Port Royal commercial and Beaufort County Republican. [volume] (Port Royal, S.C.) 1873-1874, January 29, 1874, Image 1
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YOL. IV. NO. 17. POItT ROYAL, S. ., THURSDAY, JANUARY 29, 1874. {?iff.. YK
j , ; _
Beyond. r
Autumn is dying, winter is come, 8
Dead leaves are flying, the rivers are dumb; ^
The wind's like a knife, one's fingers grow ^
r " ; fc
There is snow on the mountains, ice in the _
pond.
Winter is with us, but spring is beyond. q
The old year is dying, its glory iB dead;
The days are all flying, their brightness has J
fled; {
Tho bushes grow bare as the berries grow red; .
Thoro is snow on the mountains, ice in the c
pond.
Tho old year is dying, tho new is beyond. R
We are all growing old, and life slips away; J
There is bare time for work, and still lees for v
play. E
Though we think wo grow wiser the longer we .
stay : j
! But there's life iu us yet, no need to do- j,
spoiid. |
This world waxes old, but there's heaven 0
ueyonu t
A MIDNIGHT MEETING.
I always did think my brother Solo
1 mon a little hard upon me, though I J*
confess that there was reason for it. ^
Mine were not exactly his ways, you
see. r
But could I help it that I was not ^
born a parson, like Solomon ? Everybody
isn't born a parson. A long while
ago, when we were boys together in ^
tight blue jackets, with gilt buttons n
and deep frilled collars, I used te try '
with all my might aud main to imitate '
Solomon, and when we were exhibited c
in society, I always echoed verbatim g
eveiy remark I heard him make, so that r
I might share his fame. But that was, ''
as I 6aid, long ago, ar.d gradually such a
close following in Solomon's steps grew
tedious, so T chose a wider way. I was f
warned a great deal against this wider l(
way, bnt somehow I lounged easily into 8
it when I found how dillicult it was to "
be always as good as Solomon.
As I said, to begin with, I always did I
think Solomon a little hard npon me. k
If I nsed language a little stronger V
^ than a Quaker's, he would maintain a f:
marked and impressive silence himself; s
if I took anything stronger than lemon- 1<
ade, he would ask meaningly for water, fi
to my intense discomfiture ; and if? o
after we had grown up, and were living (
each of us alone in his own house?I h
took part in the harmless recreations of o
the age, I would for the Dcxt few days i<
live in mortal terror of Solomon's ap* o
pearance at the gate, with his book of I
sermons under his arm, and the odor of s
outraged sanctity peivading him. His p
figure, coming through the gate, even ?
without that brown book under his s]
arm, would have been impressive \\
enough, but it never did appear so. He a
was curious in appearance, was Solo- f<
mon, being emphatically long in every
way. His legs and feet' were long ; his "
arms and hands were long; liis hair
was long ; his nose was long ; and his tl
sermons were long. His coat-tails were a
uncommonly long, too; and, indeed, I 9
think the only things that were not long h
about him were his sleeves. s
After any particular jovial evening at ii
the Squire'8 or at Jo Fleming's at Blagly b
(the .Squire bred the best fighting e
cocks in the country except Jo's, and
Jo's whisky was the primest that ever d
escaped duty), you may guess that my ti
heart didn't bound with joy at the sight d
of Solomon's long figure and long face : 1
still, on ordinary occasions, Solomon v
and I were good friends, and I looked o
forward to the day when ho should con- b
vArt mA tft hid mvn wnvs. and we should a
read the book of sermons aloud by
turns through our old age. But then I tl
knew there was plenty of time for that, a
Well, we had marked the fight of the g
season, and I had backed Jo's bird e
heavily. The affair was to come off on S
the Sunday afternoon, and for all the o
week before we were so excited (Jo and
I and our chums, aud the Squire and s^
his chums) that we spent every evening t(
together, discussing our birds and our s
bets ; not to mention the dispatching li
of a good deal of the Squire's home- v
brewed, and of my old port, and of Jo's b
Scotch. You see we didn't read so much c
in those days as you do now, and 60 u
spent more time over these lighter du- ii
ties. We didn't talk very much either
?one of Solomon's sermons divided "
among us would have lasted us all for a fi
week; but we smoked?well, pretty t
steadily. tl
The Sunday came at last, and in the si
morning I sat m the corner of Solomon's
pew, paying the greatest attention to I
him; for I wouldn't for the world he tl
should suspect where I was going in a
tho afternoon, or that I had the slight- o
l est iuterest in either Jo's bird or the tl
r Squire's. What was my horror, then,
when Solomon, in the very middle of w
his discourse (I always knew it was the t'
middle whem he began to say "lastly"), ji
alluded darkly to a " besetting siu of ci
the age," as a sport at which only Satin si
could laugh. "Aud he," concluded tl
