The Horry herald. (Conway, S.C.) 1886-1923, August 11, 1887, Image 1
* P ;
VOLIME II.
Sister Tmllimiter's Heart.
(Krom lhi> (,Vntur> .Mit^axiiKV)
Thero was an unusual cxcitoinent
in Sweet wator. The now preacher, a
voting man of lino parts, accompanied
by his wife, had arrived a few
days before, delivered a most effective
sermon, and had boon called
t^>on with the promptness common to
t country communities where isolation
1 1 I 1 ll r
ronuers ioeai curiosuy uunearame iii
tor twenty-four hours. Tho lady of
the parsonage, whoso husband was
l>ut lately a theological student and
now oniraood for tho first time upon
regular pastorial labors, came from
the eity dressed in a manner that was
bound to win her the admiration or
the hatred of half the village. Already
that orand, interchnnircablo
* I
jury common to all communities was
sitting upon her ease. The term is
u;Vd in a figurative sense, for the inquest
was conducted from yard to
yard, window to window, and even
across the one street alon<* which
Sweetwater was congregated. Wherever
two or three were gathered together
and two of the three happened
to l>e of the cradle-roekingr order
of society, Parson Pilev's wife was
tho theme.
The climax was reached in tho case
when Parson Pilev's wife sent out
modest little notes inviting about
twenty matrons to take tea with her
the next <lav. Then the jury lot the
main question pass while it resolved
itself into eommittes of ono, each of
which began with almost frantic anxiety
to look into the question of
dross. Adaptation became the order
of the day, for no time remained for
new garments, even if Sweetwater
could Irnve furnished them. Twenty
ladies drew out from their hiding
places twenty bonnets of varied
shapes, ages and designs; twenty la<lies
shook to the breeze the eamphored
folds of twenty bombazines, alpacas,
and venerable s'lks; and twenty
pairs of hands went to work with
needles, thread, hot irons, stain-oradieators,
and all the household help
that could be mustered, to turn the
water of ancient respectability into
the wine of modern style as outlined
in stray magazines and described by
the occasional town visitor.
So it was, then that Sweetwater, as
very properly represented by its
leading ladies, assembled in I'arson
Uiley's modest little parlor and gazed
upon itself in all its glory, a somewhat
satisfied air settled oyer it.
Poor faded little Mrs. brown in her
dingy alpaca, which everybody know
she bought nine yeats before with
monov awarded her at thoroiuitv fair
for preserves ami pickles, and lia?l
turned and re-turned until it was
tMjiial'v worn all over, smiled placidly
noon Mrs. Bailey's watered silk
that she sho wore when she was a
bride, and upon the boinlmzino jrown
that Mrs. Huckner inherited front her
mother, and felt thoroughly comfortable.
And Mrs. Bucknor's little
straw bonnet, that had been in fashion
twice in the fifteen years of service,
rested easy upon her own artificial
knot of hair when she beheld
Mrs. Culpepper's Leghorn Hare-front
head-gear, and noted the corkscrew
iron-gray curls pinned around the
severe brow of Colonel Ledbetter's
wife just as they had been on state
occasions for twenty years.
This feeling of comfort was greatly
strengthened by the fact that 1'arson
Riley's wife woro a plain dark closefitting
frown of somo flexible material
without ornamentation, and that
her hair was brushed back without
y attempt at tlio fashionable ar
vnngoments they tearou would crush
them. Then the little ludy moved
about among them with her swootest
smiles, and the nicest tea, and a little
notice for each of her quests. She
had observed what an "olevant young
woman" was Mrs. Jhicknor's Samanthy,
just back from Wosleyan ('ol.
logo in Macon; and Mrs. Brown's
son Tom was "handsome enough to
be governor." As for Mrs. Culpepper's
baby, why, it was "just too
lovely for anything," Sho captured
a very large-hearted woman entiroly
* when sho whispered to Mrs. Bailey
that her husband was the finest looking
man she had seen in Sweetwater,
-?"excepting my Phil,* you know,"
she added. And this loyalty onlv
sank tho compliment deeper. Then
she hurried oiT for a pencil, and begged
Mrs. Colonel Ledbctter to give
her recipe for making the scuppernong
wine she had heard so much
praised, and she laid her book in the
dear old lady's lap and wrote it as
dictated, hi an hour 1 arson alley s
wife was l>y unanimous eonsont established
at the head of Sweetwater,
anil could afford to tako the company
in to see her lace curtains, baby
and baby dresses, and all the little
bric-a brae that had been showered
upon her as a brido, without awakening
a single jealous feeling.
