Ligonier Banner., Volume 15, Number 20, Ligonier, Noble County, 2 September 1880 — Page 3

The Ligonier Banner,

; Pt o R e TT e J. B. STOLL, Editor and Prop’n

LIGONIER, ~ * : : “INDIANA.

TWO SAT DOWNX.

Two sat down in the morning time, . One to sing and one to spin. - All men listened the song sublime, But noone listened to the dull>wheel’s din.

The singer she sat in a pleasant nook, ¢ And sang of a life that was fair and sweet, While the spinner sat with steadfast look, *Busily plying her hands and feet. :

The sipgersang on with arosein her hair, - _And all men listened her dulcet tone; - And the spinner spun on with a dull despair -Pown in her heart as she sat’alone. |

But, lo! on.the morrow no one said Aught of thesinger or what she sang. Men were saying, ** Behold this thread !’ And loud-the prais¢ of* thespinner rang.

The world has. forgotten the singer’s name— Her rose is faded. her songs are old: S But far o’er the ocean’'the spinner's faine - Yet is blazoned in lines of gold. Py —Ela Wheeler, in the Indianapolis Hevald.

COUNTRY COUSINS.

- Miss Edith' Everleigh flung herself petulantly down . in the nearest chair, and declared that she was “ mad’— just as mad as she could live. . Under ordinary circumstances, Miss Edith Everleigh, so far as outward appearances went, was a.very charming specimen of young maidenhood. But present circumstances, in the light of _her nineteen years’ experience, she re- . garded as altogether extraordinary, and therefore, if taken to task for her puckered brow and pouting lips would “have averred that they were quite justifiable. - L ! B © “Ido think it's too mean for anything,” she went on, *‘ when all of my set are going to such nive places, that Yve got to pok_o off- to that _stupid old farm, forty miles from nowhere. I hate the country, and farmers are a set of - boors and papa is an old tyrant to make me go out there among them.” X * Edith!. - Edith!”’ exclaimed. her ‘mother in a reproving voice, ** why will < you be so unreasonable? You know {)r. Halsey said emphatically that you ‘must have rest and quiet this summer, - neither of which is to *be obtained at the fashionable resorts where you ' wish to go. . Your father esteems very high- ' ly these chusins of his; they ¢ome of an excellent family, and are, I doubt not ~ most estimable people. Your prejudice ¢ against them is extremely childishywait ' until you/have seen them before you demounee them as ‘boors.’” |" |, ¢ !~ Miss Edith's only response 4vas a disd:zi'nfull' shrug of her shoulders. _ . - Meanwhile, far away from this temvestuous scene, with a background of ~ looming hills and towering trees and a - canopy of shaded gold and blue, amidst the hush :and stillness of midsummer rural evening time, was occurring another scene which also bears upon the . further development of our story. = ~ Seated on. the low, broad dodrstone, « . June Thornton was bending her shapely little head over a big sheet of paper that had stamped in its upper left-hand corner, ‘* Benjamin,Everleigh’s Dry and Fancy Goods Emaporium,” with a certain street and number of the great metropolis aflixed, and was traced in a business man’s heavy scrawl. : - - ~ Reading slowly .in the waning light - she floundered though some reminis- * cences of older’times appreciated only by the writer and recipient of: this mis-’ - isive, and then, beginnifig a new paragraph, continued: ~ [, . - **And we ought to renew ‘auld ac- . quaintance,’> Cousin John.” Iwant our “children to become as fast friends as we ourselves were in those fartoft days. Pursuant to which T purpose, if agreea-. ble to you, to send my elutfs;t: daughter out to your place for a long visit. She is. - rather worn with the festivities of ‘the ~winter, and I think a few weeks of: country air and living will benefit her, as well as give her an opportunity to. ‘know those whom her father holds in ~affectionate remembrance.” . L © ¢“So that is father’s cousin, Ben Everleigh, the famous crony of his boyhood, is it?” reflectively spoke Hal Thornton, June's auditor, lounging on the step above her. ¢ And they've been each so. busy with his own life for 1 -thelast five-and-twenty years that they ~ haven’t once met in all that time. Well, - to such end comes youthful friendship in this world of ‘ours.” o ¢ But the proposed guest, Hal,” interrupted June, nud%ing his kneée with . her elbow. o ' ; “You dbn’t want her to come, little’ sister,”’ he said, gently taking in his: hands the upturned face ‘usually as - sweet and bonny as the month whose name its owner bore, but now showing through the gathering shadows an un-

