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TRI-WERKT Y EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., SEPTEMBER 13, 1881. ESTABLISHED 1865. H e LEADS US ON. Ile leads us on, By paths we did not know: Upward He leads us, though our steps be slow, Though oft we faint and falter by the way, TI'hough storms and darkness oft obscure Lhe day, Yet when the clouds are gone We know Ile leads us on. He leads us on - Through all the unquiet years; Past all our dream-land hopes and doubts and fears, Ile gulides our steps. Through all our tangled inaze Of sin, of sorrow, and o'erolouded days, We know iHs will Is done; And still le leads us on. And he, at last, After the weary strife, After the restless fever we call life, After the dreariness, the aching pain, The many struggles which have proved in vain, After our tolls are past Will give us rest at last. THE NEIGIIBOl'S 1BAIRN. When, a year ago, we produced at-the Lyceum, as a first piece, the old Scotch drama of "Cr'amond Brig," the various members of the Company playing in the piece had their choice of wherewithal to wash down their "heed and harrigle'" of which, by the way, over a hundred were consumed during the run-and the miller's supper became nightly jollity, except, perhaps, to the Scotch nobility and the King's huntsmen, who, with watery mouths and eager eyes, crowded the wings, forbidden by the irony of dramatic fate to enter upon the scene intil the supper had bnen cleared away. This piece had reminded me of an in cident which came. under my notice a good many years ago. In the off season of a large provincial theater, in which I was stock actor, I took an engagement in a small town, then known as one of the most thriving seaports of the North. The salary was little; the parts were long, and there was not much opportu nity for gaining renown. However, it < was better than remaining idle, as at the worst, the amount of debt to be ac cumulated was minimised. The mana ger was not a bad fellow, and having i been a good actor in his time, was only 1 too glad to be surrounded by a class of actors whose services lie could only ob tain by the opportunity aflorded by the bright summer-in those palmy days the darkest and wintriest season to the airy comodian or the thoroughly legiti mate tragedian. Our opening bill consisted of "Cra mond Brig," "Lord Darnley," "Wallace the Hero of Scotland," and "Gilderoy, the Bonnie Boy ;" in all of which I played, besides contributing my share in the 'Nrtional Anthem," which was right loyally and fondly sung by the en tire strength of the Company. After the rehearsal of "Cramnond Brig," our jolly manager said: "Now, boys, I shall stand a real sup per to-night; no pasteboard aid parsley, but a real sheep's head and a little drop of real Scotch." A tumult of ap plause. The manager was as good as his word, for at night there was a real head well equipped with turnips and carrots, a'nd the "drop of real Scotch." The "neighbor's bairn," an important character in the scene, came in and took her seat as usual beside the miller's chair. She was a pretty, sad-eyed, in telligent child of some nine years old. In the course of the meal, when Jock .Howison was freely passing the whisky, she leaned over to him and said:. "Please, will you give mnc a little ?" He looked surprised. She was so earnest in her request that I whisper'ed to her: "To-morrow, perhaps, if you want it very much, youl shall have a thimble ful." 'To-morrow night came, and, to my4 amusement, she produced from the pocket of her little plaid frock a bright pieceo of brass, and held it out to me1. I said, "What's this ?" "A thimble, sir." "But what am I to do with it ?" "You said you would give me a thinm bleful of whisky if I wanted it, and I do want it." This was -said so naturally that the audience laughed and applauded. I looked over to the miller and found him with the butt end of his knife and fork on the table and his eyes wide open gaz ing at us in in astonishment. Hlowever, we were both experieniced enough to paIss off this unrehearsed effect as a p~art of the piece. I filled the thimble, and tihe child took it to her little "creepy" stool beside the miller. I watched her and presently saw her tuirn hler back to the audience and pour it into a little half-penny anu11ff box. She covered the b~ox with a bit of1 paper anid screwed on tihe lid, thua mnak ing the box pretty wator-tighlt, anid puiti it in her