Solomon?and I felt his eyes upon me
?"cnucKies wuu glee to see men so
degrade themselves." I broke out into
a damp lieat. Could any one have
turned traitor and told Solomon ? I
kept my eyes down upon the carpet, s
and tried to make a resolution that this o
should be my last cock-tight; but o
somehow the resolution jumbled itself h
up with speculations as to how the si
Squire would feel to-night when he was a
beaten, aud how I should feel when I h
pocketed my ?100 winnings. h
" I shall certainly buy that colt of
Jo's ; and now I think of it, I may as il
well get Solomon a now umbrella. I tl
dare say he didn't mean anything about li
cock-lighting after all. He always had a
whims for attacking our sports, and of ii
course that innocent diversion must ii
take itp turn, like bowls and billiards." n
I had forgiven Solomon by the time e
he had doffed his long gown and joined a
me in the churchyard, and I only said, o
amiably, " You were rather hard upon
. us all to-day, as usual, Sol." o
I " Was T r be questioned, in his slow g
p way. " Hard or soft, it does but little a
good, Jacob." fi
I turned the conversation gingerly. I u
could not easily prove his words to be a
untrue, and it wouldn't be polite if I v
did?so I didn't. v
" Good-bye, Sol," I said, with great t
L )
wan not what struck me with such a
chill, and made my eyes prick and my
throat grow apoplectic. I never gave
a second glance in that direction, for
theie, close to me, only on the opposite
side of the closed gate, stood my brother
Solomon. I could not have mistaken
him if there had been only the very
faintest flickler of light. There he was,
in his long coat and his high hat, with
his arms folded on the top bar of the
gate, the brown book under one of
them, as usual, and his eyes fixed
steadily on me.
"Solomon," I said, growing very
cold and uncomfortable under his gaze,
" it's getting chilly for you to be out."
He did not answer that, and so presonHr
T tvAnf. nhAArfnllv no ? " I've been
elief, when we reached the parsonage |
ate.
" Shall I see you at service this evenag
?" was Solomon's most unfortunate
nquiry, as he slowly removed his pmirella
to bis left hand, preparatory to
;iving me his right.
" I hope so, but I cannot say I am
uile sure." I answered in that way
or the purpose of breaking it to him
a gently as I could. I knew Solomon
elt this sort of thing as sharply as I
elt a razor scratch in shaving, so I pnt
t in that way, that I hoped so, but
ould not say that I was quite sure.
"I am sorry you are not sure, Jacob,"
aid he ; "I should have liked to see
on at church to-night I don't feel
ery well to-day, so will you come in
iow and stay the afternoon with me ?"
" I wish I could, Sol," said I, as
auntily as possible, "but the fact is
have promised an old friend at Luckleaton
(Luckheaton lay m the direoion
exactly opposite to Blagly) " to go
ver and Have "a quiet chat with him.
le is not able to go about much himelf."
I suppose Solomon was shaking
ands in his ordinary manner, but his
jng Augers Seemed to me to have tied
hemselves about mine to hold me
ack.
"You want a new umbrella, Sol,"
emarked I, neatly preparing the way
or the gift I had in store ; and, as I
bought, turning the conversation with
onsummate tact.
" Do I ?" asked Solomon, looking
[own upon the machine as if he had
tever seen it before in his life. "We
oth of us wanta good many new things,
aoob ; new habits, new aims, new?"
" Ah ! yes, indeed we do," sighed I,
heerfully, as I felt the grip of his An;ers
relaxing. " You're looking all
ight, I'm glad to see. Don't go and
aucy yourself ailing, Sol; it's a wornuish
trick, and not at all like you."
"No, I am not fanciful," he said,
ucking his book tenderly rnder his
3ng arm. " Good-bye, then, Jacob ; I
hall see you again some time to-night,
hall I r
Awkward, that query at the end, but
nodded yes to him just as if I had
nown?let me see?where was I ?
Tell, Solomon and I parted vejy good
riends. He looked back at me with a
mile as I waited; and afterwards I
>oked back at him?with a smile too,
or at the moment I turned, a branch
f his old pear tree caught his hat,
which he always wore on the back of
is head) and kept it; and he walked
n to the pursonage door without an
lea that his head was bare. I hurried
n cheerfully, then, feeling pretty sure
was safe. Solomon would be in bis
tudy all the afternoon; and in his pulit
most of tho evening. Then he
ould drink his cup of strong tea, and
leep the sleep of a parson till morning,
ith his l?tt:"ft window wide open, and
square of the night oky exactly beore
his eyes.
"My sleep is calm," he used to say,
1 if my last look has been on heaven."
And calm I believe it always was,
hough his bed was narrow and short,
nd he?though narrow too?was long.
iol never could be induced to spend on
imself any money which he could
pare to give away, and so he persisted
a using still the bed he had had as a
oy. As for mine, I had been glad
nough to discard it for a better.