* mistakable troubled look. ~ *tl've heard of Miss Edith Everleigh,” ' evasively replied ‘June. ¢ She was a - schogl-mate of Clara Burton’s no longer ago timn‘ last year and Clara said she _hever saw a person so arrogantly prejudiced against the country and country people as she was.’” - ‘ . “* And my precious little sister thinks herself just as good and quite as cultivated and almost as stylizp as if sie had . been bourn and bred in Néw York!"”’ © June laughed merrily. - . ‘“And she don’t want to be taken for -a goose and snubbed and put down by Miss Flora MecFlimsy, of Madison + Square,”’ went onHal, . - - June laughed again; then followed an interval of silence in which the former dejected expression crept back to her counténance and whejein Hal with uplifted eyes absently “surveyed the . heavens. o : . *““The thing, exactly.” he. at last:exclaimed, and stooping ‘over June till his, dark mustache brushed her pink shell of an ear, he eagerly whispered out his bright.idea. . 7 June clasped her white palms one against the other, afid glz}ve voice to a prolonged ‘‘O-00-0! Hal Thornton, what a lark! But’’—suddenly consciencestricken—*¢ wouldn’t it be too mean?”’ ~ ‘“ Little tender-heart!” in pseudopathos; then resuming his usual tone, .*No, not if I have received a correct impression of my adorable third cousin the haughty Miss Edith. Personally, I owe the type a bit of a grudge, and ~ P'll get even with it through the person of one of its extremest representatives. Beside, for her own sake, she .ought to “have the conceit knocked out of her, ~even if she is a woman'young and handsome.’ l - . ' # Bwtfithei’ and mother ne rer will

allow such doings, Hal,” decisively added June. : = o :

O, we can manage that; getthem off on their intended trip to Harley before she arrives.. It won't take more than a week. to cure her. So put your doubts and fears in your pocket, June; keep mum and get ready for action.” | ‘And kindly John Thornton, ignorant and unsuspecting of this base plotting in his ‘own household, his honest old heart stirred and warmed by the tardy but welcome word from the long-silent friend of his early years, dispatched next morning a. letter to Cousin Ben, assuring him of continued interest and aftection ‘and bidding him ‘to let his daughter come to the farm at once.

- Five days later Miss Edith Everleigh left her Eden behind—her father’'s word the flaming sword that turned every way, preventing a present re-entrance.

** Go to scoff and remain to praise,’” jocularly said her brother, along with his géod-bye.. ‘¢ We shall find our fine drawing-room lady transformed into an Arcadian shepherdess next thing we know.? Loy B

~ Foranswer Miss Edith flashed an in‘dignant glance out of eyes suspiciously red. | - s e | On the affernoon of this same day that witnessed her reluctant departure from home, the 'habitues and Ibungers {@t the rural station of Fernside were a ood deal astonished by the peculiar ap-, pearance of the usually exquisite Hal Thornton. Sans coat and vest, sans collar and. tie, with jean pantaloons shrunk to the extent of a very noticeable display of bare ankle, huge brogans, a slouched felt hat, August though it was, and his erect figure drawn to a considerable stoop. A rickety old wagon and a superannuated horse accoutered in a méch tied-up and pieced-out harness constituted his turnout. - 1

When presently the city express swept in and came to a standstill and Hal knew - intuitively . which of the half dozen feminine passengers descending from the train was ske, he more than half repented him of the part he had rather carelessly assumed to play. That trim little lady, fresh and dainty as a newly-opened - daisy—despite several hours of railway travel on a hot and dusty summer’s day—carrying herself S 0 pr%udly, excited a thrill, of admiration in the susceptible young heart beating under-the calico shirt front. - ‘““Her face is lovely and 'isn’t red, her crimps are perfection and are not sout,’ her collar is clean and isn’t limpsy and that gown—why, it's divine!” he thus mentally summed her up, adding, ¢ I declare, I almost wish I hadn't.”” L :

All this, however, .was seen and thought on the “instant, and the next, determined anew .to see this thing he had undertaken through at any sacri-fice-of self, advancing with an ungainly stride he grasped the fair damsel’s im-maculately-gloved: hand and holding it in"a vise-like grip, exclaimed ih.a loud, hearty voice, ‘“Cousin E-dit/, how du you du? FPm proper glad ter see. ye, even if 'tis for the fust time.”’

