The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, May 19, 1883, Image 1
WINNSBORO. 8. U. MAY 19, 1883.
ESTABLISHED 1848
A SONG OF LONG AGO.
of long ago,
^jwhtly—»iug it low—
SingWi*.like the lisping of the lips we
used n>TL»tow
When our baby—la0?;§4eC8iyll«I
From the hearts forever filled'
With a music sweet as robin ever trilled.
the
Let the fragrant summer breeze,
A ml the leaves of locust trees,
And the apple-buds and blossoms, and the
wings of honey-bees,
All palpitate with glee,
Till the happy harmony
Brings back each childish joy to you and
me.
Let the eyes of fancy turn
Where the tumbled pippins bum
Like embers in the orchard’s lap of tousled
grass and fern;
And let the wayward wind,
Still singing, plod behind
The cider-press—the good old-fashioned
kind!
Blend in the song the moan
Of the dove that grieves alone,
And the wild whirr of the locust, aud the
bumble’s drowsy drone;
And the lotv of cows that call
Through the pasture-bars when all
The landscape faints away at even fall.
Then, far away and clear,
Through the dusky atmosphere,
Let the wailiug of the Kildee be the only
sound you hear;
O sweet and sad and low
As the memory may know
Is the glad—pathetic song of Long Ago!
KATIE’S LANTERN.
Truth to tell, the comfortable, old-
fashioned farm-house, at the foot of the
narrow and rocky ledge, had a most
pictuesgue position. Away to the.
southward wound and sra iled the fer
tile valley, a goodly proportion of
whose acres appertained to Grandfather
Crowninshield, and along the edge
thereof swept the curves of the railway
after what seemed its birth in the clo
ven ledge so very near to Katie Crown-
inshield’s home. As for Kate Lerseif,
with her sweet, fresh face and her mer
ry brown eyes, the little valley and her
nestling home were all the world to her,
indeed, that she had ever known, for
site had been but a wee thing when
Grandfather and Grandmother Crown
inshield became father and mother to
her, in place of those whose faces she
could now hardly remember. Neither
did it ever occur to her that she was in
any sense an heiress, for she seemed
rather to belong to the valley tlian the
valley to her; while the idea, if any
thing had brought it to her mind, that
her good old grandparents were not to
live forever, would have turned the
brightest June day to the gloomiest
December.
But, in these latter years, one great
entity had painfully struggled into
Kate’s world, with an apparent mission
to unite the valley with that great un
known, which lay beyond the bills and
ledges. Kate had seen the ragged rift
cloven in the granite wall, watching it
curiously from door or window, and
listening for the dull reports of the
blasting charges, until the barrier was
parted and the railway crept out and
louud its way down through the valley ;
and, ever since the trains began to ruu,
she had connected with them the idea
of a life that was almost human. She
had waved her handkerchief enthusias
tically to the very tirst tiain, and had
been liberally responded to by passen
gers aud conductor; and, although she
had been then a little girl and was now
a young lady, she had never yet dream
ed of any unmaidenly boldness in giving
the same white signal of welcome, at
times, when the great railway mystery
came rushing out of the cloven wall
There was one train in particular to
which Katie's attentions were at last
pretty well restricted—a through-ex-
prees, which went by at eight o’clock in
the morning, aud there was another
from the same direction again at eight
o’clock at night. From the former,
just as easily as her own dainty “ good-
morning 1 ” fluttered above the garden-
gate, so certainly would theoe be a
fleeting flash of white to answer her
from the platform of one of the cars, or
even from the engine itself, for that,
too, had happened. And Katie knew
very well tliat, in these latter days, at
least, her answer had always come from
the same hand. A tall, erect, manly
fellow he was, dressed in dark-blue
cloth ; and Katie had been well aware,
for a good while, that he was the con
ductor of the train, but she had never
yet been near enough to speak to him,
or get any clearer notion of his face and
its meaning than might be given her in
those swift but almost daily glimpses.
When or how he found his way back to
the beginning of his perpetual journey,
was a question that Katie never asked
even ot herself, it was enough that,
every morning the swift train brought
him out of the unknown country be
yond the hills; and added a something
that had grown to be very pleasant to
the peace and quiet of her day.
There was something veiy noteworthy
even to railway men, about the manner
: in which the road broke in upon that
valley. A deep cut, a sharp curve and
i heavy down-grade, combined to'make
ire precise point where the conductor
had learned to look for Katie’s greeting
interesting one ; and her white ker-
| chief may even have seemed to wave a
| species of congratulation at his repeat-
[ed safe passage of what might at any
[time have shaped itself into a danger.
