the opelousas courier (opelousas, la.) 1889-03-16 [p...

151 pxau ua bauur.LEONCE & L. A. SANDOZ, Publishers.

OPELOUSA., - OUI'IkN A..

FIRST LOVE

YMIar age on tender tiptoe she would stealinto my chamber,

Saoer than a song at sea that dies upon thedeep:

Then would bend and plant a flower of loveupon my lips in slumber,

Se•iing, liken dream, half true, when I wasl-asleep.

And at times, as I lay watching for the fairiesI believed in,

If I heard her footfalls, how I slyly wouldpretend

I was fast asleep, and listen to her bosom heav-ing o'er me,

Like far music with whose echoes faintest per-fumes blend !

Years and years ago, how lovely! sat wouldsteal into my chamber;

Then wotld kneel and pray for me beside mytrundle-bed.

And I used to think the golden stars were eyesof happy angels.

Bending smiles of bright approval on hergolden head.

Years and years ago, in first love often stoleinto my chamber,

And how many a flower of love her warmplanted then !

ark night-a shadow of the Night

From my 'hU low she went-and nevercame again.

Often since those nights of childhood I've beencrowned with thorns and roses;

Many falls have made me humble, some suc-

oesses proud.I have had the love of maiden, felt the glorious

thrill of friendship,Drunk the poet-wine of nature under sun and

cloud.

And yet now, within the twilight, as I think ofall the raptures.

All that have been mine, or may be in thefitere's keep-

-Sure ahi sadly sure, it seemeth, all togetherthey weigh nothing

To one light kiss from my mother on mymake-believe-asleep.

-H. W. Austin, in S. S. Times.

A ILT•TLE BOOT-BLACKI

How He Sought to Provide for His n

-Mother, and the Sequel.

" Blaok our boots, sir?"It was a childish voice, sweet and ~

..'pleading, most unlike the usual shrill, dhalf impudent-une of the boot-blackairray, and Gerge Meredith looked a

;4own to seethe speaker. Being a tal pman,• over six feet, and somewhat po c

ly, with Aty-five years of life, mostly cof prosperity, he looked quite a dis-

tahoe downward before he saw thelittle fellow who spoke. Such a very t

little fellow! He.did not look more

than sin years old, and had close clus-twring curls of fair hair, and big blue

eyes like a baby. But the small facewas pale and thin, the limbs, butinscantily clad, were far too slender, andthe low, sweet voice had an unchild-

dike pathos in its tone.

"9•p--" said Mr. Meredit., before

•h• l :' 4"Wet•, yes, you may!" head e~ afterward. "What's your-he Pt"he asked, presently.

,anm. Orphan?"Soi r:a• , Mother is living, but she

stppe ona the ice about two weeksago.*adbroke her brm. She did not think

I was big enough to work before that,butishe had to let me try then. I don't

make out very welL Gentlemen think

rm too little. But I can make bootsshine, ~an't I?"

"Youa have certainly made that oneshIne," was the reply, while Mr. Mere-

dith.thought: "Here is something rare,

nladeed, a boot-black who talks correct

} Zagis. Has he stepped out of anovel?"

'o a moment he spoke again."What work did your mother doP"

he asked. 0*•Elmbroider for a fancy store. She

eeuldn't work very fast, because she

isn't every strong; but we don't eat a

v gr• deal; that's one comfort ".,~Sry comfort!" ~-tttered the gen-

S leman. "Any brothers or sisters?"S "A dead, sir. Mamie was the last

s eptg:e, and she died in consumptio.i.. w~,w sixteen and helped mamma: w' sa keep the rooms in order. Oh,dear!"

'.-"tua just a chld's , comingir aG fall heart to ans the look of

•M e and sympathy in the gentle-

9eu like blacking boots?" wasthe next question.

,• o. ,like to run errandsP""I think Ishould."

-'-,Mswmuch can you make a day

m ost I ever made was fortyt This is my Lirst job to-day."

i;- ay o* eadP?".i -br,( y, .air. I am ten years

3o-16a 4idO to-morrow morning toa 8d4Wmin on this crrd, and I will try

... salsr-sa4 boy."a egivg thelad a ifty-oesut piece

Sto wait until -he went toStrit, George Meredith

st o .hts hoe1 his solitary~;f - bachelor rapartments.

h e thought, "'how much that.F of some o Ie, I a't

SmIt is. So .e one who badhg g blue eyes, at once shy;I*aeoping most of the tisia

truthfmt when they iUsi is very vague,

_"atetlo apt . I give.elotRacs,ad pay* N eagt hismother

i~twfeak~wF~ ~ cltheo

He wrote a note, directed it n "Dr.James Turner," added the address, andgave it to the boy.

