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THE DARLINGTON HERALD. VOL. I DARLINGTON, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 22, 1891. NO. 46. CHURCHES. THEN THE TEARS ARE NEAR TO FLOWING. Prebbytekian Church. —Rct. J. G. Law, Pastor; Preaching every Sabbath at Hi a. m. and 8 p. m. Sabbath School at 10 a. m., Prayer Meeting every Wednesday afterno on at 5 o’clock. Methodist Church. - Rev. J. A. Riee, Paitor; Preaching every Sunday at Hi a. m. and 8 p. m., Sabbath School at 5 p. m ., Prayer Meeting every Thursday at 8 p. m. Baptist Church. —Rev. G. B. Moore, Paster; Preaching every Sunday at Hi a. m. and 8:30 p. m., Prayer Meeting every Tuesday at 8 p. m. Episcopal Chapel.—Rev. W. A. Guerry, Rector; H. T. Thompson, Lay Reader. Preaching 3rd Sunday at 8:30 p. m., Lay Reading every Sunday morn ing at 11 o’clock, Sabbath School every Sunday afternoon at 5 o’clock. Macedonia Baptist Church.— Rev I. P. Breckington, Pastor; Preaching every Sunday at 11 a. m. and 8:30 p. m. Sabbath School at 3:30 p.m., Prayer Meeting every Tuesday evening at 8:30 o’clock. COUNTY OFFICERS. Sheriff.—W. P. Cole. Clerk of Court.—W. A. Parro.t Treasurer.—J. E. Bass. Auditor.—W. H. Lawrence. Probate Judge.—T. H. Spain. Coroner.—R. G. Parnell. School Commissioner.—W. H. Evans. County Commissionf.rs.—C. B. King, W. W. McKinzie, A. A. Gandy. Professional €ar&s. w. F. DARGAN, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Darlington, C. H., 8. C. Office over Blackwdl Brothers’ store. E. KEITH DARGAN, ATTORNEY AT •LAW, Darlington, S. C. N ETTLES & NETTLES, ATTORNEYS AT LAW Darlington, C. H., S. C. Will practice in all State and Federal Courts. Careful attention will b-‘ given to all business entrusted to us. BISHOP PARROTT, stenographer and t y p e-writer. LEGAL AND OTHER COPYING SOLICITED. Teatimony icported in short-hand, and type-written transcript of same fur nished at reasonable rates. Good spelling, correct punctuation and neat work guaranteed. Office with Nettles & Nettles. 0 P DARGAN, ATTORNEY AT : LAW AND TRIAL JUSTICE, Darlington, S. C. Practices in the United States Court and in the 4th and 5th circuits. Prompt attention to all business entrusted to me. Office, Ward’s Lane, next to the Dar lington Herald office. DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS. DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS. DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS. -ALL KINDS OF— MARBLE MONUMENTS. * MARBLE MONUMENTS, Tablets and Grave Stones furnished a Shoit Notice, and as Cheap as can be Purchased Else where. Designs and Prices Furnished on Application. Hr AH Work Delivered Free'on Line of C. & D. R. R. DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS, DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS, DARLINGTON, 8. C. ItreTfireT I Represent Twelve of the most Reliable Fire Insuiance Compa nies in the World—Among them, the Liverpool and Lon don and Globe, of England, the Largest Fire Campany in the World; and the /Etna, of Hart ford, the Largest of all Ameri can Fire Companies. fW’ Prompt AUention to Business and Satisfaction Guaranteed. F. E. NORMENT DARLINGTON, 8. 0. Office between Edwards, Norment & Ho,, and Joy & Bandera’, When the heart is overburdened— Full of sorrow, lost in woe: When the world is draped in cypress, And the dirge-winds through it blow— Then the tears are near to flowing. When the soul with joy is freighted, Full of love’s delightful glow; When the world Is clad in color. And the song-bells thrilling go— Then the teal’s are near to flowing. 8o it seems that bounding gladness Sister is to ead-eyel woe; For, when either, thrilling, throbbing, Through the being floodeth—lo. Then the tears are near to flowing. One is just outside the portals, Sprinkling life with grief-thawed (now; One is just inside the ros»-plot, Sprent with pleasure's pearly flow— And we say, the tears are flowing. —L. R. Hamberlin, in Times-Democrat. The Broai Street Turn. BY NYM CRINKLE. Burt Cliny HaUted, bro'cer, Broad street, turned over a new leaf on a New Year. I met him at Dr. Hall’s church in the morning. He bad a reformed look in the corner of his eyes. “I am through,” he said in a calm, business- like manner. Everything that Cline did was done in a business-like manner. I’ve known him to get oil a car and chase a newsboy for two blocks to get a cent change, because it was business and he would not be swindled, and I have known him to write a note to Ned Harrigan to get a free box and then spend $200 on flowers and supper before the night was over. With a Broad street peculiarity he In sisted that that was business too. I believe that anywhere Cline would be called a good fellow. He held etrict- ly to the