Well, we had rare sport on that Sunay
afternoon, and our bird came off
he winner, though tho Squire's was as
lucky a little cock as ever got beaten,
'here he lay when tho tussle was over,
rith his comb up and his mouth a little
pen, as if he was only taking in
reath for a fresh attack ; yet as dead
s if he were roasted witn sturung.
Jo gave us a supper after the fight;
lien we dispatched a bottle of port
piece over settling our bets ; then we
ave our minds to pleasure, and enjoyd
a good brew of Jo's punch ; and the
quire, though he had been beaten, was
ue of the cheerfulest of us all
As it was Sunday, we determined to
eparate in good time ; so when it got
awards eleven, we set out, while Jo
tood in his lighted doorway shouting
earty good-nights after us. I had
raited to make an apjiointment with
im for the next day, that we might
onclude the bargain for the colt, so I
ras a littlo behind the others in stnrt"Take
care of yourself," called Jo ;
you have the most money and the
urthest to go. Mind the notes. Five
wenties, and I've copied the numbers
bat we may be safe. Tell the Squire
o, if he waylays yon in the dark."
This was Jo's parting joke, aud when
answered it I gave a kindly touch to
lie poeketbook in my breast-pocket;
nd the Squire, who heard us, called
nt that he dareu't try to-night, as
here was a moon behind tho clouds.
I was riding a favorite little mare
dio knew every step of the way beireen
my own stables and Jo's, so I
ist rode peaceably on in the dark, reailing
jtlie flavor of Jo's whisky, and
iuging over one of the verses of a song
lie Squire had given us:
"With five ]>ouuils your landing wages
Yon shall daintily bo fod ;
ljacon, beans, salt beef, cabb-ow.?.
Buttermilk, and barley-bread."
Suddenly the mare made a deliberate
top, and roused me from my melodius
dreaminess. Certainly at the end
f this lane a gate opened on the heath,
ut then she understood quite well that
he had only to lift and push this gate,
nd she had never before roused me
ere when I had been riding sleepily
ome from Blagly.
"Steady, my gal! Why, what is
; ?" cried I, for she was shying back in
tie lane, and behaving in every way
ke a luuatic. I gave her such a cut
s she had not felt since she was broken
l; and then, without a word of warnig,
she reared entirely upright; took
le at a disadvantage, and sent me
prawling into the ditch; then turned
nd galloped back towards Blagly witlint
me.
I was none the worse for my fall,
nly shaken a little, and astonished a
?*AAf 4*1 Art 1 on T nintp/1 nn fivat mvsfilf
nd then ray hat, and stumbled on to j
nd the heath gate. I had my hand
,pon it, when the moon came smiling
iong from nnder a cloud, and the
-hole level waste of heath was made
isible in a moment But the sight of
he heath, in all its barren ugliness,
?you remember where I said I was going
" I stopped again here. I aid
not want to confess where I had been if
he did not know, and I did not want to
tell another falsehood if he did know.
So I pnt it to him that way, intending
to be guided by his answer. It was so
long in coming that I took heart of
grace to try another tack. " Where
have you been, Sol ?"
Another pause, and then he answered,
just in his old slow way: "I've been
at home expecting you, Jacob; waiting
for you until I could wait no longer."
" I'm sorry for that," I said, feeling
a little cheerier to hear him speak. " I
would not have been so late only I had
to go round by Blagly on business. I
daresay you notice that I'm coming
from there now. I only went on business,
Sol."
He made another pause before he
answered, and though it was a trick of
Solomon's, and always had been, I felt
myself growing uncomfortably cold.
Why could he not have stayed at home,
as parsons should on Sunday nights ?
But the icy chill turned all at once to
a clammy heat when Solomon asked me
quietly, and without turning his steady
gaze from my face: "How much of
that filthy lucre have you won, Jacob ?"
" Wh?what ?" I stammered?and
then you might have knocked me down
with the very smallest of the feathers
in Jo's winning bird?" Wh?what,
Solomon ?"
He repeated the question, slowly and
steadily.
" How much of that filthy lucre have
you won, Jacob?"
" You?you have been dreaming,
Solomon."
Unlinking his long fingers, which
had been clasped together on the gate,
he stretched one hand towards me.
" Five noteB," he said, Hill with the
unmoved gaze. " Five worthless, illwon
notes."
I clasped my breast-pocket anxiously.
"I have a little money here, Sol," I
said, as airilyasl could, "a few pounds
more or less ; and I want to buy you a
new umbrella, yours is getting shabby.
I'll go into town to-morrow and choose
one."
I tried to get up a little cheerfulness
over it, but Solomon's gaze damped it
all out of me ; and, besides, he had not
taken back his long, hungry, outstretched
hand.
" Five notes," he said, again ; " five
worthless, ill-won notes, Jacob !"
