The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, January 20, 1886, Image 1
???ri <n i --? m ii i _
Mv cottage st un? - njion a rctillf
Where. daisy-s:ii.M?i. >l"P"-.n
And at its foot danefs a huij&inx ril^H
S;njrin;r its to th<- smiir&e^Kgi
Sinjrinjr its vesper hvtnn. :ts iti the wcSH
Ov-r my Icr iiy n<-i >r*s wooded n:::WH
, The royal sun sin"<s siowlv t'> the* v.vst. toWMB
' And the stars throb and throug^j^a
Ovfr mv cottage. in :< tangle ric'i. ^
Koses and je>s/tn!ine and cif-mans
| Cii"'b, filling jealousevery fit:!-* niche.
m;r sweet blossoms to the breeze's kiss;
L And all the day the wild birds, winter-fed.
I. . Warble and trill and jrunjle 'mid the trees.
While the brave skylark, lost in blue o'erhead,
Pours waves of tnusie o'er the sunny leas.
Kf Inside my cottage memory holds her sway
? In pictures, speaking of the loved and lost;
In books, the faithful friends of every dav;
||P In trifles, love apprised at countless cost;
HgiL And, flinjrinjr Time a piy defiance. Son#
Epffft .^lucinurs "The spirit tlays, tbe fire gTOw;
| Yet, since both and aand nay?>6erve<i
I Your eottajre elain)S^fc^*,plarn9r. as of old."
?All the Year Round.
i THE CANDELABRA.
It is surely more blessed to <rive than
to receive. Arthur is decidedly not of
that opinion. I would give you hit. entire
name and the name of his friend,
the general, but you will readily see why j
. I had better omit them. Arthur is high- j
-^Jj^disoonten^t'. Poor Arthur! The g?nerahtnd
the general's wife and Arthur |
are as much one as the fingers of the j
hand. Whoever see.*- one invariably I
|s 1 sees one of the other two almost immediately
after. P>nt. by a singular chance, j
one sees Arthur and the general's wife j
together more frequently than Arthur;
JlgS and the general. It is evident that one
SB must help fortune a little, and then she j
The general's wife is 2$. Such a bcauH|
tiful age! Willi her intimate acquaintances
slie answers to the charming j
name of Genevieve. She had served rive i
years in the great army of married peoBftjSjfB
pie b fore she knew Arthur. She was
mnmnil nt 90. Five and three are cisrht.
Km The last three years may be counted as
|fl| spent in the reserve corps. As her birthgy
day was near :.t hand the general took
S|r his friend Art hur aside and said to him:
HH "My young lriend, if I do not prevent it
you may perpetrate th? sann* folly this
g|s| Tear that you did last year, by reiuemggfl
be ring my wife in a senseless extravagant
manner. That would be highly
HI disagreeable to me. We are on too
H friendly terms for nie to hesitate to speak.
m mv mind plainly to you. are we not?
Last year you gave my wife a magni-i&
cent vase, set with rubies, valued by
glL connoisseurs at 2,500 francs,at the least
That is too much."
"But my means warrant "
B "Something handsome, but not exKBfflF
+ro tto rro n r?r? J
wguuvv. ^7 .
"I assure yon
"As an intimate frieiid of the house
you have a right to remember a birthday
with the usual conventional politeness
by some substantial iiift. I consent
to that willingly. But I do not understand
how it comes that you should repay
tenfold the little dinners and suppers
you have received at our house."
"And the kindness and affectionate
consideration that surround one in your
home! Do they count for nothing?"
? "My dca?i>o}V" that is given freely,
pu wouM not wish to pay us for that?
at, in a word, I do not wish you to
spend more than 300 francs for my
>T JLlAtlV JO (V Jn,cyvnctv^'
"You put mc in a very embarrassing
position.. Nothing respectable can be
for that amount It is a beggarly
Hp" ' never spend more for my sisWm
cer. and w\at is good enough for her
Ip?- will do for my wife."
"Let me go as his:li as 60) francs at
9 ~ least"
"No?"
"Five hundred then?"
"No! No!"
"Four hundred and fifty?"
"Four hundred: that is the utmost; if
your present costs 450 francs I will re^
turn it. If it costs 500 francs. I shall be
py angry. If it costs more than that, it will
bs the last of our friendship."
* ? ?
* *
Genevieve continually discovered new
fallings in her husband. She had long
had a consuming desire to possess a
beautiful little bronze candelabra that
cost 1,800 francs. Indeed, her. husband
carried his authority a little too far.
r What right had he to meddle with her
1 private matters? Did she trouble herself
about the payment of the soldiers
in the brigade? No! Then why did he
not observe a similar discretion in regard
to her affairs? Was she not old
enough to decide what she should receive
and what lvfuse? On this ground
she paid no attention, but dealt with her
friend as if her husband had treated her
wishes in the most congenial spirit.
^ "Do you remember what I said to you
last year wheq you gave me that exquisite
little present? 'Dear Arthur, you
go beyond all- reason." Those were my
very words, were they not? I have been
afraid you would repeat that folly, and
so I have in vietr something more modest,
that you might pivsent to me if you
are bent upon doing something."
