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WEEKLY EDITION. WIKNSBOKO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBEE 20, 1882. ESTABLISHED IN 1844. Yanishcd Honrs. "Where are they gone, those dear dead days, J Those sweet past days of long ago, / "Whose ghosts go floating to and fro "When erening leads us through her maze? "Where are they gone? Ah! who can tell? "Who weave once more that long pass 1 L spell? fe They did exk: when we were yonng; IV a *jl nv><^ V?n e t rf?i? uici uur mo wiui swcu^iu cwu wuov , i We deemed all things were pure and just, Nor knew life had a double tongue. We lightly sang a happy song, Nor dreamed our way could e'er be wrong. And then all changed: as life went by The friend deceived, or bitter death Smiled as he drank our dear one's breath, ! And would not let us also die. Day followe^lay; as on they went "Each took some gift that life had sent. j Tet it was ours, that perfect past: "We did have days that knew not pain; We once had friends death had not ta'en And flowers and songs that oould not last Were ours in that most blessed time, When earth seemed heaven's enchantod clime. And so I think, when lights burn low And all the house is fast asleep, From oat a silence vast and deep Those <S<ear dead days vre -worshiped so -Braathe on us from their hidden store "Tfieli long lost peace, their faith once 1 more. God keep those dear old times; ah, me! Beyond onr vision they may rest Till on some perfect day and blest One? more those dear dead days 'will ba. For Death, who took all, may restore The past we loved to ns once more. A STOSY OP VENICE. Some twelve years ago I was staying in Venice. It had been the dream of my boyhood to visit the city, and the scenes of those striking events in history and romance I had read so often. The Doge's palace and the church of St. Mark's had been familiar^ to me from my earliest recollections, from 'paintings and pictures to be found everywhere; and now I saw the j glorious reality ; though perhaps at i first I was rather disappointed, because J it did not quite reach the height of my j imagination. To the EngLsh reader espe. .illy Venice must have unutterable charms. For has not Shakespeare invested it with a brighter halo of romance than ; even the brightest page or History could { give it? When we hear the name of Venice a<* we not rather think of the j Venice of Shylock, of -\ntonio, of Othello, than the city of Baxbarossa, of Henry Danclolo, or of Francis Foscari ? On my tirst arrival t went, according! to the custom of Englishmen, to see; ^ everything at once ; and was soon able j to say with truth that I had " stood in I Venice on the Bridge of Sighs." But I soon found out that there was | nothing to be gained by being in such j a hurry; that it was much better to j take things in a quiet sort of way, as 11 had plenty of time to see the place enjoyably. Besides, it is no joke going sight-seeing in summer-time at Venice; the heat is so great that it makes one in a perspiration even, to think of L. moving; ML ... _ the. heat of the sun's..xay?j ' t*egan sensibly to decline, the people f., * came out, and gondolas flitted backward and forward, bearing freights of all kinds; old, stately-looking men and women, with grave, dignified faces, ?? ? ? ? ? <v AI -V?nrr ] ?orl ctarvno/l UlitKLLl^ UilC IULLUV. Liicio h<x\x I^W^^VU out of their frames in the adjoining palaces; laughing,dark-eyedsignorinas, as careless and lighthearted as if the Austrians had never set foot in their city; English people and other foreigners, and now and again the white uniform of an Austrian officer?all intent I , on one object?enjoyment, and feeling; relieved to be once more free from the | rays of the scorching sun, and refreshed ; by the cool deliciousness of a midsum- j mer twilight. Truly the Austrian rule had not been able to extinguish all ffloimw /vF IAV in ptians. chanced Vi JV-.. ~ , 0 though they may be from their ancient renown! I hired a gondola for my own use, and, lying lazily on the cushions j smoking my cigar, made my gondolier j sing to me Italian songs, which he as-! sured me were from Ariosto. As I; could not prove the contrary, I was i bound to believe him, though they i might have been his own words for i ought I knew. Well, one evening I had come out as ! usual, and my gondolier had taken me i down a quiet street leading fros^ the ; Grand canal, but whose name I ^get.' I sat looking at the grand old palaces | each side of me?their beauty more j thac ever apparent in the light of the j . moon, which was just Rising?and i ? - J-- ii..:. A! lOOKing Up tU LUCIA sjuciav iijuuuiio i thought that from just such another, j or perhaps from the same, ^ the pretty | v Jessica might have stolen to her lover;' and I could not help?bemoaning that! the race was extinct, that elopements had gone out of fashion, and that there i was no chance now of meeting pretty : girls bringing their own dower in , '* ready money with them, when my attention was directed to the figure of a woman on the balcony of a house we . were close upon. Directly she saw me % she leant forward a little, threw a let- { * ter into the boat and immediately af terwara aisappeareu. Here was a mystery! The -window j where I had seen her lay in the shadow ! . ^V of the moon, so that I had not been ! able to see what she was like. That j she was young I was almost certain, i for the light had been sufficient for me j to notice that her figure was slight and I small, and of course I imagined that; she must be beautiful I opened the letter by the light of j ' my lantern and found the following | words, " written in choice Italian," and j i in a very neat and pretty hand: j r<?T?rw "VT-rn T rannnt. r-Amc trvm'cht.* ! VAJftV -JXIV JL. VVW*A*VW VV?V ^ 7 , I will meet you at the same hour to-! ? morrow. Come close up to the win-' dow nearest the water; I can descend \ t&jjf easily from thence, an^here is not so much chance of being ^Seeru Provide cloaks, that our figures may be completely disguised. Till then, adieu. "Ahixa." 9REr What was I to make of this? I had no intimate friends in Venice, and j K certainly had no acquaintances to ad-' | dress me like this. I asked my gondolier if he knew the house, but he did . not I told him to go back the same way, in order that 1 might see the figure I again, if it happened to be there; but the house seemed quite deserted; and all I noticed was a man in a gondola, I ?i-.-.v J TTo j YV1UUU p?15>seu ClUSC t/V uimt. liv tracted my attention by the peculiar hat he wore. Hffn l I determined at first to take no notice of the letter; but the love of an adventure, such as this promised to be, was too strong for me; and, besides, vanity whispered, " "Who knows, some one may have fallen in love with you gPSfe - -^unawares!" k Moreover, I was anxious to see if the lady was really pretty?whether she would turn out a real Jessica; so 1 made up my mind to be at the place at ' the appointed time. AS the z&xj day I wag in a fever oi fQp f excitement; I longed tor the evening, : and thought that the sun -would never ' set. As soon as it began to get dark I I stepped into the gondola, and told my man to go the same way as last night. we neared the place, I felt a little : nervous, and even thought once or ; twice of turning back or going in another direction, and that I might only fall into some scrape or trap if I persevered in my intention; but it was too late before I could come to any decision?we had already entered the silent street. As I had been directed in the letter, T i J :J.J i j i a jl nau. pruviucu cioaKS, ana nau enveloped myself in one, completely disguising my person with the help of a slouched wide-awake kind