Image provided by: Hillsboro Public Library; Hillsboro, OR
About Washington independent. (Hillsboro, Washington County, Or.) 1874-18?? | View This Issue
LEGAL ADTKaTKHTI (.)
On quar or Im, on Intortloa 91 W
Uua jur cb ub-rqavBt laMrttoa W
BMIJIICM AUVrRTIKKXKVTI )ln,t
Evemr TTiTrsrl'iw Tehran
is. l it c i
- Old Court House,
ool X cul 1 col.
1 niouttt... t 00 4 m 00$ I 00 t 00 til 80,M 00
HILLS ISO HO, OUEOOS.
Terms of Subuci Iptlon feoiu rate.)
Single copy per year SI SO
Uncle copy ix mouth 1 5"
T so 10 ooj
HILLSBORO, WASHINGTON COUNTY, OREGON, THURSDAY, APRIL 20, 1876.
WOO, 110 (M 25 (d
so out to 00
A Fireside Lvric.
I sit by the cheerful firelight.
In my home secure ami warm,
Hut without is tin; howl of the tempest,
And the pitiless jelt of the storm.
And I muse on the wretcheil and homeless.
Who wander for shelter ami bread,
And I pray to tin; merciful Muster,
That they may lit: covered and fed.
think not of tin' crime, nor the weakness,
You know wc can hate the sin.
And yet open the gates of mercy,
Atid tenderly take them in.
J think of the little children.
Adrift In the city's street.
And shudder at thought of the thorny ways,
To he troil ly their sinless feet.
Oh, many a pure you in; spirit
Would le saved a woman's shame,
Were to-night hut a crust or a pittance,
Ioled out, instead of blame.
Is there pity left in our sordid fouls?
Have the prayers of the poor grown old
Ah, woe, when tin: colf-r is getting full,
And the heart is growing told!
Now, as we pile the cheerful tire,
And he ir the roar of the storm.
Let love rekindle within the breast
A llame to keep it warm.
Restoring u Husband.
One pleasant morning in the fall, I
was .sitting alone in my olKee, conning
over a brief 1 hud just prepared lor a
case then pending, when I heard u knock
' on my door, and in walked a young wo
iniiii, with a pleasantly sail expression of
countenance, carefully dressed, who de
sired to know if I could transact a little
lethal business for her. She immediately
seated herself, and after some hesitation
begun her story.
It seemed that her husband, who was
given to turns of extreme dissipation, had
deserted her of his own accord, anil she
had heard nothing of him for a number
of years. At first she was unwilling to
believe that his absence was anything
more than temporary, as he had at sev
eral times forgotten his obligation to
her in this way ; but, liuding it became
indefinitely protracted, she entertained
fears for his safety. Thoughtless of his
wile's distress of mind, ami caring noth
ing whether she ever received tidings of
him or not, he followed after his own
inclinations, and led the life of a vaga
bond. She gave her name as Mrs. Mal
lows. "Henry, ".said she, "was once my all
in all; and I love him now as much as I
ever did.. I pity him so!"
Poor woman! How much was she to
be pitied herself!
"I have earned a living for myself and
little girl ever since I was left alone. Be
sides that, I have bought a little plain
furniture, ami put something into the
sa ings bank."
"lie has been gone several years, you
say?" I asked her.
"Yes, sir; he must have been, in order
to give a poor woman like myself any
time to lay aside a little money. "
l'I suppose you wish to secure your
savings then, against "
"Yes, sir; lie mut not have them! It
will never do! Think of my child!"
I told her what the law was, and re
gretted that such a law was tolerated on
the statute book.
She looked ut mo as if she wanted to
tear the leaf out of the statutes.
"I knew how it was," said she, "and
for that purpose have prepared to ake a
,. step which otherwise I never would take
in the world. I must obtain a divorce'
1 studied her countenance well, for it
challenged my scrutiny then. It was that
of a brave and noble woman, w ho from
duty ami principle makes a sacrifice
whose greatness the world can never
"I w ish it could be avoided," said she;
"but how is it possible? Even if he re
turns and claims what I have saved, be
fore a separation is legally effected, he
can take it all without any power of mine
to prevent it. Is it notsof
1 was obliged to confess that it was.
"Then," said she, witha sail resolution,
"this step must le taken. It tears my
heart, but I will do my duty to my
I therefore took such data from her
lips as enabled me to bring a petition
before the proper court. While I sat
making the memorandum, she threw in
various exclamations of sorrow at the
state of things with her that excited
toe with unusual sympathy. I know that
lawyers are not apt to he the most senti
mental of men. Hut here was a case to
challenge, n many of its connecting cir
cumstanees, the sympathy of any living
creatures. I did not he-hate, according
ly, to render the poor lady a lull measure
of my better feelings in return for her
"I'oor Henry,'' she would say, "I loved
him much! I can't but love hint yet!
