The tribune. (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, December 16, 1874, Image 1
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THE TRIBUNE.
.fcfiUUvrfJ ~ ; ;* j
r~ ' 1 - ' '
VOL. I.?NO, 4. BEAUFORT, S. C., DECEMBER 16, 1874. $2.00 PER ANNUM.
Pf\ .j ? . I , i - * - N ' * . p ^
??????. A ' A
What the Chimney Sang.
Over the chimney tho niglit-wind sang
And charted a molody no one knew ;
And the woman stopped, us tier babe eke
tossed,
And thought of the one eke had long since
- lo3t> ,
And said, as her tear-drops. back eke forced,
\ "I hate the wind in the chimney."
Over the chimney tho night-wind saug
And chatflfcd itmelbdy no ono know ;
And the children said, as they closer drow,
" 'Tin some witch that iB cleaving the hlaok
night through?
Tie a fairy trumpet that joet then blew,
And wo fear the wind in tho chimney."
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one know ;
And the man, as he sat on hiB haartli below,
8aid to himself, "It will surely snow.
And fuel is dear, and wages low,
And I'll stop the leak in the chimney."
Over the cliimDey the night-wind Bang
A n/1 nli anln/1 a vnAl/wIn ?? l.~?? -
Bat the poet lintenod nod smiled. for be
mfi rihI womaa and ehfld?all three,
'If ad said, '* It ia Go<|)u own harmony,
K This wind wo beer in the cbimney."
? ?Bret Rartc.
? _ .11 - . J Li
THE SrORI OP OLO BILES.
" Take'that chicken out of your hat,"
was the expr6BBion uttered iu a shrill,
boyish treble, that fell uprtn my ear ;
and a ragged, dazed-looking old mau,
in a very seedy suit, and a dilapidated
stovepipe hat, surrounded by a crowd
of viciouB-lookiug, rowdy boys of all
ages,was the spectacle that met my eyes,
as 1 turned the oornerone day recently,
I was about to pass on- without giving
the affair any attention, when something
familiar abont the old man's
3 Z WfiUli dtfuiA^fi'J'hbord of
memofy. * *
I stopped and.drove off the crowd
who were persecuting him, while he
looked still more imbecile and woebegone
at tho unexpected succor than
jtfi I' WtVUtf*jy r " Evidently feeling
th?xi?Aa|fS soo^aiWord of thanks
and <ekpnaiwiai, l^fcltered out, "I
ain't got no more chioken in my hat
than you has, air, and* them young uus
knows it; but they has just got so into
the habit of persecuting poor Old Biles,
that they can't sort of help it, it seems
like, j&n jou, sir, for
your Rindneef ; ana, replacing the
battered hat, which he had removed
both as an act of courtesy and to verify
his wordn, he shuffled off down the hill.
I grasped my cigar tighter between my
teeth, and swung my pane in that ever
lasting whirling fashion which has become
second nature to me,'with more
. ; An Moaj wehemwce, mil went on
toward ray daily vooatiouj-for ill that
jnonieirtmy flash or tnefcdVy there had
opened to* my inner sight a glimpse
down tho vista of the past, in which a
young love, a broken heart and green
grave, were prominent objects.
I had known the man whose identity
was lost id the miserable appellation
of " Old Biles," in dayB which were to
his present position as is the noon
sunshine to the midnight storm?when
he bore an honest name, and lived a
peaceful life.
Years ago, when I was but a stripping,
I first, knew him among the green
hills of Mary land,;where he was a plain,
unassuming, but well-to-do farmer,
then in the prime of life?one of that
class of meu once so common in the
Middle States, who, without education
or culture, and depending solely npon
native shrewdness, move through the
world calmly and prosper after their
own fashion. Biles had quite a little
farm npon the eastern shore of the
Chesapeake Bay, and owned an interest
in the little schooner which convoyed
his garden products to market. He
.. !iL -V -i "? v
not) a muvNCI WILLI UUO CU11U, WUO WU8
his idol. .