"Am I to wait for an answer, sir"'

"No! Leave it, if the doctor is not

at home.""Now," he thought, "I shall know

if he is an impostor, at any rate. ByJove!" he exclaimed aloud, "it's AgnesWellden!"

Then clients and friends came in,and the business of the day commenced.But the boy was not forgotten. Er-rands that were not too far away totax his strength were providedI ahearty dinner at arestaurant was givenhim, and he went home with a steadyengagement at five dollars a weekpromised him.

In that home a sad-eyed woman, ina shabby widow's dress, her face linedwith pain and sorrow, but yet a sweet,tender face, had been all the wearyday living her life again. She sawherself a child in her father's pleasanthome, where there was never greatwealth, but every comfort and an at-mosphere of love around them all.She saw herself a young, pretty girl,with many friends, and some lovers.One of these was a man older by fif-teen than herself; grave and tender,but who seemed in her girlish eyestoo old and solemn to think of love.When her father told her to be his

wife, she was frightened. It seemed

as if it would destroy her youth, takeall joyousness from her life, to marrythis stately, reserved man, already a

lawyer oTf standing.So she refused him, never appreciat-

ing the value of the heart that hadbeen taken captive by her brightnessand sweet girlishness. How could sheknow that it would have made thehappiness of the grave, lonely man's

life to surround her with all that couldkeep her as joyous and free as a but-terfly.

He left his old home after his love-dream faded, but he left pleasant

memories. Even after William Scottwooed and won the woman he had lost?she could not quite forget the graveman who had loved her.

Sunny days of wedded happinessfollowed her happy girlhood. Chil-dren came to bless her, and when herparents died, her husband, her sonsand daughters conseled her. She was

past thirty years old when troublescame, thick, fast, overwhelming. Twochildren died op the same day of a

prevailing feve• ,and before the monthwas over her husband followed themto the grave. He had been a clerk,on a moderate salary, and the nest

egg in bank was very small, vet the

s widow looked at the little ones lefts her and strove to face her futuret bravely. It was the pitiful story to be

hi eard every day-irregular work,

-ioor pay, sickness, death! The re.

moval from a country home to as crowed city, in the hope of bettess work and wages, proved a failure, anir the air of a crowded tenement housdwarfed and injured the children, whodied one by one, till only her babyGeorge Mereditih Scott, was left te console the widow.

While she mused and wept over thispanorama of her life, wondering a lit-tle that some long-past memol'y hadmadC her name the boy for her oldfriend, never hoping to meet him again,Dr. Turner called,

He explained very courteously thatMr. Meredith had requested him tosee if his professional services wouldnot help her, and examined the arm.His directions were brief, and he lefther to wonder itf indeed her old friendwas the gentleman who was helpingher boy, a•l whose eard lay betweenthe leaves ll the ,ible.i-

Dr. Turner's r4wt to Mr. Meredithwas: a

'Delicate woman, evidently a lady.Arm doing very well, but generalhealth at the lowest ebb. Want. goodood, better air, and, above all, mental

quiet. Fretting herself to death."George Meredith being one of those

rare philanthropists whose left handknew not the good deeds of his righthand, made no parade of b genar-osity. If Mrs. Soott -guesed, shenever knew whence eame an envelopewith a generous gift of beak notes It

enabled her t o make George neat, to

O1d to her-own scanty attie, and toprovide the .mediines and food Dr.Turner no longer hesitated to order.

In these weeks et followed George'sengagement as errand boy to Mr. ]ier-.edith, the boy won his way far hato theheart of the bahelor lawyer. -Feyears: after his rejectims by AgnesWelnde, he had lived a Busytlife, try-ing tg forget the 'p ait of his barokenlove dream in Bhis ambuitt . A manalways reserved, c .ara ta frsoeiety, he had gien t his c ll ied's.child the onei 1!t of his lIfe, neverstriving to uhplace hrlee. Im .I$ hisheart, never seekingto ad d rdt i joyto lasscheme nofe- It aitawealbs toomuch to say tht he bad s estr te a sed,in the yees *lat w & hfir 'ap

poseatmeat, f sa iwtfsi. A' taravolled trIn eSeSft.. wheibeu ever tho hith 4d4~vi andwhen he took .Ge ie eStSio o bi.

under the y be aeWI'of professioinal uals sas tait a

Bat4be bf ,,tirre -:

4., ne a a77 o at dir

"Lad employed here name of Scott??"he asked.