business principle of skinning his fellow-man alive on Broad street and blowing in a pile when the boys were not on that financial warpath. One day Cline, as I said, turned a leaf. He did it methodically, calculatingiy and firmly. He was polishing his dome be fore the glass, and as he laid the brush down he said, “I must get married.” Very punctilious and discreet was Cline. He proposed to get mairied just as he proposed to buy Nashville and Tennessee. It was a good investment at that time. Then he set about it in the most ex traordinary Broad street manner. "I don’t want,” said he, “any giddy beau ties around. They’vo been around till I’m tired. I want a mature, sensible, sober, economical, tidy, level-beaded, modest, healthy, good-lempereJ, pru dent, aSectionate, sagacious, lovable, motherly, genteel, sterling woman. Girls make me weary, and I'm going to organ ize the business of getting what I want. I can give an hour a day for the next year to the finding of what I want, and I’m too old-a business hand to have what I don’t want." So Cline at forty-four organized him self. Set up a matrimonial bureau iu that private office with cathedral win dows. Put his number eleven gaiter on sentiment. Chucked the forget-me-nots out of his soul and came down to hard- pan. He would advertise. Yes, he would. No nonsensical rot about cultured gent desiring to meet cultured lady, but straight business proposition. It would involve immense clerical system—very well, would get typewriter, dictate an swers for an hour every morning. “First thing to do—get typewriter; must be business girl.” H. One morning there came to Cline's general office in Broad street a girl in a baby waist, with a pearl-gray pelisse over her shoulders and a cornelian ring on her finger. One of Cline's young men first noticed her standing by the door, lie told me afterwards that what he noticed was the absuid chip sailor hat with a blue ribbon and an anchor on it, and he wondered if she hadn’t borrowed it from her little brother to come down town in; it set up so perky nud saucily on top ol her ridiculous wad of brown hnir as if she might be a lieutenant in the Salvation Army. It’s astonishing what things these young idiots notice. He went round and said, “What can wc do for you, madam?” “Madam” is a kind of official squelcher kept for girls who venture away from their proper salesrooms to where young men can get back at them and pay them oil in their own coin. . “I am n typewriter,” said Chip Hat, very meekly. “I came to answer an ad vertisement." They directed her into the little office with cathedral windows. Then they saw the chip hat go through the fatal glass door ou the other side of which Cline kept his grim official severity. IU. He was signing checks. It was one of the most serious moments of his life. He looked up and saw the chip hal cocked on top of the brown hair. He leaned back in bis cathedral chair and fastened bis commercial eye on his check book. “Well, young woman, I want s dis creet confidential s cretary to answer cor respondents. She's got to be here at tei o'clock every morning, attend to businesi strictly, and she don't get sway till two or three The salary is $18 a we«k. JR yon think you can get down to that kind of drudgery for that pittance and keep the busines in this room?” All that Cline ever heard was a de mure little “Yes, sir,” that had th« same suggestion of tremolo in it that one gets from raspberry jelly. “All right. I can't bother with yox to-day; come to-morrow,” and Cline fell to signing checks, and Chip Hat went away, and the young man outside poked his nose through the crystal portal ol his barrier, puckered his lips and flipped two or three bars of “The Maid with the Milking Pali” after her. IV. . The little office with the cathedra] windows took on a new feiture. Then was an instrument under the sash, with a. black tin roof over it, and a little sailor bat, with a blue ribbon on it, hung on the bronze peg opgosite the door. “Now, then,” said Cline, putting on a most forbidding air of strict business. “You understand that the matter for which I have engaged you is entirely aside from the regular business of this office. By the way, what shall I call you? Miss what? Chalcey? Well, never mind the Nelly, I’ll call you Miss Chalcey, it’s more business like; and I don’t want you to talk outside ot this room auouc any of the business you have to transact here. Do you understand? If you get that straight to begin with there'll be no trouble.” Then she turned her demure face to wards him and said, “Yes, sir,” so meekly and patiently and profounly that he noticed her eyes. They were agates moss agates, by Jove. Funny little spots in them that swam and