~ Miss KEdith Everleigh drew back in amazement. ‘‘Excuse me,” she coldly said.” "**l expected Mr. John Thornton to meet me. Are you his man???

= ¢Ya T his ‘man—his man—haw-haw-haw; that’s the biggest joke er the season. His man, why bless- yer purty eyes I'm his son an’ yer own third cousin, at yer service, mom. My great gran’ma an’ yer great gran’pa had four elbows, so they say,”’ again laughing coarsely. L e v

Misp Edith Everleigh's, heart sank within her. This was infinitely worse than she had exvected.

- -I\‘geanwhile t‘hé fellow, smirking and smiting in hospitable ardor, got her trunk into his antiquated . vehicle and there remained .no alternative but to herself clamber, with his awkwardlyextended assistance, into the old rattlerap:. i .

“Now,” he exclaimed, when they were fairly upon the road, throwing' an arm over the low back of the wagon seat and leaning toward her with an obtrusive air of good fellowship, ¢ Now it's I an’ you,. Edith, an™ I've got er chance for a fair squint at ye. I’spect we shall be great cronies yit. An’ you'n June'll take a sicht er comfort tergether. June’s jist at;lout your age. I should reckon”-—speculatively running her over with a hali-closed eye. ‘““Yes, jist about; six years younger'n I'be; I an' she’s runnin’ the shanty alone while pa an’ ma’s gone on a little visit ter Aunt Sary’s. ‘“ But du tell a‘feller somethin ’bout New Yawk,” he presently broke out, changing the subject: - You must be 'quainted with most all the folks there. Der they have any fust-class circusses, an’ what kind of a lookin’ animile’s the Pinnyfore 't they tell on 8’ much?” ° Ere Miss Edith could gather words“to reply, her escort drew rein before a nicely appointed, well-kept villa, and announced, himself at home. L _ With an'inward chuckle he noted the young lady’s surprised glance from himself to the tastefully-arranged lawn, gay with bright-blooming flowers, fronting the handsome and rather stately house as if she found it puzzling to reconcile one with the other. . s

Into a somewhat disordered kitchen, evidently dining and sitting-room as well, where, with .downcast eyes. and bashful mien, the, for the time, youthful mistress of the establishment waited, the visitor was ushered. ¢ How pretty the girl would be, if only”’—Miss Edith thought, the qualifying ‘only”’ having reference. to the nondescript coiffure into which her hostess’s abundant brown hair was pulled and twisted, and the illfitting, botehed-up dress that maltreated her perfect form; . ‘ June Thornton proving as shy and silent as her brother was forward and loquacious, and Miss Edith being too homesi¢k and disgusted to try to talk, ‘their ‘acquaintance- progressed but slowt}y. | ' . At supper the voluble Hal again appeared. - Sitting down at the /table in his former dishabille and with unkempt head,g;with his knife proceeding to shovel in his food, masticating it with a distinctly audible sound and a general display ot tongue and tooth—pouring his tea into his saucer, blowing it with the force of a pair of bellows and gulping it down at one immense swallow—stretching half his length across the board ang with his fork spearing articles beyond his reach—his presence was fairly sickening to the finical guest to whom the sligfitest violation oi the proprietics was an unpardonable sin. .

