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HV B- T* H°HBS. A Government in the Interest of the People. $2.00 PER ANNUM. ~tSS VOLUME I. BROOKHAVKN, MISSISSIPPI, THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 13. 1883. NUMBER 30.

THE FARMER'S WIFE.

The ra«t is gray with a Mush of rose, n rd« are singing the world awake.

Tim farmer a wife has no time to pause, she has the early meal to make;

Vor well 'lie knows on this summer day Men are far too busy to wait

« hen they are ready to cart the hay And the wagons stand at the gate.

tth’ but the flowers In the garden are fair! And oh' but the wind is cool and sweet!

Phe has her daily duty and care

To keep her busy, both hands and feet. Perhaps tor a moment her heart does turn

To the shady wood and the rippling brook. Hut bread is to bake, and butter to churn,

And the twelve o'clock dinner to cook.

Perhaps in the warm afternoon, once more something within did strongly plead

For the rocking-chair by the open door, And a plensant paper to read;

But men are hungry among the hay; Weary workers must still tie fed;

pile gets the Hour and the kneadlng-tray, Ami she cheerfully makes the bread.

Phe is hot and tired, when sweet and still The moon comes up like a peaceful psalm;

Phe feels tier heart to Its beauty thrill. She longs to sit in its holy calm:

But now the children must go to bed: Who but a mother can hear their prayers?

Tin- r little torn coats wait needle and thread— Oh! these are the sweetest of all her cares.

Phe sits with a smile on her weary faco. The toil of the day is counted not;

I,,,vr gives to labor a tender grace, Hurrv and heat are unite forgot,

fin need to pity the patient heart Mis-ing the pomo und pride of life.

For hers is a w oman's noblest part— Honored Mother, and trusted Wife.

— Lillie K. Harr, in X. F. Lftyer. ^ --

DREAMS.

Vain Fantasies, the I’hililren of an title ISraln—The .Marked Difference Del ween

Coincidence* anil tVarnln**— a Few Hard

Nuts for rhllosopher* to Crack. •• Dreams are but children of an idle brain.

Depot of nothin)? but vain fantasy.” —.Shakespeare.

■' Well may dreams present iis notions, Sinfce our waktm? moments toein

With such fanciful convictions As inako life Unci'’ a dream.”

—Campbell. Wlmt is a dream? Is it a temporary

frolic of the brain which, released from the guidance of reason, relaxes from rules and laws and indulges in a little incoherent amusement of its own, as

tin* chairs and tables are said to do when the family lias gone to bed and the house is still? l)oes it originate and invent its fantastic images, or are

they merely the shadows anu echoes of past events? Is it a psychological in- thience or a spiritual one, or a

blending of both? There certainly have been dreams that foretold events which came true, and how, then, did the sleeper get hjs premonitory knowl- edge? Bottles of hot water placed to the feet will produce certain impres- sions and dreams of vague and unsatis- factory nature. Ice, applied to the temples, will give happy dreams, in which rare colors appear before the dreamer’s eyes. But these are effects caused by the bodily sensations, and arc communicated to the brain by nerves, not by occult intelligence. A French writer is quoted as saving that to dream gloriously we must act glori- ously while we are awake, and to bring down angels to con- verse with us in our sleep we must labor in the cause of virtue during the day. There can be no possible doubt that the same idea or train of ideas which pursues us through the day fol- lows us into the land of dreams and runs up and down the ladder of sleep with a persistency which often is annoy- ing and wearisome. Sometimes the iiiea that eluded us in the day comes to us at night. Musicians have found a

lost chord in their dreams; mathematic- ians have decided abstruse calculations by the correct figures which their wak- ing minds could not grasp, but which came to them clearly when they were

sound asleep and were with them when they awoke. Franklin had several of his projects decided for him by dreams. Sir J. Herschel composed poetry in his sleep, which he committed to paper on

awakening. Goethe says, in Ins me- moirs: The objects which had occu-

pied my attention during the day often reappeared at night in connected dreams. In the morning I was accus- tomed to record my dreams on paper.” Coleridge composed his poem of the “Abyssinian Maid” in a uream. and it was said of Lord Jeffrey that, although he went to bed at night with events, plans and dates all in a whirl in his head, during sleep “they all cry stal- ked around their proper centers.”

It is considered among people of edu- cation and refinement a vulgar habit to relate dreams or attach any importance to them; yet,we are told of Lord Bacon that he himself records a dream in which he saw his father's house in the country plastered all over with black mortar, and he had no doubt on waking that he should hear bad tidings. It ac-

tually proved true, as his father died on the veiy night on whicii he dreamed. When Postmaster Jewell was dying he awoke from a brief sleep and inquired if anything was wrong in the family of -, mentioning his brother-in-law’s name. They told him there was not, when he remarked: “Very strange,” and added that he had dreamed there was. His brother-in-law had just died, hut the family deemed it best to keep the news from him, fearing fatal re- sults.

