In n H nucj PRINCIPLES ANJD NOT MEN. VOL. IX. Happiness. it is not wealth that brings True happiness to any man, For both mny fly on transient wings, Or last but for a little f-pai. Ambition has no power to charm, When strength and life begin to wane; The world's applause can never calm ' The weary heart in hours of pain. Expected joys elude our grasp, And Vppo grows dim with doubts and fears, Whilebvered pulses long to clasp The anished forms of brighter years. Youth like a phantom steals away, And pleasures follow in its train, While never more by night or day, Can we entice them back again. A well-spent 1 fe that none can bjtme, A conscience from offences free, Unscarred bv wrong and sin and shame, Is onlv true felicity. A noble heart devoid of self, That tries to elevate mankind, And seeks for no reward in pelf, A perfect happiness may find. A loving life whose end and aim Is to d good whate'er betide, To lesson evil, want, and shame, And scatter kindness far and wide. rood deeds aud actions pave the way To make iife's cares and sorows less, To bring contentment day by day, And everlasting happiness. THE LOST DRESS. i A quiet, elderly lady, in a stone :olored merino dress and a black lace :ap, had been anxiously peeping out of .he window of a pretty house in Milk .own, at intervals throughout the dull, ;oId Winter afternoon of a day not ong gone by. When about 5 o'clock, a young girl, mowily clad in terra-cotta red, with m impossible bird, in a cap of impos ible fur. was seen making stately progress down the long street, holding n her arms an immense and puffy orown-paper parcel. Occasionally this young person made an effort to look behind her without turning her head, and when at last she arrived at the doorsteps of the house we have mentioned, she turned coquet tishly to see who it was who" had been walking behind her for some distance. Seeing j ia it was only a hobblede hoy apprentice from the tinman's, with a length of stovepipe under his arm, a Mack smirch on his nose, and no appreciation of a terra-cotta waist coat, twenty inches in circumference in his countenance, she turned away in disgust and rung the bell violently, leaning her back against the door, and regarding the apprentice with a scorn which amazed him, and which proceed ed from the fact that he was not the fine-looking young man, with mus tache, whom she had imagined to be following her. In an instant more she tumbled into the arms of the elderly lady, who had opened the door with unexpected promptitude, amid the derisive laugh ter of the youthful tinman. "Bless me! I hope you haven't hurt yourself?" said the old lady. "And is this really Mr.?. Ruflit's dress at Last? We'd almost given it up." "Madame says she couldn't help it," said the girl, rubbing her elbow, which had come into sharp contact with the door. "It's such a busy time;" and delivering the parcel to the old lady, she walkel away, with dark views of life in her young bosom, and an up lifted nose that bespoke scorn of all apprentices. Meanwhile the old lady hurried in to the sitting room at the back of the house, and placing the parcel "upon a table cried, with a gasp of relief: "There it is, Ttebecca; and you needn't have worried about it all day, at alL" At these words a lady, who was still only middle aged, and who was sitting wrapped in a voluminous double gown in a great armchair near the little Franklin stove, started to her feet, gave a cry of delight, seized the par cel, opened it at one end, and . emptied from it a ruby colored silk dress, all flounces, furbelows and cachemire beading, which she instantly proceeded to try on. The old lady superintended the per formance, pronounced the fit perfect, picked out a lingering basting thread and spread the train abroad, while Mrs. Ruffit, who was fat and blonde, and very gushing, constantly repeated: "You know it's the first time I've appeared in colors for years, and the Dumsdays are so stylish. You know I would wish to appear particularly well. And does it taper in nicely at the waist, Aunt Betsey? And does the train turn when 1 walk?" At last even this nervous lady was satisfied, and havinsr looked at her back in two glasses, declared that she must take a nap before she began to dress, and vanished for that purpose. And Aunt Betsey, having poured a cup of tea from a little brown teapot that simmered constantly on the stove, dropped into the vacated chair with a sigh of relief, for Rebecca, though a good-hearted woman, who had given her aunt an excellent home for years, became at times a trifle wearisome with her affectations, her immense anxiety conc?rning her middle-aged charms, and her floods of tears about nothing. Had the dress really not come home, and had Mrs. Ruffit really been obliged to send a regret to the Dums days that evening, Aunt Betsy