The Barnwell people. (Barnwell, S.C.) 1884-1925, September 04, 1884, Image 1
WELL, S. C., TBtTIRSDAY, S]
Kurniek upla tt« •opbtrd
4 blue baok.
An’ now I’m pwlneter take
it tryln’ ht ter Urn jrer de BL 0.
The* ekln dem rye* ob yourn
ber look.
An* tell me de top letter In de fu#
book. ~
Ter *ee* bow It emebaped? The* like
wedge
When It am etandin’ itralgbt on tta
wide*' edge) 4
Ter don’t know whuthlt U? Dat wbsl heard
yer cay?
I’se to Ip yer twenty time* dat
Lemme tell yer, eonny, ef I haeter begin,
De way I’ll beat yor, honey, ’U1 shorely b<
elnl
beer
here letter ibaped like de
on bit* eend the* fer s little
Now whut'c die
oxe*' yoke
Hr standin' on
Joke?
Ter dun furgot die too? Don't yer dodge fnm
me
When 1'* tryln’ter 1’arn yerwbutrep-er-ienta
er B.
Dar now 1 take dat—an dat—turn my rfchfc
ecus ban’—
May be eo 'twill be'p yer ter tee an’ ondex*
■tan' 1
An’ nex' time rec-o-mcmbersum things whut
I la eaid—
B itand* for Bnx—mind yer!—Box on yer
wooden bod!
Whuta dia here like de moon when hit are
mighty young,
Long erbout de fust nlgbta bit In de *ky am
hung—
When yer can't ccaaely eee de footers ob de
man 1
Now tel) mo dat, n!gger—provided ef yer
nan.
Can’t! Yer dl*-ro-mera-ber«? I’m got no
heart to ’•i>laln
Ad’ 'tcribe thing* tor er nigger whut’* lack
in' in de brain. *
I 'lowed yer’d rec-o-member dem thing* yer
didn't know,
Arter I ’nounced dem -for yer wid er good-
siac, he<Uy blow.
C ctan’a fer Can't, 1 tell yer, an' D ctan's for
Don't keer,
An’I wayhe's my bands ob yor forcber—now
an' here I
How doe* yer eber '»pec' ter git ter do leglab-
late-cbur,
Kl yer’c *0 idllu' when I trie* ter cdg-ur-cate
yerl
Sum cullard men di sc days gits ter be candy-
datM
Wid the* er little
pate*.
But sho'a yer born
out obdl*.
Tor'll neber bo no great shakes
oflis;
Ef yer don’t larn dem letter* an’ DU yer bead
with sufHn,
Yer'll neber 1* no preacher, nor guvernor,
nor nufiln!
—Mr*. Julo W. Thompson, In Arkansaw
Traveler.
it gome reason. Yens, why
'ge me to a secret hasty marriage, ”
•aid. “There is something you have
hidden from me. What ia it, VereP”
What could he do then but tell her
the truth, for ahe would find it out
tell hor the truth, and ssfc her
him and listen to him for
love’s sake?
Bat Avis only tamed away in pas*
sionato despair, and then be caught her
hand.
“Yon must listen to me, Avis! My
darling, my darling, have meroy on
me!” he cried. “Do not wreck my
life!”
She smiled bitterly.
“You had mercy on me!” she cried:
then, suddenly: “Do you think I would
rob a wife of her husband, the bride
of her bridegroom? Oh, shame that
any one could humble me with the
thought!”
He pleaded then as a man might
plead for his very life, bat aim only
■hook her head.
“You never loved me!” he cried pas
sionately.
“You can believe as you like,” she
answered coldly; “andwo had better
part now forever.”
He longed to clasp her in his arms,
his very sonl^ried out for one parting
kiss, one nevor-to-be-forgotten caress;
but ho felt he dare not, and with white
•et face he turned awav.
Once he turned and looked back; she
stood still where ho had left her, her
fair young face still turned towards
him, perfectly calm now, though white
and weary looking.
“She never loved mo!” heeded again.
