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h ,> jr j5 1' T - #r1!1 c; X '1 . . fr" II TRI-WT+EFLY EDITION.. WINNSBORO., S: C, .MAY 22, 1883.,SALSLD14 HERE AND ELSEWHERE. Th un is sinking low Only the redden and glow; Only the weather60'1'2 .p .iir. lOf the neighboring churc is 'ltt e of . fire. All is in shadow below. O beautiful awful sunmer day, hYhat hast thou given, what taken away' Life and death, love and hate, Homes made happy or desolate Hearts made sad- or gay I On the road of life one milestone more! In the book of life one leaf turned o'er! Like a red seal in the setting sun On the good and the evil men have done Naught can to-day restore. COUSIN tsHADRACU'S WILL. "Are you my Aunt Dorcas?" "Sakes alivel" said Mrs. Torrance, "who be you?" "I'm EImily," said the girl. "Please let me in for I am tired and cold. I've walked all the way from the station, and I've had nothing to eat since noon." "Well. I neverl" said Mrs. Torrance. "You're the city schoolma'am, ain't you, aswent out to live with Cousin Shadrach? And lie's dead, and the money has all gone to the Baptist widow and orphan -fund? You didn't make much by that move, did you? And you've come back to us now, though we wasn't stylish enough for you before. Well, come in, come in." Cousin Shadrach had been the family apple of discord ever since they could remember. He was rich, he was eccen tric, he was crabbed. He had shut the door in the face of all his relatives, until, toward the last, sick and feeble, he had signified his desire that Emily Alden should come and take care of him. And Emily had gone. There had been a spice of jealousy in the family as regarded Emily for a long time. Emily had been looked upon as "proud" and "stuck up," because instead of entering a factory, or learning the dress-maker's trade, she had elected to be a teacher. She had never visited Job Torrance's family until now -now that Cousin Shadrach had willed his money to the Baptist widows and or phans-her own mother was dead and her step-father, a pompous old wholesale . grocer, objected to step-children, so that there seemed to be no other haven of refuge left to her. Who could blame Mrs. Torrance for a momentary feeling of triumph when Emily Alden caine thus to her door-stone .in the twilight of that April day? But she helped her off with her things, made a cup of tea for her, and finally escorted her to a little room under the roof-tree, where the floor was covered with a home-made rag carpet, and the bed was decorated with a rainbow "Job's troubles" quilt, and you could look out the window into a greening meadows, where a whip-poor-will plainted its me lancholy refrain. "I hope you will sleep well," said Mrs. Torrance. "We eat breakfast at 5 o' clock." "What is she like, mother?" said Job, Jr., who was milking. * "Oh, she looks well enough," Mrs. Torrance carelessly responded. "Little and dark, with big, shady eyes, and a real Torrance mouth;doesn't talk a great deal, and dresses shabby, as one might Sexpect." *"Poor thing," said Job, pityingly. "Well," said Mrs. Torrance, sharpmly, " I can't say but what I think she deser yevs all she got. Them Aldens always *were as proud as Lucifer ." "You'll keep her, mother, of course?" " I suppose so," said Mrs. Torrance, " I don't suppose she's got anywhere *else to go." Emily rose, dressed herself, and came down-stairs. ''Aunt Dorcas," she said, as she en countered that lady frying ham and eggs over the kitchen fire, 'what is there in this neighborhood for a woman to do?" "Ehi?" said Mrs. Torrance in surprise. "To earn my living, Imean?"exclaim ed Emily. " Is the district school sup plied with a teacher?" Mrs. Torrance nodded as she placed the slice of frizzling ham on a blue edged plate and arranged the eggs in golden sphleres above. " Is there a factory hereabouts?" pur .suedl Emily. "Used to be," said Mrs Torrance,'"but they failed, and it's been shut up for ten onths." "Do you know any one wvho wants a irl?" pursued the city cousin. Mrs. Torrance set thme coffee-pot on the ble, blew tihe horn for .Job, and then sponded to her niece's query by a count r quiest,ion. "Why don't you stay here?" "Because," said Emily with spirit, "I ant to earn my own living." "Well,'you can earn it here, can't ou? I was calculating to hire a girl his spring; and if you'll work honestly or it, I'll give you the $6 a month I was olng to pay hired help." Emily's p)ale lace brightened. " I should like that," she saidl. And hen Job camne in, tall, handsome and ushed, his curls yet wet from the spring~ nto wvhich he had dipped them, and a prig of trailing arbutus pinned on to his oat, amnd spoke a frank welcome to the oung girl.