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About The Columbian. (St. Helens, Columbia County, Or.) 1880-1886 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 13, 1882)
i . 7 J i ! ' i f i. 1 w 4 - 2 t yol. m. ST. HELENS, COLUMBIA COUNTT, OREGON, OCTOBER 13, 1882. NO. 10. 1 i I CO W K AY . . - - ,. . i i i i i i ii. i i h I i! If. THK III Nil OF FATK. Intolerant skepticism and intolerant belief are only tho two extreme of the same thing. There is a fautacism in un belief not less absolute than the fanta- cism which established the inquisition or lighted tho fires of Smithlield. La Harpe, the celebrate! materialist, is said to have fought a duel with a friend, who had asserted the existence of his own conscience. Sneli a skeptical fanatic was I at tho date of the events I am about to relate. was president of a society for the suppression of supersti tion! I believed in nothing beyoud the ken of my five senses. I was a furious enemy of dreams,., omens and presenti ments, and ghosts and spirits. I was not likely, therefore, to have been misled by snierstitions credulity or per verse imagination in regard to tho cir cumstances. 1 was living: in bachelor lodgings in a uiet street in the" upper part of the city. I went little into society and had few friends. I spent most of my even ings, consequently in the seclusion of ray room, with no company but my boeks. One autumn evening I reached home at a late hour, but feeling no desire to sleep, I lighted my lamp and sat down by the table for the purpose of finishing 9. volume which I had been reading. It was a dissertation on a favorite subject of mine, namely; The physical causes of dreams and apparitions, the author tracing ail spectral appearances to illu- lusions brought about by disordered nervous functions. I was deeply inter ested and read on steadily until after midnight. Suddenly, and without warning, my light flickered and went out. - For a mo ment the room was in intense darkness. I had drawn the curtains before the windows, and the tire in tho grate had died down long before. Just as I was on the point of impatiently rising to light my lamp, I was nailed to my chair by a strange phenomenon. Against the opposite waif of my room a faint glow of light began to appear. Iu shape it was like the circular patch which is thrown by a camera upon a screen. It contin ued to increase in brilliancy till the whole room was a glare of light equal to noonday. It was as if a circular win dow had been cut in the wall, admitting the full power of the sun. For an instant surprise held me dumb and motionlsss; then I arose, and going to the wall placed my hand upon the patch of light. I observed that my hand cast no 6hadow, and that, therefore, the light did not come from behind.' Puz zled, but by no means alarmed, I went back to the chair, calmly resolved to watch the matter to its conclusion. For a moment the light remained clear and stead y; then a slight mist seemed to overspread it. Out of the mist, by slow degrees, a picture was evolved. There was a wide, deep river, crossed by a railroad bridge, in the fore ground. I could see here and there a vessel drifting idly with the tide, for it appeared to be a still, wafni day. Iu the distance the hills looked bine and hazy. There were white clouds in the sky, and at a distance the tmoke from a town on the river bank rose lazily into the air. I could note and memorize every de tail the color of the wooden trestle of the railroad bridge, the shape and num ber of the signal boards; the peculiar arrangement of the telegraph wires. In fact, I could have sworn that I sat be fore an open window, looking upon a material landscape of real sky, earth and water. I noted, too, particularly, a weak spot near the center of the bridge. The bed of the road seemed to have warped" and several of the sleepers were decayed and loosened. I even said, un conscously: "There will be a terrible accident at that poir.t some day." . While I was gaping at the apparition with sensations impossible to describe, I observed the smoke of an approaching train. It rushed swiftly around a curve and upon the bridge with unabated speed. I was conscious of a feeling of intense interest in it. I felt very much like a person witnessing a drama with bight-wrought emotions, breathlessly watcning the action which is drawing to ward the tragic denouement. On came the train. I counted the cars; there were sixteen four of a yel lowish color and the remainder of a deep red. I saw on their sides the words, 'Northern New York and Canada Ii. R.' I saw that the engine's number was 12, and that the engineer, leaning out of the window