But that as it may, the railway "cut”
ihiwi urougbt to Katie Cruwunishieid.
rong other results, a shorter aud
her path to the home of her aunt, her
rother’s sister, who lived just a little
vay beyond the ledge, and who was
aever satisfied if too many days passed
without bringing the sunlight ot
Latie’s face across her threshold. ' And
Katie iiad gone and returned, many
ad ‘many a ilme, by the narrow path
Bbween the granite walls. Nobody in
*t peaceful region di earned of fear at
out after dark; and again and
gam had good Aunt Betsy detained
er pet mitii night Mi fallen, although
ur only companion homeward was her
little star of a lantern.
There came a day when Katie’s hand-
Brchief fluttered in vain, and then an-
sr, when even the reply she received
mi the train convinced her that there
been a change of some kind, aud
it she would receive no more signals
from the same hand. .And so she sadly
prepared to give it up, in the first fit of
genuine blues she had ever indulged in;
but, a few evenings afterward, she
lingered^ »wi^ | yx.-.i> 1T )-yate^little afte^
ftlrretum from Aunt Betsey’s, to see’
night-express go flashing by. It
was a grand sight when it came, incom
parably more interesting and myster
ious in the darkness than ever in the
day, aud Katie wondered she had never
thought so before ; but she almost un
consciously raised her little lantern, and
swung it around her head as she had
used to wave her handkerchief.
Could she believe her eyes V
She almost refused to give them any
faith at first, but then there followed a
quick flush in her cheek and a warm
glow at her heart; for she was sure
there had been an answering light, and
she could almost, picture a tall form in
dark-blue clothing, standing on the
platform between toe two cars.
And now, while the October days
grew cooler aud glorious evenings long
er, Grandmother Crowninshield began
to grumble a little at the disposition
her darling evinced to pay so many
visits to Aunt Betsy.
“It’s a long walk for you, child,”
she said, “and it’s through toe cut,
too. What if a railway train should
coma along before you get out ? ”
** O grandmamma, that’ll never hap
pen,” laughed Katie; “the railroad
and I are very good friends.”
“ You ought to be,’’said grandmoth
er. “I never saw any living being care
more for a dumb thing than you’ve al
ways done for that there train.” *
But grandmother was nearer -right
than Katie ; for only a night or so after
that—it must have been that Aunt
Betsy’s clock was slow—for Katie was
iq. toe very middle of the cut when her
ears was suddenly filled with the shriek
and roar with which the trhin dashed in
at toe upper end.
Her heart beat quickly for a moment
but nut with fear; for, as she sprang
lightly upon a projecting rock that she
had often before noted as a very avail
able perch, she gathered her fluttering
dress more closely about her aud ex
claimed :
“ There, I’m safe enough; but to
think of us coining so near! ”
Near enough, indeed, and Katie
leaned back hard against the crag be
hind her ; for it seemed as if she could
feel the breath of the iron monster on
her cheek. In one hand she clutched
more tightly the folds of her shawl,and
in the other she raised the lantern, as if
its feeble star could oe of some protec
tion, and then her grasp of it grew sud
denly very tight, indeed; for leaning
out a little from the platform of a car,
aud looking forward, as if impatient
for the train to clear the cut, stood a
tall, handsome, bearded man, m dark-
blue clothes, with a lantern in his hand
and his eager, watching, expectant face,
came so very close to her own 1
It was like a flash of lightning ; but
Katie knew the face, aud she knew also
that she herself had been seen, and she
had ven milked the swift paling of
me bronzed visage as it recognized her
and then swept on into the darkness
beyond.
“lie was afraid I would be hurt,”
she thought; and then she said aloud :
“But he must have seen how safe I
was, up here on the rock. I don’t be
lieve he swung his lantern at our gar
den-gate to nigiit.”
