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Sm dpfham Record.
3lje dham JurA
H. A. LONDON, Jr.,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
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PITTSBORO', CHATHAM CO., N. C, NOVEMBER 28, 1878.
Fw larger adverOseinenU liberal contracts will be
Cheapest Goods & Best Variety
CAN BE FOUND AT
Se? Goods RraeimrT feet.
You can always find what you wish at Lon
don's. He keep everything.
DryOoodi, Clothing, Carpeting, Hardware,
Tin Ware, Drugs, Crockery, Confectionery
Shoes, Boot, Caps, Hats, Carriage
Materials, Sewing Machlnes,011s,
Putty, Glass, Paints, Nails,
Iron, Plows and Plow
Sola, Upptr and Harness Leathers,
Shawls, Blankets, Um
brellas, Corsets, Belts, La
dles Neck-Ties and Rufft, Ham
burg Edgings, Laces, Furniture, Ac.
Best Shirts in the Country for $1.
Best 5-cent Cigar, Chewing and
Smoking Tobacco, Snuff,
Salt and Molasses.
My stock Is always complete in every line,
and goods always sold at the lowest prices.
Special inducements to Cash Buyers.
My motto, "A nimble Sixpence la better
than a slow Shilling."
lyAll kinds of produce taken.
W. L. LONDON,
Ptttsboro', N. Carolina.
H. A. LONDON, Jr.,
Attorney at Law,
PITTSBORO', JT. .
j-Special Attention Paid to
DR. A. J. Y EAGER,
PERMANENTLY LOCATED AT
HTT330B0', N. C.
All Work Warranted. SatUfaotton Guarantee.
R. H. COWAN.
Staple & Fancy Drj Goods, Cloth
ing, Hats, Boots, Shoes, No
CROCKERY and GBOOERXSS.
PITTSBORO, If. C.
RALEIGH, N. CAB.
F. H. CAMERON. PreHdent.
W. E. ANDER80N, Viet Pre$.
W. H. HICKS, Scyy.
The only Home Life Insurance Co. in
All It fund loaned out AT HOME, and
among our own people. We do not send
North Carolina money abroad to build up other
States. It is one of the most successful com
panies of Its age In the United 8tates. Its as
sets 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.
PITT8BOKO N. C.
Dr. A. D. MOORE,
PITTSBOBO', H. C,
Offers tale professional services to tbe eltlsens of
Chatham. With an experience of thirty years be
hopes to five entire satisfaction.
Attorney at Law,
PITTSBOBO', N. C,
Preettoec in the Courts ot Chatham, Harnett.
Moore and Orange, and la the Supreme and Federal
O. 8. POE,
Dry Qoo&j, Groceries k Gesertl ICercfcandlM,
All kinds of Flows and Castings, Buggy
Materials, Furniture, ato.
PITTSBORO', W. CAR.
THE HOME CONCERT.
Well. Tom, my loy, I must say good-by. .
I've had a wonderful visit here ;
Eu joyed it, too, as well as I could
Away from all that my heart holds dear.
Maybe I've beeu a trifle rough
A little awkward, your wire would eay
And very likely I've missed the hint
Of your city olish day by day.
But somehow, Tom, though the same old roof
Sheltered us loth when we were boys.
And the same dear mother-love watched us both.
Sharing our childish griefs and joys,
Tet you are almost a stranger now ;
Tour ways and mine are as far aiwrt
As though we never had thrown an arm
About each other with loving heart.
Tour city home Is a palace, Tom ;
Your wife and children are fair to see ;
You couldn't breathe In the little cot.
The little home, that belongs to me.
And 1 am lost In your grand large house.
And dazed with the wealth on ever)' side.
And 1 hardly know my brother, Tom,
In the midst of so much stately pride.
Yes, the concert was grand, last night.
The singing splendid ; but, do you know.
My heart keep longing, the eveulug through.
For another concert, so sweet and low
That maybe It wouldn't please the ear
Of one so cultured and grand as you ;
But to Its musfc laugh if you will
My heart and thoughts must ever lie true.
I shut my eyes In the hall last night
(For the clash of the music wearied me).
And close to my heart this vision came
The same sweet picture I always see ;
In the vine-lad porch of a cottage home.
Half In shadow and half In sun.
A mother chanting her lullaby.
Rocking to rest her little one.
