University of South Carolina Libraries
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. 0.. JUNE 23. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 THE VERDICT —or— THE PEOPLE BUY THE BEST! Mb. J. 0. Boao—Dear Sir: I bought the drat Davie Machine Hold by you over five years ago for my wife, who has given it a long and fair trial. I am well pleased with It. It never stives any rouble, and is as good as when drat bought. J. W. UOI.ICK. Wlnnsboro, S. C., Apr!. 1888. Mb. Uoag : You wish to Know wnat I have to say tn regard to the Davis Machine bought of you three years ago. I feel I can’t say too much In Its favor. I made about <80.08 within Ove months, at times running it so fast that the needle would r ;t perfectly hot from friction. I feel conhdent could not have done the same work with as much ease and so well with any other machine. No time lost in adjusting attachments. Tne lightest running machine I have ever treadled. Brother James and William's families are as much pleased with their Davis Mach.nes bought of you. I want no belter machine. As 1 said before, I don’t think too much can be sakl for the Dav.s Machine Kespectfully, Em.kn Stivenson. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mb. Boao : My machine gives me perfect satis - faction I find no fault with it. The attachments are so simple. I wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Feed. Respectfully. Mbs. R. Milluto. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. Boau: I bought a Davis Vertical Feed Hewing Machine from you four years ago. I am delighted with it. It never has given me any trouole, an l has never been the least out of order. It Is as good as when I first booght it. I can cheerfully recommend It. Respectfully, Mp . M. J. Kirkland. Monticello, April 30, 1 83. This Is to certify that I have been using a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for over iw > years, purchased of Mr. J. O. boag. I haven’t found it possessed of any fanlt—all the attachments are so simple. It never refuses to work, and is certainly the lightest running in the market. I consider It a first class machine. Very respectfully, Minnie M. Oakland, Fairfield county, 8. C. Wiixinuuar. Mr Boao : t am wen pieasea in every particular with the Davis Machine nought of you. I think It a first-Ciass machine In every reaped. Yon know you sold several machines of the same make to different members of our families, all of whom, as far as I know, are well pleased with them. Respectfully, Mrs. M. H. Moblet. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Thla latocnrtify w> have had In constant use the Davis Machine bought of you about i uree years ago. As we take in work, and have made the K lee of it several times over, we don’t want any tier machine. It is always ready to do any kind of work we nave to do. No pnckerlngor skipping stitches. We can only say we are well pleased and wish no better machine, Catherine Wvlie and Sister. Apfil 21,1883, I have no fault to find with my raach ne, and don’t want any better. I have m tde the price of it several times by taking In sewing. It Is always ready to do Its work. I think It a first-class ma chine. I feel I can t say too mnch for the Davis Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs. Thomas Smith. Fait field county, April, 1383. H gives me much Its of t Mb. .1. O. Boao—Dear Sir: pleasure to testify to the merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of you about five years ago. has been almost In con stant use ever since that time. I cannot see that It Is worn any, and has not cost me one cent for repairs since we nave had it Am well pleased and don’t wish tor any better. Yonrs tru'y, Robt. Cr vwford, Granite Quarry, near Wlnnsboro, S. C. We have used the Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for the last five years. We would not have any other make at any price. The machine has given us unbounded satisfaction. * Very respectfully, Mrs. W. K. Turner and DauohtekeI Fairfield county, s. C., Jan. Si, 1888. Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years ago, and It having given me perfect satisfaction tn everr respect as a family machine, both for heavy andllgbtsewing, and never needed the least re pair In any way, I can cheerfully recommend It to any one as a first-class machine In even' particu lar, and think It seeond to none. It Is one of the simplest machines made; ray children use It wltn all ease. The attachments are more easily ad justed aud it does a greater range of work by means of its Vertical Feed than any other-ma chine I have ever seen or used. Mrs. Thomas Owings. Wlnnsboro, Fairfield county, 8. C. We have had one of the Davis Machines about four years and have always found It ready to do all kinds of work we have had occasion to da Can’t see that the machine is worn any, and works as well as wnen new. Mrs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson’s Creek, Fairfield county, 3. C. My wife Is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chine bonght of yon. She would