The Darlington news. (Darlington, S.C.) 1875-1909, February 18, 1886, Image 1
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THE DARLINGTpN NEWS,,
f UBMWPW' *V*EYXHUBS1)AT MOBNWa
JD. X>, EVA.3STS,
•. PROPRIETOR..
rER**—$2 P*** Anaum In Adranee.
One Square, first insertion....,,,, f 1.60
One Square, second insertion..., 1.00
Etery subseqent insertion 60
Contract advertisements inserted upon the
most reasonable term*.
Marriage Notices ,a»d Obituaries, not
ixeeeding sin lines, inserted free.
1*2-A -.1
THE DARLINGTON NEWS.
KACIkUR*! BILL.
Paebelor’s Hall, wbat a comical place it is!
Keep me from such all the days of my
lift!
Sure but he knows what a burning dis
grace it is.
Never at all to be getting a wife.
0ee the old bachelor, gloomy and sad
enough * .
Fussing around while he’s making his
fire; ,
His kettle has tipt up, ocke honey, hf’g
mad enough,
If he were present, to fight with the
squire { - ~~ — *’
Peis, dishes, and pans,
commodities,
and such other
Ashes and praty-skins, kiver the floor;
oard a sti
His cupbi
ities,
Things never
before.
storehouse of comical odd-
thought of as neighbors
When his meal it is over, the table’s left
sittin’ so;
Dishes, take care of yourselves if you
ean;
Devil a drop of hot water will visit ye.
Och, let him alone for a baste of a man 1
How, like a pig in a mortar-bed wallow
ing.
See the old bashelor kneading his dough;
Troth, if his bread he can ate without
swallowing,
How it would help his jUfea0oo, ye
know |
Tate in the night, when he goes to bed
ehivoriog.
Never the bit is his bed made at all;
8o he creeps like a terrapin under the kiv-
ering ;
Bad luck to the pictur of Bachelor’s
Hall!
Anonymous.
HclcctfD Hturij.
The Widow’s Secret,
“I do not think you treat him
right,” said the rosy little widow to
(he dross maker who was fitting her
trim flgnre to a silk gown of the
color of t( moon upon the lake,” and
at the same time holding her bead
back, and a trifle to one side, lest
her tears should drop tbereeu. “I
don’t think women know bow to
treat their husbands.’'
"You must be exjiert in the mut
ter,” responded Mrs. Fittern, “see
jug this is the fourth time you bare
tried ’em. Hollow in your back a
trifle, as is natoral to vou—there—
sets like a dock’s foot in tire mud—
can’t be bettered," she exclaimed
professorship.
The widow eyed herself sharply,
turning from side to side, and smil
ing consciously at her own pretti-
ness.
“Yes, that will do, Mrs. Fittem ;
but I am sore you don’t treat your
husband right"
rig!
“Shouldn’t wonder, ma’am, see
ing my patience has clean gone out
A)f me. This will be your ipnrth
husband. Well, welt you mtyrt,
begging poor pardon, like men bet
ter’u I do. ‘Moon upon the lake’ is
mighty becoming to you, and very
suitable for a widow.”
The lady reddened, but she gave
A short laugh, also, as she answer
ed in a way and manner to hide >he
Sting under wbat she said,—
“Men are good creatures when
women know how to manage them
They do seem to incline more to
some women more than otbera.”
“You never bad a drinking hus
band, ma'am, I suppose t”
“Bless you I no, never 1 I could
aot abide the breath. A woman
might to be on her guard.”
“It seems so strange. Widow
hood seems natoral to some women
(hey thrive and grow pretty upon
it."
The widow laughed, saying^—
“I never gave it a thought—but
it may be so."
“Going to be married the fourth
time 1 Not a chick nor child I not
forty yet, and plump and pretty as
.ever I Upon my word, ma’am, I
.don’t see bow you manage."
“Ob, that’s a secret.”
Mrs. Fittem opened her eyes
wide, and slowly repeated,—
“A secret !”
“Tee, indeed { I have found it
work adrpirably with three has-
bands, doubt not it wilt work
just as .well with the fourth.*
“Bless my heart r exclaimed the
■dressmaker, dropping the cord she
was covering to pat the flounce on
with, and an ill-disgnised horror on
hex face.