"Never lovod him!” Avis said to her
self with a pitiful smile. “Oh, Heaven
how well!”
snspm
£ row stm
e people
help me how much and
lamin'*n' mighty ■bailer i and then, her agony conquering her,
she sank down upon her knees—sank
nigger,ef yer don toum |down> white&n d‘ 8lliver i n - aml kue lt
in pulpit nor | there till the evening shadows fell, and
the pale moon came out with her train
of glittering stars; and then she rose
white as death, and stole to her own
room, only to sink down again, this
time in blessed unconsciousness.
B^)S
UElt EVIL
GENIUS.
blame after
against his
vain, to
an
in
am
*11
Ho was not so much to
all, for he loved her even
will. He kad striven, but in
banish the sweet young face, all framed
In sunny Lair, from bis memory. It \
had haunted him with its fair beauty,
from the day ho lirst saw it till this |
day, when, with white woeful face, and :
tear-lilled eyes, she cried out that he !
had broken her heart.
“It was cruel!” she cried, “iiwas un- j
just, unmajtly, and unfair! You spoke i
words of love to me, and 1 believed
you—earth was heaven for the bright
summer past, and all the time another
woman held j our promise, another wo
man wore your ring, and had listened,
before I saw your face, to your vows of
love.”
“I never loved her,” VcrcSt. George
said; “you, and you alone, are the one
love of my life. You must believe this.
Avis; you must not think mo a scoun
drel.”
Avis Leigh smiled half-pitifully, half-
scornfully.
“How that would lesson your right to
the title I cannot see,” she said quietly;
“it would be no worse, nor even as
bad, to woo me, while you loved and
■were engaged to anotber, than to win
her with words of love, mako her your
promised wife, and then be false to
your vows. It makes little difl’erence
which you love—nothing can excuse
your action.”
Vero’s face flashed hotlt, for he
knew that Avis spoke the truth; but
love for her had been conqueror over
every other feeling—even honor itself
had been hushed silent for a while; but
there was; if no excuse, at least some
extenuation of his conduct.
Before he had ever oven seen this
fair-faced Avis Leigh, Sibyl Meredith
had coihe to his mother’s home to make
it hers—Sibyl Meredith, the orphan
daughter of his mother’s dearest friend
—a friend to whom she owed the very
gift of life itself, who had saved her
from death at the risk of her own life
when they were both girls.
Sibyl was about nineteen years old
then, a brilliant dark-eyed girl, with a
rarely beantifnl face, a crown of ebon
hair, and royally graceful in every
movement
Sibyl Meredith, though beautiful as
woman seldom is, seemed to care for
nothing or no one save Yere and his
mother. They seemed to be her world,
and Mrs. St George loved her for it,
and Yere, man like, felt flattered.
How it happened Yere could Moti > of wist(ull)alu>
— well tell, only it was his mother s ------
A pretty little cottage set in a small
garden that in summer was all bright
with flowers, but looked cold and
dreary enougli now.
Inside, however, tboro was light and
warmth enough, and on her knees a
woman, young and beautiful, clasping
a child of three or four years old to
her bteast and standing at the mantel
piece, a man, the expression of whoso
face at the moment was perfectly un
readable.
It might be love; it might be hate, or
a mixture of both, that tilled his hand
some, dark, evil eyes, as they rested on
the woman.
Suddenly ho went over and put his
hand on her shoulder.
“This m.lst end, Sibyl,” he said. “I
cannot trust you. I feel you will play
me false in some way. There is some
thing in your manner thatl don’tliko.”
The woman leaped to her feet and
faced him with passiouale glowing eyes.
“You cannot trust me?” she cried.
“Would to Heaven you could not
What I am, you have raado mo, and
yet I loved you ones.” *».
Tho man’s face gtew dark.
“Loved mo once! Then you do not
love me now?”
“No,” she cried, “only for her sake,
whom I love hotter than my life, am I
still your slave.’’
Tho man s claSp tightened on her
shoulder, and he bent his head nearer
to her face.
“This is the last game you will have
to play; but if you turn traitor you will
never look on Esta’s face again, and
you know 1 generally manage to keep
my promises. Become Vere St
George's wife, and give me the sum of
live thousand a year, and 1 will give up
all claim to Esta, and never trouble you
or her again.
