The Manning times. (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, March 31, 1886, Image 1
VOL. I[ MANNING. CLARENDON COUNTY, S. C, WEDNESDAY, MARCH
A Land of Gladness.
How softly flow. among Sonomna's bills.
The ice-cold springs, the mecrry-hearted rills,
Fragrance of pine my wandering fancy thrills,
Till, even througrh the city's no(ise-built wals.
1 hear the chant of sudden water'falls.
Once more, through cedar boughs the black
bird calls.
There are wild cliffs onm Mendeeinlo's shore,
.And well I know the seawveed on the floor
Of hidden eaves, aind many a marvel more.
Pacilic's heart bath legends wise and old,
Go thou, and wait in voices manifold
When storms are loose, to hear the story told.
Again I see gray mountains purely clad
with g'eaming snow, vast peaks forever clad
Such heights as these the elder singers had.
.Again one hails the sunlight's burst of foam
On Lassen's peaks on Shasta's snowy dome.
Where lilies bloom beneath the glacier's home.
But best the redwood shade, the p:-ace it
brings.
Where fancies rise as crystal mountaiu
Beneath tall trees; and dear each bird that
sings
In rainless summers: dear the ferns which
grow
By cool Navarro, where sea-breezes blow
And white azaleas touch the river's flow.
--Charles Howard Shinn, in the Century for
February. _______
A SOLDIER'S TRUST.
BY DAVID LOWRY.
"How we will live Heaven only
knows! All is dark now."
Mrs. Paine sat down suddenly and
lifted a hand to her eyes. Her daugh
ter, Caroline. a bright, pretty girl of
seventeen, noted among her associates
for her energy and resolution, caught
her breath suddenly. She was going to
cry, but resolved not to yield now when
her mother was overcome with dread of
the future.
The world had been the aver.' s
world to Ellen Paine. She had enjoyed
its sweets till the war camne and robbed
her of her husband for years. There
were some jolts in life's joutney when
he came home. He was not as strong
as when he went away-lost time, and
of choice changed his vocation. Still
content sweetened the things the gods
provided the Faines through sickness
and idleness; the increasing' family and
growing responsibilities alIl were ac
cepted eheerfully till one day the sun
seemed to drop out of the firmament.
Andrew Paine was bronught home un
conscious, a terribl'e accident had hap
pened; in twenty-four hours Mrs. Pamne
'was a widow.
,Time moved on. Providence raised a
friend to her in her brother-in-law, who
found work for his nephew, and thus
kept the roof over Mrs. Paine's head.
But death claimed the son, and then
the burden beo'an to fall on Caroline.
The mother s~ove to lighten it-to make
the girl's life as joyous as she could. It
'was a dull life at best; the grind began
when she fell ill with rheumatism. The
future looked dark, but the uncle still
turned the cloud aside until the silver
linino' shone again.
Suldenly trade stopped. Thea it
really seemed as if all the world stop
ped, so far as Mrs. Paine and her daugh
ter were concerned. The establishment
where Caroline worked ceased opera
tions unexpectedly. Mrs. Paine was
unable to more a hand that month.
Would they ever, even if work offered
again, be able to catch up-to repay
wnat they owed? These wei queries
mother and daughter asked themselves
an hundred times.
Before the question was answered.
fate-remorseless fate-swept awaty their
last hope. The- uncle, Arthur Paine.
was summuoned to his final aiccounit
with more swiftness than his brother.
The two women-one suffering, in
broken health; the other hungering for
joya she saw herself for'ever shut out of
-looked at each otiher fearfully. Tihey
did not dare to breathe their fears. The
mother's heart ached for her child, the
daughter's for' her amether'.
But the world wrings answ~ers from
all. T1he day caeur when the mother
and daughter had :o speak plainly, and
when it came, it 1fon thme mother as
a. ba be. '
"M.othmer, tuere nmy be a w'ay'," said
Caroline Paine, iho.mmily. Mrs. Paine
shook her head, still keeping her eyes
co~ered.
"I'm sure mother-wait until Mr.
Brooks conies honme. Then I will tell
you what I mean."
'Mr. Brooks was well up in years--an
10hd bachelor who roomed on the same
floor with the Paines. He was a clerk,
with a varied exucrience. To Caroline
hie was a walking eneyelopedia. An
hour later, Mr. llr'ooks, in response to
Caroline's request, stepped noiselessly
into the room the Paines occupied.
'Mr. Brooks," said. Caruoline, briskly,
"I want to ask you about soldiers'
claimis. You know what soldiers are
entitled to?"
. "I ought to. I was chief clerk for a
claim agent eight years, and five years
in the Pension Office here." Mr. Brooks
wasted no words. He sat down, look.
ing inquiringly at the earnest face be
fore him.
-"Then you can help us. Mr. Brooks.
I want you to sell the land my father
or my miother is entitled to. Father
never sold it. did he. mother?"
Mrs. Paine looked bewildered. "What
land?"
"Why, the 160 acres I used to hear
father say" was lying out West waiting
for him.'
