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r i \ / i. a/ j 01 r .rl TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. 8. 0.. DECEMBER 11.1883. ESTABLISHED 1848. THE VERDICT LOOK UP. Look op, don’t turn your ward; thoughts down- -or- .4.4/ ‘THE'PEOPLE. All things thai grow out of the earth Beach upward toward the heavens, As thanking the Lord for their birth. r Look up to the pines in their beauty,— IFhe oaks in their strength standing iirm; They stretch their limbs upward and on ward. Though shaken by many a storm. While the winds chanting solemnly through them, But speak this grand truth unto thee: Look up, for the life dwelling in you Will reach to eternity. Ms. J. O. Boaq —Dear Sir: I bougfit trie trst Davis Machine sold by you over five years ago for my wife, who has given it a long and fair trial. I am well pleased with It. It never gives any rouble, and is as good as when arst bought. J. W. DOLIOK. Wlnnsboro, S.C., April 1838. Mr. Boao: Von wish to know wnat 1 have to say In regard to tie Daria Machine bought of you three reus ago. Keel i«ant say too mdbh in ns favor. I made about 880,00 within five months, at times running it so fast that the needle would get per- ■ il I could men ease time im rannlgw sines awn Williams’ families are as much pleased with their Dana Machines bought of you. I want no better machine. As I said before, Xdon’t think too much can be said for the Davis Machine. Kespectfully, Ellen Stevenson, Fairfield County, April, 1881 up tho X Mb. Boao ; My machine gives me perfect satis faction. 1 dnd no fault with It. The attachments are so simple, i wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Feed. • i . Hespectfully. Mss. R. Milling. Falrfleld county, April, 1883. Ms. Boao: 1 nought a Jiavis vertical Feed wing Machine from yon four years ago. lam lighted with it. it never has given me any o. uole, and has never been the least out of order, t' is as good as Vhen'l lint bought H. roan cheerfully recommend It. Kespectfully, Mia. M. J. Kirkland. Monticelio, Apti) 30, 1883. t This u to cartity that I nave been using a Dans Verticil Feed Sewing Machine for over tw lyetrs, purchased of Mr. J. o. Boag. I haven’t found 11 possessed of any fault—all the attachments are so simple. It never refuses to wont, and is certainly ths lightest running in the market. I consider it a first class maculae. With thoughts pure and holy and strong; Beach up and lay hold of the mountains, They will sing you a nobler song. They will tell of the mighty endeavors Which men with their thinking have wrought; They will tell of the use and the beauty, The strength and the glory of thought. Look up to the stars in their brightness,— Don’t turn back again to the clod; There are powers lying dormant within .you, Throngh Which you can lay hold of God. m THE WIFE’S SURPRISE. i Oakland, Fair tfully, nnie M. nty. S. O. Wh.linoban. Mr Boau : i a n wen pleased in every particm with the navis Machine nought of you. i tutus a first-class macaine In every respect. You kne jv you sold several machines of the same make to different members of our families, all of wuom, as far aa I know, are well pleased with tnem. Kespectfully, „ Mrs. M. H. Mobi.kv. Falrfleld county, April, 1883. This u to certify we nave nai in constant use the Dam Macmw bought of prlne of u several times over, wa dona 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 say we are well pleased ana wish no better machine, Catherine Wtlie and Sutbr. April 86,1888. I nave no fault to hud with my machine, and don’t want any better. I have made the price of U severa times by taking In sewing. It is always ready to do its'work. I think It a first-class tua chine. I feel I can t say too mnett for the Davis Vertical Feed Machine. Mrs. Thomas Smith. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mr. J. O. Boao—Dear Sir: it giv pleasure to testily to me merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of yon about five years ago. has beeu almost la con stant use ever since that time. I cannot aee that it Is worn any, and has not cost me one cent for apiwsff ssf “X 1 » ilrkV "Sow. cBuwpord, Granite Quarry, near Wlnnsboro 8. C. We have used the Davis Vertical Fee 1 Se wing Machine for the last five years. We would not have any other make at any price. The machine has given us unbounded satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mrs. W. K. Turner and Daughters, Fairfield county, a C.. Jan. *1 im Uavmg bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine from Mr. J. D. Boag some three years ago, and It uvnigglv«mn£perfeotaatlsra«tton m every respect as a lauilly mhcnine. Doth for nea y andligntsewlng.aud never needed the least re pair lu any way, I can oueerfhlly recommend It to say one as a first-class machine in every particu lar, and think It second to none. It Is one of the simplest machines madeLmy children use Itwltu all ease, the attalame&is ate more easily; ad justed and it duel h gaatenraime of worl means of its Vertical Ffed than&uy other. , chine 1 have ever I Mrs. Thomas Owings. j FalrUe^i qon^ty, H^C. We have had one ot the Davis Machines about four yean and have always found it ready to do all kihdHOr Worn rie hsfa hatiociMloa totik Can’t see tnat Hie maichinfc ■ worn Hug, and works as well ae when new. Mrs. W. J, Crawford, Jackson's Creek. Falrfleld county, 8. O. My wife is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chine bought of you. 8he would not take double .