The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, July 10, 1883, Image 1
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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION.
WINNSBORO. S. 0.. JULY 10. 1883.
ESTABLISHED 1848
A DAY-DREAM.
In a long-forgott«n packet-,
Tied up with a silken band,
I found it: only a letter
Traced in a girlish hand.
I read it over and over,
Ah, me! as I did before
In the days that were full of sunlight-
The days that are no more.
I dreamed of a golden-Summer,
Far back in a Joyous time,
When every day was a poem,
And every hour a rhyme;
There came a fragrance of roses
And lilacs and mignonette,
And a sound of sylvan music,
And the eyes that are with me yet.
A flood of purple sunset,
In scintillant glory came,
Till the deep old forest kindled,
And burned like a fluid of flame.
There came a girlish figure,
With billows of floating hair,
And she bent her face above me—
An angel over my chair! *
I saw it all In a moment,
While I held the crumpled sheet;
And then, as the vision faded,
The long, gray, city street,
With its hatetul rush and clamor,
Came back to my weary eyes,
Ah, still the fruitless struggle!
Ah, still the worthless prize!
IN MID-AIR.
“My dear Fred, will you not give up
this hazardous life?”
“Yes, Annie, when this season is
over I will abandon it forever, and we
will get married and settle down.”
The young girl blushed deeply at the
words of her lover, but she did not
resist the arm that was thrown around
her waist, and drew her closer to him,
or the kiss that followed. In fact, she
was very proud of his handsome face
and manly form, but his dangerous
profession—that of a trapezist—made
her tremble for fear of accidents, and
she continued to plead that it should be
given up.
“You have now some money, Fred—
I a little, am an orphan as well as your
self, and we are all in the w'orld to each
other.”
“Indeed we are, Annie; but hard
fortune threw me into the life I am
leading. It was a hard school I was
trained in. I know little else, and
after so many years of toil it would be
almost foolish if I neglected the golden
opportunity before I renounced it alto
gether.
“I believe you love it almost as well
as you do me,” she replied with a smile.
“Not one thousandth part as w T ell!
And yet I must own there is something
attractive to me in the breathless swing
—the hanging from the dizzy height—
the daring leap in mid-air that makes
the heart of every looker-on stand
still.”
“And mine among the number,” with
a heavy* sigh. • ~ *
“Have no fear, darling. Practice
has made me so perfect that there is
not the slightest danger.”
“Danger there always is, Fred.”
“I can see none.”
“You have to depend very much
upon others, do you not?”
“Certainly.”
“And failure upon their part, care
lessness—the breaking of a rope might
be fatal.”
He could not deny it, though he made
light of it, quieted her fears as best he
could, and turned the conversation into
another channel—the one that is near
est and dearest to young hearts.
For a year they had been acknowl
edged lovers, and there was no one to
say them nay. He had striven to edu
cate himself, and rise superior to iron
fortune—had succeeded as men of reso
lute will ever do—had been frugal and
saving, with the determination of some
day turning his back upon tent, span
gles and sawdust, and taking the place
in society to which he felt he had a
right.
And so it w'as in a great measure with
the girl who had become very dear to
him and done much to strengthen his
good intentions, to keep him from wan
dering into the paths that have been
* the ruin of so many whom the w'orld
applauded to the echo for a time, only
to forget as new faces came—who
floated upon the topmost waves of suc
cess, to be the more certainly wrecked
upon the dangerous rocks and dragged
to the bottom. ,
She, like himself, had been early-
orphaned and knew something of the
hard lot of being brought up by distant
relatives—begrudged the little food she
ate, and made to toil beyond her
strength. But this was over now r . and
her slender lingers made her needle fly
as she thought of the future.
And that future they talked of long
and earnestly, laid their plans and made
themselves supremely happy in what
was to be. There was no single cloud
save that of fear entertained by the girl
for the safety of her lover, and again
and again it forced itself upon her
mind, and found utterance from her
lips. *
“It is but a few short months,” he
replied, “before the tenting season will
be at an end, and I am free. ' Now I
am bound by a contract the most lucra:
tive I have ever made, and to break it
would be ruinous. There is little to
be feared, my darling. All will go
well. Winter will soon come, and
then good-bye to this wandering life.”
“But only think of how much time
will elapse before I see you again. If
I could only be with you, it would not
be so bad. But I fear—fear that I
shall never see you again.”
It was the old story of tears, and
comforting and promises to be faithful;
Hrrd ^CT’”’ 0 indeed passed be ore the-;
again saw each other’s faces. But, as
he had -predicted, all had gone well.
