University of South Carolina Libraries
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINN8BORO. S. C.. APRIL 19, 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 SOMET1MF, BOMEWHEHK. Unanswered yet? tne prayer year llpe.Uave plea ded In agony of heart tl ese many yea-i? Does faith begin to fall, la nope departing, And thick you all in vain thoae falling tears' Say not the Father hath not heard your prayer, You shall have your desire, sometime, souiewhei e. Unanswered yet 7 though when you drat presented This one petition at the Father’s thrqne, It seemed you could not wait the time of asking, So urgent was your heart to make It known, Though years have passed since then, do not de spair, The Lord will answer you i ometimo, somewhere. Unanswered yeti nay, do not say ungranted. Perhaps your part is not yet wholly done. The work began when flrst your prayer was ut tered. And God will finish what he has begun, It yon will keep the incense burning there, His glory you will see, sometime, somewhere. AW OLD B ACHELOR. “overly’* young, who had been planting marigolds all the morning. Well, Joe could not be overly young now. Suppose this man should be Joe? Kizzy's head was poked inside the door. “Mias Tillie,” said she, “he’s a-goin’ to be married, the fellow with the mari golds is.” As the head diaappearod, Miss Tillie snapped the thread of her reverie, gave her head an impatient little toss, and picking up her motto and her wool, l>e- gan to work briskly? “Well, well,” she half-sighed, “if jieople do their duty, there is no doubt that things will come out all right some time.”, . Kizzy came flying In red and giggling, ilfii .Mexican Peculiarities. “Miss Tillie, Miss TiUiol” • “Yes.” “He’s an old'bachelor, Susai) Kitfc says.” i i I f { k “Mercy on us, Kizzy Jones. Who's an old bachelor?” / \ Miss Tillie Bell, had been medi tating deeply as to whether scarlet, orange or green would be best to begin with in workuig U motto, and evidently not paid due heed to the opening re marks of her hand-maid. .., , Kizzy gave her broom a flourish, and replied to the piistress’s^uestion, “The feller that’s tobk the eottdge back yonder on the hill. I don’t reckon •he is overly young. “He’s kinder grey, but not very, jest a leetle grain, an’ what do you think he’si been a-doin’ all the mornin’?” “Goodness me, Kesiah, how should I know?” " . “Been a-plantin’ marigolds in his front yard all the blessed morning.’ Bought a whole lot of pvekages of seed, Susan said, every one marigolds.” “Dear me, what a funny man!” said Miss Bell. But as Kizzy hmtg up the broom and disappeared the large cardboard motto slid on to the floor on one side of her and the skeins of worsted silk on the other, all in a tangle Of vivid color, and Miss Tillie forgot them, forgot the present entirely, and sat with her hands folded and her soft eyes looking out to the line of hills across the fields. It was the word “marigolds” that had sent her thoughts wandering, so often will one simple word waken a whole train of recollections. There was sadness mingled with these freshly-stirred remembrances, a sadness that had come to her through her first and only romance. She was young when that happened. Even now she was pretty and plump and pink. Then she was slender and (Mile, and Joe Gifford had seen the wide world in her eyes and there had been promises, and an engagement-ring, and a little brown cottage bought, back on the hill, with a funny, straggly, red-bud tree in a corner of a bit of front yard, and Til lie, who had very little money of her own in those days’ invested five cents in a paper of marigold seed to beautify the yard. .“For,” she said, “marigolds are such a hearty jolly kind of flowers. There is so much satisfaction in them-” But just as they had come up and lie- gun to bloom in huge brilliant masses of golden-yellow and velvet-soft, red- brown, three weeks before the wedding- day, what was it Jook all the light out of them—all the suggestive beauty and sweetness out of the brown cottage. : What but a horrible quarrel with Joe —a quarrel in which they had both act ed with the wisdom and common sense of a couple of belligerent children fight* ing over something asimportant as a rag doll, and breathing deadly threats against each other. And Joe had wound, it all up b> - re pairing to the bro^n cottagejn ajter- rible temper, and pullmg up even’ mari gold by the roots throwing them spite fully across the street, as near Tillie’s home as possible, where they lay, a heap of bright color, fading and wilting in the sun. If a straight slim little figure, in a grey dress, trying to loo)t ak much li£e a shadow as possible, "had slipped out of the house in the faint light of a crescent moon and gathered up or? little velvet- red marigold from thedteap moist with deyr, and if that marigold, all dead and dry, was in pne of Miss Tillie’s boxes upstairs now, why no one but Tillie had any suspicion of it. And Joe had sold the cottage