Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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" ~ ~~ ~ WINNSBORO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 1, 1885. ~ I*Tw8s a day of storm, for the giant Atlantic, rolling in pride. Drawn by the full moon, driven by tbe fierce wind, dde upon tide. Flooded our goor little Channel. A hundred Were'watching a breach new broken?when suddenly some one cries, "A boat coming in!"?and, rounding tbe pier?id that hid her before. There, sure enough, was a stranger smack, head straight for tbe shore. How will she where each wave is a m/Mmfuin? * 1 E uivwMtaiwi ? lAlV iVl UV Eun up a there fc# show ber or: the right place! Sbo ia 1.1 land now! She is close?v.? rush on the galloping wavetop?s. stand. As the -water sinks from beneath her?her -o?e touches the land. And tfeeo (as rude h;*xls, sacking a city, rieedy of prey, To8S,Tjt6oaje littered chamber, a child's toy Bfrhtly away), A gy?4t wave rose from behind, and lifting her, towored, and broke, ,A?<J flung hef headionjr, down on the hard beacb. close to the folk. C*uh: * * ? But 'tis only her bowsprit gone?ske is saved somehow; . * * And a cheer broke out, for a hundred hands have hoM of her now.' f" J;.; " 1 they 'twas her bowsprit saved her, or r&ue mast nave jroae over iaca; Her bowsprit it whs that saved her; and little they think, those men." Of one weak wore an that prayed, as she J watched them ten;pest-driven! They say 'twas her bowsprit saved her! I say, 'twas that prayer, and Heaven J MY SISTER SUSETTA. "I am going, Addie, so it is useless to argue the point," my sister says, as she stands on tip-toe to pluck a rose tli:>t is almost out of her reach, her loose sleeve falling back from her beautifully-molded arm with, its dimpled elSusetta is so pretty that everybody falls in love with her?men, women, taiid children; but she has her faults? whp has not??and her obstinacy ; makes me sigh. She is affinnced to one of the best young men that ever drew breath; but they quarrel so often that I wonder if their engagement will ever end in marriage. > 4 Trevor Chudleigh is awfully fond of v. her; but she does lead him such a dance! Now, if I only had a lover like Tre^ vor, how differently I would behave. Alas! I am not a beauty, and although i "handsome is as handsome does" is a very good saying, young men, as a rule, prefer pretty faces to plain ones. .Trevor is away, worse luck! and before he went begged Sxsetta not to at> r tend those awful races. It wasn't mnch to ask^I tMnk; but Susetta says he is a tyrant, and if she doesn't get ^ some enjoyment out ot me Deiore sae is married,, she never will afterward. v She is going with those Fieidwicks, and Trevor always says that Mrs. Fieldwick is fast She eertainly does paint and powder n . openly, as'indifferent to criticism on "X . that point as Lady Morgan; but she's * an amiable woman for all that Still, f if I were Susetta, I would not seek her - * society, knowing Trevor'^s dislike to her. But poor Susetta is so fond of pleasw ure. It is a perfect mania with her. ' She always wants to be amusing herself, and hates quiet as much as I love it wcmdtfT -how Trevor and ~will get on if they-ever do mar rl>f xvi. jj\? ? dv giavc auu oiuuiv ujliu she "so giddy and flighty. He said to me one day?how well I remember his words? "Addie, I wish your sister resembled you in your fondness for home. She " always wants to be gadding about. I P never saw such a restless creature in my life!" "You must bear with her," I answer. ed. "She is so youn<* and pretty. Tre^ vor, and we have made such a pet of ? her. She does..not know what it is to be denied anything she wants." Vltnow you always stand np for m v^er? ?e'observed with a smile; "you are a good girl, Addie." This was befere he went away to London on business. He has been gone about a week, and Susetta has had a h , letter from him every morning. Happy Sasetta! What more can she want since she has his love? It would not be rauc'i of a sacrifice to stay away . ' from the rapes.? Sasetta looks lovely in her blue dress, cocuettish hat, and blue veil, and it * isn t likely, she tells rae, that she is going to stick at home whale other peopie are enjoying themselves. "If old Trevor"?he is eight-andtwenty-?"doesn't like it he can do the A other tiling," she says, with a laugh. Kh "Why don't you marry him yourself, |a| you little prude?" mm "Because he never asked .me," is my quiet reply; "but if a good man loved !?p^ me I would never trifle with his feelings, PCX Susetta." "You are perfection, and I am not," L says my pretty sister. "Good-bve, r Addie." t And she hurries out of the house, for a smart four-in-hand has just drawn up at the door, and going to the window I watch Susetta as she is helped . up to the top and takes "her place be< side Mrs. Field wick, whose red and 7> v white is laid on extra thick I fancy to^ day. Then I sit dcwn on the sofa and cry a little for Trevor, but more for myself. "I- - 1 Z 1 JX T va: u 3e aau tuv cu me, uvn ca^ci ij x would have obeyed his slightest wish! But he does not love me?so what is the use in indulging in such thoughts? They are foolish and wrong. Mother and our one servant are not* ( ? very observant, but the fear that they may notice that I have been weeping mates me dry my eyes; bat not because fc I have made myself uglier than ever. Perfection, Susetta caSed me. Yes, I am a perfect fright ^ I look at myself steadily in the mirror. What do I see? A small pale * - face, light eyes, and sandy hair. An t entrancing picture, truly. Alma TsHemx savs a woman witfe a beautiful figure seldom has a beautiful ^ face, and my figure is undeniably good. Sosetts. has oftea told me so for ray consolation, when I have admired her pretty features. There is a double knock at our front door, and our servant being busy I open , it m "A telegram, miss," says the bpy who stands there. It is for Susetta, and I open it without hesitation, for Susetta and I have no secrets from eacii other. To my dismay, it is from Trevor to say that he will be with Sasetta that ^ afternoon. Of course, she would not , behere to receive him, Wfiai will he calmly; "My dear, it is no business of ours; Susetta must manage her own affairs. , She would go to the races, and your sister and Trevor must settle the matV ter between them." fr - Mother is a little bit vexed with Sucftfto -fro? TVavai* ia ? rorr wwvl m<Mi_ and sh8 might hare stopped at home for once just to please him. k MIf she had only known he was comr* ing to-day," I