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VOL. III.
PITTSBOltO', CHATHAM CO., N. C, MAY 19, 1881.
NO. 36.
Vnr larger advertisement Ubera! contracts wi II
The History of Life.
I saw ux infant in its mother's arms,
And left it sleeping,
lears passed I saw a girl with woman'
charms,
In sorrow weeping.
Tears passed I saw a mother with her child,
And o'er it languish,
fears brought me back yet through her tears
she smiled,
In deeper anguish.
I left her years had vanished I returned,
And stood before her ;
A lamp besido the childless widow burned,
Griefs mantle o'er her.
In tears I found her whom I loft in tears,
On God relying ;
And I returned iu after years,
And found her dying.
An infant first, and then a maiden fair
A wife, a mother
And then a childless widow in despair
Tb.ua met a brother.
And thus we meet on earth, and thus we part,
To meet, oh, never I
Till death beholds the spirit leave the heart,
To lvA forever.
TOM BOLLIVAR'S WIFE.
Somebody knocked at the door. And
such a night as it was I the snow and
the wind making it dreadful to think of
while you sat beside a roaring fire, let
alone being out on the dismal flat whero
the little house braved the fury of the
elemental war. It was quiet inside, the
loudest sound being the moan of the
wind and the hiss of the feathery snow
flakes falling down the wide mouthed
chimney to the flaring logs below.
A woman was sitting by those flaring
logs, mending a little child's frock. The
Fix lit le shoes, in various worn stages,
placed before the fire, told a story that
oftentimes louder noises than the moan
of the wind and the hiss of lost snow
flakes on the fire disturbed the room.
Sitting there sewing, and with a woman's
mind far away from what she was busy
at, and yet tied all the stronger here by
reason of her wandering thoughts, the
woman started somebody knocked at
the door.
She arose hurriedly, suppressing a
cry, and unlocked and flung the door
open. A man's voice in the snowy dark
ness said, harshly:
4 Where do Tom Bollivar's wife live at
here?"
" Yes," she answered, her hand upon
her heart, her eyes peering out in the
night; "I am Tom Bollivar's w
what do you want of me ?"
"Lass, will you ask me in? I've
news of Tom."
Ton have! Come in, sailor, and
tell me what you know."
Into the light and warmth stepped a
rough, brawny fellow, dressed in the
slipshod manner of a sailor upon shore.
He shook the snow from his shaggv
coat and his beard. Slapping his
slouch hat upon his knee, and looking
fiercely down into the little woman's
fa:e all the time, as though to intimi
date her. She returned the look with
an odd expression not frightened, but
itartled, bewildered the look that had
come to her face when she opened the
door and peered out at the man; then
from the bewildered look another came,
one of understanding, comprehension,
and 6he said to him, calmly:
" Sit by the fire ; you must be chilled
through this gruesome night."
The startled look seemed to have
Cown from her face to his, but he said,
more harshly:
" I am chilled through, Tom Bollivar's
wife, and that ain't no lie, 'cordin' to
Scripter. Are ye all alone here, wo
man ?" and glanced about him.
" No," sho said, pointing to the six
worn little shoes. The man looked at
them, and then turned his face awaj
from her for an instant.
"Now, sailor," she said, "what's thi
great news o yours ?"
"Ain't ye afeard o' me, ye a lorn
woman ?"
" Bosh ! Tell me the news I"
" Tom Bollivar's wife, ye flustrate me
But it's right, ye ain't afeard o' me
why should ye be ? I I kinder thoughi
yo might be, though. But I'm a rougl
sailor, and"
"Oh, pshaw I hurry up with th
news."
"I I don't know how to commenc
the yarn, wi' you a settin' there so un
ekcered."
"Oh, it is a yarn, eh? Well, wai
sailor, till I put some wood on the fin
then fire away."
She put the wood on, sat down on th
tool in the red light of the blaze anc
ook up the little frock again.
" Now," she said, " I'm ready."