and gone away. . \ “And he can «tay • away whfle .thc world lasts, for all of me,” Tillie had with some one' st&nftng solemnly behind her. “Here he is, Mias Tillie, that’s him,” she said, cimking a titter, and pointing «o <a£>qi{aie4liOuidemi man in the door way, whose thick brown hair was slightly tinged with gyay. tt was Joe Gifford,'riot looking so very different from what he had in the old days. “Tillie,” said lie, without any preface at all, “I’ve come back and Ixmght the cottage again, and planted the mari golds. “And now, don’t you think w’e had better fulfil the contract we broke so long ago?” “I thought,” fluttered Tillie, “Kizzy said “ ’Twasn’t me, ’twas Susan Kite said it, when she fetched the milk foiis eve nin’— said her brother Jeff was in the store and lieered the men a axin of him, ” pointing her elbow at-Joe, “if he was a goin to git married, and he said—‘You better reckon I am.” “And so l am tf slleilf havesihe,” an swered Joe, coming forward. “Kizzy, you run and feed the chic kens, or the cat, or something, my dear.” And as she disappeared with an un suppressed giggle, Joe went straight to Tillie, and dropping down beside her chair, tangled her wools all up by catch ing her hands as she was picking at a knot. “What impertinence,” said Tillie. “Do you suppose I have forgotten wind a scamp you were? “Have you reformed?’’ “I don’t know,” he answered serious ly. “I have tried.” “And what does your motto say? “ ’Charity suffereth long and is kind. ’ “I know that you are kind and sweet, Tillie. “Dearest Tillie, try me again.” “Ah, Joe,” sighed Tillie, “we both have need of heaven’s help. “If we go there for strength and help, we shall learn the lesson to be kind to each other.” “And when shall we he married, Tillie?” Joe asked. “Oh, not till the marigolds bloom,” Tillie answered. “Timt Durkin.” Tillie was a devout little woman, and i was bent on walking in the narrowest heavenward path she could flnd ; yet her besetting sin of temper would get in her I ‘ “Sohe pulied her In, and they res and trip her up. TOme. She changed her ch Among all classes in Mexico there is too much of the idle “rest and be thank ful” spirit. Nature has lieenbountiful; the necessaries of life are easily secured; the need of exertion is minimized; a few beans or a handful of com, a little fat, and some chillies will form the unvary ing diet for weeks. But all are inveter ate gatnblers. Although sometimes too lazy or improvident to provide even comfortable food, they will sit forhourt over cards or dice, and in their infatua tion pawn anything on which they can raise money. In selling their chillies, their eggs, poultry or other produce, they seldom have any fixed price; their demands are mainly graduated by the apparent capacity or generosity of the purchaser. Contracting to supply milk, for example, to the railroad construction gangs, after arranging for a a very ample remuneration, and going on for one, jierhaps two weeks, they will complain their cows are doing badly, get a few extra cents per gallon, and jierhaps a week later make a similar stand for a further advance. ."The merchautile classes in the towns, although they sel dom have much capital, are tolerably straightforward, endeavor to meet their engagements, and have a wholesome horror of a protested bill. Every village celebrates, at least once a year, its fiesta, where dancing, an extra amount of gambling, cock fighting, and sometimes bull-baiting are the entertainments, and where the liberal consumption of cheap intoxicants brings business into the Court of the ElcaJdi or Justice of the Peace. The Mexicans are generally more pusillanimous and superstitious than the Indians. Secret societies, under priestly control, exercise a good deal of authority. Both in Old and New Mexico the Penitates couWt their numbers by thousands, and enjoin among their vo taries fasting and humiliation, from which, however, exemption is freely ac corded on payment of certain doles. On occasions, self-flagellation and 'stripes inflicted by brother devotees are proceed ed with until the infatuated victims are covered with blood. For several hun dred yawls along a path thickly strewn with prickly cactus, others go on hands and knees to prostrate themselves before the Cross. Bearing a cross weighing several hundreds pounds, with am out stretched and secured, others toil for miles, usually to some sacred cha]iel or almost inaccessible mountain top. When til l poor enthusiast, fainting under bis burden, is about to drop, attendants place their shoulders under the arms of the crass, and afford temporary support. These senseless ]>erformances shatter yearly the health of many weakly devo tees, and kill some. The United States Government recently endeavored to put down these Juggernaut superatitions in New Mexico by introducing a hill pre venting cruelty to men or the lower ani mals, but, jealous of Interference with their i»ower and profits, the priesthood