In the old Bible days young men saw visions and the old men dreamed dreams, and great importance was at- tached to them, as the history of Joseph shows. The Egyptians and Babylonians governed thier lives by dreams, as the Chinese do to-day. There is something more than an idle superstition in the matter; but, as all people are not dreamers, there are many who are ut- terly skeptical. There are incidents in the writer’s knowledge of dreams so re- markable that they can not be explained. If they were warnings, they failed to warn or to alarm, but they anticipated strange events. One was that of a little child who had never seen a coffin or looked on death. He sat at the break- fast-table eating his bread and milk, happy and in good health. Suddenly he looked up at his mother and said:

“Mamma, last night when I was

sleep a man came here with a pritty box for me.” Then he took some bread crumbs and

showed his mother the shape of the box. Her heart stood still, for it was the ex- act outline of a coffin, and in less than a week her darling was buried, a vic- tim to spasmodic croup.

A Mrs. Griffin had several sons

grown to manhood, one of whom—her eldest and best beloved—was away from home. The mother slept alone, in

a bed-room off the sitting-room. In the night she dreamed that her son came home, entered the sitting-room,warmed himself at the fire, took off Ids coat and hung it over a chair, and looked In at her a moment, as was his habit before retiring. She tried to speak to him, but could not. In the morning she awoke with the impression that ho had really come home and looked for his coat and hat, but, as it was not there, concluded ho had taken it up-stairs with him. At breakfast, as he did not ap- pear, she sent one of his brothers up to call him, but the young man carue back and said his bed was not disturbed and he had not returned. While they were

eating breakfast he rode into the yard on a powerful black horse he had just bought. All the family turned out to welcome him and inspect his new

purchase, and as he stepped out with the animal to show it off it kicked at him viciously, killing him on the spot. Four of the five sons in that family died violent deaths, and in each case the mother had a remarkable dream. Iiut these are coincidences rather than warnings, and are not sus-

ceptible of any coherent or scientific analysis. That mysterious reflex chord which unites kindred may act as an

imperfect spiritual telegraph wire over which ill news travels in ghostly, intan- gible shapes, but it is worked by no human agency. As the moon controls the tides in their ebbing and flowing, so do the powers of air control our world of dreams. It is only when we

give them reasoning or perceptive facul- ties that we make a mistake, and over- value their power.

Ignorant people fortify themselves with what is called a dream-book. By reading it for an interpretation we find that to dream of snakes denotes an ene-

my; to dream of a looking-glass, trea- son; to dream of receiving letters is a

got d omen; to dream of pearls, pover- ty and miser}-; to dream of peanuts you will be poor, contented, hearty and hap- py; to dream of a peacock is a sign of poverty; to dream of a wedding is a

sign of a funeral, and to dream of a

funeral you will go to a wedding. It is believed that certain days and con-

ditions will regulate the quality of the dream.

To-night, to-night is Friday night, Lay me down in ditty white;

Dream who my husband is to be; And lay my children by his side. If l’in to live to be his bride.”

Fortune, marriage and death are the eveuts which the dreamer is always endeavoring to interpret. The first two belong naturally to those who are

beginning life. Gamblers think a

great deal of their dreams, in regard to cards, hut as it is hard to control those erratic messengers a class of peo- ple called fortune-tellers do the dream- ing for a consideration and predict luck. The queen of hearts is con-

sidered favorable to marriage and riches. To dream of this card is great good luck. The jack of spades is an

ill omen. Taere are conditions at- tached to the objects dreamed of, as

this: A maid who dreams of verdant proves, Will surely have the man she loves; lint if the groves arc nipped with frost, She’ll be sure in m image cross’t.”

if a young man dreams of marying a pretty girl, he will bo sure to marry a simpleton; and if a girl dreams she has a uiee-looking lover, it is a sure

sign she will take up with a putty- head.

To dream you love a girl who’s pretty, Foretells that you’ll in sorrow part ;

Hut if you lireiun she's wise and witty. She’ll be the darling of your heart.

