WNUAE TPHI 1 "Wta* time i* it? .is:.;', 'WBM to do well--- -y ..&?> Bwtollwlwtta . v„. Q»T*upth»t grudge-- | - wwarttuU letter- jg^,;: • urd, to «wpcton * soriWr; " you would leave till to-morrow. Ttitie to try hard In tb*t new situation-- Tlnni to Imtld up on ; /ji A BOIM foundation, #iVtMf up nae<Ue««ly, ch&nginR and drifting; : iMfiai the quicksand* that ever are ahlfUwg. • \ .*v*\ . WhatttmeiaH? ' . ft- * Time to bo thrifty; v» •- Farmers take warning--• *' * , l •*•» Plow in the nyringttme- * > §ow in the morning-- rain Is oumtng, aepiiyrp are blowing; _ will attend to the ijuiekcuing and growtag. • v Time to count coat-- ;c Lwwen wpeawi vy'l •*?*<»'•" 'v,' Time to look well la • ** To the gates and the fenoaa, MafclM Writ toendinp, as good workers should; MmtUa® eat evil and keeping tha good. What time Is It T ' v< Time to be earliest, ' Laying up treasure. ' i; jv ^ Tinio to foe thoughtful, y , ; Choosing true pleasure; M*tB(4hni justice--of truth being fond; Siting/our word just as good aa your bond. lime to lie happy, Doing your boat-- Time to bo truthful, Leaving the reat, Knowing In whatever oouutry or oltme Xa'ar can we call back one minute of IbM. m IKE COUNTRY POSTMIM, Story of a Hero. (Translated from the French of Louis Colls#.} You have often seen him pass through the fields with a hasty tread, reoognisa- ble not only by his blouse and his regu lation hat, but also by the sustained ac tivity of his movements,-.because for him the instants are counted and he has not the right to slacken his paoe. An inde fatigable walker, he accomplishes his task from the first to the last day of the year without even resting. No matter though a tropi«al sun invite all creatures to become motionless, though the cold be Siberian, though it blow and snow, he must go to the last village on his route to carry the letters, newspapers and prospectuses which trade confides by millious to the care of the post. The highways are not made for him, snd he must cross the country, passing through woods and marshes, to seek the 'hut lost in the depths of solitude, far removed from any public road. He travels from eight to ten leagues daily, making circuits, crossing brooks, seeding rocks, venturing into ravines and wounding himself anion <r the hedges and briars. Loiteriug is forbidden to him, for the official hour of return is fixed; the letters he brings badk must depart by the next mail. They ore waited for at the postoffice, and the least variation of his programme tnay have grave con sequences. We cannot, without ingratitude, for get the services of this incorruptible messenger, whose probity and zeal Ore constantly put to proof, who brings us at a certain hour our letters and our journals, the news, the expectation of nrhich keeps us full of anxiety; who contribute to soften for us the bitterness of absence and distance. Imagine the roid the disappearance of these humble functionaries would leave in our exist- enoe! 1 knew a man who for twenty years Eilcd this position. A former o"!dio", thanks to irreproachable records of service strengthened by a little influence, he had obtained the great favor of having placed to his credit fifty francs per month at the postoffice of the district. Pere Martin was. not very fond of this brilliant position, but he perfectly un derstood his responsibility and duties; he never complained. well known. I hope you will not refuse to drink with me. Ho 1 Madame Rosier, two glasses of your beat brandy." A woman waited on tfft^Sk and returned to her occupation. " "What a dog's trade you follow, Pere Martin ! " said the man. "Will it take you much longer to finish your round ? jYou d-ubtleas iiave yet to go to tue Landa Orise. to Plessis. I kuow some lone who is impatiently waiting for you \ there. I am obliged to pass in the vi- ! cinity. If you wish it I will relieve you of yonr letters." 5 " Thank you; i will deliver them my self." " That's yourself out snd out. After all, yon are right It is your duty to deliver them." While talking with aloquacity whioh did not enconrage the postman, he took up the sack the latter had placed beside him, seemed to feel its weight, and turned it over and over. " Let my sack alone, please," said Martin, coldly. " Yon have disarranged sll my letters. I shall no longer know what to do. The other humbly exoused himself for thi« awkwardness. "The evil is reparable," added he. " Seat yourself at this table and you will have no trouble to arjange the letters according to the route you should take," The poBtman emptied his sack before him and began to arrange his letters. His questioner affe«ted to keep dis creetly at a distance, but found an op portunity to cast a furtive glance over ais shoulder. While Martin was busy with his work he heard furious growls behind him. " Pere Martin, help me to prevent your dog from strangling mine," said his new acquaintance. The postman arose and caught his dog by the skin of the neck. The ani mal's fury contrasted with its habitual gentleness. This fact seemed strange to Martin. He felt distrust of the communicative stranger grow upon him. He was about to replace hijs papers in the sack, when the man, as if to see what was the state of the weather, opened the door. <• At the same iustint the wind swept impetuously into the room, which it filled with a thick smoke, and, lifting the letters spread out upon tha table, scattered them in every direction. The postman uttered an exclamation of anger. " Bah! it is nothing," said the person who had caused the accident. " We two will speedily gather them up." And without heeding' the refusal of Martin, wlio wished to avoid his help and do the work alone, he began to search for the letters. When they had collected all they could fiud, the postman carefully exam ined them; then he seemed worried, as if he had not the full number. " Are there any missing ?" asked his companion. " It appears to me that there was an other letter." "Bah! Either you are deceived or you forgot it at the postoffioe." " That is quite possible." He said to himself that it must be so. However, he resumed his hunt and searched beneath the furniture. He found nothing, and concluded that his memory had not served him faithfully, for ne usu watiCuOu uii> coiupuuio& s movements, and it did not seem admiss ible to him that he had stolen a letter. Nevertheless he hastened to depart, re gretting that he had entered the drink ing house. The man who had chatted with him inspired in him a veritable re pulsion, and it was his rule, because of the habits of discretion which the post- office imposes upon all its agents, to IN TFCM J.