THE ALAMANCE GLEANER VOL. I. THE GLEANER. PUBLISHED wekkly BY PARKER & JOHNSON, Graham, IN". C« RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION, Postage Paid: One Year f2 00. Bix Months , 1 jo Clubs! Clubs!! For 6 copies to one P 0.1 year.,... .$lO 00 ,J 6 " " " 6 month*. ,i 550 » jo -« •> i « 1 year..-....:..... ...15 00 " 10 " " " "6 mouths 800 « 20 " '• " " 1 year 28110 " 20 " " « " 6 months 15 09 No departure from the cash system. RITES OF ADVERTISING* Transient advertisements payable in advance; yearly advertisements quarterly in advance. 1 mo. | 2 mo. | 3 uio | 0 mo. 12 mo. 1 square $ 2 251 $ 3 OOj $ 4 soj s72os 10 80 2 " 360 ] 640 720 15 K0 16 20 3 " 5 ioj 720 900 lii JiO 22 60 — —*44 irjrrr TUB To so 18 oo ' 27 oo 5 " 7 201 13 50 -16 20 22 50 32 40 % column 10 20[-,,16 20 18 00 27 00 45 00 U " 13 50 18 00 27 (X) 45 00 72 00 1 " 18 Oo| 31 50 45 0 72 00 126 00 Transient advertisements $1 per square for the first, and 50 cents for each subsequent insertion. Advertisements not specified as to time, published until ordered ont, and charged accordingly. All advertisements considered due from first inser tion. -r 1 . i. One Inch to constitute a square. POETUY. THE POOR MAN AT THE 6ATE OF PAKADIKE-A HORNISU ItKKAM. BY W. WAYBRIDGE, ESQ. A poor old man died on one bitter cold day, And directly to Paradise wended his way ; Saint Peter he met—'tis a dream I relate— With his great shining keys, keeping ward at the gate. Now, while standing here, with the Apostle conversing. The events of his journey to heaven rehears ing, He sees a rich townsman—the gate is ajar Slip quietly by them and In through the bar. He listens ; he hears peals of music arise To welcome this man to bis home in the Blues ; But on entering himself, though bright visions fill His fancy with rapture, all is silent and still. "Hew is this.?" —turning back to Saint Peter, his guide; In accents of wonder the poor man then cried; "When my neighbor went in, sweetest music I heard; , v Why is not the same honor on me bow con ferred? "D'ye keep up the distinction here, please let me know, 'Twixt the rich and the poor that we had down below?" "Not at all," said Saint Peter ; "oh, no, not at » all; • . Just as brothers we live in this banqueting hall ; "But poor folks like you, I am happy to say, By hundreds pass through the gate every day ; About once in a year comes a rich man along, Then all Paradise rings with a general song!' MISCELLANY. How Postage Stamps are Made. The process of manufacturing the little postage stamps is quite interest ing: In printing, steel plates are used, ou which 200 stamps are engraved. Two men are kept at work covering them with the colored inks and passing them to a man and a girl, who are equally busy at printing them with large rolling hand presses. Three of these little squads are employed all the time, although ten presses can be put into U3e in case of necessity. After the small sheets of paper upon which the 200 stamps are engraved have dried enough they are sent into another room and gummed. The gum used for this purpose is a peculiar composition, made of the powder of dried potatoes and other vegetables mixed witn water, which is better than any other mate rial, for instance, gam arabic, which cracks the paper badly. This paper is also of a peculiar texture, somewhat similar to that used for bank notes. After having been again dried, this time on little rackß which are fanned by steam power for about an honr, they v are put between sheets of pasteboard, and pressed in hydraulic presses, capable of applying a weight of two thousand tons. The' next thing is to cnt the sheets in half; each sheet of course, when cut, contains a hundred stamps. This is done by a girl with a large pair of shears, cutting bv hand being preferred to that of machinery, whicn method would destroy too many stamps. -They are then passed to two "other sqnads, who in as maMppera tions perforate the sheets between the stamps. Next they are pressed once more, and then packed and labelled, and stowed away in another room, preparatory to being put in mail for despatching to fulfill orders. If a ». • single stamp is torn, or in any way mutilated, the whole sheet of one hun dred are burned. About five hundred thousand are burned every week from this cause. For the past twenty years not a single sheet has been lost, soch care has beeta taken in counting them. Daring the progress of manufacturing, the sheets are counted eleven