The man had his mouth open. Despit
his bronzed skin and the fire from th
eogs, something else sent that flush ovei
his face that now suffused it.
" Be'n't ye a little narvous, anyways ?'
he asked.
" Oh, my, no; not at all 1 I'm stead
enough to count the threads while
it('h this band of our Susy's frock
Nervous! Me? Oh, dear!"
" Tom Bollivar's wife, I've that to te.
as'll not make ye brag o bein steadj
Tom Bollivar's been gone three yew
and over, eh?"
" If you know it, sailor, what do yot
ask mo for ? Don't you suppose I cai
cant the months that make thre
year8.?,,
" When did ye hear from Tom last?
He gulped, and his eyes were wrathy.
" Six months ago," she said, easily
"he was sailing for Madagascar, ano
hadn't time to say much."
" Tom Bollivar's wife," said the man.
solemnly, and suppressing his strangt
anger, "ye'll not be likely to hear froir
him agin' in a hurry; he wont wri.
soon."
" I expect not. There ain't much i it
o' him writing, anyway, seeing I ca'
answer, not knowing if I'd send mj
letters to sea that they'd find him."
"Lass, he'll never write again nc
mow. Tom won't. There tow!"
" That's a pity for Tom," sho said
biting off her thread, "for he always
likea to write a bit about the children.
Oh, dear !"
The man looked at her in blanl
amazement.
"Tom Bollivar's wife, I think I'll
commence that there yam I promised."
" Lor', sailor ; you don't mean to saj
you ain't begun yet ? What a tedious
one you can be, to be sure ! Bless mi
heart!"
Again the man gulped and gritted his
teeth. He went on, madly:
" Ye know, six months ago, Tom he
sailed around Madagascar, don't yel
Well, I was along wi' Tom, I was. M
an' him we was chums ; whatsomever ht
done, that there done I ; wheresomevei
he went, theresomever went I ; when
somever he writ to ye, I seen that there
letter, true as gospel. When he was
a-thinkin' o ye, I knowed it. But there'i
storms at sea, lass oh, sich storms!
Why, this here storm outside is a baby
squall compared wi' them there at sea,
wi' creakin', an' groanin', an' cussin', an'
orderin, an there's storms as makes jt
thiuk o' home an' your wife an babbies,
an' to look up in the face o' the angrj
sky an' try to speer out the pityin fact
:' Jesus Christ as walked on the waters
an tola them waves to be still ; storms
as makes ye look up at that there skj
that seems to be fightin' wi' the mad set
that rises up to clinch wi' it, an' falls
back all shattered an broke ; there's
storms as makes a sailor's heart cry foi
the help o' God for them as he loves,
even if the help don't save his own life
Who knowed more about storms nor mt
an Tom Bollivar? We'd fullered the
sea nigh on to twenty year, an' nevei
separated. I can't tel! ye, for ve'll feel
that bad."
" No, I won't, sailor; upon my word
I won't. I like it I like to hear yot1
talk; it sounds old-fashioned."
"Old-fashioned?"
" Yes; Tom used to sit where you sit
and I sitting in this blessed identical
spot, sewing as I do now, and he'd telJ
his awful yarns and try to make me be
lieve them. You see, I don't swallow
all I hear."
" Ye don't think I'm a-deceivin' yel
do ye?"
" I don't think much about it, so you
needn't have that in your noddle. Gc
on, do; for mercy's sake, what ails the
man?"
Such a look as he gave her !
" Well, there comes a stoma one day,
an' the skipper he comes to us an' says,
says he, It's all up wi' us, as ye sec.
Try to save yourselves. The ship had
sprung a leak, the whole side was stove
in on a rock, an' the pumps was no usej
an' we was a goin' down, an' oh, Tom
Bollivar's wife, how kin I say it ? youi
husband he wouldn't desart that there
ship as he knowed, man and boy, since
him an' the ship was both yonng."
