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« 1 TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. HALF WAY. Have you forgotten where we stood, Between the lights, that night of spring, The river rolling to the flood, Bo sad the birds, they dared not sing ? No love was ever dream'd like this, Beneath the shadows of the park, Beneath a whisper and a kiss, Between the daylight and the dark. There had been trouble—this was rest; There had hern passion—this was peace ; The sunset dying in the west Made Nature sigh and whispers cease. I only felt what I had found, ' You only knew what I would say. But nothing btoke the peace profound Between the darkness and the day. How will it end ? I cannot tell; 1 asked it many months ago, Before the leaves of autumn fell And changed to winter’s waste of snow. Yet we stand watching at the gate Of summer time for promise—hark! No, love, ’tis nothing 1 We must wait Between the daylight and the dark. HEK COUSIN. A lane as green as emeral, and as soft to the feet as velvet. Wild roses in Ifcnt bloom, almost hiding the K gh stone wall which bounded it on either side; brilliant-hued wild flowers vied with them in beauty; and to add to the charm of the rural scene the sky was free trom even a passing cloud. An old woman who evidently belong ed to the peasant class, and a child whom she carried laboriously within her aims, were the sole human beings with in sight, although the wild denizens of the four-footed kind abounded. Rabbits, secure from molestation by law, so as to be kept for the rightful owner’s slaying during the hunting sea son, which was even then beginning, squirrels and chipmunks vied in their noisy chattering with the feathered songsters, and if not so musical, suc ceeded in producing as much sound; and mingling as it all did in Nature’s vast chorus, tilled out the chord of har mony even as the rasping voices of some of the inferior instruments supply certain tones to a trained orchestra. “Here, darlint; we’ll jist occupy this purty place for awhile. Old Bridget’s arms are that tired it seems as though they’d break off entirely. How’s the wake little back now?” “It aches, Bridget; but I don’t mind, now that we’ve got such a nice place. I’ll lie here under the big tree, and see if I can’t catch a sight of the same cun ning bright-eyed little squirrel I was watching so long the last day we were here.” “That’s a swate girl, ^ be so nice and contkit-like. I’ll sitw liMu Jieyant yez on that stump, where the light’ll be better for my old eyes, and knit on the stocking I’ve started to keep your wake little feet warm when the frost comes by-and-by.” Ellen Connell looked up into Bridget’s timeworn face with a grateful bright ness in her great Irish-blue eyes. “What makes you so good to me, Bridget, when you are so cross to your own grandchildren—Teddy and Kitty?” “Bure, Miss Ellen,” said Bridget, brushing a tear away as she spoke, “they are so strong and well, and hasn’t the Lord afllicted you? And thin, too, when the mistress died, bless her swate soul, didn’t she say to me with her last breath, ‘Bridget, take care of my child. Bhe will have no one to protect her own blood, and there’s a promise in the Bible for those who take care of even one of the Lord’s little ones. And I tould her as quick as 1 could spake foj the crying; ‘Bure, and I’ll take care of Miss Ellen for the love of you and of her, and not for what it might bring me.’ and with that she shut her eyes and dropped off to sleep and niver again woke up.” The child had listened eagerly as Bridget spoke, and when the soiud of her voice ceased she leaned her head against the tree whose majestic branch es shut out the glare of the sun from her eyes. But she did not remain silent very long. “Bridget, tell me again of my moth er. I could hear you talk about her for ever.” “But it’s the one thing I have to tell, Alanna; and that is that she was the purtiest lady I ever laid my eyes on, and that she was as delicate as the posy on that wall.” Before the words had fairly left her lips a sound of trampling hoofs struck on the ear, and a magnificent thorough bred bore his master over the wall, just escaping the stump upon which Bridget was sittiug. Ellen gave a frightened cry and sank back in a faint. The young huntsman lost no time in dismounting and trying to repair the damage he had thus unwittingly done. He caught Ellen up in his arms and carried her to a spot not far distant, where the clear waters of a rippling streamlet babbled cheerily on over its pebbly bed. Until that moment Harold Lancaster had been indifferent to womanly beau ty, although having a keen eye for the tine points of a favorite horse or hound. Girls had been avoided by him from babyhood up to his present height of six-foot-ene. But as he gazed down at the white still face lying against his breast he was struck by its exceeding reflnemeut and wonderful, classic love liness. He bent and dipped his band in the cool water and dastnxi some of it in her face. By this time Budget had reach ed the spot. “Give the poor murtbered lamb to me,” sue said sharply, “and ye’d best mind where ye're after jumping yer quadrupid the next time.” “I’m sorry, my good woman, and I hope my carelessness will not do any lasting harm. The child is only in a faint from fright. Bee, she is opening her eyes now. Do you feel better, little girl?” Ellen looked up at him wonderingly for an instant, then thought of what bad happened, and understood why she was in the arms of the young gentle man. “I must have frightened you as much as you did me,” she said with a smile, but her trembling voice contradictea her attempt to make light of her feel WINNSBORO. S. 0. OCTOBER 6. 