5©f? THE R0RA1-' HfW-YMUtfft, JULY 20 
a seri 33 of letters this season which will 
awaken a lively interest among your army of 
readers by describing women, men, mines, 
lands, scenery, climate and crops from Mary- 
and to Louisiana. [A hearty welcome.—E d.] 
Northern Georgia. Waif. 
MAN AS AN AMATEUR COOK. 
There is one drawback to the delights of 
camping out (writes the New York Times.) 
There are dishes which must be washed, and 
man is so made as to be unable to wash dishes 
with any success. The unwashed dishes of 
breakfast, dinner, and supper hang over the 
camper-out—to use a metaphor of probable 
Irish origin—like a dark cloud, and seriously 
obscure the brightness of bis daily life. It is 
remarkable with what eagerness men will as¬ 
sume every camp duty except that of dish¬ 
washing. It is not that the task is felt de 
grading, nor solely because it is a diflieult 
one. There are dishes, such as coffee-cups 
and knives, which can be easily and quickly 
washed, and which any energetic man would 
be perfectly willing to wash. The real reason 
cf the unusual hatred of dish-washing among 
men is the utter impossibility of getting the 
grease out of the frying pan. It may be asked 
by superficial thinkers or by those who have 
no experimental knowledge on the subject, 
why is it there should be so much difficulty 
in removing a given quantity of grease from 
a given utensil ? The truth lies in th« self ex 
panslve power of grease—a peculiarity of that 
objectionable substance known only to scien- 
fie person* and campers out, and capable 
of driving the most able philosopher to des¬ 
pair and the u ?e of strong langu tge. A given 
quantity of grease could, of course, be re 
moved from any frying pan were it to re 
main a given quantity. When, however, that 
the more grease thqdish-washer removes the 
more there is still left to be removed, the hope- 
lea* nature of bis task becomes apparent. 
Professor Harkness, of the Smithsonian In¬ 
stitution, has proved by actual experiment 
that lard, when brought in contact with a 
frying pan, expands to four times its original 
bulk. He undertook, w’ben camping out in 
China, ia connection with the national trinsit 
of Venus picnic, to fry five small fish in an or¬ 
dinal y frying pan, He placed in the frying- 
pan half a pound of lard, fried the fish in it, 
and afterwards drew the fatal lot which com • 
pelled him to act as dish-washer. He labored 
for an hour and thirty minutes at that fry¬ 
ing pan. During this period he distributed 
lard all over Ids clothing and over a large por¬ 
tion of the province of Hoang Chin. Ha also 
filled two tin pint cups with lard taken from 
the frying-pan, and when he Anally ceased the 
effort to wash that exasperating utensil, and 
called for a pair of scales, it was evident to 
every observer that there was a great deal 
more lard in that neighborhood than there 
had been two hours earlier. The testimony 
of the scales showed that there was half a 
pound of lard on the Professor's clothing, an¬ 
other half-pound in the two tin cups, and an¬ 
other half-pound still in the frying-pan, 
while it was estimated that at least a like 
quantity was distributed over the surface of 
Hoang-Chin Province. Thus the original 
amount of lard had quadrupled itself, and 
rendered the effort to clean the frying-pan un¬ 
successful. Professor Harkness tried the ex¬ 
periment six consecutive times, and was 
thus enabled to ascertain that the lard, when 
placed in a frying-pin which is afterwards 
subjected to the washing process, expands un¬ 
til it is 4.07 times its original bulk. 
HOW HE WAS SOLD. 
He was not a particularly amiable young 
man, neither was he obliging or courteous, 
so that under the circumstances it was not to 
bo wondered at that fellow clerks regarded h'm 
from a loving point of view, and knowing his 
intense conceit and belief in bis own powers 
of fascination, they cruelly combined together 
in composing a letter, wherein the supposed 
writer, a young lady, confessed that his manly, 
handsome appearance and charming manners 
had completely won her heart, and trusting he 
would not consider her forward or bold she 
intimated that between certain hours on a 
certain afternoon she would take a stroll 
along a certain street in Austin, wearing 
such a dress, such a hat, and describing her 
personal appearance. A mischievous damsel, 
sister (or cousin) of one of the conspirators, 
was let into the secret, and her services en¬ 
listed to write the note in a pretty feminine 
hand; and when the postman handed Mr.- 
the dainty missive, nods, signs, and suppressed 
laughs were exchanged amongst the conspir¬ 
ing band. “ Questions of “ Who is your letter 
frem, Jack?” “ Invitation to another hop. old 
fellow?” “Lucky dog,” &c., &e., only elici¬ 
ted self-satisfied smiles from the fortunate re¬ 
cipient Anxious glances at the clock from 
time to time on the ladykiller’s part showed 
that he was longing to be off to the trysting 
spot, performance* of course provocative of 
more mirth amongst the onlookers. When at 
last the hour of release came, and exchanging 
his well-worn office coat for the elegant gar¬ 
ment in which conquests were made on the 
block, giving an extra brush to his becoming 
“ felt,” and racing off to the meeting place in 
breathless haste, they relieved their over¬ 
wrought feelings by continuous bursts of 
laughter. Catching up their hats they started 
in pursuit to “see the fun.” One lady after 
another, dressed as the inamorata had inti, 
meted, came upon the scene, but it was very 
evident that they were not “she,” and from 
hidden points of observation his fellow clerks, 
with cruel joy, watched the now hopeful, now 
disappointed air of their victim, as each fair 
one came in view, and of course turned out to 
1)6 not her of whom be was in quest. Alter 
waiting till long past the hour fixed, the fond 
youth took his departure, consoling himself 
with the reflection that as he was behind time 
most likely the lady, with the impatience of 
her sex had tired of waiting; and hoping that 
she would write again and appoint another 
meeting, when perhaps fortune would be 
kinder, he musingly wandered homewards, 
thanking his stars that Providence bad en¬ 
dowed him with such fascinating manners aud 
so handsome an appearance. 
