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~ 'i - . . ^ * ' 7 ~ : WINNSJ30K0, S. C., WEDNESDAY, AUCxUST 20, 1884. /\ ?? - i i i umiimwmmam^mmmmiun n t?' * iQQA 1 QQ/j I XUUtt. ?UUT p SPRING | OPENING -BY-r f P. MiteM Bro. * f jT * We are now receiving every 0 day our new SPT?T1V(t STOCK! ^ Attention is particularly di rected to our new and elegant W assortment of SPRING DRESS GOODS. Trimmings for Dresses. f " LADIES' 1 CHILDREN'S . jr** * Fancy Hose. LACES and FICHUS of the & latest novelties. T A TMTTQ' "2 PmT XH2TCTSPS ~ VJLJ. C3 Triinmed Straw Hats. Our stock of CLOTHING ^ / for Men, Youths and Children is complete. - W We invite our friends and customers to. give us an early call. LP. LANDECKER &# BRO. IL-i' Jiau Jka. r PLANTERS S LOOK WELL TO YOUR INTEREST, W AlfD CALL AT yS; J.McCASLEY &C0.'S J- MACHINERY HALL and examine their Machinery before buying elsewhere. We have a full line of machinery always W on hand, and will take great pleasure in * showing it to all parties wishing to buy. ' We represent the Celebrated / -%V, ms' FRICK "ECLIPSE" EX GIN E. ' We have sold a number of these Engines in this County, and every one has given entire satisfaction; in fact it is the best Engine sold, without any exception. "We offer Hp "THE PRATT," ||p " VAN WINKLE," W ' "BROWX" i5 it i ? - I AND "HORSE-SHOE? GINS, And challenge the World to furnish betW / ter outfits. egg/ "We also sell the W HUXTEJB MILL, L One of the best Mills in the market. We 0 have on hand a sample B GIX-HO USE THRESHER. Wg Every farmer who.raises grain should W have one of these Threshers. TXf/x -r*s\4- fnor r?/-\TT?An fiC WP TPT> I? C UV UUU iVWi w*Mj/vv4v*vMj WW ?? ? ^ t resent only-the r ' ' 7SEY BEST MACHINERY, _ . --- J * Which we offer at as low figures and on as liberal terms as can be found anyS where. * ^No matter what you may want in the R MACHINERY LINE,. Always write to us, and your orders r shall always receive our prompt attention. All we ask is that you give us a trial, and we will satisfy you that it will be to your interest'to buy your ilACHIRRY from (R. J. McCARLEY. & CO. July 26 BARGAINS.?I wiU seU tlie following Xew Gook Stoves at Cost, for the reason that I will not handle these styles in future: One No. 70 Xew Era, 16 inch Oven S12.00, worth $16.00. One No. 7 New Era, IS inch 0ven?14.00, worth $20.00. One No. 17 Centennial, 20 inch Oven $20.00, worth $25.00. One 2\o. 8 Improved Lee 19 inch Oven Ik $20.00, worth $23.00. With each Stove a |L tull set utensils. , j. h. CUMM1XGS. G retch en. Vhenefer I vould shbeak aboud ' Dot leedle shveedest-heart, mein Gretchen I Id seems me hard to said id oud. I Because meinself dit lofe dot Metcben So mootch enough, der tongue can't told id, ' So faslit der heart vould yed unrolled id. I She vas a vonder-vitcb. dot miss. Dor sunrise nefer vas ko settin' I If she vould shtaid around; der kiss I She zeldom ditn't vas vorgrettin' 1 Vould sbange dem feechures on your face j j Dili nottinj? vasn'd yed in biace. ! Dem eyes, dhey vas some vinder-banes, j Vhere ltredle anchels vould been breekin', j Dem lips vas red likechelly shdains Ven boys vas in der bantry shneakin*, I TJnd vhen dhey obened vonce, dem vords x j I Vouid soundt like soldt canary birds. ; You ougbter seen dem dimples, too. Dem vinked und blinked in rosy sbeekes . Like leedle valleys dot vould do For ehoy to blayed some funny freakses, I Und efery dime some schmiles begin j Dem leedle chinks vould tumple in. . Ach! ditn't she vas nice? Somedimes . i 1 vish she don't so shweed grevaysen, i Id vouldn't be so bard, dem rhymes i I Dot I vould write me in her brnisin', Und shweedest voids dot I vould use Don'd seemin' dem like lemon-chuice. v?Wade Whipple. ' A. SHATTERED INTELLECT. "Help! help! help!" j "I started to my feet in a tremor of I fright as this cry rang through my i j room, and gazed at the partition wall ; i which divided my apartment from the i ! room next to it, in helpless terror, j ! Then I "bethought me of the hall, and : rushing out there I knocked on the door j next to mine. - - Silence, followed by a low demoni- j acal laugh! "What is the matter?" I called. : "Open the door if you need help." A voice, evidently that of an aged ' woman, called out: "Go away!" Then I could hear her laugh and ! mutter to herself, and I went back to : j my room. On the way I met the boy ! who was janitor of the building. "Who has No. 27?" . j "Some crazy woman," he answered i in disrespectful haste, and was gone } before I could ask another question. j A madwoman in the next room! j j Surely fate was unkind to me. I had . come here to improve my own minu, : and .found myself tete-a-tete with ; idiocy. I could move out, but I had j only" just moved in, and ducats were \ as scarce as hen's teeth. I was preparing myself for dramatic readings, ; and spent the most of my time in the"; drill work of my profession, with inter- i vals devoted to the rendering of clas- j sical music, "con amore. 1 comforted j myself with the belief that however j hard my poor demented neighbor' j shrieked and raved in her. insane j ebullitions, I could drown her out with ; an opposition bedlam, and I decided to stay where I was and attend to my own affairs. If I had only done so! "Mind your own business'1 is a: j homely formula, but it is a little classic | of sensible, pertinent -advice, which we I wrr/vnl/? n woTI in p-rnrrava on the ritual I j >1 viu?. %?.v " ? | of our daily lives in letters of gold. So ! much for parenthesis. I studied aloud. I raved and ranted to develop my voice. I paced my cham- i. ber in a long white gown and holding , t I'" ' fll nij?l?m), -f while. I strode up and down, repeated in sepulcherial tones: O-w-it dam-n-ed spot, owit I say? one-two; why then 'tis time to? "Save me! save me! .help! help! for God's sake, help!" I dropped my candle, jumped into bed, and drew the bed-clothes over my head. There I lay and shivered until morning. Then I saw a pale, still woman with a resolute face, coming out of number ! 