University of South Carolina Libraries
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. <1. AUGUST 11. 1883.1 ESTABLISHED 1848 THE VERDICT —OF— THE PEOPLE BUY THE BEST! Mr. J. O. Boas—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 Rives any rouble, and is as good as when first bought. J. W. iiOLICC. Winnsboro, S. C., April 1883. Mr. Boao: t ou wish to know what I have to say an regard to the Davis Machine bought of you three years ago. I (eel I can’t say too much In its favor. J made about $80,no within five months, at times running g so fast that the needle would get per fectly hot from friction. I feel confident I could pot have done the same work with as much ease and so well with auy other machine. No time lost In adjusting attachments. The lightest running machine 1 have ever treadled. Brother James and Williams’ families are as much pleased with their Davis Machines nought or you. 1 want no better machine. As I said before, I don’t think too much can be said for the Davis Machine. KespectfuUv, Ellen Stevenson, Fairfl“Ul County, Aprl', 1883. Mr. Boao : My machine gives me perfect satis faction. I find no fault with it. The attachments ai e so simple, i wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Feed. Respectfully. „ , . ,, Mrs. R. Milling. Fairfield county, Apn', 1883. MR. Boao: I bongnt a Davis vertical Keed ewmg Machine from yon four years ago. I am flighted with it. it never has given me any rouble, and has never been the least out of order, it is as good as w nen I first nought it. I can cheerfully r comuiend it, Respeetfui'y, Mrs M. J. Kirkland. Monttcelio, April 30,1883. This Is to certify that I have been using a Dans Vertic il Feed Sewing Machine for over tw lyv.trs, purchased of Mr. J. o. Bo tg. I haven't found it possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so simple. It nevertefuses to work, and is certainly the lightest running in the market. I consider it • fitst-class machine. Very respectfully, Minnie M. Willingham. Oakland, Fairfield county, S. C. Mb Boao : i am wea pleased in every partiuu With the uavis Machine nought of you. I think » first-glass machine in every respect. You Icnsvv you sold several machines of the same make to different members of our families, all of whom, #s far as I know, are well pleased witn them. Respectfully, Mrs. M. H. Mobley. Fairfield county, April, i»S3. ‘OH, EARTH, ART THOU NOT WEARY?’ 1'iiisLstoeeitity we have had in constant us» the Davis Macmne bought of you about i nree years ago. As we take in work, and have made the price of It several times over, we don’t wa it auy better machine. It is always ready to do any kind of work we nave to do. No puckering or skipping Stitches. We can oniy say we are well phased an t wish no better machine, CATHERINE WVLIK AND SISTER. April 85, ISS|. I have no fault to find with my much na, and don’t want any better. I have rat le the price of It several times by taking in sewing. It is always ready to do Its work. Ittirak it a flr.st-e.ltss ma chine. I fee! I can t say too much for the D.ivis Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs, Thomas Smith. Falrf eld county, April, 1883. It gi pleasure to testily to the merits of I tical Feed Sewing Machine. The raa nine I got of Mr. J. O. boao—D. ar Sir: It gives me m ich pleasure to testify to the merits of the Davis Ver- you about five years ago. has been almost in con stant use ever since that lime. I cannot see that if is worn any, amf 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, liOBT. CRiWFORD, Granite Quarry, near Winnsboro S. C. W'e h lye used the Davis Vertical Fee l Sewing Machine for the last five years. We wonld not have any other make at auy price. The machine has given us unbounded satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daughters! Fairfield county, 8. C„ Jan. gi, 1883. We have had one of the Davis Machines about four yearn and have always found It ready to do all kinds of work we nave had occasion to do. Can’t see that the machipa pi worn aqy, apd works as well as waen pew. Mbs. w. j, Crawford, Jackson’s Creek,Fairfield county, 8. C. My wife Is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chine bought 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 cpn do any kind of work on IL Very Reapectfullv, Jab. F. Free. Montlcello, Fairfield county, 8. C. The Uavis Sewing Machine U simply a treas ure Mrs- J- A- goqdwvn, Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, laffs. J, O Boao, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir : My iy> (e has neen using a Davis Sewing Machine constant ly for the past four years, and it has never needed any repairs an i works Just as well as when first bought. She ears It will do a greater range of practical work »Dd do it easier and bet’er than any machine she nas ever used. We cheerfully recommend It as a No. 1 family machine, Your tru-y, Jab. Q. Davib. Winnsboro, S. C., Jan. 3,1883. Oh Earth, art thou not weary of thy graves? Dear, patient, mother Earth, upon thy