The tribune. (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, December 20, 1876, Image 1
f
The Beaufort Tribune.
VOL. IIT.?NO. 5. BEAUFORT, S. C., DECEMBER 20, 1876. $1.50 PER ANNUM.
r
t Covins Home.
" in coining," said a maiden,
Fton; < i? midat of cruel war,
Wifti the spoils oI viotory laden,
He is coming vcmo ouce more.'
Thus a maid ?ith golden bair,
And with<?yc8 of azure blue,
Raid, as the breezy air
Wavi?gi ber btight tresses flew.
Iljpo within her breast was high;
But, alas ! hope oft brings sorrow;
Yea! tho young hopes often die
Long beforo tho expected morrow.
So the hopeB we fondly cherish
"-At the rising of the morn, * .
Ijorg before the evening perish,
And so lvave us all forlorn. j
But as weeks and months they fleeted,
Still bcBide the rippling tide
Those few words the maid repeated,
B it in sadness oft she sighed.
Oft she saw his dark brown eye;
Oft she felt hie sweet embraoe;
As in dreamings by the sea,
Oft she saw her lover's faoo,
Bo*, alas' she little knew
That that dark brown eye was closed-,
"" That htr lover Viavo and trno
Iu the sloop of death reposed.
When at last the tidings came,
That her warrior lover brave,
Crowned with lanrel leaves of fame,
' Far away had found a grave,
Then no tear bedewed her cheek.
Bat her face grew deadly pale;
Not a word did she thou speak,
Uttered not a single waiL
Bat for many % weary day.
Wandered sadly by tho tide;
Gradually she pinod away?
Heartbroken, soon sbe died.
FOR TWENTY YEARS.
A Christmas Story.
k It dou't seem much of a story to toll,
though it was a tough one to live. You
see, it was more than twenty years ago
that my twin brother and I sold out our
homestead in New York, and went to
California to seek our fortune. All
rest of the family were dead, and we two
were the more attached to each other for
that.
Well, wo triod mining, and we tried
trading, and we triod everything we
oould think of, bnt nothing seemed to
prosper with us; we only grew poorer
and poorer.
Finally, we thonght of the idea of sepO
roll ti nr o or* fo ^ ? A
... .....JJJ, ou an wu nuift 1IWU UOIUS HI UDOe,
before tlo lost of our capital was gone.
There was great talk jnst then of some
new gold region, and we agreed that one
of ns should go there and try his luck,
while the other stayed in Sin Francisco
and carried on a little business we had
stai ted there.
Of course, everything was partnership.
I never thought of an interest
separate from his, and he, I knew, felt
the same.
Well, the question arose which of us
should go. It wasn't very tempting, the
r mining life, and neither of us was anxious
for it, and so we drew.lots to sou
who should go.
Tho lot fell to me.
There was another reason why I didn't
want to go, besides the uncomfortable
life, but I wouldu't tell Rob; for I
wouldn't drive him off to the mines, and
I knew hi* generous heart so well, that
I w.is sure ^he ' would iusist on going, if
he wore aware of all.
But?w? il, tho truth is, in a word, I
was in love, and I couldn't bear to leave
my dainty Susy to tight the world alone
?she was a music teacher. t>oor thine t
?nor for other fellows to fall in love
with.
However, I submitted, of course, to
the lot, and made my preparations to
go. It was a sad heart that I bore
around to Susy's rooms that night, and
I couldn't bear to tell her ; but, bless
you I she uo sooner saw my face than
* she htiow something was coming, and
she braced herself up to meet it before
she asked mo a question. After we had
spoken of ths weather, and the book I
had brought bur the day before, at last
she said, quietly
" Well, Ralph, %bat is itf I know
* you have bad news for me."
i It's bad for me, busy, and I'm
1 afraid it will be bad for you ; though
you know "?
I couldn't go on, and she spoke again,
'1 bravo as she always was :
" Ralph, yon know I'm used to misfortunes.
Tell mo atonoe."
So I told W nn<l alio ?* ??w
f wmv IV A4WAJT~~
M I know she would?though I was the
f only iriend she had in San Francisco,
\ exospt her pnpils.
Bnfc 1 had thought of another plan to
make my going a little easier. That
was, to mako her my wife before I left,
so as to leave her ht the care of Bob,
and relieve her from the hard life she
v was living.
After some persuasion, she consented
to it.