times. A Detroit gentleman, walking behind two school children the other day, heard the boy inquire, "Will you be at the party to-night f" "I shall be then answered the miss, "but I may aa well tell you now that your lore is hopeless; mamma is determined, father is set, and it isn't right for me to efcooarage your attention. I can be a sister to you, but nothing more. Therefore you needn't buy me any valentine >r give me any more gum. ' - % ««l » ' A pretty pieoe of business—Drawing salaries. GRAIIAM, ALAMANCE COUNTY, NORTH CAROLINA, TUESDAY, APRIL 6, 1875. MRS. STIITH'S IINESSK BY HARKIET IRVING. " Madame Goureaud walked in her garden in the lovely June weather. She was very fond of the flowers, and spent a great deal of time among them. It was not her fault that a young gen tleman in one of the row of houses opposite sat at his window, nor even that he cast admiring glances s6me where in her direction. She bloomed as her roses did, without an effort. This little tribute to the lady's charms would have injured na one, even when the unknown gentleman was so bold as to kiss his hand and lay it upon his heart if monsieur, the husband, had not been possessed of an evil spirit of jealousy, which kept him always on the qui vive lest some one sho«ld admire his lovely Therese too greatly. In this parlicular instance, Monsieur Goureaud had become remarkably un easy—so much 80, that he had felt called upon to leave his place of busi ness at all sorts of inopportune hours and enter the house abruptly, some times to join Madame Goureaud in the garden; sometimes to watch her for hours from behind the closed blinds. As. for the lady, she was all discretion and propriety. She never onoe lifted her large eye lids. She was a woman of more than ordi nary acuteness and was well aware when both these gentlemen's glances were riveted npon her, but she onty (shrugged her plump shoulders aDd said nothing, arguing within herself that there was no reason why she should neglect her floral treasures because an impertinent neighbor wished to observe hervleatnres, neither was there the least reason in the world why she should interfere with poor Alphonse's pastime if he wished to peep behind the blinds. The sun was setting. Madame Gou reaud had entered her house to see that the servants had set all things in order for supper. The snowy damasks, the replendent silver, the strawberries in their nest Of green leaves, the dainty confections, all were spread in beauti ful array. Monsieur Goureaud has de scended to the supper table, bearing his hat and walking stick ostentatiously in his hand, though he had passed a very convenient receptacle for them, which fact madame's flexible eyebrows remarked in dumb show. Meanwhile the admiring neighbor looked disconsolately from his window. He was an exceedingly young man of the pale student order, long as to nose and limb, lemon color as to hair, eye brows and moustache, lean and melan choly. He ran his fingers through his hair and Bighed, looked first at his neighbor's house and then to heaven, snatched paper, pen, ink and blotter from the interior of his desk, which al ways stood handy during his evening meditations, and indited verses, proba bly, tor at regular intervals his nose pointed skyward and he placed his fingers on his brow as if meditating a rhyme, then nose and pen dipped, and two more*lines went smoothly. He had covered a large and elegant sheet of paper with his chirography. He lifted it with an admiring glance, laid it down again, turned to his desk, it may be for a ruler, when a treacher ous gust of wind, as though enamored 1 of the glowing words, caught up the i production of his muse, and wafted it' out of his reach. O, horror ? It was circling in space. It descended wheel ! ing, slowly, slowly. -* Perhaps, after all, j it was not so far wrong. His eyes followed it with anxiety. Slowly, slowly 1 It lingered a moment on the top of a whitewashed fence. The die was cast. The paper entered Madame Goureaud's garden, wheeled once, twice, fluttered like a brooding dove, nestled softly under the spreading leaves of a great African lily. The poet buried his head in his hauds. Midnight reigned. The moon shone i on two long rows of houses, standing ] back to back. A door opened, and a > young gentle man, with no shirt collar an his neck and a desperate look of daring on his face, came forth. With stealthy steps he advanced to the back fenoe, a portion of which adjoined Madame