Tho woman kneeling there is Sibyl
Meredith, tho betrothed wife of Veto
St George.
* * * * * *
It is a bright "clear day overhead,
one week later, and the ice is^ most
tempting to thoso to whom skating is
enjoyment and tho ice is a bright scene
of fair faces and brilliant costumes.
One of the skaters on the ico is Sibyl
Meredith, looking singularly beautiful
in a skating-dress of navy-blue velvet
ier jetty curls falling loosely down her
back, from under the little velvet cap,
made to match the dress, both being
trimmed with silver fox.
At a little distance from the pond
another girl is standing, gazing idly at
the gay Strong, her eyes, however, full
«ae sank. • ■:
monoBt—a minute of
during which pale faces
paler, and daring which ^
oonld hear their own heart-beats, and
.vis had come up, the little one
' in.her arms.
every heart there rose a cry of
thankfulness, for the most cowArdly
could hot help appreciating the bravery
of the girl—a cry of thankfulness
echoed again, when tho little one and
her preserver were in safety, and then
—then tho lady in tho blue velvet and
fox-fur came down from the upper lake.
Her eyes foll'firston Avis, whose eyes
had closed in unconscious, and then on
the little girl.
With a wild cry she caught the little
one in her arms.
“My darling! my darling!” she cried,
kissing her passionately^ “How did
you come here?”
They boro Avis to the nearest cot
tage, and when she woke to conscious
ness, a beautiful dark faco was bend
ing over ber, and the locket she always
wore round her neck, with Yere St.'
George’s face within it, lay open in tho
stranger’s hand.
A flush dyed Avis’ faco. ^
“Pardou me,” Sibyl Meredith said;
“it lay open and—and ” Then af
ter a pause: “You are Avis Leigh,
whonl v bK)’ r St. George loves. Girl,
you saved a woman’s soul as well as a
child’s life to-day, for the little one was
mine—mine; and if I am lost to all
other feeling, I love her better than my
life.” /
“I would not tell you, only that if it
brings me death, I am going to atone
for my past by my confession, but be
fore I go, answer me once simple ques
tion: ‘Do you love Vcro St George?’ ”
Impelled by Something in the dark
eyes lixed upon her face, a faint “yes”
fell from Avis’ lips, and before she
could frame another word, the stranger
had loft the room. Next day Vere St
George was standing in the garden,
when suddenly Sibyl stood before him,
and something in her face for tho mom
ent made his heart stand still
“Sibyl, w ho cried, “what is it?”
“It is this,” she answered slo
“that I am not Sibyl Meredith, bu
Imposter, for Sibyl Meredith sloe
her grave under my name, and
hero under hers. I will tell you
then you can judge me ”
Before another word could leave her
lips, a pistol-shot rang out on the air.
“He has murdered me!” she cried—
“my husband!” then fell forward at
Vero’s feet, her red blood dyeing the
! ground.
Vere carried her into the house, but
| she only lived a few hours.
“He—ho was my evil genins!” she
! cried, before hor death, “but I am sor
ry for it all.” And then, after a pause,
as tho end drew near: “My child, my
j child! I have her safe. He cannot
And her, but you—you Ah, dare
i 1 ask you? She was tho little one Avis
I Leigh—your Avis—saved from drown-
: lie knew what was in her mind, and
sent for the little one.
It was brought to the dying woman.
She looked at Avis, who came with it
“When you are ids wife, you will bo
J kind to my little one?”
“I gave it second birth,” Avis said
softly, “it will never leave my care.”
A smile lit np the beautiful dark face,
i ami clasping the child in her arms, she
closed her eyes on lift forever.
Whatever her sins had boon, she died
pentftnt, and her jndgment is with
God, and we cannot fathom His mercy.
Six months after, Avis and Yere were
married, and though other children
blessed their home, Esta, the dark-eyed
little stranger, knows not but that she
is their ehild, and never will, God will
ing.
What became of - her father was
never known for certain, but a man was
shot in a gambling den six months al
ter Yere’s marriage, and on hii breast
was found a likeness of the woman
who was called Sibyl Meredith fer a
while.