“Oh, I didn't kill my three hus
bands. They were dotingly fond of
me v> the last, and left me provid
ed for.” - c r <
and an expectant, not to say pain
ful hope, brightened her wan face.
“It isn't much, Mrs. Fittem, and
yet it is a secret, and its applica
tion has been, as it wire, disastrous
ju my ease. I am sore I never ex
pected it.*"
“Dear me j you seem to own up to
something. Did they die suddenly,
poor critters 1“
“Quite the oootrajy; they linger-
•d along as if loth to go.”
“Poor critters! | shonEd have
hr
ithonght yon would have* felt bad.”
“I did indeedand the
woman preparing to wed her
VOL XU U0 7.
husband wept ah t}e memory of the
three.
, ‘,‘Do tell me all about it," persist
ed the other with a look not sympa
tbetio. “Your tears haven’t seem
ed to dim yenr handsome eyes.”
“I dch’t know about that—I nev
er thought about it—but. Mrs. Fit
tem, first and last I have eried a
great deal.” '
“Perhaps yon had a reason un
known to the world, ma’am, But
I want dreadfully to know how you
managed it.”
Our widow was a sort, of widow
Wadley—easily begniled to teals ov
smiles—and she began to perceive
that the astute dressmaker bad
some latent design in thus question
ing her, which she did not object to
gratify. Accordingly she assumed
the narrative form, while the needle
ot her auditor chicked against her
thimble in concert.
“My first husband you must
know, was well-to-do, but not rich.
He was wbat is called a model man.
We went to obnrch every Sunday,
and dropped twenty-five cents each
into the contribntion-box—never
more or less. I knit him stockings
and made him shirts; he liked to
see women indnsthous, and I was
industrious. We went to lectures,
and now and then to a s< ejaj party
—always at home ami in bed at ten
o’clock. He was agreeable in tem
per, and apt to drop to sleep. Slow,
and automatic in movement. He
had a way of looking into kettles
and jars, as if be expected to find
things out of order; and he did so
find them, sometimes—it was a com
fort to him. He read my letters;
he liked it. He poked over my bu
reau drawers, and saw all my gloves
and laces in such a mess—and in
the mildest way reprimanded me.
This was a comfort to him, also. He
had not a fault: he had uot a vice ;
he bad uot au inordinate desire. 1
wished he bad.”
“You wicked woman!” ejaculated
the dressmaker. “You didn’t know
when you were well off.”
“I know it—I know it—I didn’t
somehow grow good with such a
man as 1 ought to hare done, but
when he was gone I saw it all, and
almost cried my eyes out. You see
a man is a good thing about the
house, to lock the doors and look
after things. When a woman is
once used to having oue around she
is sure to feel lonesome and out of
sorts when he is gone, 1 learned
to think a dull husband by no means
undesirable as a husband Now the
second husband. I wore my widow’s
weeds the conventional period,
though several of the most agree
able men were attentive to me, but
I shat try eyes. I managed to pre
vent them from pro|H>siug, for I
rather liked my freedom, and some
how three excellent men, who bad
known my excellent husband, were
not to my mind. 1 am afraid 1 hat
ed good men."
The dressmaker groaned.
“Oh. how could you f lam sure
such a husband must be beautiful.”
“That is true, Mrs Fittem—and
he thought me beautiful. But you
must understand he was a mode:
man, and he did his best to make
me a model woman—but it was uot
in me. We women are naturally
perverse, and apt to think our way
as good as a mutt’s way."
“So it is, only a good deal better,”
muttered the other.
“1 don’t know about that. I am
apt to think a man is wiser about
many things than we are * but, any
way, married people will quarrel as
a rule, because each is bent upon
his own way. Now I never dispu
ted a husband.—never, never op
posed him. But, as I was going
to say, oue of my admirers was of a
different kind. He was bright,
dashing, high spirited and witty.