Aunt Betsey’s house was some little
distance from the upper entrance, and
the approach to the latter was gloomy
enough, the next night of her visit,
even for one who knew every inch of
the way as well as Katie did ; but her
little lantern shone out cheerily against
its bright reflector, throwing its radi
ance auead, as if it were trying to tell
her : “ There, dear, that’s it; don’t
be afraidy now, I’d show you the
track!” She had not gone far, how
ever, before the granite walls brought
to her ears, all the way from toe lower
end aud .round the curve, as if the cut
had been a speaking-tube, the sound of
voices .that were evidently meant to be
low and guarded. There were other
sounds # mmgled with the voices, and
Katie could not make out more tlian a
word or so here aud there, but there
was something about it all that start
led and frightened her. At first she
was half incimed to turn and make the
best of her way back to Aunt Betsy’s;
but that seemed foolish, and Katie was
really a courageous little soul. She
hid her lantern under her shawl, how
ever, and stepped very lightly and
swiftly forward, trying to remember if
there were not a rock or hollow where
she would be as safe from men as she
had been from the passing train. She
was very nearly through, herself, be
fore she could anyway make out what
it all meant; but, as she paused in the
deep shadows of the rocks and peered
timidly out toward toe now dull and
muffled sounds, with which the voices
were no longer mingled, a broad quick
gleam, as from a lantern suddenly
shaded or extinguished, shot across toe
track not many yards below, and then
all was darkness and silence .
But that one moment of illumina
tion had revealed extraordinary things
to the keen, excited vision of Kate
Crowninshield.
There were men, three or four, she
could not say just how many, but
rough, fierce, wild, and anxious-looking
aud before them on the railway track,
from which toe rails had been priea
away just there, was a confused heap of
heavy granite boulders and fragments.
Katie understood it as clearly as if those
men had taken her into their confidence
and had told her words.
It was a plot to wreck the train!
And now she was oqt in the open air
beyond the upper entrance, and site
coidd see the peaceful light still shining
from Aunt Betsy’s window. But there
was no time to go there for help.
The train must-be so very near 1
Katie did for a moment think of
kindling a bright fire on the track, but
that would take too long, and toe great
ruin and horror would come before
even a small fagot wornd be well ablaze.
*■ There's nothing but my own little
lantern,” almost sobbed poor Katie.
“ Maybe he will know it when he sees
it, but he must lie warned before he
reaches the cut.”
The lantern shone like a frosty little
star determined to be seen as Katie
sprang forward up the track. She had
not far to go, for the train was ahead
of time to night, instead of being be-
hiifll, as would have been more desir-
euMtef^the circumstances. Never
had anything appeared to Kate Crown
inshield more suddenly than did the
great, glaring eyes of the locomotive
headlight, that now glowed upon bar
out of the overshadowing night, and
her lantern seemed to have instantan
eously vanished.
“ It is so small,” she cried in agony,
“ and he will never see it.”
Nevertheless, on a low mound of
earth and stones, close by the side of
track, Katie took her post of charity
and danger, and swung her little lan
tern frantically to and fro, while she
now tried to make her sweet girl’s voice
heard through the roar and clamor of
the rushing train.
On came the railway giant, tugging
with him his precious freight of human
life, and it flashed upon Kate Crownin
shield’s mind what an awful capacity
for suffering that train might have on
board. On, with toe great glare and
the all-absorbing torrent of sound, and
almost before Katie knew it, the object
of her hope and fear had dashed ruth
lessly past her, and was quickly swal
lowed up from her sight in the rocky
jaws of the deep cut. With a cry of
grief and disappointment on her lips,
and a strange thrill of pain at her heart
the poor girl sank upon the ground and
buried her face in her hands, while the
little lantern dropped neglectedly be
side her.
Onlv for one brief instant, however,
did Katie yield to the terror and the
trouble of it, for in another she had
picked up her starry friend, sprang to
her feet, and darted away down the
railroad track toward the cut. She was
light of foot as any fawn, and there
were sad wings to her speed, but it
seemed to her as if she would never get
through the cut. She paused a moment
when she reached toe lower one, to
gather breath and to brush the salt mist
from her eyes before she looked upon
the awful scene she knew must be pre
pared for her.
And then—why, there was the train,
the rear car rising close in front of her
while the others (and there were but
few of them that night) stood all erect
upon their wheels beyond—not all upon
the track, to be sure, but all apparently
safe—all, except one great, dark mass,
whose polished metal glittered in the
varying lights that flashed upon it, and
whose hoarse throat screamed angrily
with the escaping steam, for the loco
motive had come to grief pretty decid
edly among the granite boulders that
were heaped on the track by the fiends
who had planned the wreck. The
passengers were swarming out of toe
cars, and none of them seemed to be
hurt at all, nor did Katie hear a sound
that told of pain as she swiftly thread
ed her way among and past them. She
had caught a glimpse of a group away
beyond even the shattered locomotive,
however, which forbade her lingering
for an instant. Right down toward her
own garden-gate four men were carry
ing a heavy burden, and others werd fol
lowing, aud Katie heard them say, as
she darted by :
“ Who is it ?”
