Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THI ? VOL. V. NO. 2( Wine and Glory. A fly, on#the brink of a tankard, was sipping The rich mantling wave of the ripe Rhenish wine ; " Oh, what are you doing ? yon rush to your ruin! Be wise, foolish fly, and to reason incline!" Thus argued another, careering in gladness, Around the bright flame of a taper afar, 'All drinking's a folly and brings melancholy; Take warning and shun it, lost fly that you are! " how ft. oAssion more noble should move you; 'Tie glory alone has a charm in my eyes ; Whatever betide me, its radi&noe shall guide me; Good-bye. silly toper! and learn to be wise.' Thus saying, he sported his wings for a minute, Then flew to the light that so tempted his gaze: But burring his pinions in glory's dominions, He fell in the candle and died in a blaze. " Alas !" cried the fly that was perched on the tankard, " Can aught for the want of self know ledge atone? We rail against others, see faults in our brothers, And blame every folly and vice but our own." But whether this fly was oonverted from toping' Or led a new life, is not easy to say ; But if flies are like drinkers/mong two-legged thinkers, 'Tis likely he sips the bright wine to this day. A Gambler's Remarkable Escape. A well known correspondent, being detained at Milan, Tennessee, recently. /innoinlanan i i muo uuu awjiuuiiiauw va viw? aa* a^v? v*, the gambler. He is a gentlemanly looking person of forty-seven, dark sandy hair, light sandy wliiskers, beginning to show the silver; a quick, piercing gray eye, ruddy complexion, is of good address, and a sweet talker. He was born in Ohio, but for thirty years has been a gambler. While operating on the Shortline road, near Lagrange, he won about $1,800 and live gold watches,and ended the game just as the train was leaving Lagrange on its way to Cincinnati. The victims squealed terribly, and proposed to have their treasure or blood. They marshaled their forces and drew their revolvers. Devol skipped into the rear coach, locking the door as he went. He then went to the rear platform, and, although the train was running at the rate of thirty-five miles au hour, selected a clear spot and jumped. He rolled over at a lively rate, but picked himself up unhurt, though his late friends fired a volley at him from their revolvers. He cut across the country and struck the railroad at Lexington junction, and went back to Louisville. " The closest place I was ever in in my life," said Devol, " was in '50. I was coming up the river from New Orleans in the steamer Fairchild, and had won a great deal of money. 'J he boat landed at Napoleon, and about twenty-five of those killers there, who, in those days, did not think any more of killing a man than they did a rat, got aboard. I opened out and won a good deal of money and four or five watches. Everything went along smoothly enough until about four o'clock in the afternoon, when they begun to get drunk. One^of them said: 'Where is that blasted gambler; I am going to kill him!' 'I'm with you,' said another. 'I, too,' said another. And the whole party rushed to their state-rooms and got their pistols. I slipped up and got between the pilot-house and the roof. They now searched the boat from stem to stern, but did not once think of looking under the pilot-house. I whispered ^ to the pilot that when he came to a bluff bank to throw her stern in and give me the word, and I would run and jump off. At about six o'clock he gave me the word, and I run and jumped. I was weighted down with the watches and gold I had won, and the distance was more than I thought, and I missed the bank and stuck tight, waist-deep, in soft mud at the water's edge. The killers saw me, and as the boat swung out they opened fire. I could not move, and the bullets whistled past my ear and spattered mud and water all over my face." Point D'Alencon Lace. It is estimated that there are 500,000 lace-makers in Europe, of whom nearly one-half are employed in France. Almost all of the latter work at home. Of the French laces, the most noted is the point d'Alencon, which has had a wide celebrity for more than two centuries, and has been styled the queen of lace. It is made entirely by hand with a tine needle on a parchment pattern, in small pieces, which are afterward united by invisible seams. The firmness and solidity of the texture are remarkable. Horsehair is often introduced along the edge to -give firmness.. Although the workmanship of this lace has always been of great beauty, the designs in the older specimens were seldom copied from nature. This circumstance gave a marked advantage to the laces of Brussels, which represented flowers and other natural designs with a high degree of accuracy. The defect, however, has disappeared in the point d'Alencon of recent manufacture; at