The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, March 08, 1883, Image 1
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION.
WINNSBORO. S • 0.. MARCH 8. 1883.
ESTABLISHED 1848
THE BIONS Or i'ELB SEASON*.
What does it mean when the bluebird flies
over the hill, singing sweet and clearly 7
When violets peer thro’ the blades of grass?
These are the signs that the Spring is here.
What does It mean when the berries are riper
When butterflies flit and honey-bees bum ?
When cattle stand under the shady trees ?
These are the signs that Summer has oome.
What does It mean when the crickets ohirp?
Xnd away to; he south-land the wild geese steer?
When apples are falling and nuts are brown?
These are the signs that Autumn la here.
What does It mean when the days are short ?
When the ieavea are gone and the brooks are
dumb?
When the Helds are white with the drifting snows?
These are the signs that Winte. has come.
The old stars set and the new ones rise,
And skies that were stormy grow bright and
clear,
And so the beautiful, wonderful signs
Oo round and round with the changing year.
GERARD UANGTON’S SECRET.
It was in a luxuriously furnished
room where a glowing grate threw ge
nial light and w&rmth upon the occu
pants, that Gerald Langton, lawyer and
millionaire, listened with bated breath
and pallid cheeks to a low. and melo
dious voice that told the story of a life.
The speaker, a beautiful woman of
about thirty, yet ten years younger
than Mr, Langton, reclined m a low
cushioned chair, ber dress, her attitude,
both speaking of the ease wealth gives,
but her face was full of the deepest
angliish, as her lips recounted this
storv.
“You love me,” she said, gently, yet
sadly, “and I love you as I never loved
anyone before, although I am a widow.
That you knew, bat you did not know
my husband's name. By my ancle’s
last request I dropped it and took his,
with the property he left me. Do not
look at me tenderly, Gerald, do not
shake my voice or my heart, for when
you know whom 1 am, you will not
repeat the offer you have made me,
aud which, Heaven is my witness, L
tried to avert. ”
“Let your conscience be at rest
there,” said her listener, in a grave yet
tender voice; “yon have never given
me oae hope, Maude. By what instinct
1 Knew that you loved me I can never
tell, something in yoar eyes—some
tone of yoar voice betrayed you. If,
as you say, something in your past life
does separate us, you have been no
ceqnette to torment me with false hopes,
Bui, Maude, tell me again, whatever
stands between us, you love me?”
“I love you,” she said, gravely '‘and
it is because 1 love you that 1 wiill not
let you link your honorable name with
lhat of the wretch who was my hus
band. 1 was very young—not sixteen
—when he came to make a visit to
some iriends living at Grassbank.
Uncle Richard has a country neat near
me village. I first met Aleaxander at
a picnic, where he was the very life of
the party, everybody’s cavalier, court
eous to ail, lull of wit and animation
and service for all. I believe every
girl at the grounds thought she had
captivated him, his attentions were so
well oivided, and yet so impressive to
each one. Me claimed to be no more
tnau a salesman in a large wholesale
house with a good salary, but he had
the manners oi a gentleman, a good
education, and the most perfect beauty
of face and form that I ever saw in a
man. It was not long before it waa
evident that he wished to win my love,
and fie had \ an easy task. Bach love
as a child of sixteen can give, I gave
hum He was the impersonation of
every hero of poetry aud fiction with
whom my limited reading had made
me familiar School-girl like, I had
made an ideal hero, and fitted this, my
first admirer, with all his imaginary
perfections. ,
“From the first, Uncle Richard dis
liked mm, pronouncing him false and
shallow, ana assuring me lhat my per
sonal attractions had not won Ins heart;
but that the tact of my being an heiress
to a large property had gained me the
protestations in whien 1 so firmly be
lieved.”
“it is a painful story to me now,
Gerard. Let it suffice that I lived in a
world of delicious dreams while Alexan
der remained at Grassbank. When he
left, he carried my promise to be his
wife at Christmas.”
“I think if my money had depended
upon Uncle Richard that my marriage
might have been prevented by tus
threatening to disinherit me. but both
from my father and my mother I had
inherited money that made me inde
pendent, in a pecuniary sense, of his
control or consent,”
“Most grudgingly, however, my uncle
did eonseut,* after searching inquiry
about Alexander, resulting in no worse
report than that his employes thought
loin fast, idK and just the man to be a
lortune-hunter. Even then my dear
uncle would have protected my fortone
by settling it strictly upon myself; but,
with the reckless generosity of extreme
youth, 1 refused to have thia done.
■Never, y vas firmly oouvineed, would
my auored Alexander wrong me in any
way.”
“For a year after the splendid wed
ding that made me Alexander’s wife I
was very happy. I was too ignorant
of the value of money to understand
that we were living far beyond our in
come, and enjoyed to the utmost the
luxuries surrounding me—the constant
gaiety that was in such etroug contrast
to the school routine from winch i had
just been released.”
