Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 January 1877 — Page 6

Private Woes.

"K wer. «bl« to low llic DmM <(«w agwm mtolake, awl •a most of the rest of the race are busy with the thread of their own discourse*; and *<hat although they turn to listen to our plaint, and even to give us a share of sympathy and pity, it is quite as a matter aside, an affair as much of self-respect as Of respect for ns, and they are presently hurrying on with their own affairs again almost ai indifferently as nature herself seems to hurry. But even allowing that the sympathy Is very great, given for a long time, without stint and actively felt, there comes an end to all things, and perpetual draughts most only reach the lees of that. If one Is going to demand sympathy forever, one should oe very careful as to the manner in which it is demanded, as it is no impossibto thing to wear out the patience even of those tw live us most. Real troubles can never fail to receive file tribute of warm and enduring compassion; but real troubles do not last forever, nor are tiny the ones concerning which dhe* most rout fa made, for deep sorrow is -ant to nook*) wrap itself in silence, and •of the literally cureless diseases of the tody, these the sufferer conceals to the Mat passible moment, and those, by the «iy fever they emjte in the blood, kindle • Jbeerfulness. * We hte so constituted, ’ Jboth physically and spiritually, that under too heavy a burden for us to bear we sink and fail; and reri trouble of any amount wears us out, Ali|it of body or of soul, before any of lime, aud puts an end to any neeu of sympathywears us out before we have a chance to wear patience out. It is, except for very rare and phenomenal cases, the unreal troubles, the actually slight ones, t those to be in some measure avoided, mitigated, or overlooked, that Me spread before other people with loudest iteration &n 4 demand for sym partly. Th»s is especially to 6e noticed in cases •of partial illness, where much discomfort is experienced, some pain, great weariness, perhaps, yet not positive danger; but you will observe that where there is an invalid suffering such illness,' no guest enters the door who fa not hospitably en- . treated with a detailed accountof that invalid's least symptoms—and unless the guest he nurse or physician, to what result? It im even then ten to one if the complainer >be well listened to, the first words having some similar instance in the , guest's experience, impatience to recount which, according to the very same tendency, dulls the ear to all the rest of the sickly recital. It is, perhaps, exceedingly sad and dreary to be obliged to suffer as this invalid does; we pity greatly; but •when the Invalid still lives on, growing no worse, we sometimes feel obliged to huslt&nd our resources, and to question If wood taste would not try to wear the bright face instead of saddening the world with the darkest side. In reality, we are most of us inclined to sympathize generously with sorrow, with injustice, vtfthpuin; bat the instinct of sclf-preeer-vMM prevents our being able, if we are willing, 1 to endure a too prolonged strain, and it may be pronounced as an axiom that the individual receives the best and sareat sympathy who makes the least outciy and bears rae sad lot with fortitude. There SCre, indeed, many sorrows and troubles of which the old proverb, Leak said, soonestmenfied,” holds true. There are some things best hidden in secret • receptacles, with the lid shut down, rather than aired in the sight of all. Whoever wears a happy face'does a service to hu- . sanity; for it is infinitely better that the world should feel full of sunshine titan of gloom; that the general heart should be lifted in gratitude rather than abased Witfi rankling injury; and happiness, meanwhile, or its semblance, begets happiness, like a dollar at usury, and enritohes the morel w orld as sunshine does earth. It is a little singular, withal, that the .possessors of these numerous private wOos —private ? one should rather say public!—so frequently forget common selffespect. What would the samelndividuals say of the beggar who goes about show ‘fair his sorest And are tony doing any dlfferenily ? Are they not exhibiting a corresponding sort of uncleanness, the same want of modesty and shame, making themselves, as for as in them lies, and 'With the mere difference—and not always 'that —that ecists between the ills of body and of mind, as loathsome in all comparative degree ? The chief thing to be done in this regard by those who consider themselves the victims of any remarkable affliction is al- • ways to remember that, in spite of all -kindness shown, nobody is so interesting •to another as he is to himself, and that -dignity requires one to keep one’s sorrows, as well as one’s joys, rather sacred than • otherwise. As a rule, in the ecstasies of f -our great happiness or our great grief, we to-be alone. Why in our small happinesses and small griefs do we need to much more companionship * It seems as if one must, after all, be the possessor of a very reassuring amount of vanity to suppose that one should receive more -consideration or consolation from one’s acquaintances titan Job did from his friends.— Harper't Bator.