the Paris Exposition of 1867 were specimens containing admirable copies of natural flowers intermixed with grasses and ferns. Owing to its elaborate construction, this lace is seldom seen in large pieces. A dress made oi point d'Alencon, the production of Bayeux, consisting of two flounces and trimmings, were exhibited at the Exposition of 1867, the'price of which was 8o,00C francs. It required forty women seven years to complete it. lTp in a Balloon. During July an aeronautic convention will be held in Philadelphia. Professor Coleman will then attempt to cross the Atlantic in an air ship, constructed on a new model, and which will be inflated with hot air instead of gas. Arrangements are also in progress for a grand easterly current balloon race between six of the prominent aeronauts of this country, the six balloons to ascend simultaneously from West Philadelphia, and the aeronaut making the greatest distance in an easterly course from the point of departure to be declared the champion aeronaut of the United StAtes, and receive a gold medal. 3 BE J ? ). "i i" Ages of Our Presidents. General Grant is one of the three l Presidents of the United States who have passed their fiftieth birthday in the executive office?the other two being Mr. Polk, who entered the office about seven months before he was fifty years old, and General Pierce, who became President in his forty-ninth year. General Washington was in his fifty-eighth year when i he became President : John Adams was in his sixty-second ; Jefferson in liis 1 fifty-eighth; Madison in his fifty-eighth; : Monroe in his fifty-ninth; John Quincy Adams in his fifty-eighth; General Jack! son in his sixty-second ; Van Bnren in j | his fifty-fifth; General Harrison in his I | sixty-ninth ; Tyler in his fifty-second ; ! ! General Taylor in his sixty-fifth; Lincoln ' in his fifty-third, and Johnson in his j j fifty-seventh year. General Harrison | was the oldest man ever elected to thj I Presidency, and General Grant the youngest. Washington, Jefferson, Madison and John Quincy Adams were in , their fifty-eighth year when they entered I the Presidency; Mr. Monroe completed his fifty-ninth year only fifty-five days after he became President, and Johnson was in his fifty-sixth year when he sue- j eeeded President Lincoln. Four Presi- ' dents went out of office in their sixtyI fifth year?namely, Washington, John ! Adams, Jefferson and Madison. Presi| dent Jackson was the oldest of our retir! ing Presidents, as he went out of office ! only eleven days before the completion of his seventieth year. Mr. Buchanan ' left office fifty days before he became i seventy years old. The President who i lived longest was John Adams, who died in his ninety-fifth year. The next oldest i was. MadisOD, who died in his eighty- i fourth year; John Quincy Adams was in i i his eighty-first year, Van Bnren in his j eightieth, General Jackson in his seven- ^ i ty-eightli year. The youngest retiring , i President was General Pierce, who went | out of office not quite four months after ' j he had completed his fifty-second year. ' j Mr. Polk retired in his fifty-fourth year 1 | and died in a little more than three ] months later, at the age of fifty-three j years, ^even months and thirteen days, j nil Aim in j | tilt? j uuu^csb ui ail i/ux jl a voiuvuMj jui death. \ ! ' ? i The Court Indignant. At a late hour John Johnson stood i under an awning waiting for the rain to slack up. Along came a stranger, who j sought the same shelter, and remarked : ' 44 This rain will do the grass good." 44 Yes; and it will also help wheat," replied Johnson. I! 44 Nice for flower-beds," continued the ! i man. j ( 44 And splendid for grape-vines," said j ] Johnson. 44 How mysterious are thy works, oh, ; nature!" sighed the stranger, after along j] pause. J1 44 And what poor worms of the dust :; we folks are," sighed Johnson, and that was the last he knew until he found him- , self at the station. He said he thought he had been struck by lightning. 44 There was neither thunder nor | lightning all night!" indignantly exclaimed the court. 44 You were drank,!: sir, and the officer found yon dripping J wet and without sense enough to tell the American flag from a clothes-pin. Don't try to come any thunder and lightning j game on me." " Do you suppose yon hear all the thunder there is around ?" softly asked the prisoner. "Yes, sir, and about everything else ; i and I don't want any impudence, either. I You are sent up for thirty days." "I'll take paris green and die on the way up there!" said the man. "Very well, sir. The Black Maria j passes a graveyard, and it will be no trouble to toss you over the fence. Don't take too much of the poison if you , want a good effect.?Detroit Free ! Preas." ' mm ' From the Mouth of Babe*. I It was at a grand dinner given to a ; select number of guests, when a certain j pompous Mr. B. was smilingly welcomed i j by the P. 