say regretfully, "sho * , . v : would not have gone in that case, and all would have been well.",., "Don't you bother your dear little head over Susetta'js. affairs," returns mother; kissing- me.. "YoaUl .fiiye enough io do'ifriyoa troubler- yourself about her. There never"" Was^such an obstinate self-willedgi&J' "But she love's Trevor,*" I say earnestly. "I doubt it," returns mother, shaking: her head. "If she cared for him she would be ready to make a greater sacrifice than stopping away from the races for his sake. "But she is so pretty, mother, and so fond of pleasure. "All the worse for Trevor," retorts mother, who is deeply vexed. "But since you are so staunch in her defense, I'll leave you to make excuses for her. My head aches, and I am" going to lie down." "Bat, oh, mother! what can I say to him?" I cry.in dismay. "Just what you please," returns mother. "If i" were to see him, I should tell him what I think of Susetta's behavior, and you would object to that, I know." "Oh, mother! don't be hard on our petted darling," I say, and mother's face relaxes, and I see" a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth; but she won't wait to see Trevor, neverthe-* lessHe will look so bright and eager when he comes into the room, and I shall see such blank disappointment on his face, as he looks in vain for Susetta ?Susetta who is enjoying herself at the races in company with those objectionable Field wicks. I go to the piano, but. rise from the music stool in a very few minutes, and take up a book, then, throwiBgitdown, begin to walk restlessly to and fro, for I can settle to nothing. T Vaam TVat-av I* r? n or ofi i i ucai vi auwAiug the hall door. I know his rat-tat-tat so well, and an instant later he is in the room, asking eagerly for Susetta. "TTas she not pleased to get my telegram?" he continues. "She was far away from home when it came," I say, trying to appeal' at my ease, "so I opened it^ "Quite right, sister Addie," returns Trevor, looking a little disappointed, but still speaking cheerfully. "But where is Susetta? "She is spending the day with sow? friends," I answer, with a foolish u* sire to put off telling the truth as long as possible. Trevor's handsome face darkens, and . his eyes flash ominously, as he says: "Adeline, shfe has never gone to the races??she would not do that after what I have said. But you don't an swer me. She has gone, then?" I am still silent, and Trevor begins to pace up and down the room in a state of the greatest agitation. He is terribly put out, and makes no attempt to hide it from me. 1 1 * " * ' "And I shortened my stay in London, and hurried back for this," he says, bitterly, coming to a standstill before my chair. "Addie, I am beginning to wonder if Susetta is worthy of all the love I have lavished upon her." "Nonsense, Trevor," I say", quickly. "You most not speak like_th&t_,of my_ sister- t Sheila loollsii,' 1 Know; bat^ there is nofca;better"girl in' the'whole! world.? 1 He gives me a quick glance as I finish speaking, and sighs impatiently. "1 know one thing," ho says, after a pause; 4,she could not have a better sister. Why is it you always take her pan, -a.uu.ie. .nave juu uv ojiuya i>ujf for me?" He puts liis hand on my shoulder as he speaks, never dreaming how that light touch thrills me; and how hard it is to steady my voice, as I reply: "I sympathize with you both. Ah! if you would only take 'Bear and forbear for your motto?" "Have I not borne enough already?" demands Trevor, with . another sigh. 4'Addie," he cries, suddenly, and the blood rushes to his face, "she has not gone with the Fieldwicks? She has! Then, by Heaven! I will never forgive her." f-g "Hush, Trevor!" I say soothingly. "You will be sorry for talking like this when your anger is over. After all, she has not done anything desperately wrong." ... "WolWM mn I hesitate for a moment, scarcely knowing what reply to make; but I must say something in my sister's defense, and I answer, gently: "You forget how different we are, Susetta and L She is so fond of pleas-, ure, and I have ever been a iiorae bird."' "What a fortunate man your husband wi'.I be!" says Trevor. "You are the woman to make.a man's home happy, and fill his life with sunshine." ""But men love beauty," I say, with a faint smile. % "Then men are fools." exclaims Trevor, forgetting that his remark is. scarcely complimentary, and he, at any" rate, has not been proof against the fascination of a pretty face. "I mean," he adds, quickly, "that a man who is wise will seek a wife who is good, as well as beautifuL" "The man who is wise will not marry at all," I observe _ laughingly. "He that tafces a wite tates irouoxe ana car^J sr^r T Bui Trevor is joot ixt the humor . to laugh at anything." He hates the idea of Susetta associating with the Fieldwicks, and is deeply wounded that she should have gone to the races, in defiance of his wishes. Trevor and I are in the garden "when the four-in-hand dashes up to the gate, and l notaoe' with horror that . Mr. Fieldwick shows evident signs of havinghadtoo much champagne. He wears aialse hose, and presents a wholly comical/ appearance. At any other time I should End it impossible not to laugh; but now I can feel nothVinf /??ewor ?usetta is helped down by a young man with light hair, and stands at the gate as the coach bowls along the road. She has not seen Trevor yet When ! she does, her cheeks lose a little oi their rich bloom, and a half-frightened, half-defiant, look comes into her eyes. "Yon here, Trevor," she. says, holdi ing out her hand. "You did not expect to see me," he i observes, coldly. "If I had, I should have stopped at home," she answers, and then I slip indoors and let them alone. R Presently Susetta joins me, but without Trevor. They have quarrelled it seemed and parted in anger. "Susetta/ I say. entreatingly, "you have not sent him away?" "He has gone, my dear," she answers, and begins to sing; but I fancy her Toice trembles a Ufue. "Oh, Susetta,,vI say, "pray think of what you are doing. Ee lores you so!" "He says he-neyer wanlsuto. soe my face again," she" answers,'and" then continues her song. y - r It is growing dark, but I fancy I cam see a figure lingering near the gate. ? \ \ ? uan it be Irevor?. "Snsetta," ;I.say, "do you know Trevor is going.to leave England?" It is an awful lib, for be had never said so; but it is what I imagine he will do if his estrangement with Susetta continues* and I cannot bear to see these two ..people, who lore each other, spoiling their lives from sheer obstinacy and Bl-temper. I love them so dearly that X would fain see them happy. "Going to leave England because I went to the races. 