Ibit a storm was brewing, and its
first mutterings were hoard when
Mrs. Culpepper thoughtlessly mentioned
"Sister I'odhunter."
"Sister Todhunter?" said Parson
ltiiey's wife, looking from one to the
other, a puzzled expression shadowing
her pretty faco; "have 1 met Sister
Todhunter? Dear me, can I have
made a mistake after all?" She had
k t
f
iii
44 BE TKUI
tried so hard to please everybody,
and hero was trouble at the first
move.
"No, mv dear," said Mrs. Culpopper
promptly; "it was 1 who made
the mistake." lint poor Mrs. Riley
noted the ominous look upon the
faces of several and the glances they
exchanged.
UI am sure," she said earnestly. "I
would Imvo l?oon glad to liavo had
Sister Todhunter if I had known in
time. Does she live in the village?"
"No, dear," said Mrs. Colonel
I .edbetter; "sho is a disagreeable old
thing who lives out on her farm about
a mile from hero. You haven't lost
anything l>y not knowing her." Mrs.
I,edbetter was a power in the land,
and her iron-gray curls shook in a
dangerous and threatening manner
as she declared herself. "She is
sometimes pleasant, to be sure, but
if it wasn't for her husband, poor
man, who married her out of pity, although
she was only a 'cracker' and
he a man of education and standing,
O '
she wouldn't be noticed."
"1 think," said poor faded little
Mrs. Brown meekly, "that Sister
Todhunter has a good heart, and I'm
r"> 7
sure she always treated me kindly."
"And who wouldn't?" interposed
Mrs. Culpepper laughing. "You
see some good in everybody, Sallie,
and everybody sees some in you.
But as for Sister Todhunter, she is
better at long range."
Presently there was a movement
among the ladies, and soon Parson
Kiley's wife, the recipient, of twenty
i : *. i ? 1 i i i
l\ISVM-7* it I M 1 il> 11 I I I I \ Willlll Mill) ? IM 1.1 KC>,
was loft alone with her empty cups
and the memory of Sister Todhunter.
II.
When Parson Piley heard the description
of his wife's tea-party from
her lips, told with many a smile and
an occasional sigh, his lirst resolution
was to call upon t'olomd TodImntcr
and his wife. So it was that
early next morning he saddled his
patient mare and amldcd out to the
Todhunter farm.
As Parson Piley approached the
iittle cottage, he saw siltin.r on the
steps a man with his chin in his
hands. The first thing that impressed
him was the air of extreme dejection
about tin; individual, an air that
had become more marked after he
had dismounted and advanced toward
the house. Pbusing himself from
his reveries, the individual rose slowly
and fixed a pair of tired, wateryblue
eyes upon the parson. The
clothes ho wore were broadcloth, but
they woro faded now, and stained
down the front with tobacco juice;
and they shone with a polish evidently
acquired, like good manners,
throned! Ion if wear.
O #
"This is Colonel Todhuntcr, I believe,"
said the visitor, holding out
his hand. "1 am the Rev. Mr. Riley."
The gentleman in the polished suit,
held the proffered hand as he replied,
in a singularly low and sweet voico:
"You're the now parson, I reckon.
You will have to speak louder; I am
a little deef."
"Yes," said the parson, elevating
his voico. "How is your family?"
"What did you say?" inquired the
low, musical voice, while the blue
eyes brightened a little.
"How is vour family?"
"Oh, very well, I believe. Come
ill and sot down." Ho led the way
slowly, with a slight limp, toward
the littlo porch. As thoy ascended
tho stops 1'arson Riley caught sight
of the figure of an enormous woman
in a calico dross and a white apron,
! that loomed up in the doorway. She
carried in her hand a broom; and a
I hi oftd, square, almost fierce face with
| small black eves was turned upon
i him.
"Mainly," said the colonel gently,
I "this hunter is the new parson."
! "The now parson" stepped forward
quickly and extended his hand.
"My dear madam, I am glad to
meet you," he said, a smile kindling
on his handsome face. She looked
at him suspiciously, gave him her
left hand, and said:
"I lowdie'"
"I hope you are well, madam?"
"Toler'ble," she replied. And
then she turned her back and moved
off with an elephantine amble.