not take double wnat she gave for It. The machine has not been out of order since she had It, and ahe can do any kind of work on It, Very Respectfully, Jas. F. Free. Monticello, Fairfield county, 8. C. EVENING SONG. Sleep, my baby, sweetly sleep; • trod the Father thee will keep; Quickly now thy eyelids close, Softly, peacefully repose. All without, in winds of night, Sway the lilies tall and white; Far above thee, to and fro, Move the angels, white as snow. Come, ye angels, bright and blest, Soothe my little one to rest; Sway his heart and move his mind As the lilies in the wind. Sleep, my hahy, sweetly sleep; Qod the Father thee will keep; For his angels guards shall spread Bhelt’ring wings above thy bed. MISS BENCE’S BRITISH LOVER. The Davis Sewing Machine Is simplv a treas ure Mrs. J. a. goouwyn. Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, 1888. J,0 Boao, Bsa., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife has been using a Davis Sewing Machine constant ly for the past four years, and it baa never needed any repairs an i works Just as well as when first bought. She says It will do a greater range of practical work »nd do it easier and bet’er than any machine she has ever need. We cheerfully recommend it as a No. 1 family machine, “ 1 oar tru.y, Jas. q. Davis. Wlnnsboro, 8. C., Jan. S, 1883. I have always found my Davis Mo ot to work I have had oc- Mb. Boao : chine ready do all kinds oi •ciuiontodo. I c ianot see that the machine Is worn a particle and it works u wed as when new. Respectfn ly, Mrs. R. C. Goodino. Wlnnsboro, S. C., April, 1888, Mr. Boao : My wife hae been constantly using the Davis Machine bought of jon about nve years asm. I have never regretted boring it, aa it is always ready for any kind of famUy sewing, either heavy or light. It le never oat of fix or needing - repair*. Fairfield, S, O., March, 1888. It was on a lovely morning in May that a very dapper young gentleman stood leaning against a tree in the woods that then as now, topped the rock-hilled Palisades overlooking the lordly Hud son. He was attired in all the bravery of silk, and powdei and ruffles, and at his feet lay half a dozen volumes on which an army of ants were marching with a directness of purpose that caused great events in ant-land later on. From the pose of this belaced young gentleman and the care which he took to adjust the ruffles over his waistband as it dangled, the elbow leaning against the tree, it was pretty evident that he was waiting for one of that sex which has ruled the world ever since Eve ate that indigestible apple. He was a handsome young man to whom powder became handy, and like most handsome youths was perfectly aware of being a handsome youth. “She comes,” he said bravely. “Pish! I wish that my heart would not rap so against my ribs, and I know I am becom ing pale.” The rustling of bushes aud brambles announced an approach, and in acouplo of seconds a bright, fair-haired, blue eyed, rosy-cheecked, cherry-lipped maiden stepped up to where the ant* were marching over the books. “lam a little late, George ” she said, after half-a-dozen kisses had passed be tween them, “but I couldn’t help it; for a let of gentlemen came to see papa, and I had to see after refreshments for man and horse.” “Company at the manor, Jac?” “Not exactly company, George; but you see, papa is very determined against the iron rule of England, and 1 fear”— here she dropped her voice—“there is going to be rough work, for one of the gentlemen spoke of raising a regiment, and—” “What nonsense, Jac! We are very well off under British rule. There are always people ready to complain—al ways gnimbliug. Surely these gentry do not dream of independence ir" “And why not?” replied the girl al most haughtily, her short upper lip curl ing, her thin nost rils expanding. “Stuff and nonsense, Jac?” ‘ ‘I don’t see why we should submit—” “You little rebel,” he burst out, “I must stop such seditious language.” And he did so in that way which is usual to lovers. George L’Estrange was the son of Sir Henry L’Estrange, an English gentle man of birth, who had come over in the capacity of secretary to the governor. Having met a very beautiful young lady, whom he espoused contrary to the wishes of the old baronet in England, who was as proud as he was careless. Sir Henry settled in America where he made a small fortune in the cultivation of tobacco. A friend, to whom he had loaned a thousand pounds, having died and left a property on the Hudson in lie* of the cash, Sir Henry migrated to the “Manor,” where he resided in good style with his lady, one son, George, one daughter, Jacqueline, and a numerous routine of white and colored servants. Adjoining the manor was the property of Ephraim Bence, a worthy merchant of Gotham, between whose only child and George L’Estrange sprang up that mutual, feverish delight commonly known as love. Mr. Bence did not at first oppose George L’Estrange’s intimacy with his daughter, but of late anti-British feel ings bad become so intense that he politely informed the