“Why, its the conducto-. He was
thrown from the platform of the for
ward car.”
“ Is he killed ?”
“They say so. Nobody else was
hurt. He was a splendid fellow.
A tall, handsome, bearded man, in
dark-blue clo.hing, but his face was
ghastly pale when they laid him on
Grandfather Crowninshield’s own bed,
and the surgeon, who had been among
the passengers, beet gloomily above
him.
“ Head all right,” muttered the man
of science. “ Only a cut or so. Ah,
there’s a rib, two of ’em, and his arm
below the elbow. Struck the ground
so, that’s clear, and the other bones are
likely to be all right. Must have been
leaning out to look ahead, I should
say. Hullo, what’s that light on his
face ?”
The light in the room, what with toe
crowd aud the country candles, had
been none of the brightest, but just at
this moment a clear, golden gleam was
poured down on the face of the injured
man, and slowly, as if the radiance it
self had awakened him, he opened his
eyes and looked dreamily about him.
The surgeon heard a sigh that was
half a sob close behind him, and looked
up lo see that the sudden light came
from Katie and her lantern, but just
then the questioning eyes of the wound
ed conductor fell upon her face,
and he exclaimed, faintly but earnest
ly :
“I knew it was you. There was
hardly room to stop the train in, but
we’d have all gone to pieces if it hadn’t
been for you and your light. You’ve
saved them all, God bless you I”
And so Katie Crowninshield sudden
ly found herself a heroine, with a
swarm of grateful people about her,
very much to her discomfort. They
would have made her a present if she
would have allowed them, but the only
really welcome words toe heard from
any one were those of the surgeon.
“ What, killed ? A man like him ?
Nonsense I He’ll carry his arm in a
sling for a month or so, but he’ll be up
again in a fortnight.”
Or course, no tune was lost in repair
ing the track and in forwarding the
passengers, and a few hours only saw
the farm-house as quiet and peaceful-
looking as ever. Even the surgeon had
done his work and gone. The engine
lay battered and helpless among the
boulders where it had forced its willful
way. The conductor lay still on grand
father Crowninshield’s bed, and the
fitful slumbers toe surgeons* opiate gave
were starry with signals that white
fingers held up before his dreaming
eyes. As for Kate and her lantern, the
latter had fairly burned itself out and
asleep on the little table in Katie’s own
room, and toe herself had by no means
clearly comprehended, as yet, the happy
consequences of her railway signaling.
It was very much like a dream to her.
for Katie was no prophetess, nor coula
even toe lantern throw any light upon
j toe future. She could not see, just
then, and yet- the days that followed
brought it all to pass, that neither she
herself nor grandfather and grandmother
Crowninshield would consent to any
more railroading or signali.^. It was
much better, indeed, they declared, nor
did he himself pretend to deny It, that
Katie’s husband should farm broad
acres of toe fertil valley than that he
should be at the mercy of train wreck-
era and wayside lanterns. And when
the question was decided to her liking
such a hug and kiss was that which
Kate Crowninshield gave.
“ To whom ?” t
“ Why, to her lantern, of course.”
Bfedlaeral Customs.
The Hoftmrg, the ebief palace of the
Austrian sovareigna, Jifa bean the scene of
an eccl< sissticHl Cereifllby or act of devo
tlon which is a ourtods renc of mediaeval
customs. In accordance with a usage ob
served from time immemorial on Maun-
day-Thursday the cerem my of “washing
the feet of tue poor’* was this morning
performed as usual by their Majesties at
the imperial residence. In the Middle
Ages the Cuatom prevailed at many other
Catholic Courts, but In the present day
to find a parallel would be impossible ex
cept at the Vatican and the palace of the
King of Spain. The proceedings opened
at 9 o’cloc t, when twe ve old men, of
wh >m the oldest is in his nine > - turd
year and the youngest eishty-teven, and
twelve old women, the oldest mnety-six
and the younest ninety, dressed, as usual,
in the old German costume, presented to
them by the Emperor and Empress, en
Usred the court chapel, in order to receive
the sacrament, an t were then brought
into the Hall of Ceremonies at the Hof-
burg. On each side of the bail was a
table with twelve covers, the one table for
the old men aud the other for the old
women. They are all pit z ms of Vienna,
and many among them showed by their
behavior that they bad taken part in the
ceremony more than once. With the ap
pearance of the clei^man at 11 A M. the
ceremony began. The Emperor, who was
followed by all the Arthdukes present in
Vienna, served the old men and the Em
press, followed by all the Archduchesses
and court ladies, served the old women at
their respective tables. The Corps Diplo
matique was, as usual, in attendance, but
this year, for reasons generally known, tbe
B itish, French aud Turkish ambassadors
did not appear. All the ministers were
present, as well as court dignitaries and
privy councillors, tbe chamberlains, the
granumastere and tbe highest representa
tives of tbe army. The tables being re
moved, the Emperor and Empress knelt
d iwnln fn a of each of the old people,
tooa off a shoe and stocking from each,
washed the foot with towels moistened
from a golden ewer, held by a chamber-
lain. Atter the feet of £tie old people had
been wiped the ArohduSes and Arohduch-
the shoe ami
Various Kinds of Iminfcards.