His last words were;
“She was my wife. I loved her In
my own way, but I murdered her—
shot her dead when she turned traitor
to our plans.”
One thing was certain; no one ever
sought Esta, and if they had it would
have availed them nothing, for Vere
and Avis had her legally adopted, so
she was safe, not only in love, bat in
law; and with gentle Avis wo leave her.
LAKES.
Cefega’ft Bed or
tenwneaa River 1
and Ontario.
“If yon are ever drowned in Cayuga
Lake, your friends nfad not go to tEe
expense or trouble of dragging the lake
for your body, for tbejrd never find it”
This was the cheerful remark made
by a resident of Ithaca, who has a taste
for geological research, and who has
indulged it during tho past few years
in investigating the bottom of Cayoga
Lake...
“From all I have been able to discov
er,” said he; "the bottom of Cayuga
lake is a series of large ofenings and
oavitios, many of them resembling tho
craters of extinct volcanoes. Some of
these are a hundred feet in diameter,
and are snrrounded by raised rims,
like tho sides of a milk pan. These
craters, as I believe they are, lie at
different depths, or, rather, are of dif
ferent heights. Their depth I have
never been able to sound, although I
have lowered many hundred feet of
S lpnft line into them. They are on-
oubtedly fathomless, and have be
come receptacles of the bodies of the
hundreds of persons who are known to
have been drowned in tho lake during
the past half century, and of tho un
doubted thousands of people killed in
the fierce battles that were frequently
waged on tho shores of tho lake bc-
* 1 fixed myself «
fishing on the oaly
g&gw;
that Bip Van Winkle, 1
ed himself to hnfttirig
old musket that was on the
when Rip took his sleepy
Catskills, If he could hi
ng with me last week
are
L*ltb an
list
the
le fish-
FtheoM
trail, digging angle worms at the itine
old place whore I left the spade stick
ing In the grim soil tweafty years ago
if we could have waded down the Kin-
nickinnick together with high rubber
boots on, ana got nibbles and bites at
tho same place, and found the same
old farmers with neafly a quarter of a
century added to their lives and glist*
ning in their hair, we would have had
fun no doubt on that day, and a head
ache on tho day following. This af
fords me an opportunity to say that
trout can be caught successfully with a
corkscrew. I have tried. I’ve about
decided that the main reason why so
many largo lies. are told about the
number of trout caught all over the
country is that at
sportsman pulls his
water, he labors under some kind of an
ptical illusion by reason ' of which he
sees about nine trout where he Ought
to see only one.
I wish I had as many dollars as 1
*Iw*glp
Boeatager.
the moment the
game out of the
tween hostile tribes of the ‘original ha™ s oa kcd deceased angle worms In
people’ years before t^ie white man ap
peared on this continent.
“It was in Cayuga Lako that the
wretch Rulloff lowered tho bodies of
his wifo and child, inclosed in a chest,
after ho had murdered them, twenty , . .
years ago. Tho weeks that wero spent | creck,_ I can still remoml^gr
in dragging for the chest was time ‘ ’
throwu.»way, for it had sunk into tho
mouth of one of these dead volcanoes,
and, if it is not sinking yet, is no
doubt floating about in the bottomless
lo into It
It ft still
What Ailed Him.
“What’s the matter, Sli
very t .
wish, and then the girl was so beauti
ful herself, and yet—and yet
Well, lie had not the slightest inten
tion of asking her to be ms wife that
summer afternoon, but somehow they
had strayed down past cliffs and crags,
away to the woodland beyond, and then
the thnnder and lightning had broken
so suddenly over them, and Sibyl was
frightened and clung to him,- and he
In the passion of the moment bent his
head and kissed the trembling lips, and
called her.darling.
After that—well, he had made a fool
■ of himself; he would not be a knave,
so he asked Sibyl to be bis wife, 'and
.she had answered him yes.
He was satisfied enough for a while;
he did not love the little dark-eyed
beauty, and lately he had come to feel
With a vague uneasiness that there was
t mnething tmdtr all the soft childish
ness of Sibyl’s manner—something
.that he oould not understand.