-A. .^R. .... Ag.kM Rs- MAA.sSatWhA 11 n/1V I of 1 I of mkenthe since she uad it, anfl she ion hail ' I teean not do Very Jar. F. Furr. Monticelio, Falrfleld county, 8. C. The Darla Sewing Machine Is simply a treas ure Mrs. J. A. uoodwtn. Kldgeway, N. C., Jan. 10, 1883. J.O Boag, Esq., Agent—Dear Sir: My wife has oeen using a Davis Sewing Machine constant ly for the past four years, and It haa never needed any repairs an 1 works just as well ae when first bought. She says It will do a greater range of practical work and do it easier and bette» than any machine the hat ever need. We cheerfully recommend It es e No. 1 family machine, • «D.«. Wlnnsboro, S. C., Jan. 8,1883. Mr. Boag : 1 have always found my Davis Ma chine ready do aU kinds of to work I have had oc casion to do. 4J uakHdt Ree fiftat the machine la worn a particle and it works as wed as when new. Kespectfully, Mas. R. C. Gooding. Wlnnsboro, s. C., April, 1868, Mr. Boao : My wife haa been cooatantiy using the Davie Machine bought of yon about tve years ago. I have never regretted buying It, aa it la al way* ready for any kind of family sewing, either neavy or iight. it u never out of fix or needing lepaun. Falrfleld, 8L C., Mareh, 1881. “The fact is, my dear Mrs. Lynde, your children ought not to remain in this poisonous city atmosphere a day longer. They are too delicate, madam. I regard it as your imperative duty to send them out into the country.” Dr. Carson shut up his gold eye glasses as he spoke, with the air of an antocrat whose slightest wishes are a law. Little Carrie Lynde, nestling on her sofa, held tight to her mother’s hand, and regarded the doctor with wide-open blue eyes. Mrs. Lynde sigh ed poftly. “I doubt whether Mr. Lynde can afford the expense of sending his family into the country this year, doctor.” “Afford it, ma’am I Afford it I Why all the world knows how fast your hus band is making money; and—excuse me Mrs. Lynde, but I am a plain man—all tendencies to a parsimonious life ouught to be checked in the bud.” Mrs. Lynde blushed an indignant crimson. “Dr. Carson, I do not like to hear that word applied to my husband.” Theaoctor his hat. “The powder at eleven, perfect quiet, and my little patient will do very well. And remember what I recommended to you about the country.” After the Doctor had taken his de parture, Mrs. Lynde sat thinking on what he had said. “Charles is a poor man,” she mused; a man who is dependent on his prac- ice as a lawyer for his daily bread. I mew it when I married him; nor have " ever regretted leaving the luxury of •p/inyil. o A._ VA- 1 „_1.1 . Lome. And as for my Charles Ueiug parsimonious, don’t I know better?” The rosy glow was still mantling ; drs. Lynde’s cheeks at the bare idea, when a cheery voice sounded on her ear. “Well, how is Carry to-night?” “Charles, is it you? How you start ed me!” He was a frank, noble looking man, with clear, dark eyes, and a smile that lightened his whole face. Am I so very startling? What does the doctor say?” “He says the children must go into tie country this summer with as little (elay as possible?” Mr. Lynde slightly contracted his brows. “I am not sure that 1 can afford it. Alice.” ‘That is what I thought myself; but, oh, Charles, if their health—perhaps heir life—depends upon it, ought we to lesitate?” Mr. Lynde sat down, whistling quiet- y under his breath. “No, I suppose not; but, Alice, it’s a terrible drain on a fellow’s purse just now.” Alice Lynde felt a cold chill at her leart. Was it possible that Dr. Car son’s words had a foundation m truth? Was her husband becoming a prf y to the terrible dragon of avarice? Mr. Lynde went on,— “I suppose I must try to find some farmhouse or other where they won’t charge the children’s weight in gold. Alice, do you never sigh after the vel vety lawns and shady copses of Beech Gfrove—the old stone house, with its cdol verandahs, and the summer arbor by the lake?” “No!” said Mrs. Lynde, stoutly. u Ntiver “Well, sometimes I can’t help think ing how nice it would be for the chil dren. I wonder if the old man who >#nfi it how has any children?” “A childless widower, I believe. But all this has little to do with the ques tion of your summer exile. Of course you’ll need no extra wardrobe to go to a farmhouse, where there are no fash ionable dames and demoiselles to criti- fcise your toilet?” •ICarry aid''Lucy have quite out-, grown their last summer’s clothes, anc Trank has nothing at all to wear, suppose I might get long, although need a new traveling dress sadly.” “Try to dispense with it at present that’s a dear little economical puss.” “Charles,” said Mrs. Lynde^ speak ing suddenly from the impulse of her heart, “is not your business just at present?” jlKYL. “Prosperous? Yes.” .