breast? How are they heaped from farthest east to west! From the dim north, where wild the storm- wind raves O’er the cold surge that chills the shore it laves. To sun-lit isles by softest seas caressed, Where roses bloom away and song birds nest. How thick they lie—like flecks upon the waves. There is no mountain-top so far and high, No desert so remote, no vale so deep. No spot by man so long untenanted, But that the pale moon from its march on high Sees Oyer soma Iona grave the eliadowe creep! Oh earth, art thou not weary of thy dead? HOW SHKWASWON, Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years ago, and It navlug given me perfect satlatactton in every respect asa taraily macnine. both for hea-y and light sewing, and never needed the least re- pglr |p any way, I can cheerfully recommend It to lay one at a orat-clasa mpchln - In every particu lar, apd thlpk (t secopd to npne. It la one of the Blmpieat machines made; my cblldrep use It v|tn all ease. The attachments are more easily ad justed and it doe i 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. Winpsboro, Fairfield county, 8. C. Mg. Boao : I have always found my Davis Ma chine ready do all kinds of to work I haye had oc casion to do. I cannot aee that the machiue la Wcfn a particle and it works Ha weil aa when Dow. Respectfully, ‘ Mrs. R. C. Gooding. Winnsboro, 9. C., April, 1883, Mr. Boag ; My wife has been constantly using ' Davit Machine bought of yon about nve years . I have never regretted buying it, as u la waya ready for any kind of family sewing, elthar r or light It Is never out of Ax or ueeuuig ra. Very respectfully, A.W. Ladd. F9M|el d < * C., March, 1363. Alexia!” The widow Sharply hurried out to tho little summer kitchen, and hastily pinned a bow of scarlet ribbon at the throat of her dark morning-dress, and smoothed the crinkly, jet-black hair that waved above her high forehead. “Alexia!” she cried sharply to a girl with bare, dimpled arms and gold- streaked hair, “go down to the suller and bring up that yallow pitcher full o’ cider, an git a plate o' t.hpfn crulls you fried yesterday. “Be in a jiffy, too, fur I want ’em right away.” “AH right, aunt Phemie.” Alexia flew down the cellar, and liastily brimmed the yellow pitcher with the foamy liquid; then seizing a blue-rimmed plate, she piled it high with the crisp, brown embers—rings, diamonds, and plump, tempting-look ing hearts. “Is it Daddy Crabree, aunt Phemie?” she asked innocently, as she handed the plate to her aunt. “Daddy Crabtree, Indeed!” sniffed the widow scornfully. “Do you s’pose I’d waste cider an’ crulls on old Daddy Crabtree? “It’s Squire Lillinbridge, that's who ’tis, an’ you see that you mind that currant jelly on the cook-stove, an’ keep out o’ sight with your frowsy hair an’ that old slouch of a dress.” “Squire Lilli bridge! “I’ll keep out of sight,” sighed Alex ia, as she turned away with the shadow of tears in her downcast blue eyes. “But I would like to know what makes him so cold and distant to me now, when he used to be so pleasant and kind.” “Taste another crull, squire, dew! “They’re my own make, but fur all tuai U uea a“ ussie wmi Aiexm auouT. offerin' ’em to you. “What’s the use, aunt.’ she said, ‘of givin’ away vittlas to folks that don’t need ’em? “I wouldn’t be a-throwin' away crulls an’cider like that on anybody,’ she declared. “But, la! I’m only too glad to hev somethin’ I kin offer to visitors, espec ially when they are partikler triends. “I believe in friendship, an’ I alius hev an’alius wiU.” And she donned her most hospitable smile, thereby deepening the track of the “crow’s feet” around the sharp black eyes. “Won’t you hev another taste of the cider, squire? “Well, ef you must go, I won’t ben der you. “But do came ag’in an’ stay to tea! “It’s a real charity to me to hev something to cook fur once an’ awhile. Now, I shall expect you.” The widow smiled complacently as she watched her visitor out of sight. “Yes,” she muttered to herself, “it’s a cornin’ all right now. “I think he did hanker a lectle mite after Alexia fur awhile, but I’ve sot that all right.” And she smiled to herself, much as a cat might who was all ready to spiing upon an unwary mouse. “The squire’s a mighty weU-to-do man,” She continued, rocking back wards and forwards in the chair her visitor had just vacated—“a mighty well-to-do map. an’ not a chick or a child to hinder nim, no matter what he Hoes. the LjHibridge fai-m—why it’s the biggest an’ the best kept of any farm hereabout. “piie calves on his back pasture would be a forchin by theirselves, without a-countin’ the medder lots, an’ the apple-orchard, an’ hop-field, an’ fhe big bam, plump full of clover hay, an’ the biggest ears of com that ever growed in a bottom field, “Besides, the squire’s a powerful gopfilookip’ pian,ap’ ef t’wan't fuf that old-maid slater of nis I sh’d hev nothin to complain of. “But ’tv/ou’t make no great differ ence, fur whent I git him I kin soon make the house too hot to bold any other woman. I shiU set Alexia