pocket.1 When thle .curtain fell, ouir manager1 camno forward and patted the child's head. "Well, my little girl," aid lhe, "you] are quite a genius ! Your gag is about the best thing in the picce. We must have it every night. But, my chil, you mustn't drinik the whisky. No, 110 that wouild never do." "Oh, sir, indeed I won't ; I give you my word, I won't!" she said, quite earn- *1 estly, anud ran to her dressing-room. "Oramond Brig" had an unprecedent edl run of siit nights, and the little lady always got her thimbleful of whisky and her round of applaulse. And each time' I noticed she corked up the former safe hyi the suf box. I was curious as to ' what she could possibly want with the pirit, and who she was, and where she ,ame from. I asked her, but she seemed io unwilling to tell, and turned so red, bhat I did not pres; but I found out that I was the old story-no mother, ani a .runken father. Still, it was strange. What could she want with the whisky-a childlike her? It could not be for the drunken father. I was completely at fault. I took a rancy to the little thing, and wished to thom her secret, for a secret I felt sure hfiere was. After the performance I saw ny little lady come out. Poor little 3hild I there was no mother or brother t Lo see her home. She hurried up the % treet, and turning into the poorest I puarter of the town, entered the common itair of a tumble-down old house. I rollowed, feeling my way the best I could. She went up and up, till in the very top flat she entered a little room. A handful of fire in the grate revealed a ikly boy, some two years her junior, who crawled toward her from where he was lying before the fire. "Cissy, I'm glad your home," he said. "I thought you'd never come." She put her arms around him,laid the c :oor little head on her shoulder, and , Look him over to the fire again, trying 1 to "omfort him as she went. "Is the pain very bad to-night, Wil- C lie ?" "Yes." A sadder ' Yes," I never ieard. "Willie, I wish I could bear the pain or you." "It's cruel of father to sond me out in t Ahe wet; lie knows how bad I am." "Hush I Willie, hush I iie might hoar on1."1 "I don't care I T don't care I I wish f (en would kill me at once.'' The reckless a)andon of the child's lespair was dreadful. "Hush I hush I he i our father, and :e mustn't say such things I" This brough her fast falling tears. Then 1he said, "Let me try and make the paim t )etter." The boy took off his shirt. The girl leaned over and put her arms I iround him, and kissed the shoulder, a ,he then put her hand into her pocket i ild took out the snuff box. . "'Oh, Willie, I wish we hait more, so n hat it might cure the pain." - Having lighted a dip candle, she I 'ubbed the child's rhoumatic shoulder r with a few drops of spirit, and then cov- ( )red up the little thin body, and, sitting i efore the fire, took the boy's hieati I )n her knee, and began to sing him to I Ileep. I took another look into the room, t hrough the half-open door ; my foot c 3reaked ; the frightened eyes mot mine. i I put my fingers on my lips and crept c Lway. But, as I began to descend the stair, I I met a drunien man ascending-slip- i >ing and stumbling as 1he came. He ilipped and stumbled by me and entered ; he room. I followed to the landing un- E oticed, and stood in the dark shadow 1 )f the half.open door. t A hoarse, brutal voice growled, "What - re you doing there ? get up !" "I can't father, Willie's head is on my 0 "'Get up !" She laid the boy's head on the floor, illowed it in her little shawl, and stood1 'Father, Willie is very sick! you ought o try to ge't himi cured." "Shut up. If I hoar another word I'll nake you and him too keep yourselves niiet." And the brute flung himself onI is bed, muttering to himself in his )runken semi-oblivion, "'Cure him, in-i teed I Not if I know it. That's not tho ray to get the money ; his cough is :orth a lot alone. Cure him, indeed I Tot likely I" The black-hearted scoundrel! The girl bowed her head lower and ovr. I could not bear it. I entered the ~oom. The brute was on the bed al-1 onady in his boesotted sleep. The child tole up to mue, and in a half-frightened whisper said, ''Oh, sir, oughtn't peopl)1 o keep secrets if they know them ? I hlink 'they ought if they are other ecple's." This with the dignity of a nueen. I could not gainsay her ; so I said, as ~ravely as I could, to the little woman, ~ 'The scret shall be kept, but you must i 8sk