" Even if I had the notes, Sol," I began,
trembling like a leaf in a storm,
" even if I had them?ha, ha ! what an
absurd idea!?what Bhould you want
with them ? And?and," I added,
clutching desperately at a straw of
courage, " what right have you to
them ?"
" There is no right in the question,"
said Solomon, and his face grew longer
and longer. " It is all wrong."
"You don't often joke, Sol," said I,
pretty bravely, though I was trembling
like any number of aspens, " but, of
course, yon're joking now, and i'ts
rather lute for a joke, isn't it ? Come
along home with me."
" I am not going your way now," he
answered.
" Shall yon be home to-night ?" I
asked, trying to finish up the scene in
my natural tones.
" To-night ? It is midnight now."
" God bless my soul, is it really ?" I
exclaimed, not so much snprised as
ridiculously flurried and nervous under
my brother's intent gaze.
Solomon had shivered as the words
passed my lips, and for the first time
he looked away.
Good-night," he said, in his slow,
absent way, and then I think he added
three other words, which he often did
add to his good-bves ; but he spoke so
low that I scarcely heard, and I felt so
angrv* with him, too, that I didn't even
try to hear.
I walked on moodily across the heath.
All the benign pleasures of the sport
had been swept away in one chill blast;
the only definite idea that possessed
me was the determination not to buy
my brother Solomon a new umbrella.
I always carried my own key, and forbade
tho*servants to sit up for me, as
you may guess I was surprised to find
my groom watching for me at the gate.
" Walking, sir?" he exclaimed, meeting
me with a hurried step and worried
face. " I hoped you'd ride home that
you might be the quicker at the parsonage.
They've sent for you twenty times
at least, sir. Mr. Solomon
"I know," I interrupted; "Mr.
Solomon is missing ; I've just met him.
I'll go and tell them so, for I'll be
bound the parish is all up in arms."
All the parish was up in arms, and
had all gathered at the parsonage, as it
seemed to me?but strangest of all?
Solomon was there too, lying on his
narrow oea opposite me upeu wiuwun,
with the sqnare of moonlit sky before
his closed eves.
They tell me something about a
swoou or some such womanish trick ;
and it may be true and it may not. At
any rate, I remember nothing after the
first few sentences they uttered. Solomon
had been ailing for some time?so
the words went?and had felt worse
than usual that day, and lonely and
restless. Still, he had insisted on
preaching in the evening, and afterwards
had toiled up to my house to see
if I was at home, and then toiled back
again. All night he had been expecting
me, and had kept listening for my
step, while he sent again and again to
see if I had returned. Just once he had
risen excitedly in bed, then his strength
had failed ; and those who were listening
heard him bid his brother goodnight,
with the whispered prayer?
"God bless you." Then he had Iain
auietlv bach, with his fading-eyes upon
tnat glimpse of heaven beyond the lattice
window, and had died quietly at
midnight.
What ? The money ? Don't ask mt
what became of the money. Over those
five notes I worried myself at last into
the most serious brain fever that ever
man came back from into life again.
They were gone. No trace could I ever
find of - my old pocket-book, though I
made it well known that the numbers
of the notes had been taken. When I
had offered ?50 reward, and that did
not bring them, I doubled it and offered
?100. Who would case to keep them
then ? Who would keep five notes which
were stopped, when they oould receive
five available ones of equal value by
only bringing the worthless old pocketbook
to me ? But no one brought it,
and then I advertised anew, offering
?150 reward for those five ?20 notes.
Of course, I tried to make out that it
was the old pocket-book I set the value
on, bnt, after ail, I didn't much care
who had the laugh against me if I oould
only set this matter straight, and give
it an air of daylight reality. But no?
that never brought them.
Another cock-fight ? No, I never saw
another cock-fight. Don't ask me any
more. It's flve-and-thirty years agolet
it rest
The Loss of the Yirginlus,
All that remains of the steamer Virginius,
of which so mnch has recently
been said and written, now rests quietly
at the bottom of the ocean. The ship
foundered in eight fathoms of water,
Dnnn T?r?nr Mnnn nffAT f.Tl A
J UOb UU V?yo J. vu??
Virginias was delivered to the United
States steamer OsBipee it was discovered
that she was in a leaky condition, and
immediately after her head had been
turned northward the pumps were set
to work, but, notwithstanding the best
efforts of the seamen, who worked manfully
night and day, the water gained
slowly in the hold. The ship was in
this condition when Lieut. Commander
David C. Woodrow was ordered to take
command of her. Shortly after that
officer came on board he concluded that
it would be impossible for the ship to
reach New York. He afterward communicated
this conviction to hie superior
officer on board the Ossipee, and
advised that the Virginius be run into
Charleston, which port he was sure
could be made. This advice was not
heeded, and the two vessels proceeded
on their course to New York. On the
evening of the 25 ult. the Virginius became
unmanageable. The water was
up to within a few inches of her boiler
tires, and gaining slowly. Her exhausted
crew then determined to abandon
her. For three days previously
they had been working with the water
up to their knees, and many of them
were so worn out as to be hardly able
to stand. Early on the morning of the
26th a boat's crew put off from the
Ossipee, and, at the risk of their lives,
gallantly rowejl through the mountainous
waves to the rescue of their shipmates.
