The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, April 14, 1883, Image 1
I
C V
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION.
WINNSBORO. S. C.. APRIL 14, 1883.
ESTABLISHED 1848
THE AUTUMN S' ENE.
The Indian summer's veil of bluo
Lies on tbe mountains far away;
And from the oast, forever new,
Dawn ushers in the dreamy day.
The air Is still, the rivulet gleams
in silver flashes tnrouglrthe vale—
Tbe silent mist above the stream s
Fair path shines like a glin’nlng sail.
I seethe squirrel skip and dart *
Among the rainbow-tinted leaves.
The glossy chestnu r s lire his heart—
But, aa for him, he never grieves.
Where red and russet orchards stand,
Bowing their burdens to the plain,
The lover takes hts loved one’s hand
And saunters through the orchard lane.
The clouds are soft that fleck the sky,
The dry leaves rustle past their feet;
But their unclouded reverie,
And bliss‘ul dreams and visions sweet.
Outdo the splendor of the day,
Surpass the glory of the dawn:
The world itself must pass away
fire such delights are dead and gone I
I mark their measured step—and slow—
The cottage gate, the parting kiss.
And think no summers vainly go
That end in such triumphant bliss 1
MAY'S MISSION.
Pretty May Win stone sat in her own
little room in her mother’s cottage, with
pen, paper and ink spread before her,
and though her eyes were intently gaz
ing through the open window, she saw
neither the brignt flowers nor the fleecy
clouds sailing in the bine sky on the
distant horrizon, nor heard the low
buzz of the bee flitting from rose to
rose, nor the loud song ot the robin to
his mate.
The sun glinted her hair with flecks
of gold, the snmmer breeze caressed
her, but for once the girl was deaf and
blind to all save one great purpose, one
absorbing thought.
A week before she had met Vernon
Rushton.
Picnics were a favorite snmmer amnse-
ment in the quiet little country town
where was May Winstone’s home, and
it was at ^ne of these fate had thrown
her and Vernon Rushton together.^
He was a stranger, spending li few
weeks at the small hotel in the village,
which occasionally attracted summer
guests.
At first something in his light bine
eyes bad repelled rather than attracted
her ; but as they wandered together
through one of the ieafty paths, and
he had told her how as soon as he had
seen her he had wished and asked to be
presented to her, and confided to her
now tew people iiktlic world possessed
tor him this subtle chord of sympathy,
i he began to believe she bad done him
gross injustice, and was quite convinced
she never betoro had met so charming
a man.
Of course this sweeping assertion
did not include Dick Travers, for she
and Dick were engaged to be married.
Indeed, Dick talked of the autumn
as the proper time for the wedding to
take place, though as yet she had not
given her consent to such speed.
She knew now that it was impossible,
for in this one short week she and Mr.
Rushton had held many long, confiden
tial talks.
He had told her that he wrote, and
was a poet—that every one in life should
have a mission, and that he was quite
sure she could make her name tamons
by her pen—that he saw the inspiration
of poetry in her eyes.
If his words were true, she had won
derful difficulty in getting the said in
spiration any further than her eyes, for
it was at this task she was occupied on
this lovely July day.
“May 1” called her mother’s voice.
“Wtii you come down, dear, and help
me shell the peas ?
“It is washing-day, you know, and
Mary has not time.’’
Shell the peas 1
Ob, what a fall from the ole ads.
And Mav, usually so bright and ready,
slowly put away her writing materials,
and, with a di cided pout on ti e sweet,
red lips, slowly descended the stairs.
Her task finished, a sudden shadow
full athwart the window, though which
was thrust a handsome dosercropped
head, and two laughing, brown eyes
survey ed the interior, while a cheery
voice broke the silence—
“1 have come to take you for a drive,
May.
“It is really too levoly a day for in
doors.
“Gome, get yonr hat, ear, and let
usbeoflt” y *
“Not to-day, Dick I" she answered
indifferently,
“It was very kind of you to come,
but I’ve something - I particularly wish
to do this afternoon.”
“Not drive, May 1 Why, what is to
be done ?
“I will wait for you a little while if
it is important.”
“Don’t wait.
“I can’t go 1"
“I’ve hardly semi anything of you
for a week. May. ®
“East night that Rushton fellow de
liberately outstayed me.
“He'd have had harder work, but
that he made me mad and jealous. How
can you tolerate him, May ?