1 suppose vou tnean," says Susetta. "Well, let him go?I don't-care!" "H youdonteare.whyare you crying ?** 1 ast, hoping that she is crying; for ram nbt; sure of it, and the assertion isonlya bold venture on my part : "I am not crying," replies my sister, in achokipg voice. "If, Trevor-loves me soilittfe. that he can leave me for ever because I committed- an act of folly, he isn't worth crying $bout Perhaps if ho ;l5ar?3my consEien^:hadugrieked me all dzjt iad, howil^ad; resolved never to. go out with. those horrid, people again, he wouldn't .have been so hard upon me."-. 1 "It is too late' now," I say, watching Trevor's shadow.. "After all, dear, he was tporexacting, you'll find some one inore^kiiki ;and "considerate^and learn. ti> forget .him." .: . ;u-. . :: .. I "Never!" replied my sister, indignantly. "If you had ever been in love, cnii Wftrfd IcnoW'thaf'suefi a thins is impossible. You have no feeling iSelihe.",^ s- ... "Darling^! TIuSl cxpjessionv.idoes not (some from me", but from Trevori; who, " feapiiig window, "clasps Susetta in liis arms. : I am aboutj0-i^eyre^fjrom the room, when Trevor? sCi& holding my- sister' ra his embrace, takes my hand and lifts it to. his lips. j "Addie," he says, "I shall never forget the service you have done me. " > "Was it a plot between yon?" asks Susetta, struggling to free herself. Trevor sf^utiy denies this, and so do I, and Suse&St appears satisfied. But in her own mijld 1 fancy she stall has her doubt&XrISknow one thing, she is always^frat'eful to me for what I ..did that night.If she knew all, perhaps she Wj^uKI be.mot.e grateful still, | A; Picture?The Creoles. J 5 .ffil ' \ ' ?* ~ A correspondent ofthe San Francisco ^tgonaut^vTiting from New element here- is cxclnsiv^ia the^eixtreme. It hasja vigorous contempt for the;American element of 1.the>itjv-apd-l am informed' by a very. ola^Bwflent here- that there are manydenizens of ' the" French (jnarter who have never crossed Canal street. They are content Jo live and die in one place, and desire no fame7 outside of their own neighborhood. In that respect they are like the Parisians they so abjectly adore. Who has not' heard rhapsodical descriptions of the Creole girl given by hard breathing and thick lipped enthusiasts?her voluptuous figure, 'heavyiidded and languishing eyes, dark hair, and olive and oval face, which she car-' ries about in a please-some-one-loveme expression? Don't dream about <"?y mo-rtv- --Como and see her. Look at her, as she <slouehes' out of a. doorway, "in a calico wrapper, the pattern and color of which long ago ceased to be obvious, and drags herself along to the adjoining house to gossip -with anothor beauty. Mark how the heels of her slippers .have been vigorously "run down" till there is no after-section at all to speak of, and then follow the squat figure up to the head- The face is always an interesting one, but seldom beautiful. Almost invariably the mouth is large and the teeth prominent, but the chin is dimpled and small. The cheekbones are high, the eyes dark, and the skin is' coarse andgreasy, often covered with ill-laid streaks of powder. She is clever, tnougn, wnen sue iaiK.s, ana i 'often very bright, and she bas the same I idea of honor that her lackadaisical sister has on the other side of town, jln this respect the girls of New Or!leans are all alike?they , will never brook familiarity from a comparative ;stranger, and their street manners are | severe and proper in the highest de'gree. Once the ice is broken, however, : they rush to a finish at headlong speed. Tomen to whom they have not "been > properly introduced they are ice; to men they know they are gushing, fiopf ping, and effusive even in public. Celluloid Versus Linen. \ "Celluloid cufis and collars are worn (more generally now than ever before," j said a wholesale and retail dealer on j Broadway to a reporter. "How do you account for that fact?" " "It is simply a question of economy. : Washing now is high. It costs almost as much to launder a pair of linen cuffs and collars as it does to buy them. The celluloid articles can be cleaned ?t _ 4 ptjjlltjuviv cui 11KJ wdk niuiiu tnw aajua utes. When celluloid cuffs were first made they were too thick and rattled too audibly when they came in contact with any hard substance. This was i quite objectionable. But now those manufactured are so thin and pliable and so much like linen that few people could detect their quality unless they felt them." , 4,Do you sell them principally in ; New York?" "A great celluloid trade is done in the west. The washerwomen out there must be either bad or hard to get, so the men wear celluloid cuffs and collars and save time, trouble and anuoyance. You would be surprised if I told you some of the hip-h-toned men about town who wear them. They don't disguiso \ the fact, and swear they have gone back on linen collars and cuffs forever. Celluloid goods always appear laun dered, and never melt dcwn in hot weather. The big celluloid cuff and collar trade begins in the summer months. Youths going to Coney Island with their sweethearts want them and old men too. They are becoming so popular that I predict that within ten years they will altogether supersede linen for collars, and cuffs."?N. T. Mail and Express. Chinamen are generally not numerous around or near mining-camps, being in ill-favor with the miners. Here wa3 the only one we saw, a seemingly bright fellow, who said he was naturalized, and with a seven-by-nine smile said: "Ale pliceman on my mother's side and washwoman on my father's cir?o " TTa was chattering to himself in his tea-box language when one of the miners, with an oath, informed him that if he didn't make less noise he'd start a lead-mine in him. It had its effect.?Cor. N. Y. Evening Post. A twenty dollar Confederate note was passed on a Chinese merchant in Portland , Ore., last week. It was difficult for the police justice to make him understand that the note was not a forgery, but simply worthless. He had never heard of the lost cause. K/AUVT32 $ 2PT I s / FAMOUS SONGS OF PRAISE. Hymns that Have Been Son; for ilany Centuries. ??? The Roman Catholic church has ever been the friend of the arts of painting, ; sculpture and music, and without her ; "cherishing care much that we now \ have as glorious relics ? of early art would have been destroyed and lost. ; This is especially true of music. The * highest