Originully named Dorothea, after her
mother,a feminine freak had changed it
to the prettier and more euphonious
Dora; and who at the age of sixteen
was one of tlio fairest of Maryland's
fair daughters. Her faoe was that of
pure oval, form rarely seen. Eyes of
limpid liquid bine. Hair of that tndepcribabiu
shade which morenearly re.
feetoUes snnehiiie in &?*,*olds than
aught ?fce4o^liieh illtnfii compared.
A form petite, yet perlect in its rounded
beauty; and a voice mnsioal as the
laughter of birds. Ah, me I even at
' this distance of time?in spite of the
gray threads that are thickening aronnd
my temples, and the farroWs* that gather
in my brow?my heart beats faster
and the blood circles through my veins
, more raDidly as IJook with the lingering
glance of memory upon Dora as
she was in the days of my youth.
It was a hard trial for Biles when he
realized the necessity for sending his
. T
f mniclroflMieA mon sense,
and knew that V> ?^rry ont the golden
dreams of Dork's fntnre in which he
reveled, aha mast be educated ; and
he plaoed her in the aoa<|dmy ?f Dr.
Tilton in the city of Baltimore, where
she soon, by her beauty and quick wit.
won the hearts of her teachers and
oompMuoip.
Dora had remained ' at school for a
year, and her father had made monthly
trips on his schooner to visit her, when
the iirst heavy blow of his life oarfni
upon him. In the innooenoe and simplicity
of his sonl he had nevor thought
of his awkward ways and ignorant
speech as being anything ont of the
war. What he lacked in knowledge or
xelinement was to be more than compensated
for by Dora's accomplishments
and beauty. To him the opportunity
of seeing her in her loveliness,
surrounded by admirers and friends,
granted him on oooasional visits to the
school reoeptionB and sooial parties,
was the one glimpse of brightness that
lighted up his life. It had never occurred
to him that his daughter could
be ashamed of hie uncouth ways, or annoyed
by his rough yet simple manners.
Yet Dora, in protesting against
his presence at a Ohristms.b festival of
more thad Ordinary style and promise,
deliberately told hitn that she did not
want him io oome?tha* lie mortified
her, and that if ho wanted to do her
real| service he would go baok to the
farm and stay there.
T .t/. .11 1 1;? ? '
Ijljiao mi iucu wuuou perceptive iacuities
are slow, Biles, when bo did comprehend
anything, realized it to its
fullest extent; and now for the first
time his eyes were opened to the
hideous fact that in advancing and
beautifying his idol he had destroyed
its original purity, and that between
him and his daughter there had been
plaoed an impassable gulf. The base
thought that Dora was ashamed of him
rankled in his breast until he was well
nigh mad over it. Determined to stop
the evil current that was bearing her
love away from him* the foolish man
did everything of al^others calculated,
to increase its force. removing her
from school and conveying her, against
her will, and in spite of her remonstrances,
back to the fann house, whose
rough comfort was to her eyes repulsive
in contrast with houses of frieuds
she had made in city, he succeeded
in damming up for a time the stream of
willfulness and waywardnese which had
been rapidly developed in her character
by h?|.opposition to Jier will. But it
only added foroe ana impetus to its
wild outburst when she broke the
bounds and swept" away in one angry
flood all there was of-love, of happiness
and of honor in that humble home.
One night there was a long and bitter
quarrel between father and child.
Hard, cruel words were said, and harsh
threats made. The next morning Dora
had left the farm, leaving word only
with the faithful old nurse, who had
been nurse, friend and second mother
to her, that heuoeforth she would
travel her nun notli in Ufa /.u
... - ? V ? - .? ?V I'HOIA *M ?? M W? ?lLllO UiU
man was like one stunned when he fully
realized the situation, but he accepted
it and bowed his head in sorrow.