So, a dAy or two afterward, we three
?I had told Bob?went into a qaiet
church, and Snsy was given to tae to
cherish and protect till death.
< Brave little woman 1 how trustingly
4he gave me her heart, and how basely
) failed her I How ready I was to believe
;f Bat let me go back. I took her to
jSour oozy boarding plaoe, which van in -1
Jjldeod a home to as, installed her an its
^^^^^Mdress, made every provision that love
wulil suggest for her comfort, enjoyed
the bliss of a few hoars' honeymoon,
ami then left her.
I needn't speak of that. It was hard.
I tell yon.
Ah, well 1 I'm an old man now?oldei
by sorrow than by years ; bnt I shall
never forget the fresh, daiuty look ol
my darling, as I l.-ft her on the stepc
that bitter day?a bride in the morning,
a widow at night. And I never did for
get it through all the black yoars, though
it seemed as though the very memory
of it would drive mo mad.
Well, I went to the mines, and I tried
faithfully, eagerly, for my heart waf
longing to get back to her. But I could
not succeed. Mails were not then established,
so I did not hear from my twc
dear ones; but all the harder I toiled,
for never a thought of doubt entered
mv mind. I was only too glad to have
my dear brother to care for her, ami
save her from all rough contact with tht
world.
Finding no lnok in the mines, I de
tcrmined to pnsb on into the Indiar
oonntry, and try a little hunting ani
trapping?for that was good businesi
then. 1 succeeded a little better at that
but wandered on, and finally came ou
a4 Frazer river, where the gold excite
! merit h.i.l broken out fiercely.
I don't know now whether it wai
mouths'or years?days and weeks wen
alike to me for a long time -but at last!
was successful, and got together fivi
thousand dollars in the yellow dust. O
e >urso, my only thought was of my
wife, and I seized the first opportunity
to send off the treasure.
A miner, going home, willingly tool
ciiarge of my little pile, and soon ^
begun to look for letters.
Bob's I could easily imagine?noble
manly, like himself. Susy's I thongh
of, aud tried to fancy, hundreds o
times, for I'd never had a letter fron
her. I knew it would bo delicate an<
dainty, and like my pretty snowdrop.
Well, well, fancies raoy do very well
but they won't feed a hungry heart.
Day after day passed by, and no lot
t? >-f>. My soul grow sick. I made al
s rts of excuses for them. I imaginec
r! sorts of delays. But the long, drear;
di-vo went by wilh leaden feet, and not'
w ard came to tbo wanderer.
I grew moibid and bitter, aud at las
I wrote to an acquaintance in San Fran
ni j/iA eelrirvn frxa
v> nnuiu^ IV.'! HUII ^O Ui 1UJ UlUtUt'
and wife.
The friend was not so neglectful a
tl.o wi/o and brotiran
Soon?too soon?I got a reply. I cai
a e it now, in letters of fire. " My dea:
fellow,' it ran, " I have made inquiries
a i you requ sted, about your wife am
brother, aud I can only find that the]
disappeared from here a few monthi
0| o, telling no one whence they wer
going, but evidently having plenty o
mmey."
Whit more tl^e letter contained
never knew; that much of it was borne
into my brain, and at that point I loe
myself. They do eay I was a ravin;
maniac. Perhaps so; I don't know.
I only know I found myself an ol
man, blasted before my time, like
tree struck by lightning.
Yet, I could not feel angry. Hoi
could ? blame him? Was I not mad t
leave him, with his loving heart, to car
for a tender young beauty like my Susy
How could he help lo\ing her? Wasu'
she all that was lovely ? He was not t
blame, poor fellow.
And she ? Did she not love me, am
was he not my twin brother? What ?
strange that, seeing his love, she shoul<
grow to return it ?
What should ? do? Should I searcl
them out, and blast their lives forever
Should I coma with my ignoble revengt
and tear her from his arms? Would elit
love me for it ? Should I get back m]
wife and brother ?
Oh, no 1 I had been gone long enongl
to give her a divorce?she had undonbt
edly got it, aud was even now his wife
His wife 1 Oh, God, and I could live
Weekp, months, years, dragged on. ]
scarcely knew they passed. Mechaui
cally, I worked on. Fortune, no longe:
sought, showered gold on me. I caret
naught for it, but instinct prevented m<
from throwing it away. Gambling wa
ntterly repugnant to me. No form o
dissipation lured me. I was an old, oh
man at thirty. I only worked ant
thought, and lived over the old daysm
V one brief daw of
? . ? ?j j?j.