S "This thought fulness was entirely unnecessary.
My affection *'
"Your afil'cnon needs no proor or mat
kind.'"
"Genevieve, O Genevieve!"
"Arthur."
"Tell me what you have in view."
? "UVil i>iy friend, after long search,
I found-at last a little candelabrum at
Barbizon's; a candelabrum, mind, and
it is a superb piece. Louis XV. style.
And, just think, it costs only 1,800
francs. You see my husband's interference
was unnecessary. I am reasonable
myself: but, if I do not mistake, the
general went still further. He fixed the
limit for you, did he not?"
"Yes, 400 francs."
"That is certainly modest, but?more
than enough."
Arthur declared he would revolt
against the general's order, but she
ft I would not hear to it. However, he held
rto his resolution in spite o? iier opposition.
Finally thev came to an agreement.
It was settled that he shonld send
the candelabrum to his dear Genevieve,
but should assert and maintain to the
general that it did not cost over 400
When Arthur made his call of congratulation
on the birthday of the general's
wife he was angrily received by the
general.
"You seem to have forgotten our recent
conversation entii-A^1'
"Why. what is the ?Rer. general?"
"Ah! And this candelabrum."
'.'Well, what of it? Perhaps you don't
r - believe?This candelabrum did not cost
A HO ffonAC "
** CVU V? Ci 1VV nuavo.
"Nonsense."
"It is as I tell you. It cost me trouble
enough, though.to Unci them: I swore at
you not a
"Impossible: where did you rake up
such a fabulously cheap thing?"
"At?but it is of no importance."
"It i&a pure curiosity?where?''
"At TJarbizon-'s."
"And. yet people say that Barbizon is
the dearest bronze-dealer in Paris. Four
/ / .
w*m^:
Hmeth:n<r^H ?fc?!
HoHHViiLr annivcrs5^H^k\
^^ote on the
*
Baron."
. jflRtleman is coming to you whr?
| order one like It. Vou must
I him thnt you have no more in the
store.1'
"Impossible, sir: we have three for
sale."
"How unfortunate! But listen. I
have r. request. You must rentier me
a little service. A singular circum
stance, which I have no time to txplair,
compelled me to (let-litre to th )>vrsou
that the candelabrum bought i.* re et>sl
only 400 francs."
"Arid he believed it?"
"Strong reasons?you hear?verj
strong reasons force me to conceal th
truth. If he wishes a similar candelabrum
do not charge him more thai
20 loais d'or: I will pay the difference.'
"That is satisfactory."
* * *
* *
Ten minutes later a gentleman en
tlifi store anil wished to buv oil'
of the three candelabra. Faithful to hi?
agreement. Barbizon asked only 40C
francs. The purchaser looked very
much astonished. "Four hundred francs!
Please send me two." Barbizon trembled
at this unexpected double order,
but he remembered Arthur s anxiety,
and wrote down the order in his book.
Fifteen minutes later the general entered
the shop with his sister. "Out'ol
my friends bought a candelabrum of
you yesterday. I sec voh have moiv ot
the same kind. My friend told me he
paid 400 francs for it. Is that right?"
"Saperlot!" thought the dealer. "I
have got myself into a nice lix. The
purchaser who was just here was not the
baron's-man. So much the worse for
him. How could I know?"
"Yes. sir," turning to the general after
his brief monologue "It is right.
The candelabrum costs 400 francs."
Wonderful! Very wonderful! Will
you have the goodness to send one ol
them to-*my sister? She will give you
her address.
"" "Yes,"1 said the lady, much pleased,
"and 1 will take the other two with me
into the country."
"The other two, madams? They are
sold," replied the Barbizon.
"There is no hurry. I have time. II
you can have them in five months it
will* do. By that time you can get some
more." .
"We wish to present them to our
friends, Herr Barbizon," added the general.
"The French industry must be
encouraged. You can safely order five
or six. I pledge myself to take them."
"But?at that rate the order stands
seven candelabra for the Herr General
and two for madame. Have I understood
you correctly?'' _ _
"To make an>even amount I will say
ten: that makes only 4.000 francs!*'
* * *
* *
Poor Arthur! During the following
week he went back ana forth between
the general's hotel and Barbizon's shop
oftcner than ever. The orders fairly
poure-i down. The story cost him not
less than 35,000 francs.
T ?* i u
JL UO iiul K.HUW wuuuia wiiuvicvx; a infection
was really worth so much to hira
or not.?Translated from the German by
Margaret G. Polk.
Mark Twain's Difficulties in Becoming
a Confederates
In his paper in the December Century,
"The Private History of a Campaign
that Failed," Mark Twain says:
"Out West there was a good deal of
confusion in men's minds during the
r\f ]-?/* rrrr>ot *1 CTrtAfl
iiidt UIVUUIO Ui t i*v- V.44.L, IV ^
deal of unsettledness, of leaning first
this way, then that, then the other way.
It was hard for us to get our bearings.
