North Carolina Newspapers is powered by Chronam.
1 djjhant Hucoqi
H. A. LONDON, Jr.,
KDlTOIt AM) PUOPUIKTOK.
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION:
One square, one insertion, ...
One square, two insertions,- - . ,
One square, one month, ....
;-y. ono y':r, -out
!) , six iiiiuiilis -Olio
copy, thrco ntuuths,
PITTSBOUO', CHATHAM CO., X. C, NOVEMBER 14, 1878.
For larger aUvertisementa liberal contract will be
Cheapest Goods & Best Variety
CAN BE FOUND AT
Hew Goods ReceiTel ererv Week.
Tou can always find what you wish at Lon
don's. ITe keeps everything.
Dry-Goods, Clothing, Carpeting, Hardware,
Tin Ware, Drugs, Crockery, Confectionery
Shots, Boot, Caps, Hats, Carriage
Materials. Sewing Machines,Oils,
Putty, Glass, Paints, Nails,
Iron, Plows and Plow
Sole, Upptr and Harness Leathers,
Shawls, Blankets, Um
brellas, Corsets, Belts, La
dies' Neck-Ties and Ruffs, Ham
burg Edgings, Laces, Furniture, Ac.
Best Shirts In tbe Country for $1.
Beet 5-cent Cigar, Chewing and
Smoking Tobacco, Snuff,
Salt and Molasses.
My Ftock is always complete in every line,
and foods always po'.d at the lowest prices.
Special inducements to Cash Buyers.
My motto, "A nimble Sixpence is better
than a slow Shilling."
tif" All kinds of produce taken.
W. L. LONDON,
Pittsboro'. N. Carolina.
H. A. LONDON, Jr.,
Attorney at Law,
PITTSllOKO', x. c.
jfcaySpecial Attention Paid to
DR. A. J. YEAGER,
PERMANENTLY LOCATED AT
PITTSBORO', N. C.
All Work Warranted. Satisfaction Guaranteed.
R. H. COWAN,
Staple it Fancy Dry Goods, Cloth
ing, Hats, Boots, Shoes, No
CROCKERY and. GROCERIES.
PITTSBORO', IT. C.
RALEIGH, IV. CAR.
P. n. CAMERON, PreOOent.
W. E. ANDERSON, Vict Pres.
W. H. HICK8, Sec'y.
The only Home Life Insurance Co. in
All Its fund loaned out AT HOWE, and
among our own people. We do not send
North Carolina money abroad to build up other
States. It one of the most successful com
panies of its age In the United States. Its as
net are amply sufficient. All losses paid
promptly. Eight thousand dollars paid in the
last two years to families in Chatham. It will
cost a man aged thirty years only five cents a
day to Insure for one thousand dollars.
Apply for further information to
H A. LONDON, Jr., Gen. Agt.
PITTSBOKO', N. C.
Dr. A. D. MOORE,
PITTSBORO', N. C,
Offer, hit profAMlonal services to tbe cltliem of
Chatham. With an xperleoc of thirty ear. he
Lope, to five entire satisfaction.
Attorney at Law,
PITTSBOEO', N. 0.,
Practice. In the Courts of Chatham, Harnett.
Moore and Orange, and la the 8apremand Federal
O. 8. POE,
Dry Goods, Groceries & General Merriundlie,
All kinds of Plows and Castings, Baggy
Katerials, Furniture, ato.
PITTMBORO, N. CAR.
It wasn't so when I was young.
We used jilniii kuigiuiKe then:
We tluln't sHak of "them galoots,"
When meaning Itoysanri men.
When sukiiir of the nice hand-write
Of ,loe, or Tom. or Hill,
We iliil it plain we uUln't say
"He slinks a nast quill."
Then when we met a good, old friend
We hadn't lately seen,
We greeted klm-hut didn't say,
"Hello, you old sardine."
The 1kj s got mad sometimes and lit ;
We stoke of kicks and hlows :
But now they "whack liini in the snoot,"
And " paste him on the nose."
Once, when a youth was turned away
From her lie held most dear.
He walked otf on his leet-liut now
He "crawls otf on his ear."
We used to dance w hen I was young,
And used to call it so ;
Hut now iliey don't -they only "sliii(f
The light fantastic toe."
H death we sjtoke in language plain,
I'liat no 0110 did perplex,
Hut in these days one doesn't die
He "passes in his checks."
We praised a man of common sense ;
"His judgment's khhI." we said ;
But now they say : " Well, that old plum
Has got a level head."