me if you want anything." She bent ~ ver, suddenly kissed my hand, and I i oent down the stair. The next night she was shy in coming ~ or the whisky, and I took care that she C iad good measure.t The last night of our long run of six f iights she looked more happy than I ' iad ever scoon her. When she came for he whisky she held( out the thimble, ~ ud whiispered to me, with her poor, ~ )ale lps trembling: ''You need only I )rotendl to-night." "'Why ?" I whispered. "Boanse h)o doesn't want it now. lie's dead!" There is no time in a mani's life when ic is so great as when lhe cheerfully ~ ownV to the necessity of his position, 11 na makes the best of it.t As the soil, howvever rich it may be, r ~anniot 1)e productive without culture, r 10 the mind, without cultivation, can I oever produce good fruit. Obligation is a ponderous roll of can as which Love spreads aloft into a tent wherein he delighto to dwelJ, Kate Shelly The story of Kate Shelly's heroic ex >loit to save a passenger train on the forthwestern Railway in Iowa, is full of 'omantic interest. On the night of the .8th of July there was a fearful storm. Lle current of the river was a raging orrent. The surging waters washed ho banks and destroyed the foundations if the bridge across the stream. Clouds of inky blackness shut out the light of omet, moon and stars. The occasional lashes of lightning only served to ron Ler the sceno hideous. At intervals the >eals of thunder broko in on the roar of he mad waters and the moaning of the vind. There were no friends or neigh >ors near. Kato Shelly and her widow id mother were in their cheerless shanty lone on that fearful night. They thought of the time when their protector was tilled in the discharge of his duty as a ailroad operative. They were alone in lie world, and they drow close together. Choy had no protector now but God. E'hey knelt and prayed to him. There was a noise,a crash-something ,cry different from the fall of ia tree or a ischarge of lightning. It was the fall of an engino over the embankient, Kate Rhelly took a lantern and went out to rave the tempest. The wind blew out Ler light; the rain drenched her scanty lothing. Sometimes her steps were 0uided by the flashes of lightning, and t other times by the sense of touch. At ength she reached the scene of the vreck. Au engineer who had saved him elf by catching hold of a branch of a ree made his voice heard through the uniult of the winds and waters. He was lie only survivor from the freight train. uis companions were crushed by the ailing engine or drowned in the swift lowing, deep waters. They had met lie fate of her father-died in the dis harge of duty. Kate Shelly did not re anin long at the scene of the disaster. lhe did not stay to give aid to an ac Iuaintance who could sustain himself ill relief could be obtained. She did tot return to her mother. She knew liat anl express passenger train was iearly due and that it could only be aved from destructson by conveying in ormation to a telegraph office. There vas no one to convey it but herself. chre ,was a telegraph office at Boone. in one side of the river where she was; mit it was five miles away, and the oute to it lay through a wilderness. She ould walk five miles through a wilder ess, even with the wind blowing like a turricane and the rain falling in torrents, ut she could not reach the place in ime to give the alarm and save the rain. There was another telegraph office ,t Moingona, only a mile distant. But ii the space of that mile was a bridge vor four hundred feet long, over a river vhich presented the appearance of the Tiagara. It was not made for human ect to tread. Its only covering was ties ud rails. Kate Shelly did not hesitate. lhe saw there was no choice of routes. Ihe took the road that led over the >ridge. On that bridge, fifty feet above lie watery abyss, she endeavored to valk, but the wind prostrated her. She 7raaped the timbers and saved herself. 