I call to mind an instance of this. I was
piloting on the Mississippi when the
news came that South Carolina had
gone out of the Union on the 20th of
December, 1-S60. My pilbt-mate was a
New Yorker. He was strong for the
Union: was I. But lie would not listen
to me with any patience; my loyalty
was smhehed, to Kis eve, because mv
i?3 T ;?
iUiiitT iiuu unuvu ouuw. x o?.*iv4, it*
palliation of this dark fact, that I had
heard my father say, some years before
he died, that slavery was a great wrong,
and that he would free the solitary negro
he then owned if he could think it right
to give away the property of the family
when he was so straightened in means.
My mate retorted that a mere impulse
Y> cic> uucuiug?any uuujr wuivi ulvjivi iv
a good impulse; and went on decrying
my Unionism and libeling my ancestry.
A month later the secession atmosphere
had considerably thickened on the
Lower Mississippi, and I became a rebel;
so did he. We were together in New
Orleans, the 26th of January, when Louisiana
went out of the Union. He did his
full share of the rebel shouting, but was
bitterly opposed to letting me do mineHe
said that I came of bad stock?of
a father who had been willing to set
slaves free. In the following summer
he "was piloting a Federal gun-boat and
shouting for the Union again, and I was
in the Confederate array. I held his
note for some borrowed money. He was
one of the most upright men I ever
knew; but he repudiated that note without
hesitation, because I was a rebel,
and the son of a man who owned
slaves.',,
Modern surgery has achieved a great
triumph in Germany. Eleven years ago
Professor Nussbaum. of Munich, took
/vf rt Vvat* crv o7on/1 /?rit\_
CiliUgU Ul <b WJ c*/ iinuiMiiiivvi auu vii|rpled
that he was obliged to crawl about
on all fours. Nine serious operations
were performed, four crooked bones
were broken, three stiff joints forcibly
extended, several sinews cut through
and nerves stretched. Weights were
then attached^ .certain mus.-Ies. and
by means*ofmassage baths, ointments
and electricity so much-progress was
made that in a. .few years the boy was
able-.-t<xVwalk erect with; the kid of
eratchfi.vdJKl a specafrrrpparalus fastened
to/: his feet. Safcs^uentiy .'he was
aole:to threw -i way this apparatus and
exiefis^ge^iiis crutches for a -cane, and
tdMJ&yhe is a healthy, vigorous youth,
; able tifwiOk, dance and ride on horseback.
"
The SjaJi -oif Persia appears to be a
great and severe art critic. Hie story
circulates in-French papers that one day
nes." This head did not seetu .sofficiently
realistic to him. so he summoned the
artist and in his presence took his sword
and chopped off a slave's head, which
he then bade the artist examine so that
he might be better informed in future.
\ I
v FALSI-; s>:: A'ILS. i
1 Thc\^ri;)is m of ?!? It ? of "Slauu- )
<.f Tin- .? i:r.i :i.i :n (inns.
|v The ^Mrkrcosv of the pearl-blower,
K Says S::r.:',v j,:s -ft hiss-Ma ki:i? in
. j All A^i-s. V, .< i?s..(.(i. ix most simpk\
It is comp'js. >1 ,;f small table :inom a
^ vanl in ..;1 ujrc'i is placed a
\inip with :: wick. This Ian.]),
fed either wiili <riVes a long
, jot <">f flam:: l.'SdWii \,y :l of bellows
un<!??r the lalii'*. w;i!?.-5i put in motion
with the foot.
g|b-lny''''- table are plaivd tubes of holmon
glass. , -rr*c- .^manufacture
of ; (>:::;;g?Tiiothers. of
a slightly iridi'scent tint approaching
opal, are only employed for the finer
nenvls. <lf>>if-n:ited in commerce Oriental
1 r
pearls.
The secret of the composition of this
latter jrlass. due to the researches of M.
Pierrelot, a chemist who died a few
vears ago, now belongs to the firm of
Valez & Co.
BLOWING PEARLS.
The first material belli? known, let us
now seek to understand by what means
from a tube of hollow <rl::ss, in every
respect like those which children use as
pea-shooters, the makers succeed, without
usinjr any mold, in making pearls of
ail sorts, from the most common to
those which in shape and opalescence
imitate perfectly the most splendid
pearls of tin.* Hast. (The only exception
to this ! < f'u- the pearls called
fluted, whlrii nm-t b.* done in a mold.
As thi'v an? now ou'. of fashion, we shall
say nothing more about their manufacture,
which belongs more to the subject
of blown and molded glasses.)
Tiie blower seated a; liis tabic has his
lamp before him. and at his right hand
arc placed t of about one-third of
an ineh in diameter and one foot in
length. The thickness of tlic tube to be
employed 1 n-Inir necc.-sarily in proportion
to the- >!/. of tin- pearls to be made,
the first labor of the blown- is to draw
out the tube ?that is to say, to increase
its length by diminishing its thickness.
