, and found it to be seven feet high. In another letter from thme field of Waterloo, written on the following (lay, our corresp~ondent says: In his admirable lectures on the Wa terloo camp~aign, Colonel Chesney is, as far a I know, the first English writer who doces full justice to the importance of the part played by the Prussians at Waterloo. .As you approach the flel from Quatre Bras, about a mile before reaching La Belle Alliance, you perceive on your right, lying about 1000 yards off the high road, a village half concealed in a wooded hollow, from which the church spire emerges conspicuously. T1hie name of this village is Plancenoit, and round that church took pla1cC the fiercest and bloodiest fighting which June 18 witnessed. Between 4.30 P. M. and 8.30-i. c., in four hours-the Prus sians lost more men than the English dluring the whole day, the Prussian lose in killed and wvounded being about 6,300, that of the English, exclusive of the allies, 6,100. Thlere were, in fact, two h)attles ol Waterloo-the battle of Mount St. Jear and the battle of Plancenoit-and Na. poleon had to (10 with two distinci armies. It is commonly believed iii England that the Prussians merely canmc up at the close of the day, and assisted the English to crown their victory ; butI it is tihe fact that Butlow'a corps cam< seriously into action by 4.80 P. M., ani that twelve out of the twenty-four hat. talions of the imperial Guard, b~esidel Loban's corps and seycral other divisions, wore detached to Plancenoit, on th< IFrench extreme right, at the very mo. mont they were most required to takt parnt in the assault of the Allied positior on the ridge of Mount St. Jean in front, From that ridge of Mount St. Jean, wheore I am now writing in~ the calm o: an early summer's morning, the villag< of Plancenoit is quite invisible, and em tile day of, the battle the English wver< quite unaware of the earlier stages of th< Prussian fighting there. It wa not til Ziethen's Hussars coming from Wavre touched the extreme English left on the Chain road, at about 7 P. M., that the Duke of Wellington ~received the wel come intelligence of the arrival of the Prussians on the field. Compared with that of Sedan, the battlefield of Waterloo is on a wonder fully small scaile, and easily to be appro londel. At Sedan the circumference of the field is at least fourteen miles, comi prising about. a dozen villages, completely hidden from each other by intervening heights. At Waterloo the whole fields, exclusive of the village of Planconoit., may be taken in at a glance. The French position on the ridge of La Belle Alli anee was but 1,200 yards from that of the English on the ridge of Mount St. Jean, and the extreme length of both positions, from east to west, i. c., from Sniohaim to Hougomont, was about 2,500 yards. The intervening valley, which is but a slight depression, was converted into a quagmire by the tre inendous rainfall on the afternoon and evening of the 17th, the ground being impassable by cavalry and artillery in the early part of the day of the 18th. The state of the ground was extremely disadvantageous to Napoleon's attack, which was thereby delayed till 11 A. M. That the Fronoh, with a total force of about 70,000 men, should have failed to force the strong position on which the English, nearly equal to themselves in numbers, were posted in front, haviig at the same time to detach about a, third of the strength to meet. the 35,000 Prussians who fell on their right flank and took part in the fight of Planconoit, with 40,000 more Prussians arriving later on the field, cannot surely be con sidered any reproach to French valor. A Leoch Fartm,. In 1841 Mr. Witte, established a small leech farm in Kent Avenue, Wil liamsburg, L. I. In course of time this small establishment was abandoned, and one of thirteen acres was established near Newton, L. I.. and to him the writer is indebted for the following in formation and description of the only leech farm in America. The breeding ponds consist of oblong squares of one and a half acres each. The bottoms of thc:,e ponds are of clay, the margins of peat. In June the leeches begin form ing their cocoons on the peat margins of the pond. The greatest onemies to the young leeches are musk rats, water rats, and water shrews, who dig the cocoons out of the soft peat breeding margins. Next to rats and shrews is overheating of the peat or the water of the pond. In fact, nothing is so fatal to leeches as a too high teniperature. Mr. Witte says he has had leeches frozen in solid ice, but by slowly dissolved the ice and gradually increasing the temperature of the wader the leeches sustained no injury. The depth of the water in the ponds during the