The Ashtabula Horror-Story of a Lady Passenger.

Miss M. Shepard, iff Ripon, Wis., one «f the survivors of toe Ashtabula disaster, gives ths following accountof her experience to the Chicago Tt ibune: “ I hada berth fa tea sleeping car ’Paltrtioc. There were twenty passengers on the car; two ladies when we started and two more afterward. A very severe snow storm set in at Rochester, and we all expected to be snowed in. At Ashtabula bridge we were three or four hotup behind; this was between eight and pine o’clock in the evening. I think we were running faster than we dida few moments previously. The people in the car were •talking, eating, or playing cards, and the first warning of any impending danger was given os by a candle being knocked •down, the glass in the lamps being shattered and the bell-rope breaking. The other lights fell, there was a bump, then -A horrible crash. “ A gentleman near me said, 4 Oh! my •Ood, we’re going down.’ Then we commenced to fail, and we went down, down, down, down. Some remained in their •«eats, grasping them, while others rose, tit vm quite dark now. I stood up in the eentre of the aisle, holding on to the seat, SQu tliflllL IfkH I be lew liable to be we warn down everything was as silent as the grave, but when we had struck a ter-

tibia shriek arose from the wreck. There was another crash at the same time, but notwo load as the first. -.When we went down, splinters, glass, etc., were whirling around In the car, the berths were slipping down, and there was general confusion. Something fell on me, but it was nothing very heavy. It was dark and I could not see. Some gentleman also fell over me, but recovered himself a moment afterward. I could not toll who it was as it was dark. Some man said the car would be on fire in a minute, and we must hurry out. Another said, * the water fa coming in, and we will be drowned.’ On my way out, a perfectly uninjured man grabbed me as 1 groped my wire along on hands and knees, and said, ‘ O kelp me: don’t leave me; save me,’and ever so many snch things as that, but I couldn’t see his face. A woman wanted me to help her husband, who was jammed in between the floor and a berth. I tried to get him out, but could not. Some men called cut and said they would come and help him. Then I went to the door, walking over the furnace in my course. There was no fire caught in otir car. “ How to get out alive I could not imagine. The cars around me were either ablaze or covered with such masses of rubbish as to almost completely hem me in. But I saw a man climbing up the rubbish, and I followed him. I got on the side of the car, which had turned over, and crawled along on it. It seemed to be filled with people, jammed together, screaming and crying for help. There was another man behind me, and both tried to help me along, but it was too slippery, and I found I could do better crawling along by myself. WTien we got to the end of the car these men—Mr. Tyler, of Bt. Louis, and Mr. White, Chicago —helped me down. When I got down I found myself in the water, snow and ice up to my knees. Mr. Tyler was bleeding about the head, face and hands, with a dreadful gash over his eve. Mr. White was unhurt, and he told me it was his eighth railroad accident. Under the corner there was a man whose head lay lower than the rest of his body, and his limbs were all crushed by the car. Ho asked us to help him, and we did so as best we could, until others came and carried him away, suffering intensely. I do not know who he was. All this time the Ashtabula fire bells and the bell ot the engine that had passed over were ringing furiously. The blinding snow fell around us, illuminated by the light of the fire which had attacked the wreck. The banks looked as high as those near Niagara at first. The bridge had broken off short at each end, leaving nothing but the abutments. “ By this time there were plenty of men around to help us, but there was a perfect panic, very few having any presence of mind at ail. Many who could have saved themselves as well as not had to be dragged out of the care, or they would have been burned to death. The women really showed the most courage, and yet there were few ot them saved. We were heiped up the hill to the engine-house, pushing through the snow and ice, and clambering up the steep, rugged banks of the creek. The injured were brought in, some of them horribly mangled, but very few of them unable to speak.- There were three ladies there —a Mrs. Graham of New York, Mrs. Bingham of Chicago, another lady and myself. My escape was most remarkable, my only injury being no more than a scratch upon my wrist. Mrs. Graham was only slightly injured. Mrs. Bingham had her left leg ana spine hurt, and the other lady, whose name I don’t know, was also terribly injured. “ Before we had got up the hill the whole train was on fire; we heard the shrieks of the wounded and dying, and the whole scene was as bright as day. Men were working as hard as they could to help the sufferers out of their fiery prison. A physician came in about half an hour, ana we took ’buses and went to the village. We were drenched through and through, and our clothes,froze to us."