“Then began a life of neglect, often
of quarrelling^ when 1,objected to my
minuend's. course of conduct -his
drinking, his extravagance, a»id his
late hours. Still 1 found my own
pleasures in society and a renewal of
some of my favorite studies, especially
languages and music. 1 was fond, too
cl water-color painting, and made pre
sents to my friends of specimens of my
skid in that line.”
“It was four yean after my marriage
when i waa thunderstruck oy Alexan
der asking me to request a loan of
money from Uncle Richard, with the
information added that every penny of
my property was gone. Binoe then I
have known th^t a large proportion of
it was lost at the gaming-tables.”
“Long before this I had lost all love
for my husband. Respect had died
out when I knew the dissipated life he
was leading, and, foolish as I waa, I
could not continue to love a man whom
I despised. I refused the errand, and
brought down a torrent of such gross
abuse that I reaUy expected .Alexander
would end by striking me,”
“Day after day the request was re
newed, but I would not yield. Upou
my marriage Unde Richard had sold
his city residence and taken np a per
manent abode at Grassbank, where
knowing my husband to be an unwel
come guect, I never visited him. I
wrote occasionally, bnt the love of
years, like that of father and child,
had been so sadly strained by my per
sistence in marrying Alexander, that
even our correspondence was languid
and commonplace.”
“I would not, therefore, write to him
to ask a favor that I knew would not
have been necessary withont criminal
recklessness of expenditure, and each
refusal made my husband more furious.
Then came an overwhelming blow.
Alexander forged a check, and drew
two thousand pounds of Uncle Richard’s
money from the bank. I dq not think
my ancle would ever have prosecuted
him had he guessed who was the for
ger; bat he handed the whole matter
over to the lavr as soon as it was dis
covered that the oheox was forged. It
was traced 'to Alexander, aud at the
same time it was found that he had
robbed in the same way his former
employers. He had given up all work
upon iris marriage; bat when he found
Ininself without money, his knowledge
of the busines enabled him to ferge the
check of Derkiss and Oo. Even if
Uncle Richard had spared him for my
sake, this otner forgery would have
entitled him to penal servitude. He
was sentenced to seven years, and
Uncle Richard took me home, full of
heavenly pity and iorgiveuesu for the
ohild who nad treated him so ungrate
fully.”
“Then yoar husband is in prison?”
asked Gerard in a hard, strained voice.
“No, no; lie is deadl He died within
the first year. Unde Richard saw the
death in the paper and sent the money
for his bunal. No; I am free; bat none
the less I am the widow of a convicted
felon.”
“But none the less,” quoted Gerard,
“the woman I love and houor above
all others, and hope still to make my
wife.”
It took, however, more than one
interview, full of lover's pleading, m
win Maude from her resolution. Bhn
so honored her lover, was so proud of
his good name and the positiomhe had
attained by his talents, that her sensi
tive nature shrank from even the shadow
of her misery falling upon his life.
But the victory was won at last, aud
the lawyer walked home one evening
full of a proud, glad joy, for Maude
had promised to be his wite,
“If you are willing to take Alexander
Hull’s widow for your wife,” she had
said, “I will not oppose you longer,
for I love you with ail my heart.”
He had no thought but of diat glad
triumph when he turned up the gas in
his office. He was m the habit of
making a last visit there before going
np to His bed-room, in case notes or
messages had been left for him. One
lay there on this evening, a shabby-
looking envelope, but directed in a
bold, handsome hand that he recog
nized at once.
He tore it open. A' v er a few Words
of introduction the note ran:—
“You did the best you oould for me
ou my tiial, bnt the facts were too
strong for you. I have now a last favor
to ask of yon. I die, as you know, at
noon to-morrow. You, as my lawyer,
can see me at any time. Will you
oome as soon as you receive this, and
win the gratitude of the man yon know
as “James Fox?"
“The man I know as James Fox,”
muttered the lawyer; “(he smooth,
plausible scoundrel who actually made
me believe him innocent of the hideous
murder for which he was convicted. I
can find extenuation for some murders,
but this cold-blooded assassination of
an old man for money only was revolt
ing. How he deceived me, though for
a time) And how he exalted over iis
success in doing so when, as he says,
facts were too strong! Shall I go to
him? I suppose I must. It is still
early.”
It was not yet mi4nig|it when Ge
rard Langton was ushered into the sell
of the man. who in-a lew-short hoars
was to meet the extreme penalty of the
law ior the worst crime.
Yet there was nothing revolting in
the appearance of the omfiinal. Has
dress was neat^his hair carefully ar
ranged, his mustache faultless, his
hands white and.refined looking. He
rose from fils seat upon the bed as his
lawyer entered his cell.