“Then why do you perpetually urge upon me the necessity of economy?” He colored a little. She thought he appeared somewhat confused at her ab rupt question. “There are a great many outlets for our money, Alice, of which you can scarcely form an adequate idea. Eight o’clock, is it? Then I must be off. Good night, my love. I’ll try to be at home before eleven.” Mrs. Lynde was sitting by Carry’s sofa at her sewing, the next day, when Miss Priscilla Forbes was ushered in. “Good morning, my dear. How’s Carry? Better eh? Well, I’m glad to hear it. Bethiah Lamb’s little girl was taken with just the same symptoms, and she didn’t live three days. I’d advise you to be careful, though, Alice. By the way, where has your husband gone to-day?’' “Is he not at his office?” “No. He went out on the Brigham Railroad this morning. I saw him go by as if his life depended on the haste be was making; and thinks I to myself, I’ll just keep an eye on him and see where he is going. So I followed as fast as I could trot, and was just in time to see him spring on board the train. What he was going out of town for I didn’t know; hut, thinks I to my self again, Alice can tell nee all about it.” “Probably he is looking for summer board for the children,” said Mrs. Lvnde coldly. But she remembered with a pang that her husband had said nothing to her about it. “Charles,” she said, when he came home to dinner, “where were you going out of town to day?” “How did you know I was out of town?” he asked a little abruptly. “Miss Priscilla Forties saw you start.” “I wish Miss Priscilla Forbes would be so kind as to mind her own business. ” Alice was silent a minute, then she asked.—- “Did you find a place for the child ren?” “No,” was his brief reply. Alice inquired no farther. She felt hurt and resentful, and Charles paid no attention to her v silence. If he could only have witnessed the burst of pas sionate tears to which she gave way when she was alone by the couch of her little ones! The farmhouse to which she and her children were banished for the summer was not a particularly inviting spot; well ehaded, however, with a stream of water running through the grounds, and plenty of fresh milk and vegeta bles. But Alice Lynde felt the lack of cheerful and congenial society, the un varying monotony of the uneventful ife, and pined secretly, even while Frank and Carry and little Lucy were growing sunburnt and healthy, “I wish Charles could spend a little more of his time here,” she thought. It was scarcely to be wondered at that she recurred sometimes, with a ;hrill of yearning, to the old days when she was an heiress, under the spreading inden trees of beautiful Beech Grove. ! Tor Charles Lynde’s sake she had given up that beautiful home; had dared her uncle’s threat—afterward carried re- entlessly into effect—of disinheritance; had submitted to all the trials and evils which must necessarily surround a poor man’s wife; and now Charles left her alone, to amuse herself as best she might. So, while the children grew fat and rosy, Alice grew thin and pale. “He will come to-night,” she the carriage as it rolled along, exclaim ing loudly at the various objects on the road; but Alice leaned hack in the cor ner, pale and silent, seeing nothing but the fantastic visions of her own fevered mind. Once or twice the idea crossed her brain that the journey was rather longer than she expected; hut she did not reason at all on the subject, relap sing at once into her painful reflections. “Mamma! Oh, mamma! What a pret ty place!” chorused the three children at once. “There’s a tall white statue back of those trees, and a fountain all sparkling like diamonds; and oh, mam ma, such beds of beautiful flowers!” Alice, roused from her thoughts for the instant, leaned forward and gazed out of the window. Burely there was something familiar in those green ter races with their (lights of marble steps: in the Doric columns of the majestic stone piazza, before which the carriage suddenly «ame to a halt. “Am I dreaming,” she thought, look ing vaguely around her, “or is this really Beech Grove?” She went up the steps, feeling as if she were moving through the uncertain fantasies of a dream. But in the vesti bule stood reality itself, in the shape of her husband, with a face of bright, en raptured happiness. “My dearest wifel” he murmured, folding her tenderly in his arms, “the time has come for me to restore to you what you gave up so cheerfully for my sake years ago. Welcome once again to your home, Alicel” “Home!” she repeated, gazing up into his eyes as if she scarcely credited the evidence of her own senses. “Yes, home. I have purchased Beech Groye, Alice, and