would have had a weary time of it. Now she saw free to rest, to read, or knit, or doze as she liked, and though she took up the needles, the warmth of the fire, the comfort of the great chair, and the calm that had fallen after a storm, all induced slumber. In fact, Aunt Betsy had been fast asleep for more than half an hour, when she started wide awake, to see a spectral form at. the window, and to hear spiritual rappings on the panes. In an instant more the ghost had re solved itself into a poor woman, whose pale face was made ghastly by a black hood, and who, seeing the teapot and Aunt Betsy's amiatle face in conjunc tion, had bethought her to ask for a Qivp of tea. Aunt Betsy was kindness itself. She opened the door to the woman and made ner sit near tne stove and com forted her not only with tea and bread and butter, but with raspberry jam, and finally went to the door again to "speed the parting guest" with amia ble words and .a silver coin. "Ah, poor thing!" she said to herself as she went into the cozy sitting room again, "How hard it is for her." "Hard for whom ?" asked Mrs. Ruf fit, who had returned to the sitting room well wrapped up in the big dressing gown, which somehow seemed more voluminous than ever. "What's hard io whou, lAuntrBets?'' i "Oh, Rebecca," said the good old la dy, "a person has been here begging a cup of tea. Her husband's dead, her son's in Texas, and she's walking twen ty mi.es to try and find a daughter who married a man named Smith, fif teen years ago. "Oh, yes," said Mrs. Ruffit, who was only sentimentally sympathetic with herself. "I see the old s'ory! And you gave her all the small change you had in your pocket, and she went away to spend it at the next gin-shop. You are such a soft-hearted goose, auntie. I only hope she didn't steal anything Good gracious, Aunt Betsy! where is my new dress ?' "You took it upstairs with you, Btcky," said Aunt Betsey. Mrs. Ruffit ran upstairs with more celerity than could have been expected of fair, at, and five-and-forty, and was heard to open sundry closet doors, to rush about wildly, and to shriek. Then she reappeared in the sitting room. "It's not up there!" she shrieked, wringing her hands. "Oh, Aunt Bet sy, tell me you've put it somewhere! Don't say it's gone. "I don't see how" it can be gone," cried Aunt Betsy, flying wildly up and down, shaking the curtains, looking behind the sofa; even opening the six inch drawer of a little work-table. "Oh, Rebecca, I'm sure you took it with you! I'll find it. Didn't you put it in the parlor?" Away the ladies flew, with queer lit tle squeals and moans. Every spot in the house was ran sacked, even the coal-cellar; but 'the dress was not found. At last Mrs. Ruffit fell into the arm chair; fortunately as strong as it was capacious, and sobbed: "This is what has come of your ab surd foolishness for drunken beggars, Aunt Betsy. That woman has stolen my dress." "She couldn't she hadn't a thing in her hand," said poor Aunt Betsy. Then conscience told her she had left the woman alone for five minutes while she took out the jam. It was all discussed over and over again, and the fact that in Miss Betsy's absence the woman had put thd new dress through the window and picked it up when she went out, was fully es tablished. The police were notified, a descrip tion of the woman and dress put into their hands, and a note of regret writ ten to the Dumsdays. ASHEBORO, N. C, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER Mrs Ruffit was persuaded to tak-t some tea and toast, and sat bewailirW her loss and rocking to and fro. j The religious opposition to ere na "A dress that cost me ninety 'dollars j is reinforced by opposition from before it was made and twentv-fivafor he making," sighed Mrs. Ruffit "I can't afford another like it this win ter, and Colonel Cowes was to De at the Dumsdays. and he admires me very much. Aunt Betsy, and it's most annovinz. I'd calculated on it two weeks, and vou must bez and pray a i tipsy tramp to come and take tea with you on purpose to have my dress stol en." "I didn't beg and pray her. 31 asked me for a little tea, and'Sue wasn't tipsy," sobbed Aunt Betsy. "Oh, Rebecca 'Ruffit, how cruel you are!" "I suppose you expect me to dance for joy," said Mrs. Ruffit "I must say that'3 too much to expect; but I might be not only robbed, but murdered, if you could only give all the money you liked to drunken tramps. That's your monomania, Aunt Betsy, and I must say it if you kill me." Then began a woful quarrel, in which all the reproaches that could be uttered on either side found vent The ladies wept and sighed and be moaned themselves. They spoke of parting. They shook their heads and rocked to and fro, and the fire went out and the oil burnt low in th6 lamp. The clock struck ten and still the ladies found new