"0!" said Mr. Brooks--"that's all a'
-here he checked himself. The girlm
face fell. Why not soften the disap
pointmlent. "You see'-there reall~
never was anything in that. I mean-'
'-You don't mean father sold hiu
elaim?"
Mr. Brooks couldn't invent a lie, o:
he would have done it. He blurted ou1
the truth: "I've no doubt your fathe
thought he was entitled to the land--'
'-Why, Mr. Brooks, I've heard hin
say, time and again, the Governmen
owed him the land: that he would sel
his claim when the time came if he evel
was-was, as we are rnow-hard press
'-I remember now; so he did," sai<
Mrs. Paine. "Caroline is right." Mrs
Paine spoke cheerfully.
"-The truth is the Ghovernmient nevel
really promised the land."
"Whv. Mr. Brooks, I've heard of so]
diers selling their land warrants," sai<
Caroline.
"So they did, Miss; that's just where
the mistake was made. You see, before
the civil war, the Government gavy
soldiers land warrants; the volunteer
were led to believe they'd getthe same.
"Yes, and pay in gold." said Mrs
ang
"Yes-pay in gold. But they were
paid in paper money. worth forty to
sixty cents on the dollar, when gold see
sawed tip and down. It was a swindle
on the soldier, but a big thing it bis
proved for the bondholdier."
"And mother has no claim to any
thing?"
"t an inch of lan(l."
Caroline thought rapidly. - "Then,
since you know the law, she' is entitled
to pension money. Everybody knows
my father lost his health in the army."
"Did he ever apply for a pension?"
"He was too independent to do that,"
said Mrs. Paine, wearily.
"Well, if there never was anything
done about it. it is too late now. Is his
doctor living?"
"Dr. Hamilton is dead-he was our
physician for twenty years."
No case," said Brooks.
"Is there no way-no hope in any di
rection?"
Brooks pondered. It was disagree
able, but the truth was best in this case.
"I don't see a glimmer of hope. Miss
Paine-only disappointment. If your
father had been wounded-lost an arm
or leg-but. you see, dying so long after
the war-making no sign-doctors dead
-it's a case debarred, as I might say."
Caroline's brows contracted involun
tarilv. She looked at Brooks steadily.
revolving new thoughts in her mind.
"If a man lost an arm, and is in good
health and can clerk just as well as ever
he could-"
Brooks anticipated her. -If he has
an income of ten thousand a year. and
only had his big toe hurt, he gets a pen
sion. I know people who draw pensions
for less."
-But a man whose health was bro
ken-who couldn't show any wound
and-"
"Precisely. Miss Paine. A complica
tion of diseases carries a man off. It
don't matter if he went into the army
as healthy as any man who never bad a
pain or ache, or never was in bed a day
in his life-if the doctors were sure the
service ruined his health, there's lots of
cases where its hard to prove it-they
don't prove it in such cases, as a rule. If
there was any doctor who could swear
to the facts-"
Mrs. Paine and her daughter shook
their heads slowly.
"Thank you, Mr. Brooks."
How Brooks managed to get out of
the room he never knew himself. The
picture the mother and daughter pre
sented at that moment was stamped on
his memory forever. He thought so
much about them that, instead of going
to the theatre, he went to a cigar store
where he was in the habit of meeting
sonic friends, and, in a very discreet
manner, set about collecting a little
monev "for a very worthy object."
The next day, at noon, a tap sounded
on Paine's door. Caroline opned it on
the instant, and, seeing Mr. Brooks,
blushed, He spoke quickly, as if he
had a great press of business on hand.
"Miss Paine, a few friends-of your
father's, I mean-they knew him very
well, sent me with this and their com
pliments."
Here he broke down. Caroline's eyes
seemed to read his very soul. Brooks
wanted to back out. Instead he ad
anced quickly to a small table. where
Mrs. Paine was seated, deposited a bank
note on the table, and, bowing to Caro
line, withdrew so quickly she had not
time to interc-ont the movement.
Mrs. Paine turned to look after him.
Her elbow swept the bank note off the
table. The draught caused by the
quickly closed door Brooks pulled to
after him swept the note uinder the open
grate. Caroline sprang~ forward with a
smothered cry. She was not a moment
too quick. A. live coal ignited the note.
She had the presence of mind to crush
it in her hand, at the risk of a broad
blister. When sihe opened her hand
slowly, one-half the note had disap'
peare'd. The half in her hand showed
that it had been a te:-dollar note. She
burst into tears. It seemed as if mis
fortunes would never end.
'What is it. Caroline?"
"He gave us tea dollars, and it is
lost."
She wept passionately.
--'It would have paid what we owe im
the store, a month's rent, and left us
two dollars."
"Burned-b'urned. Caroline?"
There wvas a world of anxiety, of
dread, in Mrs. Paine's voice. Caroline
extended her burned palm, on which
lay the half of the note.*
-It is not all lost. I read of ways te
gt money made right, I'm sure. some
"where. ~You can getfic for it, may
be."
"Yes; but that would just pay th(
store bill. And then what could we doi
But we'll see."