danced round and melted into each other in tha most absurdly molten way, as if there might be little caldrons under them where the light was boiled and softened down into some ridiculous girl nonsense. The worst of it was they always seemed to be just on :he point of boiling over, as of light, like music, had some kind of inscrutable pathos in it. V. So they got along very nicely without any nonsense. Cline would come in about half past ten or eleven, look to see if the sailor hat was hanging on the peg, grunt out, “Good morning, Miss Chalcey,” and then sit down at his desk to open letters. Sometimes she would sit demurely for half an hour, her bead turned, looking out of the one clear lit tle pane in the cathedral window straight at Bob Slocum’s Gothic office opposite, where there was never anything to see except Bob Slocum’s window shades, and that piece of telegraph taps that dangled forever from the wires overhead, in spite of all the sparrows that had tried to pull it off. At other times Cline would dic tate, and then the click of the instru ment drowted the monotonous chirp of the janitor’s bullfinch that was whistling somewhere. Of course she got to know all about it —what it was he was trying to do—and he grew to consult her on some of the details. Like a good girl she put her whole heart into it and really tried to help him all she could to find the wife he wanted. How could she help it, and then, too, she couldn’t help finding out by degrees that Cline drew some heavy checks and had a swell circle of acquaint ances. And he—well he, like a good method ical business man, fell into a routine hero as elsewhere. His heart was constructed on solid clock-work business principles, and one morning when he came in the sai lor hat was pot on the peg. It annoyed him at once. It always does annoy a busi ness man to have things irregular. He fidgeted in his chair. It was too bad. Nobody could be depended on, and here were several letters to jo answered. He called Swain in. “Where is that young woman?" Swain started a- little, os if he felt guilty of having abducted her, and said, “What do you want, a typewriter? Here's Wallace and Durea and Clapp, any one of ’em can—” And Cline shouted, “Nonsense! Shut the door!” , Then he noticed the bronze peg. It had an ironical and plucked aspect. He sat down in the chair by the win dow and looked at Bob Slocum's shades. He coulda’t help wondering what Miss Chalcey found to think about during all the vacant hours when she looked out there, waitingly. The next day when she came he repri manded her fiercely. “It annoye-I me very much," he said from his chair, with out looking rouad. “You should have sent me some word. I depended on you It’s very irregular and unbusinesslike.” She turned round and looked at him in her meek way. "My mother is dying, ,- she said. “I have neglected her to-day so as not to disappoint you.” His astonishment twisted him round in his chair, and he came plump up against the agates, swimming in some kind ol light he had never seen before. “Confound it, Miss Chalcey,” he said, jumping up. “What do you mean t>y having a sick mother and not telling mel What do you mean by coming here to day? Will you never get any businesi ideas into your head? I told you that this room was to be confidential. Do you call it confidential to act in this i manner? I’m surprise!, Mbs Chalcey. I’m hurt,” He took down the sailor hat. “You are to go back to your mother—at once.” He opened the door. “Here, Swain, get me a coupe.” And Swain saw the sailor hat in his hand. VI. It was about a week after this. The room had half a ton of letters in it. Cline used to come in.' look at the bronze Deo and go away again. Tuen tue sailor hat reappeared. Miss Chalcey was there waiting, so was her little lunch that she always ate when Cline and Wallace went down to Del monico’s, and on Cline’s desk was a tiny bunch of violets. He shook hands wiffi her, congratulated her on her mother's recovery, and said: "Pshaw! don't men tion it, my child. I’m just about as kind as the average business man—no more, no less. We've got a terrible lot of busi ness here." They both laughed I Cline was in particularly good spirit; that morning. It was so comfortable, don't you know, to have the office rou tine go on its regular business-like way —to hear the click of the instrument ; to get side glimpses of two white rounded wrists dancing a gallopade; to know that the chip hat was covering uptbatbrocz.' peg, and you couldn’t hear the bullfinch. It went on about a week, with a little bunch of violets every morning on Id deck, which he always put in bis butte, hole when he wont uptown. There we, two days when he hadn't got a pin, and she