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vat tv ata in PORT ROYAL, S. C? THURSDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1873. T VU. JL V XIV. XV. 0 Long Ago. h Two rosea bloomed upon a tree; ^ Their wnite leaves touched with every away- e, lug. bent to gather one, while ebe h Plucked off the other, gently aayiDg, a: ' When things do grow and cling like this, t< And Death almost appeareth loath gi To take but one, 'twere greater bliss I To both for Death to smite them both." . Lost Love! Dead Love! They come and go ^ 1 The summers with their snn and flowers, Their song of birds. I onlyJsnow There is a blight upon the hours. c No sun is like the once bright sun That shone upon that golden weather, e: In which she said those flowers were on$, t< And Death should spare or smite together. ri . d JTIE RIVAL CLAIMANTS. ? * Who Mr. Wilsen was, whence lie * came, and what had been his antece[ dents, were points on which the good 0 (people of Pokebury remained as unen- n lightened after he had dwelt ten years t< among them, as they were at his first j? coming. r His health had been for some time d failing, and one day I was sent to write s' his will. The instractions he gave me were very brief. He wished bis entire _ estate to be vested in trustees, the an- n nual income to be deveted to certain n specified charities; bnt in case his n brother,, of whom he had lost sight for n many years, proved to be alive and ]j should be discovered, the above be- b quest was to become thenceforward null, and the entire property to go to ^ the brother. c] "This brother?have you any clew that may lead to his discovery ?" I C( asked. ii " None," he answered; " and I greatly fear, for certain reasons, that even if C( he be living he will never, voluntarily, make himself known." C " Few people purposely keep out of h the way of good fortune,"I remarked. a Ho made no answer, but seemed to S( be reflecting deeply. "I wish to confide a secret to you," w he paid, at length. " May I clo so safely?" " " A lawyer's oath, I answered, " for- ti bids him to betray his client. Yon may speak with freedom and safety." . n " My words may place my brother's tl life in your hands," he said; "yet it li may 6till be possible to clear np a hor- r< rible suspicion which, for years, has haunted me. I have read of so many ti cases in which it came out that men were innocent whose guilt seemed prov- f< ed to demonstration that I blame myself for not sooner seeking aid in the a] solution of a dreadful mystery, instead of helplessly brooding over it." cl He paused, as if 6till hesitating to ni disclose his secret. The indecision, w however, was but momentary. "My brother Charles and myself," he resumed, " were brought up in a 6j distant city by a wealthy uncle, of d whom I was the favorite. el " Charles was younger than I, by h some years. He was a light-hearted, affectionate boy, a little wild and ex- h travagant, but not vicious?just the per- a| son, on the whole, not to meet the ap- o] probation of our strict old uncle. 44 When the latter made his will, he y< left the bulk of his fortune to me, appointing me also trustee of the very p; moderate provision made for my y< brother. 44 Charles expressed no displeasure at t; this. Be placed too little value on p; money, I thought, or had too much con- a fidence in my generosity to care which of us our uncle 1< ft his wealth to. it 44 Not long after the will was made, r< retnrning home *ne night, I found the front door unlocked. I paid but little ai attention to tho circumstance, at- gj tributiug it to the carelessness of the tc servant. " Oa reaching my room, I discovered w that I had not with me u valuable book m which I had started with from a public library to which I was a subscriber. I w had stopped to visit a friend on the way, Cc and conjectured that I migfht have left the volume at his room. I determined ai to act on the surmise, and return to my sc friend's at once. m " As I passed out of the door, I met pj Charles coming in. I do not know if I spoke to him in my haste. I found the btok where I supposed it was, and hud tc nearly reached my uncle's door agnin, di when I saw it open and mv brother ? rush out excitedly, and walk rupidly away. pi " I met the housekeeper in the hall- p] way. She seemed to be paralyzed with fear. H " 'I'm afraid something terrible has m happened,' she said, recovering her n< voice with an effort. 