The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, December 06, 1882, Image 1
!' WEEKLY EDITION. . WIKNSBORO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 6, 1882. ESTABLISHED IN 1844. |j||
i Gik???? p. /MiJiaritlps of .Ants.
lilke the Ivy.
True Iotp. jp like tho ivy bold,
That 5^'i-gs each day with firmer hold;
Th-a^roweth on through good and ill,
Ar^'mid the tempest ciingeth still.
}^hat though the walls on which it climbs
^^Have lost the grace of former times,
Will then the ivy loose its hold,
Forget the sunny day? of old?
P V Nay, rather it will closer cling
With loving clasp, remembering
S?L That it had hardly lived at all
Without the kindly shclt'ring wall.
True love is like the ivy bold,
That clings each day with firmer hold;
That groweth on through good and ill,
And 'mid tho tempest clingeth still.
True love is like tho ivy preen,
H^yThat ne'er forsvttetn what hath been,
jgj? VvPd so, till "life itself be gone,
iNtil the end it clingeth on.
though the tree where it may cling
o'^hardly know another sp-ing?
gig "Lhouyh its boughs be dead and bare?
^k :oriocjminp ivy climbeth there,
K *>s it with a firmer hold,
fe't t^er love than that of old,
W m^^^L^ousI5^ }'ouc~ nnd life was glad.
y, h$s like the ivy green,
My hope "hen c/? forgetteth what hath been,
1 " Hilu oUrtill life itself be gone,
Until the ead it clingeth on.
?George Weatherly.
SEAF0A2E
LODCxE.
" There must be no other boarders
taken," said Mr. McCorkindale. "I
stipulate tor tnau
" Oh, there will be none!" said Mr.
Dewey, the boarding and real estate
agent, nibbling the end of his pen. " I
know Mrs. Sweetelover very well?a
most respectable widow, in reduced
circumstances?and I know all about
Seafoam lodge. A delightful place,
v on the edge of the ocean, where a man
can't help being healthy."
"Very well," said Mr. McCorkindale.
"Let her know that I consider the
thing a bargain. I will send my trunks
on Monday of next week."
Mr. McCorkindale had been summering
at the Adirondacks, and had found
ihat mountain breezes, black tlies and
dried pine-needles didn't agree with
him. He was now resolved to try the
effect of October at the seaside. And
he wont home, well pleased with the
aSk'.iZEi'' V T. ^ 1 } ~ ~
vorgaiu ut* uiKi uuiuu.
Now, Mr. Dewey was in a partnership?Dewey
& Salter?and so neatly
dovetailed together were the arrangements
of the firm that Mr. Saltes, who
dined at ha!.-past, twti.e, came to
"keep oflice" exactly at the hour in
which Mr. Dewey, who dined at halfpast
one, took up his hat and cane to
depart. And scarcely had Mr. Salter
lighted his cigir, and scttU-d his chair
back at exactly the right angle of the
wall, than in came Miss MattieMilfoil,
a blooming young old-maid, who gave
lessons in swimming at tiie Aqua Pura
academy.
"I want board at the seaside for a
month/' said she. "At a place, please,
where there are no other boarders.
Prices must be moderate, and surfbathing
is a necessity."
"Ah," said Mr. Suiter, bringing his
chair down on its l'"ur legs at once,
" the very- place ! Mrs. Sweetclover,
a client or ours, nas tancn seacoam
lodge, on the Xew Jersev coast, and
h^^cleaa, light, <tiiy room to let^with i
^ "Yes," I know," said Miss Milton. j
my " Just let me look at her references."
The references proved eminently:
satisfactory. Miss Milfoil struck a
bargain at once.
"Let Mrs. Sweetclover expect me on j
Monday," she said; and Mr. Salter!
pocketed his commission with inward !
glee.
"Anything doing?" Mr. Dewey!
asked, when he came back from dinner.;
"I've let Mrs. Sweetclover's room i
for her," said Salter.
"Hello!" cried Dewey; "I let it this j
morning to old McCorkindale!"
"And I've just disposed of it to
Miss Milfoil," sputtered Salter. " Why
the deuce didn't you enter it on the
books?"
" A mail can't think of everything," j
said Mr. Dewey; " and I was going to I
enter it when I came back."
" But what are we to do now?" said ;
m ^ Salter.
"Nothing," said Dewey. "Ten to:
one, one of the parties won't keep '
the contract. "We're not to blame
that I can see."
And Mr. Dewey, a philosopher after I
his way, arranged his bulletin-board I
anew, and sat down a human spider,
to await the coming of any flies who .
might be disposed for business.
Mrs. Sweetclover, in the meantime, i
had swept and garnished Seafoam j
lodge until it was fresher than a cow- i
slip and sweeter than roses.
She had decorated her upstairs room j
with China matting, fresh muslin cur- i
tains, and dimity covers to the bureau j
and dressing-table.
" T do hone I shall i^e able to let it!" i
said 'Mrs. Sweetclover, with a sigh. I
"But there are so many seaside lodg-;
ings this year that? Dear me ! here j
comes a gentleman and a valise up the j
beach-road, and, as true as I live, he's :
making straight for my house!"
" Have my trunks arrived ?" said the j
gentleman ? "name of McCorking-!
: ; dale."
" Sir!" said Mrs. Sweetclover.
"I engaged the room through Dewey !
& Salter," said Mr. McCorkingdale,
" last week."
" It's the first I've heard of it," said
forstttbvgr^all in a flurry. "But:
? v ii' you're kindly welcome, sir, and the |
room is quite ready, if you'll be so '
good as to step upstairs."
' Humph! humph!" said Mr. Mc-!
Corkingdale, gazing around him with
the eye of an elderly eagle. " Very ;
clean?tolerably airy?superb view '
from the windows. Upon my word, I
like the looks of things."
" Do you think the apartment will
suit ?" said the widow, timidly.
" Of course it will suit!" said Mr.
McCorkindale. "Here is a month's
board in advance?ten dollars a week,
the agent said. You may serve dinner
if at 1. .Biuefish, roast clams, lobster salad
?any sort of sea-food you may happen
g-> to have. I don't eat desserts. And
^ . now I'm going out to walk on the seaMrs.
Sweetclover looked after him
mm with eyes of rapture.
"The boarder of all others that I
BT: would have preferred," said she. "I
am in luck ! I thought yesterday, when
. I saw the new moon over my right
shoulder, that something fortunate was
going to happen."
But Mrs. Sweetclover had not stuffed
the biuefish for baking when a light,
firm footstep crossed the threshold, and
Miss Milfoil stood before her, in a dark
blue serge dress, and a sailor hat of
black straw, while across her shapely
shoulders was slung a flat black satch9*?
el, trayeler-wise.
"Mrs. Sweetclover, I suppose?"said
The widow courtesied an affirma
p." . . tivfc v
^ am ^attie Milfoil," said the lady.
ffited your room last week, of
M^jSaltt-r."
thought the widow.
I bin.
" I like the situation very much," ;
continue'! Miss Milfoil, looking at the
j curling edges of foam that crept up
| the beacli at the left, and thr-n at a
murmuring grove of maples at tin*
. north. ' ! shall probably remain here
until Christmas, if I am suited."