When til-* tube is made of the size desired
lie break- it in fragments of from
four to six inches: ait rward lie takes
one of these ami brings one end of it
to the lamp. As soon as the glass begins
to unit he blows gently through
the tube, which, aIs.hough drawn out,
has always preserved its internal bore,
and. the air soon dilating the heated extremity,
a ball appears. It is this ball
lltrit- is to become a near!, but it is still
only in a rudimentary slate. Three
operations arc necessary to make it a
pearl:
First, the piercing of two holes for
round pearls intended to form a necklace,
or of a single one if they are round
or pearl-shaped, to be set cither for
necklaces or earrings, or for buttons or
pins. etc.
Second, to give the form, round or
pear-shaped.
Third, the interior coloring.
The double piercing, indispensable
for the coru to pass through which unites
the pearls and forms a necklace, is done
at the moment when the spherical glass
adhering to the tube is still ductile.
The lirst hole is made in the lower part
of the pe.irl by tfc*fc.reath "only?of the
workman, and the second is naturally
formed by the opening to the tube when
i ue pearl is separated from it by means
r\ f o liorVif hlntl'
* ?"" "
ORIENTAL I'EAKLS.
This work is required in the preparation
of all beads; but, before passing
on. we would call the attention of the
reader, and especially of ladies, to one
kind?we mean Oriental pearls, which,
as their name indicates, must be the
most exact imitation possible of those
produced by Nature.
Although made in exactly the same
manner as the m >st ordinary beads,
these pearls are yet distinguished from
them, not only by the employment of
opalescent gia*--, but still more by the
care the blower takes in their formation,
a< well as by the different coloring they
receive in the in""rlor.
As for the shape, every one knows how
rare it is to find a pearl without defect,
and defects not in material but in form,
anrl still more in color. A single example
will suffice to show how difficult it is
to lincl many pearls almost alike in
form and tint. The pearl necklace bef,.
+1,,. ,lv_V,ii:iw.?c rvf tli?> Froneh
-
is composed of only thirty-three pearls,
and. in order to complete this limited
number, it is scarcely possible to l;-:lieve
that, after having chosen from among
all the most perfect ones French merchants
eo::!d o:i' r. it was -eessary to
have recotns.' to those of England.
The work of tlx* blower bei:i?r, as we
have said, to imitate nature as much as
possible, his talent consists not only in
destroying the exact regularity obtained
by the blowing, but also in producing
on the false jx-arl the defects usually
found in natural ones. This work requires
much practice, and is only the
fruit of Ion;: observation. The good
blovwr. the artist, should be sufficiently
acquainted with natural pearls to execute
on his own only the defects which
mav increase the value of his work by
SKiiiiuiiv prcparcu reuecuo:i>. jlu %jutain
this important result, the blower,
profiting by tin: moment when the pearl
still adhens to the tube, takes a very"!
small iron paler, with which he stinkes*
lightly certain parts of the small malleable
pearl, and it is only by this last
operation, which places here a protuberance,
there a flattening, both almost
imperceptible, that he succeeds in producing
a pear! which, losing its mathematical
regularity, becomes the perfect
imitation of nature.
There the work of the blower ceases;
for it is then that the pearls?which, it
should be remarked, arc still only objects
in colorless glass?are to pass into
the hands of workwomen charged to
color each of them. But, before dismissing
the blower, we must be allowed
to go a little into statistics. The reader,
lir.it-t.iw itnni 1 r>nt t?" >! nrmPfi ! Wfi shall
hi' very brief. We merely wish to say
that :i good workman can make 300
pearls in a 7l;iv. and i-; paid from 2s to
2s Gd thuhtuvircd.
COLORING OF IWI.SK PEARLS.
Although 1 *i< work of coloring of
which we are about to speak is the same
for all pearls, ii will be easily understood
that, si net' pearls are divided into
ordinary and Oriented pearls, it is necessary
to have t'.vo sets of workpeople.
This labor is generally intrusted to women?some
.-p'-cialiy employed in coloring
tiie common, and others the finer,
pearls.
We shall only occupy ourselves with
! the work of the latter, which, we re!
peat, merely differs from that of the i
! other from its greater finish.
Each workwoman has before her a
; series of small ct mpartments, eontaini
ing altogether several thousand pearls,
i arranged so that each of them should
present the side having the orifice
i pierced !>_? the blower.
Before introducing the coloring substance.
which would be too easily de
tached from the glass if it were not by
some means more firmly fixed, every
i pearl has to receive inside a very light
coating of a glue which is perfectly
colorless. being made from parchment.
This layer being equally ^preadrayc^thc
interior of every -pearl; ^votiivrom)di.
takes advantage jof"the moitrent-Trben"
th.. dnnm Saffd'besots ta3 j
work of coloring, .proj^eiiy so^SccLAfter
huvin^Takcn- Tjp "the thin an.4
hollow tube, and soaking it in the bleak
paste, the workwoman introduces a
certain quantity into each of the pearls
by her breath; and would you know
how many she must do in a day to enable
her "to earn the modest sum of
' with th<? naste is onlv Daid at the rate Oi,
? - - ? A
about one penny.
Colored beads are done in exactly the
same way: but, instead of the bleak
paste, a paste of the color desired is
blown into them.
Piute Religion.