How can I forget those early days?"
The safe.-t way for me was, while she
t dked thus, to hold my head down as
closely as possible to my paper. At some
points of her story, I do not believe I
could have looked her in tin? face without
helping the unhappy creature along with
tears ot my own.
"When we were married," said she
again, "I did not think of days like these.
I wouldn't have believed it if my best
friends had told me they were sure to
come. I loved Henry, and I know how
truly Ire then loved me. Hut he has been
leu astray. He never would do this of
himself; some one else must have led him
After a time I succeeded in collecting
all the facts front her that were necessary
to thi? business, and pushed back from
the table. She once more inquired,
"I cannot prevent him from taking all
except bv bringing the action for di
vorce?" "I see no other wnv," I told her.
"Then," said she, with n heavy coun
tenance, "the matter is settled forever.
I ant to be without the husband of my
youth! I am to live and die alone!
Good day, sir; I loved Henry before he
took to these courses. Ah, sir, I love him
now. I would make any sacrifice, if I
could thus avert this dreadful step!''
She took her leave of me sadly, as if
she were passing out into the dark shadow
of a cloud.
I sat undisturlted in my ollice for sev
eral hours ruminatingon the hard case that
had just been presented. I thought with
in myself it was a fearful matter thus to di
vorce husband ami w ife forever, w hen per
haps happy circumstances might yet inter
vene to reconcile their differences; and I
felt it worse than all that a law should be
allowed to stand on the pages of the
statute book, which drove an unprotected
woman to petition for a divorce in order
to save her property.
The more I thought about it, the harder
it seemed to ine to be. Yet I knew there
was no present remedy tor a case like
this, but the one she felt forced to choose.
Her husband had been away from her
had voluntarily deserted her for a num
ber of years long enough to warrant the
granting of her petition. He deserved to
be cut off from a true ami loving woman
w hom he had so basely betrayed, and I
hoped to be an instrument in bringing
about such a result.
Even while I sat thus occupied, the
door opened, and there walked in a man
of perhaps thirty-five years, who sat down
in the chair which my unhappy client
had vacated. He stated that lie was a
person long absent from the city, and
therefore wanted legal advice. I ex
pressed myself ready to deal it out to him,
"I ex pee t my w ife is somewhere in the
city," lie said, -'and I am anxious to find
her. Can you help me J And after that
I want more help."
"What is your name?" I asked.
I wjas thunderstruck. Taking a careful
look at him, I discovered marks of dis
sipation. I could see plainly enough
that he had but just returned from a long
absence of that character, having aban
doned his course only till he could in
some Way recruit his pockets, and come
back determined to strip his poor w ife of
all she had. To see the man of whom I
had been thinking, so soon, rather startled
me, albeit I am somewhat accustomed to
surprises of this character. I w atched
him closely. I could not keep my eyes
off of him.
From his own telling I became con
vinced that he was determined to find his
wife again simply to live off of her, or to
appropriate her savings, if the had any.
I at oiice suggested that as he had been
absent so long, she might perhaps have
obtained a legal separation.
He was struck with surprise at the
possibility of suclt a thing; then declared
it could not be possible, for he knew
Mary would never do such a thing; and
finally sprang to his feet with excite
ment, and said he must find her at once.
I saw his urgency and took advantage
"I can help you," said I.
"Can you f" he asked, his face bright
"Coine here to-morrow afternoon at
half-past three o'clock. lie punctual at
that hour, and you shall find your inter
ests all answered."
He promised me witli much eagerness,
and took his leave.
"Meantime," I said, as he was shutting
the door, "keep perfectly quiet. Do not
make a single inquiry of any one. I can
help you if anyUxly can."
He" bowed his thanks and was gone.
A few miuutes afterward I left my ollice
in search of the residence of the wife.
She had given me her street and number,
and I had no difficulty in liuding her.
"I want you to be at my office to-morrow
afternoon, at four o'clock," said I;
"not a minute sooner, however."
"Yes, sir," she answered, satisfied . that
I was looking after her interests.
I passed the night more awake than
asleep, thinking how I could Iest secure
the object I had in view. The forenoon
slipped away as it always did. After
dinner I sat and waited for half-past
three o'clock to come. I w as apprised of
the fact of its arrival by the opening of
the door and the entrance of my man
"Punctual!" said he.
He looked better than on the previous
day, though I could see that he haddteen
feeding the tires of dissipation over night.