She dried her eyes bravely, laid the
burned note carefully away, and re
solved to make the most of it the nlex'
morning.
She was dressed, and on her way tc
the office of the "Customs of the Port,'
whither she had been directed, long be
fore the oflice was opened. After walk
ing an hour on the street, she returned,
toC be told that it was a legal holiday,
so no business would be done that day.
As she turned away, she stumbled upox
Mr. Brooks. Would she tell him? Noi
for herself-but her mnother.
In ten words Brooks had the story.
He expressed regret. reticeted, bid lie:
wait at a drug store, and hastened to "
friend," he said. He wvas abseint tif teer
or twenty minutes. When he returned,
he handed her a crisp $5 note. talked
about the weather: everything bul
money, (ot the buirned niote, and bad<
her go-day in his brisk wayv.
Caroline returned iome, calling at:
grocer's on the way. and purchasing:
few necessities.--enouh to keep bodj
and soul together az littlk longer. As
from that hour their for'tunes unproved
somehow wvork came to her. atnda
physician kindly interested himself ir
Ms. Paine's cast-. to a de'gree that re
Istored her health. My story has ii
more to do with them. further than t<
state that the Grand Army of the Re
public did for them what the Gov'ern
ment should have done. I will follov
Brooks and the burned note.
The next day Brooks dropped int<
the U. S.-the great United States De
pository, deliberately recited so much o
the facts as cemcerned the gentleman1,
Sclerk, and was told the note, the wholl
Snote, would be repiace'd. He had Mis
Caroline Paine make affidavit to tha
fact, the burned note was forwarded2
and in two weeks rooks carried to he
another $>: thu tih- P-!;, -s 11ad the
benefit of the entire :a::.::t tIe litle
knot at the ci-rar .-toi made up for her.
The ineident i:'h, a dtp.; im1pression
on Brooks. H' mdlered ver it, and
pendered until h'e ;ro to talking about
it. Froi talkhinr to hi friends, hw got
to talking- about it in the itst. Finally
he was inspired-I CanI think oi no other
as fitting -to write a lee:::r, which he
has been deliverin-r with iuch e:rnest
ness and un'quivocai su.cess all over
the State. Hie begins witi ::inc's vol
untarv four yearss serv ivv. exi. - the
swindile involved in the silece oncern
ing the land warrants vhen iien signed
muster-rolls, recites the slow p.iv-day
experiences, call& up months of waiting
by wives and children. co:iprs the
I purchasing power of the soldiers' pay
with the purchasing power of a sIve
dollar to-day, burns- s ges the bond
holders until there i:, nothing left of
them, and winds up with the ineidlent
of the burnt note which the Government
was honest enough to re)ltee. le
makes out very clearly--proves to every
man within sound of his voice or logie,
that the systeli-the fiiallei:,l system -
the Goveriiment 11 purn.ol. i; exactly
as if every note given in paym:ieit to, a
soldier had been burned at oi ent -
burned a quarter, third. half or live
pi?,hths. as the price of gold wl'nt
and down.
What is very curious, althou~th sone
people say behind his back that Brooks
is a blatherskite, nobody has ever had
the courage to tackle him face to face.
An Electrical Engineer.
There are two roads to take if you
wish to become an electrical engineer.
Although this occuna tion of electrical
engineering is so new, there are three
colleges in our country where the theo
retical part xt the profession is taught,
namely: The stevens Institute of Tech
nology, at Hoboken, New Jersey: the
University of Pennsylvania; and the
Massachusetts Institute are the best
known. If a young man has gone
through the theoretical and partially
practical training to be had in either of
these institutions, he does not require a
great deal of actual experience in doing
the work itself to fit him for undertak
ing altmost any task pertaining to the
calling.
But sore boys may not be able to
spare the time <'r pay the money for this
collegiate part of the training. In that
case, they endeavor to find emllployment
in one of the factories of the great com
panies I hare mentioned. To obtain
admission. however, they must be bright,
they must give -ood promise in the
tsite thev have fo, mechanical pursuits,
as well as in their habits, that they are
suited for the profession they seek to en
ter. Havine obtained an entrance,
they begin as ordinary employes, do
ing the simplest kind of work or even
drudgery; then they are transferred
from one department to another, learn
ing a little at each step they take; until,
finally, they have a good knowledge of
the ianufacturing branch of the pro
fession.
From there they should go to the la
boratory, where they obtain the scien
tific knowledge of the business. To
know how the different parts are put to
gether is not of itself sufficient; they
must be able to tell why they are put to
gether in that particular way; it is just
that knowledge which makes them elec
trical engineers.
Then they are sent out as assistants
to the various electric-lighting stations
or are temporarily placed in charge of
plants which have just been established,
and which some ama'ur engieer is
learning how to run. Finally they may
be put in charge of a bghting station,
that is, a builing from whichi the light
ing power is furnished for the lamps in
the immediate neighborhood; and last
l, they may become miembers of the
engineering corps, and put up the elec
tric lights for some p~eople in the man
ner f have described.-Froml "'Ready~
for Business." by George J. Manson, in,
St. Nicholas for February.