He quite took me by storm ot con
trast. He was not a model man by
any means, but he was intelligent,
loved boats, and had a fine taste
for mnsic. He bad a mean opinion
of women in general, and was some
times furious at himself for loving
me. He declared he would be mas
ter in spite of me, which was quite
unnecessary, tor I rather liked to
have a master as saving trouble
aqd responsibility.. I bate disputes
and fuss of any kind, and let mat
ters slide in the easiest manner pos
sible."
“I should think you might be a
little lazy," returned her auditor.
“Is that the name tor it f Well,
perhaps I am. He would get into
afnryabout his buttons, end be
cause a door creaked, or the coffee
was poor, and storm about the
house, and slam doors and kick
over chairs, at which 1 only said,
••FOR U8 PRINCIPLE IS PRINCIPLE—RIGHT IS RIGHT—YESTERDAY, TO-DAY. TO MORROW, FOREVER.”
DARLINGTON, S. 0.. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18,1886.
“Do feU VM $ow secret, aa’aa," u’Softly, softly, dear,’ which only
made him worse ”
“I believe yon,” said tbe dress
maker.
“He even called me a devil once,
in a sort of tender flt, and .quoted
Shakespeare:—
••Perdition oatoh my soul, but I do lore
thee I'
“He said I would sit perfectly*
calm on s husband’* coflin while be
smothered beneath, for what is a
woman to do, but be quiet, while a
big, strong man is raging shout
nothing. In one of these spells be
broke a bio >d vessel on tbe brain,
sad ay autopsy showed s disease of
the brain, which was pitiful to think
about.”
“I wonder he hadn’t killed yon,"
was the response ot Mrs. Fittem.
“My third husband was all senti
ment, anil called me pet names,
that wonld have delighted Fanny
Osgood, tbe poet. I took them all
patiently.”
“Patiently!” cried tbe hearer.
“It must have beeu delightful.”
“Yes, wheu. be called me pet, I
had au excuse for being girlish, If
birdie, L might trill my notes;
qneeuy might be cold and prond, so
he had it all his own way. But
your sentimental man wants a good
deal of sentiment in return; must
be indulged aud coddled, aud sees
everything in a sweet Arcadian
light; wants bis wife to dress in
oat of the-way styles.”
“I went about mindless cf tbe ces-
tns of Yenns, and had au excase for
showing my beaotitd! hair, and
dawled over Moore aud Byron, feel
ing internally that I was a poor
goose, and a sort of frand, for too
much sentiment is very tiresome.”
“And be died like the rest f”
“Yes,” aud tbe widow tapped a
small boot upon tbe carpet mas
iugly.
“It seem to me that your second
husband understood you better
than the others,” remarked the
dressmaker.
“How sof no matter; bat you
must see that I am right iu think
ing you do not know how to man
age your husband, Mrs. Fittem.”
“You have not told me your se
cret.”
“Do you not guess it!”
“ft seems to me that you let them
have their own way.”
“To be sure I did. It is fatal to
mauor to woman always to have
their own way, A little atteutiou
is tbe passport of love. Nothing is
more fatal than indifference.”
“And you married three men and
indiflerent to all!”
The. widow reddened.
“Perhaps I am naturally of that
kind, while you, Mrs. Fittern, op
pose, fret scold, and are uot happy
yourself, nor do you make him any
the better man; men are uot easily
turned about.”
“What would you do iu a case
like mine, where a man drinks f”
“I would manage just the same.”
“But how, ma’am, how ?”
“Well, well,” muttered the widow
half to herself, “I can’t find opin
ions and make annotations on
them.”
“Do tell yonr secret, now I can
not for my life guess what it is.”
•‘Dear Mrs. Fittem, you are air
admirable dressmaker—my silk, to
use my own illustration, sets like a
duck’s foot iu tbe mud; but vou
don’t know* how to manage a hus
band. You must come the moruiug
I am to married and see that I am
all right. Mr. Black is fastidious.
My hat is a perfect love ot a hat,
aud makes me look charmingly;
but let me advise,” laying at the
same time a nicely gauntleted hand
on Mrs. Fit tern’s shoulder, “let your
husband have bis own way,” aud
she whirled her limber little shape
out of tbe door, with a musical
laugh that did uotcriukle her cheek
nor pucker her eyes.