and grandest contributions to the musical art have been inspired by the Catholic church, and are the work oi ner votaries, in tne music mat waa sung in the churches recently some of the hymns are 800 years old, coming to us out of what we are pleased to term the darkness of the middle ages. The Gregorian chant, or tones, a } name given to certain choral melodies, } gets its name from Pope Gregory the * Great, who was himself a musician and taught at the Lateran palace,' so that this form of music comes to us from about 590-600. Thi3 ecclesiastical chant is the chant of the Catholic ? church all over the world. In it we have all that the priest sings at the mass, and it is in general use by choirs of ecclesiastics, in the course of time abuses of one kind or another crept'" into church music, for the reason that there was no established form, until ? the time of Tope Marceiius ll, aoout 1555. In his time music had so degenerated that he thought to throw it out of the church altogether. Before proceeding to this extreme step, however, a consultation was held with Palestrinf, a great musician. He promised the pope to introduce music that would not be chargeable with the grossness and i uncouthness of that which it was to supersede. He composed tho work ' known as the Messa di Papa Marcello (the mass of Pope Marceiius) which was so thoroughly a success that the pope accepted him, and gave him full powers to go on and recast and remodel as he chose. The mass of Pope Marceiius is a magnificent work, it ; was given at the recent plenary council at Baltimore. This style of music -i _^ t - v-3 j IS lUHl WJUCU 1ULUJ3 LUC UUU ui wan ' made known by the Cecilian society,.; which is now widely spread over the [ Uuited States with the intent of jen| couraging good classical church music. This ralestrina music is the style used' ? in the Sistine chapel, where the pope 3 to-day will celebrate Easter. The eel- ; e bra ted Misereres for which the Sis tine chapel is famous in Holy week, composed by Baini, Mustapha, and others, are sung in that music, and to ) hear them during tho week just closed . people flocked to the chapel from ail ! parts of the world. The grandest musical achievements of the masters of the past one hundred years have been ; in church,mu6ic. and tne names of Beethoven, Meyerbeer, Haydn, Handel, . Mozart, Mendelssohn, and, later,.Kossini and Gounod, are attached to numerous so-called themes. Gouuod, who }; is still living, has composed a beautiful . Ave Maria. Mercadante has composed, a number of beautiful masses. The. \ 1 Ti masses most popular in xwuiu io-uayj? are those of Morcadante, Tirziana.jF and De Pietro, a Jesuit Kossini'sr, Stabat Mater is always a favorite^ inx| Rome. Of Pales trina's music it should..]. be understoocLEhat. ft was. | ten by him,"1Snt taught, and^S'Tradi- : tionai. No less a person than the illustrious Charlemagne himself is the reputed i author of the "Veni Creator Spiritur," | who died at Aix-la-chapelle, his crown upon his head, and his copy of the I gospels upon his knees, Jan: 28, 814, ! so that it is now at least 1074 years old. The 4tO Salutaris Hostia" is a hymn sung during the office called benediction, at the moment when the tabernacle is opened in order that the consecrated host may be removed and placed ' in the monstrance prep area lor its solemn exposition. The custom of introducing' this hymn at high mass is at least as old as the fifteenth century, while the hymu itself is prob ably much older. This theme has been treated by many musical composers. The "Magnificat" has been used as the vesper canticle of the chnrch from time immemorial, and the evening office has also been so constructed as to lead up to it as its chief point of interest The text of the "Magnificat" ha3 been grandly illustrated by Bach, Mendelssohn, and active composers of the iQodern school in the oratorio style, with full orchestral accompaniments. King Robert IL, of France, who succeeded to the throne of his father, Hugh Capet, in 997, is credited with the authorship of the Veni Sancte opirifcus njrlLlIl, 21 11} 111U >V UlUU 13 IBgarded as "the loveliest of all the hymns in the whole circle of Latin sacred poetry." The king was a saint, a poet, and a musician, and his ability to compose this great hymn is not improbable. The Stabat Mater is a Good Friday hymn. Its author, Jacobus de Benedicts, was boru at Todi, of the noble Italian house of Benedetto, and rose to distinction as a jurist About 1268 he lost his wife, and, broken-hearted, renounced the world to join the order of St Francis. There are several English translations of this great. hymn. The following is the opening stanza of a recent translation by no less celebrated a person than our countryman, the late Gen* John A. Dix, while minister plenipotentiary at Paris: Near the cross the Savior bearing:. Stood the mother lone despairing; Bitter tears do-wn-lalling fast. Wearied wag her heart with grieving:, Worn her breast with sorrow heaving; Through her soul the sword had passed. ?Indianapolis Journal. The ordinary Atlantic storm waves are not more than thirty feet high, but when the barometric pressure is unusually low at the storm's center and relatively high around its outer circle the level of the sea is raised over a large area, and the winds blowing in on the center occasionally heap up the waters to tie height of forty-five feet In a monograph published by the hydrogr&phic office, it is stated that storm waves, at rale intervals, haVe been observed mounting from forty-four to forty-eight feet above the sea level. TViafr tSo (Xt.r-m?n i r? apottaHo A "mountain of water" sufficiently demonstrates her prowess, despite the scathing she received. A Bright Boy." While teaching in a large school in Pennsylvania Miss Crayon had sole charge of a not particularly bright little fellow whose education had just begun. During the reading lesson one day Georgie stumbled and come to a dead stop at the.word mat "Spell it Georgie," said, the teacher. "M-a-t," read the boy. "Well, what is it?" Dnn'fc know." "Oh yes, you do," said Miss Crayon, encouragingly. "Come now Georgie, what do you wipe your feat on?" "Oh!" cried the little fellow with & long-drawn sigh of relief, "M-a-t, towel ["-^-Harper's Bazar. v. A War Picnic. ' While Longslreet was in front of Suf- , folk, writes Ned Buntline, pecking at is with Wright's batteries, instead of coming in and "wiping us oat," as he could have done before we were rein- j forced, a report came in that he was massing