And soft and sweet as the music fell
From the mother's lips, I heard the coo
Of my baby girl, as with drowsy tongue
She echoed the song with "Uoo-a-goo."
Together they sang, the mother and the babe,
My wife and child, by the cottag ' door.
Ah ! that Is the concert, brother Tom,
My ears are aching to hear once more.
So now good-by. And I wish you well.
And uiauy a year of wealth and gain.
Tou were lioru to be rich and gay ;
am content to be poor and plain.
And 1 go back to my country home
With a love that absence has strengthened too
Back to the concert all my own
Mother's singing and baby's coo.
We were dancing a quadrille, and I,
smiling, held out my bands to John
Loring, who left Lilian to be gracefully
led to my place by Rudolph. But the
smile died away upon my lips.
Why did Lilian grow so deadly pale,
and Rudolph frown and compress his lips?
I made some blunder, for John said, in
his grave, sedate way:
" l'ou have made a mistake, Debby, this
Then my hand was clasped in Rudolph's
again, and we waited tor the side couples
to dance. But I could not help watching
Lilian talking so fast to John, her cheeks
red again too red her eyes feverish,
and her animation too maiked for my sly
little cousin. Rudolph was pale now too,
and something had disturbed his boyish
1 was glad when the dance was over,
and we wandered oft to the conservatory.
Nobody minded, for Rudolph and I had
been engaged for five years, and this ball
was one of the many given in honor of
his home-coming. He had gone to Cali
fornia to seek his fortune, leaving me
plodding away at music teaching to sup
port myself, Aunt Charlotte, and Lilian,
who was then only fourteen years old.
We were poor enough in those days,
both Rudolph and his betrothed, and for
four years there was but little variation in
the monotony of money gained for both.
Then fortune gave her wheel a sudden,
most unexpected whirl in our favor
Rudolph made a successful speculation
that lifted him at once to wealth, and
my grandmother died and left me an
It was a little bewildering at first to be
mistress of a handsome country seat, a
town house, carriages, jewels, and a large
bank account, but I had not always been
poor, and I soon became accustomed to
If I had kept my dear little crippled
aunt and Lilian with me when every
week's income had to be divided with
painful economy, it was scarcely probable
that we would separate when I was able
to give them luxuries. And John Loring
was still my friend, as he had been when
mamma was living and poor papa's affairs
were found to be so embarrassed after his
There was no mystery about my en
gagement, and when Rudolph came home
we were all making a summer sojourn at
Wylde Glen, where my country seat was
located. John was at the hotel, but he
came over often, and all the neighbors
were very sociable. So we had balls,
picnics, croquet parties, and every sort of
festivity, to amuse Rudolph, while my
trosseau was being made in New York,
and a wedding trip discussed.
This ball of Mrs. Maitland's was one of
the last, for autumn leaves were falling.
I had thought when I was dressing for it,
that the years of poverty and toil had not
left their traces upon Rudolph's face as
they had on mine. I was always fair and
blonde, but I looked faded, washed out,
and my blue dress did not become me.
Or was it Lilian's face looking over my
shoulder that made me think so? Lilian
was fair, but her rippling hair was a per
fect bronze color, eyes brown, and soft as
a fawn's, and her lips tinted like rose
petals. In her low, broad brow, and
sensitive lips, you read genius, for the
child was an artist born, with wondrous
musical gifts and rare fancies. She was
tall and slender, the perfection of grace,
and her dress of fleecy white, with green
leaves in her hair and on her breast,
suited her charmingly.
And yet I was only twenty-five, cer
tainly not old. Rudolph was five years
older, and still, despite his brown beard
and manly carriage, Rudolph was boyish
in his frankness, his enjoyment of fun, his
energy, and love of athletic sports.
He had been heavily burdened, though
he had been rich. But I ah me! I had
nursed mother through two years of sick
ness, after father failed in business, and
died soon after. I had gone to Aunt
Charlotte's when she fell down stairs, and
her busy usefulness left her forever. s
had remained with her, taking her pupil
with my own, and helping Lilian to get
It was a hand to hand struggle with
poverty and heartache, varied by weeks
at a time of nursing Aunt Charlotte
through weeks of agonizing suffering, and
it had left me aged beyond my years.
Many a time I would have despaired but
for John Lorinfr one of nam's hnainpna
friends, and our adviser in all matters of
But it was all over. I was rich.