“There isn’t an inch of real manhood
about him, yet you smiled on^him, end
encouraged him to stay until I could
stand it no longer, and left him a free
field”
“We saw your temper. Dick.
“You need not recur to it.
“Mr. Rushton said it was greatly to
be regretted you were so rash and not-
headed."
“Mr. Roshton J
“Confoundhim 1
“What right has he to express an
opinion of me to you T
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have
listened toitf’
For all reply, the girl exasparsbngly
shrugged her shoulders, and roeo to
put away the peas. ■ f
When she timed back, the fac<> at
the window gone.
Fearful ot giving her another illus
tration of his much-to-be-regretted
disposition, he had sought refuge in
flight; and shoi was once more free to
the room which, henceforth Vernon
Rushton had told her would appear in
his eyes, though they never had beheld
it, as the enshrined bower of a poetess.
An hour passed, and only four lines
was imprinted on the sheet but of these
metre and rhythm were qmte perfect,
and her heart beat high with exultation.
Then again her mother’s veice re
called her to this mundane sphere—
this time, however, to announce a visi
tor—Mr. Rushton was below.
Vtry, very pretty May looked, as,
with flushed cheeks and bright eyes,
she ran down to meet him.
His light bine orbs dilated at the pic
ture.
“I have come to ask you to take a
stroll with me,” he said, in his weak,
lew voice.
“Snob days as this inspire one, and
I am sore in every bosh and tree yon
will find lurking some new and beauti
ful thought.”
Ah, if Dick had but asked her to go
out to seek inspiration, she might have
responded with as much alacrity as
now 1
So it happened that, returning from
his lonely drive, a little repentant for
his hastiness, and ready to blame his
own jealous and impetnoos temper for
unjust suspicion,* he saw directly in
front of him two figures, slowly stroll
ing along.
He was not long in recognizing them
both, and a great, hot wave of indig
nant anger surged up to his face.
He was wonderfully tempted to leap
out in front of them, and by a yigorous
application of his whip, teach this
miserable pretender a lesson he would
not soon forget
Sut he resisted the temptation and
drove on, deigning them, as he passed
neither word nor glance ; bat May,
catching a look of his face, felt a sud
den fear.
She had never seen Diek, dear old
Dick, wear that look before, and Mr.
Rushton, for the rest of their walk,
found her very silent, and it is to be
feared that neither from tree, nor shrub,
did May gather inspiration.
And though Mrs. Winstone’s delicious
there were far more inviting that the
repast spread at the hotel, he was not
bidden to enter in and feast.
Yet May ii.ad condemned herself
thereby to a long, lonely evening.
If Diek bad come in, all might have
been explained ; but Dick, white and
miserable, was bending over his desk,
writing a letter ; which though savoring
nothing of poetry, cost him as infinite
labor as all her inspirations.
Many % sheet he began and never
finished, before, at last, afewourtlines,
which almost hid the pain their birth
had given him, were left to stay and
reach their destination..
Next morning May found them be •
side her breakfast plate.
These were all the words they con
tained—
“I have been blind, May; but I see
now. I know now why you could not
drive with me yesterday, ana why you
let me go away the night before. You’ll
forgive me that I didn’t recognize the
truth you have tried to tell me in every
thing but speech, and so the sooner
have given you back your freedom. If
you’ll keep the few things I have sent
you, I should be very glad, for they
are hateful enough in my sight, and the
weather is somewhat too warm to build
a lire for a funeral pyre. “Dick. ”
This was all.
But for the last phrase, bom of the
great bitterness of a young heart, May
might have relented, and sent back a
few lines which would have bronght
her lover to her feet; but these harden
ed her.
Within an hour she had gathered to
gether every token of his love ; then
slipping from her finger the pearl nng
which had betoked their engagement,
she put them with the rest, and % de
spatched them to him without a word,
“Mr, Rushton says every woman has
a mission,” she told herself, lest she
should fancy hey heart ached.
“Nothing now needinterfere with my
work.
“I shall write a poem.
“1 can make my owh- experience its
foundation, and so send it into the world
to teach other women man's perfidy.’
When Mr. Riisnton called that even
ing, she said—
“I have broken my engagement, Mr.
Rushton I”
It was too dark for May to see tho
sudden flash of triumph in his light,
steely eyes.
It was strange, she thought, as the
dayi wore on, but Yernon Koshlon's
attraction for her had fled.
Somehow he wearied her.
She wished he would not oome quite
so often.