I led him into a back room, leaving the
door ajar, and sat down and began con
versation with him. I saw plainly that
he was determined to get all that his wife
had. And still, from various questions
put to him to divert his thoughts tit other
objects, I saw that at heart he loved his
wife, ami might possibly yet become a
devoted and noble husband.
While we were occupied with nothing
but these generalities, I keeping his curi
osity piqued to learn what I might have
of importance to communicate, the town
clock struck four. Involuntarily I started
in my chair. At the same moment the
door opened in the other room. I told
my man to sit still a few minutes, and I
would be back again. But in going out
I was careful to leave the door ajar, that
all we said might be overheard.
The poor lady was there, prompt enough.
I asked her to be seated ; she little thought
that the cause of her trouble was in the
other room. She waited for me to intro
duce the subject for which I bail re
quested her attendance.
"I can get your bill for you, I think,"
said I, in a loud tone; "but if I should
tell you that your little savings wouIJ
be untouched without this proceeding,
would you insist on carrying it through f"
"No, never, sir; never in the world!
I would not cast Heury away! I love
him yet! I always shall love him! He
may wrong me more than he has, but it
will m ike no difference with my heart.
I do this only for the sake of my little
girl. She must be cared for, let who may
be the sufferer. dear Henry! why
wouldn't you lie to me what you once
This last exclamation was uttered in
such a touching tone, and came so fresh
from n wounded heart, that a man must
have been less than a man who could
have heard it unmoved. 1st an instant,
the repentant husband came rushing from
the inner room and threw his arms around
his wife, ne called on her to forgive
him. To find her thus true to him through
all his treachery, and to hear from her
ow n lips that she still loved him. cut hint
to the quick of Ids nature. He could
bear it no longer.
They embraced each other and wept.
He declared that she should suffer no
longer. She forgave him all, and with
drew her petition for divorce. I saw
them leave my office with joy, together.
Since that time he has liven an altered
man, and a model husband; and I some
times love to think I may have had a
hand in it all.
The FoimI of the Ancients.
The diversity of substances which we
find in the catalogue of articles of food,
is as great as the variety with which the
art or the science of cookery prepares
them. The notions of the ancients on this
import ant subject are worthy of remaik.
Their taste regarding meat was various.
Beef they considered the most substantial
food; hence it constituted the chief nour
ishment of their athletic. Camels' ami
dromedaries' ne-h was much esteemed,
their heels especially. Donkey flesh was
in high repute, ami the wild ass brought
from Africa was compared to venison.
In more modern times we find Chan
cellor Cupret having asses fattened for
his table. The hog and the wild boar
appear to have been held in high estima
tion. Their miKle of killing swine was
refined in barbarity as epicurism. Pigs
were slaughtered with red hot spits, that
the blood might not be lost; stuffing a
pig with assaftedita was a luxury. Young
bears, dogs ami foxes (the latter esteemed
when fed upon grapv, were also much
admired by the K m t:is, who were also
so fond of variors birds that some con
sular families assumed the names of those
they most esteemed. Catius tells us how
to drown fow ls in Falernian wine, to ren
der them more luscious anil tender.
Pheasants were brought over from Col
chis, and deemed at one time such a
rarity that one of the Ptolemies bitterly
lamented his never having tasted any.
Peacocks were carefully reared in the
island of Santos, and sold at such a high
price that Yarro informs us they fetched
yearly upwards of $10,000 of our money.
The guinea-fowl was considered delicious ;
but the 11 m ins knew not the turkey, a
gift which we moderns owe to the .Jesuits;
The ostrich was much relished; llelioga
balus delighted in their brains, and Api
cius especially commends them. The
modern gastronome is, perhaps, not
aware that it is to the ancients he owes
his fattened duck and goose livers the
inestimable fie 'jrn of France. The
swan was also fattened by the llomans,
who first deprived it of sight; and cranes
were by no means despised by the people
While the feathered creation was
doomed to form a part of ancient de
lights, the water yielded their share of
enjoyments, and several fishes were im
mortalized. The carp was educated in
their ponds, ami rendered so tame that he
came tit be killed at the tinkling of his
master's bell or the sound of his voice.
The fame of the lamprey is generally
known; and the sturgeon was brought to
table with triumphant pomp; but the
turbot. one of w hich was brought to !
miti in from Ancona w as considered such
a splendid present that this emperor as
sembled the senate to admire it. The
reck mullet was held in su eh a distin
guished category among genteel tithes,
that three of them, although of small size,
were known to fetch upward of 1,000.
They w en; more appreciated w hen brought
alive, ami gradually allowed to die, when
the Hontans feasted their eyes in the an
ticipated delight of eating them, by gaz
ing on "the "lying creatures as they
changed color like an expiring dolphin.
