The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, April 19, 1883, Image 1
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^
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