She did not oare to offend him, for
he* was to give her the name of the edi
tor to whom her precious poem, now
rapidly approaching completion, was to
be entrusted.
At last she had put to it the Anal
correction, tbe last stop, signing her
initials with infinite precision and oare.
She had tasted some of the first frnits
of future triumphs, when she had read
it to him in its completed form, and he
had listened with upturned eyes and
bateu breath.
“Your mission soon will be fulfilled,”
he kaid to her; “but, oh, what. might
we not accompli ih together—Wo -such
poetic minds I
“I would not separate you from your
mother, dear, if you would become my
wife; but here, in this pretty cottage
we could be happy together.
“May I hope, my lo*e V Will # you
oast yonr tot with mine ?”
'• But May had fled shuddering from
his extended arms, and a few hours la
ter there followed him to his hotel the
hastiiy-sorawled note, wh’< *i he read,
cursing his fate, since the pretty nest
'oe bad so carefully striven for, he learn
ed, all luxuriously feathered as it was,
never might be his.
Penniless and love-lorn, he most
again return to daily toil for daily bread,
too much time having been squandered
in a vain pursuit for food and shelter,
with tae necessary accompaniment of a
wife.
There was now nothing left for May
but to find consolation in her mission.
With .rembling hands, but hopeful
heart, she despatched her poem to its
destination.
Days merged into weeks, and she
heard nothing from it, until at last she
sent a tiny note asking for some news
of it
The reply was brief.
Her sacred work had long since been
consigned to the waste-paper basket,
condemned as rubbish, and nnreturned
to her for want of return postage.
The blow was terrible.
She had not even kept a copy, and
never could she gather up courage to
make a second effort.
With the heartless letter in her hand,
she flew to the woods, where secure
from interruption, she might fling her
self fade downwards upon the sward
and sob out some of her heart’s grief.
Bo wrapped was she in her own mis
ery, that she heard no step approach
ing, until some one called her name.
It was Dick, her lover, who stood be
side her.
Ah', her lover now no longer I
“May 1” he said.
“Whatis it, child?
“Will you not tell me ?
“Poor little girl 1 What is troubling
you ?”
The tendeOone was more than she
could bear. “
How it happened she did not know,
but in a moment she found herself sob
bing, not tears of wretchedness, bat
tears of joy ; for Dick’s arms were about
her aud her head was on Dick’s heart.
She tried then to make him under
stand some of her humiliating confes
sion ; bat he would not listen to it—
only, a few days later he came to her,
with a roguish smile on his face, and
held up before her a little slip of paper.
It was an advertisement, in doggerel
verse, for some patent toot-powder.
This is one of Mr. Roshton’s poems,’
he told her.
“Evidently not a very lucrative occu
pation, since he has left the hotel a
month in arrears for his board.”
But seeing tbe quick tears of mortifi
cation start to May’s eyes, he bent and
kissed them away.
But in long after years the girl learn
ed that only her false mission in life
bad failed her, and her true mission—
the mission of a loving wife and tender
mother—had met its richest and its
fullest completion.
Store Olei ka in Mexico.
How He Cooked Them.
Think of paving $5 a dozen for plain
linen collars which in New Orleans
would be considered high at $1, or of
giving $6 for a pair of shoes which a
home dealer would blush to charge
$2 50 for, says a writer. The Americans
in the City of Mexico look back to their
own land as the paradise for people
with thin purses, and sigh tor the day
when a commercial treaty between the
United States and Mexico shall not only
remove the duties on sugar and tooacco,
but bring down the oomtorts of life to
a reasonable rate.
Speaking of dry goods brings ns back
naturally to the stores, and these we
cannot mention without being painfully
reminded of a subject to which it is
difficult to refer without losing that
equanimity essential to a Christian
Irame of mind, and this is—the clerks.
When we reflect upon the amount of
time and p atlence‘expended during oar
shopping expeditions and all charged
to the account of these aggravating
specimens of humanity, to take on
almost savage pleasure in saying that,
according to our belief, no other city
can compete with Mexico in regard to
that indolent, indifferent, highly pro
voking class, who are employed nomi
nally to wait upon customers tqt who
turn the tables by making customers
wait upon them. The purchase of a dress
in these stores implies the loss of nearly
a whole dpy, and an amount of patience,
which, if properly exerted, would lead
to canonization.