1883. ESTABLISHED 1848 ings, and Harold felt himself a great sinner at having so alarmed her. “1 am a stranger in the country,” he hastened to say, “and have come to make its acquaintance, as I have an es tate here.” Bridget’s face, lost its sour reproving expression as a thought came to her mind. “Bure, sir, if it isn’t too bold, may I ask if you’re the laid who’s lately come into the ownership of Castle Flynn!” “That’s the name of my place.” “Then you’re the own cousin twice removed on the mother’s side of that same little child ye’ve got in your arms. Look up, Alleen, and make the acquaint ance of yer cousin.” \ Ellen had wholly recovered by this time, and she slid shyly down from Harold’s arms, and sheltered herself by Bridget’s ample figure. As she stood thus the slight curva ture of her spine was made visible, and Harold’s admiration was changed to an intenser feeling—that of pity for the beautiful child’s Affliction. “I hope we shall be better acquaint ed,’- he said to Ellen, “and I shall soon be riding this way again, and will come to see you, if you’ll tell me where you live.” Then he turned to Bridget: “Come up to the Castle this evening, I would like to ask you some questions about the place and the people.” His hunter had been standing quietly on the spot where his master had left him, after simply throwing the bridle rein over his arching neck. Now, how ever, as Harold approached him, he laid back his ears, and gave vent to a restless whinny which showed how im patient he was growing to be off. Harold patted him, and said a few soothing words as he mounted. The intelligent animal answered him with another low whinny, and darted off like the wind, followed by Ellen’s admiring eyes. “Lord save uel” ejaculated Bridget, crossing herself reverently; “if that beast doesn’t prove the death of that fine boy before he is done with him!” But Ellen said with a little air of pride: “Never fear, Bridget. One can see that my cousin is born to the saddle, and oh. how grand and noble he is!” “And he’s a civil nice-spoken young gentleman, too, worthy to be a landed Irish nobleman, though poor lad, he’s come into a barren enough place; for what good is a castle without money to keep it up? and Lord Lansfels ran through his fortune as though it had been wather to pour into the street.” But Harold had been born, as the saying is, “with a gold spoon in hie mouth,” and out of his full coffers he soon made Castle Flynn look like a dif ferent place. It seemed like a dream of fairy land to Ellen, when summer came, and she was invited to visit at the castle during the whole time Harold’s mother was staying there. Bhe was a widow, and Harold was her only child; and as he had taken such a fancy to his young cousin, she was unsparing of trouble to give Her all the pleasure site could wish during her stay. “What a pity it is that the poor thing is deformed,” she said to her son one day. “She would be a perfect type of a beautiful Irish girl if she only had a straight back.” “I don't think any girl I’ve ever seen can compare with Ellen now,” said Harold, “but 1 think that trouble can be reached, mother. Don’t you remem- ber that eminent surgeon whom we met in London last month? He told of cases he had cured that were far worse than what Ellen’s appears to be.” “Yes, 1 remember something about it. Wasn’t it about making his patients into plaster casts?” “Hardly that, mother mine,” laugh ed Harold, “but you have hit on one of the component parts of his method of cure. I wonder if we could get him to come down into our mild summer home. He meant to remain abroad several months, but it isn’t likely he has gone yet.” “Money generally will command a professional man’s service, Harold. 