of hat turned down over my eyes. I felt very much like an operatic brigand about to do some deed of darkness. There were more people about than there had been the night before, so I thought it was prudent to paddle ahnnt. Tint, t,n PYfifp attention, am] t.n wait till the coast was pretty clear before taking my boat under the balcony* At last my gondola was about the only one near, so I seized the oppor-: tunity, and told the gondolier to steer it to the appointed window. There, sure enough, was the figure, and as soon as I was close enough, and had made fast our boat the best way I was able, she handed me some packages, which I thought at the time rather' heavy, and followed herself immediately afterward, getting lightly over the low balustrade of the window, and alierhtinor somewhat unexnectedlv. at o O x ' I least to me, into my arms, which were extended for her assistance in getting j down. j As soon as she was in the gondola! she whispered to me to be off at once, before being discovered. My man came to ask what part of the city we would go. Fortunately, 0>efore I could speak, the lady mentioned some place, which, though I had never heard of it before, he seemed to know. She then said to me, somewhat in surprise: " Why, you have changed your gondolier since the last time !" I could do nothing but assent to this, and then held my finger to my 1 mouth to tell her that we had better not talk. She seemed to agree with me; and for -greater secrecy I drew the curtains of the gondola. As I was doing so, and as we were turning the corner of the canal, I noticed that the gondolier I had seen the night before with a man in a peculiar hat passed close to us. I had a very gosd reason not to wish to talk, for I knew perfectly well that if I spoke out loud I should be betrayed directly by my bad pronunciation and bad* Italian. jbut; as we giiaea aiong, ana axiuiih nestled closer to me, I could not help thinking that I was playing the part of a real villain in not discovering my self. Her demeanor and lady-like bearing convinced me entirely that she was not what I toother to be ; and I felt sure that I was 'the cause of some curious mistake, and was passing for somebody else. I made up my mind as soon as we had landed to show myj&lf ic n?y.i.rue colors. v j After some little time the boat sud- j - dfinly stopped^ and-on drawing ; the curtains I found In a part of the city I did not know. We landed at a quay running in yv-P V?micoc irhiVh r*r\ r?AnVif. JLllALLO VJL JUVU^VU, ti **V V?.VW.VW had seen better days. They were very old and some almost in ruins. Carrying the packages before mentioned, I followed Amina into one of the houses, which seemed like a small inn. A man, evidently the landlord, was standing at the door. Directly he saw my companion, he made her a polite bow, aind saying something I did not quite understand led the way upstairs to the first landing. He did not seem surprised to see either her or me, and I kept behind, wondering more and more how it would all end. On the first landing we entered a room, neatly fitted up and cleanly furnished?the last somewhat a novelty in Venice anywhere, and more especially in a place like this we had come to, judging by the look of the citizens outside. There was only one lamp in the fur ther comer of the room, wtucn gave a very subdued light, and I stood by the door, somewhat in the dark. The landlord left the room; but before I i had time to offer my explanations, she threw off her cloak and I saw before me one of the prettiest, dark-eyed signoras I thought I had ever seen. I did not know what to do, and mv confusion was further increased when she said in her native tongue?musical at all times, but on this occasion rendered doubly musical by the voice that spoKe it: "How provoking it was. dearest, that I could not come last night! My father suddenly altered his indention and did not leave till to-day. 1 was so fearful lest he had discovered us." I thought after this that it was high time to show who I was, so I took off my hat, which I had hitherto kept on, and came close to her by the light. She came toward me, suddenly -topped, gave a little scream, and burst jut crying, saying: " I am betrayed ! I am betrayed !" Her scream brought the landlord up, and he looked scarcely less astonished than she had done when she saw me standing before her. "How is this sign or?" he said at length. " What are you doing in this lady's room?" "You yourself saw me come with i her," I replied ; and turning to the lady j I said: ".raraoix me, signora, due j. iear we have both been laboring under a mistake. I received your letter last i night asking me to keep an appoint- | ment. I have done so?somewhat wrongfully and foolishly, perhaps?and I am sincerely sorry if I am the cause ! of bringing you any unhappiness' through my boyish love of romantic adventures. I should have told you of this at first; I commit ted a great error in not doing so; and now if I can! make you any reparation in my power " ?-*-* s\ nr\cl 54" C?Vkoll " ; ' ill\ JLiiC <li.HA AC OillUJ. UVUV. She looked at me with surprise, and i mailing through her tears, replied : "You are not so much to blame as I am ; it is I who am foolish in mistaking you for my ljusband." " Your husband!" I cried. " Yes," the lady continued. " Mine :s a story that does not take long to j i?*lL It is the old, old tale. My father j ic unrl mv InvAr i<? nnnr and fore it was a crime for him to think of making me his wife. I thought differently, however, and some few months ago was secretly married to him. I I hoped that time and circumstances"? here she slightly blushed?" would have some effect in softening my father's determination; but when i mentioned to him my husband's name 1 the other night, he forbade me to think : of him any more. Seeing that all my ! efforts were of no avail I determined to leave my father's house and Venice, : rather than lead a life that was insupportable to me. I availed myself of ; the opportunity of my father's being ; away from home for a week to put my i design into execution. Last night I had ! fixed for my husband to come and fetch | i me, but unfortunately my father sud| denlv altered his intention, and did not | leave home till this morning. Seeing 1 you pass so close to the window yester- J day evening and look up toward me, I made sure it was my husband's gondo; la. It was too dark to see quite plain ly, : ami I threw the letter to you.. You lrnow Hip r^it "Rvprvfhirior Dflsswl nfF i so naturally to-night that I had not the least suspicion who you were, es;?e| :?'ly as I did not hear your voice out lo^'i. The hat you -wore completely i disgi \1 you, and your beard is the ; same lor and the same form as my i husband's. I must say that I ran not : help thinking that you did not act ; quite fairly in not discovering yourself sooner, jsut wnai s uone can i De undone, and I forgive, if you promise Lot to betray me, and help me, now I am ! unprotected." So saying she extended her hand to me, which, I scarcely need say, I took j most willingly. " Only say what you will have me to do," I said, " and you shall see how glad I shall be to repair my fault." " Well, you must find my husband I for me; here are two places where he is likely to be found," showing me her tablets. I had just taken them in my hand I when the door of the room was sudi denlv oDened. nearlv knocking over the landlord, who had been standing with his back to it all this time, not quite recovered from his astonishment, and a man entered the room whom I : recognized instantly as -the man with i the peculiar cap I had seen pass me in j the canal. I was not left long in doubt who it was, for Amina immediately ran