There is this peculiarity of dreams— they all stop just short of fullillment. If we dream of a banquet we awake just as we raise the viands to our lips. H e dream of thirst, but not of quench- ing it. We dream of flying, and just as we launch out and are about to en-

joy the delightful sensation of floating in space we awake with a bumped head from having come in contact with the floor. The dreams of an opium cater are said to be delightful, but not so arc

the contortions and shrieks which ac-

company them. The same law of con-

tradiction which is used poetically to

express the meaning of dreams may be applied to their actions. When a baby smiles sweetly in its sleep the mother says it dreams of angels, but the doctor explains that it has the stomach-ache. Lover gives the correlative of "This very prettily in his ballad of Kory O’More:

Now, Kory, I'll cry if you don’t let me go. Sure I dbramc every night that I'm liatiug

you no.” Oeh,” says Kory, “that same I’m delighted to

hear. For dhraines always go by contraries, my

dear.” —Detroit Post and Tribune.

Chicago Marriage Statistics.

The County Clerk issued 163 marriage licenses during the past week. There were three brides who were but 16 years old. In one case the groom was

13 years older, in one 10 years, and in another 7 years. A groom of 50 years was married to a bride of 26 years. The average age of the men was 28 years and of the women 23 years. Of the former there were seventy-three who were 25 years or less, ami only seven between 40 and 50 years. Fifty- live were between the years of 25 and 30, and twenty-eight between 30 and 40. Of the women four were between 40 and 50 years. The largest number, eighty, were between 20 and 25 years. Twenty- three were between 25 and 30 years, and forty-seven 20 years or less.

An unusual occurrence was the ap- plication of George A. Hamilton for two licenses, which were issued to him. His explanation was that, he being a Cath- olic and the lady to whom he is to be married a Protestant, and both desiring to have the marriage solemnized ac-

cording to the laws of the church to which they were members, he found it necessary to have two licenses. The statutes compel the clergyman who of- ficiates at the marriage to make a re-

turn to the County ( lerk, with his cer-

tificate attached. The clergyman who officiates at the first ceremony would have to retain the license and make his return under it. The clergyman who officiates at the second ceremony must also make a return, which, of course, he could not do without having a li- cense, and the only way out of the dif- ficulty—the first clergyman having the original license—was to obtain a second license.—Chicago Inter Ocean.

—Connecticut has a boy whose arm

grows out of the middle of bis back.

How the Mountains tlrew.

The interesting question of the origin nml riso of the mountain chains has been made the subject of more especial in- vestigation by French and American than by English geologists. Nearly half a century ago the late Eliede Beau- mont gave to the world the result of his researches, in his Systcme des Mon- tagnes,” in which he propounded an

hypothesis that still receives very gen- eral acceptance on the continent, but wdiich, except in a moditied view, lias found few supporters in this country.

Assuming for our globe an outer solid crust with a central liquid mass, this distinguished geologist showed that the eartli is incessantly losing some portion of its heat by radiation from its surface, and that this process of cooling, which has been going on at a slow rate from th<‘ earliest geological times, causes the central mass to contract and lessen in volume. This lessening of the heated nucleus has led t he crust to contort itself in order to fit or adapt itself to the diminished volume of the central nucleus, causing the crust to wrinkle or

fold in great corrugations or to fract- ure, and the fractured edges to squeeze up in lines of mountain chains.

He showed that mountain chains have been formed at all geological periods, and that their relative age could be as-

certained by determining the age of the tilted mountain strata, and the age of those strata which abut horizontally against their base. For it is evident that the mountain range must have been elevated before the deposition of tlie strata which lie horizontally at their base, and which are unaffected by the disturbance that threw up the mount- ains. It follows, therefore, that the mountain chain is older than the hori- zontal strata and newer than the tip- heaved strata. Thus the age of any mountain range is easily determined, relatively to the successive groups of strata forming the sedimentary series.

Kite de Beaumont further argued that as tin; crust of the eartli must have be- come thicker by secular refrigeration it follows that the crust was thinner and less strong at the earlier period of the earth’s history tiiau of the later periods, and, consequently, that the crumplings and mountain cha ns, although more

frequent, were not on so large a scale in early geological times as when t he crust had become thicker and more rigid.

But although there is no doubt that some of the oldest mountains are very insignificant in height, we have no

means of knowing wiiat their original altitude was or how much of their mass

has been removed by wear and denuda- tion. Some of the hills in the neigh- borhood of St. J>avis, in South Wales, are neither majestic nor lofty, yet they are among the earliest of our mountain ranges.