The boat first took off the
landsmen, then the sailors, and after
all the others were in safety the officers
left the Virginius. The last boat left
1 * ? 1 A n on . .. rru? r\?
tlie fiiuKing snip at o:o\j a. .n. mc vosipee
hove to after the entire crew of
the Virginius was safely on board, and
remained in the neighborhood to see
what became of the vessel. At a little
after 4 o'clock p. m. she began to settle
down in the water. At first she went
down by the head, her forward compartments
being stove and open. Aftor
the water had reached to above the
paddle-boxes, it rushed backward into
the cabin, and, tearing out the compartment
partitions, carried the ship
down on an almost even keel. She
sunk in latitude 33 deg. 44 min. 10 sec.
north, and longitude 77 deg. 59 min.
west. The Smithville Light bore north
three-quarter west by the compass, with
the end of Nagg's Head north northeast.
When tlio ship had disappeared,
the Ossipee steamed up, and after attaching
a buoy to the tow-rope by which
the two vessels had been connected,
steamed for New York.
Origin of Gipsies*
Charles Lelaud, in his work on English
Gipsies, speaks of the race of which
they are a part as " the descendants of
a vast number of Hindoos, of the primitive
tribes of Hindoostan who were expelled
or migrated from that country
early in the fourteenth century." The
migration probably began earlier, for
there are intimations of them as far
west as Germany in 1416, and in 1127 a
troop of them, numbering a hundred,
appeared in Paris, where they gave
themselves out as Christian Gipsies expelled'
from Egypt by the Mohammedans.
No settled account of their
origin is given by the Gipsies of any
*? ?? *1.- /Vl.l W?1,1 fl,oir
CWO 1HI1UH 111 tllC V1U TT U11U) MUV v**ua?
tradition tends on the whole towards
the Egyptian origin, which the popular
notions of European nations had in
general till of late assigned to them. Yet
that the Rom or Romni are to be identified
with the Dom or Domni castes of
Hindoos, allied to the Nats, the real
Gipsies of India at the present day?
the letters D and R being hardly distinguishable
in Gipsy mouths?is not
only attested by the name they give
themselves, but borne out by proofs
without limit from the study of their
speech and of their characteristic customs
or habitR.
The Difference.
George Eliot, the lady novelist, one
of the keenest observers of men and
things, makes note of ono essential difference
between men who take pride
in their trade and those who are indifferent,
and expresses her thonghts
through one of the characters in Adam
Bede : " I can't abide to Bee men throw
away their tools i' that way the minute
the clock begins to strike, as if they
I *mir n? iiiontum i" their work, and was
afraid o' doin' a stroke too mncli. I
hate to see a man's arms drop down as
if he was shot before the clock's fairly
struck, as if he'd never a bit o' pride
and delight in's work. The very grindstone
'11 go on turning a bit after you
loose it,"
Land of the Midnight San,
Paul Da Chailia, the noted traveler,
says: There is a beautiful country far
away towards the icy north. It is a
glorious land, with snowy, bold and
magnificent mountains; deep, narrow
and delightful valleys ; bleak plateaux
and slopes; wild ravines ; clear and
picturdsqne lakes ; immense forests of
white birch and fir trees; gigantic and
superb glaciers, unrivaled in size by
any in Europe. It is ot this country I
come to tell you. The rivers of this
country in their hurried flights from
the heights above to the valleys below,
tumble down as if from heaven in gigantic
waterfalls and cascades, so beautiful,
so lovely, so white and chaste, so
matchless in their beauty, that the beholder
never tires of looking upon
them. I have told you of the leading
features of the country, topographically
considered ; let me now say a few
words about the people, their mode of
livincr. their code of moralitv. I have
been an extensive traveler, but never in
all my experience have I met with snob
an honest and simple class of people as
the inhabitants of Norway, Sweden and
Lapland. Their faith in human nature
is something incredible, and their honesty
exceeds all bounds. Often have I
left my money behind mo in a farmhouse,
and as often have I been followed
on the road by my late host with
the treasure I forgot in his domioile.
They scorn to take any reward for doing
what they consider their duty, and
as often as I have offered them rewards
they have been rejected. They are a
very religious people and a very democratic
people. Of their religious simplicity,
volumes oould be written. They
are for the most part, in fact all, Protestants
or Lutherans. They bury their
dead in graveyards around the churches,
and if a man dies 200 mileB away, his
body must be brought to the graveyard
aud interred. A stranger can tell the
condition of almost any ladv he meets.
