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-
n
. -5 t ' . . ' - ' J
Ht blnTa pt,wlth toUm kite,
! iitttDC m my knot,
Aonw back, Wyood Om bu,
WM folia tb rattw M.
SfftSSrf ? i I
To to
twek ily. . . . f SI U 1
If F hMtt Is Mr mtct;
And, Hi took opoa tb sbors, -WsiliMidloatttiUnltfsl
ri
jWlsAhtoBsTM'tor.";'1
' It tmsks npen ths bot i J a
0( dno, with s nstaUtM might. w . .
Ana, tocd tn fosi is gw iu uku
DKS-AsfStUB!
And. tB siOBf
lull mil wrtck doU Hl -
Tb pasgs of mssy sjasd euoass,
l.t,wbflsIpwsim()rtBk,t j,,
Asa sm upon the ses.
My blayd !. with oM hslr,
Whqss heirt hss nsrnr ksown cars, ,
Wools TOiss is mnm hiv
sun si ijsair
Hsr hesd Is I
Her syes in slambsr dssp:
Tbs suns xjonfTh ses, whose bresksn rosr
And Bsaly, ni sly task ths boots,
HMhUlsdajFsailtoslssp., '
THE FLOWER GIRL.
, BT UIKNIt BOLBEOOt.
"MilEcenE, MlIliceDt, wliere ia sup
per?' '
" God only knowi, cliild."
There she eat staring into the little
fire on Trliich their. last atom of wood
was burning, and seeing in the red ashes
into which the light wood dropped bo
quickly, pictures of the past. Tnqy had
never been rfch' people, but always 00.. 1
ortablet -
Her father was a seafaring man frr-1
mate of an ocean vessel ana her mother
a tidy housewife, who made everything
"bright and cozy. How he used to sit
telling his adventures to them when he
was at home.
He would not have been a sailor had
there not been sea-serpents and mermaids
in them, but nothing was wonderful for
those loving folk at home to credit; and
indeed he probably believed them him
: self. '
The rooms had been pretty with shells
and coral branches, aud bright parrots
in swinging cages and pictures of ships
upon the wall.
It had been "so different from this'
wretched place in which the two girls
now lived.
That was not aH ; tlia love was gone,
the tender care that parents have for
their children.
The niother lay in her green grave in
a far-off cemetery; and who. can point
the placo of a shipwrecked sailor's
grave? , '
Sbafreiiiembered so well how he sailed
nway th::t last time how she looked
after him, her mother and herself how
they wai ted for news, and waited in vain,
until at last there came, to them a sailor,
saved from rlie wreck of the " Frying
Scud," who told how Bhe went down in
- mid-seas at the dead of the night, ablaze j
from ore end to ihe other; and how I
Roger I'.iair, the first mate, was among ;
the missing. 1
After that, poverty and sorrow; de
parture from that dear old home; toil
' and a strange city, sickness, friendless-j
ness, and the crowning woe of all, the
mother' death.
Tho pirl had done her best for her
little sistiT ever since, but she was not a
very skillful needlewoman, and could
not eajii as much as some others; and
now work h:id given out altogether, and
she, pretty and sweet and good, and help
ful in a daughterly way about the house,
was not iiile sure that she could win
bread fur two in any way-bread and
shelter and lire.
She 'was only seventeen, and. a Irail
little creature, with vfcry little strength
in her'siiiall body, and now that matters
were hi bad, who can, wondei, that she
almost despaired? '; , ,;-' f
''I suppose iiisn't qttttcrjMtppet . -time
ycl an ill little Jane again.
"WhAr sTfalTT "dor said "Millicent to
herself, ; s shj looked about the room.
"I have sold everything rtkc clock, the .
boots, even mother's work-box and the.
parrot, iliieoe , is ' nothing, left. The
child wflf stryo before morniDi., s0h
what shftttl tor '
She arosn and went to. the window,
aud looked down into the street, t It wns
dirty ami narrow, and swarmed with,
filthy childien. . . -.,
"Opposite was a little drinking shop;'
about whirh a blind man with a fiddle
drew a profitless audience.
Notliing sweet, or fresh, or pure met
her ye there butbetween that scene and
herself a sndden breeze blew a beautiful
screen, and there was wafted to her
through the broken glass an exquisite
perfume.
On the sill without stood a, rose in a
broken tea-pot; '.
She hud pickod-up the slip among the
rubbish cast . out by a neighboring
prdener, and it had grown well in its
nnnd ful of earth. . " '" .
To-day it hud bloomedT; perfect rose,
exquisite in shape, perfume and color,
droe(l from one stem, and beside it a
half-Mown hnd gave promise of another
flower :i lovely.
I "nt i 1 this iliomcnt Millicent, in her
anxiety, had .forgotten her one treasure.
I'.ut for a gentle shower; that had fallen
that iiioruiii2 it mielit have withered
when1 it stood, for" she had not even
watered it f Now a bright thought
flitted throuch her mind. She had often
seen children sclling'flowere in the street,
ami ladies and gentlemen seemed glad to
buy them. She would force herself to
be courageous. She would go out into
the street with this rose and its bud, and
some one would give her enough to buy
a loaf of bread, or at least a roll for little
Jane.
She wolild" do ii she would.'
She tied nn-'her hood and rapped her
shawl about .her,, and plucking the
flower ami a leaf er two, and thatboght
bud, that seemed perhaps the fairer of
inn two. bade Jane be cood and wait for
her. and went down stairs and out from
thn Hincv cross street into Broadwav.
There every one save herself seemed
gay and happy, and well dressed.
She seemed to be A -thing apart a
Wank blot in all this bnehtness.
She stood at a corner and "held wither
flowers, but it seemd that no one needed
her. - . .
A t last slie gathered oonrage to : touch
nf the ladies that passed, and say:
" Iiuv a rose, lady buy a rose! Please
Vinv a rose."
flat the woman hurried by as the rest
Ai.i Tt would, not -do to suna stiu.
She walked on, slowly. , Whenever she
caughtF I'leaaan eye, ihe held euther
tiny bouquet anorrepeawKi ncryrajor;.
"Buyarosel buyaroeeP' ,
caj me u wU setUnir, and ibe was
pwtae desperate. Some one ; hbuW
""J -w-oeei JjOOk at rtr R
jkariined by h,ng,r and oiriw.
