2
Tlie Heartitul Rest Ol C»oil.
under the jcreat hi'* thr-.nc.
Cnder th» radlent. odorous son*
tf heaven'* blo*#'»n)inK «od:
Snui**h'T'' out of the RNl"'t and IIIOHI..
Th" mighty d-*pair we ■•nil our own.
I.i the beautiful rest of »od.
out of til* bitter hnt«* nud
out of th* madness *e «*al! lit".
Th* hard paths nil hav» trod:
t nit of th- U-insj w h*r- car«« are rife.
Sleep father and mother and husband »»nd »ite.
In the rent of Cod
\fter the loDtrinK and last despair.
After ifie buriai h> nni aud prajrer.
After the co. T.us clod;
rp In the breath of a purer air.
V* ith uladder music and tiov>.er» more fair.
In the beautiful r.-«t of od
Their* are rh- eve* unditnm*d of ?e>»rs.
Their* are The hearts that n» U-om,
Where the flower* of Paradise nod.
'l'hev. TO ilie so hi: of th- million spheres.
And like biosnorus of HDOW full the endless vear*
on the beautiful rent of God.
-The Church Y»-ar
ANDREW JACKSON'S LAST DAYS,
HTATI:MI:NT OF ONK WHO
SAW THK OI.D IIERO
PASH A WAV.
How ArtUt Hcaly Performed his
loiiitulHsion from Kliiij; I.ouls
IMillippe.
The following interesting account
.is taken from a private letter of Mr.
George P. A. Healy, the American
artist, long resident in Paris, j
o ~i
I beg to give you the statement
you requested of my commission
from King Louis Philippe in the
spring of 1845, at which time I was
occupied in England iu the king's
service. His majesty sent for me to
Paris, and said, "Mr. Healy. I wish
you to pamt for my historical gallery
at Versailles portra ts of several of
the great men of your country. I
learn that Gen. Jackson is extremely
ill, and as I wish Lis likeness taken
from the life, lofce no time on your
way to the Hermitage." So well
did I carry out instructions that I
did not stop in Baltimore to visit
my only sister, whom I had not seen
for years.
On my arrival I was grieved to
see the general so ill; he had been
unable to lie down for three months.
His answer to the king's request
was, "Can't sit, sir." My reply was
"The king will be very sorry."' "Not
for all the kings in Christendom,
sir." I bowed. One of the gentle
men said, "Mr. Healy, you should
have first seen Mrs. Jackson."' This
lady was the wife of yong Donelson,
who took the name of Jackson when
adopted by the general. She had
gone to Nashviile, twelve miles away.
J
I drove back to town, found the la
dy, and related the result of my vis
it. She said, Lam sorry father will
not sit. but, Mr. Healy, I will see
what 1 can do, and should he con
sent. my husband will cull for you
at It) o'clock to-morrow morning.
I never passed so long a uig'ut,
and the heat, although but the first
May, was extreme. Happily I was
called for at the hour named. I was
graciouslv received bv the general,
o » r>
who apologized that in the sitting
he should be unable to do me jus
tice. I assured him the greatest jus
tice he could do me was to forget
that I was present. Mrs. Jackson
informed me that she said much to
him of the joy his friends would f»*l
to see his likeness at Versailes. His
answer was the same: "Can't sit, my
child; let me die in peace." At last
she said: "Father. I should like you
to sit;" at this his tears fell fast, and
he exclaimed : "My child. I will sit."
The picture was completed within
the week. They requested me to
copy it for the family on my return
to Paris. I said a copy was rarely
so good as the original: if the gener
al would allow me to paint a secoud
they should have tHe first. This
gave satisfaction. When I had done
the old hero said : "Sir. I wish you
to paint my child for me." I bowed,
and said it was my duty at once to
go to Mr. Clay. I shall never for
get his impressive manner as he
said : "Young man. always do your
duty.''
On mv return to Nashville the
Hoi;. John B*-ll iuformed me the 1 a.5-1
A\* hnd h'ard of Mr. Clay was that
he hd»l h bud cold on board a steamer
aground near Louisville. Kv., and it
O •"
would be h week before he could
learn whether he had continued to
St. Louis or had returned to Ashland.
1 therefoie went back to the Hermi
tage. Jackson said: "I am
glad to see you, sir, and if the Lord
spares my life to see my child's por
trait finished, I shall rejoice.'' This
was Wednesday ; the next Saturday
the work wanted one sitting, and
the general never saw it finished.
