Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION WINNSBORO. S. 0.. FEBRUARY 15. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 XH* TWO FLKETS. The gun wag brlgbt and the aea waa bland. And ike tide danced lu aa merrily, W»?n a sailor pushed his boat from the Band; And the waves kept time with hla homely glee, For the Bailor hummed, “Two fleets there be: And one galls over the sun-lit waves, And one ilea under the sombre sea.” The sea was bland and the sun was br'-ht, And a favoring wind blew fresh and iree, And the leag uing sail disappeared from sight; But the old refrain still remained with me Which the sailor sang—“Two fleets there be: And one sails over the sun-lit waves, And one lies under the sombre sea.” 4 The tide danced out with the freight it bore; Ah, the tide came back soon smilingly, But the sailor’s boat never touched the shore; And I sing to -yself, for I cannot flee From the bannting strain, “Two fleets there be: And one sails over the sun-Ut waves, And one lies under the sombre sea.” So one by one from the shining world Th< fleet sails down to the dismal lee— To the fleet where every sail Is furled; And my heart keeps time to the mystic key, While I drift and sing, “Two fleets there be: And Ae sails over the sun-Ut waves, And one lies under the sombre sea.” So a little while and be who sings Shall hum no more his songs to thee; So they who watch hla sun-Ut wings Shall hear, perchance, when they cannot see The Ups which sing, “Two fleets there be: And one saUs over the sun-Ut waves, Aud one Ues under the sombre sea.” SIBYL SAKTOHYi* f«KlL One evening (1 think that it was the first night of the revival of “Romeo and Juliet” at the Lyceum) Jack Sar- toiys and his wife occupied a box there, which, after mnch difficulty, as he averred, Col. Dunkirque, of the ‘‘Heavies,” hud been fortunate enough to secure. As a general rule, CoL Dunkirque waa not iu the habit of pre senting first-night boxes to his friends unless he had some object to gain. Peo ple suggested that it was a ruse on his part to win Jack’s good graces—especi ally the smiles of Jack's wife ; but then people might have lied—they frequent ly do in such matters—and yet for once they were right. Dunkirque was a notorious Lovelace, as handsome a man as you would see anywhere—a man whose appearance was hailed with inward tribulation aud groaning by poor devils who had not the pluck to kick him out of their houses when his attentions grew too pronounce d. It was rumored, too, that his doings lately had been very shady—so shady that his friends (he had many friends) all predicted that he would speedily have to bolt from the impending clutches of those ministering fiends, Messrs. Hhylock & Co. SJibyi Sartery a was a very handsome woman—dangerously hanu-ome. She had masses of golden hair, which did uut owe its sunny time to some vile wash, arched red ups, sweet blue eyes, a soft white neck, and a complexion of dazzling fairness. In addition to these charms she possessed a knack of pleas ing people, when she chose to take the trouble, and was also very popular in her owu immediate circle. Jack bad fallen in love with her in his usual im pulsive, headlong manner ; but, for my owu part, I always thought her a trifle hard aud unsympathetic. There was sometimes a look in her sweet eyes uot entirely acquiescent when Jack had in timated something of which she disap proved. Having said what he wanted, Jack generally let her have her own way, and so the impending storm al ways blew over—for a time. She de manded absolute slavery fiom him, and accepted his devotion as a matter of course. Club friends, amusements, all had to give way to this little autociat’s imperious mandates ; aud poor Jack was spoiled for us. Yet he was very happy. In her sof ter moments, prejudiced as 1 was, could but admit the charm of her sweet, low voice, and the winning ejpe which could have lured a babe from us mother’s arms. But 1 olten imagined that her thoughtlessness would one day bring her to grief. She had such a superb contempt for the conventionalities. You and I, gentle reader, know better. We bow down aud worship Mrs. (irundy, as if we liked Uer; but do we ? 