Temperance in Scotland.

The Scotch are a sober nation, but they can get drunk occasionally, and it appears from a return just issued that during the year ending June 30 last 54,330 persons were taken in charge in Scotland for being drunk, of whom, however, it fa fair to say that 31,146 were simply incapable, and only 28,184 were disorderly as well as drunk. Of these drunkards Glasgow claims 15,331 cases, and the neighboring burghs GoVan, Maryhill, and Partick contribute 1,983 cases between them, making a grand total for Glasgow of 17,313. These are all returned under the head of “ incapable,’’ there being no such charge as drunk and disorderly in the Glasgow police act. It is, however, difficult to believe that 17,313 persons could have drank themselves into a condition of such incapability that they were none of them capable of disorderly behavior. Edinburgh contributes 6,934 incapable and disorderly drunkards, and Dundee 8,807. The town of Aberdeen shows well on the list, with onlv 596 of both classes; Greenock gives 2,464; Leith, 1,391; Paisley, 1,693; Port-Glasgow, 923; Hamilton, 786; Kilmarnock, 735; Ayr, 699; Stirling, 671; Dumfries, 621; Forfar, 268; Montrose, 226; Brechin, 190; Arbroath, 76;Broughty Ferry, 27; Kirriemuir, 16; Dunfermline, 176; and other places in Fifeshire, 452. Perth County numbers 768, and Perth city 226. The county of Kincardine gives a total of 122, and Kinross County, 5. To the town of Lerwick alone belongs the honor of having no drunkards, of any variety, to figure on the list.— Pall Mall Oatetle.

“Sales-Ladies."

The subject was the employment of women as salewomen, or “ sales ladies,” as tlie latest euphemism has it. Mrs.B. said she always “ hated to buy anything of a woman.” “ That is because one woman does not know how to use another,” said Spicer; “ men have no difficulty in dealing with shopwomen; lemme show you,” and as they entered the toy store he blandly apK reached an apple-faced girl, with flaxen air, done up in small pats over her forehead. and slightly raising hta hat, asked to be shown some toys suitable for a child of three. Apple face turned a cheap locket, hanging at her neck, right ride out, smiled, and said: “Yes. sir." Spicer turned hta eyes around in triumph, but his ears unfortunately heard the shop-belle say, totto toot: “Jenny, show this bald-headed old noodle some cheap stuff, will you; there’s Jim Spooner jess come in, ana I want to see him.” Mrs. S. chuckled, and Spicer thought they bad better walk out and see what there was at the other end of the store.— Bottom Commercial Bulletin . —Dr. Evans, the Brother Jonathan dentist or toethcarpenter, of Paris, has married hfa daughter to a distinguished ' - «ach nobleman.

Grazing Plains in the Moon.

Every one has noticed the dark spots which mottle the surface of the full moon. These long ago used to be considered seas, and in the geography of the lunar orb went under such names as the Sea of Tranquility, the Sea of Nectar, the Sea of Serenity, the Sea of Ruins and the Ocean of Tcm|>ests. They are still designated seas by astronomers, for convenience sake, but are known to be nothing bat vast plains hemmed in, in some cases, by lofty nigged mountains. When examined through the telescope, some of these plains exhibit a greenish tint, strongly marked, but here and there difficult to catch except under favorable conditions. This verdant hue has excited speculation. If the moon has no atmosphere and no water, It may arise from the color of the ground, but certainly cannot indicate vegetation. If, however, the moon has an atmosphere, the case is entirely altered, and recent stndies of the state of the lunar surface have excited grave doubts as to its being nothing but an airless, waterless, unalterable desert, a changeless mass of dead matter. An American scientitic contemporary proceeds boldfly from doubt to certainty. “The moon.”it observes, “ fa now known to have an atmosphere of considerable volume and density, to present abundant evidence of physical activity and change, and to have in all probability water enough to make life easily possible on its surface. The moon is dying, but not dead. Being so much smaller than the earth it has run its course more rapidly, but it is still a good way ofi from that goal of ultimate deadness to which so many astronomers have theoretically assigned it. There is not the slightest adequate evidence, Neison says, of the popular view of want of life, and its truth would be admitted by no astronomer who told devoted sufficient attention to selenography to enable him to thoroughly realize the probable present condition of the moon.” If such is the case, the green-tinted plains may be nothing but vast grassy regions covered with nocks and herds. The “ man in the moon” may have abundant pasturage for his cattle, and many a shepherd-boy may be there seated on the ground, piping as though lie should never grow old. It is a pity we .can only speculate. Reality is true romance, and if we knew all that goes on in the moan, astronomers probably would shut up their books and break ■ their telescopes.—CasMll't Magazine.

