The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, May 24, 1882, Image 1
? WEEKLY EDITION^ ~ WIXNSBOKO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, MAY 24, 1882. ESTABLISHED IN 1844. ^
* ....
Silence is (JolJ.
We walked among the woods in spring,
When earth vas fair to see,
With bluebell and -with cherry bloom
^ And white anemone.
S Then one of ua, I think, iorgct
& The truth, so often told?
f That speech is only silver, dear,
But silence often gold.
You talked to me of tint and tone,
Hr Of subtle green and gray;
Of lisht and shade, and glint and gleam,
' And sunbeam's tender play.
You made me strain my ears to hear
Each tinkling phrase unfold;
Your speech, may be, was silver-gilt,
But yet it was not gold.
' Ah, me! you thought me savrge then,
A Philistinic boy ;
I know full well, that sweet spring day
You robbed me of my joy.
' The false, aesthetic brass, 'tis true,
Your purse could never hold ;
Would it had held less silver, then,
And greater store_of gold!
The eyes to see, the ears to hear.
The very siglit and sound ;
Bui speak not, for the place -whereon
You stand is holy ground !
Yes, look and tnink, if think you can,
But leave the thought untold ;
For speech is only silver, dear,
v.. But silence purest gold.
-v. ?- ?
, MISS PRUE'S PARTY.
"Thirty dollars and twenty-five cents
?and I've 'arned it, mercy knows!"
Miss Merriweather glanced down at
, the little heap of fresh, nsw green and
brown bills lying npon the whitelysconred.
pine-table, in a retrospective
manner.
"Jest to think of the batches of tnr*
keys Fve rose?pampered 'em up like
they was babies, too?an' the piles of
yaller bellflowors and northern spies
* I've cut and dried, and tne yards of
domestic I've "wove?jes, I do say I've
'arned it gocd I"
"An' you orto chuck it riglit straight
into the bank, and it'll draw interest."
Miss Prue's sister, Mrs. Potter, a
little, wilted-looking womar, with a
small nub of dusty, flaxen hair pinned
t tightly at the back of her head, who was
manufacturing pumpkir. preserves in a
big brass kettle, swung over the blaze
in the fire-place, had one single idea of
? ? 1 * J ? L L
Bona comiorc?money mterebii,
"Banks ain't always safe," remarked
Bliss Prue, half to herself; t:an'I don't
see as money's mnch use noways ef you
keep it poked in a bank always, so yon
can't get it ef yon want to. I reckon
ril hev some good oat'n this, anyhow.
Fm goin' to give a?"
"A ^arty! screamed Meg Potter, a
ATTft/1 /Y^ ? ! 1 Y*? A *
?>XL?1 Ck ICU <
jacket, that was watering a thrifty
plant that dwelt in an ancient coffee- s
boiler in the kitchen-window. "Oh,
yes, do Aunt Prue! and I'll help you i
to make the cakes, and well invite those 1
#?"hft-rmincr 7?1oah<vra f n0f-. fiavo insf. Cdmp 1
from the city, and?" <
"No, we won't!'' said Miss Prxie, de- !
cisively. ,:Eit aia't a-goin' to be no t
sich a affair : an' I'll tell yon once an' ]
fer all it's only a-gom' to be a party for !
poor folks-them as don't never have J
no tnrkey or pluzn-pnddin' I'm a-goin'
to scratch ronn' in all the highways and :
v bywaj3 for the poorest and mizzablesfc. <
hfe. an'make'em all come: an' I'm a-goin' '
to give 'em one good zness of frosted I
M^V. : pound cake, an* 3emon pies, an' boned ^
turkey, an' cranberry jelly, an' all sich."
jG>~ "Fudge I" grumbled Meg, thumping ]
her watering-pot down with emphasis,
"that won't te nice!"
"Landv mussey I" groaned Mrs. Potter,
"von always was quare, Prue Merriweather;
but this here's the cap (
sheaf. They'll most likely git sick, an'
t blame you fer it, an'call you names, an' j
vnnr mnr.pv'll all h? wasted. 'whftn vnn
4 might save it up. EE you're afraid of a ,
* bank, lend it out?"
a-goin' to," interrupted Miss
Frt? " 'Whcso giveth to the poor
lendeth to the Lord.' I'm a-goin' to j
lend this much to the Lord, anyway."
"J5Qt you won'c gic no interest, * mourned
her sister, stirring up her preserves
with much dejeesion.
"I ain't afraid of gettin' cheated, noway,"
said Miss Prue, drily.
And as there was no hope whatever of
persuading her to change her mind, her
sister and niece were constrained to
make the best of it, and help along
with the preparations.
"Looks like as if you was a-cookin'
% your weddin' dinner, Prue Merriweather,"
tittered Miss Jemima -Jonquil, ,
appearing in the doorway with a purple M
calico aoron Dinned over her head, and ,
? glancing critically at the row of lemon
and coceannt pies npon the cupboard,
beside which stood a great cake studded
with raisins and citron. "I come to
fetch your pattern bach; an' seemed like
I smelt nutmegs an' things here, so I
come this way."
Miss Jonquil was chunky and fair, !
21X1U. a v VLulJ *.lii01.UCUiu.UJ? UAUUCl .
and light-gray eyes.
"Law me!" she continued, gliding in, 1
and piumping herself into a rocking- .
! chair by the fire, "ef it ain't this very
day ter. years ago that you was cookin' 1
np* things jest like yon air now, 'cause
yon 'lowed Jim Griggs wonld be back ;
from Idyho next day. We all tole yon
not to pnt no faith in his promisin'? '
like as not he wouldn't come, he was
always so keerless; bnt you wuc jest .
that headstrong you would fix fer him,
an' hev a party to welcome him, anyhow
Beckon yon thought it might be your
weddm'-day ef he tuck a notion to suggest
it?fer I s pose he hedn't epoke al.
ready." ;
"You needn't bother yourself none
about whether he hed or not," said
Miss Prue flushing. "He didn't never
come, so I reckon yon was satisfied."
"On, no*, Prue!" said Miss Jemima,
reproachfully, "yon know 1 was awfully
sorry when he didn't come, yon looked
so distressed like; an' I pitied you ever
since. Seemed like you thought such a
heap of Jim; ef he'd only returned, you
might a been Mrs. Griggs all this time.
But sskes! he must be married long
ago; an' I s'pose yon don't expect ever |
to be nothing but an old mafd now?" i
Miss Jonquil, being fully six months
younger than Miss Merriweather, could
afford this fling.
"I don't expect nothing only what
Providence sends," said Mis3 Prue, composedly,
setting a plate of cranberry
tarts in the window to cooL
A great fire rcareu in Miss Merriweather's
parlor next day, upon the
r andirons, whose glittering Drass neaas ;
flashedjbsck the light in broken glints, I
and the strange guests were soon as- i
sembled, enjoying the novelty and exchanging
greetings, comments and criticisms.
"Dear me!" said an old lady in a linsey
shawl, who earned a scanty living
by knitting socks for the village store,
"if there ain't Jane Higgs, that washes
for them rough miners?and looking as j
OKA tVksmorKf TTTOC QG &T1V- 1
U OUC VUUU^UU OUV ?* MV W y
body!"
"And just see old Daddy Skiikins,
with his wall-eyfs and bristles! I know
he'll spoil my appetite," remarked Mrs.
Baker, who was almost helpless with
dropsy. "I do think he might have
had sense encusrh to stay awav?the old
ape!"
Brit Daddy Skifkins, far from suspecting
himself of being an object of
aversion, was bent on making himself
agreeable to all, and trotted abont from
the fire to the dining-room door with
gleeful exclamations of?<iCrickeyrwhat
. ft hunker fire! She's an angel, Miss
. .. o
llilfr
Pru3 is! There's a turkey fcigger'n a
wash-tub! Bless her heart! don't it jest
make a feller feel like goiir to church
What a cake! Ain't it a screamer!" etc.,
until Sirs. Baker requested him to shut
his mouth and not make a fool of himself.