Yon don' lookit or von'd bnv."
'Theaoreefcbeggani itouldiear
presstdjMid a rtout man she had ad
dressed,, Younz woman, Til rive "yon
in charge IT xdn donl behave yourself. "
' ,"H doir.Hknoirr he don't know
aid ftfJUlceiits-to kerseH.'" "Nobody
could gness how poor-we are. OS, what
a hard; tard world 1" ; ',1 ,
Thensht went on, not daring to speak
lgairr, and, her rose drooped a little in
her fingers, and still no one seemed dis
posed to bur ft. - .
fnrtherhan she knew (She waslar
down Broadway, and before her was
Bowling" GTen, with its newly-trimmed
grass plot and its silvery fountain.
A little further on the Battery, newly
restored to its pristine glory, and on its
benches some blue-bloused emigrants,
with round, Dutch faces, and their bare
headed wives with'woolen petticoats and
little shawls crossed over their bosoms
and knotted at their waist.
As they stared about them, it struck
the girl that they, fresh from the sea,
might be tempted by the fresh, sweet
rose she held in.her hand, to spend a few
pennies; but when she offered it to them,
she saw they were more prudent.
. They only shook their heads solemnly,
and looked away from her.
And this last hope gone, despair seized
upon Millicent. She sank down upon a
bench and began to weep bitterly. The
twilight -Was deepening. She was far
Hum uume ana uiue jane, blie was
faint with weariness and hunger, be
yond the present moment all seemed an
utter blank to her. the covered her
lace with her hands; the rose dropped
iruumer lap unneeaea. ane cared for
it no more. Fate was against her, that
no -one would even buy a beautiful
flower like that from her.
..There were steps. She heeded them
not. There were voices. It mattered
not to her. Suddenly some one said :
"What a beautiful rose!"
And the words caught her ear. She
looked up. Three or four seafarinir men.
with bundles in their hands, were pass
ing Dy, iresn jrom tne ocean evidently,
embrowned with the sun and wind, and
were always generatta., uie j&f thlse
would fray the flower, . She held tt out.
"liny: it, . pleT" she whispered,
faintly.
"Please buy thiSlosc?"
"1 m glad to get it," said a stont
elderly man stepping forward. "What's
the price, my lass? Will-Uiai do?'
He tossed three or fourfdreign-looking
silver pieces into5 her lap, andr took the
flower. Then looking at ner very closely,
ne spoke again:
"What's the trouble, lassf Don't be
afraid to tell maJt X had iittlegtrUtf
my own once, tone s dead now. lell
me, can I help you?"'
Millicent looked up. The man's face
was half bidden by his hat, and he was
stouter and grayer than her father had
been, but she fancied a likeness.
"You have helped me, sir," she said,
by buying the rose, lhank you very
much. My father was a sailor too; and
he was ship-wrecked."
"it s a sailors late, said the man.
"It's time you was getting home, lass.
This city is no place for a young cirl to
be out in after night. But just wait. A
sailor's orphan has a claim on a sailor.
and my poor little Millicent would have
been about your ape if she had lived.
"Millicent!" creamed the pirl. "Oh,
mv name is Millisrent. I m frightened
I don't know what 'to think. You look
f like him you. I'm Millicent Blair. Mv
lather was Koger illair. Is it a dream I
It can't be true. It ea'ii't be father
But the next instant lie had her in his
arms, and she knew that the sea had
riven him back to lier.
Wrecked with the vessel, but not lost.
He had been cast upon a desert island,
whence he escaped, after three weary
years, only to una uis little home empty,
I ne widow had leit her little cottage
to earn ner living in tne city, ana news
of her death had been brought back to
old liome by some one who had been in
New York when she died, and who had
either heard or imagined that her chil
dren were dead also.
And the news was told to Eorrer Blair
by kindly people who believed it thor
oughly, and had borne it as best he could
aha hnd sailed the tftia agaiu, a wearv
heart-broken man,
He had not found all his treasures, bu t
that some were spared was more than he
had, evef hoped; and -the meeting be
tween lather and daughter was like that
between two arisen trom the dead.
And so the rose bush bad done more
for Millicent than she could have
dreamt; and to this day it is the most
cherished treasure in the little home
where the old man lives with his two
daughters; and when once a month, its
blossoms nil the air with their lragrance
they crowd about it as about the shrine
of aome sainted thing, and whisper:
'lint lor this we should still be
parted." '
,, l.apse or Jnemory.
Two very rich Maryland planters,
brothers, died about a quarter of a cen
tury ago, one ' of them a baehqior,
while' the other left several children,
supposed to be illegitimate. These lat
ter inherited their father's estate by the
terms of his will, and on the death of
their bachelor uncle claimed h U property
also, as being heirs , at irv of a man
dying intestate.- There rlahn wai dis
puted by a cousin 01 the o.-.-eased, who
himself insisted upon being recognized
as nearest of kin, on, the ground that
the other claimants were illegitimate.
These lattor proved 'their Iecitimacv af
ter a long legal struggle, by finding in
Europe the priest who performed the
marriage ceremony for their pareuts.
.They therefore obtained possession of
their uncle's estate, but not until they
had reduced themselves to poverty by a.
series of contests that ended only in
the highest court 01 the land, many v
the leading lawyers of the Nation haof
ing taken prominent part in the strug
gle. The bachelor brother, instead ot
dying intestate, made a will in favor of
v 1 t L. . 1 j .1
tne cousin wnu iuugui, so imro. tne sup-
Ca heirs at law, ana leit it with a
ihington lawyerj who went South at
the beginning of the war, leaving' with
his office boy a -box of papers to be de
livered' to the person addressed in case
of the non-return of the attorney, and
the boy probably forgot A short time
ago the younstcr, having presumably
ouie to man's estate, recovered his
memory, and the will, the existence of
which- had been unknown, was sent to
the cousin's lawyer, and the case it
again to go before the Supreme Court
1 : J.. 1 . ..... : : : 1 - - 1 - - ' ,
to By
.Jood-nlcht onto ths frtetle hi
A AU-qwnly with its weight of ring! j
uooo-mgnt to lood opmted srs,
Gosfratsjft to chsstoat bsslss of ash
Aosd-nigbt wto-tfc ssriestaoath, .