toward him with open arms. But he received her coldly, and asked what all the night's proceedings meant, at the same time looking at me with no very friendly eye. He was told what the reader already knuws, but would not believe it for | some time, till I assured him several j times on my word of honor that it was I true, and that I alone was to blame. He softened by degrees, and at last toir^> Amina to his arms, who was standing sobbing beside him. I wondered, however, he could be jealous of her, she seemed so fond of him, and looked so pretty in tears. I felt myself a great ruffian in havinor h^r so rmifh riistrpss. and made a solemn vow for the future never to have another night adventure such as this. Seeing that I was open with him, and did not hesitate to describe all that took place, he at last extended his hand to me and said he was satisfied and believed I had spoken the truth. | We soon got friendly after this, and 11 asked him how it was that he had followed us to the place where we then were. " I always keep this room," he said, " in* case I might want it at any time; nri.'l had h;id it nrpnarpd for rav wife's reception yesterday evening. She has been here with me once or twice before, and it is in a very secluded and quiet part of the city. 2Cot seeing her at the window last night, I concluded, and I find rightly, that her father had not left the house, and that she had not ?ared the-risk of speaking with -assi?t weiil ug^in UMilgLVbufc ; with the same result; sol came on here to see if any letter or message had been sent to tell me the cause of her nonappearance. On my arrival, to my i great surprise, I was told she had al; ready arrived half an hour before, ac! r>nrrmnrufvJ hv a mvnlipr T frpplv onn fess to you that I was not a little troubled when I heard this u but if I had thought a moment, I must have felt that my jealousy was ill-founded. You must have been a formidable rival, indeed," he continued, laughing, " to have braved the lion in his very ! den." " I then asked him where he intended going, and what he was going to do. He said liis destination was Engj land; that his profession was that of ; an artist, and that he hoped to get a livtrimuuu. uv ma punuii. I told him I should be only too delighted to render him any little service, and gave him my name and address in London, asking him to csill and see me. "And now," I said, "as I am afniid unknown artists do not always thrive at first starting, I hope you will not think that I am intruding too much into your private affairs by offering you the loan of some money for j your present necessities. Amina replied for him. " There is do occasion for that, I thank you," she said. " I have enough there"?pointing to the bags I had carried up?" to last us for some time." Her husband looked rather annoyed and uncomfortable at this. It was evident that she had brought them away from her father's store. lie said +V?of w/vn'M a nrmnr if bliCil l_i.V ?l VU^U UVU LUUVyli %At J^/VUAt^ Vi i V, and that he would send them secretly back as soon as he was able. A sud-. den idea struck me. I offered to take them, and my offer was thankfully accepted. On asking the name of Amina's father, I found, to my great wonder, that it was no other than that of Signor.S , my own banker during my stay in Venice. I went to liim three or four days afterward, and found him at his banki t? mica "in^f rofn rri o/I frrim lii c XAA^-JlAV/UO^j iVtUiiJLVU. JLJLVxjh a lxkJ journey. He had come back instantly on hearing of his daughter's flight. He was furious, as he naturally would be, and narrat -d to me the story of his wrongs, fancying that I knew nothing about them. He said nothing about the money, however, and I concluded that it had not yet been missed. . After the rage iLto which he had worked himself by talking had somewhat subsided, I gently approached the subject I came about. It A\as quite r<ninfnl tn spp thf> workings of his fncfi as I told him now his daughter had robbed him. This seemed the "unkindest cut of all." " I don't believe she could have done it herself," he said. " It must have been that scoundrel who prompted her to do it." "But," I said, "you are entirely mistaken. That scoundrel, as you call him, knew nothing about it. It was he who asked me to return it to you. Believe me, sir, you would alter your opinion of iiim were you to know him." "And you are one of his friends," he said, with a sneer. " I see how it is; this is a regular plot to rob me of all I possess. B ut we will see whether there is yet .SLcient law in Venice to protect me." I told him I knew nothing . jre of his son-in-law than that I had uiet him, iis the reader already knows; and I saw that he was somewhat amused, and his i angry frown somewhat relaxed,- as I told him how I had made his daughter's acquaintance; for in his rage and excitement he forgot that I had not known Amina before. After a long interview, in which I pleaded strongly for his child, telling j him, both for her sake and his own, it i would be better to nusn tne matter up, he consented to see her and her hus; band. i I joyfully took good news to them, and was just in time to leave them to stay where they were till they heard from me again. After the first interview, as I hiid expected, no obstacle was thrown in the way of their union, and before I had left Venice I had the satisfaction of seeing the family once more united. v minq +/\V1 ms T hart snffim'pntlv rp uvuu Jbav A utvv? W , w paired my fault, and I have congratulated myself ever since that my night adventure ended so happily. Gathering Hnman Hair in France. About the month of ilay the gatherers of the lover order of trades, peddlers. etc.. commence harvesting; they come to the villages at regular intervals. The largest cut is made in Auvernia department ("Western France) during the annual fair, about St. John's day, when the gatherer, with his wares and shining coin, most successfully tempts the unsophisticated country girls, ;ind becomes owner of thp, choicest of their hair at the lowest possible price. The provincial girl, as she is called, will make her choice of merchandise or give orders for something else. The scissors may at once come into use, and accounts settled, or she may take advance payments for her silken coils, to be cut at some future time, the hair to grow until a time stipulated. Advances may be made on the next four or five years' crops; the executioner with his scissors will rather be later than too soon to uncoil his fair debtor, for such debts ??? ? TI-IOCH rrfltliprin (lie Cll >> CIJ O 11UUV1CVU AUVWV , (one of the curiosities of Parisian industry) last from spring to fall, when the gatherers make their last delivery of hair, balance merchandise or contracts taken, square their own accounts, and return to their various trades, by which they strive to accumulate small sums of money or merchandise to as. sist them in their luring traffic nexi; spring. Such as are not so fortunate are assisted with the required money and merchandise by the factor (de courtier), which is the useful,and to some the indispensable, banker and middlemen between them and the large buyer, merchant and preparer. A factor will equip several hundred men, and appoint the day and the village where he will meet them, about once a month, to make settlements. There they will be relieved of their stock of hair and T-*y?i1 oniclior! fnr cm: I J. JJClU&t Cliiu U.J. -UV/ ivjinvuiwuvu further decoy and chasing. The peasant girls and women are not the only ones who furnish the contingent to the world's demand of this luxury. Large quantities of beautiful hair, soft, clean and delightfully perfumed, come into the market. One can almost imagine