Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. C.. MARCH 15. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 GOING OCT AND HOMING IN. Going out to fame and triumnii, Going ont to love and light, Coming In to pain and sorrow, Coming in to gloom and night. Going ont with joy and gladness, doming in with woe and sin; Ceaseless streams of restless pilgrims Going out and coming In. Through the portals of the homestead, From beneath the blooming vine ; To the trnmpet-tones of glory, Where the bays and laurels twine; From the loving home caresses, To the chill voice of the world, Going out, with gallant canvas To the summer breeze unfurled. Coming back all worn and weary, Weary with the world’s cold breath ; Coming to the dear old homestead. Coming in to age and death, Weary of all empty flattery, Weary of all ceaseless din, Weary of its heartless sneering Coming from the bleak world in. Going out with hopes of glory, Coming in with sorrow dark; Going ont with sails all flying, Coming in with mastless bark, Kestless stream of pilgrims, striving Wreaths of fame or love to win, From the doorways of the households Going out and coming In. A SEAL*SK1N COaT. I had always wanted one. ' I do not think I was more fond of dress than ordinary women, bnt I loved nice things. Beal laces, Velvets, and silks gave me positive enjoyment. Not that i might dress to outshine others; bnt I loved luxury; and, alas! we were poor —Leo and I. We were very young; I was eighteen, and my husband twenty-three. We had been married six months, and were keeping house in a nice little cot tage, plainly but comfortably famished, and which I made beautiful by varions uttle devices that cost nothing. Leo made a mistake, perhaps, in not telling me from the lint just what he could afford, and what he oonld not; bnt he was foolishly in love with his “Uttle wife,” and tned to gratify every wish of mine. * I was selfish and exacting, utterly undisciplined; and the more I thought about the cloak, the more I coveted it. I bad a neighbor, newly married, like myself, and she had a lovely cloak. I did not stop to consider that, al though Mrs. Aylmer’s husband was only a clerk, like mine, that she was a wealthy man’s daughter, who had given her an elaborate outfit. She v as calling upon me one day, and wore the elegaut cloak. “I do wish I had one!” I said, child ishly patting the glossy fur as she was leaving. “Make your husband get yon one! she laughed; adding, “Fred would get me anything.” “Leo, dear,” I said after supper, as we sat in our little sitting-room, “won’t you give me a seal-skin cloak like Mrs. Aylmer’s for a Christmas preseuIf” “But my darling,’’ he expostulated “Mrs. Alymer’s cloak cost four hundred dollars;at least.” “ Well, ”1 pouted, “four hundred isn’t such a vast sum, is it?” “No, dear, but infinitely more than we can afford. “You know my salary is small, and the famishing of this house, with a year’s rent in advance, took nearly all the money I had saved before onr mar riage. “Since then, 1 have laid up only one hundred. “So, little 6ne”—smiling fondly down upon me—“where am I to get the re mainder?” “Dear me, Leo,” I replied, pettishly, “can’t you make it some way—speculate or something? “Other men make money faster than you do.” • My husband’s face grew ery grave as he inquired, “Lulu, do you think 1 would deny you this if I could get it for you?” 1 know I was wrong, but I replied, sulkily, “If i had married Edwin Arm strong, he would have bought it for me.” I was frigntened at Leo’s white face as he rose to his feet, pushing me from him when 11 led to detain him. “Has it come to this,” he said, hoarse ly, “that yon regret having refused < richer man for me?” Without a word morehe left the room, and a moment later the house shook as he slammed the front door after him. The next morning he came and stood beside me. I thought he was going to put his arms around me, and take his good-bye kiss as usual, but he did nothing of the kind. He only said, “Lulu, I have found _ way to make some extra money, and you shad have the oloak; but unless you want to drive me mad, never repeat what you said last night.” He stooped, kissed my forehead, and left me; but somehow the prospects of ebtaiaing my wish failed to elate me." Christmas morning came. 1 went down early to the dining-room. A large box stood on a chair., I opened it eagerly, and lifted out the most brautiful seal-skin cloak I had ever seen; far surpassing S|rs. Aylmer’s. “It must have cost five hundred,” said, under my breath. “It is superb!” In the bottom of the box wss a card, on whioh was written:— “I bars fulfliled my promise, •Luo.’ Not a word of love not a Christinas wish. ' . With a heavy sigh I laid the cloak back in the box ss my husband entered. “Does it suit yon?” he asked, quietly. “It is very beautiful!” I said. “Where did you get the money, Leo?” “Never mind where!” he said, more harshly than he had ever spoken to me. “You have the oloak; are you satisfied?