A California Lizard's Queer Trier.
"There are some curious eases among
the geckos," said a Los Angeles country
naturalist. "Here is one (dead that is
called the leaf-tail gecko. You see the
tail bulges out soon after leaving the
body and assumes a leatf or arrow shape;
hencee the name of the animal. Now,
when the little creature is chased you
will see it dodge around a limb and
hold up the cuirious leaf-like tail. That
is all you can see, and so naturally,
would think it a part of the tree itself.
But the lizard has a more remarkable
method of escape yet. We will imagine
that yon have tried to pltuck the leaf.
The animal drops clunisily to the ground
and darts away among the rocks, where
it attracets the attention of some of the
hawks that are forever prowling around
Immediately a chase ensues; the bird
gains, and is finally about to pounce
upon its prey, when all at once two liz
ards appear, one making off, while the
other dances up and down into the air
and alonoe the ground in a mysterious
way, so tiat the astonished bird stops
and looks. In the meantime the origi
nal lizard escap~es: the other, that is
really the tail, soon becomes quiescent.
You see the geeko has the faculty of
throwinge off its tail whlen hard pressed,
and, whd'e the pursuers attention is
drawn to the squirming member, the
animal itself escapes."
"But it loses its tai!?"' suggested tIhe
Ire)orter.
"Only for a time. T1hey can repro
duce this organ, aind curiously enough,
sometmes twvo tails are prioduiced in
stead of one.--Satn Francisco Call.
Two colored brothers fell out in the
church about a small matter. Thue of
fending brother went to the offended
one andi said: "Brudder, the Lord has
foriven mie, and won't you?" The
offnded brother replied: "You go bring
de Lord's certifica~te that he has forgiven
you, den I will see about de matter.
John de B:aptist required de Jews te
bring a certificate of der repentance
'fore he wvould baptize umn."--ewmna
S(Ga.) Hecrald.
T. V. Powderlyv, general master work
man of the Knights of Labor, says: "1
Severy laborer and every manufacturei
swould read (daily a goo-d paper and keel
Spostd on topies of the time I feel cer
.t,, t.w w-ould be les tronble."
MIS H1AND WASN'T STEADY.
Nor His Eye Quick, but When His Gun
Went Of the Boys Felt Sheepish.
An Equinunk, Pa., correspondent
writes: John Finley Teeple. known :dl
over northern Pennsylvania as Uncle
Fin, was 79 years old his last birthday.
For more than sixty years he hunted
and trapped from the Delaware to the
Allegheny. and never missed a season
until two years ago. Then he made up
his mind to take a rest, more because
game was getting scarce than because
he was tired. His two boys. Lije and
Sim. could take care of all that was left,
he said. From that time until a few
days before the past deer season closed
he hadn't touched his gun-a gun that
he claims has 'ain low bear and deer
by the thousand. One morning recent
ly he got out of bad and said to his son
Lije:
"Lije, I'm goin' down in Pike county
an' knock over deer before I hole up fur
(00(1.
Lije and the rest of the family tried to
change Uncle Fin's mind, for they
thought lie was too old to go tramping
through the woods on a deer hunt. He
was dletermined, however, and so his
bovs. Lije and Sim, tixed themselves up.
and got ready to go with the old hun
ter. They went down on the Mast Hope
ridge, twenty-five miles from home.
Sim drove for deer, and Uncle Fin and
Lije stood on the runways.
"Father," said Lije, "Iguess I'll stay
close by you, for your hand isn't as
steady 'as. it was 'fifty years ago, and
vour eve isn't as quick. So 111 keep
closc bv vou, and if Sim senls a deer
along and you miss it I'll knock it
over. '
"Ye will, hey?" exclaimed the old
man, indignantly. "My han' hain't ez
stidr z'twere fifty years ago, hain't
it? 'Xor my eve hain't so quick? Wall,
now, my fresh young Nimrod, you jist
plank verself over on that runway up
vender half a mile or so, an' I'll stay
right whar I be. If a deer comes pitch
in' 'long here 'thin runshot o' me I'll I
show.vu wuther mvlan' haint' ez stid
dy or my eye hiin't ez quick ex they!
usety be.' G'long with ye, an' look out
fur yer own han an' eye!"
"All right," said Lije; "but if you
lose the deer don't blame me."
Lije went reluctantly to the upper
runway. Unicle Fin remained where he
was. Sim went out on the ridge, and
after an half hour or so started a rous
ing buck. It was a good way off, bat
within reach, and he blazed away at it.
It kept right on. It bounded down the
ridge and passed along within good
range of Lije. Lije sent a bullet after it,
but the buck kept right on.
"Blame the luck!' said he. "Now,
just for the old man's contrariness,
we're liable to lose that deer. He
won't be able to see it unless it runs
over him, to say nothing of hitting it."
The buck tore along through the
brush, and was clearing thirty feet at a
jump as it passed Uncle Fin, a hundred
yards away. His eyesight hadn't en
tirelv failed, for he saw the buck. He
drew bead on it, and let "old Betsey"
speak. The buck gave two or three
wild bounds, and fell in the brush.