Miss Prue felt that she had an ample
reward in the happiness she had the
means of bestowing upon these poor
creatures, into whose lives so few such
gleams as this had fallen.
"If people would only seek happiness
in this manner they would find it
oftener," she thought.
Meg, who was helping her aunt set
the table, foand the affair rather an interesting
experiment; and even Mrs.
Potter conceded that lending to the
Lord was not a bad investment.
Miss Merriweather was just finishing
cff her table arrangements with a great
| glass dish of oranges, when Daddy
| Skifkins came skipping out, in much
excitement.
"Miss Prue," he exclaimed, there's a
feller outside sav3 kain't he ccme in,
'cause it's a-snowin' powerful? An'
Mrs. Baker an' Granny Larkins says
he shain't come in; but seems kinder
rong'n on a feller to not hev no place to
go, an* I reckon he ain't; an'?"
"Of course he can come in," said
Miss Prue, settling the last orange.
"Wait?I'll let him in myself."
As she opened the door, a tall form,
in a rough, gray overcoat, all dappled
with snow, walked in.
"Prue!" exclaimed a deep voice, just
a little tremulons.
And, without further notice, the tall
and saucy stranger gave Miss Prue a
very snowy hu<?.
"Jim?Jim Griggs?is it really you ?"
cried Miss Prue, returning the hug, in
fhA of all the* aroests. who had
trooped into the hall, with Mrs. Potter
and Meg close behind.
"It's Jim Griggs and nobody else I"
returned the stranger, cheerily." "And
every year for the past ten it's been my
intention to come home on this very
day of this very month, because it's the
anniversary of that day I promised to
1 T L ^11 T X. L!11 . 3 ? _
come, wneu 1 got an uui> &uiea m a
smash-up, and robbed afterward: and
when I goi into ?. traveling condition,
come bask X ^rouldn'i, with never a cent,
when I had made a fortune; and I vowed
a vow not to come till I had it back?
which I've done at last?and to come
this night when I did. Letters we poor
wretches couldn't send oftener than
once in six months, and they mostly
went astray?all the mail-agent didn't
l i.: T
puo 1LT ins IUL oaxo-jx^cyiug?ou ?
wouidn't risk it, not being any hand to
write, anyway, and I always said next
year I'll go tsure. I knew you'd wait
for xne, Prue, xev darling, and here you
are, with everything and everybody, to
welcome back the prodigal 1"
Mr. Griggs finished his explanation
before the bounteous fire, with Daddy
Skifkins revolving aronnd him in a
perfect ecstasy, and everybody talking
it once.
Miss Prue took th9 opportunity to
indulge in a thankful little cry behind
the dining-room door. But it somehow
happened that while the guests were
ssjoyinj? their banquet?for which Mrs.
Baker's appetite was not found to be
seriously impaired by Daddy Ski thins'
presence?Mr. Griggs persuaded Miss
Prue to take a little walk with him a,s
far as the minister's residence.
"'Pears like it was her weddin'-cinner
>he was a-ccokin', after all," said Miss
Jonquil, when she heard the news.
"But, law saJjes I" she added, with a
;itter, "'tweren't a very stylish affair* I
wouldn't have no sich a wcddia'!"
"Which remark did not trouble the
[ate Miss Merriweather in the least-.
Tlie "Wrong Gun.
A countryman came into a stoie the
)ther day and wanted to buy a shot
?un. The proprietor sized up his customer
in a general manner, thought he
lad struck just the right man on whom
;o work off some old stock. Th9 far?
?? x * ? ?1. ? ?? n tffV.rt
IltJr UlUUgJLIO UC liOCI 1UCU Ck jLUf?u. nuw
yas so genial and affable, and became
>o much in love with the storekeeper
;hat be nearly decided not to leave the
premises, but to remain to enjoy the
society of his entertainer.
He had been looking at a piece of
jrdnance appraisea at $6.75, whan the
storekeeper reached back in the corner
md brought forth another.
"This gun isn't worth so much as that
fou have in your hand," saidS&e. "It
iooks a little better, but it rats only
gotten up to sell. App arances are dejeitful,
you know, and traveling
rhrough this vale of tears you fcave to
cos cioseiy to your steps, a juso ?uu?cu
rou this last gun, which I sell by the
iozen for five dollars apiece, to teach
,-ou how you might be deceived. It
looks a superior article to this one for
56,75 but you can't do near the eiecu;ion
with it that you can with the latter,
ind, besides, a man with your culture
ind general intelligence don't want to
be fooling away hi3 time with a popgun j
ihat wont knock a red squirrel on a
sapling. This $6.75 is more suited to
ihe demands of yoor nature," and the
iealer smiled his sweetest*
"Did you say that five dollar gon
wouldn't shoot worth anything?" inquired
the customer.
<:I did. I've tried it and it is a fraud.
I only keep it to show up better goods
Kith. I never got cheated on a gun but
once and that was the time I bought
that gun."
"It ain't especially dangerous then,
is it?"
"Well, I should say not. I shot a
tramp between the shoulders with it
one day up at home, and he came and
sat down on the doorstep and asked my
mother-in-law to scratcn ms dsck.
Gtm looks good enough, but I don't
want to sell it to yon. It won't shoot
hard enough to blow the wadding out
of the barrel."
"Well, I never. Say! are you telling
me the truth?"
"Gospel truth. You ought to know
me well enough to understand that I
don't lie about my goods."
"Yes, exactly. I'm glad to hear it.
Here's your five dollars. Glad I came
here. Can't stay long, you know, for
my wife's holding the horses outside.
I don't care how mean a cr.a is for I
want to give it to my sister's boy, and I
don't want him to have an article that's
liable to go off and kill him. Don't
think I could have found as mildX
~ O T*? T7 TT T"1 f)
CtJLLL ^tri cu. a t*uj nuv^v vawwj ? ?
yon ? Good day," and he was gone.
The merchant stepped out to the
edge of the -walk as the wagon rolled
off up the muddy street, and gazed after
it long and anxiously, and then turned
and came back into the store and rearranged
the cases. He didn't seem excited
or grit his teeth or swear, but cfttimes
a calm and unruffled exterior mav
- n J C*.
niae a worm ot wye, auu m ?u.?j
some time before the merchant will
show a guileless granger a twenty-dollar
gun for one-fourth its value simply
to furnish him information about the
relative merits of sporting apparatus.
If you have a fault, stifle it. If you
have a virtue, hold fast to it. If you
have a friend, stand by him by anticipating
his needs, by prompt and full
assistance in the time of trouble. If
you have a wife and home, treat the
f rmer with that love acd kindness
which yon swore so to do, and your
home, the training-school of your child!
ren, make that sacred place the abode
I of joy, and its hearth the seat of comfort,
"to be held with its noble influences
in loving remembrance, long after its
honored head has paid that penalty of
life, which men below tern death.
, WASHINGTON ROGUES.
1 How the Verdant are Swindled at the National
C'ipitnl?Gointr to See the Statues
; Unveiled at Arlington and What it Coat*.
For several years Washington has
been infested with gangs of scoundrels
i whose ability in rascality was never
i equaled, and whose operations have
' been bevnnd the reach of justice. Their
tricks were never practiced nor attempted
on the citizens ot Washington,
but were confined to visitors from the
various sections of thi3 country and
abroad. The gangs have long been
known as the "monte men." Each gang
consisted of four persons, namely, first,
the man who "connects"; tha1; is, the
man who first approaches the stranger
selected for fleecing ; second, the friend
of number one, who is generally represented
to be a clerk in one of the departments
; third, the old farmer, and
fourth, the "ekeer." There have been
several of these gangs at work here.