On entering a dry goods emporium
you will find a large number of clerks,
entirely out of proportion to the size of
the establishment, most of whom are
busily employed in doing nothing.
After waiting for .some time one will
approach you with the most nonchalant
air, and ask yon what you want in a
tone of voice, however, which implies
that he makes the inquiry merely out
of consideration for yon, and not be
cause he has any interest in the answer.
When your want is made known—and
you must he assured in your own mind
as to the width, quality and color of the
goods required—no will depart, appar
ently in qiest of your material; how sad
is your mistake, however, if you expect
a speedy return, for on the way he will
stop to slay with somebody's baby, or
to hold a long conversation with one ot
his fellow-clerks, or to take half-an-
honr’s puff at his beloved cigar, and
sometimes during an unusually lengthy
period of suspense we have been tempt
ed to believe that he indulged in a
siesta. At last, when body and spirit
are both nearly exhausted, you will
perhaps succeed in hading the stuff for
your dress; but this, you soon discover,
is only the beginning of your troubles;
you ask for buttons, aud are told to
seek them in a fancy store on the next
block; for needles, pins, hook and eyes
—they are to be found in a hardware
estabhshmprt around the corner; f<Sr
thread—it is kept at another shop
several squares off; for black sewing
Silk—that can be bought only where
machines are sold; for ribbon—and are
answered with a look of surprise at
your ignorance that snob a thing is
never to be met with in a dry goods
store. By the time you have bunted
np-these articles in their various appro
priate places, and have been subjected
to the same delays and annoyances on
every side, you will be ready to agree
with us iu saying that Mexican stores
and clerks are in«titutoiu peculiarly
obnoxious to Americans.
Several years ago a genuine specimen
of the genius Yankee emigrated from
the central part of Maine where he had
spent the whole of his hfe, to a well-
known town on the Eastern Shore. He
had never seen an oyster except in its
canned condition, and was naturally
anxious to know what kind of an ani
mal or vegetable it was. One bright
fall morning soon after he had arrived
at his new home he was-leaning con
templatively over tbe front gate when a
cart full of the bivalves drew near.
“Oysters! Oysters! Any good oysters
this morning, sir?” T
“How maoh are they? ’ askov. the New
Englander stepping out to examine
them.
“Forty cents a bushels.
. “Waal I guess I’ll take a peek, Bui
look a here stranger, how do you cook
them things!”
“Different ways, sir. Some people
fries ’em; some roasts em; but they
mostly stews ’em—cooks ’em in water
awhile, prts a lit tie milk in, and season
’em with pepper and salt. They’re
first-class this way.”
“All right, 1 guess we’ll try ’em
stewed. ’’
The oysters were duly delivered and
paid for.
This was early in the morning. Late
in the afternoon, about eight hours
after the above, the spindle legs of the
Yankee were seen rapidly measuring
their longest strides down the street.
Fire was in his eyes and madness in his
mien. He soon reached the crowd as
sembled on the street corner, and at
once singled out the man from whom
he had purchased the oysters. The
vials of his wrath were immediately
uncorked. Shaking his fist m the man’s
face he roared forth:
“You’re a gol darned humbug, you’re
a obeat, a vile swindler, an—”
“Wnat d’ye mean?” growled the oys
ter-man.
“The oysters yon sold me. You said
they were good, xou told me bow to
cook them. You told me to stew ’em,
didn’t you?”
"Yes.”
“Waal, we put the blamed things on
the stove this morning, and they ain’t
soft yet; though they’ve been boiling
hot for eight hours—”
“You lank-sided, bald-faced idiot,
why didn’t yon take the sheds off? The
oyster’s inside.
“The thunder it is! Then why didn’t
you tell me?”
But notliing more need be added. It
is only necessary to say that the Yankee
now always shucks Ins oysters before
he cooks teem.
A Stupeati 1U» Wo--n Of Nature.
Ages ago an arm of the Gnlf of Mexi
co extended northward probably to
where Cairo now stands. This water
varied in width from ten to sixteen
miles. Stretolling for 1.000 mues north
ward, and from the Alleghenies to the
Rocky Mountains, was, and still is, the
land that drained its surplus waters
into this arm of the sea. Nature sought
to fill up this deep triangular trough,
the aplex of which touched the present
waters of the Ohio. The work was an
extensive one. The granite flanks of
the Rocky Mountains, the shales of the
Alleghanies, tbe tertiary formation of
the plains, were all plowed by rivers,
and the material was pulverized by the'
action of strong waters, ground in the
batteries of nature, until they were an
impalpable dost, capable of being held
in suspension by flowing water. In the
workshop of nature, on the plains and
in the mountains, this process ceaseless
ly continued. The melting snow and
heavy rains, causing the rivers to rise,
carried tho pnlp to Cairo. There the
salt water of the Gulf was met; and the
flow of the river checked, unable longer
to hold the pnlp in suspension, it was
precipitated, forming a delta. Slowly
this delta was pnshed southward.
