aT ty ag te

Piles

en

eee gee me

« ?

an

\

REIT EVOT RE CTW Ee POETRY.

THE IMPATIENT HEN,

is the tale of a queer oid hen, Thai set oneggs « tiv ter

She made her nest with pr ind care And whether fou weather fair, You a Wavs found her at her post

‘or patience Ww Ales ! how off it 1s our lot To brag of what we | This wil! appiv And boys and gris

Days passed and The suu bexan t varuirer gro The gr Vheir iw WW tie This queer old ben began t ng To juin once more : noisy throng Ori <

That strutied by t

od

is i Suds

S$ anu iva S bvge ic mio #

SW Land } $ant was whe gale

He gossip —lia -

! barn door

Here I am tied she sighed

«QO, dear! O, dear A weary jot is mins * No glem of pleas io I catch,

Why don't th sume chickens hatch! It worries me in heart and legs

To sit su Jong unon these eggs:

I'm sick of pining here at home:

O chicks, chicks cuicks, why don’t you

come ?

"se tu

Your little houses white and warm I've sheltered from ibe storm.

* There's Mother D ninique next door, Her darlings number twentysfour, And they've been out @ week or more; An now she wanders at her ease,

As proud ond happy as you please, i So stir your pinky little pegs.

My yellow bills come outand walk, Or else 1'}] doubt my eggs are eggs, And think they are but lumps of chalk.

Then something rash and sad befell ; This old hen pecke@ each brittle shell, And, not so wonderful to tell,

Her treatment, which was very rude, Killed on the spot ber tiny brood! And now, despised by fowls and men, She lives a broken-hearted hen

This is the moral of my lay—

To reap success in work or play, Why spoil what you ve begun, Through eagerness to have it done? Remember poor Dame Portlets fate! | Don't be impatient—-learn to wait.

wee

THE HONEST MAN WHO PAYS.

a DITTY FOR THE TIMES There is one among the many, Can you teil me where he stays! He’s an odd, old-iashioned party, Called the honest man who pays, Yes—the honest man who pays Every dollar he may owe, Keeping up the good old ways That so many scarcely know.

If he gives his word of promise *Tis a bond as good as gold, If ke hold a post of honor Not a trust is ever sold By the honest man who pays Every debt he may incur, Yielding each a just award, And no grudging or demur

And I'm told this rare old party Lives within his income, won

By the fairest, squarest dealing We see beneath the sun,

And the honest man who pays, Always holds it good and right,

For the rich ts help the needy, When the times are tough and tight. |

EEE

ASHANTEE.

REV. MR. KUHNE—HIS SUDDEN APPEARANCE, COMPANIONS AND COM MISSION—DESCRIP- TloN OF KING COFTEE—HIS PALACE, ARMY, AND SYSTEM OF RULF, AND HIS THREE HUNDRED WIVES.

{From the New York

Camp at Prashu, onthe Banks of the Prah, Assin Land, West Africa, Jan 15, 1874. | third ultima- It

for peace with the

Sir Garnet's

et «a

The answer to tum has been speaks of the King’s desir white men. The envoy who brought it and his suite of fitteen men were halted at Assa- man. Yesterday, also, the apparition of a pale face captive—a shadow of a man suffers ing from pulmonary consumption, one who had lingered in compulsory detention at the capital of Ashantee since the [2th of June, 1869—startled the camp. The sick captive is the Rev. Mr. Kuhne, of the Basle mission, | @ zealous missionary, a native of Neuchatel, who, after five years’ residence at Coomasie, was suddenly permitted to leave Ashantee end proceed tothe camp of Sir Garnet Wol- | sely.