adrift, too, fur that matter, but I won’t give her a hinc till the time comes. “There’s the apples to gether, an’ the picklin, an’ sich. “After that she kin look out fur her self. ‘ l I ain't got no caU to keep hef.” And pretty Alexia, unconscious of the fate in store for her, stood looking out of the kitchen window at the great fields and meadows of the Lillibridge farm, and thinking wbat a bappv man the squire must be, to claim such pos sessions for his own. In the meantime, Squire Lillibridge had his own thoughts, as he walked slowly homeward under the green trees which borderd the grassy lane. “Yes Mrs. Sharply is a fine-looking woman,” he muttered, fhpughtfully, pulling the end of nis brown mous tache. “And if I was only certain she was as true and good-tempered as she ap pears, to be, I’d marry her to-morrow, if she was willing. “As for little Alexia, it is a great pity sbe has such a shrewish temper ird ur pharitable disposition.” And the Squire sighed, as he thought of the blue eyes and gold streaked hair, and concluded the old proverb must be rue, “all was not gold that glittered.” Any doubts as to the widow’s chari table disposition might have been set at rest the next morning, when the gate-latch clicked and she peered cau tiously out of the closed shutters to see who was coming, but soon drew back with a scowl of disappointment on her face. “Alexia,” she cried sharply, “don’t you see that there’s a tramp limping up here with a patch on his eyes? “Go an’ send him about his business in a jiffy.” “Oh, aunt Phemie, I—I can’t,” pro tested Alexia. “Maybe hi’s hungry.” “Fiddlesticks.! “Mebby he’s lazy, you mean “Get along out of the way, then, and let me come. “1 ain’t afraid to sneak to a lame Beg gar.” And sbe did speak, to such purpose that the poor felloiy stnwpefi out again as fast as his lame leg would allow, scarcely daring to shut the gate after him in his trepidation. He was hastening down the alley with all bis miglit. When a back gate flew open, and a little figure with gold- streaked hair and convolvulqs blue eyes, suddenly confronted him- “Here,” sue whispered hurriedly, “here’s a slice of cake aud a mug of coffee. “It’s all there was left from break fast. “Throw the mug away when you’re done, for I must hurry back before aunt Phr’inie misses me.” And shp scutted quickly through the gate, only to run in her aunt’s aims. “So, miss, I’ve caught you at last!” declared the widow crossly. “I’ve alius suspected you of givin’ cold vittles away to them mizzable tramps, ap’ now I know it. “Go into the house this minute, an’ if that fellow don’t take himself mIf, I’ll git the constable to help him.” “Pray do so, madam.” saida fami liar voice, and, to the widow’s conster nation, the tramp tore the patch from his eye, pulled off the grizzly wig, threw aside his dilapidated coat, and Squire Lillibridge stood revealed. “It’s a plot!” snipped the widow crabbedly,' ns soop she recovered voice enough to speak. “It’s all a plot between you two, and Alexia kin pack up her things and git out of my house this minute!’, Just what I want her to do,” re lumed the Squire composedly. 1 want a wife, and if Alexia will marry roe to-day, my home shall be hers for ever after,” the widow finupced intp the house in a huff. “Ef I’d only a-suspicioned it was But it was too late now, for Alexia, blushing like the scarlet berries at the roadside, was on her way to the parson age to become Mrs. Squire Lillibridge. CM HofMf at Home. The richly-d male escort who lady and her polite in the habit of ha'l T»)es of thp Sea. Moby Dick, the celebrated white whale, though not killed by the Ahab, was certainly scratched, and must long ago have died. That wonder of the deep, therefore, can not be held respon sible for the loss of the Inga. The question then arises, if it was a whale that destroyed the bark, what sort of a whale was k? “They aren’t sperm whales,' 1 exclaimed a wbalesman, when a number of huge monsters rose to the surface near his vessel; “their spouts aren’t bushy enough; they aren’t sul phur-bottoms, or they wouldn't stay up so long: they aren’t hump-backs, for they aren’t got any humps, they aren’t fin-backs, for yon wont oatoh a fin-back so near a ship, they aren’t Greenland whales for we aren’t off the coast of Greenland, and they aren’t right whales for it wouldn’t be right to say so. I tell ye then, them’s criukum-crankum whales.” A sailor asked what they were. “Why,” was the answer, “them is whales that can’t bo ootched,” It was probably a oriukum crankum whale that rammed the Inga. Oue would rather not think so because whales ca pable of sinking harmless barks aud im periling the lives of hearty mariners ought to find a place in the list of things that are to be eanght. Yet we do not doubt that a whale, if it has the mmd to attempt such a feat, is quite capable of knocking in the side of a wooden vessel of the Inga type by butt ing her. The head, which is its batter ing-ram, constitutes nearly one-third of the whole length and a greater propor