It's rather sad the children now
Are learning all such talk ;
They've learned to "chin " instead of chat,
And "waltz" instead of walk.
To little Harry yesterday
My grandchild, aged two
I siid. " You love grandpa?" said lie :
" You bet your boots I do. "
The children bowed to strangers once,
It is no lunger so
The little girls, as well as Ix.ys,
Now greet you with "hello:"
h. give me back the good old d tys
When Itoth (he old aud young
Conversed in plain, old-fashioned ways.
And slang was never slung.
She had come to visit Nat's sister.
And there I met her ou i night ;
A cousin, I think, of the family.
Ami a girl rather handsome and bright.
1 remember we looked at an album :
And I told her how much 1 could guess
Of one charai ter just trout a picture :
" Now witness," said I, " my success."
" Here's a photograph of a young maiden.
Both pretty ami itiodee! ami true."
Mie fairly colored with pleasure ;
"Why that's," she exclaimed, "sister
"But here. I continued elated,
" la the worst looking fellow thus far,
A stupid, old. senseless curmudgeon :"
She simply said, "That's in papa."
ERIC SWARTZ'S SACRIFICE.
Eric Swartz and I were lovers. His
fathers farm adjoined ours at some fut ire
time the two estates were to be united.
Eric's father and mine often talked it all
over, and laid plans, and built castles and
made all to their likimr. Hut Kric' i-nl..r
and mine are lying in their graves, their
catties nave dissolved in air, their plans
are void and useless!
Il was a glorious evening in October. I
had linished niv twelve CUts of vnrn v-irii
and had set back the great wheel and reel,
as I saw my lather driving home with the
piovv. ne jisui just nnished the day's
work, but it was not the sight of my father
that caused me to linger at the window; I
heard Eric's voice," rich and deep and
Hear, and I listened to his words. Thev
werc of trilling iiiijiort, and yet they caused
niv heart to lean wildlr sis'l tlo.mrht r ..
dashing ride over the prairie with Eric in
pursuit oia nyingnerdoi cattle, and with
a merrv lautrh. I bounded ilnu
"No, no, Clara, not to-night," said my
lover irentlv. as he exchsuMnil l.mkv with
'Itiscettiti2 late, and I
near the woixls, I will bring your cows
with mine, Clara; you had better not go."
My father expressed himself in like man
ner; but when did ever Clara Wilde heed
persuasion or command? Mabelle, darling,
I was a wild, headstrong trirh do von won.
der, then, that saddled my fleet pony,
"Star," and overtook my lover, much to
his surprise and annoyance?
"I see how it is," I said, tauntingly,
"you do not wish my company; forsooth,
you are waiting for some fair maid, Bessie
Mervine, perhaps you see I have thwarted
your designs, Eric;" and I laughed heed
lessly. He looked straight into my face. O, how
noble and handsome he was; and when he
said, "No, no, Clara," I knew he spoke
"Then why were you so determined I
should not accompany you?" I asked in
credulously. "Very good reasons, my little Clara;
that dark, black wood is no place for
"I am no coward, Eric Swartz: lead
where vou will, I will follow."
"You are a very brave, courageous girl,
Clara." His voice was as gentle as if he
addressed an infant. "But" and he
stopped his horse and held the bridle of my
pony "I had rather not go than have you
expose yourself as you are about doing.
Clara, go back; you know I like your com
pany, but not enough to have you risk
"What risk?" I asked, giving the bridle
a jerk that freed it from his grasp,- and
curling my lip scornfully as I spoke; -Hell
me, or "
I touched Star lightly with the riding
whip and started forward, but again he
graspad the rein.
"Clara, Clara, for heaven's sake, stay!
Thoughtless girl, you know not what you
"Perhaps I don't; thank you for the in
sinuation; let go my bridle!"
"Well; speak if you have anything to
say speak! what are you making all this
fuss on my account for?"
"For your good; listen as I told your
father, our cattle have been missing for
several days, and we fear "
"Humph!" I ejaculated, impatiently;
"some old granny's dream, piore like; but
I see you are afraid. Valiant youth, follow
and I will lead; follow, and I will protect
I struck Star violently, and with a bound
he freed himself from Eric's grasp and gal
"Clara, Clara, if you will go if you
will not listen to reason I shall not follow,
but accompany or lead," he said as he
reached my side.