toward me. was a large man with a red face and heavy black beard. As the train came upon the bridge there seemed to bo a sudden jar and stoppage. The engine leaped into the air like a frightened horse and rolled off the bridge, followed by six of the cars. There was an intense movement of alarm and horror, a shower of fire and a cloud of steam which for a moment hid every thing from sight. A moment afterward my attention was irresistbly drawn to two figures strug gling in the water. One was a girl, very young and beautiful, attired in a gray traveling suit. She had lost her bonnet, and her long fair hair was floating upon the water. The other figure was that of a man, whose appearance gave me a shock of strange surprise. I seemed to recognize him, though his face was turned away. At first he seemed to be making prepara tions to strike out vigorously toward the shore. Then he seemed to catch sigh t of tie young girl, for ho turned, and, swim ming toward her, supported hers on one arm, while with the other he kept both of them afloat. At this moment I caught sight of his face. I started up and uttered a shout of absolute terror. It was my own face, white and stern with excitement and resolution that I saw before me. As if my voice had broken the spoil, the light landscape, wrecked train and struggling swimmers disappeared like a Hash of lightning. I rnbbed-my eves and looked around. The' light was buru iug as brightly as before. The book I had been reading had slipped from my hand to the floor. I perceived then I had been merely dreaming u. vivid dream. To say that I was not startled would be untrue. I was very much moved, but it was neither with superstitious fear nor the slightest faith. Here; I thought, was a good opportunity to put ray favorite theories into practice. I liad dreamed a dream of such distinctness and detail that it might be readily be supposed to le a fore-warning. That it would prove to be nothing of the sort I was perfectly convinced. I would write down the cir cumstances, and when jthe event had proven them wholly false, use the whole as a knock-down argument against all faith in any forewarning whatsoever. On further investigation I confessed that I was somewhat perplexed. I found that there was such a railroad as the Northern New York and Canada, that the cars were of the color seen in my dream. I found furthermore, on conversing with a person who had traveled over the route, that tho road crossed the Black river on a trestle bridge, and that, viewed up tho river, the landscape would appear about as I had seen it. I was by no means convinced, however. I might have heard of the railroad in question, and forgotten the fact. The color of the cars was such as is common to railroads. The landscapa may have borne only a general resemblance to the Black river; moreover, my description of the one seen in my dream could at most have given a few salient points, such as hills, water, a distant town and a trestle bridge, common to a hundred other re gions in the country. Moreover, I could imagine no reason why I should travel over the route. My parents live in Northern New York, but in visiting them my course would be at least a hundred miles east of the Black river. The winter passed by with no renewal of my strange dream, aud the occurrence of no circumstance bearing upon it, and the whole matter passed out of my mem ory, j One morning I received a talegram from home to the effect that my father had been taken dangerously ill, and that his physician despaired of his life. Skeptic as I was, I was no infidel m the matter of my family affection. I made my preparations in haste, and took the night train for my father's home. On arriving at Utica, I learned that a freshet had washed out the track of the regular line, and that I should be compelled to take a branch road a score of miles far ther west. ' My dream now occurred to me. I wa3 traveling near the region I had dreamed of. One accident hid forced me nearer to it than I had any reason to anticipate. But I wa3 not foolish enough to sup pose that any set of circumstances would bring aboutthe f uldllment of my vision. During the night the train halted at a large town on the line and the passen gers were informed that another transfer would be necessary. The rains which had destroyed the track of the regular line had also thrown down a bridge on the branch. As I alighted in the dark and made my way to the train in waiting I admit that I was very much startled to read upon the side of the cars the words I had seen in my dream, "Northern New York and Cauala B. It." I counted 'the cars; they were sixteen in number four yellow