"So this is Sistsr Todhuntor,"
thought Parson Riley. "Well, I
shall have trouble here."
The men sat down, and tlio conversation
boim n. ('olonel Tmlluni.
n '
ter proved to bo courtly, almost womanly,
in his manners, Imt his few
opinions were ventured with a dillidenco
most painful, and tin? pirson
was glad when the time came to say
good-day. lie was ahout to mount
his mare again when the colonel,
who had followed him out, touched
his arm.
"I want to spoak to you on a private
matter," he said softly. "Suppose
wo waik a little." So arm and
arm they moved off. "I want to
speak about Mrs. Todhuntor," said
the gentle voico again. "To tell
you the truth, Parson I am leading
a life hero that is almost unbearable,
and 1 think you can help inc.
".Mrs. Todhuntor is a violent woman,
Parson,? 1 use the term ad*
vicedly; she is a violent woman, and
unless I can bring about a marked
change in her character, I do not
? -
3 TO TotTE -WO:R:D
CONWAY, ;
1 know what I shall do. Shu uses langua.ro
towar.l ino that is altogether
j unchristian-like and unbecoming.
I And worse; when she gets one of
hor spells upon her, she assaults me
with anything nearest at hand* ( hdy
this morning 1 received several Mows
i from her broom that have nearly
lamed me. Parson,"?-they had
reached the friendly shelter of the ;
barn by this time, and the colonel
1 straightened up a little, while his
I eyes actually flittered, "I am tired'
| of this dog's life, and I want your as- |
I " ' l * y *
| sistanee. I think if Mrs. Todlmnter
i is formally reported to tIn* church,
ami humiliated, it will brine about a
| change." Parson Kiloy's face show-!
j ed his surprise, and the colonel ad|
(led at once, ul have had this in mind
ia lotijr time, and once 1 broueht the
1 t \
, matter to the mind of Parson I honip- j
! son, who preceded vou, a worthy
man, hut timid. lie would not move
in the matter. Now, will yonV" Par-i
son Kilev was vouno and comhalivc.
"1 will," he said promptly.
"What?" The deaf man placed
; his hand to his ear.
441 will," shouted the parson. Sis- j
| tor Todlmnter shall he disciplined."
The colonel looked pleased.
ii 1
4,1 was a church-member myself
once," he said softly, "but this eternal
ouarrol drove we out. I could ,
; not hreak bread feelino as I do to.
j ward Mrs. Todlmnter." llis chin J
trembled. lie filled his cheeks with
, wind and blew it out ui der the pres
sure of his emotion. 4>Vou cannot
inne-ine to what an evtent 111i- ihmm'.
Icution has ^joiio. Why, sir tlu>ro
1 have been times when I conshleroil '
! my life in danger. I am not a di.->si- i
I jiated man," he continued, resting!
his blue-veined hand upon the par- )
j son's shoulder and turnino the blue
eyes earnestly ujion him, "but ? f!
! course I take a j dep now and then,
?you understand; habits of an oldtime
(ieoroia o'entlemau and some.
h h
i times I have taken too much. I admit
that Mrs. Todhunter has had
some provocation in that direction,
but not enouo-h, I'arson, to justify
: her m reoardino" me as a don-.' 11is
n n o
breast heaved convulsively.
"A woman," said the voun?j man
! firm 1 y, touched by the pathos and j
emotion of his dionitied companion,
"has no rioht to strike her husband j
except, in the defense < f her life.''
"I ley ?" ('olonel 'Todhunter cupped
his left ear deftly with the trans- |
parent hand.
"I say a woman has no i*i<rht to
| strike husband
"Why, bless your soul, I'arson,
j that's a small matter, a very small
| matter indeed!" A sad smile Milted
across the lips of the speaker. "A
very small matter.'' lie fixed his
eyes upon his companion with a sink i
V I , I t
iIt'll resolution. "\\ by, do von know,
Mrs. Todhunter ruinn near smothorino
mo, only last week?"
f? 7 Jt
"Smothering?
"I ley?"
"('ame near smothering you?"
"Yes, sir. 'I'o toll th3 truth, I'arson,
I was a little mixed, had taken
a little too much, you understand.
Had linen camping out a week down i
at liloomey's mill with Colonel Led- i
bettor and others, fishing, and drank
a little too much. I nfortunalely I
came home a little under the infhi- I
enco of stimulants, and found .Mis.