Or look, again, at a range of hills of much later date, yet still very old, as

for example, at the Mendips in our own

country, and the Ardennes in Belgium, both portions of the same mountain chain, taised before the formation of our Oolitic hills of Bath and Chelten- ham, or of the Lias cliffs or Lyme Regis. It is possible that this range, which is now of comparative insignifi- cance in no case attaining a height of 2,000 feet in either England or Belgium —formed at one time a lofty mountain chain. For, judging from the portions that are wanting and have been re-

moved from the Mendips, it lias been estimated that those hills may at one

time have had an elevation of not less than 6,t)<>0 to 8,000 feet above the plains of Somersetshire, while the Belgian ge- ologists have shown that tlie Ardennes might have soared from 15,000 to 18,- 00o feet above the plains of Belgium. This chain, now so unimportant, may at one time have vied with the later formed Alps and Apennines in height and gsandeur. How strange and strik- a picture our corner of Western Eu- rope must have presented to that early age, when the English Channel was not. ami when a great chain oi mountains, possibly snow-capped, ranged from the Mendips to Westphalia! The portions which remain are, as it were, the worn-

down stumps of this great mountain chain, the whole of the vast superin- cumbent mass having been removed bv wear and denudation continued through long geological times. And such has been the case in many other mountain regions of our globe; on the one hand deformation being produced by subter- ranean forces, and on the other planing down and levelling by meteorological agencies—Good Words.

-m • •»' —

Long Suffering Bruin.

In the fall of 1879 Jacob Ehrout, a

hunter and trapper, set a trap for a

bear near a large swamp among the logging camps of this county, and a

few miles from Gregg’s settlement. Bears were unusually plenty in the woods that year, and one of immense size had been seen several times in the neighborhood of the swamp, but it had eluded all efforts of hunters to capture it. The trap mentioned was set for the special purpose of ensnaring this bear. In setting a bear-trap a triangular pen is constructed out of small logs or sap- lings. In this inclosure the trap, which is a ponderous steel affair, with sharp- toothed jaws, is set. From it a chain extends to the* outside of the pen, and is fastened to a heavy piece of timber. The trap is placed so that if a bear en-

ters to secure the meat or honey which is placed in the pen to attract him he can not avoid stepping on the pan of the trap, the jaws of which instantly spring shut, sinking their teeth deep in the flesh of the bear’s paw. The bear's efforts to escape with the trap is prevented by the timber to which it is chained, which becomes interlocked in the trunks of trees and hold Bruin cap- tive. It happens once in a great while that the bear succeeds in dragging the trap and timber for miles, but they so

retard his progress that the trapper finds no difficulty in coming up with him and ending his misery with a ritle- ball. It is not an infrequent occurrence

for a bear to obtain its freedom by tear-

ing off' the imprisoned paw and leaving it in the trap, and many old hunters affirm that bears have been known to

deliberately gnaw off an imprisoned paw and make their escape. This is what the trapper Ehrout claims the bear did which he set the trap for re-

ferred to above, for when he visited the

pen next morning he found the trap on the outside, and fast between its A_A * At 1__At __t t_1__

from its lacerated leg for a mile, where l it entered the swamp, which was so

dense that no man could enter. Dogs were sent in, and from the fact that some of them never came out, while others returned with torn flesh, it was

surmised that the bear had been over-

taken by them, but could not be over-

come. Nothing more was seen or heard of the brute, and it was the opinion that it had probably received injuries from

j which it ilied. Early in the present season a party ot

Philadelphia gentlemen were trout-nsh- ! ing in the vicinity of the settlement,and one day they reported having seen a

: very large bear cross the creek not far : from their camp, and that when it climbed out of the stream on the other side it limped as if it had been injured. A hunt was organized, but, although it lasted three days, the bear was not found. Two smaller ones were killed near the head-waters of the creek, one

of which killed the dog of a hunter named Haynes, and forced the hunter himself to a hand-to-hand fight before it received its death wound. About three weeks ago a sheep, a pig and a

calf belonging to residents of the settle- ment disappeared from the inclosure, and a few (lays afterward some children returning from school saw a large bear cross the road within a quarter of a

mile of the school-house. They re-

ported that it was very large and only had three legs. Ao doubt was felt that the bear hatl made the inroads on the pastures and pig-stiles of the settle- ment, but an extended hunt failed to

bring Bruin down, although his trail was struck several times and followed for miles, lie exhibited more than the usual cunning of his kind in escaping from his pursuers. It was decided finally, to give up hunting for him. and to set a nightly watch at the pastures, in the hope that he might return for more mutton or veal and be captured. The watch was kept up without being

Harvey Strang were acting as sentinels at the sheep pasture of the first-named when, about ten o’clock, a huge dark object was seen to mount the rail-fence not more than a hundred feet away from where they sat concealed behind a clump of elders, and limp slowly toward a knoll on which a flock of sheep were feeding. It was evidently the much-hunted cunning bear that had ventured once more on a foraging ex-

pedition. He was a short rifle-shot away, and Haynes fired. The bear fell, but was on his feet in a moment turned ami made back toward the spot where lie had entered the field at a speed which was remarkable if he had only the three legs he was reputed to have. Wing and Strang sprang over the fence, and made haste to head Bruin off. Ilaj'nes fol- lowed the bear, which scaled the fence only to meet the other two men on the other side. They both fired, and the bear fell to the ground again. Once more he regained his feet, and, finding himself brought to bay, raised on his haunches and rusheil at once upon Wing and Strang. A ball from Haynes’ rifle stopped the huge brute again, how- ever, and he fell on the ground, unable to rise. Another ball, which was sent

through his heart, ended his career.