stenuously opposed it, and it was with drawn. The habits and education of the masses «ill obviously have to under go much chauge before the country can make material progress. . Ole Ensi. At a table in a Comhill restaurant, Boston at dinner recently, sat a man from Cambridge, who was a native of No"' llwnpihire. Meeting ah old ac quaintance the conversation soon turned on family topics and the pair began to talk aliout their former neighliors in a most familiar way. “Yes,” remarked the Cambridge gentleman, “Sam was in many respects different from the rest of the hoys. You remember who he mar ried? Well, when the old man, hjs father, round that he was shinin’ round with lier, he called him one day in the 1mm and said: ‘Sam d’ye intend to ijiarry Beckie? Sam never said a word, so tlie old man said: ‘Me boy, ye know all about them. I aan’t tell ye nothin’. Ye know how the sisters has turned out and uot one of them is now livin’ with ’thedr husbands. ’ Mam was mum as a nantomime anti, just aasoon as he was YeadJYhfm ftr.fl 'iterk . “They live:' on a farm, and everyttoj w r ent on smooth for alnnit a year, and came to hofc butcherin’ time. Sam got all ready to have the usual party for the occasion, and just as he was sharpenin’ up the knives Beckie came out and said: ‘Sam, I’m goin’home.’ Sam protected in hi* quiet wajt but it was no use, so he sajl lie’d get a man to row her across the pond. It wasubout half a mile over. She said: ‘No ye won’t: ye’ll row me over yerself!’ Sam told her he couldn’t, and Beckie fired up and said: ‘Thon I’ll drown meself. ’ Sam said lie’d go with her if she wanted to do that; so the boat was got ready, she got in, and they rowed out till the water was twenty feet deep. Then Sam stopped and said: ‘Well, Beckie, thih is a good place for to drown yeraelfl’ Slie didn’t open her' mouth. i Hejwaited atvhilfe and then said: ’ ‘Come; Blcleft, I’m hr-i hurry tjp git back. ’ She never looked up. Sam said, remembering how he had caUfid pqJL down the, oars, caught hold of her her an obstinate little jade, though to be and pitched Her in. She grabbed for re she called him an ogre. th « ^ M wouldn’t let her git The* first instructor iu music of Ole Bull was a Dane named Paulsen, a man thoroughly qualified in his profession, hut given to drink. At one of the week ly quartettes Paulsen imbibed so freely that he was unable to play. In thin un fortunate dilemma Ole w r as half-joking- ly told to take his place, and the violin was placed in his hand, with the promise of a stick of candy after the perform ance. Ole accepted the command in earnest. A quartette of Pleyel which he had heard several times was chosen, and his memory served him faithfully. To the astonishment of all he played each movement correctly. He not only executed the difficult passages, but marked the rests. It was a wonderful triumph for the &-year old boy. He was made at once an active member of the club. Soon after lie became the owner of a little red violin. He slept in the same room wKh his parents, and the night of its purchase he could not sleep for thinking of it. After all was quiet iu the house he crept out of bed and into the next room where the in strument had been deposited. But let him tell his own story: “When I heard father and mother breathing deep, I rose softly and lighted a candle, and in my night clothes did go on tip-toe to open the case and take one little peep. The violin was so red, and the pretty pearl screws did snrite at room in a poor hotel, a sort of soldiers’ barracks, where he had been obliged to take temporary refuge, because of the neglect of a friend to send him a money order. .Secluded from society, he spent the days iu writing on his concerto; and when evening came, and the wonderful tones of his violin sounded from the open windows, the people would as semble in the street lielow to listen. One evening the celebrated Colbran (Rossini’s first wife, and a native of Bo logna) was passing Casa Soldati and heard those strains. She ittused. The sounds seemed to come from an instru ment she had never heard before. ‘It must lie a violin,’ site said, ‘but a divine one, which will be a sulwtttute for De Beriot and Malibran. I tyuxt go and tell Zampieri.’ “On the night of the concert, Ole Bull, having retired very early on ac count of weariness, hail already been in lied twp hours, when he was roused by a rap on the door and the exclamation, ‘Cqspetto di Bacco! What stairs!’ It was Zampieri,' tfie most Eminent musi cian of the Italian nobility. He asks Ole Bull to improvise for liim, and then cries, ‘Malibran may now have her head aches!’ He my,st off to the theatre at once with the young artist. There is no time even for change of dress, and the violinist is hurried before a disap pointed but most distinguished audience. The grand duke of Tuscany was there, and DeBeriot witli his hand in a sling. It seemed to Ole Bull that he had been transported by magic, and at first that he could not meet the cold, critical ex actions of the people before him; for he knew his appearance was against him, and his weariness had almost un nerved him. He chose his own compo sition, and the very desperation of ihe moment, which compelled him to shut his eyes and forget his surroundings, made him play with an alwndon, an ecstacy of feeling, which charmed and captivated his audience. As the curtain fell, and he almost swooned from ex haustion, the house shook with reiter ated applause. “When, after taking food and wine, lie appeared with renewed strength, and courage, he asked three ladies, whose cold, critical manner had chilled him on his first entrance, for themes to impro vise upon. The wife of Prince Ponia- towsky gave him one from ‘Norma,’ and the ladies at her side, one each from the ‘Siege of Corinth’ and ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ HLs improvisation, in which it occurred to him to unite all these me lodies, renewed the excitement. The final piece was to he a violin solo. The director w’as doubtful of Ole Bull’s strength, but he stepped forth firmly, saying, ‘I will play! oh, you must iet me play!’ and again the same unrestrained enthusiasm followed. When lie finished there Vf&H a rain of flowers, and he was congratulated by Zampieri, DeBeriot and the principal musicians present. He was at once engaged for the following concert, and the assistance of the socie ty was offered for a concert of his own. One gentleman asked for sixty tickets, another for one hundred, and Emile Loup, the owner of a large theatre in Bologna. offere4*him his house and or chestra tree of excuse. The wheel of fortune was turning in his favor; the Nomswere now weaving bright threads in the web of his life. He played at both concerts, was accompanied to his hotel by a torchlight procession, made honorary member of the Philharmonic society, and his carriage drawn home by the populace. This was Ole Bull’s real debut.” A uoul Sale d<9. Captain John Hartley, late of the Twenty-second United States Infantry, walked into the shooting gallery at No. 4846th avenue,N Y. recently. He appear ed entirely cool and self-possessed. He talked with the two young men who had charge of the place about pistols and guns, and they noticed that his Ian guage was that of an educated man. “People should be very careful,” he said, “about using firearms, esjiecially when they have hair triggers.” “Yes, that’s so,” replied the attend ants. Then the party hail a quiet drink, and the stranger returned to the gal lery and began again to talk alxmt shooting. “What distance is your pistol range?’ he asked. * “Oh, about sixty feet from the coun ter to the target—twenty i«ces,” was the reply. “I prefer fifteen panes for.nistol prac tice.” said the stranger. “(Ian I lire a Hank Monk. A Crowning Danger. The famous stage driver is dead. He has been on the down grade a long time. Recently his foot lost its final hold on the brake and his coach could not be stopped until, battered and broken on a sharp turn, it went over into that canon, black and deep, which we call death. In his way Hank Monk was a character. In the old days, before the leathers under his coacli were so soaked with alcohol, there was no better balanced head than his. There was an air about him which his closest friends coidd not understand. There was something which seemed to say that stage driving was not his intended work; that, if he pleased, there were other things, even more difficult than handling six wild horses, which he could do quite as well. Generally, he was reserved of speech, sententious in his ways, hut often, while battling with a high-strung team, would pronounce an epigram worthy of Ingersoll-or Emerson, After his little episode with Greeley, distinguished men passing over the Sierras, where Monk drove, would plan to ride oiflside with him. Many a one has ridden twenty miles, trying in vain to call him out, and at last has settled back with the belief that he was but a stolid idiot, when half a dozen words from Monk, spoken w’ith hia peculiar drawl, showed that when he drove Greeley's coach over the mountains there was, perhap, as big a man outside as there w as inside the vehicle. As he was not like any other man, so he was not like any other stage driver. In his prime he would turn a six-horse coach in the street with the team at a full run, and with every rein apparently loose. But the coach would always bring up in exactly the spot that the most careful driver would have tried to bring it. His eye never deceived him, and his estimation of distances was absolute; the result which must be when leaders, swings and wheelers all were playing their roles, was with him an exact science. His driving was such a perfection of art that it did not seem art at all, and manv an envious whip, watching him, has turned away saying, “he is the luck iest man that ever climbed on top of a box.” It was not luck at all, it was simply an