tion of the whole bulk of the immense oreaturo. That of the sperm-whale is impenetrable to the harpoon, and would not, therefore suffer much inconvenience from driving full tilt into a ship’s side. Another suggestive point is that few large bulls of the sperm species have been captured whose heads have not been found scarred and furrowed with the marks of the teeth of rival bulls, and the fierceness of these combats has been again and again attested by shattered teeth or distorted jaws. It is possible that a large sperm bull, inflamed with jealousy, mistook the hull of the Inga for its detested foe. and “went” for the unfortunate ship. Sperm whales have been fcnown to run three hundred fath oms of line in four m’nates and six hundred fathoms in sounding, and their running speed when “gallied" is es timated at from ten to twelve miles an hour, though some authorities have put it as high as twenty-five miles. Lei us assume v ship to be sailing seven knots and alt teked by a huge bull coming along at her at twelve knots. The im pact due to a velocity of nineteen knots, or about twenty-two land miles, an hour would, having regard to the prodigious bujk. of the whale, be crushing. • Some thing must go.” as sailors say, and if if the whale survived it would be the ship. At all events, we may take it that, if the Inga was sunk by a whale the creature would be a sperm bull. A “right” whale would not attempt such an experiment with a nose so delicate that the least prick of a lance lasnfficent to arrest or deflect its motion wheq in full career. ing a passenger hope-car to bear them to their destinatiot very seldom give even a thought to fhe history of the ani mals whose tendons and muscles are the means of saving them an arduous walk through the hot sun of a summer after noon. Notwithstanding the important connection between the average car horse’s existence aud that of the average citizen, the latter rarely gives a thought to the plodding animal that jogs along all day over the cobblestones. The Chestnut and Walnut streets line Phila delphia, rups al>»ut eighty cars a day on its three branches. To nuqve ufriu A ~ have in all 714 horses, * People about the oity have a general idea that the life of a street-car horse is a very hard and rough one. The public, however, sees the horse onlv while at work, and his manner of living when not trotting with a car load of peonle through the busy streets of large cities is completely hidden from the curious gaze of ordinary mortals. Even the people who remain in the car until the depot is reached npyer think of visiting the Stables qv inquiring how the horses live. The stable-boss of the company has charge of the purchase, sale and general keeping of the horses, although it is all done under the eye of the superinten dent. The majority of the horses in this city come from the green fields and prairies of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wis consin and other Western States, and their youth is spent miles away from the toll and turmoil of their maturer years, and the hoofs are at first, soft and not accustomed to the hard and unyielding cobbles of a city pavement. Every ani mal that is purchased is carefully ex amined by the stable-boss, and is com pelled to make one trial trip in company with one of the old stagers before it is paid for. If he promises to make a good animal he is purchased. The ages range from 5 to 8 years. None older than 8 nor younger than 5 years are purchased. All horses when brought from the West- era pasture to the heat and dust of the city are liable to have a spell of sickness, and it is generally several weeks after a Horse is purchased before he can be worked regularly as a car horse. No marks are put on the horses to distin guish them, nor are they numbered and an account kept of each. If this were done, and a large number of any par ticular lot died soon after they were purchased, it would tend to shut out the horses from that section, whereas the cause may be aud most likely would be, from the weather and general treatment experienced in their journey east, borne llWt ift&X iM^Mbtt^vr^thef, while others may not meet with anything but sunshine and cool breezes. It would hardly do to blame the breed of horses if the former suffered more than the latter. The prices paid for the horses average about $165. For some fine ani mals considerable more is paid, while others again fall far below this figure. Each norse makes three trips a day or covers a distance of twenty-one miles. Outside of this he has nothing to do but eat, sleep and rest. The question of orovender forms rather an important one to the horse, and is made the subject of considerable study by those having charge of him. The horses of the Chest nut and Walnut-strepts line are fed three times a day. Tne principle articles of diot are hay, meal aud bran. The quan tity of each varies slightly with the weather, but averages 15 pounds of hay, 15 pounds of meal and 2 pounds of bran a day. About 6 pounds of the