“Mrs. Fittem gave the moou-
upon-the-lake dress a somewhat
kick and exclaimed,—
“She’s a devil—that’s what she
is, aud that’s tbe way she has made
herself three times a widow. ’
“So are all women,” hiccoughed
a tnauldin voice just coming in over
the rear threshold. “Who are you
contemplating, lovey f Who is it!”
The dressmaker eyed him a mo
ment scornfully, but the caUiug her
“lovey” did the business for him;
with mingled tears and smiles she
patted bis dusty shoulder, and re
plied,—
“Bear, dear ducky, the nice little
widow has been telling me how-—
bow I might be a widow."
“She has f She understands tbe
business, I should think.” Tbe idea
bad tbe effect to sober him. “What
did she want you to do, lovey ?"
“Wei*—it was dreadful!”
“Well, well, what was it I I’ll
have a warrant out and arrest her;
I’ll have her shown up for wbat she
is—the sbb Bbrry Tudor—the she
Blue Beard that she is," and he
went so far as to kiss the cheek of
bis poor wife, who quite broke
down under this unwonted tender
ness, and threw herself into his
arms, •
“I will never do it. dnekey, nev-
er,B M i n <1 {‘I
“I am s#rd of it, ! <**( trust jod-
“You are hoc flt to be a poor lone
widow. You need the protecting
arm of some bnsband."
Mrs. Fittem drew heraelf up a bit
at this; there was rebellion in her
look.
“Yes, she (old me her secret," she
said. -
“What was it, lovey 1 I am sure
you would not hurt a hair of the
head of your froor, devoted—"
Here he broke down from some
cause or /njMsyand. staggered to ope
side. * *
“I told her about your drinking
so, James, and. how you spent' my
earnings, aud how I got oat of ail
patience aud sometimes well nigh
bate you.” This was said with very
grave sole mu; ty, and then she ad
ded briskly. “What do you think
she told m*' to do f”
“Oonhln’t guess; but Pm very
sure you won’t do it."
“Never—you would not live a
month.”
“Do tell—do.tell what it was."
“She tobl mei to let yon have yonr
own way—think of that!”
Tbe man’s eyes twinkled with
wicked mirth.
“That wasn’t so bad, lovey."
.“Not ao bad ! . why, you would
drink yourself to death iu a month
or leas, if I let yon h^ve yonr own
way.’.
“Ob, no; I would be cautious for
your dear sake, so uufit to be a wi
dow. Let me have my own way,
lovey ; PH take the risk." «
And she did—she followed the
widow’s advice. Under tbe circuin
stances, the reader can easily di
vine why Mrs. Fittem became a wi
dow.
Is the Country Lawyer’* OflUt.
ife wanted justice. Yo« could
see that in his eyes afar oft. He
didn’t want a little bit of justice
weighed out iu a gingerly manner
and done up ip a coarse brown pa
per, but be wanted justice by the
car load and at wholesale rates. He
hitched bis old white horse and di
lapidated baggy in front of the drug
store, mounted the stairs running
up outside to the second story, ami
bis eyes bnghtruod as they rested
on the tin sign on the door : “Geo.
Boxem, Attorney at-Law.” The
lawyer was iu. So were a two-dol-
lar desk, two ftiteen cent chairs, a
huge cuspidor, aud a rusty stove.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
“I’m John White, sir. Live out
by Gray’s Corners. Bought Tomp
kins’ farm, you know.”
“Ah j”
“Skinner jines tarm with me. His
steers got into my com. I want
damages but he laughed at rue. I
turn iny bogs into his’taler patch.”
“Good ! I like a man of spunk.”
“Aud he kills oue of’em.”
“What!”
“He kills a hog worth two dol
lars.”
“You don’t s^y ! We 1 !, that man
ought to be made to nnderstiud
that he doesn’t own this county.
What an outrage! Have you de
manded pay.”
“Oh, yes, aud he said he’d like to
shoot me.”
“Is it possible 1 Why, Ire’s a dan
gerous man, very dangerous.”*
“I came to ask you if—if—”
“Why, of course you have the
best kind of a ease against him, and
it is yonr duty to push' it.”
