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VOL. I---NO. 5.1 WINNSBORO, S. C. FRIDAY MORN[NG, NOVEMBER ), 1876. { THE BETTER WAY. One evening, as the twilight was dusking into deeper shades, Farmer Welton stood in'his dooryard with a gun in his hands, and saw a dog coming out of his shed. It was not his dog, for his was of a light color, while this was surely black. The shed alluded to was open in front, with double doors, for the passage of carts; and the shed was a part of a continuous structure con lecting the barn with the house. Around back of this shed was the sheopfold. There hiad been trouble upon Farmer Welton's place. Dogs had been killing his shoop-and soino of the very best at that. He had de clared, in his wrath, that he would shoot the first stray dog he found prowling about his promises. On this evening, by chance, ie had been carrying his gun from the house to the barn when tlia c.Line in truder appeared. Aye, and in the barn lie had boon taking the skin from a valuable sheep that hadl been killed and mangled with tigerish ferocity. So when he saw the strango dog coming through his she.1, he brought his gun to his shoulder, and with a quick, sure aim, fired. The dog gave a leap and a howl, and whirling around in a circle two or three times, lie bounded off in a tangent, yelping painfully, and was soon lost to sight. , "Hallo ! What's to pay now, Wel ton ?" "hi-ia that you, Frost ?" "xes. Ye been shooting some thing, haven't ye " "I've shot a dog, I think." "Y-e-s. I seed him scootin' off. It was Brackett's, I reckon." Before the farmer could make any further remark, his wife called to him from the porch, and he wont Very shortly afterward a boy and a girl came out through the shod as the dog had come. Down back of Welton's farm, distant half a mile or so, was a grist mill, with quite a settlement around it, and the people having occasion to go on foot from that section to the farms on the hills could cut of a long distalce by crossing Wclt'on's lot. The boy and girl were ehildron of Mr. Brackett. When they reached home they wore * met by a scene of dire con tusion. Old Carlo, the grand old Nowfouid land dog-the loving and the loved -the t':ue and the faithful-had como home -shot through the heid, andi was dying. The children throw themselves on their shaggy mate and wept and moaned in agony. Mr. Brackett arrived just as the dog breathed his last. Oi0 of the older boys stood by with a lighted lantern, for it had grown quite dmi k now, and the farmer saw wVhat had happened. hViio did this!" he asked, groan ingly. "John Welton did it," said Tom Frost, coming up1 at that miomnent. "He's been laiin' sheep, andl I guess lie's got kind of wrathy." But my dlog never killed a sheep -never 1 He's beeni reared to care for sheep. How came he down there 7" "He went over to the mill with Sis and me," said the younger boy, sobbing as be spoke ; "acnd he w~as running on abead of us towvard home. I heard a gun just betfore wo got to Mr. Walton's, but, oh 1 I did not think lie could have shiot poor Carlo." Mr. Brackett was fairly beside him self. To say be was angry would not express it. He had loved that dog-it had been the chief poet of his household for years. .Literally boil ing wvith hot wrath and indignation, he started for Waltton's. John Welton and Peter' Brackett had been neighbors fr'om their ear liest days, and they had been friends, too. Between the two families the co had been a bond of love and good will, and a spirit of fraternal kond ness and regard had marked their into: course. Both the farmenrs were hard working men, with strong feel. ings and positive cenaracteristics. They belonged to the same religious society and sympathized in politics. They had warm discussions, Lui never yet a direct falling out. Of the two Wolton was the more inteo lectual, anid per'hiaps a little more tinged with pride than was his neigh bor. But they woere both hearty anen, enjoying life for the good it gave them. SMr. Woelton entered his kitchen, and stood the empty gun up behind the door. "What's the matter, John ?" his wife asked, as she sawv his troubled face. "I'm afraid I've done a bad thing," he replied, regretfully. "I fear I . have shiot Brackett's dog." "Oh, John I" "But I don't know whose dlog it was. I saw him coming out from the shed-it was too dark to see more than that it was a dog. I only thought of the sheep I had lost and I fired." "I am sorry, John. Oh, howv Mrs , Brackett and the children will feel. They set everything by old Carlo. JBut you can explain it " "YesI c-an explain it" Half an hour later Mr. Welton was I going to his barn with a lighted lantorn in his hand. He was think ing of the recent unfortunate occur rence, and