Dora returned to Baltimore, and for
a few weeks visited around among her
former schoolmates without exciting
any remark or suspioion, until her
strange talks . and singular actions
awoke inquiry, and the train was developed.
She then began to realize the
fief thai while she was the welcome
gUSot so long" as she* came in the capacity
of a visitor from her father's
house, yet, as tl\a voluntary refugee
from its shelter, once hospitable doors
were closed againht her.
It was in this emergency that Dora'B
true character developed itself, revealing
the fact that under the form of an
angel there had laid dormant a heart
of stone. Acting upon the advice of
friends to whom he had confided his
troubles, the old man had plaoed in the
hands of the commission merchants
who attended to his business a sum of
money sufficient for her support, and
she was notified of the fact. Without
the least hesitation or embarassment
she accepted it, and would present
herself regularly once a week at their
counting-houBe to receive her allowance.
At these times, instead of existing
any feeling either of respect or
gratitude for the broken hearted old
man, upon whose money she was subsisting,
she would chatter gayly with
the clerks and exercise the fascination
of her wondrous beauty upon the susW
11. - -u 1 1- -1 ?
ucpviuio ucmi ui mo uiu uuuueior
bookkeeper until he could hardly write
a receipt for her. to sign. Once she
only met her father on the occasion of
one of these visits, and as the old man
stepped forward With tearful eyes and
extended hands, ready, willing, anxious
to forgive and forget, she swept past
him with a scornful anger flushing her
cheek and passed on alone. Her position
in society was a peculiar one.
The means which sho possessed
through Biles' bounty enabled her to
live at a boarding-house kept by a decayed
gentlewoman, the pressure of
whose poverty had darkened her eyesight
and deadened her hearing as to
what went on under her roof, so long
as people kept up the outer semblanoe
of respectability. So Dora went when
she pleased and with whom she pleased,
and the character of her male associates
may be readily imagined by any
one who bas ever observed the style of
men who flock around a woman when
she is young, handsome and careless.
Her life was one round of gayety.
Theaters, balls, picnios and excursions
Altai* fvita Sieasum of her time. Of
vyfo co|nf4u?on8 $lp>had a host; well
dke&sed men, with J)6ckets filled with
jingling coin, yet who were never met
in the parlors of staid citizens, were
always to be found esoorting her in her
round of pleasure. Young men of the
"first familiesy" inclined to be fast;'
spoke her name trippingly at their
clubs, but kept judioious silence in the
tyreseaoe of their sisters.
In short, Doraoamefat last to oooupy
that position in society whisk is a sad
-epe,for % woman, when unspoken suspicions
set a wall of fire between her
and the pure of her own sex. Meanwhile
Ola BilesTfcrew visibly older ; the
^native'energy * n iSir had built and kept
him up was gradually giving way : but
still the farm wan productive and his
agents faithful, so that even the sometimes
blessed boon of poverty, whioh
would have at least given him the
1 necessity of temporary oblivion of his
woe in the struggle for daily bread, was
denied him. I; used to meet hi|g in
those days as he would walk through
I ~
the streets, with the bo( tinning of that
dazed look coming on b is face which 1
noticed the other marning. Things
went along in this way for some timo,
until the morning of a day made evei
memorable, in the City of Monuments,
by a Bad disaster which plunged all its
inhabitants into a sea of grief. On the
1th of July, 185-, the day opened
bravely, flags floated, cannon roared,
and Christ's church bells laid aside
their dignity and merrily ohimed on!
" Yankee Doodle." A grand picnic
excursion had been arranged at Rider'f
Grove on the Susquehanna railroad, a
few miles from the city, and thonsande
of gayly dressed people filled the va
rions trains going to and from the
grove.