"That's right in him," she said,
shaking her head and settling herself on
the stool, a light in her eyes, " that's
right in him. I wouldn't own Tom
Bollivar if he'd forsook his work because
it got troublesome."
"Yes but, lass, Tom he was aboard
till the last two timbers hung together.
He wouldn't go. He got the others ofl
an' helped wi' the cargo; but there he
staid; a lookin out in the direction oi
his home, and a-thinkin' o' ye an the
babbies."
"True for you, sailor," she said, hei
voice tremulous and almost glad, "and
good for Tom Bollivar."
44 But why don't ye get frustrated !
Didn't ye keernothin' 'bout Tom? Whj
don't ye get into a regUar terrer ?"
" Oh, Til get all that way after a bit.'
Again that dreadful look at her.
"Then ye didn't keer nothin' foi
Tom?"
"Now look here, sailor," she said
" you knew Tom powerful well, you say.
Didn't Tom ever know of the time and
time again when I sat here all alone
through the night after I've tucked the
children up in bed, and staid at the
window looking out at the raving storm,
thinking of my husband? Didn't he
ever know at such times that my heart
went away over the cruil sea hunting for
him went further than the sea, up to
heaven to Him that holds the sea and
the storm in the hollow of his hand?
Did ho ever know how I treasured up
every hope, every dream of him, every
word he'd ever said that I searched
the children's faces day after day, see
ng his likeness there, so that I'd never
forget his looks and should know him
always, no matter when or how I met
him ? And didn't he know how, when I
was timider for him than usual, and
wanted him more than usual, I'd
go to the children and cry: 'Babies,
babies, wake with mammy and pray
ior aacmy on the wild, wild seas?'
and how I'd fix their hands,
and how we four would kneel down and
say Our Father and feel sure that the
Lord knew what we were asking for and
would answer our prayer ! Didn't Tom
ever know how 1 must have counted
days, then weeks, then months, and at
last years, wanting him, waiting, watch
ing for him, ever true in word and
thought? Couldn't he tell you that he
guessed I loved all sailors for his sake,
and that I pitied lonely ones that came
to port here and who made friends with
me ? For I've gone to them and I've
said: Cheer up, my lads ! I'm Tom Bol
livar's wife, and he's on the briny deep.
Let me help you all I can; if you're
sick or lonesome or want little jobs oi
woman's work done for you, why, come
tome. I'm Tom Bollivar's wife and he's
on the briny deep!' And how often
and often has this room been crowded
with sailor men! And how they've
kissed the children, in case they'd
pass Tom's ship, they said, and
would seem to take the kisses
to him; or they'd kiss 'em be
cause they had little ones of their own
far away who must be looking out to ses
and thinking of their daddies. And I've
helped 'em all I could-rindeed, indeed
I have; and me and the children, why,
we've gone down to see their 6hips off,
and I've made the children wave theii
hands and say Good-bye !' right loud,
and the men have called, ' Three cheers
and a tiger for Tom Bollivar's wife!
and 'God care for the babies! And
I've done all this for love o Ton
And you don't say that he ever thought
of that, only that I didn't care for him
If he didn't know me without words,
then he didn't love me as I always
thought ho did."
And she wiped her eyes on the frock
she was mending. The man looked at
her for a minute, seemed to hold back
something he was about to say, put his
hands nervously in his pockets and
went on :
" Well, lass, yes, he knowed it. He
thought he knowed it for a truth, but
and now comes the all-firedest awful
part o' this here gospel-trufh yarn."
" Yes, sailor.
" Well now don't ye cry out, an don't
ye flop down but Tom Bollivar he
won't never, never come home no morc.':
She smiled up in his face.
" Why ?" she simply asked.
"Because he'd drownded dead," he
replied.
" I don't believe it, sailor."
" But I was wi' him all the time, 1
orter know."
" Then why wasn't you drowned, too
If you thought so much of him as yon
say, why didn't you drown trying to save
him, if nothing else ?n
" I I well, I was washed ashore. But
poor Tom! oh, lor'! poor Tom, he's
went."