" But the room is let already !"' -faltered
Miss Sweetclover, at last recovering
her voice.
"Let already !" repeated Miss Mili
foil. "But that is impossible. 1 have
C..1? ??
UlKtfU 11.
j " There's some mistake at the hoarding
agency," said Mrs. Swe;'tcIo\*er.
I almost ready to cry. '-It's been let
i twice; ar.d I never knew of it until
J this moment. Oh, dear! oh, dear ! It
i never rains but it pours!"
j " But what am I to do?" said Miss j
j Milfoil.
j Mrs. Swc't: lover's faded eyes lighted
I up with a f:;::it gleam of hope.
" I've only <. :i eligible apartment on |
; the second floor," :-a;d she ; "but if j
1 you don't mind the garret there's a
1 nice, airy room finished off there, with i
; two dormer windows overlooking the j
ocean?" j
"I'll look at it," said.Miss Milfoil.
She looked at it and she liked it, and ;
she straightway sent to the village for ;
: her trunks, unpacked her books, her
j work-basket, her writing-desk and her j
I portable e:isel, arranged some seaweed
over her mantel, and made her-,
! self at homo. i
| Mr. MeCorkindale, going upstairs J
from the dinner table, that very ciav, j
nearu a sweet, ciear voice singing uil*
: refrain of some popular ballad, from
the upper story.
"Eh?" said Mr. McCorkindale. " Is
j that your daughter?"
" It's my lady boarder, sir," said j
! Mrs. Sweetelovcr.
| " Look here," said ISIr. McCorkin-!
; dale, stopping short?" this won't go {
; down!"
"What won't go down, sir?" said!
j the bewildered landlady.
"2so other boarders taken, you
| know," said Mr. McCorkindale. "That j
! was my express stipulation."
j " I'm very sorry, sir," said Mrs. I
| Sweetclover, " but?"
" And I'm not going to be trifled j
with!" said Mr. McCorkiadale. "Either j
she or I must go!"
" Couldn't it be managed, sir ?" said
the landlady, half territied out of her !
senses.
" Xo, it couldn't," said Mr. McCork- !
indole.
At this moment, however, Miss Mil-!
foil herself made her appearance on I
i the scene, tripping down the stairs in |
| a quiet, determined sort of way, and
| facing the indignant elderly gentleman
as he stood there.
" What's the matter ?" said Miss j
Milfoil.
- The matter," said Mr. McCorkin- i
dale, ' is simply this. I have engaged
my board here on the express under-;
standing that I am to be the only
boarder, and?"
" 1 see," said Miss Milfoil. " And I |
am in the way."
Mr. McCorkindale was ominously j
silent.
" But," said Mattie, with an en-1
gaging smile, ' if I promise to be very !
quiet, and to restrain from annoying j
you in any manner wnatsoever?"
"Itwould make no difference," said
^rr. ; ;1 " I object to young
jyonien." 'nson.^0^-?
" But," cried indignant Mattie, "suppose
I were to ol?ject to middle-aged
gentlemen on no better pretext ?"
" You ;i,re perfectly welcome to do
so," said Mr. McCorkindale, stifllv. j
You see I am an old bachelor."
"And I am an old maid!" pleaded I
Mattie.
" It makes no difference?no differ- i
ence at all!" said Mr. McCorkindale.
" I am sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. j
Sweetclover, but?"
" Stop!" said -'I at tie, resolutely.
"Mrs. Sweetclover, if either of your
boarders leaves you it is me. I came
last, and I occupy the least remunerative
room. I will take my departure
on the noon train to-morrow."
And Mattie went back to her room
and cried a little; for she had become
very fond of her pretty little room already.
"At Jill events," said Mattie, to her
sen, " i wm get up oeiore ciuyngnt 10morrow
morning and have one good
.swim in the surf."
She supposed, when she came out the
next day, in her dark-blue bathing-suit
and the coarse straw hat tied clown
over her eyes, that she would have the
coast clear, but she was mistaken. Mr
McCorkindale was paddling, like a
giant porpoise, in a suit of scarlet and
gray, among the waves. lie had always
wanted to learn to swim, and
here was a most eligible opportunity.
" He don't see me," said Mattie, to
herself, as she crept cautiously down
in the -shadow ol' the rocks. " If he
did, I suppose he would issue a proclamation
that the whole seashore belonged
to him. But I hope there is
room enough for us both in ihe Atlantic
ocean."
And Miss Milfoil struck out scientifically,
gliding through the waves
like a new variety of fish, with dark
blue scales, and straightway forgot
all about the troublesome old bachelor.
"It's very strange," said Mr. McCorkindale,
revolving around and
around, like a steam paddle-wheel.
"A log lloats, but I can't seem to
manage it without the help of my
arms and legs. I've always understood
that swimming was a very easy
business, but? Pouf?ah-h?wliust
?sh?sh! Help! help ! Pouf-f-f !
I'm drowning ! The undertow is carrying
me out and I can't help myself !
Whush-sb ! Oh ! ah! help ! he-e-e- i
help!"
And Mr. Corkindale's voice lost itself
in a bubbling cry, while the deaf
old fisherman upon the shore went on
whistling and mending his net and the
solitary individual who was picking up
| shells with his back toward the surf,
never dreaming but that the stout!
| gentleman was diving for his own j
j amusement.
But Mattie Milfoil, cleaving her way
steadily through the waves, perceived
in a moment that something was
wrong.
Mrs. Sweetclover fainted away when
I they laid the lxxirdcr on a pile of i
i blankets on her kitchen floor.
j She was one of those nervous ladies j
| who always faint away at the least j
provocation.
j But Mattie ftaa an ner senses aoout;
I lier; and, thanks to her courage and j
j presence of mind, Mr. McCorkindale's
I life was saved.
"What is that rattling on the
: stairs?" he feebly inquired, as he sat
I up the next day in an easy-chair, with
i a curious sensation, as if a gigantic
j bumble-bee was buzzing in his head
; and cataracts pouring through his
I ears.
j "It's Miss Milfoil's trunk going
j away," said Mrs. Sweetclover, with a
! sniff of involuntary regret.
"Tell her not to go." said Mr.
I McCorkindide.
"Sir!" said Mrs. Sweetclover.
" Do you think I'm going to turn
! the woman who saved my life out of
{ doors?" puffed Mr. McCorkindale.
f "But I thought you objected to
women." said Mattie's cheerful voice
outside the dour.
" I've changed my mind," said Mr.
McCorkindale, with :i lettering semblance
of a smile. A man is never too
old to learn. And I mean to learn to
swim next week, if you will ivaeh me." j
lit.- did learn. Miss Milfoil taught
him. And the old bachelor and theI
maid spent their month at the sesiside, j
to use Mrs. Sweet clover's expression, j
* ;ls <|idet as two lambs."
" I declare, Mr. McUorkmaale pen- ]
siv.'ly <>1 Served, on the afternoon be-j
v.rt- his term was up, " I shall be very j
lonely after I leave liere!"
"You'll bo going back to the city,
vou know," cheerfully observed Miss
Milfoil.
" But I shall miss you !" said the i
bachelor.
" Nonsense!" said Mattie.
"I wonder if you will miss me?"
said Mr. McCorkindale.
" Well?a little," owned Miss Milfoil.