“1 knew you would come,” he said,
courteously, “though you were offended
my w£ut of frankness. Well, that
is all over! You will not refuse the
last request of a dying man, Mr. Laug-
tou?”
“Not if I can grant It,” Waa the reply.
“This,” said the murderer, “is not
my first offence against die law. Borne
Years ago I was sentenced tor a term of
years for a forg.ry. By a strange aooi-
Ueut I escaped the penalty. On the
same day James Fox was sentenced
to two years for petty larceny, and we
were sent together to prison. James
Fox—my companion, understand, not
myself—was deranged, bat his lawyers
hud not been able to save him, as his
aberration waa not always apparent.
When we were entered upon the books
of toe prison, imagine my amazement
when my feliow-pciaoner gave my name
for his own. Like a flash 1 saw toe
advantage to be gained by the decep
tion, and allowed toe error to pi
My companion committed suicide, aud
1 escaped with two years' imprison
ment, instead of seven, fiat I feared
recognition, and went to ; Canada.
There I lived by my wits until a year
ago, when I returned here to try to
raise money from my wife, and thought
I saw an easier plan by committing the
crime for which I die to-morrow. But
I want to see my wife. I wronged her
—I robbed her—but Heaven is my
witness I lovod her. When I was put
in prison she dropped my name, and
took her own again. So It is not for
Mrs. Alexander Hull you must go, but
for Mrs. Maude Temple ”
Was the room reeling—the ceiling
falling—the wall closing around him?
Gerard Langton felt as if they were, as
the pames fell on his ears. Maude—
his Maude—the Wife of this'ooo! villian
who talked of his hideous crimes as if
they were ordinary events? Well, he
knew that to carry this man’s message
was to aeparafe himself from Maude for
ever. Never would she let. him marry
the widow of a murderer 1 Very |apidly
all the terrible facts pressed onC after
another upon his brain, and he said,
“If you Jove her. why add a now misery
to her life. She may have lived down
the old pain yon caused her; why, for a
selfish gratification will you make her
whole life a misery?”
“She is my wife! I would bid her
firewelL”
“She is not your wife! Your own
crimes have released her from any alle
giance to you!”
“You know her?”
“Yes! I know what she has suffered,
and beg of yon to let her still believe
you died years ago.”
“She is happy?”
“Scarcely that. Such wounds as
hers never heal entirely, but it is cru
elty to tear them open when they are
quiet!”
“Has she married?”
“No! She is still your widow!”
‘ It is hard to deny myself one more
sight of her face, and the hope I had
that she would say she forgave me!”
“Thiuk of her, not of yourself!’’
There was a long silence in the cell.
Every throb of Gerard Laugton’s
heart was a pain to him, but Alexander
Hull sat in moody silence, evidently
reluctant to give up his wish.
At last he spoke.
“You have been very good to me.
Tell me, now, if you have any personal
reason for your request. Perhaps—
you love her?' 1
*‘I do!” was the brief reply. “She
has promised to be my wife!”
“Then it will be James Fox who is
hanged to-morrow! I meant to give my
real name up, but I will carry my se
cret to my grave. It may be in anoth
er world even the little last self-denial
will be a plea for me. Go now. You
may trust me.”
And he kept his word, and Gerard
Langton his seorot.
When. Maude, a few weeks later, be
came his wife, she little guessed the
terrible ordeal which he had spared
her, or the added disgrace that belonged
to the name she had given up.
‘Great Scott/*
The other morning, while the urbane
manager of Woodward’s Gardens was
smoking a four bit cigar and meditatively
listening to the muffled wails of a tom-cat
that had just been swallowed alive by the
big anacouda, a tall, thin, scientific-look
ing man, with a goatee and blue glasses,
entered the gate and remarked in an in
sinuating manner:
“Of course you pass the scientific frater
nity ?”
1 ’Of course yje do not, ’’said the show man
“What, not the savans, not toe pionee>»
in the great march of the mind into the
hitberland of the infinite beyond?” re
turned the Profestor, with great surprise.
‘1 will not deceive you,’’ sercaslically
replied the proprietor of the only salaman
der ; “we pass nothing but the quills on
the fretful porcupines—1 mean the press.
You can’t see the ostndges unless you
come down and put up.”
Dear me, dear me 1 ” sighed the scien
tist reflectively. “To think that a profes
sor of cosmogrephic conchology should be
denied admittance td a third-class Zx>l
Has the skamgatibus been fed yet 1”
Skam which I” asked the tiger im-
Bavoae of UM Coast.
The surf men at Smith's Island, on the
Northampton shore of Virginia, rescued
.the crew of the Albert Dally, of Augusta,
Me. on the nighi of the 7th of January.