"Yes. What has happenedP""Knocked down by a runaway team;

badly hurt. We took him home, and I

he wanted me to let you know why he swas away."

"Thanks. I will go to him." tHe took up his hat as he spoke, won- 1

dering himself at the thrill of pain at Ihis heart. He knew then that he loved i

the boy as he had not loved any one *

for many long years. The lad's own

sweetness, with the eyes that were a

memory of his mother, had endeared

him to the world-worn lawyer, till it

was with positive pain he bent over the

bed and saw the little face white and

drawn with agony."My poor boy!" he said, tenderly,

"what can I do fo2J i?""Did mother •o away?" the child

whispered. "She said I might see youalone."

"There is no one here but our-selves."

"May be I'm wicked," the child said,

"because mother told me not to tell

you now. No, please; don't stop me.I'm badly hurt, sir, and I may die, and

mother will be all alone; and so I

want to tell you that she knew you

once, many years ago, and that my

name is George Meredith Scott. I was

named for you, sir; and mother'sf told

me so much about you, and how good

you always were, that I am sure youwill be kind to her if I die."

"You may be sure, George, that

whilh I live your mother will never

want a friend."Presently she came in, a pale shad-

ow of his brilliant young love, and

yet when they greeted each other the

voices of both were unsteady, and in

each heart was a memory that made

the meeting at once a pain and a joy.Over the little bed where George

lay for weeks in patient suffering,

George Meredith once more let gisheart expand to new hope, lovihgwith deep, protecting affection his

love of long ago.And the woman who had once

thought life was to be all brightness,and who had shrunk from even a shad-

ow on her path, knew at last what aheart she had once rejected. That he

could love her again, with her beautyfaded, her life .broken by sorrow, did

not occur to her, though she knew that

her passionate gratitude to him had

long been love, such as she had

thought buried forever in her hus-

band's grave..It, was in their first grateful joy over

Dr. Turner's assurance that Georgewas- out of danger and would entirely

recover, that these two long separatedhearts met at last.

They scarcely could have told them-

selves in what words they exchangedvows of fidelity and love, but in Mrs.

i Scott's heart there was not one thoughtr of the worldly gain that would followl her marriage, and George Meredith

B knew that for love, and by love alone,3 his wife was won at last.-AnnaShield's, in N. Y. Ledger.

AMONG THE JAPANESE.

Some of the Pleaanut Things to Be Seen t.In the Ld of the Mikado. t

The first thi•that strikes the visitor ,to Japan is the exceedingly civility of P

every body, bstom-house rfleers in- i

cluded. Cheerfulness, gout temper i

and politeness are univeria, Ot emothers smile, the children chatter

without quarreling in the streets, and

it is a pleasure tovwatch the ordinarywork-people as they meet and go

through the prescribed etiquette of

bowing and shaking hands with each

other. DIffesnees over the carriage

of your pereyn and effects-if they-exist-are spledily settled without the

usmof bad langndge and angry oaths,and in less time than it takes `owrite, the travyer and his bag-

gage are put into "jinrikishas" (or

light earriages 4rawn by one or

more men scantily dresse4e with mnny

white hate shapel like mushrooms),and are trottpd of to the Grand Hotel,4dmous for . Ensglish comfort end

Wrench euisine. These "jinrikishas,"or man-power grriages, deserve a

word or two in passing. Of moderninvention, they have been improvised

to supply the want of horses and flys,and it is marvelous to see what power

et endurance and capacity for toil is to

be found amongst the little broad-houldered coolies who draw them. It

is quite a common thing for them tokeep up a good steaws pace of six ormaven miles an hour, on a diet of rice,ash or te, for as many hours in the

da&, an4 sl this for the scanty wageOf a little over two cents a mile.These are stubborn facts, which,by co•parison, make one tremblefortb future of "the English working

laumem , unless they make up theirmadis to gird themselves up for the

lop• a, gif gle. The. bitter cry of-,rt a home increases yearly

it te in g dislike of the ris-

ing generationto hard manual labor.Tl Europe and Asia is the

-Ia qlk.-fo 'manU nd Japanesebeu3us wit Ot'vOW weapons, because

torbok I fie ager and for lessSIt wa• not always so: but edu-has ofte nd s, and philan-i ta, * the best intentious, l

oigm sto, destroy the sturdyin f ldonce the

*T Juoa gaintly "wants butli~isbe beisw " Wltcotton clothes,

of rdoio si h , na ee ofStLeand dab, .maeee b me are not

-high. iAa ovtinary cooien or laborer inthe ! rolIs qulmtent with half a dollara week. A 1erk in a tgovernment of-

Iee "pAid' wiSh 2Ga year, and+ j& ablast li lewrith @.00 The

aetlld ties00 life i all classesat l~eg thlr4at of what they

I . .g Statese, or in

_ :~ toma1n t d a aboutAnd- f. d :elean, fairly

6 said

temp Md SMPI t

-EIe -

EUGENIE'S SAD FATE.