The Piute Indians have pretty good
religious notions of their own. They
believe in a heaven arid in a hell that
would satisfy even the most orthodox
and exacting Methodist preacher. The
ruler in heaven is "Psh-Ah," and the
Dresidintr erenius in the other place is
called Avea^Dagii. In the Piute" heaven
the water is pure and sweet, game is
abundant, and there are plenty of pinenuts.
The hell is a burning alkali
desert, walled in by rocky hills. Those
condemned to suffer punishment in this
place are continually tortured with
thirst, but the only water they can find
is saturated with salt and alkali. When
they approach the bordering hills in
their efforts to escape they are -driven
back by devils, .who rush out from
among the rocks and thrust fire-brands
against their naked bodies. They have
among them, writes a Cincinnati Entnrirrr
oorrosnnndenfL nrpa/rhors of thfiir
own, who from time to time make
"good talks." Not long since their old
preacher died. He was a man who had
much to say against killing, lying, and
stealing. "Pokc-r Jim" is a son of this
old preacher. Like most preachers'
sons. Poker Jim is a "little wild;" still,
the Piutes have great hopes of him, and
most of them think that he will some
day fill the place of his father as an cxhorter
of the people to better ways.
"Johnson," a-Piute in some way related
to the family of the old preacher, speaking
of "Jim the other aay, said: "We
ihink lie bejtfn to make ?;ood preach
yoco ticmpo. nim now good deal in the
Tuition. Ali*p:idv he sometimes give
people some talk. Him not yet say much
'bout for not to lie and steal, bat him
make pooty good talk for not drink
whisky. Our people think poco ticmpo
him make some good -talk for not lie
and steal, all same like ole father, and
some good talk 'bout heaven? too; but
you see him no can do it now." "Why
not give talk now?" I asked. "Well,"
looking a little ashamed, "now him
play all the time too much poker. We
think poco ticmpo quit poker and give
plenty good preach, all same like was
he dead father."
A Good Illnstr&tioii.
A Marietta, Ga., correspondent write?-?
to the Atlanta Constitution the following:
Cobb superior court met here last
T.-sJ T 1
JJAUUUZ*V t t^UUKC UUWUjWMMMWiy vt iwrmr^
presiding. Judge Brown was disqualified
from presiding. Judge Branham
has won many golden opinions from
our people by the impartial charges to
the juries and his just but lenient sentences.
The charge of Judge Branham to the
grand jury was strikingly forcible, and
particularly so in expounding the duties
of working the public roads. In regard
to breaking up the practice of carrying
concealed weapons, he gave an illustration
that came under nis observation
while a practicing attorney in Rome.
He had a clerk in his office who was in
the habit of carrying a derringer pistol
in each of his Vest pockets. This he
tried to persuade him not to do, but he
was persistent in his purpose, A client
J _ 1- i.L?
IlKiUC U rtJIIililK. IV U1U U1C1T&. iXlUCL 11U
(IJj-anham) had lost his case that he
made no effort to do his duty in the
matter. On accosting the client about
it he denied making the statement. The
clerk and the client and Judge Branham
all met in the law office, when the
clerk wanted to know of the client if he
denied making the aforesaid remark.
The client emphatically denied it, when
the clerk, who was seat :<* at the table
writing, looked up and sijnply remarked:
4,iou have lied, that's all." The
client, who was a large, muscular fellow,
picked up the tongs and was intending
to brain the clerk, when the
aforesaid clerk placed his fingers in his
vest pocket and pulled out a derringer,
and. without ffettingr up from his seat.
rested his hand on' the table and exclaimed:
"You put down those tongs!"
The man very prudently put down the
tongs. When he had left the clerk said
to Judge Branham: "You have always
insisted that I should not cany a pistol,
as I would have no need of it Now,
suppose that I had not had that weapon
that fellow would have killed me with
those tonjfs." "Not at all probable,"
replied Judge Branham. "Why?" interrogated
the surprised clerk. "Because,"
replied Judge Branham, "If
you had been without a pistol you would
not have called the fellow a liar." This
was a revelation to the clerk, and he
abandoned the practice of carrying concealed
weapons.
A Born Drummer.
"Do you think you are fitted to become
acanvasser, Walter?"
"I do."
"Well, suppose you were calling on a
customer, should you consider it a hint
to leave ll tie oraerca you to clear out 01
the room?"
"I should consider that an invitation
to remain."
"Suppose he kicked you down-stairs?"
"I should regard that as a pleasant
introduction."
"What should you regard as a hint to
leave?"
"I will tell you from my own experience.
Last "winter, wishing to study
Greek, and having no money, I cast to
remain at the Presbyterian hospital 3S
an invalid. As ill-luck would have it I
grew so fat in a fortnight that, groan as
loud as I would, they told ^ to leave.
T 1 _1 : xl. _ .1 A ^ L* tL
jl oniy cmng ine closer 10 my uerui.