-I--T-aa urnce imposes upon »U IUS agents, to <$aaui „ _ with "bronzed features, whose limbs had the ftiianey and strength of steel. He -was highly appreciated, for, while a Scrupulous observer of the regulations, he never refused to perform a service, provided it dad not conflict with his 41 Yesterday he aooostsd me to sound me; I did not hide from him my con tempt. He saw clearly that he was un-- masked in my eyes; he overwhelmed me with insults and threats. I took the unfortunate notion to say to him that soott, when my husband returned, when he had a man before him, he would be less presumptuous. Oh ! if you knew what glanoes his eyes shot at me, what an expression of hatred his features wore! I know that often during the night he haunts the ruinsjof Moulin- Brule. If this man should discover that my husband is to pass through that place, I tell yon. Monsieur Martin, he is lost." " What is the scoundrel's name?" " Jean Bruno. It is not astonishing that you are unacquainted with him, for sinoe his return to the district he has Slot publicly shown himself." The postman was silent. He remem bered having heard the woman at the drinking house call the man he had met there by that name. He asked himself in consternation if the letter had not been stolen from him, but he recalled all the circumstances and banished this supposition. He felt certain that the epistle had not been in his sack ; he re-, assured himself and sought to reassure the woman ; yet he resolved to wait her husband's arrival at the chief town of the district to advise him to be prudent. He hastened away, and when he was alone his fears regained possession of him. He again began to doubt, and lit tle by littie was seized upon by a terror he icould not explain. He increased his paoe and leaped over the hedges and ditches with unusual nimbleness. Un fortunately, his round that day was ex ceptionally long, and the bad weather in advance had considerably delayed him. He reached the postoffice a little later than was his custom. The woman who distributed the mails, on being consult ed by him, affirmed that he had taken away a letter for Mme. Andre. One of her assistants confirmed this declaration. The postman was thunderstruck. He saw with fright the lieay v responsibility thrown upon liim. His terror augment ed when he remembered that time and again, at the moment of opening the mail bags, a man had presented himself, asking if there was anything for Mme. Andre! He flew rather than ran to the office of the coach which carried passengers from the nearest station on the railway to the chief town. George Andre hod arrived, but had set out immediately on foot for his village. The news gave Martin a violent shock. The prospect of a catastrophe for which he would be responsible arose be fore him. He saw this man who had returned with joy in his heart, encoun tering death at the threshold of his home through his fault, and misfortune over taking the widow and orphans. The darkest clouds troubled his imagination. He did not hesitate, and, without tak ing time to enter liis dwelling, started off again. Those who saw him pass, ab sorbed in his thoughts and noticing no one around him, asked themselves what grave affair could have caused this breathless haste on the part of a man who must have come Daok from his round broken by fatigue. _ After having passed over a fourth of the distance he inquire*! «i<i!i«^ririnir th® traveler, and asked if h^ had been seen. He had gone by some time before. The joy of return had given wings to his feet, as the thought of misfortune to be averted had increased the speed of the postman. There was no longer even the shadow of a doubt; the fated man had taken the path which led straight to the Moulin-Brule. Pere Martin calculated that, by crossing over another path, | which, tio-wevei, "vrtwi rongh ana, dang«c- PEDDLES BOY OF kl!Al)ING. IyivM llU lliill Wl-tWllj vi vUUiUliUIiVvi i Mv>vfS5V©Tj wlUI BinCe ' j The storm had somewhat abated its I ons, he could yet arrive before him, j 'here was not a corne%gf his route " which he had not passed over accompa nied by his wolf-dog. He knew to a meter the distance separating the small est hamlet from the chief town of the district, and was familiar with all the paths and by-ways. To spare himself half an hour's walk he never would have thrown into a ditch aome silly prospectus or some printed matter bearing a doubtful address; if he returned anything to the postoffice it i was because its destination could not be found. He was the slave of his orders, as punctual as the clock, and so discreet as to discourage the most curious. Ev erybody greeted him kindly when he ar rived at a village; the children came to him, and even the dogs barked joyously at his approach. There was considerable rivalry as to who should offer him a glass of cider and a slice of bacon. Hut he rarely accepted anything. Time passed and he did not like to contract trouble some obligations. Hence the notes made concerning him were excellent, and his cliief regretted that the parsimony of the administration only permitted them to reward his loyal •ervices with contemptible gifts. One day in the middle of October he departed/ on his usual round. The weatjier was frightful; it had been rain ing incessantly for more than a week; the roads had become bogs, and tha brooks had been transformed into tor rents. What foli?ige remained on the trees was so impreguated with water that it could not ofler a protecting shelter. The postman, wet to the skin, walked with the impassability of an old soldier who does not discuss his orders. He had distributed a portion of his mail, but his round was far from being finished, when he passed an inn, or rather a miserable drinking house, situ ated at the entrance of a wood. This place