“Yea, I want justice, but how—
how much will—”
“Oh, the cost will be nothing
Just leave me $5 as a retainer and
we’ll make Skinner sweat. I have
uot heard such an outrage tor years
He probably reasons that yon are
chicken-hearted and afraid of him.''
“Well, he’ll find that the Whites
have as much grit as the Skinners.”
•‘And as much money to law
with f”
“You beti”
“That’s the talk! We’ll make
him a very sick man. Your case
appeals to me as a citizen as well
as a lawyer, Now, we’ll secure a
warrant as a starter.”
Skinner visits the other lawyer in
the same village, and the conversa
tion is about the same. White gets
a warrant for Skinner, and Skinner
gets a warrant for White.
First year-*-Two adjournments, a
disagreement, twenty-four days lost
time, aud a cash expense of $58 to
each farmer.
Second year—Three trials, oue
disagreement, four adjournments,
one^appeal, aud a cash ex|>euse ot
$150 to each farmer. Time lost,
thirty five days.
Third year—Two trials, two ap
peals, two decisions, and two farms
pass into the b aids of (wo lawyers.
—Y. Y. Sun.
As lupsrtaet Dlscsvciy.
The most important Discovery
is that which brings the most good
to the greatest number. Dr.
New Discovery for Consumption,
Coughs, aud Colds, will preserve
the health aud s save life, and is a
priceless boon to the afflicted. Not
only does it. positively cure Con
sumption, butCoughs, Golds, Bron
chitis, Asthma, Hoarseness, and alt
affections of tbe Throat, Chest, anti
Lungs, yield at once to its wonder
tnl curative powers. If yoo doubt
this, get a Trial Bottle Free, at
Willcox & Co’s^ Drug Store
Thi dame’of tbe *ne'w Swedish
Mruister of Hie United States is
Fjolu He isn’t as skittish as a
young cjolt, but is said to have a
powerful! hiolt on tbe English Ijan-
goage.
■sektea * firsts* fislvs.
The best Salve iu the world for
Cuts, Bruises, Ulcers, Salt Rheum,
Fever Bores, Tetter, Chapped
Hands, Chilblains, Corns, and all
Skin Eruptions, and positively
cerss Piles, or no pay required, jt
is guaranteed to give perfect satis
faction, or money refunded. Price
25 cents per box. For sale by Will-
cox A Co. *
The “Hume Rate qeeitloa.’
59 Clifton ohkscrnt, Asylum )
Koad, Pkckham, London, 8. E. V
Bh January, 1386. )
To the Editor of the Nation.
Dear Sir—The enclosed letter,
which appeared in all the Kentish
journals, written by an Englishman,
who is the President of the Inde
pendent Radical hotly of Kent, may
be of interest to your readers.
Yours faithfully,
Robert Cally.
To the Editon of the Dart/ord and
West Kent Advertiser: Sir—Upon
the resumption o f business iu
Parliament there will be presented
lo the world a spectacle without
parallel in the legislative annals of
this copntry. Two-hundred and
fifty-one gentlemen, many of them
actuated by purely personal and
selfish ideas, but al} at preset*
happily iu tire possession of jrower
and pelf, styling themselves “Con
servatives,” will confront a some
what stronger body, composed of
numerous discordant elements tem
porarily linked together by the
bonds o! greed, envy and hope,
styling themselves “Liberals.”
These parties of disinterested pa
triots, the “Haves and the Wants,”
would at once set to wor k at their
ordinary and congenial occupation
of contending with each other for
the privilege of plundering their
hard working constituents, but for
the fact that there will stand be
tween tbe figure of their victims,
“Erin,” with partially healed
wounds, no longer prostrate aud
supplicating, but erect even defiant,
secure iu the protection of the
phalanx of stern, resolute men
whose only motives are love of
country, and whose ambition is to
serve the honorable cause they bold
dear. History is repeating itself.
Let those beware who neglect the
warning that events por end. or
who oppose themselves to the inex
orable aud retributive pi fate. For
generations Ireland has been de
pressed. $lie has continually aud
designedly been driven (o insurrec
tion, fn order that excuse might be
furnished for the vilest aud most
cruel acts of repression, Her trade
has beeu restrained and her urau-
facturiug industries ruined by sel
fish legislation Her religion has
beeu scoffed at and outraged, and
its practice made a penal offence.