bay are cut fine while the other is fed as it is. Hostlers play an important part in the care of the horses. Each hostler lias 14 horses to care for. He must clean them, examine the condition of the shoes, look after the sanitary condition, feed and water them and put them in and take them out of the cars. The hospital is also an important item in connection with a horse-car stable. There are gen erally altout 14 horses hi this department which are suffering from various dis eases and complaints. They are treated chiefly by the stable boss, but several times a week a regular veterinary sur geon stops and looks after them. No medicine is ever given to any of the horses unless they are actually suffering from some disease. A blacksmith shop is also connectea with the stables, and four blacksmiths— three shoers and one jobber—are con stantly employed. One set of shoes will last barely three weeks, when they have to be renewed. The hostlers are obliged to examine the hoofs, aAd whenever one is loose the horse in taken to the black smith shop. Hardly any chemicals out side of lime are used to keep the odors out qf the stable. The place Is very well drained, aud lime is all-sufficient, except in very warm weather, when a little earthy plaster is strewed around the stables. Hye straw is used exclusively for bedd ! ng. Timothy hay is used for feeding purposes, but for cutting several brands are mixed. The cleaning is all done by the old-fashioned brush and currycomb. The endurance of fhe horse varies considerably, hofne are useless after several months’ work, while others are goo for fifteen years’ service. There are two horses now in the stables at 41st and Chestnut streets which have been in continuous service for over fifteen years. Such horseSj however, are very rare. When an animal becomes unfit for car use it is sold, generally to far mers, but sometimes to be used in the city for carting purposes. Old horses generally realize about or $bU. Tlie average weight of the liorses is 1,115 pounds. The meal and bran for feeding pur- E oses is ground on the place. A 60- orse power engine runs the machinery. The hay is also cut by machinery, —Chief Justice Waite has gone to bis ( home in Ohio for the summer. Ann kinds of roots in tha cellar will keep butoor if a little fresh dirt is thrown over them. For beets and tar nips this is very important, these roots drying ap or becoming tougn and taste less if exposed to the air. A foe to God was ne’er true friend to man. Despair makes victims sometimes * victors. A Cm« of Retribution. Nearly a hundred years ago a York shire peasant died in England, leaving a widow and eight children. Four of the children were children of a former wife. His only fortune was a single sovereign. His wife, however, had a little fortune of twelve pounds, re ceived from her father. Soon after the husband's death, the oldest son, who was eighteen years of age, and had been apprenticed to a carpenter, ran away. As he was a skilled workman and his services were of value, his master was extremely an- gry, and declared lie would punish him te diV full ok the law. If he y* ***»>' - • * * - i6 widow—who was only a step mother to this boy—was most anxious and troubled at the boy’s delin quency, She tried to appease the wrath of the master, but in vain. Knowing of her little property, the man finally offered to cancel tlie arti cles of apprenticeship if the widow would give her little store of twelve pounds, all that site had between her self and poverty. Tills offer the honorable woman con sented to accept. Hoon after this criminal liability had been canceled, the boy appeared, not to help the woman who had sacrificed so much for him, not even to thank her for her noble act; hut to demand the single sovereign, the sole proi>erty. left by his father. As it was his legal right, the widow gave it to him. He immed iately left England for America, leav ing his abused mother to fight poverty as bqst she could, and was never heard of by Ids English friends again. Upon arriving in this country, the boy immediately found work at his trade. He was covetous, and his am bition was to accumulate money. Ho worked for it as few men ever worked. He took no rest. It was as theugh a demon urged him on day and night. He became miserly. Soon he allowed himself no comforts and subsisted in the cheapest i»ossibie way. For more than fifty years he lived; hoarding, and fever ish for more gold. All through these years he gave no sign that he ever thought of returning the twelve pounds to the woman across the water, to whom he owed filial respect and gratitude. Finally the result of his excessive work showed itself in inflammatore rheumatism. For seventeen years hy lay on his bed, writhing under the pain this disease inflicts. Still he gave no sign of grateful obligation to his moth er, or made any effort to restore the money. But the day of summons came. Ho had lived to a most, .advanced _ aae- man, by his habits of covetousness, he died and passed to meet