replaced the shoe ami stocking, and
their Majesties concluded the ceremony by
hanging round the neck of each of the old
people a purse with thirty silver fl wins.
The old folks were then sent home m cabs,
each with a well filled box of provisions
and wine.
The Sheep of Thibet.
The sheep of Thibet, which are very
uuiner^us, are chiefly a small variety of
the fal-rumped Persian and Abyssinian,
with black heads and necks. Home are
hairy, with short wool underneath, while
others bear a long soft and line wool. It
is from the latter that many of the costly
Indian shawls are made Not a little ot
this peculiar wool Suds it way to British
India, and is there manufactured. This
breed is touuit to its purest state in the
dusens of ti eat Tartary; no other varie y
being near to contamma e its blood. t
rescues far into the interior and northern
parts of Russia ami is much disseminated
in Cuioa, Persia, Bmdoetan, A ia Miner
amt eastern Africa as we 1 as Tuibet. In
Palestine it is more numerous than any
other breed; indeed the largest propoi-
tion of the sheep of northern Asia being
of tbis description. Professor Pa lias cou
jwtures that this ch >racter arises in the
fat mmptd sheep from their feeding upon
the bitter and a Jim planta found upon tbe
borders of the Caspian and Black sear.
And he asserts that when the/ are removed
from tbs places where these plants grow
the fatty excrescence bee mes less. But
Banfleld says, as the fat rumped and fat
tailed sheep are varieties which are widely
<T -persed, it seems more probable that th< j
may have been produced by acmdem ai d
may also have lieen perpetuated by acc
dent, de-igu or fancy. Ine fat tailed
aheep is very expensively diff is. d it is
found ihroughout Asia and a great part of
Africa, aa well as through the northern
parta of Europe. They differ, like other
sheep in the nature of their covering, m
Madagascar, and in some other hot c!i-
matea, they are bairy; at tbe Cape of Good
Hope they are covered sftth coarse wool;
in the Levant their wool U extremely fine
The proportion which the weight of the
tall in some of there sheep bears to the
w iole carcase is quite remaikable.
Tbe usual dressed weight of- the sheep
is from fitly to sixty pounds, of which tbe
tail is sai l to make m we than one fourth
part. Russel describes two breeds or fat
tailed sheep abo it Aleppo; in one U • le
posit of caudal fat is moderate, in the other
sort the tail la much larger. The unctuous
fat of the tails of these sheep is accounted
a great delicacy alike by the Boers and the
Hoitentote of southern Afr.ca. Tbe Hol-
umtots, in their primitive condition pos
sessed immense fl >cks and pursued the
pastoral arts with great success
Strong Mucllaga.
A very strong mucilage, having suffl
Cleat tenacity to fasten sheets of p uie-
ooard together, and having the additional
advantage of being water proof, can tie
made by melting together < q tal parts of
pitch sa 1 gutta p ;rcba. To mne parts of
this add three pnrts of boiled oil and one-
filth part of litharge. Continue tbe he*
with stirring until thorough union of ttie
ingredients is effected. Apply the mixture
hot or somewhat cooled, and thinned wrh
a small quantity of benzolo or turpentine
oiL
A auKTLUKAN, whuM ouw and cheek
had become distinctly colored with the
red wine he waa wont to imbibe, said
one day to his little son at the table
’You ma t eat bread, my boy; bread
makes your cheeks red/* The little
boy replied; “Father, what lota of bread
you must have swallowed/*
Some men seem to become drunk
suddenly, giving no previous indication
by thickness of articulation or unsteadi
ness of gait; this being commonly the
case where mental excitement from
other causes—as a heated discussion—
prevails at the time. The most dread
ful and astounding cases are afforded
by those unfortunate people who are
never sober. How they manage to
survive so long as they do is a mystery.
