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