*whom lie had never seen be ore. "So Cousin Shadrach See.ly is dead?" e said. *"Yes," said Emily quietly. "Did you like him?" "No," confessed the' girl. "lie 'was 08and surly, and had no sympathy Ith anyodya. n..t I trie to be kind, to him, and lie kissed me once before he died, and said I had been a good girl." "4A l Ii s I one ft;li refuge for Baptist widows an o - phans!" said Mrs. Torrance. "That's Coisin Shadrach all over.? "He had a right to do as lie pleased i with his money," said Emily, a faint t glow arising to her cheeks. I "Well, its all overand gone. There's no use talking about it now." At the end of a month Mrs. Torrance t as-forced to acknowledge that Emily had well earned her $0 a month and boad. t The girl had about her wonderful inag- t netic power which philosophers dub "ex- t ecutive ability, "and New England housekeepers call "faculty," she was a natural cook-she did things without I seeming to take any trouble at all." c " I don't understand it," said Mrs. Torrance. "A little, dark, slim thing that was always brought up to sit with her hands folded." And one sultry day in July, when Job and Emily came in from strawberrying, with crimsoned fingers, laughing faces 1 and baskets heaped high with the frag- t rant fruit, Mrs. Torrance started in the solitude of her dairy, where she was making "cottage cheese." t " I declare," she cried. "I wonder I t never thought of that before. Oh, dear I oh, dearI I never can consent to it in the living world." Job came to her that same evening. "Mother," said lie, "Emily has pro mised to be my wife." Mrs.'Torrance burst into tears. "You're only 20 years old, Job," she t faltered. "Just two years older than when my father married your mother. Now, don't you turn your face away; but tell me j plainly, have you any fault to find with I my choice?" "No-no," confessed Mrs. Torrance. "Did you think I could possibly win a sweeter girl than Emily Alden?" "No, I don't suppose you could," an swered the mother-in-law elect; "but I *it's natural, Job, to feel a little jealous ( when you see some one else taking the first place in your child's heart." 1 But when Job brought Emily in to re ceive her kiss of greeting, Mrs. Torrance t had sufficiently conquered herself to bid 8 ler new daughter welcome. F "Though I s'posed, Emily," said she, a little bitterly, "that you looked higher 2 than a farmer once." "I never looked higher than one of nature'snobleman," said Emily. "Job," said she "would you like to be rich?" "Well, yes," said Job. 'I'd like mon ey enough to keep my wife in luxury." "Would you, Aunt Dorcas?" said Emily, turning to Mrs. Torrance. t "Of course I should," said the matron, vigorously plying her knitting needles; t "but I don't ever expect it." "But you are rich," said Emily with I a little tremor in her voice, "Job is rich t -we are all rich together-with Cousin Shadrach Seely's money-" "But," cried Mrs. Torrance. " I thought he left it all to the Baptist wid ows and orphans." C "Not all," said Emily. "Its a secret, t but I may tell you now, Half was left to s the refuge-the other $30,000 is mine, to be paid o'ver to me on the day on which Imarry a man wvho, ignorant of Cousin Shadrach's bequest, has loved me loyally and well. It y as the old man's whim, t and I have respected it. Oh!i Aunt Don cas, I cijme to you because in my be wilderment I knew not where else to go, i but I little dreamed that I was entering i directly into the kingdom of a noble ' heart."' It was true. Shadracti Seeley, eccent 2 rio In life, had been equally eccentric in ' is death, anid when Mr. Mustybill, the lawyer, p)aid over the legacy, lhe said, .3 chuckling:t " It Is all right! It's exactly as my t poor client would have it! I congratu late you, Mrs Job Torrance!" And MNrs. Torrance the elder has aI higher opinion of her daughter-In-law's attractions,now they are in a back ground of gold. __________ balmion an the I'aoatto. Salmon fishing in the Columbia iver begins about the 20th of April and the 1 season lasts four months. Astoria Is the great centre of the trade, as It is] most conveniently situated to combine t facilities for the catch and for trans- j portation. Fishierinen who furnish their ( own boats are paid by th6 packers sixty E cents for each salmona weighing not less t,han eight pounids. The salmon are t t,aken as they ascend the river from the t sea -on the way to their spawning j Trounds, which are hundreds of miles r inland. In fact they make their way c far up the small tributaries of Snakec river and thme northern hieadwaters of the Columbia branches until small streams in the heart of the western foot hills of the Rocky mountains are some t,imes fairly alive with them. , There are thirty-six canneries on the Columbia, " employing a capital of $2,00 0 and ' employing about 7,000 men. 9I?e catch i last year was 585,000 cases, worth $2,-i 'r82,000. Each year the means of en snaring the fish grow more perfect, and the barrier of nets and scoop-wheels has 'i become so close that It almost seems strange that any should