The poor man isin such a wretched state of bad health that I could not find itin my heart to subject him toa prolonged interview, but in the following remarks vou will find interwoven such information of interest as I have been able to glean :—

The King of Ashantee i or 36 years old, strongly pitted with traces of smal! pox. possessing some natural ability, but which has been warpet by the assidu- ous and constant flattery of his parasitical and trembling subjects. The adulatory cries of the town crier of the capita! are more than sufficient to transform any man, white or black, into a vain, incarnate despot. They are generally in the strain of “ O King, thou

received nasie

a@ young man, 35

art the king above all kings. Thou art great! | treated them at first wilh coniumely, but | who had got inio bed, espied the foot of one

Thou art mighty! Thou art strong! Thou hast done enough! The princes of the earth bow down to thee, and humble themselves in

the dust before thy stool! Who is like unto | was amusing the way in which some of the | of bed, and going to where the stranger's King Kof- people endeavored to exempt themselves | boots were, he took off a huge, sharp Mexi- |

the King of all the Ashantees ?”’ fee, though arrogant, and vain and cruel be- yond measure, has the eye ofa king, which means that it is the eye of of possessing un- |

impit ower over life and death. So little , is wet oe | ne : aan cates , ne | limited p | | wash the King's robes! I wash the King’s | low when the stranger drew in his foot, he | have ever appeared without misprints. Eph: |

does he value human life that he frequently says, * By the slaughter of a hundred shall I

be able to produce a thousand.” The King | is placed on the stool by the united voice of | the chiefs, but immediately he becomes seats

ed, in him becomes vested the supreme pow-

er over Jife and death. If the council of gage in war, he dare not absolutely refuse | to make war, l+st some ask him, with a sneer, | if he is afraid, when, if he answers in the af- frmative, the monarch’s prestige departs from him. When the chiefs propose that he | shall make peace, after engaging in a war | which turns out to be ruinous, he may then

'

“proclaim that peace shall be declared, with- |

out incutrang disrespect. A great power in Ashantee is th ‘a mother, who often, | with her advice, has ce into war or hastened peace. tec

The King’s palace is a large hut weet the | native style of architecture, and adjoining~' is another residence, two-storied stone house, constructed for him by Dupins, a traveiler | who visited Ashantee about 1820. The miss | sionaries have lately constructed another bouse for him 44 feet long. 2 two stories high, of brick, which they them. |

selves manufactured for the King

~~ j

feet wide, and |

scatterred about the suburban crooms, or | villages. It is death for a man to look atthe female possessions of the monarch. When | any of the harem ventures out the criers has- ten shead to clear the way and warn the citizens of the advance of the fatal procession, | with cries of ‘“ Ecow! ecow! eh! eh! eh!” the first two words being drown out like our | «*balloo,” while the threes last are delivered to quick succession and in higher tones. As they approach the passengers turn théir | backs to the road and cover their faces with |

their hands, so they may not be thought to!

~ Take any advantage of the confidence of the |

\uman treasures i

King in thus exposing his to the lizht of day. Bowdich’s graphic descriptions of the stately processions an the wealth of bar- baric gold dispensed at Coomasie on grand eccasions turns oul to correct. The wealth principally consists of golden heir- looms, ornaments of massy gold, which gen- | eration afier generation treasured in secret places. If a hostile army approached the | @apital this geld would be Lidden, and the |

be

| attack, created astonishment, alarm, and unmiii- |

just returned from the war, said,

; we

j death of all slaves would be alynost

lest they might betray the Ic

the treasure was concealed,

The permanent pepulation of Coomesie is

estimated at 10,000 souls-—-men, women and

iidren At the beginning of the war the army of \sha numtl 48.000 This force wa » the nbinath + oF nat s Ashantee and thet butary coun « { } i

Amonquat sh num

number .f 20,000 hav- With this sad- r O7C of

us Ui ~~! licers or chiefs, who had fallen in battle or

2 fi 1} ro isl ot» its

ims to disease '

ed army were the remai

died of disease, enclosed in so many Soxes. | This army was received in the great market of Coomasie by the King, and was thanked

and rewarded with presents of gold, 100

sheep and 40 loads of salt, but there was no

| ovation paid to it. The reception was sin

gularly silent, utter/y unlike the indescribs | able triumphal fanfaronade formerly made on | such occasions ‘hen the people dispersed to tLeir crooms, their plantations and houses.