One operated across the Potomac,
another at the arsenal, and others at
different points where booty was promising.
Their manner of doing business was
something like this: No. 1 of the gang,
trim r>iA rivAr Rtat.innefl himfifilf
at the Capitol, at the Treasury, at the
White House, or some other public
place agreed on between himself and
confederates. He was genteel in bearing
and appearance, scrupulously
dressed, with nothing of the flash or
fast about him. Of quick instincts and
large experience, he could easily choose
his victims. He rarely failed to bag his
game. If he saw a well-dressed man 1
with a guide-book of the city looking
about and ecjoyingthe sights, it did rot
take him long to "connect.'1 He would
approach the stranger in the most
careless gentlemanly manner and ask to
be directed to some imaginary place or
statue. Of course the man with the
guide-book would answer that he was a
stranger and could not direct him. The
sharper would then say that he was also
a stranger, but was then waiting for a
friend of his, a department clerk, who
had promised to meet him there and
show him the eights. Common-place
conversation foliowed between No. 1
and the stranger, until suaaemy tne
"department clerk" (No. one'e confederate)
comes up and greets his friend
warmly. He apologizes for his delay
by saying that he was engaged with the
secretary on some important matters.
This, of course, always impresses the
stranger. Then the clerk would propose
to start. His friend would ask
where they had better go. The clerk
would say they had better go over to
Arlington, that a statue ox Custer, or
Lincoln, or Lee, as the case might be,
was to be unveiled at two o'clock, and
that the President and cabinet and
Supreme court and the foreign ministers
in their uniforms would all be
present and it would be a grand sight.
Before this, however, the sharper
would find ont where the stranger was
from and something about him. If
he was a Democrat and from the South,
it would probably be Lee's statue that
was to be unveiled; if he was from Illinois
and a Republican, it would be
Lincoln's, and so on. Nine chances to
one the stranger would ask to go along.
If not, then the department clerk would
say to his friend : "Would not your
friend (meaning the stranger) like to go
along ? I shall have to get two passes
anyway and I may as well get three if
-wnnld likft to co." Then introduc
tions would follow and the end would
be that the stranger would go with his
newly-made acquaintances. The sharpers
would have a row-boat moored somewhere
along the shore in charge of a
pretended fisherman and would dicker
for the boat to row across. A price
would be fixed and across the party
would go. Being on the Virginia shore
the watches would be consulted and it
v r 3 il.l 1 1J
WOtua D0 iouna iaai> an nuur ut ov wuuiu <
elapse before the ceremony would take
place.
At this point No. 3, or the old farmer,
would come in sight. Coming directly
on the party, with bluff, hearty manners,
he would inquire where "that
derned statue was to be unveiled"; that
he had been looking around for it for a
long time, etc., etc. He would be
dressed for the occasion with rough
clothe3 and boots, unshaven face and
dirty hands. A perfect actor, lie would
explain that he was from Kentucky, or
Pennsylvania, or Iowa, as the ease might
be; that he was buying up cattle or had
sold his cattle in Baltimore, and had
come to see "Washington, etc., etc., the
nf his ecmntv. and so on. He
was always chewing tobacco or smoking
a short pipe, and made himself perfectly
at home. The gentlemanly, well-dressed
sharpers would, with quiet dignity,
explain where Arlington was, and then
tell him lie had plenty of time to get
there without harrying before the ceremonies
began. Then the old farmer
would be some vol able, ask any number
of questions and become confidential.
All of a s adden he would strike the lead.
Ee would explain how he was taken in
in Baltimore. He had sold his cattle
rtnd had fallen in, he would explain,
with a lot of sharpers, and then he would
give an account of how nicely he was
done for. "I'll be derned ef they didn't
get $500 out of me auicker'n h?1
could scorch a feather"; but it was a
square thing. They gave me back $50
and showed me how to play the game.
When I get back to old Kentuck I'll
win as much as $15,000 out of the boys.
It's a slick game, I can tell ye."
He would then spread an old, dirty
bandanna handkerchief on the ground
and show the game. Taking four
greasy cards from his pocket, which he
said the sharpers had given him, he
would throw them around faces dowi:
in apparently the most careless manner.
The stranger did not notice how
small the farmer's hands were, nor how
supple they were. The handling of
cards by these people amounts almost
to genius. "Now, gentlemen," he would
explain, "you probably think you know
where the queen is, but you don't." The
department clerk would then say that
he would bet $20 that he could pick up
the queen. The farmer would take tho
bet. "I want you to know, gentlemen,
that I'm not broke if I was fleeced in
Baltimore." With that he would
pull out a "boodle." A "boodle"?it is
necessary for me to explain to your
readers?is a large roll of what looks
like greenbacks, with a few good notes
on the outside. The clerk would put
down his twenty and the farmer would
put down hi". Then the clerk would
ielect a card, it would prove to be the
queen and lie would take tbe money.
This would happen once or twice?the
stranger being able, like the others, to
see exactly where the queen was. By
this time the farmer would begin to get
uneasy and threaten to stop, etc.,
but he would say he would try it once
more. Probably at this stage the
stranger would see that he had a sure
thing, and he would bet a hundred
dollars?and lose it, at which the far
mer would be greatly delighted. "Now,"
he says, "let's try it again." The
stranger's money would go again, and
for the third time in addition. Then
the farmer would throw the cards still
more deliberately. Surely, the straDger
thought, he could win this time, but
not so. Getting a good deal excited,
the stranger at this period would play
"just to get even"?and lose, of course.
Finally, as a last coup, the larmer.
wholly by accident, of conrse, would
tnrn up the corner of the queen. This
would uppear so certain that the stranger
would bet every dollar he had?and
lose!
At this critical period down the hill
rushes the "ukeer" in the guise of a Yir
- - 4
ginian, with slouch hat and long hair
carrying a shotgun. He rashes np to
the party swearing like a 'senator, and
demands their surrender for gambling
on his grounds. ''You rascals, I'll have
yon all in the penitentiary. Don't you
know that gambling here is three years'
imprisonment and SI,000 fine?" He
grabs the old farmer, and the rest escape
to the boat. If the stranger
imonrinaa Vina Vinun caring Tori Vif Vila
companions he does not say so, for they
are two to one. By the time he gets
back to Washington he knows very well
he has been robbed. He knows, too,
that he tried to get the better of "the
farmei" and failed. Usnally he i3
ashamed of himself, says nothing, and
writes home for money. Sometimes,
however, he goes to a police station and
irakes complaint. "Where did this
thing occnr ?" "Across the river."
"Then we can't help yon, sir. Yon were
robbed in Virginia." Arid that ends it.
?[Washington Letter.
Varieties in Hand-Shaking.
The manner in which different people
shake hands varies as much as the
ones of the voice varies in the same
people, and is as much an index to the
character as the voice is. We will take
some of these people as they are to be
met any day on the streets.
The large fat man, who does not wear
a shirt collar, who perspiref! so mnch,
and who is always wiping hi? face with
a red handkerchief, reaches as a moist
hand that feels like a dime's \*orth of
link sansages, and has abont as much
life in it as a bnnale of that frnit has.
He lays Jtiis hand in onrs in a slow
indifferent way, and immediately ceases
to take further interest in this operation.
I He seems to feel that his responsibility
[ in the matter ends when he deposits
his hands in onrs. When wo give it a
shak6 and find do reciprocal action in
it, we drop the thing and realize that
the owner of that hand is not the kind
of a man we wonl 1 like to ask for the
loan of five dollars if we needed che
money.
Nest we meet a man who gives our
hand four or five robust shakes, almost
enough to dislocate onr anatomy, asks
us how we do, and does not wait for
an answer. There is no warmth of
feeling or sympathy expressed in the
shake. His creditors say that he is
a man of promise. He is the sort of
a man we would not care to trust with
an important secret or a large package
of uncounted money.