"Oh, dear ! if that's the case. I might
as well make up my mind to be a
widow."
" I rather think so. Well why don't
ye get flustrated, Widder Bollivar?"
cried the man, aghast; "ye promised
that, anyways."
"I'll get that way after awhile,
sailor." '
" But I tell ye, Tom Bollivar ain't
no more; he's drowned dead, him that
was your husband."
" well, 1 can't help it, can I ? I
didn't drown him, did I ? I'm a widow,
ain't I ? Now I'll tell you what I think
about it. You see, sailor, I can't live
here all alone, now, can I ?"
" What do ye mean, Widder Bollivar?"
" That's it that's righj I'm Widow
Bollivar. But I musn't be Widow Bol
livar all my life, so I must get married."
"Married! My God! woman, youi
husband he ain't cold yet."
"I can't wait until I'm cold because
you say he ain't quite cold yet, can I T
"Do ye mean to say ye don't lov
him?"
"It would be foolish to love a dead
man and yet marry a live one."
" Who who'll have ye for a wife when
they knows all I knows? Widder, FU
tell the whole town, I'll tell the whole
world, Fll put ye in the ' log 'I mean
the papers."
" Bosh, sailor that's nonsense.
Who'll have me ? Why, you will, sailoi
I know you will."
" Git out o' my way, Tom Bollivar's
wife. Me have you? Lord! I thoughi
I'd find you crazy mad at the idee o
him bein' dead and layin' rollin' around
wi' the sharks an' sich in Davy Jones's
locker. An' now to hear ye? Oh,
woman, woman, ye don't know what
ye've done! I'll go back to my ship;
I'll hate all women for your sake; Fll
never tell who I "
" Sailor, you shall have me now."
" Let me out o' this here b - house."
" Sailor, Fll lock the door. You shall
not leave this room till you say you'll
have me for your lawful wedded wife."
"Let me out! Fll never say sich
words to you. Woman, you're a bad
lot, that's what ye are a bad, ungodly,
wicious creetur. Ye've lied to aae about
lovin your husband so ye'd get me to
marry ye ; ye've saw so many sailors, an
thinks we're all green alike. I don't be
lieve ye ever thought o' your husband ;
I don't believe even the babbies thought
o' their poor deceived father
she said, coming toward him, the tears
raining down her cheeks, her lips smil
ing; "but their father, who must
always believe me to be true and loving
their father I saw this blessed night."
"Who who their father this night?
Where is he? where is the ?"
Sho threw herself upon his breast,
her arms clasped wildly about him :
"Here, here," she cried, rapturously,
" hero is their father my Tom, my dear
old boy." And then cried aloud:
" Babies, children, wake up ! Gome to
mammy, for daddy's come home from
the cruel, cruel seas, and he's tried to
make mammy believe he was somebody
else, and that daddy was drowned, Oh,
Tom! I knew you when I opened the
door ; I never could be mistaken in you,
never, never ! " And the patter of the
children's feet, the crying of the child
ren's voices, drowned Tom Bollivar's
voice deeper than any sea had ever
drowred Tom Bollivar.
Indian Education in Virginia.
The effort has been for a natural, all
round growth rather than a rapid one.
Books, of course, are for a long time oi
no avail, and object-teaching, pictures
and blackboards take their place, with
every other device that ingenuity is
equal to, often on the spur of the mc
ment, to keep up the interest and atten
tion of the undiscipled minds that, with
the best intentions and strong desire to
know English, have small patience foi
preliminary steps. A peripatetic class
was thus devised to relieve the tedium
of the school-room, and had, to speak
literally and figuratively, quite a run.
It usually began with leap-frog, and then
went gayly on to find its "books in the
running brooks, sermons in stones," etc.