a heavy force to the southeast our lines, our weakest point of defense. To learn the true state of things 1 at that point i was sent with a small ; c/*tntin<r -nartv fcv the wav of the Shingle ^ c j - - * w company s canal into Lake Drummond, to scout'from thence south of the Dismal swamp. ' Going in skiffs, we reached a landing on tolerably solid ground, and tamped for the nteht on a little knoll in $ dense thicket of scrub pine, a half ioHe or thereabout from the point of landing. Of course, I had sentinels Jtell out from our bivouac, for we knew from many sounds that the enemy were iaot far from us. All went well through tie night, and at dawn we made coffee *nd cooked some venison that I had jK&,ffozn old. Sfoke. at the head of the ^Salaa We came by his place on.the previous afternoon. The . sentinels were called in to breakfast, for there seemed to be no immediate danger. We iiad just squatted to our conee anu jgrist when a sound struck our ears 5?hich made overv man in silence 1 spring up and grasp his Sharp's car- : bine. It was the heavy tread of men. 1 We had just got our arms in hand when f a dozen men in rebel gray, led by a lieutenant over six feet high and lean as a nail, broke right through the bush 1 in front of us. 1 *' In a 3econd, while both parties stood at a ready, the lieutenant, cried out: < ' "Hold on, Yanks! If you'uns won't shoot, we'uns'll hold fire. That coffee ^mells mighty good?we'uns haven't had none for a year. We've lots of tobacco, though." He and his men looked so gaunt and hungry, and so little like enemies just < then, that I cried out: 5 -"If you'll stack your arms out there and trust to us. you shall share in grub -and coffee, and then be free to go back ': and fi^ht it out if vou want to." "Good as sweet corn! We'uns are 1 mighty hungry, you bet!" * 'They at once stacked arms, and we did the same, and while our cook put more coffee and more steak on the fire yre sat there on the ground, the blue 1 and gray, and talked as if we were old j jfriend& Not about the war or its causes, but about camp life and other 1 things. And the'way our coffce went down, with hard tack aud juicy venison steak, 'would have satisfied the proudest landlord that ever bragged of his table. :r After we had filled up, the Virginians brought out their tobacco, and did their ; share of treating. The lieutenant had a huge canteen of old peach brandy, jmd that went the round! * After we had got so friendly I asked the lieutenant how he came to be in on that point. He replied: : "I was sent to watch lest you 'uns jeame this way in force to take us on :the flank. Our main force is massed ^n front, where the batteries are ready 3k> go in if you uns weaken, ana tne bid man (Longstreet) was afeared you Snts:kt;comc^ t&rough the swamp and 'ta^enS'Srfhe rear! 'What were 'uns doing here?" "Just out on a hunt for fresh meat; got this deer last night." . 1 "Well the best o' luck to you. You : don't feel like fightin1 now do you?" "Not if you boys don't. It would be j a pity to spoil this picnic that way." So we all shook hands, traded coffee . for tobacco, and separated, at least for 1 then, as friends. 1 The next day on the lines we were all throwing lead and iron at each other. The Judge'a Dog Story. "You talk about dogs," said the Judge, "you talk about dogs?1 can tell you the funniest story about a : dog/ - j * * At _ J ! J 1 vuia you Know me aogr sam me doctor. * "I djjd. This dog belonged to a friend of mine, who used always to take him out with him." "A bad habit," pivt in the doctor, "yon should never let a dog know too much." "The dog used to Wait outside for him when he went in to call on a. friend. One night they were a very merry party and they kept it up late. My friend got very drunk. The dog finally got restless and began to howL A champagne bottle just passed his nose and he smelt it and shut up. About 2 o'clock in the morning my friend came out. He said good-night, shut the door, walked in by the garden gale all over the flower-beds, and finally, unable to get out, he lay down on a rosebush and went to sleep. The dog watched by him till the milkman came ! J 1_ aiong in me morning', pic.is.eu. mm up and took him home.5"' "That's nothing," said the doctor. "You just wait a minute- Two or three nights later he went and called on his friend again and took the dog with him. The do~ waited outside a little while and began again to howl. Another champagne bottle was thrown at him. He smelt it, winked to himself and trotted off He went home, scratched at the door till the servant girl opened it, attracted mj friend's wife's attention, made her follow him to a-pile of planks and whined till they 1 got out a very long and broad one. 1 Then he directed them to where his master was, and when the door bell rang and the door opened, the revelers r J J? tiii XOUUU mo UUg, Uljr U1CUU D nriAO, bus servant and a stretcher. That dog i knew what was needed, you bet." < ; "Well," said the doctor, "I thonght ' I knew all the dog stories, but that's a ; new one." No Questions Asked. < As a means of suicide the small venomous serpents of oriental countries : have always been in vogue?the asp of . Cleopatra recurring to every one's mem- ; ory as a prominent example. In certain Darts of Bengal there is said to be a race of gypsiesTone of whom for a fee ; will furnish a small cobra to any appli- , cant, "and no questions asked." A : man who desires to commit murder procures one of these reptiles and places it within a bamboo just long enough to , let the head protrude a trifle at the end, and the tail at the other. Armed : ?