An I.Empress Who Is Alone With SeMemories and Sorrows. '

Four times have I seen the Emp( beEugenie. The first was a few mo/s

after her marriage, when she occued,with her husband, the imperial x atthe Comedie Francaise, exquis e tobehold in white silks and pearl, the dcfamous pearls that had formed the ofEmperor's bridal gift. I shall not soon pIforget the slender, swaying throat

rising from the statue lovely shoulders ds

with the grace of a lily stalk, the

golden lighted tresses, the large malmond shaped blue eyes, wi~ that tbmysterious sadness in their -pthe mthat one sees in the portraits of Charles tlI., shading their azure brilliancy andnot to be chased away even by thesunny sweetness of the smiling mouth.

Ten years later I again beheld the St

Empress, this time in full court dressat a gala representation at the opera, tblazing with diamonds, with that peer- mless gem, the Regent, surmounting the rSlassic-shaped diadem that she never Is

ore since except at the penalty of an

agonizing headache, so great was its uweiht. Her delicate, flower-like ,beauty had develped and expanded o

into that of a well-ripened fruit, the d

rounded arms and finely moulded

shoulders dimpling out of glowing a

draperies of rich red silk. She sat dlike a statue or like some gem-be- ,

decked Indian idol, so motionless that

her diamonds flamed; they did notflash or sparkle. Next I beheld her ,

scowled upon by the Parisian crowd e

at the review in 1870, a tired-looking r

elderly woman, with the dainty &harmsof her youth and the glowing graces

of her prime replaced by all the arti- C

flees known to the inventors of French

cosmetics.And then, a year or two ago, I passed,

on the Place Vendome, a sorrow!l lady.clad in deep mourning, with silvery

ha~ir a:nd an infirm gait, who was in the

act of getting into her carriage, aidingherself with a cane as she did so.

There was no mistaking the sad sweet-ness of the ex-Empress passing throughParis on her way to one of the conti-

nental watering places.Her health is good, with the excep-

tion of the rheumatic affection that has

troubled her for years, and that im-

pels her to seek annually the counselsand care of the great physicians of

Amsterdam. She is wealthy, and ingrowing old she has grown penurious,so that her heirs, the children of her'sister, the Duchess of Alba, will prob-

ably inherit one day an immensefortune.

Like a ghost of the vanished empire

that gave her grandeurs, and to which

she imparted grace and charm, she

flits from one health-giving place i."

public resort to another, alone onearth with her memories and her sor-rows. She has survived all those

whom she loved - husband, son,mother and sister. Dead, too, are herhopes and ambitions; they have

a vanished like her -,world-renownedbeauty, like her Qu•ienship, like her

long-hoped - for andgljoyously -hailedmaternity. Often ii the watches of

i thq night a storm of grief will seatterthe calmness offer resignation to the

r winds, and she will sit for hours

If weeping before the portrait of the

late Prince-Imperial.--Pittsburgh Dis-r ntrjh

COLOR OF RACE-HORSES. 1.Interesting Arable Theories Preseatd in

tie Form of a Legend.

In a series of interviews now being if

given out by many of the turf men of wKentucky much difference of opinionexists as to the effect color has over d

speed and bottom. One says one color h

and one says another, the dark bays, 0however, having the call, with thedark chestnuts next

In this connection some interesting tArabic theories upon the color of the

horse are given in an anecdote in a anew French book just published in this

country. "*Ben Dyar, a renowned 1chief of the desert, happening to be

pursued one day by. Saad-el-Zenaty, 8t.ned to his son and asked: 'What d

horses are in front of the enemy?''White horns,' repliedthe son. 'It is 1

well; let us make for"the sunny side,and they will melt away like butter.'Some time after BewQ Dyar againturned to his son and said: 'Wha horses

are in front of the enemy? 'Black

horses,' cried the son. 'It is well; letus make for stony ground, and we

shall have nothing to fear. They arethe negroes of the Soudan, who cannot walk with bare feet upon the flints.'He changed his course, and the blackhorses were speedily distanced. A 1third time Ben Dyar asked: 'And nowwhat horses are in front of the cnemyr'Dark chestnuts and dark bays.' 'In

that case,' said Ben Dyar, 'strike out,

my children, strike out, and give yourhorses the heel, for these perchancemight overtake us hid we not given

barley to ours all the summerthrough."'