" Did you never think of marrying,
Mattie V" abruptly demanded Mr. Me- j
Corkindale. .?
" Very often," she answered, calmly, j
"And how is it that you never have j
married?"
limorhprl
" Because I never found the right I
one," she said.
"Just my reason, exactly!" said Mr. I
McCorkindale. "But I think I have!
found her at last?and it's you, Mat-1
tie r
" Is it'?" said Miss Milfoil, coloring j
and smiling.
" Don't you tliink, if you were to try '
me, I might suit you?as a husband?" 1
he asked, persuasively.
" I don't know," whispered Mattie. j
" Try me !" said Mr. McCorkindale,
taking her hand in his, and she did |
not draw it away.
IIow brief a time will sometimes j
suffice to turn the current of a lifetime
! That month at Seafoam lodge j
made all the difference in the world to
Mr. and Mrs. McCorkindale.
An Odd Liuic industry.
The manufacture of the oil of wintergreen
has some interesting features
?in fact, nothing from a shoe peg to a
locomotive is without details of more
or less interest to all readers. Just at
this time, says a recent issue of the
Providence Journal, the essence of
wintergreen is very high?as high as
three dollars a pound. The oil of wintergreen
comes chiefly from Xew York
State and from Pennsylvania, where
the wintergreen vine and birch trees
grow in abundance. "Wintergreen is
a plant common to nearly all parts of
the country, but not in every part do j
the inhabitants thereof make the oil !
of wintergreen. The makers of win- i
tergreen essence are under the sur- j
veillance of the government.
'Plm nil ic from winter- I
green when winter green is abun- J
(lant. If it is not plenty, birch;
is used. The plant of an oilmaker 1
consists of a furnace made of rough j
stones, a boiler, a tin pipe, a trough, a i
barrel and a running brook. The tin !
pipe leads from the top of the boiler j
through the water in the trough to a j
barrel. Under the end of the pipe is
placed a barrel and on the end of the
pipe in the barrel is hung a glass jar.
The boiler is filled with watef and
birch bark and wintergreen twigs. A
fire is built, the steam is forced through
the tin pipe, and is condensed by the
pipes passing through the water in the
trough. The oil of wintergreen and
the water fall into the glass jar, but
the oil being heavier than the water
goes to the bottom of the jar, while
the water runs over into the barrel
and is used again.
The business is carried on in certain
seasons both day and night, as the pot'
must be Kept uoinng. me men who
work at this business make their homes ;
during the season in the forest or field ,
wherever the birch or wintergreen is j
to be found. They enjoy an all-season '
picnic unless the internal revenue collector
" drops down" upon them, as he
has done upon many, and collects j
thirty-six dollars for every still-like ap- j
paratus he linds. It is supposed that
some of the rude affairs for condensing,
which the government calls stills,
are so concealed in the forest that the
collector does not find them. The
monnfiptiirnrs dtanose of it (the Oil")
1' " - V ,
to apothecaries for about two dollars a
pound, who, after diluting with alcohol,
sell it to confectioners and others
at the usual apothecaries' prolits.
i
The Old 3Ian?s Fish Story. j
' " i used to know a lot of stories |
about animals and things," said the j
old man, dropping a Nevada paper j
and regarding the exchange editor j
earnestly. "Some of 'em was quite i
curi's and interestm'," and he leaned !
back in his chair and joined his finger j
tips meditatively.
"Animals do some very strange
things," assented the exchange editor.
" Which reminds me of my roan
mare," continued the old man. "I
think that roan mare know'd more'n
a hired girl. She had a tail that
reached the ground, and you ought to
seen that mare catch trout."
" IIow did she do it?" asked the exchange
editor, brightening up.
" Well, sir, she'd back up to the
stream and flip her tail in the water,
and out they'd come. Sometimes the
air would jest be full o' trout, and the
old mare a-fishin' and that tail flyin'
around landin' the biggest fish ye ever
eon. Oh, she was old Sagacity! Once
man stood watchin' her and dodgin'
^ he fish, and all of' a suddint he referred
to one as a speckled beauty.
That roan mare jest turned around
i l.: j.?.i i.;~
HilU AlUivt'li 1113 Ultimo wuu.
" Served liim right!" commented the j
exchange editor, energetically.
" J>ut she died," sighed the old man.
" How did that happen?"
" The trout fixed it up on her. One
day about p. gross of 'em got hold of
her tail at once and hauled her in. She
made it pretty lively for'em, and when
she went under a good many fish came
to the surface laughin'!"
" How does a fish look when he's
laughing?" asked the exchange editor.
" Didn't you ever see a fish laugh ?
He has to turn on his back to do it,
'cause the corner of his mouth is
turned down. When he flops over they
turn up, you see, and that makes him j
laugh. Them fish what come to the
surface was mostly on their backs!"?
Brooklyn Eagle.
largest Farms in the World.
The Canadians are not to be outdone
by their neighbors south of the line in
the matter of large farms. The Toronto
Globe gives an account of an enterprise
that surpasses in magnitude anything
that has been undertaken in this
country. It says:
: The mammoth farm of the North- j
! west is owned and operated by the j
Qu'Appelle Valley Farming company.!
It comprises a tract ten miles square, j
which, aftt-r deducting the Hudson j
Bay company's sections ana tne see'
tions allotted for school purposes, leaves
a lifty-six-thousand-acre farm, the
largest farm in the world, owned by
i one company in one block.
ED1TI3S I>' ARIZONA.
i
The PIcnsnivs ol* Cowboy C'rif tcism*.
Mr. John i\ Clum, until recently the j
editor of the Tombstone (Ariz.) Epitaph,
was in Washington recently, .aid >
told a Post reporter a highly interest-:
ing story of a personal adventure, |
from which it would appear that, next j
to running a faro bank, editingapaper !
in tho uncivilized portions of the West
is about as dangerous an undertaking :
as a man can well engage in. He j
went to New Mexico in 1871* and in i
it)?< :
J.O<t \\ U5 a|?p<>lJll/CU Xliiliitll Iimm 1U1
the Apache tribe at San Caries, Ari- j
zona. In May, 1880, Mr. Clum estab- j
lished the Tombstone Epitaph as a
"weekly. It is now a flourishing daily,
lie was first made postmaster ;ind j
afterward mayor. As a postmaster he '
had a hard time of it, but as the chief j
magistrate of the village, brought
as lie was, into almost daily contact
with the rougher and most desperate
elements, he grew accustomed to write
his editorials in sijrht of his trusty
vV-lt's six-shooter. In attempting to
preserve ordfr he made enemies of the
cowboys. This was the first step in a
long and pr?slra"tod warfare which
lasted off on for more than six
months. First, there occurred a drawn
battle nt midday, between Mr. Clum's
chief of police and three officers, and
four cowboys. Three of the officers
were badly injured, and three cowboys
killed outright. Th? fourth, who ha})
penea not to oe arm en, ran away ami i
escaped. After this a citizen's committee
was formed and paraded the
streets day anil night, armed with six- |
shooters, needle-guns and Ilenry rifles.