/:ih this deadly weapon the murderer . creeps softly to his enemy's tent at dead of night, cuts a hole in the wall, ( and introduces the bamboo. The tortured reptile careless upon whom it 1 wreaks its animosity, strikes its fangs ' into the sleeper, then is withdrawn ] and the assassin steals silently away.? ] Genileman%s Magazine. j German and not English is the lan- < AAmmnn /veinvorafltion amon? 1 6^66 W1 WuimvM the British royal family. If a British J taxpayer were to put'his ear against a wall of Windsor he would be surprised to hear his beloved Wales exclaim, just ] after having stepped upon a tack, : 'Donnerwetterr'?Louisville Com, THE HOME OF THE HAVANA. Some of the Secret* of the Great Industry of CubaHavana furnishes the world with cigars, and in no other place in the world are there so many cigar-factories. Much of the pleasant aromatic favor of the Havana cigar is due to the fact that the fillers are stripped and packed in ordinary flour or potato barrels and allowed to remain for six months. The longer the fillers are stored the stronger the flavor becomes. The method of making cigars in other countries is very J__ xi ueiecuvc, as mss eiquisiw; iutyut is ivau by too much drying. Rainy weather always interferes with the manufacture of cigars, as tobf.cco easily absorbs moisture. The fillers must always be dry before they can be worked. - Poor tobacco is improved by being artificially flavored with Catalan wine, which, undiluted, is entirely too strong to drink- The manufacturer never estimates how many pounds of tobacco will be neededfojc, -a. thousand cigars, but estimalesTiow many cigars can bemad e from a bale. ^ The wrapper is selected with great care, with a view, to giving beauty to the cigar. All the scraps are either reworked into the body of other cheap cigars, or exported to foreign countries for cigarettes. Cigars of an inferior quality are generally pressed flat. Instead of cutting the wrapper leaf from below upward, as is done in this country, in Havana it is done from above downward. Great care is taken to cut out the uppermost part of the leaf, which makes the finest wrapper. The portion that is almost without veins is wrapped around the heads. In making a cigar, the workman takes two or three pieces of leaf and places them flat in his left hand; he IIIUU UAtO UO xxju>iijr owaiyivov/o may be required, rolls them all together in the hand, aad finally applies the wrapper. His chief object is to cover the veins or place them all on one side. By this the skillful manipulator may be recognized. An unpracticed maker will make third-rate cigars out of firstclass tobacco. Another test of a good workman is the amount of scraps he makes a day. A good cigar-maker will average only one-half pound. The heads of the Havana cigar are not fastened with gum or any other sticky substance, but simply by wheat bread. This is tasteless, and every workman carries a well-kneaded portion with him. With very fine Havanas nothing is used to fasten the ends, but they are secured by many skillful twistiDgs that wind into each other. The enjoyment of the fastidious smoker would be blunted if the whole process of cigar manufacturing were laid open to turn. Dirty negroes throw their spittle upon the leaf and tramp around it with their naked feet This, combined with the uncleanliness of many of the factories, is not very inviting information to the lovers of the Ha vana cigar. Everybody in Havana smokes, but the ladies in high life are rather secretive about the matter. The cigar-men smoke continually, and when the employer does not supply them freely with cigars of the finest quality the laborers steal them. First-class ci- _ gars have a line, smooth appearance, the wrapper being without veins and of a beautiful color. Second and third class cigars are of fine quality, but not so well made. The different grades of cigars may be recognized by the different colors of silk bands that bind them in bundles. Great care is taken in embellishing the boxes of fine cigars,some of the orders of the nobility in foreign countries being elaborate in the extreme. Havana tobacco can be harvested but once a year. Attempts have been made to obtain two crops anna ally, but these have been unsuccessful. The best tobacco is known under the name of tobacco de la vueita de abajo. It grows in the regions of the small rivers in the Sierras de los Oranjos. Each year this part of the island is overflown, and a beavy, rich quality of alluvium is deposited on the soiL Irrigation has proved a failure in Cuba. In the growing season a heavy dew falls each night, but the soil, which is a red loam, beccenes dry quickly, and absorbs a great deal of moisture. Only one good crop can be assured in eachlive years. The plant requires great care. Three kinds of worms attack it, and these must be removed at night by the aid of lanterns. This is done by boys, who carry the worms to the planter for their remun- _ eration. In the early part of January the tobacco is ripe for cutting. If the crop is good, all the leaves are cut off the stalk at once, but if the crop is poor the unripe leaves are left to grow out more. The early crop is much the better. It is recognized by the beautiful color and mellow appearance of the leaves, many of which look as if pearls were spread over them. Great care ought to be taken in purchasing the Havana leaf tobacco, because it differs so much in quality. Out of one quality i manufacturer will make ten different brands of cigars. The Havana leaf is the only kind of tobacco that moths and bugs will eat These kinds of vermin are very destructive if not kept away. There is a great deal of money to be made by a sklllfri tobacconist in Havana, but he must be experienced and understand the language spoken in Cuba, otherwise he will not profit by cms trade.?mawnapoiu journal. Mrs. Emerson's Hens. An old Concordian, writes a Boston correspondent, has favored me with 3ome of the village impressions of Julian Hawthorne and others of the semi-pagan annex to the Hub "Did pou know Thoreau?" I asked. "I should say I did. We used to go, at his invitation, on hucklebenying excursions with him 'Heneiy.' Some of the town's people didn't like him at all, and thought him a sort of hermit boor, but he was xery kind to children. He loved birds and the woods, and hated to see birds shot or rabbits trapped. He would not have harmed a fly. His rustication out on the shore of Walden UUUU. YYilS a, guuu UCtU Ui o-u. He would have starved if it had not been that his sisters and mother cooked up pies and doughnuts and sent them to him in a basket The trouble with Thoreau was that he tried to lire on intellectual east wind. He died young, but would have lived on for years had bis diet been roast beef and mutton shops. Thoreau was a good deal of a wag in a quiet, humorous way. He once put cloth bandages on the claws of Mrs. Emerson's hens, that good lady having been sorely tried by her fowls invading the family flcwer-patch. I ^uess Mrs. Emerson invented the notion of gloving her hens, and Thoreau carried out her instructions to the let ;er, ana then went on ana naa ma laugh out-1' * me m An examination into cigarette smoking by small boys shows that in a majority of cases parents are to blame. Ihe fact is almighty few people are fit to have children. , - ' Durability of Leather. A correspondent to The British Journal of Photography speaks of leather from a photographic standpoint