that he can yet see the hand of the virgin's lover on its waving brilliancy, or it may be an act of devotion of Venus, a last resource trv her Ainhnnse out of funds. Again, they may be the spoils ~ of holiness, virgins offering their bodies to Christ ana church despoiled of the charming tresses by the creaking shears of the godly servants, who at a clear profit for hard cash return them to that world where they had been so much admired. A considerable quantity of hair is derived from chapels or chrinoe in Ttrittanv. where, according to an old custom, a great number of devotees make 'offerings j>?. tj^^hajr toTSrotfier" Virgin Alary, and as those donations accumulate they are scattered among all nations, creeds, virtues or otherwise?such is heavenly accommodation. In Venetia, Lombardy and Piedmont 2,000 gatherers are employed, who send their cuttings to the French market. ? American Hair isressvi. The Last of the Tramp Printers. " Poor old Match ett!" wrote George C. Harding, a little more than a year ago. Poor old Matchett again came into this office the other day on his regular annual tour. lie "was several weeks behind schedule time, and age lias driven the burin deeper into the lines in his face. There's more curve in his spine, more stoop in his shoulders. His hands tremble and his legs are weaker, lie is drawing nearer to the close of his pilgrimage, and it doesn't matter, perhaps, that he gets feebler as he nears the last milestone. The haven of rest is just beyond. " I'm a settin' my last paragraph," said the old man, sadly. " When I was here before," he continued, looking around, " George Harding said to me, ' jtfatchett, you can't last long,'' and here I am; he went first." George "Washington Matehett is now in his seventy-seventh year, a Bal- ] timorean by birtft, the last 01 toe oia j line of typographical tramps, and the i most picturesque subject in I trampdom. "It's my forty- [ fourth annual tour," said he, " and I'm the last of 'em. Tom "Wallace and I traveled together for many a year, but lie's gone. Years ago I planted a wil- I low on his grave at Bucyrus, Ohio. Tom and I -worked for Horace Greeley on the New Yorker. Why, I worked in thi^ town on the third number of the Sentinel. Old Charley "Warner was the foreman. Dead now. I'm the onlv one of that force?editors, compositors, pressmen?left alive. "We must do all the good we can as we. journey through life," continued Matehett, in a ruminating tone. " My record's clean." And so we think it is, old man. The only harm you have done has been to yourself, with the enemy that annually, etc., and why need that be marked against you ? Fellow-travelers are we along life's dusty highway, and you the oldpr and more travel-worn. Your hand, old friend; God bless you!?Indianapolis Review. A Hero of the Jeannette. Lieutenant Danenhower has given to a reporter of the "Washington Star an account of Alexy, the hero of the Jeannette expedition, whose name was little known until found penned so often in the s?. i< -nal of Commander De Long. Du all tnat marcn to death in the Lena delta, it will be remembered, it was Alexy who went on ahead to explore the way, it was Alexy who secured for the wanderers their meager supply of food, it was Alexy who gave his coat to save De Long from freezing, and it was Alexy who, faithful to the end, at last succumbed and lay down to die among the latest survivors. This brave man was an Alaskan Indian, from St. Michael's, Xorton Sound. lie was finely proportioned, with small, delicate-looking hands and feet. Among the Jeannette's crew he was a general favorite on account of his polite manners and readiness to help in any work. He 1-^1. 1 learned ine x^ngiisu uipuuuct, ua-ame expert at stuffing birds, and also learned to draw. lie was a fine dancer, and often amused the crew by illustrations of Indian war-dances, fie was very fond of his family, and at times became homesick, fearing his wife and little boy would not have sufficient clothing while he was away. Before sailing he had made arrangements to have .his pay all given to his wife. She will not know of his death until next spring, and it is thought that some arrange; ment will be made by which she will i receive his pay up to that time. BOEDER TILES. Foi-t Laramie and Im Hirtory?-The Bloody Deeds of the Notorious Slade?-The Execution of Three Bad Indians. There is no place that has played so important a part life the history of the "Western frontier raid yet one that is so little known to the general reader as old Fort Laramie, in the Territory of Wyoming, says a correspondent writing from that region. For years this ancient frontier fort was the only trading lost for hundreds of miles around it, and consequently was the rendezvous of the trappers and hunters who pursued their dangerous and exciting avocations in the Black hills, a hardy and reckless class of men who recognized no human law and who regarded the i-nifo o'vi tiiA nrnnpr arbiter <U1VI ivuii.v v?v of all disputes and differences. The post was established by the North American Fur ^company in 1845, and was purchased by the government in 1&49, since which time it has been occupied by-troops snd used .as a storehoii^j^.ioi^-Tnilii-ary -sifcfc plies. It is slt>near, 'he west birnk of the L&amie rival, a mile aimvp its nmctioii with the Platte, on an elevated plain surrounded by sand hills. The adotefwall which originally inclosed it, and the old buildings of the same material, have disappeared, and it is now a handsomely laid out place, partly civic and partly military in its make up. The territory in which it stands was formerly claimed by the Ogillalah Sioux, and -w hen not on hunting excursions or the war path, its vicinity was then''favorite campingground ; but they have been moved off .1 4-U ^ to an agency, in aorasKa, auu mc Laramie and Patte valleys are now covered with numerous herds of cattle, whose owners make the fort their headquarters. _ In the early day of its existence, before the tide of emigr^ti'd '">egan to flow westward, Fort Laramie was frequented by some of the mosl desnorst.p anrUrprides? character.* thai the world ever saw. Generally they were men who had left the States to escape punishment for, the commission of crime, and in that remote and little known region, unrestrained by law, they gave free indulgence to their fierce and ungovernable passions. Of course there were notable exceptions to this class, but they were largely in the minority. Probably the worst of these desperadoes, whose names were enough to chill the heart of a timid, law-abiding person, was the notorious Siade, whose bloody deeds and tragic and timely death are recounted in Mark Twain's " Roughing It." When Ilolliday established the overland stage line to California Slade was appointed division superintendent over that part of it extending from Laramie to the Sweetwater river; and as soon as he assumed the duties of the position he began a career of murder, in many instances killing a man for pastime, or, as he expressed it, to " keep his nana in." How many murders he committed along the stage line from Laramie to Sweetwater can never he known, as shooting a man in that country in those days was little thought of a ad was soon forgotten,1 hut of them all, and fViorc. h-pw nwiiv the: most, wanton and sickening was.1 the killing of a Frenchman, whostT^uie I cannot now -w?S?r==2l^'^rSc5r*-'J^OT miles, below Laramie on the Platte river. The Frenchman had in some way incurred the displejisure of Slade and he sent him word that he would shoot him on sight. A short time afterward Slade was riding by the ranch where the Frenchman was employed and coming upon him suddenly before he had time