9 In What is the matter?' I asked. in "'Ob, sir,' she answered, 'Mr. Charles ran out of his nucle's room just in now, looking like a ghost, and having tli a bloody knife in his hnnd. He passed me without speaking, and hurried ni from the house before I could say a m word !' " I went at once to my uncle's apart- al ment. A ghastly spectacle met my ?t sight ! My uncle lav lifeless in his d< blood ! The gas was burning brightly, fr and every detail of the horrid scene was uj appallingly distinct. cc " My uncle had beeu stabbed through the heart. IIis secretary stood open, 01 rti'.l lift woo cfrnnrti wiiVi nonCTQ /ir " Like a flash of lightning the ques- h< t-ion presented itself, ' Can my brother Ci have committed this deed ?' His flight, it the housekeeper's statement, his possible resentment at our uncle's will? fn all seemed to point to one conclusion, u] much as I strove to close my mind rc against it. ei " I called for help. Tlie housekeeper m and servants came in answer to the m alarm. The former fell fainting at the fr sickening sight, nr.d had to be carried te to her room, where, fortunately, she re- ol mained for a season in a condition which li prevented her from relating what she si had seen. t " The anthoritieH were untitled and tc an inquest heltl; but nothing affording rc a clew to the murderer was elicited. I in v, is the only witness examined. What w the housekeeper could reveal, was fi known only to myself and her. She o< ad been Charles' nurse, and was deoted to bim, and it needed only a bint iat speaking might put bim in peril, ETectnally to close her mouth. "I was questioned only as to what I ad seen after entering the house, and nswered fully and truly. If in failing > tell what I was not asked about?the aspicious circumstances under which had seen my brother leave the house -I trifled with my oath, I can only beg tie forgiveness of Heaven. What the ousekeeper had told me of course was earsay, and inadmissible at secondand. " The coroner never thought of ailing her. " I gave our friends some plausible zplanation of Charles' absence, hoping 9 myself, from day to day, he might sturn and relieve my mied from its istracting doubts; but through all lie long years that have since followed, e has never, to my knowledge, been een or heard of. . ... . 1 - #?j? " 1 leei tuat were neiouuu auu piwou n trial, should all the evidence oome ut, any jury would oonviU him. For lyself, I have fought, night aud day, a drive away the torturing suspicion, ut it will not leave me. I left my naive city and came hither, fearing, if I emaine'd, I should not long be able to ivert attentiou from my brother's trange absence. "I have now told you all. To-mornw I will put in your hands a 6um ufficient to defray whatever expense it lay be necessary to incur in restoring le, if possible, my brother freed from listrust." Mr. Wilsou's startling narrative left ie little hope of being able to gratify is wishes. The proefs against his rother seemed unanswerable; aud lere was slight reason to expect that a ir.n in hiding for bucIi a crime would oluntarilv expose himself to the liances of detection. I prepared Mr. Wilson's will in aojrdance with his wishes, and he placed 1 my hands the money ho had promled. He died, however, before any disDveries were made. T now advertised cautiously for harles Wilson, mentioning the fact of is brother's death, and stating that by )mmunicating with pie he might learn imething to his advantage. I was seated in my office one day, hen a stranger entered. VI? *1 99 "l am unarms wusou, un duiu, and have come to answer to your noce. I looked at him narrowly. There was o great resemblance between him and ie late Mr. Wilsoti; yet the want of keness was not sufficient, of itself, to ?nder their relationship improbable. " What proof have you of your identy ?" I inquired. " I can mention all the family names, >r one thing," he answered. "A little preparation might enable ay one to do that," I replied. " I have a ring given me by my uu!e," he said, a little reluctantly. "His smc is in it. It was a parting present hen I left home." " Let me see it," I requested, ne took from his pocket and undone a nail parcel. It contained an elegant iamond ring. The gem was costly nnd legantly set. The uume was there as e had stated. " By the way," I added, turningupon im quickly, " are you not a little fraid to present yourself as a claimant F your brother s fortune ?" "Why ?" he asked, with evident nerousness. "Did it ever occur to you," I exlained, "that you might be accused of our uncle's murder?" " My uncle's murder!" he exclaimed, irniug pale and trembling. " What roof is there to found such a charge pon ?" " Enough to hang you, I fear, should ever be brought forward," was my ply. And determined to push him home, id find what explanation he had to ive, I went over all my late client had >ld me. The effect on him was singular. He as evidentlv reassured by the state lent. " Of course yon are not at liberty to so to my prejudice information thus wtiood to you," he remarked. "Myclient employed me to serve, id not to injure his brother," I anrered. "Hislast wish was that he iglit bo freed from this black susicion." " That wish shall bo fulfilled," he lid. "I think I can yet find a clue ?the real culprit, and, in a few more ?V8, satisfy you of my innocence as | ell as identity." He took his ring and went away, I romising to return as soon as he could roduce his proofs. Next day another stranger appeared. ,'e, too, introduced himself as the longissing Charles Wilson, and the like?ss between him and the man of whom 3 claimed to be the brother was strikig in the extreme. " I have not