bad, and so i.he fastened them on foe him, and there was one awfully nasty day when he actually helped her oat her lunch, and enjoyed it. Then the whole affair came to a sud den stop. These things always do in real life. It was a Monday^ morning. She had hung up her hat and dusted off her ma chine and looked to see if Bob Slocum's shades were there, when Cline said, with a horribly sad expression of counte nance “Miss Cline, you've been a very faith ful aud efficient secretary, and I’m sorry I’ve got to lose you, but the fact is I’ve found the woman I want, and of course I shall not need you any more.” She was looking at him dreamily, as if she wondered where the paragon came from that filled his bill. “Yes,” he said, “strange as it may sound I’ve actually picked out the woman who is to be my wife and I shall not want a secretary. We've hal a very pleasant time here together, bavea’t we?” “Yes, sir.” “And you remember all the qualities that I was fool enough to expect in one woman ?” “Yes, sir.” “Well, I’ve found most of ’em.” “I’m very glad, sir.” “Do you think, M'ss Chalcey, from what you know of me, that she will have me if I ask her?” “Yes, sir.” “You really and truly think so, on business principles?" “Yes, sir." “Then, by Jove, I’ll marry her. You can consider yourself discharged, Miss Cline—Nelly.” And she was. The only unbusiness-like thing they did was to both try to look nut the ridi culous little pane at the same time—and no two business people could do that simultaneously without looking lik« Siamese twins.—New York World. Thj Train Dispatohtr's Work. A train dispatcher of tbo Lake Shore road says: 1 ‘Many people have an idea that a train dispatcher controls every movement of each train on a railroad, and that no trains cm move without his orders or permission. This is a mis take,as each train has a scheduled time. Each conductor and engineer is pro vided with a time card, showing time ot each train on the road, and where to meet and pass each other, and if all trains were run exactly on time there would be no use for train dispatchers. I have people make remarks about the re sponsibility of a train dispatcher. Evea newspapers take up and convey the idea that if the train dispatcher relaxed his watch on the trains for a single moment a collision was liable to occur. This is another great mistake, as, if trains or trainmen follow the rules and schedule •udthe train dispatcher lets them alone, they would run until doomsday before they would ‘get together,’ as the rail road boys would say. It is only when trains become late that the train dis patcher gets in his work. If it were, as a great many people imagine, that trains were started out like a raft down a river to trust to luck and the train dis patcher to pull them through, I would not want to travel very much in this country, for about the first day out some backswoodsman, in felling a tree, would break or cross all the wires and the train dispatcher would sit in Ids office and im agine he heard the engines come to. gether. But under the present system of train dispatching the wires may bi all swept away by a cyclone, but still there is no chance for a collision. It is when the train dispatcher does not in terfere with the running of trains that he must be careful to see that no mis take is made by himself or the operatoi who delivers the order to the conduc Oil earn Tirm-Democral. OCEAN CABLES. HOW BROKKN WIRES ARE RAISED AND SPLICED. A Work That Is Very Costly and Difficult—LocatinK a Break— Grappling In Water Two Miles in Depth. If you visit any of the cable offices in town you may see small sections of the cables. They are used as paper weights and the like. Their diameter varies from that of a silver half dollar to that of a good-sized tea-cup. If you see the man ner in which the wires that go to make them up are twisted and interweaved you will come to the conclusion that any of these cable's, big or little, are enormously strong and capable of standing a tre mendous strain. And yet these ocean cables break, strong as they are, and what is more the breaks are at times very serious. Mend ing cable wires lying near the shore and- in water that is comparatively shallow is not such a difficult matter, but when it comes to patching up a deep sea wire fhat lies on the bed of the ocean hun dreds of fathoms deep, why that is alto gether another matter. It must not be supposed that ocean cables break often. They do not. Still they break often enough to keep the ves sels used by the compauies for the pur pose pretty busy repairing them. There are seven or eight of these ocean cables, now owned by the Western Union, the. Anglo-American and the Commercial Cable companies. Off the