Todhunter on lire about the cotton ,
being in the grass. As I was tiro- I
i paring to lio down, being also ill,
Sirs. Todliunler, with her superior
strength and weight, forced ine hoD
~ '
tween the mattresses and sat down
on in(!. And there, she sat, 1 'arson,
I three hundred pounds, and it a duly
j day, and knitted all tho afternoon.
'I'll sweat that wliisuy out er you,'
she says; and she did. The perspiration
that exuded from my pores
soaked through the mattress and
dripped on the floor. I do not know
how I lived through it." lie drew
' (jut his handkerchief and wiped his
forehead, to which tho memory of
his sufferings had actually brought
the moisture. "W hen will you move
in the matter?" he asked more cheerfully.
"At once."
"I ley?"
"At once. I'll have her up next
Sunday?"
Parson Hiloy paused. Too vast
presence of Sister Todhunter had
passed around the corner of the barn.
There was a painful silence of about
two seconds, and then her voice
arose.
"So," she said loudly, with her eye
on the colonel, who started as though
shot, "so! This is your game, is it?
telliu' lies on your wife to every
stanger that comes along. I'll teach
you bettor manners, if I liavo to break
every bone in yer soft, cowardly
body." Sho made a rush at her offending
lord, wnieh he ea ,:.ly and
, promptly avoided by stepping brisk !
ly away, leaving his late companion
, to hold the field as best he might
"Madam," said 1'arson Wiley, raising
his hand as if about to ask a ben.
ediction, it was his most impressive
attitude,?"I beseech you to remember
that this gentleman is your husband
and that you are a member of
my church. "
"What have you got to do witn
hit, you little chick'n-eatin1 thing
, you? She had turned upon him
^.nsrxD -iroTJ'xz WCE
S. ('., THURSDAY, At
with war in her oyo anil war in hor
whole makeup ^onerally. UA |>n tt
v sort or parson von air, ain't vor,
hanoin'roun' decent womon's houses
list'nin' torlios an' slanders. ()h, I
know what ho wants; he wants tor
<^it me up 'fore Mould Zion Church.
1 lo tried hit on olo Thompson, hut
he daresn't move or po?r. I tele him,,
an' I tell you, if they have mo up
Ion* .Moun7 /ion, hit'll ho or had day
fur Moun' /inn." Sin* shook horj
clinched f'ftt at him.
Parson Riley was half Irish, a little
\\ elsh. and the rest American.
Resides, he was yoiai^ and inexperienced.
uYour ease will he up next.Sunday
inorniner. You can come or not,
as you please." lie said this with a
somewhat unelerieal hut very natural
emphasis, and turning on his heels,
left the spot The last words ho
hoard were, 441 ain't 'feared o' you j
uer all the Moun' /ions in the world." ;
As Parson Riley mounted his j
mare, I 'olonel Todhunter crawled
through the hed?re a few yards off,
n t D * # 7
looked eautiouslx around, secured his
pipe from the porch, and went hack
silently the way he came. A smile
forced itself upon the lips of tin* |
younjr preacher, and a little farther
down the road ho laughed outriirht.
^
ICjiK's l-'roni 10 very State.
*>|<]ir?^s hejrin to come from the |
south in .lauuary," said a I )ey street
dealer, 44and they run up just like
shad and strawherries. A few eoino
from Texas. There is hie1 money in
the business there if it is developed.
Rut it isn't worked up yet. North
Carolina starts in first. In ahout
four weeks afterward wo out some
from Washington, which come from
tlm Shenandoah Valley. Then come j
the oastorn shorn ejrirs."
"Which 00x1?"
"Pennsylvania, and then canto |
Ohio, West Virginia and Kentucky.
< )hio usually droits in a month after
North ( 'arolina, hut tliis year she was
even with her.,,
"Which are next in the procession
V"
"The far west and southwest, by
way of Kansas and St. Louis. Then !
Iowa and Illinois. After them came!
northern Indianna, Minnesota, Dako-I
ta, northern Iowa and Michigan. We
oet some not many front l)akota.:
"I low about New York?"
"This state has so ntrrty laroe
towns that most of her coos arc con- j
stinted in the interior markets. After
thev oel throuoh jticklino, however,
New York dealers send us j
some fresh e^os in the summer. Can
nda comes next to the far west. Por- j
eiou ejrjrs have been barred out this
season because prices have boon bet-1
ter in Knolami. They took very 1
well where they could be sold fori
enonoh loss to make it an object fori
people to use them."