intuitive, exact calculation from causes to effect, and his whole duty ended when lie fixed the cause. The effect had‘to be. He has often driven from the summit of the Sierras down into the valley, ten miles, in forty- five minutes. Other drivers have done as well, the only difference being that with others it was a strain upon eye, and hand, and arm, and foot; with Monk it was a matter of course. He was to stage driving what the German IKqiers say Edwin Booth was iu Hamlet: “It w'as not played, but lived. - ” Of course we'spear of him as he was of old, when the railroad was yet beyond the Sierras, and when staging over the Sierras w as something finer than staging ever was before, or ever will lie again. Of late years Monk has been but a ghost of himself. His physical strength has liecn so wasted that no wild horses have been given him; the grades up the mountains have not been sprinkled; the locomotive took away the glory of stag ing. and bud whisky sapped the liner springs of the old driver’s life. A year ago, for the first time, a coach capsized undgr him, and while the accident seemed trival in itself, it was a notice to him that his hand had lost its cun ning, that Ills lanqis were going out, that a dark canon was before him, and there was no flnoon to rise. When this winter clased down he went into Ids little den of a house and knew that he was going to mire down in a few weeks. When friends tried to have him consent to he removed to the hospital, where he could have more comforts, lie refused and waited where he was, until Wed nesday last, when he drove Into the home station. He died simply a dissip ated old stage driver; but if in the long ago, when life was bright and hope was exultant, las heart did not receive a wound which changed his whole life, and all its purposes, than a man’s face, and acts, and moods, and models Oi thought are no indication of what he has done and suffered. The Knot and the Mile. pcau uiu siiiirc «u. tice # 7 S&lu the* 8tntllg6r. V4U1 me so! I pinched the string a little fihnf or two At thdt'Bhftan<¥? w with my fingers. It smiled at but he wouldn’t near it. Wheii she was almostdone out the said: ‘Bam, let me in that boat and ye’ll not hear inything more from me out o’ tlie way.’ "'ZSZ'«* t duckin’ ’ to. dro* went way sometimes'and trip her tip. n ^ me ‘, B1 , ie e nan 8 ea 1 Clothes “And as if ” she had said “there are ‘ entertained the guests. They’re Aud as if, she naa said, There are novr near jy eighty and you never saw’ a not higher duties in life than thinkinr happier old couple—did y^u? I don’t of an obstinate goose of a man *,yjjh a think they ever bad temper.” ]t(ince the day And yet how many, many tears she herself. over tbut little bead marigold bllrM(1 *“ u0a * when exiled Rome, but copies had For Tillie was not as unforgiving a* been taken byhiaSendk, she had tried to be. | —Ye tori nary colleges were first foun- And now a man had taken the brown ded in England in the hope of putting pottage on the Mil—a bachelor, not an end to the ravages of the murrain. me ever more and more. I took up the bow and looked at it. It said to me it would be pleasant to try it, across the strings. So I did try it, ju&i a very, very little, and it did sing to me*sweetly! Then I did creep farther away from the bed room. At first I did play very soft. I made very, very little noise. But pre sently I did begin a capriccio which I like very much, and it do go ever louder and louder; and I forgot that it was midnight and that everybody w r as asleep. Presently I hear somelhing go crack! and the next minute I feel my father’s whip across my shoulders. My little red violin dropped on the floor and was broken. I weep much for it, but it did uo good. They did have a doctor to it next day, but it never recovered its health.” In 1831, when he was 21 years old. he went to Paris to pursue his musical studies, but his money soon gave out, and he had no means of replenishing his purse. He was unknown as a musician, he could not even teach, and he was at last reduced to the very verge of star vation. The tide turned at last, how ever, and by a series of curious accidents he. was enabled.to gain a hearing before softie rich and powerful connoisseurs in music. After a successful concert tour through Italy he devoted himself to study with an intensity which wrecked his health. Visiting Bologna he won in The ‘‘knot” and the ‘‘mile”are terms often used interclmngeably, but erron- ously so. The fact is that a mile is less than eighty-seven i>er cent., of a knot. Three and one-half miles are equal, within a very small fraction to throe knots. The knot is 6,082 60 feet iu length. Tlie statute mile is 5,280 feet “Certainly.” “ tb# owet extraordinary way the great wn celebrity which followed him ever after ward. It seems tl.