was sorely worried and perplexed. What would his neigh bor say ? He hoped there might be no trouble. He was reflecting thus when Mr. Brackett appeared before him, coming up quickly and stop ping with an angry stamp of the foot. Now, there may be a volumo of electric influence even in stain of a foot, and there was such an influence in the stamp which Bracket gave ; and Welton felt it, and braced him self against it. There was, moreover, an atmosphere exhaling from the presonco of the irate man at once repollant and aggravating. "John Welton, you have shot my dog I" The words were hissed forth hotly. "Yes," said Welton, icily. "How dared you do it 7" "I dare shoot any any dog that comes prowling about my buildings, especially when I have had my shoop killed by them." "But my (log never troubled your sl-eep, and you know it I" "How should I know it ?" "You know that he never did harm to a sheop. It wasn't In his nature. . It was a mean, cowardly act, and you shall sufror for it." "Brackett, you don't know to whom you are talking." "Oho ! We'll find out. Don't put on airs, John Welton. Youlain't a saint. I'll have satisfaction if I have to take it out of your hide ?" "Peter, you'd better go home and cool off. You are making yoursolf ridiculous " Now really, this was the unkind est cut of all Not all the mad words of Brackett put together were so hard as this single sentence; and John Welton put all the bitter sarcasm in his commnund into it. Brackett broke forth into a tor rent of invectives, and then turned away. Half an hour later John Welton acknowledged to himself ih it he had nyt dono exactly right. Had he, in the outset, in answer to Brackett's first outburst, told the simple truth -that he had shot the dog by mis tako ; th t he was sorry, and that lie was wiling to do anything in his power to make amends-had lie done this his neighbor would proba bly have softened at once. But it was too late now. The blow had becii struck ; he had been grossly insulted, and he would not back (own. Mr. Brackett was not so reflective. I He only felt his wrath, which lie nmrsed to keep it warm. Thatnight he hitched his horse to a job wagon, and went to the vi 1 .go for a barrel of flour. Having transacted his stOro blusineSS, he called upon Laban Peppoi, a lawyer, to whom he narratedl the facts of the shoot ilng of his dog. PI)pl)er was a man anxious for fees. Ile had no sympathy or soul about "You any your dog was in compa ny with two of your children ?" "Yes." "And this passage over Mr. Wol ton's hmnd andl though his shed laud b)o01 freely yielded bly him asa a right of way to his neighbors?" "Yssi, ever since I can remnem "Then, miy dhar' airl, *Welton is clear'ly liable If you will come with mce o ill step) into Mr. Garfield's and have a suit commenced at once. Mr. Garfield was the trial justice. All this happened on Friday even ing. On Sataurday it had beco'-'i noised abr'oad in the farming die trict that there was not only serious trouble between the neighbors Wo'l ton and Braekott, but that they were going to law about it. On Suinday morn11ing John WVel ton told his wife he should not attend church. She had no0 nood( to ask her' husbanld why he should not go out. She knew lie was unhappy, and that lie could not boar' to meet his old neighbor in the house of God while the dark cloud was upon01 him. Nor (lid she wvishm to meet either Mr. or Mrs Birackett. So they both stayed ait home11. Peter Blrackett was even more mis erable than John WVelton, though lhe p~erhmaps dlid not knowv it. Hie held in close companionship) tihe very worst (lemon a man camn embrace the demon of wrathiful vengeance and in order to maintain himself at the strain to which lie had set his feelings, lie was obliged to nurse the monster. He did not attend chur'ch 0on that dlay, nor did his wife. Two or thrmee times during the calm, beautiful Sabbath, as lie glanced over toward his neighbor's dwelling, he found himself beginning to wish that he hmad not gone to see John \Velton in such a heat of anger ; but lie put the wish away, and nursed back his wrath. On Monday, towvard noon, the constable came in from the village *and read to John Welton an impos ing legal document. It was a sumi mons issued by Wmn. Garfield, Esq., a justice of the peace and quorum, ordering the said John Welton to appear before himn at two of thme clock on Wednesday, at his office, then and there to answer the com plaint of Peter Br'ackett, etc. The officer read the summons, anid left' with the defendanit a copy. L t was the first time .Tohn Wann7 had ever been called upon to face the law. At fu Ft he was awo-stricken, then he was wroth. He told himself that lie would fight it to the bitter end. And now ho tried