banks of Newfoundland cables are often broken by coming into contact with the dragging anchors of fishing' boats. These breaks are very awkward ones. Then the icebergs that float down- from the North at certain seasons ex- tend deep under the water and damage the wires badly. Then the wear and tear of time is another cause of breakage. The bottom, of the ocean is not flat like the top of a table, but has mountains as wild and[ valleys as deep as any that you can find between New York and San Francisco., So the cable that stretches from Nova Scotia to the coast of Ireland has to span some pretty rough country. The cable companies have now re duced the mending of cables down to a system. It is regarded as a part of their regular business, just as it is to keep linemen at work on land. The companies each year set aside so much money to the account of repairs, and men, and all things needed, are kept constantly on hand. It costs a very pretty penny to fix an ocean cable when it breaks. The com panies have in such a case to maintain a fully equipped ocean steamer with expert navigators and electricians on board, whose business it is to devote their trained knowledge to this single matter for, say, two weeks or a month. If, as the Western Union does, they hire a steamer, they must pay for her a daily rental of $1200. So far, say, three weeks, the rental would run up to more than $25,000, a pretty number of pennies, too. Then, in addition to this, there Is the actual cost of the repairs and the twenty-five or thiity miles of new cable usually used in big breaks. Cable sold by the yard, mark you, too, is as costly as the finest lace. There have been breaks in the cables that have cost as much as $100,000, but of course these were exceptioual. The first thing that the experts have to do when it is found that there is a break somewhere in the wire, is to lo cate that break, sad this is not altogether an easy matter. Still the electricians have brought it down to a pretty fine science, and can figure with very great accuracy as to where any break may be. They have now an instrument by which they can determine with much nicety how far an electric current started on a given line travels bsfore it is inter rupted. A calculation is made on this side of the Atlantic by means of this in strument and a similar one on the other, and between the two the true location is pretty nearly determined. Having determined the location of the break the way is clear. The captain or navigator is informed as to the distance from land the trouble is, and is shown by the chart of the route of the wires that the company has on hand just where he has to go. So fine is the system that he can sometimes steam to the very spot where the cable has parted. Then comes the grappling for the broken ends. This is quite a long job at times. It is sure to be if the weather is stormy. Grappling tor a cable in scv : eral hundred fathoms of water, with the waves running mountains high, is, to say the least, not an easy task. However, in ordinarily fair weather, two or three days, or even less, is sufficient time to bring the parted strands to the sur face. The grappling irons are long and heavy, with great hooks on the end that makes Jhem look the giant's fishing tackle that they are. They arc attached to huge cables, and are manipulated from the deck by means of machinery, and thus the cables are fished for. The re pairers usually aim to grapple with the cable about ten miles from where the break took place. It would not do to grapple if too near the end, for it would then slip off the hook before if could be brought to the steamer's deck. When the cable is grappled the men on the steamer, by the strain where the cable that holds the grappling has gone overboard, know that they have caught their fish. The next thing is to get it on board. The strain on the cable is guaged by a dynamometer, and thus it can be told when the big wire is coming up all right. In some cases when the cable comes to the surface it is found that it has not been broken at ail, but that the electro current has been inter rupted by some defect in the insulation or something of that kind. In this case the matter is easily remedied. When the cable is tound to be broken, the next thing to do after picking uo the ends is to splice them together. First, however, communication is estab lished with both the land stations to make sure that, aside from this single break, communication is uninterrupted. Then the work of splicing goes on, and Ibis is something that must be done very carefully. Sometimes when the cable is broken it becomes twisted anil torn (or a considerable distance. The repairers set to work to cut away every