Geography is taught with molding sand
and iron raised dissecting maps ; arith
metic at first with blocks. The Indians
are particularly fond of each, and the
advanced class is quite expert in adding
up columns of figures as long as a ledger
page, and equal to practical problems oi
every-day trade and simple business ac
counts. Nothing, however, can equal the
charm of the printed page. It has ihe
old mystery of " tLc paper that talks."
" If I cannot read when I go home,"
said a young brave, "my people will
laugh at me." The gratitude of the St.
Augustines over their first text-book in
geography was touching. Reading,
writing and spelling are taught together
by the word method and charts. Later
attractive little primaries have been
very useful, and unbound numbers of
children's magazines, such as are used
in the Quincy schools. Most of the
Dakotas can now read at sight as simple
En lish as is found in these, and arr
beginning to take pleasure in reading
or in listening to easy versions
of our childhood classics of Rob
inson Crusoe, ard Christopher Colum
bus, and Georgo Washington with his
little hatchet. One of their teachers
who tried the hatchet story on them in
preparation , for the 22d of February,
says: " Such attentive listeners I never
saw before. They were perfectly en
raptured. They understood everything,
even to the moral. A few days after
this I was annoyed by talking in the
class. When I asked who did it, every
one blamed his neighbor. I said: ' Now,
boys, don't tell a lie. Who will be a
George Washington? Two boys at
once stood up and said: We did it.' "
Another teacher was less successful
with her moral, in trying to explain a
hymn they had learned to recite :
" Yield not to temptation, for yielding is sin ;
Each victory will help you somo other to win."
The next day one of the girls came to
hir, exclaiming, triumphantly: "I vic
tory! I victory! Louisa Bullhead get
mad with me. She big temptation. I
fight her. I victory !" Helen, W. Lud
low, in Harper.
The Cause of Her Grief.
Some time ago, on the Norman coast,
a bather was drowned. Up to a few
days ago his body had not been recover
ed. Every morning the young and dis
consolate widow of the drowned man
comes and seats herself on the beach,
questioning the unreplying ocean with
eyes red with weeping. It is in vain
that her friends try to dissuade her
from this painful practice.
"No," says she; "the sea has taken
him from me, and the sea must bring
him back to me."
They began to fear at last that the
woman would lose her reason, and a
distant relative was appointed to bring
her around to thoughts of resignation.
"Come, come, Henrietta," said he,
"you must give a reason for this."
"A reason!" exclaimed the widow,
between her sobs. It is very easy for
you to demand a reason, but boo-hoo-hoo
! if they don't find his body I can
never get married again !"
The remarkable surgical operation
lately performed by Theodor Billroth,
the illustrious pupil of Langenbeck, oi
removing a cancer from the stomach oi
a woman, and forming a healthful if
reduced stomach, has been attended
with success, though the operation had
never been attempted but once before
on a human being.
I rrAnmtTii -. I ' . - .,
TORTURING WITH ELECTRICITI.
The Agony which the Killer of the Czai
Were Compelled to Undergo.
According to advices from Geneva,
Russakoff and Jaliboff, the killers of the
czar, were mercilessly put to torture is
the presence of General Loris Melikoff.
Russakoff was electricized by powerful
batteries, and forced by the intolerable
agony he suffered to answer the ques
tions put to him.
Park Benjamin, the scientific expert,
said to a New York reporter: " The ides
of torturing criminals by electrictity is
not original with the Russians. It if
a British invention, and was first sug
gested about five years ago by an Eng
lish mechanical journal, in commenting
upon the execution of criminals bj
electric shock instead of by hanging.
The English writer wanted to do awaj
with the cat-o'-nine tails, which is ad
ministered in England to garroters and
other criminals of certain classes, and
use the electric battery, as he somewhat
grimly expressed it, so as to produce ab
solutely indescribable torture (unac
companied by wounds or even bruises),
thrilling through every fiber of such
miscreants. There was an American in
ventor who had a design for inflicting
this species cf punishment. He fitted
brackets of iron on the arms and thighs
of the criminal, and placed in them wet
sponges. When connected with a cur
rent of electricity the shock would by
this system pass through the lfegs and
shoulders, and avoid the vital parts oi
the body.