escape or find their way through. There has beeni cansiderable talk of limiting 'the destruc tiveness of the JAsheries, or at least of enforcing the law which prohibits 'fish ing on Sunday, so that one day in the week the salmon may be free to pass umn :nolested, and igo inttnre the preservation of enoug to keep the waters stocked. At present there is no limit placed to the slaughter, but it is said the run shows no apparent diminution as coim pared with earlier years. Should it fallI off, artificial hatcheries are to' be estab lished. Contoary of the ope 1783. One hundred years ago il 18, 1781 . enral Washi gton, then aNew bu ' lere his ttt;bops were amp, received the -proelamation an louncing the cessation- of hostilith vith Great Britain, Which Congress ha sued six days before, The preliminai reaty had indeed been signed in ti receding November, but such was tli ardy reluctance of the British dipl< nats, and the uncertainty and slown6i f trans-Atlantic' Communication 'thi he proclamation could not be venture ipon until mid-April following; an ho treaty definitively acknowledghi he independence of the United StatE vas not concluded until the next Se] ember. The proclamation of Congres towever, declaring the end of the crui var was sufficient for the Commande u-Chief and for the army, and the ne) ay after its receipt at camp, April 18t1 783 "General Orders " were issued b Vashington as follows : "The Con ander-in-Chief orders the cessation ostilities between the United States < tmerica and the King of Great 3rital o be publicly proclaimed to-niorrov April 19) at twelve o'clock, at tll 1ew Building and that the proclamit ion, which will be commuicated hen vith, be read to-morrow evening at tlL iead of every regiment and corps of thi rmy; after which the chaplains wit he several brigades will render than! o Almighty God for all His mercie iarticularly for His overruling tli vrath of man to His own glpry, an ausing the rage of wa' to cease amon he nations." le did not stop at ti >rief announcement, but went on to ri nind the army that the day designate or this return of thanks had more thu n ordinary significance. On the 19t f April, 1775, the war began at Lexinf on. " On such a happy day-a di vhich is the harbinger of peace-a da vhich completes the eighth year of tI var, it would be ingratitude not to ri oice; it would be insensibility not t >articipate in the general felicity," There is a flavor of antiquity in the. eneral Orders of a hundred years ag4 L'he style is not that of the present da] t shows what the writer felt and ho eeply, and that he did not fear to ei ress himself in what would seem to ti ublic of 1883.the ambitious style of tLi hetorician. "Tie Commander-iii )hief," he continued, "far from ei leavoring to stifle the feelings of joy I is own bosom, offers his most cordil ongratulations on the occasion to a he officers of every denomination-I ,11 the troops of the United States i eneral and in particular to those ga .ut and persevering men who had ri olved to <defend the rights of their ii 'aded country so long as the war shoul ontinue. . . . . Being immort.a eed by the illustrious appellation of tL Patriot Army,' nothing now remair ut for the actofs of this mighty scer o preserve a perfect, unvarying coi istency through the very last act; I lose the drama with applause; and t etire from the military theatre wit he same approbation of angels and me vhich has crowned all their former vii uous actions." This was the style of speech whic aarked many of the public papers < hat period. Critically, it is not to b efended in these days;- but criticism hould not be suffered to chok atriotism out of existence. We had rand illustration, during the Centei ial of Independence, how the worl an unite in honoring the " times an lie men " to whom all the world ow( o much. And in the same spirit, th 9th of April, 1775, and the 19th c Lpril, 1783, are always to be remnembei di; and General Prosperity, a hundre ears after, issues general orders fc mutual congratulations andl devotn hankfulness. Gastior Starting Locomotive FireOM.. In Germany the practice of etartini >comotive fires with gas instead < rood is being adopted on some of th mlways,and is found to be economica 'he apparatus used consists of a hor ontal tube and several vertical tube eithi burners. Each vertical tube has ozzle, i which the gas mixes with ai rawn in laterhly, before issuing at th opper burner. The lighting of the am hracite coal on the grate is done in te o twenty mmnutes, according to the gs ressure. In a gap between the bars I iserted from below an Iron plate, tm angth of the system of burners, and a hat it projects somewhat above thm rate surface, Then three or fou'r shos ifuls or dry coal pieces about tlie sis *f one's fist are placed about the plate nd thme rest of thme grate surface is cos r, d with a thin layer