to recover from his surprise and consternation he pinioned his arms with a lariat and deliberately ' tied him fast to a stake of the corral and coohy told him that in an hour he would shoot him. through the heart. There was no one about "the premises at the time but a few old squaws .who, frightened half to death, ran away and hid. True to his word, at the expiration of the hour, Slade came from the house and emptied the contents of his revolver in the body of the unfortunate man, and then with his bowie knife cut oif his ears and put them in his ! pocket. This dastardly and inhuman .i?f n-oe liie loct in thnt. f>minfrv. TliP j <IW ?? CW UiO iiwu Aii vw v.?.. . . friends of his victim swore to revenge his death, and the country becoming too hot for Slade he went to Virginia City, where he soon fell into the hands of the vigilance committee, which body, without the formality of a trial, ended his infamous career by hanging him to a tree in the outskirts of the city. A mile or two above the' fort, on a dreary-looking hill near the point where the Dead wood road crosses the Platte, stand three gibbets where are deposited the bodies of three Sioux Indians. Crow, Two-Face and Flat .Foot, who were hung in the summer of 1865 by the military authorities for horribly maltreating two white women whom they had captured several months previous. The writer having assisted in the erection of those gibbets and the elevation of their human fruit feels , competent to relate tliis ower' true story, which is probably now published for the first time. In the spring of 1865 a small party of e.ni grants were surprised while encamped upon Pole creek by a band of marauding Sioux Indians, under the leadership of Crow and Two-Face, subordinate chiefs of that tribe. They fought desperately for a while but were soon overpowered by superior numbers, and those who were not killed in the fight were made prisoners. There were two women with them, a Mrs. Morton and her sister, who were forced to stand by and see their busVvot./Ic. nnd TitvyHi pr< mprpilpccltr tnr. yauuo auu v* w*4v.w vi?Vw* * w? tured to death, they being spared for a fate a thousand times worse. Fox months they were dragged through the Black Hills, made to perforin the hardest of labor, often terribly beaten by squaws, and maltreated in the most fiendish manner. The sister being in a delicate state of health could not endure the hardships of their situation, and finding her unable to walk after severa] weeks 01 captivity sue was iext iymg upon the sands with an arrow througli her heart. Every effort mate l>y the soldiers to rescue the unhappy woman proved fruitless, until one day Flat Foot came into the fort with a message from Crow -offering to deliver her tc the commanding officer for a large ransom of horses, guns and ammunition. lie: was immediately seized and placed in the guard-house and a detachment of the Tenth Ohio cavalry, undei Lieutenant Lewis, guided by a friendlj half-breed, was sent into" the hills in search of Crow's camp, and aftei an absence of several davs thev re turned, bringing with them Mrs. Morton and Crow and Two Face, whoir they had captured after a desperate re sistance. The story told by Mrs. Morton of her terrible suffering so exasperated the soldiers that nothing bui the death of the three fiends woulc quiet their clamorings for revenge, s( they were tried by a drum-head couii martial and they were duly sentencec to be hung. After the execution the} were left hanging for a couple 01 months, and then their bodies wer< . : .-"v.'.-" . .* taken down and put in a box and fastened on the top of the beam from which they were suspended, where they still remain a warning to all evil doing redskins. At the time of the execution of the three Indians there was in the fort a tall, powerful, half-demented fellow known as Kripps the Carpenter, who, vrlani-h /vf Vn'o hncnm friMirl UCIUiO IliC iiccton. vx mc brave little Billy Lorance, was one of the quietest, best natured and best liked men in the whole regiment. Kripps and Billy enlisted together in the Eleventh Ohio, and they could not have loved each other better had they been brothers. One morning in the spring of 1865, while they were rambling along the banks of the Platte a few miles above Laramie, they were attacked by a band of Indians who had been concealed in the brushes. Kripps, [ slightly wounded, escaped, but not beI fore he saw his comrade shot down at I T-mm flint timp hp. was a changed man. His mind received a shock from . which he never , recovered; he became : r^nHrrfifiad"mdrose and-nb efforts on the: part of his comraSfc ?ould divert his mind from his grief for his friend. When Crow was brought into the fort Kripps saw and recognized him as the leader of the party of Indians who had killed Billy Lorance, and breaking past ! the guards he sprang upon him with the ferocity of. a tiger, and it required the combined strength of a half dozen men to prevent his killing him right there. When Crow was sentenced to be hung Kripps asked and was granted permission to act as executioner. He constructed the contrivance upon which they were to die, and watched the guard-house almost day and night lest I his hated enemy snouiu escape. [ When the day of execution arrived, and while Crow was standing under the beam from which he was to hang and Kripps was kneeling at his feet riveting shackles upon his ankles, with a powerful effort the doomed redskin -wrenched his hands loose, and, seizing a heavy ball which i Tt-oo offortimr) f<-> hi? Ipc hv a*r>hain. | ?? (to avwuuucu w iiiu ? 7 i.aimed a blow at the head of his zeal: ous executioner which would, had it . .struck him, certainly have crushed his I skull, but Kripp* saw the movement and sprang aside in time to escape the blow, and in a twinkling was upon him, and the bones fairly cracked as he drew the cords around?the Indian's wrists with all the force he could muster. Then before the signal was given he cut the rope that held the beam, and laughed aloud in his fierce delight as the murderer of his beloved comrade swung into eternity. POPULAR SCIENCE. j At a recent meeting of the Anthropological institute, London, Lord Talbot de Malahide read a paper on the longevity of the Romans in Xorth Africa. The author gave several instances of epitaphs and inscriptions on tombs of persons whose age had exceeded 100 years; in some cases an age of 120, 130 and even 140 years had been attained. Small snakes about one-twelfth of an inch in length have been discovered in the'proboscides of flies. It is a source of consolation to snow that the fly, which makes life a burden to the 1 human" victim" to which- he att5C!reshimself this season, may perish miserably ere the coming winter is over through the retributive presence of a reptile which may be even now gnawing at his vitals." At a recent meeting of the Royal Horticultural society of London, Rev. G. Henslow exhibited potato-tubers which had. grown upon the stalks of the plants in the axils of leaves. He also I chnwpfl nlum leaves Derforated with small circular holes, caused by the lens action of raindrops which concentrated the sun's rays and burned the leaves. Another exhibitor, Mr. Laxton, sent green, purple and speckled pea-pods? the last a result of crossing the two others. Professor E. L. Larkin has demonstrated mathematically that tb<- fall of the largest comet to the sun could only,be observed by the most powerful telescopes and spectroscopes, while only the most delicate heat-measuring apparatus could detect any increase of temperature upon the earth as an effect ; of the collision. Far from hastening our destruction, whatever heat may ' be added to the sun by the coniinuea fall of cometarv matter from space must tend to prolong man's existence upon an expiring planet whose poles are already frozen in death. It has been found that the presence of silicia is not essential to plant' growth, but that it may serve v?' 