1 don’t imagine you will find any difficul ty in securing him.” “I’d be willing to spend any amount to make Cousin Ellen a thoroughly strong healthy woman,” said Harold earn ally. And if his mother felt a momentary pang as she detected Harold’s intense interest in Ellen, she was a sensible wo- mau and stifled it at once. “I will do all I can to help,” she said, and Harold’s kiss and answering words repaid her. “Tliank you, mother, I knew you would You are the kindest and best of all the mothers in the world,” he said. But when he sought out the great surgeon, he found that the moving spring of his mind was not the idea of gain. At first he declined to accompany him home in such a decided manner that Harold’s heart grew heavy with disap pointment. But as a last chance of moving him, frying all the other argu ments he could think of, he threw him self upon his mercy, “Doctor.” he said; “I will tell you a secret. I love the girl whom I want to put under your care. If you don’t go home with me and try to cure her, I have no hope left for the future If Ellen dies, my heart will die too. Have pity and try to save her.” “But you have none of the appliances I shall need, and I don’t want to make a botch of my work. If 1 did, man, all the doctors in England would be hold ing me up to ridicule.” “No one shall know a thing about it. unless you choose to tell them,” urged Harold; and his eager importunity at last won the day. The surgeon accom panied him to Ireland. Ellen’s case waa pronounced one that could be cured, and she was at once put under treatment, and eventually /'hov ered. Then there was a grand wedding at Castle Flynn, and, the bride was pro nounced to be the most graceful and beautiful of any of the brilliant company of ladies who had come to honor the nuptials with their presence. Harold too came in for his share of admiration and praise among the warm- hearted people. And you may be sure that tue tenants upon his estate are not to be numbered among those disaffected ones who are making that lovely green island a scene of violence and of desolation. With him “justice is tempered with mercy,” and a good landlord makes a good tenantry. Ruby’* Sorrow. “I wish I were dead, so there!” And Ruby Brown stood the picture of lovely despair, gazing down at a yellow mass at her feet, consisting of six dozen crushed eggs. Poor Ruby had been a whole month saving and hoarding these treasures which were to play an important part in the purchase of a lovely “Easter bonnet,” Aunt Emily had contempt uously called it, when Ruby had said in a pleading tone, “But, auntie, all the girls are going to have pretty new hats to wear on Easter Sunday. ” “Easter bonnets, indeed!” snapped Aunt Emily. ‘‘Girls in my time didn’t think eternally about bonnets; and Easter Sunday wasn’t made a show-day for bonnets, either.” “If I could have the eggs, auntie,” pleaded Ruby, ignoring her last re marks. “Well, take ’em; I don’t care, if you can save enough ’tween now and then. You’ll have to have a bonnet at any rate shortly after Easter.” Ruby ran Joyfully out into the coop to gather the first instalment, after giving Aunt Emily an affectionate little hug. “That child always gets the best of me,” smiled the spinster Aunt, grimly —who had been mother and aunt for many years, nearly eighteen now, since her dearest and youngest sister had died. No one knew whatever had be come of gay, wild, dissipated Will Brown, Ruby’s father, whom people said had once been Emily’s lover, and who had deserted her for the younger sister, pretty Helen. The eventful morning had come on which Ruby’s eggs were to be disposed of. Blithely and gaily she started forth, a neat willow basket on her arm, her eyes shining like twin stars, and cheeks rivaling summer roses. A stray robin chirped dubiously over-head in the budding, but leafless trees, and visions of the “Easter hat” floated before Ruby’s vision, with which the young curate, who had just been settled at the “Caworth village” church, should be ensnared; for all the girls, Aunt Emily said, “were casting sheep’s eyes that way.” Ruby tripped along in the crisp March air, satisfied with herself and the whole world, when, alas! for human hopes and joys how fleeting, Ruby caught her foot in some tangled weeds, and fell headlong upon her precious basket of eggs, and for a mo ment felt as if the whole world had crushed all the joy and happiness out of her young heart and life. In her great sorrow she gave vent to the ejac ulation, “I wish I was dead!” as she slowly arose from the ruins of all her (eggs) hopes. “Gan 1 be of any assistance?” asked someone behind her. Ruby started and looked around, to encounter the amused smile on the young curate’s face. “I hardly think anyone can remedy this disaster,” stammered Ruby, dis mally viewing the mass at their feet. “Eggsactly,” laughed Mr. Howard. “Don’t laugh!” said Ruby, suddenly bursting into tears. “Don’t cry, 1 beg. I will try not to laugh,” he said, anxiously.- “How foolish 1 am,” said Ruby, bravely trying to smile; “but I have lost my Easter hat.” “Your Easter hat?” he asked, a little non-plussed. “Yes. “With those eggs I should have bought it!” sighed Ruby. “Hem! Well, is it absolutely neces sary to have Easter hats, Miss Brown?” “Oh, no!” “Btill, everyone does, you know,” said Ruby, gravely. “No. I did not know it before. Do you not think you could enjoy Easter without a uew hat, Miss Brown?” he asked, looking into the sweet face searchlngly. “Oh, yes, I could,” replied Ruby, blushing rosily. I think I have been a little vain, and I am punished in this way.” And Buby laughed quite merrily. “Not one left to tell the tale,” he answered, joining in her laughter. “Only on my dress and mantel,” laughingly said Ruby; “that will tell all.” “Allow me to remove a few