Mr. C'um assailed the cowboys
vigorously through the columns j
of the Epitaph, and every time one !
was brought before him as a magis-j
trate he imposed heavy fines. Then j
the cowboys lay in wait for Mr. Clum,
until he was compelled to go heavily !
armed, and dared not stay out after i
nightfall without being attended by a
body-guard. Every editorial added
new fuel to the flame. The cowboys
rode into town by night and tried to
waylay the editor as he went to the
oftice in the morning. Luckily he escaped
all their bullets.
Every ordinary plan failing, the
emvbovs bandp.il together, and camn
" " "V "" """ " O " ' A
ing a few miles beyond Tombstone, in
a deep and wild canon, signed a death'shead
agreement to kill Mr. Clum
with pens dipped in blood taken from
a convict's arm, and afterward drank
from a cup of warm blood, diluted
with pure spring water. This
came to his ears,- and he
bought another six-shooter and
another Ilenry rifie, and never wentout
into the street without being ac
compauied by several members of his
police force. The chief of police was
shot at and nearly killed one night.
Things were getting very desperate
indeed, and the Epitaph had great
difficulty in getting out without the
death of a compositor or an adventurous
newsboy. Mr. Clum slept in a
room guarded by men armed to the
teeth. He did not remove his clothes,
but kept his gun and pistol where he
could lay his hands on them instant1}-.
Life was now becoming such a decided
burden that he determined to :
pull up stakes and move to some place i
wnere me siioigiuj. piayeu a icx> constant
part in the progress of civilization
and the maintenance of the press.
To leave was, however, not an easy
thing to do, for the cowboys, suspecting
some such move, had laid their
plans accordingly, and were pasted
around the outskirts of the town in the
bushes, ready to shoot him as soon as
he appeared. <
Mr. Clum determined to reach
Tucson at any cost, and one dark night
about 8 o'clock got in a stage coach :
and drove out into the prairie. It was
bitter cold, the horses were g;illojung j
along in the darkness and snow, and
Mr. Clum was sleeping uneasily, muffled
up in his overcoat in the bottom
of the coach, dreaming of the good
things in store for an editor when he
gets to heaven, when a loud voice outside
cried " Halt!" He jumped to his i
feet, and the horses suddenly renrei j
back and stopped.
The order to halt and the commencement
of the firing were simultaneous.
To the command " Hold up!" the driver
rocrvnrirlpfl " All rirrht. " but. the shots
frightened the horses and they broke
into a run. After running about a mile
one of the horses fell dead, and the
coach stopped. Upon examination i.t
was found that the horse was fatally
shot. While this horse was being ci.t
out of the traces Mr. Clum stepped to
one side of the road to listen, as a second
approach of the assailants was
feared. Believing that the purpose of
the attack was to kill him, he decided
to leave the coach and take liis chances
on foot, as he saw he had no show of
making a fight in the coach. He j
walked to the Grand Central Mill, j
about seven miles distant, where lie
was kindly provided for. After a sleep
of two hours he started on horseback
for Benson, arriving there without any
further trouble. From there he proceeded
to Tucson, and immediately left
for the East. Mr. Clum has sold his !
paper and will probably not return to
Tombstone.
An Old Town.
H Sieia, on me mo urauuc, nvavc
miles below El Paso, is the county seat
of El Paso county, Texas, has a population
of about 2,500, and is one of the
most interesting places in the world.
It is interesting from its great antiquity
and the peculiarity of its
people, its architecture, its agriculture
and its products. An exchange says
that it is far fhe oldest town in Texas
and tlier , can be little doubt that it is
also the oldest in the United States.
It is said to be a well-established fact
that a Spanish explorer or military adventurer,
named Coronado, visited the
place in 1540, and found it then a pros- j
perous civilized Indian community, j
He was immediately followed by the
Franciscan friars, who erected a church j
and established schools the same year. ;
These facts are said to be just as easily j
proved as any other facts in history. |
Now, if Ysleta was a prosperous town i
in 1540, it follows, without a doubt, j
that it was a town oeiore mat unie, i
and it may have been a town even |
hundreds of years before. The same !
race of people exists there to-day just |
as pure-blooded, for the most part, as !
when Coronade found them 342 years
ago, engaged in the same agricultural
and mechanical pursuits as their forefathers
in ages back.
Editors are continually bothered by i
the applications of people who wish
"to have inserted in your valuable
paper" notices of the comings-out and
rrr,;no-c.in tK<? rlmvnsitlinfS and UD
risings of persons of whom they never j
heard, and in whom there is reason to |
believe the general public takes but a |
languid interest. If he declines to j
publish the item of personal intelli-;
gence that is offered him he is there-1
after abused by the individual who ten
ders it, while if he prints it he knows i
very well that he is throwing away
valuable space. How to avoid such
consequences is a problem over which
many editors have grown gray without
solving it.?Boston Journal.
NEWSPAPER ADVERTISING.
Its Advantages aa -Set Forth by Some Leading
Business Houses Who Are Large Advert
iacr*.
The following paragraphs are the
opinions of some leading American
lousiness houses who 'have been large
advertisers upon the benefits derived
from advertising in newspapers :
" We beheve in printer's ink. Advertise
in the best newspapers largely
and well, and returns! are sure. The
stronger the advertising, the larger
the returns."
" Without the aid of advertising I
could have done nothing in my enterprises.
I have the most complete faith
in printer's ink. Advertising is the
royal road to business"
" We have tried almost every sort of
medium in advertising, and long ago
became convinced that the results
were largely in favor of the fresh and
varied columns of the newspaper."
" An experience of many years has
demonstrated to us the great value
and benefit derived from carefully prepared
and properly displayed advertisements
in well-established, influential
newspapers."
"Money may be thrown away in advertisements
;is easiK^ ia any. other
way. Success depend .? -~n the selection
of proper mediurr^ and persistency."
The best medium in ('Air judgment is a
good newspaper."
" According to the character and extent
of vour business, set aside a lib
eral percentage for advertising, and do
not hesitate to keep 'yourself unceasingly
before the public. It matters not
what business of utility you may be
engaged in, for if intelligently and industriously
pursued a fortune will be
the result."
"In no department of business is
there probably so much money wasted
as in advertising, aful in no department
are good judgment and experience
more requisite. Twenty-five years'
experience has cleasiy demonstrated
the superior advantages and economy
of newspaper advertising over all
other mediums offerijd for that purpose."
" If what you have to say be strictly
true say it' in a goo& newspaper. Its
readers are intelligent, will appreciate
a bargain, and of every such customer
you make an advertiser. For forty-seven
years nine-tenths of our advertising
has been done on this plan, and of the
whole expenditure all that we regret
is contained in the other tenth."
" The policy of every man in business,
and who must live by the public,
should be to let the public hear of him.
His best speaking-trumpet is the news
paper advertisement, jui a pupiuuus
community and a rapid age like this,
every trader must make himself heard
and known, otherwise he will fall behind
the progress of' his neighbors.'*
"Of all the methods open to the
merchant for advertising his business,
an experience of nearly half a century
enables us to unhesitatingly declare in
favor of the newspaper. It is, without
exception, the most economical,
persistent, painstaking and successful
canvasser any business firm can secure
for the purpose of bringing their
goods to the attention _ of the conclave
what the-^nblie want, Sell
it with moderate & i ^"selargely
in first-class newjfp^SiTTw.^,
you are bound to do.a trade. Let tiieL
newspapers be theb^jst-youcan obtain,
no matter what the cost. It is but
natural that an advertiser must, in a
degree, share in, and thereby gain
from, the respect wliich a reader entertains
for an ably-conducted
lAiirnal "
JUUiUlU.