* ’ “Oh, yes, ’ I replied tightly, dnying back the tears that filled my eyes. “Only you are getting to be a regular bear.” evening there was a concert, Tuilst seated near Mrs. Aylmer (Leo had been prevented from escorting me owing to bosiness), I heard a conversa tion between two ladies, one of whom was relating some scandal about my husband; that it was whispered about he had taken to gambling. My heart stood still. Mrs, Aylmer was shocked. When I turned to her with, “Take me home,” she arose, explaining to her husband that “Mrs. Bay is ill,” and we passed ont. 8he tried to say something to console me, but I stopped her, crying, vehe mently, “It is all iny fault! “Let me alone!” They left me at my own door, and going in, I threw myself down on the floor in an agony of remorse and self- abasement. He came home at midnight; and, oh, he had been drinking! In the morning it was terrible—no one can know what my husband’s condition was except those who have seen a strong, upright man writhing nnder the lash of honest self-oondemnation after having yielded to a great temptation. It was no time to speak of my peni tence. He was oyerwhelmed with his own. At length he told me that he had gambled several times during the past month. "But, Lnlu, my darling wife, I never drank a drop ot liquor till now. “Last night Mr. Allen told me that he could not retain a gambler in bis em ploy. “Think cf it! “Oh, Lulu, Leo Boy a gambler!” And he bowed his head in an agony of shame. I said very little. What could I say, when I felt that all this was my doing? I took his hot head in my arms, kissed him tenderly, while the tears fell fast “I Jove you, my husband—I love you! The fault is all mine?” He was ill and worn out, and at length I left him sleeping. Now it was time to do something to prove my repentance. I dressed myself plainly, took the box containing the oloak In my arms and went with it to Lee’s, the eminent oos- tnmer. My courage did not fail when I asked to see the senior partner, and was shown into bin private office. “Mr. Lee,*’ I began, “i am Mrs. Leo Roy. “A few days ago my husband bought this oloak. for which he paid five hun dred dollars. “I wore it onoe only, a little while last night. “Will yon take it back at any price?” The old gentleman looked at me, thtn said, very kindly, “Would you mind telling me why you do not wish totetain it?” “Because my husband has nearly ruined himself to purohase it, and he would not have done so had I not insis ted apon it” The tears were very near now, but I kept them back. * I “You are a brave little woman,” Mr. Lee said. “I doubt not that you will make matters all right. “Under the circumstances, we will take back the cloak and give yon five hundred dollars, whioh is the price at whioh we shall offer it again.” I thanked him, and with the money safe in my purse, turned my steps to wards Allen and Qray’s where my hus band had been employed. The clerks looked curiously at me as I asked to see Mr. Allen alone. Twenty-four hours before I would have thought it impossible to do what I had gone there to do; bnt suffering had made a woman of me. I would never again be a spoiled child. I opened the subject abruptly. “My husband told me, Mr. Allen, that yon had discharged him because he was a gambler.” My face flashed hotly at the disgrace ful word. “I am very sorry,” he replied, oourte- ousljf “but it is au inviolable rule with us never to retain an employe after we know that he frequents snob places, and, unfortunately, we know this of your hus band.” “But, Mr. Allen,” I said, "it is all my fault. “He has never denied me anything, and when he refused me a seal-skin cloak I taunted him with the fact that 1 could have a richer man. “I drove him nearly mad. “I told him he might make the moaej some way if he would—I never thought of this, “I came here without knowledge his to beg that yon will take him back and give him a chance to regain what he has lost through my vanity and wicked ness.” Mr. Allen was visibly moved and finally said, “Well, Mrs. Ray, it is an uncommon case. “Your husband has been one of our most trusted employee, and we have re gretted his downfall greatly. “It is better that he should not know just now of yonr having been here. “He may come to me voluntarily; if he does, I will reconsider what 1 told him,” I drewfmy veil downjto hide the blind ing tears that would come, and Wont home. Leo was up waiting for me. He sat by the fire, and I knelt down beside him. “Oh, my husbandl” I cried, “if yon will forgive me for all that 1 have made yon suffer, for all the evil that I have lad you into, and take me to yonr heart again, 1 will be a good, true wife—a helpmate, not a hindrance. “But love me as you used to, or 1 shall die!” I broke down and sobbed bitterly. He lifted me in bis strong arms, and his lips trembled as he said, “Ob, my dear little wife, I have always loved you, “What about the disgrace I have brought upon you? “If you forgive me, do you suppose I can ever forgive myself.?” “Hush!” I replied. “Your great weakness has been that you could not bear to deny me anything, and upon me rests the blame of this miserable affair.” ,l ■ “Oh, my lovel” be said, “as if I did not know wherein I have