's in the most gracious manner, j I as though he were one held greatly in , ! their esteem. But at this moment, Master Pappleton, a bright youngster of | seven, suddenly addressed the big-feel- ! ing gentleman in a voice distinctly audible to every visitor present, with the i J query : i "Mr. B., when you were a little boy, ! i did your ma's cook stove have a poor | bake oven ?" " Well, reallv, my dear boy," the gen-1 | tleman replied, " I don't remember. I But why do you wish to know!" Here the pa and ma of young Papple- | { ton gave frantic looks to choke down j their beloved offspring; but he blundered J i on without the slightest check : "Oh, because, when you were coming j up the walk, I heard ma say she did not : believe vou were more than half baked !" i " ? Youthful Beggars. Two tiny beggar girls were brought ; into a police court in New York city by ' an officer, who found them' begging in ' rinn'troa TflOra )T Uliaui OlICCl. VUK nuo II1UVV J VXAU | old, the other six. They "were poorly j clad, cold and wet from exposure to the i rain. Both of them sobbed bitterly as the oldest told her little story : Father and mother both out of work, and the i 1 family lived on what these two mites \ could' beg from down town restaurants, and the earnings of a brother by boot| blacking after school hours; occasionally, ' also, the father found an "odd job." " The judge asked if they would not like to be in a good home, where they would ! 1 not need to beg. Both sobbed faster I 1 than before, while the older replied : " I; 1 don't want to leave me mother." Arrangements were made to investigate | their case, and for the time being they j were sent home. 1 Centennial Hotels at Auction. > The Globe Hotel, opposite the Expo- ; i sition gates at Philadelphia, has been 1 sold under the auctioneer's hammer for : 83,475. It cost, exclusive of its furni- j [ ture and fixtures, $160,000, and its j i shareholders have lost twenty per cent, j i of their entire investment. The Trans1 continental Hotel, across the street, netted above cost and all expenses, $75,; 000 to its owners. Tuft's soda wate? i palace, just north of the Globe, where > the calliope used to shriek and nimble, i cost $12,000, and was sold at auction for i 8175, j :au 1ND PORT BEAUFOET, ? THE SEJ i\ l\M H'Sl\ ?^j0* jjV % | %&&$ Map of the Eastern War. The map which we publish this week, tinder an arrangement with the New York Herald, will afford our readers a comprehensive view of the locality and movements of the Russian and Turkish irmies in Asia Minor, to which attention lias been drawn by recent events. At the beginning of hostilities it was supposed the first clash of arms would occux in Europe; but the Russian campaign thus far has been confined principally tc Asia Minor. Bajazid, a fortified town southeast of Kars, has been abandoned by the Turks and occupied by the Russians without a blow, the Turks leaving behind them a supply of ammunition and retiring to Toprak Kaleh or Van. H a battle is to be fought by the late Turkish garrison of Bajazid it will, in all probability, be on the road to one ol these places. If the Russian troops succeed in isolating Kars from the main body of Turkish troops, the Turks will be compelled to fall back upon Erzeronm. Meanwhile the Kussian army along the Danube remains inactive, probably awaiting a further move westward of the army in Asia Minor before taking any decisive step. Should the Russians succeed in taking the town oi Silistria, on the Danube, the Turks wil] be driven to Schumla and the Balkan range. HAPPY AT LAST. 441 do wish. Marguerite, you'd listen to com mon sense," Baid Mrs. Dale. Mrs. Dale was sitting by a table opposite t< a rose-twined window, whence a lovely summei landscape stretched itself away ? greet meadows, braided with the silver band of t tiny river, and clusters of woods seeming tc lean against the sky. She was a widow who had not yet lost all tin fair rounded otitlines of her girlish beauty, oi the luxuriant auburn braids of her yet un silvered hair. And Marguerite, her lovely daughter, sat or the other side of the table, the slanting sun light touching her golden tresses, and her daz zling complexion seemed purer and more lik< & newly blossomed sweet pea than ever, bv con trast with her light dress. 44 Well, mamma," Marguerite Dale spok< almost recklessly, 44 what would von have ra< do?" 44 Mr. Alcotte has proposed to von?" 4Yes." Marguerite's hand involuntarily closed ovei the open letter lying in her lap, while sh< turned her face suddenly away, as if the glov of the noon sunlight hurt her eyes. 44And you actually intend to refuse him?' persisted Mrs. Dale. Marguerite shuddered slightly. Then rising, she crossed to her mother's side and placing her hand on the back of her chair looked down into the upturned face. 44 Mamma, would vou.have me marry a mai whom I do not love ?' 