It was an exceedingly doleful epistle that Miss Edith Everleigh sent gome next day. ‘< Do let me come back, papa; Ireally cannot bear it. Anywhere but here I am willing to go,” it concluded, = | , ;

¢t Certainly, my child, come back if yotu are not contented; I thought you would like it when once you were there,”” Benjamin Everleigh in due time replied, touched by .theé pitiful plaint and wondering vaguely into what kind of persons the second generation of Thorntons must have degenerated. . The days succeeding her arrival developed no more agreeable state of ak fairs at the farm. The only apartments of the large dwelling into which Miss Edith saw were the afore-mentioned kitchen, ,a room adjoining furnished with a rag carpet and stiff wooden chairs an§ decorated with numerous high-colored chromas, an abomination to her artisiic eye, and her own room cheerless and bare. So curious concerning the unopened part of the mansion did she grow as to once or twice stealthily, when unobserved, endeavor to turn the door-knobs and get a peep within. - Under lock, however, they yiclded not to her touch and she became no wiser foriher pains. A long storm denied her, for awhile, the relief of out-of-doors. . The few people who came to the house she was-never asked to meet. She was disgusted and unhappy; but more, she was mystified and suspicious. There was pver and anon borne to her ear the tantalizing sounds of mutlied conversation and suppressed laughter. There. were significant' smiles and niieaning glances frequently exchanged.” The very air, in fact, seemed instinct with an indefinable somgthing. - Miss Edith Everleigh was batiled and she did not find the situation a pleasant one. Accustomed to being mistress of the situation, the situation—distasteful and paltry, too—appeared now to be mistress of her. While she, without much effort at concealment, was despising these ignoramuses, she believed they were secretly making fun of her. v On reeeipt of her father's letter she declared her intention of immediately returning home. To this Hal protested loudly and June raised a timid opposition. | . :

~ An invitation to visit her school friend Clara Burton, who lived only a few miles distant, reaching Miss Edith at this time, at length decided her to protract her stay sufficiently for a couple of days at the Burton’s. v - ¢« Wall, 'go over ter Clarry’s ter-mor-rer; then,” Hal said; ‘‘ stay all night an’ bring Clarry back with ye the next arternoon, an’ in the evenin’ we'll have kind of a breakdown for ye, seein 's boun’ ter put ’er right back ter the city. All the boys ’s dyin’ fer a chance ter cut me out, but I cal’late I've got the inside track, Edith. Howsomever I’'m willin’ they should have a smack er tu, if’t comes fair'n the game. Der yer like Copenhagen purty well?’’ Miss Eilith flushed angrily and Hal discreetly took himself out of ‘the way in season to escape the sharp rebuke he was not too obtuse to see was pending. I o ‘ The following morning, in his crazy old wagon he drove her to the station in talk and actions, meantime, exciting her repugnance. to the highest pitch.

Arrived at the Burton home an hour later, Miss Everleigh felt herself, by contrast with what she had left behind, in a paradisiacal atmosphere. She wondered that she had never before noticed what an exceptionally sweet and ladylike girl Clara- Burton was. In the country, on a farm and among farmerfolks, she ‘was forced to admit to herself existed taste, refinement, culture and happiness. - O, why were not all like the Burtons! : o :

Very readily, to Miss Edith’s. astonishment, Clara, consented to accompany her back, never once, by word or look, intimating that she considered the Thornton young .people undesirable companigns. - b A% the train drew up at Fernside depot, Miss Edith looked with a sinking spirit for the dreaded appearance of her host. He was nowhere to be seen. ~ 'The next instant, a young gentleman of elegant proportion and build, *¢ all shaven and shorn,” like the priest in the story of the house that Jack built, and in a toilet that no Broadway elothier ecould take exception at, was gallantly assisting her down the steps, politely murmuring *¢ Welcome home,”’ and respectfully greeting 'Miss Burton. Miss Edith Everleigh so far forgot her manners as to come to a full stop, midway between the train and platform and indulge in a prolonged stare atthis stranve apparition. A Prince Camaralzaman now, she nevertheless unmistakably identified him as the boorish Hal Thornton of the day before. ‘

But neither Clara Burton nor Thornton himself seemed conscious of any metamorphosis having taken place. Perfectly at ease he led the way to where his carriage and Yvell-matched span of coal black horses waited to convey the party to the farm. : There at the gate stood June, smiling and cordial. Robed in a dainty muslin of charming design and faultless fit and finish, with a garniture of. filmy lace and floating ribbons, her soft brown locks clinging to her broad white brow in most bewitching little kinks and curls and knotted in classic coils above her graceful neck, she was a pretty picture to look upon. g o

