r
wr m m ~^w?v?m?"
THE
VOL. Y. NO. 14.
Her Answer. a
1
All day long slieheld my question , j.
inner n*an;
Shunned my eyes that craved an answer, G
Moved apart; v
Touched my hand in good-night greeting, I
Rosier grew? c
" Should I leave to-morrow ??early ? f
lhen adieu !" j t
Bent her head in farewell courteous,
Onward passed, ! ^
While a oold hand gripped my heart strings, J ^
Held them fast. '
Still I waited, still I listened ;
All my soul
Trembled in the eyes that watched her t
As she stole ; ]
t p the stairs with measured footsteps. ^
But she turned <
Where a lamp in brazen bracket \
Brightly burned. j
Showed me all the glinting ripples ?
Of her hair, i
Veiled her eyes in violet shadows, (
Glimmered where
Curved her mouth in soft compliance *
As she bent t
Toward me from the dusky railing t
Where she leant. 6
\h, my love .'?One white hand wanders ;
XV) her hair,
Slowly lifts the rose that nestles
Softly there; j
Breathes she in its heart my answer ^
Shyly sweet, ^
And love's message mutely flutters y
To my feet. \
- t
FLOTSAM.
i
t
It was a.fearful storm. All nigl#they 1
had heard, above the wliistle of the gale 1
as it rushed through the heavens, above 1
the toasiug of the trees and the pelting :
of the rain, the great bellow of the 1
waves upon the beach?a long unbroken P
roar that it made some hearts stand still ?
to hear.
It made the hearts of Mrs. Brenton *
and her husband stand very still; for, c.
years i>efore, Mrs. Brenton was bringing *
her children from Europe, and it was in *
such a storm as this, while the steam- j
ship lay broadside to the assaulting surge *
among the breakers, and the lifeline was ?
being sent ashore, that one great billow J
chasing after another rose in a gigantic *
shadow and fell like a cataract, rushing
across the whole breadth of the deck, (
and sweeping from it every living apul 1
that was not lashed fast; tmd though ?
Mrs. Brentoir herself was thrown high *
and dr^upon the shore, with the life so J
nearly beaten out of her that it took
hours to restore it, the children never *
came to shore at all. Now every storm *
had for these parents a horrible fascina- !
tion. They had fitted out a life saving J
statiou from their own means; they sel- .
dom slept when the wind blew bitterly;
they usually sought the shore as soon us *
the storm grew so dreadful that every- :
body else sought shelter. It seemed as 1
if they were drawn to sceues of wreck ; 1
and disaster by some fatality, not pre- |
cisely hoping that after this lapse of time ; *
the sea tvould give up its dead, but with 1
an obscure prescience of the necessity of <
their going, or of some blessing to come 1
oy means 01 h.
What blessing they knew not. They j 1
were in need of no blessings, as the work! i i
goes, for they were beloved by each 1
other and by troops of friends, were in j *
perfect health, were overflowing with J <
wealth; they lacked nothing but the buiss i
of children in the house, yet, lacking , '
that, it seemed to them they lacked <
everything. It was hard hi content '
^ themselves with children in heaven. *
^ They would have given all their wealth j
for one little laughing body toddling J 1
about the halls and walking into every <
one's favor, for the pure love of one Jittle 1
heart?while it lasts, the only utterly J ]
. disinterested and perfect affection in the f
world. 4'It is my punishment for the <
insane folly of that European trip," Mrs. <
Brenton used to sigh to herself, when 1
dreary weather or hapless memories 1
made her arms feel emptier than ever. (
*4 It is my punishment f?r remaining at j <
. home and letting her go abroad without ]
me," Mr. Brenton used to sigh. 44 Had '
I gone, they would have been lashed to '
me that night, and the wave never ran
that could tear them away." (
It was early afternoon wheu the storm !
began to blow about the house, and it 1
had not become extraordinarily fierce 1
till toward midnight, though an easterly 1
wind had been piling up the water along (
the coast for many days. But before
midnight Mrs. Brenton was pacing her
room and peering from the window; and ]
though sleeping an hour or two at a 1
time, they were both awake the greater
part of the night, and by the dim dawn- I
ing were eager to make" their way down 1
to the beach, some three miles distant, J
Mrs. Brenton casting a long glance at the
little empty bed beside her own as she ;
"" k 1 1 1
"went uown; ior sue always ieu go- ;
ing to" the bench in n storm as though 1
she were doing some expiatory duty to :
the little ones whose grave had been 1
made in the great cradle of the deep.
The rain had ceased, but the wind
still blew a hurricane; and Mr. Brenton,
bidding his wife put on her other wrap,
threw back the top of the phaeton to J
prevent its being blown over. And 1
when they reached the waterside it was 1
all they could do to make their way along
at a walk, for the sea had overflowed the '
highway, and was over the hubs of the j
wheels a large portion of the way, suck- .
ing back, with even' impulse of the tide,
so str< ngly that it seemed as if they must
go with it. As they rounded the bend ]
and came out upon the beach road, the 1
whole force of the gale threw itself upon j
them.