Uncle Fin didn't move toward it. When
the boys came up Lije asked the old
man what he had shot at.
"A buck, I reckon," said he. "What'd
ou fellers blaze at?"
"A bio buck," said Lije, "but I
didn't reach him. - Which way did he
o from here?"
" "Which wav'd lie go?" said Uncle
Fin, conteiiiptously. -'Ye hieerd me shoot,
didn't ye? If you smart roosters don't
know h'ow toi handle a gun yit nmebbe
e know how to dIress a dead deer. If
ye (do, jist trot over vender by that big
hemlock an' hang up that buck. I'd go
an' do it, but by han' hain't cz stiddy
ez~ 'twere fifty year's ago, ye know, an'
my eyesight's failin'.''
'Lij'e and 51m could hear the old man
laugh alhl the way over' to thle huemlock
tree, and whlen they found the buek ly
ing there, d.ead as a mackeral, and with
one bullet-hoie in i:. and that through
the kidneys, they felt lika btuttin.g their
heads against a'rock. They dre'.ssed the
deer and brought it in without a word.
"It's a ter'blc thing w'en a man gits
old an' shakv an' darn iiigh blind,
hain't it, b~ovs ?" said Uncle Fin, serious
l, as the boyvs stumbled the buck on the
ground at ~his feet. --It's the sappy
oung feller with stiddv nerves that
knocks over the ven'zin. h'ain't it boys?"
Then the wvav this old man laughed
madle the bovs feel more sheepish than
ever. They took the big buick to Mast
Hope, loaded it on the cars, and got
home the same day they wvent away.
But the result of the'hunt' has satistied
Uncle Fin that he made~ a mistake in re
tiring from the chase two vent's ago.
"I see I've go ogootan' give them
boys o' mine a lit tle more trainin'," he
sas. "Why, if I were the side of a
barn I woulln't be 'feerd to stan' up an'
let them boys peg away at me all (lay,
I'll be on the turrt ag'iin next season, ez
usual, an' take 'em in han' an' 1' arn
'em sumphin!"
I I
There are many curious facts in
American history. Three Vice Presi
dents. Gerry, Hendricks and Wilson,
died in November at dates which might
all come in a single week. No Presi
dent, either in or out of office, has (died
in November, though six have died in
July and four in June. Garfield died in
September, Lincoln in April, Taylor in
July and Harrison in April. Two Vice
Presidents have been indicted for trea
son. These were Aaron Burr and John
C. Breckenridge. One Vice President,
John C. Calhoun, resigned his office,
and seven men have held both Presi
dental and Vice Presidlential chairs.
John Adams. Washington's Vice Presi
dent,suceeded him in the White House.
Jefferson, Adams' Vice Presidecnt, did
likewise, anid Martin \'an Buren, one
of Jackson's Vice Presidents, was his
successor. The other four became Pres
ident by death. They were Tyler, Fil
more, Johnson andi Arthur.
The following story, without a vouc'h
e, is told on Mayor Rice: The day after
his election to oflice he was applied to
by a street mendicant for aid. His
Honor asked him what caused his pov
erty. TIhe reply was, "I have fallen
among thieves." "Ah," said the Mayor
reflectively, "so have I." For sweet
charity's sake and the bond that existed
between the two men the pauper received
a marer --SL Paud Pioneer-.Press.
An Old-Time Negro Dance.
From Georze W. Cable's illustrate
paper, in the'February Century, accom
panied by the music of the Creole
dances, we quote the following: "It was
a weird one. The negro of colonial
Louisiana was a most grotesque figure.
He was nearly naked. Often his neck
and arms, thighs, shanks, and splay
feet were shrunken, though, sinewy like
a monkey's. Sometimes it was scant
diet and cruel labor that had made them
so. Even th2 requirement of law was
only that he should have not less than
a barrel of corn-nothing else,-a
month, nor get more than thirty lashes
to the twenty-four hours. The whole
world was crueler those times than now;
we must not judge them by our own.
"Often the slave's attire was only a
cotton shirt, or a pair of pantaloons
hanging in indecent tatters to his naked
waist. The bond-woman was well clad
who had on as much as a coarse chemise
and petticoat. To add a tignon-a Mad
ras handkerchief twisted into a turban
-was high gentility, and the number
of kerchiefs bevond that one was the
measure of absolute wealth. Some were
rich in tignons; especially those who
served within the house, and pleased the
niistrese,or even the master-there were
Hagars in those days.. However, Congo
Plains did not gather the house-servants
so much as the 'field-hands."