Fame as well as money had been gained
by the young and daring trapezist. He
stood at the very head of -his desperate
profession, and the hearts of women
stood still and strong men held their
breath when he hung high in mid-air,
and leaped—a wonderful distance—from
one swinging bar to another. Had it
been 'in the olden days of Rome they
would have crowned him with the vic
tor’s laurels, borne him upon their
shoulders, made him rich in gold, and
hailed him as King of Athletes.
And now the last night^ame that he
was to appear before the public—the
very last night of the season, and that
of his benefit. Well might he be
proud of it Well might he look long
ingly for it, for the substantial reward
it would bring. A favorite with all,
volunteers had been far more numerous
than was usual, and the management
more liberal. A whisper had reached
them that he thought of leaving, and
they were doing their utmost to bind
him so as to secure him for another
season.
He had left Annie early to make the
necessary preparations—but met her
again as soon as he dressed—dressed in
the most magnificent garments he had
ever worn and her gift—the work of
her own hands—and drawing aside as
much as possible they talked gayly, much
more than was customary for her to do,
for she appeared to have forgotten all
fear for his safety.
“I feel, darling,” she whispered,
“that to-night is to be the grandest
triumph of your life.”
“And the last.”
“The last!” appeared to be echoed by
a stem voice, and they turned hastily
around, but could discover no one near,
and believing their ears had deceived
them, she continued:
“How I shall glory in your success,
Fred.”
“And I in outdoing myself for your
dear sake.”
“Besides, it is so much pleasure for
one to know that it is for the last
time.”
“The very last!” was whispered to
their ears as if by the lips of the wind
that found its way through the little
rents in the canvas.
Both started more fitfully than they
had done before, and released the hand
they had been pressing.
A horse—one of the finest in the stud
—had been led out and was standing
near the curtain that concealed the
ring and spectators, ready to make a
dashing entree. By its side, but the
opposite one to them, a woman was
standing, black haired, brunette in
complexion, with a tall, supple figure,
and eyes that flashed with almost more
than human brightness. For a single
instant Annie caught the expression of
her face, and saw the line of sharp,
white teeth that broke the intense red
of the full lips, and drawing back with
a shudder she could not repress, asked:
“Who is that, Fred.”
“She is known by the name of the
‘Cuban Queen’—is the best woman
rider I ever saw—brave, fearless and
dashing.”
“Has she been with you all summer?”
“Yes; but why? Are you jealous?”
“No, but—” and she blushed under
his earnest glances.
“Well,” he continued with a smile,
“you might have had reason if you had
been with us. Certainly I might have
had her for a wife, had I but given her
the slightest encouragement.
“Does she love you?” and the voice
of the girl was as low and sad as the
beating of the waves upon the reaches
of the silver sand.
“I believe she would have done so if
I would have let her. But there was
no danger of that, darling.” and he
called her attention to the beauty of the
horse.
The Cubaness had also been engaged
in conversation, though a very brief
one—only consisting in asking one of
the riders if that was the girl the trape
zist was to marry, and receiving an
affirmative answer. Then she hid her
face^-one famed for its tragical beauty,
but now almost devilish with the spasm
of jealous rage that distorted it—for a
moment in the flaring mane of her
steed, conquered her emotion with a
powerful effort, wreathed her lips into
the studied smile of the artist, and
stepping toward Fred, said in a skill
fully modulated voice:
“Let me congratulate you in advance
upon the success of your benefit. ”
“And let me thank you for the kind
ness you have shown in the matter.”
He would have introduced her to
Annie, bftt the girl had turned away,
and so he continued:
“You know that this night ends my
connection With the company. Be
assured, however, that if, in the future,
I can do anything to promote your suc
cess or happiness I will do so, and hoper
you will feel free to call upon me.”
“You are to be married?” she asked,
without even a word of thanks.
“Yes. Will you not come aud dance
at my wedding?”
“Certainly—when you are married.”
He did not notice the emphasis upon
the latter part of the sentence—had no
time to do so, for even as they were
uttered the bell summoned the fair
rider, and she leaped, unassisted, upon
her horse aud dashed into the arena.
Then ha called Annie again to him,
and they took a place where they could
see her speeding around the Circle,
while the air rang with plaudits. And
well it might; such matchless riding
had never before been seen—probably
never would be again—and the horse'
she rode, goaded far beyond its trained
and regular pace, ran and leaped as if
entirely unbroken.
“The devil is in that woman to
night,” said one groom to another.
“Yes, and in the horse, too. I never
knew her to ride with a spur before. ”
“A spur!” was echoed in astonish
ment.
“Yes, I saw her get one of the ring
master, and that she is using it you
can tell by the fiery leaps of the horse.
