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