2hen on her hands and knees she made icr way aoross. She was in momentary xpectation that the express train would ome dashing across the prairies and url her into eternity. On her knees lie crawled and prayed; the llood from Ler wounded limbs stained her clothing nid the timbera to which she clung. She cached the shore lin safety, and forget. ing her weariness and exhaustion, ran ualf a mile to a telegraph office. Almost reathless she told her story to the as onished operators, and fainting, fell uto the arms of one of them. An alarm ma sent over the wires. The train and 11 its passengers wvere saved by the Lroism of this brave girl. How to Treat the Out. Lord Granville gave an amusing ac.. ount of the diversity of counsel which na more than once added to the torment f gout. At Rome he was inundated vith prescriptions not only in English nid Italian, but in French and German, mid oven in Russian. The Cardinal ecretary of State was good enough to ive him seime advice based upon his wn experience ; a northern foreign iminister gave him exactly the opplosite dvice. In London, in the same way, in the announcement of an attack lie is nuched by receiving weekly, anid eve aihy and hourly, letters of advice of an nfinito variety, Hie ought to drink thisky, lie ought to drink claret, he uight to adhere to the most rigidl teto ilism. He had been advised to live encroushy, and lie had been advised inmost to starve himself, and one genitle ian advised him to obtain a completc et of artificial back teeth. This is the xpoerience of all of us, but the same ex >rionce aplhies to other matter besides cealth. About marriage, about the ducationi of children, bu money lie variety of advice is just as distract gas it is about the gout. In all of hem, and in health especially, it is safe a assume that every prop~ositioni which laims to be of universal fitness must be ntrue. Any layman can see for himself hat half the blunders of the doctors rise from thinking that the same treat lent must be good for thme same disorder ai every case. That steady moderate xorcise is good for ovev.ybody, male nd female, is almost the one single riaxim of universal applenation in the rhole OSekd of hygIonios, Doctored Drinks. The following receipts for the mani facture of whisky, brandy, gin, lager beer, etc., are furnished by a liquor dealer of Brooklyn. They are what are used by distillers, liquor dealers, and componiders, and if we should give the quantities of each, which we have in our posmssion, any one could make their own spirituous and malt liquors. Read the following, and drink no more : Bourbon or ryo whiskey is manufac tured with high wines, commonly called fusel-oil wlakey, made to-day and drank three days after ; contains also vinegar, syrup, oil of Bourbon, water, French coloring, blte-stone, and other poison ouis ehemicals. Cost from 90 cents to $1 per gallon ; retails for $5 to $0 per gal lon. CognAr 1braidy is manufactured of Froneh or Cologne snirita. burnt sugar, oil of co"nae, vinegar, blue-stone, Jamaica rum, honey-syrup, port wine, French coloring, alum. and aloes Cost, $2 per gallon; retails from (i to $10 per g d lon. Trish or Scotch whiskey is manmfac tured of Canada high wines, or new dis tilled whiskey, one week ol, saltpetro, fine salt, essence of oil of Scotch or Irish Whisky, I a1sel oil, syrup, blue-stone, St. Croix run, some imported Irish or Scotch whisky for flavor. Cost, $1.50 retails for $6 per gallon. Old Holland gin, French spirits of water, oil of Juniper syrup, white wine vinegar, blue stone, New England rum, peach pits, with some imported gin for flavor. Ol Tom gin, same ingredients, but double syrup to make, sweet. Cost, $1.25 ; retails for $5 per gallon. The above is sold by druggists for medicine for kidney disease. Jamaica and St. Croix rm'n, double refined higlwines, French coloring, oil of rum, fusol oil, vinegar, blue stone, burnt sugar, molasses syrup, with sonic imported Jamaica, Cuba or St. Croix rum for flavor, alum, aloes, pruie juice. Stock ale or porter is diluted with oil of vitriol, strychnine, and aquafortis to make it keep. New ale is diluted with oil of vitriol, damaged molasses and bilge water from sugar or molasses vessels. Lager beer and what drugs it containi: A little malt, plenty of water, some in ferior hops, rosin, tar, saleratus, soda, with four different kinds of chemicals, to make it keel) after brewing. Care of the I'eet. No part of the human lody is so much neglected as are th of,!t. Possi bly not over ten in each hundred, even of the educated classes, properly cleanse the feet and nails. BathO the feet every night and morning with a little borax in the water. Amnmonia and bay ruim, though cleansing, have a tendency to dry the skin and close the pores. Fre. quent. change of hosiery is more neces sary than changing any other part of the clothing. After physical exercise remove the stockings, bathe the feet, and