Her substance has been drained by
the thousands of useless British
aristocratic parasites that have
beeu quartered upon her, aud also
by the constant exportation of her
wealth to supply absentee land
lords with the means for debauchery.
When she was tor a short time in
dependent aud comparatively pros
perous. she was not allowed to rest;
no stone was left unturned that
might create isseusion, and finally
bribery and corruption of the worst
kind (no less than one half million
having been expended) were used
to complete that most disgraceful
chapter of English history, the “Act
of Union.” Since this fatal event
Ireland has been depopulated by
expatriation and want. Even be
tween 1845 and 1851 the pojiiil tiou
decreased three millions. During
the terrible famine that took place
^-disasters brought ou by mis-
government—the people were mock
ed with “relief acts,” which* pro
cured no benefit and were intended
only to serve the purposes of the
government of the day. The life
and health of the country have dis
appeared ; the fine buildings in
Dublin, formerly occupied by the
elite of the land, are eittu r tenant
less or used for humbler purposes.
Whig and Tory statesmen (more
especially: Whigs) have vied with
each other in making nse of the
miseries of the people to serve their
own ends, aud, have from time to
time tbrowu to them such remedial
measures—fatholic Emancipation,
Disestablishment of the Irish
Church, laid Bill, etc., as i o'itical
exigencies rendered expedient. The
government of England baa been
the rule of tyranny, coercion and
fraud. From time immemorial, in
connection with trumped-up distur
bances, innocent men have been ex
ecuted upon concocted evidence of
peijured informers, given before
packed juries, aud judges who have
been either partisans, or who, if
honest, have very soon paid the
penalty of their integrity. 4.11 that
l have stated, aud much more, has
been done to a people renowned
for virtue, truth and fidelity. Tbe
British people must bear tbe re
sponsibility, not because they, as
s people, desired it or took part iu
it, but because they, being them
selves fellow safierers, bed uo( tbe
manliness or courage to show that
they wonld neither eudnre nor per
mit oppression. The time for ac
tion has now arrived. Bo for as
fm are able to do so, (be past must
be repaired. The Jriah people will
not be sale so long as that nest of
corruptieu, Dublin <Ja(tle, exists,
or so long ss they have not full,
entire and sole control of their own
affairs.. Ireland mast no longer be
tbe sport of political parties or the
bunting ground for aristocratic
banditti. We have sympathized
with Hnngariahs, Foies. Italian^
Bulgarians aud < tber nationalities.
An our hearts apd ears to be closet)
WHOLE NO 580.
to the claims aud ones of our Irish
brethren, who. iu spite of our treat
ment have fought for ua upon many
sanguinary fields! Let the servile
herd, who act as jackals to political
leaders, in the hope cl getting a
small share ot the spoils, and who
prate about ‘‘danger to the inte
grity of the Empire,” though well
knowing that no such risk will ex
jst, go their way ; and if the present
government should bo so blind as
not to perceive (bat they can de
monstrate by a bold stroke of policy
and equity that the bigoted Tory
ism of old no longer exists, and
thereby ailaehiug themselves to all
those whose guides are their con
sciences, then iu that case, it will
lie for the independent Radical
party, and the working classes
generally throughout Great Britain,
to remember that the oppressors ot
Ireland are their own foes, und
gauging themselves b.V the side of
tbe Irish people it will be their duty
to make common cause with them,
and to fight to the bitter end for the
attainment of the just demands
which their representatives will
promulgate. I, for one, should wel
come such a contest, aud f should
have no fear as to the ultimate re
sult. I have the honor to be, sir,
your obedient servant.
Albert Solomons.
Horn’s Cross, Stone, near Hartford,
Kent. • .