Rudolph was at home, and as tenderly
loving as I could wish. Only as we
walked to the conservatory, I wished
Lilian had not grown so pale when we
changed partners in the quadrille, and
Rudolph took her little white gloved hand
in his. He talked gently to me as we
stood by the plashing fountain told me
of some purchases he had made for our
home, and commented pityingly upon my
weary eyes and cheeks.
' All this dissipation is too much for
you, Debby," he said, and I hated my
old-fashioned name as he spoke it. Lilian
was softer, more musical. Why was I
named for my grandmother?
"I will bring a carriage for you to-morrow,"
Rudolph said, 4 'and take you to
some quiet place to rest for a few hours.
Ohly you and me, Debby, remember!"
And I was content again until, passing
Lilian's door, long after we returned
home, I heard her sobbing.
What ailed the child? For weeks she
had been growing pale and nervous or
fitfully gay, and never had her music
moved me to tears as it had done of late.
Aunt Charlotte seemed changed, too, ten
der to me with an added tenderness, and
overscrupulous about leaving me alone
I wished sometimes that Rudolph was
not quite so careless and merry; he jested
about all things; and yet I have heard him
sigh over Lilian's sad song as if he was
broken-hearted. It made me feel old that
so often their merriment jarred upon me,
for when Rudolph first came he treated
Lilian like the child he had left five years
before. When we rode they would race
their horses, leaving me far behind, for I
am not a brave horse-woman, while
Lilian, so sensitive and gentle at all times,
is fearless on horseback.
They would sing gleeful duets together
Rudolph's clear tenor well supporting
Lilian's sweet, pure tones, while 1 humi
liating to confess, had become so disgusted
with leading childish fingers through
scales and exercises, that I never touched
a piano when it could be avoided.
I looked upon it all complacently
enough, often turning to smile at John as
these two jested or made merry at my ex
pense; but I did not like to see it all change.
Of late Lilian had seldom come into the
drawing-room during Rudolph's visits,
and Rudolph missed her. I was sure of
that; for, while he was always affectionate
and kind, he was abstracted often.
John, too, stayed away more than usual,
and John was my best friend. 1 was not
even as confidential to Rudolph, for he
had been five years away, and was not
changed as I was.
It was altogether strangely uncomfor
table, when one considered that I was to
be married in October, and go to Europe
with Rudolph, whose ancestors were Ger
man, and who had a desire to visit his
grandfather's home in Munich. Lilian
had helied to plan out a most tempting
tour for us through England, France,
Spain, Italy, and Germany, and Rudolph
complimenting us both upon our German,
which was familiar to him, his mother
having taught him to speak it at home.
The day after the ball was stormy, and
we slept late. At least I did not sleep,
but I stayed in my room. There was
some letters to be written, and I was pre
paring a rough draft of a deed of gill to
Aunt Charlotte. I did not want two town
houses, and Rudolph had bought a superb
mansion that he was fitting up for his
bride. So my house I resolved to give to
Aunt Charlotte, with a sufficient sum to
maintain her in comfort after I left her.
Nobody knew but John, and he was coin
ing to take my papers and make them out
legally. Did 1 say that John was a suc
cessful lawyer? 1 knew that he would
come, even if it did rain, though I scarcely
expected Rudolph till evening, as the rain
would prevent our proposed excursion.
It was late in the forenoon when I went
down to the library, a small room adjoin
ing the drawing-room, and separated by a
curtained arch. Being a woman's home,
the library had never been very extensive
more a cosy reading room than study.
I was waiting there for John, nestling
in the easy chair, and wondering if it was
the ball that mode me so languid, when I
heard the drawing-room door open, and
presently Lilian touched the keys of the
grand piano, her fingers gliding into a
dreamy nocturne that was one of her late
favorites. The curtains were looped so
that I could see her, in her white dress,
with no ornament but soft lace, and I
sighed to see how wan and white she
looked, what quivering pain was on her
sweet mouth and in her large eyes.
Some one else saw it, for while se
played, Rudolph came in. All the merri
ment was gone now from his face, and he
leaned on the piano, listening, and not
noting how her fingers faltered as he fixed
his eyes upon Lilian's face.
When he spoke he said:
"I am going away, Lilian."
"You are wise," she said faintly."
"I can make some excuse to Debby,
and I will stay in town until you all come
to the wedding! I was a miserable
coward last night, Lilian, torturing you
and myself; but I will not offend again."