Goureaud's garden. The clothes line whifch dangled slackly from iron hooks proved a great assistance. He He stood for a second looking down. Cats fled before him uttering fiendish yells. A whiffet in a neighboring garden set up its shrill bark. A window in Monsieur Goureaud's house was opened, the ulintter flung wide, and Monsieur Goureaud ap peared, pistol in hand, and fired. The figure which had reared con- Sicuouelv in the moonlight, dropped. iher windows were flung open. More oats fled. Soon silence Iras restored, and the v solitary adventurer crawled back to the door he had come from, looking fearfully over his shoulder. JCt breakfast Madame Goureaud, ■miling and arrayed in a cream-colored cashmere which well became her bloom ing complexion, poured ont Monsieur Goureaud's chocolate and thanked him sweetly for frightening those dreadful cats. At breakfast, also Madame Gou reand received a note signed by Juvenal Smith, of the next street, and begging the honor of an interview at nine that morning. After breakfast Monsieur Ooureaud departed, with an affectionate embrace. Madame's eyebrows remarked. "Ah ! Monsieur Alphonse, you have removed your hat and walking stick, bat your boote still stand in the closet. Gentlemen do not go to their business in velvet slippers. N'est ee pas ?"- Madame seated herself and thought profoundly. If Monsieur Smith de sired a nearer view of her features, why deprive him of that pleasure ? Alphonse WM not rash, only resolute. There should be no bloodshed. She went to her mirror, rectified a few slight mistakes which nature had made in getting up a remarkably fine woman, placed a full-blown rose in her hair, entered her parlor, posted herself be fore a long mirror in a Violet-velvet chair and summoned her maid. In the next house to Madame Gou reaud's that lady had often observed a young person with a pink and white complexion and yellow brown hair, who, like Madame herself, spent much time in the garden, a nice little thing ! and rather pretty. To this young lady she despatched a message, which was answered in person. "Mv dear,' said she, when they were seated together, "one can't help one's beauty, as you know." The young lady blushed. "And,"continued Madame Goureand, "a very foolish young man has taken a fancy to mine. Monsieur, my husband, is desperately jealous, and my motive in sending for you was to prevent violence." The young lady squealed, "Now, I beg von won't be alarmed, my dear. He'll be her shortly. My husband is concealed in the house, and I wish you to feign, my dear, that the young man is interested in yourself, only for once, my dear child ! Ah 1 He is here !" The door-bell sounded. Juvenal Smith was announced and entered, bowing and blushing. Through the open door of the drawing-room a shadow appeared, so high of shoulders, so prominent of beak, that it re sembled that of a moulting eagle rather than a man. Maflame Goureaud arose, placed a hand affectionately about the young lady's waist and advanced. "My young friend," said she, "know ing how deeply you have long been at tached to each other"—the yonng lady shrugged unbecoming and looked awk ward, as American young ladies do sometimes look in embarrassing situa tions ; Madame Goureaud glanced askance at the mirror and smiled— I "and what barriers society places between young hearts, I have acoeded to the wish of Mr. Smith and offered my home as a trysting place. Doubt j less my Alphonse would have been too happy, but the delicacy of the circum ! stanoes forbade my confiding in him. i Miss Arrowhead, Mr. Smith. You have I had the introduction. The world is I now satisfied." "Madame," said Mr. Smith, placing his hand on his vest and bowing pro fouudly, "you have anticipated my wishes. You have plaoed me under a debt of eternal gratitude. May I be lieve that Miss Arrowhead is—now averse ?" Miss Arrowhead tossed her curls and ! looked mortified, and as if she strongly ! objected to the whole prooeeding- The moulting eagle on the wall developed arms and legs and Monsieur vioureaud entered. ;; "Sir," hissed he, eef as you say, madame my wife, haf lay you under a debt of eternal gratitude, will you ex plain, eef yon please, why it ees zat I ; haf find ziz little paper in my garden ? | Also why you haf enter my premises at midnight ?" Mr. Smith's eyes brightened u he caught sight of the open sheet in Monsieur Goureaud's hand. He gave an involuntary shiver as he glanced at the pistol in Monsieur