The noise of the rifles gave the signal to other watchers and to the entire set- tlement, and every man, woman and child had gathered around the prostrate bear almost before he was dead. The rejoicing was great. The bear had but three paws, the right fore-paw being gone. The stump had apparently been healed a long time. The general be- lief is the bear was the one which es-

caped from Ehrout’s trap in 1879, and which, after wandering about the coun-

try. had returned to his old haunts. The carcass weighed over four hundred pounds.—La Porte Cor. N. T. Times.

How to Cure Gossip. A New York pastor has this advice to

give on the subject. It is certainly an

original plan: Adopt this rule: Lot all who come to

you with stories about mutual acquaint- ances know that you intend, as soon as

your duties allow, to wait upon the par- ties spoken of disparagingly and repeat just what was said, and who said it Still better, takeout your memorandum- book, and ask the party to allow you to

copy the words, so that you can make no mistake.

You will have to do this probably not more than three times. It will fly among your acquaintances on the wings of the gossips, and persons who come

to come to talk against other persons in your presence will begin to feel as if they' were testifying under oath.

But you ask: Will it not be mean to go off and detail conversations?” Not at all, when your interlocutor under- stands that he must not t:uk against an

absent person in your presence, without expecting you to convey the words to the absent parson and the name of the speaker. Moreover, what right has any man or woman to approach you and bind you to secrecy, and then poison vour mind against another? If there be any difference in your obligations, are you not bound more to the man who is absent than the man who is present? If you can thus help to kill gossip, it will not matter if you lose a friend or

two; such friends as these, who talk against others to you, are the very' per- sons to talk against you to them.

Try our rule. We know it to be good. We use it. It is known in the church

any one

of an

it our

duty to go to that absent mem- ber immediately, and report the con- versation and the names, or still better, to make the party disparaging face the party disparaged. We have almost none of this to do. Amid the many annoyances which necessarily come to the pastor of a large church, and still larger congregation, we think that we are as free from the annoyance of go-si ■■ as it is possible for a man to be who lives among his fellow-men.

Try our rule; try it faithfully, with meekness and chanty, and if it does not work well, let us know.—N. Y. Exam- iner.

PERSONAL AMI LITERARY.

—When Henry Ward Beecher was at Grand Forks, I)ak., he was invited to umpire a base-ball match.

—Miss Mollie Garfield and Miss Fanny Hayes, daughters of two ex-

Presidents, attend the same school in Cleveland.

—A young tooth, coming out as

natural as if in childhood, is nursed by Mrs. Isaliella Weeden, of Colusa, Col., who is the mother of two boys over

seventy-eight years old. — Chicago Times.

—There are two ladies in the neigh- borhood of Newbern, Ala., who were

livine in that section before Alabama was a State. That was before 1819. The act organizing the territory dates two years previously.

—“ For fifty-four years I was an in- veterate cigar-smoker,” says Thurlow Weed in his autobiography, “though never using tobacco in any other form. During that period I learn, by a some-

what careful computation, that I must have smoked or given to friends at least eighty thousand cigars.”

—Tom Tnumb’s full name was

Charles Sherwood Stratton, not Iley- wood, as generally announced. In the Mounta n Grove Cemetery in Bridge- port, Conn., years ago he bought a tot and erected a tall marble shaft, sur-

mounted by a life-size statue of him- self. Near this monument he was

buried.—N. Y. Pont.

—Mrs. Eliza Gracie Halsey, widow of Rev. Charles Halsey, and daughter of the late Charles King, LL. D., Presi- dent of Columbia College, died at El:za- beth, N. J., recently, in her seventy- third year. Mrs. Halsey, at the age of fourteen year-:, welcomed Lafayette to New York, at Castle Garden, when he visited this country in 1824.—N. Y. Times.

—Colonel William E. Curtis, manag- ing editor of the Inter Ocean is, it

may not be generally known, but it is nevertheless the fact, the author and composer of the beautiful ballads which sporadically appear supplementary to our esteemed contemporary. One of these ballads: “Wait till the Clouds Roll By, Jennie,” is now before us.