But she had promised to be his wife,
hie ring glittered on her finger;
and, then, he had met Avia Leigh, and
l What love meant—passionate
> love that thitiled hie BMui with
r vwutx ww ineeuw
la vein he struggled against the spell
her trie face ud the glint efW
Avis Leigh has changedare ally since
her parting with Vere St. George. Hers
was not a nature to love lightly, and
her heart could never love again.
The dream had been perilously sweet,
but the awakening was terribly crueL
The lovely facois very pale now, the
sweet lips, half drooping, seeming to
know no longer how to smile, and tho
roundness has left her cheeks.
She looks fragile enough (or a breath
to blow her away.
Her eyes turn now to a little dark
eyed girl who is venturesome enough
to walk quite a distance on the ice, then
run back again, seeming to enjoy it
with a child’s merriment.
Suddenly a cry loaves Avis’ lips, a
cry of warning to the fearless child,
who has dashed out on a thin shell >of
ice marked dangerous.
No wonder, then, a second cry leaves
Avis’ lips, and one fraught with more
terror, for she hears a crushing crack*
Ung sound, and the child, seeming to
realise her danger; turns to run bnek;
hut all too late, for with tho same stow
crushing sound, followed by a crash,
the ioe parts, and the little one disap
pears in the water.
Move than one rush to a certain dis-
taadsiwqne venture farther, and atth#
Where the ^better skaters
bled, and among them Sibyl
ipity?”
ddresse
asked'
a friend, as tho person addressed ap-
roachod, with tho impression of five
ger nails on each jaw, and with his
hat olL cooling his head, that resembled
a half-picked fowl.
“Nothing much,”ho answered trying
to smile, “just merely a little domestic
cyclone.”
“What caused it?”
“Well you see, at breakfast my wifo
asked me what I thought would do the
next to heaven.”
“Yes.” ,
“And I remarked that I thought my
mother-in-law was the next tuag to
heaven. She wanted to know why,
looking awfully pleased, and I told her
because I dyln’t think my mother-in-
law would ever get into heaven and
Consequently she would be next thing
to that place. Then the air
tangled up with fi
mo, and 11
cool off”
depths where, in tho ages past, tiro Last week
and smoke and ashes were the domin- croc fc again,
ant elements. ./
“Within forty years between 200 and
300 persons have been drowned in
Cayuga Lake* to recover the remains
of whom tuo grappling-iron and drag
havo been usod industriously, but in
vain. If it wore possible for one to
make thu rounds or this lake’s or ate r-
Hke bed, ho would, beyond doubt, en-
i counter hideous charnel-houses beyond
number—caverns where thousands of
grinning skeletons havo found their
own sepulcher, subterranean cata
combs without end. Walor taken
from a depth of 800 feet in Cayuga
Lake—which must itave been from one
of these cavities—is strongly charged
with sulphuretted hydrogen, nitrogen,
carbonic acid, and tho carbonates of
lime, potash, soda, and magnesite
Cayuga Lako has also a mysterious
tidal motion. It is irregular in its oc
currence, bat very decided. Tho
phenomenon has been known to appear
twice a year, and then two years or
more have elapsed between its periods.
The water frequently recedes fifty feet
Tho ebb is gradual, but the flood tide
comes in with considerable force and
rapidity. This phenomenon is also
noticed on Seneca Lako, which is di
vided from Cayuga by tho high Seneca
county hills. The surfaco of Seneca
Lake is sixty feet aboye that of Cayuga
Lake, but I believe its bed is of tho
same remarkable character, t Senoca
Lako rises and falls as mnch as three
feet dnring the time of its tidal com
motion, which is also irregular in its
periods.