I never cursed them. The hurt wa
to > deep and too sharp for curses. Fron
tho d? pths of ray torn heart I pitie<
them
W?)i, twenty years rolled on, and
had got to be forty-five years old, feelinj
and looking more like sixty-five, bon
and stiff and gray haired.
, One pleasant Christmas day, in m;
wanderings, X onrao on a traveling part;
of miners, bound to the gold regions. '
joined them, frontier fashion, and wa
soon stated at their fire, exohangini
news of tho Indians and from th
States. I chanced to mention m;
name.
"We've got a namesake of yours L
camp," said one lellow.
"Have you?" I said, carelessly. " I
isn't a oommon name."
? Nn> ni'< ?1 !i?- - ' ?? ?
uuu ?uii> o wuy 111 O UUU, BUI
ho. " Besides, yon somehow remim
me of him, though you're much olde
than he. By-the-way, there he oomes I'
I turned?something, I knew no
what, shot through me; I rose, am
knew my brother.
My heart gave one great bound,
forgot my wrongs. I saw only my dea
other self, the companion of my boy
hood. I sprnng forward.
Robert I dear old boy! is it you V
He looked at me eagerly - incredu
lously.
" Ralph 1 it can't be you I"
It is 1" I cried, and?well, I don'
I know as I'm ashamed cf it?I embraced
him like a schoolgirl, and wept.
And so did he, poor fellow, thougt
he could hardly believe the wrecked old
man was his brother.
But what ntiuck me, even then, a<
I strange, he did not shrink from me, not
f aot as though ho had injured me.
i " Robert," I said, when we wer<
, alone, and calmer, "I've forgiven yoc
long ago. We won't speak of tho pasl
i ?let me only bo happy in tho bliss ol
r seeing yon once more. I'll never comt
around to trouble you."
I " Forgive me ?" he said, inquiringly
i " I don t understand. You'Jl neve]
trouble mo?and we'll not speak of th(
past? Why didn't you write to us
Ralph ? Your poor little wife "?
"Don't speak cf herl" I cried, ii
sudden agony. " I can bear anything
else?spare mo that!"
" But, Balpb, there's RomethiDg ven
strange here. Why didn't you let ui
hoar from you ? Why can't I speak o
her f Since you are not doad?as w<
supposed?why did you desert her?"
" Desert her I My God I" and !
fairly laughed.
A horriblo laugh, I daro say, to:
, Robert turned palo. I could see hi
thought 1 wns mad. I resolved to con
ti ol myself, and since we must havo i
out, talk it over. So, after a turn o:
two, I came back, and stood by kin
once more.
" Now, Robert, if there is any mis
teko hero, lot us understand it at ouoe
I left you twenty years ago, in charge o
my wife, in San Francisco"?
" You did, and I"?
" And you." I interrupted, tool
good care ot her, and did not hear fron
m ; and elie grew tired of waiting, om
lo- ing a shadow; and you?and youlc-ved
her I"
" Hold I" he shouted, his eyes blaa
iup-. " Who told you that iufamou
lie ?"
" And she," I went on, not heedini
kira?" she grew faint and tired; an*
she saw your love, and she?return*, i
it "
Robert seized my arm as though h
w mid murder mo ; hut I went on
coolly :
" Hush, till I have done. When yo'
received the money I sent, you were to
f* r gone to go back. She got a divorce
you married her, and left the city,
don't blame you."
" And you 1?you've believed tki
s tbiDg for twenty years ?" ho said, calml;
n >w. though it was the ealmoesn of *
i smothered volcano.
r "l navo."
, " You bavo for twenty long years be
1 lioved that your wife and your brothe
j wt-ro iufamonsly false to you ?"
a "I have." '
d " Then hear me, Ralph, while
f svear"?and his form seemed to fairl
dilate, and grow grand, as ho saidj
" solemnly, that the whole story is
3 most infamons falsehood 1 That you
(t w fe is as true to you to-day as she wa
r? the day you left her, twenty years ago I
" What do you mean ?" I cried, frant
c 11 y, overwhelmed by his manner an
a h i words.
" What I do say, Ralph. Oh ! ther
v has beeu some damnable mistake ! Hoa
0 my story. After you left us, 1 strug
e g;ed on with the business, though no
f succeeding very well. Susy drooped n
t first, but soon grew cheerful, and begn
0 to plau for your return."
iln words brought the dear littl
j creature so plainly before my eyes, tha
0 I :>unk to the ground and covered m,
\ face.