Custer’s Mark.

It was a horrible scar. Commencing at the roots of the hair, ju9t jover the left temple, it ran down across the face to the right-hand corner of the mouth. The flesh bad closed together in a great ridge, and the nose seemed to have been shortened half an inch by the process of healing. The man with the scar sang two or three songs, and then passed his cap around for pennies. “ Did a blow of an Injun’s tomahawk do that?” he repeated. “No sir; I got that cut down in Old Virginia during the war, ’bout the time it looked as if Jest Davis was the biggest patriot in the country.” “ You were in the cavalry ?” “ You bet I was! I smashed up so ‘many horses that I was owing the Confederate Government $400,000 when it collapsed. If she hadn’t collapsed I’d been forced into bankruptcy.” He chuckled, and raised his hat so as to reveal the scar in all its hideousness, and continued: “I don’t believe a tomahawk could leave a scar like this. It takes a good sharp saber to spoil a man’s face so that be daren’t look in the glass or have his photograph taken. A Yank slashed me, of course, but who do you suppose it was ? You couldn’t guess to save your neck, and so I’ll tell you—it was Custer, that long-haired, dare-devil Yankee General who used to ride around with blood in his eyes and an extra saber in hfa teeth. He thought he’d done for me when he gave me this lick, but he didn’t know our family.” “How was it?” “It was down at Travillian Station. He was raiding around witk a lot of cavalry, and our folks got him in a box. Somehow we got around him on all sides, and we had cavalry, infantry and artillery. We were two to one, had hint! fairly coopered, and by all decent rules of warfare he ought to have hung out the white flag, handed over his saber, and politely said: ‘Boys, you’ve got the grapevine twist on me and I cave.’ We expected it; but, blast him! he didn’t do any such thing. No, sir. He massed his troopers, Save ’em to understand that it was ‘do or ie,’ and the whole Caboodle of ’em came for us on the gallop, bands playing, flags flying and troopers yelling like wild Injuns. Our batteries played on ’em from a dozen hills; our infantry fusiladed ’em good and strong, and our troopers got the word to charge. “ Durn my buttons, but wasn’t it a hot fight! We were all mixed up, bullets flying, sabers hacking, men yelling, horses neighing, everybody shouting, and it was a devil's dance all around! 1 heard a Yank shouting orders, as if he was some big gun or other, and I worked up to him through the smoke. It was Custer. I had seen him before, and I knew what a fighter he was. I pushed right up to him, gave my old saber a twist and a cut, and off went hfa head!” He looked up with a wicked twinkle inhis eyes, and added: “In a horn! I rose in my stirrups and struck at him with force enough to cut clean down to the saddle, but he parried the blow, leaned over, I saw a flash, and the next thing 1 knew I- had been in the hospital for two weeks, and the surgeons were trying to look into my boots through this saber cut across my face. I was a whole year getting over it, and then I looked so handsome that I was turned over to the home guards for the rest of the war. Sometimes 1 feel like suicide, and agin I don’t care. I didn't bear no grudge agin Custer for the slash, but he might just as well have put his cheese-knife through me as to have given me this 4 X his mark’ to lug around. And that’s what ails this old reb, and that’s how I feel.”— N. Y. Bun.

Concerning Cocoanuts.

For the past two or three months a larse number of small vessels have reached this port freighted with the large cocoanut crop of the islands in the South Pacific Ocean. These nuts, which are brought in bulk in the holds of the vessels, are being stored in cellars and lofts by the consignees, preparatory to shipment to the Eastern States or consumption here by several small factories in this city engaged in grating and putting the meat up m cans and packages for household and confection purposes. With each year the demand for the coeoahat increases, and there is a possibility of the business of importing them assuming very respectable proportions. The value of the cocoanut, especially to the islanders where they