He never would stand such a thing, and
if he doesn’t break her neck lie will
his own. By heaven! just look at her
face. Her exes are dashing like balls
of fire and her teeth are set hard. I
believe she is either drunk or crazy.”
‘ Pshaw r ! it is only her hot Spanish
blood. Something lias gone wrong,
you may depend. But if she makes
thet leap over the gaiters with the
horse running at that mad rate she is
gone. No! She is safe. I never saw
anything to match it in all my life.”
She was indeed safe, though siie had
taken desperate chances sufficient to
break down a dozen necks, aud as she
sprang lightly from her foaming horse
a flash of triumph shot from her black
eyes, and scornfully disdaining the
bouquets that had been flung at her
feet, she rapidly disappeared, leaving
the clown to appropriate and make
merry over them.
Another act or two (very tame after
the last) and the king of the trapeze—
as the Cuban was the queen of the
arena—was called to take his place.
With a single word to the girl he loved,
he sprang into the sawdust, circle, and
bowed low to the storm of applause—
one wild enough to have turned a less
steady head. But coolly, perfectly
collected, he cast his eyes over the vast
assembly, and a bright light came to
them, and a truer smile to his lips, as
he saw r where his Annie was seated,
looking at him with a not to be con
cealed pride.
He braced his muscles, drew up his
head, ran his* fingers lightly up through
his curling chestnut hair, aud thanked
all for their presence. The dress he
wore showed his finely knit figure to
the greatest advantage, and flashed
with every movement as if covered
with stars and diamond dust. His face
w as glowing with health and hope, and
many were the eyes of admiration that
girlhood turned toward him »a he
sw'ung lightly from bar to bar until he
had reached the topmost one as easily,
apparently, as a bird would have flown.
Feat after feat of the most dangerous
character (so it appeared to the unini
tiated) w'as performed and then came
the crowding and final one. That it
required a clear head, great precision
and calculation, cool nerves and im
mense strength was evident to all from
the minuteness and carefulness of the
preparation.
Th8 king of the trapeze stood leaning
against the centre-pole and seemingly
watching the proceedings, wnile he re
gained his somew'hat overtasked breath,
in reality more intent upon .the beaming
and anxious face of his love than any
thing else.
“The feat now about to be per
formed,” said the master of ceremonies
in explanation, and to do away with
something of the tedium of waiting,
“is one that has never been attempted
by any other man, and upon this occa
sion the leap W'ill be greater than ever
before. But as it is perilous,-beyond
all description, I must beg the most
perfect silence.”
A net was about to be stretched so as
to save the performer in case of falling;
but he motioned that it should uot be
done, saying, so as to be heard distinctly
by all:
“There is no use of that. I will—
desire to make the jump without it—
make one that will be long remem
bered.”
Those who understand the matter
the best were the most thrilled by the
words, and the same groom who had
given vent to his feelings with regard
to the dashing Cuban, whispered to his
comrade:
“I believe they have all gone mad.
Heaven give safety, but I wouldn’t
venture (even if I could do it as w ell as
he) for the whole concern.”
“Is all ready?” asked Fred, as he ran
his eyes swiftly over the slender cords
and bars that W’ere to be to him as the
spinnings of fate.
“Rreadyl”
He kissed his fingers - apparently to
the audience, but in reality to the girl
he loved, seized a rope, climbed to the
first bar—then another and another
until he reached the list, cut the others
loose' and performed' all the various
acts he had before gone through with
from that dizzy height, and with as
much certainty and seeming as careless
as if but a foot from the ground in
place of nearly a hundred.
Then he rested, and braced himself
for the final one—the daring, thrilling,
unmatched leap in mid-air, from one
swinging trapeze to another, and failing
to catch which at the proper instant
aud cling to it was death.
Backward and forward he swung,
while a breathless silence reigned,
prepared himself for the desperate feat,
fixed his eyes upon the treacherous bar
to which he must spring and. fasten
upon, shot through the air almost like
a flash of light, clutched it safely with
his hands, w'as struggling to gain a
seat as the wild buzzas that could no
longer be controlled burst from every
lip, and then the supporters gave way,
and, with a mighty crash, he fell back-
w'ard to the ground!
Women shrieked and fainted in ter
ror, men were awe-stricken and incapa
ble of action; but even in that swift
descent was heard above all the cry of
“Anniel”
Carried from the ring with the form
of the girl he loved wildly clinging to
him, instant aid was obtained, but
though no bones were broken, it was
the opinion of the physicians that his
recovery was doubtful, the jar had been
so great aud there might be internal
injuries.
The sports of the ring had ceased,
the audience been‘dismissed, but did
not stir. Sorrowfully they waited and
whispered with white lips, for some
final tidings, something beyond mere
uncertainty.
