Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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4 .* V - , „>. . r'"«« , 3SK2 TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S..O.. MARCH 1.1883. ESTABLISHED 184S I' OUR OWN. If I bad known In the morning How wearily all the day The words unkind . Would trouble my mind I said when yon went awar. I had beeu more careful, darling, Nor given you needless pain; But we vex “our own" With look and tone We might never take back again. For though in the quiet evening You may give me the kiss of peace, Yet well It might be 'That never fgr me The pain of the heart should cease. How many go forth In the morning Who never come home at night; And hearts have broken For harsh woids spoken, That sorrow can ne’er set right. We have careful thought for the stranger, Aud smiles for the sometime guest, But oft for “ our own” The bitter tone, Though we love our own the best. Ah 1 Up with the curve impatient; Alt I brow with that look of scorn, ’Twere a cruel fate Were the night too late To undo the work of morn. CIKCCMSTANTIAI. KVIDENCK. Several lawyers were sitting in a court room waiting for “his honor” to come, so that the court would open and they could proceed with business. To amuse themselves they were “spinning yams,” and, as might be expected, every ttory was of some mcident of the law. “Judge 'Holmes, it is your turn,” said a young attorney, addressing an old man who had been a silent listener to what the others had related. Judge Holmes brought his chair for ward nearly to the centre of the group, seated himself, and said: “I suppose, gentleman, that I might tell you somethiug.” “f do not doubt but what it would be in ter eating, and I am for one anxious to bear,” said an attorney who had much respect for the old Judge. “Yes! go on Judge; tell us the queer est ex per ence you ever had,” said another. ‘•Well, gentlemen. I will tell you how I came to lose faith in circumstantial evidence,” said the Judge. “It was when 1 was upon the northern circuit, the first year that I was Judge. That was a good many years ago, when the country was new. The judge then had to go from one court house to another ou horseback. There were no railroads then. I tell you there has been a great change iy. t.^jH jsonntry. Well, I am getting off from the subject, j was to hold the November term in Plain- ville; the court nouse was au immense log cabin; behind it was a log bam made ou purpose for the judge to keep his horse in. After a long, tiresome ride, 1 armed at Plaumlle. I noticed a very large crowd of people around the court bouse, and wondered what it meant. While I was caring for my horse four or five of the citizens, too, of the place, came into the bam. “Good morning, Judge,” said one who had appeared to be the spokesman of the party. “Good morning, sir,” I replied. “Fine day. Judge* * * ” “Yes, sir, very tine.” “Got much to do in court?'’ “I do not know.” “You have got one queer case, and a bad one, too.” “Is that so?’ “Yes—a murder.” “I am sorry.” “It is bad, Judge, and a woman, too.” “A woman murdered?” “No, no; a woman did the murder ing.” “That is bad; I am very sorry to hear that any woman should be accused of murder.” “It’s awful, Judge. She is guilty, and that makes it worse.” “Has she been tried?” “No, she ain’t tried; you’ve got to try her, and what we want is this: don’t let up on her a bit; you just sentence her, and we’ll be glad to do the hang ing.” “But suppose that she is not guilty? you don’t want her hung in that case, Ug you?” “But she is guilty. She bought poi son, and give it to her man. And did we not find his body in the river, and the poison in his body?” “And did not she and her husband have a big quarrel, and she moke awful threats to him the night Before he was found dead? There is no question about the guilt. Judge.” “Hsa she been indicted?” “Yes, at the last court; she was indicted and we would have lynched her; yes, sir, we came near stringing her up.” “We must give her a fair trial before we hang her,” I remarked. ‘ ‘We don’t object to that. Everybody says that she is guilty; and she i* guilty, and must be hung, that’c all there is to it, Judge.” I concluded that it was not wise to continue thj conversation auy further i went into the court room and took my seat on the bench. I had a hard time to get into the court room, the crowd of people was so dense. As I passed through among them, 1 received many gratuitous admonitions like this: “Give her what she deserves, Judge.” I saw that the popular feeling was against the woman, and 1 too, began to think that the people, tor they were a good people, were riglrt. After the preliminary business of the court was done, I found that by ar rangement with the attorneys every case had been put off, so as to have the mur der trial first. So the jury was drawn. I knew that every man in the jury box believed her guilty, but I could not help it. It was impossible to get any jury men who thought differently. The prisoner was brought in hand cuffed. I thought the handcuffing was unnecessary, but the sheriff took that precaution. The first impression that came to my mind as I looked at the prisoner, was, how could one so young and so beautiful commit such a terrible crime? She turned her pale; tear-stain ed face and look' d at me. In that piti- ul look I read her prayer. It was that i should protect her. “Are you guilty, or not guilty?” said the district attorney. "Not guilty!'’ Her anew er was in firm, sad voice. For a moment 1 allowed myself to believe that she had pleaded truthfully. But when I heard the subdued hiss that came from the people, I said to myself she lies. The evidence was conclusive. Her husband had come home the worse for liquor. They had some hard words; she had told him that if ha did not stop drinking, she would stop him. “You will be sorry for it. If you don’t stop, you will be a dead man. I will be better off as your widow than as the slaving wife of a drunkard. '* Then right after the quarrel she had bought poison. She told the druggist that she wished to poison some cats that dis turbed her sleep. The next morning the dead body was found aud the doctor found poison in the body. There was only one thing that looked queer. She had not been allowed to see the remains. As I said betore, tue evidence was conclusive, and the verdict of the jury was “guilty,” and I must do my duty. “Mary Bralnard, stand up.” She staggered to her feet and stood facing me. “The jury have found you guilty of murder in the first degree. Have you anything to say why the sentence of the court should not be passed upon you?” “I am not guilty!” She bowed her head and stood waiting for what was to come* * “Mary Brainard, this is a painful duty which I have to perform. Usually in pacsing a sentence upon one found guilty of a crime, a court passing that sentence utters words of advice to the guilty. In this case I cannot do so; the crime is too great. I will proceed at once to pass the sentence of the court Mary Brainanl, the sentence of this court is that on the 21st day of Februa ry next, between the hours of 12 o’clock at noon and 2 o’clock in the afternoon, in the court house yard, at Plainville, you be hanged by the neck until you are dead, and may God have mercy upon your soul! As soon as I had finished, she sank back in her chair, like one exhausted. The people in the court room cheered in token of their approval. Just as the sheriff was about to take her back to the jail, a man elbowed his way through the crowd, to where the prisoner was. Clasping her in his arms, he cried out: “Mary! Mary!” She gave oue wild scream. I shall always remember it. I heard her say: “John, is this you?” She then fell forward upon his shoulder. The dead was alive; it was her hus band! “Yes,” he said, “I am this woman’s husband. I am John Brainard. I went away vowing that I would not return again until I had freed myself from my appetite for drink. I am now a sober man,and thank God that I am able to save" my wife from being murdered simply because the law says so.” “That’s my story,” oontinued Judge Holmes. “Ever since then I have had noiaith in circumstantial evidence.” “Who was the man that they found dead?” asked one of the lawyers. “That I never knew; a ease of suicide, perhaps,” replied the Judge. “That was a queer experience, but it is only a fair Illustration of what may have occurred many tunes in the past,” said oue. “And may occur many times in the future,” said another. “That is true,” said Judge Holmes, “But here is the Judge of this court. The train must have been behind, or he would not have been so late. Busines?, gentlemen, we must now attend to bus iness. Marbi*. Vermont is said to produce more marble than any other State in the Union or than any country except this. The business has expanded with mar velous rapidity since 1870, when com paratively little Vermont marble was to be found in the market. The aggre gate amount of the State’s production the present year is 1,000,000 cubic feet, valued at over $2,000,000. The num ber of men employed in the quarries and mills exceeds 2800, and it required 10,000 ears to carry the marble away. Nearly $1,000,000 was paid for the labor of workingmen by the quarry owners. Ih washing muslins and l»wns put a little pulverised borax in the water, u« 1 use but little soap. Man-Hunting. Sorry, indeed, even where death does not come to put an end to his existence, is the lot of the convict who has succeeded in escaping from the mines of Eastern Siberia. Without resources of any kind, he must beg or rob his way back to Russia. Tbs alternative of seeking employment is one which often has disastrous t ^sequences. The convict of the lowest type regards the Siberian colonist as an inferior, and baa a saying wbicb describes bim as “blind for three days after biith.” -But the colonist has his revenge. He works the superci lious convict like a beast of burden, and gives him as little rest and as little food as possible. When wages ^re demanded the colonist has an original way of satisfying his laborer. The