'able I purposes is shown by the researc :s of Wolff. After fourteen years of experiments on the oat plant, this observer concludes that silica aids in the ripen. ing of grain by causing the early death of the leaves, which is followed by a passage of their nutritive matters to the seeds. Thus in an experiment without silica thirty seeds were produced; with a little silica, ninety seeds; with much silica, 184 seeds. Silica also tends to prevent the absorption by plants of superfluous quantities of essential mineral matter, thus keeping the soil from unnecessary exhaustion. A River of Hot Water. T1!-*/^Anf Ciift?A +11r-?r?nl />nf X liu UUUiV U VUlr w A v lieve.the celebrated Comstock mines at ' Virginia City, Xev., of the vast quanti- j ties of hot water which is encountered ' in them, affords an outlet to 12,000,000 tons every twenty-four hours. Some ' of the water, as it finds its way into ! the mines, has a temperature of 195 degrees, while four miles from the mouth of the tunnel the temperature ^ ranges from 130 degrees to 1*35 degrees. To obviate the inconvenience which ; would arise from the vapor such a vast ' quantity ol water wouui give on uie : flow is conducted through the entire tun; nel, four miles, in a tight flume made of | pine. At the point of exit the water has [ lost but seven degrees of heat. Sixty ' feet below the mouth of the tunnel the " hot water is utilized for turning machinery belonging to the company, 11 from whence it is carried off by a tun| j nel 1,100 feet in length, which serves ' as a waterway. Leaving the waste| way tunnel, the water Hows to the [ j Carson river, a mile and a half distant. : | This hot water is being utilized for ' i manv nnrnnsfs. The bovs have ar ranged several pools where they indulge in hot baths. The miners and others I use it for laundry purposes, and arrangements are being made "whereby 1,000 acres belonging to the company are being irrigated. It is proposed to conduct the hot water through iron pipes beneath the surface of the soil, near the roots of thousands of fruit trees which are to be planted, and in a similar manner giving the necessary warmth to a number of hothouses to be used for the propagation of early fruits and vegetables. J I 11 ^ iMAflolo nf Pnricior? ) ! OOU1& UJL LI1C XHWIWJ VA JL (Ki.A.71(UA ; dresses have absurdly long-pointed cor1; sages and stiff, hideous paniers, which t j more resemble the workmanship of :ui f | upholsterer than the deft and graceful i I handiwork of a French artist. EEIIGIOUS RE ADEN'S, The Iron Egg. 1 " In whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge." (CoL ii. 3).! In the museum at Berlin is an iron egg, of which the following beautiful, story is told: " Many years ago a prince became j stffifi-noorJ tn a. Invfilv nrinceSS. to whom I he promised to send a magnificent gift j as a testimonial of his affection. In due \ time the messenger arrived, bringing j the promised gift, which proved to be I an iron egg. The princess was so angry [ to think that the prince should send her so valueless a present that she threw it upon the floor, when the iron egg opened, disclosing a silver lining. Surprised at such a discovery she took the egg in her hand, and while examining it closely discovered a secret spring, which she touched, and the silver lining opened, disclosed a golden yolk. .Examining it - carefully, she found another spring which, when opened, disclosed within the golden yolk' a juby crown. 'Subjecting that to' an examination, shetouched a "spring: and forth oame the diamond ring with which he affianced her to himself." So often come the richest gifts of God to us. Their outward seeming is as unattractive as the iron egg. But within the seeming repulsiveness lies hidden the silver linings of a divine love. Within that love lies hidden the golden treasures of the gospel. Within that lies hidden the crown of life ("Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of righteousness.") 4 1 - 4-1>A -Alio, wuxmi we crown mc jcntitu. ring with which he?the bridegroom? will affiance his bride nnto himself.? The Watchword. Religions News and Note?. Bicycles are becoming very popular with clergymen. Pive Roman Catholic priests are attached to the British army in Egypt. There is a svnod of the Presbyterian church in Spain comprising upward of twenty churches or missions. Rev. Thomas Harrison, " The Boy Evangelist," participated in the services of seven camp-meetings -this season. The Bible is translated into thirtytwo African languages, in eight of which the whole of the Scriptures are published. The Methodist church has 25,906 1 _ Tr 4. 1_ 4-Urs memuers ui x^eiituui^y, uxiu ww ?uctu- j odist church, South, 64,716 members in the same State. Three thousand five hundred churches have been built in the United States during the past fifteen years, and more than one for every day in the year during the last twelve months. The presbytery of the Red River of the North, in a recent session at Moorhead, Minnesota, decided to locate their college at Casselton, Dakota. Twenty acres of land at that place, or $30,000 in cash, are promised. The 50,009,000 of the population in ILir u KJVOiVKykJ 11CV T V U JL AVUWUUIA*'/ ' minister for every 728 persons, and a j Sabbath-school teacher for every fifty-! six. One in every five is a member of an evangelical church. lu the decade from 1872 to 1882, --MllTM U.IA'.I f.niit nlnn.e.'r.rt.g ?r)f| of 4,728 members in the presbytery of New York?"a proportion," it is said, " nearly double the ratio of the city*5 growth during the same period." In November a Baptist convention is to be held in Cincinnati to try to settle the much-vexed question as to is suing a version of the 13ible winch shall be distinctively Baptist in its use of " immerse" instead of " baptize." The Congregationalist gives the fol-: lowing review of the Presbyterian church in the United States for the last year: According to statistics just compiled, the Presbyterian church, North, in this country, now has 5,744 churches with a total membership of 598,128; and its total benevolent contributions the last year have been j A A C\aC\ O C\H HPUa rntmrj f a V?ayy?a l x lie auiuuuo tu \j\j iivuuc j missions was $467,625; foreign, $465,-1 219. Education, church erection and other kindred works are not included in these home mission figures. The Southern Presbyterian church reports 2,010 churches (with only 1,081 masters) and 123,806 communicants. Its contributions, reported the last year, have been $1,130,133, of which foreign missions liad $46,638, while nothing is specified for home missions. The church North received 29,389 members on confession during the year; the /?Vmw?Vi Srmt.T? K 062. The ehurfih Xorth organized 182 new churches, and reports only titty as disbanded. The entire Presbyterian church membership of all branches in this country is put down at 825,000. A Beery Victory. A short time ago was celebrated, in ttip tnwn nf "Rprnau. in Prussia, the ! anniversary of a famous victory won j by the townsmen of that festive place i in 1432. At that time the Hussites, i under Koska, were besieging the town j in force, and there was little hope of i holding out against the determined j fanatics. The siege was raised by j means of a very curious stratagem de- j vised by the burgomaster, who may be j commended as having turned the appetites of the enemy into a more! powerful weapon against them than any number of more deadly-looking: arms that could have been manufac- j tured. It seems that the liking for | beer was then as strongly developed I among the people of the fatherland as now, and the difference of creed between the attacking and the defending armies did not imply any dissimilarity in their taste for the national bock. | But there was this essential difference ' between the one and the other?that i the besiegers had brought "with them ; no brew houses nor even any suita- j ble caldrons for the making of their! r? ? ! 