part that is at all damaged, a and piece of new cable is spliced in. Ordinarily the repairing of the cable may be carried on on the deck of the steamer without much interruption. But not so In stormy weather. Work then is frequently interfered with. But this the repairers now go prepared for. They have immense buoys known as “cable buoys.” It is carried especially for use in rough weather. When a storm comes up, and the waves commence to run high and toss the steamer about from -place to place it is obviously impossible to keep the ends of the cables safe on tbo steamer. This is not attempted. The ends of the broken cables are attached to these buoys and they are turned over to Fa ther Neptune to have fun with. When he has satisfied himself and the storm has gone down the buoys are picked up again easily and the work of repair again goes on until it is finished.—New York Newt. SuperstitiMS Chinese tiamblers. Chinese gamblers are not less super- ititioue than those of other races. The >wners ot the gaming establishments use nothing but white in the decoration of the quarters they occupy, because this is the color of mourning as well as the hue af the robes worn by the spirits of the dead in the after world. It is always considered inauspicious, is associated with the idea of losing money and is be lieved to bring bad fortune to the patrons, with corresponding gains to the com panies. Pieces of orange peel are kept in the box with the fan tan cash to bring good luck to the house. In San Fran cisco each gambling house provides a supper nightly for its customers. Any one may eat what he wants without charge, but the meal is consumed in si lence, because it is considered unlucky to talk. Gamblers on their way to piay fan tau turn back if any one jostles them. They refrain from reading books before playing, because the word for “book” in the provincial patois is the same as the word for “lose.” The almanac, which is properly termed the “star book," is al ways referred to as “lucky stars, ” to avoid the omninous designation. Gamblers use the almanac a great deal in the selection of lucky and unlucky days. It also con tains rules for the interpietation of dreams, to which the utmost importance is attached. Many devices are resorted to in order to secure the winning numbers in the lot tery. Some mark the tickets with their eyes closed, while others mark such of the characters as when read in succession will form a happy sentence. A young child is often called upon to mark the tickets. At the shrine of the god of war eighty splints of bamboo, marked with the eighty lottery characters, are or dinarily kept for the convenience of gam blers, who make selection from them at random and mark tbeir tickets accord ingly. Among the questions asked on the occasion of the new year's pilgrimage to the temple is whether the votary will be fortunate at play during the coming twelvemonth. Many burn incense and mock money before the god when they intend gambling, and in a fan-tan cellar a tablet is invariably erected to the lord of the place, a tutelary diviuity who is thought to rule the household ghosts.— Woehington litar. Murder as a Matter af Cours?. A European traveler, who was visiting the court of the Inam of Muscat not long ago, relates the tollowing : “I hid heard that no ruler of Musc.it for the last hun dred years had died a natural death, aud was interested, when in ourc inversation, the Iina-.u himself introduced the matter of this extraordinary fatality among the sovereigns of his country.” "Is it true,’ I ventured to ask, “that no Imam for a hundred years has died in his bed?’’ “Certainly not,"said he, with a perfectly grave face; “let mo see—four of them have died ia bed.” "And they were not assassinated, then?" “Well,” he said, “it is true that they were found under the mattress instead of on top of it, but they unquestionably died in bed.” They had been smothered by their heirs ap parent.—Argonaut. A woman dentist in New York uses $1000 worth of gold lllliug in her patrons’ teeth every year. A V0UD00 DANCE. DESCRIPTION OF A CRAZY ORGIE IN HAYTI. Men and Women Work Themselves Up to a High State of Ex citement amt Go Through Fantastic Performances. Voudooism is practiced quite generally in Hayti, but with such secrecy, especial ly in the cities, that few except natives ever witness its rites. Opinions vary as to human sacrifices. Many say they are not offered. Others think that they are always made at the great festivals, but so secretly that it is almost impossible to see them. During a political celebration in Port- au Prince one Saturday not long ago, says a writer in the New York Sun, I learned that on Sunday voudoo dances would be held in the