The company were gathered around
the Injured man with tearful eyes, and
the grief of the girl would have melted
the heart of stone. And silently there
stood the fair Cuban, wringing her
hands, and with the muscles of her
face working tempestuously. But sho
was' a woman, would naturally feel
more deeply than men, and nothing
was thought of it.
Meanwhile, even as the white-winged
angel of life and the black-winged one
of death were battling for their prey,
an investigation was being made into
the cause of the accident by those
whose duty it was to see that all was
safe, and upon whom the blame would
fall the most heavily.
Holies and. bars w'ere found ato be
intact. It was the iron rings that had
broken, and wondering at this, they
stood with them in their hands, when
one of the physicians, (and by chance a
chemist) who was in attendance came
along; and had his attention called to
the matter.
“This fatal fall,” he said, after even
the most casual observation, “has not
been the result of accident, but of pre
meditated malice upon the part of some
enemy. The iron rings have been
honeycombed, and rendered as brittle
as glass by some powerful acids, then
rubbed over with varnish to hide it
from detection. Whoever did the deed
had murder in their soul.”
At that instant came the murmur
that the injured man had aroused from
his stupor; had spoken, that there was
no longer any doubt of his recovery.
“Thank trod!” burst from the lips of
all.
Even the pallid, ghastly face of the
Cuban Queen flushed, and she turned
away when the other news—the treach
ery with regard to the rings—came
to her ears, and hastily freeing herself
from the press was lost to sight.
But almost instantly the double re
port of a pistol w'as heard, and rushing
in the direction of the sound they
found that she had shot her iiorse and
then herself, and was lying gasping
for breath, and with the life-blood
swiftly flowing from a wound in her
side. • <
“Beyond all help,” watf,
decision of the physicflgE
any one tell the ineauingofYhis f ’
“I loved him; he would have married
another. I tried to killed him—failed,
and Oh! God, I—”
They were the last words of the
beautiful and passionate woman, but
told the entire story, few as they were—
was as the condensation of an entire
volume. .
From the admiring gaze of the pub
lic disappeared two stars upon the
same night. One we can follow to a
home of light, love and happiness.
And the other? .
Oi*en-Alr Selene*.
Sing Sing.
The present cells, at Sing Sing, such
as they are, are much below the stan
dard of those in other state prisons of
more modem and improved construc
tion. The visitor who is used to believ
ing large and airy bedrooms, with un-
inqieded ventilation, necessary to health
aud well-being, would recoil on glanc
ing for the first time into a convict’s
cell at Sing Sing. Entering by a low
browed and narrow door you come into
a space, for it cannot be called a room,
only feet wide. Most ol this small
breadth of space is occupied by the bed,
w'hich extends from end to end of the
cell, and is fixed up to (die wall during
the daytime. Imagine, in addition, a
not over high ceiling, and you have
some idea of a cell at Sing Sing. A
bucket and a few washing utensils com
plete the furnishings of the cell, though
some of the convicts have ornamented
then- “dens” with pictures and other
articles. The small width of the cells
is the most obvious defect in the inter
ior construction of the prison. For this
as in other cases, no one now connected
with Sing Sing is to, blame. The
present management, as well as those
connected w'itfi every other good prison
in the land, will admit that 3 feet 0 in
ches is not sufficient width for a cell oc
cupied night afterlight bv a|humau be
ing, and in many cases bk two. Passing
along the conidora, looking into the
small open doorways, as the£ stretch
before and behind in rows of 100 each,
the visitor imagines he is gazing into a
number of interstices or right-angled
hole^, cut into this erect mass of stone
by some huge mach ne at regular inter
vals and of uniform size. That they are
bedrooms can hardly be realized. The
convicts are marched back to their cells
every evening after supper and are al
lowed lights by which to read until
y o’clock, when “lights out” is the
order, and sleep is supposed to super
vene. Keepers patrol the corridors all
night. At 0 the convicts rise, have
breakfast and by 7 o’clock commence
work, returning not to their cells dur
ing the remainder of the day until work
is over. On Sundays they remain in
their cells all day, except to go to their
meals and return. There is no regular
recreation or walking exercise at sing
Sing. Work, meals and the cells are
the alternating occupations. Indeed,
if there were any regular hour allowed
during the day for walking in tiles or
go-as-you-please order, there is no suit
able piece of ground within the prison
enclosure large enough to allow 1,500 or
any large number of men to parade at
the same time. All the available space
is occupied as sites for the present
buildings, leaving a few roadways be
tween each.