Outwitting tee tibo»t
But, if primitive man know how
to bullv, be also knew how to ont
wit the ghost. For example, a ghost
can only find bis way back to the
house by the way by « hich he left
it This little weakness did not
escape the vigilance of oqr ances
tors, and they took their measures
accordingly. The coffin was carried
ont ot the honse, not by the door,
but by a bole made for the purpose
in the wall, and this hole was care
fully stopped np as soon as the body
had been passed through it; sg that
when tbe ghost strolled quietly
back from the grave, he found to
his surprise that there was no
thoroughfare. 'I be credit of this in
geuious device is shared equally hy
Greenlandeis. Hottentots, Bech
uanas, Samoieds, Ojibways, Algon-
quins, Hindoos, Thibetans, .Siamese,
Chinese, and Feejeeans. These
special openings, or “doors of tjie
dead,” are still to he seen in a vill
age ne r Amsterdam, and they were
common in some towns of central
Italy, as I’erugia and Assisi. A
trece ot the same custom survives
in Thuriugcn, where it was thought
that the ghost of a man who has
been banged will return to the
house if the body be not taken out
by a window instead of the door.
The Siamese, uot content yrith
carrying the dead man out by a
special opening, endeavor to make
assurance doubly sure by hurrying
him three times round the house at
lull speed—a proceeding well calcu
lated to bewilder the pgjr soul in
the cofiiu.
The Araucantans adopt the plan
of strewing ashes behind the coffin
as it is being tioruo to the grave, in
order that the ghost may not be
able to find hig way back.
The veiy general practice of clos
iiig tbe eyes of tbe dead appqars to
have originated with a simi ar ob
ject; it was a mode of blindfolding
the dead, that be might not see the
way by which he was carried to his
last home*—-James O. Frazer, in
Popular Science Monthly for Sep
tember.
Waul* lo Set Sack.
On two occasions recently the
New York World has contained ad
vertisements from former slaves
who desired t» find masters and en
ter again into tbe Btate ot slavery.
Tired of the bard struggle to main
tain existence in a hard world, they
sigh for the flesbiiots of which they
formerly partook, without eare for
tbe present or anxiety for the fa
ture.
Bat here is the card of tbe last
one. ft speaks for itself aud if a
sad chapter ju the history of (be
times
“Several months ago some unfor
tunate, weary ot the vicissitudes of
freedom, concluded tq go iuto sla
very and advertised iu your col
utnns for a master. If 1 am not
mistaken, he succeeded iu finding
one; and now, if that master of his
wants another slave, I am oo tbe
block. Tbrowu suddenly out of
employment iu tbe dead of winter,
'‘alone, aufrieuded, melancholy,’
though not particularly ‘slow,’ 1 am
at a loss bow to live. My late em
ployer, Talleyrand like, ‘does not
seethe necessity of it' Myfotherwas
a cotton planter and 1 do not dread
slavery. I cannct oook and wash.
Bat 1 can address 1,600 envelopes
per diem aud write brief business
letters. 1 can also wrttejread*bU>
articles ou opy topic of the day, ex
cept agriculture and foreign mis
sions. I can also teach young ideas
iiow to shoot Won’t some friend
o/ humanity repudiate the thir
teenth amendiueot and . take qu» as
a g'aye ! Otherwise Ahvge is noth
jpg before me hut to attempt to leap
from tbe Brooklyn bridge.
Frq Slavery Woman.
Our job department isjupplied with over j
to enable 1u._ttmu14.au
bolb aq tp price god quality of work, witb.et. a
those of the cities, and we guarantee •stif;
faction in every particnlar or charge nothing
for our work. Weareslwayo prepared :«
fill orderv at short aotico for Blank*, Bilj
Head*, Uttar Heads. Cards, Rand Btjlf
Poster*, Circular*. Pamphlet*, Ae,
All job wprk must be paid lot
Cash on Delivery,
■oo«y on rnhlie Speaking.
Mr. D. L Moody is very foud of
talking to tbe boys of tbe schools
near lu» home, sometimes on Bible
subjects and sometimes on othejr
topics. Addressing a class once 011
publio speaking he made the follqw-
ing points:
I. Don't talk top much.
‘J. Don’t talk unless you are poq.
ted,
3. Give the best yoq liqve.
4. Don’t talk when people arp
asleep. Wake some one man and
you will hold tbe rest.