Snails were also a great dainty; Fulvius
Herpinus was immortalized for the dis
covery of the art of fattening them on
bran and other articles; and Horace in
forms us that they were served up, broiled
upon silver gridirons, to give a relish to
wine. Oysters were brought from Eng
land to H mie, and froen oysters were
much extolled. Grasshoppers, locusts,
and various inect, were equally accept
able to our first gastronomic legislators.
A Litti.k F. in. k. Sotithey used to
say that his means lay in an inkstand;
and Byron somew here says that a drop of
ink may make a million think. Ink has
been very aptly designated as the black
slave that waits upon thought. '"Take
awav the sword," said the famous Car
dinal of France,"States can be saved w itli
out it. Bring the pen." It is the en
chanter's wand, in itself nothing', yet tak
ing sorcery from the master's hand
wherewitit to move me worm, isut we
have a fable in our mind which we would
d;pict for our readers. The sword of
the warrior was taken down to be bright
ened, though it hail not been long out of
use. The rust was rubbed off, but the:
were spots that would not disapjiear
lark, significant spots;they were of blood.
The sword was on the table, near the pen
of the secretary. The pen took advan
tage of the first breath of air to move a
little farther off. "Thou art rigid," said
the sword, "I am a bad neighbor." "I
fear thee not," replied the pen ; "lam
more powerful than thou art, but I love
not thy soc iety." "M can flash like light
ning," saiil the sword. "Ah! but my
rays are eternal," said the pen. "I ex
terminate," added the sword. "And I
perpetuate," answered the pen. "Where
were thy victories if I recorded them not?
Even where thou thyself shall one day
bejn the Lake of oblivion !"
How we delight to build our recollec
tions on some basis of reality a place,
a country, a local habitation! How the
events of life, as we look back upon
them, have grown into the well-rcmem-bered
back-ground of the places where
thev fell upon us! Here is some sunny
"ar'den or summer lane, beautiful and
canonized forever with the flood of a
great joy; and here are dim and silent
nlaces rooms always shadowed and
dark to us, whatever they may be to
others where distress or death came
and since then dwells forever
The clove is a native of the Malacca
Islands, as also is the nutmeg.
In one of her lectures Mrs. Livermore
devoted considerable time to this ques
tion, "What shall we do with our
daughters?" Some sensible person, who
has thought over and through the subject,
answers the question by these plain and
wholesome suggestions :
Teach them self-reliance.
Teach them to make bread.
Teach them to make shirts.
Teach them not to wear false hair.
Teach them not to paint and powder.
Teach them to wear warm, thick shoes.
Teach them to wash and iron clothes.
Briiigtheiiiupiiitheway they should go.
Instruct them how to make their own
Teach them that a dollar is one hun
Teach them how to cook a goitd meal
Teach them every
Teach them h. tw
lay hard, practical
ain! sew on buttons.
Teach them to ftxt up store bills
steail of running them up.
(Jive them a good, sensible education.
Teach them to say no, ami mean it;
and yes, and stick to it.
Instruct them to regard the morals,
not the money of beaux.
Teach them to wear calico dresses, and
do it like a queen.
Instruct them in all the mysteries of
the kitchen, dining-room and parlor.
Instruct them to have nothing to do
with intemperate anddissolute joungmen.
Teach them that a good, round, rosy
romp is worth fifty delicate consumptives.
Teach them that the more one lives
within his income, the more he w ill save.
Teach them that the further one lives
beyond his income, the nearer he gets to
Hely upon it, that upon your teaching
depends, in a great measure, the weal or
woeof their after life.
Teach them accomplishments music,
drawing if you have time and money to
tlo it w ith.
Teach them that (Jod made them in his
ow n image, and that no amount of tight
lacing will imrove the nuxlel.
Teach them that a good, steady me
chanic, w ithout a cent, is worth a dozen
oil-pated loafers in broadcloth.
Instruct them in the essentials of life,
truth, honesty and uprightness, then
at a suitable time let them marry.
W.vsirrMi Fink Umercitiiinu.
The Germautown Telegraph says: A
leading firm, importers and retailers of
hosiery goods in this city, gives us the
following directions for washing merino,
lamb's wool and silk underclothing, and
we print it at this time as lcing in
season to be adopted. From our own ex
perience we can testify to its excellence:
"L'se one pound of dissolved soap in
four gallons of warm water, in w hich
well rinse the articles to be washed,
drawing them repeatedly through the
hand; wring them as dry as possible, to
remove the soap; rinse them again
briskly in clean, lukrwarm water; wring
and stretch them to their proper shape,
and dry in the open air if possible. The
only effects of rubbing are to shrink and
destroy the material; it should therefore
never be resorted to.