anoint them, the ankles, and the calves, with healing oil or salve. Ex change the socks worn through the day for clean ones at early evening, and the brain will quickly respond to the re storing influeice. It would be much bettor to noglect to wash the face an en tire month than neglect to bathe tihe feet a single day. Never use cheap or highly p)erfumed soap, as it has a ten dlency to dry and p)arch the skin, and( so close tihe pores as to prove injurious to thme health. Castile, olive oil, and other vegetab~le oil soaps, are the best for the flesh. "'Eleraen thea Comet." "' I find," observed Drm. Budge, as he sat on the coping of hlis roof, with his olhlows onl his knees, and his chin on his hands, "I find, while the nucleus is very (distinict, the tail appearsl~ to be0 0h scured by the precip~itation of moeisture inl tile aitmosphiere. D~oes it not strike you so, Dr. Todd?" ''Our observations agree minutely," replied the other old1 scientist from thme scuttle of tihe adjoining house; "but I think the obscuration wvill afford addi tional facilities for investigating the coma. Do you notice, Dr. Budge, a p)eculiarity of this comet, that the conl Vulsionls are more manifest than ini the comets of '58 or '61 ?" "Oin the contrary, 1Dr. Todd1," rep~lied Dr. Budge, "I find tile hed more steady than in either of those phleonmena. But I ascribe that to tihe fact that this comet is receding from tile sun1." "That is a common but vulgar error," resp~onded Dr. Todd. "The fact is I he comeit is approachling tile sunl, and to that fact I attribute tile involved appear ance of the nucleus. Were it drawing away from thle 8111 you wouldl not detect those dark radiations from centre to) cir cumference." "Yell are misled, Dr. Todd. If yell will notice those dark spots at regular intervals just inlsidle the rim, you will readlily agree that it mulst 1)0 ap~proaneh mng the sunl, otherwise youl could riot see such1 shladows." "'Anybody wilo says thlere are shad owvs is an 01(1 ass, and~ doni't know a comnet from a codfish. You see--" "'I see a bullet-headed old idiot whio doin't know tihe difference b~etweeni tile sun amnd a soap-box," rotortedl Drm. Budge. "If you knew an asteroid from a jackass, I'd like to talk astromnmy with you."~ "You ciussed old mule, you say I dlon't know astronomy ? I'll punch your nose for you I" "Come on, you mullet-headed ignlora ius! You'd never know it was a comet but for me ! If you intimate that I ain't a scientist I'll shinglo your eye for you I I've been1 in this business since I was a boy I" "What's tloematter over tIere?"yelled Daddy Hicks, from his roof across the street. The two scientists pointed out the o ject of disputO, and each argued at longth oin his theory. "iTliat'is all right," said Daddy Hicks, when they had finished, "but you don't either of you seem to have noticed that it is twenty iniuiites past eleven by your comet.. That's one of the illuminated faces of the City Hall clock. Hero's the comet over hero !" The Life of i Nowsboy. "1'm stuck with all these papers. Won't you please buy one?" The speaker was a bright-eyed boy whose age, judging from his size iight be guessed as not more than ten years. Still, even under the light of a street lamip, lines of premature age could be seen upon his pinched features. His attire was that of the street Arab; panta loons sustained by one suspender, a torn woolen shirt, anl( a brimless cap. "What keeps you out so late?" 1 1 would have been abed hours ago only I lost a dollar and thirty-five cents, all that I had earned during the day, and 1 could not go home without some money, so I had to buy a new lot of papers and go on selling." "I suppose you lost your money pitch ing pennies?" "Not much," the gamin responded with traces of injured innocence In his tone. " You don't catch me gambliug. I've stood and watched the boys pitching pen nies, and I made up mind that nobody but them what's got plenty of money ouglt to gamble. I could not afford to lose a cent, so you don't see me gambling. I don't want even to know how." "Hlow much money can you earn a day!" "That depends on the luck. I generally manage to take about a dollar home with ic every night. You see I've got a mother and four young brothers to look after. It takes all I can earn to keep them going. It was good times just after the President was shot. 1 made nearly two dollars one day." " Does not your mother do any thing to support the