44 My dear, my dear," reasoned the mother 44 this idea of love is purely visionary. Tru< happiness is founded solely on esteem." 44 Mamma, that's nonsense!" 44 Marguerite!" 44 Well, mamma, it is. And I am not goinj to barter away the gold of mv heart for an; such dry leaves of theory. 1 love one mai only?and that is GeofTrev Rossmore. And will never marry anyone else." "But, Marguerite, dear"?Mrs. Dale wa half frightened by the vehemence of he daughter's manner?"Geoffrey Rossmore i dead." " How do I know that he is dead ? The shi] was lost?but there have been many instance in which one or two. or even half a dozen per sous, have survived a worse shipwreck thai that And I know?oh, mamma, I feel it ii my soul that he is not dead. My heart wouli not beat now wero there not an answerinj throb to it somewhere in this wide world." "Then where is he? How do you accoun for this long and unbroken silence on his part? demanded Mrs. Dale. "I don't account for it mamma?I onl; trust." "Marguerite," pleaded her mother, " he ha forgotten yon, even if he is still alive. Giv him up. Prove your womanly pride and spirit. But Marguerite resolutely "snook her head. "My daughter," went on Mrs. Dale, "Mr Alcotte is your uncle's friend. One reason o my coming to your uncle's house this summe was to afford you this golden opportunity Here it lies at your feet?wealth, ease, a lui uriant home for your mother, as well as your self "? " Mamma, I would rather go out working b the day," interrupted Marguerite. "Work, then, ungrateful girl!" burst on Mrs. Dale, angrily. " For I certainly shall n longer remain a "pensioner on Colonel Dale' bounty, since you nave contemptuously spurne his be'st friend from you. Sew?scrub^-teachwhatever suits you best. Something it is neces sary for you to "do, and that quickly." Marguerite retired, pale and silent, and wen to her uncle's room. Colonel Dale was bending absorbedlv ove some letters?he looked up with a start a Marguerite entered. " Well. Peggy," he said, caressingly, for hi pretty niece was rather a favorite with hinr "have you come to tell me you will be Fernand Alcotte's wife?" "No, uncle," answered Marguerite, firmly. " Why not?" demandedthe old man. "Ido not love him." "Well," said Colonel Dale, intently watch ing her, "and why don't you love him? Ar vou still thinking of that ne'er-do-well, Gcoffre llossmore. who was shipwrecked s't month ago?" ' ; pangs 01 jeaiousv. aiiu ?ucu, ??. d^, . lt J quest of a distant cousin placed me above i 0 i want, I decided to leave this country forever. 8 i And thus it happens that I engaged" a passage ; " 1 in this vessel" "But, Geoffrey "?with a smile and blush? h "you?you will not go now ?" "Not if you will stay in England with me," 't said Mr. Rossmore. Mrs. and Miss Gerard went to Italy without r a maid, and had No. 14 all to themselves. 8 Colonel Dalo and his sister-in-law have concluded that it is useless to enter the lists j 8 against love ; and Mr. and Mrs. Geoffrey Ross- ; '? more aro happy at last When you see a young mas and a young lady walking along the street, she reverentially plying him with questions, l" and he earnestly looking into the windows, j ? be sure that thev are husband and wife. \ If she were not his wife he would do all the talking, FOR' ROYAL OC i. C., THURSDAY, iT OF WAR IN El "168, uncie, uen[)?iruj^i? uicu uut ui?guerite, "lam still thinking of him. I am his affianced wife, and will be faithful to him as long as I live." '' Then you are a fool," slowly uttered Colonel Dale, a savage frown knitting his brows. "Uncle," went on Marguerite, unheeding his last remark, " will you help me to get a ! 1 situation ?" i " No," thundered the irate man, " I won't!" j That was the end, of course, of their easy ' going life at Dalewood Place. Mrs. Dale and Marguerite went into cheap , j lodgings. Mrs. Dale spent her time, like Niobe, " all i i tears." , j Marguerite toiled from plate to place in i search of any work which might keep starva- i 1 i tion from their door. 1 And in the midst of all this Mr. Alootte re- j newed his offer. Mrs. Dale brightened visibly. ; " Oh. Marguerite, you never will refuse him I [ a second time ?" : "Mamma," said Marguerite, "I have not i : changed my mind in any respect. I would j . rather starv e than sell myself for gold!" , ".Very well," said Mrs. Dale, setting her i ; teeth together. "I have endured the conse : quences of your caprices long enough. I will i go back to Dalewood. Your uncle offers me a ! home." i " Good," said Uncle Dale, when the mother [ arrived at Dalewood. "There's nothing like 1 extreme measures. She can't hold out long ' ! now. We shall have her back here eating ' j 4humble pie' in less than a month." But there was more resource and resolution ; in Marguerite's character than either her moth- ' er or her uncle gave her credit for. , One morning she was asked by a gentleman | ! if she would accept a situation. 