sinned, and how low I have fallenl” After awhile I told him about the cloak. It was bitter humiliation to both of ns, bnt wo knew we were right, He wrote a note to each, of the men of whom he had won, enclosing the amount. Doubtless he had only been permitted to win in order that they might ruin him afterwards. Then he said— “Loin, I am going down to the office to see Mr, Allen; I don’t expect to be reinstated, but at Ibast I can let him know that I am fully sensible of my dis grace. I never knew what passed between the two men, bnt Leo was given his former laoe, and he told me that after that ong interview in Mr. Allen’s office tne matter was never referred to again. It was not until long aftorw&ids that he learned that I had been there before him. It was a bitter lesson for ns both. Leo never yielded to temptation again; and I was cured of my vanity, selfish ness, and temper. f< TTi* Rattlesnake saved Mis Life, Game there was none. We could not break camp now with our weak men upon our hands, and it only remained for some one to attempt the desperate journey ocross the San Juan range, by way of the Devil’s Pass, to Animas, and return with food or a rescuing party. Failing of that, spring time wonld find our cabin inhabited by corpses. We drew lots among ourselves, there fore, we well men, to decide who should undertake this penlons trip, and the risk fell upon me. It was best, perhaps, that it should have been so, for of all the party I best knew the trail. Without waste of words or time, I prepared myself for the journey, and thoroughly armed, early one morning, before the pale moon had fallen behind the western mountains, 1 bade good-by to my comrades and started. Turning my back upon the camp, I settled my course by a star, acd at a brisk pace steered southward. All day 1 continued on the trail, ever with a watchful eye for Indian signs—for 1 believed our old ene mies still in the viemity—but all day un molested, and at last, weary and worn, as the chill shadows began to creep across the great white plain behind me, I saw looming up in front the San Juan rantte, gashed with a narrow gorge—the Devil's Pass. Once through the horrible grave— for it was little else—and the road to Ani mas would be comparatively easy. My spirits rose hopefully. r As darkness came fairly down, I found myself just at the month of the canyon which led up to the pass, and deeming it a most sheltered place for a camping spot, I scon gathered a heap cf dead limbs be neath an overhanging rock where the scow had not yet come, built a roaring fire, which warmed and cheered me, and pre pared for the night. 1 felt little fear, for the narrow, frowning canyon would hide the light ot my fire from all the plain country. The only disturbance whioh I might look for would be the howling of the wolves, who threatened, but dared not attack me; and 1 cared not for them. With these comlorting reflections, there fore, I ate a hearty supper, drank & little melted snow-water, lit my pipe, and rol ling myself in my blanket, crowded close to the rock wall behind me, now well wanned by my flra. And so, in the flick ering light, protected on all sides, I gave myself unhesitatingly up to slumber. How long I slept I cannot say. It was deep in the night when I woke with a sud den chilL It was as if some one had touched me with a cold and clammy hand, but even before I was well awake my frontiersman’s caution returned, and I opened my eyes slowly and didn’t move. The fire was all but out and the ghostly light from its dying embers touched the snow and rocks and trees about with a strange color like thick blood. The air was growing chill and still, too, except for the cry of a coyote far up the canyon wall opposite, who whined and barked incess antly. There was something almost oppressive about the silence to me, when suddenly from just beyond my smouldering fire the sound of a step startled me, and before I had time even to move there was bending over me a hideous, painted face—the face ot a savage, and in his hand, already creeping toward my heart, was bis heavy scalping knife! To describe my sensation is impossible. ' Some terrible spell seemed to bind me. Not only was 1 facing a danger which meant instant death, but I was unable to move, oven in the attempt to save myself. It was as if 1 were fascinated. I tried to reason with myself. This Is but a single enemy—if I should spring upon him 1 might kill him and so be free; but although the reasoning was right, the action I was unable to bring about, and all the time the terrible knife drew nearer. The redskin knew that I was awake, and that I saw him, but he gloated over my heipiessaocs and delayed bis fatal blow. At last, however, 1 saw the gleam ot his eye, the tightening of his muscles, and knew that in an Instant more all would be over, when a sudden harsh, metallic rattle sounded, as if it were in my very bosom 1 felt something glide from my side—a long, scaly, snaky body shot out to meet the dusky on-coming arm. There was a blow then a cry of horror, and as the knife fell ringing to the earth a rattlesnake crawled