The good doctors then kicked me out of
the door, but I climbed back though the
window. At length they told me that
all the beds were taken, and that I must
sleep in the dissecting-room. I slept
like a top for a week. But one day a
drunken student came into the room
brandishing a huge knife, and cried
out: "Where's that new subject?" I
lay still till he had thrust his knife two
or three inches into my side. Then,
fearing that all my members would secede
unless I did something desperate, I
cried out 'I take the hint,' and skipped."
The people of Ceylon use honey instead
of salt for preserving meat A
traveler says meat so preserved is of exquisite
flavor. It is kept in earthen
pots and remains gooa for several
years. |
THE PLUMED FyiGHT*
? Hastily Scribbled
Ingersoll'g Noted Speech Atination.
AfterX^uc^Pr^i^
correspondA
Cjg fflthe making of
T r) i rmVI m
to thr.t-^fflSSS?S||^Boi Peoria, 111.
He wr>jHHEB8BHBWpn ?f l876>
to the cSHBHH^raR Hc arrired
;*ndJ1 er Illinois
in Cm<?mg|HB^^E^^Kre the eondele^ai|^BHH^H|
was full of
ventio^MH|^K?nHH^'ing a high
oid^mKBBaBm'aCi meet"
ings evSTffiS^^^^^mythino: in
their poorer to "boon^^B^^nt'I(':lte*
It wasonally decided to have TRT^w^rf=v
nating speech made by some Illinois
man, and the Illinois delegation settled
upon I^gersoll.
Therv was present in the city Bob's
favorit brother, who died a few years
later, iLid at whose grave the great
atheistff.'?!ivered his world-renowned
oration? ife immediately told his brother
of the, selection, and that he had promised
"to? deliver the speech. The
brother, Who was somewhat nervous,
tried to persuade him not to try it.
"You are not famous enough," he
persuaded. "You arc getting alon? and
making; a fair reputation, but this is too
big a tiling for you. I fear you will
make a dead failure of it"
But Bob had promised and would not
back oat
"Well,," if you are determined to do
this, y^i must do your best. You must
make a success." To do this you must
get a? it immediately. Don't wait a
miniz(f. Go into that room and lock the
door; jad begin the speech."
"Oh^ -to-morrow will do," urged Bob,
"and, besides, I have promised to go
with t5e boys to-night"
And away he went
The next day passed, and, although
his brother spoke about the speech
several times, Robert did not touch it.
And so the time passed till the night before
the convention. The brother, meanwhile,
had got nearly frantic. Robert
came in late that night, and in answer
to his_brotlier's solicitation, said:
"Oh, bother; let's get a good night's
sleep.''
And so they retired. Ingersoll says
that he never slept so soundly in his life
as he did that night. Finally he woke
up suddenly and felt perfectly "refreshed.
He got up hastily and looked at his
watch, it was 3 o'clock a. m. He went
to the adjoining room very quietly
and clpsc<! the door, so as not to disturb
his brother. He turned the light down,
and, closing his eves, imagined the
* ? i -fi j L:. J:
great convention nan, anu nis auuiuucc
before him. Then he began to think of
Blaine. Finally he began to say his
speech over to himself. When he had
finished he took up pen and paper and
wrote it out carefully as he had said it.
He laid it away in"the drawer of the
bureau, and went back quietly to bed.
It was now past 6 o'clock in the morning.
He very soon was fast asleep
agair> and did not wake up till past 8,
"^^^L^^brol^rwas^stand i ng over -k-hfi; - -"Bob,
get up, get up! It's""8:30, and
theC convention assembles at 10:30. I
thought you were to get up early and
get your speech ready. It will be a dead
failure, and we shall all be disgraced.
Blaine will not bo nominated. It is too
bad, too bad.'"
Bob slowly waked up, and, rubbing
nis eyes, urgea mat lcwoum oe oesi iibi
to get their breakfast. But the brother
insisted that he should not leave the
room until he had got down to business
on the speech. By this time Bob had
donned nis pantaloons and remarked:
"Well, you be the audience and sit
over there, and I will see what I can
do."
He then started in and delivered the
famous speech, word for word, as it was
given that day in the convention, beginning:
' Massachusetts is proud of Benjamin
H. Bristow; so am I, etc.
He went on easily and rapidiy until he
reached the following:
"This is a orand vear?a vear filled
with the recollections of the Revolution;
filled m ith proud and tender memories of
the past; with the sacred legends of
liberty; a year in which the sons of free dom
will" drink from the fountains of
enthusiasm; a year in which the people
call for a man* who has preserved in
congress whitf our soldier* won upon
the field."
"But the real climax of the speech was
the following:
"Like an armed warrior, like a plumed
knight. James G. Blaine marched
down the halls of the American congress
and threw his ,-hining lance full and
fair against the brazen forehead.-, jf the
defaraers of his country und the maligners
of his honor."
It is perhaps needless to say that the
brother was completely captured. When
Bob had finished he rushed to him, and,
putting both arms around him. embraced
him in the most enthusiastic
way.
"It is simply ".Mime!" ho cricd; "but
when did you prepare it?"
"Oh, I scratched it oil' last night when
you were asleep. Go to the drawer there
and you will find the manuscript. While
I dress please read it over and see if I
delivered it correctly.1'
The great point with Ingersoll, my
friend continued, is that he is always
self-possessed. He never gets rattled.