" As weeks and months and year
1 pessod on," he went on, slowly, " he
? ci.eek.s grew thin and pale, and a bun
a g> y look came into her eyca, I saw sh
3 w is pining, and wrote lettOT after lette
f to you, but no word* could we beat
T'.iere camo to me in a simple envelope
l d rected to both of us, a draft of flv
tl ousan.l dollars, with not a word t<
. te 11 how or from whom it came. O
I o< urse we knew it was from you, bu
[ w ietber gift or legaoy, who could tell
" Wo instituted new inquiries. Notk
r it g that love could suggest was left un
1 done. At last we were forced to con
s cl tde that you wore dead. By my ad
s v. -e the mouey was invested in a fare
f mi me distance from San Francisco, am
1 S :sy wont to live on it, while I startci
1 out on a sort of vagabond, wanderini
- li e, in hopes at least to find your grav
? for wo never believed you could b
s alive these long years and never lot u
a hi ar. That life I have lived for tlfteei
1 y ars, returning once in three or fgu
y. ars to see to the oomfort of Susy; am
I now I find you "?
ij "You find me," I interrupted, *i
t W. eok ft miflArahla nrvnnlr ko
bitoil three lives by his criminal weak
y noss, his childish credulity in believinj
y evil, and who will soon rid the earth o
I his presence," and I started to go, to
H verily despair had seized upon me.
, That T should have believed that hor
e ror for so many years, and find it all i
? stupid mistake; that I should hav<
thrown awav my life, the blessed love o
n my true wife, the warm affection of nr
brother, for an idle scandal 1 It was tox
t much to endure.
Robert laid a detaining hand on nr
j arm.
j " But Susy, Ralph 1 what shall I sai
r to the loving little woman who has suf
" fered so muoh for yout"
t "Let her still believe me dead," ]
3 said, gloomily.
" Nay, brother; let me rather restore
I you to her. Ralplr, go home, and le
r us be so happy together as to partly
make up for thew years of mistakes an<
error sn 1 grief."
" Well, he pfiwtaded me, and soon 1
wan rager enough myself. Now th<
gold I had despised was valuable, as it
could add to Susy's oomfort. I gather
t ed it up, and we started for home.
I Home I I had not spoken the word
for fifteen yearn,
i As we went, Robert tried to prepare
I me for a change in Sney.
" She has had a life of sonow as well
? as yon, Ralph, and you must remember
r she isn't the girl of eighteen you left.
She is nearly forty years old."
> As I drew hear, I seemed to grow
i young again, and I wanted to rush
t through without st pping a moment,
f Ilut Robert refused; aud ho wanted to
J get mo into civilized clothes, aud under
tho hands of a barber. Ho wouldn't
. take such a wild man of tho woods
r home to tho little, waiting wife.
J So wo stopped a few hours in San
, Francisco. I had my long white hair
and beard trimmed, and my dross ari
ranged to suit Robert, and hastmcd on
J toward homo.
As we approached tho blessed spot
T n.1,.i.._i:? 1: 1 T l.i
f wuciu ilij uniliu^ 11VCU) JL UUUHl WUiATCOs
ly breathe, and I dreaded to frighten
f her to death. In sight of the houRe, I
3 sent Robert ahead to tell her, and I
basely hid in the shrubbery, where I
I could look into the window.
There she was! the same dainty
r figure?the samo lovely face; but
a dressed, oh, my God ! in widow's
- weeds, and her bonny brown hair thick t
ly sprinkled with silver.
f I saw her rapid, eager conversation.
i I saw the color come quiokly to her
face, then leave it pale as death. I saw
- her turn to the door, and fly.- And I
. sprang to meet her and?and?
I Weil, I can't tell about that.
On hearing her story, I found that
1 Robert had left out the tale of his own
j griefs. That he had warmly loved a
gentle girl, but never let her know it ;
had sacrificed his own happiness to
spend kin life seeking mo, and caring
for my wife ; that she had married another,
and Robert was foroed to see her
the very unhappy wife of a poor, miserable
wretch.