' * - ?1- - -.1.1.
iiere comes tae man who catoaett us
by the hand, begins with a crescendo
and keeps on until he reaches the diminuendo
shake, after which he still
retains his grasp, lays hi3 disengaged
hand on our shoulder and leads us into
a doorway, while he proceeds to disgorge
a chunk of uninteresting news
that was ancient history a week ago.
He does the same thing and tells the :
same news to the nest man he succeeds i
in capturing. He is the confidential j
bore and should be avoided.
Wnen we get rid of him we meet a ;
wiry, active, quick-gaited man who j
gives our hand three energetic shakes j
without any trills or semi-quavers j
aboui them, but those three shakes, (
somehow, convey the idea that the ,
shaker is a business man, abounding in ,
confidence in himself. He does not in- ;
dulge in useless compliments or stereo- ]
typed phrases. If he has anything to \
say he says it in terse terms as if he was (
writing a cablegram, and passes on. He j
is a prosperous merchant, and if he aces j
not break down from overwork he will
be worthy, aatilion z^ome ctey>~ ? ,
Next corff&s ?he young old man who
struts as he walks. He holds out two ]
fingers to be shaken. He is the patroaiz- ]
ing crank, and gives us what might be \
called the cold shake. His grand uncle ,
was "Hair-cutter extraordinary, by \
special appointment, to George the (
Third," or something oi that sort, and j
he feels that he owes ib to his grand- ,
fin/vl^'a mamftnl fn nn t.fiA rliffnitv
tj UlUiUW*^ wv ? -~~0 ^
of the family, which he thinks is be3t j
done by a penurious use of his digits \
among his acquaintances. To hand him j
two fingers to shake would be a good (
way to retaliate if it was not for the :
fact that his brain is too small to grasp 5
that amount of a hint all at one time. j
The man with a long, thin, cold j
hand, who seems to grudge the use of ^
his fingers, and only lends about three :
inches of their tips for a single shake, ;
is not a man of extravagantly generous i
l'mrmlsoq nnd trill Trover be likelv to .
die of enlargement of the heart, but ,
when wo meet a man who gives our
hand a tight grasp and a hearty shake. 3
who seems to put his whole soul into ,
ifc, and to like the esercise so much j
that he gives us an encore, so to speak, ,
we know that he is a friend and to be j
trusted. ,
There are rainy other varieties of ,
shakes that might i;e described. We
believe that not only hand- uhaking, but ,
the hani icsslf, would indicate a man's
character as well as a phrenological \
chart of his head would do. Why does
not some one study the subject ? We ;
suggest that some crank who is in need j
of a hobby should give the matter im
mediate attention.?Texas si/iings.
- j
Japanese Metal YVork.
For centuiies past the artists of
Japan have earned for themselves a
reputation for their skill in the working
oi metals, and at the present day their
productions in bronze, iron, and steel
excite admiration and astonishment.
This art industry is of extreme antiquity.
Mr. Satow, in his recent hand- '
book of Central and Northern Japan,
describes the colossal image of Bnddha :
at Nara. It vras first cast in 749 a. m., :
and was set up in its present position.
It suffered from various accidents, and
in 1567 the temnle wtn burned to the :
ground, the head of the image falling off.
It ja3 replaced not long afterward,
and we i^ay therefore assign to the
body an a^e of 1140 years, and to the <
head about 300 years.
Buddha is represented seated crosslegged
on a dais, which is of bronze
and represents the cal^a of a lotus.
The figure is fifty-three and a half feet
high, the face is sixteen feet long and
nine and a half wide, while 966 curls
adorn the head, around which is a halo
seventy-eight feet in diameter, on which
are images eight feet in length. A roof
protects the image, and a staging is
erected to assist visitors in examining
it. The casting is said to have been
attempted seven times before it was accomplished,
and 3,000 tons of charcoal
were u<ed in the operation. The whole
is said to weigh 450 tons, and the alloy
is composed of 500 pounds of gold",
1,954 pounds of mercnry, 16,827 pounds
of tin, and 9S6,0S0 pounds of copper.
The body of the image, and all the
most ancient part of the lotus flowers
on which it is seated, are apparently
formed of plates of bronze ten inches
by twelve, soldered together, except
the modern parts, which are much
larger castings. A peculiar method of
?? ~L?o^c\r\f n/3
CUHbirUCtlUU JLS daiu ivuarg UMV^/bw
namely, of gradually building up the
walls of the mold as the lower part oi
the casting cooled, instead of constructing
the whole mold first, and then
making the casting in a single piece.
The various temple bells, some of which
are of great size, are remarkable for the
sweetness and mellowness of their tones,
which contrast greatly with the harsh,
clanging sounds of European bells.
They are struck on the outside by huge
pine beams 'which are suspended by
strong ropes.
The postal money order business of
the New York postoffice for the first
quarter of 1882 shows an increase of
25,020 orders and $178,333.78 in amount
over the corresponding quarter of 1881.
PRECIOUS STONES.
The Business in Diamonds? Diamond ('nt
ting:?Value ol Brilliants.
The custom-house people are uneasj
over the undoubted fact that a greai
many precious stones are smuggled intc
this port from Europe. It is compar
atively easy to conceal them, and thj
ten per cent, duty exacted by the gov
ernment makes it hard for many morally
weak individuals to resist the temptatior
to smuggle. The government officers
have been aware of the evil for a long
time, and have been doing their best to
stop it, but the great disparity between
the volume of trade in precious stones
and the amount of She goods declared
at ths various custom-houses by importers
shows that the government is
defrauded, of a large amount of revenue.
The passion for all 'sorts of fashionable
gems is rapidly increasing in this
country. The price asked for them is
keeping pace with the demand, the
average increase in cost 'within the past
firm vaara fioinc f rnr?vitm .in f rc-Ant v-firA
per cent. The discovery of the African
diamond mines some six years ago
for a while rednced the price of diamonds,
but the rapid growth of demand,
tin he United States chiefly, has restored
the equilibrium, of . the market.
The trade are new as'nng ten to fifteen
per cent, more for d^z^onds than was
asked fifteen montE^g?.--JSase. York
dealers in gems have-iad the most prosperous
business of tiheir lives within
the past year and a half. It is a common
thing in New York society to see
$10,000 to $20,000 in diamonds on a
lady's person. At the fashionable en^^
U ill
WrtetlJU men to uu 1U.UiAaj jjiiai, wx au uixe?
balls and garden parties at the watering
places in swumer, one may literally see
bushels of diamonds. Nearly every
woman has big solitaires in rings or
ear-rings. The large solitaire diainond
is not preferred to the clnster. The
gentlemen wear few diamonds, and they
are likely to be mistaken for gamblers
if they wear solitaires. They wear
rings and stnds of fancy stones, however,
and, while ten years ago they were
eschewed by American gentlemen of
taste, the ontfit of a man of fashion now
is not perfect wiiihont them. Sapphires,
rnbies, the amethyst, topaz, the emerald,
cat's-eyes and the aqna marine
are the stones in most demand for
gentlemen's wear.
In the year 1881 gems to the value of
S8,332,511 passed through the oustom
house, which was nearly four times the
value of those imported in 1871. Dealers
say that ail the more valuable stones
are now selling at the rate of ek to one
as compared with B71. New York is
already one of the greatest markets for
gems in the world. Many people here
wear uxamyiiua w.uu, uuviuguiuuiuyo,
in the same 3ocial and financial position,
would not think of such a thing. The
briskness of the New York market is
naturally centering here all the industries
connected vith preparing the gems
for the retail trade. Diamonds are now
largely imported in their natural state.