27~ \ ' 'How is your patient?" I asked hur-! riedly as she passed mo on the land-! ing. The woman stared at me u moment as if she did not quite understand. The?the insane woman," I explained. "Oh, yes, much better, but I cannot! stop to talk," and she hastened away while I wondered whether she was a ! nurse to the mysterious woman shut iup there, or a * relative, possibly a ; daughter. I decided on the. latter when I over- i heard the fond language she used to- ; ward the poor demented creature, i Never a harsh, or reproachful word, I but the tender endearments of an affec- j tion that was self-sacrificing as only ' the strongest filial love can be. And I so proud and careful of the unconscious ] sufferer that no eye was allowed to j rest upon her in that wretched state. I honored and respected fcucli devo- | tion and soon in my own way I long to assist the sad and silent woman, who shrunk from the advances of strangers. La her labor ot love. 1 Degan oj ieay ing tiny bunches of flowers at the door. Then small offerings of fruit, and I had a selfish reward in the silence and ; peace that followed each occasion. I could hear the patient softly laughing or talking to herself, and I even im- : agined she had learned to expect the tributes of my sympathy. Who knew? It might even act as a new mind cure, tiiis outside diversion from an unknown source. Several times I had tried to. talk with the daughter?as I had decided her to be?but her manner was so reserved, and so strange, that I began to think that she, too, was non compos mentis; that they were, in fact, a mad family. But I had learned that she filled a responsible position during the day, and that her whole life was given up to the cheerless society of the wreck whom she protected with such devotion that I had never yet caught a glimpse of her. I felt that to help such a sorrow was a privilege, and I desired no thanks or acknowledgment. And yet?I will confess it now?it was sometimes hard to bear. The avings of insanity are never pleasant to listen to, but there was a peculiar weirdness in the muffled cries that rang " through the deadening wall. But there came a climax, as there does to most of the tragedies of life, and it did not come a moment too soon, for I had fallen into a nervous condition that, if I had been a fine lady, would have caused my friends and myself great apprehension. But I am not a fine lady, and t?e few friends I have lived far "away and did not trouble themselves about me. And I had become absorbed, fascinated, haunted by j xc : Lilt; iiamcicoo vu Ljav \JLjuci. Oiuw of my partition. I, too, was beginning . to laugh hysterically; to scream "help'1 and "murder" in my sleep; to mutter, and jabber incoherent words. My face had grown white and wild-looking. I fancied that every next door neighbor avoided me, as if afraid of me?ha! ha! the idea is too funny! One evening, just at dusk, I went home from a rehearsal for a performance in which I was to appear, and all absorbed in my part, toiled wearily up to my room in the fourth story and walked in without unlocking the door, so unconscious was I of my surroundings. But the room was lighted and a 1 woman sat there sewing; the furniture , v.. \ Jt s. was strange?nothing was mine. I bad made a mistake and walked into. No. 27. The woman wbo sat there alone rose as if ashamed and stepped back. "I beg your pardon," I said as I re- j covered myself, "but it seems I have j made a mistake. I was thinking' so busily, I did not notice." "Won't you sit down? Take this?" j "I'll kill you! Help! Help!" shrieked i a discordant voice?the voice that j haunted me. I started in sudden fright; every \ nook and corner was visible to the eye; s the bed was there, white and unoccupied; no one was present except we j two. "Who it? What is it?" I gasped, j turning pale and sick. "My parrow said tue woman, caim- i ly, pointing to a gray African parrot f Titling sleepily in a cage in the corner, j 'I dare say she often amuses you with j her noise." She is a very tragic bird. I j am very choice of her, but some day you may borrow her, if you like her for company." "I would like to wring her neck," I j said and went home. The next time I met the janitor I-i asked him how he dared to tell me ; there was a crazy woman in that room. | "Ale vimmins ees crazy," he said, j with a cynical smile. "I tells her you vas crazy mit your own selluf." "Told her I was crazy?" "ifees, and she vos afrieot, too." Then I was a mad woman. I had been fooled and outwitted by a lout of j a boy, and that bird I most despised, a j poll parrot.?JU'rs. M. L. Rayne. Plantation Negroes. Plantation negroes are, to those who see them for the first time, most miser-' able specimens of "men and brothers," f if ito tn ho in/^orAil lvr fliAir ovtor. nal appearance. They are usually | very black in color, with pronounced! negro features, and ignorant. In some , cases they are but a few degrees above; the animals. They live only in the present, know nor care nothing for the j future, and seem to regard freedom as only the means of deciding for them j whether they will work or remain idle, j and, as may be supposed, if bacon and ! corn bread could be had without the j labor, it is safe to say they would re-! 'main idle. t . I was told, however, despite their: dejected, work-a-day look, they are a ; very happy and contented people, and | they are treated with much co'nsidera- j tion and kindness on the two planta- j tions I visited, being allowed to build huts and cut all the fire wood on' the j lands, and in illness cared for either by i the overseer or owner, who employs a j physician in urgent cases. These plantations have also stores j upon the grounds wherein the hands f can buy at market rates all the neces- j saries of their lives, food, clothing and \ shoes?in fact anything that can be had j at the usual or "general country store. And this has been done in order to keep the "plantation hands" at home, for if during the plantation season the? hands can get off to tcvn after a pay day there is no chance of their return until all their money is spent and eithevjss>^s>v_ .sta^ation...stares.. them .in tiie iiUU) moat plaiitatiSa,-r hands are born and raised in the work, they know no other. Occasionally a more ambitious or intelligent one will aspire to "learn to be a barber, " and leave his "native heath,'' but it is said that they do not as a rule take to education, and prefer to remain ignorant and work by day, and if they can dance and