ORPHANS’ PRIEPJD.
11, IS77.
i'llK OF A FKEi^CH
iTIlS$80!«AKV.
i.
r]arly in the last century Fi-ance
occupied the mouth of the Mis
sissippi, and her adventurous tra
ders and colonists began to dot
the shore with little settlements
to cotinect the new colony of
Lousiana with Illinois. Their
histoiy is full of romance. Let
one adventure serve as a sample.
Doutreleau, a missionary in Il
linois, needing supplies for his
station in the wilderness, started
in a flat-boat down the river, late
in t he fall, to meet the vessels
from Europe. Day by day the
oarsmen sped along, no human
sound echoing to their strokes;
the quick-growing cottonwood
fringing the shores, save where
occasionally a stretch of prairie
would strike through, giving
glimpses of buffalo and other
game.
But the scene began to change,
canes began to appear, they were
nearing the lower riv’er, and an
other day would bring them to
Fort Eosalie, the French post
among the Natchez Indians.
Deeming it impossible to make
it in one day, and the day being
Sunday, they ran ashore, and
prepared to have divine service.
The missionaiy and one of his
boatmen arranged a rustic altar,
and his other men, meanwdiile,
auiuseU themselves shooting at
wild fowl along the bank. The
priest was at last ready, attired in
Ins well-worn missionary vest
ments, borne many a weary mile
through the wilderness.
The little group soon gathered
before the altar, and the service
was about to begin, when two
Indian canoes ran into the shore.
The fed men landed, and being
bailed, replied : “ Yazoos; friends
of the French.”
The voyageurs knelt down, and
the service of the day began, the
Indians kneeling behind. The
priest had ended the preliminary
pravers, and advanced to the al
tar to read the ‘ intioit’ from the
missal, when a rattle of musketry
broke upon the ear.
The Indians, with the stealthi
ness of the wild beasts of the
desert, had covered the group
with their rifles. The missionary
turned and saw at a glance the
whole story. Two of his com
panions lay prostrate, the rest
were in flight, pursued by the In
dians, who were endeavoring to
cut off their escape.
He stooped to the fallen, and
found that he himself was badly
wounded in the arm. A glance
showed him that the forms before
him were beyond all human aid.
Should he attempt to escape ?
A thrill of hope shot through him
as he perceived that the fugitives,
wily by long backwood practice,
had not made, in the first instance,
for their boat, which, fortunately,
had been laid up out of sight.
He rushed to it, and began, in
spite of wounds, to launch it. He
had, by the energy of despair,
got it afloat, when hi» surviving
men came up and sprang in.
Tliey were off, but the Indians
took to their canoes, and escape
was apparently impossible. Two
only could row, the rest were dis
abled ; they were without arms
or provisions, or means of getting
them. The Indians gained ; their
war-whoops resounded nearer and
nearer; their bullets whistled
around the ears of the doomed
Frenchmen. What was to be
done ?
Doutreleau suddenly bethought
him of an old musket, sent down
the river for repairs. It was with
out a lock, but it might serve,
liaising it to his shoulder,, the
missionary, still garbed as he had
been at the altar, aimed at the
head man in the pursuing canoe.
The medicine-man of the French,
armed, was no insignificant ob
ject to the red man; the canoe
relaxed its speed. But again they
rallied, and the small gain ob
tained by the French was almost
lost when the same stratagem
produced almost the same result.
At last, toward night, they gave
up tlie pursuit, in order to return
and secure the booty. Night
broughtnew terrors to the French.
They were far from New Orleans.
Was this an isolated act of vio
lence, or had the Indians risen ?
A Small piece of salt pork was
their only resource against star
vation.
Stealthily they paddled on du
ring the night, and da}'' found
them near Natcliez. The canoes
that came off with braves, gro
tesquely decked in European
finery, showed them that Fort
Eosalie had fallen. The yells
and war-cries gave them no liope,
when a flat-boat, lighter and bet
ter than their own, floated by
them. Securing this, they found
in it arms and food. A few shots
drove off the Natchez Indians,
too sated with blood to pursue
them, and they all, at last, reach
ed New Orleans in safet}', to learn
the terrible story of the massacre
at Fort Eosalie.—Frank Leslie's
Sunday Magazine.
THE CIllED AT THE TOMB.
At Smyrna, the burial-ground
of the Armenian like that of the
Moslem, is removed a short dis
tance from the town, is sprinkled
with green trees and is a favorite
resort, not only witli the bereav
ed, blit with those whose feelings
are not thus darkly overcast. I
met there one morning a little
girl with a half-playful counte
nance, blushy blue eyes, and sun
ny locks, bearing in one hand a
small cup of china, in the otlier a
wreath of fresh flowers. Feeling
a very natural curiosity to know
what she could do with these
bright things in a place that seem
ed to partake so much of sadness,
I watched her light motions.