and twelve red. My philosophy was considerably shaken. It seemed as if au irresistible "hand were forcing me to the fulfillment of my dream. But 1 was still stubborn in my unbelief. I resolved to investigate the matter still further, aud satisfy myself that I simply met with a series of coiuciderfces. Freshets' might occur on railroads with out the special intervention of destiny. Cars might be. of a certain color and number without proving dreams to be true. At the earliest peep of dawn I went through every car on the tfain, earnestly scanning the passengers' faces. I was looking for the girl in the gray traveling suit. I was highly elated to discover that no such person was on board. Here was one point in my favor. But very shortby this one point was opposed by two others of a very start ling kind. During a halt in the forenoon I alight ed and went forward to the engine. There upon the bra s piate on its Bide was the number 12. And as the engineer leaned from his window I was stunned to recog nize the -man in the dream, the red face and black whiskers. . I went back to my seat in a maze of wonder and dread. My incredulity was oozing out at my finger ends. Just as the train was about to start a carriage drove furiously up to the station and a late passenger was assisted aboard one of the forward cars as the wheels be gan to move. It was a woman, whose face I could not see, for she wore a veil, but her dress was of a light gray color and her figure that of a young girl. By this time I was thoroughly un nerved. I dared not go forward and en deavor to catch a glimpse of the girl's face. I feared to see tho face of my dream. I threw myself back into the corner of my seat and fell into a moody reverie. But, meantime, I gathered from the conversation of two of the passengers in the seat before me that we were to cross the B!ack river before noon on a trestle bridge. Presently the landscape on either side began to look strangely familiar. I caught glimpses of hills in the distance that seemed not new to me. A moment later, as the train passed through a cut ting and came in sight of the river I started up in terror. I beheld the land scape of my dream. The wide, deep current, the hazy hills, the trestle'bridge j tho pale, blue sky with its motionless clouds, the dropping sails of the vessels anil the distant town with its dun vapor rising into the air I had seen them all before. I was now prepared for the full reali zation of my dream. The last thread of unbelief had broken. I sprang out upon the platform as tho train ran upon the trestles and waited breathlessly for the crash I knew was coaling. The train ran on smoothly until it reached the center of the bridge, then there was a hideous jar, an explosion, a chaos of shouts, shrieks and crashes, and I found myself in the water, swimming for life. In an instant I remembered the con clusion of my dream. I turned about, and there, within a dozen feet of me, floated the figure in gray, with her long hair spread out upon the water and her beautiful eyes turned toward me in terri fied appeal. My dream had not told me whether I was to escape or die in the attempt to rescue the girl. But I never thought of that, I swam toward her, and passing my arm about her, struck out toward the shore. - It was a loug and desperate struggle. The river was wide and the current swift. I could make little progress with ny inert burden. I struggled on, growing weaker and weaker with every stroke. Presently I saw a boat pulling toward us. I uttered a shout and was answered. In another moment my companion was drawn into the vessel, anct utterly over come by my terrible efforts, I sank back into the water insensible. When I awoke to consciousness I was lying in bed and some one was bending over me. It was a woman, and she was weeping; I could feel her tears falling upon my forehead as she brushed back my damp hair. Presently the mist cleared away from my sight, and I recog nized the young girl whom I had res cued tho girl I had seen in my dream. She uttered a cry of joy when she saw that my eyes were open. She seized my hand and pressed it convulsively. "Thank heaven!" she said, "you will live." "Yes,'- said I, with a feeble smile, "since it is of importance to you." "I should never be happy agjnn," she sobbed, "if yon were o die after what you have done for mo." Being still very ill, yet anxious to reach my father, I resolved to get on at once. Finding me determined to proceed, my young friend insisted upon accom panying me the short distance I had to go. " It is needless to relate the details of the remainder of my journey; how, when I arrived, I found my father