flecks from your hair.” And he bent forward with a dainty cambric handkerchief, removing the golden spots from the soft, curling brown hair; both faces had taken on an added hue of pink. “May I walk back with you?” he asked a little eagerly, as she turned to go home, aftdr their united efforts to clean the basket which they partially succeeded in doing. Permission was shyly given, and soon they were chatting like old friends, and Ruth was surprised that she felt no greater disappointment in the loss of her “Easter hat.” Ruby went to church on “Easter Sunday” with her winter’s hat, and the Rev. Clinton Howard thought the face so sweet and good beneath it, that all the new “Easter hats” sank into insignificance in contrast; but Ruby looked arcund at the pretty sprays of rose-buds, mignonette, violets, and pan sies, and could not help but feel a little pang of envy. How could she know that the young curate was not admiring the pretty faces so sweetly adorned? And how could she know that while the organ sent forth its grandest music, the thought had come to him that an other Easter Ruby Brown should wear an “Easter hat,” and it should be bri dal white. Tmi sting of the bee is only one thirty second of an inch long. It is only your imagination that makes It seem aa long as a hoe hanaja Anenlaal Appetite*. “Do women really use arsenic for the purpose of beautifying their complex • ions?" a prominent druggist was asked. “Oh, yes, they do,” he said, “though perhaps not as much as they seem to use it in New York and Pans, judging from printed or oral reports. I sell quite a deal of arsenic, but compara tively very little of it for the purpose named by you. Xbu see, arsenic is an excellent alterative; it purifies the blood and dears the skin. But all reliable down-town druggist! do not dispense it in its most dangerous form upon a physician’s prescription. Most of what I sell goes to* remove vestiges of blood disease.” Not far away from this one another druggist was fouud, whose custom was of a different kind.' “Why, bless you,” he remarked, I have a regular clientage of women who use arsenic to enhance their good looks. Most of them are fast, to be sure, but there is a sprink ling of i rofessiouai ladies and society belles among them, who come in here to purchase the stuff wheu they are out shopping. • In that way they avoid the suspicion of the men, they think. But that’s all nonsense oeciuse a regular devotee of arsenic can be picked oat of a crowd. Their complexion is of a dazz ling white hue, almost marble white, and not a vestige of color remains in the face. Once know the symptoms, aud you can always tell aisenic eaters at a glance. They are not all women, thongh. There are more men among them. Actors and singers, and, such persons whose popularity depends to a great extent upon their good looks, fre quently are ealb rs of arsenic. Very few men there are who have not some blemishes in their complexion, and this poison remedies that defect. I guess tne fact that most actors aud singers are apt to drink hard occasionally has some thing to do with it, because the arsenic removes all traces of reckless indulgence in liquor from their faces. One man I know of in this city for a certainty to be a habitual arsenic eater. He is a looker quite haudsome, and a great favorite with ladies. I met him in a car and wfien I looked at him and noticed the peculiar pidlor of his features I won dered if his female admirers ever sus pected how it was brought about. “Actresses, I presume, are quite fre quently eaters of arsenic. At least, 1 know of a few myself who do use it By them it is generally taken in its pure state, but m minute doses, of course. The quantity has to bo gradually and a tea diiy increased, however, to effect what it is taken fbx. Inside of a few months of nnintesiipted use the devotee of this deadly drug may swallow with impunity a dose of it which would kill a person unused to it inside of a few hours. The effects of the poison are most per nicious, It enfeebles the whole system and predisposes to serious disease, so that such persons are much less able to cope with sickness when it comes than others. Bat, for all that, what woman would stop to think of that onoe she knows that arsenic will make her more beautiful and will not directly injure her if care is exercised? There is another poison which some women make use of to heighten their charms, aud is bella donna. The very name of it, meaning * • beau tiful lady, ” is suggestive. This is also taken internally—a few drops at a time—and its effects are to dilate the pupil of the eye, to make the eye more brilliant, and to give it a full aud lust rous appearance such as very few eyes have in their natural state. Extreme care must be taken, thongh, for if the dose is only a trifle too large serious re sults may follow, even blindness, spasms, and other dangerous symp toms.” Another veteran in the drug business was found. “I sell most of arsenic in its prepared state known as Fowler’s Solution, which is the arsenite of potas sium. That is not