o1 coal. Then th late is drawn out, and thme system( ut nors put into its place;three hundre narts of gas lights the coal snfficientl~ n the course of thirty to forty five mit tes, according~ as the locornotive wa reviously warm or cold, the burnin oal is pushed apart so that the fire ma, xtend as quickly as possible over th rhole grate. The gas is conveyed t he burner apparatus through a rubbe abe from a small gas holder, an4 th ressure can be easily varied am will. scent improvement in the apparatu onsists in doing away with the nomui *f each burner, and piroducing the miu ure or gas and air by means of a singi ozz'e in the connecting pipe. Dampness, or Walls. The dampness on thme walls of brie nd stone honses is often due to tm ause which de posits moisture on lass or pitcher filled with ice water an rought mnzto a warm room. The wall ecome cold and remain so for a Ion line, and when the weather chanige uddea.ly from cold to warm, the air all of moisture aund is deposited on th rails by time chill when the air strike hem. It is easily prevented, says mechanical journal. No plaster shoal< se put directly upon woQd or stone. I. Is place furring atrips should be nmile o the wail, and th*e laths should be pn in these. Cellars art. often made ver amp In warm weather froin the sam manse, because of too muoh ventilatior [he warmi air pourimg In become ihilled and doesita ifq m4osture till I uns in streaims to the surprise eif thm iousokeeper, iwho wondeirs how l6-1 hat the more het:celler Is jaired thm Laumner it becomes. rate of Os $ l, xplrore. Do Sota and his en-the flower of the Peninsula ehivlry-braved every tjing, qujTeXd a arything, in their search for >l Do Q. The hot spiings d of Arkansas they t.ought the fabled fountain of perjstual youth. They penetrated Missou from the South ; twice orpased the ,s}arkaills, and spent the winter of 1541' 2 among them. They found the region swarming'with fieroe Indians. They fought the Paw d nees, who still do a thriving business d at scalping survejors and throwing trains off the track along . the Union SPacifio Railway in ZTebraska ; and the Kaws, of whom a b?ta rable remnant et survive, to rAtsO ta, . and beg { bacco and. whisky tile bot toms of", the f:eer They ; smelted ore, and weildisgusted to find it lead instead of silver, Vernon y county, Missouri, still contains ruins of L- old fortifications and furnaces, believed If to. ma,rk the; wipter camp of those gal lant, ill-starred soldiers of fortune. n . Their fate served 81 a wa;ning. For bue hundred and 1foq years the great e river was left undisturbed, unseen by civilized man, Then Marquett the ,.. missionary, with Jolie the explorer, e starting from Canada, floated down its e silent current to the mouth of the Ar Ii kansas. Like later travelers, they were :8 surprised to find the stream so clear i, and blue above ,the, inouth of the Mis e souri, so muddy and turbid below. d Before reaching the Gulf, they turned g back from dread of the Spaniards. But .8 after them, also from the north, came - La Salle the fearless. He rode the d muddy current until he had planted the ni lilies of France at the mouth of the h Mississippi. Louis: XIV. was at the - senith of his gloryl In the name of Y the Great King, the bold explorer. took, Y posession of the entire country, baptis Sing the river "St. Louis," and, its val - Icy "Louisiana." o Poor La Salle I le -hoped for wealth, fame and honor for his discoveries. e They brought hardship, heart-siokness and death, For years he faced appalling * disaster with unshaken soul. At last, after long, fruitless endeavors to find again the banks of the Mississippi, a e bewildered wanderer in north Texas, e he fell, assassinated by one of his own soldiers. How great explorers, like great orators, have suffered the - most cruel mockery of destiny ! They form the saddest pictures in all history. Co o lumbus, of the broad brow and majestic frame, in an old age of poverty and chains; Ponoo Do Leon, leeble and gray-haired, shot to death by savages, even while seeking the immortal foun d tain ; La Salle, the dauntless and tire I less, with his thin arms folded, and his e tattered cloak wra. - 4 sbout him, s cradled in an , unknowi ave, among e the barren hills of Tris ity River ; Ba .. -leigh, the early darling of fortune, his 0 narrow, bald head under the shining o axe, his calm lips murmuring. "This h1 is sharp medicine, but it cures the worst n disease ;" Do Bota, lowered at midnight to the bottom of the Mississippi, with no audible prayer for his heart-broken a comrades, lest the lurking red men ,f hould learn that the bold leader was a it rest after all his wandering, in pence a after all his troubles I a Houses Where Washington Stoppec. I Years ago the attention of travelers d on the stage going from Hartford to a Middletown was usually attracted to a e quaint