*** at the time of his stay in Bologna, Malibran and DeBeriot rs 4- ? — - ^ 4 , ** */Av Mvrvaa uaav-avj 4MAU c*u VCA LICXAI appear. The two had a violent quarrel, however, and refused to go upon the “Ole Bull had now been a fortnight in Bologna. He occupied an upper ly measured fifteen paces from the tar get. Tlten he took one of tlie pistols, which had lieen loaded for him with a twenty-two calibre cartridge. Holding it in his hand he turned and said: “A friend of mine was so careless once as to shoot himself in the foot just as he was about to raise tlie pistol. It is really very dangerous to i>oint the pistol toward the floor unless one is very careful.” Hartley was still cool and collected when he said: “Is the target all ready?.” “Yes; fire away. ” “Well, here goes.” Deliberately raising his right hand the startled attendants, who were awaiting the discharge, saw him press the muzzle against - his right temple. He pulled the trigger, a muffled sound followed, and Hartley fell to the floor dead. After the usual excRemeut at tending such scenes in a public place, the body was taken to the jiolice station and thence to the Morgue. It tlie pock ets was found a card, on wliich was written “John Hartley,” and a pawn- ticket for a watch, handkerchief and gloves. His suicide was mainly due to poverty No money was found on him after his death, and in his pocket was a pawn- ticket for nine dollars, borrowed on a silver watch. It is also thought that his despondency was augmented by family troubles. lie was married and was 44 .years of age. —Gustave Dore lias undertaken to model the bronze statue of Alexandre Dumas, which is to stand in the Place Maleaherbes. It will be the great ar tist" a speed in miles per hour is always con siderably larger than when stated in knots, and if a person forgets this and states a speed at so many knots, when it is really so many miles, he may be giving figures verging on the incredible. When w’e hear parties say that such a vessel is capable of making twenty knots per hour, we usually take the statement with a very large grain of salt, for twenty knots is 23.04 miles per hour, a speed which very few vessels have made and it doubted by some who have the best opportunity for making actual measurements whether any vessel has made twenty-five miles in sixty minutes. It has been said, that some oi tlie Eng lish torpedo boats have made as high as twenty-four or twenty-five knots. Tw’enty-four knots are over twenty- seven and a half miles pec hour, and twenty-five knots are upward of tw< eight and three-quarter miles per h distances that are incredible. lost An IiMth. Much has been written and said cou- ceniing the benefits and dangers that attend the use of tlie electric light. No tice has been taken of the annoyance and danger to life from the placing of tlie electric light wires on poles and buildings in proximity to other wires, noticeably those of telephone conqia- nies, contact with which may result dis astrously to persons using ’phones on the circuit thus affected. It has become an almost unwritten law that to avoid such couteugencies as far as possible all wires used for electric light circuits shall be placed below all other wires on tlie same poles, with a view to avoiding possible danger in case of breakage of those conveying the current from the dynamo-generator. Although attention has been called in emphatic manner Y» the obstacle wliich wires in general, whether on poles or buildings, are to firemen in raising ladders and -in the performance of their many ilitlimlt du ties in extinguishing fires, but little mention has lieen made of the extra danger to which they an: liable when working in the vicinity of wires carry ing the powerful currents needed for the electric light. The rapidly increasing demand for tlie light is so well known that the most siqierticial examination cannot fail to convince that danger to the fire laddies from this sourec is con stantly growing. Conversation with local lire officials shows that they are keenly alive to tin* situation and anxious that the possibility of serious results lie speedily reduced to tlie minimum. Very fortunate it is that since tlie introduction of the elec tric light in Buffalo serious fires have lieen few, and in no case has the prox imity of tlie wires caused accident to the fire-lighters. As instancing tlie vigor with which these wires make their presence known, it is related that at tlie Commercial fire w hen the new Hayes truck was on Washington Street, the extension ladder was at one time resting across the bundles of wires struug on poles through that thoroughfare. A memlier of the company was leaning on tlie ciank used to turn tlie elevatiug screw. Suddenly lie jumped as if shot and began rubbing his hands, which had lieen behind his liack resting on tlie crank. Asked what was tlie matter, tlie astonished fire laddie replied that the thing was hot. Examination so far proved the truth of the assertion that no one eared to bother the crank. In raising the extension ladder there is used a stout chain jiassing over pulleys at the top and bottom of the