Awi sS ths iweetBesi oestlsi thrs
'. . Tbssaowr-hmiiadetiirams, then '
I'll hsiwts sty good-sight sgsisU
BrfaUwMlcfei'stlmBTloTST
When, if I resd your stsn srlght,
I ihaB not llnsw by ths porch
.With my-sdisas, ,XB1 tbsboad-Bjgfc
Ton wish ths Urns wsrs sow 7 And I.
Toads net Mssn-to-wishttdrr
Too wsaldliTs)tsasd7SBlself to ds .
o own so mach, Ajrssi co 1 ' '
Whstf both theM tnowy hsndsf Ah, thsa,
I'll H to At snml-nlem Muhif
' ! .1 THKstAR MILI&.i ds.'
- 1 -Vt ii V ' s -1 'Ttti iq is.i t .
nsks
EZtS7f!tt??rZJ
''"ftiHis-CaMutBUa.f " ' '''-I
In writing recentlv of the resnrts nf
the experiment of the proprietors of the
model little yarn mill at Westminister
8. C, we were led into making some ap
proximate comparisons of the amount ol
money tnat would be saved to the
planters and to the South, if each
neighborhood worked its cotton into
yarn before sending it to market In
thevery nature of things, the figures we
used could be only approximately correct,
but they were based upon the results of
the Westminster yarn factory, which are
undeniably correct,. Thus, for instance,
the yarns are spun frem the seed cotton.
This fact, which, is a fact, annihilates
the cost of cotton-gin. packintr. screws.
bagging and ties. Annihilates, did we
say 1 un tne contrary, tije cost the ex-pense-of
. keeping the tins in order and
of employing labor to run them, the cost
ot bagging and ties is in a moment
turned into ready cash, which the farmer
retains in his pocket. This is the first
and immediate result of the new process.
Let us, in this connection, present some
more figures that are at least approxi
mately correct. At the very lowest
estimate, the services of one hundred
thousand gins are required to aid in pre
paring a crop of 5,000,000 bales of cotton
in market We will assume, therefore, that
there are 100,000 ein-houses in the South.
and tliat these . gin-houses are worth
$750 each. Some are worth more and
some less, but we will roughlv estimate
their worth at $750, which makes the
value of the Southern gin-houses $75,
000,000. How often does this property
have to be renewed. We can give no
figures here, but it is sufficient to say
that from the 1st of September, 1874, to
the. 1st of September, 1875, the news
papers of Georgia chronicled the burn
ings of 146 (fin-houses. The chronicle
was kept by two papers, the Columbus
inquirer ana the Savannah Jsewt, and the
first made the number 146 and the latter
136 if we remember correctly. Add to
this those that were never reported to the
newspapers and we have 13b gm-housea
burned in Georgia in one year. From
February, 1872, to September. 1873. ac
cording to . a tolerably careful list kept
by one of the editors of the Savannah
News, there were 157 gin-houses destroyed
iff XVeoreia by tire. This is a terrible
record, but every succeeding year has
added to the list, and scarcely a day
passes that our exchanges do not chronicle
the destruction 01 one or more gin-houses.
It must be obvious, therefore, that to
any estimate of the value of the 100,000
gin-houses in the South must be added
the cost ot renewing them more frequent
ly than any other species of property,
Thismay be called the risk, and amounts
to a considerable per cent 01 the 7o,
000.,000, though how much we shall not
undertake to say. Another fact to be
taken into consideration is that this
property is in use on an average only
one month et tne twelve wnicn is
equivalent to paying a year's interest on
a sum of money for the privilege of
using it one month.
The thoughtful reader can make
estimate fitted to bis information. AVe
have merely given the cue; but any
estimate must show a terrible array of
figures to offset the profits of the cotton
crop, and the waste is worse than the
drain. Just here the Westminster pro
cess steps in between the planter and
his crin-houses. and by abolishing the
Tatter and rendering their renewal use
less, puts seventy-hve millions m the
empty pockets of the South. But this
is not all. At a low estimate it costs
the planter $1.50 to prepare his bale of
cotton for market after it is ginned in
dress it in an appropriate suit of bagging
and bind it with ties, Let us say, then,
that the bagging and ties of a rop of
5,000,000 bales costs the South $5,250,
000 in cash or its equivalent1 In the
present condition of things it is a cost
that is absolute and inevitable, and to
annihilate it is to add the sum it repres
ents to the profits of the cotton crop.
This, accordirg to the testimony of eye
witnesses, is what the Westminster mill
does. The cotton is taken from the
baskets as it comes from the field and
converted into marketable yams, far
more valuable for all purposes of trade
and commerce than the cotton that baa
been pinned, baled and compressed. At
a roiiurh estimated. 100 per cent, has
been added to the price it will fetch the
farmer: so that with all the cost of gin-
houses out of the way, the . vast cost of
bagging and ties, the loss 'in sampling
and Itealage, the cost 01 weighing and
storaee. and the thousand and one com-
missions annihilated, the farmer has his
cotton in the shape of yarns, and, leav
ing out of sight all Jhe saving in the
costs that are done away with, it is
worth 100 per cent more than the cot
ton;:that is prepared for market in the
old way. i
We, must confess that we' are inclined
to be enthusiastic in regard to this new
process. There can be no sort of mistake
as to what it accomplishes and we be
lieve it is a solution of a problem that
has long vexed the. South. In our
opinion it revolutionizes the prospects of
this section and opens np to us a future
if unexampled prosperity. Are we too
sanguine? This depends upon whether
the Westminster mil ' can accomplish
these results with which it has been
credited by tho who have seen it. We
have been told that some prominent
manufacturers, after looking at the ma
chinery of the mill, have doubted the
accuracy of the reports that led them
(hither. But they were deceived by the
vcrv duality which rives the mill its
value namelv, its simplicity. Used to
ponderous machinery, tiiev could not
conceive how such simplicity could pto-
1 duce such wonderful results, but they
. . : 1 n.
were convinced alter witnessing the
operations of the n;
Howbeit; no one need make a mistake
in this matter. The Wesvninster mill
and others "of the same kind are all easy
of access. 2so one who has any thought
of investing cau go astray or be misled
by -anything that may be said by en-
thusiastic newspapers. The process is
open. to inspection. We look forward to
the day when the bulk of the Southern
cotton crop will be turned into yarns on
the plantations or in the farming neigh
Oorhoods when every settlement ii
plantera shall 4w ' traaaformed tnto'
manufacturing town, with tta efcurehea
and its irhonlii isibtts, nIB iVulii will be
as rich, and- a powerfnl comraerrasllv
and lnteliectuallv aa tho Aorta and tae.