frolic by night they are content with life as they find it. Their domestic relations and moral life is better left unquestioned in many cases, although the law compels marriage. It :s often, honored in the breach only, but they hare the enthusiastic religious ! "revivals," and their colored preachers are ever on the plantations and hold < services in their church at "Orton" for the religiously inclined. Some women seem disposed to think that the lives of "house servants" are more enviable than their own, working as they do in the hot fields, but it is. not an energetic longing and involves too much thought to oe put into active execution. One rather black-eyed i looking young woman, to whori I spoke, asked me if I thought I cc old get her a "place" as cook at the north- ! I asked her what wages she earned as : field-hand, and she said: "Mostly $3 a week, but they say I could get $12 : for a month as cook!" Her mental : arithmetic was a little off but she was in earnest. I told her I did not think ! Bhe would like the Northern States, it 1 was so much colder, and she laughed : and said: "That's what they all say," miss; mebbe I would not." Freedom : means to this class of DeoDle onlv the ability to earn money and provide for ' themselves, instead of having every- j thing provided for them, and it will be a long, long time before they are ele* ! vated sufficiently to understand how * much has been done for them,?WUmingion (N. C.) Cor. Troy Times. [ t m -e> Cold Ham and Sausages for Athletes. ' In Dr. Sargent's recent lecture on ; "What Shall We Do to Get Strong?" : he said in the course of his. remarks: "It has been customary to train athletes: on lean; beef and mutton, :bnt he 1 thought this a mistake, as a tissue? 5 making food should be used in com- ! binaticn with these, and the diet : should bo so changed as to meet the . requirements of the organism of the person using it, for to establish one : diet for all persons was ridiculous. Beef alone is not superior to meal, beans, or other, farinaceous food, and the size of the muscles of a man is not : indicative of his strength. Farinaceous food tones a man down and will tend ' to give him more endurance. A man < who strikes a blow equal to four hundred pounds would be called a strong man, < but this strength can not be kept up J lor any length of time on animal food, as it comes from the base of the brain, i and endurance must be sought for in i ^4.1* r\$ 4r\r\A TVw rn/lnrtn n UlliCi rk.XJLi.UO VA 1VVU* JL \S ivuuvy uuv weight of a man in training lean meats may do, but when he is down in weight he must go back to food containing : more carbon, such as ham and sausages, which should always be eaten cold. ] Three years ago this would be considered" ridiculous by trainers, but for < a diet for running, walking, and-row ing it has been found that saccharine food, with beef or mutton, is the best; tea, coffee, and alcohol,' as well .as -> condiments, are.objectionable; indeed, 5 it is not the quantity pf food a person ( eats that ' strengthens him, but the ] amount assimilated and worked into ( the organism?Harvard Herald. ' % 1 ? ? . ?? ' J A special to the Fhi'adelphia Press I says that "CharieS Ratter," ^one- the 3 oldest- Olt.inf ~Pntl^friTxm Koc. on ^ eight day clock - in running, order whbh belonged to' his gpeat grand- , father, and which, was brought from Europe on the sam? steamer-on which . William Penn crossed the , atlantia Unfortunately the name of tie "steam- | er is not given; : - -*" 1 t The Mexican Lasso. The lasso itself a rope made of the 1 twisted fibre of the maguey, or aloe, inown in European markets as Sisal i hemp. There is a?great difference in i the quality; the best and strongest are twisted so extremely tight that it is al- j most impossible to untwist the strands. One end is worked into a loop, lined j inside with leather, through which, when about to throw the lasso, the other end is passed. The rope is about thirty i feet long, about one-third of it formed into a nOose which is grasped a little above the loop?to-wit: where the 1 rope is double; the rest of it is coiled ; round and held in the left "hand, ready j to let go, the extreme end being kept ; separate and of course retained. Tlffc ; noose should hang well clear of the j ground when held'level with the shoul- j der, and, when open, forms a circle of four or five feet in diameter. The las- j so is swung over the head and left ' shoulder, and back over the right j shoulder?a peculiar turn of the wrist [ as it begins to return keeping the nooso : open. It is thus made to circle round j and round his head by the thrower un- ; til he is within distance of his object, ! when it is launched and flies off at a i tanget, the noose assuming a circular form, and settling quietly round the. object aimed at. Before it settles the thrower seizes the other end with his right hand, and gives it two rapid turns round the cabeza of his saddle, so as to get a purchase. If he is not quick enough at this, and the bull tightens the rope before a good purchase has been effected, the result is that the ; fingers get caught between' the rope ! and the cabeza and very much injured. [ It is no infrequent thing to see a man who bas lost one or two nngers m i learning the %.rt. It is beautiful to see 1 the exactitude with which an adept will throw the lasso from or to any point, over either shoulder, behind or in front." There is no credit in .catching a bull by the horns, for he cannot be thrown by them; but considerable skill is required to pitch the noose just in front of him, when he is at full gallop, so that next step he treads into it; then, on its being tightened with a sudden jerk, rolls over in the dust. The horse, too, has to learn his part of. the business, and bear at the right moment in the opposite direction, or he might be thrown instead of the bull, to which maeea ne is oiuen interior in weiguu xt is considered disgraceful to hate to Joosen the lasso, and to . let the bull carry it off with him. A good hand at it will catch by either leg alone ;a bull galloping past at any angle. The most difficult feat of all is to lasso him round the quarters when at full gallop at the moment when his hind legs are doubled up under him. Usually the noose slips off, and nothing happens; but if he be thrown precisely at. the right instant his hind legs are pinned right up under his bellv. and he is brought to a , standstill in the postion of "a sitting dog, looking indescribably silly in such an unwonted position. These and. other feats of lassoing are seen at their best at a hacienda, on the occasion of the annual herradcro, when the young 4 bulls are driven in from thp plains, i thrown ffijjtiEi iron with the ini:i;us uT 11 tor's name. Friends ana^Rghbors come together, from afar, and Tie with one another in the display of dexterity and horsemanship.?London Saturday Review. A Romance of the Senate. Twenty-five or thirty years ago, I think, at Marysville, CaL, which was then an established, yet shantylike, town, says a writer in The San Franoisco Call, lived Judge Stephen Field, and in ' his law office was a young fellow named George Gorham, ?