furnished it just to suit your taste. My cherished little wife, I am rewarded now for the years of economy, the extra work, the self denial which I have been obliged to practice.” “Charles,” she whispeied, growing scarlet and pale alternately, “was it this that kept you away from me, that occasioned youi absence last week?” “I was determined to bring you here, Alice, when I took you away from that fannhouse. There have been countless delays, innumerable difficulties; but I have conquered them all. Welcome to your home, my precious wife!” As he tooK her once more to his heart Alice’s happiness was mingled with the keenest pang of remorse she had ever known. Sitting in the handsome, familiar room that evening, with the moonlight streaming through the stained glass windows, her children asleep up-stairs in the nursery that had once been hers, and Charles beside bei, Alice vowed to herself the best resolution a wife can make—never again to let the leavt shadow come hit ween herself and her ———cr— —- > , - , I Tl»* Ulan xaieaoop* a favorite muslin dress with a long tur quoise pin in the blue ribbons that set J it appears, writes a correspondent, off the transparent whiteness of her | that the project of building great tele scopes is easier in the conception than in the final execution. Twelve months ago I visited Mr. Alvin Clark’s optical works at Cambridgeport, Mass., and saw the great Streuve object glass placed for the first time within its colossal tube and pointed towards a celestial object, and after the Clarks I was the first to test its powers. It was still uncorrected, but worked to a marvel, considering that the most delicate and artistic touches had still to be added. Yet it must he confessed that an astronomical telescope directed at a fixed star is one of the most disap pointing things to look through, and even with the biggest telescope objective which ever left the bauds of theoptican, there was no exception to this rule. With all its powers, this wonder and masterpiece of the Clarks was unable to resolve the disc of the far-off star, and in this respect it was on a level with a little dollar instrument, a mere play thing in the hands of a child. Its wonderful light-gathering properties however, were startling, and the feeble rays of the star were increased to a blaze of light. It has since been de livered to Professor Streuve, and in his hands and under his able management, fine work may be expected from this noble instrument. ; But on a table in the workshop was placed the great telescope objective^ three feet in diameter, made for the Lick observatory in California, which in size would dwarf the king of tele scopes, ready to start for Russia. It may not be known to all that acromatic object glasses are made of two distinct lenses, one made of flint glass the other of crown glass, the two throat. “Oh, it seems an age since I saw him last!” But instead of her husband’s pres ence, the up train from New York Brought only a note, hurried and brief: “Dear Alice—I cannot come up to night. Business is too pressing; love » the children. _ c. L.” The note fell from Alice’s fingers; a sickening sensation came over her heart. “And I had watched for him so anx iously. Oh, can it he possible that he ias ceased to love me? Me, who gave up everything for his sakel” On Monday a letter from Dr. Carson was brought to Mrs. Lynde; a letter en closing another for her husband. The doctor wrote: “Please give this to Mr. Lynde. I was at his office twice on Saturday af ternoon, trying to find him; but he was not there, and the clerk told me had Ijone into the country. Tell him he’s a azy fellow to neglect his business so, when that business is making him rich so fast.” Alice Lynde read the words three times over before she fairly took in theii* whole meaning. “He has deceived me,” she thought. “It was not the convenient plea of business that kept him away from me! Oh, Charles, Charles! and has it come to this?” She sat down, still clasping the let ter in her hand, and gazed vacantly out upon the sunny landscape that lay be fore her. “If it were not for the children I would go away and never look upon his face any more! He loves me no longer. The affection 1 so blindly deemed my own is transferred to some other object: Poisoned by Paint, While the screams of applause were rising higher and higher at the conquest of Light over Darkness m “Excelsior,” an evening or two ago, Miss Mamie Nichols was behind the scenes writhing in the agonies of blood-jioisoning. She was only a pretty coryphee, and the clangor of the ambulance gong which announced the arrival of aid disturbed not the serenity of the cold amusement- seeking audience. “Oh, don’t take me home! don’t take me home!” piteously walled the poor girl, and in respect to her wishes she was removed to St. Vincent’s hospital, where she was yesterday found to be so far recovered tliat in a few days she will once more be upon the stage. “I