come about the fortune," 3 said, " but to learn what I may of 10 last years of mv brother's life." He wept when I related the dead an's story as I had to the other?wept irgled tears of joy and grief. " Would that my poor brother were ive," he cried, "that 1 might at last and as clear in his sight as he this day ' Tf woo +??turn GiiQnipinn Jrc aii luiur t ?i v naft iwuiu om him that I fled on that terrible ight, ami have ever since remained mcealed. " As lie told yon, I met him hurrying it as I entered the door. Having ocision to visit my uncle's room, I was irror-stricken at the sight of his irpse stretched upon the floor. Near lay a bloody knife, which I recognized i belonging to my brother. A dreadil thought flashed upon me. I picked p1; he knife, and was running from the >om to conceal it, when the housekeep met me. I knew she would believe e guilty. In justifying myself I ight implicate my brother. I fled om the house and never returned, de(rmiued to save my brother at the cost reputation,. and, should need be, of fe itself. If suspicion fell on either.it lonld be on me. The 6tory was simply and toucbiDgly >ld. I had no doubt of its truth, anil 'quested the stranger to hold himself i readiness till I required his presence, hich I should in e short time do. 1 irtker cautioned him to keep his own j iunsel< I After the lapse of some days the first cla mant returned, accompanied by an ill-looking man of aged appearance. " I Lave found out the real murder- D er," he said; " but, unfortunately, heis J beyond the reach of justice." " His name ?"' I asked. " Richard White," ho answered. " What proof have you ?" ^ " This," pointing to his companion, v " is the man with whom White pawned j my uncle's watch shortly after the mur- ( der. The pawnbroker has kept it ever since, and has it with him now." 8 " Yesh, here it isb," said the gentle- c man referred to, producing the watch. 1 "Misther Fhite shpouted him mit me r for foofzy dollar. I can shwear to dat. Und my frent, Sharley Vilson?I can 8 shwear to him, too?know't him from a c poy." t I stepped out, and sent a messenger t 4lm nf Kor nloimnnf 1 la a few minutes be entered the a office- At the sight of him the first- * comer started to his feet and sprang to- t ward the door. It was plain that he c recognized the real Charles Wilson, and t saw tkafc his own game was up. A couple of officers intercepted his c Sight. The pawnbroker was fain to ? make his pence by confessing that the t counterfeit Charles Wilson had placed 1 the watch in his hands, and instructed t him what stoiy to tell. t Both the watch and the ring were c identified as the property of the mur- e dered man, other circumstances coming i to light, tqe ciiminnl was, in due time, 1 tried and executed, first making a full * confession of his guilt.?Ledger. s 6 Adventures of a Burglar. A man tried to burglarize the house r of Mr. Smith, residing in the neighbor- * hood of the railroad track, but was sue- t cessfnlly foiled in the attempt. It f seems that the fellow forced an entrance 1 through the back kitchen aoor by prying oft' the hasp, about 11:30 o'clock, * soon after the occupants of the house j had retired. The burglar, after getting c into the kitchen, commenced walking J around the room. Mr. Smith, who fi had not yet gone to sleep, heard the t fellow, but kept quiet. In a few mo- c ments more the burglar entered the 1 hall which leads directly to the sleep- I ing apartment. About this time Smith 1 had gotten out of bed, and, arming * himself with a bootjack and one of his heavy boots, awaited the approach of the other. It was as dark as tar, and as soon as the man came within striking r distance he let fly at him with his boot- . jack, hitting him over the head. The fellow beat' a hosty ratreat, but not fast I enough to escape the heavy boot, which I wus thrown after him. When he got 1 iuto the kitchen he didn't know which way to tnru, as he had closed the door when he camu in. Before he knew f where he was he had fallen over the 1 stove, knocking half a dozen tea kettles t and pots off with him. This created ^ such a terrible din that Smith thought four or five burglars were in his kitch- 1 en, and was afraid to follow. Lucky I for the other that he did, for he had ] become so demoralized by the fall that r he wasn't worth a cent for fighting. 