- * J-J ?14.!* - ? WIIU UOaruea WJLtu. i* jjittiu lamuy, auu at the table another guest was a florid, Welsh-looking stranger. In the next house lived an Irishman named Murphy, who had a bright, interesting daughter, but he was fond of whipping her when anything went wrong with him. This whipping had been going on some time, and one day the boarders held an indignation meeting, and resolved to go next door and see old Murphy, and tell him that if he did not stop correcting that child on every and on all occasions they would take him down to the stream and duck him. None of the guests were especially brave, but they put on a very brave front and held the indignation meeting. Several years afterward one of these parties, Field, was called to be justice of the supreme court. Still later by several years the republicans in Cali forma nom.nated Gorham for governor, and they put on the ticket with him the present United States Senator Jones. "When Jones met Gorham, he said: "Are you the little .fellow from Long Island who boarded at Siarysvillo j with me? Don't you know me?" "No, ? don't think I do." "Well, I'm Jones, the Welsh-looking fellow who formed one of the posse to go in and make old' Murphy stop keeping that child scream- ; ing. They shook hands warmly, and then Jones said: "Gorham, do you ; know what has become of that Mary ; Murphy?" "No." "Why she is now Mrs. .William Sharon." My informant says that consequently j there met at Washington- city Jones and Sharon in the United States senate, ; Gorham secretary of the senate, and ] Field on the Supreme bench?all 1 brought out of that boardinz-house. i Mary'Murphy grew up to bo an interesting woman. 1 The Rhyme. J Interviever?I should like, Mr. Whit- < man, to have youf theory of poetry. < Vault Whitman?Poetry, sir, is the soul of thought; the upward hearings 1 of divine inspiration. i "But I am referring more to the me- < chanical details of versification?rhyme 1 ind rythm, for instance."- 1 "Well, sir, the rythm should be as j undulating as tfie sea, and the rhymes 1 should be as perfect " 1 "But in your last poem you make 1 'glorious' rliyme with 'hedge-fence." ; "Oh! no, you are mistaken. Gloririous rhymes with the word notorious." "But there is no such word in your \ r\AOm '' "No, not in that poem; it was in an-? ] 3ther poem published some time ago." < ?Philadelphia Call. On a window pane of the room in 1 Mexico in which John - Schlosser the 1 suicide died, some time since, was dis- J jovered, soon after his death, the im- ; print of a man's hand, as if an extended hand had been pressed against the pane and held there until its outlines ; iiad been clearly impressed upon the j j ylass. Rumor says that it is really the : j .mprint of Schlosser's hand, and was j, made after h.6 had swallowed the fatal j ^ iraught. When the present occupant i ( took possession of the premises efforts j ] syere made to obliterate the imprint, | < U-M* if r?Af Troe^o^ Q TIT IT* T*)p? ! UUW4V k/VUiU UUu uy ljuduvu ? ? J ?' termincd to be rid of it, the objectionable pane was removed and a new one substituted.?Si. Louis Republican. A.GENUINE BULL-FIGHT. j The Cowboys Testing the Mettle of Their Herds. There had been considerable chaffing, variegated with especially lurid illustrations of the possibilities of profanity, on the merits of the two bulls, and for several nights the smoke hung low ov&r the campfires, as if listening, too ! awe-stric&en to rise, to me various i stories of their prowess in former strug- ! gles. Murcheson's men were to the ! westward of the trail,' but they came ; ever to Zingman's roundup, two miles | to the east, every evening to talk over < their bull, and speculate on the chances ! if Zingman's men felt the spirit of ow- j nership in anything they wanted to pit against him. But Zingman's people hesitated. They had a bull,' "Texas,11 j which Ead killed everything he had : tackled, and they thought in an unfair | advantage to turn him loose against so i maiS^stly sm?inferior animal as Mur- i chq^r? "Wiid Bill," though they j coifeun't call to mind any other animal th ^-were willing to risk money on. nth is position broke up the^ poke^ J gaj^s, and give rise to some pronounced polemics. If wind could have settled the dispute it would have been decided in favor of both sicttfs. Relying on the ; anecdotes related of each, one would i suppose that a: contest between them j could only result in tho termination of i time. Murcheson men were a unit in j the-statement that on one occasion j "Wild Bill'" had rushed his adversary! J?? --J -U7 UUY^Al, UUU, UUitUiV LU SLVjJ UJO ucau.