expensive, for it only costs ten cents an ounce, and teu to twenty drops suffice for a dose. Physi cians prescribe it for all kinds of skin troubles, for which it is a specific. Many people who are troubled with pimples, for instance, begin to take it, and, finding that it has a very good ef fect on the skin, they continue its use after the original trouble uo longer ex ists. The solut on is also used for all mauner of nervous diseases, because it acts directly ou the nervous system. But that u not what you want to know. Well, for the beautifying purposes, our sale ol arsenic in every shape is very small. I don’t thiuk we sell over a pint a jear for tkat, outside of regular phy sicians’ prescriptions. Whether doctors will humor their fefeale patients to that extent that they give them permission to use aiSenic, and then make out pre scriptions for them, is moie than I know. It’s not nulikely at any rate. I only know of about a dozen of our cus tomers who use arsenic for the purpose mentioned. The common arsenic we do not give everybody, to be sure, uu- less we kuow who she is. But Fowler’s Solution we sell to every one who ?■ not drunk at the time, and pays for it. The trouble with all those who use arsenic iu every shape is that they ifiust go ou using it ami increasing the dose. As soon as they give it np they become dabby aud ail broken up. You can al most always tell those people by their unearthly, deathly white faces, which at the same time are well rounded, aud iu which uo trace of the ruddy hue of health is to be discovered. Belladonna is used but very sparingly by the ladies. It is used as a tincture, aud but a few drops at a time. The effect of it is to make th» eyes look more brilliaut.’* “And what do you know about the use of arsenic as a beautifier?” a promi nent druggist was asked. “There are not many who use it of those that I kuow,” answered he. ‘It takes the color entirely oat of the face aud gives them that deathlike, marble paleneis which is admired by a great many men. When used in this way it is generally taken in the form of ar senic pills, which are put up in boxes and in sizes varying fr jin 1 25, 1 SO and 160 grains in each pul. Taken in Fowler's Solution it will act similarly, purifying the blood and clearing the complexion. It is by beginning with this solution that moat of the arsenic eaters acquire aud confirm the habit. There are all kinds of people among the arsenic eaters—society belles, sporting women, professional men and women. 1 remember an actor, a great favorite, now dead, whose complexion was of this peculiar pallor. He must have been a regular arsenic eater. .Often I meet persons in the oars or on the street, and when I see them I say to myself that they are using this poison. It is so singular iu its effects that it is hardly posaible to mistake them. There is an other class of people who get into the arsenic habit in quit? a different way. I mean hard drinkers. When a man has been on a protracted spree, and has got his nose painted and his face as red as a peony, all he’s got to do is to stop drinking and nse Fowler’s Solution, and his cheeks nose and fore head will get as milky white as those of a baby. People who drink on the sly, such aa book-keepers or others occupy ing positions of trust, often resort to this stratagem. The arsenic proper is on a physician’s prescription. Borne people come in here aud pretend they want it to kill rats with, or some similar purpose, but the druggist will not sell it to them, because, eveu though they speak the truth, they are too liable to be oareless, and somebody may get poisoned by mistaking it for some inno cent powder. Belladonna is used by society ladies ou particular occasious. For instance, when they intend going to some evening party and desire to shine there to make a good impression on somebody, they will take a small dose of the tincture of belladonna, caus ing the eye to assume that full, large appearance that is very bewitchiug for a certain type of beauty. Nobody gets into the habit of taking belladonna for this purpose, however, because it regu larly taken, it would dilate the pupil so much as to cause blmduess, convul sions, etc. There are a few oases on reoord where ladies have injured their eyes permanently iu this way, by tak- iug a larger dose than they ought. You kuow that belladonna is a very strong poison, sleepy and visionary in its ef fects, and somewhat similar to opium, besides producing syncope and spasms.” The (slant Ran. The largest string of logs ever made into a raft was towed into: the Erie Basin, south Brooklyn. The raft is 1,- 200 feet long, 24 feet wide, and 12 feet deep. It is composed of 11 sections, each of which contains about 500 logs, ranging in size from the diameter of a wagon wheel down to that of a tele- ;;aph pole. The logs are piled into mge bundles and strapped together with chains strong enough to tow the Great Eastern. These sections were placed in a string and fastened with a strong hawser to the Cyclops, which was itself fastened to the Haviland. Each vessel had its