"No," she said, gently, "I am sure of
that. We must both be brave, for Debby
must never know. Neither you nor 1
could be false to Debby, Rudolph. Think
what she has been to me?"
"And tome! My faithful love!"
The mist was gone from my eyes, and
? knew the whole secret of what had
puzzled me. Rudolph had found the
gentle, sympathetic love that suited his
manly nature, and Lilian the brave protec
tor that her timidity needed.
And I Debby what ailed me? For I
was glad! Glad to see my lover faithless
in heart true in honor.
I had not heard John come in, but
when I turned my head he was there,
with stern lips and drawn brow, until he
saw my smile. Then a glad light leaped
into his eyes, and he whispered:
"Oh, my darling, it is so? You are not
heart-broken! You do not love him?"
"It must have been a girlish fancy," I
said, astonished at myself.
'But the woman's heart! Debby, have
you never guessed the torture it was tome
to know that you were not free. Do you
not know that I have loved you, always,
"I did not know," I faltered. "I only
What?" he asked, as I hesitated.
"Happy beside you," I said, softly;
"lonely without. John, I know now
why I have not been happy since Rudolph
"You are mine," he said, oh, so ten
derly. And I put my hand in his and let
him press one kiss upon my lips. Then I
pushed back the curtain3 fully, and went
into the drawing-room.
Lilian was still at the piano, but Ru
dolph was standing by the window,
watching the rain with gloomy brow. I
crossed the room quickly to his side, while
John stopped to speak to Lilian.
"Rudolph," I said quietly, "you must
not go away."
He flushed, and said:
"Debbv? You heard!"
"Yes. " I I"
John came to my rescue as usual. Tak
ing Lilian's hand he led her forward,
smiling as he said :
"Do you not understand, Rudolph?
And that told tie whole story. There
were two weddings in October, and Lilian
went with Rudolph, to Europe, while John
and I settled down in my old home with
Aunt Charlotte forour guest until her own
child returns to her.
SOME GOOD ADVICE OX THE PKESER
VATION OF A PURE HEART.
No organ in the body is so liable to
be overworked as the heart. When
every other part of the body sleeps, it
keeps on its perpetual motion. Every
increased effort or action demands from
the heart more force. A man runs to
catch a train and his heart beats audi
bly. He drinks wine, and his blood
rushes through its reservoir faster than
ever was intended by nature. His pulse
rises after each course at dinner. A
telegram arrives and his heart knocks
at his side. And when any one of these
"excitements" is over, he is conscious
of a corresponding depression a 44 sink
ing" or "emptiness," as it is called.
The health- action of all the members
bf our frame depends upon the supply
of blood received from this central
fountain. When the heart's action is
arrested, the stomach, which requires
from it a large supply of blood, becomes
enfeebled. The brain, also waiting for
blood, is inactive. The heart is a very
willing member ; but if it be made to
fetch and carry incessantly, if it be
"put upon," as the unselfish member
of a family often is, it undergoes a dis
organization which is equivalent to its
rupture. And this disorganization be
gins too often nowadays in the hearts
of very young children. Parents know
that if their sons are to succeed in any
of those competitive examinations which
have now become so exigent, high
pressure is employed, Hence young
persons are stimulated to overwork by
rewards and punishments. The sight
of a clever boy who is being trained for
competition is truly a sad one. These
precocious coached-up children are
never well. Their mental excitement
keeps up a flush, which, like the excite
ment caused by strong drink in older
children, looks like health, but has no
relation to it. In a word, the intem
perance of education is overstraining
and breaking their young hearts.
If in the school-room some young
hearts are broken from mental strain,
in the playground and in the gymna
sium others succumb to physical strain.
"It is no object of mine," says Dr.