" VV? cVioll liaro tn nrn ha/>lf AfflV/' '
., ?e>~ ??? ? > (
said Mr. Brenton; " you can never stand
this." ' }
"Ob, I have stood -worse ones," she
answered. " Do let me go on." 5
" I don't know. It isn't a question i
of letting you. I doubt if it is pos- i
sible." i
" Oh, I must try?indeed I must! I '
couldn't go back." she cried. " It seems i
all the time as though I heard some one 11
calling me." And on they went.
It was a tremendous scene. Far as i
the eye reaclie<l, the gray expanse i
churned an angry yeast. Rank after
rank, the great black bodies of water,
rearing above the grayness, came rolling
p, breaking in a long cloud of foam, ;
: be
?
.ml crashing down on the retreating
ine of breakers before. They could not
lave told, as they gazed, where sky endd
and water began; and only dimly, far 1
iut in the bank of opening and closing
/Iio/inm f]?o nlmntnm
AfJWJL, t'WlUl. U1CJ VllOVVAU MAV I'??
ike outline of a bark with broken masts
(rifting helplessly in?a shapeless hulk,
rom which every now and then came
he awful thud of a minute gun.
"She will drift into the cove, and go !
o pieces on the inner breaker," said Mr. j
Jrenton. " Soon, at this rate of tide. 1
Chere go the hook-and-ladder boys," as '
he gallant firemen, who usually took
ipon themselves the part of salvation at i
k wreck, raced by. " Rookete and lines
snougli in the life Station !" shouted Mr.
Brenton, though the wind blew the
?ords down his throat. " I shall leave
rou in the tavern with Mr. Charles,"
mid he to his wife, "while I go down
aid have a look at things."' And pres- |
mtly the little inn came in eight behind
ts bulwark of sandhills, and they were
Iriving into the yard.
But what a desolation was the inn
tnd its s'.irroundings ! The sign and 1
he flagstaff had been prostrated by the
jale, and. the yard was a sheet of
mlt water, in which all the debris of
he place, the pigs, the aogs and
lie buckets, were promiscuously swimning.
The piazza was under water, the ,
ower floor of the house was all afloat,
he underpinning of the sheds and tieips
had given way, and the buildings
vere leaning to their fall, while the old
vind whitened willows looked like
vitches with their gowns tucked up as ;
hey stood in the overflow. Mr. Brenon
drove close to the bulwark of the !
mndhills, left his wife in the phaeton,
ind leaped out upon the sand, climbed j
he low mound, and ran down where the
nen had clustered and were at work
ipon the best they knew to save the i
nrreck.
Standing up in the carriaga, Mrs. j
Brenton could see all that went forward
lelow, could see the broad chest of the j
tea feathered in a thousand plumes of
mow, while she felt the shock of every j
(urge of the boiling surf, and trembled j
;very time the great spouts of foam went
lying high as clouds where the ledge !
an out to meet the open fury of the j
ashings billows. She could see, too, ,
he dead pall of the sky lift, shade by j
ihade, as the wind went hauling round
o the south ; could see the parting of I
hat vapor bank with the first full puff !
rom the south, and the wreck starting !
nit like a sudden creation, black with its 1
uin on all that tumultuous gray and
kilver, still slowly rising and falling and
Irlfting in with the tide. When she j
iurned her head she could see, also, the
ife in the inn yard, in curious prosaic
contrast in the tragic terror just beyond.
STot that you could call it everyday life,
jecause it was not every day that the
ittle pigs were swimming ronnd iu the
mrnvar 1. squealing as the Newfound
and swam after them and grappled an I
?ar ; it was not every day that the good j
averner, Mr. Charles, was wading about i
n his top boots, inspecting the general ;
out, of only a fraction of which lie was j
ret aware, rubbing his hands, and con- 1
lucking himself as if to have one's house
md goods afloat was a little occasional
eccentricity on the part of Providence :
vith which one must put up.
Then she turned her head and raw the '
vreck again, still drawing near and 1
nearer her dreadful doom with every j
;hrob of the surf, while the men ran to
md fro upon the shore, and the red stars
>f the rockets one after one went shootng
out and falling short of their mark. :
[t seemed to Mis. Brenton that she could
wen see the people crowded on the deck; ;
she fancied one figure was a woman with
i child in her arms, a woman standing J
ust as she had stood on that black, that
lorrid night, when the sea snatched her
larlings from her clasp. An agony of
pity overcame her as she thought these j
people could probably see her there in !
safety while. death was bellowing for
:hem. She sat down a moment and j
covered her eyes ; the sight aixl the i
nemory were too much for her; instinctive
pi ayers rose to her lips for the safety j
>f the wretches driving on so surely to
lestmction ; before she knew it she was
praying for that mother with the little '
?hild in her arms, was praying with all
lier heart for the little child.
Of a sudden, as she sat there with her
?yes closed, there was a shock as if the
sky had fallen and the earth had risen to
meet it; she sprang to her feet, and saw
that the wreck had struck, had struck
and parted, and a wild, wild wail, a
shores of despair, rose above the beating
of the waves.