1 think uot. Dunkirque did despise the conven tionalities and decencies of life—nay he outraged them persistently. Hi had always some confidante to whom he unbosomed himself of his troubles with those freelanets, the money-lenders. Dipped as he was, he contrived to get through as much money as of old. ills horses and dinners were the best iu town—men eagerly sought to ride the one and to eat the other. I think Siby Sortorys alone knew how soou there would be neither—how quickly the bubble must burst and Dunkirque hide his diminished head for the rest of his days in some little tilth-rate continents town. Aud yet sL<. fancied that she loved him. Had he been prosperous, happy, gay, she would not have done so ; but a* he was going to the dogs it seemed to her as if she bad uo alterna tive but to accompany him. Who is it says that women always wreck themselves with their l/est im- polseq ? In person Dunkirque was tall and well-built, but there was an indefinable something iu his face which betrayet that he had not long to live, All the Dunkirques had died of consumption before tneir fortieth year, and the colo nel waa thirty-five. With this swori hanging oyer him, it was impossible not to teel sorry—at least the women thought ao—for his misspent life. Men were inclined to believe that he made the most of tbe situation, and posed for that effect. But then meu are such unfeeling beings ; they have uoue of the liner sympathies of their wives— their mission is to pay bills and be generally usefuL That evening things seemed to be approaching a climax—a deuced un pleasant, one too, for poor Jack, When Capulet said to the maskers. “1 Save sesntise day That I havs worn a visor, and could tell A whispering ule In a lur lady’s ear, Buck Aft would Please.^ Mrs. Hartorya eyes met Dunkii^ae’s, drooped in a half-shamefaced but atill tender way. It was not a look I should ke to see on the face of my wife, when talking with another man, though hav- i ing provided Jack with his first pony and piloted him across the country at the early age of seven, I tun looked upon &» an old fogy who is not entitled to express any direct opinion. Perhaps my ideas are rather old-fashioned— wholesomely so. Jack did not notice what was going on, He loved his wife too dearly even to dream of such infamy. It waa a delightful expenence to him to listen to the balcony scene, and to follow the hapless fortunes of the star-crossed lovers, although he could not help wish ing that the Romeo would be a little less intellectual and a trifle more im pressive with the lovely Juliet. Frac- tically his wite and Dunkirque'were alone ; Jack told me all this long after ward without attaching any importance to it, and 1 linked the fragments to gether. Half an hour later I stepped in. Jack whispered to me not to speak, and I was greeted by Mrs. Sartorys with the usual polite indifference a woman reserves for her husband. In short, it was not ten minutes before I had seen enough of the situation, and concluded to step outside for a lounge in the corridor. The glamour of the scene had not touch- ed my jaded senses. 1 could not help seeing a grimy stage carpenter up in the flies, and this naturally did away with all illusion. What an awful bote if the man had dropped his old wide awake upon the passionate lovers. The door opened (I was leaning against the next box) ; out came Mrs. Sartorys and Dunkirque, she shivering —in that hot atmosphere—and a trifle pale. Her eyes wore a frightened look; and—yes, she did seem inclined to cry. “We shall be just in time for the last rain,” she nervously whispered, “I told Jack that you would see me to my carriage, and he—be—is going to his club." ‘ So much the better,” replied Dun- kirque, hurriedly. “We shall not be missed until v e are across the channel!” I hate scenes; but it was necessary to do something. A little fellow whom had dandled on my knee, and loved like a son, must uot be duped in this shameful way. Dunkirque hurried pest me ; but 1 reached the staircase before Mrs. Sar torys reappearance, hooded and cloaked. God knows I never acted so promptly oefore in my life, and yet I have been in one or two tight places. There was But never mind. Let the “old man garrulous” oontinne his story. When Col. Dunkirque’s carriage was called the coachman drove up with his fur tippet nearly over his ears. The night was cold, aud Mrs. Sartorys trembled, half turned for a moment, then stepped in. She had crossed the tu Picon—and was lost I I wonder if she thonght at that mo ment of the little hands that were fol ded before her night and morn, as the ittle sleepy eyes were raised to hers, and Jack's children lisped out their usual prayer : God bless papa aud mamma and make us all dood. Amen !” do not believe that she could have thought of them, or else sue never would have been there. “Viaduct Statior,” called out the colonel, flinging the fellow one of fils few remaining half crowns—it. was the l ast desperate flight of the butterfly iu the sunshine. Afterward he would have time to repeat or to die in a gutter un shriven. In the madness of the mo ment he did not care which. The horses dashed forward into the darknet i, pulling well up to their col lars, but—they did not go to Viaduct Station ! Half an hour later, when they drew up, the colonel jumped out to assist Mrs. Sartorys to alight. She was trembling still, and half inclined to re turn. Already the dark shadows of the weary years to come were length ened out before her. And the man whose loye she waa about to betray 1 Well, it was now too late to recede. God knows she was sorry—most wo men