" An experience of many years has
convinced us of the great value and
benefit derived from carefully prepared
advertisements of such goods as are in
stock. Not overestimating their
quality or quantity, but conforming as
near as possible to their merits, and inserting
the same in influential newspapers,
handsomely displayed. We have
found the cost returned to us in increased
trade tenfold."
" During the last twenty years I have
spent thousands of dollars in advertising
in all the old and new-fangled
methods which arc daily set before persistent
advertisers, and have long been
satisfied that if a man tells the truth
in the newspapers he is sure to get
ample returns for his money."
"Publicity is money. This has
come to oe recognizeu as a principle in
business. Competition is so keen, and
we live in such busy times that a man's
only chance of success lies in proclaiming
the merits of his wares far and
wide, up and clown the market. lie
must keep a trumpeter, the public attention
must be arrested, and he who
best succeeds in this has the best
chance of making a fortune. In this
conviction every one of spirit advertises.
It is not sufficient to put a sign
over the dcor, signs must be sent out
far and wide, and people made to see
and remember them in spite of themselves."
Sulphur and Xalaria.
At a recent meeting of the Paris
Academy, M. d'Abbadie called attention
to some facts regarding marsh
fever. Some African elephant hunters
from rklat.enns with o.orrsnarativplv rool
r __v
climate brave the hottest and
most deleterious Ethiopian regions
with impunity, which
they attribute to their habit of
daily fumigation of the naked body
with sulphur. It is interesting to know
whether sulphurous emanations, received
involuntarily, have alike (ffect.
From inquiries made by M. Fouque,
it appears that in Sicily, while
most of the sulphur mines are in higli
districts and free from malaria, a few
are at a loy level, where intermittent
fever prevails. In the latter districts,
while the population of the neighboring
villages is attacked by fever in the
proportion of ninety per cent., the
workmen in the sulphur mines suffer
much less, not more than eight or nine
per cent, being attacked. Again, on a
marshy plain near the roadstead in the
island of Milo (Grecian archipelago,")
i: is hardly possible to spend a night
without being attacked by intermittent
fsver, yet on the very fertile part near
the mountains are the ruins of a large
and prosperous town, Zephyria,
which, 300 years ago, numbered
about 40,000 inhabitants- Owing to
the ravages of marsh fever the place
is now nearly deserted. This change
was brought about by the transfer of
sulphur mining in the neighborhood to
the opposite side of a mountain range.
The decadence of Zephyria has nearly
corresponded to th;"s transference. The
sulphurous emanations no longer reach
the place, their passage being blocked
by the mountain mass. Again, on the
west side of the marshy and fever
? ' -? * - * r* .j.? _ j_ j i
mresiea piam 01 v^axania, traverseu uv
the Simeto, is a sulphur mine, and beyond
it, at a higher level, a village
which was abandoned in the early part
of this century because of marsh feverYet
there is a colony of workmen living
about the mine, and they seem to
be advantageously affected by the emanations.
It is calculated that there are 250,000,000,000
of matches made yearly in
England and France and 40,000,000,000
made in the United States.
' A.
Scientific Hanging.
Dr. G. M. Hammond, of New York,
h :i rec.-nt communication to the Medit:l
lb cord, on the proper method of
Kecuting the sentence of deatli hv
fianging. cites a number of authorities
nnd cases, all going to show that the
practice of jerking the body by the
neck with a view to dislocation, is
wrong, useless and barbarous. lie
r-ays:
In hanging, death takes place either
by asphyxia or apoplexy, or both. As
Taylor remarks, if the cord is loose or
applied too high up on the neck, a
small quantity of air may still reach
the lunits. and life will be prolonged
c? - ?
till the slower death by apoplexy takes
place. The main object of the executioner
should be to adjust the noose in
such a manner as to close the windpipe
at once, so as to produce immediate
asphyxia. Usually, both apoplexy
and asphyxia result if the execution is
properly accomplished.
According to ltemer, of eighty-three
cases of death by hanging, nine were
apoplexV, six by asphyxia, and in sixtyeight
both conditions existed. Of
eighty-five cases collected by Casper, in
nine there was apoplexy, in fourteen
asphyxia, and in sixty-two both conditions.
My own experience was somewhat
similar to that obtained by other observers,
except in the fact that strangulation
was not carried to that point at J
which respiration ceases entirely. My
object was more particularly to de-1
monstrate the painlessness of the ope- j
ration than to show the existence of ,
any new sensations. With the assistance
of two medical friends I was partially
strangled in the following manner:
After being placed in a sitting position
in a chair, a towel was passed
around my neck and the ends twisted
COgetner. ui course wiui every uwiso
of the towel very forcible compression
was made on the entire circumference
of the neck. One of my friends was
intrusted with tiie operation of twisting
the towel, while the other was stationed
in front of me in order that he
might watch my face, and at the same
time make the necessary tests of the
cessation of sensibility.
My sensations from the first twist of
the towel may be briefly stated as follows:
I first noticed a sensation of
warmth and tingling, beginning in the
feet and quickly passing over the entire
body; vision partially disappeared,
but there was no appearance of any
colored lights. My head felt as if
about to burst, and there was a confused
roaring in the ears, such as is
heard when the ear is placed against
the opening of a shell. I suffered no
loss of consciousness, and was fully
able to tell my friend whether I felt
nnv nm'n from the knife thrusts he was
inflicting upon my hand. In one minute
and twenty seconds from the commencement
of the operation all sensibility
was abolished. After a few minutes'
rest, a second trial was made in
the same manner as before. This was
followed by symptoms similar in char
acter to those mentioned In the first
attempt, except that sensibility ceased
in fifty-five seconds. A stab with a
knife sufficiently deep to draw blood
was indicative of no sensation whatever.
^Taking into consideration my own
T^Trtoms and the accounts of those
? r^bed in this
paper, it is obvioiS~tiiat^tsS%mp&'
and orderly way to execute the law in
the case of a person condemned to
death by hanging, is not to let him fall
or to jerk him into the air, but to
stand him on the ground or a suitable
platform, and to adjust the noose carefully
around his neck below the
larynx. If he is made to fall through
a trap or is lifted suddenly from the
ground, this important end can nevrr
Via loenrflfl 'Phi* 1C 01 TO
H/U OOOUXVUt XiJV At. '\/tJV IMAAANSMW v\ ? tain
to become displaced, and hence
death is not so sudden as it ought
to be. Having arranged the noose
properly, the condemned person
should be raised from the place
on which lie is standing by
pulling on the rope, which
should pass over a pulley fixed to a
beam above, and he should be allowed
to hang for thirty minutes. The rone
should be soft and llexible, so as to fit
closely to the neck. Probably one of
cotton or llax would be preferable to
the hempen cerd usually employed.
Carried out in this manner, an execution
by hanging will be effectually and
mercifully performed. The condemned
would undergo no physical or mental
suffering from the moment the suspension
began, and his life would be
taken as speedily and with as much
freedom from horrible events as the
mrmmKnnr? nf t.lm nnsn WfYillrl allnw
Imagination's Potent Spell.