' The torture inflicted by electricity
is one of two kinds by contraction oi
the muscles at rapidly recurring intervals
and by burning with sparks. The tor
tures of old days, when not done by fire
or compression, were the straining and
tearing asunder of the muscles. Of this
kind were the rack, scavenger's daughter,
and the cages of Louis XIV., in which a
man could stand up or lie down. The
electric shock exactly reverses these
conditions. It produces an enormously
rapid contraction of the body of the
muscles at very short intervals. The
degree of pain produced is about the
same. The force of the electricity has
to be nicely graded, as a too powerful
shock would numb or kill a man.
" The other method is by condensing
a number of intermittent sparks on the
flesh. This burns the skin, and at the
same time produces contractions of the
muscles. If put to the side of the jaw
it would make every tooth ache."
A distinguished surgeon of whom
questions were asked concerning the
machine said : " The best way to ex
plain it is to give you actual experience,
then you will know exactly how it feels.
Here is a Faradic induction coil. I
pull cut this tube a little way. Now,
et me place this electrode to your hand
There."
"Oh!" exclaimed the inquirer, as a
tingling, thrilling sensation ran through
every finger, and his hand closed in
an involuntary grasp.
"Does it hurt ?" asked the doctor.
"A little."
" Well, we'll try again. Now you see
I pull this tube further out. I again
touch it to your hand, and "
" Whoop !" shouted the victim; "take
it away !" The feeling was as if the
hand was crushed in a vise. Everj
nerve ached and trembled with pain.
"That hurt, did it? Why that's
nothing. Here's something of a very
different sort."
He fastened to one wire a small wet
sponge and to the other wire something
like a paint brush, with the brush part
made of fine wire. He put the sponge
in the visitor's hand and then touched
the back of the hand with the wire
brush. The pain was unbearable. Ths
surface of the skin was scorched and
the muscles of the hand were contract
ed in a violent manner.
" That is called the electric scourge,"
said the doctor. " If it were dark yot
could see sparks fly from each wire.
Imagine the effect if the electricity wen
ten times more powerful."
"Could any man bear that torture ?'
" I think not; any man would confesi
under it, but it is a question what con
fidence could be placed in such a con
f ession. A man would confess anything
to escape the agony."
"WTiat could you compare the pair
to?"
"It would be the same as burning
alive."
" Would it injure the man ?"
"No not unless the pain drove hirr.
insane. If the battery were too power
ful it would kill at once. Applied tc
some parts of the body the scourge
hurts more than on others."
Fun For the Boys.
Mrs. Lewis, the English lady who has
recently come to this country to regu
late its domesticity, wants to introduce
thirteen-year-old boys as house servants.
Good idea. Lots of fun in it. How the
boys would enjoy playing pitch and toss
with the crockery, "pass ball" with the
biscuits, and squirting water from the
kitchen faucet all over the house. And
then the well known tendency of thirteen-year-old
boys to keep their hands
absolutely clean would add a relish to
the desserts that would make them as
palatable as a plate of pudding in a five
cent restaurant. .
She Read Her Title Clear.
At a church sociable some time ago a
theological student was detailed to
assist a young lady, whom he had long
admired from afar, in making out a new
Sabbath school library catalogue. The
prospective minister found the task by
no means an unpleasant one, as the
charming young creature read him the
title of each book from the title-page,
while he delightedly copied it into the
catalogue before him. In fact, there
flitted through the mind of the sedate
and rather bashful youth several times
the question whether the aforesaid
maiden, with her pretty figure and
bright eyes, could not be induced to
become the "sharer of his labors and
toils."
"I believe I would ask her to-night if
I only dared," thought the young mav.