of view in the following manner: Generally speaking, leather is a perishable substance, especially when it is a question of preservation for thousands of years. Supposing it to be carefully kept in a normal atmosphere, it may be expected to last a little over 700 or 800 years. Leather is injured by damp, by excessive dryness, by sulphurous vapors from burning coal gas and by salts sometimes, present in the ' soiL. Peat sometimes preserves- and sometimes destroys animal remains, according to the salts it holds in suspension. Leather sandals have sometimes beea preserved forages deep in peat bogs. The grave-digger in "Hamlet7* states that corpses vml He eight or nine years in the grave before they rot, and that of a tanner lasts nine years, because his hide is so tanned with his trade. Perhaps the oldestspeciSrBns of leath- j er in the world have been found in Egypt in toxnbsrot inmnmy cases, in which they were inclosed once for all, beyond the reach of disturbance. The oldest piece of Egyptian leather in the British museum is theBremner (Rhoid) scroll containing a portion of the ritual of the dead, its date is about 1800 B. C., and the scroll is now perfectly preserved in a tin case; the leather is so powdery that its custodians are almost afraid to touch it; the color is about that of bright and light new oak soleleather, and perfectly clcan. There are many leather sandals in the museum dating about 1,300 B. C.t generally rotten, torn and distorted?some of them are pretty tough, however. The leather roll of Cheops, regarding the dedication of the temple, may be of the date of about 2,000 B. C., ana is perhaps the oldest piece of leather in the world. The British museum possesses an elaborate Egyptian leather swordbelt of about 500 or 600 B. C.; it is i green and discolored; a casual observer might take it for bronze. Such durability as .leather possesses is unlikely to be found in the majority of gelatine films, which may be a little hardened during the manipulations, but not much, except when treated with alum. In no case is it likely that a gelatine nlm is properly tannea in tne ordinary manipulations, notwithstanding the use of alum. To avoid the tedious process of ordinary tanning, skins have been sometimes treated with alum and salt, more 'especially in Hungary, but an inferior leather was the result. All attempts to shorten the process of tanning have failed; the slow molecular changes must be.allowed to. go on for months, or an inferior leather is the result The quality of the leather id influenced by the "vegetable astringents used in the process; some give soft and spongy, others hard and heavy, leather; slow tanning with oak bark gives about the best result. The Art of Jazgleryv "The art of jugglery has not advanced much within the last twenty-five years," painfully admitted a: superanuated wizard to a reporter. "Indeed,, it has nearly aii been thoroughly ex posed, and. the very minute .methods by which wonderful results were attained appear now as easy as making a coin disappear from the closed fist: .So much for science and civilization." "What will be the result, do you think?" "Some of the results are palpable now. The old sleight-of-hand man has almost passed. away. The wonderful cabinet of spirits, Which at one time astonished the world, it has been proven, was nothing more nor less than a trick in which confederates participated. Heller, Houdin, and the Davenport brothers all were exposed. What is left for the professionals to. do is the question. They can not all turn sword swallowers* or knife -throwers, because that requires a lifetime of practice. Some new departure will have to be taken in which the cabinet does not appear, and the tricks of Houdin and Heller are omitted. This is essentially the age of realism, and therefore the trices in jugglery win nave to iar exceed in cleverness any that we have ever seen produced. When a wizard has a stage of his own he can produce startling effects which...defy superficial investigation. But the time has arrived when superficial investigation is never carried on, but'instead such a searching and profound one is performed that the little apparatuses "dosigned to assist are taken into consideration and removed- The game is effectually blocked. Heller, with his Wonderful memory, could do many strange tricks, and Houdin was considered wonderful by the learned, and supernatural by the ignorant. All they both did is perfectly plain now. Some new method, in my opinion, assisted by science and electricity, will in a few years be discovered to delude and create speculation as the cabinet and many other tricks did for many years. The horse-plav jugglery- of the present doesn't amount to much. The Japanese do astonishing tricks, but there is nothing mysterious about them, since their tricks depend altogether on their personal agility and years of constant practice. All of the tricks and jugglery of the present day must give way. It no longer entertains. The people want something they can see into, so they will not go any more to witness cabinet trick performances. Who will open up the new field remains to be seen. But that the times are xipe for it no one can doubt, and who the wizard will be to cheat the eyes and physical investigation of an intelligent and sceptical public is a matter of conjecture."?N. X. Mail and Express. Marriage in Arizona. "Do you take this woman whose hand you're a squeezin' to be yoar lawful wife, in flush times an' skimp?" "I reckon that's about the size of it, Squire." "Do you t&V? this man youTve j'ined fists with to be your pard through thick an' thin?" "Well, vou're about right, for once, old man. "All right, then. Kiss in court, an' I recon you're married about as tight as the law kin j'ine you. I guess four bits '11 do, Bill, if I don't have to kiss the bride. If I do, it's six bits extra." ?Chicago Ledger. An ingenious contrivance which will effectually protect the soldiers in the Soudan from the rays of the burning sun is being made at the Japanese village in London by order ol the gov- I ernment. It is in the form of an umbrella, made of light bamboo and paper, and will be fastened to the shoulders. The weight will scarcely be felt, and the wearer will thus enjoy all the comforts of a large umbrella without experiencing the inconvenience of holding it up, and bis hands ?rill be left' entirely free to carry his rifle or other articles. ' WIT AN*> ?OMOR. r 11. In the Spring: the busy housewife gets herself another broom. In the Spring the weary husband bounces -ov"~ round from room to room, Bound and round ho vainly wanders, looking " for a vacant spot Where there is no dust-pan shining and the scrubbing brush is notLooking; vainly fcr hfe"brea?xasl, with a very hungry sigh. - ' Till at last he seeks the pantry for a piece of clammy pie; Liongmg lor uie nappy murmuga wucu cue savory odors steal . Upward from the gen'rous kitchen, promising." ' a good square meaL . ,.n ~ ?Boston Budget. "Where are you goia^,/my prettymaid?" "Wefl^bcfcwee&JFOu and me and the town pump I'm . . __ Going to the skatiqs-rlnk, sir," she said; . - ~ " "And what to do there, my pretty snaM?