are grown, fa not generally known to the people of this country. Seven years and often more must elapse between planting and the harvest, but when once established, a cocoonut plantation is a valuable one. Ift the Hawaiian Islands the adage “ who plants a cocoanut orchard will not live to eat iu fruit” had a superstitious power that restrained men from planting the fatal tree, but that has been gradually overcome. In the. Gilbert Islands, however, there is no Buch silly superstition, and the cocoanut tree is looked upon as their faithful father and mother. It supplies their every want, so to speak. Its long green leaves, seldom less than twelve feet and often twenty from heel to point, make floor mats, mattresses, blankets, windows and even doors. The tongb mid ribs, with thepalments attached, make the largest shingles extant, and when stripped they make fishing rods, fencing lumber, floor rods, etc., while the narrow leaflets, tied in a long, cigar-shaped torch, illuminate the nights without stare and the black-blue water where the fisherman scoops up the curious flying fish. The fiber of the husk, properly twisted, gives strong material for twine and rope, be it a hair fish-line, a mainsail halyard, a canoe hawser, or a shark rope. The shell of the nut makes a hot charcoal, which is unexcelled by that of any other material. The milk is God’s gift to a thirsty land, where no rain falls eight months out of the twelve, and the springs of water are more or less salt. And right here it may be pertinent to remark that there are two milks to a cocoanut—one the natural water and the other produced by scraping the meat fine and immediately subjecting its snowy-white flakes to a violent compression. This lacteous fluid can hardly be distinguished from new milk, and answers nearly the same purpose in tea and coffee. The meat of the cocanut when young is soft as jelly, tender as cream, and as delicious as f reshly-baked custard eaten with a silver spoon. When, however, it gets hard It becomes tough and cuts —all children know how—like old cheese. In many of the Coral Islands the inhabitants have no better meat than this same cocoanut, and with a slice of it partially hardened, a gourd of its milk and a strip of dried fish, they make a very goocT~i!fi»Stt. Cocoanut oil, which is now largely manufactured and used in the manufacture of line toilet soaps, is produced by scraping the dry nut into small shavings, exposing them to the hot sun till the rancid oil begins to stew out, and then subjecting the fragrant to heavy pressure. To the island producers, this to us valuable oil is worth only ten cents per gallon, and is dull of sale even at that figure unless a trading snip is within easy reach. It takes full 100 common-sized nuts to make a gallon of this oil. To the islander, however, the most valuable product of this really wonderful tree is its sap. Without cocoanut sap the coral atolls would soon be desolate. Bjit few own land or trees, and these few, as a matter of course, own the nuts. But the ancient and undisputed law that protects the property rights in eatable cocoanuts permits the poorest slave or beggar to procure sap on the rich man’s land. This sap flows from the bud, which stands on the tree like an unhusked ear of corn swathed tightly, and to get at it the small end of this bud is cut off. The sap is swallowed when fresh ana sweet, and will, unaided, sustain life and strength. When allowed to stand and become fermented, it is transformed into a sort of cocoanut toddy, which is as vile a drink as ever brought about a riot or drunken murder. On seven islands, during the year 1875, over 100 murders were attributed to this intoxicating cause, and an islander full of the cocoanut toddy was considered by the traders to be ten times as dangerous as a San Francisco hoodlum full of whisky. It is not generally known that cocoanuts differ in shape, size and flavor, as do apples, peaches and pears. At the Hawaiian Museum, in Honolulu, can be seen pairs of cocoanuts ranging in size from small crab-apples to the shape and volume of a foot-ball. As a rule they follow the general types, the oval and the circular. The smallest of the oval type is as long as a man’s fore-finger, and not larger, and of the circular no larger than a dove’s egg. From this size they ascended to nine inches in diameter. The tree producing the small nuts reproduces itself, and the mammoth nuts of Samoa, and the marques as, are parents of the same huge nuts on E'len. Some are very sweet in milk, others actually delicious, and others again as brackish and disagreeable as can be imagined. Each tree follows its own type. In many of the coral islands are found cocoanuts with an edible husk. When green every part of it is chewed and eaten by the islanders, and when it gets tougher the juice is simply taken and the fiber thrown away like sugar-cane. In short, to the natives of the southern islands the tree fa food, drink, fuel, house, clothing, money, and the staff of life to a race who, as far as their knowledge of their origin is concerned, are abnormal and indigenous, the same as the milk in the cocoanut. The vessels engaged in the cocoanut trade make a fair profit on the amount of money invested. At the islands from 300 to 400 sound and merchantable nuts go to the traders for one dollar, when sold tor money, and by trade even more favorable terms are secured. The .nuts are sold here from six dollars to seven dollars per 100, and one vessel will bring a million or more. Sometimes, however, when the voyage is a long one, the nuts begin to sprout in the hold, and as soon as they begin to do so they are worthless. It is a curious and interesting sight to sit on one of the wharves and watch the unloading of this curious fruit. The nuts, encaseti in their tough, fibrous, brown covering, are tied together in bunches of four or five, as the case may be, by strips of fiber wrenched from the main body of the husk, and just as the natives brought them to the boat. Outside of giving children a decided pain, and the use made of them by confections, the cocoanut is beginning to be largely used in household cookery in the manufacture of pies, and. different kinds of cakes and light table confections. The bulk of the importations this year come from Tahiti, Honolulu, Mexico and South America. —Ban Franc iteo Chronicle.