I struck off across the prairie with a
merry laugh, and a challenge for a race,
and almost before I was aware of the fact,
darkness was falling fast around us, and
close before us, only separated by a dark
and deep ravine, lay the wild, black
' Now you will surely stop," cried Eric,
as we checked our foaming steeds upon the
very verge of the precipice. We had seen
nothing of the missing herd.
"I tell you what it is," said I, impa
tiently, "you area perfect coward; you are
afraid to crosss this chasm; you are afraid
of the woods. Come, Star," I said, coax
ingly, to my pony, "you and I for it we
shall find nothing worse than ourselves
yonder over, sir, over!"
Well used to my whims, the noble steed
obeyed. Indeed, if I had told him to fly
to the moon, had he understood me, I
doubt not that he would have made the
I shut my eyes. That long, terrible,
flying leap, how I remember it, and my
heart sickens even now, as I think of it;
but half a hand's breath, and we should
have gone down, down into the dark, deep,
tearful gorge; but we were safe, and a tri
umphantlaugh floated back to my dis
mayed companion, who, completely as
tounded, regarded me with an expression
akin to terror and despair.
"Clara, Clam, come back; ride along to
where the chasm is narrower, and then
"Indeed T shn.ll do no sneli Ihinir" 1 r-
torted, disdainfully, "if you are afraid, -go
"And allow me to escort you?"
I 1( Hiked up in surprise to encounter a
brilliant pair of black eyes, and a tall, ele
gant form in a hunter's costume. In the
person before me I recognized a young
man who had for a night partaken of my
father's hospitality, and departed one
morning with a farewell tome sounding
musically upon his lips. Who or what he
was I did not know, hutjfear was a stranger
to me then; and thinking only to vex my
lover, 1 replied merrily that 1 should, un
der the circumstances, be provided for,
aud bade Mr. Eric Swartz good evening.
"Clara, CJara, I cannot leave you thus.
Clara, do you know what you are doing?"
"I trust I do, sir," I replied haughtily.
"God forgive and help you!" It was
too dark for me to see his expression, but
he turned and galloped madly away.
1 did not think he would go. 1 fancied
he would stay and amuse me with his
pleadings, but 1 was mistaken. And then
for the first time, as 1 realized the position
in which 1 had placed myself, a chill feel
ing of nervous fear stole over me, and 1
turned my horse's head down the ravine,
lor now the excitement was over 1 had not
the least desire to attempt another leap
where the chasm was so broad; but my
dark companion laid a hand ujm)u the bri
dle rein, and a strange quiver in his voice
filled me with alarm.
"Not so fast, lady ; permit " and seizing
Star's bridle, he turned the animal toward
"Hands oil sir! what do you mean?" I
ejaculated, now quite alarmed, for night
was fast closing in, and the man's lace
grew fairly sinister in its expression, as
seen by the uncertain light.
He laughed low and exult ingly.
"What do 1 mean, fairest maid of the
prairie? This only, that you are venture
some, fearless, courageous, daring; but
that Clinton 1 light is not a whit behind
you. Fair lady, I love youf I loved you
when I first met you at your lather's door
when I bade you adieu; but now that fate
has kindty thrown us together, I take it as
an omen for good that you will not regret
lie turned his face toward the light of
the purpling sunset the brilliant, fas
cinating eyes were fixed on mine, thrilling
me with a strange, bewildering power.
I struggled against it, fearfully, agoni
zingly yet the black eyes of the stranger
held me as with a hand of iron. I felt that
he was possessing himself of my will; that
he would soon use it as it suited bis de
signs, and yet as the bird charmed falls
into the jaws of the serjx'nt, I was as
helpless in the tower of my stranger ad
versary. Bxit hark! one sound brought back my
powers of speech and motion. That
hideous sound, mcthinks I hear it now,
borne at first faintly, then nearer, and still
nearer, upon the night wind. Sometimes
ina nightmare I live this scene and that
which follows over again in its horror. I
feel the blackness of the night around ami
above me; behold again the deep, dark
forest; the dreadful, yawning chasm at my
very feet; feel the touch of that magnetic
hand upon my fingers and see those
dreadful eyes looking fiercely, strangely
"Do you hear that?" he cried with
strange eagerness. "Wolves! girl, be mine,
or you are their prey."
I lashed my trembling horse to a fury,
but a strong hand held him down. I
screamed aloud in my terror, but echo only
replied, and nearer and nearer came the
maddening yells, up along the ravine
"Monster, fiend!" I cried, in my agony
and terror, but a sardonic laugh answered
me. One glance into the wild, fierce,
blazing eyes, and I knew the man beside
me was a maniac! God only knows my
terror at this moment, for around abend
in the stream came the terrible wolf
"Mine! mine! will you be mine?"
shrieked the man's voice in my ear.