young man if he wished to avoid learning that which he could not stomach, he would cease his visits. Every day the great spirit of independ ence was engaged in upheaval and George was compelled to take the hint of the sturdy American. •“We must meet elsewhere, darling,” he said, and as the woods which separ ated the two domains, and every path way was known to the two lovers, a particular beech tree was destined to become their trysting place. Insensibly but by degrees, Jacqueline Bence felt the spirit of patriotism budd ing in her fr^ah young heart, and at length came a pang of sorrow that her George could take no part in the great work that was now so steadily progress ing. George called her “rebel.” She would retaliate by dubbing him “tyrant.” A few skirmishes and it was mutually resolved never to refer to the subject of independence, but somehow or other it would crop out, when George’s tone was one of insulting superiority, Jacqueline’s that of insulting determination. On these occasions they would vow never to see each other more, and the girl would return to her home, her eyes red with weeping, and her heart sorer than her eyes. Mr. Bunce or.3 day summoned Jac queline. “My child,” he said, “you are Ameri can bom and raised. So am I, so is your mother. Now your blood is too good, your heart is too honest, too honest to let you act the part of treachery to your country. You must give up this whipper- snapper Britisher who has just captained himself in order to drive us out of New York. I am too feeble to tight, but I can use pen, and tongue, and by Jove so long as a faculty is leit, I’ll cry ‘No surrender!”’ “I’ll see George,” she said. L’Estrange met her by appointment at »be old beech tree, "7t in silk and lace, but in the bravery of the English imi- form. “Why did you put this on today?” she asked. “Why not?” “To meet me?” “Certainly. ’’ “George L’Estrange”—and her eyes flashed, nostrils dilated—“this is an in sult.” He laughed. “An insult,” she slowly repeated, as she broke off a hazel switch, “and a cowardly one—so cowardly that I needs must notice it.” And so exasperated was she, that she struck him two swift blows across the face in rapid success ion. “Jac—the deuce,” he cried, as, blind with pain, he put his hands to his face. When he removed them she was gone. “A rebel’s daughter!” he hissed, be tween his clinched teeth. “So help me heaven I I’ll pay her off for that with interest 1” A few months later, a party of red coats, debouching from the woods that crowned the palisades, inarched to the Bence mansion and took possession of it Old Ephriam Bence was for defending Hie place to the bitter end; but the more J prudent counsel of wife, daughter, aud such relatives as were stopping with him prevailed and he witnessed the seizure of his home and belongings with a hatred that seemed almost unendur able. “So you are in command,” he cried, as George L’Estrange—now a major in the British service—swaggered into the appartment. “Oh, yes. Why should I not be?” “And you came to swagger here?” “A capital place to swagger it is too,” observed the major, as he cooly threw his legs across the arm of the sofa. “You are a white-livered, cowardly dog.” “You are a very irascible old gentle man.” “If it was not for this cursed gout I’d spit you like a lark?” roared the infu riated old man. “A very ancient figure of speech, my friend. Where’s your daughter?” “She is here!” cried a voice almost in his ear as Jacqueline, pale, every nerve quivering, stood before liim. In spite of his braggadocio, the major yielded. “Oh, you little rebel! you see, 1 come here in command,” he laughed. “Not to command a few men or a few women.” “We shall see Mistress Jacqueline.” “If you had the courage of a gentle man you would have flung your com mission in the teeth of your general ere stooping to set your foot across this threshold, save as a protector.” “Bah! Rebellion kills sentiment. I am not the long-eared biped that I used to be. You and I will have a good time together here, and—” “How dare you!” cried the girl, her eyes flashing, “attempt but so much as the familiarity of my given name, and I will resent it as an insult.” “Pshaw!” growled the major, as he moved toward a window, in order to conceal his mortification, for his lieu tenant, Staleybridge, was standing by. That night Major L’Estrange held high revel in the old oaken dining-room of the mansion. A captain of dragoons, Oldham, the lieutenant and an ensign banqueted with him. They drank heavily, as was the fash ion of that day, and after dinner com menced to toast their respective sweet hearts. When it came the major's turn lie hesitated. The lieutenant, who owed him a grudge, and loved him not, exclaimed: “Why not toast the beauty who is now under our roof?” “A beauty under the roof?” roared the dragoon. “Let’s trot her out!” L’Estrange stood up. “Here’s to Jacqueline, the prettiest rebel in all America!” and drained the goblet to the dregs. “We must see her!” bellowed the dra goon. “Send for her, major!” L’Estrange was three parts