money is paid without demur, but, before the convict can get clear, he fails dead, killed by a bullet from the gun ot bis cruel employer. This method of payment is sometimes carried out on a large scale. It is adopted m the case of vagabond laborers who, haring finished their autumn work in the fields, return to the neighboring village to be paid off. The wages are forthcoming, and the laborers allowed to depart with their hardly-earned money. But they have no sooner gone than the peasant farmer as- * ,o mbles his neighbors, and, having provi- da them with horses and firearms, the wh le party sallies forth in pursuit of the ▼a .ahonds. The retiring laborers are tg icdily overtaken; most are killed on the spot, ail are robbed, the recovered money being divided between the farmer and his confederates. The only respect shown for authority is the prevalent habit, wben robbery has been the motive of sla'ighter, of concealing the dead. The murdered convicts are usually cut and mutilated, and the remains buried in out-of-the-way places. This hunting of “hunchbacks,” as the escaped convicts are often called m derision, has gone on for years, entering so deeply into the habits of the people that it has escaped the attention of few travelers through Eastern Siberia. “Where are the men?'was asked of a woman left in charge of a small village adjoining the highway. “Gone after the hunchbacks,” was the reply. Such is the prevailing demoralization in this respect that boys have been heard to ask their lathers to kill vagabonds m order that they may see “how the fellow will roll on his hump.” lu some of the Governments it is certain death for a convict escaped, or still under supervision, to be caught re turning from the mine. Occasionally the soldiers imitate the colonists in their ex ploitation of the vagabond. The Cossack, as well as the ordinary colonist, covets cheap labor, and is in the habit of reward ing with an ounce or two of lead the con vict who declines to pass from one condi tion of bond slavery to another. During the coionixation of the Traus- baikal region the hunting of vagabonds was ^ne of the common diversions of the new ly-arrived settlers. From Tomsk to Chlti tliere is a locality that has rendered itself notorious for the pursuit on a large scale of escaped convicts. In the Tomsk Go- verment itself whole villages are described as living solely by the robbery of vaga bonds. The river Karasan has been so filled with the bodies of murdered con victs as to become putrid. Near Fingul open woods are known as a favorite ground for the slat giiter. The whole of the dis trict is full of the memories and traditions of Siberian man hunting. Heroes of the sport are still alive. .. Bitkoy, Romano/, and 2avorola were each expert m different ways. Romanoy, ter instance, gained celebrity m the village ot Fingul, where he was m the habit of lying iu ambush close to the highway, and snooting down every vagabond who passed. In the autumn evenings Bitkoy used to pick off stragglers along the banks of. the river Augar. During subsequent sport along the Biryus there were individual Siberians who boasted that they had brought down as many as sixty, and in some cases ninety vagabonds. ♦ - _ HcCUsksr’u Cold Deck. “Pass the punch bowl.” The speaker, abroad-shouldered, rud dy-faced man, with piercing brown eyes aud a tawny beard of heavy growth, leaned over the oaken table that stood w the centre of the room os he spoke these words, and across his face there flitted a smile whose presence seemed to illumine with a kindly light the rug ged outlines of his couatenance. It was a merry party that had assembled this New Year’s night in Coastcliffe Castle, and as the bright flames from the great wood fire sent their reflection along the walls, bringing into view the ancient tapestry that overhung the windows, and the suits of armor standing like grim sentinels iu the niches of the room, it seemed as if the ghosts of long ago had returned to celebrate with dnrk, and song, and jest the triumphs of their youth. Valdimir Johnson shoved a black bot tle across to Eric MoCloskey as the lat ter spoke the words with which this chapter opens, and for an instant the silence was broken only by the low moaning of the wind as it whist’od among the turrets of Coastcliffe Castle, and the solemn, almost painful shuffling of the prker deck. Presently the loud clanging of the church bells, proclai ming the death of the old year and the birth of the new, fell upon the midnight air, and instinctively the men, rude o* speech though they were, turned to a little altar that had been erected in one corner of the apartment hundreds of years before, and murmured a silent prayer. Eric MoCloskey did not join in these devotions, but when the others had finished a close observer might have noticed a cold, cynical smile on his face Two minutes later a solitary footman might bave'been seen raking in all the money in the party oyer to his side of the table. The blow indeed had been a fearful one, but none of them knew that