Mountains were cut to the level of the
plains; the flanks of mighty ranges
were deeply farrowed to scpply the
demand the river made to fill the trough
below Cairo, and render it fit for‘the
habitation of men. Th« north was de
vastated to answer the call. For ages
the waters of the north and west poured
into the trough. For ages the process
of shoaling the salt waters slowly con
tinued. After the land appeared above
the surface of the river the annual over
flow added to its height.
Hade an E*ce»*I«m.
"Human languages," says Jalien
Viczon, “appear u> have grown like trees
in a wood, winch in the first stages are as
numerous as possible but are soon reduced
to a few individuals,of which a very email
number attain their full teim of lile. Nu
merous as wer* at first the local manifesta
tions of human beings, the primordial lan
guages were as Innumerable.
A Boston capitalist, who has just
returned from a trip to the lumber re
gions of Wisoonsin, struck a country
hotel one night during a blizzard. The
landlord was doing his best to heat up
and make everything comfortable, bat
after his heels had been frost-bitten
within six feet of the bar-room store,
the Bostonian hinted that he would go
to bed.
“Stranger in these parts, aren’t you?”
whispered the host
“Yes.”
“From Besting, ain’t you?”
. “Yes.”
“Weil, I’ll make an exception in your
oare and give you your choice between
a room where the boys will likely ait up
till 3 o’clock and play old sledge, or one
next to where me and the old woman
will begin jawing and fighting about 10
and keep it up till squaw daylight, You
look like a man of culture, and I’ll
make it as comfortable as I can for
yonl” ,
The Bostonian oomproffifeed by tak
ing a north room with seven panes of
glass broken out of the window.
Uarlyle's Home at uraigjnpattock.
Fifty years have oome and gone since
this lonely moorland farm-honse was
tenanted by Thomas Carlyle and his
newly-wedded wife, Jane Welsh. Very
little changed is anything outward;
quiet Craigenputtook was then quiet, it
is stiU. You hear the wind moaning
among the trees, the leaves falling to
the ground, a distant murmur of water,
the bleat cf some sheep on the uplands.
These are the sounds by night and by
day; all else is silent. Very simply
were the. “curious impertinent” once
baffled, but now the door stands open,
and, though few indeed venture near, a
visitors' book lies on the lobby table,
where those who make a pilgrimage to
the spot can register their names.
Craigenputtock, meaning the wooded
hill of the puttock, a kind of hawk, is a
small estate on the borders of Dumfries
shire and Galloway, some 1800 acres in
extent, mostly moorland, and lying 700
feet above sea-level. Its precise situa
tion is on the valley, running from the
parish of Dnn score in Glencaim to the
river Urr—flowing from the adjacent
loch of the same name. Fully 17 miles
from Dumfries, the nearest railway
station (save Anldgirth, which* may be
somewhat less) it will be seen to be
sufficiently inaccessible. The nearest
village, Corsock, is between three and
four miles away. The house itself Is
not beautiful, not even what may be
called picturesque. Where it stands,
nevertheless, it looks far from amies,
ar.d seems not ont of keeping with its
barren surroundings. Still guarded by
fine old trees, and flanked by the orange
aud purple moors and Galloway hills,
there is about it a quiet dignity which
does not jar with its associations.
The front oi the house, facing the
north, commands no view whatever,
and look, into a grassy bank, rising
immediately towards a now spare plan
tation . To the back, where there might
have been preserved a wide panorama
of moorland and hills, all ontlook is
forbidden by the farm buildings, girdled
again by trees. Indeed, so surrounded
is the house, and so sheltered is the
little hollow, that no sign of a habita
tion is visible from any distance, save
from the moor above, where one may
indeed see the roof and a window or
more. On entering we find ourselves
in a somewhat spacious lobby, hardly
deserving the name of hall. To the
right is the former drawing-room, and
entering from it is the old study, a very
tiny room which looks into the yard.