"The material Used in manufacturing
silk underwear, living an animal product,
it is absolutely necessary that nothing
but the best quality of soap and warm
water should be used. All kinds of
washing compounds destroy the nature
of the material, giving to the fabric the
appearance of jwior cotton."
White Mountain Cake. One pound
of white sugar, one teacup of butter,
half a cupful of sweet milk, the whites of
ten eggs, half a teaspitonful of soda, one
teas pi tonful of cream of tartar, three
cups of Hour. Flavor with vanilla or
almond. Bike in jelly cake pans with
icing between. Icing for the cake : One
pound of fine sugar, the whites of three
eggs. The flavor of a grated cctcoanut
is very nice to it.
Pr.Mi'KiN Shout Cake. One cup
stewed ami strained pumpkin or squash,
one cup "C" oatmeal jtorridge ami one
cup water. Bt-at these up together,
and then add three cups tine Graham
flour. Mix thoroughly, spread half an
inch thick on a baking pan and bake
half an hour in a goxI oven. Cover for ten
minutes, and serve warm or cold.
Weak Eves. Bathe your eyes night
and morning in a tolerably strong solu
tion of salt ami water. We have known
some remarkable cures effected by this
simple remedy. After bathing the eyes
daily for altout a week, intermit a day or
two, and then resume the daily bathing,
ami so on till your eyes get strong again.
Ai.monij Cake. Two cups of sugar.
one ot butter, two-thirds of a cup of
sweet milk, whites of eight egg, one
teaspoon of soda, two of cream of tar
tar. Cream to place between: Two
thirds of a cup of milk, one cup of sugar,
one egg, one-fourth of a cup of blanched
almonds, pounded in a marble mortar.
Silver Cake. One pound white sugar.
three-quarter ound flour, six ounces
butter, whites fifteen eggs. Hub butter
ami sugar together, add eggs, well beaten.
then Hour, into which put a measure of
Horsford Bread preparation. Flavor
with bitter almond.
Yictokia Pi ddino.- The yolks of six
eggs well lieaten, two teaspoonfuls of
sittetl flour, three teacupfuls of sweet
milk, and stir until smooth. Beat the
whites to a froth, and stir them into the
batter gently. Bake quickly in a greased
pan, and serve hot with sauce.
Sponge Cake. Twelve eggs, the
weight of ten in white sugar, the weight
of six in flour, the juice of one lemon.
Beat the yolks of the eggs with the sugar
till very light, add the whites, lteaten to
a stiff troth ; lastly the flour. This makes
a large cake.
Eoos for Breakfast. Break ten
eggs into a tin plate, add one large
sittonful butter, some salt and pepper.
put the plate on the stove and allow the
eggs to cook until the whites are done.
then slip the tin plate into a china and
send not to the table.
Of all inhabitants of the sea, the sharks
are the most hated and dreaded. And
with reason; for they a re terribly fierce
and voracious. Even when in an infant
state, and only a few inches long, a shark
will attack iish two or three times as
large as himself, and try to bite your fin
ger off the moment you give him n
Like the tigers in India, it is said
sharks prefer black men to white to eat.
It used to le n regular amusement, we
are told, on board the slave-ships, to
hang a dead negro from the bowsprit,
and then watch the efforts of the sharks
to get hint. In order to get a meal of
dark meat, they would jump some-
uiiit-t more man twenty levi out oi me
wafer. It is no wonder that these fish are
so hungry, for they have an enormous
apparatus for digestion. Their stomachs
and bowels are as large in proportion as
their mouths, and one-third of their
bodies is occupied with the spleen aud
An old writer says that the entire
body of a man in armor was once found
in a white shark. Blumenbach says an
other swallowed a whole horse; ami
Capt. Basil Hall re torts that on cutting
up a shark, lie found, among other
things, the w hole skin of a buffalo, which
had been thrown overboard from his
ship. Sometimes a shark will swallow a
net for tke sake of a single fish in it.
Anil yet the monster il.vs not like dirty
water. A tew bucketful from the hold
of the ship have been know n to drive
He won't die if he can help it. In
one instance a shark was thrown over
board after his head hail been cut off.
For two hours the body kept swimming
ilwmt in different directions as it it
were looking for its head. Many a sailor
has been bitten by a shirk that he
thought was quite dead. The fox-shark
will put to flight a whole shoal ot
dolphins, and even frighten a w hale.