Some of the greatest orators in this
country have trembled before so great
an occasion as this. Bob Ingersoll
never said anything that ^ave him so
much reputation as that hit about the
"plumen knight." It has been quoted
ever since, both by Blaine's friends and
enemies. The convention went wild
over it But it could not make Blaine
president.
A New Loom.
The Hunt loom, now in operation in
San Francisco, if all that i3 said of it
is true, is a most important contribution
to labor-saving machinery. As described
by a-correspondent of the Baltimore
Sun, the loom is noiseless, has ro_ shuttle,
and weaves, material four yards
wide, of any kind of goods, with the
same hands and steam power now required
to make one yard. The labor is
so lightened that it is better adapted to
women than to men, and women are
enabled to weave more ana produce Getter
work than men, with the great advantage
that the most delicate constitutions
need not be impaired. Cloth
woven three yards wide is made so that
it can be cut apart after beinjg woven,
making three separate ana distinct
pieces of cloth for market The quality
of cloth is said to be superior and easy
to recognize. The loom is now in practical
operation and does all it promises,
but "has every now and then little
breakages, so far easily repaired. Experts
and business men are divided in
sentiment. All agree that it must be
all right, but it may take more time than
calculated to assure against the breaking
r\f email but afiip.ritjal narta."
GKESF.
Interest!:!.:; |?u!:Us of s;n {iiN-re-il Inj; Hird ?
Their I'tilityasu J::;:v.!i:cier.
One of the unchallenged declarations
of the gospel of onr Xew England folklore,
as applied to the changes of the
seasons, says the Hartford Timet, is the
saying that when several ilocks of wild
geese arc seen heading southward in
the late fall it is a sure sign of speedily
corning cold weather. and it is apt to "be
so. It was the belief of our forefathers,
as it is of thou* descendants, that the
spring and autumn migrations of -these
great birds unerringly heralded the real
change of the seasons?the former proclaiming
the approach of spring-weather
and the latter the coming down of th?
^rthem winter. The Canada goose is
"crecTited witlWmK^acter of a weather
prophet, a part which .iT rrm^.be admitted,
he sustains more creditably tTiah"
some of the weather prophets among
those other geese who, without wings or
its intelligent forewarning instinct, continue
to put forth their meteorological
predictions for e:ioh coming year. For
the flocks of wild gce.se. in their last
and heaviest southward migration, do
undoubtedly foretell the rapid coming of
wintry weather. True, they begin that
long southward journey, many of them,
in scattered, earlier Hocks that are seen
at intervals in some years all through the
month of October, but the later and larger
companies generally come sweeping
down from the far north through the
cold and leaden skies of late November.
Wilson, the ornithologist, says of this
bird: "Their first arrived on the coast of
New Jersey is early in October; and
their first numerous appearance is the
sure prognostic of severe weather.''
How far do they go in seeking a nesting-place
by the shores of the northern
seas? And* how long or how far, in
their return southward. flo tlicv !iy m a
single day? Ornithologists toll us that
the wild goose (Anscr Canadensis), as
the rule, "breeds in the most northern
portion of the continent." passing the
season of incubation beyond the boundaries
of the United States, and generally
along the cold shores of northern Labrador,
of Hudson's bay. of southwestern
Greenland, and tin; shores of both sides ,
of Baffin's bry. almost on the edge of !
the unending lee and snow. Instances
of its breding on the New* England .
coasts (it is said, at Martha's Vineyard)
have been reported; but such statements *
seem to need confirmation. Wild geese i
have a wider range. Their habit is to !
breed in the far north, though -some of ,
them do not go further south, oil their <
return, than the bays and sounds of the
North Carolina coasts. How far they
fly without resting may be a less easy ,
CJuraUUil LU ttilavvci. -LUC puVJl* i-'iwuu, ,
who was a good observer, savs:
All day thy winjrs have f::nn'<l
At that fur height, the cuid, thin atmosphere, '
Yot stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, 1
Though the dark night is near? ,
which would imply that they fly. day ]
and night, till they reach their resting- .
place in the 'summer home" they seek, ]
and where (the poet continues, addressing
the goose) "reeds shall bend, soon,
o'er thy sheitej^BB^-v^I'liis is_nvoba fc^,*w,eu
1 rhrg tin; wild go3Si^^/^C
great powers of lligiif. lie
does, pans.' at tini^s for rest, foot^^^fc
recreation, in some open water, dis^J
cerned, from his "Jar height," beneath
him in the land over which he directs
his flight: and the best testimony seems
tn V>o that liio'lif nftvni' eo'ntiimrd.
unless is happens to ho under the procure
of very rare circumstances, beyond
'21 hours :it a time, and generally not
much beyond 12. It is true wild geese
often do fly in the night: hut there is
reason to believe that when they do they
rest in some river or bay for a few hours
during the day. They seem to know,
even in the darkest night when they
arc over a river. This was shown once
in a wild November night of storm and
sleet, when a lio.-k of these great birds, \
finding1 their wings laden with the icj J
that froze upon them, descended with (
great clamor into the Park river in
Hartford, just north of the Ford stree' !
bridge, where iiiuiilst tiie missiles of the 1
ottaches of the old ja'.l (which stood
near the bank) and of other assailants
they contrived, with great din o: screaming
and floundering and diving to clear
their wings of icv. and rise again into
the night, and go sailing 011 toward
brighter skies.