“I believe there is a subterranean
river running from Lake Superior,
through Lakes Huron and Michigan,
under Lake Erie, and emptyingjteito
Lako Ontario. There is no other way
in which to explain certain mysteries
connected with our great lakes. Tim
surface of Lake Superior is about 650
feet above the tide, while its bed is 300
feet below the tide level. Lake Huron’s
surface is fifty feet ttelow that of Su
perior’s, and its bed iTabout on a level
with Superior’s. The surface of Lake
Michigan is 300 feet lower than Lake
Huron’s, and its bed is sunk a-corres
ponding distance to the level of the
other two lakes. Lake Erie’s surface
is nearly as high as Lako Michigan’s
being 565 above tho tide, but its bed is
also above tide, being 350
i than the ocean level, consequent
bed is 250 feet higher than those
lakes above it Lake Ontario’s surfaco
is the lowest of all the great lakes,
being less than 500 feet above tide, but
its bod is 280 feet below the ocean, or
about the same level as Michigan,
Huron, and Superior. So there is a
continuous fall from Lake Superior to
Ontario, and all the outlet that the up
per lakes have that is known is the
comparatively insignificant Detroit Riv
er. That stream never can care for all
of that great pressure and volnme
from above, and the theory of an under
ground river snob as I mentioned
that samo beautiful Kinnlckinnick.
There was a little stream made
that we called Tidd’s creek,
there. This stream runs across Tidd's
farm, and Tidd twenty years ago
wouldn't allow anybody to fish in tne
I can still remoml^r how his
large hand nsed to feel as lie caught
me by the nape of the nock and threw
me over tho fence with my amateur
fishing tackle and a willow “stringer”
With | eleven dried, stiff trout on it.
thought I would try Tidd’s
It was always a good
place 10113!), and I felt tho same old
excitement, with just enough vague
forebodings in it to make it pleasant.
Still, I had grown a foot or so since I
used to fish there, and perhaps I could
return tho compliment by throwing the
old gentleman over his own fence and
then hiss in his oWn ear “R-e-
v-e-n-g-e!!! ”
I had got pretty well across the
“lower forty” and had about decided
that Tidd had been gathered to his
fatiiers when l saw him coming with
his head up like a steer .in the corn.
Tidd is a blacksmith bytrade, and he
has an arm witu hair on it that looks
like Jumbo's hind log. I felt the same
old desire to climb the fence and be
aloae. 1 didn’t know exactly how to
work k. Then I remembered how
people had remarked that 1 had chang
ed very much in twenty years, and
that for a homely boy I had grown to
be a lenarkably piclurosquo-looklng
man. I trusted to Tidd’s failing eye
sight and said:
“How are you?”
Hosald: “How arc you?” That did
not answer my question, but I didn’t
mind a little thing like that.
Then ho said: “I s’posed that every
pesky fool in this country knew I don’t
allow fishing on my land.”
“That may be,” says L “but I ain’t
fishing on jour land. I always fish in
ndatnp place if lean. Moreover, how
do I know this is your land? Carrying
the argument still further, and admit
ting that every pesky fool knows that
you didn’t permit fishing here,
I am not going to be call
ed a pesky fool with impunity,
unless you do it over my dead body.”
He stopped about ten rods away and I
became more fearless. “I don’t know
you arc,” said L as I took off my
aud vest and piled them on my
hoitowteTfa the
wiUktr
l t® »
and other similar
can not be thoroughly
after the most thorough rind
Impurities will remain in
the stone. Spongy iron j .
**• open to the same objection; they
will answer well fer a short times bat
eoon become contaminated by pota
tion retained in their porep. Sponge,
doth, and felt, nnleas cleaned every
day or two with hot water, will do
more ham than good, and the average
eerrant girl will not dean them or any hmall hat
other filter unlese under the eyed her
mistress.
The various forms of filters that are
screwed to the faucet have only to bo
hastily examined to be rliacwdefl. M>
there is not sufficient filtering material
in them to be of much utility, and they
very soon become fool and offeaiiYsL
Back says, "There ia no material
known which can be induced into the
■nytil apace of a tap-filter and accomp
lish any real purification of the water
which passes through, at the ordinary
rate of flow.”
The various complicated
filters, filled with any material which
can not be removed for cleansing, con
demn themselves. No amount of
pumping water through them at differ
ent angiee, which is at all llkaly to be
used, can cleanse them of the impuri
ties that adhere to the mats and m the
pores of the filtering material used.
Darks, in his “Mannal of Practical
Hygiene,” says: “Filters, where the
material is cemented np and cannot be
removed, oqgbt to be abandoned al
together.”