family ?" "Not much. Sometnimes I have to get up in the morning and get the breakfast for the kids before I go to work. They are a pile of trouble to me, and it takes all that we can make to keep them at school. After school hours they go out and sell pa pers. They can't make Luch, but every little helps. We manage to keep theim at school, and they'll know how good that is when they get as old as I am. I had no chance to go to school." "You know how to read and count don't yoia " O' I 1 can read and write and count better than they can now, but I taught myself. What I learned was by hearing then going over their lessons. That is, I learned to read that way. As soon as I got a start the rest of it caie easy." 16 I think I saw you at Mr. Child's din ner on the Fourth of July. Did you en jay it I" "You bet I did. A boy stole my ticket before we got oil the train and I came near getting left, but the grey-whiskered gentle man who bossed the excursion made it all right. Then I got a seat at the trtble alongside the feller that stole my ticket, and 1 gobbled his cake to get square with hi'n, You bet I wasn't going to got left. We were having a first-rate timo and had just got to the strawberry icc-eream when the news caie that the President was dead and the afternoon papers wvere getting out extras. I just, took one spoonful of Ice cream, madle Sure of my car ticket, and~ got down town as qjuck as I couldi. It was business with me, and I scooped in a dlollar and a half, it ain't often that y.e get, such a chance to mnake money on tihe Fourth." "What do you extiect to dho for a living v, hen you get older I" " If it wasni't for the brats P'd go Into a printing oflce an'i work my way up there. Trhoy pay boys so little that I can't affordl to do that until thenyoungsters are better able to look out for themselves. In a year or two i'li he able to (lx that iup." Riaung Mills by Elctr"It.. Electricity has1 been put to many uses3, anid one of the most ingeiiouis applications of it is to the miiddlinigs p)urlifier ini place of thle air-last. Fie ti~mll olectiiity i.1 emplloyed, th e middhings passm g under hard rulbber rollers electrified biy friction aigaiinst a sheep1)hini cusiioni1. Th'e biran is at tracLtedl to the r'olleir, and3( 1s swept oftf by 1birushies, the idd1lingsi passinig through the bolta~ in the order of their fineness. The machine, which has bieen in prac tical use at a large mill for a yeari pas1t, is said( to lie economllicalh of power, anmd works without the dlust ando waitse in volvedl ill aniy proci(ess (if p~urification by air. It is quite witl.in thec range of probability that somec day grneat flouring mills wvill have their mnachuinery run by3 electrical engines, converting the piower' of water-wheels at a distancee, lie light ed by electric lamps and have their middlings p~urifiedl by another kind (of electrioity. WVhat the icr~'(Hoscop Says. Insects of various kinds may be seen in the cavities of a grain of aandl. Mould Is a forest of beautiful trees, with the biranches, leaves anid fruit. Butterflies are fully feathleredl. Ilairs are hollow tubes. Trho surface of our bodies Is covered wIth scales like a fishl; a single grain of sandl wouldl cover 150 of these scales, and yet a scale covers 500 pores. Tnrough these narrow openings thle perspiration forces it. seif like water throughi a sieve. Each dIrop) of stagnant water contains a worldI of livimg creatures swimming with as much liberty as whales In thie sea. Each leaf has a colony of mneccts graz - ing oni It like cows in a menalow. Yes, even thie ugliest plant thuat grows shows somne remarkable property when closely examined. - Foots Jheathl Afoul /dI.. Man is like a carpoet whlen lie is kept down by tax. One expresses well only the love he does uot inal. Churaeteristles of Lobuters. A mature lobster should measure without his claws from one to two feet, and weigh from two to fifteen pounds. The averago shell-fish seen in our iark ota is, however, about tOn or twelve inches, and for certain calculationts a longth of ten and one-half inches is ta kon as i standard without regard to weight. Occasionally lobsters of im mense size will be captured and their claws are preserved as relics. Some have been taken which weighed twenty five pounds, and Maine fishermen tell of prodigious shell-fish taken on their shores weighing forty-three pounds. As the shell of a lobster Is inflexible and admits of no