to nurse his wrath, and became more unhappy than beforc. On Tuesday evening Parson Surely called upon Mr. Welton-' The good man had hoard of the trou ble and was exceedingly exercised in spirit. Both the men were of his flock, and lie loved and respected them. He sat down alone with Welton, and asked him what it meant. "Toll me calmly and candidly all about it," lie said. y After a little reflection Mr. Wol ton told the story. He knew the old clergyman for a true man and a whole-hearted friend, and he told! everything just as lie understood it. "And neighbor Brackett thinks, even now, that you shot the (log, knowing that it was his ?" "I suppose SO." "If you had told him the exact ficts in the beginning, do you think he would have held his anger I" This was a hard question for John Welton, but he answered it man fully. "Truly, parson, I do not think he would." "Wore you ever more unhappy in your life than you have been since this trouble came ?" "I think not." "And, if possible, neighbor Brack ett is more unhappy than you." "Do you think so "Yes. He is the most angry and revengeful." A brief pause, and then the par son resumed : "Biother Welton, with you are needed but few words. You are more a man than brother Brackett. Do you not believe he has a good heart '" "Yes." "I wish you could show how true I and good your heart is." F "Parson i" 1 "I wish you could show him that c you possess true Christian courage." "Parson, what do you mean ?" E "I wish you had the courage to I mieet and conquer him." "How would you have me do it ?" i "Firs t, conquer yourself. You are i not offend(ed ?" "No. Go on." And the. eupon the good old I ei gyman drow up his chlair and laid i hisa hand upon his friend's arm and 0 told him just what lie would have h bim do. He spoke earnestly, and I with tears in his eyes. "Brother Welton, have you the I heart and courage to do this ?" The farmer arose and took two or three turns across the floor, and c finally said : "I will do it." t * * * * * *. On the following day, toward the I middle of the afternoon, Peter r Brackett stood in the door way with f his head bent. He was thinkin"f whether he should harness his horse I and be off before dinner, or whether C he would wait until afternoon. He C could not even put his mind to ordi I nary chores.e "I wonder," ho said to himself, 1 "how the triaul will come out !" I 5'pose Wel ton'll bire old Whitman ' to:take his case. Of course thme oflice'll be crowvded. Tom Frost I says it's noised ever'ywhore, and that overybody'll be there. Plague take it ! I wish" His meditations were interrupted I by appr'oaching steps, and on louk ing up he beheld neighbor Welton. "Good morning, Peter." Brackett gaspeod, and finally an swerod: "Good morning"- though rather cruisily. Welton went on, frankly and poeas- t antly : "You will go to the villago to day ?" "I s'51pose so."t "I have been summoned by Jus- t tice Gar field to be there, also, but t really, Peter, I don't want to go. r One of us will be enough. Garfield I is a fair mran, anid when he knows the fats ho will do what is right. Now, you can state them as well as I can, 1 and whlatover his decision is I will abide by it. You can tell him that I I shot your (log, nd that your dog I had dlone no harm:" "Do you acknowledge that old Carlo never harmed you-that lie never troubled your sheep '?" in qui red Bracket t, with startled sur pr'ise.t "It was not his nature to (10 harm to anything. I am sure he would soon1er1 have srved one of my sheep I than have killed it." "Then wvhat did you shoot him I for ?" "That is what I am coming at, Peter. You will toll thme justice that 1 I had lost several of my sheep- t killed by dogs-that I had just been taking the skin from a valuable I wether, that had been so killed and managed -that I was on my way f'rm my house, with my gun im my t hgnJ, when I saw a dog come out I from my shed(. My first thought n was that he had come from the shep' fold. It was almost dark, and ri could not see plainly, 'tell th p justice that I had no idea it w a: y~our dog. I never dreamed that until Tomn Frost told me." a "How ? You didn't know it 'c< mydoug?" Is "Peter, have you thought so hard of me as to think that I could know ingly and willingly have harmed that grand old dog. I would - soo)er have shot one of Ihy oxen." "But. you didn't tell me so at first. Why didn't you ?" "Because you came up so-so suddenly" "Oh, pahaw I" cried Brackett, with a stamp of his foot. "Why don't you spit it out as it was ? Say I came down upon you so like a hornet that you hadn't a chance to think. I was a blamed fool, that's what I was." "And I was another, Peter ; if I hadn't been I should have told you the truth at once, instead of