was called twice to attend this young lady,” said the physician at the hospital, “and she was finally brought here in a carriage, for some unknown reason the theatre managers refusing to allow her to he taken away by the ambulance. After an examlnatiyu I discovered that she was suffering from lead poisoning, caused Dy the use of paint in ‘making up’ her face. There is from four to six per cent, of lead in the face paint in use on the stage, and Miss Nichols absorbed it into her system through the pores of her skin. She might have used it for years aud not have suffered serious consequences had she not been put to such excessive exercise as was required of her in the part she took.” Miss Nichols is a handsome young lady of eighteen years. She lias round eatures aud figure, raven hair, large Jlue eyes and rather a coquettish and bewitching manner. “Why was it that you did not want to go home. Miss Nichols?” asked the reporter. ‘Because it is the unhappiest place I could have been taken to. My tather a rich. My mother died when I was very young and papa—” The young lady could speak no more i’or the sobs that choked her, and cover ing her face with her hands she wept away her grief. When she had recover ed Miss Nichols said that her father lad married the second time. Miss Nichols’ beauty aud grace won 'or her a prominent place among the hundred and more fair women who with ler made up the ballet, and on numer ous occasions she was the recipient of xmquets sent through the stage entrance by some of Xew York’s best sons. “Can we see Miss Nichols.”’ inquired one of a bevy of richly-attired aud stylish young ladies who allighted at ;he hospital yesterday from two elegant- y equipped family carnages. Overhearing the inquiry at the door, Miss Nichols recognized tho voice as rtf fUIA £1? Ik*** -rhIe! r against receiving them. “Oh, how can I bear this mortifica tion?” she pleaded; “I thought my assumed name would shield me from recogniiou.” When the fair visitors were admitted to Miss Nichols’ presence the scene was affecting beyond description. The ex hausted and tear-stained little patient threw herself upon her visitors and for moments there were passionate sobs and tears. Until torn away by the ward physi cians the young ladies clung around Miss Nichols, and ea«h one begged her to give up her life on ihe stage, but she steadfastly declined. She felt that she had talent for the stage, and she said she had taken to the ballet as the only means of making a beginning. It was furthei learned from a friend of Miss Nichols that she was at Vassar College for two years aud would have graduated with honor had her home not been broken up. Urave Kate Shelly, UWIl 13 tlCUlOLCl 1 txi W ovilK? v/moA vx/jw/u. ■ « , , , . . ., % r and »h, should I earn what becomes oi combinedjnjt Urn perfect tana. In me? Only—the childrenl” And as the blue-eyed Carry ran up to her to ask some trifling question, Mrs. Lynde drew the child close to her heart and hurst into tears. “Mamma!” exclaimed the astonished little girl, “why do you ery? Are you sick, mamma?” “Sickl Yes, “sobbed poor Alice. “I am sick of living. I am sick at heart, child.” And the plentiful shower of tears helped to relieve her overcharged heart. “I will endure it for the sake of these little ones. I will suffer on and try to he silent,” thought poor Alice, press sing both hands over her aching heart. « The next week Mr, Lynde was to come and take his family home. Alice looked forward to uft day with a sick anticipation—a shrinking expectation. She longed tor the hour of their meet ing, and yet she dreaded In this nervous state of excitement she came to the door, leading little Lucy, as the carriage wheels grated over the stony country road and stop ped in front of the old-fashioned por tico. But Charles was not there, only, ...... ,. . the driver, who touched his hat with an » bad flaw m it nght in the centre, awkward attempt at politeness, as he Clark offered to order another disc, 1 but Mr. Streuve. fearing the long delay, accepted the lens in that state. It will thus be seen that, however forward the observatory may be, a long time may elapse before the great 30- There’s always danger of a relapse. this instance the flint glass lens was only present, its companion being daily expected from France. A few days ago I wrote to Mr. Clark asking what progress he had made with the Lick objective, hoping, as the preparations in California were so advanced, that the lens was nearly finished. The public will probably be surprised to hear that the fiist chip of the glass has stil to be made, and that the lens I saw last year in its crude state still remains in the same condition. It appears that the crown glass disc has not yet arrived, and Mr. Clark dare not attempt the labor of polishing the immense flint portion until he is assured that the companion is forth coming. When it will be ready, if ever, appears to he a problem to be solved only by