and piotuiesque old mansion just ,f outside the Village of Rocky Hill. It 'tood near the road, facing the west iandI was built of brick, two stories and r attic, was a gambrel roof, dlormner win *t dows and a circular light in each gable above the two attic windows. The solkl foundation of dressed stone, the carved door and generous -proportions Sof the structurb, with Its three chimneys f and kitchen wing, bespoke it the abode e of some gentleman of "ye olden time." -But the most charming feature of this Shouse was th~e profusion of woodblue 5 (Virgliia creeper) that draped the ex a terior. How it clambered over gable r and window, entirely Covering one end( e of the house. Such a revel of greenery was seldom seen on a sober dwelling. It a embraced one of the chimneys, embroid 5 ering It with a mat of shining green, a more lovely than any -decorative art a couldl have prodiiced, then after reach o the top threw its~ bright tendrils out on a the air, where they swung in the breezes. -In thme early autumn the old vine was a gorgeous hm4 its varying isQadles. it is , still there, but not as fldhilishilng now, -although still a picturesque andi pleas a ing feature. The old brick house, one f of the few remainitig mansions of col 3 onial times, was built by "John Rob. s. bins, gentleman, A. D., 1707,,r as the -date over the front doorWay wvileshow. s Some years since It was stated tha I; a g house somewhere in Massachusetts was y the first ever built of native bricks pIre a pared for that purpose. The Robbins a House, however, was built of bricks r burned in Connecticut, and it Is claim a ed at an earlier date that'.-the one above a mentioned. Of cojurse. this famed old a house standing on the main road to B Hartford, was one of the ,favored,wheore ."Geun. Washington stopp9d'' okthait e memorable journey through Connecti cut. It was at that time, it is believed, opened- and kept for a few 5,ears as an Inn. The old sign is still preserved in i the family.' Its device is an equestrian B representation of the Duke of Vumber Iland. Thme wooden surface is pierced Swith bullet holes, and is altogether k e very interesting relic of , colonial and E revolutionary days. The -Robbins fain a ily now occuplylng the place are direct B descendants, of Equire John, who 3 builded so well one hundred and six S teen'ydars ago. Thle fih1t$"state, hQw I' ever, has diminished in" htie courbe' of I time. Only a few acidof the large, I original tract-of land now reiain In the iZ possession of the family, the remainder t having been sold during the psing y yeafsa The negnsion is till sol' and 0 well'preserved.and bids fir to :4uihain -laitt~ for another eentei~ l't) the yard a still stspl'4 ene of thie ft dsibearing t appienoQs,.fqg drawing water, the old e fash4oiod well sweep. . a You can hold an opinibh more frmly than you can clutch a hornet. Were the Ancient Hebrews Left-lIanded Thereis a new problem for the Anglo Israelites. Were the ancient Hebrewi a left-handed people? Dr. Erlenmeye: has just given an interesting an< learned lecture to prove that they were Most of the Aryan peoples, as we know write from the left to the right of i sheet of p por, and their books are s printed as to be read in this direction Most of the Semitic people, on th Oontrary, write from the right to the left of the paper. Uitherto this ver3 emphatic difference has been simplZ represented to be a mere oharacteristi of habit, kept up by the reverence foi tradition which is so deeply rooted ii the Semitic m id. It has never oc curred to any one, so far as we know that the direction taken by the hand o a Semitic scribe in writing was due to i physiological cause, namely, to the fac that his left hand was his better hand and was much more ready an d '"dex terous" than the hand whinh we Aryan call the dexter. Dr. Erlenmeyer insisti that the writers of the Old Testament, and probably the early Talmndists aftei them, naturally wrote with their lel hands, and would have found it difficult, if not impossible, to write with the other hand. Hence it was only natural that manuscript should travel along a line which started from the right and ended on the left. Dr. EL.enmeyer says that this hypothesis is not a more happy thought of his own, but that hi has found striking confirmation of the theory in the Talmud. For instance he cites a passage which insists thai certain special prayers and inscriptionf are always to be written with the righl hand, au- not with the left. The exe, outibn of this exceptional proseriptioz was a work of time, patience and diffi. oulty., and it is implied that the procesi of writing with the right hand was i departure from the ordinary. easy and natural way of writing. Tne learned doctor also cites passages from the He. brew of the.Old Testament in which i particular stress seems to him to bi laid upon'the "left-handedness" of the old Hebrews. Jacob and Job, he says preferred to give the pre-eminent bone diction with the left hand instead o the right. Jacob, "knowingly and do liberately," laid his left hand upon the head *of his eldest grandchild. We commend the question to the Anglo Israelites. If they can prove that the majority of Englishmen are naturall3 lefthanded they will be in possession of one more "identity,-' In that case wi may expect them to write their letteri and print their magazines in futur after the proper Semitic manner. Big Hearted. But the funniest snap I ever saw was in St. Louis. What? Don't know whal a brace is? Well, the old-fashioned braci faro box is so arranged that when it ii unlocked you can slip two cards out a once. The cards have to be sand papered to make them stick together, though. Well, the top card is shoved a little to one side, so that the dealei can see the next one under it. Now, i the player has a coppered bet on thi king, and you see that the king is going to lose, why it's the easiest thing in th world to slip both cards out, and th4 king that would have lost money foi the house don't show up. The cas< keeper, of course, has to be posted, ani marks the cases accordingly. Thi newest invention, though, is what the3 call the "put-back" box. This is ti safest and most ingenious device thai I know of, There is an apparatus sc arranged that when the dealer pullh out two cards he can hold one of then in his left hand-that is, if he is slieb -and put it back in the bottom of the box. In thisi way the cases are aiways kept straight, and no one is likely t< get on to the racket. A big-hearted, simple minded fellov named Bill Taylor had struck it rich day or two before, and he had over thousand dollr- iu his pocket. H< had one $10 geld piece that was coun terfeit, it having been passed on himr that day. He wanted to play bank al a certain place, but I objected, telling him it was a brace game, and that h( stood no show for his money. He per sisted, however, and I waited ina neighboring saloon. In about half au hour lie caine in, tickled to death. He~ was laughing so hard that his fat side, fairly shook. When he had sufIloiento recovered he burst out with: "Well Tom, I got the best of them that time. "How's that?" I asked. "Passed that counterfeit tenner or 'em," and then he went off lnte anothei fit of laughter that shook the building. When quiet was restored once more asked : "Well, how did yeu come out on the play?" "Oh, I lost the roll, but I got eveu with 'em;' yes, I got eveni with 'em passed the tennor on 'cm, you know. And then lie exploded again. Suel chumps are numerous. V'oultry a~nd I'romit. The census of 1870 gave France, w< are . told,e 42 800,000 fowls, 8.500,004 ducks, 1,700,000 turkeys, and 8,800,00' geese. At present there are 415,000,00i fowls, valued at $22,500,000. Of the 45,000,000 It is estimatea that 11,000,00i are consumed annually, producing about $8,500,000 leaving 84,000,u0i hens to be fruitful and multip.ly. Thesa yield 100,000,000 chickens every year of wiioch 10,000 are reserved for the purpjoses of reproduction and 10,000,001 are lost through accident or disease;the remaining 80,000,000 are marketed yielding $24,000,000. The eapons give a further return of 6l,200,000,wh,le the anmual yield of egg's is placed at 90 fo: each of the 84 000,000 hens, so that al together the French farmer derives from the poultiy Vard nsearly $70,000,000 yeg.,, M. Meneult contids .that -this produ6t could be more than quadruple< with but little offort,7afAd he an1d man: pf tpie public spirited men associate< with hint are spa: ing )iMkh6r labpr no: expense to istrdlot the -peasant. anli smaiJ farmers as to the advaitages-o u>ltff 3taslig uNfon an extended seale and an accordance with s6aentinio nith. nas. The scarlet Fever. It is as unnecessary for a child to die of the scarlet fever as it is that it should r be blind with a cataract. Let us see. I At any time before the body has fin ished its ineffectual struggle we are able ti to help it, not by wonderful medicines but by the knowledge of anatomy, and w ) the application of common sense. We consult the sympathetic nerve, and do w what it commands us to do. We must give this child salt when it wants it ; we must give it acid when it has fever 0 and anxiously craves it-not *inegar, t but lemon juice, because the first co agulates albumen, and the latter does not. on account of the surplus of oxy 0 gen which it contains. To imitate the soothing mucus in the intestines, which ri f is now wanting, and to give some re spiratory food at the same time, we add b b some gum arabic, To restore and re lieve the injured nerve, we apply moist sc warmth. In practice we can fulfil all this with the following simple manipu' m lations : Undreb, the child and bring it to bed at the very first sign of sickness. Give it. if