Ct is only six years since the first
3iamond-cutter who was proficient in
[lis business began work here. Now
there are quite a namber of these skillsd
workmen in New York, and dealers
assert that their wo$?~i?superip? to that
af either the Datch^ French, fjreek or
English cutters and polishers. ' In proof
of this rather renfarkable statement,
they say that European dealers have recently
sept diamonds in the rough to
lv j? a- i?' jj j rrtu
country 1>U UCU CWCU. JLLLCJ unim
that a good many .Karopean-cut stonegj
ire cui in a carelceLTnarnei*, and do not
jompare favorably^ with the work of
American workmen in polish and brilliancy.
It takes at least four years to
learn the art of diamond-cutting. The
liamonds are found in alluvial deposits,
md are extracted by washing. Two of
;hem are rubbed together until they re
leive a shape in the rough. They are
inished by grinding on a revolving disk
Df steel, which is covered with oil and
Jiamond dnst. Most diamonds are cut
in the shape of brilliants, and some in
;he fo:rm of a rose, having a flat bottom
md an upper snrface of tiny facets, and
ending in a point. A first-class workman
con cut and polish about five diamonds
a week, and his wages range
from 840 to $75. The great secret of
;he tride lies in the knowledge of the
jrade of stones and now to cut tnem to
make them commercially most valuable,
[t is the easiest thing in the world for a
workman to rain a stone. A flaw or a
3cratch across its face deteriorates its
ralne fifty per ceDt.
Perfect brilliants of the first water are
now selling in this market: One-half
2arat diamonds, $175; one c^raf, 8550;
;wo carats, ?800. Diamonds of a large
iize bring whatever can be obtained
[rom the purchaser, as no fired price is
stated. When a diamond is over five or
six carats it is not very salable. An
importer in John street has had two
liamonds, each twenty carats, in the
market for years, and has been nnable
to sell them. The largest gem ever cut
in this city was a forty carat diamond.
It was off color, however, and was
bought by a gambler. Solitaire earrings,
two carats, are worth from $1,200
to 81,500, are large enough to produce
a striking effect, and many very wealthy
people prefer them to large diamonds,
which they think look clumsy. The
largest and most valuable diamond in
America is said to be owned by a Maiden
Lane dealer. It is valued at 860,000,
f4"TT_^/tovafc ia /tailed
V>Ci^UO XXkVJ-J-k ? W VA?*MUWj VUUWM *MV
Pearl cf India," and is described as a
pure white, cushion-shaped, double-cut
brilliant.
Merchants [here claim that the numerous
imitation diamonds have never
materially injured their business. The
bogus stones are only passable imitations
under the glare of gas. Sunlight
readily exposes their real character. Ox
course the white translucent stone, free
from flaw and perfectly cut, is the most
valuable. Yellow, brown and jet-black
diamonds are readily found in the
market, but pink diamonds are rare.?
r VTaw* "VT A*
I WOW xuin. JU^'UTOA.
Amole-A Plant that Yields Soap.
These caoti grow on the American
continent from Monnt Shasta on the
north to a similar latitude in South
America, and from the Pacific coast to
east of the Bio Grande, through New
Mexico, and western Toxas.
The flower stalks are destitute of
leaves but are plentifully supplied
with branches about eighteen inches
long, from which flowers of white and
pellow flnlrvrft are snsnended in the
flowering season. The bulbous root is
from one to six inches in diameter and
from six to eighteen inches long.
A saponaceous juice is expressed from
the root and the fibre of the leaves is
heckled for the manufacture of mattresses,
cushions, and chair seats. The
vegetable soap extracted from the root
has been used by the Indians, Mexicans,
and otuera for many years as a hair
wash, and exceeds in purity our manufacture
from animal substances.
The preservative qualities of the soap
are well known, and its use gives the
hair a fine natural glow, preventing
decay of the hair and entirely eradicatofV>flr
4rv>r\riT?ifinfl "fTiO
lLlg UiXJLlU.X UU. ua vvuw* v* ?mv
scalp.
C it tie eat the leaves in the spring as
a pnrgative. And cut into bits and
thrown on water where fish abound, the
effect is stupefaction of the fish, when
they can be easily taken.
The price among the Indians and
Mexicans, who sell it in Tucson, is five
cents for a bunch of two stalks interlaced
(mancuerna).
For cleaning flannels the aniole is
found vastly superior. It may be hoped
that the manufacture and preparation oi
amole may become one of the industrial
I pursuits of the age.?Tucson Citizen.
The YFonderlul Damascus Blade.
Great discoveries and improvements
have been made in the mannfactnre of
7 steel, bnt it is qnite remarkable, says a
I writer in the American Machinist, that
, no country has prodnced an article equal
. to the Damascus blades. These blades
s are eo myths, as many suppose. Many
. i ux iLLeni eixsij, iiiyuij m iu?
, hands of descendants of Saracen chiefs
! and Esstern princes in European coli
lections. The peculiarity of the Damas.
cus weapon is not only its beantifnl sur|
face, showing myriads of waving zigzag
lines running through the metaJ,
J but the temper and elasticity of the
steel surpasses all other kinds, combining
a sharpness of edge with such elasticity
as no modern art can equal. The
point of the sword can be bent to reach
the hilt and then spring back to a straight
line, and the same sword would cut
through an ordinary weapon without injuring
its edge, or sever a silk scarf
thrown in the air. All investigations
seem to prove that the Arabs produced
their finely tempered Damascns swords
by nsing two steels of different carbonization,
mixing them in the most intimate
manner and twisting them in fantastic
ways, bnt observing method in
their fancy. Nicola Milonas, in trying
to discover the process of the Konrdes
in the manufacture of their sword
blades, observed, first, that tho manufactories
in which these blades were
made were situated at the declivity of
the mountains, near cascades, the water
of which, falling from rock to rock, arrived
in a limpid state in the reservoirs
constructed for its reception, and in
which the blades are tempered. The
reservoirs are tnemseives piacea in situations
where the air i3 very pure.
These conditions of purity of air and
water are considered necessary for the
success of the operation. Second, iron
of the purest quality was selected and
submitted to a very high temperature.
The first tempering is begun when the
iron is at white heat; the fuel used is
placed on each side of it, and when redhot
the iron is covered as quickly as possible
with fatty and oily matter, paste
made from bones, wax, etc. This operationtends
according to the manufacturer,
to render the blade flexible. The second
^ ? ?? * ? a/3 a ym A *mi/\
bempeiruig is pcxxvimcu uj oauu pucess,
with these differences. The heated
iron, after having thrown off considerable
quantities of sparks, and having
been exposed, is covered with a paste
composed of powdeied bones and purified
mutton suet. The third tempering
is effected bj placing the metal in such
a manner that it may be seized by a man
on horseback, who rides at full gallop,
in order that the blade, which he keeps
in an elevated position, may receive the
imrvrpssinn r.f thfi air. The fuelused is
anthracite and turf. In order to obtain
favorable results it is necessary to use
fael entirely free from sulphur, and to
combine as much as possible animal,
vegetable and mineral substances. Imitations
resembling the genuine Damascus
blades, but far inferior to them in
quality, are manufactured at Sheffield,
; Solingen, Germany, and Fiskilstuna,
I Sweden. These productions have little
to recommend them except their name.
Flowers in Ancient Tombs.
* ? ? .3 _ JT 1.1.