was mainly patronized by sabot makers, who found there alcoholic drinks and a few groceries. "Ho! Monsieur, the postman, stop here for an instant; while you are giving me the information I need, the violence oi the storm will abate." This invitation was addressed to him by a man who, with a pipe in his mouth, was standing upon the threshold of the drinking house. The rain was pouring down at that •loment; a fierce blast swept it into Pere . Martin's faoe, prevented him from walk- mg and bent to the ground the stalwart trees. The postman was a little ahead of time, Mid the demands of the service do not go BO far as to forbid the acceptance of a momentary shelter when it offers itself Wider such circumstances. -'"iV ®-e» therefore, went into the house and ^t down beside the fire which crackled on the hearth. The man who had invited him to enter threw upon it some ' Branches, which were soon in flames • a keavy vapor arose from Martin's soaked garments. The stranger interrogated the postmin •s to the hours of the d eparture of the > mails, and asked him a host of questions about himself, his service and everything ;^.«rjj3ncerning it. " You know me, then ? " said the post- ^ i "Parbleu! Everybody loves and es- tjfoems you here; Pere Martin's value is rm* % fury, the rain soon ceased to fall, and blight sunshine lighted up the country when the postman reached the nearest rillage. A woman was at the door of her house awaiting his passage. She was still young, and, without possessing remark able beauty, had a neat and sympathetic countenance. " Monsieur Martin," said she to the postman, "have you a letter for me?" "No, Madame Andre, I have not." " That's strange; my husband should have written to me to-day; you cannot imagine how much his silence troubles me." She grew pale and seemed scarcely to have the strength to sustain herself. The postman assisted her into the house and handed her a chair, upon which she let herself fall. Two charm ing children fixed on her sad and anx ious looks. " You will receive a letter to-morrow, Madame Andre," said Pere Martin; " the delay of a day is easily explained; your husband was disappointed, some unforeseen business suddenly demanded his attention and he missed the mail." " No; I know him and cannot under stand his silence. You are aware that he departed two months ago for the city. Bone work was to Vie attended to which promised to bring him in a great deal of money ; a small inheritance was also to be received. But all is con cluded. He sent me word that he would return this evening ; he has made his arrangements to that end. To-morrow the farm of La Mane is to be sold ; he has decided to purchase either all or part of it. It is an opportunity which will never again present itself, but I would prefer a thousand times that he should miss it to have him returning without notifying me." "Why?" "Because some one has wicked de signs against him, and at night a terri ble blow is soon struck. You know that there are two routes by which to return he e; one is longer than the other, but safer. I am afraid lest he may return by way of the Moulin-Brule, the more so as there is some one to see that di rection. I tremble at the mere thought of it. 8f I on] v kn'-'v--" The postmaan strove to calm her fears, but she shook her head. "You can't think," resumed she, " what certain men are capable of, when they have a grudge against anybody." She seemed to hesitate, and then added: "If I tremble it is not simply be cause my husband will have to pass through a dangerous spot with money in his pocket, but also because there is in the district a wrsftch whose dearest rdsh is to put five feet of earth between them. "Thus hatred dates from long ago. When I was a young girl he wanted to marry me. but he filled me with horror. He has never pardoned me for having repulsed his offers, and has enveloped in the same animosity the man I preferred to him. He hates George and myself for being in easy circumstances, while he vegetates in want, as if honest people uere responsible for the mistakes of idlers and drunkards. This is not all. A crime was recently committed; sus picions were aroused, but proofs were wanting. 1 possess them and the guilty man knows it. Ah ! it is a dangerous secret for a woman who has only children around her! He hastened on and reached the fatal spot when the night was already ad vanced. The place was well fitted up for an ambuscade. There was a species of cut through the rocks. On both sides bushy trees formed an impenetrable shade, rapidly moving clouds at each in stant veiled the moon, the wan rays of which added to the sinister character of the landscape. He paused; amid the rustling of the foliage agitated by the wind he thought he heard the sound of approacliiu foot steps ; it was doubtless George Andre, whom he had preceded only by a few instants ; be was about going to meet him, when the report of a gun rang out and a ball struck him full in the breast. The assassin emerged from a neigh boring thicket, but on approaching his victim to finish and rob him he found himself in the presence of a new actor aud vented his disappointment in a hor- riable oath; he had recognized George Andre. The blade of a knife flashed in his hand, but he was not allowed time to use it--a club descended vigorously upon his head and felled him to the ground. A woman distracted with terror, at this moment threw herself on the post man's body. "Oh ! how wretched I am!" cried she. " I foresaw; he has killed him ! " Madame Andre had not been able tc subdue her uneasiness, and, at the hour she supposed her husband ought to ar rive, she had come to wait for him ; at the report of the gun, she had run for ward precipitately. "Jeanne," said her husband to her, "ressure yourself ; I am unhurt." " It was not you ? Who then has he assassinated ? " They bent over Martin's body and re cognized him in the moonlight whioh at that instant illuminated his faoe and uniform. The husband and wife carried him tc their home, where he lived only twenty- four hours. He related how he had al lowed to be stolen from him the letter in which George Andre had announced hie • return, and how he had decided to pre vent at any price the consequences ol his negligenoe, even if he should be compelled to offer his life in exchange for that of the father of a family whom he hod involuntarily helped to place in peril. Obscure victim of duty, he had added another act to the list of those unknown sacrifices which are made daily, without being encouraged by the hope of recom pense, without even having for indemni fication the remembrance they should leave behind them. A M Who Mm • r»H *nU Mr Bw fhgr ftaa fit* Mentis [Rolling (Fa ) (V>r, K. 6on.