slowly away, and' the Uncom- pahgre,* with his now nerveless hand out stretched and the blood dripping down from his parted fingers, with a long, wild death shriek turned and disappeared In the darkness. The rattler which my fire had drawn from his winter quarters had saved my life and the lives of my com panions. A week later, with a party of thirty good fellows 1 recrossed the San Juan range and rescued my party from starva tion and the 1 adieus; nad it is because of what that snake did for me m Devil’s Fan nigh on to twenty years ago, that I let the critters live to-day. —The Bight Rev. H. Churchill Bish op of Honolulu, arrived at HaH -x, N. S., yesterday from Liverpool. He will visit the United States. Swimming for Life. A RearlnK Blizzard. ‘Not Hackelt, “No sign of a sail yet, Jiml” “Nary one. Jack. I guess our time’s come.” Jim flackett had indeed some Cause for saying so,and he said it In a dejected tone, which was rare mdhed with him. To be afloat on a boundless sea without knowing where one is, or having any means of find ing out, is an awkward matter at best; hut but to be afloat in the middle of the Paeiflc without food or water, in an open boat, under a scorching sun, with not a sail in sight, might well make the bravest man despair. Blowly and wearily the two worn out mep (sole suryivurs of the fearful disaster which had destroyed the'r teasel and all their shipmates) rose v» tw* toot strained their blood *11 it eyes over the bright, merciless ss*. a sail, anywneres.” repeated despondently, “and we can’t catch one o’ them fish that's a frolickin’ around the boat by hunoreds. God help us!” “Bo He will, my boy, never fear. D’ye remember how, when we two were at school together in the old Bay Btate, our old teacher used to be always spuming a yam about some captain who (when his ship was '.ground and likely to go to pie ces any roinute), after he’d given his or ders and done all he could, said his pray ers and toy down to sleep; and the Admiral when he heard of it, said he was the bravest mau he’d ever known? Now, Jim, let’s just say our prayers, and then have a nap, for I reckon we’ve done all we can, and the rest’s in better hands than ours. ” No ear but God’s heard the short, sim ple prayer which the doomed men uttered, in their extremist need, from the miusi of the desolate sea. A few minutes later both were sound asleep under the scanty shelter which the mg of sail could give against the life destroying heat of the sun. They slept for some time, but at length the Increasing coolness ot the evening air after the scorching Ifeat of the day began to have its natural effect upon the 2 sleep ers. They awoke almost at the same mo ment, rubbed their eyes, and then sat up and looked around them. The sun was beginning to sink, but eve rything was still as light as noonday, and a fresh breeze had sprung up, rutfling the smooth surface into countless ripples. “Jim,’’cried Jack, suddenly in tone of great excitement, •‘your eyes are better'n mine; lock Out there to the nor’west, and see if you make out anything. ” “1 guess i do,” cried his companion, joyfully. “Hold on a minute till I make sure. Yes, it is, sure enough—it's a sail!” W ith clenched teeth and straining eyes the 2 castaways stood watching the dis tant speck on which hung their only chan ces of life. All at once a kind of spasm shook their rugged faces as it became ter ribly evident that the course which she was steering would not bring her anywhere near the boat. They tried to signal with the remnant of their sail, but it was neither large enough nor high enough to be seen at suqb a distance. They made frantic efforts to about, but the feeble cry which their par ched throats could utter would not have been heard 50 yards off. . Suddenly, just when all hope seemed gone, the wind shifted, and the vessel was Mien to alter her course. The castaways raised a faint hurrahjbut in another moment Jim’s keen eye percei ved that although this new tack would bring the ship much nearer to them than before, she would still pass at a considera ble distance from them, and might very easily miss seeing them altogether. “There’s one way now, mate, ^ said he firmly, “and I’m a going to try it, for it's neck or nothing with us now. God bless yen, my boy!” A lend splash followed the words, and Jim Hackett, looking up with a start, saw his companion’s round black head already several yards away from the boat. But he saw something else, which startled him even more, and that was a huge black ob ject, wmch rose suddenly through the smooth, bright water, and aarted swiftly and silently in pursuit of his unconscious comrade. “Look out, Jack!” shouted he, with all the power of his falling voice, “here’s a shark!” “Scarcely had he spoken when a second shark appeared and the daring swimmer found himself beset on both sides at once. His only chance was to make as much stir and spta shing in the water as possible, thus ke c ping the cowardly seapirates at bay ; but the effort exhausted even more rapidly his fast-failing strength. What a terrible long way off the vessel seemed! and supposing she were to filter her course again, where would he be ? Instinctively be glanced back toward the boat. The boat was gone! Gone, as if it had never been—hidden behind the long smooth swells that rose high above hi* head every moment. There was no return for him now, for he knew not even which direction to take; and on he went, struggling for life with limbs that grew weaker at every stroke, while the cruel eyes and gaping jaws on either side drew closer and closer, hungering for their prey. “Sam,’’said a keen-eyed sailor to his chum, glancing over the vessel’s port quarter, “ain’t that mighty like a man, somehow?'’ “A man!’* echoed the passing captain, bringing bis teleacopejto his eye. “Thun der ! so it L! Pat her head about, smart, and stand by to lower the boat t” The help came none to soon, for Jack was so spent that he could only gasp out, “My mate—yonder—boat.” But it was quite enough. Half an hour later Jim Hackett was safe on board likewise; and the two rescued men lived to tell their children and grandchildren the story of their adventure in the Pacific. Tne practicability of utilizing the vari ous known coal deposits in Java continues to meet with attention at the hands of the Dutch Government, thus far, however, without substantial results. At present only one mine is in active operation, and production during the year 1881 amounted to 5345 tons of block, and 2S81 tons of small coal The quality of the coal is similar to that of fair Australian, and in working the mines no more than the usual precautions have to be taken against the explosions of fire-damp and other accidents ot a similar nature. A correspondent, travelling through Dakota and that section, met a resident of the treeless plains, who told him this bliz zard experience : 1 came out here three years ago last summer, bought a quarter section, sent to Bt. Paul for a bill of lum ber and worked all summer putting up a house and barn. In the fall I bought three horses and a sulky plow, and com menced turning up the black prairie soil Before the ground froze I had about thirty acres ready to sow with wheat in the spring. Then 1 went east to see Mabel and after the holidays brought her back with me. By the middle of January we had got the furniture put to rights, and were settled down to enjoy married life* A few things were wanted for the honse, however, and one bright, sunshiny morn ing I hitched two of the horses to a bob sleigh, and Mabel and 1 drove to the vil lage due noith trom my house six miles. A pleasanter morning I never saw. There was snow enough to make excellent sleighing, and the air was warm and bal my. It seemed as if spring was near at hand, but a worse delusion never existed, “The village has but one street, being merely a row of twenty or thirty wooden buildings parallel to and about ten rods from the railroad track. They are mainly used for st >res, and when we drove up there were three or tour bob sleds or pungs in front of each store. Half the farming community of the township appeared to be in doing some shopping. About one o’clock, while we were in a dry goods store, the merchant, who had stepped out a minute before, said to us: ‘I don’t like to drive away my customers, hut a blizzard is coming from the west, and it is coming fast, so you have got no time to spare if you are going home to dav.’ “He rolled up our purchases as he spoke and appeared to be in a hurry to get rid of us. When we got outside the store the first thing that attracted my attention was the fact that, of all the teams m the street when we arived, not one, excepting mine, remained. Everybody had scudded for home. Even then I did not hurry. The sun was shining brightly, with not the faintest suggestion of a storm apparent anywhere. Before we had got a mile from the town I had forgotten all about the coming storm, and tiie horses were jogging at their will. “We were still two miles from home, when suddenly the sun was obscured, and the air grew old and chill in a moment. A darkness as of smoke swept over every thing. Then I remember why we are go ing home, and I gave the horses the whip in earnest, lashing them into a run. Away off in the west there appeared to be a leaden wall sweeping toward us. There was a hum in the air. A light breeze sprang up, grew stromrer, and in one minute became a gale. The wall came down with railroad speed, the roar of its approach every instant growing louder. From the top of a roll in the prarie we could see our house, and it came pretty near being our last glimpse of it. “No words will ever convey an intelli gent idea of a blizzard ; of the frightful roar with which it rolls down upon you ; the howling and hissing of the wind. If you try to speak the wind dashes the syl lables from your lips so quickly tiiat you do not bear your own words. In thirty secouds from the time the first snow flake fell I could not see my horses. The at mosphere appeared to be of snow, and every flake of it was In a hurry to get somewhere before the rest should get ther£ 1 use the word ‘flake,’ but that is wrong. No flakes could be