When one comes to the manner of
punishments in Sing Sing, dangerous
ground is approached. Many have been
the stories published of cruelty in cor
recting the denizens of this institution,
and sadly sensational have been the ‘.‘re
velations” made Jjy released prisoners
of what goes on behind the bare. A
casual visitor has no opportunity of ex
pressing an opinion one way or another
as a result of his inspection, for lie
merely uses his reportorial instincts
and describes as well as he can what he
sees and what he is told. On the occa
sion ot the recseut visit the correspon
dent was “taken to what was formely
used as the punishment room”—a dim
ly lit chamber, comfortable looking
enough, boarded half way round. Into
one of the boards was fixed a hook, upon
which the handcuffs on a man’s wrists
were securely placed, so that his hands
were held to the wall high above his
head, while his feet were tied to an ar
rangement in the wall close to the floor.
His back was then bared and, under
the old regime, the “paddle” applied.
The “paddle,” the correspondent was
told, is now a relic only for flogging lias
been abolished at Sing Sing for nearly a
year. The “paddle” is inoffensive
enough to look at. Many people seem
to have an idea that it is a piece of thin
wood perforated with holes, which
cruelly tear the flesh. It is simply a
piece of leather, plain, flat, pliable and
moderately thick, six inches long and
three inches wide, with a rolled handle
about a foot long.
It has not been supp ned that sewer
age gas could exert any corroding iuda-
enoe on metals, yet invettigations show
that holes are actually worn in lead and
zinc by such gases. From all that
appears, the gas proceeding from the
drain is the most dangerous element—
exhalations of this character exercising
their deadly influence both bf perfora
ting the pipes which contain ahem and
then issuing through 'base apertures
to mingle with the respired air. Sub
stantial iron pipes, well ventilated, and
joined in the most perfect m inner
possible, are considered the beet protec
tion.
A gay band of wanderers trudged
over the hills and anoss the valves of
Montgomry county recently, much to
the wondennens of the natives and the
advancement of science. Some of the
invaders were clad in sacks and trousers,
some in jackets and knickerbockers,
some in bright-colored Jerseys and
frocks, but all carried hammers and
each had a leather bag sluug jauntily
over one shoulder. There were little
lads scarcely forty inches high, who
chatted about triassic and jurassio,
silusan and Devinian, as they might be
expected to do of balls, bicycles and
hoops. There were lanies who lugged
Irigb^agj ^f.^pnglomerate shale and
^ ‘ ore ease than they
a spool of thread in
town. There were pretty girls who
thumiied awav at granite and limestone
like-venerable macadamizers, and there
were grave professors who skipped up
hilly roads and threaded forest paths
like mountain goats. It was the sixth
expedition of Professor Lew'is’ geologi
cal class under command of the profes
sor and attended by a reporter.
The May air was like May wine as
the party left the train at Rubicum
Station. It was ttavared with lilac and
honeysuckle, wild thyme and mint.
There W'ere green hedge rows all atiout
leading up the drives to pretty villas.
There were peach-blow-and-apple-blos
som clouds, and tnere were the dain
tiest contrast of color imaginable, as
the bright dresses of the ladies in the
party and the gay ribbons of the
youngsters’ hats moved through the
green fields and flowering orcoards. At
Rubicum the expedition picked up
some specimens of the oldest fossil
known to Pennsylvania, the scolietus
lineans—naught but a faint thread in a
bit ol limestone rock now, but the first
progenitor in diredt line of all the wav
ing lorests and uodning grasses. Troop
ing along the turnpike, by Willow
Grove, the caravin turned into the
ivaods past a bare and grim old school-
house and over a quaint and picturesque
cross-road to “The Kocks.” Here,
with the soft sougli of the south wind
in the branches over head, within sight
of the ricn green of the meadow s and
the prosperous quiet of the neat farm
houses, the class endeavored, w hile Pro
fessor Lewis lectured, to throw them
selves back in imagination some mil
lions of years to the time when the spot
they stood upon was the eastern shore
of the first of all seas, the Cambrian.
Here, then, was a deadness, compared
with w'hich the Sahara would be a gard
en; a brackish ness that would make the
waters of the Dead Sea sweet as a run
ning brook—only sand and gravel and
water from “The Rocks” to the Rocky
Mountains.
The thought was overpowering. The
expedition rought rrlief in its lunch
baskets. Retracing its steps the class
stopped to drink at a whitewashed
farm house, Which smelled strongly of
doughnuts.
“Water from the Cambrian sea,”
said Professor Hines, of Girard College,
as the bucket came dripping out of
eighty feet of coolness. The Times
man found forms of life, •how'ever, in
his glass later even in generation than
the carboniferous era. Turning off the
cross-road into the Davisville highway
the class caught sight of au innocent
looking stone fence and charged it en
masse, the light infantry leading in
gallant style. The stone clanged back
to tne hammers like the shield of Font
de Boeuf to the challenging point of
Ivanhoe.