- « ♦ ♦ - 
TRAVELING IN THE EAST. 
A palanquin for a sick person is a bo x in 
which a bed can be made. One side is open 
when the person is laid in, nnd is closed again 
and fastened. The box has a i-oof and a win¬ 
dow, sometimes one at each end, for light and 
ventilation. It is fastened to two poles, which 
project both ia front and rear of the box, and 
between these projecting poles at each end a 
mule is made to walk, to whose saddle the 
poles are attached. The mule in f ronfc can see 
well enough, but the one b3hind has a hard 
time, because his face is close to the rear of 
the box, and only tbe best aud most sure¬ 
footed animals are selected for that difficult 
position. Even then he is liable to stumble a 
good deal, to bruise his legs, and what is worse, 
to shake and jar the sick person. The sick 
man would roll from side to side, which would 
eau c e the palanquin to turn so that often two 
men, and always one, hail to walk by the side 
of the box to keep it steady. Sometimes it 
would strike a projecting rock or the branches 
of a tree and be almost upset. The path, 
which was mi unusually good one for Syria, 
often went along the edge of a precipice w ith 
ragged rock above, and the’wady now be¬ 
come* a frightful gorge, hundreds of feet 
beneath. Wbat if the mules should make a 
misstep here? Such was always my thought 
as I watched the palanquin aud the man stea¬ 
dying it while passing those dangerous places. 
We were, however, providentially spared 
from any such accident and its consequent 
calamity. We stopped but once during the 
night, except to give our friend water, and 
that was only for twenty or thirty minutes, 
in a narrow place, to let a long procession of 
camels and mules pass. The moon was bright, 
and giant hills and massive rocks, and deep, 
dark gorges with the water rushing at the 
bottom, dense patches of oleander along the 
banks of the stream, with here and there the 
fire of a Bedonin encampment, made up the 
scenery along the route of our night march, 
until we reached the Jordan at 11:80 in the 
morning. It had been a long and anxious 
night —[East of the Jordan. 
THE MARRIAGE OF GREAT MEN. 
Robert Burns married a farm girl, with 
whom he fell in love while they worked to¬ 
gether in a ploughed field. 
Milton married tbe daughter of a country 
squire, and lived with her but a time. He 
was an austere literary recluse, while she was 
a rosy, romping country lass, who could not 
endure the restraint imposed upon her, so they 
separated. Subsequently, however, she re¬ 
turned, and they lived tolerably happy. 
Queen Victoria and Prince Albert were 
cousins, a rare example in the long line of 
English monarchs wherein the marital vows 
were sacredly observed, and sincere affection 
existed. 
Shakspeare loved and wedded a farmer’s 
daughter. 
Washington married a woman with two 
children. It is enough to say she was worthy 
of him, and they lived as married people 
should live—in perfect harmony with each 
other. 
John Adams married the daughter of a 
Presbyterian clergyman. Her father ob¬ 
jected on account of John being a lawyer. 
John Howard, the great philanthropist, 
married his nurse. She was a I together beneath 
him in social life and intellectual capacity, 
and, besides this, was 52 years old, while he 
was but 25. He wouldn’t take “No” for an 
answer, and they were married and lived 
happily until she died, which occurred two 
years afterwards. 
Pete** the Great of Russia married a peasant* 
She made an excellent wife and a sagacious 
empress. 
Humboldt married a poor girl because he 
loved her. Of course they were happy. 
--♦ - 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
Youth is a beautiful season of life. It is 
full of brightness, and radiant in smiles. It 
may well be compared to a mountain rill that 
has just left its bubbling source, which laughs 
and dances along amid tbe beauty and fresh 
ness of (he upland scenery, kissing the fiowers 
that dip their fragrant lips in its lucid waves, 
and smiling in the glad sunshine let in through 
tho waving branches above it, before it reache* 
the great muddy stream to which it is un¬ 
consciously hastening. This freshness and 
gladness that is so inherent in the youthful 
nature should be earned into maturer life. 
What a charm it. would add to middle life and 
old age if it were so. Youth’s outgushing 
gladsomeness, subdued by experience into a 
refined and happy tenderness, would be like 
flowers and fruits dallying amid the foliage 
of the same bough. 