| The bov jjsddler, with twenty-nine fine suits of elothing, twenty-four over coats, and thirty-three pairs of kid gloves, has his home in this mountain city, and is well known to all traveling commercial men who get along this way. Periodically the boy breaks out in local advertisements announcing an addition to his extensile wardrobe, as follows: "Thomas Jeff, rs^n Cummings has the honor to announce that he has just added another suit to his fall afternoon wear, and now his fine wardrobe consists of forty fashionable full suits, twenty-four overcoats," Ac. It is his boast that he can appear on the street every day in the month and wear a different full suit of clothing each day, and allow at least three changes on Sunday. CummingB is about eighteen years of age, peddles no tions, with a basket on his arm, helps to support a widowed mother, pays cash for all he gets, sells close, works hard and is a standing Republican candidate for Congress in this Gibralter of Berks Oounty Democracy. On the streets of the city his appear ance is that o>f a Beau Brummel. His dress is exceedingly loud, his weakness running to green kid gloves, corn-colored ribbons, pink eye-glasses, and silk hats of the latest style. In the country on business his appearance is that of a poor, humble, meek and lowly Hebrew, and his customary salutation to tho people he calls on is " Have pity on a poor boy and help him along." The young man is exceedingly kind, affable and agreea ble, and succeeds in selling large quan tities of goods at very fair prices. The farmers have a strong liking for him, and when they visit Reading on business and see the well-dressed young swell sweeping past in broadcloth, kids, and gold-headed cane, they little dream that the young man is the peddler boy they know so well at home. His savings are entirely invested in clothing and articles of adornment. At times he is not seen for weeks. Heisthen out on the country highways, ooining money in a small way. He neithersmokes nor drinks, and has no expenses worth speaking of. Then, suddenly, h«* will break out in Beading, set the fashions for a week or more, and as suddenly afterward disappear. He generally leaves home on Monday morning, invariably starting before dawn, in order that his acquaintances may not see him in his make-up. He carries a large basket filled with goods, and he orders his fresh supplies shipped to various points along his route. On Saturday night he gen erally returns, looking decidedly weather-beaten, but if there is aq opera or theater in town he is generally in the front row of the parquet by nine o'clock, dressed to rival the most fashionable swell in the land He is quite a favorite among commercial men, who know him as "Collins, the boy millionaire." It is currently reported that he is to be mar ried, and that an insurance has been placed on him (marriage insurance) ol $125,000. Cummings claims that he hag the largest wardrobe in the world of any person of his age. He is five feet five inches tall, and weighs 128 pounds. Frank Hatton. Of Frank Hatton. first Assistant Post master General, Private Dalzell writes as follows, in the New York Mail: "I was surprised to find that Frank Hatton is only thirty-five years old; but his aunt Mary told me so, and she knows. Frank learned the trade of a practical printer, in his father's office, at Cadiz, Ohio, when a boy. It was from there, in 1861, when but fifteen years of age, that Frank ran away from taouMB and «uli<itqd as a d the 15th Ohio. H3aptain Pa., $500,000; Henry Nicoll, Chairman Executive Committee of the Bar Asso ciation, New York, $200,000 ; Abraham Jackson, lawyer and President, Boston, Mass., $300,000 ; John R. Morton, Phil adelphia, $1.000,000; E. J. Wm^low, Boston, Mass., $600,000; G. Von Hollen, City Collector, Chicago, $130,000 ; John C. Trac»y, Bank President, Hartford, Ct., falsification of accounts to the extent of $600,000 ; Hildreth & Tighe, lawyers and agents, New York, over $100,000 ; both were pilars of their rej^ spective churches, as indeed were many^ other embezzlers.--New York Timet Beat My Sheep. A minister, rather given to suoh exer cises, in a sermon had been flagellating his congregation, when an old man asked him, on going out if lie would not preach from the text, "Lord, thou kuow- est all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, 'Beat my sheep.' " "No, no!" said the pastor; "you are mistaken, my brother. He said, 'Feed my sheep.'" "Ah, did He," said the old man, with a searching look into the pastor's face. "I thought mebbe you read it, 'Beat aay sheep!'" The pastor saw the point, and the Baptist Teacher that tells the story adds that that minister threw away the cudgel, and filled up his crib! There is a hint in that for teaohers who are "under" pas tors. as a drummer boy in Bostwicit tele graphed to Frank's father to know whether he should send him home or swear him in, and the patriotic old fel low replied ironically, "Swear him in," and it was accordingly done, and he served till the close of the war, mak ing the historic march with Sherman to the sea. When he came back from the war, dissatisfied with the hills and old familiar haunts, Frank went West, and finding the Mount Pleasant Journal for sale, induced his father to sell out the Cadiz Republican and purchase it, and the whole family removed to Iowa. At first Frank, his brother Burt, Rev. McAdams, who had married Frank's sister Carrie, and Rev. Brody, who had married Frank's sister Margaret, all had charge oi the Journal, but soon finding it unprofitable for him, Frank sold out to his brother and brothers-in-law, and going to Burlington purchased an inter est in the Haw key