"But I don't dare, so there's the end of
it." And with gloomier face than be
fore he continued his work, calling out,
"Next book ?" almost as mechanically as
fast as he had transcribed th forme,
title. He was aroused from his reverie
by the following rejoinder to one of his
demands for "next book:"
"Why don't you do it ?"
He started as though the girl had
been reading his thoughts.
"Do what?" he inquired, by way of
drawing her out. But the young lady
replied not a word. To gain time he
again said :
"Next book?"
"No time like the present," said the
maiden, with an encouraging smile.
"I see it is of no use to hide my
thoughts from you Miss M.,"he said,
struggling with his embarrassment.
"Your last two remarks have shown me
how perfectly you realize my state of
mind. I will, therefore, follow your
advice and embrace the present oppor
tunity of asking you whether you are
willing to accept me as your partner
for life. Your answer, I am confident
from these remarks, will be affirma
tive." It was the young lady's turn to be
embarrassed.
"To what remarks do you refer?" she
said.
"To the two sentences in which you so
delicately blended words of advice and
encouragement on this most important
of subjects, when you said, 'Why don't
you do it?' and 'No time like the
present.' "
The girl looked puzzled for a mo
ment, and then burst into a merry
laugh. "Why those were the titles of
the books you called for. Well, you
have got yourself into a pretty fix," and
she laughed at the discomfitted student
maliciously.
"Miss M.," said the young man,
springing np with sudden earnestness,
"I beg you will consider the words
which I cannot now recall. Be mine
and I shall be supremely happy. Re
fuse me and you will make me miser
able for life. Will you be mine?"
"Yes, yes ; don't make such a noise
about it or somebodv will overhearyou."
Domestic Men.
Some people like domestic men. I
don't ; they too often degenerate into
Bettys," and take entirely too much
interest in household affairs. I prefer
the liberal, large-hearted man who is
only home long enough for him to re
main agreeable there who does not
stay till things grow monotonous, and
till he grows critical on a thousand lit
tle matters that he never need notice at
all. It is not possible for the entire
machinery of housekeeping to work "
actly as he wills it day in and day , at,
and we would prefer the man of the
world, who goes in and out and enjoys
in a jocular way the pleasures and priv
ileges he has, to the critical, domestic
man who thinks he deserves so much
credit for staying at home and grumb
ling while there.
These domestic men often think that
their home and their wives are their
particular property, and that they can't
be master of their own houses if they
don't complain at every turn and look
around them as soon as they enter the
door, for some Omission or commission
that they can construe into a cause for
some sort of censure, and then begin at
once to assert themselves and keep all
around them on the defensive for hours
to come.
Now, who would not prefer a man
who would go to the "lodge," "club,"
or anywhere his fancy led him, and
there stay till his growling mood was
over, to one who brags of his domestic
traits, stays at home, sits by his fireside
and growls? Men at home are great
luxuries in the domestic circle if they
behave themselves ; if not, let theru ab
sent themselves, while strangers suffer
from their badly-balanced brains. Wa
verhf Magazine.
A Jolly Life.
Insects generally must lead a truly
jovial life. Think what it must be to
lodge in a lily. Imagine a palace of
ivory or pearl, with a pillar of silver and
capitals of gold, all exhaling such a per
fume as never rose from human censer.
Fancy again the fun of tucking your
selves up for the night in the folds of a
rose, rocked to sleep by the gentle sigh
of the summer air, nothing to do when
you awake but wash yourselves in a dew
drop, and fall to an4 eat your bed
clothes !
ITEMS OP INTEREST.
The Canadian house of commons has
passed a resolution to exempt beet
sugar from excise duty for eight years.
This is to encourage the manufacture
of beet sugar in Canada.
Land of the free The new settlers in
Texas will find plenty of elbow room, if
nothing else. One of them writes that
he has "the Rio Grand for a bath-tub
and all Mexico for a back-yard."
Mussels swim by a slight opening and
closing of the shells. They grow by
lino particles which form around the
edgo. These lines are said to indicate
the yearly growth of the creature.