Mr, Charles waded out to where the
phaeton stood up to its floor in water, on
one side of the yard, and handed her his
long spyglass. As she steadied it and
crazed with aching eyes at the horror,
there came one of those mighty throes
of the tide when the whole sea seems to
be heaved from its bed; the parted
wreck heaved with it, far, far up ; a cry
like the ghost of the first cry was heard
sweeping out and away, and in another
moment there was nothing to be seen,
neither wreck nor people ; they were as
att erly gone as if they had never been.
.4 long swift searching of the sea, and
then Mrs. Brenton leaped from the carriage
to the saud, climbed the mound,
and ran down the beach as fast as the
furious wind that swirled her clothes
aboat her would allow.
"'Don't you see it "she cried to her
husband, breaking in among the knot of
men who had been vainly trvii!& to
launch the lifeboat. "I have hardly
lost sight of it. There it is, to the left:
it is coming in fast, as if some great sea
monster were running under it. Here,
bike the erlass. and vou will see. It is
V. ' V
a. little child, dear, and its mother has
b< unci it in a cradle, and it is tossing on
the waves like those tubs in the yard.
Oh, the sea is giving us back something
for what it stole away !"
Mr. Brenton returned the glass in a
few seconds, while she stood trembling,
ai.d then, without a word, sprung iuto
d e lifeboat, as, at last, it rode triumphant
over the rollers. It seemed to Mrs.
Brenton as if she had endured scarcely
more when her own children were born,
as she waited there in that awful interval,
shaking with excitement, breathless,
uncertain what the moment would bring
forth. And when the boat's head came
round, she dared not look, till she heard
her husband's cheery halloa, and presently
a little slender wail that wenr. to
her heart. She ran down the beach in
:au]
AND PORT
BEAUFOKT, S.
'
7 r
the track of the receding wave; regardless
of her drenching, stretched out her |
arms, and her husband, springing ashore
as the boat pushed up the sand, put into
them a gTeat ten-months-old baby, wet
to the skin, crying faintly with fright
and cold, and ready to die from the exposure
had it continued longer. She >
did not stay to look at it twice, but ran
back to the shelter of the sandhills,
snatched off its saturated clothes, and
wrawAil it in her own*thick shawl rolled
over and over till it was swathed like an
Indian baby. Then she pnt its face
under her chin to warm it in her neck,
rocked it to and fro, lifted it up to gaze
at it again and to kiss it, and the child
opened a pair of great wide dark eyes !
and looked in her face and laughed.
Had heaven come down bodily, Mrs.
Brenton could have been no happier j
than she was that moment. 8he ran j
back to the phaeton and established her- j
self, and waited for her husband, while <
the child fell asleep in her arms; and J
she built castles for the little being's fa- j
ture, if no one should turn up to claim
him, and watched the doings in the inn
yard, where Mr. Charles was still inspecting
his losses and cracking jokes
with his subordinates.
" The barn floors have fallen out, sir,"
cried one of the hostlers; "the horses
are tied up still, and are holding on by j
their forelegs"?
"Would you have them hold on by
their two legs ?" asked Mr. Charles.
"That's what they're doing, sir. And
we must have help to pry them up."
" Get it! get it!" cried Mr. Chavles,
cheerfully.
" The fires in the kitchen are all burned
out, sir," called a maid. " The water's
over the stoves. *
" Where a good cook keeps it. But
build your fires up stairs ; victuals must
be cooked," said Mr. Charles, shuffling
on through the water. As he went, he
stopped and picked up something. " The
little white chicken !" said Mr. Charles,
in a tone Salvini could have envied, hold- j
ing it out on his broad hand. " My God!
the little white chicken is drowned !" and |
he burst into tears. He was sobbing
like a baby when Mr. Brenton came running
up the sand and got into the phseton.
The good gentleman took in the
situation at once, and the horse splashed
round by Mr. Charles.
"Here! here!" said Mr. Brenton,
leaning out and slapping the weeping !
man'8 shoulder; "take this and repair (
losses," and he pushed his wallet into the
man's hand. " More than this has been
given me to-day, Charles, and out of our
abundance we must help one another."
A nd lie drove on. leaving the man ready
to sit down in the water with bewilder- j
ment and joy.
44 My dear," said Mr. Brenton to his
wife, as they went their homeward way, ;
44 it seems a dreadful thing that such loss
and tragedy can bring joy with it too. I
And yet, since not a soul of all that ship- ;
load has come to shore alive, that little ;
white bed beside our own will never be .
empty again, please God."
Tasting of the Rector'8 Legs.
The rector of a rural parish in England
visited a lady parishioner who kept
a Pyreneean wolf-dog, and the good lady
took the young rector into the garden to
see the dog. He entered the garden a
placid, clean, and contented clergyman,
but he was destined to emerge from it
a demoralized, denuded, and partialiv ,
disintegrated man.
The dog was young, but had already j
learned the difference in flavor between j
the legs of the footman, the 44 buttons,"
and the housemaid. It certainly was not i
his fault that when he saw his first clergy
man, in the person of Rev. Dr. Owen, ;
he mentally remarked : 44 Here's something
new* in legs," and promptly proceeded
to collect data with a view to !
their classification as a species distinct
from the household legs with which he i
was already familiar.