own master, (’apt. Ellis having charge of the Cyclope, and Capt. Gaily of the Haviland, while the entire expedition was piloted and man aged by Capt. Rufus Patterson, of St. John, New Brunswick, the veteran skipper of the Province. The logs were bought by Mr. James Murry, of No. 20 Burling-slip, in New-Brunswick early this Summer. The distance which they were towed is 650 miles, as the freight would have beeu very heavy. Mr. Murray accordingly consulted with Capt. C. C. Ellis, of No. 60 South street, a brother of the master of the Cyclops, who undertook to tow the raft to New York, at a saving of 50 per cent, in freight rates. The raft was constructed, and ou Aug. 7 was started from the harbor of St. John. The trip was made without serious accident. The first three days were as calm as could be desired, but on the fourth day Capt. Patterson was obliged to seek shelter in Booth’s Bay, where the raft was detained for three days. Pleasant weather was experienced after the storm until Newport was reached, ou last Thursday uiglit, when a strong gale separated the crib attached to the Cyclops from the remainder of the string, which was sent adrift. This was a serious predicament, aud the raft was in great danger of going to pieces on the beach at a loss of many thousands of dollars. The Haviland was imme diately detached and sent to the rescue of the lost raft, and in the morning the two vessels came together with their charges aud resumed their original positions, which were maintained dur ing the remainder of the voyage. The passage through Hell Gate was easily accomplished. Baud’s Point was pass ed without any difficulty, and at 6 o’clock yesterday morning tiie great raft was securely anchored iu the Erie Basin, where it will remain until it can be disposed of. Leisure to be a Klug. It is a question whether we can fairly or honorably plead that we have no time io attend to duties. Our pleas ures may be crowded out, our plans for advancement or money-getting may not find sufficient time for their fulfill ment; but if we have not time to fulfil the duties to others that our place in life deuiands something is wrong. Either we aie doing too much needless work or we are trying to do work tiiat justly belongs to others. It Is told of Philip of Macedon that a poor old wo man came to his place many times in vain to ask redress for wrongs that had beeu done. After many attempts siie obtained an audience with the King, only to be rebuffed by him, as she had been by his attendants. “I am not at leisure to hear you,” he replied, abruptly, wheu she began her story. ‘No?” was her exclamation; “then you are not at leisure to be a King.” This view of the matter quite cou- founded the King. A few moments he thought upou it iu silence. Then he told the old woman to go on with her case, heard hei to the end, and then gave orders that those who had wronged her should be punished, and* restitution made to her. And ever after this he made it a point to listen to all applica tions brought before him, repeating to his courtiers, who objected to his troubling himself, the lesson that the poor woman had taught him—that if he was not at leisure to hear the plea of his humblest subject he was uot at leisure to bea King, The City Ulrl on Horseback. Bpending the summer In a remote coun try place, she la tempted daily by a thou sand shady lanes and by-ways, to learn to ride on horseback. On the eventful day ou winch she makes her first attempt our young lady stands before her glass, con templating with considerable satisfaction the braid and buttona adorning her tnm figure, and the soft felt hat, whose long plume droops against her hair. Bhe tip toes about a little, putting a curl or so into place, gathering over her arm the folds of the long skirts she wears, and lashing the toe of her paitcr boot with a nding-whip She even in the privacy of her chamber, perches sidewise on the arm of a big easy chair, and energetically whips up the foot stool, viewing the effects in the mirror from the corner of her eye. At last some one cries from the hall below that the horses have come, and she hastens down stairs. Bhe stumbles once or twice on the way, and at the last step catches her foot in her dress and plunges headlong, only rescued from a fall by one of the members of the household, who is, of course, pres ent to see her off. Regaining her balance, she advances mure cautiously and inspects her steed. Bbe is not wholly satisfied. It is true that she requested a quiet animal, but there are degrees of quietness, aud she would have beeu content to stop short of absolute dejection. She conceals her dissappointmeut, how ever, and wonders how she is to get ou the animal’* back. The good-natured stable man, who is to accompany her, has dis mounted, but does not show the slightest intention of offering his hand for her to put her foot iu, according to all traditions of the courtesies of horsemanship. There is a pause. Some one suggests that she better have a stool. Her soul revolts at the thought. Nevertheless the s'ool is brought, and