time. There is no doubt about the ability of the Clarks to grind and polish tue objective if the material ever reaches their hands; bat the difficulty in obtain ing a solid disc of crown glass three feet in diameter, perfect in all respects, can hardly bs appreciated. Even the Streuve glass, which was smaller, had desceuded from the box. “If you please ma’am Mr. Lynde couldn’t come; but he’ll be there to meet youl” More neglect! Alice answered not a word, but the hands with which she tied the ribbons of Lucy's hat trembled sorely, and her lip would quiver, in spite of the resolute little white teeth that held it down. Tae little ones laughed and chatted in inch lick teleecope will be in position interpreting the mysteries of the heavens. —London has a company which insures ! against bycycle and tricycle accidents. f When the Committe of the Ohio Leg islature will lormaUy present to Miss Kate Shelly the medal voted her by that body in recognition of her bravery the town of Boone, Iowa, will indulge in a celebration, which, it is expected, will eclipse any public demonstration ever held in that region. There will be a procession, music, speeches, and a banquet, and many distinguished people from abroad will be present. So worth-. ily bestowed is the Legislature’s medal for heroism that no one there will fail to do everything in bis power to make the domonstration a success. Kate Shelly is now a comely girl of eighteen, but she achieved her present fame by an act of the greatest bravery when she was but sixteen. At about dark on the 7th of July, 1881, a storm of wind and rain oi un paralleled severity broke over that re gion. In an hour’s time every creek was out of its banks, and the Des Moines river had risen six feet. So sudden was the flood and such was the velocity of the wind, that houses, barns, lumber and all portable objects within reach of the waters were carried away. Looking from her window, which in daylight commanded a view of the Honey creek railroad bridge, Kate Shelly saw through the darkness and storm a locomotive headlight. A second later it dropped, and though the crash which it must have made was not per ceptible above the roar of the wind, she knew that the bridge had gone, and that a train of cars had fallen into the abyss. There was no one at home but her mother and little brother and sister anri the girl understood that if help was to he given to the sufferers, and the eb- press train, then nearly due, warned, she would have to undertake the task alone. Hastily filling and lighting an old lantern, and wrapping herself in a water pioof, she sallied out in the storm. She first made an effort to reach the water’s edge, but finding that the flood was already for above all the paths and roadways, and realizing that she could do nothing in or near that mad torrent, she climbed painfully up the steep bluff to the track, tearing her clothing into rags on the thick undergrowth and lacerating the flesh most painfully. A part of the bridge still remained, and crawling out on this to the last tie, she swung her lantern over the abyss and called out at the top of her voice. It was pitchy dark below, but she was answered faintly by the engineer, who had crawled up ou some of the broken timbers, and, though, injured, was safe for the time being. From him the girl learned that it was a freight train that had gone into the chasm, and that he alone of the train hands had escaped. He urged her, however, to proceed at once to the nearest station to secure help for him and to warn the ap proaching express train of the fall of the bridge. The girl then retraced her steps, gained the track and made her way with all the speed that the gale would pormit, toward Moingona, a small sta tion about one mile from Honey creek. In making this perilous journey, it was necessary for her to cross the high trestle bridge over the Des Moines river, about 500 feet in length. Just as she tremblingly put her foot on this structure, the wind, rain, thunder and lightning were so appalling that she nearly lost her balance, and, in the en deavor to save herself, her sole com panion, the old lantern, went out. She had no matches, but if she had had thousands of them they wonld have been of no service in such a place and in such a storm. Deprived of her light she could not see a foot ahead save when the dazzling flashes of lightning revealed the grim outlines of the bridge and the seething waters beneath. Knowing that she had no time to lose, the bra v e girl threw away the useless lamp, and, dropping on her hands and knees, crawled from tie to tie across the high trestle. Having gained the ground again, she ran the short distance re maining to the station, and told her story in breathless haste, and fell un conscious at the feet of the gaping rustics, who, in their eagerness to know her adventures, forgot the terror and suspense which she had endured. Men were then sent to the rescue of the engineer, and