"Whv are southern eoirs so much
smaller?"
"That, is because they adhere so |
inuoli to the game fowl down there.
The difference is not only in size, hut ,
in the quality of tliu meat. Tho
Cochins, IMytnoutli Hocks or any I
northern breeds afford altogether
morn nutriment in their en-os than
r> r~>
tin* southern fowl. The host way to
ship is in free cases, with patent dividing
pasteboard, unless the shipper
is a very skillful packer, when
the best way is to send them in barrels
parked in cut straw."
"Is much pickling done?"
"There are firms in New York
State that pickle from 100 to 1,000
barrels, SI() to a barrel. Iowa has
single picklors that put away from
500 to 5,000 barrels, and so has Minnesota.
Chicago has refrigerators
that can hold 50,000 cases. In this
city the refrigerators are only used in
lenses of emergency. Hut talk about
r) J
pickling ?i?gs> < ?<-riii;t!iv takes the
lend. There aro some vats in this
j country that hold 25,000 hut
I 0110 (iorman pick lor has a vat that
' holds 500 hrrrols, or 120,000 eggs.
lie pickles yearly from 75,000 to
J 100,000 barrels of eggs, <>r from 08,*
000,000 to 81,000,000 eggs." A>/>*
York <S'////.
I )eeornt ions of the table.
Hut many aro tho tables at which
the formal "grace" is tho only suggestion
of things spritual; at such tables
tho "grace," far from elevating
D ' O
the coremotip of eating, seems rather
itself to suffer desecration.
The mistress of the table is not
ready for her place ns director of tho
feast, if she is less certain of the tone
of temper, of the flavor of the mood,
of tho aroma of tho conversation
which will bo served at her board
than she is of tho quality of tho
moat, ami the eharactor of the broad
which will bo served there. The appetite
for food, as food, is gross; if
that appetite alonois stated at a taldo
is but a manager. The eye, the
olfactory nerve, the (jar, not the pub,
ate, are susceptible to poetic ?><gg^tions.
Such is the subtle connection
between smell and taste yhat appetite
for food is aroused' by savoryodors;
but doliglitful/odor bisconeeted
from food is a.fliorerefining inlluence.
r
/
1
:rc: ^.asrid -stottik cot
hi 1st ||, is,st.
Some llnllonii Sloi'ics.
Thero aro no two names hotter j
known in the annuls of American 1
aeronautic.", savs tin* Philadelphia
'/'inns. than those of Kino and Wise.
Pfiil Samuel \ hiiur is nnvv in Ins
r> ^
sixtieth year. Since ISol has been a
practical aeronaut, making his lirst
ascension in tin* siinnnar of that year
from the old zoological pardon in
l''airmount I'ark. Sinee then ho has
maile 2SIJ aerial voyajje^ and a oreat
many lessor asconsions. His wife,
who is a (juiet, modest little woman,
has made a number of ascensions j
with him, and regards ballooning a
much safer mode of traveling than
carriage-riding. She is afraid of j
horses, but doesn't mind taking a
jaunt through the air a mile or so,
above the earth. In one of her trips
she once had a narrow escape. It !
was two years aca at Indianapolis.
\fter a remarkably pleasant ascension
the balloon in descending suddetdy
swayed when near the earth]
and eaundit i:i a dead tree. The I
sharp branch ripped the balloon onen, j
causing it to collapse, and landing
the basket in which she and her Ims- !
band sat in a fork of a tree, sixty
feet from the earth. As ipiiek as I
thought I'rof. Kino- braced the basket j
with a rope until he had cut the bal- I
loon away, then, dropping another
rope to some farm hands, he loosen- ]
ed the basket and was lowered over j
a limb to the earth. Neither ho nor j
I.is wife received a scratch.
1 ?fO only tune I?o was ever hurt
was in an ascension from Au<nisia,
( a. When no descended tiio Walloon
eauolit on a dead iiino ami was!
torn. lie attempted to descend I?y j
the draw rope, when the balloon colapsed
and came down with a crash,
badly bruisini/, but not otherwise!
liurtinw him. Some of his vovawes,
however, have been exceedinwly per-i
i r> J I
lions.