Goureaud's pocket. He looked imploringly at the ladies who stepped between him and the avenging husband. "My dear sir," said he, "1 shall be happy to explain. It's exceedingly simple I assure you." Madame Goureaud nodded approv ingly- Monsieur Goureaud folded his arms under his coat tails and listened with | his head on one side and a stern and ! penetrating eye fixed on the speaker. Miss Arrowhead pouted and looked aggrieved for some inexplicable reason. "I—r you everybody," said Juvenal Smith,losing his self possession suddenly, "wss young once. I respect, admire, I mean I ardently dote—" Monsieur Ooureaud's hand made a dive toward the pistol. "I mean to say, sir, I have seen Miss Arrowhead walking igjier garden, and often wished to- tJS introduced to her, and—and—you must excuse me for climbing over your fence. "Ah ! sat is what I wish to explain. Why my fence ?" said Monsieur Gou ruract, with. tU« air of an inquisitor. "Because, sir, I was so foolish as to write a few lines expressing my feel i ings for Miss Arrowhead, and—and, 1 didn't wish any one should see them.", "Zat is why you haf hide zem under Madame's flowers," insinuated Mon sieur (ionreand." "I didn't," said Juvenal Smith, developing a sudden and ungentlemanlv rage, and making a movement as if about to throw off his eoat. "The wind blew it there yesteidsy." Madame Ooureand looked her ad miration at the ceiling. Monsieur Oou reand gave a bow aad apologized. Miss Arrowhead blnshed and yielded her hand to Mr. Smith. So ended the threatened encounter. Monsieur Gkrareaud generously ex tended an invitation to the young peo ple to exchange their tender greetings in his drawing room until they had gained the consent of their parents or guardians to meet in a more appropri ate place, and Madame, his wife, pressed 'Miss Arrowhead's hand in gratitude as they departed, while her eloquent eye brows made a note of ade miration at Mr. ftmiti" unexampled finesse. She was not a little astonished by re ceiving shortly after, a pair of wedding cards engraved with the names of Smith and Arrowhead. "But what will a young man do who has been disap pointed ?" said Madame Goureaud, and she often regales her female friends with the story of her last conquest, and how that unfortunate Mr. Smith who married his plain little wife out of pure desperation, assisted her to deceive Alphonse and evade the awful conse quences of his jealousy. Alter the Funeral. J It was just after the funeral. The bereaved and subdued widow enveloped in millinery gloom, was seated in the sitting room with a few sympathizing friends. There was that constrained look, so peculiar to the occasion, ob servable on every countenance. The widow sighed. „» "How do you feel, my dear?" ob served her s;ster. ( "Oh, 1 don't know," observed the poor woman, with difficulty restraining her tears. "But I hope everything passed Off well." "Indeed it did," said all the ladies. "It was as large and respectable a funeral as I have seen this Winter," said the sister, looking around upon the others. "Yes, it was," said the lady from the ' next door. "I was saying to Mrs. Slocum only ten minutes ago that the attendance couldn't have been better— | the bad going considered. "Did you see the Taylors ?" asked ! the widow, faintly, looking at her sister, j "They go so rarely to funerals thaff^ was quite surprised to see them here." "Oh, yes, the Taylors wero all here," said the sympathizing sister. "As you say, they go Dut little ; they are so ex clusive. "I thought I saw the Curtises, also," suggested the bereaved womao, droop iuglj. "Oh, yes," chimed in several. They came in their own carriage, too," said the sister, animatedly. "And then there were the Randalls, and the Tan Rensalears. Mrs. Van Rensalear had her oousin from the city with her. And Mrs. Randall wore a heavy black Bilk, which I am sure was quite new. Did yon see Colonel Haywood and his daughters, love?" "I thought I saw them, but I wasn't sure. They were here, then, were they ?" "Yes, indeed," paid they all again ; j and the lady who lived across the way observed : "The Colonel was very sociable, and inquired most kindly about you, and the sickness of your husband." The widow smiled faintly. She was hy the interest shown by the The friends now arose to go, each bidding her good-bye, and expressing the hope that she would be calm, Her sister bowed them out. When she re turned she said : "You can see, my love, what the neighbors think of it. I