drunk, and a brutal idea flashed through hisbe- muddled brain—that now would be a good time to keep his vow in regard to mying Jacqueline Bence for that blow. “I’U send for her, by George!” he cried. To the servant who responded to the ring he gravely said: “I want to see Miss Bence for a moment on business of importance— importance mind!” The young girl at first refused point blank to appear, but ou a second and third pressing message she resolved to comply. How beautiful she looked as she stood glancing from one to another of those drunken debauches! “What is your business with me, Major L’Estrange!” she slowly and deliberately asked.' “Come here,” he exclaimed “I am here, sir! What- would you have of me?” “Do you recollect a blow you gave me in the woods here on a certain summer’s day?” he asked. “Perfectly well, sir.” “Then I mean to take twenty kisses for it,” and he sprang to his feet. , At that instant the door was burst open, and a body of Swift’s yeomanry, led by Joe vVilson, a near neighbor, to whom Bence had sent for succor, leaped into the room, making prisoners of the drunken revelers. An hour later and the gallant major, with his comrades in arms, were ou the inarch as prisoners of war, past the very beech tree where a few months previous ly he had received the cut across the face he so richly deserved. Jacqueline married Joe Wilson, and their descendants still flourisn in that picturesque spot known as Englewood. As for the L’Estranges, they were, to use a slang phiase, “clean wiped out.” Georgia’* Mountain Men. The Long*tone. The Northeastern corner of the State of Georgia, bordering upon South Caro lina and Tenne^be, is so different from the other portions of the State, both as to4he rugged and mountainous surface of the country aud the peculiar people who dwell among the charming little valleys, that it constitutes a little Switz erland in itself. It is here in these spurs of the Blue Bidge that the beautiful cascade, Toccoa Falls, roars over the precipice 180 feet and flows on through a strip.of country that remains unchang ed from the original home of the Chero kee Indian. And it is here among the picturesque hills,^ndvaljey8 that the revenue officers » continual series of scoutin(£g$jnpajgns against the illicit distillers ofCbrn whisky or “moun tain dew.” Hidden in the Shadows of the rp r " 1r !- tain in a country sparsely populated, the moonshiner’s double-roomed log house fronts a -mountain road that might more accurately be termed a trail. On a little branch or rivulet two or three hundred yards away he selects a desirable spot aud, without cleaning away the overhanging shrubbery, plants his boiler, worm and mash-tubs. With his distillery thus constructed he trans forms from fifty to two hundred bushels of corn ipto whisky, according to tlie patronage of neighbors of sympathetic iniquity. If he can be so fortunate as to evade the officers aud dispose of his “dew” without detection he thinks he has only exercised his right as an Amer ican citizen. If he is captured and his tempting fire-water destroyed he feels that he has been outraged and curses the laws that destroy his freedom of action in disposing of his own property. I asked one of these mountain men why it was they persisted in distilling their coni, ami lie, replied, “Darn it, be cause that’s the only way to git rid of it, I live fifty miles from a railroad market, over a mountain road, and it's worth the Qoro to haul it tliar.” “Can’t you sell it nearer home?” “ Yes, for about thirty cents a bushel. ’ ’ “But you haul your whisky over these rough roads to market: don’t you?” “Yes; biit see here, stranger,you ain’t seed the pint. I can haul a hundred dollars’ worth of whisky at a load, but it pulls me like Old Harry to haul ten dollars’ worth of corn. See?” While these mountain men insist that their peculiar surroundings justify them in smuggling whisky and avoiding the payment of tax which cuts off the profit, the frequent capture of the moonshiners and the severe penalties inflicted in case of conviction has greatly reduced the number within the past few years, and it is only a question of time when they will hare entirely bandoned the perilc- AA»S fcS One of these meh told me yesterday his experience with revenu officers up in Habersham county last February: “One morning,” he said, “I took my gun and went over to whar two neigh bors were riimiin’ a still down on a branch behind the mountain. When I went into the still-house and set my gun down at the door, I hadn’t been thar ten minutes before two men jumped from behind a clump of bushes; one of ’em grabbed my gun and the other told us we were his prisenars. I saw he had us. so we didn’t try to get away. When I told him I didn’t have nothing to do with the still, he let me off, but he broke the boiler, poured out the whisky and carried the two stillers off to Atlanta and made ’em give bond, but I ain’t never got my gun back yit.” “Why are yon here at the trial to day?” “Cause 1 was subpoened to appear as a witness, and I had to travel ’bout for ty miles to get to tlie railroad. This is the first time I ever was in Atlanta, and I want to get away from this blasted court bad.” “Are there many moousbiners up there?” “Oodles of ’em. Them people will make whisky on tlie sly, spite of Satan. They raise plenty of corn and wheat, but no cotton, aud our only chance to make a little cash is to make two or three barrels of whisky and haul it over in South Carolina and sell it or keep it for the country stores.” “Don’t you think they will quit when a few more get sent to jail for three or four months in failure to pay the fine.” “Ah, I dunno. Blamed if I ain’t seed their wives stillin’ while their hus bands were in jail.” A good portion of the prisoner* who are brought to Atlanta are cleared by reason of insufficient evidence. Others less fortunate, but usually not more guilty, are sent up for three months or fined a hundred dollars. If tlie offence is repeated the sentence is imprisonment n the goverment prisons. While as a rule tlie revenue officers make their arrests with little difficulty after having dieoovered the prey, it sometimes happens tliat moonshiners iiave noticed their movements and stand ready to resist. In one instance last winter a skirmish occurred in which an officer was wounded and a moonshiner, named Hicks, was killed. The cases In the parish of St. Mabyn, in East Cornwall, England, and on the high road from Bodmin to Camelford, is a group of houses (one of them yet a smith’s shop) known by the name of Longstone. The curious traveler pass ing by inquires the raison d'etre of such a name, for there is no tall mono lith, such as are not uncommon in Cornwall, to be seen near it. The reason is thus given: In lack of rec ords, I may say “in the days of King Arthur there lived in Cornwall” a smith. This smith was a keen fellow, who made and mended tlie plows and harrow’s, shod the horses of his neigh- ■tors, and was generally serviceable. He had also great skill in farriery and in the general management and cure of sick cattle. He could also extract foo- stubbomest tooth, even if the jaw re sisted 'aim sonis gyratiouij around the anvil were required. There »eeuis ever to have been iii blood between devil and smith, teste Dunstau and others, and so it was be tween the fiend and the smith-farrier- deutist of St. Mabyn. At night there were many and fierce tiisputes between them in the fimithy. The smith, as the rustics tell, always got the advantage of his adversary, and gave him better than he brought. This success, kow- ever, only fretteil old Nick and spurred him on to further encounter. What the exact matter of controversy on this particular occasion was is not remem bered, but it was agreed to settle it by some wager, some trial of strength and skill. A two-acre field was near, and the smith challenged the devil to the reaping of each his acre in the shortest time. The match came off, and the devil was beaten; for the smitli had beforehand stealthily stuck here and there over his opponent’s acre some harrow tines or teeth. The two started well, but soon the strong swing of the fiend’s scythe was being brought up frequently by some obstruction, and as frequently required the whetstone. The dexterous and agile smith went on smoothly with his acre,and was soon unmistakably gaining. The devil, enraged at his certain dis comfiture, hurled his whetstone at his rival and fiew off. The whetstone, thrown with great violence after sundry whirls in the air, fell upright into tlie soil to a great depth ? and there re mained a witness agamt the evil one for ages. The devil avoided the neigh borhood while it stood. In an evil hour tlie farmer at Treblethick near set his heart upon tlie Longstone, for there were gate posts and door posts to be had out of it, and he threw it down. Tliat night the enemy returned, and has haunted the neighborhood ever Unole Gordon’* Parcel. Near one of our Atlantic seaports there resides an old whaling captain •commonly known as Uncle Gurdon. To keep from getting rusty he made his home on the river bank, where he could keep a boat and fish or paddle about as be liked. The place was about five miles from the city, and as occasion required Uncle Gurdon and his wife would journey townward for the purpose of shopping. Reaching the city, the horse and wagon would be left at the water trough on the Parade and each would go in different direc tions, canying their, bundles t» this common receptacle, the first through waiting for the other. On one of these sliopping^exeursions Uncle Gurdon inaijfr several trips toiJie vyagon, tinefirtg each time tliat additions had been made to the store of bundles—a sign that his wife was busy. Having completed his purchases, he unhitched his horse, and the ferrylioat having arrived, climbed into tlie wagon and drove on board. While crossing the river one of his acquaintances stepped up and asked how lie w;is getting on. “Well, I’m getting ou nicely, but I’m bothered just now. “Why, has anything gone wrong?” “No, nothing special; but I came down to do some