After the festivities of the day had
ended, the pleasure seekers ' were hll
gathered into a long train of cars and
with merry voices and joyous hearts
were speeding rapidly homeward, when
: t L ? ? A* AT V
iu uu momuii ui muu vueio was a crasu,
a chorus of wild shrieks, then an instant
of silence succeeded by the groane
of despair from a mutilated host of
victims. Two trains had collided. The
difference of a minute in two watches,
the lapse of a single instant of watchfulness
on the part of an engineer, and
three score of mangled corpses, and
three times three score of wounded men
and women lay crushed in the debria
of the shattered trains.
It was midnight 'when the relief train
which had been sent out to the spot
started for the oifcv, and among the
dead laid out in the baggage car lay the
form of Dora crashed out of all semblance
of beauty. Charity draws the
mantle of forgetfulnesB over the sins
of the dead, yet it iB neither uncharitable
nor unkind to say that it was better
for 'Dora that' she passed away
thus, than that she should have lived
to travel to its bitter and inevitable end
the road in whioh she had set her wayward
feet.
The eifeot of the disaster upon old
Biles was terrible. He blamed himself
and vented curses on the day he ~wae
born ; he raved ontil exhausted nature
gave way in him. and then settled 4QV&
into that, semi-idiotic condition of mind
so painfnl to see in one whom we have
known in brighter times. His sole occupation
now was the adornment and
beautifying of the grave of Dora, in the
shady oenter of Greex^ount cemetery ;
and on any afternoon 'she poor old mac
could be found seated by its side. His
friends, seeing that unless sopie change
nnnln Ka offonfo/1 i?? V?*a
WW vuv* WW vuwvhvm UA1U UO TTUU1U DUUU
sink into hopeless imbecility, succeeded
in persuading him to sell his farm and
try the effects of an entire change of
place"and scene. It cost him a terrible
struggle to make np his mind to leave
the one green spot on earth to him?
the grave of his child, but he had yet
strength of mind remaining to see that
unless he made some effort he would
sink hppelesaly into despair.
And so, with man y a pang, he turned
his back upon his home. But the
young, vigorous manhood, instead of
inspiring him with energy and life, was
too much for his grasp, and the money
he brought with him was soon rapidly
meiting away in unwise operations, in
which ne was made the dupe of unscrupulous
or visionary speculators. The
poor old man's helpless state, and some
little inkling of his unhappy history
which had gained currency through letters
from home among the Baltimoreans
here-, awoke a feeling of sympathy
for him, and a kindly merchant managed
to rsvcne, before it was all gone,
a Sufficient sum to'yield-, in the way of
interest, a little stipend amounting to-a
i few dollars a week, just sufficient to
keep bodjr and sonl together, which is
nUW paid to him at stated intervals.
During.the existence of the Monumental
Fde: Company, principally composed
of farmer residents of Baltimore,
Old Biles was always welcome to the
engine honse.
He would stand by the old engine,
whose panels were deoorated with views
of the City of Monuments, and caress
its sides with loving touch, as though
it were a connecting link binding him
to the green earth where lay buried his
broken heart in the grave of his child.
For hours he would sit on the wooden
I ench outside the door, gazing into
vacancy, and an occasional look of
shadowy happiness would pass over his
countenance, as though a passing augel
had stopped in pity to lav the hand of
sympathy upon nis frosted hair.
I nad entirely lost sight of him for
some years, until my meeting with him
as above related the other morning,
and as his life story flashed through
my brain, my quicker footsteps hod
overtaken and passed Old Biles with
tho same old sad look in liis face, and
his bent, decrepit, aimless walk, passing
along among the busy throng of
men with the air of one in a ^ream.
The New Yfrt Constitution.
/ The question of th* validity of the
tW.ocniBlitptionaf amendments of the
State of New Yore, having been raised
upon the elaim that they were somewhat
changed in the second Legislature
that passed them, the New York
Expreaa, the editor of whieh was a
member of the Constitutional Convention,
says npon examination it is found
that every amendment snbmitted is an
independent one, and is in the precise
form in which it purported to come
from both Legislatures, with the exception
of the second amendment to artiole
7 (being the amendments referring
to the Black river canal). The amendments
rejected by the Legislature of
1874 form no part of the amendments
submitted.