1 Getting on his feet again, he 6truck f for the door wildly, and this time came r in contact with a rocking chair, and he i fell head over heels into a tub of water. \ His splashing and floundering around c in the tub of water terrified Smith more e thun ever, and he began to think his i house was possessed of devils. The f man at last found the door, and jumped < down the steps ; lie ran across the yard t like lightning, and thfetimerushed into a j small hen coop, which he knocked 1 over, and killed several of the small hens. What happened to him after this no one knows. Suffice it, he has not shown himself around those parts since.? Valltjo {Cat.) Independence. The Old Woman of Shamokin. Some few miles from Shamokin, Pa. enjs the Episcopal Register, lives a character that those manly people, the " woman's rights women," should certainly know, as she is decidedly the champion. The singular being is some seventy-two years of age, and is altogether the most manly woman I ever met with. A tenant-at-will, she has oc- j; cupii d for many years the farm she cultivates with her own hands and the assistance of hired laborers. She owns about forty-two head of cattle, some of which I saw, and are really fine stock. c She lives alone in her log cnbin, her t only companions being two shepherd H dogs and her chickens, many of the lutter sleeping under the same roof with her, she calling them her children, and * training them up in the way they should fl go, so us to cause the least inconveni- c ence to her in their habit of life. She _ is utterly fearless, and with her dogs and gun, which she can use with un- * erring aim, Lize Schnler is a character c that few would care to trifle with, t Imagine, if you can, a woman of me- t dium size, d.essed in men's clothes, n with a soft hat variously indented upon t her head, no coat, barefooted, and you have this champion of " woman's i rights" before you. Wrinkled though t her face is by the storms and trials of c many years, the strength and activity I oi lliis man-woman 01 Bevt-uvj-i?u i? Bomewliat wonderful. Volublo is bard- i ly the term suitable for the expression f of her powers of talk, and few men, c however disposed for such perfection, I may boast themselves superior to her on t the 6core of profanity. Much and varied s has been my travel, and strange sights t and objects have I 6een and met with, * but the Hermit of Shamokin, with her o supernatural powers of tongue and limb, t far surpasses anything of my previous fi experience. c Gen*. Bctler in New Orleans.?In i the case in which William A. Button t sought to recover from Gen. B. F. But- 1 ler the value of two drafts for $15,000, i seized by Gen. Butler at New Orleans x on the ground that the drafts were fc property, contraband of war on aoconnt i of an attempt to smuggle them through t the Union lines, Judge Woodruff gave i a decision for Gen Butler, holding that i the General was justified in making the f seizure, 1 Executed by Beheading. A correspondent gives the following ccount of an execution at Yeddo in span: The culprits were eight in number, ine being a woman. Thej were all beleaded with a sword. The operation ras performed with wonderful dexterty and coolness, and not one of them, iven the woman, showed the slightest ymptoms of fear. There was a space if ground roped off; inside were three loles dug in the ground, with a little uound behind each, on which was pread a mat for the criminal to kneel in. On one side of the inclosuro were wo Japanese officials, in obairs, to see be thing properly conducted. I had n >lace directly in front of the mounds, at ibout six feet distance. The criminals eere placed in a row, on one side of he inclosure, blindfolded with pieces f paper (they use paper for everything here). What struck me most was the horrid oolness of the executioner's assistant, i good-looking lad of about 18; he went ip to each poor wretch in his turn,gave iim a tap on the shoulder, led him up o the mound, and made him kneel on he m*t; he llien stripped His stiomlers, made him stretch oat his neck, i&id " That will do," and ima flash the nan's head was in the hole in front of lim, and his bleeding neck was, as it vere, staring me in the face. The nslistunt, still with the same pleasant mile, picked the head up, threw some vater over the face to wash off the mud ind blood, and presented ittothe Japaiese officials, who nodded and signed 0 go on with the next The assistant hen gave the corpse a blow between he shoulders to expel the blood, and Inally threw the carcass aside like a og of wood. N He repeated the same pleasant programme with the next. I never thought 1 man's head conld come off so easily; t was like chopping cabbages, only aciompanied with a peculiar and most torrid sound?that of cutting meat, in act. There was a dense crowd of Japinese present, including many women, ind even children; these people never .'eased to eat, smoke, and chatter the vhole time, making remarks on the >erformance, and even occasionally anghing, just as if they were at a heatre. A Strange Discovery. The arrest of a number of poor coal>ickers in Kansas City, recently, has esulted in the discovery of a once very jopnlar actress, who long ago drove the day-going public of London wild over ler beauty and power of delineation, l rni I road watchman caught a bright yed little girl of thirteen years filling ler basket with coals from the cars of he Missonri Pacific Itailroad. When he child was brought before the auhorities, Mrs. Caroline Whittlesey, nore familiarly known as "Brighton Pearl," of the Drnry Lane Theatre, ap>eared in her behalf, and her calm and ady-like manner, and pale, careworn ace, were all the eloquence required to elease the little girl from the