\Ye are not acquainted with Jennie, b#t no confidence is violated in the statement that the ballad is one of ex-

traordinary merit.—Chicago Sews. —Miss Murphy, of ban Francisco,

who was married the other day to Baronet Wolseley, could not nave

married him for Ids title. Her hus- band, who is old enough to be her father, is only a Baronet, while her papa, who was plain Dan Murphy when he left Cork for San Francisco several years ago, is now a Marquis— of the Holy Roman Empire—and a

Knight of St. Gregory. The Pope made him both live or six vears ago. The Pope also sent his blessing to the young couple. Old Murphy, when he got spliced to Lady Wolseley’s mamma

did not receive any papal blessing. They got on very well, however. Their bank account runs into the millions.— Chicago Tribune.

HUMOROUS.

—“Here, hoys!” exclaimed a kind old grandma, “I wouldn't slide down those banisters. I wouldn’t do it!” “You wouldn’t do it. grandma? Why, you couldn’t!” exclaimed little Tommy. —Eli Perkins.

—In one chapter.—Boy—melon shady spot— secluded nook—yum! yum! all gone- boy sighs colic comes—boy howls—mother scares—father jaws— doctor comes—colic goes—boy well- wants more—(notice of funeral hereaft- er.)—Detroit Free Press.

—A private message to the Boston Post says that the Society for the Pre- ventiou of Cruelty to Animals threat- ens to arrest Jay Gould, Cyrus W. Field, Rus.^ell Sage, and a number of other New York farmers. They haven’t watered their stock for over a month.

—The speaker who alluded to his candidate as “the war-horse that snuffed the battle from afar,” climbed up to the composition room with a club after reading it in the paper as “the ward boss that snatched the bottle from a bar.”—Boston Commercial Bul- letin.

—Mrs. Ramsbotham likes the enter- tainment at the Fisheries. She says the Foreign Thingummyjigian Band plays beautifully. "I like to see them,” says Mrs. R., in full unicorn, when they’re dressed in Prussian Blue and wear the regular German l’ickletub helmet.”— Punch.

—It is a common saying that a wom-

an can't keep a secret as well as a man.

All bosh. Why, a woman will keep a

secret that a man would forget in two hours, long enough to spread it over two counties. She never loses her grip on it till she gets a better one.—Burlington Free Press.

—Foot’s wife remarked to him, as

they started out the other night to take supper with the Browus, that she ex-

pected Mrs. B. would have a stunning coiffure. “Well, I’m sure I hope so,

grumbled Poots, “I haven’t had any- thing good to eat siuce the last time we

were at mother's.”—Lowell Courier.

—“Mamma,” cried a little four-year- old girl, after coming from a walk with her next oldest sister, “Mamie shoved against me !

right before some

me, too. “Well, it doesn’t hurt you now. does it? Then why do you cry?” "’Cause I didn’t cry any when she pushed me down.”—Kentucky Journal.

—The high-school girl asked her brother Jim to go with ner to the festi- val Wednesday night. For a wonder he was willing, and replied: “I’m your oyster.” “Dear! dear! shall I never

be able to impress upon your mind the utter wickedness of slang?’* said she; “you should say: ‘I am your acephal- ous mollusk.’ — Oil City Derrick.

—An able-bodied insect: The guard of an English railway carriage recently refused to allow a naturalist to carry a

live hedgehog with him. The traveler, indignant, pulled a turtle from his wal- let, and said: “Take this, too;” but the guard replied, good-naturedly: “Ho no, sir. It’s dogs you can’t carry, and doga is dogs, cats is' doga, and ’edge’oga la dogs, but turtles is Insects,”

Temperance. X bread and alcohol. So staple and universal an article of

diet is bread, so important and abun- dant an article of commerce is grain, and so naturally is one associated with the other, that we scarcely e'er give the subject of cereals as a source of liquor the consideration it deserves. To the average individual corn and grain mean food, and chiefly bread; and to assert to such a one that grain is as

great a curse as it is a blessing is almost invariably to call forth both surprise and indignation.

And yet it is true. Com, typical of all grain, according to its subsequent treatment, according to the process to which it is subjected, comes forth, from mill or still, a blessing or a curse —bread or liquor. Doth children of a comm >n

mother, the Cain and Abel of post- cereal life, they differ as essentially in every characteristic as do two human beings; the one bringing health, strength and happiness to even the humblest homes, the staple food of all nations, the basis of all nourishment; the other, save in very rare instances ami under peculiar circumstances, an

unmitigated curse, bearing disease, dis- honor and even death into thousands of homes, blasting fair young lives, blunt- ing every good attribute of mind and soul, prostituting honor, honesty and integrity, deadening conscience, incit- ing to crime, leading to rags, squalor and starvation, manning the gallows, peopling the poor-house, crowding the courts and tilling the prisons.