Fifty-five slaves were slaughtered to the |

manes of the departed chiefs on the custom day, the Ist of January cf this year.

Amonquatiah and the chiefs who have

been engaged in battle have sought to dis- |

pei depression from the mind of the King by boasting of his performances in the war, and declaring to him that there are enough men still left to defend the capital from any It appears that the British letter

gated conlempt in the mind of the King The first feeling was caused by the stern

| purpose which his words implied; alarm, by | thee from thou kmowest not what again ’ the amount of compensation to be exacted for the injury done to the Assins and Fans ees, and unmitigated contempt at the long | ‘explanation at which the general had seen |

certain, | ilities where |

ee a eT

THE ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE.

The blessings, Oman! of thy externa! part are health, vigour, end proportion : the greal- | ist of these is health, "What hvaith is to the

| body, even that is honesty to tue soul.

That thou hasta soul, isofall kowledge the |

most certam, of all truths the most piain Be meek, ba grate! al for it; but

unto thee!

rot to know it perfectly, form s inscrutable Thought, understanding, ree on, W ill-—Say t that these are tny seul! chev are its

‘ ns, bul they are nol its €.sence Raise not thy soul too high lest thou he despised: be 1ot thou like ur to those who fall by chiinhing. mt ither debas ible he seuse t . be thou not hike lo the here and

brutes wule, in whom there fs no vud: pstandiug Search thy soul by it’s facu. ies; know 11 | py its Virtues: they are more in number than the b irs of thy bead; Ue stars of the heav-

| eus are uot to be counted with thei,

Think not, with Arabia, that one soul is divided among all men; neither believe thou, with the sons of Egypt, that every man hath many: know that as thy heart, so aiso is thy soul one.

also soften the wax? As itis one sun that worketh both, even so it is ome soul that willeth contraries.

As the moon retaineth her nature, though darkness spread itself before her face likea curtain ; so the soul remaineth perfect even in the bosom of the fool.

She is immortal; she is unchangeable; | she is alike in all; health calieth her forth to | shew her loveliness ; and application annoint- | | eth her with the oil of wisdom. | Although she shall live after thee, think | not she was born before thee: she was cre- ated with thy fiesh, and formed with thy brain.

Justice could not give ber to thee exalted | by virtues, neither could mercy deliver her | to thee degraded by vices: these must be | thine, and thou must answer them.

Suppose not that death can shield thee from | | examination; think not corruption can hide | ‘the from enquiry: He who formed thee out | of thou knowest not what, can he not raise |

Perceiveth not the cock the hour of mid. | night? exalteth he not his voice, to tell thee when it is morning ? Knoweth not the dog | the footsteps of his master ? and flieth not the | wounded goat to the herb that healeth him? |

tit to enter into concerning the cause which | Yet when thege die, their spirit returneth to |

‘led to the death of one of his envoy's suite. |

It is knewn now why the unhappy Ashan- | tee Ambassador committed suicide. It seems that it was proposed tc send a white man |

the effect that if any white man wegt to Coomassie the king would kill him; where- upon the convoy, who was his brother, cens sured him for his unjust suspicion, and pro- mised to reporthim to his majesty. Fully

, satisfied of the extent of the king’s anger on ; hearing the calumny

he pul an end to his

own life When the English General's letter bad been read, the chiefs who composed the |

| council began to extol themselves, and the | tributary King of Adansi sprung to his feet

and shouted, ‘ Behold, I am the King of tho Adansis, Who can cross my eountry with- out my permission ?°

Attilowali got up» and said,‘ Lo! | strong, my warriors are

am brave and none can overcoine me. But Amonquatiah, whe had ‘He

n no war cannot show a scar.’

who has see Presently cooler councils and more prudent | advice prevailed; hence the letter which Sir Garnet Wolsley received the day before lay ts peace. The King’s

first intention after his general’s return to | Coomassie was to permit his warriors a | k’srest and occupy the Adansi hills, and when the white people should attack them with vigor. If he were success» in driving the English back he slaughter every prisoner, white or black, he had taken in this war; if he were defeated he intended to await at Coomassie the arrival of to plead

yester eating of

appear, to |

ful would

his foe, reserving his prisoner for peace for him.