Never believe, much less propagate, an ill- 
report of a neighbor without good evidence 
of its truth; never listen to an infamous story 
handed to you by a man who is himself apt 
to defame his neighbors, or who is wont to 
sow discord among brethren and excite dis¬ 
turbance in society. Never utter the evil 
which you know or suspect of another till you j 
have an opportunity to expostulate with him. 
Never speak evil of another while you are 
under the influence of envy and malevolence, 
but wait till your spirits are cooled down, 
that you may better judge whether to utter 
or suppress the matter. 
The late Dean Stanley is said to have rare¬ 
ly made a gesture when preaching. One day, 
after morning service, he asked bis wife if she 
had noticed tbe intensity with which the con¬ 
gregation bad gazed at him during the ser¬ 
mon. “How could they help it, my dear,’) 
said Lady Augusta, “ when one of vour 
gloves was on tbe top of your head the whole 
time?” The Dean having taken his hat off be¬ 
fore entering the pulpit, the glove lying there¬ 
in had fallen on his head, and, as he stood 
quite still when preaching, there it remained. 
Better to hope though the clouds hang low. 
And lo keep the eyes still lifted [ 
For the sweet blue sky will soon peep through, 
When the ominous clouds are rirted. 
—M. A. Kidder. 
Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, ab¬ 
horred smoking. Hi* Quaker Council one day 
observing his approach, laid down their 
pipes. “I am glad to see,” said Penn, “you 
are ashamed of that habit.”—“Not at all,” re¬ 
turned a principal triend; we only laid them 
down lest we should offend a weak brother.” 
Everyone in this world has his or her Bhare 
of troubles and trials. Let us,then, try as much 
as we are able not to increase the burden of 
any by as much as the weight of a straw. 
A LAWYER who climbs on a chair after a 
law book gets a little higher in order that he 
may get a little lore. 
Fear of punishment and hope of reward 
move cowards and sycophants. Virtue is in¬ 
dependent of either. 
A NOBLE part of every true life is to learn 
to undo what has bean wrongly done. 
CONDUCTED BY MISS RAY CLARK. 
THINK OF ME. 
TniNK of me ! When ? 
Just at the gentle twilight hour, 
When the flews are falling on tree and flower: 
When birds to tlielr quiet nests have gone 
Anil the Summer night comes softly on— 
Think of me then. 
Think of me ! when ! 
As some sweet strain we have loved to hear 
Comes with a pathos deep to thine ear: 
Or a soft note o’er thy senses flung 
Brings hack the time when that lay was sung— 
Think of me then. 
Think of me! When ? 
At the early hour of Sabbath morn, 
When no rude sounds on the breeze are borne ; 
When all Is balmy and sweet and still, 
And the mists are rising from stream and hill— 
Think of me then. 
Think of me 1 When ? 
At that lone hour, when on bended knee 
Thou art breathing a prayer to the Deity. 
That all whom thou lovost He may defend. 
O, ask some boon for thy distant friend— 
Think of me Ihen. 
-.*♦-*.- 
A LITTLE TALK WITH OUR LADY 
READERS. 
It is not always convenient to send for a 
new pattern, when we live several miles from 
the village, just when it is needed; 
and then we may not know ex¬ 
actly what we want. It is our 
aim to help along iu these mat¬ 
ters as best we can, and should be 
glad to know if any of our lady 
readers have found the cuts we 
have issued in this department of 
service. 
Every one has suit patterns of 
some kind and can use them ad¬ 
vantageously, making to all ap¬ 
pearances an entire new garment, 
by altering the over-skirt and tbe 
trimming. 
The little folks clothes can he 
changed the same way, and we 
present a cut of a child’s dress, 
more for the style of trimmings 
than for the shape of the dress 
itself. 
A row of insertion, either Swiss, 
Hamburg or lace, heads the top 
of the ruffles under which is run a 
pretty colored ribbon, and finished 
on the left side with a full bow 
made of several loops of the rib¬ 
bon with the same on each shoul¬ 
der. If lace insertion is used in¬ 
stead of either Swiss or Hamburg, 
line the pieces' running perpen¬ 
dicularly with ribbon also. The 
effect of this is beautiful and the 
dress can be made at a small cost. 
This Summer there have been several new 
colors in the woolen materials, such as camel’s 
hair cloth or Beatrice cloth. These colors are 
named for fruits and crushed fruit at that. 
Why this is so, who knows? 
Crushed banana is the name for the new 
pale yellow shades worn this season. 
Crushed raspberry is another new color im¬ 
possible to describe if the name itself fails of 
doing so, but it looks just exactly as if rasp¬ 
berries had been crushed all over it. To use 
common parlance, it is a faded red. 
But art may invent many new colors 
A Child’s Dkk&s —Figure 235. 
and shades of colors, and there will always 
be those who will wear tnern, be they 
ever so odd; yet in no other color can so 
much money b« spent *« in blank costumas 
Garden Chair.—Figure 234. 