Richardson, 44 to underrate the advan
tages of physical exercise for the young;
but I can scarcely overrate the dangers
of those fierce competitive exercises
which the world in general seems de
termined to applaud. 1 had the oppor
tunity once in my life of living near a
great trainer, himself a champion
rower. He was a patient of mine, suffer
ing from the very form of induced heart
disease of which I am now speaking,
and he gave me ample means of study
ing the conditions of many of those
whom he trained both for running and
for rowing. I found occasion certainly
to admire the physique to which his
trained men were brought, the strength
of muscle they attained, the force of
their heart; but the admiration was
qualified by the stern fact of the re
sults." The symptoms of failure of the heart
from overwork are usually restless
ness and irritability. Sleepless nights
are followed by an inability to digest
a proper amount of food ; and meals,
which have probably been taken at
irregular intervals and in haste, become
objectionable. Stimulants are now re
sorted to ; but these nourish a working
man as little as a whip nourishes a
horse. They give him an exciting
fillip ; but the best medical men tell us
that in nine quarts of alcohol there is
less nourishment than could be put on
the blade of a table-knife. The patient
for he is a patient by this time is con
scious of a debility which he cannot
shake off, and sleep now, even if it
come, does not refresh. Occasionally,
as the man is pursuing some common
avocation, he is struck with the fact
that thoughts are not at the moment
as clear to him as they ought to be.
He forgets names and events that are
quite familiar, or he is seized for a
moment with a sudden unconsciousness
and tendency to fall. 44 When we sit
writing or reading or working by gas
light, and the gas suddenly goes down
and flickers, we say 4 4 the pressure is
off at the main." Just so in a man
who in declining health suddenly loses
consciousness, when his mind flickers,
then, in his organism, the nressure is
off at the main that is, the column of
blood which should be persistently
passing from his heart to his brain is
for the moment not traveling with its
due force, to vitalize and illuminate
the intellectual chamber."
But, indeed, it is not by overwork so
much as by worry and anxiety that our
hearts are disorganized. 44 Laborious
mental exercise is healthy, unless it be
made anxious by necessary or unneces
sary difficulties. Regular mental labor
is best carried on by introducing into
it some variety. New. work gives time
for repair better than attempt to com
plete rest, since the active mind finds
it impossible to evade its particular
work unless its activity be diverted
into some new channel." Business and
professional men. wear out their hearts
by acquiring habits of express-train
haste, which a little attention to method
would render unnecessary.
We speak now of the heart-breaking
effect of passion, and first of anger. A
man is said to be "red" or "white"
with rage. In using these expressions
we are physiologically speaking of the
nervous condition of the minute circu
lation of the man's blood. "Red"
rage means partial paralysis of minute
blood-vessels, and 44 white" rage means
temporary suspension of the action of
the prime mover of the circulation
itself. But such disturbances cannot
often be produced without the occur
rence of permanent organic evils of the
vital organs, especially of the heart
and of the brain. One striking exam
ple is given by Dr. Richardson in the
case of a member of his own profession.
44 This gentleman told me that an origi
nal irritability of temper was permitted
by want of due control to pass into a
disposition of almost persistent or
chronic anger, so that every trifle in
his way was a cause of unwarrantable
irritation. Sometimes his anger was
so vehement that all about him were
alarmed for him even more than for
themselves ; and when the attack was
Over there were hours of sorrow vud
regret in private, which were as ex
hausting as the previous rage. In the
midst of one of these outbreaks of short
severe madness he suddenly telt, to use
his own expression, as if his 4 heart
were lost.' He reeled under the im
pression, was nauseated and faint;
then recovering, he put his hand to his
wrist, and discovered an intermittent
action of his heart as the cause of his
faintnuss. He never completely rallied
from that shock; and to the day of
his death, ten years later, he was
never free from the intermittency.
I am broken-hearted,' he would any,
'physically broken-hearted.' And so
he was; but the knowledge of the
broken heart tempered marvelously his
passion, and saved him many years of
a really useful life. He died ultimately
from an acute febrile disorder."
Euvy, hatred and all uucharitable
ness exercise almost as destructive an
influence on a man's physical nature,
and particularly upon his heart, as they
do upon his moral character. To say
that 44 sorrows grieve the heart" is
more than a metaphor. Cromwell
hears his son is dead, and 41 It went
clean to my heart, that did," is his
physiologically correct description of
his experience. When Hamlet thinks
of the 44 wicked speed'' with which his
mother married his fathers murderer,
indignation forces from him the words,
44 But break, my heart, for I must hold
my tongue." Permanent intermittency
of the heart is often induced by a single
sudden terror. Whenever, from undue
excitement of any kind, the passions
are permitted to overrule the reason,
the result is disease ; the heart empties
itself into the brain; the brain is stricken,
and both are ruined.