e, where he made his fortune and this quasi Cabinet position together. "Frank married a Miss Snyder, a sober and discreet young lady, of fine appearance and charming manners, and the fruit of that marriage is a little boy, now five or six years old, who will ac company them to Washington and con tribute much to polite society there this winter. " Frank never lived here, at the home, of his father's youthful days. He was born at Cambridge in 1847. He was a special portegeoi John A. Bingham, and from him probably caught his political ardor and ambition. " Frank Hatton is a small man physi cally, about five feet eight, and weighs may be 150 pounds or less. He is a blonde of a darker type than common, wears a mustache and shaves the rest of his round, merry face closely. He has blue eyes, an intellectual forehead, and a pleasant face. He is a ready conversa tionalist of the convivial hail fellow well met Western type, and knows all the differences between cavendish and fine cut tobaccos, and could artistically sample a case of fine cigars, or upon occasion unbend generously over a bibulous basket as good as anybody. His character back to childhood is with out a blot or blemish, and even free from those lighter escapades from which many a more promising youth than his has not been wholly exempt. He has due business tact and is a ready stump speaker." Some Heavy Embezzlers. Between July, 1873, and December, 1877, both inclusive, the names of more than 300 firms in this country were pub lished as embezzlers or defaulters in sums of over $5,000, while doubtless scores more escaped publicity. In many cases the thefts amounted to hundreds of thousands ; in one or two, to millions. They were not humble, uneducated men who did these things. To read the an tecedents of most of those who figure in this b^ick list, might well make those persons despair who have nuppo.sed ed ucation to be a great preventive of crime. Let us take haphazard a few cases : Charles T. Carlton, Secretary Union Company. New York, % 100,000 (dead); Charles If. Phelps, Cashier State Treas ury Department, Albany, $300,000; J. C. Duncan, Bank President, San Fran cisco, $750,000; Stephen Wardwell, Cashier Commercial National Bank, Providence, R. I.. $20,000 ; David Gage, City Treasurer, Chicago, 111., $500,000 ; Theodore Wick, Treasurer, Ohio, $90,- 000 ; Water Commissioner, Pittsburgh, Woman Held Responsible. Recently tho Indianapolis Herald con tained a short paragraph to the effect that "the severest critics on women's shortcomings are women "to which a lady reader of that paper- has taken ex ception in the following sarcastio man ner: "Eve was blamed in the beginning, and her daughters will be blamed till the end for every misstep, and criticised for every fault by both her own and the op posite sex. Woman criticises woman severely, and for no other reason but to win favor in the eyes of the wretch who made her sister a subject of comment and to show her strength of mind. Had Adam been a man, as the Lord intended, and not a contemptible scoundrel, women's position in this world would have been different; she would not al ways be taking a back seat in the thea tre of life, and dancing while somebody else whistled; she would not(be shunned as a leper and hissed at as a counterfeit for the same sins man is guilty of, and publicly forgiven by virtuous, but nar row-minded women, and lauded by men, who are so imbued with the faults of their ancestor that they forgot what they owe to women--for their mother's sake. If Adam had not been a coward and a knave, when the Lord called unto them to come out of their place of concealment, after having par- token of the fruit of knowledge, he would would have come boldly forth and said : "Lo, and behold, Master, I alone am to' blame, being the stronger; let not thy wrath fall upon the wife Thou Hast given ME !" But, instead, he crawled out, like a dog With wool in his teeth, and pointing derisively at Eve, said: "Lo, and behold thS woman Thon gavest to be with me ; she gave me of the tree and I did eat," and Eve, not wishing to make her husband out a liar, hung her head and said nothing, until the Lord said: "What is this thou hast done?" Then she replied : " The ser pent (meaning Adam, of course) be guiled me, and I did eat," But, mind vou, she did not lay the blame on her husband, as he, unchristian-like, had done upon her ; which in my eyes prove her innocence. I never dad believe, I never can believe, I never will believe that Eve ever pulled that miserable apple, all Bible translators to the con trary notwithstanding. Of course, after the Lord cursed them, Eve, bro ken-hearted at the false accusation of her husband, never felt like holding up her head again, consequently he petted and tyrannized over her as suited his fancyi instilling in her mind the disgrace of weakness in woman, the nobility and generosity of man--the loyalty of his own heart and forbearance in not ap plying for a divorce as soon as cast out of Eden, until the poor woman was so muddled that she didn't know half the time if she stood on her head or heels, scourging herself for imaginary sins, while she loved and despised the man tfcho accused her. No wonder that her daughters have inherited their traits. Like mother, like daughter ; like father, like son. "Adam and Eve will live throughout time--the woman will be pursed for the -u man, at Jeast.Jar which he is (squally or like guilty. But the better day is coming, efen if it is after she is dead, for women. The Lord is finding out a thing or two, and knows he made a mistake when Adam was created first. Woman will inherit the Kingdom of Heaven, not for sins or forgiveness of sis ter woman, but for the ability and for bearance, love and honor she exhibits | in shielding man, in tagging around ; after him, in smoothing over his weak points, and nursing the corrupt infant j as if he were her own. The Lord is ashamed of his irreparable error, and woman will receive her reward." How to Write. The noted novelist, Miss Mulock, haa a few pldasant words to say concerning her method of novel-writing which may be useful to young writers: All stories that are meant to live must contain the germ of life, the