Those that are engaged to be married
have one plain gold ring; those who
are married wear two, and those who
have a family wear three. When a
man's wife dies in this northern clime,
the husband and his friends have a
three days' jollification. About their
democratic ideas I cannot give you a
better notion than by mentioning the
fact that I sought on interview with the
King, and was accorded the same. Before
I was five minutes in the royal
presence, I was asked to smoke a cigar,
and at separating was asked to call
again, which I dia. When I returned,
I had to look for the King myself,
there being no guards or servants
around the house. I found him putting
on his coat upstairs, having just
put the finishing touch on one of his
pictures. A few words about the midnight
sun. I witnessed this grand phe
r\Yi Dana Vnv! 1,
LIUU1UJJU1I HliilC ObUUUlUg vuv?|'V4iv*vu)
the moat northern extremity of Europe.
The sun, instead of setting as it does
here, and running a course from east to
west, keeps going around in a oircle,
the lower periphery of which is just on
the horizon. When it makes the lower
curves it is partially ebscured, but it
rises again and describes circles in the
air for nearly two and a half months.
It then goes away, but total darkness
does not ensue, for the moon, the stars
and the northern lights illumine the
land.
The Desperation or Despair.
Many of our readers, says the New
York Evening Pout, may remember the
little piece of verse in which n company
of British officers in the Indian service
are represented as getting together, during
an unusually violent epidemic of
cholera, and singing a song, the chorus
of which, as we remember it, ran thus:
" Here's a health to the dead already,
And a health to the next to die."
An incident is reported to have occurred
in Memphis, which indicates the
existence in that city of a similar disposition
to make a jest of death. A
man, somo^ days ill with the yellow
fever, perceived one day that the disease
had taken a fatal turn. Remarking that
he was going to die, and that he was
determined to die happy, he thereupon
drank a large quantity of brandy, and
died in the middle of the fit of drunkenness
which was thus produced.
However horrible such a scene may
be, it must be confessed that it is not
unnatural. Few men are able to maintain
an indifferent bearing when they
are forced to keep still and watch the
constant and irresistible approach of
death. One may face the danger of a
desperate charge on a battle-field with
comparative calmness, because there is
something to do. But to lie still and
wait for death to make an end of one
requires a philosophical courage such
as few men possess. The poor man who
got drunk in order "to die happy" was
probably too frightened to be fully responsible
for what he did; but his conduct
shows under what a tremendous
strain human life is maintained in those
districts of country where the yellow
fever has been raging for the last few
weeks.
A "Bear-Boy."
An Indian bear-boy has been on exhibition
in San Francisco, and the
papers have discovered that the monstrosity
is a case of cruelty. The bearboy
is a born idiot, and that is about
all there is unnatural about him. His
points of resemblance to a bear have
t A-3 1 I 1
I Deen Stimuiaiea OJ uarunruuo uruemjr.
j His keeper's story is that his mother
j was frightened by a bear before his
! birth. This could scarcely have broken
! his ankles and cut the tendons behind,
1 so that the feet bend beneath the legs,
their upper portion touching the shins
and rendering it impossible for their
owner to stand upright. The inference
is that the Indian boy has been cut and
slashed and hewed into a rude imitation
of an animal going on all-fours. His
idiocy aided the transformation, and
renders him valuable as a show. The
matter was brought before the courts
through the efforts of a humanitarian,
and the boy was sent to the alms-house.
- A 4
Bright Side People.
The propensity to make the best of
things is generally found in combina- ?
tion with those smaller virtues whioh
are more annoying to one's neighbors *
than most vices. The man who rises at t
five every morning, who always ties up
his letters with red tape, and who is fa
convinoed of the great truth that it is ^
better to be half an hour too early than ?
half a minute too late, is frequently
given to making the best of things, j
The duty of doing so is a moral maxim i
just big enough for him to understand. e
He probably reflects upon it in the early a
morning at the time when the cold bath
is bringing out that glow, physical and fa
morul, which makes him an offence to il
all weaker vessels during the rest of h
the day. e
The ruddy, jovial person who gets
himself up after the oountry-gentleman 0
type, or the more unctious variety of r
popular preacher, is apt to be perspiring e
this doctrine at every pore. It is a k
pleasure to him to meet somebody in
distress*upon whom he may discharge 0
boisterous comiort through nis favorite e
aphorism, as a fire-engine sends oold v
water through a hose. If he acquires _
some dim consciousness of the fact that K
his kind exhortations sound like a bitter ~
mockery to his victims, it only increases *
his sense of virtue. They cannot com- p
fort themselves under the loss of a wife !'
by the reflection that they still have *!