it has already fever, nothing a but sourish warm lemonade with some gum arabio in it. Then cover its abdo. Ol men with some dry flannel. Take a well-folded bed sheet and put it in it boiling hot water; wring it out dry by 1o means of dry towels, and put this over the flannel on the child's abdomen. aI Then cover the whole, and wait. The at hot clothes will, perhaps, require re peated heat. According to the severity te of the case, and its stage of progress, w perspiration will commence in the child in from ten minutes to two hours. The child is then saved; it soon falls to t sleep. Soon after the child awakes, it shows slight symptoms of returning in clination for food; help its bowels, if s necessary, with injections of oil, soap and water, and its recovery will be as steady as the growth of a green-house t plant, if well treated. Of course, if the child was already dying, nothing could save it, or if it has already effusions in ti t'ie lining of the heart or brain, it is ft much better that it should die. But if the above is applied in due time, under tlI - the eyes and direction of a competent ti f physician, I will guarantee that not one in a hundred children will ever die of scarlet fever. I know this will. startle some of my readers, especially those - who have lost children already, but I shall go still farther. I maintain that " a child will never get scarlet fever if e properly treated. It a chill has correctly mixed blood, it will not catch the die- vi order if put in bed with a sick child. ci 3 This is still more startling, but nothing is easier of proof. Amterloan Pork. If the Western papers are not naoeu- b rate in their statistics, although the prohibition of American pork in Ger many, on the ground of trichinous in feotion appears to be a very destructive 0 measure as regards the export of that commodity, it isjnot in reality likely to prove Injurious to any great extent to the Interests of hog raisers and pork packers in this country. As published, l the decree compr'ses sides, bacon,hams, l sausages, and the flash of the animal in all forms of preparation, but is under- ni stood not to include lard, although a in question, may hereatter arise on that "" point,and Western manufacturers should not congratulate themselves too soon. b If the exception, as respecttlaid,should o1 prove correct, however, the new legis- h; lation will not seriouRly embat raas the ordinary course of trade, for with the e exception of that article, our direct cx- k port to Germany of the products of the ~ Islaughter and packing house Is not very important. Wnile, for illustration, our t total shipment to foreign markets of bacon and hams last year amounted to nearly $47,000,000, and our shipment c of salt pork to about'-$7.000,00~0, Ger many took the value of less than half at million of dollars in the three articles dI combined. In the matter of live awine, a the Gernman demand amounted to less. than the paltry sum of five hundred 04 dollars-that is, practically nothiing;but d in compensation for the small trade In p live stock, more than one-fifth of all the lard exported from the United States d was consumed by the people from over b~ the Rhiine,whose call for the article wais j represented by $55,500,000. If, then, this commodity lase been excepted from the prescription, our people can afford to laugh at the decree in its present !, form, as it will only lead to a larger de mand for American pork in England, to be repacked, reiabeledl,and sent to Ger- al many as the genuine English product-- b a trick of trade that al ready engages ti considerable capital and industry In English centres of export, and will re. aL calve a new impulse from the ill consid it crot1 measures of Bisnmarok and the tl Bandesrath. ParN Shiopkeepera. The French correspondent fuirnFihes the somewhat overdrawn skoeh relative to the complaints of dull trade on the part of Paris shopkeepers: "Formerly ~ they comptai ed every fifteen ye.rs. ' Nowadays thesmallest shopkeeper wants 0 to live like a lord, to have hornues, car- 0 riages. a country house, a good tabln, a good cellar, and all the rest of it, 1 and to make his fortune in fiye years. 