"Yes, mine in life and in death, mine
forever and ever."
What I said I do not now remember,
but it must have been a decided and bitter
refusal, for the next moment I was torn
from my saddle and thrown violently
upon the ground. And next I heard the
sound of my horse's hoofs dying away in
the distance, while behind me, so close
that I fancied I could see their glaring
eyeballs and feel their hot breath, came
the panting pack of half starved animals.
I staggered wildly to my feet. One lit
tle attempt would I make for my life. How
many thoughts will pass through the hu
man brain in a moment! I fancied my
parents' grief and horror when they
should know my fate; my lover's sorrow
and despair and to die thus! With one
cry to Heaven for aid, I tottered onward
staggering over fallen trees, lacerating my
flesh with brambles, yet unheeding the
pain, knowing not whither I went, only
fleeing from the destruction behind to the
unknown dangers before.
Onward, still onward, gasping for
breath, with that strange feeling of in
ability to walk or run one ofti n experi
ences in a disturbed dream, groping,
and grasping, and shrieking, though my
voice seemed to rise no higher than my
throat and to die despairingly upon my
Just then I heard a shout. Only a few
feet behind me were the foremost of the
wolves; but that shout seemed to startle
even them for an instant. It was Eric's
voice: I knew it in an instant and an
swered with a shriek of joy. The next
moment I was clasped in his arms, and his
voice cried out:
"Cling to me, Clara; I have been all
this time reaching you going round up
in a tree, quick!"
"And you?" I questioned, hurriedly,
as he tried to assist me in my trembling
and awkward attempts to ascend a small
t ree, scarcely large enough to bear my
I never heard his voice again, save in a
shriek of mortal agony, as he was borne
down by his terrible foes. My worthless
life was saved at the expense of his. I
would fain sometimes have shared his
fate that long, desolate, terrible night;
but life is sweet, and I was so young, so
full of life, to die such a death.
Toward morning the wolves departed,
and I descended to the ground. A few
hairs dabbled in blood, a few l)ones and
bits of clothing were all that remained of
the man I had really and truly loved.
And yet I am married! Ah, yes, that
is my boy; I call him Eric for the one
who died! and his father is a kind and
tender husband, though he never won my
heart; you can see him there tunning up
the garden walk.
You know now how erring and how
sinful I have been how I have suffered;
for God only knows what my heart has
endured since that fatal night.
A MISSOURI RIVAL OF DR. CARVER.
SIX SUCCESSSIVE BULIS EYES AT A
Adam (J oldie is a man in the prime
of lite, about five feet eleven inches in
height, and with a most wonderful
physique. He has a frank, oteii coun
tenance, with large, bright blue eyes,
which have a peculiar' appearance.
They are restless and ever in motion,
and there is a peculiar sort of twitching
action iereeptible, which almost con
veys the impression that his vision
must be defective. His light brown
hair hangs in long, flowing hicks, ami
a long, flowing beard covers his chest.
His face is a taking one open, affable
and free and when he talks bis voice
hasa ringing, cheery tone about it that
is pleasant to the ear.
Some of the feats which he has per
formed seem impossible. He has
broken 21fc glass balls out of 300 in 1-J
minutes, with a forty-four calibre
Winchester rifle. He can break 100
glass balls live t imes out of six, without
a miss, in three minutes. These feats
are unparalleled, and surpass I)r
Carver's wonderful shooting. A seem
ingly incredible feat that he irforms
is as follows: A soda water bottle is
thrown into the air in a certain man
ner, and before it falls Goldiewill send
a bullet down the neck of the bottle
and make a bole in the bottom. There
are other feats that he irforms with
the bottles. At fifty yards distance a
bottle is placed on a forked tong, and
Goldie will send bullets in rapid succes
sion down the neck and through the
bottom, only perforating the latter in
one place. At long distances this
wonderful marksman perforins just as
marvelous feats. At 1,IMM yards he
will hit the centre of the bull's-eye and
then send six bullets, one after the
other, hitting the very indent made by
the first. A potato thrown in the air
Goldie will terforate with six bullet
holes before it touches the ground.