1 ! " Give me something to do," said she, de[ ! spairingly ; " I don't care what it is." I ' "Will von go abroad as companion to a crazy 1 lady?" dubiously inquired the other. "Good i i salary, but troublesome place. The lady's i mother goes with her, too, but"? " Yes,' said Marguerite, "I will go." i Mrs. Gerard knew nothing about traveling? ; j Miss Gerard was possessed with a general idea j i?that a regiment of soldiers was following her to , I shoot her do^rn?and between them both our j I little heroine had but a sorry time of it But she persevered, smiling and resolute, as ; if her heart were not growing faint within her. I ' ' It was the day appointed for the sailing of j ' | the vessel, and the three ladies had come on ! I I KnarH?XIra fi?rord riflrvniin and flurried. Miss ! , VA , 1 Gerard perpetually watching an opportunity to | * escape tne vigilance of her guardians, and Mar- j guerite worn and wearied with the cares of 1 ' packing. r j "Here's a mistake," cried out Mrs. Gerard. ' j " I thought we had engaged No. 14."' "So we did," said Marguerite. 1 ! " And here's the officer says No. 14 was taken ' I a month ago, and there's some mistake, and we | ' shall have to go in a dark, stuffy little hole un5 I dor the wheel. Oh, dear! oh, dear!" " I "I am sorry, ma'am," said the officer, "but j it is the only* state-room left. Perhaps, how5 ever, the gentleman who has engaged No. 14 i j might be wiling to give it up to the ladies if"? "Dear Marguerite, do ask him," said Miss ' j Gerard, bursting into feeble tears. Marguerite hesitated. r i It was not a pleasant mission, but there ij seemed no alternative. r , Conducted by the stewardess, she knocked at , ! the door of No. 14, one of the best cabins on i board. j "If you please, sir," said the voluble woman, j j " here's three ladies as supposed they were to ? ! have 14, and there's only 9 left, as there's no > j ventilation and only two single berths, and if you wouldn't mind changing' ? 1 " The state-room door opened. A tall figure darkened its exnanse, and Mar? guerite dropped her traveling snawl with a low j I cry. ! " Geoffrey ! oh, Geoffrey!" i " Marguerite, is it possible that this is you?" | "Yes," said Marguerite, recalling herself in5 stantly. "I am going to Italy." y His face blanched. J A hard, strained look came into all the feaI tures. "On your wedding tour, I suppose ?" said! 8 he. "I"have heard of Mr. Alcotte's devotion." ' r' "No," answered Marguerite, quietly; "as 8 ! companion to two ladies. I am earning my own , living now, Geoffrey. Uncle has turned me out P j of doors, and even mamma has left me." 8! "Why?" The word escaped like a fluttering bird from a between his closed hps. 8 j "Because I have refused to marry Mr. Al^ ; cotte. Because I was true to the man who, it ? seems, has forgotten me." "Never, Marguerite!" he cried. "My treas- , * ure -my love, listen, and you yourself will confess that I am guiltless of blame." And then, still standing in the ftf&te-room Y ' door, Geoffrey Rossmore told her of his ship- ! wreck and of the long fever that ensued and 8 j his slow homeward progress. ? ' He had written more than once, it seemed, but his letters, intrusted to careless messengers, | had never reached their destination." ' "And when I reached England," he conr eluded, " I heard that Fernando Alcotte was I r your accepted lover. What could I do but ' shrink from beholding you, and resolve that; ' my inopportune presence should never mar i '* your prospects ?" " Oh, Geoffrev!" 7 "Ah, dearest*vou have never suffered the - ? ?+ T T )MMERCIAL. MAY 31, 1877. JROPE^AND^^^ \ V -VtA/ PV/ \ v c "V e* Thoughts for Saturday Night. Youth holds no society with grief. Don't put too fine a point to your wit, for fear it should get blunted. It is inconceivable how much wit is J required to avoid being ridiculous. I never wonder to see men wicked, but I wonder to see them not ashamed.? Swift. The saddest failures in life come from the not putting forth of the power to suoceed. Wickedness resides in the very hesita-; tion about an act, even though it be not perpetrated. The general of a large army may be defeated, but you cannot beat the deter- ; mined mind of a peasant. 