I East -whefl her thrift shall be as wide
spread and her industries as sameKma
as thoseof --Eriglaiid Csrptal to"
always on Uie alert, si it will need bo
lormai invitation to ine in these yarn
mills if the" facts' are as represented.
1 process is that it is inexpensive enough
to allow onr trim people to invest U'the
necessB toaehmerfr-and jri every
borhood the-sBi4llstJanmra.aB, by co
operating wit eaoh. other, set one of
these little factories in Profitable motion.
I Ffom everyf6fttt M "vierUSe matfeHs
weu wormy me senous attenaon 01 tne 1
frtr8 8WR
-Tire California rant
ranchmenhave wonder
fnl aptitude for driving, and one "see
some pretty good examples among we
bills. The road down the mountain
rides is entirely unguarded upon the
outer edge, and the descent in ,nost
places is precipitous. A balky horse,. or
a fractured wheel, or a silent careless-'
ness in handling the reins, might easily'
send a carriage-load of people to deatruc;
tion and an . awful destruction, too.
The path is wide enough for one' pair ot
wheels only, but at intervals, in favoii
able places, it" broadens so that teams
may pass each other. To drke-ia-such
a manner as not to meet another traveler
midway between these places is a special
branch of the art The huge lumber
teams which carry wood from the mills
in the mountains to the yards in the
valleys, being unwieldly and very heavy,
are especially hard to manage. 'Yet the
drivers always seem easy and nonchalant
First there is a large four-wheeled oaken
truck, with a seat in front ten feet above
the ground; behind it is another truck,
something shorter, "but still" enormously
stout. These are fastened together, and
loaded with from ten to fifteen tons- of
freshly-sawn lumber boards and joists.
This mass is drawn by six or eight mules
or horses, guided ,by reins and a pro
digiously long whip. The'first wagon
has a powerful bfakflj wfte"bTlong
iron lever by the driver upon his seat.
The driver is a man of nerve and cour
age. His skill must be of the highest
order. It will not do for him to take
fright, even if in imminent danger, and
he must know to a hair's breadth where
he can go and where he cannot Tower
ing up far above the road, overlooking
the most stupendous depths, and guiding
with a few slender lines a tremendous
force, he must needs be an adept and a
tireless one. But a beholder, ignorant
of the danger that constantly surrounds
him, would say his work was simple, and
that he managed matters with ease.
True, he seems so. With his broad'
brimmed ' hat shading his Bun-burned
face, his sinewy hands holding the reins
with carelessness, his legs outstretched,
with one foot feeling the all-important
brake, lie jogs onward with his monster
charge without trouble or concern ; the
bells mpoa. the.. -hp inns' breasts jiuola.
little tune; the great wheels crush the
stones in the path ; the load creaks like
a ship's hull in a sudden gust; wild birds
sweep down into the hazy, sunny depths
below; yet the driver seems to take no
heed. But let a " scare" take place; let
a herd of runaway cattle appear at a
bend Jtnd set the horses wild, and then
see. what will happen. Ihe day-dreamer
will become a giant of strength ; he is up
in a flash ; be shortens his hold upon (he
reins, and teeling his wagon start np
beneath him, places a foot of iron on the
brake. Ihe horses snort and rear and
surge; the harnesses rattle, the dust
arises, the load shrieks again, and. the
huge wheels turn fatally faster and
faster. An instant may hurl the wagon
down into the valley with its struggling
train a mau rusu to me umer siuo 01
the way may end all in one horrible
plunge. Muscle, eye, brain, skill are
then brought to work so splendidly
together that the peril is averted, and
the looker-on, who knows not the ways
of the land, regards the teamster with
profound respect thereafter.
A Little Plain Talk.
A reporter, under the nom dep'umt of
Elie Adams." in the New York Marrury,
relates the following plain side of news
paper life, of which the public generally
are so entirely ignorant. It illustrates
fully how bigoted, deceitful and cgc-
tistical are tne true cnaiact rs o. 'i' " y
men who, all their lives, aj pear to the
world around them as sometning U.tle
less than angels:
During the last ten years 1 have had
considerable private exi'cr'ence with
clergymen. My position ns a journalist
has given me opportunitie . i.ot vouch
safed to the general public. And I
must confess very frankly th:.t in a ma
jority of cases 1 have been greatly dis
appointed in them, or rather I should
say that 1 was, until 1 came to thor
oughly understand them as a class. Now
I would not for several worlds be misun
derstood on this subject. I do not make
sweeping assertions, nor do I make any
assertions without abundant proof. For
the benefit of the reader 1 will narrate a
few episodes in my own experience, and
he .can draw his own conclusions. At
the start I want to remark that we ex
pect advance agents, showmen, mer
chants etc., to "request flattering sen
tences in type; nothing is mote natuial
than such desires on their part, for they
deal strictlv in earthly thin-s, mal.'u:g
no pretensions in their prolession r
business to lay np treasures in heaven.
But ministers are assigned quite a differ
ent position by the great public.
W hile on the leading paper in ,
I frequently saw communications which
came to the office of that journal from
one of the most prominent clergymen rf
that city. They were invariably in his
own handwriting, which I knew well,
and were intended for the localcolumrs,
giving reports of various services held at
his church. They always spoke of him
as the eloquent Eev. Dr. , and the
way he used complimentary language in
regard to his particular labors for the
meek and lowly Savior was certainly
bewildering, to say the. least This min
ister was one of .UiaJbest known of di
vines in that city, and was considered by
the general public as a very good man.
He is dead now, and I trust is where he
has acquired eaqte modesty. We used to
erase all of his flowery language about
himself and then print his efforts.
On one occasion, after delivering a
most , telling and affecting speech at a
temperance meeting in Philadelphia, a
leadiag minister of that city came to
the table at which I am writing, and in
quired if I represented a certain news-
t paper. L pon receiving an amrmauie
' replv, he at once asked me for a compli
I mentary notice. I was naturally dis
pusted. and I exclaimed: "Mr. , did
1 you come here to make those people,'.
I pointing to the audience, "better? to do
j good to humanity, as one might infer
I trom your address, or did you come to
I get a fittle cheap newspaper notoriety ?'