his earthly record in another world. A search was instituded for his heirs. The step-mother had long been dead. All of his own brothers and sistesr were dead. Of his half-brothers and sisters—children of the woman he hail so wronged—three were living, and among them the fortune of tlie miser was justly divided. It amounted to more than oue hundred thousand dol lar’s. Tlie lawyer in whose hands the prop erty had been placed, bad tlie curiosity to reckon the interest on the twelve pounds for the years elapsed before it returned to the family. At the high rate of interest then prevailing the sum was found to approximate so nearly to the amount which was distributed among the heirs astoexcite his surprise, and to cause the question, “Was this simply a concidence?” Unwittingly the man had worked and pinched and saved only to pay a debt which he never meant to pay. He had illustrated a truth that is not always apparent to the human vision. Injustice may do its wretched work and triumph in its wrong. But some time and some where, in this life, or in the eternity that awaits with solemn portent all human events, the wrong will be brought to light, and justice will lie done. Neither moral law nor physical law can be violated, with God and right to uphold them, and the violator escape penalty. How AuU Bury Their Dead. It is the general habit among many species of ants to bury the dead very carefully. The following interesting account is given by an Australian ob server: '•T saw a large number of ants surrounding the dead ones, and deter mined to watch their proceedings close ly. Four or five started off from the rest toward a hillock a short distance away, in which was an ants’ nest. This they entered, and in about five minutes they reappeared, followed by the others. All fell into rank, walking regularly and slowly two by two, until they ar rived at the spot where lay tho soldier ants. In a few minutes two of the ants advanced aud took up the dead body of one of their comrades: then two others, and so on, until all were ready to march. First walked two ants bearing a body, then two without a burden; then two others with another dead ant, and soon, until the line was extended to about forty pairs, and the procession now moved slowly onward, followed by an irregular body of about 200 ants. Oc casionally the two laden ants stopped, and, laying down the dead ant, it was taken up by the two walking unburd ened behind them, apd .thus, by occa sionally relieving each other, they ar rived at a sandy spot near the sea. Tlie body of ants now commenced digging with their jaws a number of holes in the ground, into each of which a dead ant was laid, when they were carefully covered over. This did not quite finish tlie remarkable circumstances attending the funeral of tlie ants. Some six or seven of tlie ants had attempted to run off without performing their share of the task of digging; these were caught and brought back, when they are at once attacked by the body of ants aud killed. A single grave was quickly dug, and they were aU dropped into it.” It should seem that indolence itself would incline a person to be honest, as it requires infinitely greater pains and contrivance to be a knave. The Meadow Dance. Near Aschersieben, in Germany, lies a verdant strip of land, known by the name of the Dancing Meadow—a name which the following tradition will serve to illus trate. Ages ago the blooming daughters of the neighboring burghers were often in the habit of assembling on a summer’s even ing, when the weather was fine, to enjoy one another’s society in this enchanting vale; during which the dance was never forgotten. Besides, it w^s the custom for all young brides on the day before their nuptials, to meet here the playmates of their infant years, whose circle they were about Vo quit for eves, and to join in a pacing danoe, along with the bordering tenants of the well-known scene. A party happened to have met on the second evening of these rural ceremonies, previous to a wedding, and were on the point of escorting home their rich and beautiful betrothed, late on a clear moon light night, with all the mirthful triumph of dancing, innocent gaiety, and song. Not the whole of the guests, however, were destined to reach their home. Two of the most beautiful maidens dis appeared. Notwithstanding the most active exer tions on the part ot their friends and rela tives, no trace of them could be discovered; their seats remained that night vacant in the domestic circle, and within a few hours all was confusion; no less among the parents than in the surrounding abodes. Many weeping eyoe were kept awake; their lovers swore the deadliest revenue; for they found reason to suspect that under the veil of night a grievous wrong had been premeditated, and perhaps ac complished, which left them nothing but the hope of revenge. And in part their fears were well groundeit Borne domr sties in the servire of the chief of Aruaiein. becoming acquainted with the hour of the intended