There are men who have been perpetu
ally under the influence of liquor for
twenty or thirty years. Of course, toe
brain must have become permaneqtly
injured, so that we may infer that the
drink these persons now take has little
or no real effect on them, and that their
state would just be the same without
it. Others, again, are systematic and
punctual drunkards of regular habits,
men who take their quantum and are
put to bed unconsciaus every night, yet
are capable of attending to their daily
business in toe most extraordinary
manner. These, as a rule, never ex
ceed a given amount by so much as a
glass, and do not suffer so much as
intermittent drunkards—at any rate
not so soon, for the inevitable conse
quence is only a little longer deferred.
The writer knew an old doctor in Ja
maica who used to aver that the
climate was the finest in the world.
“Yellow fever, sir?” he would exclaim
—” not a bit of it! A vulgar chimera!
A malicious libel on us! The fact is,
its the vicious irregular drinking
mbits of the people here that kills ’em.
I drink a bottle of brandy every night,
and have done so for thirty years. I
get tipsy seven times a week, in an
orderly and decent manner; and I’ve
never had yellow fever nor a day’s illj
ness!” And to all appearance he was a
line, healthy man of sixty-five or seventy
years, with a beard as white as snow.
Yet he waa carried off suddenly by a
trifling indisposition incidental to the
climate; and it was found on examina
tion of his papers after death that his
age was only fifty-two.
It docs not by any means follow 1
either, that because a man is never in
toxicated he may not be drinking too
much. Men employed in the great
ireweries in London, especially the
draymen, consume an enormous quan
tity of beer. The daily allowance
which their employers give them is a
very large one, but they rarely confine
themselves to that; and the draymen,
in addition, get much gratuitously from
the customers to whom they are always
delivering the' casks; so that ten or
fourteen quarts is no exceptional con
sumption for one man; yet they are not
drunkards, in toe ordinary sense of the
tenn. The very nature of their work
necessitates the employment of none
but steady men, strength being also a
sine qua non. But if one of these men
should break a limb, or get confined to
bed from any other accident, he is
almost sure to get delirium tremens;
and a scalp-wound frequently kills him.
Brewers’ men are notorious in hospitals
as being the worst cases for operation,
being prone to exhibit all the most dan
gerous complications whicli fetter the
success of stugical treatment.
Cattle Hailing in Texan.
A Story ot “John Phoenix.'
The typical cowboy is with us almost
a tiling of the past, not simply because
the number of cattle has so decreased
of late, but because tbe manner of baud*
ling them has undergone a radical
change. Time was when an owner of
1,600 or 2,000 head of cattle would find
employment for fifteen or twenty
vaqueros; under the present system
three men can now perform the functions
for which five times that number were
requisite a few years ago. It was for
merly the custom upon our ranches to
“looae-herd” toe cattle during the day
and to round them up on the “bed
ground,’ or pen them in corrals for the
night. Now we have immense past
ures, inclosed by many miles of barbed
wire fencing, in which cattle roam at
will by day or night. The pasture fen
ces are examined and kept in repair by
men detailed upon the ranches for that
purpose. Ten years ago the cattle were
driven North from Texas without re
gard to sex, age or condition. The re
sult was that Texas was almost drained
of breeding as well as of beef cattle.
Now there is some discretion exercised,
and it is the exception not the rule for
cows and calves to be driven “up the
trail” or the shipping centres. Many
of our stockmen have introduced fine
cattle of Durham and other breeds on
their ranches with a view to improving
their stock. Full-blooded cattle how
ever, are not easily acclimated, nor do
they do well unless fed. The half-bred
cattle seem to thrive, and in time the
long-homed native cattle will be sup
planted by a mixed breed of finer qual
ity. Two species of the musca, known
here as the “heel fly” and “screw fly,”
are the bane ot the cattle men. The
former look very like the ordinary honey
bee, and deposit a nit upon the leg of
the animal below the knee. The nit in
time devolps into a worm, and eats its
way into the flesh. The “screw fly” is
much like the blue bottle fly, and at
tacks the animal wherever the flesh is
laid bare, by branding or making the
ears; it leaves a nit from which the
worm is hatched by animal heat. Some
time since a valuable calf got screw
worms In one of its ears. It was doc
tored, and it was thought cured. It
died recently, and upon opening the
skull it was found that the screw worms*
had eaten their way to the brain. The
present system of branding and making
the ears not only disfigures the cattle
and destroys the hide, but as may be
seen from the above statement is dan
gerous. •
The invitations sent of late to naval
officers requesting them to furnish sug
gestions for a change of uniform “re
mind me”—as Mr. Lincoln would have
said—of a similar invitation issued by
Jeff Davis when he was Secretary of
War under General Frank Pierce.