"These came in troops. See them;
wilder than gypsies; wilder than the
Moors and Arabs whose strong blood
:nd features one sees at a glance in so
many of them; gangs-as they are called
-gangs and gangs of them, from this
and that and vonder direction; tall,
well-knit Senegalese from Cape Verde,
black as ebony, with intelligent, kindly
eves and long, straight, shapely noses;
andingoes, from the Gambia River,
lighter of color, of cruder form, and a
cunning that shows in the countenance;
whose enslavement seems specially a
shame, their nation 'the merchants of
Africa,' dwelling in towns, industrious,
thrifty, skilled in commerce and hus
bandry, and expert in the working of
metals, even to silver and gold; and
Foulahs, playfully miscalled 'Poulards,'
-fat chickens,-of goodly stature, and
with a perceptible rose tint in the
heeks; and Sosos, famous warriors,
dexterous with the African targe; and
in contrast to these, with small ears,
thick eyebrows, bright eyes, flat, up
turned noses, shining skin, wide mouths
and white teeth, the negroes of Guinea,
true and unmixed, from the Gold Coast,
the Slave Coast, an.d the Cape of Palms
-not from the Grain Coast; the En
glish had that trade. See them come!
opoes, Cotocolies, Fidas, Socoes, Ag.
was, short, copper-colored Mines-what
havoc the slavers did make!-and from
interior Africa others equally proud and
warlike: fierce Negroes and Fonds; taw
nv Awassas; Iboes, so light-colored that
oe could not tell them from mulattoes
but for their national tattooing; and the
half-civilized and quick-witted but fe
rocious Aranda, the original Voudou
worshiper. And how many more! For
here come, also, men and women from
all that great Congo coast,-Angola,
Malimbe, Ambrice, etc.,-small, good
natured, sprightly 'boys,' and gay gar
rulous 'gals,' thicklipped but not tat
tood; chattering, chaffering, singing,and
guffawing as they come; these are they
for whom the dance and the place are
named, the most numerous sort of ne
gro in the colonies, the Congoes and
Fran-Congoes, and though serpent
worshipers, yet the gentlest and kind
liest natures that came from Africa.
Such was the company. Among these
bossals-that is, native Africans-there
was, of course, an evergrowing number
of negroes who proudly called them
selves Creole negroes, that is, horn in
America; and at the present time there
is only here and there an old native
Africatn to be met with, vain of his sin
gularity and trembling on his staff."
Who are Fit for Marriage?
Show the children, father, thai
"mother" is the loved queen of your
heart and home. Teach the boys, by
example, that mother and sister are to
be treated with all gentle deference.
Offer to the weaker ones the pleasantest
seat in the sunny windows, or by the
fire, and see how infectious will be the
courteous atmosphere about you. No
woman, or womanmy girl, but will b(
touched to the core of her gentle hecart
by this thoughtfulness, and the maiden
vho steps out of sueh a home is hardly
likely to sharpen her tongue or pen at
the expense of mankind, for manhiood
means to her the strength upon which
she may safely lean when she needs t(
be upheld; the protection that is prompi
when she needs defense; the voice that
encourages and advises justly and gen
erously. To become such a nman's loved
wife, is to her to open the door to all the
gracious outreach of her mother's life,
as she has seen it dlay by day. To be
come the husband of such a natural
womanly girl, is the wedding of a wo
man fit for wifehood with one of thc
men fit for husbands. Show me the
man unfit fra husband and I will tell
o ~ e. ihing of his father and mother.
if the home life is unoracious the child
ren who grow up in ihat home will be
ungracious and distorted in their lives
as plants deprived of sunshine and oxy
gen grow stunted and awry, if they
grow at all. Begin with- the babies on
your kneb, mothers, andl there will be nc
need to complain that: -There is non(
fit for marriage-no, not one!"--Trebor
Od, in Good Hovsekeeping.
'-On one occasion," says Ben Perley
Poore, -'Daniel Webster, when visiting
the old hall of the House of Representa
tives, had his attention called to the re
markable echo which repeated audibly
everything that was said from certain
places on the tloor. He was told that
this had the good effect of preventing
certain members, whose seats were in
those parts of the House. from speaking,
and one was mentioned especially whc
wold otherwise have grumbled ovci
every appropriationl. 31r. We-bster wrote
on an envelope:
-0d1 growling P'olk, from' 'Tennessee,
Says very little in tus~ meetin: '.
Simply because'Ctwixt you and me)
His slpeeches wil not bear repeauing."
Mr. VUn Z:mn'T, ex-Governor o:
Rhod-, l--land. is chl:ldred somnetimes be
cause of h~ is Dah-Yanukee ancestry. "]
tell them," sayvs he, --we are all milxec
up in blood in this country like cock
tails.
Some Peculiar People.
The lugubrious man. He is happy
only when he is miserable. But then,
he is almost always miserable. Come
what may, he can find something
troublesome in it. When the rain lays
the annoying dust for other people it
makes miserable mud for him, and
when the sunshine dries the vexing mud
for others it makes tormenting dust for
him. In his life every silver lining has
it- cloud. If by any chance there comes
a time when there is nothing to mourn
for he sends out his imagination to find
something. If the weather is just as he
wishes it to be he sets himself to think
ing on what it will be next August and
works himself into what is vulgarly
called a sweat. in one way or another
he is in a swCat Iost of the time. When
he has no troubles of his own he shoul
ders some of those which his neighbors
ought to have. He mourns to see Jones
eating hard-boiled eggs year after year
in utter unconsciousness that he is ru
ining his dia-estion. It grieves him to
know that Smith keeps right on riding
a bicycle after he has bon warned time
and again of the dreadful consequences
of a '-header"; and it tears his very soul
to :see Robinson persist in wearing a
plug hat without an airhole in it. when
it has been denionstrated so very clear
lv that this sort of thing has been known
to produce baldness. The lugubrious
man is not a pleasing person to have
around, but after all he serves a pur
pose. If lie absorbs all the sadness of
his neighborhood he leaves the rest of
the psople comparatively free to enjoy
themselves as they go.