We imegine that the experiencedobservees of the civilized turf willagree that old Ben Dyar was right,notwithstanding such contradictions of

his principles as were afforded by two

really first-class horses, Ben d'Or and

Proctor Knott. The old theory that'.the race for supremacy lay betweenr the bob-tailed Mng and the gray wasnever true-indeed. it was more than

i ridiaelous to even set-up such a claim.-The contest always .Is been and al-

ways will be between tlhe bay and thechestnutt The Arabs have another theoryabbout

Scolor marks which has been set to a.

sort of rhyme that jingles thus:One white toot buvy a hireS::Two white-feet try abothe;•Three white feet look well about him;

Foul white testo without himt}

And yet the celebrated Flying Child-y ors had four white feet, -the equally

a celebrated Eclipse three, Fashion twoand the Plylng Dutchman te•

i Another thing--some of, the finestSamong the rabian horses themselvesarem spotted like Ciro"s trick ponies.

-But then the production @t these spots" and stripeels an art onlycarried out inia the great deserts of, saids, nomads-if and wandwingearavana.-Kansas City

S-Jonsem, in the kithea, waxesSangry with the obmbe'maid, andr fr.iMy reaslrk: "It thes is Iany

;ar t beli to losout'l.ety I do's

PRIVATE LETTERS.

il lPoet Whittler ass something to leg A

on a Tlckish Subject.

The poet Whittier has enunciated ahard doctrine in a recent letter to a sul

friend in regard to the publication of ey

private epistles. How it chances that Pr

the principles he so emphatically lays W(

down are violated b the publication en

of this particular document is not ex- it

plained; but it is rather surprising, misince he writes: "Some years ago I fin

destroyed a large collection of letters "I

I had received, not from any regard to of

my own reputation, but from the fear an

that to leave them liable to publicity fey

might be injurious or unpleasant to W

the writers or their friends. They th

covered much of the anti-slavery di

period, and the war of the rebellion, te

and many of them, I know, were th

strictly private and confidential. I ar

was not able at the time to look over ca

the MSS., and I thought it safest to ca

make a bonfire of all. I have always cc

regarded a private and confidential pi

letter as sacred, and its publicity in tr

any shape a shameful breach of trust,

unless authorized by the writer. I ic

only wish my own letters to thousands di

of correspondents may be as carefully fa

disposed oL" -, s1

The ground here taken is certatily b•

a sufficiently high one. The logical E

deduction from the position of the si

writer is that most biographies are F

practically violations of the decent re- a

serve which shoald surround the dead, tI

since it is difficult to believe that there c

exists a modern biography which does

not owe its information largely to t

what Mr. Whittier calls private letters. n

Leaving, for the moment, the wider squestion whether biographies as such n

are or are -not of value, it is fair to t

consider that every honest man, if ii

told that his history will be written, t

will first of all desire that it be true. P

To'testroy his letters would, in the .

case of tany person of sufficient note to

'save been coiLe"ned in important r

events, be to lessen the chance of the I

truth's being known, either in regard C

to himself or others. Certainly if bi-

ography and history are to be written, Iit is important that they shall ap- Iproach as nearly as possible to the I

truth; and neither Mr. Whittier no

anybody else has a right to destroy I

documents which would assist in

bringing the truth to light. Justice

to the memory of his friend should i

lead one who has important letters to 1see that they are properly used, not I

that the risk is run of having historymisrepresented for want of them. Mr. I

Whittier himself would *undoubtedly I

prefer that "his letters to thousandsof correspondents" should be printed

to having his life misrepresented and

the high causes in defense of which he

has fought so well misunderstood.The fact is that while this matter of

publicatfon seems at first glance both

unpleasant and unjustifiabe, it is but

another form of the universai'truththat no man's life belongs to hirrelf.

Perhaps a man has no more right

either to expect or to svish to take tothe grave with him 'i•y mle than

he takes his gold the personal privacy

which is as much a luxury of life as is

his treasure. In any case the historyof man belongs to the living; and since

the history of man is made up of the

history of men, in their story the world

has an inalienable right. It follows

that documents which seem private

property are often public trusts, and

not therefore to be disposed of accord-

ing to the simple will of the possessor,who is really simply a custodian.

It is not of course meant that all the

r details of life, the private experiences,r hidden emotions and intimate secrets

of the heart, are to be laid open to the_ market place. It is not that public

vulgar curiosity is to be satisfied,,butthe significant, the general, the things

Swhich belong to the life of the people

Sor to the growth of the public senti-

Sment or belief--these things belongd not to the individual, but to the race.