firing up. But we will understand it now. You can see the justice" "Justice be hanged I John, hang it all! What's the use I There, lot Ls11 end it so 1" From her window Mrs. Brackett had seen the two men come together, md she trembled for the result. By md-by she saw her husband, as bhough flushed and excited, put out liis hand. Mercy I was he going to strike his neighbor? She was ready to cry out with affright, the 3ry being almost upon liar lips, when ahe beheld a scene that called forth rejoicing instead. And this was vhat she saw: She saw these two strange men rrasp one another by the hand, and she saw big bright tears rolling lown their cheeks, and -she knew hat the fearful storm had passed, md that the warm sunshine of love aid tranquility would coine again. QUELL ING A MUTINY. low Commodore Ammen Did It--A Good Story Well Told. Washington Cor. Chicago Time4. From all accounts the captain of a nan-of war must be a very unhappy >eing. He is grand, you know, but to must be lonesome. He has his ieparate cabin, dines alone, reads lone, and when he ascends to the leck all of the officers at once- cross o the other side and leave him one ide unobstructed. He could not )a more let alone if he had the mall pox. Officers claim that this mibonding rigidity of behavior is lone one of the most potent ele nents of discipline with a crew. rhe crew of a man-of-war iis lar oly nade up of reckless, .dange ous Lien. In numbV %%IIIAO) i lways be able to seize upon the mnall arms of the ship and oror >ower the officers and turn the essel into a piratical cruiser. To :cep down a gang of reckless men of this class the slightest infraction da rigid discipline cannot be passed over unnoticed. A story told of .ommodore Ainnion, of the navy, lie inventor of the steam ram, llustrates how important is un icsitating action in case of a autiny. So severe are the penalties or mutiny, and so closely are the non held in check, that mutinies of ate have become very rare. At the lose of the war Amnimen was the aptain of a Pacific mail steamer. lo had shipped as a part of his roew a lot of soldiers, men who hiad >eenI sailors before the war, but had erved since that time in the army. L'hey were a reckless, bad lot. ilmiosst before the steamer had oft New York it was evident that ,here was going to be trouble. rhese sailors flaunted at the grub 'mnishied them and aid they must myve us good as the cabin passen ~ers. One day the afair' cuhmninuit di by this gang formig and coming ft. When they ente.'ed the saloon hey wvere headed by two despera toes wvho hal intitc4 the mutiny. Lt their appearance several army >flkcers on boaid volunteered heir services to Ammnen. He banked them mildly but said he v'ould not need tueir' help. He valkced forward languidly toward he mutineers, and without giving hem an opplortuniy to say a word .ook ouit his watch mnd said : "Now, non, I want you t< go right back to he fokesel. I wil give you one ninute to go." Ammen has the appearance of a >enevolent old (bacon who would veep with p~ain er the necessity of alling a fly. Hs voice was as soft .s if his mrouthi pas lined with p)lush 'e'vet, and as uweet as a maiden's vhisper when Adolphus first en-1 ircles her tlmil waist. W~hen he sail simply to the men, 'Now, I wnntyou to go right back o the fokesel:' the leaders gr inned. Phis muti#y was to succeed too asily. Sk dtring the minute they cofted at-the old man. At pre isely sixty seconds after the ox >iration of Ammon's remark he aised a pistAl andl shot one of the 'ingbiadei's dead. "WVill you go >ackto the !okesel ?" said Ammen to ho Aecond ringleader, pleasantly. Pheman hesitated ; a flash! a re >ors, and lie too fell (lead. 'Je deadly persistent blandness if kmmen's composure drove terror hpugh the ranks of the mutinoers. 'fey went forward, and there was' iver any more trouble. This 'ompt action alone saved a very! chi ship1 andl a large number of j resengers from plunder, outrage id naurder. Judge Mackey has issued an eder directing that all the Stateo 'ims in Lancaster county shall be lleted and turned over to the heriff KOENIG8TEIN. About thirty miles from Dresden, where the Elbe flows between the Saxon hills and the Bohemian valleys, where the valley is scarco a mile wide, and is hard pressed fqW room to accommodate the winding stream, the railway and the splendid ma cadamized road which, with the river, for centuries has formed the only avenue of communication between fertile Saxony and its Bohemian neighbors, nature, in siome volcanic throe, has heavel up three immense sandbtone rocks, blocking up the narrow valley still more, and frown ing down upon it like giant conque; ors of a subject land. The highest of these rocks is known as Lilienstein, is