onlargement, the covering is shed every year to allow for the growth of the body. Tle first change is made only when the lobster has existed five years, and thon, about the 1st of August the shell splits along the back and slow ly falls oil, another one forming under neath. While the now covering is grow ing, the lobster is defenseloss from his foes, and seeks refuge under rocks and crovices. By Octobor the shell is in good order, and by Decembor the lob ster is inl his best condition. A lobster's food is varied, any kind of shell-fish, sea-weed or small animal life which conies within his reachserving to satisfy h6 hunger. They have been known to live months in tile wells of a vessel, pioking up suflicient sustenance from the water in which they were kept. Troll Across the hear IFenren. "Yes !" exclaimed Mrs. Montagiue, as she pinned the last "rag" on the clothos lino and settled down to i tote-a-tete over the rear fence with her neighbor, Mrs. Bangerhar. 'My husband is smart enough at home, but. when he -goes out in society he's very quiet. Now, why's my husband like a kerosene lamp ?" 'Well," replied Mrs. Bangerhar, hesi taingly, running a hairpin through her glossy locks, as if in search of an an swer, "I suppose lhe's apt to blow you "Not mui," returned Mrs. MI., "hlo's acquainted with ine." "'Well, bweause lhe's a little light," suggested Mrs. B. "No, no," said Mrs. M., quick. "Because lie uses so much oil ?" "Not right, yet,"replied Mr. Ml., with a smile. "It isn't beealuse he gets full, is it?" '"Oh, no," exclaimed Mrs. Ml., impa tiently. "You're awful stupid this morn ing. T guess you'll hftvo to "call" Inc." "Well, then, I resign !" ejaculated Mrs. 13. "Why is he like a kerosene l11) ?" "Well, you see, he never shines when ho is out," and Mrs. Montague walked off with the air of a conqueror and the clothes basket, while Mrs. Bangorbar re paired to die house to look over aged alanaes so that she might get eveni with her neighbor on the morrow. Water. To cool tie lips of Liverpool, valleys are aboumt to bo bloeked up ini the wilds of WVales, mouitains are to b)e pierced, the beds of rivers are to be tunnelled. A stream of the brightest highland water is daily to flow through Liverpool streets~ and houses until the town and its puolmlhation be amply contentedl. Vast sunms will 1)0 sp~ent upon thme enterprise before it is compIleted ; yet the surprise is that the outlay in proportion to the result should lbe so small. Tfhe works may not amaze posterity like thli gi gantic aqueducts which stretch their gaunt skeletons through the Roman C'ampagna. But they will not lbe the less prodigious or duhrable that scienice ini these times burrows ini the earth in steadl of striding over the hills. Only a commnenement has been mnade of the retainuiing embnhiukmnent ; yet the work is described as if it were already donue, And none too soon, it seems, when it is done. Nowhere in Englamnd is the death rate huabituailly higher than in Liverpool; no where is drunkenness more prevalont. Fifty-two millions of gallons a daly, the estimate of the new underground acque (duet, will cure some of those evils, at p~resent chiarged1 to the scanty supply. "The, Ciiren of DIaair~h." It has long been a mooted p)oint whether sinugle or married muen make the best so1liers. Some maintain that the lack of a wife and family tends to make a man more reckless of his life-therefore a good sold icr. Others say that thoe married mani is al most a veteran when lie enters the ranks, being innred to combat-therefore a good soldier. In t~he recent Tumnisian campaign a Colonel was questioned on this point. "Both are right," said lie. "Look yonder-do you see that battalhon of happy, devil-may-care fellows ? They are all single men, and they would take their lives in their hands. But look again-do you see those taciturn, som bre, gloomy-looking men ? They are all married1, and in a hand-to-hand fight they are terrors." "What is the name of the battalion ?" asked the inquirer. "They are called," said the Colonel, gravely, "The Children of Despair." --Hats were first made in England by. Mnasniards in 1510 . FOOD FOR THOUGHT. Learning makes a man fit comupany for hinimself. - It costs more to revenge wrongs thian to bear them. The wise man never makes the samo blunder twice. The man who knows the most is not an owing man. Worldly faces never look so worldly as at a funeral. Proud hearts and lofty mountains are