On Sunday morning I was deeply
touched by a cry or wail that was
by the servants of the house,
P J
and taken up by those without, ami
liktt wave after wave passed over t-he
entire plantation ; the words wer6 :
"Lord, Lord, old master is dead, old
mantei is dead." This was in the
morning; I remained in my room un
til 12, when I heard steps on the
stairs. I saw two nephews of VI rs.
Jackson, who informed me that
"grandfather," as they called him,
had only faiuted when the servants
thought him dead. At twenty min
utes to six I knocked at the door of
the sick-room; the general's colored
man, George, opened the door and
told me his master was very low. I
turned to leave, when young Jack
son said, with tears falling from his
eyes, "come in.'" I replied, "not at
such a moment." He added, "I wish
you to; he is dying." I was sur
prised to find ten or twelve persons
in the room; all were weeping; the
general was propped up in his bed,
his head fceld by his great friend
Maj. Lewis. The dying man roused
himself from a lethargy, and said :
"Why should you weep for me? I
am in the hands of the Lord, who is
about to relieve me; you should re
joice, not weep." These %ere his
last words. His head drooped, and
the falling of the under jaw was the
only indication that all was over.
On seeing that, his daughter, who
was kneeling and holding one of bis
hands, fainted and was carried from
the room.—N. Y. Evening Post.
Celery.
It is strange that so healthful a
vegetable as celery should be used
so little, for while in season it ought
to be used like any other seasonable
green thing. The celery glass, with
its bonquet of vivid green, is a
bright, attractive ornament to the
dinner table. The majority of peo
ple never think of eating it in any
way but its raw state, yet there are
ways in which it may be served that
are much more palatable.
Boiled or steamed celery is very
nice. Cut up the stalks into inch
pieces, put in a saucepan and add
just enough water to cover the whole.
Throw in a little salt and let boil
until soft, but not enough so that it
falls to pieces. Drain off the water, ,
put the vegetable into a dish, and
while hot serve with butter.
Creamed celerv is very nice. Cut
in inch pieces and cover with milk,
to which, wLen boiling, add salt and
a small piece of butter. Serve hot.
This way of cooking eelerv is deli
cious.
The green stalks and leaves, usu
ally thrown away, are all useful.
Cut the stalks into small bits and j
use them for flavoringscups. broths,
etc. Put the leaves into a pan ol
dish and place in the oven to dry.
Watch them that they do not burn
and when dry crumble them aud
place away in a wide-mouthed bottle
and keep closely covered. This will
be found good for flavoring soups
when the celery is out of the market.
Celery seed is good to keep'in the
house for flavoring, and celery salt
is, to many, a necessary condiment.
This plant is a great nervine and
those suffering from any nervous
trouble are much benefitted by a lib
eral use of it. It is also recommend
ed for rheumatism, some authorities
goiLg so far as to say that when
freely eaten it is a sure cure for this
painful disease —Boston Budget.
PRESS AND CAROLINIAN, APRIL 11.
The Invalid and Violinist.
Au old and infirm soldier was play
ing oiiP evening on the Prater in % i
enna. His faithful dog was holding
his hat, in which passers by dropped
i a few coppers as they came along.
However, on the evening in question
nobody stopped to put a sma|l coin
into the poor old fellow's hat. Ev
eryone went straight on, and the
gaiety of the crowd added to the
j sorrow in the old man's heart, and
showed itself in the withered coun-
I
j tenance.
However, all at ouce, a well dress
ed gentleman came up to where he
i stood, listening to his placing for a
few minutes, and gazed compassion
ately upon him. Ere long the old
fiddler's weary hand had no longer
strength to grasp his bow. His
I limbs refused to carrv him farther.
He seated himself on a stone, rested
his head on his bauds, and began si
, lently to weep. At that instant the
j gentleman approached, offered the
: old man a piece of gold and said :
! "Lend me your violin a little while."
Then, having carefully tuned it he
j said : "You take the money and I
i will play."
He did play ! All the passers-by |
, stopped k> listen—struck with the j
j distinguished air of the musician, j
i and captivated by his marvelous ge-j
nius. Every moment the circle be
\ came larger and larger. Not cop
| per alone, but silver —and even gold
j was dropped into the poor inar/s j
hat. The dog began to growl for it,
was becoming too heavy for him to j
hold. At an invitation from the au
! dience the invalid emptied its con
tents into his sack, as they filled it
again.