( )n t )etober 11,1 878, 1 ie went up |
from Scranton, wot cauwlit in a wind- !
storm, and came down at Oak Station,
Montgomery county, I 10 miles I
from the starting point. The whole
trip consuming hut two hours. ( >n j
Oetober lo, 1881, he made his memorable
ascension from ('hicnifo, with!
n 7
I lashaocn, of the Siwnal Service I'u- !
^ 7 rt
reau. lie was up nineteen hours and
descended in the Wisconsin Wilderness,
where he and his companion j
lost their way and suffered terribly i
before they a wain came in contact
wit h civilization.
< hie iiiwht lie was suspended between
sky and earth for thirteen
i 11..? \r..: i i ' i..
II* Mil 7* IM Ul IIIU .Villi I 117 ?1IM1 V < I Mill 111
wilderness. 11 is experience that niirht
was tlinllinir and remarkable. 'I'lio
ascension was made at I I'. M. at
I'lymoutli, X. II., Iiis companion lining
Lu'.her K. llolden, of the Boston
./ottrmd. !'or six hours they huntf
over a mile above the wilderness, the
halloon not losintr a foot of eas or
the car an ounce of hallst. When
they came down next moriiinir they
landed at the head of a now railroad
which was beino constructed 200
miles below (Quebec, near the (lulf
of St. Lawrence, over which thev had
spent a portion of the niirht. The
road was 200 milos away from any
other aoad or civilization. They
rode, to (Quebec on a buck-hoard,
driven by a Kreuch-Canadian. Mr.
lloidcu always attributed their lucky
descent to an interposition of divine
providence.
In an ascension lie made in Autr
ust, 1875, from Burlington, Iowa, he
was caught in a thunder-storm, and
camo near being1 struck by lightning.
Tim expansion of the air acted on the
balloon and drove the gas from the
' nock into his bead and through the !
: open valve with terrilic velocity, lie
{ had a thrilling descent through I ho j
i clouds, and on reaching the earth
wont crashing through trees, landing
twelve miles from where he ascended,
having been driven back by the
storm. The whole trip consumed
three-quarters of an hour.
On the 1th of .Inly the same year I
! he took a party of seven, including
two bridal couples, over Lake Krie
from Cleveland. The balloon sailed
i over tho lake to BulTaM, where it
struck a back current and returned,
passing Cleveland, gradually approaching
tins ('anada shore, which it
struck at Point au Pole. It then
crossed a strip of Canada and thirtylive
miles of Lake St. Clair, landing
I eleven miles from Port Huron at
midnitfht, having made 180 miles in
I . ^
I thirteen hours.
On another Pourth of July he took
live newspaper men from Buffalo to
Quinton, X. .1. lie crossed the Alleghenies
and followed the Susquell.'IIUI
!i>i fill" iw I luPVIl ito (tnnn
a sharp turn, and sailed duo cast
across Delaware into Now Jersey, tho
whole trip taking thirteen hours.
I'rof. Charles Wise is tho son of
tho late Prof. John Wise, Sr., who
was los^'- hilo tot. aerial voyI
aire, ilo made his IJic. ascension
thirty-seven years agt\,,l"' ;p ?>nt
thirteen years of ago, at Sfmnnandale
I Springs, \Vr. Va. 11(5 wont up two
! and one-half miles and staid up three
hours, landing sixty-five miles from
the starting point, to which place he
returned in an ox-cart. Four years
later ho made an ascension from
Newburyport, Mass., on the occasion
? .Vet Report. MU
?
7MTK"Y-."
of a civil celebration. Tho wind was J
blowing toward tho ocean, and tho i
committee offered to pay the price of
the ascension rather than take any j
risks, but after consulting with his I
father ho decided to make the ascon- (
sion. After tfoiujr uj> eighteen thousand
feet very rapidly and descending
still more rapidly he struck
Plum Island bar. As there were no
inhabitants and noplace to grapple,'
the only alternative was to jump out i
of the car. Th's ho did, laiulinif
safely in the saml.
The buloon, 1 ijjritt??( 1 of its load, J
sliol into tho air and lilow out to sea. i
Tlio noxt morning it was picked up J
I?y ii winder (MX) miles away and
Wrought into Provincotown. The
whole ascent and descent occupied
one half hour. The sailors on tho
whaler, when they saw the halloon
(loathe in the water, thought it was
r* " o
an immense blubber and harpooned
it. It immediately collapsed and
was taken on board, the Nowburyport
papers of tho previous day being
found in the car. The Professor
has been ever since actively engaged
J n n
as an aeronaut, and at various times
has taken up every member of his
family, having in thirty-live years
made over three hundred ascensions.