shopping, and I’ve forgotten a parcel I was to get,” and the old gentleman scratched his head in a perplexed manner. “Well, I wouldn’t worry. You will think of it next time,” said the neigh bor; and tlie boat having reached the landing, uncle Gurdon drove ashore aud went on toward home. When nearly’half way there he was met by another friend, who stopi>ed to have a chat. “How do you do to-day, Uncle Gur don?” he asked. “Oh, nicely, nicely; though I’m ^ bit worried just now.” “Worried? What about?” “Well, you see, I’ve been to town shopping, and there’s a pared of some kind that I’ve forgotten. I can’t think what it is, and it bothers me,” “Oh, never mind itl You will re collect what it is before - yon go again. By-the-way, Uncle Gurdon, how is your wife?” “Jerusalem!” cried Uncle Gurdon, slapping his knee with great energy. “It’s my wife tliat I’ve forgotten! She went to town with me to do some shopping, aud 1 was to wait for her. ’ And Uncle Gurdon turned around, and went back to the ferry for the par cel that he had left behind. A Trader In Wild Animal*. Six boxes of snakes were carted to the Central Park Menagerie recently. Mr. Carl Hagenbeck. the owner, of Ham - burg, Germany, arrived on the Bremen steamer Elbe. He is one of the largest dealers in wild animals in the world, and his zoological garden in Hamburg is one of the chief attractions of that city, and he says that it has contained at one time or another a grater variety of animals than any other one building since the days of Noah’s ark. Mr. Hagenbeck intends to stop in this coun try only a fortnight. He will visit Philadelphia, Washington, Cliicago, St. Louis,Cincinnati, Buffalo and Niagara Falls, see the vanous shows on exhibi tion along the route, sell them what they want, and buy from them what. do not need, for ho rejjjv Kpo.’it’ ? mentfgSrio^NlAfe!: as u.e jaugieii,«ii.i forests to supply his zoological broker's office with material. He said to a re porter yesterday afternoon, in one of the •Armor Irvf+c rS tH* 5 mnaonm Tzr\\ara ho had retired to avoid the crowd. “If you think tills is a laige menagerie I should like to have you see mine. I have 80,000 square feet iu my garden and several strong stone buildings all connected with each other. In one I keep the carniv orous animals in heavy iron cages. Sometimes I have twenty lions there at one time. In another I have my ele phants, ostriches, dromedaries and ante lopes. In another I keep my reptiles— snakes, alligators and tlie like. In the garden outside this building 1 have What Sargary can do. Antic* of a Nevada Spouting Spring. When a farmer farms rightly his soil is constantly growing better, his pas tures thicker his fields cleaner, his wife better-looking and ins own heart more tender. Uxgbouxd grain, should be led to fowls at night, because it is alo wlj < geited, and fills up the long interval be tween sunset and morning better than soft food. recently oil trial before Judge McCoy, in the United States District Court at Atlanta, were largely those of illicit dis tillers and the District Attorney,Emory Speer, who will be remembered as the dashing young Congressman who for two terms represented the Independent party of Georgia, did active service for the goverment in prosecuting liis former constituents. The moonshiner in court and the witnesses who are summoned from his county present an interesting scene in the court room, which is ai ways occupied by spectators watching the processes and hearing their testi mony. They all dress alike and the favorite costume is a suit of browu jeans breeches stuffed in high-topjied boots, and a wide-brimmed hat resting upon a mass of unshingled hair. They never wear a detached collar or cravat. W hen on the stand they speak boldly and seem to great delight in annoying the at torney by giving evasive answers,sharp ened with that peculiar spices of wit characteristic of the‘“Mountain Hoos- ier.” The examination of witnesses shows that in nearly every instauje the amount of whisky involved is a few gai uins, sometimes a jug full. At times the springs at Steamboat de velop geysers of a grand character. In the spring of 18(»0 there was at Steam boat a spring that spouted once in about eight hours. This spring hail an open ing about three feet iu diameter anil some nine feet deep. It looked like a small well. When quiet the bottom seemed to be dry sand. Not a drop of water was to be seen. An hour or two before the spouting time of the spring came on a commotion begjan to be seen. rumbling was heard in the depths, i;he ground for thirty feet above the ca vity began shaking, and then boiling water, forming and white as milk, came up through the sand and urged 1,0ward the top of the well-like hole. It would foam up to within two feet of he top; then iu an instant there would ie a back draft or suction, and the wa- ;er would all recede aud pass out of sight through the sand. In half a minute, however, it would return and surge up to near tlie surface of the ground. After three or four such up ward charges there would be