watchnan's grasp. This man, to test the Foman's words as to her poverty and lestitution, visited her rude, unplaster:d hovel in the bottoms near the raiload track. A clean but humble bed, a ew chairs, a table, a number of relics >f the stage, such as play-bills, permits, &c., uud a sewing machine, comjrised all her earthly possessions. Mrs. iVhittlesey, it appears, went to Kansas Uity about five years ago, and has lived here since the death of her hnsband >y her own exertions as a seamstress. Yhen she left the stage Bhe did so exacting to become the wife of Lord Denbigh, with whom she went, as his rife, to Geneva and thence to Florence, rhere they lived in retirement several nonths. On his death her claims as lis wife were set aside, and having leither money nor frieadB she came to his country to seek a livelihood. Since he death of her husband, whem she narried in Kansas, she had gradually lecome reduced in circumstances, and low found herself compelled to send ler child to gather coals to assist in king out the scanty support won by her leedle. The Hoosac Tunnel. The work of the Hoosac Tunnel was ommenccd as far back as 1850. After hat it was abandoned and recommenced ome three or four times within a period if twenty years until in December, 869, a contract for completing it within ive years was undertaken by the present ontractors. Since then tho work has ;one forward without interruption. The ime required to complete the work, inliuling the laying of the permanent rack, will be about seven months from lie 1st of December next, and the tunlei will probably be open for traffic by he 4th Of July next. The total length of the Hooaac tunnel s four miles and three-quarters'. It is wenty-four feet wide, that being suffiient for a double liue of rails, and its leight is twenty-six feet. Compared rith the Mont Cenis Tunnel, after which t takes rank in point of length (the crmer is about seven miles loDg), the iondttions attending the work of the loosac made it a much more difficult tndertaking. The exigencies of the ituation required that the work should >e carried out by means of shafts, of rhich there are two?the west shaft,' ,bout half a mile from the western peral, and 318 feet deep, and the central nail, wmcu is suna iu wie lowest jmrt >f the mountain between the two ends, o the depth of 1,030 feet. The pumpng of the latter alone, to allow of the unnel being driven east and west, in'olved an expenditure of $300,000. It s estimated that the Hoosao tunnel, Then completed, will have cost the state of Massachusetts some$12.000,000, nclnding interest and sums vested in msucoessfnl attempts to carry on the vork under State management. By shorn the tunnel is to be worked is still in open question, to be settled by the Legislature of the State. .A Whole Day to Do Nothing. " If I only couli have a whole day to do nothing?bo work, and no lessons, only play all day?I should be happy," said little Bessie. "To-day shall be yours," said her mother. " You may play as much as you please ; and I will not give you any work, no matter how much you may want it" Bessie laughed at the idea of wishing for work, and ran out to play. She was swinging on the gate when the children passed to school; and they euvied her for having no lessons. When they were gone, she climbed up into the cherry tree, and picked a lapful for pies; but when she carried them in, her- mother said,? " That is work, Bessie. Don't yon remember you cried yesterday because I wished you to pick cherries for the pudding ? You may take them away. No work to-day, you know." And the little girl went awav rather out of humor. She get her doll, and played with it awhile, but was soon tired. She tried all her toys; but they didu't seem to please her any better. She came back and watched her mother, who was shelling peas. iUBJ' 11 t ? licip JUU, luvtuv* asked. " No, Bessie ; this isn't play." Bessie went into the garden again, an^ leaned over the fence, watching the dncks and geese in the pond. Soon she heard her mother setting the table for dinner. Bessie was qnite cheerful during the meal; but when it was over and her father away, she said wearily,? "Mother, yor. don't know how tired I am of doing nothing. If you would only let me wind your cotton, or put your work-box in order, or even sew at that tiresome patchwork, I would be so glad 1" "I can't, little daughter, because I said I would not give you. any work today. Bnt you may find some for yourself, if you can." So Bessie hunted up a pile of old stockings, and began to mend them; for she could darn very neatly. Her face grew brighter; and she presently said,? " Mother, why do people get tired of play ?" " Because God did not mean us to be idle. His command iB, ' Six dnvs shalt thou labor.' He has given all of us work to do, and has made us so that unless we do just the very work that he gives us we can't be happy." He has very hard work who has nothing to do. A Turkish Princess. M.Betham Edwards visited a Turkish princess,whom sho describes as follows: " Sho was tall and slender and very haudsome, with a pearly skin, delicately cut featnres, and black hair and eyes. Her dress was simply perfect, ample, Sowing, easy, of 6oft, noiseless, lus1 -.