Eeaohing a retired grave, covered
with a plain marble slab, she emp
tied the seed (which it appears the
cup contained) into the slight
cavities which had been scooped
out of the corners of the level tab
let, and laid the wreath upon its
pure face.
“And why,” I inquired, “my
sweet girl, do you put seeds in
those little bowls thus?
“It is to bring the birds here,”
she replied, with a half wonder
ing look; “they will alight on this
tree,” pointing to the cypie s
above, “when they have eaten
the seed, and sing.”
“To whom do they sing?” I
asked; “to you or each other?”
“Oh, no!” rhe replied; “to my
sister She sleeps here?”
“But your sister is dead.”
“Oh, }'es, sir! But she hears all
the birds sing.”
“Well, if she does hear the
birds sing, she cannot see the
wreath of flowers.”
“But she knows I put it there,
I told her, before they took her
away from our house, that I
would come and see her every
.morning.”
“You must,” I continued, “have
loved that sister very much; but
you will never talk with her any
more—never see her again.”
“Yes, sir;” she replied, with a
brightened look; “1 shall see her
in heaven.”
“But she has gone there alrea
dy, I trust.”
“No; she stops under this tree
until they bring me here, and
then we are going to heaven to
gether.”—Granville Echo.
WANTEB TO «BT ON THE JE-
KY.
Piesently the stillness of the
courtroom was interrupted by the
entrance of a man who came in
with a shuffling, uneasv step, and
witli his hat in his hand. He
halted and leaned against the rail
ing. Nobody took the slightest
notice of him, however. At last
he took courage and spoke:
“Is tlie Judge in?”
The clerk immediately awoke
his Honor.
“Well, what do you want?”
“I’m looking for a job, your
Honor. I’ve been looking for
work over a month.
“There’s nothing for you here.”
“I thought you occa.sionally
gave jurymen a job. I don’t read
newspapers any, and being a
stranger in town I haven’t got
any prejudices agin anybody. A
pard of mine wrote down to me
at Eeno, last week, and said tliat
the jury business up here was
brisk and it would pay to come
up. As I’m a stranger to you and
a little hard up, I’ll start in and
serve for half price till you kiii
see what I kin do.”
“What are your main qualifi
cations?”
“My strong suit is in makln a
jury agree. No juries ever get
hung if I am on ’em. I just lay
low till they take the first ballot,
then jine the majority and argue
the rest into it. I can disccunt
any lawyer talking. I can show
’em up points they never tumbled
to before. Sometimes I have to
use force, but seldom. Once, down
at Touckee, in a murder case,
there were a couple of fellers stan-
din’ out again bangin’, and after
arguing with ’em as smooth and
gentlemanly as I could for over a
quarter of an hour, I went for ’em
with chairs, and by the time Td
busted half a dozen pieces of fur
niture over ’em they was glad to
come in with a virdict of ‘Murder
in the first degree,’ and the feller
was hung not long afterward. In
these justice courts I can get on
the jury, and it you’ll just give a
wink as to how you want the case
to go. I’ll guarantee to fetch in
the virdict you want, or not take
a cent.”
The man was told to drop
round again in a day or so and
tney would trj’ and make a va
cancy tor I dm. In order to do it,
however, some regular juryman
will probably have to be dis
charged.—Virginia City Chroni
cle.
TKYINtii TO EOVE GOD.
“ Your mistake, my dear sir, is
simply this; You are trying to
love God.”
“Just so. I have been trying
for long.’
‘ And you have not yet suc
ceeded ?’
‘Not yet; but I may come to
it’
‘Never, never, will you love
God by trying.’
‘ Why so ? Is it not right to
love him I’
‘Most certainly It is ; hut you
are going the wrong way about
it. Do you try to love your wife
and ciiildren ?’
‘ Of course not; I simply love
them.’
‘ Well, don’t you see that love
cannot be forced ? It is a simple,
easy, natural thing. If it seems
absurd to try aud love your wife
and children, it is much more so
to try and love God.’
‘ What, then, am I to do ?’
‘First, give up all trying and
turning into y-ourself. You will
never find in self a ground or
reason to love God.’
‘ What next ?’
‘ Why, then, you are sufficient
ly free to think of His love to you,
not of yours to Him. We love
Him, because he Jirst loved us;
not, ‘We love Him, therefore He
loves us.’ Such is your blunder.
You are putting your love to
Him first, and then suppose He
will love you because of your
love to Him. This is a grand
mistake from beginning to end.
It is a very foolisli and false
thought, aud is a fruitful source
of distress to anxious souls.’
‘ And does He really love me V
‘ He does. I am not at all sur
prised at your question, it does
seem so strange that He should
love sinners, and love them, too,
with such a love that He gave
Himself for sinners, for us, for
\'0u, that you might live—be
saved—-and love Him for ever.’
‘ 0 I feel as if I can’t help lov
ing Him !’
‘ Why ?’