And so, despite our recognition of the

Sgenuine sincerity of the act and of the

t delicacy of feeling which prompted it,we can not help feeling that it is at

least an open question whether Mr.

Whittier had a moral right to destroy

those letters, relating, as many of

them must have done, to some of the

Smost important events which haveever shaken and shaped our Nation.-Boston Courier.

The Vital Functions.

It is well understood that the vital

functions are more or less processes ofcombustion, and are subject to lawssimilar to those which regulate the 4

burning of coal in our fireplaces. Weare apt to put on too much coal, or al-low the fire to be smothered in ashes.The child pokes the 1re from the topto make it burn faster; but the wise

man pokes it from below to rake outthe ashes and allow free access of'tx-ygen. And so it is with the functionsof life, only that these being less un-derstood, many a man acts in regard tothem as a chid does to the fire. Theman thinks tiat his brain is not actingbecause he has not supplied it with

sufficient food. He takes meat threetimes a day and beef tea to supply itswants, as he thinks, and puts in a pok-er to stir it up in the shape of a glasof sherry or a nip from the brandy bot-tle. And yet, all the time, his brain issuffering from accumulation of ash,.and the more he continues to cramhimself with food, and to supply him-self with stimulants, the worse heultimately becomes, just as the child'sbreaking the coal may cause a tempo-:raty blaze, but allows the fire to beimothered in aqhes.--Hall's Journal ofdesalth.

-In one of the Sunday schools re-eently the subject of the creation ofman was under discussion. A brightboy who had cavilled at nothing whichhad preceded, when the story of theproduction of Eve was reached de-clared that he didn't believe a word ofit "For," said he, "there was anyquantity of the same material thatAdam was made of lying around loose,and I don't believe God would haveripped up Adam, whom he had justfinished, just to get a rib to make Evewith."-Lowell Courier.

---An Eastern sevat has discoveredthat ,the human body contains morebanes on Yrdag tha on 8y other dayo atwigk. -asbht'EPo*XxpreX

THE EAST AND WEST. 0A Very Nice and Delicate Question in

Ethical Geography.

If there is, as legend says there is,

such a thing, seen through Western e<

eyes, as an "effete East." what are its

precise territorial limits? In other

words, where does such an East really.end and the West begin? Or, to state

it still differently, at what point on the E

map may one, itfo disposed, put one's

finger confidently down and say:"Here is the spot where the effeteness

of the arrogant East abruptly ends, .and in its stead is the unexpended

fecundity of a liberal, untrammeledWest?" While the matter is not onethat will, apparently, in the imme- a

diate future give rise to serious in-

ternational complication, it is. never-

theless, of no little domestic moment,

and may, at some distant day, even I

call for State interference and adjudi-cation at the hands of a boundary E

commission, to be chosen from the im-

partial outlying districts in the ex-

treme North and South.In reality, the problem of geograph-

ical separation would be one extremelydifficult to solve to the complete satis-

faction of all concerned. It is, for in-

stance, not merely a broad question

between Maine and Oregon, between

Eastport and Portland, or even, pos-

sibly, between New York and San

Francisco. On general grounds, it

might be admitted that somewhere in

the intervening space the line would

certainly fall. On a somewhat closer

examination, however, it will be foundthat facts other and more minute than

mere latitude and longitude must be

seriously taken into consideration. It

may even be not unfairly assumed that

the fundamental idea of East and West

itself is only relative, and can not be

thus recklessly applied. Schenectady,where Daisy Miller lived, is west of

Jersey City; and we all know that Osh-

kosh lies far to the westward of Kala-

mazoo. If, in the inquiry thus set on

foot, the rea'ons for the necessary

distinction were still more closely in-

quired into, it might even be shown

that they who have thoughtlessly used

the epithet in question themselves

may fall under its ban.When the division is finally made,

it must be who.ly irrespective of any

2 mere sectional prejudice, to which it

a should rise sui.erior. The West, it

I may be supposed, will accept the judg-

o ment joyfully; while the East, from

t the very nature of the case, will be

y sure, wherever the line is drawn, to

regard it with its accustomed equa-

v nimity. Only those who, in a possible

a redistribution, may now for the first

d time be included under the term

"d East" will become even a little more

a intolerant than they who have longerborne the name. For purely practical

f reasons, apart from mere sentiment,

h the distinction here suggested ought

Lt soon to be made. It was on the island

h of Grand Manan, down in the Bay off. undy, last summer, that a comment

it was made upon the scarcity in the

o community of young people of both

a sexes. "How is it," we asked, "that

y we see so few young men and women

is here?" "Well," the captain replied,

,y "a great many have married and gone

e west." "West?" we said. "To what

ie part of the West?" "Well," said the

Id captain, "mostly to Boston." - At-

rs lantic.