No sooner had this enterprising animal I
made a few preliminary sniffs at Dr.
Owen's legs, and tasted a trifle of coattail,
than he retired a few paces, in j
order to get a fair start, and then sprang
upon his victim with violent and deterI
mined yells. For the next five minutes
the air was filled with fragments of cloth
and clergy-man, and a welkin, which
happened to be conveniently near, rang
like a patent railway switch bell. Mrs.
i Honey wood, with great presence of
; mind, went into the house for a broom
and dust pan, being unwilling mat a |
dissenting housemaid should have the !
privilege of sweeping up the rector. By j
| the time she hail returned to the scene !
i with her household implements the j
greater part of the rector had escaped
| over the paliDgs, and the infuriated dog j
! was worrying the lighter pieces that
1 liad been left behind. . , f
Fearful that (he accident might create
a coolness between herself and her j
i spiritual guide, Mrs. Honeywood wrote I
him a note> apologizing for the playful- !
ness of her pet, and hoping that it had j
not caused him "any inconvenience." j
She also sent him a partially chewed i
rag, remarking : "I found the inclosed
piece of cloth on the gravel walk, anil
send it to you, as I think it belongs to j
your great coat, and yon may be able
to put it in." Strange as it may seem,
this cheerful note did not produce the i
desired effect. The rector answered it,
lllll lit" IUDU I/1UVU1CU 41 uuiuuii/un mjuiiing
Mrs. Honeywood to answer the
charge of keeping a daugerous wild
beast, and she was lined $2.10 for inI
dulging in the luxury.
Life in a London Workhouse.
441 works in the laundry at the workhouse
from nine o'clock until five every
day, and sometimes I feels the want of
something," was the defense of a poor
old woman to the charge of having been
found 44drunk and incapable" in the
public streets. She was an inmate of St.
Giles' workhouse, and is over eighty-two
years of age.
If in that workhouse, which is filled
with plenty of younger and able bodied
persons, this poor old creature, who has
exceeded by thirteen long years the allotted
span, is made to work*in the foundry
for eight hours a day, all we oan say is
that it is simply monstrous. Our workhouses
were not intended to be slave yards.
The test of labor was never ir- ,
tended to be applied to octogenari: u>.
We trust that the guardians of St. Giles
will afford some explanation of this. It
l isdue to the public,~=JLoiidon Exainhier, j
FOR1
ROYAL C<
0.. THURSDAY, SI
ENGLAND'S EASTERN POLICY. !
The Tenor of the Speeches* of Earl Granville '
and the Martinis* of llartinifton.
Detailed reports of the speeches de
livered by Earl Granville in the House
of Lords, aud the Marquis of Hartington |
in the House of Commons, show that the
Liberal party intended to uphold the j
view that England should co-operate
with the other powers for the coercion
of Turkey, and even co-operate with j
Russia alone if the other powers declined
to act. Earl Granville said:
If the government influence were used 1
in persuading Europe in one body to
come forward and insist, as they have a
moral and just right to do, that Turkey
shall perform the promises she has so
long delayed, the result could not be :
doubtful. * It may be said you are not |
able to persuade the European powers,
but I am not sure that the impression
does not prevail that England is the only j
obstacle. At all events, you would not |
be much worse off after making the at- I
tempt. Will anybody tell me that if i
once the Turks got it into their heads?if (
they really believed that not only Eng- |
land but the whole of Europe is absolutely
and seriously in earnest in the
matter?that Turkey, which up to this
moment has been influenced by one power,
could resist the united powers of Europe?
I believe it would be utterly unnecessary
to resort to coercion; I believe,
if the government will follow that course,
they will meet with great success, and
they will receive the congratulations and
approval of all parties and all classes of
this country.
The Marquis of Hartington said:
There are some among us?I trust
that the government do not belong to the
number?who look with calmness, if not
satisfaction, at the prospect of leaving
Turkey and Russia fuce to face, and the
prospect of war between them. I ask
whether the danger of that position as
regards English interests has diminished
? Whether it has not rather increased
since the time when Canning, rather
than encounter the perils of such a situation,
rather than allow Russia to take
upon herself singly the task of enforcing
IPIU'AU V* o/l luon Atrrpofl
tilC piuywooio n luvu iiiva wvm
upon between England and Russia as to
the affairs of Greece, was willing even to
go the length of proposing to co-operate
with Russia for the purpose of attaining
the end in view. T am unwilling to believe
that the resources of diplomacy are
exhausted by the failure of the conference.
Of this at all events I am sure,
that the government will take a heavy
responsibility upon themselves if thev
do not strive to do everything in their
power to preserve concerted action
among the powers for the accomplishment
of those benificent ends for which
the conference lalwred, but unfortunately
labored vainly to attain.
' The Pyll Mall Gazelle, in a leading
article, says: '
Sir Stafford Northcote's speech in the
House of Commons can signify nothing
but this, that he cannot admit the great
powers have done with the proposals of
the conference because they have beeu
rejected by the Porte, nor allow that the
new Turkish constitution is to be taken ;
as an anSwcr to the wish and appeal of
the powers.