On the left of the lobby is an apartment
used by tbe Carlyles as the dining-room,
and behind it is a bed-room. The
kitchen, a large, cheerful place, now
the pleasantest room in the house, is
built out at the back. Ascending a narrow
stair from tbe hall, we find ourselves on
a small landing, whence four doors open
into four several bed-rooms, which com
plete the modest accommodations of
Craigen
Tbe Cashier Ahead.
A new bank which had been estab
lished in a town in Indiana had engaged
the services of a watchman who came
well recommended, bat who did not
seem over-experienced. The President
therefore sent for him to post him np a
bit, and began:
“James, this is your first job of this
kind, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your first duty must be to exercise
vigilance.”
“Yes. sir.”
“Be careful how strangeis approach
you."
“I will, sir.”
“No stranger mndt be permitted to
enter the bank at night under any pre
text whatever.”
“No, air.”
“And our cashier—he if a good man,
honest, reliable and thoroughly trust
worthy, but it will be your duty to keep
mi eye on him.”
“But fi&will be hard to watch two
men and the bank at the same time,
air.”
“Two men—how?”
“Why, sir, it was only yesterday that
the cashier called me in for a talk, and
he said you were the squares! man in
Indiana: but that it would be just as
well to keep both eyes on you, and let
the directors know if you hung around
after hours 1”
Cow Tboologj.
“Now, deacon, I’ve just one word to
say. I can't bear onr preaching! 1 get
no good There’s ac much in it I don’t
want that 1 grow lean on it. I lose my
time and pains.”
“Brother Bunnell, oome here. There’s
my cow ’Thankful'—she can teach you
theology.”
“A cow teach theology! What do you
mean?”
“Now see, I have just thrown her a
forkful of hay. Just watch her. There
now! She has found a stick—you know
sticks will get into the hay—and see
how she tosses it to one side and goes
on to eat what is good. There again!
She has found a burdock, and she throws
it to one side and goes on eating. Be
fore morning she will have cleared the
manger of all aave a few sticks and
weeds, and the will give milk. There’s
milk in that hay and t-he knows how to
get it out, albeit there may be now
and then a stick or weed which she
leaves,”
PeU of Prisoner*.
It is somewhat surprising to what an
extent men confined in a prison will
succeed in domesticating different kinds
of animals. This practice has never
been more snccsssfnlly developed than
at the State Prison at Concord, where
there are men who, in a number of in
stances, derive great comfort from the
companionship of different species of
animals and who while away many a
lonely honr by training them, while in
their oells, to perform different tricks.
At the present time one of the most
noted convicts in the institution has a
pet mouse which he has caught and
trained to whirl a small wheel ararnged
on the same principle aa a jtjoirr^eage
is. Another has two wharf rats which
he ban tolled into his cell, fed and so
epmpletely domesticated that they will
go through a tight-rope performance
in his cell when they are bidden to do
so. Others have trained rats and mice,
which they carry to and from the work-
sbaps, and become greatly attached to
them. The trained pet canary of Jesse
Pomeroy, the boy fiend, has just died.
He was a ve.y fine singer, and Jesse
grieves very mnoh on account of the
bird’s death, for, in solitary confine
ment, he has been much cheered by the
singing, t He now expects his mother
will bring or send him another soon.
The steward in the hospital depart
ment has several pet canaries, and one
of them has been trained to a remark
able degree. A colored convict, formely
a well-known waiter in one of tbe lead
ing Boston hotels, who occupies a
strong cell, has succeeded in propa
gating pigeons iu a peculiar manner
The window of his cell opens into the
prison yard, and on this window he
placed bread crams until he trapped a
pair of pigeons. He aiterwarus caught
three more in the same way, clipped
their wings, and they have become so
thoroughly domesticated that they have
built a nest underneath his bed, and
at present have three young doves which
they have reared. One of the old pig
eons is coal black, and this one the
darkey has named after his wife, and
all tbe rest have names. He regularly
feeds bis fioek from his owu allowance.
The other convicts felt very mnoh disa-
pointed because tbe large number of
doves formerly kept at the prison were
killed and the thatched dovecote re
moved. At one time a number of do
mesticated skunks were kept in the
prison yard, and they were cared for by
the convicts. There are now numerous
cats in different parts of the piison
and if a person wishes to get the ill,
will of a convict he only needs to mo
lest “his cat. These animals always
dissappear from view when visitors
come to the prison, for they always
know a stranger.