His son, John, Jr., made his first ascension
at the age of eight years
with is grandfather.
One itf the most notable ascensions
that has ever been made was
made by him, under the direction of
his hither, at \\ aynesburg, (trocn
county, when he was only fourteen
years old. After working half a day
at inflating the balloon the supply of
gas gave out when the balloon was
only half full. 'I'lio balloon refused
t.. " i 11 . i i I i .
11 > IIDUI'IIII Willi nil' l)OV, WIRMI MIS
father decided to do :i 111 in?_C that lias
never hoforo or since boon attempted.
No cut tho lower half of tho balloon
olT. Whilo ho was doino this soino
ollii'ioiis spectator out tho valvo-ropo
two foot beyond tho boy's reach, and
in tho midst of a rain-storm tho fourteen-year-old
aeronaut went sailing
into spaco and beyond tho clouds,
hatloss and coat loss and without a
valvo-cord.
Ilo was directed by his father not
to over two miles, but beinir unable
to roach tho valve-cord, he j^ot
cuuidit in a heavy snow-storm and
was driven forty miles in forty minutes.
Landinef whore thorn wore no
means of communication, lie was not
heard from in two days. The excitement
of the citizens was so intense
that they organized a commit- I
tee to search for and and t(ivo him a
reception when found. When lie
was found the citizens tilled his hat
...:ii 11 1-. f I
>v11ii mijiii/j . iiij wns nearly iro/.eu
to death during the voyage, ami 1
when ho doseondod ho was covered .
with icicles. Since thou ) 10 lias made
250 ascensions withouf accident.
Wan tod to See Sawyer.
Senator Sawyer, of Wisconsin,
prides himself on his strength of arm,
and while home last fall lie put on a
h 1 u(3 blouse and worked in one of his
sawmills. lie thinks he can handle a
saw log with as much grace and dispatch
as over he could. He tells a
pretty good story on himself. One
day while he was at work in this a
wealthy and enterprising young business
man came up to Oshkosh to sou
him. At the ollico ho was told that
Mr. Sawyer was in the mill. Thy
young ('hitfagoan, dressed in height
style, tiptoed his way into the mill
and finally found a jolly little old
fat man in a blue blouse down in a
saw pit filing a big circular saw.
I lis bald head was bare, his hands
were grimy with oil and saw filings
and his Santa Clans face wot with
prespiration. Going up to him ho
asked:
"Can you tell mo where I'll find
Mr. Sawyer?"
"Wight here," said the jolly fat man.
"I'm Sawyer."
"()h ?all excuse mo," faltered the
Chieagoan. "I didn't know you were
mu ll !i or mtlif.r iiluun I .luln'l
suppose you looked that is, I hardly
expected to find you so bald, Mr.
Sawyer," and the young follow, turning
wlnto and red with every word
he uttered, began to perspire and
wish he had studied up beforehand
the art of talking to a plain Yankeo
Yankee quarto millionaire who
could wear li blue blouse and could
tile saws baidhoadod.
"Do you know the difference in
j yourself and amnio?" asked Mrs.
I Crimsonboak of her husband, the
j other evening, when they wen? giving
i conundrums around the family hearthI
stone.
"No, I realy don't," roplied the
gonial husband, ofF his guard.
"Neither do I," was the wife,s
laughing reply, which Im.d a tendency
to mnko Mr. Orimsonbeak mad and
break up tlio conundrum business for
I months to o?mo.
"Doctor," said a Philedelpbia patient,
"I'm troubled with insomnia,
j and I want you to do something for
me.11
"Do you ho awake most of the
i night? asked th?? physician.
"No, I'm all right at nigi.?, hut I
can't get any sleep during the day/'
' I
ILLINS ACADEMY. \ 1
MiiIIius. S. I'. \ j
' \
NUMBER
fay <fOiil<l*s Philosophy.
(Now York Tim.'*.>
It is very distressing t?? bo rich.
Some folks may not boliovo this; but
Mr. .Jav Gould insists that it is so,
atul Mr. (iould is supposed to know a
thing or two about being rich.
Mr. Gould sat on a sofa in tho
Windsor Hotel and tried to make a
newspaper roportor con touted. If
Mr. (iould didn't succeed that was
merely because the reporter happened
to narrow-minded, no that Mr.