recrimina tions to utter. At last 12 o'olock came. The car riages which bore the departing guests home from the Dumsdays great party were heard to roll past, and Mrs. Ruf fit burst into a fresh flood of tears. "I feel so dreadfully sick. Aunt Bet sy," she said; "so heavy in every limb: such a weight somehow. You know excitement is bad for me. Dr. Sweet man says I'm predisposed to heart dis ease, and I know this is an attack of it I've all the symptoms. My arms are swollen look how tight the sleeves of this dressing-gown are and my good ness, Aunt Betsy! look .at tle : wont meet's Can'l yoa see pumng up ail over? rm going to wait' i "Ah, my poor child," crietir Aunt I Betsy, "you really are! Oh, do let me j take your things off, and put you to j ted, and send for the doctor. Come ( upstairs at once." i Mrs. Ruffit assented. ; Aunt Betsy helped her upstairs, j opened the bed, laid out the white j night-gown, and began to help her neice off with the double gown. She j slipped the big loops of cord from the big buttons, and began tugging at th j sleeve. The flowered cashmere slowly reced j ed from the left shoulder. Aunt Betsy paused and gave a scream. "Rebecca Ruffit!" she cried. "Oh, what is it, Aunt Betsy?" asked Mrs. Ruffit "Am I turning black?" "Look!" cried Aunt Betsy. "Why Rebecca Ruffit, you've put your double-gown on over your new dress. No wonder you felt queer. "Why, how did I come to do such a thing?" gasped Mrs. Ruffit in amaze ment. "I must have taken, my nap in it, too!" She peeled off the double gown in double-quick time. Shie had nothing to say, except: "No wonder I felt stuffyl" There- was nobody to blame and nothing to do but to make up with Aunt Betsy who accorded a gracious forgiveness and retired meekly: butup in her own room she indulge 1 herself in a little burst of triumph: "'Tisn't me that's made a fool of my self," she said, ungrammatically, as she tied her night-cap and blew out the candle; ''and that's some comfort anyhow." . A Place of Perfect Peace. She was a remarkably sensible young lady who made a request of her friends that after her decease she should not be buried by the side of a brook, where babbling lovers would wake her from her dreams, nor in any grand cemetery, where sight-seers, conning over epitaphs, might distract her, but be laid away to take her last sleep under the counter of some mer chant who did not advertise in the papers. There, she said, was to be found peace passing all understanding, a depth of quiet slumber on which the sound of neither the buoyant foot of youth nor the weary shuffle of old age would ever intrude. Texas boasts of a potato shaped ex actly like a human foot, even to the five toes. TOPICS OF THE DAY. the life insurance companies. They "mm that it will interfere with the successful contest of policies by de stroying the evidence of the cause of ieath. Our system of education requires an r.aual expenditure of nearly $98,000, only a few millions less than all the nations of Europe devote to the same object Yet it is a fact that I iw'pafc "Rriraih pi-nvii1i t. wo-thirds Jre than that immense sum upon her army and navy. The English Lord Vernon is trying . novel experiment He has a large lairy at Sudbury, where more than !,500 gallons of milk ' are handled laily, and he has instituted on the !arm a dairy school, where everything s taught pertaining to the dairy busi less, such as the proper care and landling of cows, milk, butter and iheese making. The Atlanta (Ga.) Constitution says ihat the most wonderful cures of lyspepsia are being made around A.thens by taking a spoonful of fine land after each meal, and that persons who have been suffering for years are jntirely relived; but most people, remarks a New York paper, would prefer the dyspepsia. French farmers put all their savings in the Cause d' Epargne or Govern ment Savings bank. The Government takes these savings cf the poor, up to 1200, and pays them 3 3-4 per cent interest. It is said the peasant far mers of France have nearly $300,000, 300 deposited in these savings banks. Thus the French treasury is always full, and nearly every citizen has a personal interest in sustaining the Government. ''Hundreds of Italians are returning b sic na-tt'"-l7.Bd by reason of fv? "ck of work in this country. Rail road building, their principle employ ment, has been almost, wholly aban doned for the present. Naturally an indolent class, they seldom find indi vidual employment, and are sent out in gangs under charge of a head man or leader. Very few of the lower class of Italians can stand the rigor of our Winter climate, and dread the cold more than the African does. Most persons have an idea that any one who sends a letter can telegraph to the postmaster at the office of de livery and have it returned to him Such, however, is not the