are—when they are found out. ‘Sold 1” hissed the colonel, in his rage kicking a poor crossing-sweeper who had rushed up to open the qar- ringe door. “I waa only a-openin’ the door, whined the old mendicant. “D—n you I” fo amed the colonel you ale always opening doors when you’re not wanted. What the devil’s ihe> meaning of this ? Bat it is not too late. Not so fast, Dunkirque,” I said, swinging down from the box, the fui tippet still upon my shou’ders. “Wait a moment. Mrs. Sartorys”—for the benefit of the servants—“I have won my wager. The colonel betted I would never drive him anywhere with-out his knowing it. Let me take you into the house.” Mrs. Sartorys took my arm, and I led her up the steps. She did not apeak, but smiled strange ly and touched my hand. Then I turned to Dunkirque. “You are an infernal scoundrel I” I said, taking him on one side, “if yon choose to make a scene I’ll knock you down, old as I am. No; I shall not give you aatisfaetiou. Before you are off, let me warn you to beware of Soot- land Yard. That bill of Lavingstou’s has been placed in their hands, and the fo-gery traced to you.” This time ne really went to Viaduct Station, caught the hut train, and was seen no more. Then I returned to the house. “You have acted like—a—hero,” sob bed Mrs. Sartorys. “I can never re pay you.” There stood Jack smiling in the door way. She diet not see kirn. Ho must never know. “It was only a trifling service, and asked the irreverent Jack, when Mrs. Sartorys bad be^n safely disposed of in her room. “Jarvis—drunk—again—os usual” I murmured laconically (tbe lie cost me £500, and a free passage to the colonies for the irreproachable Jarvis and his family ; but it was not a dear price to pay for the happiness of one’s dearest friend ). I’ve di> charge the brute for you” “AH right,” said easy-going Jack, *TT1 get another.” And poor Jarvis was discharged. I do not think that Mrs. Sartorys slept much that night. Jack told me that she cried a good deal."“She seems to think that she had a narrow escape, old fellow,” Jack said unsuspiciously. “Yes.” I answered, “very.” But he never knew how narrow. Contusion Cautrd by Ladies’ Names. Why it was done we cannot say. quite a numb** or the streets of Austin have been named after females. Such names as Emma, Laura, Isabella stare at you in large letters from almost every comer. The Austin people, or some of them at least, have become tolerably fami iar with Maria, Jane, Susan and the rest, but strangers are liable to be come bewildered by this singular nom enclature, A gentleman irom Dallas, who had only a few hours to spend in our ‘city, wished to take a look at the new Oapitol, and not knowing where it was he made inquiry of the first man he met. “Can you tell me how I can find the new temporary Capitol?” “That’s easy enough. Are you Tamil- iar with Emma street?” “I am not. I have uo acquaintance with any lady of that name. There is a family by that name in Dallas, but lam not acquainted with them. Does Emma Street live near the new Capi tol?’' The A os lineman stared at the stranger for a moment, and then, pointing down Magnolia avenue, he said: “You see where Maria comes into the ayenue?’ The Dallas man looked m the direc tion pointed out, and perceiving a fat old negro woman with a big basket on her arm nodded his head in assent. “Well, you must take Maria until you get to the corner of Elizabeth, aud un til Peggy and Sarah come together, and then you will be all right.” “Look here, my friend, if you think I am that kind of a man because I oome from Dallas you are most confoundedly offi I want you to understand that I am a gentleman.” “1’ou dog-gasted idiot! ’ retorted the the Austin man, “if I was as bad off for brains as you are I would bore a hole in my empty skull aud hire a nigger to pour in ten cents’ worth of cheap oleomargarine." The Dallas man shook his first at the native, and said; “I’ve always heard that the State Lunatic Asy.um was too small to accom modate all the lunatics, but now I know it,” aud he moved off toward Esmeralda, while the other party leaned np against the corner of Ann and Matilda and glared after him as he disappeared in :ihe direction of Martha. Sondajr at Sea. The men before the mast mini bet ed forty-s’x, and were aj motley set, from nearly every quarter bf the globe. As their names were yet unknown, the mates called them out rapidly in turn, by some peculiarity they noticed iu them, “Step out here, you fatty!” “You fel low with the big jib* come here!” or the like. Including Captain Hammond and his wife, and three mates, the cook and steward and their assistants, the carpenter and his mate, and myself, we numbered fifty-eight souls on board destined to “share and share” alike whatever fate might have been in store for the good ship TArec Broth er», while she sailed her solitary course of eighteen thousand sales. A sailing-ohip bound across