summer is three feet; in winter time the depth of water increased to avoid freezing. The leeches are fed every six nonths on) freshl blood p~laecd ini thin lineni bags, which are suspended in the water. TPho leeches, as soon as they smell the blood, alseembnhle from all parts of the pond, aand attacehinlg themselves to the outside of the blag, suck the dissolving coalgulated blood throughl thle lineni. Digestion pro coeds very slowly with the leech, during which time tile blood remnaing undigest ed in tihe stomach of the leech is in a fluid state, as if taken ini. The exe mental deposits are oif a grass-green color. The bost substance for packing loeches in is tihe peat of their natural p)onds made into a staif mud. Water containing tanninl, tannic acid, limuo,salt, or birakishi water, must be guarded against always; ironl is not objectionable, but is an1 adviant age in smnall qjuanatities. Thela demanad for ileeche in the last fewv years hlas somlewhlat fiallon off in tile Eastern and Southern States. The Western States and1( California are no0w the heanviest buyers. Mr. Witte's sales alone average a thousand a day. The numiber oif leeches impor'ted into the United States almouints to about thirty tiacusand yearly. The custom of strippiang aand salting leeches, to cause them to (disgorge after haaving bleen applied, has passed away, as many welli established cases have oc curred of infectious diseases having been commnunicated oil the app)aication of the same leech to a seconad p~arty. A very p)opular error' exists that, a leech when apiplied takes only the hiad 1blood (what ever that may lie) and rejects the good; thais is a miatako. With a leech blood 1s 1)1o0(, be It thme cold blood( of a fish or the warm 1)10ood of a human being, no matter howv diseased that human being may be. So long aas blood is not tainted or p~utridl the leech will thrive on it. A friend of mind1, whlo was the p~rop~rietor of a large leechl-breeding establishment at the foot of tihe H-artz Mounitaina,whlen wishling to foed his leeches, was ill the habit of hiring poor laborers, at six cents per (lay, to stand in the water for half an hour nearly up to thleir thighs, that the leeches mighlt obtain a full gor ging of human b)lood. In tihe marshy lands of Roumania the wild leechea are captured by means of men01 entering the water and allowing thle wild leeches to fagen on to thleir naked abodies. Tile lecel fishers then strip~ Saved by Mernads. Some time ago a colored female adver tised in the Richmond papers to find her mother. She claimed to have just es caped from Cuba. She represents that her name is Rosa Brooks, alias Grandi son, the last name being given her from the family name of .her former owners. Sixteen years ago, she says-just before the close of the late war-her young mistress, then living in this city, married a Mr. Grandison, of Havana, Cubia. They moved to his home, and she (Rosa), being only one year of age, was taken with them, and thus snatchied from the very threshold of emancipation, that soon followed. She grew ill) in the ser vice of her new master and his family, and some time in June last became in volved in a difliculty with one of the children that came nigh losing her life. It seems that in the altercation with the child she lost her temper and in an un lucky moment slapped its jaws. She says her act. was considered such a high crime that 'the Queen" was informed of it and her Royal Majesty decreed she should (lie. She was seated in the kit chen the iext day when the Queen, in all her pomp and pride, entered, and, seizinig a large carving-knife, began sharpening it for the dread execution. Making one desperate effort for her life she sprang through the door, scaled the walls of the city and phinged into the ocean. Her struggle with the waves had scarcely well begun when the royal trools inl pur-suit fired upon her and she was wounded in seven places. Worn out with her fatiuiing run and exhaust ed with the loss of blood, she continued to battle for life, when, having swam some nine miles (being seven hours in the water), and on the point of giving upl) the ghost, she was rescued by a hand of mermaids. These fairy creatures, she represent9, bore her to their homes in the rocky caverns along the senahore and showed her every attention, nursing her until sie had entirely recovered; that they live like ordinary human be ings and are as gentle and kind as possi ble. When she was well they took her out into the ocean and placed her upon1 a vessel bound to Galveston, at which port she arrived safely and thence made her way to Richnioid inl search of her mother, Sarah Brooks. She is a good talker and has an air (f earnestness about her and