vicinity of the city, and so on the following morring I started out to find one. I had walked out about a mile, when I heard a drum in the dis tance. I toiled along under the broiling sue. and at last located the sound behind a screen of freshly cut palms at a little distance from the road. A number of saddled horses were tied to the trees, aud I pushed my way through a gap to find iu front of me a pavilion about thirty feet square and opeu at the sides. The flat roof was formed of palm branches and was supported at the centre by a big post. At one end were three men with cylindrical drums made of hollowed logs, one end closed with dried goat skins, the other solid wood. They varied iu length from four feet to two. Near the smallest was a man with a long cow bell. I took a position outside of the arbor, and little or no attention was paid to me at first, as all hands were watching the entrance to a hut. Presently the drums struck up, all the spectators joined in a guttural chant, and the high priest, or “Papaloi,” came Irom the hut, bearing a china mug carefully covered with a silk handkerchief. With him were an assistant priest and a master of cere monies, with u small silver bell. Then came "Mammaloi," or priestess, with a small gourd, covered with strings of beads. This she rattled almost con stantly iu time with the drums. All were well dressed, as were also the fifty or sixty spectators, mostly women, who were seated or crouched on the ground on three sides of the arbor. The Papaloi was an enormous man, over six feet tall aud splendidly proportioned. The little procession passed around the pavilion and paused in front of the drums. The Papaloi made a number of gesture?, bolding his covered mug high in front of him, and then he slowly brought it toward his lips. Another large silk handkerchief whs thrown over his head, mug and all, aud he drank Instantly he threw off the handkerchief and poured the mug's contents, which locked like water, on the ground on three spots in front of the drums. He sprang to one side and there was a mad rush of woraeu to the spots. They grovelled on the ground, licking the wet dirt, and covering their noses with dabs of mud. Then one by one they crawled to the Papaloi, kissing the ground be fore him, and striking it with their fore heads. He raised them to their knees, wiped their faces with a silk handker chief, and, taking one by the right hand, he elevated his arm to its full length, and she turned under it to the right, then to the left, and all resumed their seats. One middle-aged woman began danc ing alone. She became violent and streams of prespiration rolled down her face. She danced up to the Papaloi and bent over so that siic touched the ground with the tips of her fingers, and then, springing up, touched her body. He arose and repeated her motions. She took n silk handkerchief and wiped ids face carefully. He did the same to her. The dance became more violent, until the Papaloi disappeared in the hut. He emerged with the covered mug, and offered it to her, while the master ol ceremonies threw the usual square of silk over her head. She emptied it at a draught. The dancer seizing her dress with both hands, did most wonderful hopping around is a circle. Finally she fell, rolled over and over, raised herself to her knees, her eyes closed, her mouth foaming, and her face contorted, and t commenced moving her head round and 1 round, faster aud faster, until it seemed that it must fly off. Suddenly she stopped, rose to her feet, and then, with out an effort to save herself, tumbled over bao'c.vard as if she were dead. The old Mammaloi handed her gourd to another, took her place in the centre, and grasped the post. Suddenly hei whole body gave a ghastly twitch and her face became contorted. Again and again the shudders were repeated with shorter intervals, while her large eyes seemed about to start from her head. It was the most fascinating thing I have ever seen, and l felt the perspiration gather and roll down as I stared at her. Suddenly she broke into a gallop around ibe post. Bound mid round she went, stopping occasionally to twitch and glare about'her. Then she sprang to the Papaloi, seized him by the hands, drugged him out aud stared into his face. She whispered something in one ear, then iu the other. Then she kissed him ou both cheeks and the mouth. She rubbed the point of her nose against his, then both rubbed faces. She broke away to resume her position at the cen tre pole, while the Papaloi withdrew for the mug. Her eyes met mine, she advanced, seized my hands, and repeated the kissing aud nose rubbing. It was not pleasant, but a furtive glance at the solemn faces around me informed me that