The Pall Mall Gazette thinks that
the government in the Lords and Commons
have spoken with different voices.
It adds:
Perhaps Midbat Pasha's fall and Edliem
Pasha's accession may have sug- j
gested to certain members of the administration
that Lord Salisbury's threatening
language at the close of the conference
may be repeated with advantage
now.
The Blue <?lass Cure.
Gen. A. J. Pleasonton has written ?
long letter to the Chicago Tribune on
the wonders of blue glass. The glass
which he uses is of a dark blue, the
color being derived from a preparation
of cobalt which is fused in the pot with !
the other ingredients. It is imported I
from France, and costs four times as
much as the Amprican window glass.
He gives in this letter his personal experience
as to the curative powers of blue
and sun light baths. In October last he
met with a very serious nocident in
alighting from a wagon in Philadelphia.
His physician said that there had been
no fracture of the ribs or bones, but that
he would suffer a long time from the (
effects of the shock and fall. Liniments
and plasters afforded no relief. He resolved
to try blue glass. " In my bathroom,"
he says, "I have a window with
a southerr exposure, arranged with alternate
panes of blue aud plain transparent
glass. Uncovering my back, I sat
with my back to the blue find sun lights
which were streaming through the window
into the bath-room. As sooife as
these lights began to fall upon my back
the pains began to-diminish, and at the
end of half an hour they had ceased altogether.
Toward evemng the pains returned,
but they were much less than
they had been before I had taken the
blue light bath, and during the night I
was easier than I hail been previously.
The next day I took another bath of blue
and sun lights, which effectually relieved
ule of every pain, and since then,
now about three months, I have not had
the slightest pain or sensitiveness in the
parts affected?three consecutive sun
and blue light baths having completely
removed every ill effect of my most serious
accident."
Turkey's Cirenlar Xote.
The circular of the Porte on the failure
of the conference, dated January
25, after recapitulating the arguments
justifying the rejection of the proposals
of the powers, comments in a
very contemptuous tone on the assertion
made by Gen. Iguatieff at the final sitting
of the conference, thRt the Porte by
its action had virtually abrogated the
treaty of Paris. The Porte declares that
nothing would have been easier for the
Turkish delegates, if they had considered
such a course expedient, than to
show that Gen. IgnatiefTs assertion was
defective both in form and substance.
The delegates, however, remained silent,
p Gen. Ignat.'efTs remarks were irrele1
a - 11? a#
van I I/O lilt UUJCUl ui mc wiiAUAcuwi
The European delegates by their silence
gave an unequivocal sign of astonishment
at the language in which Gen. Ignatietf
pretended to express the views of
the whole conference.
T T
JMMEROIAIi.
ARCH 8, 1877.
IN THE EVERttLADES.
A Slnry of the Semlnolr War la Florida? i
The Deadly .Swauip.
The exoloration of the everelades of
Florida bring to light many incidents of
the long and terrible Seminole war.
Beyond the " Mules'Wallow " there is
a marsh about which the most remarkable
stories are narrated. It is called
"Feather Bed Bay." No wild animal
when chased by the hunter was ever
known to cross it; the baying of the
hounds might force the deer a little way
from the firmer earth, but it would then
become alarmed with its rapid sinking
and struggle out even " into the jaws of
death." Under the tread of any living
thing upon the treacherous tussocks the
whole surface of the marsh will tremble
as if it were merely a floating scum on a
hidden depth of water. As one surveys
its tall furze and tufted grass, traversed
by the quivering undulations produced
by the breeze, and ponders on the frightful
stories of the lives which have been
smothered in the unfathomable slime,
his wonderment at the application of the
name of "Feather Bed Bay " ceases. It
was comparatively unknown to the whites
until one battle took place. The Indians,
in retreating, hoped by their superior
lightness of foot to cross the "Feather
Bed Bay " before thev were overtaken.
They would have avoided it had they not
been pressed very hotly, and by boldly
attaining the other shore they thought
that the whites would be induced to attempt
to follow them. But the trepidation
of the moment prevented the safe
passage upon which they had reckoned.
The surface of the bay shook under so
many moocasined feet, and warrior after
warrior sunk in the slime, his last breath
gurgling up like the croak of the frog at
twilight. To add to the horror of the
scene, which even to the heated whites
was repulsive, Indian women, whom runners
had warned of the nearing struggle
as they sat flaking on the margin of
"Sink o' Pinhooks," appeared on the
further side of " Feather Bed Bay,"
wringing their hands and tearing their
hair with terror as their husbands,
brothers, lovers and fathers struggled
with the strange cyclops. Some of them
even flung themselves with long resounding
and long remembered shrieks
into the fatal pool of mire and disappeared
with their defenders. Stalwart
wnm'crs -whosp oormerv flesh seemed to
" i ?r x ?n ?
hflve assumed a redder hne from having
been painted with the blood of the whites,
painfully struggled back to the shore,
with eyes glaring, tongues protruding
and faces streaked with sweat and gore.
There the whites, with the pasaicn of revenge
grimly burning in their eyes, stood
firing at the figures which were attempting
to reach the other side; and those
who struggled back, affrighted with
death in so sickening a form, were given
their quietus by blows inflicted with the
butts of their muskets, r Their bodies
were thrust back into the mire and never
seen more.