1 And what said the little woman, when
she knew that I had stayed away all these
long years, had blasted her life, disap6
pointed my brother's life love, made deep
l? misery for four, by my stupid belief of
a piece of gossip that, oven to hear reu
pealed, she shrunk from as thongh it
? would wither her? I always knew she
! w".s an nngel. She said, though with
I quivering lips and tearful eyes :
" Dear Ralph, lot us speak of it never
8 again. It was a dreadful mistake. Let
V Un be happy in the years we have yet to
* live, and leave it to another life to adjust
the errors of this."
X A XeiT Pirtnro nf tha
An Amorioan in Tnrkistan, in describj
in-; -what he saw, iu Scribncr's, gives us
y this entirely new picture of the camel,
the ship of the desert: Ungainly, una
amiable and disgusting in odor, they are
r set down as a sort of cross between a
s oow aad a cassowary. Soon in the dis>?
tauce, they make one think of a big
j. overgrown ostrich, with their claw-feet
j and their long necks, which they turn
about so as always to observe everything
e which comes by, and stare at you with
r their big vacant eyes until you have
p. passed fully out of sight. They seem to
stuud cold very well, although they will
^ lake cold and die if allowed to lie down
n iu the snow. Hence, duriug the winter
on the steppe, their bodies are wrapped
0 up in felt, whioh, when taken off in
spriug, cariies most of the hair with it,
y and they then look entirely naked. If
they get an idea into their heads that
the road is long, or the weight too
* heavy, or that some part of the harness
is wrong, they oommence to howl. It is
" not exactly a groan nor a cry, but a very
human, shrill and disagreeable sound;
and this they never cense?they keep it
' up from the time they start until they
'' reach their destination, varying their
" performances by occasionally kneeling
. down and refusing to advance; or if they
, do go on, holding back in such a man
j nor as to make progress all the slower.
In this case there is nothing to do but
to unfasten the animal, turn him loose
l~ and tie his legs together, when he will
f" begin to browse about, poking tho snow
away with his nose, and his driver will
1 Hud him when he comes back. Oamels
, are much too stupid to go home, as any
other animal would, but thoy will con=
tinue to walk on in the same direotion
" their faces are turned, without ovor
f* thinking of master or stable or anything
else. They are very revengeful, and in
the spring season tho male camels aro
, very often daugerons. Many instancis
are known where thoy havo bitten persons
to death, and thoy then have to be
oarofully muzzled. Thore was one comfort
to be got out of them notwithstand'
ing?their walk was so quiet and saun*
tering, that in tho morning, when it was
not too cold, we oould read with ease in
tho carriage, as there was not motion
enough to jolt the hook.
n After a Tramp,
f A man knocked at the door of a house
7 near Whitestown, N. Y., demanded
* something to eat, and being refused,
threatened to set tiro to the roof. The
7 lady within refused to ooon the donr.
and qnickly slipped out of the honse
7 by the back way and ran to her hnsband,
who was at work noar by. The tramp
caught sight of the hnsband and ran oh,
[ but was olosely pursued. The husband
lost his breath and shouted to a neighs
bor to follow the fagitive. The neiglit
bor ran for a while, but lie too booame
j exhausted after he had passed the word
1 to a third man. The last man was fresh,
and the tramp was led back to the barn
f in the rcAr of the house where he had
s applied for admission. Then the three
t men tied him up by arms and each of
- them gave him as many lashes as they
oonld lay upon him.
The Trick ou Bobbins.
.Tames Bobbins, of Detroit, the Free
Pre** Hays, has been missing for three
days, but there is no anxiety around his
house to loam his fate. His wife knows
what caused him to disappear, and she
is willing to let him get good and ready
to come back. Bobbins married a loue
widow about four months ago, and they
had not been wedded two weeks when
ho gave her a beating. Sho overlooked
it then, thinking he would soon tone
down, but in a week more ho blacked
her eyes. In brief, Bobbins turned out
to be n brute of a husband, and tho exwidow
had the sympathy of all tho
neighbors. She is said to bo moek and
humble in spirit, and Bobbins had no
oscuso for his brutality. Four or five
days ago he knocked her down and
started off uptown, and the wife crawled
over to a butcher's to see about having
Bobbins arrested. T^lie butcher, who
weighs one hundred and ninety pounds
and has a fist like a maul, knew a better
way than going to tho polioe, knd ho unfoldod
a plan. ,
When Bobbins reaohed home that
evening the house was dark and the
butcher, dressed in woman's clothes and
with his jaws tied up, sat in the rocking
chair.
* Why in blazes isn't supper readv ?"
bowled Robbing, as he stood in the
door.
The butcher groaned.