Not So ignorant.

He sat alone in her father’s parlor, waiting for the fair erne’s appearance, the other evening, when her little brother came cautiously into the room, and gliding up to the young man’s side, held out a handful ot something, and earnestly inquired: “ I say, mister, what’r them?" “ Those?” replied the young man. solemnly, taking up one in hfa fingers, “those are beans.” “There!” riionted the boy, turning to hfa sister, who -was just coming in, “I knew you lied. You said he didn’t know beans, and he does, tool" The young man’s stay whs not what you might call a prolonged one that evening.— Chicago Journal.

Our Young Headers. . THE DEAREST BABY. Soon sod North,, But sod W,*V Wh> re is the bsby That I love best? > < A little papoose Undlr the trees f A Chtmere beaotr Beyond the eeas ? An Bngtteh child Among the mills? A Hwltzrr baby j. Between the Bills? A dark-eyed darling • • In Sou'bern valee? An Iceland baby In Northern galea? What noneanee-talk To speak of these! The dearest baby la on my knees. —if. T. Butt*, in ChrUtian Union.

A TALK TO GIRLS ON “HOW TO TALK.”

I want you all to tiy most earnestly to be good talkers. That means a great deal. A woman who can charm by her conversation is always sought for. Of course some women have a gift of expression, but all can lparn talk agreeably if they will give their mind to the acquisition of the art. How can yon learn ? Just begin. Talk about something. Nonsense is better than awkward pauses. Don't think of yourself, but start a subject. If it must be the weather, pull that to .pieces; compare to-day with yesterday, and hope for a fair to-morrow; but never sit like ,a scared parrot, or an automaton that has run down. A great deal is said about the everlasting clack of a woman’s tongue, and many poor jokes and a few good ones are made on our volubility and Incoherent prattle. But scandal, or twaddle, or illogical, vapid chatter is not conversation. To tell an anecdote successfully, is one of the fide arts, and a very difficult thing to achieve. How many of you can do it without—Or leaving oat the -pan? Try it. Get together some evening half a dozen girls and boys, and each one tell an anecdote as concisely and as picturesquely as possible. Your experience will prove that you need practice. Then select some one subject—anecdotes of children or traveling, legal wit or repartees or bulls. Study one or two good jokes, as you would a lesson. Get the lights and shades, the right tone, the facial expression that adds so much to a story, and when you meet again, notice the improvement. * An amusing anecdote will often put a whole family in good humor or rouse a dinner-table from dullness. But to talk too much, even if you do it admirably, is, if anything, worse than silence. A woman who really knows a good deal is apt to try to tell you all she knows in one interview. She is terribly oppressive. A gentleman assured me, the other day, that he had given up the acquaintance of a very brilliant woman because he had been trying for two years to tell her something important, butnever could get in a word! True conversation is an exchange of ideas, not a lecture or an essay. Don’t talk about yourself. No one wants to hear of your success or defeat/ your joy or trials, except the few tried friends who are really interested in whatever concerns you. t Protruding egotism makes even a great and learned mrfh ridiculous, and in a woman it is apt to degenerate into minute details which are