Wine is commonly said to 4 4 make
glad the heart ;" but such hilarity is
short-lived; and it would seem from
the latest discoveries of science that
the drunkard is even physically a
heart-broken man. The heart is nothing
more than a force-pump to keep up the
circulation of the blood. The pulse
indicates the beats or strokes of the
pump. If the beats be more than sev
enty per minute in a middle-aged
person, something is wrong ; there has
been some kind of over-stimulus. The
use of alcohol increases the number of
beats, just as a violent fire makes a
kettle boil over. This over-action of
the heart is a terrible enemy to good
health. It is killing by inches. The
fact, however, only breaks on people
when the mischief is far advanced and
past remedy. Our counsel to habitual
imbibers of alcohol is, 44 Look to your
pulse," for on the proper working of
the heart length of days in a great
measure ' depends. The throbbing of
the heart is a criterion and guide which
all can understand.
These few illustrations show us that
if we would keep our hearts whole we
must cultivate that self-knowledge, self
reverence, self-control, that 4 'alone lead
life to sovereign power." Did we know
ourselves and our real capacities, we
would not break our hearts working
and worrying to attain objects which
have been placed beyond our reach.
Rather we would be wisely ambitious
of serving our generation in that way and
in that place to which our powers and
circumstances point. The fretful stir
unprofitable that wears out life gener
ally arises from false ambition striving
after impossibilities, which by reason
of self-ignorance are not perceived to
be such. And, surely, if a man will
rightly value and reverence himself,
he will be content to well use the one
talent that has been intrusted to him
rather than make himself miserable
and ruin his health in competing with
those who have received live or ten
talents. It is well to " scorn delights
and 'live laborious days;" but the
energy of which we in these islands
are rightly proud is too much devel
oped when competition breaks our
hearts, and when, for the sake of get
ting on, we throw away life itself.
Speaking of the Arabs, in his book
44 Mohammed and Mohammedanism,"
Mr. R. Bosworth Smith makes the fol
lowing not unnatural reflection : "It is
surely a relief to turn, if only for a
moment, to the supreme contentment
of an Arab with his lot, to his careless
ness of the future, to his ineffable dig
nity of repose from the feverish activity,
the constant straining after an ideal
which can never be satisfied, the " life
at high pressure," which is the charac
teristic of the more active, but hardly
the more highly gifted races of the
West. It is not that the Arab lacks
the intelligence or the power to change
his condition he docs not wish, or
rather he wishes not, to do so. " Know
ing well that the "pains and penalties
of idleness" are even greater than those
of overwork and anxiety, we warn the
indolent not to lay the flattering unc
tion contained in the foregoing words
to their souls. They are quoted for
the sake of those whose danger lies
in an opposite direction. Chambers1
Caws" and Effect. The follow
ing verdict was recently handed in by
the foreman of a coroner's jury -:
"We are of A Pinion that the decest
met with her death from Violent in
firmation in the Arm produest from
"Young man, we eat rind and all
here," said a boarding-house keeper to
a boarder who was taking off the outer
portion of a piece of cheese. "All
right," replied the boarder, "I'm cut
ting thii off for you."
ADAM'S LONELY BOYHOOD.
In beginning a series of sketches con
cerning the youthful days of eminent
people, it seems eminently fitting that
we commence with Adam. It is rather
difficult to conceive Adam as a boy, we
admit, owing to the popular supersti
tion that has painted him coming into
the world full grown, with whiskers
and mustache complete, and prevailing
belief that there wasn't a boy in the
world until Eve came and raised the
Old Boy with Adam; yet we prefer to
think of our ancient progenitor as hav
ing had something of a boyhood, and
we suppose we have as gtod a right to
theorize upon the subject as any one
Adam was piuuaifly tusuiiscuievuus,
naturally, as boys generally are. In
fact, Darwin says he was "a perfect
little monkey," which, we believe, is a
synonym for mischievousness the world
over. But he had no companions m
his gambols. If he staid out after
dark, and got to cutting up, it was all
by himself. And what sport could he
have ringing door bells without a lot of
other boys to scamper away with? And
consider the melancholy fun of fasten
ing cords across the walk at night with
nobody to trip over them.
We can imagine young Adam, with
all the instincts of a boy two inches
thick in his nature, looking about for
some way to divert himself as other
boys do, and whimpering to himself,
"Can't have any funl"
Oi course, he couldn't by any possi
bility nave any fun. No fun running
away from school, or stealing off to go
in swimming, because there was no one
to lick him when he got home. No fun
sneaking up into the hay-mow to in
dulge in a surreptitious game of euchre
always bad to "play it alone." He
couldn't play "tag," because he might
yell "I've got the tag" all day, and
there would be no one to come and take
it.away from him. "Hi-spi" had no
charm, for a boy soon gets tired ot hid
ing when he has to go to work to find
himself. And where is there a boy
who likes to work and "find himself?"