A well-preserved country couple
from Maine recently paid a visit to the
great metropolis and registered at one
of the big hotels. The splendor of the
house and its appointments, the electric
lights, the constant strear^ of
well-dressed people coming and going,
filled them with wonder and amazement.
When they retired in the evening?at
an early hour, as usual?the
magnificence of their apartment, and
the soft light stealing in at the transom,
would not suffer them to sleep.
After tossing about restlessly for some
time the good dame prevailed upon
her spouse to rise and pin a black
shawl over the transom. Darkness
thus insured, they drew their nightcaps
close and settled down to woo the
coy goddess of sleep. After fifteen
minutes of enforced silence the old
lady punched her husband violently:
"I can't sleep, Jedediah, it's so close
in here. Won't you get up and open
the window?"
Jedediah meekly arose, and groping
his way to what he supposed was the
window, tagged and grunted at the
sash for a few minutes. " 'Tain'tmade
to open, Sary," he declared at length,
stumbling back to bod.
"Yes it is, too," she insisted; "I
know'tis. You just go back and hist
for all you're worth. I'm most stilled."
Back went Jedediah, and lifted and
pulled till his joints cracked like distant
artillery. "'Tain't no use," he
cried; " there's no hist to it."
"Wall, then," said his better half, by
this time driven almost to distraction,
and gasping painfully for breath, "you
must bust tlie thing in; l can't stanc
it any longer."
The tone of desperation in which she
%poke showed that expostulation would
be useless. Jedediah groped around
till he found one of his boots, ;;n I
presently followed the welcome sound
of crashing glass.
" Oh, how refreshing that is!"
sighed the old lady, drawing a succession
of deep, grateful breaths.
.Jedediah crawled back into bed, and
presently the venerable couple slept
the sleep of the just.
They awoke promptly at 0 o'clock in
the morning, and arose to dress themselves.
Upon one side of the room
stood a handsome book-case. On tlio
ragged edge of its shattered glass-front
hung Jededialfs boot. The windowwas
intact. Jedediah looked at Sand!
and Sarah looked at .Tedwliah; and
they both said: " Wall, I never !"
To <ret ud a dinner of jrri-at variety,
j o x ->
j cooks should be allowed a wide range.
THANKSGIVING DAY.
' A Festival With a History ?Origin of the
Day.
; It is interesting to trace the history j
j of Thanksgiving Day in this country.;
I Its origin dates back to those sad but
j grand old times when the Puritan
j fathers sought liberty of conscience on
the sterile shores of 2s ew England.
Stricken down by disease, which in a
few short months reduced the original
colony of one hundred and two memj
bers to nearly one-half, and their first
; crops proving a failure on account of
j the excessive drought, the opening of
| the second winter threatened them
i with starvation. Their scanty store or
! provisions soon became exhausted. A
day of fasting was ordered. At this
juncture fortunatel^two ships arrived
from the' old world bringing relief. Instead
of a day of fasting
there was a day of thanksgiving.
It is true they had but little to
be thankful for. Savage Indians hung
about the little colony, threatening
them with death. The soil yielded
but small return for their labors.
Mighty forests encompassed them,
whose mazes they did not dare to penetrate
in the face of their harassing
enemies. But despite-a& this their+t<y ;
liverance from death and starvati- ~
was deemed worthy of special thanJcV
giving. They were grateful amid theiry
privations and long protracted warfare
against want, for having their lives
reared and still being permitted that
freedom of worship to obtain which
they had willingly encountered so many
sacrifices. Their heroic spirits never
for a moment succumbed. With their
prayers of thanksgiving were mingled
the same indomitable resolves to give
permanency to the great principles in- |
ducing their settlement in a new and j
untried world. This was over two1
hundred and fifty years ago.
With the growing success of the
Plymouth colony and the extension of
the settlements gradually over the Xew
England States and the pervading
dominancy of its code of faith Thanksgiving
day soon became a feature of
early New England life. It remained
local in ifs character for many years.
As the people of these States migrated
elsewhere the custom went with them,
till now nowhere can an American be
found who does not feel it to be his
solemn duty as well as privilege to observe
this great national holiday. And
what a contrast between its celebration
now and then I The first was celebrated
by fifty people on the threshold
of a new life. It is now celebrated by j
fifty millions of people, making up a '
nation whose stride in the path of pro- i
gress and prosperity has been unex- j
ampled in national history. Following I
the record of past events many occa- i
sions are called to mind when days!
were set apart for special thanksgiving.
When the men of Boston drove
Sir Edmund Andros, with his tyrannous
government, out of the country
special thanks were uttered that despotism
had failed and freedom's star
was in the ascendant. Nearly a century
later, when peace was declared
with France and the hostile tribes set
on by French emissaries, there was another
day of thanksgiving. The surrender
of General Burgoync was made
the occasion of a like manifestation of
public gratitude, this last day of thanksgiving
being ordered by the Continental
Congress. In the succeeding, year.
giving by the army ivas ordered by :
General -Washington, and no doubt beyond
the patriot band of Revolutionary
soldiers extended this spirit of
thanksgiving. While President of the
United States General Washington had
two days set apart for thanksgiving?
one in 1789 and one in 1792. The ex-1
ample thus set by our first President in I
designating special days of thanksgiving
has now happily become a general
custom with his successors. Meantime
the fact is worthy of mention that the
people of New Netherlands were not
unmindful of occiisions when it was
thought their duty to express also
their grateful acknowledgment of
divine favor shown them. This they
did in 1645 and 1657.
As already stated, in course of time i
it became the custom for governors of i
different States to set apart a certain j
day in each year for thanksgiving. At;
present, as is well known, the procla-..
mation of the President and the day
armointed bv him are accented bv the !
j governors of all the States. The 'lay j
is thus made one of general observance j
throughout the country. The first ap- j
pointment of a day of thanksgiving in !
this State was by Governor George!
Clinton, the day selected by him beingThursday,
Xovember 28, 1782. Thir- j
teen years elapsed, and then Governor
John Jay set apart for the same purpose
Thursday, November 20, 1705. j
There was not another generai thanksgiving
in this until twenty years
later, when Thursday, April 1-3, *1815, j
was designated i>y Governor D. P. j
Tompkins. Two years after this Gov
ernor BeAVitt Clinton appointed a
tlinnkstnvino- <lav and from that time
I o o w
j until the present each successive gov!
enior has issued a thanksgiving proelai
mation. During the years 1819, 1820
j and 1821 Wednesday was the day
i selected. The same selection was made
I in 1827. Prior to 184G most of the
time it was in the month of December, i
| but since that year, with the exception !
j of 1850, when Governor Hamilton Fish i
selected December 12 as the day, it has '
been confined to the latter part of Xo- i
vember and with no deviation from '
Thursday. Of course, it is well under-!
stood that the fall of the year was and j
is still selected as the most appropriate !
season of the year for the observance, '
the crops being then all gathered and
; the turkeys having reached an adult
j age.?New York IleroM.
Married in Prcscncc of Royalty,
j An Indian youth and maiden belong
111J? CU UUVJ *JL Lilt: iu?>wO *?1 i/iiwi.n. V WA
umhia who had intended to postpone
their marriage until such time as the
instructions of their missionary should
have fitted them to go through the :
c?remonv after the manner of Chris-;
thins, changed their minds when the
Princess Louise arrived in their settlement.