-It- il.n Mwnnioa lma nf wiiipll it irUUH BXJJlj bUO piouiao uuv v? ? would be impossible to describe; it was something between an asphodelblossom und the palest pink coral, and yet neither the one nor the other ap Eronched it at all nearly. Around her ead wan wound a little turbun of delicately colored gauze, fastened over the foreherd with a jewel. Now, I am sorrj to confess that this graceful and imposing creature was such an inveterate smoker that it seemed the sole business of two or threo of her slave-girls t< supply her wants. Dnring the two hours that we were honored with her presence one of these automaton-like figures would come in about every seven or eight minutes, unsnmmoned, and hand each of the ladies a cigarette. Anything more like machinery could not be conceived. There was no salutation on the part of the servant, no acknowledgment on the part of the mistress. The cigarettes came and went, and thai was all." Suicide of Mne Chinese Girls. A recent China newspaper publishes the following account of an incident which is reported to have taken pluct ntWhampoa: "Nine young girls, living with different families in the village, seem to have entertained an aver sion to married life. (Seeing the misen and toil to which the members of th* families with whom they lived were sub jected, and above all the slave-like obedience of wives to the wills of their husbands, the damsels in question came to the resolution of putting an end to their earthlv careers, which is here carried intoeffect by a different modus operandi to that of opium-poisoning in vogue in Hong KoDg. Tbo nine duinsels met b> appointment on the banks of the river, at the entrance of one of the creeks ii the vicinity of ' Brown's Folly,' attired in heavy winter garments, which thej had sewn all together in order to prevent a separation. While thus united in body, heart, and mind, the damsels plnnged into the deep. As this happened close to the time of the festival of the seven female genii, who descended from heaven and are culled the 'seven sisters,' all sorts of superstitious conclusions are drawn from it." Wisdom for the Crisis, by Bill Arp. Munny to be heltby must be skattered around so that everybody can git sum. When it's most all piled up in a feu pyramids the least jostle will tumble ii to the ground. If I was King I'd fix n remedy for bloated fortunes mity quick. I'd tax a man nuthin on an iucum of 5 thousan dollars and under. I'd tax 10 per ct. on all between 5 and lOthouRan; twenty per ct. on all between 10 and 20 thousan, and so on, doublin up to 50 thousan. Above that I'd take it all, every dollar. I tell yon that will get em. That will Keep aown inese wan street riogs. It will let a man have enuff for all decent and respectable purposes, and after that he must do bitaheer for them who awet and toil and havent been as smart or ng mean or a* lucky as himself. It will put a limit upon a man's avarice and keep munnj in better employment than paying $50,000 for a hnrse or 100 tbousan for a diamond pin. Real Backwoods Humor. Ancedote* ot (lit "Htwbncki<" Edward Egglestou iu a sketch of backwoods humor gives us the follow- { ing: i I have been not a little interested in t studying the humor of the " Hoosier" ( ?that is, the rough back-country class j who are laughed at by all the rest. Tou | laugh at the hawbuck, but the hawbuck j bas somebody in his imagination green- f er and lower than he is, and it gratifies { bis vanity to tell stories of blunders , which he would have scorned to moke. { I have found, in conversation with the { rudest people, that they always told me ^ jokes of ruder people. There is no fun ' in these stories, or not much to culti- i vated people, but they are at least curi- < ? lllnrlralinn ilia otmrnctjir of 1 U Ul DO llJuouamug ???W ..... these people who tell them and laugh 1 at them by the wide open fire-places of 1 their log cabins. Will yon hear some < of them: 1 There were once two young men who ' had never been away from home, who 1 went to town on an errand of some sort. I They conspired together and bought 1 | two and a half cents' worth of ginger- < bread. As they walked along the streets i .stuffing it into their mouths, ono of > them nudged the other and said: I " Laws, Sam! if marm knowed we wuz 1 a takin' seen a splurge would'n she gin J us goss ?" There's not much humor in 1 this truly, as I tell it; but told bv a I boy, who, poor as he is, never takes ' change below a " fip"?five cents?and 1 who laughs all over when he tells it, I | have found it quite amusing. Here is one like unto it: Two young ' men from "iDjeanny,"strolling through ' Cincinnati, come to the sign "City 1 Hotel." One of them spells it thus: ' "C-i-t, Kit, y, Kitty, H-n-t, Hot, Kitty < Hot, e-1, Kitty Hottel. Thunder, Bill! ] that air mus' be the same Kitty Hottel ' is used to keep tavern in Injinop'Jis. ' This