festival, had the audacity, for the purpose ot amusing themselves and indulging their master’s propensities, to lie concealed In an adja cent tbickc’. Under cover of the night, they succeeded in seizing upon two of the dancers, who happening to stray from tbe'r companions, had approached nearest to them, and they were instantly conveyed, amid shouts of surrounding revelry and rejnoings, un- heard, into the neighboring llsm moun tains, until a fit time snoold occur to con vey them to their ultimate destination in Raubberg. Scarcely had the sun streaked the hori zon on the following morning, when a number of the. citizens, whose anxiety had kept them awake, were seen assembled be tore their doors, in order to advise with tb-i/e'tffiupieti. Boon they learned that a secret messen gcr who had been despatched upon some private affair, aud was returning, ere day break, over the mountains, had heard sufficient to prove the forcible abduction of the young women, although he had lost the track of the robbers among the hills. There was reason, however, to conclude that they must reside somewhere upon the Arustein Their haunts were still a secret. The magistrate, upon thus being made acquainted with the facts, instantly solic ited a meeting of the relatives of the ad ducted parties, while they attempted in the meantime to preserve calmness and moderation in the minds of the incensed citizens. The chief pan of the assemhlv were tar instantly arming the whole ot the inhabi tants capable of bearing arms, in order, it possible, to surprise and destroy the hated and notorious castle of Arustein, which, they said, ought long since to have been levelled with the ground. But, besides the unceaftainty of the in formation received, it was justly remarked by the magistrates who presided, that it would require months of open and de cided hostility to capture so powerful and well provisioned a castle aa that of Raubberg, whence the formidable enemy made his depredations. Moreover, the present case called for in stant redress. At length, after a long and stormy dis cussion of the most efficacious means fer obtaining it, during which the heads of the more liold and indignant had leisure to grow cooler, It was agreed to adopt the last suggestion of the oldest magistrates, who explained to council the superior opinion he entertained of a ruse do guerre, by which he trusted that the freedom of the anducted party would be more speedily accomplished. In the first place every one must return quickly back to his own house, concealing his feelings of indignation and revenge, as well as he could. Then, just as If nothing extraordinary occurred at the late festival—as if the absence of none of the party had been noticed or that their return was quietly expected, another nuptial evening should be as soon as possible announced, with even more bustle and splendor than the former; all their neighbors to be iuntod to the dance, and information sent by trnstv messengers to the adjacent villages around. « Accordingly, these same tidings reached the ears of the lord of Arustelu, who, on receiving an invitation along with his knights and esquires, loudly ridiculed the stupidity of the poor citiaens, who thus actually threw their daughters In bis way. Toen. amidst oaths and laughter, a still more extended Incursion than the former was determined upon, the whole of the party present declaring that they would, this tunc, each and every one seize on his individual prey, after the close of the dance. About twilight on the appointed day, the meadow was seen covered with beau tiful groups of dancers; yet, with all this, no virgins this day trod the scene—they were safe in their parental mansions. It was the stout citizens, and next to them their eldest boys, who were arrayed in women’a attire, with newly sharpened weapons concealed under their clothes, ail intent upon avenging the honor of their daughters—their sisters, or their betrothed, and for ever in future to secure it. They began the dance with sounds of tevelry and mirth, yet aomewbat aubdued to tones of womanhood, while their hearts throbbed for vengeance, until the approach ot midnight, when their trusty scouts brought word of the yet near and nearer advance of the lord of Arustein, ap- roschmg softly toward tho spot. Now the dancing party seems to brea up—concluding with the old national fi| ures, and singing, and apparently draw ing homewards. But, behold! the next moment the chie of Arustein burst into the midst of them followed by his knights and pages, oi horseback and on foot, all eager to jou in the pursuit, of which they vaiub hoped that their former depredation wa only a poor specimen. They let him advance; and the chie no sooner found himsclt in the midst o the dancers, then he threw himself fron his steed in order to enjoy the pleasun and applause of bearing off the intendec bride with his own hands. liut what was the feeling he expert enced, when, as with a thundering void and a laugh of joy he claimed the bridi for himself, the bright steel flashed in hi eyes, aud smote his outstretched arm, be fore he could draw it back, quite through and through. 6 Smarting with pain and utteriag threats of revenge, he started back to regain hu steed. But ten stroug arms were about him; he telt himself pinioned hand and foot and neck, as if chains of iron girt him round. Borne of the knights and pages who hu 0 - teoed with threats to his assistance, were, after a short struggle, overpowered and secured; most of them, however, escaped witn cries of terror and surprise, ami wounded with sabres or with stoues. The chief culprit, however, was carried with shouts ot triumph into the city. There tho lord ot Arustein was thrown forthwith into a large, solitary dungeon and there he confessed, on beholding tUe preparations for his approaching execution, the deeds he nad perpetrated and farther intended to accomplish. The young ladies were, at his own com mand, immediately delivered io their friends; in consequence of which, after paying a heavy penalty and taking a memorable oath never to commit any offence against the city or its ^habitants, he was released from his ternlic chains, but these chains, in which he tor months languished, are still preserved, aud are now to be seen in the town-house at As- chersleben—a lasting monument of the skill and foresight of the old times, and were worthy of the admiration of future generations. Tne Fireman’s real. •We have many close shaves,” sai an old railroad engineer, “but after tl: scare is over a person will recollei something that was said or done tht will cause him to laugh in spite of hin self. I was once running a freight ei gine on the Alleghany Valley Ron One warm night in Summer, just aft a heavv rain •wiognaug lis a black cloud over the river and tracl making it- impossible to see twenty fe< ahead of the locomotive. Suddenly gust of wind lifted the fog, and n< more than thirty feet ahead 1 saw tli red glare of a lantern and cc uld trac tlie outline of a caboose. I knew a though I could hear only the noise o my own train, that the one ahead wa moving, but we were gain tug on it. whistled for ‘down brakes,’ reverse tlie lever, and jumped to tlie ground As 1 was leaving the cab 1 saw my fire man grab tlie shovel aud begin to pil in the coal. My locomotive caught tti caboose aud lifted it from the track but stopped before serious damage wa done. When we had straightened ou I asked tlie fireman what made him pu in coal when I blew tlie whistle. U jabers,’ was the reply, ‘I thought it stheam wad help you to start, tliii shure ye wad nade some to sthop. The Fighting Slav. There is no race of men so dangerou: as tlie lighting Slav, the Montenegrin, the Bosnian, Herzegovinian, the Croat Austria knows too bitterly what a ter rible antagonist is the civilized Dalma tian when he takes up arms. If thes< wilder people ever had a character re seiubling the Russ audSerband Bulgar circumstances have transformed them The contrast now is striking. Quid of iutelligenee but stubborn, cunninj though fearless, patient though excita hie, the mountain IS lav is a very iucar nation of man, tlie perfected wild beast Under a mass ot soldierly frankness In is perversely treacherous, as a rule, bu also he is bound to the death by his owr shibboleths if oue knew them. Fit’ does not move him: his braiu is coo’ while lus passions blaze to madness And he has tlie physical advantage! which give his character full play Generally tall, often gigantic, he is al ways strong, for none but tiie vigorou: survive. His features are handsome his eyes, of palish blue or amber yellow have the keen look fitting to a warrior A long, fair mustache upcurled hide; his stern mouth; his bearing is martial aud iris stride full of arrogaut seif-cou fideuce. Though rough with iris tel lews, a man of the upper class is superb ly courteous to tire stranger. And i manly costume sets off every advant qje. Jaiuen Gordon Beauett’s Superstition. Mr. and Mrs. John Jacob Astor, of New York, have arrived at their summer rettdeuue, Newport. It is one of the most charming and extensive estates on the island. Mr. James Gordon Ben nett, of tiie New York Herald, thought seriously at one time of porouasing the place, bnt superstition prevented. There appeared to he a strange fatality with the people who owned the place. Barreda. the Peruvian Minister, built it regardless of expense, and lived to see the day when he wanted a dollar, Tue two suoeeediag owners became im poverished to some extent, Mr. A. D. Jessup, of Philadelphia, bought the place for $100,000, aud in a year more than doubled his money, disposing of it to John Jacob Astor for $201,000. Then Mr. Jessup went to Europe, and while at Cheltenham Railway Station, in Eng land, took np a London paper, read the account of President Garfield’s assassin ation, and dropped dead. Fneuds of Mr. Bennett declare that it was super stition alone that impelled him to re fuse to purchase the place, Mrs. Astor is making it a more beautiful place every year.