The various metal filters in which
the water cornea in contact with
tailic surfaces, dther iitft, lead,
tinned iron, or aino, are Objectionabte
from their appreciable Influence upon
the water retained in them for any
aiderable time. Pure black tin is the
least objectionable of any of the metals.
The aim of meet filters la to remove
impuritiee from the water speedily—as
rapidly as it escapee from the faucet
Experiment shows that effective filter*,
tion can not be accomplished in this
the water doss not remain
long enough in contact with the filtep-
ing material used to become purified of
much that might be removed Ity alow
filteration or percolation through the
same appliance. Of all the filtering
materials mentioned it eoevs to
that sand and charooal are the two that
accomplish the beet reeulte, and ef
these vegetable charcoal is the beat.—
Popular Bcicnct
by m
niggeraajwMc* Hewn
and had but se one ere.’
MrBoSeiageiv in Us et
worked bite sen
in frestof the
tlanced un asf
pockmarked, teur
was, in fact, the
who had betrayed)
“By ae shade of
yen air se man*'** •
mafcand thsn* Uffi^
of^dcMb ifaSte* '
tires as be ran np I
thsnsm. ThsT
jumped tm
through tire
Ttanreftofi
i Monthly for June.
Difflcultlce
thought
YTUittll UUA.fe bUlUg
>en the air got sojter
oger nails, hair, and
t best to come ont and
Commenting on a recent lecture by
Oscar Wild •.the Pall Mali GiueUe
•SpSi
CO!
fish basket, eager ter tho fray. “You
claim to own this form but it is my
opinion that you are the hired man,
puffed up with a little authority. 1 You
cau’t order me off this ground till you
show mo a duly q^rtilied abstract of
title aud then identity yourself. What
protection docs a gentleman have if he
is to be kicked and cuffed about by
every Tom, Dick and Harry claiming
they own tho whole State. Get outl
Avaunt! If you don’t avannt pretty
fool higher < l uick ’ ru kidnap you and sell yon to a
.quently its j me i! ical c ® lle ^ e ' 1 u
hose of the ; **ood ia dumb amazement a mp-
t„i„ i moot, then he said he would go and
get his deed and his shotgun. I said
shotguns suited me exactly, and told
| him to bring two ol them loaded with
giant powder and barbed wire.
1 I would not live always. I asked not
j to stay. When he got behind the corn
1 crib I climbed tho fence and fled with
my ill-gotten gains.
The blacksmith in his prime may
lick tho small boy, but twenty yean
changes their relative positions. Pos
sibly Tidd could tear up the ground
wuuu i.twi •— . iMirr . TT with me now, but in ten more years, if
seems to me most reasonable. All the • f. *pp ro y e as fast as he falls, I shall
; none ventures nearer
Than * sUat girlish fonpt.
'Mr. Wilde has clearly taken a
good deal by his lecturing tour in
America. For one thing, he has found
the tongue of an audible lecturer; and
for another, he has brought back a
jmw setting for many exoHent old
■tones. His appropriation of oar old
friend, the American who Wag indig
nant at being supplied with a castof
Venus of Milo without tb* arete, was
at amusing as it was aadaetoon”
There is one official ia a great Eag-
who knows how to do a
A distinguished nov-
day received a paoT
tefatag ata exceedingly wore
/ wfipyef oaeef his ewa etorV
3 ft some a litter freshfrom tbs
* that ha had ‘
M
WU
i ssrs is one
Heh library wb
etaHne day re
St. Lawrenoe fishes are taken In every
one of the lake? bnt Lake Erie. Why?
Because they follow the course of the
subterranean stream, passing 800 feet
beneath the bottom of Lake Erie and
enter the waters of the upper lakes.
The great lakes above Lake Erie have
an occasional flux and reflux of their
Waters, corresponding with ocean
tides save in regularity.
“The subterranean river, according
to my theory, becomes occasionally
obstructed by great obstacles that are
constantly moving down from tins lake
bottoms. Then tho channels of outlet
are insufficient to off the great
volume of water, and t^V are dammed
back and the lakes rise; Finally these
obstructions are swept away by the lr-
resiatible pressure,' the river flows
naturally ones more, and the dammed
waters subside. That is tho Whole
mystery of the rise and fall of tho tides
in the great lakes.”—X 7. Sun. .