It is said there aro 11,25,000 cattle
killed in the United States annually,
the meats from which amount to 4,0S8.
800,000 pounds, and their total valu'"
whon killed for food is $608,200,000.
The Lancet says that the actual caw v
of the Czar's death was loss of blood, and
thinks it most extraordinary that a mon
arch who always moved in the shadow
of death had not a surgeon close at
hand.
At Washington, D. C.f the young wo
man who is each day shot from the cata
pult, making four revolutions before
reaching terra firm, had her arms and
hands considerably lacerated. She re
peated the act, though, the next day.
A Philadelphia society is wrestling
with the question : "When a man has
his life insured for 8100,000, is his wife
justified in refusing to prepare a mus
tard plaster for him when he is seized
with a sudden and severe attack of the
cramps ?"
Men who exercise their freedom of
choice by insisting upon going to de
struction themselves and inflicting all
the harm possible upon public order
and security of life, cannot safely be
sentimentalized over, but must be dealt
with as their crimes deserve.
Prince Rudolph entered the Holy
City of Jerusalem on foot, as a pilgrim,
and walked bareheaded to the Holy Sep
ulchre. The Catholic Monks of Heb
ron having given to the Prince a curi
ously carved walking-stick, cut from a
tree in front of a spot where tradition
says Abraham used to dwell.
Turned the Juke on Him.
Among many amusing anecdotes of
the Russian Imperial family related in
the late Kar Bender's Memoirs is the
following highly characteristic story of
the eccentric Grand Duke Constantino.
While residing at Warsaw Constantino
gave a splendid banquet to a number of
great Polish nobles, to each of whom at
the conclusion of the feast an ordinary
tallow candle was served on a plate by
the attendant lackeys. As soon as all
the guests were supplied with these pe
culiarly unappetizing objects the Grand
Duke, who had given orders that an
imitation candle, admirably executed in
marchpane, should be placed upon his
plate, rose from his seat and exclaimed j.
"Gentlemen, let us eat, to the honor oi
Russia, the favorite national comestible
of my country. Look at me. This is
the way to do it." So saying, he threw
back his head, opened his mouth wide,
and inserted therein two inches or so of
the dainty in question. As he closed
his teeth, however, the expression of his
countenance suffered an extraordinary
change. One of the noblemen sitting in
his immediate vicinity had contrived to
substitute his rwn genuine tallow can
dle for the marchpane imitation set be
fore the Grand Duke, who, not choosing
to betray himself to his guests, found
himself condemned to chew at least one
copious mouthful of good Russian tal
low as an example to all the victims of
his detestable jest, none of whom, of
course, dared to abstain from doing as
the terrible Constantine did. K. Y,
World.
Influence of Children.
"I am fond of children," said the lata
Dr. Binney once. "I think them the
poetry of the world the fresh flowers
of our hearts and homes little conjur
ors with their 'natural magic,' evoking
by their spells what delights and en
riches all ranks, and equalizes the dif
ferent classes of society. Often as they
bring with them anxieties and cares,
and live to occasion sorrow and grief,
we should get on very badly without
them. Only think if there was nothing
anywhere to be seen but great grown-up
men and women ! How we should long
for the sight of a little child ! Every in
fant comes into this world like a dele
gated prophet, the harbinger and herald
of good tidings, whose office it is 'to
turn the hearts of the fathers to the
children,' and to draw 'the disobedient
to the wisdom of the just.' A child
softens and purifies the heart, warming
and melting by its gentle presence ; it
enriches the soil by new feelings, and
awakens within it what is favorable to
virtue. It is a beam of life, a fountain
of love, a teacher whose lessons few can
resist. Infants recall us from much that
engenders and encourages selfishness,
freezes the affections, roughens the
manners, indurates the heart; they
brighten the home, deepen love, invigo
rate exertion, infuse courage, and vivify
and sustain the charities of life,"
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