ROCKETS IN STORMS.

Distributing Oil Over Large Stretches ofTroubled Water.

The patent for an improved methodof distributing oil on a stormy sea, in'vented in Germany, has been purchased

by the Norddeutsche Lloyd SteamshipCompany. #

A rocket, to which is attached acylinder filled with oil, comprised themain part of the patent.

When a heavy storm arises on theocean, and the ship is in danger fromthe waves, the rocket, it is said, canbe fired so that the oil in the cylindercan be distributed at any point thjnavigators wish.

Several very interesting experimentshave been lately made by the capt nsof the Nord-deutsche Lloyd steamshipsduring storms on the Atlantic. Theygo to show that the rockets can be .ofired that the oil can be *tributedover from 2,000 to 5,000 square feet oftroubled water.

On one occasion recently a rocketwas fired a distance of over 1,500 feet.Again, when in a nor'wester, anotherrocket was fired in the teeth of a galea distance of 900 feet. By the explosionof five rockets at a distance of 1,200 to1,500 feet from one of the ,•ord-deutsche fleet, a space of 2,000 t6 3,004square feet of water was overed'withthe oil, and the heavy motion of the

ea calmed.Experiments are being made with an

eye to the improvement of even thispatent.

"The importance of this inventionto ocean sailors," said one of the firmof Louis Contanseau, of the BordeauxSteamship Line, "consists in the cer-tainty of explosion of the rocket at asufficient distance from the ship toleave the vessel in calm water duringa gale.

"By means of the rocket," continuedhe, "a very small ~hip can go safelythrough the fie6Eest of Atlanticstorms."-Cor. Chicago Times. .

Carnot as a Carpenter.

The President of France is a first-class carpenter, and can handle thosaw and plane as well as any mechanic.It was at Chabanais, in the Charente,where his father possessed a chateau,that he learned the yade. Carnot,senior, insisted that all his childrenshould learn some occupation; "thereis no telling," he used to say; "youmay want it some day, for we live instrange times." So Carnot, junior,was put to the bench, and, accordingto his professor, one M. Delarge, whois still living, acquitted himself mosthonorably. In memory of this eventin his career, M. S irdin, who was anapprentice at thattime, but is now amaster cabinet-maker in.the FaubourgSt. Antoine, demanded an audience ofthe Chief of t'6e State, and has receiveda reply to the effect that the Presidentwill be happy to meet his old fellow-workman and talk shop with him a'ittleq-Londos Standard.

OPELOUSAS FEMALE IISTITUTE,Opelousas, 4t. Landry Parish, La.

rTHIS institution will resume duties Monday,1 eptember. Ir, 15. 8. under the immediate

supervision of Mrs. Dt. M. Hayes and Mr. M.A. Davis, with competent aslstants. Thescholastle year consists of forty weeks.

TERtMS OF TUITION.Preparatory Department, per month.... 2 @Academic D.p:,ltment, per month...... 300Music, with use of piano ......... ... 600Boarding-Including washing, light and

fuel. ................. ......... 1600Embroidery, war flowers, palnting,

drawing, each, extra.............. 10 00Incidental fee........ ................. 1 0

DISCIPLINE.The government of this school is strict but

parental; no hard tasks or restrictions are im-posed, but ev.ery student must comply withthe rules. and n.ust prelare up to the meas-ure of her ability. the lessons assigned.

Our course of study and mode of instructionare to train the mind to hab ts of correctthinking and thorougn investigation. NLstudent will be allowed to enter higher classeswithout thorough preparation. Parents andguardians may rest assured that the manners,health and morals of the (hildren and wardsshall reueile due attent on

No daduetion for absence. unless in case ofprotracted itnes-. The lHwation of the townis hea:lthful and easy of accesa The boardingdepartment is utnder the inmtlediate charge ofMIrs. Hat es. lona tiers v ill Irot ide thenm-selves with blanket andl to•,.. For partlcu-lars address, Mi R. M. M. HAYhS,

july vS'3,-nov2,'79 Principal.

ST. MARY'S ACADEMY,()lpelouile, U.a.THE ourse of instruction in this institution

embraces English. Irench, Latin. Greek,Arithlmetic. Algebra, Geonmetry, Book-keep.ing, Natural cences, History, Ge; grabphy,Penmanship. and great care is bestowed onChrist an Instruction.