Perhaps his most astonishing feat is
his breaking two balls at once. This
is done in the following manner: The
balls are thrown crosswise, and as they
pass each other on their course, with
quick, unerring aim and lightning-like
rapidity, ('oldie will speed a bullet
through lxth. Another feat is the
placing of an inch strip of tin about
three feet long in position, at thirty
feet distance, and terforating it from
top to liottom with thirty-six holes, all
exactly in the center of the strip, and
all at even distances apart, ('oldie
says he does not know where his won
derful skill comes from. He never
handled a rifle until he was eighteen
years old, and to him it seems like an
instinct. He would take aim and lire
with unerring accuracy, and his won
derful feats soon acquired for him a
marvelous reputation among his neigh
liors. Some live years ago Goldie left
his native country of Sliamon, where
he is engaged in cattle raising, for
northwestern Texas, where he 'passed
two years of his life, and there one of
the most exciting incidents of his career
happened. His fame as a marksman
among the Texan s soon liecame notor
ious. In the vicinity of Goldie's ranch
lived one William Darrell, or, as he
was more familiarly termed, Bloody
Bill. This Bloody Bill was a notorious
ruilian and desperado, a reckless dare
devil. His feats in marksmanship
were likewise astounding, and probably
no man in the Lone Star State excelled
him in handling the rifle. Bloody Bill
had been engaged in many deeds of
daring, ami was nearly always mixed
up in some row or squabble. He had
already killed three men, ami his
numerous acts of rufliaiiism had made
him a terror to the frontier. Few cared
to cross his path, as his dangerous
character and dexterity with the rifle
were well known, ('oldie had met Bill
on several occasions, but hail never been
involved in any dilliculty with him.
Knowing his turbulent disposition, he
always sought to avoid him. On one
Sunday, however, Goldie was sitting in
company with a score of Texans, who
were spending a convivial hour in a
mild carouse, when Bill rode up and
joined the party. Of late he had be
come quite jealous of Goldie's notoriety
as a marksman, and had frequently
spoken disparagingly of the latter. At
last the Texans began to relate some of
their reminiscences, and Goldie com
menced relating an incident that had
occurred to him. Bill, who had drank
heavily of the whisky, and became
rather moody, in the midst of the nar
ration suddenly jumped to his feet and
insulted Goldie, at the same time
striking a blow at him. All was in
stantly commotion. The whole party
were on their feet and revolvers were
drawn. Goldie demanded satisfaction
for the insult, and Bloody Bill, with a
scornful laugh, suggested that they
had better make it a trial of their re
spective skill with the rifle. The idea
was caught up by the Texans, and after
a short consulation they decided tliat
a duel should be fought, but, in conse
quence of the extraordinary skill of
the parties, at a long distance. On the
open prairie, about two miles distant,
grew two post-oak trees. They were
four hundred and twenty yards apart,
and were the only trees on that spot.
All around was open, timtierless prairie.
It was decided that Goldie and Bill
should both take their rifles and take
up position behind the respective trees
and then blaze away at each other. The
Texans hoped by this means to prevent
bloodshed, or at least to prevent a fatal
termination to the duel. The pre
liminaries being settled, the whole
party mounted their horses and rode
out on the prairie to the selected spot.
Goldie took up his position behind one
ot the trees, and Bill ensconced himself
behind the other. The remaining
party of the crowd then rode to a slight
undulating eminence to the right
where they were to remain as specta
tors. One of them was to give the
signal for the beginning of the
combat by firing the rifle in the air,
and the report was to be the signal to
the duelists to begin with their bloody
work. Goldie awaited anxiously the
detonation of the rifle, which suddenly
sounded in the air. Then commenced
the duel at the longest range ever
recorded. Goldie advanced from be
hind the tree in a kneeling posture,
when, whiz! his sombrero was per
forated by a ball from Bloody Bill's
rifle. Quick as lightning he dropped
lull length on the ground in time to
escape the two other bullets which
came in rapid succession. He lay still,
brought his rifle into position, as he
was stretched full length upon the
ground, and then remained immovable.
Presently he saw a diminutive figure
which he knew to be Bill (who was
nearly one inch taller than Goldie)
advancing cautiously from the shelter
of the tree. Quickly taking aim he
lired twice in succession and then re
tired iH'hind the sheltering trunk. One
of the bullets he afterward discovered
had passed through the lolie of Bill's
left ear. There was a cessation now of
firing for some time, when Goldie
espied hisoppouent's head and shoulders
exposed. Quick as lightning his rifle
was at his shoulder, and the detonating
reKnt was heard. Bloody Bill's hat
was carried away by the bullet. Goldie
now rather incautiously advanced from
his shelter and became the target for
six balls in rapid rotation, one of which
made a hole in his coat-sleeve and
another through his pantaloons. lie
leat a hasty retreat. The duellists
remained gazing at the distant trees,
each watching for the indistinct form
which represented his adversary. Each
peered cautiously from behind the tree,
endeavoring to gain sight of the other.