the seas win generally contrive to leavfport, as we did, on a Sunday. Sunday is a poor day in port, as no work? can be done in loading the vessels; if the cargo is all in on a Thursday, the ship will be de tained a day on some, pretext or other, in order to avoid sailing on the dreaded Friday. The following Sunday is em ployed in cleaning up the decks, and the crew take an account of stock, as they did on our first Sunday. All per formed unusual ablutions, and most of them dressed for the day and idled about in the snn, sleeping, mending their cloths, or chatting in the desultory manner in which a score or two of peo ple who had never known each other before, gradually find their affinities, and adjust themselves to the little world iu which they are to UVe together for a few mouths. The reckless, thriftless character of asai:or is the natural result of the life to which he is doomed. Going to sea before he has the remotest idea of what kind of a career life m the fore castle must inevitably be, he learns to live in the present, and that fact alone tends to produce recklessness. Every voyage separates him from those he likes and introduces him to a new set of beings, tossed in a half-hazard fashion in his path, ardfrom whemin afew weeks he is destined to seperate, and never to see them again. Any storm is likely to be his last; every times he goes aloft he is likely to fall to his death. Deep reflection on the character of his des tiny or the prospects of bettering Ids career can only in suggestions of suicide or despair. He is therefore, always like nn overgrown boy la l>i» a»in4, of feriug strange alterations of simplicity aud cunning: now tender as a woman, now callous and cruel as a tiger—a med ley of astounding contradictions of char acter, moved more by the impulse of the moment than by settled convictions and easily by a mind or a will stronger than his own. Peculiarities Of Statesmen. Making a PaSHenser “Git.” one which I was only too happy to ren der,” 1 said, bowing low. “You over rate it. A drunken servent is always dangerous’ “You have—saved—my—honor,” she was beginiag. “Hush 1” I said, “Jack must never know.” Then aloud : “You are hyster ical ; let me ring for your maid.” Between- us we got her out of the room. “What is it all about, old fellow f” A peculiarity of speech, of manner or of looks, has often been the making of public man. George Washington’s magnificent figure did much for him. Henry of Navarre’s white plume has caused him to be remembered even more than his valor. John Randolph’s squeak ing voice first attracted attention to him, Martin Yan Buren’s gold snuff-box was the instrument of working him into in fluence. General Jackson’s habit of violent swearing gave him.all the repu tation he ever had. General Harrhon received the Presidency by living in a log cabin. Thomas H. Benton made his reputation by swearing at paper money. James Buchanan’s good looks kept him in public life half a century, and finally made him President. Abraham Lin coln’s rail splitting experience did much to originally raise him to the Presidency. Allen G. Thurman made a national re putation by his use of a red bandana handkerchief. Tom Ooh iltree has made a wide lame by lying. In the presnt Senate George H. Pendleton lives on his deportment. Mr. Edmunds flourishes on his power of satire. Bayard is dis tinguished for his family connections, Dan Vorhees lives on the reputation made by his violent utterances daring the war. Mr. Anthony is conspicuously known as the only Senator who ever matched Thomas H. Benton in the number of re-elections. Hampton and Butler are k iown for their peculiar ways of carrying elections. s; • Didn’t Like Self-Cooking Revolvers. It was in the Carolina backwoods, a country couple aud a country parson. Though a Baptist, the minister wore an old surphce. When he had finished tbe ceremony, he said: “An’ them’uns who God hath oin- ed”- “Stop thar, parson,'* said the groom; “don’t say them’uns, say these’uns!" “John,” said the parson, “I tech you at school, and I say them’uns.” “These’uns,” shouted the groom, drawing his pistol. The parson seeing the movement fired through his surplice and the gri om dropped dead— winging the parson as he went down. There was a lively fusilade of perhaps thirty shots. Y7han the smoke cleared away half a dozen men , were on the door. The bnde, peeping {over the pulpit to which she hud fled for rxfuga, gaz:d mournfully op the scene and said: “Them self-cockin’ pistols is a play in’ the deaoe with my prospecksl” Of course tbe story is an Impossible one, and yet, said Mr. Smith: “That is tne staple story of the south that ia circulated and believed throughout the north. While such ft thing could baldly have happened in North Carolina any more than in New York, the average northern man smile* increduonsly when you tell him that this performance is impcobable at a