It was their ardent desire to he
Slurried in the presence of their "groat.
white mother's daughter," and the:
princess cheerfully acquiesced. The
friends of the contracting parties were
arranged in two long rows facing caeh
I other, the chiefs, the hride and groom
and the nearest relatives occupying a
cross seat at the head of the two rows.
The father of the hride made an address,
in the course of which he said
| that lie was giving his daughter to the.:
young man and that thereafter she
! would be the same as dead to him.
I Thereupon ;i large dish was placed
! upon the ground, into which the l'rienas 1
j of the giMiiin ca:t mo:i >y to compensate
the old man f<-r hi.; ioss. This
; solatory offering ?i:-?*i!pioi! ?or:i*
time, and wlm t!: -emit v;:?.; male
| the dish was feat; i to contain
, The ceremony er. i-.l ?vJi:j a JVast.
In the fifty year., tr i >;0 t > IS-SO
! the amount- of money invested in e<?:.
t<>n manufactures in tin- I'nilv.l State.;
j increased from t;s jfti'J-V
j <.H.H>.(M.?->. and the hales eon.;un:ed ir ?n
i rJi.o'JO to 2,000.1X10:
How P af Mutes Arc Taught.
The Rhode Island school for deaf
mutes is located at Providence, and is
presided over by three ladies, the principal
being Katlierine II. Austin. The
pupils are taught lip-reading and ar- !
ticulation, and the Providence Press j
says it is really wonderful to observe i
how proficient in the first-named ac- I
complishment some of the unfortun- !
ates are. For instance, one young
lady, a member of one of the first
iamnies m mat cny, is repubeu lo uesu i
expert in lip-reading as to understand
and fully appreciate theatrical performances,
lectures, etc. Instruction
in the art of speaking is, of course,
very difiicult and trying, but it is accomplished,
and the dumb are learing
to talk. A Providence paper tells how
the work is carried on:
In Miss Kerr's room are six or eight
little .ones bereft of hearing, who have
been sent to school to learn to talk. In
tliis room the pupils are taught that by
exhaling the breath, coupling this
action with the contraction of the
muscles of the chest, throat and mouth,
certain vibrations are made. The
instructor gives examples of this, and
demonstrates to then! how the aspirates
are made,; placing th*ir hands before
mouth to let them see how the air
expelled therefrom, at the same time
-Writing on the blackboard the characj
_ i-*-~ ~ eV\A 1
ters representing tuu suuuuo oug u<xj i
mades. Tlie initiatory lessons include j
"p" and "f." The little ones are encouraged
to make a sound, and when
the correct one is given they are informed
of the fact by means of the
sign langnage, so that they quite
readily respond when asked to repeat
it. Following this the letters "m,"
"n," "u" are drilled upon, and when
learned the combinations mu, muff,
fum are begun upon. Slowly the
pupils proceed in the lessons,
mastering th, the, thum, pump, shoe,
mow, spoon, lamb, pit, pot, etc., until
118 characters and combinations have
been learned. In this list are included
many difficult combinations,
such as vef, vif, vof, vuf, vaf, tliut,
thot, that, tliet, thit, duth, doth, noth,
dath,- nuth, deth, neth, nith, show,
shen, shin, shef, shof, shif, shaf, sheth
and shith. In writing these words on
the blackboard the teacher resorts to
phonetic spelling, which is far less
likely to mislead the children than correct
spelling. In tliis room, too, the
rti.n/iron ore orimn Ipssnns in the kind
Vi V-AA ui. v > v? ??
ergarten system, such as matching
colors and putting together "dissected
" animals. It was by the use
of these cards that one little one,
groping in darkness, was led into the
bright light of learning.^ All else
failed, or seemed to fail, to reach her
mind, but she gradually began to
match the colors, and from that little
steppir.g-stone she strode onward toward
the desired goaL
Animals in Norway.
A correspondent makes the following
remarks on a very pleasant feature
ol' the -SI onvegian character, viz., kindness
to domestic animals. In that
country, he says, these animals are
treated as the friends rather than the
slaves of man." As a result, vicious
horses are unknown; foals follow their
dams at work in the fields or on the
road as soon as they have sufficient
strength, and thus gen^^_accust.omi
^themselves tp iianiess, ?^SB8SSe^H
loaTc^SSgvoiQirCg'Kuiiwua1 ruw%. - t.
in imitation of its mother. Horses are
trained to obey the voice rather than
the hand; bearing reins are not used,
and the whip, if carried at all, is hardly
ever made use of. Great care is taken
not to overload carts, especially in the
case of young horses, and consequently
a broken knee is rarely seen, and the
animals continue fat, in good condition,
and capable of work till the advanced
age of twenty-five or thirty.
So tame are the Norwegian horses and
cows that they will allow casual
passers-by to caress them while they
are lying down. Even domestic cats
will approach a boy with confidence,
knowing that no chasing or worrying
awaits them. One very hot summer's
day i met a woman holding up an umbrella
to carefully screen what I supposed
was a little child at her side
from the scorching rays of a midday
* M 1 ?? 1 ^-1 r*
Sllil, "VVilllG ner OW u ucau vv ao y ucu
only by a handkerchief. Id driving by
I tried to gain a glimpse of her charge,
and found, to my great surprise, that
the object of lier care was a fat,
black pig. The question of humane
methods of slaughtering animals has
lately been prominently brought forward
in England. In this the Norwegians
show us a good example; they
never use the knife without lirst stunning
the animal. In the above remarks
I am alluding to the country districts
of Norway; in the towns the national
characteristics become modified, although
even under these conditions
kindness to animals is still remarkable.
To those whose hearts are sickened by
the sights of cruelty daily witnessed in
our streets it must be a consolation to
learn that a country exists where these
tilings are unknown, where men are
instinctively considerate to the animals
dependent on them, and where no
legislation is required to enforce the
* * " .1 1. i
ci:i:;j)s ot my uumu ticaijiuu..??.?/?
Tunes.
Xot Accustomed to Strangers.
Professor James Bell, the Smithsonian
institution's agent, is a source of
frequent and startling surprises
to the natives. The average rural
Floridian is not much afraid of snakes,
encountered in the wild freedom of
the woods where, if the reptile will
not run the man can; but the professor
keeps the snakes in his room and about
the yard, in boxes and crates, in a
manner at once careless, familiar and
appalling. A countryman called upon
Professor Bell lately, and was a good
<;-al discomposed upon entering the
r.>:>in at seeing a iiuge rattlesnake
throw himself from a sofa pillow
which, evidently for his benefit, had
!>eon Hum: upon a chair, fall j
with ;i loud slap upon the
iloor, glide into :i corner, coil himself
up again, and, waving his head to
and fro, begin that uncanny buzz of
t h : tail dreaded by woodsmen, while
tli-? room became pervaded with the
heavy perfume of the reptile's musk, i
-Great jeeswax!" exclaimed the astounded
visitor. "Come in?; sit
dow n, ened the cordial snake-herder, '
handing his visitor the chair just vaCJitvil
by the rattlesnake. "Don't j
mind him, he is not used to strangers,
that's all." Then addressing the still
angry snake he cried in tones of in- j
dignant remonstrance: "Yuu! suh!
hush that fuss!" The reptile hushed, j
!.;;t hv> kept his weather eye on the j
stranger, and every time the uneasy j
visitor moved the snuke gave a warning
bir/.z with lii.s tail. But the visit j
did in?t last long.?Florida Times.