Goldie at last saw Bill again advance,
and the former stepped rapidly to the
front and quickly brought his rifle into
position. Almost simultaneously the
clear sharp report of two rifles rang on
the air, and both men fell. Goldie
managed to raise himself and crawl
behind the trunk of the tree. He had
leen wounded in the left shoulder.
Presently he was joined by the Texans,
who had been witnesses of this most
exciting duel. They had already rid
den over to Bloody Bill aud found him
dead a bullet had penetrated his tem
ple. St. Louis Post.
HOW MARRIAGES ARE MADE IN RUSSIA.
Russian marriages are generally ar
ranged through priests. A well-bred
bridegroom must present a gift to a
monastery and another to his parish
church. The bride, through her
friends, is expected to clothe some
statue of the virgin with a gown of sil
ver brocade, enriched with more or less
jewels, according to the piety of the
donor; and in Southern Russia she adds
a gift of doves to the Pojie which looks
like a relic of the worship of Venus.
The consent of parents is necessary for
a marriage until the age of thirty-six
years in the case of a man, and twenty
five years in that" of a woman; but
young people are at liberty to appeal to
appeal to the civil authorities if consent
be arbitrarily withheld. In this event
the parents are called upon to show
reason for their refusal. The reason
must not be mercenary, unless one of
the young people be heir to a landed es
tate. Then the question is referred to
the marshal of the nobility in the dis
trict, whose decisions are based upon
expediency rather than upon fixed
principles. These appeals are rare, be
cause the Russians are a marrying peo
ple, and dispose of their children early.
In the middle aud lower classes men
marry at twenty, when not drafted by
the conscription. In the higher aris
tocracy a young man goes the "grand
tour" before settling down; but he is
often betrothed, before starting, to a
young lady not yet out of the school
room. There is no country t hat has so
few old maids as Russia. When a girl
has reached the age of twenty-five years
without finding a mate, she generally
sets out on what she calls a pilgrimage.
if poor; on a round of travels, if rich;
and in either case she turns up some
years later as a widow. Widows are
as plentiful as old spinsters are scarce;
and widows whose husbands were never
seen are more numerous than the rest.
Etiquette forbids auy allusion to a
lady's dead husband in her presence,
and this is sometimes convenient.
When a couple are engaged a betrothal
feast is held, and the bride elect has a
lock of her hair cut off in the presence
of witnesses and given to the bride
groom who, in return, presents a sil
ver ring set with turquoise, an almond,
cake and a gift of bread and salt. F'rom
this moment the two are plighted; nor
can the relatives break the match ex
cept with the consent of the parties
themselves, which is signified by a re
turn of the ring and the lock of hair.
So much importance is attached to the
ring that, among people who cannot af
ford silver and a turquoise, tin and a bit
of bluestone are substituted. These be
trothal rings are kept as heirlooms, but
must not be made to serve twice. A
son cannot give his bride the ring which
his mother received, for instance;
though why this should be so is a mys
tery which the clergy, who sell the
rings, could best explain. On the wedding-day
the bride comes to the church
dressed in white; but it is only among
the highest classes that the bridal
costumes are entirely white, and that
a wreath of orange-flower blossoms is
DURATION OF LIFE.
The average duration of life in civ
ilized society is about thirty-three-and-a-third
years. This is called a
generation making three in a century.
But there are certain localities and
certain communities of people where
this average is considerably extended.
The mountaineer lives longer than the
lowlander; the fanner than the artisan;
the traveler than the sedentary; the
temperate than the self-indulgent; the
just than the dishonest. "The wicked
shall not live out half his days," is the
announcement of Divinity. The phil
osophy of this is found in the fact that
the moral character has a strong
power over the physical a power
much more controlling than is gener
ally imagined. The true man conducts
himself in the light of Bible precepts
is "temperate in all things," is
"slow to anger" and on his grave is
written: "He went about doing good."
In these three things are the great ele
ments of human health: the restraint
of the appetites, the control of the
passions, and that highest type of
physical exercise, "going about doing
good." It is said of the eminent
Quaker philanthropist, Joseph J. Gur
ney, that the labor and pains he took
to go and see personally the objects of
his contemplated charities, so that
none of them should lie unworthily
bestowed, was of itself almost the
labor of one man; and he attended to
his immense banking business besides.
In fact he did too much, and died at
the age of sixty years.
The average length of human life in
all countries, at this age of the world,
is about twenty-eight years. One
quarter of all who die do not reach the
tige of seven years; one-half die before
reaching seventeen years; and yet the
average of life of Friends in Great
Bricnin and Ireland in lHGO was nearly
fifty-six years. Surely this is a strong
inducement for all to practice for them
selves, aud to inculcate upon their
children day by day, that simplicity
of habit, that quietness of demeanor,
that restraint of temper, that control
of appetites and propensities, and that
orderly, systematic mode of life which
Friends' discipline inculcates!
Reasoning from the analogy of ani
mal creation, mankind should live
nearly one hundred years that l?w
seeming to be that life should be five
times the length of the period of
growth. At least, the general obser
vation is that the longer persons are
growing the longer they live other
things being equal. Naturalists say
that a dog grows for two years, and
lives eight; an cx grows for four years,
and lives sixteen; a horse grows for
live years, and lives twenty-five; a
camel grows for eight years, and lives
forty; man grows for twenty years, and
should live one hundred. But the sad
fact is that only one man in every
thousand reaches one hundred years.
Sti'l it is encouraging to know that
the science of life, as revealed by the
investigations of the physiologist and
tho teachings of educated medical
men, is steadily extending the period
of human existence. Thedistinguished
historian, Macaulay, states in in 1085
one person in twenty died each year;
in 18-30, out of forty, only one died.
Dupin says that from 1770 to 1843 the
duration of life in France increased
liitv-two days annually, for in 17.'H the
mortality was one in twenty-nine; in
1S43, one in forty. The rich men in
France live forty-two years, on an
average; the poor only thirty years.
Those who are well-to-do in the world
live about eleven years longer than
those who have to work from day to
day for a living. Remunerative labor
and the diffusion of the knowledge ot
the laws of life among the masses,
with temperance aild thrift, are the
great means of adding to human
health and life.
AN INSTANCE OF INDIAN DARING.
The Beaver (Utah) Square Dealer
says: "An instance of what an Apache
Indian will do in the way of cool daring
when the prize is worth the risk, once
occurred on a ranche in Arizona.
The owner of the ranche was an
American. To guard against the
Apaches he had built a block-house,
and, adjoining it, a court-yard and cor
ral, surrounded by an adobe wall 8 feet
high and 2 feet thick. In the corral
the herd were nightly secured. lie kid
a contract to feed and guard 400 head
of beef cattle belonging to the United
SUites fort, some thirty miles away.
More than one attempt had been made
by th3 Apaches to capture the herd,
while feeding two or three miles from
the block-house. But the vigilant
herdsmen had driven the cattle at a gal
lop into the corral, before the Indians
could "stampede" them. One night
there came a fearful storm. A solitary
Apache, unarmed, and with nothing to
protect him from the cold rain, climbed
over the corral wall; crouching in the
corner, he waited for day. Early in
the morning, the storm having passed
away, eight herdsmen, mounted and
armed, waited at the corral's gate for
the herd to be turned out. The gate
was opened. The stock poured out.
Suddenly up sprang the Apache; vault
ing on the nearest horse, he clutched
his mane with one hand, while with the
other he waved his red blanket and
yel.'ed like a demon. In an instant
every boo." made a rush and the stam
pede began. The horse, frightened,
darted into the nridst of the flying cat
tle. As in a frenzy they went through
the gateway, the Apache clasped his
arms around the horse's neck, and,
throwing his body on one side of the
maddened animal, disappeared from
view. A thousand men ranged in
column could not stop that rush of the
crazed herd down the valley. The
herdsmen fired a volley which woundi d.
aid killed some of the cattle. Two
bands of Apaches, darting out from op
posite sides of the valley, closed up
from behind the herd. Four hundred
head of cattle were thus captured and
run off by the daring and cunnin? of
The cotton compress at Montgom
ery, Ala., has been rebuilt, using up
1,000,000 bricks and 600,000 feet of
lumber. New presses are being looked
The city of Zurich, Switzerland, has
appropriated the sum of 600,000 fes for
the purpose of erecting a magnificent
new chemical laboratory for Prof. Victor
England has produced about 11,
500,000 quarters of weat this year, and
will have to buy about 13,000,000 quar
ters. France, it is expected, will have
none to sell.
A captain of a volunteer corps,
being doubtful whether he had dis
tributed muskets to all the men, cried:
" All you that are without arms, hold
up your hands."
At Bayonne a gentleman lost in a
railroad carriage a considerable sum of
money and some jewelry and other
valuables. Three railroad porters were
arrested on suspicion, when the money
was returned by a priest. The thief
had confessed his crime, and the con
fessor had refused him absolution till
he had made restitution.
The cotton mills of Columbus,
S. C, consumed during the season of
1877-78, 12,7i2 bales of staple, a gain
in five years, of 5,304 bales. They ex
pect to consume 15,000 bales the coming
season, which at 10 cents a pound or
$50 a bale, would make this cotton
worth $750,000. This value, however,
in passing through their mills will be
increased to some $2,200,000.
Queen Victoria travels in a rail
way carriage which cost $30,000. A
corresTKmdent of the Chicago Times
says that its windows are shaded with
green silk curtains,trimmed with costly
white lace. Its ottomans are covered
w ith cream colored silk, embroidered
with the royal arms and monogram in
purple and gold, and a carpet which
cost over $500 covers the floor.
Lady Georgiana Seymour, widow
of the late Admiral Sir George Sey
mour, died recently at Hampton Court
Palace, in her eighty-sixth year, and
had lived at the palace sixty years.
The palace is a leautiful edifice, devoted
exclusively as a free residence for
widows of persons who have distin
guished themselves, in the public ser
vice of England, but who have been
left with small pecuniary means.
Of cotton cloth, the United States
exported last year 120,000,000 yards,
while the amount in 1874 was but 18,
000,000. F:mpIoyers claim that the
earnings of mill operatives are higher
now than in i860, in proportion to the
cost of living, and mills are supplying
goods at less cost than in that year.
Although supplies cost more and cotton
the same greater skill and economy,
with improved machinery, produce
Mrs. Van Cott, the preacher, was
born in New York city, and is nearly
fifty years of age. Her father was
Major Newton, manager of John Jacob
Astor's estate. He became insane.
Marrying and soon becoming a widow,
she attended to her husband's business
of drug broker. She was converted on
a Fulton ferry-boat while thinking
about religion. Becoming a preacher
she traveled through the country, and
counts more than 27,000 conversions as
the result of her labors. She weighs
"A bird in the hand," etc. An
inveterate chewer in Providence, who
invariably throws away an old quid
whenever he sees a neighbor take out a
tobacco box, waited in vain one morn
ing for an extension of hospitalities.
"Aren't you going to give me a chew?"
he inquired. "Didn't you have one in
your mouth V" asked the market-man.
"Yes," said the other. "Well," re
plied the market-man, "you must learn
never to throw away a certainty for an
uncertainty." New York Tribune.
The 'claims of the Muscovites or
Great Russians to be pure Slavs have
been studied by a German writer, who
arrives at the conclusion that they are a
mixed race, differing more essentially
from the almost pure Slav, Little and
White Russians than the Provencals
feom theNorthern French or the South
ern from the Northern Germans. There
rae in European Russia 34,380,871 Mus
covites or Great Russians, 14,103,005
Khokhols or liitle Russians, and 3,502,
057 White Russians.
The Duke of Devonshire's estate at
Chatsworth contains 2,000 acres, which
he retains for his private park and
flower garden. Tho park is bounded
on all sides by hills, which cut it off
from the rest of the world, and no other
house than his own can be seen from
the windows of his grand mansion.
His flower garden alone comprises 102
acres, wherein sixty laljorers are con
stantly employed to keep it in order.
The remainder of the 2,000 acres is all
in grass and woodland, and stocked
with deer. This is said to be the finest
private residence in Europe.
Irving's residence, "Sunnyside,"
is frequently visited by that class which
is commonly termed "pilgrims to the
shrine of genius," and most of these
carry away some memorial of the spot.
The property still remains in the pos
session orchis nieces, who keep up the
condition of the grounds, the latter
being in the charge of one who has
been in this service for thirty years.
The "Cottage," like its builder, is en
tirely without pretension. When the
latter came from Europe, after seveu
enteen years' absence, he desired a
home near the river, and this led to
the purchase of the Acker house and
sixteen acres of land. The house gave
place to a picturesque cottage of the
English style, where the author passed
his last days, surrounded by an affec
tionate and devoted circle. The place
remains much as he left it when re
moved by death nineteen years ago.
His writing desk and pen remain in
the library, and his hat stands on the
hall table as though waiting for use.