distinguished. The whole atmosphere was one big flake that hemmed us m on all sides. Although Mabel’s head wasn’t over a foot from mine I could not see her features, and could only dimly see her form. I tned to peer downwards beside the sleigh and see the track, but I might as well have tned to to see the earth beneath a snow bank. I could feel a motion to the sleigh, so that 1 knew the horses were still moving, 'i ke cold was intense. I tried to ask my wife if she was suffering, but 1 could not hear my own words. “During the two [or three minutes that intervened between the time I saw the form approaching and the moment it struck us the horses had run at the top of their speed, so we were not much over a mile trom home. It did not seem possible tor the horses to keep the track. No one could live an hour in that storm. The only hope lay in the horses being abb to keep to a track that was being buried deeper and deeper every instant. It isn’t pleasant to sit still and freeze to death. In ten minutes I was chilled through, and I felt that I was freezing. The horses were still moving, and, although I could not see them, I lashed them with the whip. It seemed hours since the storm shut us in, and I was just iiecomlng convinced that the horses had got out of the path and that we were lost on the prarie, when there came a sudden lull of the fierce wind. “The air was still full of whirling snow, but I could see objects about me, and it didn’t take long for me to ascertain that we were in the barn and were safe. 1 had left i he barn doors open in the morning, and the horses had found their way back; 1 think by instinct, but my neighbors think It was sheer accident, and declare that it wouldn't happen again In a thou sand yean. Although we had reached the barn, we were not in the house yet. From the barn to the house is about twenty yards, but, as far as seeing was concerned, the house might as well have been in the moon. The little woman helped me to unharness the horses and put them into their stalls. Then I told her to remain where she was, and made a break tor the house. It is difficult for any one to be lieve that in a blinding storm he cannot go twenty yams m a lit... sufficiently straight to find a house, but try it some time! “Do you see that pump ? I stumbled event. It is twenty feet to the ngbtot the path from the barn to the house. If it hadn’t a been for that pump I would never again have found either bouse or barn. 1 knew that the handle ot that pointed directly toward the house, and that it was not over ten yards away. 1 raised the handle and felt for my bearings. I let go the pump-handle and plunged toward the house. When 1 tell you that I ran ‘smack’ against it you will undentand that seeing was ont of the question. After 1 got into the house I took a ball of twine, tied one end to the door-knob, and suc ceeded In getting back to the bam, and, by following the string, we reached the house again. For three days and nights thereafter neither of ns even opened ths outer door. When the storm ceased we could not see the ham, tor the snow had piled in between the house and barn so deep that it covered the windows on that side of the house. On the east side of the house, however, there was very little snow. 1 he shovel happened to be m the house, and the little woman and 1 succeed ed in tunneling through to the barn, but we bad to carry every shovelful of the snow taken out ot the tuunel through the house and throw it on the east side.” “Were the horses all nght when you got to them ?” “You can safely bet they were glad to see me. They were akout half buned in snow, and had eaten the bedding from their stalls. It took me nearly all the rest of the winter to shovel the snow out ot the barn.” “Do people out on the praries ever get lost in these storms I” “To be caught out on the prairie by a blizzard means death, and nothing can avert it. After a settler has been here one winter it’s a sly old blizzard that catches him. Not so the new comers. They can not imagine there is danger at all times. Three people were lost that day in this vicinity, one of them a woman who had been over across the prarie about a mile to see a sick neighbor.” Liz mla anil Music. Lizards certainly betray a sense oj musical vibrations. Little geckos and ether house-lizards, if they do not ex actly “come out to listen,” as they are reputed to do, will stop instantly in their flignt over walls and boors when a note is struck, and remain motionless for some seconds, as though actually listeu- ing for its repetition, and I have seen taranguras in a garden “mesmerized” by a guitar in the same way. But it is to be observed that in neither instance is the mesmerism complete enongh to prevent their eluding eaptuie, and that if the music be continued tuey soon be come habituated to it and resume their wonted movements. I am inclined to attribute the effect to the reception of the air waves by the general sensibility of the cutaneous surface, the feeling of what is most likely a disagreeable thrill, rather than to any impression on the special sense of hearing. Sitting