¢ Now run right up stairs to your room, girlies; the door is open. You have only just time to dress while brother and myself lay the table,”’ she said. " It was a perfect maiden’s bower—all ‘blue and white—in which Miss Edith Everleigh found her belongings sarra¥ed. ; 3 astening through a change of apparel, still dazed and wondering, she ‘went below to explore the now wideopen house. : ; An open piano littered with the latest musie, an ample book-case filled with the standard works of history, biography, fiction and poety, fresh periodicals, pictures to delight a connoisseur, artistic ornaments, harmonious upholstery and hangings, a tasteful set of dining-room furniture, with a floorcovering that need not offend the m‘osg fastidious, in place of the rag-carpet an stiff woodén chairs, were among the things she discovered. v ‘ Soon the guests of the evening began to arrive. A baker’s-dozen they counted when all together—young men and

maidens in whose persons, manners and costumes Miss Edith Everleigh, try as hard as she might, could find but little at which to cavil. Reposeful, self-con-tained, yet apt and bricht, they had something worth the saying to say and they said it in well-chosen langunge, without lapse of grammar. Better than herself, she saw, they knew of the great world’s work and interests; more carefully than she then had thought out and settled the weighty " questions of life, Watching and listening, she was struck with a sudden sense of her owa superficiality and flimsiness. '

Under the drooping branches of a giant elm standing in the yard Hal and June and Clara Burton deftly served the assembled company to refreskiments from the abundant spread of homemade delicacies prepared by .June’s eflicient hands. 'Then, while they all lingered around the festal board, gaily chatting over their empty plates, the daylight slowly faded out in the west and the big yellow moon came noiselessly up behind the apple-trees. Its soft beams, flooding everything without, seemed to blend with and become part of the subdued light from the lowturned, porcelain-shaded lamps within, and everywhere Mang the music -and laughter of that merry band. : When finally the last loiterer had departed and Miss Edith Everleigh way momentarily left alone, she stole across the grounds and threw herself down on a rustic seat placed at their farther ex tremitys If she had been mystified be fore she was hopelessly confounded now. - What did it all mean? Vainly pondering, and just at the point of the inevitable feminine ‘¢ good cry,” she lifted her eyes to behold Hal Thornton standing by the other arm of the settee. In her absorption she had not noticed his light footfall on the velvety turf. She instantly arose, perceptibly flushing and paling in the moonlight and moved toward a- hasty retreat. Her anger and mortification would not let her stay. The man, whatever he was, had deceived and made a fool of her. He should not have the second-chance to do it. - : Thornton gravely uncovered hishead. “Don’t run_away, please,” he pleadingly said, ‘I thave been looking for vou. I want to tell you something and to beg your pardon.”’ - - Miss' Edith wavered a moment, then rather ungracionsly resumed her seat, half turning her back upon the intruder.

#+ln common with most town-bred people, even the best and most sensible of them’—he went.on, but coming no nearer to her—¢¢ I think that you, Miss Everleigh, huve underrated the people of the country.. 1 venture to say you came here secretly despising us and expecting to find us of a caste lower than your own. ' Now, for truth’s sake ive me an honest answer;didn’t you?”’ ?»hc seriously questioned. o /It was a quavering little ¢ Yes”’ that broke the night’s stillness and yet given as absolutely as if at confessional.

~ Miss Edith Everleigh . could mever quite understand what force impelled her to the utterance of that humiliating monosyllable. s - -

¢t Believing this,”” Thornton continaued, ¢“ and out of patience with the blind prejudice that underlay it all, I recklessly resolved that you should not be disappointed. With the result you are conversant. Ido not at all seek to justify nayself. It was an ungentleman; ly, mean and abominable thing to do. I am heartily sorry for and ashamed at it, + Will you forgive me?"’ : No answer, though Thornton bent his head to listen. - . ; ¢“I shall be very miserable if you do not,’”” he humbly said, breaking a silence that was growing dreadful. - ; A smothered sob -escaped from behind the lace-edged handkerchief pressed to Miss Edith Everleigh’s tace, but still no word was spoken. ; Thornton began to feel himself a monster. : ;

Presently he advanced toward the drooping Niobe, and gently lifted theg disengaged hand lying on her lap.. .Unrestrained he held the waxen thing for an appreciable instant in his own broad and somewhat hardened palm, then drew it within his arm, saying with a mild authority. " :