dresses very neatly. She proposes giving an exhibition of her swimming abilities aid says that she will swim inl the river for some six or seven consecuttive hours. Recreations in Ancient Times. The Assytians and Greeoks had tri monthly holidays, besides annual revels, and great national festivals at longer in tervals. In ancient Etruria every new month was ushered inl by a day of merry making in honor of a tutelary deity; the patricians and plebeianis of republi can Rome had their field days; the fes tivals of the seaons united the pleasure seekers of all classes, And even the slaves had their titurnalia weeks when some of their privileges were only limited by their capacity of enjoyment, In the first centuries of tihe Roman empire, when the growth of the cit 'es and thu scarcity of game began t~o circumiscribe the p~rivate paistimeis of the pocorer classes, the rulers themselves p~rov-idled tihe means of p~ulic amusemenl01t5; att thec death of Septimus (A. D). 2]1), the captital alone had six free amphitheatres and1( twelve or fourteen large public baths, where the p~oorest could ntot complJlaint about thle half-cent entrance fee t~o the luxurious thermer1. Thle cirrennen, or pubihlie games, were by no means11 contfined to the gladi atorial combi ats thlat h ave exercised the cloquence of our Christian moralists; dramnatic entert ainmtenta trials of strength and the exhibition of outlanidishl cuiriosi ties, seemt to have been as popular as the grand~est prIize. fightts,mtless the comn batants were intternational chlampi~ons. And it would be a great mistake to suip pose tat only the wealthy capital couldl afford to amuse its citizens at the pulic expense; from Gaul to Syria ever~y totwn had a circus or two, every largor village an arena, a free bath, and a pub~lic gym nasium. The Colosseuma of Vespasian seated eighty thousand sp~ectators, but was rivaledl by the amph11 itheatres of Narbonne, Syracuse, An tiochi, Berytus and Thessalonica. Children, married1 women, old men and mnan~y tradles ulniom had their yearly carnivals, and during the celebration of the Olympian and Capitolino gnes and various local fesn tivals, event strangers enjoyed the free' dom of thte hauger townts. The exp~ortation of p~earl shtells is like. ly to receive at stitmutlus through a receni shipment of ai samle~ lot of thirty bush. els from Baltimore to a manumfacturiung establishment in Paris. The she~lls ar< collected on thte southern shores of Cal. ifornia and carried on fruit btoats tk Santa Barbara, whence agents stationel at thtat point ship them to easten con, sigtees. They vary greatly itn valge, atnd many of thtose gathered are subse quontly rejected as worthtless, owing tc their htaving become sunb~urnt or brittb from exposure. In the centre of ecd shell is an excrescence differing in hm11 from the remainting surface, which hai a special value, and is separately preC served for ornatmental purposes whet the rest of the shell is cut up for but tonu In Olden Thine Pa)er-halngings were originally just what their name indientes-viz., strips of paper suspended from the ceiling in such a manner as to cover the imper fections of the walls. They were used exclusively in the houses of the rich ; thb poor man in his hut had no such device, but must needs patch a hole to keep the wintds away. The carpets of our forefathers once consisted of rushes, among which the dogs hunted for the bones that land been thrown upon the floor. In England, ono end of the hall was the kennel for the hounds, and above it the porch for hawks. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the host at table used to hold the joint of beef with one hand and the carving-knifo with the other, transferring the meat to the plates of his guests with his fingers, as forks wore not yet in use. Those who first adopte( forks were much ridiculed. .Som said the Bible was opposed to it, and it was an insult to the Almighty to use a fork whent le had given them fingers. The art of making glass is of high an tiquity, but it belonged to modern inl genuity to develop the value of the in venltion, and to apply it to a multitude of important, and in some cases indis pensable, uses. Not many centuries ago, window-glass was only found in tho houses of the very rich ; its .usc began in palaces. For i long time it was so scarce that at Alnwick Castle, in 1567, the glass was ordered to be taken out of the windows and laid ilp in safety when tihe lord was absent. There was another luxury, so expen-| sive that for more than two thousand years it remained completely above the reach of the poor, and none but the wealthy could indulge in its use. We mean cotto cloth! The material of which the cloth was made was