The funny man. He isn't funny. but
that is not his fault. He tries hard
enough. He seems to think the aim of
all proper life is to make people laugh
at hin;; and sometimes he accomplishes
this. Most of the people, however,
laugh At him when he is not around.
You will find him wherever there is a
crowd. No matter what the object of
the asseublage may be, he is there with
his joke. He sits at the barber-shop
awaiting his turn and tells the barber
to be carvful not to dull his razor on his
friend's cheek. This being a joke he
laughs at it. How would anybody know
it was fanny if nobody laughed at it?
Presently his tiurn comes and he tells
the barber 'hat he will make no charge
for letting him hone his razor on his
cheek. Robody laughs, and he ven
tures the explanatory remark that a
razor may be honed on his adamantine
cheek. Still nobody laughs-that is,
nobody but himself, and that is sub
stantially nobody. If you don't find
him in the barber-sho> look out for him
in the railroad car. . When the brake
man announces that "this train will not
stop between Riverside and Downer's
Grove" the funny man shouts: "Who
said it would?" This makes him laugh
all over,but the brakeman and the other
passengers look tired, and travel-worn,
and sorry thev-didn't get off at the last
station. The funny man is also epi
demic at social gatherings. He likes
social gatherings, because there people
have to laugh at his remarks whether
they want to or not. It is one of the
drawbacks of a social gathering That
everybody has to pretend to enjoy every
thing about it, even to the funny man.
If the funny man and the lugubrious
man could be tied together by the heels
and flung over a clothes-line society
would try very hard to accept the situa
tion philosophically and with due resig
nation.-Chicago News.
People Who Wear Tights.
"One .of the principal articles we
sell," said a stage costumer to a report
er for the New York Mail and Express,
"is tights. They are not only used on
the stage, but in almost every show in
the country. The demand for them now
is large."
"Do they wear out easily?"
"That depends entirely on the kind
of show the wearer is acting in. Circus
riders wear the most. It's the rosin on
the horse's back that does that. Then
the wearer perspiring makes it necessary
to have them wvashed every time they
are used. A bareback circus rider will
wear out one or twvo pair a week They
cost all the way from $2 a pair up to al
most any price. The average pair for
circus people costs $6. They are plain
woven tights, but very . strong. There
are innumerable varieties in material,
in styles, in colors and still more in fits.
The cheapest tio'ht arc made of cotton.
These are matie in all colors, flesh,
white, black, unbleached, chocolate and
brown. Then there are fine cotton
tights, Lisle thread tights, French cotton
tights and silk tights."
"Do you sell them ready-made or
make them to order?"
"The best qualities are all made to
measure. We have the make-up or
model of a number of actresses, and
can make them as often as they are
wanted."
"What do you mean by the make-up?'
"You don't suppose these people have
the goods made to fit their true forms,
do you? Not more than one-fifth of
them have their tight-fitting clothes
made without padding. How would a
premier danseuse look posing before her
audience if her costume were not made
to give her a soft, rounded appearancel
We make padded skirts, padded hips,
padded arms, padded insteps, padded
thighs, padded legs, and, in fact, padded
everything. The pads are made of fine
lamb's wool When a large ballet is
being organized we have to go into this
paln bsns very extenstvely
bo' meofth pretiest ls will be slight
ly knock-kneed or ow-legg'ed. We
have to straighten them out and produce
the fine Venus-like looking forms that
you see on the stages. We have artists
who make a specialty of this, and in
some very particular case they make a
model of the actress, and th~'en perfect
the model and then make the goods up.'
A Frenchnman hias invented a gal
vano-plastic process which, he thinks,
will preserve the human body indefi
nitely by inclosing it in an air-tight
coat of mail- The body is first covered
with a conducting substance, such as
plumbago, or it is bathed with a solu
tion of nitrate of silver, which, after de
composition under the influence of .sun
light, leaves a finely divided deposit ol
metallic silver. It is then placed in a
bath of sulphate of copper and con
nected with several wires from a bat
tery. The result is that the body is in
cased in a skin of copper, which pre
ven further change or ceeical action.
MISSING LINKS.
In a Fresno, Cal., barber shop they
furnish music for the barbers to shave by.
The agent of the Pgssamaquoddy In
dians of Maine reports their number at
531, all farmers.
Ex-Secretary Kirkwood, who has re
tired from politics, is living at Iowa
City, where he owns a bank
In leveling a hill in*East Los Angeles,
Cal., lately for the residence of Baron
Roquiat, the workmeD uncovered a two
foot edge of gold-bearing quartz, assay
ing $3 at the surface.