nauseating and a waste of time. Talk of things, events, books, others’ interests, and, if people must be discussed, do it sparingly, and, above all, charitably. If you have a tendency to sarcasm* try hard to restrain it. It makes you feared and suspected. A keen sense of the ludicrous is a great blessing, giving flavor and sparkle to every-day life; but don’t make targets of your friends. Personalities are unladylike and unchristian. If I cannot inspire you all with a genius for conversation, I can at least point out some mistakes which are made every day, some habits which should be avoided, and some phrases which you must taboo, if you desire to be agreeable. I know a lady and her husband who would be delightful companions, bat they have each apet phrase, and it spoils ail they say. The lady adds “To be sure” to everything you say, while the gentlemen carries you along with a dreadful “You see? You see?” as a running frain to his otherwise interesting conversation. They are charming people; they give such a warm welcome, such a good dinner; but their friends are wearied by those set, monotonous catchwords. Once conquered by such a habit, and it f ains as strong a hold as rum or opium, t requires an iron will and constant watchfulness to be rid of even three words. Don’t say “You know.," to he'p out a scanty stock of ideas, especially when Sour hearers don’t know a thing about. it. ome people use "As I say” in an oracular way, when tney have never expressed the thought before; others prefer the present tense while describing a past event, as, “He says,” or “ Says ehe,”i when speaking about a conversation of perhaps a month ago. The mistake is reversed with the word expect—“l expect she did,” or “ I-expect it faan interesting book,” far, I suppose or think so. “Will” is wrongly used for “ shall,” even by persons of culture, and it is difficult to define the Unfits of these words, though a trained ear can tell at once which is the proper word to Use—“shall ” for what is in the future, “will" for determination *ad certainty. “ Doesn’t/’ doss, double duty for itself and “does not.” “He don’t think of going,”—“ He do not think,” fa very bad, yet we near the contradiction daily. Avoid the customary but inane “padding,” such aq “Is that so?" as an unmeaning response to what your friend has sqnarely stated “it to-" A single sentence often reveals culture, or toe lack of it. I paid a visit to a pretty, well! dressed lady the other- day. And? she said, “ I used to be real slender, but some way I’vejl ethed up terribly within the last few years.” If you fail to hear a question, never attempt to remedy the matter by a vacant “How?” or “Which?” It woulfl be equally reasonable to use “ Moreover?” or'‘Notwithstanding?” “I beg yoUr pardon,” or “ Excuse me, what did you say?” or “ Pardon me, I didn’t hear," are suitably phrases. i ; It is very rude to interrupt any one, or anticipate the ideas of a slow talker, or to correct one who is laboring to get off * joke, be it ever so poorly done. Don’t, fight for a point. It fa much wfaeir And more graceful for a lady to yield, 4fneA convinced, than to hold pugnaciously to her own notions of things, a* a hungry dog bangson to a bone. f " Finally, try to draw* out what fa good,

and bright, and lovable in those about you; a sure wsy hsonln*— and friends. And ljrmember ■' witty advice, to alovaynjfirid put whether they would prefer to hear you, or thAt you should hear tbem,rrf-J’*uwt Companion.

Fred's Love.