a tremend ous rumbling and shaking of the earth, wnen, in an instant, a column of water three feet in diameter would be spouted fifty feet into tlie air. With the water wliich looked white as milk as it shot up—came a vast deal of steam, which, bursting out at the head of the column of water, rolled away in volumes that hid all the landscape in front. Appar ently it was the y.ast amount of pent-up steam that gave the column of water its white apjiearauce. After spouting steadily for an hour, the stream of wa ter gradually lowered and became thin, due mlid, which did not rise five feet above the surface. In a few minutes the flow of mud ceased, and then the spring became dry and dead. This spouting spring presently, through one of its grand efforts, burst through into an adjoining spring that had a large crevice or cavity, and at once it ceased to spout—it had found vent. After- warel there broke out a spring some three inches in diameter, which spouted every three hours, throwing a column of water some sixty feet into the air. This was in 1863. In a short time, however, this found some side vent or cavity and ceased to spout. The wells or holes that newly break out are, as a rule, the ones that spout. CooKlng Wine*. A distinguished Frenchman, M Scholl, breakfasting at home recently, says, 1 tasted a dish of stewed kidneys which I shall not soon forget. At the third mouthful 1 stopjied. My palate and lips were on tire. “What have you put into this sauce?” I asked my cook. “Sir, as I liad not the key of tlie cellar, I bought a bottle of Ctrddis at the gro cer’s for Ifr. 60c.” “Is there any left?” “Yes, about half,” “Bring me that Chablis?” “I poured a spoonful into my glass,” continuesM. Scholl, “to taste this new sort of wine. It had no taste. There was ho trace even of raisins, nor of brandy. But I burned my tongue with it, and tliat horribly. I had the stuff analyzed by a chemist. It was merely water mixed with sulphuric acid. The maker had not even gone to the expense of a bunch of raisins or a few drop* of alcohol. This compostion is sold openly at 1 fr. 30c. a bottle, under the name of Chablis superiew," What must inferior Chablis he? The London Lancet, in publishing its record of the progress of medicine in its many departments during the last year, gave some of the more prominent points connected with surgery. Some of the operations seem almost miracu- ous, and were regarded as impossible n-evious to actual experiment. No region of the body is now considered beyond the scope of surgery. Its most marked triumphs relate te the internal organs and cavities. What has rendered the operations comparatively safe is the use of antisep- uics—fluids that prevent putrefaction in he wounds. Hitherto carbolic acid las been the chief agent used. But this proved more or less dangerous— sometimes fatally so—in other direc tions. A much safer and equally effec tive substitute has been found in what s called eucalyptol, which is obtained from the eucalyptus tree. Abscesses of the liver have been freely and successfully cut into and drained. Large parts of the stomach Iiave beeu cut out, including even the pylorus, which is the more highly organized part of the stomach tliat shuts in the food until digestion is carried to a certain extent, and then opens and pours it into the intestines. Entrances have been made through tlie wells of the stomach for the regular introduction of food in cases where the sosopliagus (gullet) has l)een closed by disease. Two pieces embracing the entire cir cumference, tlie one about three inches in length, the other five, iiave been cut out from the large intestine—the colon. In.all such cases tlie divided parts are brought together and sewed, the stitches becoming soon absorbed after the heal ing is complete. Considerable progress has been made towards ascertaining the exact spot where the brain and nervous system may tie affected, thus facilitating the reaching of diseaae. It has been found that bone can be transplanted and aid iu the formation of new bone; aud more wonderful still, tliat sponge can be grafted into large wounds, and be a porous support for the granulations (tlie new flesh par ticles) while they are filling the cavities. The sponge is believed to be gradually absorbed. cages under cover, where I keep my birds and little animal*. I have twenty- four ostriches there now, four drome daries, and a great variety of every other kind of animals and birds. “You think I am rather young to have so extensive a business? 1 am 38 years old, aud began when I was 15. My father was a large ttsli dealer. The fisherman used to catch seals alive and bring them to my father. Once some one sold him a polar bear, which he exhibited. That is how he came to look into tlie business. In 1864, about eleven years after the importation of wild animals into Europe for show pur poses* was attempted, an Italian named Casanova brought over a large stock of animals. He couldn’t sell them aud couldn’t make much money out of ex hibiting them. Seeing something iu the business, my father and I made a , contract with Casanova to return to Africa and have the animals captured, and we would pay him so much per head. That is the way it started. In 1870 Casanova and another Italian named Migolotte. both animal agents, had ac cumulated large stocks and got into a quarrel. 