After a national melody, in which
everyone present joined, with uncov
ered heads, the violinist placed the
instrument upon the poor man's
| knees, and without waiting to be
thanked disappeared.
"Who is it ?" was asked on all
i
sides.
"It is Armand Boucher, the fa
mous violin-player," replied some
one in the crowd. ''He has been
;
turning his art to account in the
service of charity. Let us follow
I his example."
Aud the speaker sent around bis
hat also, made a new collection, and
gave the proceeds to the invalid,
j crying, "Long live Boucher !"
Deeply affected, the invalid lifted
up his eyes and hands towards heav
en. and invoked God's blessing on i
his benefactor.
That evening there weie two hap
py men in Vienna—the invalid, who
was placed for a long time above the
reach of want, and the generous ar-S
tist, who felt in bis heart the joy
which always repays the bestowal of
charity.—Canada Presbjterian.
■
r
Dangerous IlrinUs.
The Phila lelphia "News" prints
the following :
"A bartender plaintively bewailed
the nece>sity of having to rub con
gealed drops of sticky beer off the 1
bar. 'But if I let them remain.'
said he in the tone of one seeking :
compassion, 'they rot the wood.'
" 'They rot the wood do they V
fiercely repeated a beer bibber. 1
•Then what in the name of common
sense does beer do in my stomach
"Replied the manipulator of
drinks : 'lt is beyound me to tell. !
Of one thing I am confident, and
that is man's stomach is made of
cast iron. Elsewise. how could he
withstand the fluids he pours into it *
' Let me show TOU something.' He
• C
placed a piece of raw meat on the
counter and dropped upon it a small
measure of an imported gingerale.
In five minutes the meat bad parted
into little pieces as though hacked
by a dull knife."
It is not surprising that beer
I drinkers are held by Hfe insurance
: companies to be extra hazardous
risks.
The Saloon Mnnt Go.
i
If we were a saloon keeper we
would not read the Bible, nor allow
I *
oue to come upon our premises; we
would not go to cburcb, Lior would
we ou any account, read religious or
temperance papers; but we would
close our eves, ears ai d heart against
everything that awaken cou
• J? ~
science and trouble the spirit. And
that's just what liquor sellers do we
suppose*, hence they do not read such
ai tides a* the following clipped
from the V Y. Advocate, on the sa
loon That paper says:
1 "The saloon is an institution
which deceives no quarter. It is
the chief source of crime and pover
ty. It is the worst enemy of the
i
home, the church, and the school.
It is the most dangerous snare for
; young men and boys. It is the
principle foe of ihe workingman. It
is one of the chief means of destroy -
1 ing life and health. The best life
insurance companies will not insure
saloon keepers at all, no matter how
strong and healthy and temperate
they may be. Accurate calculations
of life statistics have taught them
not to take such risks. The reason
is plain. The saloon is the place of
death. The saloon causes property
adjoining and near it, and across the
street from it to depreciate in value-
It blasts every thing it touches, and
taints the air in every direction. It
is the curse of humanity, the grief
of the righteous, the stumbling block
in the way of all progress, the inven
tion of the devil. The saloon must
go. The deep muttering of right
eous indignation in the hearts of
millions of American patriots against
this mighty engine of destruction is
an ominous sign that the decisive
conflict is just at hand."
A New Houtli Presidential Train.
Let us have a home-made train to
bring President Harrison and his
party from Washington to the Pied
mont Exposition. Let us have an
engine built in the South, Southern
built couplers—and let us have the
whole train, from the smokestack to
bell-rope, manufactured in the South.
Let it be furnished with Southeru
mado furniture, let the conductor be
dressed in Southern-made goods,
and run his train with a Southern- j
made watch.
President Harrison would be bet
ter pleased with this, and it would
be more significant and helpful to
the South than to bring him in the
finest train that ever ran on the rail.
Ten yeais ago such a thing would
have been as impossible as to fly to
the moon. Now it is possible.—At
lanta Constitution.
l'tilizinj£ Crown.