“ Yoit’vk arrived ,at ah a£e% hi iXle to distinguish right from’ wrbng, Fred, so I will leave the decision entirely to your own judgment, hoping you willshoo.se that which conscience dictates.” ~ . These words were addressed by a widow ludy toheruinly child,aline cietver-faoking boy ot fifteeq, who apjieared to possess an unusual amount of good hnmOr, ’beaming from his eyes. Perhaps many would have called him wild, bpt to his mother he was always a kirtd find affectionate ana.' oi He had been invited to spend the Christmas holidays at the homC of'a yonng friend And schoolfellow, who wan more accustomed and skillful in poising the billiard cue than fn Ulster his-’braine, but, withal, what was calledy* fellow," and a general favorite among his companions! I ■■ ■ of'impi jj It wad with considerable uneaaiaess that Fred’B mother watched toe growing friendship between the boys.’ : Fred was quite aware and thoroughly -understood his mother’s feelings regannhg-Ufa intimate acquaintance.- 'lt. was? in anefawvto his question whether she would allow tun to accept the invitatiorfbr not (which Aubject he had some difficulty in broaching, knowing it would meet with anything but her approval), that she replied in the words written above. .« . ~» ; . Mrs. Fraser had early instilled' the principles lof morality into, the foind of her son. The knowledge.pf the Bible, the difference between right’and wrong; and the way in which to separata and from the other, were among his first lessops. He had grofan into ratfeet careless habits of late, associating with of, young men who had few or no clear ideas relating to true honof, and turftfag k deaf ear to alk good advice. Mrs. Fraser determined that when ah occasiofr offered Fred should choose his future: road, in life for himseif, praying he would be guided by the omniscient eve cf God. The opportunity occurred in this tempting invitation. Pleasure, counseled him to, pay the visit; conscience sharply rebuked hmv' after a short struggle pleasure, finally triumphed. Traveling satchel iq hand, he found himself at 'the station with- just time enough to obtain atickft- He waa about to step into the train when his attention was suddenly attracted by'A beautifully embfoidered bookmarker, which fluttered to the ground frOm thA'leavefe of an ele-gantly-bound } volume r v old lady was carrying. She seemed unconscious' of her loss. With ing to pick it up, intending to return it to its owner, his eye caught the following inscription traced hi golden letters on the card: “Honor, tfiy father and thy mother.” A mist rose before hia sight At, the remembrance of what grief he was causing his loving mother in undertaking this journey, and kow bjbgr£|tefolly ]m was repaying her watchful, tender care. His resolutions wAre nowflrraly'formed. Hastily necollecting that. be still, l)eld the lady’s card in his hand, he turned and presented it to her, saying, w MAdame, I saw you drop this. apo. v - ” “Ah, thank you,” she interrupted. HAlf ah ftoUf'latet- Fred was pouring into.l be 'ear bjs. mother the story oi hit return. He Whispered, as he placed his arm tooond her neck, “And—l think I obeyed the dictates of conscience, mother." * Now, although < too train did - not fall over an embankment;, nor ran off the track, but kept steadily on its oodrse, and though Fred Fraser would hitfve most likely enjoyed all the pleasure he anticipated, yet mat delightful vlsif would have been the first downward step ip the career of one fitted for something higher than a dissipated life.-A#'. Y: Wttnete.

Cremation for Fifty Cents.

In yesterday’s Leader mention was made of tim fact that a test fyad been made the night before of the. hew ’ cremation furnace at Wheeling, built by the Howard Brothers of thatAity, by burning a fowl. This fa the third that has been made on this furnace, a,cqt,,fu»d * dog having been cremated before, and as it is Claimed by the inventors 1 that this furnace will cnniatea-lfadgfonhputpqp-half the time that Dr. Le Moyne’s foundry will, some points m relatiob to jy*lll be of interest at thfa iimp. These Wheeling experiments have resented, it’ is Asserted, in demonstrating! beyond all doubt that a human body weighing 15P jpounds can readily be reduced roidbPphiinds in two hours from the time it fa .placed in the furnace, all tea fuel required being from eight to ten gallons df ‘wftatl fa known as •vifuel oil,? 4 dfatißstjog, ,<*fypetroleum similar to benzole, tour and onehalf cerits ' her gallon*. What degree of beat is obtained accurately ascertained, but tqis much fa known, that a bar of wrottgnt iron threequarters of. an 4»cfaJn, diameter melts in two minutes, thus preVentinir the use of iron intho construction of the furnace, 'made of pfambagq or black lead two inches thki,.itbeiag found to be the best material to stand tne intense heat and not crack m: cooling. .Jlp i* Bev ' en feet long apd twenty.eight inches wide at the widest point on the crt>Sß'section, which is an ellipse or. o?*l ,in form. The upper side of the retort is perforated with numerous small hores'Tbr the expulsion of the gases arising frohl the subject. The oil fa introduced into the furnace at the bottom of f lhe ietorPanambbr iby idaoing the Con- * ss rising andtrimpletely sunwiqding the retort. , Register*jftife placed in the sides of the furnaqß for fqe admission of air, which combinesArtth’ttfa lr)drogen of the oil, making a heat so intense as to nearly connime All thd'Cafbep/riid consequently Without tHe cWfih, which can readily be dane br A pbte ffaPfaed ( rfor Jhte W’ and thereby preventing the wood ashes from mingling - trfth those of the body. Every problem thus far advanced has been solved. No odor whatever arises from thS fataatt; t Itieslfaple in its construction and very economical in its operation;costing abofititffty cento to heat me rarilAM- —which can be done in one hour— and completely reduce the corpse. The door of the retort fa' so constructed thafth# Body can be seen daring the prog&£ MA furnaces ahdqjfao a desigpi of the cramsif on exhibition, foi; the benefit of those in- — CspC Boyton fa swimming through