The new army biy of France increases
the army to 930,000 men.
| A SENATOR IAL STORY.
i l How 7.ach Chandler Got Even witliltoi'
! coe Colliding In the Urnutaiinui^
i Zaoh Chandler, of Michigau, loves to
> boast of his strength, a correspondent
[ writes. Upon this partioulor occasion
, he nused liis arm over the table.
? " See ipy musclo," said lie ; "I oan
i lick any man of my siee anywhere, if I
; am an old man ; that is becanse I am
i seionced in the business. But I won't
t lick a man unless he is a gentleman."
i Chandler's great hobby is his skill as
. a pugilist. Roscoe Conkling, of New
> York, is also a great boxer. Ho has a
private gymnasium in his residence at
[ Washington, where after dinner he in[
vitcn snob of his friends as are gymnasi
tically inclined for a friendly little boat
i with the gloves. Conkling is a very
^ good amatenr boxer, and as he is a veiy
, large, powerful man, he generally has it
. his o\*n way with the gnests who are
i bold enough to put the gloves on with
' him. For some time it was" an open
i dispute between Chandler and Conkling
win oh was the better boxer of the two.
. j Chandler would, after every dinner
[ party of which he was a member, c&lm[
ly assert that he could lick any man of
L his weight in the United States. One
day law winter Chandler dined with
Oonkling, and the latter inveigled the
great war Senator into the private gymi
naaiurn. The gloves were donned, and
i the two champions began to make
, graceful Senatorial passes toward one
. another. The bont, however, was of
I very short deration. Chandler sudi
deufy jreoeived a blow between the eyes
. whioh -caused his hngo form to go over
backward; his trusty legs failed him,
and then he skt down so hard that tears
came out of his eyes. It took four men
t to get the war Senator upon his legB,
. bat h? threw up the sponge at onoe,
without any further effort to punish
I* Conklihg. The only remark he was
heard to make was, 44 strange," and
i 4 4 I'll fix him yet." j.
i Conjtling and Chandler were much
l together in a social way, and it was not1
L long alter the above occurrence when
> Chandler received another invitation to
> comer up to his house and spread his
k legs ijuider Conkling's social board,
i Chandler sent back word that he re;
grottod very much Jiis iuability to be
present, but he had a guest at his
house, a valued constituent from Michigan,
-and he could not leave him.
Conkling sent back word, 44 Bring your
friend along." With this form of invitation
Chandler consented to come up.
He brought his friend with him, and
introduoed him as Mr. Howard, of Detroit,
Miehigau. Howard was a sadeyed
man of diffident manners, wlio
oontented himself with paying a very
olose attention to the themes of the bill
of fare rather than to join in the general
conversation of the dinner table.
flATilrUnr* tttoa in crroof /??? ?*#>< tl.?
nwo *** 51VJU UUUU^ bliU
dinner. He told over and over agaiu
he etory of Chandler's discomfiture as
a boxer, and never seamed to tire of
asking him what ho thought about his
ability to lick any man in the United
States. Chandler took all these remarks
in an absent-minded way, as if,
suddenly, he had become lifted above
any such petty ambition of considering
himself a fine athlete. After dinner
Conkling led his guests into the gymnasium
for a general smoke and chat.
" Come," said he pleasantly to
Chandler, "don't you want another
bout with the glovbs ?" and then Conkling
laughed again as he put on a pair
of gloves.
"No, I don't want to box," said
Chandler; " but perhaps my friend
hero would consent to amuse you."
Taming to Mr. Howard, Chandler remarked,
" You box, do you not ?"
Mr. Howard still looked sad-eyed
1 and absent-minded. He aid cnceknow
something about it, but it was such a
long time ago.