Carolina wedding.” A justice of the peaca in the luterior of Michigan had a case before him some days ago In which tbe defendant, who had been arrested for suspicious char acter, and pleaded guilty to vagrancy, was sent to the Detroit House of Cor rection for six months. A constable took him in charge to deliver him there, and aa the idea of securing board and lodging for six months, he was not hand cuffed. As the train was about ready to go the constable moved across the aisle to talk politics with a friend, and pretty soon they were haviri g it hot and heavy, When the conductor came in for tick ets he hold his baud out to the prisoner, and the latter shook hts head and re plied: “Idon’t pay fare.” “Aha I You don’t eh? Well, now, you pay or git!” “I won’t pay l” “Then you’ll git!” When we slow up at the crossing you jump off. If I find you on the train after we pas* there I’ll give you a bounce that you won’t for get!” Jn two minutes the train began to slow ai^ the prisoner walked to the door picaed a soft spot and dropped off. When the train bad made anothe mile the eondnotoi hold oat h!s hand to tbe constable and received two tickets. “Who is the extra one for?” he asked. “Forthat prisoner over there.” “Why, that fel—!” Then there was raving and gnashing of teeth and hurrying up and down, but it was no use. “Sorry,” said the conductor, as he passed along,” but when a passenger says he won't pay fair on my train I give him the drop. The only thing that surprised me was to see how willingly he obeyed orders.” The Kmsllsk Bohemian Haven. Among the places in London interesting te such as have a penchant for the haunts of geuius Is a sort of tap-room, located in a cellar under a corner of tbe Tavistock Hotel, and directly opposite the Convent Garden Market Little known to the Am erican tourist, aud more seldom visited by him, there are few, we take it, among the reading community of London to whom its history is not more or less familiar. Evan’s, it is styled, and it stands in the very midst of numberless scenes well known to most of us through the medium of old as well as more recent Brltisn authors. For the past century and a half—if what we are told be true—the choicest spirits of the English literary and theatn- cal world have been wont, at night, to congregate in this refectory; then and thur* in fihanHnn thomcolvoo to whatorcr recreation appertains to such an assem blage. The original Evans, of course, went to his last home long years ago, but succeed ing tapsters have occupied his shoes in such uninterrupted succession that each has taken the thread of histoiy where his predecessor dropped it, and so preserved unbroxen the story of the place. The present depository of its annals is a rubicund old fellow, who possesses au ap propnately colored nose, (jut who lacks somewhat that complete totundity of per son which one desires to see in the host of a very ancient tap. Though dignified and little prone to the garrulity which might be expected from his occupation and sur roundings, he still is quite ready to recite his story, whenever he feels that he has an auditor upon whom his breath will not be wasted. To the worthy listener, then, he will point out table after table, at which have sat various celebrities who frequented Evans’s “ before you was born, sir,” and will narrate such incidents of their careers as arc the special property of that institu tion. But" his great boast is of the pictures that adorn tbe walls, among which are the fortraits of Sheridan, Siddons, Kemble, and fifty others who within the recollec tion of Evans, have roused audiences, of even stirred the nation. Quaint and cracked as many of these portraits are, they are much better than the ordinary run of “likenesses,” and not few of them are noticeable for genuine artistic merit. In our memory to see Peg Woffington now, just as the artist depicted her; a lithe fair creature ; more girl than woman; simplicity’s self, and yet about whom there is that something or other, we know not bow to call it, which Charles Reade brings out so cleverly in his novel bearing her name. Among the collection is a picture of Edwin Forrest; and we will never forget the pompous flourish with which the host pointed to it as a proof of England’s appreciation of genius, no matter what its nationality. A portrait in the gallsry of which he has the ward, ors in Wesi minster Abbey. But midnight has come. The theatres are over ana the crowd is collecting. Bo to be regular and to do as others do, let us choose a table end order chops and potatoes and beer. By this time, no doubt, the room is filled with notabilities, and it would be our greatest pleasure to tell the reader just how they look, and ail about them; hut as we ourselves haven’t the slightest idea as to who is who, we will presume each individual to be a marvel in his own par ticular way, and turn our attention to the