from its summit she makes a desperate leap for the saddle, fully ex pecting to fall over the other side. A clutch at the mane of the steed saves her, however, and in another moment they are off. Her sensations are peculiar. She never knew before that a horse was so tall. How very tall the animal is! She was not aware that be bad such a longitude of backbone, or that it ueaved so when he walked. She has not long to reflect on those marvels, for presently her compan ion chirrups, and the animal she ia on starts into a trot. She gasps, clutches her s iddle and bids good bye to earth. When s ie returns to her country home an hour later, she is pale but effusively cheerful, and tells her friends it was “perfectly lovely, but she thinks she shall like it bet ter when she is used to it.” The next d<y she spends upon the sofa in the house with a novel, and sbe smiles a faint but bitter smile when she reads that the heroine of the novel “touched her black mare lightly with the whip, and took a five- barred gate with the fearless ease of a practical horseman.” The Great Volcano Eruption. Both the great earthquake iu the is land of Ischia, at the end of July, and the extraordinary and still more de structive voioauic eruption which has just overwhelmed the Island of Java, as fully described in the New York Sun, occurred in a well-recognized focus of volcanic foroea. Ischia is only a few miles from Vesuvius, with which it is connected by a chain of small volcanoes and in the part of the Mediterranean Sea are J2:na, Stromboli, and other famous volcanoes. Java lies near the focus of the greatest voioauic system on the globe, amid a perfect nest of vol canoes, there being no less than forty- five craters on the island of Java itself. The evidence given by these two out bursts, therefore, taken in connection with that recently furnished by similar, though less destructive, disturbances in other quarters of the earth, shows that there is at present extraordinary activi ty in the earth’s interior, which is mani fested at all. or nearly all, the vents by which these pent-np forces ordinarily escape. To show how widespread this internal disturbance is, it is only neces sary to recall the fact that within six months there have been extraordinary voleanio eruptious or earthquakes in almost every quarter of the glolie, Iu Japan a new volcano has been formed; in Central America an old volcano, sup posed for centuries to be extiuot, has suddenly burnt into eruption; iu South America Cotopaxi has melted the accu mulated suow ou its lofty cone, and be gan to seed forth fire and ashes; in Europe the giant AiLna has recently partly roused itself to activity, aud since the disaster at Ischia, Vesuvius has been giving indications of an im pending eruption. But in the intensity of action displayed none of these out bursts can compare with the great Javan eruption. The focus of the vol canic system to which the Javan craters elong is supposed to lie between the islands of Borneo and New Guinea, con siderably to the east of Java, and from this focus four principal fissures in the earth’s crust are supposed to extend, one reaching to Kamsohatka, another to the Antarctic onole, a third running through the islands east of New Guinea, and the fourth extending lengthwise across Java. There seems to be no doubt that on the present occasion the voleanio forces began to manifest them selves near the western extremity of the Javan fissure and advanced toward the focus. This is a very interesting fact, especially since it is known that activity was manifested last winter in the northern branch or fidsnre of this vol canic system, a new volcano being formed in Japan. So far there has been no disturbance near the focus itself. An Kxcltlog Sturm. The keeper of the light at Montauk Point says he often has to go outside the lantern, 190 feet t bove the booming surf, in stormy winter nights, and with a stiff broom clear off the rapidly gath ering snow that sticks to the glass ‘You call this an exciting stoml” he said to a summer visitor; if you want to know what a storm is. you should be up here on a winter night, when we have a hard one I Then, sometimes, the solid tower itself shakes as if it were a frame structure, and the roar of the storm is like a menagerie of wild beastsi” THE VERDICT -or- THE PEOPLE BUY THE BEST I Mb. J. O. Boao—Dear sir: I bought tne nrst Davla Machine sold by you over five yeara ago tur my wife, who haa given It a long and fair trial. I am well pleased with it It never Rive* any rouble, and la aa good aa when first bought. J. W. soucc. Wlnnaboro, S. C., April 1*13. Mr. Boaq: Ton wish to know what T have to aay In regard to the Da via Machine bought of you three years ago. I feel 1 can’t say too much In Its favor. I made about *eo,oo within five months, at times running it so fast that the needle would get per fectly hot from friction. I feel confident I could not have done the same work with aa much ease and so well with any other machine. No time leat in adjusting attachments. The lightest running machine I have ever treadled. Brother James aud Williams’ families are as much pleased with then Davis Macbinea bought ot you. I want no better machine. As I said before, I don’t think too much can be said for the Davis Machine. Respectfully, Eu.en stkvbnsok, Fairfield County, April, 1SS3. 