egg, the vital principle. Therefore, the first thing is to fix on a central idea, like the spine of a human being, or the trunk of a tree. From it, this one principal idea, proceed all aftergrowths; the kind of plot which shall best develop it, the characters which must act it out, the incidents that will express these characters, even to the conversations which evolve and de scribe these incidents--all are sequences following one another in natural order. Every part should be made subservient to the whole. You must have a fore ground and a background and a middle distance. If you persist in working up one character, or finishing minutely one incident or series of incidents, yotlr per spective will be destroyed, and youi novel become a mere collection of frag ments, not a work of art at all. The true artist will be ready to sacrifice any pet detail to the perfection of the whole. A novel does not grow naturally, but represents a great deal of hard work. When I was young, an older and more experienced writer once said to me: "Never use two adjectives where *>ne will do; never use an adjective at all where a noun will do. Avoid italics, notes of exclamation, foreign words and quotations. Put full stops instead of colons; make your sentences as short and clear as you possibly can, and whenever you tliink you have written a particular ly fine sentence, cut it out." We novel ists cannot help but smile when asked if such and such a character is "taken from life," and especially when ingenious critics persist in identifying--usually falsely--certain persons, places of inci dents. For me, I have only to say that during all the years I have studied hu manity I neve* met one human being who could have been "put into a book," as a whole, without injuring it The only safe field for a writer is fiction. It Pays to be Polite. A gentleman at Bridgeport was an in terested and amused party in an episode which occurred at the South Norwalk Depot. While strolling about the plat form waiting for a train, he saw a woman slip on something and nearly fall. Full of sympathy and politeness, he hurried to tl be rescue and assisted her to rise. As she assumed an upright attitude, however, something escaped from hei possession that at once caught her bene factor's eye. It was nothing else but his valise, which he had left in the depot a minute before, and which it appears the distressed female was trying to get away with. The gentleman is more than ever convinced that politeness does pay. New Haven Palladium. . SCIENTIFIC MISCELLAtff. CKBTATS species of animals have regu lar jemeteries to which they repair to die. The South American llama, for instanoe, has its difttricl cemeteries, in which bones are found in great numbers. In experiments to determine the depth beneath the surface of the sea to which sight could penetrate, twenty-five fathoms was found to be the limit of visibility. It was also found that the water is most transparent when its tem perature is highest. AN EXTRAORDINARY interest is mani fested in the Polar regions this year, two expeditions being now en route to that locality from the United States, (me each from Norway and Sweden and Denmark, a private one from England and an of ficial one from France. THE stinging hairs of the nettle con tain glands at their bases which secrete the poison felt when a nettle is touched The slightest touch breaks the point and allows the poison fluid to pass out. Under a mioroscope the contents of the hair are seen to be in a state of constant motion. AN ENORMOUS electro-magnet has been made for the University of Greifswald. The case is formed of twenty eight iron plates bent into horse-shoe shape and connected by rings so as to form a cylinder eight inches in diameter. The hight is four feet, and the weight about fourteen hundred pounds. THK Rev. Dr. MoCook has noticed a black " carpenter ant," which is capable of effecting great destruction in wood work, contrary to the general belief that ants outside the tropios are harmless practically. He has seen a rafter in which this species, the Formica Penn sylvania had penetrated to the extent of fivo or six feet of its length, com pletely honeycombing it. It is evident that such penetration of wooden struct ures, and especially bridges, might cause their disastrous and unexpected fall. ONE of the most decided impressions whioh non-scientific people must re ceive from the visit of the great comet of 1881 is that of the ignoranoe of sci ence concerning these mysterious visi tants. Whence they come or whither they go are problems none can solve; while the unfulfilled predictions of the return of certain comets show that cal culations in regard to the motions of these bodies partake much of the nature of guesses. With all the skill and tele scopic penetration of our astronomers they cannot yet trace the course of the comet, which in a few days passes across the immeasurable expanse of space viewed from this earth and disappears in the depths beyond, to wander perhaps for thousands of years before completing the cycle of its journey and returning to a point in its orbit near the earth. IN A recent paper Mr. C. Shaler Smith has given the results of extensive obser vations in relation to the pressure ex erted by the wind. The most violent storm recorded by him was at East St. Louis, in 1871, when the wind over turned a locomotive, the maxiam force developed in so doing being no less than 93 pounds to the square foot. At St. Charles, 1877, a jail was destroyed, the wind foroe required being 84 pounds per square foot At M'arshfield, in 1880, a brick mansion was leveled, the foroe necessary being 58 pounds per square foot. Below these extraordinary pressures, Mr. Smith instonoes numer ous cases of trains blown off rails, bridges, etc., blown down by gales of 'wind of 24 to 31 pounds per square foot In all the examples the lowest force required to do the observed damage has has been taken as the maxium force of the wind, although, of course, it may have been higher. Wrestling WRIT ClaSSIc TOrre. The story of the circus man who paid a collegian $10 for providing "mono- hippic aggregation" as a properly im pressive title for his show, and then died of a broken heart at the end of the sea son, when he learned the true meaning thereof, is a story whioh seems likely to enjoy continued popularity in the follow ing form : "A Boston man had just been showing all the sights of that charming city to a New Yorker. 