Fifty of the savages passed " Feather
Bed Bay" either by treading the tussocks
with superior quickness and agility
or by running aro >nd it with their utmost
speed. The latter example was
followed by many of the whites, who resumed
the pursuit, after preventing the
escape from the mire of two braves w jo
toiled nearly shoulder deep to the edge.
Some of the whites here turned hack,
but others, forgetting discipline and not
hearing the voice of command, pressed
on in hot pursuit The night had fallen
and the sound of breaking vines and
shrubs and the splashing of the water in
the morasses as the fugitives swept
through was all that guided the soldiers.
On, on, they went; the faint light o? the
moon only served to confuse all nether
objects, and the vistas of pine and cypress
assumed strange aspects as they
sped along. There was a sort of intoxication
in the wildness, weirdness and uncertainty
of the hunt. There was danger
of ambush by wild beasts as well as
! by savages. They heard the snarl of the
I panther over their heads frequently as
1 they passed into the dense tangle of the
palmetto hammocks or " tight eye"
jungles. But they were men who had
cause to thirst for the blood of the
Seminoles, and they kuew during these
hours of night only of the now near,
now distant, sound of their footsteps
| nd hated voices; sometimes the sobs of
the querulous squaws, sometimes the
defying yells of the liend like warriors.
Judging by the position of the moon,
they went eastward from the " Sink o'
Pinhooks," where there stood a few deserted
wigwams, crossed several streams
and " thicks," and finally approached a
large island in the midst of a great expanse
of water and forest. The island
was densely and closely shaded with
magnolias, bays and live oaks, and a
great camp fire in the center cast about
a wonderful glow, which disclosed to
them a circle of many wigwams. The
Indians stood at bay and renewed the
fight. But they were surprised by the
sudden apparition of their pursuers,
who, they supposed, had been baflled by
the tortuous and tangled way which they
had led them. The Soldiers dashed in
upon them and killed a squaw, but they
were quickly surrounded by more Indians
than they had expected to encounter,
and could only cut their, way back
into the morass, from which they main
tained an occasional fire at the figures
which ventured out of the wigwam#.
They related that some of these were
negroes. They then plunged backward
the way that they had come, and about
sunrise found themselves at the Lower
Pinhook Sink.
I"
Two Odd Dreams,
An exchange tells a story of a gentleman
who, on going to bed, lost a collar
button, which on coming detached rolled
to a distant corner of the room. He
; searched for it about ten minutes, and
then gave it np for lost. In the night
he dreamed that he found it under the
washstand, and on waking up found it in
that spot. This isn't half so odd as the
ca^e of a man who lost a valuable horse,
and before going to bed ate a Welsh rareI
bit. He dreamed his horse was in a village
church fifteen miles away, and was quietly
consuming the hair in the pew cushions,
having left the buggy on the pulpit steps.
When he awoke next morning he found
rlmf in rpftlifvn. neighbor's bov had found
the horse and vehicle and had put it up
in a livery stable until be could claim a
reward.
RIBI
?. ' 'i * ' * .?
i
$2,06 per J
The Scarlet Fever.
I It is as unnecessary for a child to die
of scnrlet fever, says Good Health, as it .
is that it should be blind with eataract.
Let us see : At any time before the
body has linished its effectual struggle
we are able to help it, not by wonderful
j medicines, but by the knowledge of
, anatomy and the application of commo n
sense. We consult the sympathetic
nerve, and do what it commands us to
f do. We must give this child salt when :
j it wants it; we must give it acid when it;
has fever?not vinegar, but lemon juice, ,
, because the first coagulates albumen J
1 and the latter does not on account of the '
i surplus of oxygen which it contains. To
; imitate the soothing mucous in the intestines,
which is now wanting, and to i
1 give some respiratory food at the same )
1 time, we add gum-arabic. To restore j
i and relieve the injured nerve we applv \
j moist warmth. In practice we can ful- j
till all this with the following simple ma- j
! nipulations: Undress the child and
; bring it to bed at the very first sign of
I sickness. Give it, il it has already fever,
; nothing but warm, sourish lemonade, 1
] with some gum-arabic in it Then cover
its abdomen with some dry flannel. Take 1
1 a well-folded bed sheet,* and put it in j
; boiling hot water; wring it out dry by j
j means of dry towels, and put this over ;
(the flannel on the child's abdomen, j
Then cover the whole and wait The hot
! cloths will perhaps require repeated !
j heat.
According to the severity of the case
and its stage of progress, perspiration
will commence in the child in from ten
minutes to two hours. The child then '
) is saved; it soon falls asleep. Soon
after the child awakes it shows slight
: symptoms of returning inclination for
food; help its bowels, if necessary, with :
I injections of oil, soap, and water; and
its recovery will be as steady as the
growth of a green-house plant,, if well
' Af oniirae if fhp ftVlild WOK ill- 1
UCOl^Ut VI WU*W| M VMW
ready dying nothing could save it, or if
has effusions in the lining oi the heart
or brain it is much better it should die.