wouldn't have had anything unfortunate happen for a good deal. But nothing did. The ar rangements oouldn't have been better. "I think some of the people in the neighborhood must have been surprised to see so many of the up-town people here," suggested the afflicted woman, trying to look hopeful. "You may be quite sure of that ?" asserted the sister. "I could see that plain enough by their looks." "Well, Lam glad there is no occasion for talk," said the widow, smoothing the skirt of her dress. And after that the boys took the chairs home, and the house was put in order. , Norway. In its general aspect Norway presents the most unpromising conformation of surface for farming operations that can well be conceived. Mountain ranges, with plateaus whose altitude precludes cultivation, and from which rise mountains that reach an elevation of 8,300 fpet above the sea, prevail gener ally throughout the country. Except |in the south, the mountain tops are [ covered with snow for the greater part, > if not all the year; their slopes, when ■ not absolutely inaccessible, are far too rocky and abrupt for farming settle ments. The deeper valleys that inter sect these mountain ranges, and which ramify with the contortions of these hills, are channels up which the sea sends its tides; above the level of these fjords are other water-worn valleys, which convey the overflow of the moun tain lakes, subsided by countless streams that in varying volume leap from the hills as waterfalls, or rush foaming down the mountain side—the impervious primitive or metamorphoric rocks that are characteristic of the country not permitting the absorption of the melting snows or the summer's rains. There exists, therefore, a very extensive superficial area that presents physical as well as climatic difficulties of a character not to be surmounted by the most enterprising cultivator. With few exceptions, the homestead of the Norsk farmer is built on the lower slopes of the hills, where, in fact, the wash of the rocky surfaces, in broken stone and siity soil, has accumulated to a sufficient depth for the operation of the plough; or on the embanked level of loamy soil, the deposit left by an cient rivers, or when rich lacustrine alluvium ia met with, or where mo raines are spread out at the embouch ure of glacier grooved and expansive valleys, forming suitable sites of scat tered bamleta.and little farms. No human being can out a pie into six pieces and convince six children that one qf their number hasn't got a trifle too much. Eaoler Floral Decorations. It is customary to decorate the fonts and chancels of some ohnrches on Easter Sunday, as other occasions with I llowers ; and an ignorant fashion re j quires that these flowers should be white. From time immemorial, in all ; countries of the earth, there has been ; a symbolipm of colors, which, espe- I cially in religions ceremonies and dec ! orations has been strictly observed and I practiced. According; to this symbo- I lism, two principles, light and darkness, | produce all oolors. Light is represen i ted by white, and darkness by black ; I but as light is not supposed to exist without fire, red is also used to repre ! sent it, and, on this basis, symbolism ! admits two primitive oolors—red and | white. Red is the symbol of divine i love ; white the symbol of divine wis j dom and uncreated light. Bed, in its various shades, has ever been used as a prevailing color in the vestments of priests, and it so continues in the ltoman Church. Whether from tradi tion or practice the cushions of our pulpits and pews and the covering of the communion tables are of thiß color. In the great mysteries of Blensis a child, always initiated in red, performed a character emblematio of death. Hence he was called the child of the sanctuary ; and, doubtless in reference to this, the acolytes in the churches ap pear in red vestments. The artists of the Middle Ages always gave to Christ, after his resurrection, robes of red and white. Yellow was considered as a of the love and wisdom of Ood, and azure the symbol of divine eternity and of human immortality. From these facts it will appear that if we undertake, on such ocoasions to em blemize, we should doit with studious care, lest we find ourselves in the com mittal of an archronism. In placing ilowers on the communion table or in the font, on such festivals, we should not be limited to white alone, but make use of such oolors as symbolize the ideas we wish