'And now,' said he, ' tell me honestly, is not thiB city thoroughly unique?' • Yes, indeed,' was the reply, 'unus, one, equus, horse.' With this may be compared the re mark of the Sophomore at examination time that if he should lose his pony, he would lose his equilibrium ; because,' as he explained to an awe-stricken Fresh man, "the word comes from equus and librum, and therefore signifies a horse of books." Perhaps it was the same Freshman who, in struggling with an ode of Horace, said: "Care Mo&eenas equen, Maecenas, take care of your horse ; and was favored with the remark : "Oh, no, Mr. C., you pay too much attention to the horse." It was another Freshman to whom the instructor said: "You %eem to be evolving the translation from your inner consciousness;" and who responded: " Well, Professor, i read lat-t evening that 'bv faith jfcuoch was translated,' and I thought I'would try it on Horace." "Don't ycu think it would have been necessary to melt her first?" was the perhaps pardonable inquiry of the Pro fessor when a heedless yonth twisted the text to say: "And they poured Agrip- pina into the sea." "Whose brother ?" was the question put to a lady student who construed Ego ct frater ambulamust "I and brother walk and that lady student absently responded: "Oh, most anybody's," to the great glee of her co-educational comrades. "Champagne," was the reckless reply of a Yale man to the inquiry : " In the expression qui vinum fttgiens vendat, what does vinum fugiens mean?" Limits of the Solar System. The subjoined table gives the distances from the center of the solar system to ; the major planets: { Mean dis'&nce Planets. from guu, mileo. I Mercury 35.560,000 . Venus fitJ.449,000 I Earth 91,875,000 i Mars 139 988. COO ! Jnpiter 478 (Kltf,000 I Saturn 87ti.87«,000 ; Uranus 1.702,375,000 | Neptune '2,7(>(», 103.000 I These are figures of Professor Kirk- wood, who also adds that., "as to the place occupied by the sun and its attend- I ant orbs among the fixed stars, it is suf- ; flcient to remark that Alpha Centauri, presumably the nearest of those lxxlies, , is 7,000 more remote than Nept'ine." j A SIGN painter carried a bill to a law- ' yer for payment The lawyer, after examining it, said: "Do you expect , any painters will go to heaven, if they ! mako sach charges as these ?" " I j never heard of but one that wont," said j the painter, " and he behaved so bad that they determined to turu him out, but, there being no lawyer present to draw up a writ of ejectment, he re mained." NOT that which men do worthily, but what they do successfully, is what his tory makes haste to record.--Boeoh&r* A BBMARKABLB STATKMEHT. ffce Ca a«anl Experltaee a PflMl- •ent MAR HI«de PJifciicj \ The following article from the Democrat and Chronicle, of Bopiiester, N. I., is ®f no «trikinfc a nature, and eman&tM fn» ao ra&ahle ! aooroe, that it i» herewith republished entire, j la addition to the valn&ble matter it contain* 1 it will be found exceedingly interesting : ' To tho Editor of the Democrat and Chronicle: I BIB : My motivan Tor tlic publication of the ! most uiiuHual statement* wlikh fallow ara, irtt, gratitudo for the fact, thai I have beeat saved from a moRt horrible dftth, and, aeoond-- ly, a d CM ire to warn all who read thiH statement, against gome of the most deoeptive influences by which they have ever been surrounded. It I i» a fact that to-day thousand*? of peojda ara within a foot of tha grave and they do not | know it To toil how I was caught away from just this position and to war 11 othera against nearing if, are my objeeta in this -- mnntoa- tfon. On tha first day of June, 1881, I lay at my raaidenoe in this city, aomranded by my friends and waiting for death. Heaven otiij knows tha agony 1 then endured, for words can never de- acribe it. And yet if, a few years previous, any one had told me that I waa to be brought tow, and by m terrible a disease, I should havw eooffed at the idea. I had always been uncom monly strong and healthy, had wrfghod over 200 pounds, and hardly knew, in my own ex perience, what pain or sickoess were. Yery many people who will read this statement real ize at timtM that tbey are anusu&lly tired, and cannot account for it They feel dull and ;«-• definite paina in various parts of the bot'y, and! do not understand it Or ihoy are exceedingly- hungry one day, and entirely without appetita tha next This was jnst the way 1 felt when the relentless malady which had fastened i^eif upon me first bega^i. Still I thought it was nothing; that probably 1 had tsaesi a cold whieh woiid soon pass away. Shortly after tftia I noticed a dull, and at times v neuralgio, pain in my head, but aa it would dome one day and be gone tho next, I paid but little atteution to it. However, my stomaoh was out of order, and my food oiten failed to digest, causing, at times, great inconveniense. let I had no idea, even as a phys cian, that these things meant anything serious or that a monstrouH disease was becoming fixed uj>on me. Candidly, I thought 1 was suffering froia malaria, and BO doctored myself accordingly. But I got no bettor. 1 next noticed a peculutr color and odor from the flui'i3 I was passing-- also that there were large quantities one day aad very littie the next and that a persistent froth and scum appeared upon the surface and a sediment settled at the bottom. And yet I did not realize my danger, for, indeed, seeing these symptoms continually, I finally became aocustomed to them, and my suspicion was wholly difliurmed by ihe fact that I had no pain in tna afflicted organs or in their viciuty. Why 1 should hava been ao blind I cannot •aderbtand. xnore is a ternoie rnture rorau phyatoal neg lect, and impending danger usually brings, a parson to his senses evun thorgh it may then be too late. I realized, at last, my critical con- ditio.i and aroused myself to overcome it. And, Oh ! howiiard I tried! 