about two thirds of a mile from the river, and though overlooking all the others, yet the impossibility of obtaining a sufficient water supply, has prevent ed its being fortified Pfafferstein, the lowest of the throe, is also use less for military purposes, for the same reason. But the gods of war must have planted Koenigstein just where it stands, on the water's edge, where it scowls grimly down on eit! 1r side from an attitude of nine hundred and twenty one feet of sheer precipice, locking up railroad, river and highway with the' bronze and iron keys of its guns, and saying to the invader from either side, "Thus far shalt thougo,and no further." It makes its debut in history, as a fort, in the thirteenth century, being then in the possession of the kings of Bohemia, from whom it passed, by cession, to the 'margraves of Meissen, the predecessors of the present rulers of Saxony. Still it could not stand a siege from lack of water, until after foi ty years of labor, the splendid well (as great a wonder as the fort itsolf) wais du" and blasted through the solid rocit to a depth of six hundred and sixty foot, where it struck water. Then its owners know they had a "aure rock of defence," and for years they lbored, howing, blasting and fash ioning the great rock into bastions, curtains, butteries, ditches, scarps and demi-lunes, excavating tunnels and casemates, and lfninl'y fashion:ng the work into a tremendous bas t+;nVIariln' I with wansl1 tivo hundred fout high, and a circuit of a mile and a half around, enclosing seve al acres away up almost in the clouds, with barracks and prisons, restau rants and magazines, lookout towers and royal lodgings, and a great grove of trees, three hundred years old, wherein deep shade and solemn se clusion reign. And it is now the proud Gibraltar of Central Germany. When distant rumors of war fright en the denizens of the palace at Dresden, away go the pri,-cless treasures of the f.tnous green vaults, with queens and princesses more precious still, to its impregnable guard. After 1866, when theGorman Em pire was reconstituted, this fortress was, for a short time, garrisoned by Prussian soldiers, but latterly it has been garrisoned by Saxon arms. Two hundred artillery, engineers and infantry, with as many n.ore civilians andl women, and p~rovisions and munitions of war for six years maike up the total of the dwellers on this lofty rock. A carriage road zigzags up a pr tion of the rock, at an angle of forty five degrees, with breathing p~laces every one hundi ed yards, wvhich r allow the horses to rest. From the point where this road ceaises, thet visitor, whether friendly or other wise, must climb up winding walks, ' undler arches and across ditches,t everywhere exposed to half a dozen vertical and flanking fires, until at ' hIst he crosses a drawbridge and e pase undler a sp)iked p)ortalis, j which will vivi Ily reiall the tales af medieval romn meo. Just within is the gurrd-honso, where, for the sum of one dollar, an ntelligent gnide caiin be p~rocuredl, i who will show overything. 0Only v yno must not smoke, an I on no iccount speak to the prisoners. The fist object of interost is, t iaturally, the fatmoums well, whose a tremendouis depth is mude approc'a j yle by the simple device of holding~ a i nirror obliquely to the sun, thuns r :,rowving a ray of light on the little n gleaming speck of water far, far >olow. This wvell is pumped~ by a steani, and yields ninety barrels a 1j lay. Coming out of the wcllh'ouso- b~ )lacards in various tongues greet y he eye, cautioning visitors not to a apeak to the prisoners. One would a upp~oso, there wvas some strange h~ ascmnation in the conversation of b~ he prisoners to require such repeat. i, ad cautions. g From the ramplarts, whose circuit akes about two honrs, magnificent >anoramas delight the eye on every tl iide. The Elbo looks like a tiny t ,hread of silver, while the steamers e m its bosom, the cars on the railroad a rack, and the houises in the neigh- o >orhood look like toys. And there e re winding highways, like yellow s -ibbons on the green surface of the r leids and woods, with hero and ii ~brre a tiny villag, while in the far listance the geam of Dresden's iplres can barel be perceived in sa he golden sunlight. And the ram- h 4 parts themselves are no less objects of interest, with their groat bronze muzzlo-loading guns, rich with royal crests and armoriaal designs ; the hoistways, projecting far over the walls and worked by steam, where with are hoisted the guils and other material of war, from the base far below ; and especially the wicked looking little brass cannon called "Delpessions Lantte," which can be raised by machinery so as to Are an algiost