discretion was better than cleanli ness. I submitted. The master of cere- mouics approached me and, after another handshake, invited me to drink. I de clined with thanks. The priestess drank, aud the orgy oontinued. The three priests went into the hut. Presently the Papaloi returned alone, a I litter like insanity in his eyes and his louth flecked with foam. The master f ceremonies and his assistant came rom the hut, bearing a white chicken, ’hey approached the Papaloi. In- tautly all rushed to him, and he was oncealed by the panting, furious crowd or five minutes. When the crowd pened the dancing women had triangu- ir blotches of blood on their foreheads nd bloody mouths. The chicken had lisappeared. Up to the time when I left, the dance iad been in progress about three hours, ,ud there had been no drunkenness, but ay impression was that the religious tart of the ceremony ended with eating he chicken, and that the drinking and he orgy generally commenced at once, o be kept up all night. I now honestly lehove in human saei ilices at these great :eremonies. The crowd I left seemed ajual to anything. Antiquity of Writing. It would appear that Palestine, or at ill events the tribes immediately sur- ■ounding it, were in close contact with i civilized power which had established trade-routes from the south, and pro tected them from the attacks of the no- nad Bedouin. The part now performed, jr supposed to be performed, by Tur- icy, was performed before the days ol Solomon by the princes and merchants >f Ma’iu. A conclusion of unexpected nterest follows this discovery. The Uimcans were a literary people; they ased an alphabetic system of writing, ind set up their inscriptions, not only in their southern homes, but also in their colonies in the north. If their records really mount back to the age now claimed for them—and-it is difficult to see where counter-arguments are to come from— they will be far older than the oldest known inscription in Phienician letters. Instead of deriving the Mimean alphabet from the Phoenician, we must derive the Phoenician alphabet from the Mimean ot from one of the Arabian alphabets ol which the Mimean was the mother; in stead of seeking in Phoenicia the primi tive home of the alphabets of our mod ern world, we shall have to look for it in Arabia. Canon Isaac Taylor, in his “History of the Alphabet,” had already found himself compelled by paheograph- ic evidence to assign a much earlier date to the alphabet of South Arabia than that which had previously been • ascribed toil, and the discoveries of Glaser and Hommel shew that he was right. The discovery of the antiquity of writing among the populations of Arabia cannot fail to influence the views that have been current of late years in re- rard to the earlier history the Old Pestament. Wc have hitherto taken it for granted that the tribes to whom the Israelites were related were illiterate no mads, and that in Midian or Edom the invaders of Palestine would have had no opportunity for making acquaintance with books aud written record?. Before j the time of Samuel and David it has been strenuously maintained that letters were unknown in Israel, but such as sumptions must now be considerably modified. The ancient Oriental world, even in northern Arabia, was a far mors literary one than wc have been accus tomed to imagine; and as for Canaan, the country in which the Israelites set tled, fought nud intermarried, we now have evidence that education was carried in it to a surprisingly high point. In the principal cities of Palestine an active literary correspondence was not only car ried ou, but was maintained by means of a foreign language aud au extremely complicated script. There must have been plcuty of schools aud teachers, ai well as of pupils nud books.— Contem porary Iltmeic. Hawaii’s Acfive Volcano. News comes from Honolulu that the volcano is exceptionally active. Fiery fountains of liquid lava are playing to a great height. The area of the great break-down which engulfed Hale-mau- mau, Dana Lake, New Like, fourteeu or fifteen blow holes and the bluffs sur rounding the pits was described by Pro fessor Brigham as 3‘J')0 feet, by 2300 feet, forming a pit with au estimated depth of S00 feet, the sides being per pendicular. Three weeks after the col lapse the lava began to reappear, and it rose in the pit about 100 feet, virtually forming a lake of liquid lava 250 to 300 feet in diameter. The level of this lake is now reported to be rising and falling as much as forty to fifty feet within an lioui, a most splendid sight.—New York Commercial Adcert iter. The ratio of insane persons in public and private institutions in the United States <0 each 1000 inhabitant? is 1.58,