A Pennsylvania farmer has turned
the crows to a good account. He
makes them allies in his work. Writ
ing to the Ameiican Agriclturiel. he
says : "For tne past five seasons I
have, just before I expected my corn
to come up, I sowed on the field
about a quart of corn to each acre,
and repeated the operation as often
as necessary, until the corn was so
large that the crows could not pull it
up. If the corn is soaked until ten
der. they prefer picking what they
want to eat from the surface rather
than to pull up the young plants to
get it. The cost of the corn thus
sown is but a trifle; and as a result
I have a great number of crows al
most constantly on my corn-field, and
after they have been satisfied with
corn, they will »till pick up all the
insects, grubs, and cut-worms they
can find as a dessert. In raising fif
ty acres of corn since adopting this
plan, I have not los,t a hundred stalks
by crows and cut-worms combined."
''Can t eat a thing." Hood's Sar
saparilla is a wonderful medicine for
creating an appetite, regulating di
ge.-tion, and giving strength.
drafting and Iluddtii^.
How to graft and bud is some
thing that evtry farmer should know.
I will give my way ofgraftiug The
proper time is just before the leaves
come out in the month of April.
This is the time for apples and pears.
Cherry-trees should be grafted earlier
-
—as early as the weather will admit.
In grafting large trees, no graft
should be inserted into a limb over
one anil one half inches in diameter.
Great care should be tnken to have
the inside of stock and inside of bark
of graft to come in even contact.
To make your grafting wax take
four pounds of resin, two pounds of
bees\s ax and one pound of tallow and
melt them together
In budding young peach-trees se
lect tbe period when the leaves be
ffin to turn a little vellow; in this
D *
latitude about the middle of Septem
ber. I bud at the time of the new
moon, doing the work low down, and
covering up with the grouud.
Twenty Plccet* of Hone.
My little niece, left me by her
mother, had one of the worst cases
of white swelling I ever saw. More
than twenty pieces of bone came out
of her leg, one piece being übout the
size of the small end of a walking
cane, and nearly three inches long.
The hole left by taking these pices
out was as large as a good sized wal
nut. She was not able to walk a
step for eight months, and was after
wards compelled to use crutches for
nearly a year. The doctors said
there was no cure, and advised am
putation of the limb. This I would
not consent to, but put her to tak
! ing Swift s Specific (S. S. S.), leav
ing off all other treatment. It has
cured her sound and well, and I
| shall never grow weary of speaking
1 its praise.
MRS. ANNIE GEESLING.
Columbus, Ga , Feb. 11, 1889.
The World Ought to Know It.
The world ought to know what S.
S. S., has done for me in the cure of
a malignant Cancer, which was so
bad as to be considered incurable by
the physicians in Chicago, where I
went to be treated. The hospital
surgeons gave me up, saying they
could do nothing for me. One of
my neighbors sent me a copy of an
advertisement cut from a paper in
regard to Swift's Specific, and I be
gan taking it. 1 got relief from the
first few doses; the poison was grad
ually forced out of my system, and I
was soon cured sound and well. It
M now ten menths since I quit tak
ing S. S. S., and I have had no sign
of return of the dreadful disease.
M us. ANN BOTHWELI
AU Sable, Mich., Dec. 21), 'BB.
Send for books on Blood Disease*-
and Cancers' mailed free.
The Swift Specific Co.
Drawer 3, Atlanta, Ga
Wliat He Rcalb Ha id.
"Deacon Rastus, I s called on vou
for dem fifty dollahs you promise-1
for de new church," the Rev. Mr
Lofclus said.
*T didn t promise to guv fifty dol
lahs." rejoined Rastus.
"\ep, yer did, deacon.
••You're mistaken, brudder."
■*\\ by, Rantus, how s Jat ar* 1
hearn you stan up in yer place in de
church an' say out loud dat you'd
give fifty dollahs."
"No, yer did'nt. brudder Loftu 0
er don t remember correctlv. I
>aid I d head a scription wid fifty
dollahs, an" so I will. I didn't say
I'd give no fifty dollahs, an' I don't
intend to."
llucltleti'M Arnica Halve.
Ihe best Salve in the world for
Ruts, Bruises, Sores, Ulcers, Sait
Rheum, Fever Sores. Tetter, Chap
ped Hands, Chilblains, Corns, and
all Skin Eruptions, and positively
cures Piles, or no pay required R
is guaianteed to give perfect satis
faction, or money refunded. Price
25 cents per box. by Royster.