“Gneiss,” said a breathless youngs
ter.
“Cyanite,” rejoined Professor Lewis,
correcting him.
A stone’s throw down the road the
road the class ran into a bed of conglo
merate, which was the shore of anothe:
sea, the Triassic, a couple of thousand
centuries less antique than the Cam
brian. The shore is to-day the bank of
Morgan’s creek and mill pond, into
which a few' small boys did their best to
tumble. Morgan’s mill yard once wav
ed with pince and palms, the pupils
learned. Strange fish sw'am where now
the creek is, and huge reptiles sunned
themselves where now a barefooted boy
rested himself on tee fence. The Trias
sic sea w r as thirty miles wide and stretch
ed from the Hudson to Harper’s Ferry.
Under a fine breeze the class turned
argonauts aim sailed across the Triassic
sea—that is to say, they turned to the
right and walked up hill -into a farm
yard, where cropi>ed out a ledge of de
composing sand stone, the ancient bot
tom of this inland ocean. ’
Further up the hill and into the
kitchen garden of the farm house the
professor led his band. There, however,
the marauders met their first check in
the person of an ancient virago,
W'lio stood with arms akimbo at the
back of her dwelling and charged the
class with intended burglar)’ and actual
trespass.
The invading hosts fled in disorder
dow’n the hill, and the baggage carts
and ambulances having been sent to the
front under strong guard up halt W'as
made until the train was boarded.
Vocal Sounds.
New Guinea.
At the Royal Geographical Society of
England recently a paper was read on
New’ Guinea by Mr. Wilfrid Powell,
who spent eight years on the coast of
that island. It has an area of 312,000
Engl:mi equate miles. It is 19,000
square miles larger than Borneo, and as
large as England. Ireland, Scotland, and
France put together. No island in .the
w’orld is its equal for natural products.
Among the productions are tortoise
shells, pearl shell, ivory nuts, gum, san
dal wood, camphor-tree, sago, arrow-
root, ginger, sugar-cane, cocoanuts,
ebony, birds of paradise, and plums,
wnile tobacco is grown in large quanti
ties. In the discussion which followed,
Admiral Moresby said it was a mistake
to suppose he had annexed any portion
of New Guinea. The English flag had
been hoisted there seventeen years be
fore by Lieutenant Yule during Captain
Stanley’s visit.
—Taking the 20,794 names in her city
directory as a basis, Lowell claims a
opulation of 103,790.
A common defect in speaking in large
buildings is inability to catch the key
note or resonance vibration of the en
closed space. All large areas have such
resonance notes, and in some it is very
marked. Westminster Abby, for in
stance, consonates to G sharp, and in
toning on Ibis note is much more aud
ible than one a semitone above or below
it. The use of an open-chest voice as
little vocalized as may be is the best.
It is less laborious, less liable to acci
dents, less liable to develop the affection
commonly known as “clergyman’s
throat,” and by removing the sensation
to effort, more easy and sympathetic.
To analyze the constituents of a good
delivery—first come the pauses, Haste
is one of the commonest faults in speech.
It has two defects—the one in overtax
ing the complex muscular mechanism
of the speaker, the other in adding to
the intellectual labor of the listener.
The rapidity of reception of ideas through’'
the ear differs materially in different
I>ersons, even excluding those distinctly
“hard of heariug.” It is not great
among the uneducated, whence it has
been paradoxically said that all ill
iterate persons are deaf. But they do
require a longer time to arouse them to
a state of attention than the more cul
tivated. Naval officers had defended
the practice of swearing, or, as it w r as
euphemistically termed’ “shotting their
speech,” with sailors, the expletive
rousing attention and preparing the
mind for the succeeding command.
Mr. Hullah had on a similar ground
explained the refrains of fal-lal-las of
the older music in that they dilute the
too concentrated sense of the words,and
give time for the perception of the mus
ic. When the great actor Salvini was
in England, in 1875, an investigator
made some experiments on this point.