JtUgyptoiogy nas iurnisnea aamirauie
matter for the romance-maker, but in
i the late discoveries near Thebes there
is material which might wake up any
L one's dormant poetry. Covering the
grim mammies, cured with bitumen,
swathed i#.eerements, had been placed
a wreath.of fo'^re. The white and
blue lutus had been ' gathered, and
mingled with them there was a profusion
of small delicate blossoms, yellow,
red, and white tinted, all garlanded and
interwoven. The death's heads peered
out from amid the bloom of a past age,
Three thousand years had gone since
they had robbed death of its terrors,
and still these fragile flowers had neither
lost color or shape. Putting aside
the verses, the sonnets, which these
flowers might inspire, modern science
- - - a _M t il
steps m ana siiencea iuj: tu? xiuu^o uuo
sounds of the lyre. What are these
flowers ? asks the botanist. With magnifying
glass each petal, stamen, and
leaf is examined. Dr. Schweinfurth
is studying these tender relics, eager to
diecover their kind and species- Never
was botanist placed face to face with
such treasures. Herbariums are frail,
fragile, brittle things. The oldest collections
known are only of the seventeenth
century, and then there are but
+ <->> +J-1T-/00 n( +Vi/5?n in TrnrlrL
Here are floral treasures of 300 B. C.,
and they are as fresh as if culled but
yesterday. Three or four are at once
claased, but here is one which has disappeared
entirely from the flower beds
of this earth, and there is another
found only to-day in the furthest Abyssinia.
Had Linn sens only been alive,
how he would have reveled as he botanized
over this field of mummies
Packed away with the mortal remains of
Queen Isimkheb were various kinds of
fruits. Here are sugared dates, almost
as fresh as when plucked from the tree.
But more than this, as if QaeeD Isimkheb
had really broken her fast, here are
teeth marks in the fruit, and scoopings
out evidently made with spoons. De
Foe, in his "Robison Crusoe," made his
hero start with amazement when on the
shore of his island he saw for the first
time the footprints of another man.
When Mariette Bey in his necropolis
01 jipis, came across we ijupreoaiuua ui
toes and heels in the sands, which the
last of the old Egyptian priests had
left, the explorer's emotions were indescribable
Here with thes9 Theban
mummies we bridge over thousands of
years, and past eons are at one and the
same time both far and near to us.
The Impossible GirL
He offered her a handsome , opal
ring.
"Excuse me," she said, while a blush
crept over her velvety cheeK; ''opals
are unlucky."
Then he fished a package of carameis
ont of his pocket and attempted to present
it to her.
"I never tonch them," she murmured,
languidly, "as they destroy the teeth
und draw the filling out. My mother
* v i -.il. 2l_ _
got some oetween ner teeiu me uma
day, and her jaws were held together so
tight for two hours that she couldn't
talk."
"You must have had quiet in the
house."
' Sir!"
"I say you must have had a riot in
the house. I mean that your mother
must have been so provoked that she
couldn't preserve her usaal state of
beautiful serenity, but was obliged to
give way to her feelings, in spite of her
heroic efforts to appear calm. Would
you like to go to the minstrels tonight?"
"No, I thank yon," she whispered,
feelinglv, "I am always saddened by
such woeful dreams as 'Camille,' 'Hamlet,'
and 'Miss Multon'; aud the last
time I was at the minstrels, I saw how
those pla/s could be made more heartrending
with the jokes of the minstrels
worked into them."
He then invited her to take a walk,
and partake of ice cream and other luxuries
calculated to thrill the feminine
mind Tvith ectasy. But she refused
each and all of them. And the young
man danced around with his pocketbook
in his hand, and thought what expense
men would be eared if all girls
were like this one. And he gang : "I
i have found me the wife of the future;
I've found the Impossible girl."
: Then he woke up and ascertained
1 that he had been dreaming. The Impossible
girl had yet to be discovered.
Fables of Zambri.
A famishing traveler, who had run
down a salamander, made a fire and
laid him npon the hot coals to cook.
Wearied with the pursuit which had
preceded his capture, the animal at
once composed himself and fell into a
refreshing sleep, At the end of half an
hour the man stirred him with a stick,
remarking :
' 3 1 J. Ll
"I say i wase up ana Degxn wasting,
will you ? How long do yon mean to
keep dinner waiting, eh ? "
"Oh, I beg yon will not wait for me,"
was the yawning reply. "If yon are
going to stand npon ceremony, everything
will get cold. I wish, by the
way, yen wonld pnt on some more fnel;
I think we shall have snow."
"Yes," said the man, "the weather is
like yonrself?raw, and exasperatingly
cool."
A man /^art-Tino> ?. of mm nn s.
high ladder, propped against a wall,
had nearly reached the top, when a
powerful hog passing that way leaned
against the bottom to scratch its hide.
"I wish," said the man, speaking
down the ladder, "yon would make that
operation as brief as possible ; and
when I come down I will reward you by
rearing a fresh ladder especially foa
you."
"This one is quite good enough for a
hog," wa?> i he reply; "but I am curious
to know if you will keep your promise,
so I'll just amuse myself until yon
come down."
And taking the bottom lung in his :
mouth, he moved off, away from the
wall.
THE OWL, THE COCK A2vD THE WEAZEL. !
"Awful dark?isn't it?" said an owl
one night, looking in upon th9 roosting j
hens in a poultry house. "Don't see ]
how I am to find my way back to my ;
hollow tree." <
"There's no necessity," replied the 1
cock; yon can roost there alongside the 1
door and go home in the morning." J
"Thanks," said the owl, chuckling at 3
the fool's simplicity, and, having plenty
of time to indulge his facetious hu- ]
mor, he gravely installed himself upon 1
the perch indicated, and, shutting his ]
eyes, counterfeited a profound slumber. 3
He was aroused soon after by a sharp <
constriction of the throat.
"I omitted to tell yon," ssid the cock, <
"that the seat yon happen by the mereest
chance to occupy is a contested one,
and has been fruitfal of hens to this
vexations weazel. I don't know how
often I have been partially widowed by
the sneaking villain."
Foi* obvious reasons there was no aud-s
ible reply.
THE MAN AM) THE GOOSE.
A man was plucking a live goose,
when his victim addressed him thus:
"Suppose you were a goose, do you t
think 'you would relish this sort of ?
tiling?" ?
' Well, suppose I were," answered the ?
man, "do you think you would like to
pluck me?" _ i
"inaeea 1 wouid," was me empnauc,
natural, but injudicious rep]y.
"Just so," concluded her tormentor;
"that's the way I feel about the
matter."
A Talk About Toast.
Mrs. E. P. Ewing, in a lecture on
cookery at Dearborn Seminary, said
that toasting effectually destroyed yeast
germs in bread, and converted the insoluble
starch into a soluble substance
resembling gum, and which chemists
called dextrine, so that toasted bread
was incapable of fermenting and pro- s
ducing flatulence, or becoming sour on c
1.1.. -J. 1. T> J J. J
llitf btuiiiuuu. Draau tuaatou iu. j
agreed better with a weak stomach than c
any other bread. Indeed, a sensitive j
stomach would frequently digest toast r
when it wonld digest no other article of i
food. Hence toast, which was in general c
nse as a diet for invalids, could be r
safely ana judiciously recommended for
them at all times; and the loose talk \
indulged in by some self-styled teachers t
of physiology about the extreme un- 6
healthfulness of toast, especially when r
buttered, only gave empnasis to me t
fact that toasting bad bread and melting a
bad butter did not improve the quality t
of either, or render them less indigesti- ^
ble or nnwholesome than when in their c
original un regenerate condition. Meeting
or boiling inferior butter wonld not t
make it proper food for a hnman r
stomach, and the most skilled maniptt- ]
lation would net convert sour, half j
baked bread into nutritions, palatable g
toast. The latter held so important a
place among foods that every one should g
know how to make it properly. Yet one of i
the best American authorities on culi- r
nary matters has said that only about ^
one in ten thousand know how to make c
toast, and the lecturer indorsed tne
statement so far as to assert that bad g
toast was the rule and good toast the j
exception.
In making toast three directions j
should be observed: Cat the bread, v
which shonld be somewhat stale, in
even slices, abont half an inch in thickness.