- | way,'had gone home -with'a Baptist] church on his horns. Zingman's peo pie/conceded the possibility of this, j but maintained and proved conclusive- ! ly by the testimony of each other that j "Texas" had on one occasion picked ! up an earthquake on his horns and held ' it there until it agreed never to visit 1 that section again if he would let it go. [ On this state of fact3 it was obvious j that nothing but a meeting could def- i Irately determine the superiority, and j the duel was arranged for Sunday : morning. The fight was to come off j on neutral ground, midway between ! the two herds. Every cowboy was to leave his weapons behind him, a judi- i cious precaution, since the cowboy pis- | tol has a supernatural method of dis- ' charging itself, without reference to material causes. Each side was to re main behind its^own bull, and neither to approach the' fracas closer than 300 yards, the -winners to take all the money to be found on the persons or j in the possession of the losers. Bright and early Sunday morning, the grass still shining in the dew, and the sun coming up with every promise of a glorious prairie day, the bulls ! were cut out of their respective herds and driven to the battle-ground. A j man who has never seen a Texas bull j doesn't know how much fight can bo tied up in one hide. Strong and wiry, j not too heavy in the flank, short of horn and quick in action, he was built to light, and contrives to discharge his mission without involving himself in the-'slightest unnecessary complication, j Lushed to madness by the whips of the i. c&tooys, lai'd 011 mercilessly to arouse tliie^-rage,* the two bulls came in sight ^La^fe-other. and their backers with- j -Si" mature f?' Texas hcll^is fafl- j the time asnnu'tTiis hu cangm, imttl1 he sees another bull, then the ther-; momcter of his wrath goes to boiling point As they spied each other their heads went down and their tails went up. ; They approached slowly and .with a i sinuous motion, pawing the ground! and moaning. "Texas" appeared aj little larger of the two, and he wa3 j fully as active as his foe. A hundred i paces apart they fairly sprang from the earth, and the bellow and the crash of meeting mingled together as the i ground trembled beneath them, j "Texas" had the best of it, for "WildBill" recoiled to his haunchcs, but the j game little bull recovered first, and in i the next attack gored "Texas" under; the head, nearly reaching his throat.: "Texas," still dazed by the first shock,!1 failed to counter on his adversary.! But the next rush found him prepared,! and he recived his enemy full on the i forehead, driving him again to his j haunches. Before "Billv could .rallv i "Texas" had raised the flesh off his nigh foreshoulder bone. The smell of his own blood crazed the little bull, and his next dash was not straight. He struck Texas obliquely, throwing up the head as the latter j andthen turning, before he had passed, ; he ripped up the big bull's fore-leg, j catching him behind-the shoulder and ; tearing out the muscles, cords and ten- < dons. Though badly lamed, Texas | was not vanquished. Once more he bore \ the little bull down, but' Bill was the j least injured of the two, and strug- ! gling to his feet he buried a horn in the ! old wound. It is doubtful if he knew | what damage he had done, for ho was ; half blind with his adversary's blood. 1 Texas awaited the next rush where ho stood, nor was he kept in suspense. Bill was at him in a moment, but the big bull, sadly hurt, winded and tired, held his head high, and Bill caught J him between the forelegs. rit>r>in? nim ! to the neck before he tore* away. Then Texas turned, and ashoutfrom his backers announced his defeat ! With a yell of victory and derision j Murcheson's men dashed down and drove their bull back to the herd. Ihrce hours later the two herds were in motion again, but Murcheson's people were enriched to the extent of all the cash whereof Zingman's men had been seized at the time the duel began. Staggering slowly and .^fiayxfully 3own the trail, "Texas" limf^f:*while an his way back to the ranch from which he came. He couldn't go back > to his herd, for the cows will gore a defeated bull to death. There was no : sffort made to bind up his wounds; | they didn't even olfer to lead him to \ water. And so alone he wandered i away, beaten, disgraced and <rrievously wounded, and in a little while was- lost to sight in the dust that floated along the prairie.?Drake's Traveler's Mag a zine. i ? Cattle-raising in Montana the past |' two years has paid from 25 to 4C per 3enL Previous to that time it was j iiardly worth following. The country |, was so far away from market that it j would wear a "bullock out to walk tc ; the slaughter. But with the approach | Of the IN orthern Pacific Railroad a new arder of things came; a steer that was j formerly worth ?25 now became worth j $50 and $60. { i ~ - - ? A Mr, Youmans, of Delhi, N. Y., ;; publishes the followingcard: "Within | ] ;ho past sixty days I have paid $2,150 < :or indorsing. Notice is hereby given 'J ;o the public generally that any man ! < ;vho asks me to indorse his note will ' lo well to have his life insured for the . Ci -l:. t :i_ jtjuciib ui nib xauiuj UCJLUIO ; ( ;ack application." , The President of Franco has a salary i 5f $120,000 a year, with $120,000 more ; ] for entertaining-'and traveling, / 9 f . t . - Ener'3 Rascality. We arc permitted to quote the fol-' lowing from a private letter received in this city from New York, which throws considerable light on^the inside history of young Eno's knavery in the management of the affairs of the Second National bank: Young Eno saw that he had wrecked the bank, and made a clean breast of the matter to his father on Sunday. The shock to the olcf man was a terrible one and his anger knew no bounds. He consulted with several of the directors and they examined the securities in and the books of the bank, and found that the president had sunk $3,000,000 of the bank's assets in Wall street. iNor was tnis an. ne naa maae way, likewise, witli a million and a half in securities deposited in' the bank by his brothers and sisters, and even his little nephews and nieces! Amos R. Eno, when he discovered, these...facts o?Monday and Tuesday,. Txai -completely r ; overcome by the baseness of his son's crime, and from the- first was -for having him arrested and punished' as se- j verely as the law'would permit It ] was all the othefdirectoi's" could do to divert his mind from his son to the bank itself They pleaded with him not to allow the ban?r to" be closed, be cause of the suffering that would be caused to the hundreds of depositors. \ 'Finally his anger toward his- rascal of ; a son gave way to pity for. those who ( had trusted the officers of the; bank, , and he consented to make good" a portion of the sum his son had embezzled. , Hi3 first offer was $1,600,000, but this ; was not enough, and again he' declared that he would see his