in a fair way to recovery, or how, in tho natural course of events, I fell in love with my beautiful nurse. When I returned to the city with my young wife, my friends discovered that I had left my old skepticism in tho depths of the Black river. I dis olvel my con nection with the "Anti-Snperstition Society," not without considerable jeer ing, which I could afford to forgive. I am now convinced that there are things in this world that our raw logi j will not account. My clearest proof is the doar wife whose life I was led to save for my self by tSe irresistible hand of fate. Bralu at mulatto i. Dr. Breunton in tho Contemporary Iteview says: The anatomist is fact that tlicra are sensation known as familiar with the two large nerves of tho "fifth pair" which are distributed to the top of the head and face, and to the mucous mem brane of the month, noae and eyes. These nerves are connected with the nerves which control the action of the heart and of the blood vessels. By their stimulation, the heart's action may be increased. This explains the fact that application of cold water or cold air to the face is one of the best means of re viving a person who has fallen in syn cope. It is a curious fact that people of all nations are accustomed, when iu any difficulty to stimulate one or an other branch of the fifth nerve and quicken the mental processes. Thus some persons, when puzzed, saratch their heads, others rub their foreheads, and others stroke or pull their beards, thus stimulating the occipital, frontal or mental'branches of these nerves. Many Germans, when thinking, have a habit of sticking their fingers against their noses, and thus stimulating the nasal cutaneous branches, while in other countries some people stimulate the branches distributed to the mucous membrane of the nose by taking snuff. The late Lord Drby, when translating Homer, was accustomed to eat brandied cherries. One man will eat figs .while composing a leading article; another will suck chocolate creams others will smoke cigarettes, and others sip brandy and water. By these means they stimu late the lingual and buccal branches of the nerve, and thus reflexly excite their brains. Alcohol appears to excite circu lations through the brain reflexly from the mouth, and to stimulate the heart reflexly from the stomach, even before it is absorbed into the blood. Shoitly after it was been swallowed, however, it is absorbed from the i stomach, and passes with the blood to the heart, to the brain, and to the other parts of the nervous system, upon which it begins to act directly. A Brooklyn boy wrote a composition on the subject of the Quakers, whom he described as a sect who never quarreled, nevei got into a fight, nover clawed each other and never jawed back. The pro duction contained a postscript in these words: "Pa's a Quaker, but ma isn't." J AGRICULTURAL. Trees that have a good top-dressing of straw, chip manure, sawdust or shavings will be found growing well during the hot months, while they will ripen up all the new wood well in the fall. Jbvory farmer should grow plenty of small and orchard fruits. When per fectly ripe they are healthful, and will keep the system in good order; but half ripe fruit is to bo shunned. A nice row of blackberries, raspberries, currants and the likV iround the garden fence affords substantial enjoyment. Dftn't relax any efforts in manure mak ing at any season of the year. If the cows are kept stabled at night, dry earth or sandy loam may be used for bedding to absorb the abundant liquid droppings made when at grass. Such manure should be abundantly supplied with absorbants, or the hogs will not work it from the heap. They may be encouraged some what by punching holes deep into tho piles and putting some shelled corn into the holes. Feeding young pigs is most profitable. A bushel of corn will produce more pounds of increase in weight when fed to a pig three months old. The cost of producing a given weight of pork in creases with tho age of the swine. If it is desirous to produce an increase of one ton of pork by feeding one hundred swine, that increase will be more cheaply obtained by feeding pigs under six months of age than by feeding those which are a year old and cider ones. The man who allows his younjj' pigs to have a scanty allowance of food permits the opportunity for most profitable feeding to slip by and is obliged to produce his pork at an increased cost by feeding when his swine are older. The Fall Calf. For many years I had an idea that a fall calf was hardly worth raising, and I find there are many farmers still of this opinion. After rais ing both spring and fall