Salvini’s voice was one of the most re
markable ever heard for its power of
traveling, even suppressed phrases
coming up to the distant gallery with
perfect clearness. He spoke on a note
about D in the bass about the chest,
and in a sort of recitative; there were
distinct periods from accent to accent,
and the inflections were very large, run
ning over an interval of more than a
fifth. The individual wordscame about
oue a second, and the pauses were aston
ishingly long. They frequently amount
ed to four, several times to five, and at
the two great crises of the play to seven
continuous seconds. And yet there
was no sense of delay or of interruption,
but quite the reverse. The lecturer in
cidentally noted another thing, which
the recent development of Wagner’s
musical theories had invested with ad
ditional interest. In the play “II Gla-
diatore,” the four principal characters
—a young Christian virgin, a Roman
matron: the hero, a Roman officer, and
the gladiator—formed an unintentional^
though perfect, vocal quartet of sopra
no, contralto, tenor and bass. At times
the alternations of dialogue produced
a distinctly musical effect, an observa
tion which to his mind, strongly con o-
borated the views of the great musician
lately deceased, that dramatic music
instead of being conventional, should
be the outflow of passion and emotion,
and that the result could be attained as
well from the elecutionary as from a
strictly melodramatic side.
stealing Hor Diamonds.
Daniel Waldron, now playing at the
National Theatre in the- Bowery, New
York, lives in a first-floor flat at No.
407 East Seventy-eighth street. On
Tuesday night the 29th of May, he re
mained down town several hours after
the performance at the theatre with a
number of friends, and got home at 8
o’clock the next morning. As he step
ped up to the door he noticed that both
front windows of his flat were oi>en.
His wife and Miss Rickert, the house
keeper, sat at the window.
“I’ve been robbed by burglars,” Mrs.
Waldron exclaimed. “X*>e diamond
cross and every cent of money were
taken.”
Mr. Waldron notfled the police at
once, but no clue to the robbers was
obtained.
“I retired at 1J A. M.,” said Mrs.
Waldron. “I placed under my pillow
a satchel containing about $150, and
pinned on the front of my underclothing
my diamond cross, which contained
twelve stones. A tew minutes after 4
o’clock something awakened me and 1
saw the rear door Of the bedroom open
and close two or three times very gra
dually. It was getting light, and 1 had
left lights burning for my husband in
both sitting room aud dining room.
I shouted, ‘Who is there?’ A low voice
answered, ‘It’s me.’ It was not my
husband’s voice; aud I sprang to the
floor and screamed. A tall man step
ped in, placed his hand over my mouth,
and whispered, ‘If you make auy noise
I’ll kill you.’ I saw something which
looked like pincers in his hand, and I
heard something which sounded like
the clicking of a pistol. He threw me
upon the bed and covered my head with
the sheets. He remained holding the
clothes over my head, but I heard whis
pers, and was sure there were other
men in the room. I contrived to get
the sheet off one of my eyes, and saw’
three men in the room. The sheet was
again pulled over my eyes, and I was
again threatened. I remained quiet
while they rummaged about.
“Then they all came to the bed again,
and one said, ‘Where is that diamond
cross?’ ‘My husband is wearing it,’ I
said. T know you have it,’ he replied,
and they tore my night-clothing away,
found it, and’tore it loose. Then they
took the satchel from under the pillow
which contained the money. While one
of tlie men watched me, the others went
through to the rear of the flat. The
man by me called to them, ‘Well, boys,
put on your shoes.’ They all departed
so noiselessly that I did uot know they
had gone. As soon as I could after I
found tliat no one was in the room I ran
to the window. No one was in sight.
I then alarmed the housekeeper, who
lives in the basement. The men were
not more than twenty-five years old.”J|
The housekeeper says she heard foot
steps above, but thought it was; Mr.
Waldron.
THE VERDICT
-OF-
THE PEOPLE
BUY THE BEST!
Mb. J. O. Boaa—Dear Sir: I bought the first
Davis Machine sold by you over five years ago (or
my wife, who has given it a long and (air trial. I
am well pleased with it. It never gives any
rouble, and Is as good aa when first bought.
J. W. BOUCK.
Wlnnsboro, S. C. t April 1883.
Mr. Boao: Yon wish to know what I have to say
In regard to the Davis Machine bought ol you three
years ago. I (eel i can’t say too much In its (avor.
I made about tan,no within five months, at times
running it so (ast that the needle would get per-
fectly hot (rom (r.ction. I (eel confldeni I could
not have done the same work with as much ease
and so well with any other machine. No time lost
in adjusting attachments. The lightest running
machine I have ever treadled. Br >ther James and
Williams’ families are as mnch pleased with their
Davis Machines bought ot you. I want no better
machine. As I said before, I don’t think too
much can be said (or the Davis Machine.
Kespei tlullv,
Ellen Stevenson,
Fairfl“ld County, Aprt’, 1883.
Mr. 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 Davia
Vertical Feed.
Respectfully.
„ Mrs. R. Milling.
Fairfield county, Apn 1 , 1883. .