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 Davis Vertical Feed. Respectfully. _ . Mas. H. Mii.UNO. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. Boao: l'bought a navis Vertical Feed ewmg Machine from yon four years ago. 1 am elighted with it. It never as a giveu me any rouble, and has never beeu the least out of order. It I* as good as when 1 first bought it. I can cheerfully recommend It. Respectfully, Mrs. M. J. Kirkland. Montlcello, April 80, 1883. This is to certify that I have been using a Davis Vertic.il Feed Sewing Machine for over two years, purchased of Mr. J. o. Boag. I haven’t found 11 possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so simple. It nevenefuses to work, and la certainly the lightest running In the market. I consider it a first class machine. Very respectfully.. Minnik M. Willinobam. Oakland, Fairfield county, S. O. Mr Boa9: lamweupieaseif meveryparttcui with the Davis Machine nought of you. I think a first-class machine In every respect. You knew you sold several machines of the same make to different members of our families, all of whom, as far as I know, are well pleased with them. Respectfully, Mrs. M. H. Moblit. Fairfield connty, April, 1883. This Isto certiry we nave nsd 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 la always ready to do any kind of work we nave to do. No puckering or skipping stitches. We can only aay we are well pleased and wish no better machine, Cathikink Wylik and aiSTSR. April US, 1888. I have no fault to and with my machine, and don’t want any iietter. I have made tne price of It severe times by taking In sewing. It Is slwsys ready to do its work. I think It s first-class me chine. I feel I can t aay too much for the Davu Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs. Thomas smith. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. J. O. Boao—Dear Sir i It gives me much pleasure to testify to the merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of yon about five years ago. baa been almost In con stant use ever since that lime. I cannot see that It is worn any, and has not cost me one cent for repairs slnon we nave had It. Am well pleased and don’t wish tor any better. Yours truly, Rost. Crawford, Granite quarry, near Wtnnsboro S. C. We have nsed the Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for the last five years. We would not have any other make at any price. The machine has given us nubonudea satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mss. W. K. Tdknir and DAOOHTMS; Fairfield county, 8. C„ Jan. Si, 1*88. Having bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. O. Boag some three years ago, and It having 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, i can cheerfully recommend it to any one as a first-class machine In every particu lar, and think It second to none. It la one ot the simplest machines made; my children use It wltn all ease. The attachments are more easily ad justed and It doei a greater range of work by means of iu Vertical r eed than any other ma chine I have ever seen or used. Mrs. Thomas Owinos. Wlnnaboro, Fairfield county, 8. C. We have had one of the Davis Machines about four years and have always found it ready to do all kinds of work we have bad occasion to da Can’t see that the machine Is worn any, and works as well as when new. Mbs. W. J. Crawford, Jackson’s Creek, Fairfield counir. 8. C. My wife Is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chine bough, of you. She would not take double what she gave for It. The machine has not been out of order since she had It, and she can do any kind of work on it. Very Respectfully, Jab. F. Frhk. Montlcello, Fairfield county, S. C. The Davis Sewing Machine la simply a treas ure Mrs. J. a. uoodwtn. Ridgeway, N. C., Jan. 10. 1883. J.O Boao, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife has ueen using a Davis Sewing Machine constant ly for the past four years, and it has never needed any repairs and works Just as well as when first bought She says It wUl do a greater range of practical work »nd do it easier and befier than any machine sbe nas ever used. We cheerfully recommend It as a Na 1 family machine. Your tru.y, Jas. Q. Davis. Wlnnaboro, S. C„ Jan. S, 1888. Mr. Boao : I have always fonnd my Davis Ma chine ready do all kinds of to work 1 have had oc casion to do. I cannot see that the machine Is worn a particle aud It works as wed as when c^w. Respectfully, Mbs. R. C. Uoodino. Wlnnaboro, 8. C., April. l*S3 v Mr. Boao : My wife haa been constantly using the Davis Machine bought of yon about ttve years mo. I have never regretted baying It, as it W always ready for any kind of family sewing, either neavy or light It Is never out of fix or needing repairs. '"’'“‘Tttw Fairfield, 3. C., March, 1888.