4- ^ ^-71* v.'iw.r/ioc? nnvwl ' llliun, liiiuctw kjiv- uungi-u were in full possession of everything j that was required for that purpose, j The burgomaster accordingly either; gave orders, or at lea-'t made a sugges-j tic.n. that every brewer in Bernau should at once set to and brew as much j as he could of his best ale. Into the j vats was then introduced a sufficient quantity of well disguised narcotic. The casks were packed for exportation and dispatched in a long train at night from the gates. They were naturally: seized by the thirsty Hussites outside tllklL bllUl WUV\.iJiV.J iiiuuvvtii*w4 trilnited among the soldiery. The following day saw the latter all stretched, in a more or less insensible condition, on the ground, and an opportune sortie by the besieged ended in the death or capture of most of them and the flight of the rest. Koska was among the fugitives who escaped, but i his saddle, which was left behind, was i taken ;is a trophy, and still adorns the j town hall of llernau as one of its! principal curiosities.?London Globe. The conditions of success are these: | First, work ; second, concentration ; j third, fitness. Labor is the genius j which changes the ugliness 01 tne world into beauty; that turns the i> creates curse into a blessing. THE HOME DOCTOR. Facts Worth Remraberln*. Sudden deaths do not come from heart disease, one case in twenty, but from congestion of the lungs or brain, or from apoplexy. More die from congestion of the lungs than of the brain, and more of congestion of the brain than from apoplexy. Sudden death from heart disease is usually caused by rupture of some large artery near the heart; from con-1 gestion of the lungs, by instantly stopping the breath; from congestion of the .brain, by causing pressure on the brain which paralyzes and instantly destroys life; from apoplexy, by hemorrhage in the brain. Heart disease most frequently results from neglected or improperlytreated. rheumatism. It more often f/->n/\nrro rniM TfioiTma+.icm than t.hft se-1 vere kind, because severe rheumatism receives prompt treatment, -while the mild farm is often neglected and left to work its way to the heart. : ? Persons j?ho suppose themselves suffering from, heart " disease because they .have pain in the. region of the heart; or palpitation, seldom have any disease of that organ. In nine cases-, out of ten they are sufferers from dyspepsia?nothing more. Congestion of the lun<rs is most frequently caused by a sudden change from the heat of an ill-ventilated room, or railroad car, or horse car, to the cold air outside, without being protected by sufficient clothing; hence, many persons thus seized drop dead in the streets. Congestion of the brain uost frequently results from trouble and anxiety of mind, producing sleeplessness, followed by the engorgement of the small blood vessels of the brain, sudden loss of vital power, and almost instant death. Apoplexy may be an inherited disease, or it may be induced by too free living, or its opposite, too great abstemiousness. Paralysis may affect only a small portion of the body, from a finger or toe to an entire limb, or it may disable half the body, or the whole body, when death soon follows. When half the body is affected by paralysis, we may be certain that the seat of the disease is in the opposite side of the brain, because nerve fibers cross. Partial paralysis is often temporary " i- ^11 when caused oy ine rupture ox a sman blood vessel, if the clot is got rid of by absorption or otherwise. Although this is a disease that all classes of people are liable to, its most destructive work is done among the depraved and dissipated- There is no doubt that the habitual use of tobacco is one of the most prominent causes of paralysis and other nerve diseases. A severe cold can be soonest cured by ^remaining within doors, in a warm room and near the fire, until all signs of it have disappeared. Then care should be taken to prevent a relapse by having the feet warmly clad, and the whole body, and particularly the chest and back of the neck, well pro tecieu wxieu gumg uuu A recent cough will almost always yield to the following treatment within* two or three days: Mix in a bottle four ounces of glycerine, two ounces of alcohol, two ounces, of water, two grains of morphine. . Shake welL Dose for an adult, one to two teaspoonfuls every two or three hours. %lf this -quantity- tcr--ek?Wrea fromgive it to. infants or children under ten years of age. To stop bleeding, if from a cavity in the jaw after a tooth has been extracted, shape a cork into the proper form and size to cover the "bleeding cavity, and long enough to be kept firmlv in nlace when the mouth is closed. This, we believe is our own invention, and we have never known it to fail. It has served us in desperate cases. "When an artery is cut, the red blood spurts out at each pulsation. Press the thumb firmly over the artery near the wound, and on the side toward the heart. Press hard enough to stop the bleeding, and wait till a physician comes. The wounded person is often able to do this himself if he has the requisite knowledge. Simple fractures may be adjusted by almost any one. Get the limb as nearly as possible in the natural position, ana then send for the doctor. There is no great urgency in such cases. In fracture of the skull, with compression and loss of consciousness, examine the wound, and, if possible, raise the broken edges of the skull so as to relieve the pressure on the brain. Prompt action will often save life. In cases of poisoning, the simple rule is to get the poison out of the stomach as soon as possible. Mustard and salt act promptly as emetics, and they are always at hand. Stir a table * - 1 "? ? ?1 Irtf SpOOMUJ. IJU. <t ujl rv ai/Ci, ouu iti the person swallow it quickly. If it does not cause vomiting in five minutes, repeat the dose. After vomiting, give the whites of two or three eggs, and send for the doctor. Burns and scalds are soonest relieved by an application of cold water. Di / carbonate of soda, or baking soda, sprinkled over the burned spot, is the latest remedy, and is said to be very effectual. These means are only temporary. In severe cases a physician should be sent for.?HaWs Journal of Health. Peculiar Customs in Thibet. The principal food of the country is ! called jamba. To make it a quantity of powdered tea is cooked for several hours, after which it is poured into a" churn, when salt and butter are added, and the whole is stirred until a complete mixture Js effected. The broth is then divided among the hungry ones, each of whom. gets his share in a wooden bowl,' after which a sack of roasted barley meal is brought out. Every one takes a handful of meal from the sack, puts it into the tea and mixes -the mass into a shapely lump, and swallows his dough witb a keen appetite. After the meal is over, the I wooden bowls are licked clean with the tongue and worn on the breast next to | the skin as something precious. Pnlvorwlrv is nr.ioticod. not On aC- ! coulit of any lack of women, for there ! is no such lack, but as a measure of economy. VHien the oldest son marries his wife bk^nes also the wife of all his brothers. The custom does not lead to so many difficulties as might be supposed it would, and the chief trouble arising out of it concerns the fatherhood of the children. The housewife occupies rather a commanding than a subordinate n^.