THE INDEPENDENT, 4 pn!HUltD THE INDEPENDENT Advertising R&to: LEGAL ADTKaTKHTI (.) On quar or Im, on Intortloa 91 W Uua jur cb ub-rqavBt laMrttoa W BMIJIICM AUVrRTIKKXKVTI )ln,t .IndeDenden Evemr TTiTrsrl'iw Tehran to II is. l it c i - Old Court House, TIMI. ool X cul 1 col. Office, 1 niouttt... t 00 4 m 00$ I 00 t 00 til 80,M 00 HILLS ISO HO, OUEOOS. 1 month. 4 on 8 00 1 to on IT H n so 88 00 80 CO S month. It 00 MOD 13 ' R Id Terms of Subuci Iptlon feoiu rate.) Single copy per year SI SO Uncle copy ix mouth 1 5" SLnt'le number month. T so 10 ooj IT vi HILLSBORO, WASHINGTON COUNTY, OREGON, THURSDAY, APRIL 20, 1876. VOL. 4. NO. 3. irr. WOO, 110 (M 25 (d so out to 00 Washington 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 mea.su re. "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 child." 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 sorrow. "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 into it." 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, of course. "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. "Hinry Mallows." 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 of it. "I can help you," said I. "Can you f" he asked, his face bright ening considerably. "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 again. "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 was?" 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 of taste. 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 once, more. and since then dwells forever Washington Trrinrj. The clove is a native of the Malacca Islands, as also is the nutmeg. Our Daughters. 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 dresses. Teach them that a dollar is one hun dred cents. Teach them how to cook a goitd meal of victuals. Teach them every common sense. Teach them h. tw lay hard, practical to darn stockings ain! sew on buttons. Teach them to ftxt up store bills iu- 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 the poorhouse. 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. Shark. 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 chance. 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 liver. 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 hint away. 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 w 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!" "Yes." "And I may have the costs to pay?" "Yes." "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, saying : "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 Free Pre. 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?" "I do." "Because your better half is stubborn ness itself." "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 Anteriean. 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 falsehood. 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 lasting truth. 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."