The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, September 13, 1881, Image 1
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