The reputation of the Gatling is now spread throughout Ashantee. ‘ It is a ter~} rible gun, which shoots all day. Nothing | could stand before it; the water of the Prah ran back affrighted." The effect of this, com- bined with many other things, has been to | induce the king and bis council to deliberate and reflect on the possibility of peace,

Of himself, Mr. Kuhne said he had been | captured on the 12th of June, 1869, by the General Adde Buffo, that a valuation of £6,-} 000 sterling was placed by his captor on Mr. Kuhne, Mr. Ramseyer and wife and Mr. | Bonat, a French trader, which was finally | reduced to 21,000. He and his brothers were treated as captives who might probably be of value eventually or not. They were granted a sufficient amount for subsistence, What money was des- patched to them was retained by the Ring, who doled out to them the sum of $4.50 per period of forty days for the subsistence of white man and his servants. They have preachea a few times on the streets to the Ashantees of the capital, but the King never gave permission to his subjects to be some eonverts. The populace of Ashantee

but nothing more.

each

when the King gave them _ permiesion to punish insolence with the whip more consideration was shown to them,

some

It

from being subject to the privilege granted to the captives by crying out, *‘ Know ye what ye do? I am the King’s shirtwasher !

feet!’ While another would venture to cry

ont, ‘ My sister is one of the King’s wives!’ |

The Fantee prisoners were exceedingly insclent to the white captives. They were pleased to utterly disbelieve that the English General would ever approach Coomassie, and

oe tee ale | omitted no pains to imbibe the Ashantees | ing a bad scratch. ebiefs and captains propose that Ne shall en- 1) that idea. Of the Fantees Mr. Kuhne |

and his missionary brethren entertain the |

very lowest opinion.

On the {8th of October Mr. Kuhne wrote | to the King requesting leave to return, as |

he was suffering from a disease which, unless

he was able to obtain good nourishing food, must soon kill him. second request was granted, and he left} Coomassie at once by torchlight, and arrived | in Kassi, a place situate about three miles | from the capital, During Saturday he tra-

| yelled for eight hours, and reached Kankassi.

On Sunday he made a short march to Quiza,

| on the other side of the Adansi hills. |

(in Monday he travelled to Assaman, a | village oceupied hy the British Advance, and by !0 a.m., on puesday, he reached this | camp, a subject of compascion to all.

|

a -

An Old Landmark.—A sailor who hesa@

scar which is the result of a dispute on shore >

The King has about 300 wives, though | many years ago, refers to iLas an old land- } peopla who wear spurs, but I never before they do not ai! live in the palace, but are, 4! 'sawa man Weg Could pull off his boot and

Qu a Denver bridge is this notice, ‘ No} vehicle drawn by more than one animal is | allowed to cross this bridge in opposite «is rections at the same time.’

* There's one ship I always steor clear of,’ said an old bachelor sea captain, ‘ and that’s courtship; ‘cause on that ship there’s als ways two mates and no captain.’

A high school girl, just graduated, said in her essay, ‘ Let us avoid frivolities of life, and pursue the noblest endsonly.’ The next day she was moved to tears in an agonizing | attempt to decide the proper shade of blue | for her complexion.

Swedish custom.— A pretty custom is} practiced in Sweden, of hanging up in front of every house a smail sheaf of wheat for the | winter provision of the birds, who, without | this supply, would perish with hunger. Our useful little sparrow would gratetully remember those who would be equaliy mindful of bis wants.