On the foi<owing day Mr. Cobh’s wreckers
went on board in spite of the protestation
of Keeper Hitchens, of the LiTe Service.
That night the storm * was terrific. The
aurtmei succeeded in reaching a point
opposite the wreck,, on which were the
satlorS so 1 wreckers, at S A M. of the 9th.
Only the masts appalled in dim outline,
while the hull was completely submerged.
Several .jUoston signals were burned to
cheer the men on the wrack and to enable
the surfmen to determine more accurately
the position of the Vessel. It was detrr-
jntoed to make an attempt to rescue them
‘with'the boat, but dLer proceed) ng acme
distance the surfmen could see nothing of
the sctiboner and were forced to return to
thC&hore. When ,lt was light enough to
see the vessel the safety line, discharged
from the Lyle twice thrown
hcckis the jibboota of .the vessel, but as bo
-attempt was made by those ou board to get
the line hauled in by the surfmeu,
am| each tij^e, it*parted Two more efforts
to shoot the line over the wreck proved
unsuccessful, owjng to a strong adverse
Wind and the frozen condition of the line,
which caused it to part before it reached
the destmed point. Rad the line been
thrown full across the vessel, it would
have availtd nanght, as Mr. Oohb stated
that they were too benumbed with cold to
Jrave handled it on board, even if it had
been placed in their hands.
Seeing then that the only hope of saving
the Imperiled men lay in reaching them
with the suif-boa*, Keeper Hitcheas and
hirerew, as soon as the ebbing tide al
lowed them to launeb, set. out through the
stoi m and the sea, which was running half-
mast high to the rescue of the niue men
(five of the schooner’s and four of the
Uopp Wrecking Company), who had been
left on the stranded vessel and who oould
now be seen laqhed to the rigging.
Keeper Hitchens and his men, though
they had been out ou the beach all uigbt
hi the terrible storm without fire or tood,
drenched to the skin from their fizsl effort
to board the vessel, and keeping their feet
from freezing only by wading in the salt
water of the sea, yet rushed with alacrity
to their duty. The boat was launched
and stalled on its perilous journey, but
the current was so strong that the men
weie cut to leeward and the boat fore s 1
inshore. Lauuching the boat again thjy
got far enougU out to re ich the line which
waa fast on board the wreck, but the sea
waa runniug so high that it was snatched
from the hands ot the men who held it
and again they were driven ashore. An
other power!u! effort was made to reach
the wreck, and this time they succeeded.
One of the mts outtus .wseok, Edward
Hunter, 6f Maine, the steward of the
rchoouer, who refused to go up in the rigg
ing, had been washed overboard and lost
about daybreak. The remaining eight men
were carried ashore—four at a time—
dreadfully benumbed by their long expo
sure to the cold. Richard Gordon, a
member of the Cobb wrecking crew, died
from the effects of exposure just about
the time he reached the shore.
porter.
“The
You've got one,
Bkamgatibus.
haven’t you f”
“Y-e-a-s; 1 believe we’ve a small fe
male somewherea,” said the grizzly’s friend
doubtfully.
“I never knew a first-class collection to
have less than two pair,” ;said the Profes
sor contemptuously. “How do your Azi
muths stand this cold weather, el ‘
‘•Azimuths 1’’ asked-the Napoleon
gregator of cunosiiiqk: “what’s thefent
Some neyr .Mud of bird—you don’t mi
ofltri >v f ** ^
“Ostridges be hanged 1’UfeidHhe sm
sor of Darwin; “ostridges are nothing.
I’ve shot mo*o ostridges with quail shot
than you've got hairs on your head. Tr>u
don’t actually mean to sit there and tell
me yon haven't got a single azimuth to
your back?”
“Don’t believe 1 have,” admitted Ihe
alligator breeder, mortified; “what aie
they like ?’’
“Ou, they’re of the order Spinalis aplc
mntis, about eight feet hign. Fur peels
off-in the spring, you know—the Siberian
species. 1 mean. ' I suppose you 're got one
ot those rectangular Aft roan flipgoohiies
that reached New York the other day!’’
“No; I’m darned if I did,” said the
much agitated showman. “Here I’ve
been keeping an agent in New York on a
big salary to look out for attractions, and
he doesn’t catab on to the first blamed
thing. Spends all our money on second
hand panthers and. kangaroos with the
rheumatics. I’ll bounce him by telegraph!”
“Haven’t even got a flipgoohly, eh f ”
mused the scientUt, in a tone of great pny,
“And 1 sb luidn t be surprised if you didn’t
have a golden-crested cuspidor in your
whole show.”
“Neither 1 have ; neither I have,” re
plied the wietebed promoter of pelicans,
in a tone of great bitterness. “S’pose yon
lust step m, sir, and look round: mebbe
laere’s something else yon could say ”
“N-n- ■, I guess not,” said the tall man.