^n. ~ tlto /-loorl nira_ X III tfC ^ WU1UVJJL\^ UViiU vaiL The ])t?^sink their dead in one of the mountain streams; tliose of a better class hang the bodies upon a tree, where they are consumed by birds, and the bones are afterward thrown into the river; the rich cut the bodies up into small pieces, pound the bones and mix them with jamba, and then carry the remains to the mountains, where they are left for the birds. These are old customs and have no connection Daavii7/*/? >\ itil ICllgiVUL. JL ISJJUIU,/ iy- _ " Fat Boy:" Xo, you cannot raise chickens from egg plants. You might as well try to raise calves from cowI catchers. _ A Lion Tamer's Method. A curious history, and one that shed*. Jfr many gleams of light upon the eharao a "gSm I ter of beasts in the menagerie, is that if ! of Henri Martin, the lion-tamer, who died, ninety years eld. quietly^at his home, "among his collections of but- 'qaj terfiies and his books of botany." Martin, according to his own letters, began to cultivate his gift of control over animals in the days when he was . connected with a circus, by acquiring an extraordinary power over horses. From this he went^to taming wild - j||| beasts, arid labored eight months in. fTainiTic, a rrival tiflrftr. and taught a? - ~-ifl spotted hyena to pick np bis gloves. He was never seen with a whip in his hand; but he crossed his arms, and gave his animal the word of commaii4.^j^^| to leap on and off his shoulders; an d he ' Wk considered his method infinitely supenor to that of the tamos who go ,J?g| through their business chiefly by the ' terrorism of a heavy whip and a re- ivolver. One day Martin told his Wife 'that he anticipated trouble with his -IIOil, uooourg, WUO YV? mcu ux c* dangerous state of excitement. do it .once/1 shoiM hare to do il^very time the animals have caprices." The next night his forebodings were fulfilled. Instead of performing his part' properly, Cobourg crouched low ancf dug his talons into the stage, and his eyes flared- Martin had no weaponi at command except a dagger in his belt. Instead of obeying orders, the lion leaped at Martin, and a combat ;#?j occurred, in the course of which the lion toot JMartin in nis mourn aaa : shook him in the air. Martin struck ~Jm the animal over the nose for a second ^ time, and then, feeling his strength '-'M exhausted, gave himself up for lost, and turned his back to the beast, so' -H* that at the next spring it might attack' . the back of his neck, and so " make an ";^g| end of the business. But two seconds passed, two seconds that seemed to me - /jaS an eternity. I turned around; tha . lion's mood had changed. He looked at the audience, he looked at me. I gave him the sign to go. He went / \f|| away as if nothing had happened." It was fourteen week before Martin couia ... 33a perform again, but then the lion . M|g worked well as usual, and continued to' do so for years without any more car ^ prices. In taming one of his tigers ' Martin began by taking the brute's attention off the door of the cage, and hi then armed with a dagger, went - rapidly into the cage and stood looking at the tiger, which for some minutes lay ^ Trmf mnlftas. staring at him Then, feel ing a shiver, and knowing that if the /:M tiger saw it all would be over with :.| him, he went swiftly out At the end' of a fortnight he went again into the " cage, and this time stayed there half an hour. A third time he paid the tiger a visit of three quarters of an hour. " The fourth. time the tiger, trembling at first, lay down before the pygmy who braved it." To tame a hyena, Martin wrap ped liis legs ana arms witn corus, <uiu . ;^ protected his'head with handkerchiefs, and then, walking into the cage, went straight to the animal and offered it his fore-arm. The hyena bit it, and ||? the tamer, looking steadily in its eyes, stood motionless. The next day he re-, peated the experiment, substituting a Qirtti0 Martlii'a ljlulX" warfe? th& orpar av<>s of the hvena. The beast -'^cSS gave up, pringed, and smelled the feet of the master." Martin tamed his subjects by his personal influence alone; and Charles Xodier once said of him: " At the head of an army Martin might - ^ have been a Bonaparte. Chance, has ;vl made a man of genius a director of a menagerie." ill About Food, About an equal amount of nourish- * ' "\|| ment is to be derived from: Eight ounces of lean beef and one . pound of red-blooded fish. Ten ounces of dried lentils and one pound ten ounces of white-blooded fish. - j Eleven ounces of peas and beans and one pound thirteen ounces of buckwheat. . m Ann/wi n-P /wuwio.nihg ond xyvcivc uuuv*? uj. wws^iiiw two pounds of white bread. Fourteen ounces of [tea and two ? pounds six ounces of rice. Fifteen-ounces of oatmeal and five pounds three ounces of cabbage. One pound one ounce of wheat flour >; and five pounds three ounces of onions. One pound one ounce of coffee and seven pounds thirteen ounces of par^ ' ?? snips. . ' <^j|S One po7"nd two ounces of rye meal 1 and eight pounds fifteen ounces o? turnips. " * One pound three ounces of barley ? canrc*r* rtf lilCcU <%UU. bcu jwumn gvibu ^ . VJ. potatoes. One pound five ounces of Indian meal and fifteen pounds ten ounces - . -A of carrots. It will be seen from this table that onions and cabbages are far more valuable foods than potatoes; but like bread, potatoes seldom satiate or weary the appetite, and therefore, % like bread, they are considered a staple food.?Jvliet Corson. Ostrich Farming in the United States. Some time since Consul Baker, of Buenos Ayres, ventured the statement that ostrich farming could be made very profitable in the Southern and Pacific Coast States. Since then Mr. ra Baker has received a number of letters asking for further information. In stead of answering them separately he has put them together in a second communication on the subject. He says he does not think it would be possible to send ostrich eggs so as to " -'-1 arrive in this country in good condition. The only safe way, he says, is to procure the birds, which are best shipped when about four years old. The product of each bird is annually about $60, though the feathers of . ? some have sold as high as $150. Mr. Baker thinks the birds would each pro- -pj duce $120 worth of feathers annually . in the Southern States. An ostrich H two years old costs about $375. Delivered at Baltimore, breeders can be, ^ had for $1,750 per pair. For four-t . year-old birds, which may be expected} ^ shortly to breed, the price will be' /_ $1,200 per pair and for two-year-olds, 5 nor rialr. A nair of breeders will ~ v - ~ l? tr ? i- ? rear sixtv chicks annually.?Baltimore* ? I Sun. The Biggest Tree.. Victoria, British Australia, now | claims the glory of holding the biggest v '"^; I of all the living "big trees" in the ; world, so far as height is concerned In j the Dandenong district, at Fenashaw, >" ; has recently been discovered a specie ' men of Eucalyptus amygdalina, or alj mond-leaf gum, which reaches th? j enormous height of three hundred and : eighty feet before throwing out a single |a i branch, and is four hundred and ; thirty feet to the wp, caving 4 ^ ! girth of . sixty feet at some "Jg | distance above the ground. Somt -|?9 ; idea of what a height of four hundrec j and thirty feet represents may tx j gained from the fact that this gum ; tree, growing by the side of Trinity --^jSE church, the highest church edifice is . New York, would overtop the spire b< ' exactly one hundred and forty-six feefc