The late Sir Henry Holland, the physician,

oes once engaged in hot srgument with - ue seasons. Instantly the chubby Bot us Smith, an ex-advocote general, touch- | M@¥d of a five year old was raised, and | ing the merits of their respective professions. |

« You will admit,’ said Sir Henry, ‘that your | vinegar and mustard.

profession does not make angels of men?’ ‘No,’ returned Bobus, ‘ there you have the best of it. Yours certainly gives them the bust ehance.

| ship thou owest

Last Friday night Ms |

| the dust: thine alone surviveth | | Enty not to these their senses, because |

‘they are quicker than thine own ; learn that | | the advaniage lieti: not in possessing good | things, but in the knowiedge how to use them | to Coomassie with Mr. Garnet's terms to the | , King, and this man ventured a remark to

Hadst, thou the ear of the stag; or where | thine eye as strong and as piercing as that | of the eagle; didst the hound in smell; or} could the ape resign to thee his taste: or the | tortoise her feeilnmg: vet, without reason, what would they avail thee? Perish not all | these like their kindred ?

Hath any one of these the gift of speech ? | Can any one of them say unto thee. therefore | did I so?

The lips of the wife areas the doors of a cabinet, which no sooner are opened, than treasures are poured out before thee.

Like unto trees of gold arranged in beds of silver, are wise sentances uttered in due | season

Canst thou think too greatly of thy soul? er can too much be said in it's pratse? Tt is the image of him whp gave it.

Remember thou it’s dignity forever; forget not how great a talent is committed to thy charge.

Whatsoever may do good,may it not also do | harm? Beware that thou direct it's course to virtue,

Think not that thou can’st lose her in the | crowd; suppose not that thou canst bury her in thy closet: action is her delight, and she will not be with-held from it

Her motion is perpetual ; her attempts are

| universal; beragilityis not to be suppressed ;

—It is at the uttermost part of the earth? she will have it. It is beyond the region ef tho | stars? yet will her eye discover it.

Enquiry is her delight: like unto one who

i} traverseth the burning sands in search of | water, 30 is the soul that thirsteth after know-

ledge

Guard her, for she is rash; restrain her for she is irregular; correct her, for she is out- rageous: more unstable is she than water ; | more flexible than wax; more yielding than air: is their aughtthen that can bind her?

As a sword in the hand of a madman; |} even so is the soul to him who wanteth di- rection,

The end of her searchis truth; the means to discover it are reason and experience ; but | are not these weak, uncertain, and fallacious?

| How then shall she attain unto it?

Opinion is not proof of truth; for the gener- ality of men are ignorant.

The perception of thyself; the knowledge | of Him who created ; the sense of the wor- unto [lim; are not these plain beforethy face? Behold! whatis there | more than man needeth to know ?

-_———-——-———_- + 20eem-v-

SLEPT WITH HIS SPURS

ON. —

« Yes;” said the old man with a smile, “1 remember one time in particular while out prospecting with a friend, about twenty years ago. We were travelling on horseback, and | came across a tavern one night about ten | o'clock. Bring very tired and hungry, as | goon as we gotsome supper and something |

| warm to keep the cold out, we asked to be

shown to our room.

i

{ .

| On looking around we found the room had |

two beds im it, one of which was already oc- | cupied by two strangers, who were both snor- | | ing lustily. The fact of there being twobeds

in the room, did not surprise us, as the back- | | wood taverns there were frequently three | beds in aroom. We undressed, and just as | } { was going to blow out the light, my friend,

of the strangers sticking throu, a the bed- clothes, at the foot of the bed. With a suppressed chuckle he motioned | me to hold on a moment; he got quietly out |

ean spur, and carefully adjusted it to the bare heel of the unconcious stranger. | With another audible chuckle as he}

| thought of the consequences that would fol-

| got back into bed, and I blew out the light ; and follewed him. He soon managed to get | a Jong straw from the bed,and reaching over tickled the stranger’s foot. He instantly |

drew his foot under the bedcloths, and then drew his legs up until his knees almost touch. | }ed his chin. In doing this he drew the spur | | the whole length of his bedfellow’s leg, mak- |

The victim uttered a yell and sprang out | of Led with a muttered exclamation that 1 | did not make out, and then he commenced | a wild dance around the room, with his ne- | ther garment under his arm and making fran- tic efforts either to dislocate his neck, or see how badly he was hurt, all the while making | exclamations that would have made a bag- | gage man with a Saratoga trunk or his shoul- der turn green from envy.