fact. The postmaster at the office of mailing is the only person who can recall a letter. This authority was recently given, the privilege heretofore being exercised by the postmaster-general. Therefore, if the sender of a letter desires to intercept the missive or have it re turned to him, he must apply to the postmaster at the office where he mailed the letter. The Rev. Samuel W. Dike points out the changes that have come over the New England town, both in its educational and religious life. The religious denominations have destroy ed the old unity, the schools have destroyed the old central purpose of town life, and the draft of the city upon the rural districts exhausts the by which the old tone i3 main tained. Mr. Dike insists that two things must be done. One is restore religious unity, which is now almost the last thing that seems possible; the other is to restore the family to its old place. Some one who has been studying the subject intimates that not less than forty tons of silver and three tons of gold are used in these United States every year in photographic processes. Making this estimate the basis of an additional calculation, by taking the amount of gold and silver required to produce a single cabinet picture, ascertaining the number of pictures that can be made with the amount of these metals as above giv en, and considering the average price charged for these pictures, it is-found that more than $27,000,000 is expended in this country annually for photo graphic pictures. Shipping buffalo horns from the great plains of the West to Eastern 15, 1884. phosphate factories has developed into an important interest of late, since the reduction of trunk line freight rates. A single manufacturer in Philadel- phia has received the past summer , more than 200 car loads of these j bones. The skeletons are worth $25 per ton delivered at the factories, and as the freight is only from $8 to $10 per ton there is rtom for considerable profit for the gatherer. Besides ex tracting phosphates from the bones, the horns are used for tips for umbrel las, and certain bones are made into artistic and handsome buttons. Those who have suffered from tht persecutions of piano pounders can now take courage, for deliverance is at hand. A Philadelphia genius has discovered a method by which the volume of sound of a piano may be reduced to a mere whisper, while the performer may be exercising the most vehement strength of his muscles. It consists in a simple wedge-like at tachment between the damper and the frame of the piano, thus greatly les sening the vibrating powers of the strings and softening the tone until the sound about equals that of a gui tar, while the performer obtains th the full benefit of the most violent practice. In the matter of treaties the Afri cans are ahead of us. " Our extradition treaties contain a great many word but cover a very few crimes. Here i; a treaty between the King of Ethiopa. ! and the Khedive of Egypt, which j contains few words and embraces every criminal case: "His Majesty, the Negoosa. Negust, and his highness, the Khedive, engage to deliver up, one to the other, any criminal or criminal! who may have fled to escape punish ment from the dominions of -one to he dominions of the other." This is brevity and simplicity combined with thoroughness. Mr. Muybridge. formerly of San Frf'so, whofe photographs of ani mals in motion attracted so attention in this country and in Europe, is continuing his experiments of photographing motion at the Uni versity of Pennsylvania, under the supervision of a committee of the Faculty. He has contrived some very i ingenious apparatus, and his pictures have been very successful. Among j the subjects that are to be photo i graphed are the movements of persons : suffering from palsy and diseases of he joints, showing exactly how the gait is affected, and analyzing ac curately the abnormal action of horses dogs and other animals at -different rates of speed; the aerial locomotion of birds on the wing, and the methods of propulsion of marine mammals, aquat ic birds and fish. So many vague statements have been made concerning Prof. Koch't views relating to cholera that the Berlin correspondent of the British Medical Journal thinks it wise to give his ideas as printed in the official report. The spread of cholera, it re cites, is caused by personal contact and not . by goods and other objects except damp, infected linen. The in fection is not in the air, but in the ejections of the patient; it is only dangerous in a moist state, and dies very speedily when dry; air cannot transfer the disease. The baeilla d not, as in small-pox, produce spores, which may dry up only to reappear alive. Drying will positively kill them in three hours. The disease i3 prtnfinpd whnllv to the digestive organs. Contact with the patient is without danger if no contamination from the digestive organs is received. The ff lowing convey infection: infeett drinking and washing water, infectet moist and liquid foods, and especially jmilk. The Berlin Hospital inspectpc stated that there was no need to I especially afraid of cholera; it wr much less dangerous than indigenouf plagues. What's In a Name. It was at the baptismal font and tht minister had the baby in his arms. "What is the name?" he asked of the mother. "Josephine Xewton." "Joseph E. Newton I baptise tbee in the name " "No, no," hurriedly whispered th mother in great alarm.' "Not Joseph E. Newton. Josephine Xewton. It's not that kind of a baby." IAfe. NO. 26. 