son in orison be- , fore ho would pay any more. Bat the ] arguments qf the directors prevailed, < and he contributed out of the savings , of a long and busy life, enough money, with the few hundreds of thousands j which the other directors supplied, to < cover the deficiency and make the bank ; solvent . ... : .. * Well, the bank on Wednesday morn- ] ing was declared solvent, and the work ' j of paying the frightened depositors be- < gan.; Hr. Eno, Sr., and one or two of < the directors were in the bank, and \ they thought that their troubles ^were ; in a measure over, when another dra- ] matic incident occurred, and for a time < the fate of the bank hung again in the \ balance. This was nothing more nor less than a check for $90,000, which ( John R. Eno had drawn on the bank, , and which he had got cashed down- j town, after he had confessed to ; an pmhp^^lpni^nt-. of $4-500.000 tn I , his father. This was the cli- ? max of impudence, knavery, and < hard-heartedness. Think of this young j scoundrel getting such a check cashed, < and through the clearing-house, know- < ing that his father would have to pay < it, or allow the bank to close its dcors. , At first Amos R's indignation was j such that he declared that he would j not pay a cent; this last stab from his j son, he said, was more than he could 1 bear. But one of the directors j of the bank offered to share the \ amount evenly with him, and after,] a time he agreed to the proposition. < One can hardly conceive of "a more j despica*>Jg act than that of young ] Eno's?drawing on a bank of whichJid ,J funds, and after he had confessed to i an embezzlement of $4,500,000! If ] Amos K. Eno had had his own way, ho 1 would have let the banks close its doors ] and would have sent his son to Sing 1 Sing; and he deserves all praise for al- i lowing the interests of the depositors i tu uimveigu ins perbunai leejmiga in c the matter, and for Ms unexampled i generosity in protecting those who, knowing that his integrity was beyond question, supposed that the stock had ? not degenerated in his son.?Boston 2'ranscript. The Coming Woman. ^ If a woman must earn her own liv- b ing there are many technical pursuits c for which she may be qualified- Lith- s ography, modeling in clay or wax, ^ bookkeeping, shorthand writing, wood carving, chasing in gold and silver, <3 and many other handicrafts, are now' a considered womanly occupations, and E any one of them is apt to prove of more c use to the girl who has her own way to s make than a superficial knowledge of theologies, lanzuajres or music- If a | ^ girl is'rich let tier be educated to the ? full extent of her ability; but she ^ should also be trained in some profes- " sion or paying employment, that she ? may be independent of her money, and the more self-respecting on that ac- ^ count If she chooses "she can be as 0 well-informed as to the world about D her as her brother, and wield as great 3 a power. In art, in science, in the 0 field of letters, woman has the possi- c bility of greatness. The storehouses 1; of knowledge open as readily to her D a3 to those of the ether sex. She b should accurately value the nobility of Z labor and tho dignity.of independence. ' Matrimony is not the only harbor P in jvhich she may safely anchor, and P cafching a husband is not the chief end a of life. If an adequate physical train- t ing be au led to mental culture, so that ,D a woman has limbs she can get along a with and a stomach that will digest ? he? dinner, she will join to the vigor a of precedent generations a mental g breadth to which they never attained, * This is the coming woman dreamed of 1^ by the poet, not tfiose other ' Laughing slocks of Time, ' g Whose trains are in their hands and in their f; heels, But fit to flaunt, to dress, to dance, to thrum, " To tramp, to scream, to burnish and to scour, t Forever slaves at, home and tools abroad. ?Philadelphia Record. q There are no less than half a dozen ? dog schools in New York, where dogs are taught some very neat tricks for ? $150.' Cogs with diplomas vouching for graduation from this institution are worth from $500 to $1,000. 2 Members of the Mexican Legislature wear full dress suits of black, with " white ties and often gloves. Nearly ? all the members are of middle age, with J1 , , ,1? li biacic nair ana eyes, ana naraiy a gray or bald head can be seen. The Indian pupils at Hampton are a not quick in mathematics. A number ] a of them exhibited much consternation a the other day when told that two and (j two made four. The general opinion was that two and two made two. One of James R. Scene's extrava- & gances was a private barber, who ^ traveled four miles daily to scrape the f] face and nib the head of the dethroned c Wall street king, who now owes th& ; a barber $1,000 for services rendered. I g An acropolis of immense extent has j g just been discovered at Ekhmeem, Up- u per Eo-ypt. Five great tombs, or cata- p 20m OS, UllCiUIJ upcuovi. li^fUJlUUCU XL>\J 11 mummies, and the sites of over 100 n catacombs have been verified- a 0': :-3iw: The fibi'e of silk is the longest continuous fibre known. An' ordinary cocoon'of the well-fed silk worm will- t' often reel 1,000 yards, and reliable d accounts are given by Count Dandolb- t of a cocoon yielding 1,295yards, or j fiber nearly three-quarters of a mile in' c length. ... i f *' *" - - \ ... Brooks as Sewers. When a natural water course traverses a town and its banks become built upon, the easiest way of getting rid of filth and house wastes is to throw them into the stream. Everyman's instinctive impulse is to get rfd of what annoys him, and not to mind how his neighbor will be effected- After a while, when the watercourse has become sufficiently nasty, the people come to a realizing sense of what they have brought upon themselves, and , then they try to devise a remedy. In j this they begin usually at the wrong j end. They look on the stream as creat-' ing the nuisance, and don't consider: that it is their abuse of the stream that; is the source of the trouble. So they ! go to work and cover the stream up : and call it a sewer. What is the result? i Simply that the stench of the foul matter in the old channel is bottled up somewhat, to be ven^ytoppgh