main ladder. This chain, it appeared, was pressing against an electric light wire, ami though the latter was insulated, enough of the IKiwerful current escaiied to make tlie electricity felt. Though the iron aliout tlie ladders and truck, together with the iron tires, seemingly made a com plete “ground,” there was still plenty of lightning left. While this incident serves to convey some idea of the im portance of these wires as a factor in fire fighting, there yet remains to be considered the danger on the inside of a building which is lighted by electricity, as is the case in many buildings occupied for business purposes on Main Street and elsewhere, ami in large'manufac tories where the light Is now iu constant use. In all of these places at all times during the night the iiowerful current passes into the building until it reaches the lamp most remote from its point of entrance and then passe* out. Whether the lights are in use, does not affect the question. While the generator is in mo tion the circuit is complete within the building, for if tlie lanqis are not in tlie use they are “switched out” by a simple lever overhead, and the current, though it does not pass through the carbon are, making its presence known by the light thus formed, it is silently circulating just as powerful aif, if seen. Bus|iended to the ceiling, as these lanqis usually are, it is easy to see that eveu a.slight fire iu store or factory may detach Imth lamp and wires from the fastenings that keep them out of harm's way. A break age of this sort and the room may lie- come a mammoth Ivoyden jar, more es pecially if tlie place is well Hooded, for water is one of tlie best conductors. Tlie ends of an electric light wire on a lloor covered with two or three inches of watet Is not a state of tilings in which the fire laddies find much comfort. Yet the firemen are by no menus enemies of the electric light, and only ask that rea sonable precautions be taken for their protection from this source of danger while at work. A simple switch phicvd outside of each customer’s premises, by which such place can lie “cut out” of the circuit and the current kept out of the building when the lamps are not in use, is sug gested by local firemen as probably the most practicable safeguard that can lie put, in operation without expense or de lay. In factories or other places where the light is used all such “cut outs” can be operated by the firemen on their arrival at the premises, while consumers using the light a shorter time can operate tlie switch with but little more trouble than iu simply switching out tlie lamps, as is now the custom. The subject in creases in importance as tlie use of the light extends, and it will probably re ceive local attoution ere long. Sin- Raters. The following currious puzzle is said to beat the celebrated “1345-14,’’.and is well worth investigation. Take a strip of paper or cardboard 13 inches long and 5 wide, thus giving a surface of 65 inches. Now cut this strip dia gonally, as true as you can, giving two pieces iu thr shape of a triangle. Now measure exactly 5 inches from the larger end of each strip and cut in two pieces. Take U&3C uipa and put them into the shape of an exact square, and it will appear to be just 8 inches each way, or 64 square inches, a loss of 1 square inch of superficial measurement, with no st’s first attempt at statuary, and only I diminution of surface. Tlie question is. single copy of the work will be cast, what becomes of that inch. The superstition of tlie sin-eater in Wales is said to Unger eveu now in the secluded vale of Cwm-Aman, in C«r- enshire. The meaning of this singular institution of superstition tliat when a person died the friends sent for the sin-eater of the district, who, on his arrival, placed a plate of salt and bread on tlie breast of the de ceased person; lie then uttered an incan tation over the bread, after which he 'proceeded to eat it—thereby eating the shis of the dead person; this done, he received a fee of two-and-sixpeuce, which, we suppose, was much more than many a pieachcr received for a long and G ainful service. Having received this, e vanished quickly as pOooiuie, all the friends and relatives of the departed aiding his exit with blows and kicks and other indication* of their faith in the service he had rendered. A hundred years since, au.' through the ages be yond that time, we suppose this curious superatitiwi was everywhere prevalent NEWS IN BRIEF —The independence and prosperity of Novgorod were destroyed by Ivan Yasi- livitch I. —The Prince of Wales has accepted the chairmanship of the Longfellow Memorial Committee. -A resident of Woodbury , Tenn., but thirty years of age, has just married for the fourth time. —Tlie petrifaction called agate was named from the river Achates, UiRicilv where it was first found. —Rich gold mines have been discover ed in Guatamala, Central America, causing much excitemeait. —The Paris Academy of