** "Fall down on my bustle, probably, and Wave both heels into the alr.fcir; "fin afraid.** "Then I won't go with."you, my pretty maid." ~ "Well, not this present evening, my lord, Not if I know mysell', sir." she said. ?Somerville Journal. The cxpressioji^riiaak. jny starsr' is ;rarcly heard from the mouth of a w theatrical manager. Vedo netpretend to know why: we simply state tnefact' ? ?Boston Transcript. A; Philadelphia-woman says-she was kissed by. a ghost at & seance. This goes to show^that Philadelphia ghosts are not so particjajar"in,some' respects . s > _ as most people.?SonierviUe Journal Mrs. Lan^try is playing "The-School for Scandal in London. Let us see. . Didn't Mrs- Langtry play something very similar t& that in -the United States? Or was it Freddy?-rGincinnati ?? Enquirer.. Fat man (wlwws in^someihing of an ~ hurry)?"I'll give you $5 to get me to the station in three minutes.'" Cabman (with provoking slowness)? "Well, sorr, you might corrupt me, but you ~X can't bribe that horse."' "Father, dear father, come home with me now," spoke the thinly-clad -... little girl, "fur ii ryou^ian-'t mammy says she'll come to the saloon herself and lead you home by the ear agin."? Kentucky State Journal. * \ Wften Mrs. Pinaphor read that a mill operator in' Philadelphia "had a thousand hands," she looked a little credulous, and then quietly observed that "it must cost him an awful lot of, money for gloveg.,1!?Norriitovm HerSV?W The Nun of Kenmare has founded a I new order whose object It is" to train S girls for service and domestic pursuits. The first lesson of the infant class j should relate to the folly of using kerosene to light ..fires with.?Burlington ! Free Press. --- L In Prussia a servant gui often stays ' with a family as long as forty years. i This can only be accounted for by the fact that the: northern part of the , country is so cold that she is satisfied with one evening out of . each' week.? , Boston JPosL 1 Who has not felt his mouth water as visions of his grandmother's table came before his eyes?the brown bread and beans, the golden pumpkin pies, the big twisted dongimutsj* and the rich ccnfee flavored with real cream gusia (Me.) Journal. A friend of, oura- who bears a good moral character is responsible 'or the , i - "Pi?. "" ?| | ttssertiuu tuiic a xjkju.aiuauurxjlic uuuq -^ had a pair of pantaloons dyed black at the dye works, and was so well pleased with the job, that he took a coat of " . dark material over and wanted it 'dyed white.?Donaldsonville (La.) Chief. , K . In New York, Philadelphia and other < Eastern vcities is a movement for the " v " reduction of prices of admission to amusements. There-is a prospect that the time will eome when the young clerk may take his girl to the theatre i without the sacrifice of a whole week's ; salary.?Cincinnati Commercial Ga~ zette. ! In cleaning up the Elite Theatre recently a fuU set of upper teeth were : swept out into 4he streets It might be interesting to speculate as to what elderly gentleman lost this portion of / his machinery, and what feature of the performance caused his cachinations or aroused his enthusiasms*?Sacramento (Cal.) Union. j Doctor ( who has been sent for at 2 a. m. )?"Madam, pray send, at once for the clergyman, and, if you want to. make your will, for the lawyer.'* Madam" (harried)?"Good gracious! Is it so dansrerous. doctor?" Doctor? - ; "Not a bit of it; but I don't want to be the only fool who has been disturbed ; in his sleep for nothing."?K Y. Sun. In an illustrated story now running in our exchanges there are two pict ures. One represents a young woman asking a man, -"Basil, have you seen the London papers?" The other reprerents the young man lying dead on the ground wilh a newspaper grasped'in his hand. From this we infer that she alluded to the London comic papers.? New York Graphic _ 'gi,A prominent divine who was to officiate at a wedding, finding himself and congregation in the church considerably in advance of the bridal party, assea mat some one snoiuu suruw up a hymn to improve the time. A good brother started pfF, just as the bridal party entered, with the hymn beginning, "Come on, my partner in dis-' tress."?ZiorCs Herald. A 12-year-old boy entered a news stand, threw down 15 cents and said: "Gimme 'The One-Eyed Demon of the Ditches,' 'Crimson-Handed Bill, or The King of the Highwaymen,' .and 'Sal Slumpkins, the Queen of the Shoplifters,' of the Half-Dime Series." A*d yet an English review once; sneeringly asked. "Who reads an American book ?''?Xorrislown Herald. Jinks?"How is. your new paper gett.incr aloncr?" Great Editor?"ISoominff. my dear sir; just booming.'1 Jinks? "You sunrise me. I did not know it * was such a success." Great Editor? "Success? Great Caesar! Why, we've had to drop the Sunday edition, and evening edition, and morning edition in order to give our whole attention to the semi-weekly"?PluLxLddphxa CdXL' . A gentleman went into a "crowded store to buy some stockings for his wife. *4I. want striped ones, ' he said to the -clerk.. "We -have very fewstripes, sir," the clerk, replied; "they are'not much worn now.**' "Are you sure?" "Oh, yes, quite sure. : I will demonstrate the fact to.you:" Then he leaned over the counter and shouted: "Rats?" "See?" he asked. "Yes; give me plain colors." , "Ponl " coo Tonlr M sarcastic girl to whom he had just been presenteS, "I believe you know my fwiend Fitzclaiwence." "Oh, yesr I' met him at Saratoga last summer." "Ah, Miss Paul, I ltz is a chawming fellow, don't you know? Weallysnow, Miss Paul,don't you think he is a moiah delightful fellow"than these Cincinnahtee.men?" "Oh, he's very nice," she answered, "but I think he told me a story." "Xo! Why, Fitz is the verwy son of twooth, Miss Paul. What could tie have said?" "He said you were not nearly as big a fool as you looked.1'? Cincinnati Merchant Traveler, . . *' V*; .?? - . \ .