while their eyes Tere closed in prayer a fearful tragedy had been en acted. But it was so. Erie MoCloskey had brought a cold deck with him. Murder of a Soy. Mr John Smith, the vrtre of the inhu man fiend who butchered his thirteen-year- old son near Westmlnsief, California, was brought to'Los Angeles and placed m jail to await her trial as accomplice to the muader of het eldest child. The woman in personal appearance is not unpreposses sing, and there is nothing In her face to denote abeence of the motharly iratincts of which she has shown herself to be utter ly devoid. As she entered the room, beinng in her arms a pale and sickly look ing infant, the reporter saw kpfore him a woman small in stature, wite a round face She was scantily elad In an old dress, which seemed but the mockery of an at tempt to keep off the cojA gusts which now and then came sweepingYnrough the jail-yard. A scrap of .a shawl, gathered closely around her frail form and that ot her crying babe, added meagerly to her physical comfort and formed but another line m a picture which, had it not been for her surroundings, would have been an impressively sad one. During the interview, which is in sub stance repioduced below, she would, from time to time, look dp into the reporter’s face with the fierce flash of desperation in her eyes, and at other times the tears would well up from long unused springs and flood the face aud choke the sound of her voice Her whole story seemed to be sincere; there was no effort at dissimula tion or dissembling. “Mrs. Smith you are here to answer the charge of assisting in the murder of your own son. Have you any objections to stating to me what impelled you to this act ?” “I had nothing to do with it sir. If 1 could have prevented it I would. My hus band told me about an hour before he did it that the Lord demanded a sacrifice of us and that our boy had to die. I begged him to spare my boy. I cried and begged him to consider well what he was about to do, but all the answer be made me was that Jesus Christ had died for us and the Lord had told him that our sop had to die for His sake. He called my boy out of the house and told him he had to die for our Saviour. The boy asked him if the Lord had commanded us to starve and Josiah told him'Yes.’ Then the little knelt down by his side and his lather stood up. He raised the knife, looked hard in . the boy’s face and then drove the knife into his breast. Oh I it was awful, once it was done 1 * “No; 1 felt bad a little, but when he told me what he was going to do it did not seem to me so terrible. It was only when I saw the boy fall over and a great stream of blood come spurting from his body that 1 felt how terrible it all was.” “Had your husband ever been a religious man ? Had he ever shown any symptoms of religious insanity f” “No, sin He was not a religious man. He believed in God, but did not follow any religion He took to reading the Bible a great deal a few weeks betore all this happened and used often to read me all ihat they say m the Bible about the sacri fice to the Lord. 1 begged him not to read them much, but they seemed to have a terrible fascination for him. He would read over again about the Lord command ing Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac and how He sent a ram to be the victim. He got to talking to his old lather, who is now seventy eight years old. and he said to lu a*: ‘1 am the Lord.’ His old father argued with him when he saw the way he was going, but it was no use, and my hus band would go on saying to him that he had God in him.” “How long have you been married to this man ? Has be been a good husband to you ?” “This coming December will be sixtee years. I have no complaint to make against him, for he has been as good a husband to me as a woman could want. He was always kind to all of us, and did all that he could to keep us from want. Hut just before he did it he said that we must all fast and that be would not let us eat anything. The boy asked him frequently if God had ordered us all to ctarve aud he always said He had If it had not been that my head was sort of dazed and if the boy had not given in at once, I might have pre vented the killing, though he was mighty bent on it,” “How did your husband’s talk on this subject of sacrifice affect you.?” “Well, I used to feel that if the Lord commanded me to starve or kill people, I would not do it. But when he would talk to me and persuade me that a good wife should Hunk as her husband did, I got so as to think that what he said must be right.” “Ob, yes, sir; I often do. I am always thinking of mm, and I can hear him at all times asking to be brought in and laid on his bed, and begging for a little water be fore he died. I have his face before me all the time, and I bear his voice in my ears day and night.” The woman continued with heart rend ing details of the boy’s conversations with his father and his numerous attempts to make his father go back to fisning af ter he had given it up. bhe pictured in her graphic but illiterate