“It would baldly psy me to spend so
much valuable ecieanfic time in a fourth-
class show like this. Not even on azi
muth, eh ? 1 should think you’d be afraid
of being actually mobbed some time. I’m
sorry for you, my good man: sorry for
you. I’ve no doubt you mean well, but
—not a solitary skamgatibusf Great Scott! ”
Rotns’a Ruins.
Kiillug Deer with Axe*.
account of
A correspondent gives an
deer in the forests of Marne and the laws
of that State to protect them. A number
of years since a law was passed forbidding
the killing of moose, deer or carsrbou be
tween the first of February and first of
October, and forbidding the hunting of
them with dogs at any season, under a
penalty of $40 tor each offence. But this
law did not protect the game in the
deep snows of January hunters from dist
ant States, as well as those in Maine,
killed thousands of the animals in the deep
snows, ia many cases using only axes for
killing them as they drove them into the
deep snow-banks, the hunters going on
snow-shoes. In 1873 the legislature for
bade the hunting or Killing of the animals
in January, as well as in ail the following
months to October. Alter this the deer
increased rapidly, and at times they even
mingled with the herds of farmers.' The
lumbermen could kill enough for their
own use without going a great distance
from their cabin doora In a few years
these laws were disregarded, and hunters
came into the forests in the winter and
slaughtered thousands and sent their car
casses to the Boston and other distant
markets. In 1876 the Legislature made a
law imposing a fine of $40 for each car
cass «r hide sent out of the State. This
law, served a good purpose ia protecting
tfie^ game, though- itr inay be questioned
whether it was not-a stretch of legislative
•power In interdicting commerce between
tbe States. However, mT878 ioflueccees
were brought to bear which secured a re
peal of the law forbidding the exportation
of carcasses and hides, sad since then the
deer, caribou and moose have been grow
ing scarce, and the subject of making
more alnngent laws to proieet them is dis
cussed. As the work of destruction ia
now going on. not only the larger wild
mune but the forests of this country will
disappear in a comparatively britf period.
Jv wishbones were
keys might ride.
homes then tor
CollecHnK tbe Damegm-
“1 am a quiet, unostentatious man, and
never harm nobody,” said the intruder,
moistening the palms of his hands and
taking a firmer grasp of the axe-helve,
“but if you don’t come down with $17 to
soothe my lacerated feelings there will be
trouble here in Austin.” “Was the boy
bitten sc very badly by my dog I” asked
the terrified owner of the animal, who la
one of the most timid men in Austin “He
was bitten just $17 worth,” replied tbe in
truder, Awifigtirg the weapon around his
bead. “Here is your money,” replied the
owner of the dog. Tue intruder put the
mdney in his pocket, and was about to
leave, when the proprietor of the dog re
marked : *T hope your sou was not bitten
badly.* 1 “Why, he alr’t my son. I
haven’t got any son.” “Whose sor, ia he
then, and how did you come to demand
tbe money of me 1/ “He is the son of a
friend of mine who owed me $17, and he
didn’t have any money. The only avail
able aseete he had were tboee dog bites on
his sob’s body, and be turned' them over to
me for collection, and I have collected
them,” “Well, I declare I” “And stran
ger,” continued the man with the axe-
ban die, “If you or fny of your family
ever ge» bitten by a dog, ami you want
toe damages collected promptly from the
owner of the dog, let me Know, and 1 will
do H for 26 per cent, net and f nt niah my
wn axe-handle."
W orks of excavation in Rome are gen
erally discontinued daring the summer
and autumn montoa. Tne laborers go off
to the corn and wine harvest a, where they
get better pay, but this year the excava
tions on the Forum, and along the side of
the f'al&tine facing the Temple of Romu
lus and the Basilica of Constantine, have
been conlMued with increasing activity.
The extent of ground broken Is something
unusua', and evidently Signor Baccelli ia
determined io do hia utmost to insure, at
far aa poeatble, the completion of his grand
scheme of archaeological exploration by
cutting out all the work he can. It com-
piises the restoring to light of all that re
mains of the building!) ami constructions
which surrounded and adorned the Roman
Forum; tne clearing of the entire area by
removing everything, of whatever nature,
superimposed upon it in modern times ;the
junction of the excavations on the Forum
with those on the Palatine by the comple
ting of both; the Isolation from—or rather
within- the modern city of the greater
part of the fourth,the eighth and the tenth
of the Augustan regions ot ancient Rome
which adjoined each other, and their
dedication to the memories coanectcd with
them.