1 went to Algiers and bought them both out. I tbtek tliat was the largest shipment ot amimrits ever made. Among others it contained fifteen giraf- tes, live elephants, an Arncan riiino- Mounting a Carnal. ¥ ,• a (ft -I ceros, six lions, seven leopards, thirty hyenas, twenty boxes of monkeys and twelve of birds, aud seventy-two Abys sinian goats to furnish milk for the young animals. The old animals are killed when they cannot be taken alive without loss of human life, and the young one, if there are any, are se cured, aud die little motherless brutes had to be fed on goat’s milk. I have agents in Nubia, on the Somale coast, in Ceylon, at the Magellan straits iu South America, in British America, and two agents in Central India. When a menagarie is sold out I buy the entire stock. I have bought and sold the same animals as many as five times. I send my agents out into the forests to cap ture the animals. I furnish them with money to remain out six months or longer, if necessary. I send my Nubia meu out in September and they return iu July. They hire a large number of hamrans, or native hunters, who beat the jungles and do the manual labor of securing the prizes. They seek a suit able locality, where they build a large corral. They live in this and keep the animals there until they are ready to return to the coast. The return trip is about the hardest part of the expedition. It takes nearly two months, and the hot sands of the Nubian Desert Lav j to be crossed. Tue young animals have to be carried on camels, aud the ostriches and, large animals have to be led or carried. It requires a host of camels to follow the caravan and carry the provisions. When our party omes back it usually numbers ’200 men, aud twice that num ber of beasts of prey and burden. From the N ubian Desert they go to Cassala, which is the headquarters of visitors in that reigon. Thence they go to the Red Sea and the Suez Canal, where the ani mals and necessary attendants are ship ped directly to Hamburg. From there I distribute them all over the world. 1 send Louisiana alligators to New York, African elephants to India and llamas to Brazil. We capture our snakes by building fires in the rocks where they hide, and when they come out, attract ed by the flames, they are caught in nets. “If you will come down into the en gine-room I will show you the largest snakes you ever saw. I had twenty- four boxes sent to America, containing 276. I have sold a number. Ten boxes went to Philadelphia. These boxes hold huge pythons, which were taken at Sundabuuts, near Calcutta. ” In the engine-room there were two large dry goods boxes and a number of visitors. Mr. Hugenbeck, armed with a stout cudgel and a piece of carpet, raised the lid of the larger box. There were five of the largest snakes ever brought to America. The largest was twenty teet long and seven inches through. They writhed around the box. coiling them selves into innumerabie hard and double Mounting a camel is not difficult, but it has some sweet surprises for the no vice. The camel lies upon the ground with all his legs shut up uuder him like a jack-knife. You seat yourself iu the broad saddle, and cross your legs in front of the pommel. Before you are ready something like a private earth quake starts under you. The camel raises his hind quarters suddenly, and throws you upon his neck, and before you recover from that he straightens up his knees and gives you a jerk over his kn "£ ^ discounted the alcoholic ser unH vl.il* vm. nnt at all**rtam ^ roaliat.Q. effect. An inquisitive observer stuck his head over the box mark for tail; and while you are not at all certain what has happened, he begins to move off with that dislocated walk which sets you into a see-saw motion, weaving backwards and forwards in the capa cious saddle. Not having a hinged back fit for this movements you lash the beast with your koorbash to make him change his gait. He is not loath to do it, and at once starts into a lively i with rakea and IJocaT and viewed trot, which sends you up a foot into the! box from a aafe distance. 1 air at every step, bolts you from side 8aake8 ^ not been fed for to side, drives your back bone into your mon tbs brain, and makes castanets of your teeth. Capital exercise I W ben you have enough of it you pull up aud humbly inquire what is the heathen method of riding a and preseuted a fine mark for tlie big snake, who would have certainly disfig ured his countenance if it Lad not beeu hampered by its companions. It had to be pounded on the head with a slick be- ! fore it would retire, and the timid mem bers of the company armed themselves ' ■ - - ' wnai is me ^dromedary. Jr possible, have the bo arranged that the ’ be p'anted in the order ^fipen, * . *... vv# U' v'vV d