telegrams were flying up and down the line notifying officials and others of the loss of the bridge. The express train came thundering in and was stopped, and the passengers, learning the story of the child hero, looked, a few at a time, upon her wan face and ragged clothes. The purse that was nude up for her was of a very substantial kind. When the story of her behavior spread throughont the State, several funds for her benefit were started, and, so far as money can pay for such devo tion, she has been well rewarded for her night’s work. At the session of the Legislature of last winter it was or dered that a medal commemorative of the girl’s bravery be struck, and a com mittee was appointed to present it to her. Her heroism was made the theme of many eloquent speeches. u wu %HaMmxTco m tue way ui International exhibitions recently held was that of potatoes, in London. There is an association of gentlemen formed to encourage improvement of potato culture, under whose auspices the ex- ibitionj was held. Many of the prizes were open only to “noblemen’s and gentlemen’s gardeners;” other prizes were limited to potatoes “not in com merce,” and the exibition appears to have been more for the benent of fancy farmers than for the good of the gene ral public. The potato serves, as well as hyacinths, grapes or roses, to amuse employers of professional gardeners, and that appears to be the main pur pose of the competition excited by the annual display. One enthusiastic gen tleman was not satisfied with the pro gress thus far attained, but expressed the hope and belief that the members would some day be able to place on the table “a potato worthy of the age in which we live.” Another took occa- to give some good advice to cooks, ex pressed in extravagant terms, it is true but nevertheless sound in principle. He said that it was the usual practice to bring the cooked potatoes to the table in a porcelain dish with a close- fitted cover. “In ten minutes the best potatoes however carefully cooked, »re thus utterly destroyed.” He rocom mended that they should be placed in a wooden dish or served in a porcelain dish, with towels above and below to absorb the moisture. Potato-maniacs have their place, like biblio-maniacs, should succeed in accomplishing their mrpose of getting potatoes “worthy of ;he age in which we live.” Exploit* of a Haul an Prince**. Martin Lutner’s Tankar.l. In the Paris papers, reference is made to the reappearance in society of the Russian Princess Sonwaroff: This handsome Russian lady was, during many seasons, the reigning star at Nice and Monaco, and was not the less re markable on account of her frequent at tempts to break the bank. She has not been seen at either of these places or in Paris since 1878. She lived so fast here and gambled so heavily at Monte Carlo that the late Czar forbada her to leave the empire until she repaired her for tunes. Whether she has done so or not is more than one can tell, but she is cer tainly back in Paris, where she hss already rented a magnificaut house, in which she says she is going to have some fun before the winter is over. The Princess, whose maiden name was Basilewska, was enormously wealthy when she married the Prince Sonwaroff whose fortune was very moderate. After a few years of matrimony they agreed to disagree, and an amicable separation look place. The Prince devoted himself to traveling and the Princess went to Monaco in search of excitement. She played with large stakes, and her boldness, her cold ness and her alternate heavy losses and winnings were the sensation at Monte Carlo. Every evening when the gambl ing rooms closed she enfertained a large party of guests at supper In her villa on the Promenade -des Anglais. Some rather racy anecdotes are related about her, and her many decidedly eccentric acsociates gave her a somewhat scan dalous reputation. One of these tales is that, after one of the suppers the Princess taking off one of her sUppers, threw it across the room, whereupon an actress of the Palace Royal Theatre, who was among her guests, picked it up, fiilled it with champagne wine and emptied it at a draught to the health of the hostess. This so pleased the Princess that she exclaimed, as she embraced tie actress: “To-morrow, my dear, you shall have a villa of your own, next door to mine. ” This promise was kept, and the actress has now the slipper under a glass case. A very stylish young man, who had got cleaned out at a trente-et-quamte at Monaco, amused himself one evening by making game 'or the rich Russian lady, who, being pleased with his appearance, accepted his services, although he was a stranger. That day she was a heavy winner, and when she left the table offered this gentleman a thousand-franc note in so delicate a manner that refusal was im possible. The next day the same trans action was repeated and again, and again during a whole week. Then luck turned against the Princess, and the strange