But if the above is applied under the j
eyes and direction of a competent physi-:
cian I will guarantee that not one in a
hundred children will ever die of scarlet1
fever. I know this will startle some of
my readers, especially those who have
lost children already, but I shall go still.
I further. I maintain that a child will
i never get scarlet fever if properly treat
; ed. If a child has correctly mixed
; blood it will not catch the disorder if
1 put in bed with a sick child. This is i
still more startling, but nothing is easier '
of proof.
Croup in Children.
! This disease causes death by suffbca-'
; tion. The entrance of the windpipe is
; very small; a little cold eauses the lining
of the part called the mucous mein1
brane to swell. This diminishes the
I sub-mucous infiltration?that is, this
j mucous membrane, being inflamed,
, throws out an extra amount of fluid, like 1
the eye, when it is inflamed. This fluid j
1 hardens and forms at length a kind of
a layer, which is sometimes of an almost
leathery toughness, increasing in thickness
until the orifice is so nearly closed
that the breath is obstructed. Nauseating
medicines dilute this formation and
thus aid to bring it away. A favorite
i prescription for a quarter of a century
I with eminent physicians was.to mix a
teaspoonful of powdered alum with a
little sugar to make it palatable. The
immediate effect is to nauseate, giving '
i great relief in a minute sometimes.
Flannels dipped iff- ice cold water, i
changed every two minutes, and squeezed
a little so as not to dribble juid wet the
clothing, is an excellent remedy* because
it cools the parts and diminishes
the amount of blood sent there, and as the
nh lea in miule out of the blood. a less
amount is made and relief is certain. 1
But flannel dipped in water as hot as can
' be borne and applied to the part,
changed every two minutes, carries off
the heat by evaporation, and irritating
j the surface, brings the blood away from
the interior and thus diminishes the
phlegm. ___
A Rich Shoemaker.
In the taxables of Brooklyn, says a j
! local paper, appears the name of a Gerj
man whose annual payments for taxes I
i exceed those of many of the so-called i
princely merchants who live on the
; Heights. He pays taxes yearly upon
real 'and personal property assessed at'
j $250,000, but wortli probably double
i that amount. Yet this man works hard 1
at the bench every day, and if he spends j
a dollar in recreation for his wife and |
children on Sunday he thinks it is a big :
thing. He has no help, but works for a
few customers, doing all their work and ;
i caring nothing about any of them. If
they are displeased with his way of
doing things he simply says they can j
take their work elsewhere, and he sorely j
tries their patience by his habit of disappointing
his customers as to time.
This man collects his own rents, builds
I two or three new houses every year, and
from his frugal habits promises, if his
I life is long spared, to be one of the
wealthiest of all the Brooklynites. His
yearly income from real estate is not less
than $15,000 per annum, t>ut he regards
j idleness as a sin, and works away every
1 1 okrvno no i*nnni1av1v
I LlELJf UpOU OUUU5 UUU DliUCO ttO
as if Jiis bread and butter were in jeopardy.
"
A Hawk Among: Hens.
Gilbert White tells a most dramatic
I story of a neighbor who hail lost most of
his chickens by a sparrow hawk that
came gliding down between a faggot
pile and the end of his house, to the
place where his coops stood. The owner,
vexed to see his llrtc&s diminishing, hung
a net between the pile and the house,
into which the bird dashed and was entangled.
The gentleman's resentment
suggested a fit retaliation ; he therefore
clipped the hawks wings, cut off his
' talons, and, fixing a cork on his biM,
I threw him down among the brood hens,
i ''Imagination," says Mr. White, "cannot
paint the scene that ensued; the ex1
pression that fear, rage, and revenge in'
spired were new, or at least such as had
I been unnoticed before; the exasperated
j matrons upbraided, they execrated, Ih ;y
insulted, they triumphed. In a worii,
they never desisted from buffeting their
adversary till they had torn him in a
i hundred pieces.?Scribr\fir.
Mr. riwwr a UUUWUBIUU to V
ieaof "seaserpeota," therefore, are not
. unreaeonable.
?
JNEr
?.-*- ?f?i.
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, ,.>.J';fit
Inin. Single Copy 5 CeDts. ,.,
_____. -.
A abtw. sU*j; ? ?? <?"
""J ' ? U f,' !
On board the United States stonraer ,
Tennessee a pleasant minstrel entertain- ?? ,
ment was given by the enliBted men.Among
the features of the performance
was a " Chinese Opera," composed by a
well known sailor poet and author, Willis,
a quarter-gunner on the ship, who'eomeh
honestly by his knack at rbyffie, being a
1?:? ~* n Win;. TA ia onnrwiAArl
lie f J Lie w ui ii. x. nuuD. ui ? ~~rr
to be sung in tlie character of a Chinese
tailor, who sought a contract for supplying
the crew with clothing. 1ew, }
Ob, the other day as Isecheein # shoo.
Hi yah, cumnhaw, ' '
Heardee big ships' guns m&kee noise, pop I
pop!
Likee muchee cumahaw me !