«“ Come, let us go in'how. You will be drenched with the dew sitting here; besides, poor innocent June, my unwilling tool and accomplice also anxiously awaits your pardon. In the morning, I shall telegraph to your father thatyou will remain with: us longer;’—thTs Thornton confidently asserted as the two strolled slowly up the walk. ‘ ~ Time fails me to tell of the happy weeks that followed; of how thoroughly convinced Miss Edith Everleigh became that life in a rural community might, and generally did,;mean more than cattle and acres and crops, the signs of wet or dry and the price of eggs and butter; or of how she grew to delight in all the varying phases of Nature and the refining, uplifting influences of her beneficent companionship. - ; - All things earthly must come to an end and pleasant visits, though long protracted, cannot last forever. Miss Edith Everleigh was at last compelled to tear herself away from the Thornton farmhouse. - :

On the evening preceding her departure when, as on that other evening so vividly remembered. the golden moonlight glorified all -without; she was again—curiously enough at first it seemed—intercepted at the rustic seat in the .yard. By Hal Thornton, too, who as before now sought her with a purpose—to tell her something and to crave a boon. This time, however, it was not a tale of base deception that he had. to relate; but that o‘lc{), old story, so often told yet ever to be told anew, and sweetest every time it is heard, and the gift he begged for was not her pardon but her love. ;i i Benjamin Everleth and John Thornton very soen understood that.their wish, for as fast friendship between their children as was ence between them, had been to the.uttermost fulfilled.— Examiner and Chronicle.

—A wretched woman, brought lately to a London police court, proved to be the wife of an ex-officer of the army. She is of excellent birth, has been presented at court,and is very accomplished, but can’t keep from the gin bottle. The magistrate suggested an inebriate asylum, but it was explained that her consent was ‘necessary, and that she wouldn’t giveit. Ultimately her hus. band came fot her. ey "

MISCELLANEOUS.

- —Of a population of 1,750,000 in Massachusetts, nineteen cities have 920,000.

—ln the choir of the Presbyterian Church at Penn Yan, N. Y., they clash a pair of cymbals. e -

—The peach crop in Middle Georgia is an almost total failure and such a scarcity was never known in the Macon market. £ i : et

—Three-fourths of the Parisians arg} poor. There are in the city 684,952 lodgings, of which 648,641 are let for less than eighty dollars a year. | -

‘—lt was found in Manchester, England, that the draiping and pavin%' of twenty streets diminishes the mortality to the extent of twenty in 110. . —During a storm, last month, at Norance, in Switzerland, lightning struck one of two little girls sleeping in the same bed and instantly killed her, without even touching or awaking the other. el B o

—MKit Carson, a sqn of the famous scout, says that he and Henry M. Stanley of African ;renown’ once clipped sheep at two cents a head in’ New Mexico, and worked with a team near Ogden. Utah, for $l5 a month.

—The true Egyptian lotus is blooming in Selden’s Cove, on the Connecticut River below Hartford, Conn., where it is said to have sprung from some seéds dropped from Egyptian tags bound-for paper mills up the river.

—A Saratoga letter says: The itall and rather distinguished looking lady whom one may sometimes see on the Grand Union piazzais Mrs A. T. Stewart. She dresses plainly but richly and is very affable in her manners, though a slight deafness is somewhat embarragsing to her in company. | | —According to the Journal de St. Petersbourg, Samara, one of the most fertile grain-growing provinces of Russia, is again threatened with famine. The wheat crop has been almost totally destroyed by insects and the authorities of Bousoulouk, one of the desolated districts, have applied to the Imperial Government for the sum of 2,000,000 francs to save the population from starvation. —Tears, .chemically considered, are a weak solution of chloride of sodium and phosphate of lime, the overtlow of the lachrymal glands, caused by the contraction of certain muscles, | A writer who has analyzed them ‘‘asa weapon says. ‘“The best method is to hold the head erect, look the ¢ruel tyrant in the face, and let the tears iow down while the lips feign a smile. 1f the head be bent forward the tears will be likely to run down the nose and drop off at the end and that spoils the whole thing, for the éyes get red and the nose sympathizes with the general moisture and gets a sort of raw _look'at the end. [To use tears with effect requires, in fact, judgment. The effectiveness is gone as soon as any ‘mopping’ begins. . X light hysterical sniffie may be permitted, if artistically executed, with a gasping sob, but no polishing off of eyes or nose is admissible.” n i

Cured by Fasting.