One of these invitations was sent to
Lieutenant Derby, a good draughtsman
and a merry wag, who sent in response
a proposition for having a two-inch iron
ring appended by a piece of strong
leather to the seat of each enlisted
man’s trtmsers. Long and formal
specifications demonstrated the utility
of this ring. Each officer was to cany,
instead of a sword, a long ash pole, with
a hook on one end. By hooking into
the ring of a private he could be kept
in line of battle if h^were disposed to
liang back, or caught if he attempted
to run away. The ring would also be
useful in the artillery service for draft
purposes, and in the cavalry men could
be locked to other rings in their saddles
and so kept from -falling off. The
illustrations which accompanied the
specifications represented officers catch
ing infantry stragglers and forcing
them into the ranks, dragoons pad
locked to their saddles, and artillery
men with cannon-prolongs hitched to
their rings, hauling huge pieces of ar
tillery up steep heights. It was very
funny, and the clerks in the War De
partment enjoyed some hearty laughs
over it; but when it reached the Secre
tary he became indignant and regarded
it as an insult. He ordered charges and
specifications to be drawn up, and a
court-martial was actually ordered,
when it came to the ears of Governor
Marcy, then Secretary of the^State, who
was level-headed, and who adv’ A
Davis to let the matter drop. He
might convict Derby and dismiss him
from tbs service, but he Would be
laughed at from one end of the country
to the other. Davis took the advice,
and Derby’s “suggestions” are still to
t be found on the fil^s of the War De
partment,
A Heroine of Tei-el-Keblr.
The old retriver Juno, who earned
such undying fame by leading the gal
lant Gordon Highlanders at Tel-el-Ke-
bir, waa(the admired of all observers the
other day at Cairo when the regiment
paraded to recoive the medals won by
its members during the campaign. Col
onel Hammill, C. B.. pointed out the
distinguished dog to General Sir Arch
ibald and Lady Alison, and we doubt
not that among the spectators there was
a very general feeling of regret when
Juno had to content herself with com
pliments and caresses instead of re
ceiving the honorable decoration she so
thoroughly deserved. Owing, too, to
unavoidable circumstances she could
not be included in either of the photo
graphic groups of the regiment which
were taken by command of the Queen.
One of these gave the portraits of all'
who distinguished themselves at Tel-
el-Kebir, and the other was representa
tive of each rank in the gallant cor]».
There was room for Juno on both, in
the former by reaso n of her being the
first member of the British force to
rush” Arabi’s entrenchments, and in the
second on Account of her being “the
regimental dog” par excellence, It
will be a national shame and scandal if
Juno’s likeness is handed down to pos
terity without something in it to show
that the English people recognized
their debt of gratitude to the noble
dog. When we first described her gal
lantry at Tel-el-Kebir we suggested
that a silver collar, bearing a suitable
inscription, would form an appropriate
decoration, and we now Venture to re
peat the proiiosal. The sentimentality
which went to such excesses in the case
of Jumbo might find a much more
deserving object in Juno.
Exercising the Devil
A corrospondent at San Luis Rey
Indian Agency gives the following de
scription of the manner in which the
savages drive + he evil one away: “The
Indians do not like to take medicines,
but they held a few iLovs ago a Jiesta for
three successive nights for the purpose
of decoying the demon of sickness, and,
if possible catch and kill him. T t was
the best I have yet seen in the luimy
years of my acquaintance with the lill'
and customs of these Mission Indians-
After a lot of bucks, naked, but fixed
up with paint and feathers, had exhaus
ted themselves by dancing and stamp,
ing the ground about an hour around a
big fire, and got noarse from grunting
and howling, an old gray buck, the
chissero, stepped into the center of the
ring and began, in a low, mournful voice
to sing. He was dressed—or rather, un
dressed— the same as the others, with
the exception that he held a rattle made
out of the tails of rattlesnakes
hand, while on his head was
formed of three bunches of pi
“From time to time he wi
the ring up on the hillside a:
up in the air in all directions,
a decoying voice for the ghi
he returned he always exp]
few whispered words how
was and how dangerous it wi
and that lie was very much afi
last, when he came back again
hill, he danced three times ar!
fire, when he was seized with’
convulsions, which brought him,
fearful moans (and seemingly he sul
fered terrible pains), to the ground.