1 111 1 x 1. HeeK not proua weann; dud oucn hh thou mayest get justly, use soberly, distribute cheerfully and love contentedly. The first petition that we are to make to Almighty God is for a good conscience, the second for health of mind, and then , of body. Is not prayer a study of truth, a sally of the soul into the unfound infinite ? No man ever prayed heartily without j learning something. It is an observation no less just than common, that there is no stronger test of a man's real character than power and authority, exciting as they do every passion and discovering every latent i vice. It is the great privilege of poverty to be happy unenvied, to be healthy without physic, secured without a guard, and to obtain from the bounty of nature what the great and wealthy are compelled to procure by the help of art. Singular Escapes from Deatb. A very' exciting incident occurred not j long since at the village of Soudan, in | France. In consequence of the weathercock at the top of the church steeple getting rusty, and no longer turning as it should do, it was determined to take j it down. A man clambered up the , steeple, but just before he could reach the weathercock he lost his balance and : slid down for seventy feet, then rebounded on to the roof of the church, and rolling thence was precipitated to the ! ground. He was not much hurt, but1 being much shaken by his fall, he was repluced by a man called Chevalier. In about half an hour Chevalier made the most gallant efforts to haul himself up by means of a rope; but at last his j ^ ^ ? 1 ^a11 Ko/il'trovil nanus HIippt?Uj nuu lie ICll u?v rvvr axu. t His foot fortunately caught iu the lope, and there he remained 120 feet from the ground, with his head down/*beatingthe air with his arms, struggling to recover himself, and swayed backward and forward by a high wind. Pierre Pean now | stepped forth and volunteered to mount to the rescue of the unfortunate Cheva- | lier, but, after doing his best for three-, quarters of an hour, Pierre had to de-' scend. His place was taken by Moreau, who, climbing higher up than Chevalier, slipped a rope round his! body, and cutting that which held his foot, freed him from the fearful position in which he had remained for three ; hours. A Man's Fight with a Panther. Savage animals are not yet extinct in Vermont^ as Thomas PeggiDgton of East Richford found to his cost. He was on his way to his sugar orchard, in company with his dog, when he suddenly came face to face with a huge panther. The dog was torn to pieces in a twinkling, and the beast then turned his attention to Mr. Peggington, who, though unarmed, kept his presence of mind, and avoided the creature's first spring by falling on his face. The second time he was caught by the shoulder, and a desperate struggle followed, both rolling over and over on the ground and finally falling over a precipice twenty feet hign, which ended the combat. Mr. Peggington lay unconscious for several hours until found by his friends, and he was severely injured. The panther has not been seen since the frny, but it is thought he was badly hurt by the fall. Niagara Falls. The amount of water passing over Niagara Falls has been estimated at 100,000,000 tons per hour, and its perpendicular descent may be taken at 150 feet, * ^?- ? il Witnout considering me rnpiua, mucu represent a further fall of 150 feet. The force represented by the principal fall alone amounts to 16,800,000 horse power, an amount which if it had to be produced by steam would necessitate an expenditure of not less than 266,000,000 tons, of coal per annum, taking the consumption of coal at four pounds per horse power per hour. In other words all the coal raised throughout the world would hardly Huffice to produce the amount of pow> er that annually runs to waste at this wonderful fall, RIBT ? $2.00 per SIi m\ --^7 J*, Two Dog Stories. The Columbus (Wis.) Republican tells one as follows: " A four-year-old child of Deacon D. J. Evans, of Elba, fell into an open cistern a few days ago, and an elder brother leaped in after liim; i but the latter found it impossible to reach the floor above while supporting the child. A large Newfoundland dog, j comprehending the situation at a glance, ran off to a neighboring field, bringing back with him a number of men, attracted by the strange actions of the dog. A ladder was put down in the cistern, and the young man and his charge, halfdrowned, were rescued." The other is related by the Providence Press thus : "A boy was driving one of Kennedy <k Gough's teams down Manton avenue, when the horse began to run, the reins fell out of the boy's hands, and he was thus at the mercy of the beast. A large Newfoundland dog belonging to the firm was in the wagon, and, taking in the situation, sprang for the horse and fastened his teeth in the animal's tail. One of his teeth gave way and the knowing canine saw that he could not stop the horse in that way. By this time the frantic steed was running down 'Broadway. The dog leaped out of the wagon, J seized the horse bv the nose and suc;eeded in bringing him to a halt, no particular damage having been done. The owners of the sagacious dog say that they would not take 8500 for him." Convicts Who Suffer Most. The chaplain of Millbrook, London's largest convict prison, says that the men " 1 -- i.'