Exercise.
Take plenty of exercise, and you can
nse your brain as mnoh as yon please.
Lawyers and clergymen, who use their
brains much, are the longest-lived men
in the country, showing plainly that
regular brain work is good for tbe gen
eral health as well as for tbe efficiency
of the nervoos system in particular.
The muscular system must be treated
in a similar manner ii: you do not wish
it to beoome subject to fatty degenera
tion. An unused muscle sbriniu and
becomes soft and flabby, presenting an
appearance of marked contrast to the
brawny arm of the blacksmith. In
stances of the feebleness of tissues thus
preserved frequently present themselves
to tne notise of the surgeon. A muscle
is called npon to perform a vigorous
contraction, but it snaps in the effort.
The heart itself is sometimes torn asun
der in attempting to send an extra sap
py of blood to some needy limb. No
man can afford to lower his general
vitality for the sake of mere idle grati-
fioation. He never knows when he may
require all tbe energy which can hie
stored np in his tisanes. A railway ac
cident, a runaway horse, a ran to oatoh
a train, a fall on the ice, or even a fit of
coughing, may bring a life of misery or
an early dcatii to ozo bho would have
passed unscathed through them all had
he allowed his nerves ari muscles to
wear away in vigorous activity,
Bauh L.1CKS.
Speaking of locks, says a New York
letter, one u led to notice the improve
ment in these methods of protection,
one of which is the “time lock.” This
is so constructed that an automatic
action is obtained. The interior of the
look contains a spring aud wheel like
a watch movement, and it is wound np
in the same manner and set so as to
open at a regular time. There are sev
eral patents of this kind of look, which
is so popular that two thousand are in
use. They cost $400 apiece, but are
cheap even a'; that, when one considers
the vast amount of money thus pro
tected. Formerly cashiers have been
seized, bound and compelled by burglars
to unlock the safe under fear of death
but these time looks cannot be opened
untiil the fixed moment arrives. Each
manufacturer has a number of expert
workmen traveling for the purpose of
examining and cleaning locks, which
should be done annually. The fee tor
this service is $10. One ot those ex
aminers informs me that he has been
thus employed three years and he re
cently visited seme of the most impor
tant banks of this city. He is a watch
maker by trade, aud considers these
locks merely large watches. He also
informs me that there are a doz?n
other men in the same itinerancy, each
of whom averages 150 examinations a
year. The range of travel to which
they are subjected includes the entire
area of the Union, with most of its ter
ritories, and hence this forms a peculiar
feature in the traveling community.
Opinm and Mwrpiua.
“Is opium used in Fhiladelphia?'’ was
asked of a druggist recently.
‘•Yes,” was the reply, “and ft is not
confined to the Chinamen, either. Dj >ou
know what epium is? Well, it is a juice
obtained from the unripe capsules of the
poppy, extensively cultivated in Asiatic
Turkey, Erypt and India. China has of
late years (despite the heavy penalty for
its use) cultivatedihs-plant to a great ex
tent, but its quality is said to lie greatly
infenor to tbe Indian and is chiefly used
for the purpose of adulteration. This
Juice is evaporated and finally makes its
appearance here in the shape of flat cakes,
about five inches square, covered with
leaves. The manufacturer fully under
stands his business, as stones, bullets,
buckshot, pieces of scrap iron frequently
ate snugly imbedded m the centre of the
opium cake and when you gonaider^hat it
is purchased by weight, that it is worth $5
and' often through monopolies $12, per
pound,the scrap Iron assumes considerable
importance.
“It is from opium that laudanum and
its principel alkaloid, morphia, fs prepar
ed. Its uses are indicated by its name—
to act as an opiate and the general relief
from pain from any causes whatsoever.
I: is the favorite poison for suicides, from
the fact, perhaps, that it is the easiest ob •
tainable. Where almost every respectable
druggist would hesitate to sell prussic acid
arsenic, strychnia, or morphia to an adult
nine out of ten will dispense laudanum
with a free and easy way, even to children
as though it were as harmless as water.
Many begin its use, likely, because m
small do&s it produces excitement and ex
hilaration and a general feeling of *f own
the whole world.’ The desire to experience
these results,finally leads to a consumption
frightful to consider, although its chief at
traction has vanished, I doubt that when
liquor ceases to be strong enough the toper
reset Is to laudanum, it is only when that
dread sleeplessness seizes on him, when
visionary reptiles fantastically Wind and
dance about him, that he seeks to banish
them and find ‘nature’s restorer’ in opium.