Some Indian arrow-heads were lately
shown at the Societe d'Anthropologie
which were poisoned with curare over a
century ago, but still retained thei
deadly power. Small animals sbratched
with them died in half an hour.
George M. Palmer, a Philadelphia
baker, has buried six childreri and
married a third wife within a year.
The bridegroom, his son, and a journey
man baker were all sick the day of the
wedding; but Mr. Palmer managed to
pull himself together sufficiently to go
through with the ceremony.
The food of Burmese peasants includes
almost all kinds of reptiles. the grub of
a ball-rolling beetle, a kind of ant which
constructs nests of leaves in treetops
(eaten in curries), and hill rats. The
last named exist in such hordes that
their consumption is almost a necessity
to prevent the rats from eating the
Burmese.
Charles M. O'Connor, First-Lieuten
ant of the Eighth Infantry, is the Poo
Bah of the United States army. He is
on duty at Fort Brown, Tex., where he
serves in the multifarious roles of Post
Adjutant, Post Treasurer, Post Range
Officer. Actino Siognal Officer, Recrui'
ing Officer, and Superintendent of the
Post Schools,
Mrs. Lily Macallister Laughton, Re
gent of the Mount Vernon Association,
is asserted to have "the smallest and
most perfectly formed foot in America."
She once gave one of her slippers to a
charitable fair, where it was raffled for.
The lucky number was secured by
Bishop Potter's son Frank, who used
his prize as a watch-case.
A curious old coin was found near the
lime kiln on North Main street, Cham
bersburg, Pa. It has the inscription:
"In commemoration of the extinction of
Colonial slavery throughout the British
dominions in the reign of William IV."
The reverse side has the figure of a
slave with his shackles broken, and the
words: "This is the Lord's doing,1784."
Mr. Blaine, while addressing a re
uiion of Maine legislators lately, de
plored the change from annual to bien
nial elections and sessions of the legisla
tures, saying: "People must govern
themselves, or somebody will soon gov
ern them, and there is no way to keep
popular government fresh, strong, and
effective like frequent and well-contested
elections."
M. de Lesseps, who is about to leave
Paris for Panama, said in an interview
with the Gaidois concerning the Isth
mus Canal: "I do not anticipate any
future obstacles. The eriod of experi
ment is passed, and o y that of execu
tion remains. Every one of the con
tractors will have his work finished the
31st of 'December, 1888. I shall sail
through the canal that day."
George Tipton was a farmer in Madi
son county, Kentucky, about twenty
years ago. He became financially in
volved, and went to West Indies. He
secured control of a small island of the
Bahama group which proved to be rich
in phosphates, from which he amased
great wealth. He ruled autocratically,
and no woman or intoxicating lignor
were permitted upon the island. The
ruler of this Eyeless and prohibition
Eden is now on a visit to his native
state, and is expected to take back with
him a blue-grass widow and a full sup
ply of Kentucky Bourbon.
The English hangman, Berry by
name, is a tall, respectable-looking
man, with the appearance of a me
chanic. He is a shoemaker by trade,
but does not work now, as the execu
tioner is well paid. He gets $50a head,
or, when there are more than one, $50
for the first, $25 for the second, and $25
for the third, with all expenses paid.
The first essential is nerve, and Brry
has nerve. Binns, who preceded him,
was a braggart, and liked publicity.
He would smoke his pipe outside half
an hour before an execution, and drink,
and had an active tongue. Now the
executioner is obliged to sleep in jail
the night before a hanging. Caleraft,
who was famous for so many years, was
also a shoemaker, and, like Berry, a
quiet, retiring man.
Mile. de la Ramee, known to novel
readers as "Onida," is described by one
who saw her on a Florence drive for the
frst time as appearing "very much
above the usual stature of women. Her
face was marked by a nose decidedly
aquiline, and abundant yellow hair.
The figure was graceful and lithe. But
such eyes! One moment they were a
topaz-brown, and in the next second
they were a misty-gray. The face
would have ben a peasant though very
unusual one but for the eerie, uncanny
eyes. The lady is of spotless prsonal
character. Her mother is Egih; her
father was a French-Spaniad with
good blood but bad morals. 'Ouida'
devotes her life, outside her work, to her
dogs and her mother, a pleasant-faced,
white-haired old lady, who always goes
to sleep in the warm, soft sunshine when
she drives out with her masterful-looking
daughter."
Ex-Queen Isabella knows as little
about polities as about the value of
money. It is said that when once in
the days of her power she ordered one
of her ministers to send a poor professor
$4,000 from her nearly exhausted treas
ury the minister deter-mined to admin
ister a much-needed lesson, and heaped
the money in small silver coins upon a
table by which the queen would be sure
to pass. She stopped, surprised, and
asked what all the money was for. "It
is the money for the professor," said the
minister. The queen understood the
situation and smiled, but sent the
money all the same. Once when one
of her advisers was trying to impress on
her that times were changing and new
political ideas gaining .around, she ex
claimed impatiently: 'NXell! 'Don't I
know it? Of course the times chanoe.
You never see me driving out now w't
my white mules."-.