at an open grand piano one diy, looking at some manuscript, but not touching the keys, a “legatitia,” making his way down the wall against which the instru ment stood, by a series of running crooked jerks, caught my eye, his little sprawling bauds and irridescent body sharply defined against the white back ground. On the further end of the piano lay a paper of “dulces;” this had attracted a swarm of flies, and the flies m their turn attracted the legatitia, Down he came, with abrupt suspicions darts and turns to this side and that, until he stood on ihe level ground of the piano top, paused, flitted half across it, and paused again. Just as he began to run onoe more, having cautiously brought my hands and feet into position, I struck a tremendous double cord with the pedal down. Poor little chap! I thought I had killed him. He was ab solutely knocked off his legs, and turned over on his back, where he lay feebly kicking. Before I could reach him, however, he had recovered, regained his feet flashed up the wail, and disappeared into a ore vice, I expect that that lizard at any rate, had a very low opinion of mosio afterward. Bo lion Swell* Agitated. There is really a very genuine agita tion in the breast of the masouline por tion of society, including our very sen sible men as well as onr gilded yonth, on the subject of knee-breeches and hose, of starched hn«nand sundry other matters of male apparel. It is not only a faet that the abbreviated garment for the nether limbs has actually been adop ted for evening attire by some of our very swell young men, but that many others, not so advanced as to actually adopt the altered style of dress, are talking about it and seriously contem plating so doing. I have heard most sober conversation on the subject by very qniet and sensible gentlemen lately, and even the pater familias at home, whose linen has always been irreproacha bly white and stiff, remarked recently that he wished he might be relieved from the thraldom of starched collars and snhstitnte soft ruffles or a silk hand kerchief ! Now, isn’t it strange that when men have such a particularly sensible and desirable style ot drees that certain women are yearning anxiously to adopt it for themselves, that they cannot be satisfied with it ? Just think to what we seem to be coming 1 Here ate our dress-reform women eagerly trying to introduce something as near akin an may be to the presnt masculine attire, be cause it is “so comfortable and sensi ble,” and here are our dress-reform men urging the abandonment of many of the sensible features of that attire, and the introduction of others as being more in accordance with rules of beauty and of art. Are the two sexes likely to exchange attire within the coming few years? A LUhtbou»e Lantern. A remarkable iighthonse lantern was placed in position at the national exhi bition in Dublin, but owing to its size it had to be removed into the open air. It is intended for Mew Island, au im portant point near Belfast, and at its loll capacity is expected to give a light equal to 2,500,000 candles, visible at a distance of forty miles if placed at the proper elevation. The illaminatmg agent is gas, consumed in specially constructed ring burners (without glass chimneys), which are said to be so ar ranged that by the aid of lenses the power can lie inureased in murky or foggy weather from an ordinary light of the first class vo tho meet penetrat ing beam that has ever been thrown from a lighthouse tower. The light requires no attention, and the changes in its intensity with the character of the weather are made in the simplest manner, without labor or trouble on the part of the lighthouse keepers. The Kmpros! of Austria. Towards the end of the year 1867 the name Godollo flew for the first time along the Hungarian telegraph wires. This Magyar nation—till 1848 consisting In law, as in fact it consists almost to this day, of 3,000,000 of nobles—had acquired the castle of Godollo, with extensive ter ritories belonging to the townships of Go dollo, Kerepea, Dany, and Iszcsseg, as well aa the plains of R<erszeg, Bezsenyo, Babot, Szeot Gyorgy, Nyiregyhazv Bzont- kiraly, and Kia-Bag, and presented the same to the Crown as a perpetual posses sion. On ths 29th of April, 1868’ the law was promulgated in both Houses of the Diet. The name of the estate was at that time almost unknown pot only ab^ad, but even to the younger generation in Pesih, although the railway from Pesth to Losonos, which was just then bought by the Btate, passes near the caitle and mar ket town of Godollo. Older people re called the fact that in the spring of 1849 they bad been the scene of several episodes of the Revolution, and persons familiar with the details of Hungarian history were aware that “the King” (Ue Hungarian 1 iw does not recognize female succession), Maria Tueresa, had once favored the hand some young peasant Grassalkovich, had raised him to the dignity of Count, then ot Prince, and had endowed him with those extensive estates ; that the first Prince Grassalkovich had built the present castle, and repeatedly