always barren. Children have more need of models than of critics. The failure of one man is the oppor. tunity of another. A handsome man and a fool may wenr the same cap. A handful of common sense is worth a bushel of learning. .The bent people need afilictions for trial of their virtue. Small faults indulged are little thieves that lot in greater. Choose such pleasures as recreate much and cost little. Zeal without knowledge is a steam ship without a rudder. Trouble is easily borne when every bodygives it a lift for you. Put no faith in the remorse of a wo man who talks about it. There arc men whose friends are more to be pitied than their enemies. Thle weak sinews become strong by their conflict with difficulties. He shall be immortal who liveth till 1he be stoned by one without fault. To love is to admiro with the heart; to admire is to love with the mind. Fill the world with gcod deeds nid you will fill it with your own glory. Genius at first is little more than a great capacity for receiving discipline. Faith steps in to our aid when our1 boasted reason and knowledge fail. There is no such thing as being prouid before mnau, and humble before God. The seds of our punishinient are sown at the saio time we commit sin. Many a man who thinks himself a great gin is nothing more than a big bore. Suspicions among thoughts are likes bts amiong birdj; they ever fly by twi. light. Little do we car for tihe speolcha of people if coliscielce will not wlisper approval. What renders the vanity of others un bearable to us is the wound it inflicts on ouls. Seeing much, and suffering much iad studyig much, are the threQ pillars of learning. Make friends with your creditors if you cali, but never mako a creditor of your friend, Every manu throws on his surrounld iligs the sunshino or sladow that exists in his own soul. Lenity is It part of Justice ; but she muist not sponk too loudly, for fear- of awaking Justice. Anger ventilated often hurries toward forgiveness; auger concealed often hard ens into revenge. Nature has written a letter of credit o01 5ome11 m)en1's faces which is honored wherever it is presented. If you would not have afiliction visit you twice, listen at once to that it teaches. No sulcess in life can be so desirable that man can afford to sell his integrity for it. Many receive their creeds as they dho their money, because they find it in cir' culation. There is no0 wa~y of making a permna nonmt an cessin th is~worhld without giving an honest equivalent for it. Pursue what you know to be attaina ble ; make1( truth your object, anid your studies will make you a wise man. Every to-miorrowv has two handles. We cani take hlcd of it by the handle of anxiety or the handle of faith. Many preserve themselves by humb bling themsolves; tile bullet flies over hinm that stoops, Grant graciously what you cannot refuse safely, and conciliate those you cannot c3onquor. The truly great mnan ltudertakos a thing because it is great; the fool, be cause ho thinks it is easy. Abovooevery other featureowhich adorns the femuale character, delicacy stands foremost within the p~rovince of good taste. Christianity is its own best evidenice. Give us more andl more of recal Christi anity, and we shall need less of its ovi deoncs. To be holy -and to be useful arc thme two noblest and greatest elements in hiumian character. Nothing is so Christ liko as these. We can noever have much confidence iln the uprightness of oithers until we have discovered some degree of upright ness in ourselves, Adjectives are the millinery of litera ture, and, like the trimmings of a dross, they should not be allowed to obscure the original fabric. Chronic discontent shows itself in the expression of the mouth. Ladie whod desiro to be0 beautiful will leaso make a niote of this. What makes p)eople so discontented with their own lot in life, is the mis taken ideas which they form of the happy lot of others. The casting dowr of our spirits inl true humility is but like throwing a ball on tihe ground, which makes it rebound the higher toward heaven. Just as soon as any convietion of truth become central and vital, there comes the desire to utter it. Bacriflce is glad ness~, service is joy, when such an idea becomes a commandling power. You cannot gather the waters into a heap, unless you let them freeze. The more we spread religion abroad, so muelj more have we remaining, and so much more richly does it flow baock