11IE FAMIlV PHYSICIAN. BrighVs Disease. A double handful of the dry pods of common white beans or com beans boiled slowly for furpp ,niirs ;n thrp nnart nf wnf- uritil it is reduced to three pints Take hot or t old. Use no other drink. This simple remedy is claimed to have effected cures in Bright's disease as well as in dropsy. Who&)in'j Cough. Chesnut leaves """ wwlus WttW 1 pint; steep. mm wnen jiu give to a cnua irom two to four years old one to two tea tjxkVriii. evejy U,hrtJji5,t.Thi3 in fusion can be sweetened and made very pleasant When the leaves can not be had, a tincture or fluid extract may b;i obtained at any drug store. In Cisjs of Poisoni'V. What to do till the doctor comes Make your pa tient vomit by giving a tumbler of warm water with a teaspoonful of mustard in it, and send for the doctor. If the poison is acid give magnesia and water, or chalk and water, or soap and water, and plenty of warm water be sides. If it is an alkili like potash, give vinegar and water, lemon juiro or some other safe acid. Always re member the emetic first. If it b laudanum, strong co'ee is a good, thing to give until the doctor come Keep the patient awake. Camphor. Camphor is a peculiar gum or concrete substance ' obtained from an evergreen tree, called the Lauras Camphora, a native of China. .Japan, and the E; st Indies. Tho cam- phor of this country is mainly brought. from the city of Canton, in China, and generally has to be purified before it. is fit for use. The camphor-tree is highly aromatic, all parts of it yield ing camphor, the grains of the gum being iound lodged in all the craols and vacant places in the tree. It is a sedative in moderate doses. In over doses it is a narcotic It is also a stimulant to the nervous; in wakefulne? and delirium it is a valuable remedy. . j It is exceedingly volatile, and by ex much 1 iL - - , posure io tne air iv soon loses us viitues. To make camphor tincture add one ounce of gum to a pint of rum or alcohol. The smell of it will relieve faintness; and when taken int the stomach, in the dose of eisrht of j . .. . . life. A dose of ten grains repeat d every three hours will cure headache, It should always be kept in the house Health & Home. Tattooed Samoans. The natives in the boats exhibited the general characteristics of the Polynesian-Malays. Their faces were clear of tattoo, but from the loim downward over the hips and thighs tc the knees, they were very closeiv tattooed. Unlike Maori tattoo, which follows .curved lines, the Samoans puncture the color into the skin in closely dotted mass, with diagonal lines of bare skin embellishing the de sign, which at a distance looks almost like a pair of dark pants. The instru ments used are usually the spines of the shaddock tres or bone driven in with small mallets. The coloring mat ter is burned candle nut. The women do not tattoo. The process is begun with the men at the age of twenty, and is slow and painful As among their civilized professional brethren there is a code of honor recognized in the profession devoted to this art, and this code is chiefly applied so true it human nature in all its aspects tc ! the maintenance of an adequate scale ! of fees. A tat.oo will sometimes ! 8toP in the middle ot job, leaving the subiect half done, until his pecuniary demands are satisfied, and no professional brother can be tempt ed to cut in and finish tha business. A Samoan is no more able to walk about for the rest of his life hall tattooed than an Australasian mashet with one whisker, and he is therefor obliged to pay up to the uttermost farthing. Although not so invariably a3 in Fiji, the Samoan men and women do dye their hair yellow with burned coral, and paint their faces red and black. They also shave the heads of their children, using shark's teeth a razors. Rubbing or pressing noses as with the Maoris, is the form 01 national salute. They never eat before ten or twelve o'clock in tht morning, ut afterwards have nr regular meal time eating almost continuously through the day. -Melbourne (Australia) Lender.

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