vertical shot from the ram parts to the foot of the rock below. Within the onclosure may be soon the boar pit, where in olden timo, the Kings of Saxony kept pot bears, the palace, the quaint old garrison church built in 1608, and store houses and magazines four and five hundred years old. There are also strong prisons here, from which, however, throo French prisoners escaped, by lowering, themselves over the ramparts vit1 a rope mado of towels and uinderclothing, to a rift in the rock, from whenco they scram bled down to the bottorm, aided by friendly bushes, and so to the Boho mian hills and safoty. A fourth was less fortunate. Missing his foot ing lie fell and broke his back, lingor ing m great agony for - twenty-four weeks, and dying just two wOks after peace had been declared and all his fellow-prisoners had gone home. Altogether, the great fortress is an object whose interest will well repay any traveller in Europe for a visit, whether it be considered as a great work of ongineering, a won derful oeffart of naturo, or a lookout, from whos lofty height the sur rounding country mi-ty be advanta geously oterlooked. W'halouale Mtrimony. A very curious procession took place reccitly, says the New York AMerfcury, on East Second street. It colimtied of thirty-two young rtoiiplos, all of then dressed in the national costumo of the Bohemian Ozechs. The mon wore short jickets, richly omnliroidored in rod silk, and the girls white skirts and 1rimisan jackets, with caps of green velvet, emibroi(lorol in gold and iilver. The procession, which was headed by a small band and by a venerable prelate in his full vest nents, moved through Second street to Avenue A, and then through Essex str oe to Broome street, whore in the largo hall of the building No. 287 a ceromony such is has never been witnessed before 1n Now York took place. It was mply a wholesale wedding of ,hirty-two young Czechs with thirty-two buxom lassies from the and of Nepomuk, the patron saint >)f Bohemia. There is probably no !ountry in the world where the vedding ceremony is looked upon with more religious awe than in B3ohemia. The Czech colony in this :ty', olsisting mostly of men and .onlon engaged in the manufacture i if c'gars, or in glass-blowing, has I 'ceenily received strong accessions, >rincip.hly from Prague and the mrrounding country. Notwith itan ding the prostration of husiness, hesoe Czechis have flourished more han any other element of our oreign p)opulation. They are very 1 bhrifty, sob~er and industrious, andi hey say that therc is not a sinigle 3'henmian pauper in the city.i somie of the female cigar-makers ofi hat nationality have relatively large uRs in the savings b inks. Thley 4 ~re a very energetic class of females< mnd by no moans unattractive in >rsonal appearance. There being 'o priest here able1 to perform the muptial rites in the Czech language, I ,bo young coup~les that were readyi 0 got mnarrieclulbed together and1 4 ent for the Right Rev. Blishop -{abeheek from Prague, to marry hem all at once. V/len the bishop rrivod here, a singumlar compllica 10o1 occurioed. The numb~er of onphos that had sent for him was 1 mind to ho thlirty-three, a very I mnlucky number, and bene1c it was< letermined that only thirty-two 1 ouples should be married. Theyr row lots as to which coulo should I oc exclujed, and the hiapless~ lovers rho were selected manifested their Iisappointment in a very lively1 innor. Tme bishop consoled < hienm by3 promising to marry them c oon. Thie wedding ceremonies on kroomo street woero quite inmpress-e oe. After the service had been t s.id the older piortion of the fe- I ale audience, among whom there s 're mniny mothers of tihe b~rides It nd b:i jlegrooms, buirst into staLrt 'r ng lamentations, while the grooms t >Okhod unconcerned. and the brides s ushingly droppecd their eyes. a Vhlin the pirehate had blessed( them, ni alt and b~road were handed roundl 1. nd partaken of by everybody. Tfhe a ridegroomns did not kiss their o rides, the Czechs considering it fi idecent even for husebands to kiss 1: 2eir wives ini public. The latest arrangement to insure i, 2e honesty of car conductors is ao irnstile. The front platform of the n rr is closed entirely;i no person is llowed to ride on the back platform, ach being compelled to enter the er through the turnstlil, whiche bands in front of the doorway, and agisters the nuumber of those pass ig through. Mr. H. T, Ituatin of Abbeville seidentally shot himself in the wd laat week A Now Route from Europe to China. Should further explorations of the routo from Europe to China, via the Arctic Ocean and the Yen esei River, noross Siberia, as laid down by Prof. Nordenskjold, of Sweden, prove its entire practicability, a