The more we think about Adam's
lonely boyhood the more we are inclined
to pity him. He never knew what a
circus meant, at least not until Eve
came and introduced him to one. But
we have nothing to do with that now,
as we are only treating of Adam's boy-
noou. j. rue, mere was a big menagerie
all round him, but the animals were
tame attairs, lambs and lions lying
down together m the most spiritless
concord, and the hippopotamuses and
canary birds playing with each other
like kittens. Little Adam never sat
way up on the highest seat and gazed
awe-stricken while a man in spangled
tights sprang, whip in hand, into a cage
of savage beasts, that rolled their evs.
gnashed their teeth, and roared until
me canvas overhead napped lor very
fear. No, indeed. He never saw a
thin-legged female in short skirts ride a
loping horse around a ring and jump
through a hoop, while a man with his
face painted white, and his mouth a red
exaggeration, tells that convulsive story
about stuffing hay into his shoes to fill
them out, and his calves going down to
eat the hay. ' Young Adam never saw
the "old clown," though he came very
soos after Adam's day, and the jokes he
commenced with he has been getting oft
And how about base ball? Do you
suppose that Adam knew anything
about that exhilarating diversion that
is now doing so much toward develop
ing the intellects of our American
youth? There is no likelihood of it, not
while he was a boy. His son Cain,
however, seems to iiave been the first
who got up a "club," but it was the
death of his brother Abel.
While there were so many things
that the boy Adam missed, think not
that his solitary life was not without
its compensations. There was no other
boy to steal his marbles, or hide his
top, or jeer at him because he had to
wear his big brother's cast-off does, or
holler across the street that he had "a
letter in the post-office," or fix a bent
pin for him to sit down on, or make
faces at his sister, or spell him down,
or steel his dinner, or tell on him when
he had been in mischief, or beat him
out of his sweetheart. Adam escaped
these and a thousand other annoyances
that boys subject each other to. He
hadn't any brothers and sisters to tease
and worry him, and with whom he was
compelled to divide his playthings and
any nice things to eat that might come
that way. He could leave a piece of
sweet-cake lying around anywhere,
knowing that none of the rest of the
children would touch it; and at night,
on retiring, he could stick his "gum"
on the headboard, confident that it
would rest undisturbed until morning.
Whatever trmihlA anrl nnnnvanCftK
his matrimonial life may have brought
him. we find n. kind nf satisfaction in
rp.flecr.inor that Adam's hovhnod was
exceptionally free from care, and on
Mint account we are uouuu tu cuuuuuc
that his life was not uu entire failure.
A spiritualistic seance was being
held, at which it was announced that
the spirit of the ''Immortal William"
would pass through the room. A
skeptic took a handful of tin tacks to
the meeting place, and quietly sprin
kled them over the floor. The solemn
moment came; a ghastly form entered
and took a noiseless stride forward.
There was a slight shiver in the white
object, and a muttered noise was heard:
a second step followed, not quite so
steady, and another muffled ejaculation;
but at the third stride Shakspere's
disembodied form sat plump down
upon the floor, and swore like the
British army in Flanders.
" Eugene Yuss, will you name an
adjective signifying sweet ?" "Tart,
sir!" "Why, you idiot, that means
sour. " "Please, sir, I meant 8weet'art.'
Then that boy was promoted from the
top of the class up to the foot, and the
schoolmaster smiled as he said it was
because he was a 'Gene-Yuss.
A boarding-house mistress, like the
rest of us, has her weak and strong
points, the weak point being her coffee
and her strong point the butter.
It was only a little kerosene lamp
that broke, but it took $40,000 worth
of property along with it at Casco,
Me., the other night.
A Boston house has lately received
a 200,000 clothes-pin, a 100,000 broom
handle, and a 5,000 ream sandpaper
order from Great Britain.
The value of goods carried over
the Pennsylvania railroad during the
year 1876, amounted to the sum of
$590,942,158, not including the value
of the goods carried by express.
Out of the $1,500,000,000 annually
earned by ingiisn woiiuuginen, uiey
only save $20,000,000 instead of $75,000.