5 Dou’t try to chow off yoqr
learning
6. Get hold of the most ^upid
man and you’ll hold the rest r
7- Don’t try, bat dou’t be atrafo
to moke people laugh Milk tha(
slops oue way will the other.
8 Be natural; don’t, (ry to be
some one else.
9. Avoid cant and pulpit tones,
10. Dou’t talk too teug. A mail
iu London, who preached until the
people all left, said be thought i(
was a pity to stop when there was
anybody to hear.
II. Don’t hesitate to repeat w.bat
God uses.
12. Don’t keep pp talking Just bs,
cause yon are bolding the audience.
Send them away hungry.
13. While people are gathering
use the time wiph song.
If Shoot where peppie bland.
As the ojri Quaker said to the bur
glar : “Friend. I am going to shout
where thee stands. Thee had bet
ter get out of the way ”
15 Dou’t gesture aud move about
too much, and dou’t talk with youf
hands in yopr pockets, • ‘
(a Had l# Ruse loraplag.
Edward Shepherd, ot Harrisburg,
111., says: “Having received sq
much benefit from Electric Bitters,
i feel it my duty to let safferiug
humanity know it. Have had a
running 9010 pn my leg for eight
years; my doctors told me I would
have to have the bone scraped or
leg amputated. I used, instead,
three bottles of Electric Bitters und
seven boxes Buck leu’s Arnica Salve,
aud my leg is now spuud apd well."
Electric Bitters are sold at fifty
ccnta a bottle, and Bucklen’s Arnicq
Salve at 25c per box by Willcax A
Up. *
The OM Lnfljr’* E|e*lrkt
The jndiauapolis Jourual says;
W W. Herod made a speech to a
jury the other day, in which lie re
ferred to a witness who, while be was
terrifie l at seeing a numberrf things
that favored the other aide, could
not repiember things nearer amj
greater that yvoul.d have helped Mr.
Herod’s c'ient.
dTho witness," aaid Mr. Herod,
“reminds me of au pldlady down iq
Bartholomew county, Bhe was
nearly 80 3 ears old, aud, much tp
tbe dismay of her sops and daugh
ters, contempla(ed n atr ipony with
a farm band who was about 22
years out. The old lady bad consid
erable property, aud the fact was ad
ditional reason for opposition pu the
part of bey children. She was re
monstrated with, and JJimljy p&e of
the sons sard :
“Why, mother, you are too old
to marr> ; your eyesight is almost
gone; you couidn’( see William if
he was put out thereon the barn."
“The old ladv thought she coaid.
and finally agreed that if she conh)
uot she would forego the mayyiags
and pass the remainder of fley/lays
in single blessed nets-
‘•The sons went and got the young
man, a ladder was placed against
the barn, and be mounted tbe yoof.
Shading her eyes with her hand,
tbe old lady looked long aud anx*
iously, and finally broke out with :
“Well, it ia cur’us; 1 can’t see the
barn, bull can see William.?
A child’s greatest enemy is worms
Who can calculate tbe misery and
suffering a child has to endnre who
is infested with worms! Sbriuer’s
Indian Yerroifugo wiM destroy and
expel worms from both cbildreR
and adults. Duly 25 ceute a bottja.
“Pa,” said a little boy, “wbat ia
f” “I can’t
can
C*
an absolute monarchy
explain it, my son. so that yoo
comprehend it. wait until you
married, my son, a°4 (hen you will
know it/’
Dio Lewis thinks people should
go to bed at nine aud get np at five
Tbe unsophisticated doctor does
uot appear to be i^sre that it is
between those sQ (he fuq
comes off.
i>
“la it true tfcfit jpf bee can Mil
more in proportion fhau a horse!—
Anxious” “Oh! yes. it is also
true that a bee can push uioye tjhpq
be ean pult-"
“Coming events east (hue* kIi»' v *
ows before.? 4 roller rink has been
rented by the Salva ion Army.
They will coutinne to “Bring dpwn
4*1/’ at the eld stand.
Cannibalism is still praotwed
1,250,0Q0 people, aud it is veiy <
dent tbe demand for mi
will leaf exseed tbe supply.