Extensive cxcavatious have restored
much to light and have taught us much,
but the desolation remained almnat aa
great as before. These excavotions never
assumed any other aspect than that of a
number ot great holes, notwithstanding
that some of linm afforded considerable
space to walk about in. There was—as
regards the Forum—first, the hole betwesn
the masiive wall of the Tabutanum, with
the rear of the modern municipal buildings
siauding upon it on the one side and the
roadway passing from the Via Bonella to
the Via della Cousol.coine in trout of the
Arch of Septimus Severua on the other, in
whiobweie completely visible the remains
of the Temples of Saturn, Vespasian, hnd
Ccncord, the Rostra and the Arch of Sep-
timius Severus excavated in tbe time of
Pius VI1. Then on the further Bids of
that roadway there waa. until twelve years
ago, the small, uncieau hole dug at the
expense .of the Duchess of Devonshire in
December, 1818. This, between 1*70 and
1876, waa enlarged aa far aa the Temple of
Antoninus and Faustiua, aud ia 1878—a
second roadway peing left at that point—
another bole waa dug beyond,extending as
far as the Arch of Titus, and again the
works were suspended.
But a new impetus was given in Febru
ary last to the exploration of the Forum.
A seat iu tbs Italian Cabinet, and that seat
the head of the Department of Public In
struction, waa for the first time held by a
Roman, Signor Baocelli. The Roman ar-
ohssologuts were anxious to ascertain the
site of the Fabian Arch,of which no traces
had been found on eithe: side of the cause
way left from the Temple of Antoninus
and Faustina to the corner of the Palatine.
Its discovery would determine the vexed
queation of the course of tbe Sacra Via,
and there waa co difficulty in interesting
Signor Baccelli suffl iently to obtain his
permission to remove the causeway in
search of it. That search waa ineffectual
notwithstanding that some vouissoirs and
other details which had evidently formed
>arta ot the arch were found, but dhcover
tea of the greatest Interest were made.
Sufficient indications were obtained to sat
isfy many competent authorities aa to the
Lae of the Sacra Viaioonsiderable remains
of the Regia were found, aud other impor
tant discoveries were made at the very
spot where it waa necessary to discontinue
Che excavations. These only served to
stimulate unsatisfied interest. Among
othsr things a fragment of the celebrated
njsrble plan of Rome, dug up in the course
of the works, gave the plan of the very
where it waa found, and raised w
tionof the Via Nova.
Tne work accomplished so far ia a good
earnest of what we may look forward to
enjoying when the Palatine and the Forum
—the area within which the whole history
of Rome centered and can be studied—are
excavated aa completely aa the remains of
Pompeii, ca r ei tor with tbe same scientific
discernment, and placed, aa what la left of
that ancient city is, open to the easy com-
pretension of the most simple. What is
seen at Pompeii is seen completely and can
be understood. What is visible of the
Palace of the Caesars and other remains on
the Palatine and of the Forum can only be
seen by looking, aa 1 have said, into a
number of separate holes, and, when seen,
can only be imperfectly uncerstaod after
infinite puzzling.
Twelve years ago the queatieu of the
direction of the Forum-did It extend
north to aonth toward the Arch of
Titus, or from east to west toward the
Circus Maximus—waa atill a matter of
controversy. Certainly they were few
who continued to hold to the latter theory:
but, clear aa the case appeared to the ma
jority, there was then no visible evidence
that could be put forward aa decisive. Ten
months ago no one oould prove which of
the two streets running along the Formu
was the Sacra Via, and the theories as to
its course were many. The difficulty has
not yet been set at rest to the satisfactioa
of all, bat the weight of authority la agreed
that the excavations made last spring re
vealed the exact line of the celebrated
street “glorified by a hundred victories,”
and the removal of comparatively a few
more square metres of rubbish will aettle
the queation forever. There are, with one
or two unimportant exceptions only, no
longer any doubts as to the namee of the
templet and other remains standing on tbe
uncovered portion of the Forum. No one
disputes the fact that we can point with
certainly to the nuna of the temple which
Augustus built ou tbe spot where the bony
of “Great Julius” was burned, and to many
other hiatoric sights; but all this la still of
but limited educational value, for bewil
dering controverty is rife—and will con
tinue so until the whole anea is cleaned—
as to where the Oomitium, the Greccttasis,
the other Rostra and many more important
details were situa-ed. ,
Tha excavations on the Palatine have
also given most valuable result*, 'like
general topography of toe greater part of
the lmperiai.Pai*ce,and a few of tbe spots
where events connected with the lives and
deaths of some of theUnssn occurred, have
been ascertained beyond dispute. Wecau
look with certainty on portions of the edi
fices bait by Tiberius, Caligula, Domitian,
and Beptimlus Severn*, We know exact-
actly where the remains of those built by
Augustus and others are lying boned. We
can walk along toe gallery where Caligula
was murdered, and picture the scene de
9 very ppot
Qr&^ues-
scribed with such graphic power by Sue
tonius, and especially by Josephus, but
these are so far only detached facts, with
no connecting links visible, and may well
le likened to a few hnea of a palimpsest
deciphered here and there, while all the
rest lips hidden beneath the work of later
hands. It ia not so long ago that the lines
in which Statius mentions the colossal
equestrian statue of'Domitian on the For
um and the edifices around it were spoken
of aa & “stumbling block rather than an
auxiliary to antiquities. Now we can
stand upon the wreck of the pedestal of
that coiossus and look upon the rem&lma
of these c< ificta situated exactly aa Statius
describes them.