great stride will havo boon made both in comner mercial and in geographical -science. The distance from England to Vol gino, at the month of the Yenesei River, is about 3,000 miles, and from Volgino to Pokin, in a direct line, about 8,000 more. The pres ent route from England to Pekin, via the Mediterranean Sea and Sues Canal, is about 12,000 miles. The Yonesei River has its source in the Altai Mountains, which form the boundary between China and Russian Siberia. It flows almost duo north into the Sea of Kara, which is distin guished from the waters of the Arc tic Ocean morely by the Islands of Nova Zombla and the capes of the main land, which appear to partially inclose it. The distance betwoon tho hoadwaters of the Yenesei and the sources of the Amoor Iiver, which. flows into the Gulf of Tartary and the Japan Sea, is about 150 miles The navigation of these rivers would have to be done by light-draft steam. era, while the short overland route of 150 miles might soon be "all rail' and resonant with fast trains. As the routo lies through Russian tor ritory, that country of course is m1. ter of the 1tuilat-ion. At reent it, large proportion o( the Rullssian and Chimn, tOa tradd is cirried on overland by caravans, whli tho ne12w ri' itv, if developed as uggesto:1, wuhl ren der obsoloto. Fromu a political poiln of view tho proposed route is of much importance in its bo:ui ing- upon the Rusiman and EngAlih poss.sions in the distant Etat, and may inl trodneo now sources of tronblo bet.wuji Lhouo powerful rivalm. * A Wowan'i Hallucination. The London Xew of Octobor '16 says: The newspapors yor;terday contained a stoiry of whnt soems to .be a caso bf solf-dknial, aid raro indeed in character, but muoh more elaborate than is ordimui'y fonid under similar con. itions. 1b is the story of what purported to be a confession of murder, but which appears to have boon a confossion mado under the influence of a ebin plote, halluoination- On Saturday evening, as the facts are reported, a %voll dressed woman, not apparently in a state of disordered intellect, ipoke to a police officer in one or the streets of London, and told him that she had coinmitter a murder. She was taken at once to a police tation, and there she gave a long md muinte account of the murder vhici she said she had committed. 3he described horself as a nurse in mno of the Metropolitan work houses, md declarod that for a lon.- timo iho hiad been fillod with feelings of latred and revengo against one of 'he matrons, that she had watched or and found an.opportunity, knock iA the matron don, shtunned her, and ;hon killed her hv cutting her throat vith a razi r. A fter this tha so"~ acca~ ning woman Maia Fiho wrppd Lt iody in hemr bed-clothles and hid it mduor her bed. This dhone, she got a pass for leave, and she intended to naike her oscapoe, b)ut afterward she hiought there w~ould( be no chance !or her safety, and1( she b)eeamo strick mn by remorse, aind accordingly she letermmned upon gi vinlg horself up, rhe story, grim andu ghastly as it ras, seemed coherent, and had noth nig in it that could he calleod inlcredli >le. The p)olicol accordlingly made natant inquiries, andl they found at mDc( that in one rather important woint it was incorrect. The womana 11id( to he muhrdered was alive and yell. In the room of the alleged nurdoross there wvas found, indeed, long bundle or roll under the bed; mt thme bundle on being opened wvas 0ound( to contain no huumnan body, miiy a bl)OItor. The woman who ecunsed herself was examined by a Iaedical man, but he appears to have >con unable to give any1 (decidedt pinion at once as to whether she vas sane or insane-that is, as to rhiother her condition, jiudgod wvith mut regard to the story she tok)7 oun be considere I that oif m idness,~ flhoremains, theorofore, for the pieA. nt, in churgo of the p'olico. Should lie r'ep)orts which we hmave read, anud rom which, o.f course, wo draw our ole knowledge of the facts, I urn out a he ae(ourato, andl the woimaln 'rovedl irailly to have been thmo vie im of a (dOhirionl, hor' story will ho a omowhat (curiouls c'haplter in the trango and paninI chronie of mrbid human self-deptioni. Poer~ '1p) not, the least curious thine bout it is that~ it, has1 bJoon anticip'it d far more oftn in fi'ithm~ thu it, so) ur as our kcnowv~edge goes, inl real fe. Thero was a f tal boiler ox plos m at E'rly Station in Pic kons )mnty last week, b~y which two nen lost their lives, and others 'ore wvounded. Thc accidhent was 111ed( by the bursting of the boiler fa stationry engine, bl6M t mtiro machino'into fragmnt.0 afortunate man was " bklr leoes. No part of the engine ~eul found whore it originally Mbod. Ohesnatii are plentiful thi*eo Pickens.