To it may be justly ascribed nine- tenths of all crime, suicide, poverty and prostitution; from its deadly seed spring idiocy and insanity. Through its agency family ties are sundered, promising lives engulfed in debt and dishonor, friends and secrets ruthlessly betrayed, hopes and ambitions blasted, and God's masterpiece of creation— man himself—made a bloated wreck.

In no sense a food, alcohol will neith- er impart nourishment nor susta'n life; but, on the contrary, its use invites, causes and complicates di-ease, both organic and functional, poisons the blood and tissues, weakens the muscles, disorders the nervous System, and de- stroves the mind and faculties.

How marked the contrast between the two! the one in every sense life-eiv- ing, happiness-bestowing, body-nour- ishing: the other essentially a destroyer of all these, whose footsteps are invari- ably accompanied by misery, despair and dishonor. Yet the difference is but a step—simply one of degree. The floured grain, moistened and kneaded, leavened with a touch of yeast, com-

mences to ferment. The starch of the flour, through the agency of the yeast, breaks down into alcohol and carbonic a; id gas, the latter penetrating every pari, of the loaf, and making it light and spongy. Then comes the heat of the oven just at the proper moment, killing the yeast germs, putting a sud- den stop to all fermentation, and giving us the brown and fragrant loaves of bread.

Huge tanks and vats in which thou- sands of bushels of grain are soaking. The same leavening of the mass, the same fermentation and breaking down of the starch into carbonic acid and al- cohol, but so treated and favored that the latter is yielde l in the largest possi- ble amount. No restraining hand of heat to limit the process at the point where food ends and liquor begins, hut every endeavor made to obtain the lat- ter. Then the gaping maw of the still, and the serpentine coil pouring forth its steady stream of liquor, man's worst enemy. Liquor is simply one step be- yond bread in the same chemical pro- cess, yet how widely, terribly different in their effects upon man! " 1 was made to be eaten, amt not to be drank;

To be husked in a barn, not soaked in a tank. I come as a blessing when put in a milt; As a blight and a curse when run through a

still. Make rue up into loaves, and your children

are fed: Iiut into a drink. I will starve then instead. In bread I’m a servant the eater shall rule; In drink I’m a master, the drinker a fool. Then remember my warning—my strength

1 11 employ. If eaten to strengthen, if drank to destroy.” The subject under discussion is a very

wide one. Not only must we consider the evil that liquor does, but the waste of all the million bushels of good grain that would otherwise be made into food that it takes to feed the stilis and pro- duce the alcohol, or the thousands of acres of fertile land devoted to its culti- vation that might be far better used in raising other foods if the demand for alcohol (liquor) did not exist. To how many destitute men and women and cheerless homes would their products yield plenty and happiness!

Economically, we must consider the millions of wasted lives, the impover- ished, beggared and starving families. the resulting crime, ami the army ol

paupers, lunatics ami criminals, the heavy taxation that is required to sup- port the prisons, hospitals, lunatic asy- lums and alms houses, as well as the fact that the wages and the results of the industry of all these inebriates are

lost to us, and that, were they st^jyly, sober? industrious men, would be add- ing to general trade and pr isperity. The sum thus lost and thusex[>ended in restraining and providing for these in- dividuals is enormous, aggregating bill- ions yearly.

Who that has looked out over the acres of ripening grain, the stacks of

golden corn, the sheeted white of the barley fields; who that has watched the sturdy harvesters, (he lusty, healthy rea|K-rs shearing Mother Earth of her bounteous crops; who that has joined in the festivities of a "husking bee”— can for a moment hesitate as to which is the proper destination of the grain, the mill or the still? How like sacrilege it seems to throw such rich and golden products, capable of yielding so much

strength and health and nourishment, into the yawning mouth of the still, to come forth a poison and a destroyer!

From the quaint old mill, with its whirring stones, its mossy wheel am! its swiftly flowing stream, if passes to the ends of the earth, carrying health, strength, growth and nourishment to old and young, rich and poor—to all a

blessing,' to none a curse. The hungry laborer, the poor beggar, the chubby- faced golden-haiied toddler with his huge slice and buttered-fingers, the wealthy banker and the houseless tramp, all welcome and appreciate it.

The cooling rain, the bright cheerful sunshine. the fertile fields, the grateful dew, the busy hum of insect life, the

fragrance of the wild flower, the carol of the robin, the melody of the harvest- er, the creak and plash of the old mill- wheel—aye, even the liaapy smile on the miller’s face—each yields its mite to nature's ever-recurring gift, that great blessing, crowned in the loaf, that sea-

sen by season tells the tale of “Peace on earth, good-will to man.’’