"Granting around again 1" shouted
Bobbins. " What's the matter now?"
The butcher groaned ogniii.
" Ton feel too high toned to answer
me, do you!" growled the wife beater,
" Well, we'll soo about that. Just take
this, will you !"
He struck out, but the disguised butcher
caught his wrist, sprung up, and
there was fun in that cottage. Ho choked
Bobbins almost *o death, tied him up
into hard knots and untied him, drew
turnaround by the heels and tho hair,
and finally piekod him up and tossed
him over the f?Doe into the mud. The
wifo bcalev had kept up a steady yelling
from tho first attack, and as ho rose
from tho mud and sped down the street
i n t eemed to think that Sitting Bull's
whole fighting force were after him. At
eleven o'clock that night ho entered a
saloon and told a story about six men
robbing him, and half "an hour later, as
bo was prowling around a shed to find a
place to elcop, a policeman heard him
^frying :
"Nose smashed, eyes bunged up,sore
thro it, bruised all over and awful
sleepy! What a docoiving poison a
widow woman is!"
Masses for Mario Antoinette.
On tho sixteenth of October masses
wero celebrated in the expiatory chapel,
on tho Boulevard Haussmau, Paris,
from seven iu the moruing until noon.
Tho occasion was the eighty-third anniversary
of tho execution of Qaeen Marie
Antoinette. The chapel is small, ard
wis full of people, it is situated in a
little park, on one of tho ceutrul streets
of Paris. In this park are a few tine old
trees, which seem to hang in Bomber
sadness over tho place where the unfortunate
queen ami her husbanJ, Louis |
11to sixteenth, were first buried. With
an obtuse sense of the fitness of things,
a hack stand is permitted outside the
g.ite,', which, to keep at a distance, would
b < moro iu k- eping with the regretful
memories which cluster around the
spot. This place of intorment, at the
time of their burial, was called the
churchyard of the Madelaine, and extt
uded from behind thut grand old struo
ture to this quiet park, which is all that
is left of it. Streets, stately blocks and
hotels, have usurped the resting places
of the silent. The remains of Marie
Antoinette und of Louis the Sixteenth
w ro removed from this chapel, by Napulonn
the First, to St. Dennis, where
are the royal tombB of kings. AmoDg
the persons present at mass were Don
C trios and the Duchess of Madrid,
General de Gesliu, the Marquis do
Dreux-Boize, Vice-Admiral Sairsot, the
Princess Trouvetzkio, and Madame Barbier,
granddaughter of Madajne Dussand,
lady in waiting to the queen.
T.ie usher was full seven feet high, and
broad in proportion, with three or four
decorations on his breast, and room for
m ?re. Ho mudo way for the members
of tho House of Orleans with an air, and
chairs and people moved qnickly to
either side. The ladies wore black
veils; one of their nnmber carried a
m iguificent rosary. The audience evidently
lived in the time of Marie Antoinette,
for all tho antiquated rigging
of her reign surely made its appearance.
D in Oarlos partook of the saornment.
Madame Barbier was maid of honor to
tin) wifo ol Don Oarlos.
An Ancient Statute.
An old statute has been unveiled in
N?w Jersey which declares that all
churoh entertainments, feats of legerdemain
and jugglery, circus performances,
variety shows, or any theatrical exhibi
nou 01 any Kind wnatever are illegal.
Tim preamble to the old statute recites :
"Sach shows and exhibitions tend to no
good or nseful purpose in society, but
on the eontrary to oollect together great
numbers of idle, unwary spectators as
woll an children and servants, to gratify
vain and useless curiosity and oorrupt
tho morals of youth and straiten and
impoverish many poor families."
A oase is being tried under the statute
and it will go to the supreme oonrt to
test tho validity of the section.
During the seventy-two years' existence
of the British Bible Society it has
issued 76.482,728 books, at the cost of
?7,043,214 16s. 3d.
Items of Interest.
Charles Wood pleaded guilty to driv
ing a sore aud wounded lioreo in New
York, and was sentenced to one year in '
the penitentiary.
Look out for tho new patent peach
oaeket which is coming into use next
yoar. It looks as if it would hold a peck,
but it is hard work to get a quart into
it. ?
Tho population of Pern is decreasing,
being less than three millions. Tho docrease
is attributed to earthquakes, diseases,
civil war and braudy, especially
tho latter.
An ludianapolis debating society has
decided that tho execution of Charles
the First was unjustifiable. The prospects
of the Btuart family are beginning
to look up.