" Como, come," said Conkling, " let
us have a friendly bout. I won't hurt
you."
Evidently the great New York Senator
was pining to knock some one down.
'I'll6 sad-eyed Mr. Howard, evidently
flattered at the prcspcet of being
knttoked down by bo distinguished a
man, began slowly to put on a pair of
gloves. As he was drawing on the
gloves Chandler was obeerved to walk
down a little to the background. A oontented
look was on his face.
The sad-eyed man now came forward,
and the round began. Conkling
was for proceeding at once to knoek his
opponent down, and he would have
done so had he not found great difficulty
in getting anywhere near the sadeyed
man. The affair culminated by
the sad-eyed man's suddenly rushing
forward and landing a thunderbolt of a
fist between Conkling's eyes. .The
Senator went over like a big tree, and
rolled into the corner of the room,
where he lay for a moment stunned by
the oonousHion. He was heard to say
afterward that he thought ? house had
fallen on him.
Conkling had enongh of boxing for
'once. Chandler made several pleasant
little remarks about the skill of his
friend Conkling, which were not received
in the most ohoerfnl -wn-r
Judge of Gonkling's feelings the next
day when he learned that Chandler had
played a joke npon him by giving Mr.
Howard 8100 to come np and bounce
Mr. Conkling. The Mr. Howard, of
Detroit, Michigan, was none other than
Jem Maee.
v
The Fronch government has decreed
that army officers must not marry
unless. the bride has a dowry of 25,000
francs. Heretofore the limit has been
10,000 francs. .
A TRIBE OF THEM.
The Mulberry heller* of Soc!ety--A True
Picture*
Of th? tribe of Sellers, says tlio Tribune,
tbere are many families, bnt the
two great divisions are, perhaps/the
honest and the dishonest. The honest
Mulberry keeps himself, as well as
every one around him, in perpetual
poverty. He is "always on the point of
making a fortune too hugb for the use
of one man,"colonel though he be, and
he announces his intention of sharing
it with you ; as a preliminary step he
induces you to indorse his note or to
lend him the little store you had laid
up against a rainy day, and shoots it
into the hopper of his enterprise. You
are ruined, and liis eye still beams upon
you with disinterested affection and
unabated hope. He believes every
word he says. His sincerity is coextensive
with his imagination,' and the
more gigantic his oastieB in the air the
more profound his conviotiou that he
i8 tlie owner of them all in fee-simple.
The honest Mulberry went into oil, and
was ruined ; went into sbooks, and was
ruined again ; went into real estate,
and came out poorer than before; went
into railroad bonds, and emerged a
bankrupt, though no one oould see
what there was left bo go to smash.
And every time he oomes up smiling,
with the light of a new " corner" or
" strike " sparkling in his eye. He is
a genuine Mioawber flowered on American
soil, but a greater than Mioawber,
for ho is invincible. He is too American
for despair ; he steps up promptly
to each new round with fate?and gets
thrown every time.
The dishonest Mulberry is a less
pleasing fellow. He makes a preoariohs
and disreputable living by thq. expenditure
of ingenuity and industry
whioh honestly exerted would make
him a millionaire?if his name was '
anything but Sollers. His schemes are
no less stupendous than those of the
more scrupulous Mulberry, but they
are all aimed at the appropriation of
somebody else's money or thoughts or
labor. He is a civilized robber, and. is 1
invariably captured. He plots a railroad
swindle, and the reporters pry it
out with their pencils ; he worms himself
into the confidence of defrauded
bondholders, and is speedily discharged
; he publishes a poem, aud
next day sees the original and his
plagiarism printed in parallel columns;
he secretly infringes upon a patent, Mid
is at once served with papers in a suit
for damages ; he commits a forgery,
and is detected by the first oashier he 1
approaches. The onrse of ill-lnck
| withers every speech and action of hi6
> life, and yet ho goes on to the end of i
[ his days the same undaunted, rascally
Mulberry Sellers.