refection that we see ib coming. And isn’t this a toothsome dish! Chops as delicate as the daintiest palate could wish for, and potatoes suck as are to be gotten only where potatoes are a speciality. How white the latter open, and how beautifully they crumble as the waiter presses them from their jackets. Now, everything is ready. Bo, with the best of appetites and an imagination so strengthened by the siturtion as to be able to summon whomsoever it will, we proceed to sup amid a company selected from a list extending back for ages. Fancy occupying a table where, a hun dred and fifty years ago, Colly Cibber may have discussed chops and potatoes with boon companions; or from which, in their retpective periods, GarricR or Wil son or dear old Thackeray were used to contribute to the fun and hilarity of this place. . Does any one who has read “Penden nis” forget the “Back Kitchen ?” What a jolly den it was! How every rollicking disposition gravitated to it naturally 1 Was ever description more graphic than the novelist has written of that resort f When Thackeray penned it he unquestionably bad in his mind some place that had fig ured in his own experience; and we can hardly visit Evans’s without fedirg that Foker, or Shandon, or miserable old drunken Costigan must be somewhere about, or that little Bows may still be found operating at the plana Apropos pt the turn eur thought has taken, how wild fancy runs when once fiee rein is given it I Whilst we’ve been sitting here it has peopled this old room with beings whose talk emd laughter ceased generations since, the walls mean while reverberating the din and clamor of Tboaghts For Wiiurr. One of the first rules established for washing, is to wash white clothes first, aud colored oiothaajafterwards. During this cold weather, when clothes freeze almost immediately on being put out doors, the whole day is scarcely suffici ent to dry them. Colored clothes are injured much more than white ones by remaining damp over sight, so that it is a good plan to have them ready to put out first. If there is a laundry in tbe house, the result is the same. Another help in this disagreeable business, in cold weather, is to place.the small artic les, sueb as collars and cnifs, etc., upon the alothes dryer which can be set out of doors until the clothes are frozen, and then brought in and dned. Thu- saves many cold fingers and toes. Wearing mittens when hanging clothrs upon the Mu*, is another saving of fingers. These are little things, but the little things are sometimes productive of more real benefit than the larger ones, whioh n.ay net bo suited to our circumstances or need. No housekeeper can long do her own work without discovering some way of saving either labor or money. We are apt to think such matters of inte rest only to ourselves, or that everybody knows them, or that others are not obli ged to practice such little economies. We are constantly finding that people do not know as much as we supposed, and that the most of us are interested in anything pertaining to a saving «f dol lars and cents. Jfow that the cold weather is here, t^ere are other matters of interest to be discussed. How to keep the little opes amused when they must stay in the house, how to pleasantly and profitably employ the evenjhgs. which are longer than in Mie city, where the evening meal is seldom over before seven o’clock, how to find time for improving reading, and what to read, all these are subjects on tntiA whioh w. can all learn sometffug. We hope that when the hurry of the holi days is over, which is doubtless the rea son why we have not heard from some of our inends lately, we shall have the benefit of some experience in these di rections. Standard Time. Anniversaries nod Holtdajs. For the year 1883 days aud dates of important events, anniversaries and hol idays will fall as follows: Epiphany, Saturday, January 6; Septuagesima Sun day, January 21; Shrove Sunday, (Fastnaoht) February 4; Ash Wednes day, February 7; First Sunday in Lent, February 11; St Valentine's day Wed- needay, February 14; Washington’s Birthday, Thursday, February 22; St. Patrick’s Day, Saturday, March 17; ‘Palm Sunday, March 18; Good Friday, March 23; Easter Sandfly, March 25; Low Sunday, April 1; Rogation Sunday, April 29; Ascension Day, (Holy Thtus- day,) May 8; Pentecost, (Whit Sunday,) May 18; Trinity Sunday, May 20; Cor pus Christa, Thursday, May 24; Decor ation Day, Wednesday, May 80; Inde pendence Day, Wednesday, July 4; First Sunday iu Advent, December 2; Christmas-. Tuesday, December 25. living throng. And furthermore, not only has it rehaflilitated the dead, It bas brought hither the shadowy creatures of imagination and invested them also with substantiality. Well, the chops and potatodF’bre gone, the tankard is empty, and the crowd Is de parting. Perforce, then, we must wend our way. Having lighted a cigar we sally