I He left
H ITtE TEUEllriai TIIi.
ur a.
1
; aedmg to Dr. Wflhelaa rochmoele.
wheat i Tolamiaona .treatiaa, ..entitled
."Maklbbiotik and Knbsni V twnaewntifie
j?24a,or the prolongation and em-1
ftem subjected -oBewhat severe criti-
uiuauineni or nnman iifo " Ma Twwitlt
iirveetigatien ioi at least cots
fi eentarieshas adteagth.' been, discov-
k?!0T fentteriaa whose university
dipbmas demonstrate' him tt rwx Aanallv
a toe In philosophy and medidfler
uro, moseer; is a tuiirfciown tan-.
01 aataotoryv ana. tiananwv-.
tt if ft jnetaja ouadratare pthe. etrcle
ywfcerrjefcufcir motion still remain utt-
wr& myteraVproB
rtfon to, therm .but the Elixir oi life
rvnmnpift nss nni vc uiraM nis SfCHn-
stands revealed to us by his patient and
laborious researches into the arcana of
nature. This precious liquor, giffed
with the inestimable faculty of pro
tracting existence for an uiennite term
the panacea for the greatest of those ills
that flesh is Ktetf 'to, death is no cun
ning distillation of weird and costly
drugs, no essence of the dreadful broth
brewed by witches from such grisly
"stock" as juice of toad and 01P of
adder. It is a fluid with which all are
familiar, chiefly in convivial association
with hot water, sugar and a more or less
copious modicum ot alcohol, isicnuea
with, these materials, humanity has
hitherto gratefully acknowledged ita
genial and exhilarating qualities, little
dreaming that infinitesimal doses of im
mortality were floating perdua among
the aromatic contents ot tne puncn
bowl. It was reserved .to Dr. Schmoele
to gladden the world with the disclosure
that lemon-inice is the elixir vita. To
rival the patriarchs in number of years,
to blunt the edge of death's sickle in
such sort that it shall not avail to sever
the slenderest of life-threads, all that
the aspirant to immoderate lopgovity
has to do is to absorb a sufficient quan
tity of lemon-iuice- daily; or, better
still, to eat a fixed number of lemons,
having relation to his or her age or sex,
every morning and evening. Dr. Schmo
ele's work contains the most elaborate
and exhaustive rules for the practice of
the lemon-treatment which may be com
menced with equal certainty ot ulterior
success at any time of life. The Pro
fessor also adduces several instances of
the efficacy with which the consumption
of lemons stimulates aged persons to
evade the assaults of the phantom on the
pale horse. He is as yet unable to men
tion any case in which the imbibition of
lemon-juice has enabled an authentic
human being to live forever; but ho. con
fidently hopes, in future ages far remote,
to supply posterity with an illustration
in his own person, of his theory that
" He who will only eat lemons enough
need never die." Failing a living ex
ampjiy indisputable immortality, such
as wwi t carry conviction to the soul of
fes ijaf buU,d skeptic, Di. Scnmocle '
directs our attention to the celebrated
painter, Count Waldeck, who died in
Faris a short time ago, at the somewhat
advanced age of 120 years. The Pro
fessor seems to fancy that this tough
artist proves the correctness of the above
quoted theory, because Count Waldeck
was in the habit, every springtide, of
devouring huge quantities of horserad
ish soaked in lemon-juice. " It was not
the horseradish," says Dr. Schmoele,
" but the lemon-juice, that prolonged
his life for so many years." But we have
only the Professor s word for the truth
of this postulate. It may be that tho
vehement pungency of the horseradish
kept Count Waldeck's vital spark aglow
for such an inordinate length of time,
and that the secret of immortality lurks
within that fiery root. Besides, the
Count died after all, so that lemon-juice,
or horseradish, or both combined, only
enabled him to stiy off the evil day for
a period of time, which, considered :n
relation to eternity, can not but be ac
counted as brief and unimportant.
" Makrobiotick and Eubanik," which
work, we should mention, has been pub
lished by the printing-office of Bonn
University, whereby it is invested with
a somewhat authoritative character,
teaches us what we are to do, in the way
of swallowing lemon-iuice, in order to
attain an age to which that of Methuscr
lah was, so to speak, mere immature adoles
cence. To ladies over forty and under
fifty andsixty, commencing the eitronian
system, he prescribes two lemons per
diem, while gentlemen between tho.-;
a?es must " assimilate " at least three
lemons daily. Between fifty and sixty
the dose for ladies is set down at three
for gentlemen at four, lemons a day.
One lemon more per diem is ordained to
each sex for every additional decade, so
that centenarians must consume, if wo
men, their eight lemons daily if men,
no fewer than nine. Upon attaining
h 13 hundred and twentieth year, there
fore, like Count Waldeck, the gentleman
who should at that period experience the
desire further to prolong hts existence,
would find himself face to face with the
terrible prospect of having to swallow
4,015 lemons per annum for ten success-
Ujv8 mart, if he wished to live so long.
remaps a decaaeot me wouia oe neia
dear by the majority of centenarians, if
it had to be purchased by the degluti
tion of JoMi lemons. The mere notion
of so sour a diet is enough to suggest to
those of a sweet tooth "surcease of
sorrow" " liy the friendly aid of the dag
gnr or tlw bowl. It is scarcely iiossible
to even thins of eating forty thousand
lemons without a shudder and a convul
sive contortion of the facial muscles.
What would life be worth, even to the
" heir of all the ages," if saddled to the
chrouic stomach-ache that, one would
think, must accrue to the wight con
demned to imbibe" the juice of a dozen
lemons daily? The " dura ilia metsorum"
themselves could not cope with the per
turbation that such a dose of natural
acid would set up within their precincts.
Dr. Schmoele's nostrum is, however, such
as has been stated, and immortality, ac
cording to this sage, depends upon - the
consumption of lemons.
At Pittsburgh, Pa., a young man ro
ccutly arrived'at a bqartiing-honse and
told the landlady he wantecT to be mar
ried. She sent out and told the girls in
the neighborhood, and they came in to
be considered. He chose the eleventh
who presented herself a respectable
voung woman and they were married.
Two days later she learned he had a wife
already.
Peobleu m Algebra. Let Mr. B.