If the bread is fresh, dry them ]
slightly. Hold each slice a sufficient ^
distance*from the fire, which should be ?
of clear, bright coals, to keep it from j
burning, and let it brown evenly. For t
this purpose a wire broiler or a toasting T
* ' 5 rnr a. *
lorn call D6 Tisea. VYiien me sunauo ui j
one side becomes a rich, golden color,
turn and heat the other side in a similar
manner, until the slice is perfectly
toasted. Serve the moment it is done
in a warm plate, dry or buttered, and it
will tempt the appetite of either invalid
or epicnre. And the average individual,
said Mrs. Ewing, might indulge occal
sionally with impnnity in a broiled quaior
a Boston stew, served on toast after
this method, without the least fear of
future regret or discomfort
A Bishop's Mistake.
Hn a rafont. rxvftqfnn "Rishon Gilmonr
was preaching in the Cincinnati cathedral.
It appears that, like some other
preachers, he is in the habit of pounding
while expounding the gospel. Thepul- 1
pit at the cathedral is situated near the <
center of the auditorium, against a large i
pillar, and the altar is some distance <
away. Seated at the north side of the <
altar were Bishop Elder and others, <
and on account of the pillar they could i
not command a view of the pulpit of i
Bishop Gilmour. At about the middle i
if his sermon Bishop Gilmour came tc 1
a forcible passage, and hammered vig- i
cronsly oil the pulpit, creating a lond '
noise, and kept it up ior nearly a min- ]
nte. "Stop that noise," cried Bishop 1
Elder, rising to his feet, and astonishing
the congregation, who were at a loss to '
know what to make of the unusual pro
ceeding. Bishop Gilmour kept on the ]
even tenor of his way. "I demand^that ;
there be silence," eaid Bibhop Elder.
This bronght the thumping emphasis '
to an end, and the astonished bishop <
turned and lacea tne airar. x>isaop Elder
now discovered his part of the
mistake and said: "I beg your pardon,
sir; I thought it was someone in the' :
congregation creating the disturbance."
There were no other interruptions.
How Did He Know.
"Please, sir, give a few cents to a
poor blind man?''
"Are you entirely blind?"
"Yes, sir."
' Ll ' * J?
"iiaven c aayimng zor yuu,
"I snppose you think because you
wear tight pants, and have got yonr
hair parted in the rricH.le, yon are somebody.
Yon look like that man who was
hnng in Washington county last week;
you long-legged, red-headed, freckledface
galoot."?[Texas Sittings.
Forty Chinamen make watches in San
Francisco.
GILDED STARVATION.
Gorzeous Poverty in Manhattan Mansions?
How Many Families Starve and Keep a
Carriage.
The other morning, when a New York
reporter went into the butcher shop on
Third avenue, immediately around the
corner from his boarding house, to deliver
a pathetic message from his sick
landlady, he met a splendidly costumed
female coming cut as ne was going in.
Turning around naturally to follow her
movements, and still farther to feast
his eyes, he saw her step into a carriage
at the curb stone, which was speedily
whisked away by a pair of spirited and
prancing horses.
The well-groomed horses, with their
shining harness; the black-tiled, greencoated,
silver-buttoned and white-gloved
coachman; the highly-polished carriage,
with its gleaming lamps and windows;
the whole equipage, in truth, flashing in
the morning sunlight, seemed like a
splendid vision from the world of
dreams. When it had sparkled and
shimmered out of sight, and was lost in
3
tlXO UIUVYU vl VCli-l^ACC, UHO ID"
porter turned again into the butchershop.
As he did so, the butcher brought a
hunk of meat from one of the hooks,
and flung it on the great round block
at the end of his counter. Seizing a
pair of meat-axes, he began hacking
away to make mince-meat thereof in an
unmistakable spiteful and vicious fashion.
"That is what I call gorgeous poverty,"
looking up and nodding to the
reporter.
The butcher, it may be remarked, is
an old school-fellow, who had the usual
presidential aspirations daring his early
years; but developing consumptive tendencies,
had sought a corrective in his
father's business. He had succeeded to
the store at his father's death. He had
found the corrective. His weight is
not less than two hundred pounds.
"See," he said, turning suddenly and
pointing theatrically to four small mutton-chops
and a modest and retiring
piece of corned-beef on the counter behind
him. "That is what Mrs. Magniloquent
Montrose has just purchased.
"I should no', be so indignant," he
continued, laughing suddenly, "if these
oeonle would take their purchases with
;hem. They always want them sent
some. Now, this corned-beef and these
nntton-chops will make two parcels
which my boy conld almost put into his
rest pockets. He takes them to a magiificent
four-storied, brown-stone mansion
on Madison avenue. The mutton;hops
are for the family dinner, the
:orned-beef is for the servants. There
s twenty-three eents' worth. She paid
iwenty-three cents out of a beautiful
leal-skin pocket-book, lined with blue
(ilk. When she paid me I do not thint
ihe had twenty-three cents left in it."
"Then she pays cash," suggested the
eporter.
"Because I won't give he? credit,
ler husband is a cashier in a large bank
lown town. I suppose that he has a
landsome salary. But his big house,
lis expensively dressed wife and daughers,
his carriage and his splendid coachnan,
his family's trip to Europe or Saritoga
in the summer time absorb everyhing.
He has little or no money to
nvest in bread and butter and meat. If
; should let my bill run up the money
xamU />?1 ATfAO UAAfo on/1
VJLUU 1UJL UUIUICdO) * COj wvw ?uu
>ther full-dress paraphernalia. Then
7hen Magniloquent Montrose absconds,
is he probably will, why I would be two
>r three hundred dollars out of pocket.
"Occasionally the Montroses give a
linner party, after living at other peo)le's
dinner parties for two or three
nonth's, and starving genteely in the
ntervals. Then I sell them a nice lot
>f meat, and am very careful to tret my
noney for it.
"Oh, yes, it is about the same thing
fith the other tradesmen. Mrs. Mon- :
rnsA dashes iro to the corner arrocerv 1
tore in her carriage and orders a small :
neasure of potatoes and a bar of soap
o be sent home, and grandly rides away
igain. Yon may see her servants on
he avenue almost any morning on her
ray to the baker's to bny and pay for
>ne loaf of bread.
'Of course, the servants do not like
his sort of thing. They usually stay a
nonth, Ret their month's wages and go.
'f the servant can't stand it a month and
* * - a iL
eaves bet ore tne ena 01 it, sne aoes not
;et any wages.
A middle-aged female entered the
hop at this moment. She was dressed
n shabby black. She carried a smail <
narket-basket. She began inspecting
'ery earnestly a ronnd of beef that lay
in the counter.
'It is not quite far enough in,"'She
aid at length; "but you may cut me a
jretty thick slice off there."
The butcher cut off the slice, wrapped
t up and gave it to the customer, who
vent away.
"You trust her?"
"That's Miss Smith, a very different
rind from Mrs. Montrose. She gets the
rery best porter-house steak in the shop,
she waits until the cut is just right. It
t is not far enough in or verges toward
he sirloin, she won't have it. And she
jays promptly every week. "Why, she
tnd her cat consume more good meat
;han all the Montrose family?father,
nother and two daughters?do together.
3he is an old maid, a dress-maker. She
? x 41%^
ives in tae tuxra siory nuuu iuuuj n> uuc
loase over the wap. Sometimes she
roes out of town to a country mansion
o do a week's work. Sbe always comes
sack starved or dyspeptic, or both?at
.east she says so.
"I tell yon," concluded the butcher,
lourishing the knife wherewith he had
ust cut into the porter-house steak,
;,nnp +V?o ponplo iii fhia
snow how the other half lives."
The Import of Potatoes.
Potatoes from Scotland, cabbage from
Holland, and butter from Denmark and
3ermanj. How rapidly a scarcity in
my part of the world starts shipments.