At Washington, Mulberry Sellers is
I ubiquitous and influential. TTa linn
held a eooro of seats in every Congress
within the memory of man, whilo in the
lobby he iB always in a majority. Mulberry,
the lobbyist, lives a gilded, hollow
sort of life, dining sumptuously 1
during the session and starving during !
the recess. His bill fails of passage
for want of three minutes' timo on the
morning of the fourth of March, and
is knocked on the head by the blow of
the Speaker's mallet which declares the
Congress ended ; or his project is referred
to a committee whose chairman, i
he finds to his disgust, iB virtuous. He i
inaugurates Pacific railroads and lays I
the foundations for vast fortunes on i
which others build. He takes a hand
at President-making, and his candidate <
suffers a paralytic stroke the week before
the convention. Mulberry, the i
Member, fails to get the appropriation
his constituents wanted, and those i
kindly souls burn him in effigy, and in- i
timate their purpose of running him I
out of the country if he should ever ;
return to it. 1
Many a man is a Mulborry Sellers i
who would be astounded if you dubbed i
him so. Superficial men who never 1
learn or do or say anything thoroughly ; i
immethodical ryen who lack the system i
and fidelity that make success ; incon- i
stant men who abandon one purpose as 1
soon an their quick brains conceive an- 1
other, and accomplish none of them ; i
foolish fellows who think that real sue- i
cess is a thing to be stolen * or bought 1
or snatched out of the hand of fate? i
these are representative Amerioans and :
representative of mnch that is raw and '
worthless in oar civilization. The '
moral of Mulberry Boilers is good, J
whatever his morals may be. i
i
*
The Stockholder.?Two boys were '
standing before a cigar store, when one j
asked the other, " Have you got three ]
cents?" "Yes." "Well, I nave got (
two cents ; give me yonr three oents \
and I will buy a five oenter." " All \
right," says No. 2, handing out his t
money. No. 1 enters the store, procures
the cigar, lighta it and puffs with
a good deal of satisfaction. " Come,
now, give us a pull," says No. 2, " I '
furnished more than half the money." '
" I know that," says the smoker ; " but J
then I'm the president, and you being '
only a stockholder, you oan spit." *
Stuped Boy.?A clergyman was en- j
deavoring to instruct one of his Bun- (
day-school scholars, a plow-boy, on
the naturo of a miracle. " Now, my
boy," said he, " suppose you should
see the sun rising in the middle of the ,
liigiu, wuai snouiu you call tliat ?" i
??The muse, plane, but." m No, but,"
said the olergyman, "suppose you
knew it was not the moon, bat the sun,
and that yen saw it actually rise in the ]
middle of the night, what should yon ]
think ?" " Plane, sur, I should think 1
it was time to get up I" i
TILE NORTH OF EUROPETlte
Svaniliiiilvliuii mail their Pee.ullurltlea?The
Lnpi.
In the uortli of Europe, Rays Du
Chaillu, before the American Geogfaphtcnl
Society, thero is a largo tract
of country very thinlv inhabited by
Swedes, Norwegians, Finlanders and
Laps. Its coast is indented by numerous
fiords of great beauty, the sea
being of great depth, and winding its
way inland, often in the mtclst of stupendous
soonery. These fiords were
dug out of the solid rock by glaciers on
their way toward the sea. The geological
features of that oountry impress
Uie mind with the great and constant
changes that have taken plaeo or are
taking place. The rocks are granite,
gneiss and mioa schist. As one studies
the coast line the eyes rest coutinuaily
on series of terraces one over the other,
perfect in shape, almost all sitnated at
the entranoes of valleys. These terraces
show distinctly by their rounded
pebbles the rising of the land abovo
the water, this slow and almost imperceptible
rising still taking place iu our
time. This country was once under the
influenoe of a much milder climate,
as genial as that of England now. We
must conclude from inferences tliat tlie
icy period is making again its appearance,
and that that impenetrable belt
of ice whioh seems to bar tho way to
the North Pole, and which our distinguished
member, Dr. Huyes, has partly
explored, was onoe an open sea. In the
interior of the country inhabited by
Laps, one meets everywhere positive
proofs of the rising of the laud. Shells
are found several hundred feet above
the level of the lakes ; mountains have
been polished as smooth as glasR by
the action of the ice; boulders of all
sizes have been scattered over the land
by the glaciers. Advancing glaciers
are demolishing to this day and breaking
the grauito hills which oppose
their march, while their retiring ones
leave behind them boulders, sand,
gravel, etc.