The excavations in progress will soon
reveal tuj spot behind the Temple of Cas
tor where he reminded hia contemporaries
they might unguardedly lose their money,
in like manner, when they are completed,
we ihall be able to tread, tA°p by step, the
route Ovid took (• Trist/’HI, 1, 27) from
the Fornm of Cmsar to the Palatine, and
recognize the buildings and sites he tells
us that he passed; that Otho followed
when he suddenly left Galba sacrificing in
the Templia of Apollo and hurried through
the Palace of Mlbdnus to the Velabrum,
and thenoe to the Golden Milestone, near
the Temple of Saturn, and all the other
localities, both within the palace and on
tne Forum,Tacitus and Suetonius mention
with such topographical exactness in their
records of the tragical death ot Galba; that
along which Cicero hastened after Fulvias
warning, from his house on the corner of
the Palatine, and convoked the Senate to
meet him in the Tempi* of Jupiter Stator
tbe same spot where Romulus centuries
before bad rallied his Romans, and close
to where their Sabine wives rushed from
the Palatine down among the combatants.
The clearing away of all the accumulation
and rubbish lying upou it, like the later
writing on a palimpsest, will enaole us to
put those bits together, to localize with ex
actness the sceues historians and other
writers have described, and make it possi
ble to study the events of Roman history
aa it has never been studied before on tbe
very spots and within the remains of the
very walla where they were enacted.
Ramarkabht Comets.
Geraniums In The Window.
It ia very rare to see a well-grown
geranium in window culture. Even if
the plant bloom fairly, they are often
drawn np, mis-shapen things, not
pleasing to look upon. In the majority
of cases, plants that have been set out
in the garden for the summer are al
lowed to “go as you please.” The roots
finding an abundance of rich soil, the
tope grow off at a famous rate. At the
approach of cool weather the plants
are taken up as they stood; if any out-
ting ia done, it ia at the roots, to
bring them within the limits of the pot,
and the plants are placed in the win
dow. Aa a consequence of such treat
ment, the majority of the leaves fade
and fall, and show a lot of long, lanky
stems, with a small tuft of leaves at the
top. This condition of the plants is
due either to a lack of knowledge or to'
timidity. Amateur cultivators, as a
general thing, seem to fear to oae the
knife; oonld the plant suffer pain, they
would not be more reinctant to out.
The proper method is, to prepare the
plants for taking in long before the
time for lifting them; but it is too late
to advise that, as it is to suggest prun
ing them at the time of taking them np.
Even at this late day it is better to out
back the geraniums to a good shape
than to let them remain as they are.
Of coarse each plant will have its own
needs in this respect, and only general
advice can be given. Cat back the long
stems in inch a manner that the plant
will form a low, rounded head, and re
move altogether snoh branches as will
make the head too much crowded.
Kamarkable Rands at Poker.
Foot members of a well-known olnb
in New York sat down to a game of
poker. There was a dollar limit, and
there was no desire on the par* of any
of the players to win much money. After
one deal three of them drew one card
each, except the dealer, who passed out.
The man on the left of the age bet one
dollar, the second man raised him one
dollar, and the age raised the pot an
other dollar. This was followed by
raises to the limit all around a second
e, when the roan who made the first
MlQI
feet
it said:
“Gentlemen, I ought to raise the bet,
bnt this is a sociable game, and I’ll not
crowd you. I will simply oalL ”
Without wai’ing for the others to bet
he laid face upward on the table the
deuce, tray, four and five of spadoe.
The fifth card he placed back upper
most.
The second mm said. “I feel the same
about this matter, I will simply eall.”
He then showed the deuce, tray, (mr
and five of diamonds, hiding the fifth
oard.
“I also call,” said the age, and he
displayed the denee, tray, four aud fire
of dubs. The fifth card of each was
then shown, and it was seen that each
had a straight flash of the same value.
The pot was divided.
It was a square game, and the hands
were not fL.?d.
The earliest obaerven of comets were
either among the Chinese or Chaldeans.