way the sickening details of her childV^death. During the course of her narrative deep sobs would interrupt her story, but they seemed to be more the result of emotional excitement than natural grief of a bereaved mother. Some Loot States. CoTartnx Arrears. Borne of the obscure facts of our his tory relating to the formation, the speedy rise and as speedy fall of organizations that promised to become prosperous and permanent States, are full of interest. They have, in general, no place in the current histories of the country; and only the delver in original records and out-of- the-way documents Is likely to find them. Now Connecticut included a number of towns ofl both sides of the Connecticut river, which, in June, 1779, attempted to form a separate government, but the effort was short lived. New Albion was a grant made in 1634 by the Earl of Strafford, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland (the only American grant under the great seals of the Emerald Isle), to Edward Plowden, of the present tract of Few Jersey, whh all the adjacent islands. It was not utilized bv Plowden, probably on account of the Dutch claims. New Amstel was a grant to the city ot Amsterdam iu 1656 by the Dutch West India Co. of the part of that same territory between the Christiankill and the Delaware, in consideration of a large payment. It was named from a suburb ot Amsterdam. It was successful ly colonized, but so many difficulties were experienced in the administration of its affairs that after eight years, the India company was asked to take it back again. The beginnings of government in Ken tucky were made by a party of nine North Carolinians, headed by CoL Ricbaid Hen derson. In defiance ot the ancient policy and statutes of Virginia, which ruled the land, they assumed to purchase from the Cherokees 17,000,000 acres, between the Cumberland and Kentucky rivers, upon which they tried to found “the colony of Transylvania.” A Legislature «of seven teen members met under an elm at Fort Boone, or Boonesborougk, May 23, 1775, the first Anglo-American Government west of the Alleghanies. Sundry measures were passed during the five day’s session, when the Assembly adjourned, never to meet again, as the movement was squelched by the Virginia Legislature, and the retus&l of the Continental Congress to receive the delegate sent to that body. The post-revolutionary era was prolific in schemes for extending the American empire. Congress looked wisely to the early settlement of the western country, and to its subdivision and erection into States. Iu 1784—indeed, before the ses sion by Virginia of her vast tracts in the northwest to the United States—an ordi nance ot that body, reported by a com mittee of which Jefferson was chairman, provided for the subdivision of all territory acquired er to be acquired in the then west from the frontier of Florida to the north line of the Union. With the growth of population iu each prescribed division of 20,000 or more, seventeen States in all were to be successfully created—eight be tween the Mississippi and a north and south line draws through the falls of the Ohio, eight, between tuts fine and a mer idian through the mouth of the great Kan awha, and the seventeenth between the latter and the western boundary of Penn sylvania and Virginia. Each State, in general, was to have a breadth of just two degrees of latitude, without regard to natural boundaries. A provision, doubt less introduced by Jefferson, but which did not pass with the bill, anticipated the ordinance of 1787 In declaring that there should be no slavery or mvoluntary servi tude in the States formed (in this case after the year 1800), except for punish- meat for crime. The proposed division was found impracticable, and was super- ceded three years afterward by the ordi nance just named, for the government of territory northwest of the Ohio river. In Jefferson's original draft of the act of 1T84, he provided definite bounds and titles for such of the States as might be formed north of Ohio. That between the 45th)parallel and the noith limit of the United States was to be Sylvanla; next south of this, Michigan, east of which, m the present lower peninsular of Michigan, would come Choronesus; the two States south of these, Assinispia on the west and Metropotamia to the east; below these, Illinota and Saratoga; between the latter and Pennsylvania, Washington; and be tween the Ohio and the 40th parallel, Polypotamia (from the many rivers within it) and Pelipsia (from an old name of the Beautiful river). But when the bill was sent back to the committee, the elaborate provisions for these were stricken out. In the same year (1784) North Carolina ceded her western lands to the general government. Among them were certain counties of east Tennessee, whose people revolted at the secession, met in Jones boro’ in December, and formed a separate organization called Fraakiand. Sevier brigadier-general of the military district, was made Governor in March, 1785, and ruled alter a fashion for a year or two, until an armed collision occurred between his militia and a force under Col. Tipton, leader of a party favoring allegiance to North Carolina. The “Governor” was de feated and, taken to prison in irons; and with his incarceration expired the embryo State. In 1788 North Carolina passed an act of oblivion in regard to all persons concerned in the movement. Clreu* Carnage. There died a tew weeks ago an (fid man who may be mentioned here as Uncle Reubo. For thirty years he sold his vote as often as there was an elec tion, making no bones about it and ao oepting the market price without a murmur. Oue fall, ten or twelve years ago, he went to the man who had gen erally bought him, and said: Mr. Blank, I guess I won’t sell my vote this time.’