forth, and as we homeward stroll this thought suggests itself, that as we have sat and mused of men who now live only in the story of their achievements, so*Wheu the Present shall have retreated to iu position in the Past the coming wight will occupy the seat *e have just vacated, and therein will meditate upon souls as yet unknown but striving, and whose names the Future will find upon the record of the great NEWS IN BRIEF, L is always of interest to kuow how the world jogs by tbe clock and how the clock swings by the sun. The primary standard time-keeper of England is a sidereal clock kept in the basement of the Royal Observatory, Greenwich. This clock is of the best construction, and is, moreover, provided with the m >st approved apparatus for compensa tion and correction. Experience has shown that the best results are obtained when the connection between the driv ing weight and the pendulum of a dock is as slight as possible. This has been the use of an escapement, the details of whioh are very intricate. The secondary regulator of the time of England is the mean solar standard clock at the Royal Observatry, which waa specially erected in 1852 for service in tbe time signal sys tem, of whioh it is now the most import ant instrument. This clock has n sec onds pendulum, which closes an electric circuit as it swings to the right. An electro-magnet in the circuit lifts a small weight, which is discharged upon the Tendolum as it swings to the left and gives it an impulse; this being repeated at each vibration is sufficient to keep it m motion. The pendulum also closes other galvanic oiremts—one as it swings to the nght, another as it swings to the eft—which send currents alternately positive and negative through electro magnets, alternately attracting and re- pelnrjg bar-magnets fastened to an axis, which thus receives a reciprocating motion. An arm projecting from this axis moves the seconds’ wheel one tooth forward each second; proper geering gives motion to tbe minute and hour wheels. The mean solar standard, be sides controlling other clocks, drives a seconds relay, whioh controls a mean time chronometer. Nearly all the mean time clocks iu the Royal Observatory are driven by the standard clock, they are, in fact, simply dials whose hands are moved in the same way aud by the same isttery as the hands of the standard itself. list? Years la ths Service. —In spite ot statistics showing that there were 1,645 more failures In the United States and Canada during 1882 than dating 1881, the country is not less prosperous than it was a year ago. Perhaps many of the wrecked firms have been r^aoe wild and extravagant by prosperity. —This year may be set down ss ths great cotton year in the United Btates. The indications ore that the yield will reach an aggregate of 6,700,000 bales. At an early hour every morning in the year, there may be seen at the rail road depot at Fourteenth and Main streets, Louisville, Kentucky, a little old man, wearing the postal uniform, busy with the mails. He is seventy-five years old and his name is Dr. Charles C. Green, a local agent for the United Btates mails. “How long have yon been in the mail service?” a reporter asked Dr. Green. “Bince 1824, when I began carrying tne mails between Maysville and Lex ington, by tiie way of Winchester, Mt. Sterling, OwingsvUle, Sherburn’s Mills. Hillsboro and Fiemingsburg. I carried the mails on horseback, making one trip weekly. “But I may be said to have been in the mail service before 1884,” continued Dr. Green. “I was eight years old when the battle of New Orleans eooured, iu 1845. We had all heard that a battle had been fought, but had no particulars. Or a certain bright, clear moruiug, when the snoa covered the ground as far as the eye could reach, we awaited the oi mmg of the mail carrier with his pack-horse. Before he came in sight the stillness of the air was broken by cries of ‘Good news! good news!’ People were awaiting all along tbe road for the approach of the bearer of the news. There had been printed at the office of tbe old Lexington Gazette a number of slip, of paper containing the details of the battle and the mail oorrier was dis tributing these broadcast 1 was com- missioned by my father to carry a number of these to the neighbors living around. I hod never worn a pair of shoes then, and I tramped about the neighborhood that day ia the snow, my trousers rolled up to the knees, with never a thought of discomfort” —During the mouth of December, 97,478 bake of cotton were shipped to furope, from Norfolk, Virginia. —The arrivals at New York from foreign ports, during 1885, numbered 6476, including 1945 steamers. —The total product of the Leadviiie mines for 1882 is reported at $18,220,- 803, whioh is $5,050,327 more than in 1881. —The cane crop of Mississippi is this year largely in excess of any heretofore produced, and is yielding a handsome profit —Thirty thousand dollars is the money value of the oocoanuts shipped from the island of Jamaica to the United States. —Ths United States Government owns 43,000,000 acres of land in Cali - terms, and half of it is snitakie for g<uvt farms. —There are 415 street railway com panies in the United Btates and Canada, which run an aggregate of 18.000 cars per day. —Two years ago there were but seven cotton mills in the Dominion ; now there are twenty-one, with an aggregate capital of $6,600,000. —The Great Dismal Swamp in Vir ginia is passing awu/. Mnch of the area has been reclaimed and converted into good tillage land. —Tomatoes to the amount of 1,600,- 000 cases are annually oauned in the United States, or 63,000,000 pounds, valued at $3,330,000. —Pennsylvania ranks first among the United States in the number of poet offices, having 3,596, more than any ether State in the Union. —The population of Great Britain en joys an income of $5,000,000,000, of wjiich eighty-three per cent is expen ded for the necessaries of life. —The receipts of the Patent Office during the year were$l,009,186, against $853,665 during 1881. The net revenue of the Office during the year was $325,- 000. ' —Competent judges estimate that th< Franco-German war cost France two provteoe^a million of lives, and $3,< 000,000.000. It added $2,000,000,000 to the debt —The worship of Jaaus was intro duced into Rome by Romulus. Numa Pompilius named the first month of ths year for him, aud dedicated a covered passage near the forum to him. —The three-cent silver piece has been abolished from the United States coinage, and they are now being re deemed at the sub-treasuries. New three-cent pieces will be made of niokle. —Treasurer Gilfillan, who haB*par ch as ed 5000 acres of land m Florida, will have other persons associate with him, aud during the coming year will g-i ^-BTT--I n q|. ami - t i-taA-— -* orange trees. —The late David Greenshields, of Montreal, bequeathed over $100,000 to various charitable aud public institu tions. The Montreal General Hospital aud Queen's University, Kingston, re ceived $40,000 each. —Lyons was the centre of the intel lectual life of Europe during the first half of the sixteenth century. Gry- phe, the great printer, had hi* office there, and in 1550 sent out a Latin Bi ble, remamable for its freedom from errors. —In the reign of Louis XVI. the landholders of France were few and their estates immense, a single person often being lord of a hundred parishes. The Duke of Nemouille and his daugh ter, the Princess of Tarente, owned 300 parishes. —Two hundred and forty-four e&rth- quaRes, it is stated, are known to have occured during 1881, of whioh eighty- six were iu Winter, sixty-one in Au tumn, fifty-six in Spring and forty-one iu Summer. —A Nevada mine has just produced a bar of gold seventeen inches long, seven inches wide snd eight inches thick, weighing 450 pounds, with a cash value of $115,000. it is said to be the largest bar ever cast in the United States. —Madagascar is rather larger than France. A belt of almost virgin forest runs around the island. The popula tion is about four millions, and the soil will easily support thirty millions. In dia rubbar is a principal export. The mineral wealth is enormous. —The detailed project for the suV unrine tunnel between Italy and SioO; i has been finished, and will soon be ank mitted for Government approbatioi The length of the tunnel will be aboo' 8J miles. The expense is calculated $14,250,000. —The infant boy of the ruler of Bur- mah has a cradle whioh cost $1,000,000; is mode of gold and covered with >recious stones. But he has the anuff- es, colic and collywobbles just the same as the baby that fills a crib that didn’t cost $2.50. —There are 118 public scientific ob servatories in tho world. The most ancient is that of Leyden, founded in 1632 ; then oome Copenhagen, founded in 1637; Pans, in 1667, and Greenwich, in 1675. Prussia, now the richest country in the world- in astronomical observatories, had none before 1805, -The 21.000 English Puritans, who came over to New England before the meeting of the Long Parliament have now increased to nearly 18,000,000. Aooordiog to the most careful estimates, at least one-fourth of the whole popu lation of tbe United States at the pres ent moment is descended from theoe men. —In the eastern part of Massachu setts, and with head-quarters in Boston, are seven nail mills, operating 300 ma chines, and turning out an average of 10,000 kegs per week, mostly fox the home trade, bnt furnishing shipments for Cuba and South America. —It is announced that a contract has been closed between the Canada South ern Railroad Company and the Phcanix Bridge Company, for the building bf a ne suspension bridge across the Niagara River, a quarter of a mile south of the old suepension bridge. The new bridge is to be ready for traffic by September, 1883. * -