Watch Yocu Neighbors. Don't let
them stir without watching; they may
do something wrong, if you do. To le
sure, vou never knew them to do uuy-
thiug very bid ; but it may be on your
account they have not. Perhaps, if it
had not Iteen tor your care, they might
have disgraced themselves and families a
long tune ago. I heretore, tlo not relax
an effort to keep them where they ought
to lie; never mind your own business-
that will take care of itself. There is a
man passing along he is looking over
the fence be suspicious of him, (tcrhaps
he contemplates stealing some of these
dark nights; there is no knowing what
queer fancies he may have got into hi
head. It you find any symptoms ot any
one passing out of the path of duty, tell
every one else what you see, and be par
ticular to see a great many. It is a gmd
way to circulate such things, though it
may not benefit yourself or any one else
particularly. It shows that vou are
"wide awake"' "up to something' "not
to be tooled. If, after your watchful
care, you cannot see anything bad, per
haps in an unguarded moment you lost
sight of them: throw out hints that they
are no lxtter than they ought to be
that you should not wonder if people
found out what they were after a while,
then they may not carry their heads so
high. Keep it going, and some one
will take the hint ami begin to help you
after u while; then thcie will be music,
ami everything will work to a charm.
The Man ok Honor. What a glori
ous title that is! Who would not rather
have it than any kings can bestow ? It is
worth all the gold and silver in the
earth. He who merits it wears a jewel
within his soul, ami needs none Umii his
bosom. His word is good, ami if there
was no law in the land, he might be just
... , i . ?.i . i .....
as saiciy ticair. wmi. in uk iimair
advantage is riot in him; to quibble and
guard his steech so that he means some
thing which he does not mean, even w line
they can never prove that it is so, would
lie impossible to his frank nature. His
si teeches are never riddles. lie litoks
you in the eye ami says straight out
what lie has to say w ithout mental reser
vation, and he does unto others what he
would have others do unto him.
It is not only in business that he mav
show his right to a glorious title. Who
ever heard him betray the faults ami
follies of his friends, or speak slightingly
of his near kindred? The man of honor
is always a goitd son and a good brother.
tnd when the time comes makes an ex
cellent husband, making the vow to love
and cherish ami protect with a perfect
comprehension of its holiness; he never
breaks it. Yt hat woman necii tear to
promise to oltey a man of honor?
Heaven be thanked that, amid the vil
lains and tricksters of this world, there
are many such men left, loved and re
spected by all who know them.
Success. Purposes, however wise,
ithout plans cannot bo relied on for
good results. Kandom or spasmodic ef
forts, like aimless shots, are generally no
Itetter than wasted time or strength. The
purpose of shrewd men in the business
of this life are always followed with care
fully firmed plans. Whether the object
is learning, Honor or wcaiin, me ways
and means are all laid out according to
the best rules and methods. The mariner
i. ..j i.Ij oh'irf the itrchitect. bis nlan. and
lit-', Ill - " ' , - " T
the sculptor his model, and all as a means
and condition of success. Invention,
genius, or even what is sometimes called
inspiration, can no nine in any depart
ment of theoretic or practical science, ex
cept as it works by a well-formed plan.
Then every step is an advance toward
the accomplishment of the object. Every
tocir rf the shin made according to niiu-
n -' 1 n
Iotxt l-whi her Kteudilv nearirnr the
llt.ni i - - j o
port. Each stroke of the chisel brings
the marble into a closer likeness to the
model. No effort of time is lost, for
nothing is done rashly or at random.
Flattery is an ensnaring quality, and
leaves a very dangerous impression. It
swells a man's imagination, entertains his
vanity, and drives him to a doting upon
his own person.
The Grave f General Zacliary Taylor.
The grave of General Zachary Taylor,
twelfth President of the United States,
is in a little graveyard about five miles
from Louisville, Ky., on a by-road leading
into what is known as the Uiownsboro
Koad. It is on the land that Colonel
Bichird Taylor, a distinguished soldier
of the revolution, and father of President
Taylor, settled uiton in 1773. The bixly
of Colonel Taylor and other members of
the family are also burled there.
The tomb of the President was long
suffered to remain neglected, ami was
rapidly falling to decay, but recently re
ceived the attention of Mr. Richard H.
Taylor, a nephew of General Taylor, who
has had it put in proper repair. The iron
gate has been painted black, and the nar
row walk to the President's tomb has
been cleared and widened. The greatest
transformation, however, has been effected
in the interior of the sepulchre. The
loose and jutting stones have been re
placed, and the rough front has Iteen
ground down to a smooth and polished
surface. New earth has been placed in
the cavities, and the summit has been
cleared of the briers and brambles which
covered it. The otner graves in the In
closure, that have not been visible for
years, now appear under the shadow of
spotless marble slabs. The interior is a
room of solid masonry, altout eight feet
square. In it are deposited two colli un
of stained jioplar, resting upon marble
bases. The one contains all that was
mortal of the Kentucky chieftain, and
the other holds the remains of his faithful
consort. At the rear of the room is a
bust of General Taylor. The inscription
on the tomb is: "Z. Taylor, born No
vember -Mth, 1774. Died July Dth, ISoO."