. “You won’t Why, what on earth ail you, Uncle Reube?” “Well, I want to see how it seems to oast a free ballot onoe.” “You’d better take the usual two dollars.” “No, I guess . not; Fll try it the other way once, even if it kills &ue.” He kept to his resolution and oast a free ballot, but he didn’t feel right over it, and the next election he insis ted ou having fom dollars to cover ar rears. “I was just reading," sa’d an old show man, “a letter from Billy Cole, and it set me thinking about men being killed with circuses. I’ve been with shows many s year; used to travel with old Dan Rice and Uncle John Robinson and Forepaugh, and I’ve seen many a tough battle between the people and the showmen. When I joined they used to hire canvaasmen as much for their ability to fight as to work. A canvaasman watching the tent is just like a man watching his home. He'll fight in a minute if the outsider cuts the canvas, and if a crowd comes to quarrel he will yell: ‘Hey, Rube!’ That’s the circus rallying-cry, aud look out for war when you hear it Almost every man about a show, no matter what be is doing, wdl start and rush to the place that cry comes from; and he will take any weapon he can lay hia hands on, too. Sometimes the parties that cause the trouble are knocked down and the matter enda, and sometimee others take their part and the fight lasts a long time. I’ve heard them yell ‘Hey, KubeP many a time, and seen as bad fighting aa I did in the war. I was with the old Van Amburgh party when they did tough work, I tell you. There was the fight at Steubenville, Ohio, la 1857, when they killed three of the out siders, and lost a man in Murfreesboro, Tenn., when John Lins got killed. In 1858, at Toledo, a boy tried to get under the canvas and a showman, struck him. Some one raised the cry of ‘murder,’and there waa a fight, and finally they arrested the whole show. In 1865 we had it hot at Rockland, Me. A party forced themselves into the side show, and tried the same game at the circus door. They were drunk. Billy Simpson, the boss canvas- man, had men at the big show door readv for them, and the Mayor read the riot act, and said he would deputize the showmen to keep order. The gang thought they could get jn anyway, and at last some one was hit and the cotilion comnunced. It was a fine party to tackle, and the way that gang was done up was a caution. “In Paterson, N. J M about 1658, Dick Sands was told the gang was going to tear his show to pieces, so he goes over to New York and gets Tom Hyer, the fighter, who theMkept the Punch House in thff Bowery. Tom got a gang, and when the fight began it was a stunner. Hyer had about twenty men from the Bowery and some friends in Paterson, besides, and they went at it with a will. There’s never been a big fight there since, What was the worst fight? Why, that one at Jacksonville, Texas, with the Robinson show m 1875 Noyes’ show had a fight there once and four were killed, and the Orton show got cut to pieces there. A bad town and bad men, and circuses don’t show at night there. One drunken fellow goes into the Robinson show and seats himself on the ring-bank, and they threw him out boey By, He went up town and got a gang. They were going to run the show out of town. The Town Marshal told the men to protect their property, and they did. The gang waited around until even ing, and when they were loading the show on the cars they commenced. Gil Robin son asked Uncle John what to do, and the old man says. ‘Let 'em swear all they want to, but if they shoot, give ’em the best you’ve got.’ A shot was f red, and they went at it. The show had about fifty carbines, and they were all in good hands. The fight began about half-past 3 o’clock in the afternoon and lasted until 11 at night. They charged and fought in the streets and about tbe rare, and twenty- three were killed aud more than fifty wounded. It was a regular battle. The show lost seven men. They finally got the train away, but tM^people undertook to saw down a railroad bridge just out of the town. As the train passed it a volley was fired and one man killed. The next day they were at Crockett (then Hunts ville), Houston and Galveston. The au thorities took the show bills and sent out warrants for all the men whose names were on them, but they were lost by the Sheriff, and that night Robinson got his people and tbe most valuable part of his show on board a boat and went to New Orleans, leaving a good deal of property behind him and giving up a dozen towns where he was billed to appear. The show has not been in Texas since. ‘*Th» reason tbe show loses so few mpn is because they are prepared for fight. As soon as it commences they seize the first weapon that they can find, and fight as bulldogs fight No run there. They have to stay. If they run, they are simply going away from home and assistance. Then, you seo, practice makes perfect, and they are generally cool and sober, aad know what to do. Forepaugh got into a row in Kentucky, and had a running fight for three days, and they finally sent a reg iment from Louisville to protect and get the show out of the State. John O Brien used to have what was called the ‘Irish brigade,’ and woe it was to those they battled with. There have beeu several cases where the militia have been called out, and the whole show arrested. Cooper & Bailey’s circus had a fight at Quincy in 1872, and a negro policeman was killed. The fite-bells were rung, the militia came, and every man belonging to the show was arrested and held until the following day. when it was shown that the policeman was in the wrong and the circusmen right. Harry Oise, the boss canvasman, was fined $400, however, for hitting the policeman. De Mott & Hilyard’s circus was surrounded after a fight in Iowa, a few years ago, and all arrested. Besides these genera! rows I’ve told you about there have been a great many cases in which a revolver has been drawn, usually by a druuken man, and the showman has dropped dead or mortally wounded. Many an owner of a show has died at its door, some drunken brute who wanted to force his way in firing the fatal shot. John May, a clown with Mable's show, was shot in Missouri m 1855 by a party who did not like his jokes. James McFarland, of the Spaulding ft Rogers party, was killed at Liberty, Missouri, in 1858. J. Leonard, a doorkeeper for Buckley’s exhibition, had his head cut off ia Georgia by a man to whom he bad re fused admission because he was drunk. In 1866 Jack Robinson was killed at the door of Robinson’s circus in Crittenden. Ky., and a fight followed m which five other. lives were taken. Gil Eaton, an agent of Robinson, was killed in tbe same way at Lincoln, 111., in 1869. That was a bad year lor doorkeepers and proprietors. Bill Lake, proprietor, was shot down at his door in Granby, Mo. Den Orton, of the Orton show, was killed at me door while showing at Boston, Texas. Harry Whitby, ot the Whitby ft Cooper party, was killed at the door m Louisiana. Col onel C. F. Ames was fatally wounded at Dawson, Georgia. These all occurred in 1869. Bill Lake’s widow married Wild Bill, and he used to stand at the door, gun in hand, but they never bothered him. It takes a man of nerve to tend a circus door, especially in the South. It’s all right in large cities, but when you come to the small towns where the wild boys come in, filled up with red liquor, and then go to the show, it’s different. In Texas it’s not unusual for a desperado to present« re volver wben asked for a ticket, exclaim ing: ‘There’s my ticket.’ Sometimes they allow him to pass, but oftener a row en sues and the man kills or is killed. Tbe Empsios's Activity. A letter from Nuremberg, ot a late date, 'filing of tbe imperial review held at Ri- jsa, between Chemnitz and Berlin, in the fall, says: The Emperor, with his family and suite, and the king of Saxony and suite, together with representatives of the royal families of England, Austria, Russia and Italy were present, when the immense thiong beheld the stalwart form of an old man, with white hair and white whiskers, riding toward the head of the line, con trolling with one hand a proud and spir ited black horse, and grasping his sword with the other, giving orders to his aids and making suggestions to his generals: moving about with the activity of a man of 20, and displaying not only wonderful tact in the management of the soldiers, bat admirable horsemanship and coolness —when the thousands recognized the well-known face and form of tbe well- beloved Emperor of Germany, at the agu of 85, doing all this, the enthusiasm began to border upon the insane. For four long hours the Emperor sat iu hie saddle, directing the troops here, cor recting them there, and watching their movements with a keen eye everywhere. A* his age—and but few attain bis age at all—ordinary men are either buried in or are sinking ihto second childhood, “sans sight, sans teeth, sans everything,” but there were few more active men on the parade field than William was that day. The enthusiasm with which his sou “Unser Fritz,” was received was only a trifle less hearty than that which greeted the aged emperor. “Fritz” is himselt an old man in years now, and a grandfaiher, but as young a looking grandfather as ever I beheld. He is, like his father, a tall, well-built, muscular, soldier-iike man, with