several first cousins and money enough 1
to pay for a handsome monument. That
only proves that they have not studied o
so well as he the great art of properly ii
directing their sentiments. For of b
course ho will deny in the most pathetic P
manner that he would ever advise any- t<
thing like self-deceit. He does not 1
avowedly ask a sufferer to profess that a
toothache is rather a pleasant distrac- fa
tion than otherwise; he only recom- "
mends him to fix his attention upon his h
great toe or some other remote part of v
lis body which may appear to be enjoy- li
ing good health. e
And, in fact, there are some people t.1
so enviably constituted that a small n
pleasant object elevates them more than
a great unpleasant object depresses fl
them. They are people, so to speak, of f
small specific gravity, who cannot be I
submerged without a heavy burden of p
melancholy. The person who makes n
the best of things professes to be of s
this temperament. It is not, he would n
have yon believe, that he does not sym- i:
patbize with grief, but that his constitutional
buoyancy makes svmpathy f
with him compatible with exhilaration ; ii
he does not deny the existence of evils, t
but the smallest grain of good makes v
him happy, ju6t as half a gluss of wino 0
makes some men drunk. There are, we t
say, such people as these?meu, if wo fc
may coin a word, easily iutoxicable. q
But we are iuclined, as a rule, to a vehement
suspicion in both cases. Tho _
man who is upset by the first glass has V
generally had a number of glasses be- v
fore, and the man who makes the best j
of things is generally helped to bo se- fl
rene either by the absence of strong 8
feeling or by the want of courage to 0
look at the worst. v
The Famine In Bengal.
The latest reports from Bengal are
anything but encouraging. The famine
seems inevitable. The recent failure t
of crops involves the subsistence of t
some thirty millions of people. "In i
some villages of Dinagepore," says a >
correspondent of the London Times, 1
" the people are eating jungle produce |
and the pith of the plantain tree, while fl
they give a sort of tamarind stew to \
their children." v
The Bishop of Calcutta has prepared J
a form of prayer to be used in the *
Christian churches, and the " Santana J
Dharma Rakshani Sabha," or Society
for the Defence of Eternal Religion?
H i J- i.1 J |,?a Tbo.IO.1
Uim IS, UriUUUUA luuiabij nun iuuu\^\t
the following formula:
" I. 0 Almighty Supreme Vishnu ! t
Thou art the Preserver in this world ; fl
save, therefore, Bengal and other places j
from the impending dearth.
" II. 0 God ! we, thy devoted people, v
humbly pray that thou wouldst rescue ^
us always from future grain scarcity. ^
"III. O Asylum of Mercy! pour H
down thy bounteous showers of kind- j,
ness, and cause the world to be supplied
with a plentiful harvest.
"IV. In this kali-j/uga (age of vice), ^
we human beings live upon grain ; so ^
save our lives by that food, and spread H'
abroad thy Divine glory over the nniverse.
.
" V. O Lord ! Governor ! Then art t
the sole protector of the helpless;
kindly pardon our sins, and, hearing j
our solicitations, bestow ui>on us thy
universal benediction.
" VI. And also prolong the life of the j,
sovereign, who is our ruler, for the
prosperity of the subjects entirely de- j
pends upon the monarch's weal."
v
Death from Hydrophobia. t
A famous Western trotting horse, a
Ripon Boy, lately died from hydro- "
phobia. The first suspicion that any- c
thing was the matter with the horse was c
?i- mnnm took liim to water. c
WUCil VUV 5&VVU. ? He
drank sparingly, and at each attempt ^
to drink thereafter would tremble in E
every limb. The horse allowed his
keeper to approach, but exhibited great
vice when he attempted to touch him.
He supposed that the horse might have 8
been poisoned by eating sumac with a
the hay. After watching the symptoms r
of the animal for a few moments, his t
owner pronounced them those of hy- *
drophobia. Water was several times c
offered the horse, but when he under- p
took to drink he was seized with spasms, t
followed by extreme viciousness. The a
doctor says the actions of the horse 1
were terrible to behold. He would rnb c
his head against the stall so forcibly as \
to knock out his upper teeth, and finally a
fracture his jaw. Finding that the life 1
of the horse oonld not be saved, Mr. i
Van Brunt ordered the stall to be c
boarded up so as to prevent him from 1
doing any mischief, when death ended a
his misery. I
< [ -
Facts ana roneies.
Brahminism is professed by 110,000,00
of human souls.
Hens won't work in Nevada withdut
ufficient inducement, and henoe tray-'
lers hare to pay a dollar and a half for
wo eggs ont there.
Mrs. Lucy Tenney was murdered in
er bed, in Grafton, Maine, by her hasand,
Moses Tenney, a blind pauper,
ightv years of age, who is now under
rrest.
There is a young man in Saginaw,
fioh., who was stolen and taken among
he Indians when an infant, and lately
scaped after twenty-six years of haygo
life. *
The Howard Association of Memphis JE
as struck a balance sheet, and finds
tself the possessor of $35,000, whioh it
as deoided to hold in reserye for future
mergencies.