000; which they could easily do; the bal
ance is mostly wasted in drink
The ammonia of the commercial
fertilizers manufactured iu the suburbs
of Augusta, Ga., has completely driven
out the chills and fever and other mal
aria that used to infest the locality.
The Empress of Austria's parents
Maximilian, Duke in Bavaria, and
the Princess Ludovica have just cele
brated their golden wedding at Teger
nesee, the celebration being strictly
Washington has a population of
131,000, of whom 42,000 are colored.
There were found twenty-two colored
over 100 years old, one being reported
as old as 110. Seventy persons were be
tween U0 and 100.
The official statistics of immigra
for the last thirty years show that Ger
many and Ireland have furnished ua
more than 2,000,000 immigrants each,
but that Germany is upward of 400,000
ahead of Ireland.
Castor beans are now very success
fully cultivated in Southern Illinois,
St. Clair county alone yielding, it is
said, about 300,000 gallons of the oil,
of which there are several large manu
factories in St. Louis.
A carbine which Wm. W. Leeman,
one of John Brown's captains, dropped
in l'otomac during the Harper's .b erry
fight before he was killed, was found
recently, and is now on exhibition at
Population is pouring into Kansas
at an almost unprecedented rate. Du
ring the year ending last month about
two million acres ot Government land
were taken up, and the increase of popu
lation is estimated as 150,000.
General Lew Wallace has left In
dianapolis for Santa Fe. His family
will not join him immediately. He has
nearly completed his promised histori
cal novel, and will go on with the work
in the intervals of his official labors.
Portugal has but one university,
Coimbra, founded in 1290. It has 70
instructors and 1,100 students. There
are 2,350 elementary schools, and pa
rents whose children cannot read and
write by fifteen, lose their political
The Bank of England was started
in 101)4 with a capital of 1,200,000. A
century ago, in 1778, its notes in cir
culation amounted to 7,000,000; now
they exceed 39,000,000 and the bul
lion has increased from 2,000,000 to
Mr. Murat Halstead has just had
the grievous misfortune of losing his
seven-year-old son a bright child who
has been staying with friends in Mis
souri during the visit of his parents
abroad. It is the first break in that
pleasant group of clever and pretty
There is a hail insurance company
in France and only one whose profit
and loss account for 1877 shows a
profit of 851,889 francs, after writing
off the loss of 1870 of 720,120 francs.
Its premium income for the year
amounted to 3,037,097 francs in respect
of 52,917 policies, and its losses to
"Habit" is hard to overcome. If
you take off the first letter, it does not
change "a bit." If you take off an
other, you still have a "bit" left. If you
take off still another, the whole of "it"
remains. If you take off still another,
it is not "t" totally used up. All of
which goes to show that, if you wish to
be rid of a "habit," you must throw
it off altogether.
The public debt of Europe was
divided as follows in 1870: France,
$4,087,921,400; Prussia, $229,852,375;
Italy, $2,000,000,000; Russia, $1,254,
810,000 ; Spain, $2,650,000,000; Turkey,
$927,000,000; Great Britain, $3,884,
852,720. These are the heaviest debts,
and they bear hardest on Turkey, Italy,
Russia and Spain. While some of the
debts may have slightly decreased in
the last two years, others have&reatly
increased, as in the cases of Russia and
Prince Albert Victor, the eldest
son of the Prince of Wales, a boy with
an erect figure and a heavy face, is to
enter a military academy by-and-by.
When he is seventeen he will go into
the army, and, it is said, is not unlike
ly to emulate the example of his soldier
like uncle, the Duke of Connaught,
and undertake at first the most sub
ordinate duties. Prince George of
Wales is to adopt the naval profession.
Nothing hurts a man more than
to seem small in his own eyes. It is
the slavish feeling that degrades the
slave. A base ambition makes the man
that cherishes it base. No one can de
base you but yourself. Slander, satire,
falsehood, injustice these can never
rob you of your manhood. Men may
lie about you, they may denounce you,
they may cherish suspicions manifold,
they may make your failings the target
of their wit or cruelty, never be alarmed ,
never swerve an inch from the line your
judgment and conscience have marked
out for you. They cannot by all their
efforts take away your knowledge of
yourself, the purity of your motives,
the integrity of your character, and the
generosity of your nature. While these
are left, you are, in. point of fact, ua-harmed.