Medicine offers a prize of *5,000 for the finding of a remedy for diphtheria. Valuable coal discoveries continue to lie made on the cast coast of Vancou ver's Island, British Columbia. —The different leagues of German cities were united into one bv the treaty of Heidelberg, signed in 1384. —in tlie greater part of the East, whistling is looked upon with ill-favor as a practice full of evil omen. —The contract for the Yorktown monument has lieen awarded to tlie Hollewell Granite Co., for*6,000. —The Bernese (Switzerland) Govem- iiH*ut luiM forliuUUui any meeting of the salvation Army within tlie canton. . —A resident of Holland, who died in 1872, was said to have smoked over tour tons of tobacco in Ids life of eighty years. —Bonimt, the artist, has secured, al the price of $2400, a beautiful portrait of Erasmus, draw n bv Albert Durer in 1520. • —()ne hundred and fourteen thousand small trout have Jieen recently distribu ted in the streams of Eastern' Pennsyl vania. —Ponmises are often known to form a ring aliout a shoal of small fish, and by driving them into a mass obtain a hearty meal. —The largest circular saw in the world is at Blakely, Washington terri tory. It cuts 200,000 feet in twenty- four hours. —On hearing of his having won 100,- 000 florins in one of tlie national lottery drawings, a jinor starving devil was struck dead. —Tlie ice harvest from tlie Kenneliec river is now estimated at 674,000 tons, and there were 200,000 tons left over from last year. —There are now only thirty-six es tablishments in Cologne that profess to sell the tme and only genuine eau. Iu 1829 there were sixty. —A method has been discovered bv which the pine needles of the Silesian forests can lie cured, felted and woven into serviceable cloth. —Tlie Mobile and Oliio railroad, 400 miles long, has been in ojieration twenty- seven years, and not a single passenger has ever been killed on it Tlie Peruvians buried all tlie wealth of their Incas with them, and so great was tlie amount thus interred that tlie Spaniards took *931,000 from a single tomb. —The reason why the tomlis of the Egyifiian monarchs were built in tlie desert was that in this place they occu pied no land wliich might have lieen used for agriculture. —During tlie twelve months which ended on January 31st, 1883, our im- jiorts of merchandise amounted in value to *752,727, 367, and our exports for the same period were $783,298,409. —The Marquis of Lome while in California had several dozen quails ship- lied from that State to the head keeper oti the Inverary 11100171, wiHi a view to having them acclimated in Scotland. —Tlie production of Imoks and mai>s in Germany, including new editions, during 1882 reached 14,7514, as against 15,194 in 1881. Natural science, law, iinil theology are all more weakly repre sented. Mathematics, philosophy, and modem languages increase. —Judge Jeremiah Black, referring to the rumors of the President’s marriage, says that when he was a memlier of Buclianan’s Cabinet he was continually solicited to Ik* the medium of matrimon ial overtures to Buchanan. —Mr. Frederick Archer, who in the last 10 years has won some l v 500 races, and who was married a fortnight ago, possesses a fortune estimated to be con siderable over *500,000. Mrs. Archer is the eldest daughter of Mr. John Daw son, of Warren House, Newmarket. —Louisville, Ky., Is busily making prejKirations for a great industrial ex hibition next August. The citizeas liave subscribed $250,000, ask for no out side help, and are putting up the main building, which will cover thirteen acres. The show will open August 1, and will continue 100 days. —In the town of Woodbridge, Ct., aliout six miles from New Haven, there Is an oak tree said to be from 1,000 to 1,800 years old,the oldest of its kind known in America. It is thirty feet in circumference at the base, and some of its branclies spread sixty feet beyond the trunk. It is yet vigorous. —Beyond the Mississippi River there are 1,200,000 square miles not settled by wliitc men, and of this area 240,000 square miles, embracing much of the best land, are included ~within Indian reservations, while much of the remain der consists of mountainous tracts, lands inaccessible or sterile and arid re regions wliich cannot be irrigated. —A few yeaiuagoasLOT'atious known as “Bands of Mercy” were formed in England, the object of which was to inculcate and promote kindness to ani mals. They have achieved a great suc cess, especially in teaching children to show’kindness to the dumb creation. The Earl of Shaftesbury is at the head of the organization. —Tlie annual report of the London Peabody Trust shows tlie net gain for Uie year to have been almost *150,000. It has now provided for the artisan and laboring class 6,160rooms, exclusive of bath rooms, laundries, ana wash houses. The trustees show in their report that jbhe fund has been expended strictly in accordance with the donor’s expressed wishes. • .4^ 1 1 * I mm itr -