Mr. Boao: I bought a Davis Vertical Feed
Scwmg Machine from yon four years ago. I am
delighted with it. It never has given me any
trouble, and has never been the least out of order.
It is as good as when I first bought it. I can
cheerfully recommend It.
Kespectful’y,
Mrs. M. J. Kirkland.
Montlcelio, April 30,1883.
This is to certify that I have been using a Dans
Verticil Feed Sewing Machine for over tw >years,
purchased of Mr. J. O. Bo ig. I haven’t found It
possessed of any fault—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. Willingham.
Oaklau I, Fairfield county, 8. C.
Mu Boao: t amwcii pieasea mevery pamcula
with the Davis Machine nought of you. I think it
a first-class machine la every respect. Yon know
you sold several machines of the same make to
diiferent members of our families, all of whom,
as far as I know, are well pleased with them.
Respectfully,
Mas. M. H. Mobley.
Fairfield county, April, 1883.
This Is to certify we have had in constant use
the Davis Machine bought of you about three years
ago. As we take In work, and have made the
price of it several times over, we don’t want any
better machine. It is always ready to do any kind
of work we nave to do. No packeringor skipping
stitches. We can only say wt are well pleased
ana wish no better machine,
CATHERINE WTLIE AND SISTER.
April 25, 18-18,
I have no fault to Hud with my mach ne, and
don’t want my better. I have m tde tne price of
it several times bv taking In sewing. It is always
ready to do us work. I think It a first-class ma
chine. I feel I can't say too much for the Davis
Vertical Feed Machine.
Mrs. Th imas Smith.
Kalrflel 1 county, April, 1833.
It gives me much
Its of the Darts Ver-
Mr. J. O. Boao—Dear Sir:
pleasure to testify to tne merits (
tical Feed Sewing Machine. The ma hlne I got of
you about fire years ago. has been almost la con-
siaut use ever since that time. I cannot aee that
it is a orn any, aud has not cost me one cent for
repairs since we have had it. Am well pleased
and don’t wish lor any better.
Yours tru’y,
ItOBT. CRAWFORD,
Granite Quarry, near Wlnnsboro s. C.
We have used the Davis Vertical Fee 1 Sewing
Machine for the last five years. We would not
Lave any other make at any price. The machine
has given us unbounded satisfaction.
Very respectfully,
Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daughters]
Fairfield county, S. C., Jan. 2T, 1883.
Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing
Machine from Mr. J. O. B >ag some three years
ago, and it havlug given me perfect satisfaction In
every respect as a family machine both for heavy
and light sewing, and never needed the least re
pair in any way, l can cheerfully recommend It to
anv one as a first-class machine in every particu
lar, and think It second to none. It la one ot the
simp.est machines made; my children use it with
altea-e. The attachments are more easily ad
justed and it doe-i a greater range of work by
means of its Vertical Feed than auy other ma
chine I have ever seen or used.
Mrs. Thomas owinos.
Wlnnsboro, Fairfield county, S. C.
We have had one of the D ivU Machines about
four years and have always found it ready to do all
kinds of work we have had ocoas on to da Can't
see that the machine Is worn any, and works as
well aa when new.
Mrs. W. J. Crawford,
Jackson’s Cree t, Fairfield county, S. C.
—
My wife Is highly pleased with the Davis Ms-
chlue hougbi of you. She would not take double
what sue gave for It. The machine has not
been out of order since she had It, and she can do
any kind of work on If.
Very Respectfully,
Jas. F. Free.
Montlcelio, Fairfield county, 8. C.
The Davis Se wing Machine Is simply a treas
ure ■ Mrs. J. A. goodwtn.
Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, 1383.
J.O Boao, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife
has been using a Davis Sewing Machine constant
ly for the past four years, and It hag never needed
any repairs an i works just as well as when first
bought. She says It will do a greater range ot
practical work *>nd do it easier and bet-er than
any machine the ua* ever useu. We cunatfuUy
recommend it as a No. 1 family machine,
Your trajr,
Jas. Q. Davia.
Wlnnsboro, 8. C., Jan. S, 1883.
Thk touchstone by which men try os
ill most often their own vanity.
Mr. Boao : I have always found my Davis Ma
chine ready do all kinds of to work I have had oc
casion to do. I cannot see that the machine Is
worn a particle and it works as wedos when nsw.
Respectfully,
Mrs. K. a Goodins.
Wlnnsboro, 8. C., April, 1883,
y
Mr. Boas > My wile has been constantly using
the Davia Machine bought ot you about live yeeri
ago. I have never regretted buying It, as u Is
always ready for any kind ol family tewing, either
neavv or light. It is never oat of fix or needing
pairs.
Fairfield, S. C., March, 1883,
iei
Mi
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