Paregoric and the many soothing and cough
svnips nave for their hi sea morphia and
opium. When the baby is fretful* has the
colic, in teething, keeps the family awake
it Is dosed with paregoric or some other
preparation. Thus the desire is instilled
very young. 1 know of a boy and a> girl,
aged respectively twelve and six years,
wbo began in this way until Anally the
boy received a tablespoon and the girl a
teaspoonful ot laudanum three times daily
—why? I don’t know, but I do know,
whenever the bey visited the store instead
of asking for licence, a picture card or
other trifles used by energetic druggists
to pander to the unsophisticated youthful
mind, this boy invariably asked for a‘dose
of laudanum' (ind his dosea were no small
ones) as a bribe lor the retention of his
mother’s custom.
“On one occasion during my temporary
absence fiom the prescription counter be
seized the opportunity to swallow two
ounces, or four tablespoonfuls at a single
draught. He refused and laughed at all
emetics. 1 anxiously awaited the result;
but no alnncicg effects followed. Tne
usual dose for an adult is about 40 drops;
for a boy of twelve, 15—26 drops, con
taining one grain of opium,and to ir grains •
frequently proving fatal. A tablespoon
coma ns about 400 drops, so thD boy ac
tually drank 1,000 drops, or torty times
the regular dose for an adulLand sufficient
to kill twenty five boya unaccustomed to
its use. His sister, 0 yean eld, received
000 drops daily, and her, brother 1.200
daily, probably as negative foed, for no
boy can eat and sleep at the same time.
Still its effects are not always so frightful
as is generally imagined. 1 know of an
old woman aged 70 years who takes about
three ounces—six tabltspomfuls—daily,
(3 400 drops). Sue has been indulging
for the past 45 yean and still punuea her
vocation, which is scrubbing from morn
ing till night, with no apparent diminution
of a .rength.
“The sulphate of morphia is the more
genteel way of using is, principally on ac
count of being lew nauseous and mote
easily administered, the hypodermic syr
inge being the favorite way, aa on account
of direct contact with the circulation it
acts more quickly. Society girls, craving
foa rest, use morphia, aud when once mor
phia or opium oomes home to roost it
generally remains and it takes a firm,
strong will to banish it. In experimenting
1 began with one eighth oi a grain, tbe
regular dose, and in six weeks took one
grain (enough to kill one unaccustomed)
with impunity. 1 am acquainted with a
man who consumes fifteen grains of mor
phia daily (or enough to kiU fifteen men,
equally distributed and taken at a single
dose.) One-eighth grain morphia equals
three-quarter grain of opium; one grain
equals six grains; six grains ot opium re-
present ISO drops of laudanum, or 2,250
drops daily, or nearly sixty times the
regular adult dose. This simply demou-
fttratea to what rtnsrn^ its a»» <’***» •niti.
vated. All question of exhilaration now
ceases; the man under its use becomes a
mere automaton; his brain is in a com
pletely fuddled state, incapacitating him
from any business—and, strange as it may
seem, physicians and women are opium’s
principal votaries. Statistics do not show
many deaths from excess of opii.m. Un
like liquor, it destroys no organic matter
and no lesions are found after death. It
operates principally upon the brain and
nervous system, which accounts lor tbe
feeling of excitement it produces in mo
derate doses. There is probably not a
druggist in tbe eity but that has his regu
lar opium and morphia customers—average
ing at least five each—and as there are
about eight hundred druggists the number
of consumers can safely be quoted at four
tbouMno. The use, cu an overage one
and a half ounces per day, at a cost of
about twenty cents per one. and a halt
ounce, representing an aggregate of $830
a day, or > $290,000 per year—«nd uus
amount u mostly expended by those lu
humble circumstances.”
Xas additkn ofV)Rtle mace to a veal
soup will give an agreeable flivor to it.
Do not put in enough to ">^0* it a dis
tinct flavor, btit put it ill with the herbs
and pepper and salt.
Thbbb is nothing which will give such
lightness to ginger bread as the we of
sour cream, one cup of sour cream, with
a teaspoon!U1 of soda to sweeten it, will.
With a oup of molasses, a tablespoonfui
cf ginger, and Soar enough fur § stiff
batter, make an excellent breakfast
cake. This is best when warm, but is
good when cold also.
1
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