calves, I decid edly prefer the latter. My reasons are that I have more leisure to attend to a calf in winter than in summer; there are no flies to torment it, and tha milk is richer and keeps sweet. But my prin cipal reason is that spring is a more fa vorable time to wean a calf than fall. It requires as much care to keep a spring calf thriving the first.winter as a fall calf; and thus you have a whole year of spe cial care for the former, while tho latter goes on pasture at six months old, and will be past the nursing period by the next winter. Cabbage for Stock. Nearly five thou sand head of cabbage can be grown on an acre of ground, if the plants are set a yard each way. The size of the heads and weight in tons depends on he ma nure and method of cultivation, but as high a yield as thirty ton to the acre is not uncommon in New. England. They are easily kept during the winter, either by burying the heads in the ground, or by storing them in trenches with roots down and heads up, covering them with straw and boards. The latter method is better where they are to be fed every day. The cutting away of the heads leaves the stalks standing, which sprout in the spring, Eto furnish excellent greens for the table when such are very scarce. The disposition to market cab bages is generally too strong to permit of feeding them to stock; but if a care ful comparison is made between their market value and the benefit derived them in feeding, no objection will be made for using them for such purpose. Cabbages contain a fair proportion of nitrogen, and the outer leaves are more nutritious than the heart. Exchange. Handling Horses. Men differ greatly in the amonnt of-work they can get out of a team of horses, and the animals know this as well as the drivers. Some will fret and sweat a team when only drawing an empty wagon, while others will drive the same horses before a large ' load and not wet a. hair. This difference is more easily seen than described. Kindness in manner and tone of voice go a great way towards making the load draw easily, the owner's handling of the reins is frequently far different than that of the hired man. We have seen teams kept poor in flesh by the almost incessant worry from an ill-fitting harness, an un human jerking upon the bits, or a fre quent and injadicious use of the whip. Boys are not exempt from these stric tures. Many teams have had their use fulness impired by a disregard of the feelings of the horses. It is not the we'l fed horse only that does the most work and keeps in the best condition; he must also -have a kind master, and be treated with a just regard for equine sensibility. Agrioultualist. About Barbed Wire Fence. In build ing wire fence the chief requirement is an immovable end post. Several years experience has taught that an end post needs to be set very firmly, to be of extra size and length, and sO well braced that there can be no possible chance for it to be pulled over. The post had best be set three and a half feet from it, so that it may serve for a "foot" for the brace. I In carrying wire over the "ups and downs" o'f the land, it is disposed to "run," and the fence can be made much stronger, and also guarded against this by setting every tenth post Sleet and tamping it with small stones so to hold it secure. Then in crossing hollows, the tendency of the wire is to "lift," so that in the lowest places extra care should be taken and set one or mere posts very deep and secure, so that it cannot be af fected by the contraction of the wire. Always use the galvanized wire. Its cost is only one cent per pound more than the painted, which last is in reality no protection to the metaj, for it Boon peels off, and then to save the wire from rust, it has to be painted, and those only who have painted a barbed wire fence can enter into the spirit of a recital. Toombs an Lamar Bury Old Animosi ties In Ben Hili's Grave. The talk fell upon the funeral of Sena tor Hill.and Mr. Beck said it was plainly to be seen that while a great many of the people in Georgia did not like Hill, they were all proud of his intellect. . "I didn't look at him," said Mr. Beck; "I never look at dead people when I can help it. I just passed by the coffin: so I don't know bow he looked horribly un natural, Senator Morgan told me." "It was a time to bnry animosities' he continued "A great many were put out of sight in Ben Hill's grave. Bob Toombs and! Senator Lamar had not spoken since Lamar, in the house, had delivered hisjeulogy of Charles Sumner. I .knew all about it, and it seemed to me absurd that two men eaoh holding an idea he had a perfect right to maintain, should be so