genUeman - with interest. This gave rise to a sort of partnership, and at the end of the sea son her cavaliere servante left Monaco with a clear profit of ten thousand dollars. TDe Arch of Tltu* Roproduoed. Just now, whatever is assoc ated with memories ot the “great Reformer” seems “specially in season,” even those concern ing his simple borne life and humble sur roundings, whether of books, papers or cud; all were in marked sense “his friends,” if “ministering,’ or “being min Utered unto,” means anything in this hie of ours. Wotable among these relics of the past is a small bit of property, once “a famil iar belonging” ia tho household of Merlin Luther and that wise little woman Catba rine, whom the b»aband characterizes as ‘his gracious housewife.” This wonderful cup. whose age is told in centuries, “is ot ivory, richly carved and mounted in silver gilt. Lpon its sur face are six medallions, upon fill of which are traced memorials of our Saviour's life The upper one represents the agony in the garden aid the Saviour orayiag that the cup might pass from Him. Upon the base one sees a representation of the Lord’s Sapper, a dish bung the incarnation of he b r ead.” Upon the lid, in old charac ters, is Ihe following inscription: “C. M. L., MDXXtlll.” This tankard, now in possession ot Lord Londesboiough, was once in the collection of E kington ot Birmingham. —The Louvre has recently acquired from Egypt some fragments of a papy rus treating of Roman law. They con sist of portions of the Responsa Papiui- ani, with notes by Paul and Ulpian. The text is printed in the last number of the JBerwe de Droit Francait. —Baltimore having more than f20,- 000,000 invested in oyster packing and over 30,000 persons engaged in the busi ness, is taking measures to prevent the destruction of the oyster beds in the Chesapeake Bay. It is proposed that the period of rest for oysters shall be lengthened and extend from April 1 te October 1. There has just been completed at Tilton, New Hampshire, a unique con tribution to American architecture. Without a word of outside announce ment there has been duplicated in that town during the past eighteen months the Arch of Titus, of Rome. This great memorial has been presented to the town by Charles E. Tilton. When in Rome, in 1881, Mr. Tilton conceived the idea of ornamenting his native town with a monument which should sym bolize the victories of peace rather than those of war, and the Arch of Titus seeming to him the embodiment of the ideas which he wished to be expressed be resolved on erecting a similar struc ture on tne site of the old Indian fort in Tilton, The arch is entirely of Concord gi .nitt, and rests upon a foundation 40 by 70 feet by 7 feet in depth, construct ed of stone and cement, making one solid block. Upon this rises a platform of hewn granite, approached on all sides by five courses of steps of the same material. From this table rise two columns upon which rests the arch, reaching a perpendicular elevation over all of 55 feet. The arch itself describes a semi-circle, the keystone being at the , height of 30 feet from the platform beneath. The interior length of the span is 15 feet, making an enthe diam eter of 40 feet The piers rise from two plinths, composed of four stones each, forming a base for each pier 12 by 14 feet. The circle is set inside the col umns, while the outside keeps its per pendicular. Nearly 20 feet of elabor ately cut granite lie above the arch of the circle, with belts, entablatures and projections. Each block ot stone com prising each liyer is locked together at the upper surface by substantial dowel ed iron bands. Eight hewn stones, weighing 130,000 pounds, make the roof, their joints being leaded and coppered, no expense being spared tend ing to make the structure perpetual. The keystone is five feet in length by twelve in depth. The best artists in the land brought to its surface a polish as smooth as plate glass. Each end of the key stone bears in raised letters the inscrip tion : “Memorial arch of Tilton, 1882, ” The keystone encloses a lead box con taining gold and silver coins, a history of Sanbomtown, a volume entitled “Successful Men of New Hampshire,” a newspaper printed at Concord in 1790, State weekly papers and a copy of each of the B^ton daily papers. Theloca- cation of this arch is upon a bluff or mound shaped hiU,a trifle over one hund red and fifty feet above the water level of the beautiful Winnlpiseogee river, which flows at its feet through a ravine toward the south, and upon which at either side rests the beautiful village. Lime water, with a small quantity of acetic acid. i» saH to cuke a good ink- eraser. . f —The oldeat school teacher in New Haven is Sarah Wilson, a negreas, 77 years old. who has Wen teaching for sixty years. Her fatner was born a slave in New Haven, but bought hia freedom. Mrs. Wilaon has a good edu cation, and teaches a private school of very young children .SsM j '' ' Jt ,