11: Every shopkeeper has the pretentions at of a nobleman, and gives himself the 0l airs of a Richelieu, and I haive just read on ve'ry elegant paper an invitation in l( which M. Three-asterisks begs Ma- ~ dame N. to do him the honor of visiting s( his showrooms.and inspecting his stuffs. a I am told that. reiroshments, bouquets of violets, and credit are odered to the fair visitors. When we add up the ex penses of the show, and when we re member that the entleman whaoinygge means to make i profits anid sptye, Senough to live on b iAiopnre in fou or ive years, it Will be ' gtint.ed, that It is being~ a bore to eggesh t4l69 n for fity years to the monotonon'l.uu*delii of thd song that the tfides.1/ebple Mrs complaining, and to %cqtidoe1 thankb to that ditty, In Fraioh b'eing -tuiIdi The 'fshaermnvii beats the 'huyer by hi weIghing the fish on its own scales 14 FOOD FOR TiOUGHT. Hope Is the brightest star in the fir tament of youth. There's very little or no opposition to t0 red hot poker. It is wisdom to think, and folly to sit ithout thinking. We are no longer happy so soon as o wish to be happier. A man of lofty thought and elevated >inion-a balloonist. The greatest happiness comes from te greatest activity. Love for the dead should not cramp ir duty to the living. It is upon the smooth ice we fall; the )ughest path Is the safest. Occasions do not make a man frail, ,it they show what he is. Despise no one; for every one knows imething thou knowest not. A prayer in its simplest' deflnition is erely a wish turned God-ward. - Genius at first is nothing more thaf great capacity for receiving discip no. Rlashiess is not valor; doubtful opes ight to make 111011 resolute, no rash. Trite friendship is like soutm ealtl; i value is seldom known u it it is st. Ie who rises late must tro all day, id will scarcely overtake li lisiliess night. True love always makes a an bet r, no matter who the won is or hIo inspires it, What men want' is not tale , it is irpose, not the power to achi , but ie will to labor. IIe who does good for good's e eks neither praise nor reward, tho ire of both at last. One may be better than his repita on or his conduct, but never better an his principles. The best way to show ou' apprecla on of the Divine forbearance is to be >rbearing ourselves. The feeble tremble before opinion, to foolish defy it, the wise judge it, ie skilful direct it. Pay your honest debts before you ibscribe to charitable undertakings. onesty before charity. Let us have faith that right makes ight, and in that faith let us, to the id, dare to do our duty. Life is not so excessively charged ith sweetness that one needs to be ltiilnuhlly throwing in acids or bitters. A man may be thought clever while 3 is seeking for wisdom; but, if he im ;ines lhe has found it, lie is a fool. Ile who is false to present duty reaks a liaw in the loom; and will find to liaw when they have forgotten the 11s0. A Christian's experience Is like a tinbow, made up of drops of the grief earth and beams of the bliss of 3aven. There are some things I am afraid to and I confess it is In this great esence; L am afraid to do a mean iing. The connandments were given that itle liglht l"0 according to them; not ierely that cy might be acquainted ithl them. We all know what our duties are, lit we dodge them; we all know what ir rights are, and we are bound to ve theni. A cheerful temper joined with inno mne., will make Ieaut attractive, iiowledge delightful, and1( wit gOod Powver, In its quality and( degree, is to measure of manhoodl. Scholarship, ,ve by accident, is never the mneasuire a man's power. The talent of success Is nothting more ian doing what you can do wvei1llid >ing well whatever you do without thought of fame. If you want to gain a r'ep)utationi for icentricity, and to be universally readled, if niot hlated,(lur out tihe lin truth oni all occa.usionms. The losses, troubles, sufferings of our illy life are only thle (lust and cinders lown into the traveller's eyes on the murney to our heavenly home. It Is how, far more than what we do, lIt is the source of tihe plleasuIre or t11in which our dlaily lives are radiating p'on those whioml we love best. Adversity has ever been considered a the state in wich a man most easily icomes acqlualited with himself, par cularly, being free from flatterers. A narrowv minded Christaan leading life of crooked prejudices and doing conscientiouisl y makes more atheists ian all the infldel books ever wvritten. D)r. IIolland describes faith as dlraw ig p)oisonl from every grief, removing ie sting from every . loss, quenchling ie lire of every pain, amid only faith cani o it. Whienm fate has allowed to any mani 1010 thIan one great gift, alccidenit or' acessity seemns usually to conltrive thlat lie shmall incuimber and 1impedle the ~her.. Doubt has been tile great discoverer. o question an old lie is usually the rat step towardl a new truth. It Is an 3t of heroism to dispute a mnoss-grown 'ror out of existence. Profanity never did. any man the list good. No mnati,Is richier, 11haper, i' wiser for It. It tommends 1no one to mciety; it Is disguikting to' reflned people aid abomlihable to the good. The inan wvhin you can treat with nireserved familiarity, 'at the same me p reserving your digIlity and his >spect,-id -a rlue 'idohipadlon, and his xqitainitLnee should be ciultivated. *Men pray for tholiheser gs if it were rhlething ':entirely' SDdi-ti from .their" ery,day life,something that had nioth.. g at all to do with, their conduct i.n ir doxdetA, soial4; Oid business