Don't think of knocking out another
person's brains because bo differs in
opinion with yon. It will be as rational
to knock yonrself on the bead becauso
you differ with yourself ten years ago.
Lord Chancellor Campbell, a few days
before his death, met a barrister, and
remarked : " Why, Mr. , you aro
g< itiug as fat us a porpoise." " Fit
( ninniinv. rnv lnnl for the ffrnnt seal."
r J J J I O *
was tho ready repartee.
A New Orleans editor recently visited
Boston, and evidently went around upon
a tour of investigation. Ho says :
" There are eighty-threo uncles in Boston
with whom young men can leave
the'r jewelry."
Tho chief of an Esquimaux tribe,
named Alnnk, arrived at Dundee, in
Scotland, tho other day on board the
wlmler Arctio, from Davis straits. He
is young and intelligent, and is said to
b.ivc been importuning tho captains of
whalers for some years past to bring
him to England.
Tho dook of tho Alert, in tho Arctio
Be a, was covered with two feot of snow
for economizing heat below. While the
air on tho nppor dock was seventy degrees
below zero, equivalent to one
hundred degrees of front, on the lower
d? ek a mean temperature of forty-nine
d- grees was maintained.
Tho London Women's Printing SocVty,
just established, affords girls an
opportunity of receiving thorough instruction
iu typo setting uud the lighter
b. .niches of printing. After a month's
tr; d the girls enter upon a three years'
apprenticeship, during which small but
increasing weekly wages are paid.
The codfish caught off tho shoro of
Newfoundland are split, washed and
laid on spruce boughs to dry. After tho
sua and air have uleacliod them white,
L! oy are assorted into " merchantable,"
f? r tho best markets. "Madeira," for
unto as second quality, ana "dan," or
broken fish, for homo consumption.
The fish exported to hot countries are
pr eked by screw power in casks. Very
Ski go quantities are sent to countries as
remote as Greece, Spain and Portugal.
Gloddaeth woods, near* Llandudno,
W iles, has been the scene of an extraor
iinary poaching affray. Fifteen
k? pers, bent on capturing a gang of
p< i tellers, hid in the gur.-room, but the
poachers, obtaining information of the
trap laid for them, detached a firing
party, which kept up a fusillade from
behind a wall on lh? gun room, while
tl?-ir comrades bagged the game. The
poachers kept their would-be captors in
confinement for an honr. Three were
w undid ; the remainder escaped by
h. apiug up tables and furniture for
pr tcctiou.
The Uasket Trick.
'Che trick known as the " basket
ti iek," which Heller, the prestidigitor,
introduces excites a good deal of surp
ise, as it is only natural it should.
Too conditions of the trick are simply as
follows: A largo basket is brought out
and placed iu fall view upon a bench
supported on four primitive wooden
1< gs and leaving an open space between
the basket and the floor. There seems
no possible way by which a human being
oi:eo in could get out of that basket
without being si en. Tfco basket placed
by Mr. Heller and his assistant, Mr.
Beller next brings forward a pair of
overalls which cover him to the ncok
and which have no outlet at the ends of
the sleeves or legs. When tho overalls
are drawn on and a hood drawn over Mr.
Heller's head and attached to the main
gaiment by strings, there remains no
outlet lor so much hh a linger of the performer
to get through. Bat as Mr.
Heller is about to remove hie coat for
the purpose of donning this garment he
remembers that ho is in New York insteud
of Australia?that is his carelessly
stated excuse?and a screen, which
reaches up to the performer's neck, is
placed behind tho basket, and the performer
retires behind this aud effects
the change. Bo far as one notices, his
head does not onoe disappear during the
time he is employed in drawing on the
overalls. The last vision one has is cf
Mr. Heller's own face disappearing in
the ample hood, and immediately he
stops oat from behind the screen, and,
with the help of his assistant, climbs
into the basket, the lid of which is closed
npon him and locked. As far as any
human eve can discover this is Mr. Heller
who nas just gone into tho basket,
but in the same instant?almost before
the oover is down?Mr. Heller makes
his appearance in ordinary evening costnrae
at the entrance of the theatre and
walks down the aisle, inquiring " what
was being done with him." He immediately
ascends the platform, opens the
basket and nobody is within. The question
is still an open one, How did Mr.
Heller oease to be the man in the
basket, and whoever the man in the
basket was, how did he get ont f