near together and not speak; so I said to Lamar: 'Come into my room, Toombs wants to see you." " 'No he idoesn't,' said Lamar. He has no use for me. You are mistaken.'" " I tell yoii he does. He asked if you were here;' and I gave Lamar a talking to for holding out with his differences. I told him that Toombs was an ; old man, would probably be dead in a year, and it was folly to keep up the estrangement. So Lamar went in with me, and shortly after we were all three riding about the city of Atlanta with Senator Brown, and Toombs was as hapyy as a clam." Speaking further of Toombs, Mr. Beck told how he took pride in holding out the bill of fare, and saying: See! vou all put on your! glasses to read it. while I can read it without. . Yet they say I am blind, or will be very soon," and he talked on about his eyes, which are really, of very little use to him, saying that he had lived so long and had so many things come into his life that he could shut his eyes and see more than the young fellows could with theirs open. He told how the oculists in Paris and NewYork had advised him to permit no operation with the knife so long as he could see at all, and he said, not without a glimmer jof fun, "D n 'em do you know I believe I will die before I go blind, and so fool 'em "all yet.' f Wash ington Corr.j Cincinnati Commercial. Tlie Cost or Llvia A discussion has been carried on re cently by several papers on the cost of keeping house by young married cou ples. A yodng mechanic at Springfield, Ohio, writes the following on the sub ject to the Louisville Commercial: I married two years ago,at the age of twenty four, and on a salary of 22 per week. Of this amount I allowed my wife $12 per; week for household expen ses including rent. At the end of the first year she had clothed herself and showed a balance of 29575 a saving of SO per weekt My clothing and neces sary expenses in the meantime reaching $55, makingj the total amount of neces sary expense the first year only 383 25. For the second year I allowed my wife $100 additional for clothing;my expenses reached 75) Of her 100 she saved 50 and said she had plenty. The second year closed 6n July 21, and our settle ment showed an additional balance in our favor of 400 from her allowance. I in the mean-time had saved and accumu lated nearly! 900. So we put our sav ings together and last week moved into a little house of our own, whioh is all paid for except about $300. Never at! any time have our total ex penditures exceeded 9.30 all told. We think a young couple who cannot live on 9 a week won Id -mike as great a fail ure on 22. I will add that I am a good liver and our table has always been am ply supplied. One thing I should men tion, however, is that I had bought nearly 5000 of furniture just be before our marriage. Fu!iIonabIe tiab.es. Next to dogs in importance come the babies and their maids. These are a de cided feature on the porches of the great hotels. Some of the nursemaids have, on their white caps, two long streamers of gay striped sash ribbon, reaching nearly to the ground behind; others will have a square of diaphanous veiling pinned ove their nurse-caps from the front. In one way or another the maid's attire must .minister to the whim or the pomp of the mistress. One particular girl baby, at the "States," rejoicing in the name of Cata lina, is carried about on a pillow resting in her nurse's arms, the pillowand the baby's dress being stiff with costly em broideiy on a sheer white groundwork, displayed one day over a pink founda tion, another day over a blue or laven der, and the maid's dress will be of chintz or gingham of exactly the same shade. Thus baby, pillow and nurse form a symphony . in blue, or pink, or purple, as I the case may b. This is called the prize baby" of the "States," and the Union has one nearly as fine. I don't know 'just why I am sorry for such pampered babies, but I aai. Said Emer son, "When 1 think how I am sparing my boy all that made me the bare footed chambers and the stern denials of poverty I know I am making a mistake. But," he added, after a pause, "I cannot help it." Saratoga Corr. of the Provi dence Press. "E. H." wishes to know if a large Christmas pudding can be boiled in in stallments, so that it will ,be possible to have one 'ready for a 1 o'clock dinner. The better way is to make a smaller pud ding than -jthe recipe calls for, keeping the proportions the same, and then, of course, it will require less time to .cook. Or if to meet the requirements of tho family you heed to make the whole quan tity, divide! it in two parts and boil in separate kettles. SHORT BIT8. An idle man is like stagnant water; he corrupts himself. f Latena. y The great consulting room of a wise man is a library Dawson. 