a pleasant, even benevolent face, and a bright and cheerful eye. He roue by his father during the day, and the two made a handsome picture as they galloped over the plain. The enthusiastic cheering broke out afresh when the daughter of Queen Victoria, the crown princess of Germany, mounted upon a white horse, rode by at the head and in command of a detachment of troops. She is 42 years of age, a granumother, and as full of life as a girl of 16. In every review held during the autumn she took an active part, being in the saddle at Breslau with her imperial father-in-law for over five hours. She has the bearing of a princess, and no matter how it may shock my democratic Ameri can readers, 1 must say there is some thing in the appearance of the imperial family ot Germany—I don’t pretend to know or to say what it is—which raises them above the level of ordinary people. it is sheer nonsense to say that the peo ple of Germany are not pleased with the present order ot things. Why, it was only three mouths ago that the workingmen of Dresden gave the Emperor one of the grandest ovations he ever had. They t/vdr the horses from hie oarriego, stooni- dered the vehicle and bore il through the streets, while 500,000 people yelled and cheered for William until exhaustion com pelled them to keep quiet. This was in the capital city of the kingdom which, in the past, has been less friendly than any of the others to Prussia, and where evi dence of disloyalty would be moet likely io appear, if any disloyalty existed. When the workingmen, so called, are sat isfied in any country, with any form of government, what more could be asked? Pen Lm CluUse. A vast multitude of people visited G&mbetta’s tomb at Pere la Chaiae the day after the interment, and it is evi dent that the spot where he is buried will for years be the oue most sought iu a cemetery which is known the world over, and in which repose the remains of many of the illustrious dead of France. In 1791 Interments within the limits of French cities were prohibited, and in 1804, when Louis XIV gave a part of his estate to his confessor. Pere de Lachaise, for a cemetery, the ground was outside of the eity. It is now in a thickly-settled suburb, and so crowded that burial there is impossible except to the wealthy. It is somewhat remarkable that although Gambetta had declared himself in favor of crema tion, nothing has beeu said since his death about the cremation of his re mains, The crowded condition of the Paris cemeteries has resulted iu the in troduction in the Chambers of a meas ure to legalize cremation. In Mont Parnasse and Mont-martre bodies are placed above each other to the number of five or six. Pere la Chaise, situated on an elevation which commands a view of the city on one side and of the coun try on the other, is the beet known of the cemeteries of Paris, and in it were buried Abelard aud Heloise, LaFontaine, Moliere, Beaumarchais, Bellini, Weber, Laplace, Cuvier, Marshal Ney, aud many others whose names are familiar in all lands. Time will doubt 1 uss make the grave of Gambetta less' conspicuous than others contained in the famous cemetery, but during the present gener ation it will be the centre of interest iu Pere ia Chaise. Philosophers nave told us that all ener gy upon the earth must have been brought into existence by solar influence. Prof. Milue has, however,'called the attention of the Selsmological Society of Japan to the fact that one vaat reservoir of energy,quite independent of the sun. has hecn overlook ed, viz: the earth’s internal heat. It is not impossible that the surface out-crop pings of this inexbaustdble supply of force —found in volcanoes, h t spring*, and the like—may, in the near luture, be used to generate electricity for transmission to neighboring cities, where it may be put to practical service. —A valuation of $400,000,000 in round numbers is reports 1 on property in Texas this year. Fancy Flower Fote. The best pots tor plants are undcubt- ly those of common red clay, such as you see in every greenhouse. They are cheap, porous aud not unsightly if kept dean. The florists all use them, and that is a proof of their excellence. If there was a better kind, all things considered, those who make & business of raising plants would soon And it out. If you don’t think the red pots are ele gant enough for your ajiartment you can cover them with the lattiee work cache- pots which can be obtained at any seed store at a cost of from fifteen to fifty oents, If you want to be elegant, with still less expenditure, maks your cacti- pots of paper. Take a strip of glazed aud rather stiff paper, of a width, cor responding to the height of the pot and long enough to go three times afauml the pot’s top circumference. Gathei this from end to end, like a fan, iu folds from half to three-quarters of au inch in width; run a oord through the folds at the top and bottom. Now glue the two ends together, set your pot in, draw up the cords till the paper fits the pot at the top and bottom, and year jardiniere is made.