A young lady named Dehart, at Port Mariner, - Staten Island, has recently passed through a fast of thirty-two days without food or water. The fast ended about a week ago. It was not voluntary, but ‘was carried out by the recommendation and under the surveillance of her attending physician, for the cure of ulcers in the stomach. The cure has been effected. The young lady is now rapidly recovering and gaining flesh at the rate of one pound per day’. " Her weight during the ordeal was reduced from 120 to ninety-five pounds. During the first two weeks she suffered seveérely from lack of food. At one time she succeeded in evading orders through the ignorance of a new attendant, but succeeded only in obtaining water, which she sucked from a wet cloth, At another time, when left momentarily alone, she obtained a few drops from g fioblet held out of the window during a eavy shower.—N. Y. Graphic. . .

Rapid Telegraphy --- One Thousand

Words a Minute.

- A few days ago the American Rapid Telegraph Company opened its office for business on Devonshire Street, near the Old State House. It holds patents which it is claimed enable it to send messages at the rate .of a thousand words a minute, by methods which are probably familiar to the public from previous descriptions. In brief, messages are prepared by perforating machines; the perforations are arranged conventionally into létters, and all t%lat is required of the operator is turning a wheel—the messages appearing as perforations on continuous strips of paper at the receiving end. The main work of transmission is in making the perforations at the sending end, and in transcribing into writing (or type-writer copy).at the receiving end. The company was organized last year in- New York, but the officers are all Boston men. At present about seventy-five persons constitute the entire force at each end of the wire. A line is being put up between New York and Washington, and several New England cities will be brought into the. system soon. The company controls about a dozen patents which are of service in this method of telegraphy. - Besides the patents which will be used for land telegraphing, there is an independent system for ocean eables which will admit the same method of perforations to use on them. Itis as promising as the land system, and will enable one cable to do the work of five under the.w};t)lresient” system. It was invented by the same man who invented the rapid system of telegraphy, and the instruments for its application will cost several thousand dollars apiece. It is called the ¢ metrical system,”’ because the dispatches are sent and charged for, by measure—so much a yard. Mr. Reed owns these cable patents personally, and also the right to use the land-patents in Europe, and his brother-in-law has alllreé,dy gone abroad to introduce them there. . : :

As the business of the company develops the lines will be extended to the West. A line is in contémplation to Chica%o, but it is not decided whether to build the coming fall or in the spring. It is the expectation to join all the great Western cities with the East ultimately. As the rate of transmission is a thousand words a minute, whereas

the ordinary method can send only twenty-five, the great saving in time and expense is at once apparent.—Boslon Advertiser, - -7 T f s | Rare American Coins. =~ Said Mr. E. F.‘Gambs, a St. Louis numismatist, to a Chroniéle reporter: - . Those who have a weakness for collecting old and rare coins are génerally men of wealth who indulge fillt as a pleasant pastime. = They can afford to pay.handsome prices for rareties and become. amateur numismatists. The principal coin center of the United States is Philadelphia, mainly because the nf,ut is situated there. In Eastern cities, such-as New York and Boston, coin-collecting is more indulged in than in the South or West. . There are about one htindred journals devoted to the coin and stamp interest published in the Uaited States. - The prices of rare coins fluctuates considerably from time to time. : Probably the rarest coin is the silver dollar of:1804.. There are said, on good authority, to be only six .of them in the whole world. Their market value is all the ‘way from $3OO to %700. About- two. years ago Mr. Gambs ran across -a half-dime’ of the year 1802, which was an unusually fine .specimen. He sold it for 850 to Wm. P. Brown, of New York, who shortly afterwards refused $2OO for it, thinking that it would bring more at auction. : It was sold at auction for £147.50 and. changed hands againfor sl7b. - Mol an g Sl

~ The second rarest American coin is the half-dollar of 1852. They were only coined at the Philadelphia Mint. Cents. and half-dollars are -the principal eoins looked after by coin collectors, more of these denominations being sold than any other. ' Very scarce are the old copper pennies of 1793, 1799, 1 1804 and 1809, The half-cents which were eoined from 1793 to 1857 for some dates within that .period ' bring - handsome prices., General W. T. Sherman is said to be a great collector of coins, and. the late King Victor Emanuel and A. T. Stewart, the great dry-goods merchant, were both active stamp collectors. In New York, Philadelphia and Boston auction sales of collections are frequently held.