to express. As those who use flowers for suoh purposes be lieve in the divinity of Christ, the pre vailing oolors should be red, white, yellow and azure :—Ked, as indicating His divine love; white as indicating His divine wisdom and emanation from the Father ; yellow, as a revelation of j His love in dying for us ; and azure, as i emblematio of His immortality and ; divine eternity. Perhaps also in this selection of the | three primeval colors, red, blue and i yellow, as symbolizing the attitudes of j the Deity, there may have been a dis j tant reference to the Trinity, or to the rainbow, as a token of the Creator's ; pledge not again to destroy mankind I "J- Um nwbuw bainff [ referred to as a visible pledge of his j loving kindness to men. The customs in symbolizing which prevail in the Christian Church, all had their origin i in ages long anterior to its institution. They were derived from traditions , which came down from the priests and learned men of Egypt and other East ern countries, by whom they were used to oonvey ideas, and to prodnoe emo tions in worshippers which their lack of education prevented them from un derstanding if presented in any other way. Hence a symbol of the rainbow may have been presented by the nse of the three primary colors in the service of the temples. In any event the use of these colors, in such services, dates back to the remotest ages. Dlapoaltlon or the liaud*. A terrible epoch occurs in the HTM of most created beings, daring whiuh their hands are a burden to them—and always in the way. This epoch oat lived, and the hands tell their own story of good or ill breeding. One of the most common signs of want of breeding, is this unoomfortable con sciousness of the hands, an abvious ignorance of what to dp with them, and a painful awkwardness in their adjust ment. The hands of a gentleman seem perfectly at home without being oc cupied ; thej are habituated to the dolce for niente, or if they spontane ously more, it is attractively. Some of Qaeen Elizabeth's courtiers made play ing with their sword-hilt an aceomplian ment, and the most efficient weapon of the Spanish coquette is her fan. Strength in the fingers is a sure token iof mental aptitude. When Mutius burnt his hand off before the eyes of his captor, he ga ye the most indubita ble proof we can imagine of fortitude ; and it was natural that amid the fero cious bravery of feudal times, a bloody hand in the center of an escutcheon should become the badge of a baronet of England. A Mew Toole. A new tomo, called boldo, has been discovered. Boldo is a tree found in Obili, of I height of five or six feet, isolated on mountainous regions, with yellow blossoms and verdant foliage. Its bark, leaves and bloaaoma posse— a marked aromatic odor, resembling a mixture of turpentine and oampbor. The leaves contain largely an essential oiL It contains an alkaloid which is already called "boldine," Its proper ties are chiefly as a stimulant to diges tion, and having a marked action on the liver. Its action was discovered rather accidentally, thifcfc.: Some sheep, which are liver-diseased; were confined in an enclosure which happened to have been recently repaired with boldo twigs. The animals ate the leaves and shoots, and were observed to recover speedily. Direct observations proved its action, thus : One gramme of the tincture ex cites appetite, increases the circulation, and produces symptoms of circulatory excitement, and acts on the urine, which gives out the peculiar odor of boldo. TABICTIW. Domestic "sauce" is kept in family jars. . y ~ „ ... - Bleep-walking is supposed to be in some way connected with the trance-mi gration of souls. A na'nral interruption : Sunday school teacher—"What do you under stand by suffering for righteousness sake ?" Boy (promptly)—"Practisin* hymns into the morning, teacher, and Sunday-school in the afternoon, and Bible class in the evenin.' " The population of Jfari», numbering about 1,800,000 is said to consume * about 46 000,000 gallons of * wine, nearly 2,000,000 gallons of alchohol and alcoholic liquors, 500,000 gallons of cider, and 6,800,000 gallons of beer— some twenty-eight gallons of wine, beer and spirits a year for each of the inhab itants, including women and children. Professor Dor, in Berne, has recently again oalled attention to the constantly increasing rate of short-sightedness among school children, ranging in the higher class now from fifty to sixty per cent. - Causes