The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, May 22, 1883, Image 1
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