A maple tree one foot in diameter!
grows cut of a solid rock, three feet !
from the ground, on the farm of Judge j
IJron/ 'ii. o;'S ymour, Allegany county, j
. \ . A ( '(Wirniuu iiuuui uvu luuuca
! : juts from the trunk of the
1r?? ;i foot from the ground. It
i; a.; nourishing as any of the other j
i
The commonest of all Indian ants, M
or at any rate, the most conspicuous, - rM
are the black ones, to be found marauding
on every sideboard, and whose nor- ; - -' fM
mal state seems to be one of criminal
trespass. These, from tlieir size, are
perhaps also the most interesting, as it
requires little exertion to distinguish ^sj
between the classes of individuals that
in tiie aggregate make up a nest of ,
ants. There is the blustering soldier, :M
a policcman ant. wno goes aooui, wag- -;i
ging his great head or snapping his
jaws at nothing; furious exceedingly
when insulted; but, as a rule, preferring
to patrol in the shady neighborhoods?the
backwaters of life?where
he can peer idly into cracks and holes.
See him as he saunters up the path,
pretending to be on the lookout
for suspicious characters, stopping
strangers with impertinent inquiries,
leering at the modest wire-worm who
is hurrying home.
Watch him swaggering to meet a
friend whose beat ends at the corner
and with whom he will loiter for the
next hour. Suddenly a blossom falls
from the orange tree overhead. ?ts
display of energy is now terrific. He
dashes :ibout in all directions, jostles w
the foot passengers,'and then pretends
that they had attacked, him. He continually
loses his own balance and has
to scramble out of worm-holes and
dusty crevices, or he comes in collision f|
with a blade of grass, which he bravelv
turns up and utterly discomforts,
and then on a sudden, tail up, he whirls . ||
home to report at headquarters the recent
violent volcanic disturbance
which, being at his post, he was fortu- jM
Qately able to suppress. . V:.JI
Another and more numerous section 11
of the community of ants are the loaf- . "1
ers who spend lives of the most
laborious idleness. Instead of joining
the long thread of honest worker ants,
stretching from the nest to the next
garden, and busy importing food to
the nurseries, they hang about the ^ . J
doors and eke out a day spent in sham
industry by retiring at intervals to
perform an elaborate toilet. Between :?Jp
whiles the loafer affects a violent
energy. He makes a rush along
the "high road, jostling all the
laden returners, stops most of them to
ask commonplace questions or to wonder
idly at their burdens; and then, as
if struck by a bright idea, or the sudden
remembrance of something he had
forgotten, he turns sharp round and
rushes home?tumbling headlong into
the nest with an avalanche of rubbish
behind him, which it will take the
whole colony a long time to bring out M
again. The loafer, meanwhile, retires
to clean his legs. Sometimes, also, in. |jg|
order to be thought active and vigilant
he raises a false alarm of danger, and
skirmishes valiantly in the rear with -j>
an imaginary foe, a husk of corn-seed
or a tliistle-down. One such loafer
came, under my own observation, to a
miserable end. Thinking to be busy
chiefly he entered into combat with a
very small fly. But the small fly was
the unsuspected possessor of a powerful
sting, whereupon the unhappy
loafer, with his tail curled up to his
mouth, rolled about in agony until a ..
policeman catching sight of him, and .
seeing that he was either drunk, ||j
riotous or mcapaDie, nppea mm ,?.-:
into two pieces, and a "worker" ' S
happening to pass by carried him
th for 111 gMMiTwl j
^"e^^S^TiSuDl^or purpose and
an obstinate, unflagging industry.
The day breaks, the front door is
opened, and the honest ant ascends to
daylight. He finds that a passer-by ;;d||
has effaced the track along which he -
ran so often yesterday, but his memory
is good and natural landmarks abound. V
He casts about like a pigeon when first
thrown up in the air, and then he's-ftg^ .
Straight up the path to the little snag
of stone that is sticking out?up one
side of it down the other?over the
bank?through a forest of weeds?
round a lake of dew, and then, with 'M
an ordinary instinct for a straight line,
he goes whirling off across the cucumber-bed
to some far spot, where he v
knows is lying a stem of maize heavily
laden with grain. Then, with a
fraction of seed in his pincers,
he hurries home, hands it over
to the commissariat and is off
again ior auouier. iuiu. so, u. me gi<un
holds out, lie will go until sunset, and
the little fluffy, round-faced owls, sitting
on the sentinel cypress trees, aro
screeching an elicet to the lingering
day birds, the honest ant is busy
closing up his doors; and before the
mynas, passing overhead and calling as
they go to belated wanderers, have %
reached the bamboo clumps which
sough by the river, he will be sleeping
the sleep of the honest.
With industry, however, the catalogue
of the virtues of ants begins and
ends. They have an instinct of hard
work, and, useless or not, they do it?
mine most; lawriui o ?a? mcj uw,
but, except for the wisdom which industry
argues, ants have no title whatever
to the epithet of "wise." Until
they learn that to run up one side of ~
a post and down the other is not the
quickest way of getting down the post,
then can scarcely be accused of even
common sense.?From "Under the
Sim."
The Great Comet.
Professor H. A. Howe, of Denver,
lias computed the following as the elements
of the orbit of the great comet
of 188*2, referred to Washington time,
and the apparent eclipse and equinox
of September 30,1882:
Perihelion, passage September 16,9935 *. v~:
Perihelion point. 56 deg. 6m. 25s.
North node . 346 deg. 11m. 38s.
Inclination 142 d eg. 3m. 14s*.
Node to Perihelion 69 deg. 54m. 47a.
Logarithm of <j- 7*90516
Logarithm of e 9*99998
Tutting these figures into language
which is intelligible to the great mar - S
jority of our readers, we liave the lotlowing
points:
1. The comet passed within 750,000 "
miles from the sun's center, and only : .
about 300,000 miles from his apparent
2. The comet swings out into space
to a distance about ten times as great V .
as the distance of Xeptune from the
3. The period of revolution is fully
2,000 years. Therefore:
4. This comet is not the one of 1848;
5. There is no danger it will tumble
into the sun next year; or at any other '
time sufficiently near to cause a pang ;|||
of sorrow to any one now living.
G. We might also infer that, as two
An tT*io />Atn
V/i. luc * (twiv/iAo vu ?i iiivu i.in.i ?aii^i? . ^
putation is based were made after the
'^1
comet had left the immediate neighborhood
of the sun. its speed was not
materially lessened by friction during
the perihelion passage; and that, therefore,
the corona is not so dense at a
height of 300,000 miles above the solar
surface as has been rather wicte!y be^_^?
lieved in recent years.?Chicago Tr>~
Mr Bearden, aged 104 years, was V
recently married to Mrs. Lec, ageH
forty years, at Bibb, Ala. ' aW
m
The English apple crop was the
'worst in ten years;" that of Germany
and Belgium "very poor." ?/m
H
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