Not so the product of the still; a deep, swift and treacherous stream, dauk w.th the chill of wasted lives, tainted and galled by the hopes and ambitions it has wrecked an«i the ties it has sun-

dered, poisoned by the crime and lust of its victims, foul with the ooze of treacherous deeds, and clogged with

clinging weeds of temptation, ever

ready to engulf and swamp the thought- less or unwary; flowing swiftly amt re-

sistently onward to hut one end, de- struction: engulfing' hope, happiness and strength: m iking parents childless and children orpiiaus; manuing the gallows and filling the prisons; sapping strength, individual and national, and sweeping thousands of good resolutions before its resistless current; marshy and treacherous its banks, where idiocy, lunacy and crime flourish like rank weeds.

How chameleon-like in its aspects! At first how joyous and tempting in its many allurements to both youth and age; how bright and fascinating in its

promise of forbidden pleasure and joys anticipated: how apparently small and insignificant as it w.nds its way in and out of the events of daily life; how dice ful in its frothing, foaming con-

viviality: how green the fields, luxuri- ant the shade, and tropically magnifi- cent the flowers that deck its banks; how easy the sailing, how unheeded the rinples of warning against the prow, or

the wrecks of other lives as they float

hopelessly by! With what reckless hilarity and aban-

don the pleasure parties gliife along its smooth bosom, unmindful of how swift- ly the shores are receding, and how near the gloom and despair that are

slowly settling over them! Then, the first froth of joy gone, and with the ter- rible consequences of their action star-

ing them full in the fae.e. they awake to a realization of their dreadful fate, and with trembling hands endeavor to steer for land. Too late: already the ill- omened nightmare birds of debt, dis- honor and disgrace perch upon and rend the fra l bark, whose thin boards alone separate them from the now foam- ing waters neneam.

Then is the terrible force and swift- ness of the current realized; then it is that hopes and promises and good reso-

lutions so often fail to turn the doomed craft from its course: then, too late, thai the foulness and pollution of the stream are seen: then that the staring and ghastly faces of dead-anJ-gone hope, happiness and ambition, dropping astern, are lost to sight forever. The banks no longer green and luxuriant, but browu and scorched; the air hot and sulphurous: thirst intense, craving, dominant: delirium imminent; the joys no longer joys, the pleasures now be- come burdens.

No longer the little rippling stream that the word “no” might at any mo-

ment turn from its course, but the angry, seething, troubled sea of drunkenness, the black clouds of despair, and the sullen roar of the mighty breakers of crime, disease or dishonor, against which so many once promising lives have been dashed and hopelessly wrecked, and whose ghastly skeletons, strewing the beach or stranded high upon the shore, tell sad tales of misery, despair, neglect and destitution.

Oh, for a breath of the cool fields where the golden grain is ripening! Oh. for a draught from the errata’ stream that moves the miller's wheel!— II. II. Kane, M. D., in Harper's Weekly.

-*♦ ♦ ^

True Liberty. “The Liberty Question,” commonly

so-called, as au argument against the legal suppression of the liquor traffic, affords an example of a perverted truth. We claim liberty of thought and speech and action. Our claim is a sound one, but we must remember that liberty can

only be secured by the suppression of tyranny. Liberty for that which is good can only be attained by restrict- ing the liberty of that which is bad. Honest men can freely walk the street in safety, because law prevents the dis- honest man's interference with another’s purse, life or character. Here law pro- tects liberty, by restricting liberty. You do not plead for freedom for the poison- ous snakes in the grass on which your children play. You want no liberty for wild beasts or man uogs aooui your home: but vou protect your children’s liberty by destroying what would inter- fere with its exercise. If the strong drink traffic hinders and counteracts the purifying and ennobling work of church and school anil home, then you can have liberty for church and school and home only by destroying what inil-

| itates against their success, hampers every step they take, and undoes what

| they have already accomplished. Good l and evil are eternally antagonistic, one

! can exist only at the other’s expense, and “Freedom for the right means sup- pression of the wrong;” liberty for vir-

j tue means prison bars for cnme; and I when the grandest ideal of freedom pre- j vails supreme, every man will have the right to do what he chooses, only as far us he chooses to do what is right.— Canada Citizen.

The Same Everywhere.—Strong drink is the same blighting curse in every clime. The Friend, published at Honolulu, says: “Some months ago, when the Prohibition question was un-

der discussion the seamen's chaplain preached a sermon founded upon the sixth command of the Decalogue, ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ He little imagined that in so few months so many sad and tragic illustrations of the ruinous con-

sequences of intoxicating liquors would be placed upon record in the courts of this Kingdom. The reports of trials from Hilo, Wailuku, Lahaina. and oth- er localities, are enough to deter men

from importing and selling rum in this

Kingdom. The idea that the Govern- ment should encourage, rather than

repress, the issue of rum licenses, is

among the saddest aspects of Govern- ment policy.