Gould's philosophy was weak-kneed.
"The poor man ought to bo the
happiest mail,'' wont on the millionaire.
''Wealth brings cares withn
out compensation. A man gets rich
and then he's a slave. Very mistaken
ideas exist on this subject."
With so much promised Mr. Gonld
proceeded to toll in a genial way of
the joys that onco he himself know
and now was too rich to know any
more. "Ah," ho said, "I often recur
to the days when I was a boy up in
I)elawaro county I was a prettv
happy lad. There wasn't much wear
and tear in life then. How good it
would feel iust to ito out and drive
tho cattle home front tlio pasturo
onco more! Ami how delicious it
would bo to stoop down hy tho old
now a<oiin to do tho morning's milking
and just squirt a stroam of hor
frosh, hot milk in between my lips as
I used to do. That was nectar.
That's what jravo an apotito for
break fast!"
Mr. (iould's ovos iflistonoil. liov1/
m %
hood memories were evidently much
to his taste.
"A boy on a farm oujdit to bo one
of the happiest beings alive," ho added.
"lie may leave to <o> out in
tho busier world, and he may make
more money elsewhere and in other
ways, but he'll never bo a jot happier
anywhere or anyhow not a jot; it
isn't, in human possibility to bo happier.
( )f course, thouoli, nobody is
over bontented. I remember how it
was with myself. < hie of my boy
friends was Sam l)immick, who lives
up at KiHuston-on-tho-1 ludson. Ilis
father, (V?l. Itimmick, was one of tho
well-to-do-men men np in 1 >olawaro
county in those times, and 1 remember
that I used to wish and wish and
wish shat soinethinjr would happen
tluit would enable me to get as rich
as ho was. lie seemed like a ('ro-sus
to mo. And I left the farm."
u( loing to church," lie explained,
"contributed this one bit of sadness.
\Vo used to starr from homo early
every Sunday morning," he said,
"and ride over to the little yellow
meetino house where the country
round worshiped. At It) o'clock the
proceedings began. They wore real
proceedings, too; I can see the tall
old oldor yet as he loomed up in the
Imlpit and wont to his sermon
ilovon o'clock came and the elder
was just getting unddrwap; 12
o'clock arrived and he was only becoming
warmed up, At 12.ol) we
adjourned. All over? (>h, no. We
were otdy on a half-hour's furlough.
The sermon stopped in the middle t<?
let us oat the lunches that we had to
bring along. After the lunch the
dominie plunged ahead unchecked
till well on toward eveninir. How
hard those hoard benches in the vollow
ineetiuir-house ufod to act!
if , i -
now very urea even soino ct the
most pious ones used to grow! Often
and I remember the elder would
come to a sudden halt, look down
despairingly on his devoted flock
and ejaculate: "Wako up! wake
up! Why, every soul of you is
asleep!" That would help for a little
while, perhaps, but I tell you, it was
pretty trying sometimes on even the
best of folks.
"About the only time, 1 think,
when I was real genuinely interested
at church in those times, under those
circumstances, was one Sunday.
When we weie all safely tucked in
for the eternal sermon there came a
| smash and a crash against one side
of the church, and the boards there
gave way and splinters went flying.
We wore listening to something
about the wrath to come, aiP most
of us for a time rather suspected that
! it had really arrived. The trouble
i was that our horses, left lo?u?ely
j hitched outside, had become weary.
J unit lY'riU ITIIMMIIIg . I [IIIJU'M JinjllllMl/
the elder's loii?T- windedrcss by
i
punching their wagon-poJe straight
through the side of tlio moetinghouso.
I really felt under a sort of
personal obligation to the old horses,
and I guess I wasn't alone in the
feeling, either. f'd give a good
deal, I assure you, to go through that
lively day again."'
Milk and churches! ISoth roomed
texts for jubilation. Mr. Gould
laughed and was gleeful. I le looked
as if ho spoko truth in evory syllable
as ho remarked: ''Those old days
and their experiences wore bettor
than cash a good deal better."
Then once moro this magnate,
the owner af a score of railroads, an
| assortment of Legislatures,^a Judge
or two and luxuries of that sort* produced
his conundrum: v-v
'After all what does any man, "
however rich ho may he, got in this
wprld except his board and his
I clothes and a place to live?"
"V