The Disadvantage of Wealth in the ' . Bringing up of Children.

We have no doubt, whatever, that, in this generation especially, the well-to-do have much nrore difficulty in bringing up their children than the strugglers have. Formerly* this was not so much the case, because -the necessity for strong discipline was so thoroughly-ac-knowledged that it was maintained al« "most without an effort, and the habit of obedience was enforced by practically irresistible authority. Butthe specialty of to-day is to concede freedom in all directions, and especially freedom to children and those who are subordinate. Discipline in any strong form is, among large classes, and over:.great tracts ot the world, nearly dead. The bad effect of that change-—we do not mean the _change from severity to Kindliness, but the change from studious' government to comparative inattention—is very great, but is partly concealed by the fact that poverty acts- as a disciplining atmosphere. It fixes conditions rigidly. The girl must learn to do hel{()\'ml-«?lress-making or. go untidy. The boy mnust go to work, or theére will not be enough and to that particular work; for only t%le rich have much:choice of occupations.: Economy is imperative, for the money is not there, and no training in selfsacrifice acts daily, hourly, momentarily, like compulsory economy. The will is compressed by the. facts of life and becomes at once strong and pliable like leather. With the rich -that discipline is absent and cannot be artificially produced; and the young have only conscious ‘¢ training,’” in the athlete’s sense, from direct authority, which, as ‘we said, it is'the tendency of the age to relax. The result is hot only that the passions, especially the passion of selfwill, grow teo strong, though that is so clear as to have become a truism; but that among both good and bad a certain bonelessness of character is-appar-ent, a certain indisposition to endure, or to form strong purposes asto the work of a life; a certain want pot so much of energy as of deeision - and pertinacity. The children of the strugglers very-often fail utterly, either from inherént defects of character or from insuperable obstacles of position;. but more of them win than the children of the well-off, and; taken as a body, they have stronger and finer characters. “As their children .grow up the well-to-do-find them more burdensome, more diffi- . cult to manage, more trouble to ¢ set--tle,”’ than the poorer do; are more anxious for their future and more displeased ‘with their defects of character and conduct, which, indeed, from the absence of the pressuré-of circumstances; are - much greater. With the very rich, anxiety about their children, erosses of different kinds inflicted by them and their frequent total failures, makeup, we believe, a definite and separate source of pain;and even with the well-off, greatly increase the burden of life, just at a time when burdens are most-anxiously avoid- - ed. . A man has not gained much in the struggle of life whose" children are protffiga,te,- babyish, = characterless, or given up to selfishness; and that is far more often the lot of the rich than of the poor and constitutes at least. one- ¢« pinch of wealth.””— Londor Spectator. L S Egqulres®s o . The Canada Legal News reports the case of Bradley against‘Logan., ‘The action was brought on a promissory note by a citizen of the United States. The plaintiff described himself as ¢¢ Es--quire,”’the law requiring that the plaintiff. shall state his occupation or quality. The defendant objécted that the plaintiff gave himself no title. It was proved that there is no such title in this country. Butthe €ourt said: -¢* The exception of the Gefendant is wanting in this, that it does not say in what respect the description is defective. It complains of the total want of description; but the quality of esquire is sufficient in itself, and in .our law. has a significance, and I see no proof that the plaintiff is not an esqnire as we understand, tgholghthe title has no significance in the United States.”” Abbott’s Law, Dictionary slz?&s': ol ii's'-fnmilia,rlyl-‘emp’io' ed in the niged States but,‘:iS'a‘,Litle‘oty ‘courtesy merely.”? Webster says it,s,ié ‘g general title of respect in addressing-letters.’’—~ Albany Low Jowrnad, -~ . -