story never fails to bring a laugh. I Sometimes the hero of the story is an 1 Irishman, sometimes a negro. Gencr- 1 illy, the Irishman figures as snpreme 1 fool, while the negro often shows a : good deal of wit. " More rain more 1 rest," cried a negro one day as it began to rain. " I said more rain, more chuck- ' in' corn in debarn, sah." Then this of < an Irishman: He had just arrived in 1 this country, and was crossing a stream 1 on a foot-log. Seeing a bear come the ' other way he took him to be a negro, i and bade him good morning. The bear ' raised up, and, after the manner of 1 bears, clasped the Irishman to his 1 bosom. The Irishman, supposing this < to be a sign of affection, hugs the bear ' in turn. But finding that the " nager " > squeezed unconscionably hard, he affec- > cionately remonstrated with him. When 1 it got to be u matter of life and death, 1 he pulled out his knife and said: "An' ( if yo don't let go I'll hev to kill yon1 which he proceeded to do. The bcai 1 rolled into the water, and the Irishman, 1 meeting a man soon after, informed < him thut he had killed a "nager," upon which they returned and found the car- j uass of the bear. Iu some of the stories the negro opp-*ars as the "inferior being." In vVestern parlance a watch is called a 1 tunip. It is a joke that has grown intt> slang. One of the stories which I heard on City Creek was this: A white man met a negro with a watch chain hanging out, and asked: " What time is it by four turnip?" "Laws, massa," answered the ingenious darkey, "how did vou know 'twi s a turnip?" Behold Bryan O'Lynn with a black face. Some of the exaggerations of the Western people show the extravagance to which their humor tends. A man vlio is a fool is said not to have " the sense tho law allows." The law used to exempt 8150 from execution. A man >vbe had less than this was in a state of xtreme bankruptcy. A man who threatens an enemy always proposes to "lick him till his hide won't hold shucks." A bog which will not hold :or? husks is, of course, a sorry affair. V. stingy man is "as tight as the bark on i beech tree." " He squeezes a quarter 'ill the eagle hollers." When n man shoots another, he" siliviates him." Vnd when a man is in great danger, hry say : "Saltpetre won't save him." [ do not know what this means, unless it is an nllusion to the preservation of neat by saltpetre. I huve often heard i Westerner threaten another man that ne would " tan his hide for him," and I have heard an angry woman call out to her hopeful boy "I'll warm your jacket it) tor you, my Bon : Paris Firemen. The fire brigade in Paris, including >ne Colonel and forty-nine officers, 'lumbers 1,500 men, distributed in eleven barracks, and sixty postca dr. garde. The total annual expenses for the maintenance of this force and its accessories s one and a half million francs, defrayed by the mnr.ieipaljty. The privates and non-commissioned officers' nay varies per class from 550 francs to 1,200 francs per annum ; the children >f the regiment receive eleven sous per lay, with bread, and an increase of one ou daily every year, commencing from heir eighth year. This early service renders tho firemen of Pans veritable Leotards, as they have to practice gymlastic exercises daily, and the value ef uch training is evident to the visitor vho has seen the small, wiry, indiarubber-muscled firemen of Paris at vork. It is said that an American gunn.i'11 sail tvlipppver the croand is noist; the firemen in question climb anything upright, like cats of monkeys. Prrrrxo in Small-Pox.?Dr. I. H. Bird uses an ointment made of charcoal ind lard to prevent pitting in small-pox. This is applied freely over the surface of the face, neck, aud hands, as soon .is the disease is distinguished, and continued until symptoms of suppurative fever have cease^. The application allays the itching, seems to shorten the luration of the complaint, and leaves the patient without a blemish; the arqption protected'by the ointment not even showing signs of pustulatien. The charcoal prevents the action of light, and lard that of air. A Terrible Plague. Ctqilmtni Bay Depopulated by an Unknown D lee ate. Invaloke Inlet, or Esquimaux Bay, on he Atlantic coast of Labrador, has been itteily depopulated by a scourge, in nany of its phases similar to Asiatic sholera. More Esquimaux inhabit this iay than any part of the peninsula, here haying been previous to the viaiation about 450 of them at Invaloke ind vicinity. At this bay there is a lizely dwelling erected by the Moravian nissionaries who landed on that frozen ind barren shore in 1852. They became ;he doctors, physical and spiritual, of he lazy people they had come to teach, rhe missionary house was freely turned nto a hospital, and the fathers attend* id to the sufferings of those mjsteriousy stricken in their midst. Their dueling soon became a house of-death, and ;welve of them, who had field almost :easeless vigil over the dying, ell, even 10 meir iuat muu, m u?riess, victims of the plague. On the L5th of October