received the visits of bis sovereign there. The family became extinct in the thir generation; and the estates felt into the possession of Baron Bina, m Vienna, a Wallachian master builder (like all Turace- Wallactnans, he considered himself a Greek, having even sacrificed enormous sums for the building of the University in Athens), and were then acquired by one of the many share companies which the Belgian swindler, Langrand-Damonceau, had promoted, i’he purchase of Godollo by the Hungarian Btate prevented the name of the castle being mentioned on ihe eventual bankruptey of Langrand Damon- ceau. The name has figured much more frequently, however, in latter years in po litical reports. Pesth lies in a broad, partially cultivated plain, almost devoid of trees, called the Bukos, in which, up to the conquest of the country by the Turks, the Reichstag had held its sittings, all the nobles appear ing on horseback, and, like the Kings, camping under tents. This plain— in sum - mcr filled with dust and scorched wuh the heat of the sun, after every rain a sea of mud—is not suitable for a royal residence for any length of time, but on the edge of the district, thirty or forty kilometre i from Pesth, there extends thickly-woode l downs, the former shores of the Danube, among which lies the market town ot Go dollo. with a population ot about 3,0)0. The beautiful and extensive woo la, witn their anundant game, ana the circumstance that the neighborhood is chiefly Magyar, renders Godollo a fitting gift to the Crown. One room repeatedly served as the bed chamber of the Empress Maria Theresa whose bed is still preserved in the castle. Thence stairs conduct to the ground floor, which likewise contains rooms for the Queen's use. To the left ot the drawing room are the apartments of the King, all very simple; indeed, the bedroom and the study are Spartan in their simplicity. Every merchant in the city of London af fects more splendor and comfort in his dwelling-house than are to be found in thie royal castle. The rest of the building is occupied by the apartments of the Crown Prince, and by several spare rooms. Besides the above-mentioned bed of Maria Theresa, the great stables were shown us as curiosi ties, with their mangers of red marble, such as is often used for stairs in Pesth, and the kitchen, with the spit, ou wnicn a whole ox can be roasted. At every popu lar festival in Hungary an ox is roasted, when the mob fight tor then&lfuooked bits ot meat. They showed us the fur coat of the por • ter, which, though ostensibly 150 years oldi, is not yet eaten by the moths; and, finally, an earthen pot, out of which the future Prince Grasaoikonch was accus tomed to eat his dinner In his youth, after having begged it In a Capuchin convent. Near the castle beds of rosea and other flowers were laid ouL ten a slope a Chi nese pavilion had beeu constructed, in which were hung portraits of all the Hun garian Kings, the work of artists of the lowest rank. Beyond this I was obliged to wade in sand up to my knees. Beveral magnificent old trees and a view of the richly wooded bills, however, recompensed me for the trouble. Marketuardsnlnx. Every season furnishes its crop of un successful merchants, or mechanics, who ask our agricultural editors if market-gar dening does not pay large profits, and if there is not a gooa chance in this business for an industrious man to better his con dition. Judged by the high prices the average citizen pays for his vegetables in the large cities, it seems to him there must be money in raising vegetables. If he could remove to the country, say with.n an hour’s ride, be could attend to his city business without loss of time, and by hir ng a good gardener, he could have cheap :r vegetables and fruits, and add something to his income by sending the surplus to market. Nothing looks more feasible on oaper; nothing is more delusive in prac tice. Every business, to be successful, — requires a responsible head, thoroughly” acquainted with all its details, and giving it his personal attention. There are many points in market-gardening that can only be learned by experience, and if a stran ger to the business undertakes it, he will pay dearly for his education. Borne three hundred dollars to the acre are needed as capital (o carry on the business to advant age, even when a man is practically ac quainted with it, and knows how and where to invest every dollar. The ques tions to be solved, are location in reference to market; soil, what kind and h)w mucu; what crops to grow; what kinds of ma nure to apply to a given crop, and the quantity; what tools are wanted; what seeds to plant; what teamsare needed and what labor to cany on Use business suc cessfully, and have no waste. The culti vation of a few square rods for a family supply of small fruits and vegetaWe*. might prove profitable and healthful, while market-gardening on the same loads would prove disastrous. Market-gardening *4-a remunerative buamess When a man >mder- stands it, but it is far from being an easy road to wealth for those who have all details to learn. I E’l