Commerce is always vigilant, and the
Irought in America gives a market to
iistaut producers. The Scotch potato
is well liked by many of our consumers,
md the imports average 75,000 bushels
i month. They pay fifteen cents a
bushel duty, but this, as well as freight
ind commission, is met by the present
high market. A Scotch vegetable house
has been started here, with the expec
tation that this traffic will be permanent,
ft is probable, however, that an immense
breadth of potatoes will be
planted this season, and this will bring
prices down to their former mark. A j
year ago potatoes were so dnll that it
hardly paid to send them here, and now '
they are so dear that we are glad to re- j
ceive them from Scotland. Thus one |
extreme is followed by another. New !
York consumes 10,000 "bush-Is of pota- j
toes every day, and hence the early crop
from Florida and Sonth Carolina is
aonarir Pnt&to SDeC
aivrojo _A_ - ulators
have made money, but only at
the expense of suffering among the
poor. There are thousands here who j
are almost famished, and even the wellpaid
working classes are pinched. How
welcome to the city will be a resumption
of old fashioned prices at the
potato market.?[New York Letter.
Daring the floods in the West and
South recently, a huge catfish was
caught in the parlor of the Belmont
Hotel, at Columbus, Ky., where it had
been landed by the water that overflowed
the town.
There are 4,698 vessels on the North
American lakes.
^ * - M
The Bonnd Feet of Chinese Women.
Iron shoes are neither nsed nor known
in China. The method is simply to
use a strong muslin bandage. I have
never heard of the bindings being put
/vr> a nndoj raorc r\f o ta
I think they oftener wait until she is
two or three yeais older. In one cf
the schools that I had all the girls
were in the first year of binding. The
youngest was six years old and the
eldest eight. Of course, the later the
binding is begun the greater the pain.
The bandage of muslin usually is
tHSee or four feet long and from five
to seven inches wide. They commence
at the middle of its lengthy passing it
under the toes and crossing the two
halves over the top, pulling each part
tightly, and so on over and under until
the foot is covered very tightly. A3
tbe bandage approaches tne neei a
fold is thrown around it, with a poll
forward toward the toes, to shorten tho ?foot.
The pulling forward of the heel
in time forces the instep up in a most
painful and ugly manner, and just here
they often find the greatest trouble in
this cruel cu^om, for the pressure ia
sometimes so great upon the instep
that the skin bursts, inflammation and
ulceration sets in, and the child may
die. I have heard of but few fetal
cases, however, though there might be :
i many and we not know of them. V
. The,. first, -jeax the foot i?.s^mply,- . :*1?~
bandaged tightly, td suppress * the
growth. The second jear all the.small
toes are folded down tinder the ioot,
leaving only the larger toes in natural ' i
position. The pulling of the heel forward
and forcing the instep up, has
made a little hollow under the foot-, .
where the poor folded down toes find a
place. I am told that the tight bandaging
stops the growth of the nails, so
that they do not arive trouble. The
same sort of bandage is used, and the
binding done as in the first year, only
this time from added torture, from the
unnatural position of the toes. This
process of binding is kept up for jears^
from eight to eleven, and even longer '-p
in some cases before the greatly desired
tiny shoe worn at Funchau and
farther south can be put on. This
shoe measures from two and one-half to
three inches in length, and a babe a
week old of medium size cannot wear
it. Of course, all this bandaging is accompanied
with the greatest pain.
I have many times seen these little
victims of custom kicking and scream- ~.>|3j
mg while the mother or some one else
was binding up the poor little feet. And
yet so strong is the admiration for such
feet and so great the respect for those
who have them that little girls often
ask to have their feet bound, and bravely
try to suppress the cry of pain; but
the larger number are not of such
heroic spirit, and rebel vigorously under
the torture, sometimes going aside
and slyly loosening the bandages for a
little relief to the tortured foot,
only to be punished and to have the
bandages again tightened. As the
the process goes on the muscles shrink
away, the bones are bent or broken,
and finally the foot looks like nothing
Tinman Vint, fa an nnBirrlif-.lv hrtnr.ll nf
bones, covered with a dry, yellow-looking
skin, with just circulation enough
to preserve life. There would seem to
be real destruction of muscle, from the
fact that the feet become very offensive
during a part of the time. Frequent
bathing in hot water is resorted to, and,
if the skin breaks and sores appear,
certain remedies are used.
A medical friend of mine had an
elaborate scroll presented to him by the
father of a girl whose ulcerated feet he
had cured. The inscrip&ea-on the
scroll eulogized him as a great and
skillful physician. When the feet have
been reduced to the desired size and
the bandages need no longer be used to
lessen them, they must still always be
w.->rn cc give strength and firmness to . rM
the crushed feet. I examined carefully
onf. pair of such feet (I could never bring
myself to look at a second pair.) The
woman was thirty years old and
weighed aboat 115 pounds. She
was quite unwilling at first to show
me her feet uncovered. They are generally
loth to do this, for tiiey know
TTAVT7 TTTfil 1 +V?A OVA TWAcf TITi
* cxj ncu vunu uuc Ate u oig iiiwou MMsightly.
Very willing and proud are
they to exhibit then encased in the exquisitely
embroidered tiny satin shoe,
but do not like to remove the covering
and show the hideous deformity within.
The woman whose feet I saw told me
that hers were bound eleven years before
they became " dead feet"?that is,
ceased to pain her; but that even yet,
if she stood long, walked much, or her
feet became heated, or she
wore new shoes, they often
gave her much pain. The Hfctle toes
were pressed into the hollow under the
foot, the heel was lengthened considerably,
and she passed the large toe and
heel toward each other under the foot,
so that they touched- My heart was sick
as I looked at this ruin of God's handiwork
and thought of the thousands
enduring that torture at that moment.
TVme/* ova T/wl IQ^TT
"golden lilie3" of South Cbiua, and
greatly do they wonder at our fullgrown
feet.?Independent.
Thread and Needle Tree.
The luxury of a thread and needle
tree! Who can estimate the comfort of
such helpfulness at one's very deor ?
Fancy the delight of matron or maiden
dwelling under such overshadowing I
Odd as it may seem to us, there is
upon Mexican plains just such a forest
growth. Imagine a " sewing-bee" gatnered
under snch fair foliage ! No need
of spools forever rolling hither and
thither; no call for dainty reels compactly
wound with snowy thread. Is .. ^
there a seam ready for busy fingers or
an appealing rent, just step outside
the door of the much favored Mexican
house-mother, lay your hand upon a
slender thorn needle pushing itself
persuasively from the tip of a dark green
leaf, draw it carefully from its deli
cate sheath, slowly, slowly unwinding
with your hand the thread, a strong
well-rounded fiber, already attached to .
the neeile, and oh! so tenderly folded
away by Mother Nature as to hold
within itself possibilities of a long Is
stretch of the cord.
Travelers are enthusiastic over the
resources of the masruoy tree: and of
its beauty no less, celling us of "clustering
pyramids of flowers towering
above dark coronals of leaves."
The roots well prepared are a most
savory dish; with its leaves may be
a "thatehincr fit for a oueen,''
and no prettier sisht can b3 met than
the cottages of Mexican peasants so
exquisitely crowned. The rich leaves
also afford material for paper, and from
the juices is distilled a favorite barer- " i
age. From its heavier fibers the natives
manufacture strong cords and coarse
strong !clotb. No wonder the maguey
tree of tropical climes has attained
world-wide fame I?Harper's Bazar.
Mr. Wheeler's Plow.
Mr. H. C. Wheeler, who owns a farm
of 6,200 acres adjoining the village of
Odebolt, la. j has tried all kinds of
steam plows and found them wanting,
but he has at last himself devised a
machine which he thinks will prove
practical. In action it combines the
stationary and traction principles. The
engine is run ahead 500 feec and then
bv a cable draws up to itself ten plows
inline, and this operation is repeated
as often as may be necessary. ^
The American Bible society refuses
to aid in sending out a certain Burmese -jllS
Bible, because the word "baptize" is zMstm
translated "immerse.'*