‘ Because I see now that He
loved me—loved me ivhen I was
a sinner, and loved me in my
sins and that before ever I had
one moving of the heait toward
Him.’
‘ Ah ! I see it is with you as it
was with one who, like you, gave
up all ‘ tiwing,’ and broke out
with, ‘O Lord Jesius, I didn’t
know von were so good.”
Wlien the march of improve
ment brought the new mode of
doing business, they were often
pained by the innovations. An
anecdote is handed down of a
farmer who had been to the Low
lands and learned worldly wis
dom.
On returning to his native par
ish he had need of a sum of mon
ey, and made bold to ask from a
gentleman of means named Stew
art. This was kindly granted,
and Mr. Stewart counted out the
gold. This done, the farmer
wrote a receipt and then offered
it to Mr. Stewart.
“ What is this, man ?” cried Mr.
Stewart, eyeing the slip of paper.
“It’s a receipt, sir, binding me
to give ye back yer gold at the
right time,” said Sandy.
“ Binding ye 1 Weil, my man,
if ye canna trust yerself, Tm sure
I’ll no trust ye. Ye canna have
mv gold.” And gatliering it up,
he I3'it it back in his desk and
turned his eye on it.
“ But, sir, I might die,” replied
the canny Scotchman, bringing
up an argument in favor of his
new wisdom, “ and perhaps my
sons may refuse it yo; but the
bit of paper would compel them.”
“Compel them to sustain a
dead lather’s honor,” cried the
Celt. “They’ll need compelling
to do right, if this is the road ye’re
leading them. Ye can gang else
where for money ; but ye’ll find
nane in the parish that’ll put more
faith In a bit o’ paper than in a
neighbor’s word o’ honor and his
fear o’ God.”
WHAT SMOKING DOES FOB
BOYS.
A certain doctor, struck with
the large number of boys under
fifteen years of age whom he ob
served smoking, was led to in
quire into the effect tlie habit had
upon the general liealth. He took
for his purpose thirty-eight boys,
aged from nine to fifteen, and
carefully examined them. In
twentv-seven of them he discov
ered injurious traces of the habit.
In twenty-two there wei'e vari
ous disorders of the circulation
and digestion, palpitation of the
heart, and more or less marked
taste for strong drink. In twelve
there was frequent bleeding of
the nose; ten had disturbed sleep;
twelve had slight ulcerations of
the mucous membrane of the
mouth, which disappeared on
ceasing from the use of tobacco
tor some days.
The doctor treated them all for
weakness, but with little effect
until the smoking was discontin
ued, when health and strength
were soon restored.
Now, this is no “old wife’s tale,”
as these facts are given on the
authority of the British Medical
Journal.
“I’ll NO TKEST YE.”
Two centuries ago the High
landers of Scotland were very
simple folks, honest and trustful
to their friends and neighbors.
To ask a note from a debtor
would have been considered an
insult, equivalent to saying, “I
doubt your honor.” The method
of transacting money matters was
as follows:
The parties stepped into the
open air, fixed their eyes on the
heavens, and each repeated his
obligation with no mortal witness.
A mark was then carved upon
some rock or tree near by as a
remembrance of the compact.
Such a thing as a breach of com
pact was rarely met with, so
highly did the people regard their
honor.
D.ANGEU OF SEEEFiNGIN THE
MOON-EIGHT.
The evil consequences liable to
result from exposure to a burning
sun are only too well understood ;
but it is, perhaps, not so general
ly known that in many parts of
the world, notably in India, there
is a strong and very general prej
udice against sleeping in full
moonshine, as it is supposed to
produce “ moonstroke.” An old
Indian resident has recentl}’ been
devoting his attention to the sub
ject, and comes to the conclusion
that any ill effects arising from
sleeping in the moonlight are not
duo to any direct influence of the
moon itself. His explanation of
the origin of this prevalent belief
ill the baleful qualities of the
Goddess of Night is very ration
al, and may be summarized thus:
A clear sky admits of rapid radi
ation, and any person exposed lo
such radiation is sure to be chill
ed by rapid heat. There is rea
son to believe that, under the
circumstances, paralysis of one
side of tlie face is sometimes likely
to occur from chill, as one side of
the face is more likely to be ex
posed to rapid radiation, and con
sequent loss of heat. Tlie chill is
more likely to occur when the
sky is perfectly clear and in full
moon. The whole matter thus
comes clear on this explanation.
Prolonged exposure to cold is al
most certain to produce headache,
neuralgia, or even paralysis, ow
ing to the retardation of the cir
culation,-and these similar inju
ries have been attributed to the
moon when the proximate> cause
may really have been the child,
which will always be the greatest
on the very clear nights.
“My dear boy,” said a mother
to her son as Jie handed round
his plate for more turkey, “this is
the fourth time you’ve been help
ed.” “ 1 know, mother,” replied
the boy, “but that turkey peeked
at me once, and I want to get
square with him.” He got his tur
key.