A Touch of the Whip. I noticed,
when once riding on the top of a stage
coach, that the driver, at certain points
on the road, gave one of his forward
horses a slight touch of his whip; and, as
the horses were going at a fair pace, tasked
him why ho did it. He replied that that
horse had been in the habit of starting
and sheering at something seen or imag
ined, at those places on the road, ami a
touch of the whip just lie fore arriving
there gave him something to think of, so
that he passed by without noticing what
before startled him.
Is it too much to believe that He who
is conducting many sons and daughter
to glory, notices all the perilous points
they pass, ami, when the case require it,
directs their thoughts ami purpone front
dangerous directions, by giving them
such things to think of as will break the
force of temptation, and secure them from
wandering? A sail bereavement, a bitter
lis.ipjKiintment, a serious illness, a pecu
niary loss, as the hour of temptation is at
hand, is thetouch of the whip. It awakens
serious thought. It drives the soul to
prayer. It dims the false brightness of
things earthly, ami gives fresh vividne
ami power tothings heavenly and eternal,
so that, under such spiritual influences,
the Mints of danger are safely passed,
Mini the rest of life's journey is traveled
all the more safely, ami the prospects of
heaven are made all the blighter.
A Justice Who Wouldn't. -Yesterday
forenoon an honest-looking man called
into the ollice of a justice of the peace
ami wanted tit know if he could commence
suit against a neighbor for assault ami
batter'. He was informed that he could,
ami he brightened up and continued:
"Well, make out a lawsuit right away.
lie kicked uic mighty hard, ami I want
you to plug the law l ight to him."
As the justice reached for a warrant his
visitor asked :
"How much will you fine him?"'
"I can't tell anything about the case
until it is tried," was the reply.
"Then he may get off!"
"And I may have the costs to pay?"
"And you won't agree to fine him?"
His Honor began to read a frigid letter
on the practice of law, but the man for
whom it was intended started tor the door,
"I won't fool around with law. I've
got three dogs and two grown-up sons,
ami I guess the whole pile of us can lick
him blind in two minutes!" Detroit
Ax Easy Question to Answer. One
of our citizens is blessed, or otherwise,
with a very stubborn wife. In his case
he finds that when a "woman will she
will, you may depend on't." This m-cu-liarityof
disposition in his wife is no se
Oct among his associates, and one of
them meeting him the other day asked:
W , do you know why you are
like a donkey?"
"Like a donkey !" echoed W , open
ing his eyes w ide. "No, I don't."
"Do you give it up?"
"Because your better half is stubborn
"That's not bad. Ha, ha! I'll give
that to my wife when I get home."
"Mrs. W ," he asked, as he sat down
to supper, "do you know why I inn like
a Ion key "
lie waited a moment, expecting his
wife to give it up, but she didn't; she
looked at him some what commiseratingly
as she answered :
"I suppose because you was born so."
W has abjured the habit of put
ting conundrums to his wife. Limrenee
John Hussell Youno, who has been
writing very entertaining letters from the
South to the New York Jlerald, mourns
his inability to find any Democratic
negroes. He says the political education
of the negroes at present embraces a ueu
timent and a fact. The sentiment is Lin
coln; the fact is Grant. Mr. Young's in
quiries have convinced him that the hun
ger of the blacks for education is as keen
as ever. "I am told," he writes, "that
the negro is as anxious to read and write
as he used to be to own a yellow cravat."
PtntH modiste ami milliners -ronfe
that the American fashionables residing
in that capital are its life and pocket
book to an appreciative extent.
Sacred nest of Betrothals.
It is asserted aud no doubt truly, that
engagements of marriage are made w ith
much more solemnity and are less fre
quently broken in the old countries than
in our own land. Every little village and
social circle knows Its instances of broken
vows, aud the memory of the aged is
thronged with cases of them many of
them full of sadness, wreck, and bitter
ness in their consequences.
The terms "betrothal," "espousal,"
"affiance," "engagement," are all used,
with some varying shades of meaning,
to denote the contract or agreement niad
between two persona to take each other
as husband ami wife. They are words ex
pressive in their origin and use of the
firmest fidelity, and the covenant pledge
understood under them is strong us any
that can be math in the business truns
acti.,u of Jif?, v jt't the ad 'ed sanction
that it affect higher and holier interests.