of this are said to be ; Arrangements and wall color of school" rooms ; the too small type nsed in text books; the nse of white paper for school books in place of some more grateful tint to the eyes; finally, the bad gas-light which children are com pelled to study by. Dr. Wilkes, in his recent work on phwtiolgy, remarks that ••it is estima ted that the bones of every adult per son require to be fed with lime enough to make a marble mantle every eight months." It will be perceived, there fore, that in the oourse of about ten years eaoh of ns eats three or fonr mantle pieces and a few sets of front door steps. And in a long life I sup pose it is fair to estimate that a healthy li ' American could devour the eapitol at Washington, and perhaps two or three medium-size marble quarries besides. It iB awful to think of the oonsequenoes if a man.should be shut off from his supply of lime for a while and then should get loose in a cemetery. An ordinary tombstone would hardly be enough for a lnnch for him. The Silgo River, Ireland is one of the very few whioh opens on the first day of the new year, and immediately after the clook struck 12 the nets were at work notwithstanding the inclement weather. Few men recollect more bit ter weather than that on the night of the old and the morning of the new year ; and the wonder was that a single fish would remain in the oold river, but run to the comparatively mnoh warmer water of the'ooean, the usual resort of ' Minion under such circumstances. Notwithstanding, however, the in clement state of the weather and sheets of loe floating down the river, 11 sal mon and several large trout, all in the finest condition were captured. Had the weather proved favorable, it is ' thought that a much larger oapture would have been made. The Savannah Advertiser says that after Sherman made his maroh to the sea, all in the wide track of waste and desolation that he made the tramp of hia footman and the iron feet of hia cavalary there sprung np a sew and unknown grass from the soil, which the - farmers called the "Sherman clover." It would .grow up in the moat unex pected places, and it ia aaid would root out Bermuda grass ; and, aa a atrange similarity, we now hear that after the Franoo- Prussian war of 1870-71, in many districts of Franoe a new vegeta tion sprang np, evidently the result of the invasion. It was believed that this vegetation would beoome acclima tized, but very few species in troduced in this way appear likely to continue to flourish. In the Depart ments of Loir and Loir-et-Gher, of one hundred and sixty-three Oerman spe cies, at least one-naif have already dis appeared, and the surviving species diminish in vigor each year. Soaroely five or six species appear to manifest any tendency to beoojM acclimatised. Can any of our naturalists aooount for it? It is found by observation that the effeot of "training," or the persistent use of gymnastic exercises, is to en large the heart and lungs both in size and capacity. Archibald Mo Glaren, Superintendent of the Oxford gymna sium, and author of "Physical Educa tion," says : "One of the army officers, sent to me to be instructed in gymnas tics gained five inches in girth around the ohest in less than three months." That this growth is not explained by the mere enlargement of, the pectoral muscles is proved by 'lb* increased volume of air which the lungs are en abled to expire, as is demonstrated by the spirometer, and post mortem* abundantly show an increased capacity as well as rise in the heart and large blood vessels. The increase both in length and breadth, fpfspincthe ribs outward sad the diaphragm down ward. It is for thia reason that athtotea and gymnasts enabled * to make prolonged and violent exertions without getting out of wind. The ca pacity of the heart and central arteries being enlarged, they oan accommodate more blood. Their contractive power being increased by this new demand upon them, they are enabled to send on the current through the lungs with increased velocity, and thus by- their greater capacity are able to oxygeniae the blood as fast * it is supplied to them, and so no congestion takes place and no iaoaaveaieaee ia felt. The 4 normal capacity of the lungs of an adult male is about two hundred cubic Inches. It is computed that an en largement or three inChea around the chest gives an insreaae of fifty cubic inches of lung capacity. NO. 9.

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