manhole, jevery inlet and^ejy'-ho^o drain, and probably do rhoreteaTinjury than when the rotting filth wis exposed to the air and. the.sun, and.diffused its ! aroma- through the whole atmosphere, j The channel of a small natural stream ! through a town or-village-ought never \ O I o o - I to Reconverted into S sewer for house f wastes. This will Strike a good many people as an odd doctrine, but still it is a" sound doctrine. The functions of a natural stream and a sewer are so diversified tbcx one canDOt be made to do duty for the other. A natural water course serves for the drainage of the land all along its course, [ts banks cannot be made watertight: without obstructing the natural pro-' gpress -of the water in the soil, and back- | ing it up. and retaining it where it: DUght not to be retained.' A sewer, j on the other hand, is intended to carry j off foul matters which must be gotten j rid of as quickly as possible, and the ' channel conveying them must be abso- j lutely impervious, s*o that nothing can (" scat through it to the soil. As the level of the water in the soil rises and [alls with the season and the amount -vr rain, an ooen-iointed or nrevious ~~ ' "IT ? X channel would sometimes admit water from the. soil and sometimes permit fluids flowing in the channel above the level of the ground water to flow out, a.hd thus pollute the soil and the air in ; the soil. Again, a natural stream draining a i considerable territory is subject to: ?reat variations in its volume. A chan- I ael to carry its extreme discharge in I floods must be many times larger than j ;an ever be nccessary for tho carriage , 5f the greatest amount of sewage that j ;an bo brought to it A large channel : is not suited to the rapid removal of a! >mail flow of filthy fluids, and, more- ! jver, costs a great deal more than a 1 >cwcr of the proper size. Even if the Large channel for a fluctuating stream j .s built through a village the sewage ; "rom the houses should not be turned ! nto it unless the minimum volume of j ;he natural flow in tS'e dryest seasons j is large enough to keep the channel j thoroughly scoured. There are a good ! many small towns which have for years rotten along-without sewers and have irehed over natural watercourses running througa tne heart of the town, but are now impelled by the "sanitary royj\r*l^y ta oortetrndt gofers for removing household wastes. The first impulse is to utilize the covered streams ;o save expense of constructing a few lundred feet of sewer. They should 3e very careful how they proceed. It s better to spend a little more money md be safe, than to economize in first :ost and spend ten times the savings n doctors' fees and undertakers' bills. ?Saniary Engineer. 3very Person a Lunatic Now and Then. Ti ? TV 1J C : jrroi. i/uviu owing ?xys; iuc lam | hat a druggist of this city has ended a inman life by putting up wrong mediine awakens" much indignation. He ays many customers were in the store; ie wac in a hurry; he put up morphine Qstead of some similar drug. The question arises whether the clerk is Ible to fill an order only when he has to customers in the shop? How empty lust the shop be in order to secure afety? Must the street in front of the jug store also be empty? What if a ire engine goes by?. What if a dog ight occurs while the druggist is reachrtg for quinine? Is he justified in takag down strychnia? What if his moher-in-law has come to visit him? Such questions come up and proper p; but there is another side to the fact, f erring druggists, and that is that aost persons are crazy part of the time. ?he exceptions are few and rare. Each ne is now and then a fool of the most omplete order and species. All the &ws in the world will not avail to ia?e a druggist or anybody else have is full senses through all his life. Cray moments or seconds will come. A rise man will step backwards off a torch, or into a mud puddle, a great ihilosopher will hunt for the specs that ,re in his hand or on his forehead, a iarber will sometimes forget his busiess and slices oft a niece of a chin or , nose or an ear, a hunter will someLmes shoot himself or bis dog. A girl t Marshall Field's had been feeding a Teat clothing knife for ten years. Last reek she watched the knife come slowj down upon her hand. Too late she roke out of her stupor with one hand one. For a few seconds her mind had ailed and she sat by her machine a emporary lunatic and had watched he knife approach her own hand. The man recently murdered on North Jlark .street of Chicago saw the enemy ome up with murder in his face, saw im draw a revolver, and, instead of l.aking a lightning spring at the man, e stood bewildered and thus fell dead, [is reason left him in the second of his reatest need. .One of the distinguished professors i.one of our colleges was teaching ear a canal. Walking along one even- 1 2g in summer he walked as deliberatej into the canal as he had been walkig along the path a second before. Eo ras brought to his senses by the water nd mud and the absurdity of "the sitution. He had on a new suit of clothes nd a new silk hat, but, though the amage was thus great, he still laughs i ver the adventure. Our mail collectors 'find in the iron oxes all sorts of papers and articles rhich have been put in by some hand :om whose motions the mind has be- | ome detached for a secqnd. A glove, 1; pair of spectacles, a deed, a mort-1 age, a theater ticket goes in and on ! oes the person holding on to the reglar letter that should have been deosited. This is called absent-mindedess, but that is a brief lunacy. A luetic is a person whose mind is habitully out of balance. .Mrs. Hammersley, the defendant inj he great will case in New York, is i escribed as "an extremely pretty wo-! aan, less than 26 years of'a^e, and the j possessor of a fortune of $5,000,000. | >he was a Miss Price, of Troy, and her aarried life was very brief." Music in Newsboys' Souls. ?i?? i A reporter for the New York Mail and Express was sauntering up the Bowery. Three little newsboys mshed ! along with harmonicas in their mouths and molasses candy in their fists. An I Italian was seated at the end of his I stand upon a camp-stool* The familiar v ! strains of "Sweet Violets" floated trom ' a diminutive harmonica in his mouth. j A ragged little fellow rushed forth . i from a, store against a fat old gentleman. The obese gentleman* picked himself up with a naughty word just in time to see the urchin scurrying down the street with a mouth orzan held aloft triumphantly in his hand. The reporter stepped into the store whence the boy ha"d issued: "What was the cause of the boy's excitement?" "The harmonica," replied the proprietor. "A newsboy that don't own hamonica potato. - .The craze for. lUc-m-ts^some thing astoundmg. I'self hun<te&is of them" every week. Newsboys, "workingmen, girls, and women?all buy the mouth organ. That little newsboy that just rushed. out has often stood on the walk looking into my window with longing eyes. He has to bring home all his * earnings. A gentleman handed him 10 . cents this morning-for picking tip a' dropped handkerchief. In less ' than five minutes ho was here."