If you want to make a good boy bad*
r a bad boy worse, nag, snub, ana
ough him. Don't speak gently to the
rring child' if you would have him
:eep on erring.
A British railway company has deided
to giye its signal men $5 each for
very three months that they work
rithout having any oharge of neglienoe
proved against them.
* 1m m RhAlhnrno.
JX UUl X CO|/UliUVU ? AAVM M? 9
r. S.f writes that Captain Clarenoe
[elly, of that place, recently shot a
irge gray eagle that had steel traps atiched
to each foot, one of which had
hree feet of ohain attached.
California has abont 8,000,000 head
f sheep. The wool crop in two sheartigs,
at an average of ten pounds per
ead, would amount to 60,000,000
ounds, or 15,000,000 more than the
ital product of the United btates in
871.
" I would rather," said a promindht
Tew York merchant in our hearing,
1 give a five-figure credit to a young
ouse having fifty thousand dollarr
rorth of cash and fifty thousand dolira'
worth of brains, than to an old
stablished concern with a hundred
housand cosh and no brains for busiess."
A lad in Worcester, Mass., has been
ined 85 and costs, amounting to $14.50,
or stealing a copy of a daily newspaper
rom the door of a subscriber. In
assing sentence, the Judge said it was
ot the mere market value of the goods
tolen that called for severe punishlent,
but the great aunoyanoe attendog
such petty pilfering.
Carbonite is a new article of fuel
ound only in the James River, Va. It
9 a substitnte for cannel coal, and costs
wo-thirds as muoh, burns freely, but
rithout smoko, sulphur or bituminous
dor, and so nearly consumes itself that
?ut2j per cent, of ashes is left. It
lurns longer than anthracite or cannel,
ud affords a beautiful and pure flame.
" I found it very inconvenient, and a
Teat loss of time," says Chateaubriand,
' to dine before seven o'olock. My
rife wanted to'dine at five o'clock, and
usisted upon that hour. After many
rgumenta and many heated discusions,
we finally compromised upon six
'clock?an hour verv inconvenient to
is both. This is what they call dtr
aestio concessions."
Innocently Executed.
One of the most notable executions
hat ever occurred in Kentucky, says
he Louisville Journal, was the hang
~ trr.-ii: r> V.V. ..4
ng 01 captain \ruu?u jr. Jtiug auu
Lbrahnm Owens, at Franklin, in Jane,
867. King was the leader of a gang of
liieves who stopped several trains on
he Louisville and Nashville Railroad
ind robbed the passengers, and Owens
ras a member of King's gang. The two
Fere convicted of murdering Harvey
ting, a half-witted brother of Captain
ting, and it was asserted that the muxler
was committed through fear that
ho half-witted brother would expose
he robbers.
The day on which the hanging took
tlaco was intensely hot, and the crowd
n front of the gallows, suffering under
he blazing sun, grew impatient at the
eemingly interminable speeches of the
loomed men, who again and again reterated
their innocence, and called
tpon Ood to witness the truth of what
hey said. The Sheriff was at length
orccd to admonish them, and they
topped and made ready to die. The
toay of King twitched horribly after
teing swung off, and he appeared to
lio hard. Owens struggled some, but
lid not suffer so much as his companon.
Everybody familiar with the trial
eemed to feel almost certain that the
aen were guilty, but their almost franic
assertions of innoconce did not fail
o make an impression.
Some time ago a man by the name of
ivans was lynched in Kansas, and a retort
of the lynching in one of the Kanas
papers alleged that before his death
ie made a confession, in which he said
ie had once committed a murder in
tentucky, for whioh two men had been
tanged. It is now'said that the Evans
rho was lynched in Kansas was one of
he principal witnesses against King
,nd Owens, and that they are the perons
referred to by him in his confesion.
Should these statements turn
>ut to be true, they will be likely to
ause unpleasant feelings in Simpson %
J~ T* ho hnnp/1 thftt this
mblication may lead to an investigaion
that will give ua trustworthy inforaation.
Shoe Tour Horses.
At this season of the year every horse
hould be shod. A great many horses
re ruined every winter by the carelessness
of owners. Slipping around on
he ice will soon render a horse totally
worthless. It is the meanest kind of
iruelty as well as a criminal extravagance
to work a smooth horse in winer.
There is no excuse for this neglect,
tnd a man who will not see that his
torse is properly shod ought to be
tompelled to go with bare feet in mid"
* ? * -11 1 1- J.
nnter. xne norse, 01 iui mnmin, uoerves
the kindest treatment at the
lands of man, and there is something
udically wrong about the head or heart
>f a man who neglects or abuses his
torse. The practice of letting a hone
itand in a snow-storm, without a
>lanket, is cruel in the extreme.
: