The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, August 11, 1883, Image 1
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.