The breaking of this covenant is false
hood ami fraud, and, so far as God is
called to witness the making of it, per
jury. The parties cng iged are man ami
wife, except that they do riot enter ujoii
the full conjugal relations sanctioned by
the marriage rite. A betrothed woman
unfaithful to her vow, was to be treated
by God's law like an adulterous wife.
(Deut. xxii. 2.) It Is also to bo noticed
that our divine Lord has honored both
conditions, that of espousal and of mar
riage, by assuming them to himself as the
highest figures of his relationship to his
church, the first more properly denoting
the alli incing to it here on earth, and the
second his return at the lut from the
marriage and the marriage supper.
The man is in most cases the party to
break the engagement ; the woman, to her
honor, is u.ually thu faithful one, and,
as elsewhere, the sutTeicr. The vow of
betrothal may, indeed, in some cases, be
set aside by full and mutual agreement.
When the man, for frivolous reasons, ex
torts a release from the woman, as is
sometimes done, und can always easily
be done by persistent and studied cold
ness and neglect, or by attentions to
another, ami so compels a high-minded
Christian girl to semi him a release that
he evidently desires, but makes the break
ing of the pledge to gain it seemingly her
act instead of his ow n, he has only added
mean rascality to his sin of falsehood and
jH'ijury. But it may be that after engage
ment, there may be dincovcrcd disquali
fications for marriage; or that the whole
courtship aud alliance w as a mere childish
affair; or that both purtles sec their utter
unfitness for each other, and can part with
mutual respect, or it may be found that
there wa fraud in making the contract,
und so it was void of itself from thu be
ginning; then, in these ami like cases,
there may be no wrong hi giving up mi
engagement. But other ie,he w ho breaks
it ought to bear a name of treachery and
But it in iy be aked, What shall one
do who is pludged, yet lepeuts, and
wishes to break the engagement? . Do
just what an honest man would do with
any other contract ; go forward and ful
fill it. There ale cases ami causes, as we
have seen, for a release; but beyond these,
troth is sacred, Aud its claims are not
hard. Doing the thing that is right,
usually soon makes it pleasant, and
brings peace at the last. 1 he things that
lead the alliiuced to think of a change
are not uually very serious. If all were to
break engagements because on nearer ac
quaintance they fount their alHanccd w as
not an angel, very lew pledges would hold.
The parties are to go forward feeling that
they are pledged, and that there can be
mi change, resisting the first thought of
change, expecting to discover some traits
and points not so pleasant, but meeting
and moulding them In kindness aud for
bearance, and so fulfilling their vows.
Parties that seemed as unsuitcd to each
other as could well be, have proved well
matcl.ed In the end.
As preventives of broken engage
ments, wc may say that care in making,
and conviction of their sacreduess ami in
violability when mule, are of course
among the chief. "Popping the question"
is a very descriptive term. It Is an evil
in our land that young persons go so early
Into society, ami act so cany for them
selves. It is one that first arrests the at
tention of the ChrUtiaii visitor from
abroad. No wonder that young persons
ami children, who ure allowed the liberty
they have among us, should fancy them
selves old and w he enough, w hen quite
immature, to become engaged, or to bo
in in ied, without consul ling their parents.
The Churchmnn. ,
A Great Mistake. Boys and men
sometimes start out in lite with the idea
t i tiit one's success depends on sharpues
and chicanery. I hey Imagine if a man
is able al a ays to "get the bent of a bar
gain," no matter by what deceit and
n , . . ! ! . .... .1. .. 1.1 .
meanness oceanic in poiui, maw m
prosperity is assured. This is a great
mistake. Enduring prosperity cannot
be founded on cunning aud dishonesty.
The tricky ami deceitful man Is sure to
fall a victim, sooner or later, to the in
fluences which are forever working
against hhn. His bouse is built upon the
sand, ami its foundations will be certain
to give way. Young people cannot give
these truths too much weight. The future
of that young man is sate who eschews
every phase of double dealing and dis
honesty, and lays the foundation of his
career in the enduring principles of ever
Thf. plan of the Centennial ground
embraces seven miles of roads and f tot
paths, bridges across shaded and precip
itous ravines, summer-house, und numer
ous fountains fed from George's Hill
Reservoir, jut outsido tho iuclostire.
This contains 40,000,000 gallons; but la
addition to this source tho river, which
skirts the northern rim of the exhibition
grounds, will supply, through pumping
engines, 0,000,000 gallons more a day.
At a young ladies' seminary recently,
during an examination in history, one of
the most promising pupils was interro
gitcd: "Mary, did Martin Luther die a
nttural death?" "No," was the reply
"he was excommunicated by a bull."