The innocent cause of the trouble had been awakened at the first yell of the victim, and in straightening his legs out, scratched him- self most unmercifully. He did not yell, nor say bad words, but he jumped out of bed and | mavle for his friend with the purpose of tak- ; ing vengeance, | suppose; but he had not taken two steps beforo he jabbed the spur | into his leg again. |

The landiord then appeared with a light, | followed by half the boarders of the house, | and enquired what the matier was.

An examination brought to light the spur, which expiained the mater. The stranger looked sheepishly at the spur, then at his}

with a sickly smile said : * Weill, boys, I have lived all my life among

leave his spur on Teal! Th treat in the morning.” acs

A butcher recently found a shaw.>!"0 in a cow he was culling up into steaks. is supposed she swallowed a milkmaid

a

Rooted sorrow—An aching tooth.

An impecunious citizen said the only change allowed was that of the weather.

Hood calied the slamming of a door by a person in @ passion a wooden oath.

The great difference between Byron and Burns in early youth was that one was a Harrow boy and the other a ploughboy.

A schoolmaster asked one of his boys, on a sharp, wintry morning, what was Latin for cold. The boy hesitated a little. ‘ What!” said the teacher, «cannot you tell?" “ Yes, yes,” replied the boy, «I have it at my finger

‘

A lady teacher inquired of the members of a class of juveniles if any of them could name

promptly came the answer, ‘ Pepper, salt,

Honest industry is always rewarded. No | Young man need complain of being kept poor - be ae up his sleeves and goes cheertnlly | te work.

RE SOUL OP MAN, IT’S ORIGIN AND AFFECTIONS {

| at maturity. |

sun harden the clay? doth it not; ) ; caypoe node i | fashionable

i eye!

public aquarlum at Liverpool, and a coms

RANDOM READINGS,

‘Up in arms.’—A haby. Best size for a man—Exercisa. | Always‘ Hard Pressed.’"—Bricks.

Drink for Irishman .—Cell-zer water. For a wedding song—Love knot. | Acrobatic feat.—Footing up a column, A sure Cure for Felons.—Twisted hemp. stealing march’ worse than ‘ taking a }

Y i>

walk.’

Why is a blush likea little g'rl 7—Because it becomes a woman,

When is a literary work like smoke ?-— When it comes out in volumes,

Why is a water lily like a whale ?—Because it comes to the surface to blow.

W hy is a lov ely

young lady like a hinge?— Because she is something to adore.

Why is a young lady like a bill of ex-| change ?—Because she ought to be settled |

What is the difference between an oyster anda chicken ?—One is best fresh from the | shell, and the other isn't.

There is a movement in New York against funerals. It is thought that} with less expense there could be more of| them.

Debt is the severest taskmaster. A person in debt is a doomed man. He dares not ask } a favor or refuse to bow and smile at his| independent neighbor. If you are out of dept young man, keep clear of ils meshes. | Debt spreads the sky in sackcloth—digs a | pit before you, clouds the atmosphere—dark- | ens the sun, destroys the harmony of nature, | eonverts beauty and bloom to moulds and | conwebs, drives health from the cheek and | peace froin the heart.

‘ You're the leanest man l ever saw.’ said | an Alabama judge to a lank and starved. | looking culprit; *‘ what were you brought up | on?’ ‘Onacharge of vagrancy, I believe, | your Honor,’ was the meek reply.

The editor of a Maryland paper, in a pep- | pery article anent the arguments of a rival | editor, affirmed, and also offereth, to prove | that ‘ his soul—his nasty little soul—is not | large enough to fill the socket of a mosquito’s |

? i

In modern Greece no lady's visit is ad- | mitted by the lady of the house if the visit | ress doesnot bring her work with her, with» | out which the visited would be cbliged to

remain idle, which is neither more nor less | than a sin.