! stand for x; a mad ball fanning hit
coat tails with ita horns equal y; an
eight-rail fence, two and a-half seconds
distant from life be the emergency. The
nnestion is. will x nlus v be equal to the
emergency. A dollar and a half pair of
ear muffs for the first correct solution.
.... r
, voaceairauoa n rarmuaj
Tiere is a notable absence 'ot capital
among the mast of farmers, while 'farm
ers free fitxa debt or those krrppiied wkh
the necessary means ior the full develop
ment, of resources .are the , exception
rather than the role. The more limited'
the capital the greater the necessity for
eoseentraMd eflort, for - avoiding un
neeeaary outlaya and expensiv. expert
meat .Finally . the individaal whoa
only capital is a stout ieart and a will
ing hand, malt needs make every blow
count directing his efforts frarr in a re
A.
munerati--tmakeL-ltoe srmrirtaaii
enterprising, gt-aheadJUmers are ruined
or attempting, too ma.cn, wan djt mora
thorough work on a limited; scale. "
, Every neighborhood abounds in prac
tical knoaa mnostmia? shia aabiect at
concentration in forminc: Many -a far- I
therteized with" a desire Ibr Improving
with" a desire Jbr lmproyt
his broad acres, attempts to reclaim a
bog, or clear a atony pasture, neglecting
some fine iece of arable land that is
neither half manured nor half cultivated.
It is hardly worth while to expend labor
and money on a rough spot while the
smooth pieces still remain at half their
productive capacity, if tne manure sup
ply is limited it is better to apply it to
the productive fields, where good re
turns are reasonably certain, than to
scatter it over thin and scanty soils to
to the neglect of stronger land. Many
an industrious farmer has proved a fail
ure in the vain attempt to cultivate more
acres than his means would justify, when
if his labors had been concentrated upon
half the area, success would have crowned
his efforts.. -.
It is not always the largest herd ef cat
tle or flock'of sheep that gives the best
result per head, but the greatest profit
follows the best herds and flocks. In
case of liaaited means it is far better for
a farmer to own half a dozen good cows
than double the number of poor ones. It
is far more profitable to cut three tons of
hay from one acre of eood land, than to
run over three acres of half-starved soil
to secure the same weight at tho harvest.
Quality rather than size is the real test
of many & farm product. A little extra
care and skill bestowed upon a dairy of
fifty pounds of choice butter, wiU yield
a larger profit than the shiftless, haphaz
ard churning of one hundred pounds of
an inferior quality.
It is not the number of miles traveled
in a day, er the number of blows struck,
that puts the balance on the right side of
the ledger, but it is the aim and purpose
and plan of the labor which determines
the profit and loss. Among onr farming
classes too many random shots are fired,
too many hours of labor expended with
out definite plan, too many animals fed
without profit, too many acres cultivated
without fertilizers, to Five the cultivator!
of the soil that reward which should at
tach to. their labors. Measured by the
standard of production in the garden
plot, how insignificant is the average
yield of acres on the farm, and yet the
garden is only a practical illustration of
concentrated labor and manure. Better
culture, more concentrated effort in-
eDBuneASneBtWSt 4ete.il must the
watchwords of that Eastern farmer who
hopes to secure a livelihood in competi
tion with the mammoth fields and virgin
soils and lands easily cultivated of his
Western brother, on the broad prairie
and rich bottom land of the far West
It should be the aim of every farmer not
to increase his acres under cultivation
any faster than his capital and circum
stances will warrant, but rather to im
prove his methods and concentrate his
energies and resources in the direction
of better culture, with larger and more
remunerative crops from fields already
in hand.
' A Rich Man on Riches.
The following story is told of Jacob
Ridgway, a wealthy citizen of Philadel
phia, who died many years ago, leaving
a fortune of five or six million d illarr-:
" Mr. Ridgway," said a young m: n
with whom the millionaire was convers
ing, " you are more to be envied than
any gentleman I know."
. " Why so?" responded Mr. Ridgway,
" I am not aware of any eauee for which
I should be particularly envied."
" What, sir I" exclaimed the young
man in astonishment. " What, you are
a millionaire! Think of the thousand
your income brings vou every month. '
"Well, what of "that?" replied Dr.
Ridgway. "All I get out of it .is my
victuals" and clothes, and I can't eat
more than one man's allowance or wear
more than one uit at a time. Pray,
can't you do as much?"
"Ah, but," said the youth, " think of
the hundreds of fine houses you own,
and the rentals they bring vou I"
, "What better am I off for that?" re
plied the rich man. " I can only live in
one house at a timej as for the money I
receive for rents why, I can't eit it or
wear it; I can only use it to buy other
house for other people to live in ; they
are tho benficiaries, not L
" But you can buy splendid furniture,
and costly pictures, and fine carriages
and horses in fact anything you de
tire." "And after I had bought them," re
sponded Mr. Ridgway, " what then ? I
can only look at the furniture and pic
tures, and the poorest man who is not
blind can do the same. I can ride no
easier in a fine carriage than you can in
an omnibus for five cents, without the
trouble of attending to drivers, footmen
and hostlers; and as to anything I 'de
sire,' I can tell you young man, that the
less we desire in this world the happier
we shall be. All my wealth cannot tuy
me a single day more of life cannot
buy back my youth cannot purchase
exemption from sickness and pain
cannot procure me power to keep afar
off the hour of death and then, what will
all avail when in a few short years at
most, I lie down in the grave and leave
it all forever? Young man, you have
no cause to envy meT
Say, Old Han!''
An anecdote of the late Mr. Otis, of
New London, Conn., who left a million
of dollars to foreign missions, is as fol
lows: He waa at one of the New London fish
markets on the wharfs, clad in his custo
mary overalls, and, as ever, unassuming
in his deportment, when the captain of
a sinking vessel rushed ashore, and seiz
ing Mr. Otis by the shoulder, ahonted:
" Say, old man, quick. Do you want
a job?" .
Mr. Otis look at him a little surprised
and turned away, whereupon the per -
sis tent captain luuuweo. mm up ana
again demanded
"Say you, don't you want a job to
pump out my vessel r
As Mr. Otis remained silent, the exas-
. j , .i.;. '
iue uiao 10 iae uicruu u mcu mi
owner of
I dollars.
more than three million
sv.-1' -aa
w4lk TWws, mm
a r
v in isssnis m St. imm sin )
la Northwest Missouri, where ex-Gov.