1 . In general, pride is at the bottom of all great mistakes. f Ruakin. Life always takes on the character of its motive. J. Q. Holland. . Grief counts the seconds; happiness forgets the hotfrsj f DeFinod. Our happinesses but an anhappinesa more or less conspled, (Dacw. - Keep good company and yon shall be of the number. I George Herbert. Adversity borrows its sharpest sting from impatience. Bishop Heme. A prison U never narrow when th imagination can range in it at will. Duties and -rights are inseparable; one cannot be delegated without the other. Whoever has loved knows all that life contains of sorrow and joy. George Sand. ' Where the mind inclines, the feet lead. Love climbs mountains. Arab Proverb. Notning is more dangerous to men than a sudden change of fortune. iQuintillian . , Modesty in a woman is a virtue most deserving, since we do all we can to cure her of it. Lingree. With God, how short Is the step from the greatest evil to the greatest good---Rev. S. F. Herron. Can one better expiate his sins than by enlisting his experience in the service of morals! De Bernard. Where life is more terrible than death, it is then the truest valor to dare to live. Sir Thomas Browne. There are three things that I have always loved and have never under stood: Painting, music and woman. Fontenelle: Newport ladies are dressing very plainly this season. They must do, something to distinguish themselves from their maids. The power of wordsis immense. A well-chosen word hasofton sufficed to stop a flying army, to change defeat into victory, and to save an empire. E. de Giardin. The Drouth or '49 "Stranger, I take it?" observed an el derly resident the otner day, as I stopped him and asked if there were, any black berry trees around his way. "I j edged so. I was a stranger myself when I fust kim here. That was in the summer of '49. Hottest summer ever known in these parts." "Any warmer than this?" I asked him. "Summut, summut! That summer of '49 the cedar trees melted and run right along the ground. You notice how red that ere dust is?" "Pretty warm," I'ventured. "Why, sir, during the summer of '49 we had to keep meat right on the ice to keep it from cookin' too fast, and we had to put the chickens in refrigerators to get raw eggs. "Where did you get the ice?" "We had it left over and kept it in b'ilin' waterl Yes, sir. The tempera ture of b'ilin' water was so-much lower than the temperature of the atmosphere that it kept the ice so cold yon couldn't ' touch it with your finger." Anything else startling that season?" "That summer of '49? Well, yes! The Hackensack river began to bile early in June and we didn't see the sky until October for the steam in the air! And fish! fish! They were dropping all over town cooked just as you wanted 'em! There wasn't auything but fish until the river dried up!" "What did you have then?" "The finest oysters and clams that yon ever heard of. - They walked right afthore for water and they'd drink apple-jack right out of the demijohn 1 Yes, sirl You call this hot! I feel like an over coat!" "What is your business?." I' asked of him. "I'm a preacher," he replied. MBj the way, yon wanted blaokberry trees. Just keep np the thumb-side of the road until you come to the big pasture, and there you will find the trees. Climb np on my goose roost mod yon can knock down all the berries yon want if yon can find a pole long enough." Brooklyn Eagle. SIftrrlage Insarauce Gamlllnff. A picturesque view of the "marriage insurance" system is givsn by a writer in a Southern paper. He was asked whether be thought the wedding of a certain young lady would take place at the time said to have been set. .He gave his opinion and asked the reason for the inquiry. "Oh," was the response, "I have bought four matrimonial policies of 3000 each on her, and I'm anxious to know if I'll get my money." "Does she know of this?" "Oh, no. That isn't necessary. Any body can take out a policy on anybody else. If you know of a lady that is en gaged and will not marry within five months from the time you take a policy on her, you can get any amount . cn her wedding that you want. I suppose there is 25,000 or perhaps double that on the young lady I asked you about." "How does the Company make its money?" "I suppose it bets on the fickleness of the young folks. No policy will be paid except five months after it is taken out. There are very few couples they think tnat love each other well enough to marry that will wait five months to marry. If they do, five months of engaged life is full of dangers." I