There are sea Laps, forest and river
Laps, and nomadic Laps. To -night 1
am only to speak of the nomadic Laps.
The wholo population of Lapland
amounts to about thirty thousand, the
nomadic Laplanders numbering about
twenty-five thousand, and possesssing
about five hundred thousand reindeer.
Their herds vary from fifty to five thousand.
There have been Laplanders
possessing even ten tbousand reindeer.
A man possessing from five hundred to
a thousand reindeer is considered rich.
Those who possess only fifty to one
hundred are poor; Tho reindeer is
everything tb the LaplaAderjc With its
Bkin he makes clothing, shoes, gloves ;
with its sinews his thread. Ho feeds
on its flesh, and the animal is his beast
of burden. The value of a reindeer
varies according to the country. Driving
reindeer broken to the harness aro
not very plentiful, and cost from ten
dollars to fifteen dollars each ; a com
monono from four dollars to six dollars.
The most intelligent Laps arc the
Swedish and Norwegian, compulsory
education having reached that distant
region. Thoy all know how to read.
Every one is or must be confirmed,
this oeremony being part of the Lutheran
creed; hence all must be able
to read the Bible and know their
catechism. Churches are scattered here
and there in tho desolate regions and
the church-going Laps come into them
on Sunday from every side.
. M. Da Chaillu described a gonuino,
old, arctic sleigh-ride, and his amusing
trials and mishaps in learning how to
manage the ticklish, colflu-like conveyance.
His first lesson took six hours,
and during that period he managed to
overturn tho machine an hundred
times, more or less, but without stopping
his steed or attempting so futile a
task, he held grimly ou to the single
rein, and thamped and bumped along
over the snow until a lucky kick sent
him back into the box. There was a
rule of driving, that tho throwing of
the rein to rest on the left flank was a
signal for a slow gait, while touching
the right flank meant full speed. For
himself he had'Dever been able to discover
the difference, the swift-footed
messenger going at his best ruto from
the moment of uarnessing. The
scratching of the reindeer for tho white
moss, through a five foot crust of snow,
was shown with praotical illustrations,
while the interest ?>f tho ladies cul
Lumtneu in a most neauienisniy-civilized
chignon, a nondescript ail'air of
open woodwork, possessing the merit
of perfect ventilation, if not of beauty,
rhe struggles of the speaker to lit this
to his own bald pate were received with
tiearty laughter. M. Dn Chaillu, by
special request,' concluded by donning
the suit worn by him in his Northern
travels, his " swell" clothes as he
styled them.
How to Teli,.?Alexander Dumas
oere, when he gave a dinner-party to
sommeroial men, had a somewhat singular
method of deciding tho time for
the inferior wine to be produced. He
snjoined his servants to put the beat
wine on the table at the beginning of
the meai, while the guests' heads wore
slear; "then," said he, "watch the
Malversation, and directly you hoar any
single one of the company say, ' I, who
im an honest man,' you may bo quite
sure that all their heads have gone
astray, and you oan Berve up any rubbish
you choose."
One man said of another who was unpopular,
and was fearfully dilapidated
physically, that he looked as though
be were walking about the streets to
a avo funeral expenses,