both plenty and easily obtained, as is the case with glass ; but the cost of mamt facturing made it very dear. If a Grecian lady could awake from her sleep of two thousand years, her astonishiment would be unbounded to see a simple country girl clothed with a calico dress, a muslin kerchief, and a colored shawl ! Within the past one hundred years, machinery has been inveited which las made printedl cotton so perfect, so plenty, and 5o cheap, that the humble servant-girl cal wear a better calico gown than Cleopatra ever saw I When the whole stock of a carpenter's tools was valued at one shilling, and consisted altogether of two lroadaxes, all adze, a square aitdi a spoke-shave, we must expect to find rough work and ione but rough dwelling-houses ; when there were no chimtneys, aud the fire was laid against. the wtll, with the smoke to issue out at the roof, the door, or the winadow, and the people slept. on straw pallets, with a log of wood for ia pillow, we naturally expeot rough manners, unwholesone food, and a great lack of tidiness. This was the condition of the Eaglish people in the reign of Edward III. Even the nobility went without ehairs and tables, and sat 111o11 the chests that cotntainecd their clothes and1( Jinuen. The skill cof other tratcdes was ont a level with that cof thie carpenter, and agriculture wvas as low ini the scale as any of the arts. The first sawmaill ina England was built lay a Duntchmana, but the op~positiont of the anon who worked by hnad was so great that lie had to pull1 it d1own'. lIt 1767 aniother was crteeted, but a mtoba tore it downa. So pr'ogr'ess has every where had to oyercomte obsnta cles. In 1390, some friars ini Switzer land wished to build a windinill, to save the labor of grindling corn by hnaid ; but a neighboring landlord, who had bought the country ar'outnd, forbadce them, be 'ause, lie said, lhe ownecd the windcs. TIhe bishuop wa appeaalecd to, wvho said that the wvinds belonagedl to the church anmd could ntot be used. A writer, of good author'ity, speakintg of the times of Hfenr'y VITI., says there is noC douta that the average dur'ationa of huan life was, at thtat pecriodl, not one-half as long ats it is at the presenit day. Th'o kings andac nobility cof a fewv centuries ago possessed their crownis and high-soun ad ing titles ; butt there is ntot, in the Unaited States, a pr'51osperous nmechiaic, possessing a fair dlegreec o~f refied taste and1( education, who would desire to cx change his mannter of life andc living for theirs, so far as the contveniences of life are conceernedci 1Thus- it is that art is over at work, breaking dlowna the barriers which standc between the rich and the poor, anid bringing both classes more aind more toward a common level-a 'at by degradimng the wealthy, but lby CxI u ing both classes to a higheir s tancdard of mtorali ty, refluemnat and educatiotn. HSkuaI Monsrement. Professor Flower, the welal-known En glish anatomist, has published seome fur ther results of his researches wvithi refer entco to thme hiumant skull, lie statesi that the largest normal skull lhe hats ever measured wats as much as 2,075 cubic conttimeters; the smtallest, 960 cubic coni timetors, thtis belonging to one of those piecutlar people in the center of Ceylon whto are now nearly extinct. The Ilarg est average capacity of any human head Iho has measured is that of a race of long flatheaded people on the west coast of A frica. The Laplanders and Esquimaux, though a veysmall pecople, have very large skulls, to latter givimg an averago measurement of 1,546. The English skitll, of the lower grades, shows 1,542 ; the Japanese, 1,486; ChineCse, 1,424; modern Italian, 1,475; ancient Egyptiani, 1,464; Hindnos a. LR. Table Etiquette. There are a great many people who be. have well otherwise, but at table they do things that if not absolutely oulre and en aemble, are at least putnisimo and sinie die. It is with a view to elevating the popu lar taste and etherealizing, so to speak, the manners and customs of our readers, that we give below a few hints upon ett quette. If by writing an article of this kind we can induce one man who now wipes his hands on the table cloth to come up and take higher ground, and wipe them on his pants, we shall feel amply repaid. If you cannot accept an invitation to dinner, do not write your regrets on the back of a pool check with a blue pencil. This is now regarded as 'icoo/wet. A simple note to your host informing him that your washerwoman refuses to re lent is sufficient. On seating yourself at the table draw off your gloves and put them in your lap under your napkin. Do not put them in the gravy, as it would ruin the gloves and cast a gloom over the gravy. If you have just cleaned your gloves with benzino, you might leave them out in the front yard. If you happen to drop gravy on your knife-blade, back near the handle, do not run the blade down your throat to remove the gravy, as it aight injure your epiglot tie, and is not considered embonpoint, anyway. When you are at dinner do not take up a raw oyster on your fork and playfully ask your host if it Is dead. Remarks about death at dinner are in very poor taste. Pears should be held by the stem and paled gently but firmly, Dot as though you were skinning a dead horse. It is not bon ton. Oranges are held on a fork while being pulled, and the facetious style of squirting the juice Into the eye of your hostess is now au levoir, Stones in cherrie or other fruit should not be placed on the table cloth, but slid quietly and unostentatiously into the pocket of your neighbor or noiselessly tossed un der the table. If you strike a worm in your fruit do not call attention to it by mashing it with the nut-crakor. 'I his is not only uncouth, but it is regarded in the best society as blase and excedingly vice versa. Macarom should be cut into short pieces and caten with an even, graceful motion, not absorbed by the yard. la drinking wine, when you get to the bottom of your glass do not throw your head back and draw in your breath like the exhaust of a bath tub In order to get the last drop, as it engenders a feeling of the most depressing melancholy among the guestr. After eating a considerable amount do not rise and unbuckle your vest strap in order to get more r3om, as it Is exceeding ly au fait and dishabille. If by mistake you drink out. of your fin ger-bowl, laugh heartily and make some facetions remark which will change the course of conversatiou and renew the Iriendly feeling among the members of the party, Ladies should take but one glass of wine at dinner. Otherwise there might be dll culty in steering the male portion of the procession home. Do not make remarks about the amount your companion' has eaten. If the lady who is your companion at table, whether she be your wife or the wife of some one else, shioul eat quite heartily, do not offer tq pay your host for hi loss or say to her, "Great Scott! I hope you will not kill yourself because you have the opportunity," but be polite and gentlemanly. even though the food supply be cut o1f for a week. If one of the gentlemen should drop a raw oyster into his bosom and he should have trouble in fishing it out, do not make facetious remarks about it, but assist him to finid it, lbughing heartily all the time. liroad Tires for WVhools. Moderately broad wheels are prefer able to narrow tires for use of heavy wagons. To run in iiarrowv ruta a wagon with broad tires would not lbe desirable, yet in our opinioni tires throe and a half' iniches in widthi wvould prove of easier dIraughit than those measuring two inches wide. Of coursc the load is no heavier with the use of the wide tire, but is dis tributedi over ia surface of three and a half inches ini place of two inches. Tho resistance wold( b)0 ab)out the samo in both cases, though in the case of the wvide tire distributed over nearly double the surface. The depression cnused by the broad tires would not exceed one0 half that caused by the narrow ones. This cutting made b~y the narrow tires increases the draught to an extent far boyond thme common estimate. As the cuttinig upi of the roads is lessened through the use of broad tires, the cost of the~ir maintenance is considerably di muinishied. This important p~rinlciple is so far recognized in England that a less rate of tolls is exacted from teams wvith broad whoels than fronm those with nar row tires, thus paying a p)remium on the use of broad tires. For farm purposes broad tires are decidedly preferable to narrow wheels No one cares to have his grass lands cut up b~y wheels if it caun b)e avoided-an injury which is more likely to be inflicted by broad than by narrow wheels. A team supplied with the broad tires will draw a load of ma nure with far greater ease over fallow ground than that with the narrow tires, b~y reason of the diminished amount of outtinig in the ground. The question of broad and narrow tires appears simple enough at- first sight, but it has long been our Opinion that whatever will tend to improv'o the condition of our roads without increasing the expense, that will reduce the labor of horses, and thereby lesson a very serious eosat, ought to en gage the attention of muen capable of solving such a problem. A year ago an attempt was made i the legislature of this State to regulate the width of the wheels of heavy vehicles, but the bill was defeated by those who should have known hetter.