But he still had force enough left to
pull out the bundles of feathers from
his head. With these he rubbed his
chest, and this releasing him from the
power of the demon, he jumped up and
with fearful yells everybody followed
him in a wild tumult, men, women and
children crying: '■Matalo, matalo,' (kill
him), and beating the ground with the
sticks they had ready for the occasion.
“ I got out of the way then, for they
seemed to be a lot of wild maniacs.
When they returned to the ring they
all stood up in a circle, the old ‘chissero’
dug a hole in the center, and after some
more singing and stamping the ground,
pulled one of the bundles of feathers
from his head, and going around rub-
bed tt against each parson. From time
to time he returned to the hole, and
seeming to suck some juice from them,
he spat it into the hole. Then he filled
it again, stamped the ground down,
and with fearful yells the same wild
beating of the ground followed, in
which even old Vicente took part. This
concluded the cermonies and everybody
went home feeling satisfied that he was
the one who had hit or killed the ghost
and no more sickness was going to pre
vail in the village. The whole made a
picturesque scene—the swarthy old
bucks with their sweaty faces illumina
ted by excitement and dancing; the
huge fire burning in the middle, of
which once in a while a kick would send
the flames and sparks away up to the
tops of the trees; the stern face of the
captain sitting on a chair with a long
rod in his band and the audience with
eager expectation sitting on the ground;
the ‘fair sex’ doing their part in ‘sing
ing.’ Then owls would fly overhead
through the branches of the dark,
shadowing oaks, joining in with their
voices and adding to thq awe of the
whole, while fair Luna’s face rose,
shining in its soft, splendor, above the
mountains to illuminate it all. ”
How Canada Got It* Name.
The origin of the word Canada is cu
rious enough. The Spaniards visited
tliat country previous to tbe French,
and made partial searches for gold and
silver, and finding none, they often
said among themselves “A can nada”
(There is nothing here). The Indians,
who watched closely, learned the sen
tence and its meaning. After the de
parture of the Spaniards the French ar,
rived, and the Indians, who wanted
none of their company, and supposed
they also were Spaniards come on the
same errand, were anxious to inform
them that their labor was lost by tar
rying In f hat country, and frequently
repeated to them the Spanish sentence
“A can uada.” The French, who knew
as little of Spanish as the Indians, sup
posed this incessantly-recurring sound
was toe name of Canada, which it has
borne ever since.
Culownl Mtxioan Farms.
Much has been said and written of
the great extent and large possibilities
of Mexican haciendas. But probably
few people in the United States even
yet realize the extent of some of these
tracts of land, where a million or a mil
lion and a half of acres often constitute
a single estate in the hands of the own
er. There are many such estates in
Mexico large enough to hide away
many a European principality, large
enough to awaken the envy of many a
land proprietor in the Pacific Coast
States of the American Union. They
are to be found in many of the Central
and Northern States of Mexico. The fa
mous Salado ranch, for example, con
tains over 600 square miles of land. It
lies partly in the States of Nuevo Leon,
Coahuila, Zacatecas and San Luis Po-
tosi, on the highway to Mexico, and on
the line of toe new railroad. It occupies
the central table lands of Mexico at mi
average elevation of 4000 feet. Chains
of mountains traverse the estate, rich
in mineral wealth. The bounderies of
the estate extend more than 100 miles
from north to south, and flourshing
farms and large mining towns are met
at frequent intervals.
A New Method for the Analjrels of OIU.
The author treat* a measured quantity
of oil with a measured quantity of stand
ard caua..o alkali. Teuc. c of oil mea
sured with a oipeite were heated in a
boiling water btlh for an hour with 20 c.
e ot a solution of potarsa, which would
neutralize 128 c c of sulphuric acid at
98 grms —loO) a c. At the end of this
heating the inaeed oils mentioned in the
previous memoir all yielded f cane of
soap solid or very firm when hot, always
solid when cold, and easily separated by
ere draining. The alkaline solution la
very differently acted upon by different
aanpea. It s til no ralizes smaller
quantities of acid, differing In case of
every sample.
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