Tetaa--lioard and tuition, per month, $16:Day Scholars, per month. V$2. $i or $4, accord-nlg to class. t lasses are resumed on Wednes.

day, Septemuber 15th, Ire8.REV. G. RAYMOND, D.D.,

-REV. F. J. RAYMOND,HENRY G. LEWI::,

Aug :9. 1888 M... LFRED BIUILLET.

CONVETW of to ILXACULAT CeWCR()pelonlsa•. La.

rpHE course of studies in this institution ismost extensive. embracingall te branches

taught in the best institutions of America orEurope. Terms are very uiodlerate.

l oard and tuiti n per month. 12": Dayscholars, per month. $2, $S or $4. according toclass Olpening of the classes, the first Mon-day of Septemmer. auu g

MT. C RMEL CONVENT,WVashington. La.

Board and tuition per month......... ...$12 0% ashinc per month............ . ......5usic and stpinyr per month............ 4 0Drawing and tthtting per month....... 2 00

For further information addresssep29' THE MOi' THR SUPERIOE.

L. A. BLACK. J. L. MORRIS.

BLACK & MORRIS,

Office: Cor. Market and Landry Sts.,OPF.LOUSAS, LOUISBIANA.THE following old and reliable comp.a•te

represented: Liverpool and London andGlobe Insurance Company. of England;

H-ome and Niagara Insurance Companmes, ofNew York: Fire Associalion, of Philadelphia;and Home, Hope and Mecbanics' and Traders'

Ineurauce Companies, of New Orleans. 7'

A. P. McNEIL,Agrohbiteot and l:i1der,

OPELOUSAS. LOUISIANA.

PLANS. Specifications anl Es'Imates furnished for al manner of buildings, on tih

most reasonab.e terms. Contracts taken f•rall kinds of work. in brick. iron, stone radwood. Material furnished for repairs sadconstruut'on if desired. Plantation andeous.try work attended to with dispatch. All workfirst-clne and satisfaction guaranteed. Ordersdirected to P. O. Box 67 will receive proaaptattention. jaJB

H. . FISHER,Carpenter and Builder,WT' ILL undertake all work in his lnelatowa, or country. The butlding of stores ad

private on idences a spe cialty. Estimstesad•lans furnished if desired. Orders left with

r. Jos. Ducharme, corner Court and BHvue stree:s. will have prompt attention.

Olelou as Nov. 24, 18i8.

C. D. DTEWART,Contractor, Carpenter and Balier,W I LL e mtract fortheerectionof buildnlag

of all kinds, turnishing all matarial atdesired. Work done promptly and at reo

asn

able rates. Orders through the postof•egiv n prompt attention. Est :mate and plinfurnisohed. Having special facilities for obtaining I MBER AT REDUCED lRATr. Ill1

give my patrons the benefit of the same.sepl4

' H. D. LARCADE,

Bellevue Street, near the Bridge,OPELOU'AS, LA.

ALL kinds of Tin, Copper and Sheet Ieawork done on short notice and at reales

able priceis. Guttering and r,,paritng a ap

clalty. Makes and repairs evaporator trappans.

J. B. bANDOZ & BRO:,Have a large stock of

Whicb tYcy are seliing at the

LOWVEST L1VING PRICES

CALL AND EXAMINE.

B. A. LITTELL,

Physician and SurgS03•Office at Littell's Drug Store, Maim itnt

OPELOUSAF

R. A. J. BERCIER,

Omee corner of Landry and (alon Ba,

OPELOUSA&, LA.

He uses the new local anicstheti o"Ce5J

in painful operations jltoutt extitS '

DR. V. K. IRION,-

OPELOUSAS, LA.'

Office on Market street, agdolahSU eMorris.

DR. J. A. DERBANNE,

WASHINGTON, Lk.

All calls from the country will be5 0M

answered.

LEONCE E. LITTELL,

Civil Engineer and Snrvear,Office with Cias. W. Dui.e*

25Y] OPELOUSAS, LA.

. D. E. STLETL. r.1elis

ESTILETTE & DUPr!Attorneys at IT-'A

Office corner of Court and Viane 5t

OPELOUSAS, LA.

W. C. PARRAULT,

Notary;Publie and AnD1lC

OPELOUSAS, " al

Will give prompt attention to allentrusted to him.

JOSEPH M MOO"

Attorney at IAAS resumed the practice of liPt

H and will practice in the CottLandry and Acadia. Office on Bi•els- inear corner of Market. Opelou.

C. W. DUROY,

Attorney at 1AOPELOUBA9. LA.

O* aoni Lander? t100*us4.ags Ks~t&e