E. M. Stewart resided" years before and
after his political career, lift -to the time
of his death, aaany eld tMeastxlew to
tellot hit brilliant conversational pow-
and inexhaustible fund 01 aneodotea.
Ihe. Governor often told ot the difficul
ties whicM e bad a surmount, and Da
one of hia happiest mood he related a
sake story which. 1 have never see -Am
wri: i la those dayveold. ihe .Gov
ernor, s&ases were not only uncommonly
aumerouaf but infested ; certain portioM
of tne but to. such - aa-rem' iai
fanners would often pack np their bonsai
bold wares and rewuswiwoaBLlUJ iir-
inr the biiMiursh
eoad4 bay
frrr
t"een thirfo'tronl'
nlwmhe im numerous
that the hands would wmetimef stop'
work and inaugurate a short campaign
against them with shovels,, axes and
crowbars. The serpents were not vicjous,
the men being hardly ever bitten, but
the great vexation consisted 1 in thsir so
ciability and perfect indiHerence to
danger. They apparently were utterly
devoid of that instinct of self-preserva
tion with which the Almighty endowed
every creature. At night they would
sometimes make sleep imposiiDie oy
hissing and squirming in and about the
tents, and during the day they wouia
vex the men almost beyond endurance
by running between their legs and
otherwise annoying them, lhey were
not considered dangerous, being of that
species kno-vn as prairie hissers. It was
only now and then that a rattler was dis
covered among them, and death was sure
to follow, for the men would alwav top
and find time to chase one until he .was
overtaken and his head chopped . oft
The men always dreaded a shower, for
then the snakes were the worst They
would literally swarm out on the prairies
and travel in schools. On one occasion
of this kind, when the road was in
course of construction in Livingstone
County, the construction engine with
three flat cars was at the last camping
place, about ten miles in the rear of the
track builders. I was there awaiting
the landing of some tools and spikes,
which it was intended to convey to the
end. of the road. lt had been raining
all morning, but cleared up about noon,
and when we pulled-out after dinner the
weather was pleasan't but a little hazy.
We had traveled about half the distance
when the engineer I was riding on the
engine - called my attention to the hun
dreds of snakes crossing several hundred
yards in front of us, the track for a short
distance being black w ith them and en
tirely lost to sight. The engine-driver
opened the throttle and in a few mo
ments we were crushing through them.
The drivers had not made more than two
or three revolutions when they began to
fly around at lightning rapidity, and
the speed of the train was slackened.
The wheels of the engine were almost
clogged with crushed snakes, and still
the track was acbiaUy buried beneath
4heia fir on3 bin ireA yardu Am front, -of
us. We did not succeed in get'ing
much more headway, when the train
came to a standstill. We were unable
to make our way through them, and
amused ousclves by knocking them off
the engine. We were detained nearly
an hour befoie the grand march of the
serpents had croKsed and we were en
abled to proceed. They seemed to be
moving that day, and the earth seemed
to be alive with them; indeed they
seemed to cover the earth.
Bathing the Human Form.
Says an exchange: " Art in most
thing, so in w.ishiug, there are two wayt
of duing it. Some people take a bath
who have but a dim ide:t of wa-hine
themselves, and are vexed and annoyed
when toid the result is not happy. It is
a well known fact, but rarely remem
bered, that the skin is one of the great
safety-valves of the human machine
that the millions of little perspiratory
tubes with which it is pierced throw out
from the inner body an average amount
of thirty-tlree ounces of greasy refuse
and worn-out material in an hour In the
shape of invisible perspiration and in the
same time often as much at twoor three
pounds in visible perspiration. Should
these tubes or pores be allowed to remain
choked with their own secretions the re
fuse is thrown back into the other great
corporeal scavengers thelnngs, stomach,
liver or kidneys. Thus it stands to
reason that a careful and general cleans
ing of the skin is absolutely necessary to
the life and well-being of the individual
at least once in twenty-four hours, and
few people who rejoice. !n the comfort
of cleanliness will feel that it is secured
under this amount of washing. And we
would also here point out the fact that
the mere passage of water, especially
cold water (. g., what is ordinarily
called a sponge bath), does not cleanse.
In fact, it rather has a tendency to close
the pores, which, like - delicate flowers
shut up to a cold carrent of wind or
water, ne mcreiore recommend, as
warm or tepid water tends to open the
pores, to use that with the course of soan
scrubbing (not an unreasonable friction!
which should precede tho universal
sponging. This last may be done with
cold water, which certainly invigorates
and braces the system when followed by
a reactionary warmth. Should this not
occur, it is unwise to use it, and warmth
must be substituted,' csperiany in the
cases of children, who by ignorant
mothers are often forced into colu water
(from which they have not a sufficiently
active circulation to recover) as part of
that much abused system of ' liaruening,'
which nine times out of ten ends in
1 hardening1 the child off the face of the
earth, or checking its growth. .
" ' Hardening,' it must be understood,
should be strengthening, not ' roughing,'
and many people with the best inten
tions think, very erroneously, that to
make a child strong consists in causing
it to undergo more physical 'hardships
than they, with their perfectly matured
strength and age, would dream of doing.
" At people in conclnaioos- generally
rush to extremes, it might be 'well here
tb remark that we do' not at all recom
mend codling; but no wise mother will
put her young ebrMren in quite eold
water in winter time, nor with a cold,
and, above all will never allow them to
be washed and bathed in a draught, o
the same principle of : consistency that
plenty of fresh air ia good, when it ii
not damp or fogy bn draughts are
most injurious"
The quantity of gold minted in Vic
1 toria, from the discovery ef the pweioue
1 tuetai to IMC 91. 1S73. i-fti mated at
la,6L.ThiepvhicUon has skowa
i a steady decline of late y
m m
T) .... .1
The Russian navy now consists ot .is
.. ti.:. ......,,.r.t kpun-
BaillUg A A, m illlimi"'
ned by 4,1 -7 officers aud ii :.-') men.
ssisT,
lun enarauyyee
by
tArr 1 - .. '
is IV AWm.aAaa.Wrfl
JU.x IMK1 IV UUw uiuwi
EVt ciiminab"Httlfmpe3Jae
ktoway.UMT
fer a abort sentence.