I quickee catchee sampan, makee look see, * ;
Hi yah, cumshaw, y , ,
Big 'Mellican war junk Tennessee,
Likee muchee cmnshaw me.
chobus. )
Hi yah for te 'Mellican ship,
Makee pieatee pigeon for me,
Catchee plentee dollar all day long
From the war junk Tennessee.
Oh, sailor man he speakee much chin-chin,
Hi yah, cumahaw,
Makee tailor clothes, they no fittee him,
Likee muchee cumahaw me.
'Spoeee no likee, me no cue.
Hi yah, enmshaw, * *
Me makee for to sellee, no makee for. to wear. If
Likee muchee cumahaw me.
[Cbohis.] ' " ;
Oh, sailor man makee oome ashore for a spree,
Hi yah, cumahaw, t >
Drinkee muchee samahoo, and lookee for me,
Likee muchee cumshaw me,
Me runnee bellee fast, but he catches by-nndbye,
' I i
Hi vah, cumshaw me,
Makee muchee bobbaree, and Mtteesd?,e eye.
Too muchee cumshaw far me. . ?
[Chorus:!1 r
" Cumshaw," it may be explained, is a
very expressive word on the China const,
signifying any kind of bribei. and
argument for custom that the QhpstyffB,.
traders know how to use,
1 ? 1 ornms
Items of Interest.
? s t>f , #
In our infancy we cut our teeth; in
our old age our teeth cut ua. , rf
A crirl Atitimnted to walk .the. ridffQ..
p&ie of a house in "Warren, Texas, having "
made a bet that she could' do so. She *
fell off and broke both her legs. .1* * * * I
A company of mounted robbers jihad '
into Eagle Pass, Texas, and shot all the
horses, cows, and dogs in the place, in
revenge for the hanging of their companions.
' * r" ' '
A young woman stepped out on shah'
cony in Paducah,but the aedcrurit says i
that "the balcony wasn't these, aud'i
never had been," A broken leggras t^e<,
Consequence.
Says the Detroit Free frew: rlf Rpqsia
won't fight and Turkey won't fight
and England has crawled into a cave, F
grocers might as well come down- ia the
price of dried apples. .w<m< u
The Chicago sioueeotteis' union sent a
roan to urge the Illinois Legislature to
prohibit the employment of convict labor,
and it was discovered that he had learned
his trade in the penitentiary. *
"What," asked an Arkansas paper,
"shall we do with the school money ?"'
We should say that in Arkansas, the best
thing you can do is to spend il before '
the treasurer steals it, says an exchange
"Smoky Jones," known throughout
the Black Hills as a vagabond, has become
suddenly wealthy by discovering'
end selling gold veins. He gained Mr
nickname by long difaee of soap, and!
wealth makes no change in his habits. dr
The Russian budget for 1077 shows
the public revenue for the post year to
have amounted to 570,778,000 roubles,
and the expenditure to 568,770,000
roubles. The estimated expenditure for
v1877 shows an increase of 3,500,000
roubles. . .. , ?
Two women and a man axe,under arrest
in Philadelphia. " They comprise
the Charity Relief Association. They
hired a house, put out a sign, collected
frtrm tmriBTniont nawntia.
pgcketed tiie proceed*., "they are said
to have operated in the some manner in
other cities.
A beautiful country - girl grew indignant
at a Madison (Wis.) hotel clerk because
he presumed to run into her sleeping
room and throw open the windows
and turn off the gas, which was escaping,
and would soon hare mhde her an
angel. She had blown the thing out, as
she would a candle. if
"Yon would make a most beautiful
j actress in the drama of life,"- whispered
I a poetical Chicago youth to hb inamorata
the other evening, 14 Indeed, 'tis so-^you
would be a very star 1" 44 And yon,'**
murmured the fair one, as she leaned op
his shoulder?" w-wouldn't y-you like to
support me ?" Now he . supports her
regularly. k
Avalanches of formidable sizfe are common
in this winter of deep snow op the
Western mcuntains. In Wyoming , a
blast in a mine loosened the snow on the
surface above, and fonr men were carried
with frightful velocity down a steep descent,
one of them being killed. In Nevada
a cabin was Swept away, and three
men who were in it were killed.
Mabel Hall, a ballet girl, was murder
- * - Oi T
, ed in tiie green room ot a on. UUUiO
1 theater by a jealous lover, and he is now
on trial. In the court room a table and
| chairs were arranged like the furniture
I in the room where the murder was committed,
and an actor, as a witness, described
the crime by imitating the km|
gnage and movements of the murderer.
| A youngster being required to write
i a composition upon some portion of the
! human body selected that which unites
, the head to the body, and expounded as
I follows: " A throat is oenvenient to
have, especially to rooetera and minis I
ten. The former eats the corn, and
crows with it; the latter preaches
through his'n, and then ties it up. This
is pretty much all I can think of about
necks."' i t
Richard A. Proctor, writing about the
> probability of there really being such
things as " sea serpents, says it is not
likely that naturalists know all the forms
of animal* that exist in the oceans. He
reminds ua that, the first account of a
: giraffe was laughed at, that the gorilla
was for a long time disbelieved for, and
that those who originally described a
gigantic cuttlefish were regarded aa bars.
- n 1? < fW star.