.i.t. wiiose condition is tne most piuuuie when they leave jail are mercantile clerks, post-office employees, etc. In competition with the crowds of reputable men eager for every employment, no matter how small the remuneration, they have little chance of obtaining employment of the kind to which they were accustomed, and being unused to manual labor they find themselves in a position which renders a return to crime aif almost overwhelming temptation. And yet they are the most hopeful and repentant class, and .only dire necessity compels them in most'cases to repeat their offenses. What is still more against them, he says, is the fact that they have little to expect from their friends. " The poor, it cannot be denied, are far more ready to assist a fallen relative than the more well-to-do members of society, and in the present instance I might cite a case in which an application I myself addressed on behalf of a discharged convict to his friends, persons of some position in society, was not deemed worthy of even a formal acknowledgment." A Mystery Solved. A limit two vears aaro a man by the name of John Olenlieimer, a German, was suddenly and mysteriously missing from his residence in a "Western town. He left a family, consisting of a wife and six children, the youngest child but a few weeks old and the oldest a girl scarcely thirteen years. Tired of waiting, they soon mourned for their protector as dead, and the mother set about the real problem of providing for the family. They had been left quite destitute. Recently, as this little family were seated at their frugal breakfast of porridge the postman left a letter addressed to the widow of John Olenheimer. It bore the stamp of the United States I treasurer and was sealed with wax. It contained an official notice from the Treasury department in Washington that a United States consul in Australia had j forwarded to the department a trunk filled with the effects of her late husband, | who died in that country. Along with this property was also $4,000 in gold. Letters of administration were taken out and the proper papers, signed and seal ed, were forwarded to Washington. Admiral Hobart Pasha. Admiral Hobart Pasha, of the Turkish navy, was a blockade runner during our civil war. He was a captain in the j British navy, and took advantage of a i leave of absence granted him by the English government to go into the blockade running business for Collie & Co. When this matter came to the knowledge of the lords of the admiralty j he was suspended from his rank in the British navy. Thereupon he entered the Turkish service, and, besides being invested with the rank of admiral, was ?~ .-...aim on imr?orifil firman. He IliOUC n poonu uj uu ? | next became conspicuous in checki g the rebellion in Crete, where his knowledge of the blockade running business i was of great service to him in preventing the Creeks from furnishing supl plies of arms and ammunition to the inj surgents. By a subsequent decree in i council of the lords of the admiralty ho j has been restored to his rank and cum| ber in the British navy, JNE ' 4 ' * Mul Single Copy 5 Cents. - HUSBANDS AND WJVES.. y Sharp Criticism of the Lord* of Creation? Wires' Sacrifices Without Compenoatln k AiruUtea. " They are just married," was the re mark of all the fellow passengers of a certain couple on a railway train the other day. And wherever that couple went on their journey the same observanog rarkAofod There are certain in dicatdons about the recently wedded which always betray the happy parties as enjoying their "honeymoon. Though from time immemorial the said moon has been regarded as transient, every woman who marries thinks that her case is an exception, and that the new happiness is to be continued indefinitely between the twain until death do them part. It is not pleasant to think that the woman who thus confides must, in too many cases, be disappointed. She must find that the suitor who professed that her companionship was the one thing necessary to his happiness will discover that there are many other thingB which her husband deems pleasant, and with which the wife has little, if anything, to do. As a rule, the less she is interested in his outdoor movements the better he is pleased. Courtship is one thing. Wedded life is another. Indeed, some women go so far as to say that nearly every boy or man is in a condition of chronic opposition to the girls or women in the family where he domiciles. It is charged i that the lads would not "go a courting" if it did not vex their sisters: and that * j they would not many if mothers were nnt in some cases entirelv