1 cournlt* d the best inedi- oal skill in the land. I visited all the prominent mineral spriBgs la America and traveled from Maii.e to Californii. Still 1 grew worse. No two physicians agreed as to my malady. One said 1 was troubled with npiniJ irritation; an other, nervous prostration ; another, malaria; another, dyspeix-ria ; another, heart disease; another, general debiiity ; another, congestion of the hase of the brain ; aud so on through a long list of common diseases, the symp toms of all of whioh 1 really had. In this way several years pa*sedj daring all of whioh time 1 was steadily growing worse. My condition bad really become pitiable. Tha slight symptoms I at first experienced w sre de- Vfdoped into terrible and" constant disorders-- the httle twigs of pain had grown to oaks of agony. My Weight nad been reduced from 207 to 130 p-)utidt». My life was a torture to my self and frieads. I could reUin no food upon my stomach, aud lived wholly by injections. I was a hying mass of pain. My pul.ie was un controllable. In my agony 1 frequently ItJi upon the floor, oonvuhavely a-uiohed the car pet and prayed for death. Morphine hail little or no effect in deadening the pain. For six days and nights 1 had the death-premonitory Lic-jouyhi constantly. My uriuu was filled wit& tube oasts and altauneuu 1 was struggling witu Bright's Disease of tha Kidneys in its last kttges. While suffering thus I received a call froaa my pastor, the llev. Dr. Foote, rector of 8t Pam's Church, of this city. I felt that it was our last interview, but in the course of con versation he mentioned a remedy of which I had heard much, but had n«\er used. Dr. Foote detailed to me the many remarkable cures which had come under his observation, by means of this remedy, and urged me to try it As a practicing phvuiosan aud a gradnats •* tha nohuolH, I cherished the prejudice both natural and common with all regular prwrcftioui' ars, and derided the idea of any medicine <mt- slde the regular cnanuels being the least bene ficial. So solicitous, however, was Dr. Foote, that I finally promised I would waive my prej udice and try tho remedy he so highly rtoom- monded. I began its use on the lii'nt day at June and took it aooordlz^ to directions. At first it sickened me; but this I thought was a good sign for one in my debilitated condition, x continued to taka it; tha sickoning sensation departed, and I was able to retain food upon my stomach, la a few days I noticed a decided change for tha better, as also did my wife aud friends. My hiocoughs ooased, and I experienced less pain than formerly. I w«a so rejoicoi at this im- Eroved oondition that upon what I had be-eved but a few days before was my dyicg- i bed, I vowed, in the presence of my family and friends, should I recover I worud botli pnblicly aud private!v mike known this rem edy for the good of humanity, wherever and whenever I had an opportunity. I also deter mined that I would give a course of lectures in the Corinthi»n Academy of Music of this city, stating in fnll the symptoms and almost hopelessness of mv disease, and the remarkable means by whioh 1 have been saved. My im provement was constant from that tune, and is lass than three months I had gain*! 26 pounds in Uesh, became entirely free from pain, and I believe I owe my life and present, condition wholly to Warner's Safe Kidney and Liver Cure, the remedy which I uwed. v Since my recovery I have thoroughly reinves tigated tile subject of kidney difficulties'.and Bright's disease, aud the truths developed are astounding. I therefore state deliberately and as a physician that I believe MOBS THIS OSR- HAIiF THE DEATHS WHICH f/OCUB IN AMERICA ARK CAUSED BY BBIOHT H L»I8KA8K OF TOE KlDNEXS. Thin ruav sound like a ra«h statement, but I ain prepan d to fully verily it. Bright's Disease haa no distinctive symptoms of it* own (indeed, it often develops without any pain whatever in the kidneys or their vicinity), but has the symp toms of nearly every other known complaint Hundreds of people die daiiy, who^e burials are authorized by a physician's cerlilioa teof •' Heart D,sense," "Apoplexy,' '• Paralywp," "Spinal Complaint," "liheuniatism," "Pneumonia," and other common oomplaints, when in reality it was Blight's Dimmiho of the Kidneys. Fow phyiiieianc., i>nd fewer people, realize the extent of this disease or its dangerous and in- Bid.ous nature. It steals into the nystein like a thief, manifests i'.s presence by the commoiuat symptoms, and fastens itself upon the eonsti- tuUo.i before the victim in aware. It is nearly as hereditary as consumption, quite as common and fnllv as fatal. Eutire families, inheriting it Irom their ancestor*, have died, and yet none of the number knew or realized the invnteiii;us power which was removing them. Instead of common symptoms, it often shows none what ever, but brings death midd«nlv. and as »uch is usually anppoi«Kl to be heart diseane. As one who has Buffered, and knows by bitter experi ence what he ssys, I unjiloie every one who reads those word^ not to neglect the slightest symptoms of Kidney difficulty. Certain agony and possible denthVnl be the tmre result of Mich neglect and no one can afford to hazard such chances. I am aware that such an unqualified state ment as this, coming from me, Known as I am throughout the entire land as a practitioner and lecturer, will arouse the surpriMi and pos sible aii:mn.«ity of the medical profusion astonish all with w hom I am acquainted, but I make the foregoing statement* bu«ed upon fa.-ts which I am prepared to produce and truths which I can substantiate to the letter. The welfare of those who may posi«i!)ly suf ferers such as 1 wax, is an ample inducement for me to take the stop I have, aud, if I oan successfully warn others from the d^tujerons path in which I once walki-d, I un wiping to endure all professional and p. r ;on^l conse quence*. J. R HKNIGN, M. D. HOCUKSTER, N. I., Dec. 80, lsai. One of the Symptoms. Somebody asks what is friendship? It is usually lending a ft How five dollars, and then seeing liim >iodxe you in the streets, and tails you down behind your back to get you mad enough tc not spook to him again.--Syracuse Timet. L&ri.ANr»BBS never -wait upon a soper- or without a present, *