a dense fog overspread :he coast of Labrador. Thongh intense frost had been experienced on the 13th ind 14th ultimo, this fog brought with t an unaccountable warmth and dampness. There was no kain, yet the rigging of the brigantine Ann (the vessel which brought the intelligence to St. P'^rel was dripping, and the decks were slippery. It was impossible to see the bowsprit from the poop, and the huts and people on shore were lost to light in the impenetrable fog. On the morning of the 16th ultimo, the morning which succeeded that phenomenon, more than sixty men, women, and children, principally Esquimaux, were prostrated with a disease, the nature of which the most skillful of the missionmes could not define. A vomiting of yellowish fluid, accompanied by acute pains in the stomach and contraction of the muscles, were the first symptoms. The patient was suddenly prostrated, and the groaning and writhing of many persons struck down by the disease in the same part of the harbor were heartrending, principally so in view of the mystcriousne8s of their disorder. On the afternoon of the 18th of October the Ann put into Invaloke Inlet again. To use the exact words written by one on board that vessel, " the aspect of that plague-stricken settlement will never grow less terrible in the memories of all thos? who beheld it and still live." Women were fleeing with their children and little bundles containing provisions and clothes. In every hat there were several dead, and others dying. Home yelled for help* and others moaned piteoasly, unable to move a limb. The captain sent in a cask of brandy to the house of the missionaries, and, in grateful recognition of the offering, they raised a flag on the pole in front of their house. Later they sent word to the captain not to come ashore, or permit any of his men, as already many of their people had fallen victims to the plagae. The messenger stated that a schooner from the United States lay inside the harbor, and the captain, chief mate, and nearly all her crew had been prostrated by the disease. Before night on the 18th ult. tho news reached the Aun that Bix of the missionaries lay dead ; that on the instant after death all the corpses of those carried off became of a bluish-black hue, and that decomposition had set in. The captain of the American vessel (the Henry F. BoltoD, of Gloucester, Mass.) and four of his crew died at night. The next morning the captain of the Ann ordered a signal to be raised for a messenger to boaid them. There was no one to answer the signal. The men of the Ann who volunteered to go on shore were given plenty of ram. At the missionaries' house tdey louna an aged Esquimaux alone and sobbing. He spoke very little English, but the sailors could understand that the last of the fathers had died, that all his people had been cut off. by the awful plagne, only the few who fled escaping. The stench in every direction was putrid and sickening. ' The sailors with desperate recklessness entered several of the huts in which there was not a living person left to tell the tale 1 In one instance they found the corpse of a white man in a kneeling attitude with the hands and head resting on a bed, and a paper off pepper beside him an the floor. Finding his end near, he must have fallen on his knees to prepare for the other world. The corpso of women were found stretched in all parts of the huts, and the feet and arms of dead men and women in many cases protruded ont the open doors of the lints. A peculiar feature of this lamentable scene was the forlorn appearance of scores of trained Esquimaux dogs who lounged about in utter bewilderment. Many of these auimals cluug to the doors of their dead friends, and hunger sometimes evoked a plaintive whine from the masterless brutes. The opfinivl 1x7 overcame the picnoitc DVVUVM MM... , men and they were compelled to quit the shore. Captain Richardson, of the Ann, conld do no more, and the vessel set sail from the dismal bay on the morning of the 19t,h ultimo. ' On the 21st ol October, John Casey, one of the men who had volunteered to' go ashore at Invaloke, died after only a few hours' sickness. His body was launched overboard and the forecastle was dashed with spirits, the nnlv disinfectaut on board. On the 25th the lookout^ighted the coast of Miqnelon. Before landing, Captain Richardson and the second mate were taken ill. The official doctor of the harbor of Miqnelon (French) came on board and pronounced the captain's malady a virulent fever. Later the captain was attacked by a severe vomiting and cramps. The doctor then pronounced it Asiatic cholera. Between 9 and halfpast 9 on the night of the 25th nit., the captain and mate of the brigantine Ann were dead, ahd the physician, Dr. Bouvier, was oonfounded. He bade the Bnrvivors to leave the ship itnme- ' diately, and had her thoroughly fnmi gated. Up to cue mummy ut mn ?u*u _ ,. . nit., no other oases had developed. On that date the mate and crew ot the Ann sailed for bydney, Gape Breton, on board the British brig Taurus.