Among the moat ancient nations, espec
ially the Greeks and Romans, comets
were regarded as not only precursors
of evil, but frequently also of good fort
une. Thus in the year 344 B. C. tbe
appearance of a great comet was thought
to be a token of the success of Timo-
leon’s expedition to Sicily. Again, in
the year 134 or 132 B. C.,the birth of
tbe great Mithxidatea was signalized
by two remarkable comets whom bright
ness, we are told, eclipsed tost of the
moon-day son, and which occupied a
quarter of the heavens. The accession
of Mithridatea in the year 118 B. C. to
the throne of Pontns was likewise
marked by a celestial visitant of the
same nature. A comet which shone In
the year 86 B, 0. waa thought by Pliny
to have been the forerunner of the civil
commotions which took place daring
the consulship of Octavios, and another
which appeared in 43 B. C. waa be
lieved to be the sonl of Jalina Caesar
transported to the heavens. Later ou,
a number of Goniete, during the reign rf
Nero, were seized on by that emperor
aa pretexts for all kinds of perseention.
Tacitus, referring to one of these, re
marks that it was “a kind of presage
which Nero always expiated with noble
blood.” Josephus relates that in 68 A.
D., among the terrible omens which
foretold the doom of. Jerusalem, was a
comet with a tail in the shape of a
sword, which hang for a year over the
city, Comets were frequently regard -
ed in past times as the presages of the
death of some illustrious personage.
Comets are said to have foretold the
death of the Emperors Vespasian, Con
stantine the Great, and Valentinian, of
Attila the Hun, Mahomet, Louis the
Second, Richard Cesar de Lion, Philip
of Spain, Francis the Sjcond, and many
other potentates too numerous to men
tion. The hiatorian Sozomenes de
scribes a terrible comet which hung
over Constantinople in the year 400,
and was believed to be the cause of the
pestilence that devastated the oity.
During the Middle Ages comets were
almost universally considered aa fore
telling calamities. We read lees of them
as presaging an anspicious reign or
honoring the birth of a great hero, than
as the precursors of plague, famine, or
war. In the year 1000 it was popularly
believed that the world was coming to
an end, and it may be easily imagined
that men’s minds were in a state to ex
aggerate the importance of any phen
omena in the heavens. A comet which
waa visible in that year for nine days,
waa described as being shaped like a -
dragon, and as having many impossible
accompaniments. Shortly before Wil
liam the Conqueror crossed to Britain,
a comet with three tails made its ap
pearance, which was said by his oonrt-
iers to pro ve the divine right of the in
vader to too throne.
This comet has been proved to be
identical with that afterwards discov
ered by Halley, and had already ap
peared several times, in the year 684
A. D., 12 B. C., and possibly 135 B.
C„ in which case it was the same aa
that which announced the birth of
Mithridatea. Pi avion* to the time of
Newton the appearance and movements
of comets were a great puzzle to toe
philosophers, and numerous were toe
speculations as to their nature. The
Chaldeans had by no means a totally
false notion of the causes of toeir ap
pearance and dissapearanoe, attributing
them to toe fact toa^ihey revolve iu
orbits far above the moon, so as to be
only visible to os during a small portion
of their revolution. They were also
right in believing them to be of a na
ture allied to the planets rather than
mere atmospheric phenomena. This
view was adopted by the -'tronomer
Appolonins of Myndns, who •• Seneca
relates, receives his ideas from the
Chaldeans. It was also held by Dioge
nes, toe Ionic philosopher, that, Hip
pocrates of Chios, and several of the
Pythagorean schooL Seneca had the
same opinion. The great comet of 1861
created considerable of a sensation by
toe suddenness with which it blazed
oat, and the shortness of the time dur
ing which it was yisible in oar iati-
tudes.
Tne Quincy Market Cold Storage Com
pany, of Boston, are said to have the lar
gest refrigerating building m the world,
it is of stone and brick, 160 by 80 feet in
size, and 70 feet in height The capaeity
is 900,000 cable feet, the cost $200,000,
and toe ice chamber holds 600,000 teas of
ice. It will be used for storing dressed
beef and mutton. Thu Chicago refrigera
ting cars unload at the door.
Though not much of a conversation
alist, a mute might get alor.g yenj nice
ly in a spoke factory.
Pottery,
Modeling pottery ia as deligbtlul an
occupation as making mud pies. The
student, with a board on her lap or on
a table, takes up a lump of clay aud
kneads it to a proper consistency witu
water. With a little leaf-shaped wooden
knife she carves out a rose, and as each
petal is shaped she takes a camel's hair
brush and paints the Vhole flower, or
rather what she call slips—that is, water
made the thickness of cream with clay.
Iron pins are used for veining toe
leaves, and saoh bud ic copied from
the natural object placed before the
artist. During all these processes toe
Vase or article to be be decorated mast
be kept moist. If It is too wet, it will
melt swsy into day; if too <tty, it will
crack and break in
at last all toe
they are painted in
toe body of
tint.
>