■«>« . ?,
Dr. rarr, an Augusn scientist says
that U one could witeh the march of
1,000,000 through iikthe loUm
would be observable: w—rty 160,1
would dia tke irat y^r, ffik 1 ^ u
ood year, 21,000 In the third year, and
l«m than 4,000 in the thtrtesniti year.
Attite aadef forty-five vm MMOO
Wffl have died. At the W w#
f eighty years, 97,000; at step
rmn. SL000, are) at nWti$4
fish in the sntnc
Bill Nye. ia .Yew
Id stream again.—
2! -
York Mercury.
11 anting With Belled Dogs,
“I hunted with an Englishman in
Michigan, once, who put bells on his
dogs when he went woodcock-hunting
when the dogs got into the thick covert,
he could trace their course by the
sound of tho bells, and whenever tha
tinkling ceased, ho knew they were
pointing birds*
‘.‘Ho told mo that one day he went
out to a woodcock covert wRh a belled
dog, and after following tha sound
bock and forth and around and around
in the tangled growth, suddenly tha
tinkling ceased. Vary much pleased*
he went to the spot expecting to flush
a bird, but be could und neither his
dog nor any woodcock. Loug tad
patiently he tramped about tha spot, to
no purpose. Then he called his dog;
it did not come. Here is a mystery.
Could it be possible that bis dog had
fallen dead m some dense dump of the
covert? He called until he was hoarML
and flndty went baok to camp tired
dog at
adfUt
i* *
Andtherelay his<
[in the sun. It had 1
Flood a man and a dog side by side
at a distance of twenty feet, and any
tenon with an eye capable of dia-
tihsrslshing them win be able to toll
which is on the right, which on tha
eft The eye is not easily deceived as
to position st right angles to the Itaaof
vision. Let the man advance five feet;
it is easy to tell that the dog Is farther
away than the man. Next, place the
man at a distance of 100 feet, the dog
at 105 feet; it Is not so easily decided
as before, although mistakea are rare
with a normal eya. But at 600 and 600
feet, respectively, it is less easy, air.
though we can still tell which is to the
right and which totheleft Thai
formed on the retina by tike same <
at different distances are Tesy i *
differing only in size and distinctness.
For this resson it is difficult to judge of
distances, requiring amch pmuff
Refraction always changes tha
parent place of an object, so
to see the sun after It has
below the horison. A
bnt lees frequent phenomenon qf re-
fraotiqp is that known as mirage,
fraction also affects the color dr ■
jeot The media three
passes has more or lest
ray. In a fog objects are
the effect teeeml
anoe; hence objects
S«*&$8j£r
impression recefrsd by the
the distance, while the
mate&from the indistinctness of
object In thTTcr
anoe is increased, bubtfcefljya 1
it as dub to the opposite causa."
looking at the photograph'!
church, a monumant, or a
is not possible to form * <
its size unless a man or suflial ft i
in the same view with wniea to
pare It In nature, especially on i
the intervening objects that lead up tdj
give the date on Whteh te oaleulate til
distanie. Where notiHptbrvsreh as Iff
looking from peak to peak; ft* «y» j
must depend on dUtinqtiKSMpiwfcKf
the air is very class am
as In Colorado, distant
than they are. If tha
through transparent,
media, the form nteabm tn*'
odors are changed. *
I VI iVO*
objeete
ibUng t
' cts look lazgar, fur
the sise atom OMMl
> tin of the tarngfar
" sqMreef
ur Is esft>
What Is more
see a man, who, 1
crowded into a o
dally to recover lost
who when his legs fafi l
his knees. Him who
old None maxim
a way or make one.”
•aid that “success
falling; but in
fa.lL 1 ’ Push 00
the clouds Of doubt
meat, df sorrow
hovef Jound hi
night without Its
a turn. The wi
bound to reoegntee
bow to 7 W4-
Words of tha
when her sun ^
•word waited
it,” the bre*
envy those who
Air ulMmi r