-{ . j.. .: "Do you sell a harmonica for 10 cents?" "Certainly I do. Wo have them for but a lO^cent one 1s as good a $1 one. We used to sell the small ones for 25 cents. Since the reduction to- 10 * cents we have sold large quantities of them. The fact is, we seldom sell ^ any other than a 10-cent month organ. The newsboys get considerable music from these cheap toys. Some of the boys will produ.cc a distinct bass and treble. Last month I was walking ^ 3 'down Chatham street on a moonlight night A crowd was gathered on one corner. Inside the-ring that had been formed stoom a' 12-year-old urchin, playing' "When the Leaves Begin to Turn"on a 10-cent harmonica. Four ^ _ couples of gamins were lying to dance V the Waltz. They cut the most ludicrous ^ antics, accompanied by grotesque grimaces that excited the hilarity of* the crowd. A policeman hove in sight, and the crowd, gamins and. men vanished into a collar saloon." "You have some jewsharps; do they sell?" "No. Three-years ago they were all the rage. N ow, no one but old men use tViPm Thorp, isn't much music in aiews harp. Still, an old clergyman was in here yesterday who got some sweet tones out an old iron jewsharp. He said % he had a silver one at home. It cost kim $5. He plays it every night aftej. dinner." "Are accordions used much?" "The accordion is more popular than x, is generally supposed. Much fun is poked at it, but" a good accordion in skilled hands will produce very pleasant music. IndeecC the accordion takes the place of the piano in poor families. It is used to sing and dance by. It has a double advantage over the piano. It is cheap, and. ^can be carried arojaud for use different oarties and/d ancos''' * ^ . "How much does ail accordion cost?" 'A good one brings from $5 to $15. > I sell a splendid one for $20. Both > the accordions and the harmonicas that I sell arc imported from Germany. No, I do not think any are mado in * this country." Ladies' Stationery. . Few things, among personal belongings, speak more plainly of refinement, or its opposite than the sort of stationery that one uses. Even now one shudders at the recollcction of certain envelopes of extravagant narrowness and of a violent solferino hue, which were used by fashionable young ladies some _ eighteen or twenty years ago. Hardly better, however, are the styles of today. Stationers have gone "quite daf$ on the subject of fancy writing papers. . We see not only stationery .of every color, but of every texture from the tough, thin, foreign paper to the thick and hideous imitation of alligator skin and pebbled leather. Seme"time ago folks laughed at enthusiastic seekers for oddities who were writing notes upon paper, which had to all appearances been through a fire. The edges were scorched and irregular dashes of what seemed to be smofe defaced the page. Now these same lovers of novelty are rejoicing in stationery which looks as though it had been sprinkled with muddy water and then dried. It's hue is dingy, its edges are -crumpled and dirty, but how happy are these maidens" who use it. They are in the fashion. They care comparatively little what they write, since they are quite . certain they have the "newest thing" in writing paper. The convenient fashion of corrcspondencefcards is passing by, yet perhaps it is. not altogether considered a pity, for, while pleasant* it was just one of the easy fashions which tempt the sending of a multitude of hasty little billets, and lead us to neglect more than ever, letter-writing as a fine and graceful art To repeat v what has been said manvtimes without effect, eccentricity is never truly elegant, and people of the finest breeding use plain white paper of the antique parenment, or royal Irish linen brands. They do not indulge in colored inks, neither are their pages perfumed. The only addition to the plain white station^ ery?save the trifling one of the thoughts expressed thereon by the ? ; writer?is the seal, neatly made of red or violet wax, and clearly impressed by the signet ring, with the crest of the family arms. To conclude with a friendly warning to those very youthful letter-writers who most affect fancy stationery, be very sure of vour spelling and your chirography before you cail attention to either by the splendor or novelty of the paper on which you write.?Bodon Courier. ' ^ i ? The Pest of Flies. ... a ? 1 .> .1 11 mi i 4 \ 11 4a mm awaUamma* J\U XUWtt lauj >Yiiwjo nj au. c-i-vtumgui "For three years I have lived in town, and during that time my sitting-room has been free from flies, three, only walking about my breakfast table, while all my neighbors' rooms are crowded- I often congratulate myself on my escape, but never knew" the reason of it until a few. days ago. I then had occasion to remove my goods to another house, while: I remained on for a few days longer. Among other things removed were the boxes of geraniums and calcolarias, which stood in my window, being open to its full ovtpnt; ton and bottom. The boxes were not gone half an hour when, my room,was as full of flies as those.of my neighbors around me. This, to me, was a new discover}*, and perhaps it may serve to encourage others in that which is always a source of pleasure, namely, window gardening. Mignonette, planted in' long, shallow boxes, placed on the window sill, will be " found excellent for this purpose." -