A prudent matchmaking mamma gave the following candid advice to her daughter: ‘Oh, marry the man you love, girl, if he is: as rich as Croesus !’

Two Conundrums —A young lady, whea riding from her father’s country seat to @ neighboring village met a young man on foot, who was carrying a jug. She at once reined in her horse, and asked him what he

| had in the jug

Looking up with a comical leer, he simply winked one eye and smacked his lips, to in-

| dicate that it contained something good

Tho yo@ng lady supposing he meant alco- |

} hol, immediately began to talk temperance, |

but her auditor requested the privilege of | first asking her one question

‘What is it;’ she asked

‘ It is this,’ he replied your sidle-saddle ? ' She could not teil,

It is bacauas it holds a galsou,’ said! he

owhy is MY jue ka

‘What trifling! exclaimed the iniignant young lady, and then continued

Young man, do you perceive —

Just one more question, interrupted her auditor, ‘and then I am done. Why ismy jug like the assembly room of a female | seminary at roliscall?’

‘Tamsure I don't know,’ petulantly res plied the young lady~

Well, its because it is full o’ lasses,’ said the incorrigible auditor.

The fair lecturer touched her spirited horse with her whip, and wes soon out hear- ing ofthe rude young man.

A genius is popularly supposed to be one

| who can do anything but makea living.

Maxims in Life—John McDonough, the millionaire of New Orleans, has engraved upon his tomb a series of maxims prescribed

las the rule of his guidance through life, to

which his success in business is mainly ats | tributed. They contain so much wisdom } that we copy them: Rules for guidance of my Jife, 1804- Remember always that labor is one of the | conditions of onr existence. Time is gold;

'

| throw not one minute away, but place each | | ene to account,

i Do unto all men as you would be done | by. i Neyer put off till to-morrow what you can | do to-day. Never bid another do what you can do | yourself, Never covet what is not your own. Never think any matter so trifling as not

| to deserve notice.

Never give out that which does not first

| come in.

Never spend but to produce.

Let the greatest order regulate the transs | actions of your life. i

Study, in your course of life, to do the | greatest amount of good. |

Deprive yourself of nothing necessary to | your comfort, but live in an honorable sim- | plicity.

Labor, then, to the last moment of existence

Pursue strictly the above rules, and the Divine blessing and riches will flow upon

your

|

' you to your heart’s content; but, first of all, |

remember that the chief and great duty of your life should be to tend, by all means in, your power, to the honor and glory of our, Divine Creator; without temperance there | is no health; without virtue, no order; with- out religion no happmess; end that the aim of our being should be to live wisely, soberly, righteously.

The man who cares for nobody, and. for whom nobody cares, has nothing to live for | that will pay for keeping of sou! and body together ;

“| saw what 1 can’t see,# as the blind wood-sawyer said.

Few books, and still fewer newspapers, |

emeral literature can scarcely be free from | the inevitable result of haste.

If you wish to live the life of a man, and not of a funges, be social, be brotherly, be charitable, be sympathetic, and labor earns estly for the good of your kind.

“Now, then,” said a physician cheerily to | a patient, “you have got along far enough to | indulge in a little animal food,and—" ‘No | you don't, doctor,” interrupted the patient: “T’ve suffered enough with your gruel and ether siop, and I'li starve sooner than begin | on hay and oats.”

The stery is told of a seven year old cynic | at a juvenile party. He kept aloof from the rest of the company, and the lady of the house called to him saying, ‘ Come and play | and dance, my dear. Choose one of tiose | pretty girls for your wile. ‘ Not likely!’ cried the young cynic. ‘* No wife for me! Do you think I want to bo worried outof my | life like poor papa?”