. Illaaflue
'tnwVeiiMBttarf ecwT Ti
,th locks 01
tfrt WnanfXBerbrwW
tBb. careful oow"Yt)u TnnCTOml'
h. 1. .ha ttL, Tt meant not to '
Ow.Tf, but Hi equally hard" to que - t
ionwaWll-iswiSiarff, e, '
A-ai fMssv stsj'ssrsaif -auas ssm'
on on his toeTipo , '
I've eot lota on the ear." .
. Cervantes has said, " Every wie li
great Krupp a son of a gun. -
A man" may havea-Bostodloolrin aks..
eye simply by letting his imagination v
dwell on the things that have bean.
Jtjst as soon as ladles' beftt are mad
to look like tarolngler beraw will de- '.
mand a change of ftRhion fot- tUjpujr... (
selves.
Don't judge a man by hie lothea,i
Can you tell what the circus it going to
be like by looking at the Italian sunset ,
pictures on the fence f - t -l !
Job has been marked down In history
as the patient man., The fact is that at
one time he was just boiling; over wita -impatienee
to die.- - a w
If the rarroanding circumstances are , .
congenial, it ia fair to conclude that the t
rxisition preferred by lovers is juxtupogf- ,
Zn whlcT. tult, thent -:ll:t .
A paoJBCTJi weighing 1 J00 Pounds, , t
shot from a cannon charged wjthva., fci .-.
pounds of powder, ia theaateat Why
not use tbaearth for a cannon, haUi ' ''w j,tc
Air Irishman should .patronize th,
concrete pavement, because every time
they look upon it they will tea, fcheic
country's emblem iham-rock.
KAS8AB school-teacher: wWnerdoei
our grain go to ?'' " Into the hopper."
"What hopperr ''QianAopper,'' tri- .
umphantly shouted a scholar.
inn m 11 is un.11 nmaoi
kht t. map- s flowsr wsj Dora
10 Diusn
And muT s Biss tsssi hts oorn
Bshlae tbssorasa.
"I Aif glad that palntel belte are in
ttyle." taid a frisky fellow, uj aetis- .
tically decorated the one he received
over the eye the previous day. ,
A correspondent wants to know
what ia an affinity.. An affinity, my
dear sir, is something that exista be
tween a . small boy and hit neigSber'a
grape vine. r v .
A man's clothes are not always Indi
cative of his characte ; foe a fellow may
wear the loudest kind of garments and'
yet he as mild and quiet aa an autumn
sunset . . ... jv sj., t eu
." Fabhiow understands-Ual a lady la
ta:v iuitvlss-Uetv,th.: ati of
garments cover her form, the spittoon
and three' squares of Brussels carpet at
the same time.
A rather gaily dressed yotinr lady
asked her Sunday-school class what waa
"meant by the pomp and vanity of the
world." The answer was honest but
rather unexpected: "Them flowers on'
II k iuls along ths edirs ol tbs pitch,
Till so oMrcl bti kwo rjm Ml in;
Hp mttcliM It ussixt wiltsad ar
'Twat a Muaju luitcsd of a melon.
Jtaqui Mitirr. '
" How came you to be lt?" asked a
sympathetic geiitlemon of a Rule boy be -
lound ervuig iu the street Jor his mother. ,
1 Hint lost, indignantly exclaimed the
little three-year-old? "buf m-m-m-y
mother is, and I ca-e -can't find her."
The other day. an old topor, wjeover-
Ing from a prolonged spree, tat leading
the mnrninc naner. Boon he looked UP
and exclaimed, "Why, bless my soul, '
the rebels have Been nnng on or -Sumter!"
Oincinnati Saturday KUfht.
"Johnnie, what ia a noun?" "Name
of a person, place or thing." , " Very
good; give an example." "lland-organ
grinder. "Ann wny Is a hand-organ
grinder a nonnf . " Because he's a jcr
son playt a thing."
He is a fruiter's factotum; and when
he writes letters for hit employer, and
signs them "John Smith, per SiDimona,'' ,
he instinctively puckers np his lips. It
is seasonably 'suggestive, and bo fanl
help it.
A story in an exchange is entitled
"In Two Halves." yUl the author
kindly inform a .suffering public, bltudly
groping about in the misty avenues of
ignorance, in how tnarrv more halves it
would have been possible to bava had
thatstorv? . . t
W'hes a young man gets to tweett ca
a girl that in passing along the street by
her house, he hat to "bile a running
1 tart, fifty yards either way te he can
get pat the gate, it it almost time for
him to be asking the old folks if they
wouldn't like to take a aon-ln-law to
raise or find accomodations for another
boarder.
Brilliant, Bat a Failure.
Macaulay'sfeataof memory, as recorded
in his biography, haveastonWied read
ers. He could repeat the whole of Par
adise Lost and teveral other long peemt.
But one ef hie ' sohool-fellowa, William
Grant, an ulle fellow, who preferred gor 4
ing about the country to getting bis Its- r
tons, far excelled him In memorizing.
Ixird Teignmouth, also Orant't school
fellow, eysi-hi "BeminieoneesV' (bat
be knew him, when hut fifteen; o repei t
the whole of the Iliad, the Georgica,
three books of the jEnid, and the most 1
of Horace'i Odea. Gifted as he was in
this respect, he failed et Cambridge Unfc
versity, and in everything be undertook.
His constitutional indolence prevented
his jie.
An incident which occurred while be
was private secretary for hit brother,
Lord Gleneig, President of the1 Indian
Board, shows an inveterate incapacity to
attend to his work. Macaulay was" th
public secretary of the India ItoTdfa rr-t '
one day was attendiair taesUtney inK .-i
urgent affcir wa Wag discussed, wheia. .
Grant entered the conncil chamber and
whispered to' Macaulay that hew "
particularly wanted outside. Macaulay -replied
that he could not then leave hie -
poet Grant hewever, hovered, about
and renewed hit request until Macaulay
followed him out of the room. Going
to a door, the Idle fellow threw it open,
and pointing" to a Yorkshwe pi, resir
to l- eaten, said,
" ThU is ptefexabla to biuinc.f .
3Iacaulay. who had a clearer apprecj- a
t atlon of the" Importance of pdblic buit-
ness, somewhat indignantly tamed o"
his heel, and returned to the eouncii
chamber;. . ' k
The oreer of this brilliant memor
iier adds another illustration to tie
manv which teach that a mental alxi
ity will compensate for the want of industry.