averse to their ; marriage^ and in others only submissive I under protest. The marriage of a man ! is in some sort a triumph over his own female kindred. These kindred submit, ; as they say submission is a woman's lot. I And they make the best of it, and sweeten I the inevitable with womanly gentleness. But the husband?what of nim ? The new husband is elate with the consciousness of having won the girl of his I choice. He has taken a wife, all object tions to the contrary notwithstanding. I He takes her on his arm with all this I pride of a captor and a conqueror. Nobody disputes his victory. Mother and sisters become his wife's allies and indorse the proceeding with all their hearts, lie is monarch of all he surveys. There are no more contentions, for \ everybody has indorsed the arrangement, as if everybody had heartily approved and promoted it from the first. He might rest on his laurels?but laurels will not always keep green, and the dry leaves metaphorically choke liim. He | looks for new conquests, and selects his ?t? ??4>a/M\niaf Tf is nnt that he I WUr 1U1 OU Ulll^viwn ?.? -? ? ? does not love lier. He loved his mother. It is not that he wonld not do any and everything for her that does not inter| fere with his own whims and caprioes. i He did all that for his sisters. But he rebelled under their control; and hav! ing, boy like, annoyed them, man like, he annoys his wife. Evenings at home become wearisome, and evenings abroad, if his wife must be with him, are hardly less so. As he declined to be tied to his mother's " apron strings," he is fretted by his marriage tie. He has pressing | business which keeps him from the tea ! table, and which encroaches on his evenj ing hours. His wife's looks of remon! strance are considered "fus?v," and her J claims upon him, put in words, are met by protest And so the honeymoon frequently passes its last quarter, with, unfortunately, no promise of a new moon of the eame happy description in the i matrimonial calendar, j Then other affairs come in to engross the groom's attention?boat clubs, billiards, base ball, horses, " the lodge," eupper'with some ol' the "old fellows," "politics," hotels, saloons, and all the I rest. And he just drops in at the thea "* ? 11 - *_ _ ter, you know, quite aeciaeniaiiy, Decause Smith told him of a very particular attraction. If he had only thought of it at dinner time, he would have asked Sarah to get ready. And so on. Mind these are things that the women find out, though they may be very cautious in speaking about them. These ore the general heads under the fears they have j that their husbands like to escape the company which, as suitors, they prized aknvA *?verv other. The men must an swer to their own consciences how far the suspicions are well founded, and in many cases husbands, even of some 'years' standing, would perhaps do well to live their " attentive " days over again, and spark their wives afresh. The change from the wan and weary or the slightly martyr aspect which many wives wear would be a thing as well worth seeing as any advertised "attraction," and the voice of a cheerful wife as well worth hearing as any drama, opera or lecture.?Philadelphia Ledger. A Heroine In Real Life. A young lady acted the part of a hero: me on Kearney street, San, Francisco, one evening, and what she did was all j the more beautiful and brave because it I was characterized by great presence of mind as well as extraordinary courage. The street was crowded with vehicles, and a woman and child stood waitirg at ono of the crossings for an opportunity to walk over. Suddenly the child made a dart across the street and fell in front i nf a nAfisinff waaron. The young lady saw the dangerous position of the little one, and acting on that impnlse that is j of more service at times than the reason ing power, bounded to the rescue. The wagon wheel was on the point of grazing j the child's head. To have stopped to j lift the little one would have been to lose | the moment there was left to save its j life. So she unhesitatingly put her foot in front of the wheel, and with her hands held on to the spokes until the wagon was stopped. The child was ' picked up unhurt, but its savior had her foot crushed, and from pain and excitement combined fainted away when her deed of bravery was done. She was carried to a house m the neighborhood, j and a physician attended to her inj uries. ; "When she recovered consciousness she was told by her brother that she had doDe ' that which might make her lame for life. Her answer was: " Don't scold. If I i had hesitated a moment the child would liave been crushed to death. The .wheel would have passed over its head, and it , is only my foot that is hurt." Lizzie x i McPherson is the heroine's name, and she is said to be as good looking as she is brave.