<= ro =

A project is on foot for the erection of a pany has been formed for this purpose ; a_ suitable site has been secured close to the | Philharmonic Hall, and operations will, it is said, be begun at once. It is estimated the bui ‘ding will cost £45.000.

The Duke of Edinburgh and his bride, the Grand Duchess Marie, landed at Grave. |

~ | ceratch, and finally examined his boots, and | send onthe 7th inst. The Channel fleet was ' massed in the bay to receive them and

salute the Royal pair as they steamed tas the wharf. ‘The landing place was begitifully | decorated, as also many bp®Jings both |

— and private. that were en route to the

lway station. The Reyal party proceeded to Windsor where great poaperalions have | been made in expectation ot their arrival > Tservt Trem.—Perhaps one of the most agy. "ating difficulties ever encounter | ed bya busy housewife is that attending | the lighting of fires on still, damp morn- ings. The stove at first won't draw; even vigorous “blowing” will not suffice; and then when it dose start, it is with a sudden ex- plosion or out rush of air which fills” the room with smoke and gas, ofttimes puff- | ing the unpleasent fume in the face of the | operator. The trouble is caused by the. difficulty encountered inovercoming the in- | ertia of the long column of air in the | pipe or chimney by the small column of air that can be fow ed up through the interstices | of wood and coal, at the bottom of which | the fire is kindled. All this may be remedi- ed by simply putting a few shavings or bits

of dry paper on the top of the wood or) coal, and first lighting that. It immedietly | bursts into a blaze, because the air has per-

fectly free access on all sides, the heated air forces its way in the chimney. the match Sefer etebeg ty gan ay

w y ry) burst into a brisk flame, >

'gof 26, 1-6 of 34,16 of 35, 4 of 38, 4

18, 87, 5-48 of 170, 11-48 of 171, 1-6 of 200,

Lanp ASSESMENT.

Treasurer's Orrice, P. E. Island. Charlottetown, January 24, 1874. | be pursuance of an Act of the General Assembly of this Island,ms le and pass- edin the twenty-fourth year o: the reign of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, i itituled ‘ An

Act relating to the Land Asses sment at pre- | sent imposed by law on the Twn and Roy- |

alty of Princetown,” and al:o of an Act made and passed in the Tw enty-seventh vear of the same reign, intitu ed ‘ An Act to consolidate and amend the several Laws imposing an Assessment on all Lands in this Colony, and for the encouragement of Education,’ that Ll have made prociamation, according to the terms of suid Acts, of all the undermentioned Town Lots, Water Lots Common Lots, Pasture Lots Islands, or parts of Islands, Townships or parts of Town- ships, in this Island, in arrear for the non-

uc

payment of the several sums due and owing |

thereon to Her Majesty, under and by vir- tue of the above-mentioned Acts, viz:

ACRES, Township No. 1, 9804 do. a. z, 2104 do. do. 6, 6024 do. do. 8, 361 do. do. 11, 20114 do. do. 13. 344 do. do. 14, S444 do. do. 17, 999 do. do. 19, 9503 do, do. 20, 7154 do. do. 21, 4394 do. do. 23, 25694 do. do. 24, 7143 do. do. 25, 674 do. do. 26, 2094 do. do. 27, 60 do. do. 28, 1163 do. do. 29, 1056 do. do. 30, 4426 do. do. 32, 1164 do. do. 33, 650 do. do. 34, 211 do do. 35, 598 do. do. 36, 29238 do, do, 37, 880 do. do. 38. 911 do. do. 39, 3278 do. do. 40, 33334 do. do. 41, 1860 do. do. 42, 1893 do. do. 48, 2675 do. do. 44, 9824 do. do. 46, 2864 do. do. 50 1708 do. do. 51, 6604 do. do. 52, 14824 do. do 58, 29954 do. do. 54, 1719 do. do. 55, 1945 do do. 56, 2795 do. do. 58, 881 do. do. 59, 958 do. do. 60, 90194 do. do. 62, 2915 do. do. 68, 1690 do. do, 66, 577 do. do. 67, 54774