Their rate of speed varies somewhat
under different eironmst;>ncca, and ,
seems not to be very nc -nratoly known. .
But. though their lliizhl is heavy and i
laborious, it is generally swit'r. Watch- ,
ing a flock of forty or iif!y o? Ihrse large <
waterfowl as they went living over this
city Sunday morning on their journey
toward the "land of cotton," their mo ]
tion, as well a^ tir.'ir wild goblin cries, i
swv?i1s1 1-v^ il T!w? llrwlr
tvillll Il.i.UIV XI. JL4I.. iivv.w J
which was not formed in the customary ]
triangle, but in a great irregular etinv. ^
was still led by the old gander, anil his
deeper note could occasionally i?:> ii- ard
amidst the din of the wild, reedy vole; s ]
of his gabbling flock. He in ay liave (
been cautioning ihem to keep well to- \
gether, and promising a go< :d time j
ahead if they all k: pt bravely to the
work?and the ladies of the eon many. <
as is apt to be the case, were all talking \
at once, anil eagerly giving all sorts of ]
goosy assurances. Hut the .interesting .
thing to note was the speed of the llock. |
They swept on through the scowling }
sky at a tremendous rate; much faster, i
apparently, than that of the fastest rail- 3
road train. In making such an estimate <
allowance must be made for the absence ,
in the sky of all standards of compari- ,
son, like those which, in- the shape of .
hills or cities, or other tem-stial objects, ]
afford in the case of the express train ^
sore? means of realizing its rate of ]
speed. And these loquacious geese ]
swept on like the wind?their long necks 3
stretched out straight ahead, and their
gurgling, reedy cries sounding almost
continuous.
Those cries, perhaps, only three days
before, had blended with the tierce .
trumpet blasts of the shrill northwester 1
as it swept far and wide over the now '
frozen wastes along the shores of Hudson's
straits?or even, it may be, of the J
lower part of Baffin's bay: for there '
seems to he no reason to doubt that 1
these large, strong birds, in their long 1
migratory journey, ileeing from the win- j
try wrath to come, do really accomplish
five hundred to six hundred miles a day. !
Looking at the great continental flight
of the wild goose, one is tempted to ap- '
ply to him some such hyperbole as that ,
which the enthusiastic Frenchman, .
Michelet, applied to the frigate-bird: !
"He sups in Senegal and breakfasts in '
North America." In a similar spirit it
might be said of the wild geese?they ]
take breakfast one day on the shores of *
Labrador, the next on Long Island 1
sound.
They tly from the realm of cold and ,
<l.n-l-nn? Ant nf tlio Klfvilr wnrld fit on
coming winter, with its ice, its chill
shadow, its piercing blasts, and the j
reign of nature's death, they speed on
and away, flying f:ist<-r than the wind. 1
and heading over to the land of light
and life, where the sun broods bright i
and warm all day on the still lakes and ]
lagoons of Florida, or the gulf shores of
western Louisiana or Texas. What an *
instinct is that that driv^B
i'1-ringly on!?and hows
it' we, loo, could travt^B
ncnt-swocping wild gojgj
the northern winter fafl
almost in a day. to thd^
sunshine and warm'JB
Mountain?
Not long sincc JjH
dashing trout-str^B
up the mountain. ML
Nature seemed^B
to protect the
the dark deep fl
higher I climbfB
more fish I fou?|
succession of
three feet or iji
in its track fl
mountain.?.*?
^ ~ iS
I LIU 11MI
Tn the viilm
the
on the same strcamTll^^^SPq
that the fishes' ascent was a puzz^^H
him. until one day his boy tailed him
out to the dam, where the riddle was
solved. The dam was nearly four feet
high, and to relieve the stream, .several
auger-holes had been bored in it, allowing
a small stream of water to jet forci
bly out and go splashing down into the
clear pool below. As my friend approached
the spot, and looked through
the bushes, several large-sized trout were
moving about under the mimic fall,
evidently in great excitement, and darting
into* it as if enjoying the splash and
roar of the water.
Suddenly, one of the fish made a quick
rush that sent it up the falling stream.
>u unu u uiinusL gamuu iuu u>p; uui uy
an unlucky turn it was caught and
thrown back into the pool, where it
darted away, evidently much startled.
Soon another made the attempt, darting
at it like the first, and then rapidly
swimming up the fall, but only to meet
the fate of its predecessor. This was
tried a number of times, until finally, a
trout larger than the others made a
dash, mounted the stream, and entered
the round hole. The observers were almost
ready to clap their hands, but it
was not successful yet As the water
stopped flowing for a moment, they saw
that though the athletic trout hacl surmounted
the fall, the hole was too small
for it to pass tlirough, and there the
poor fish was lodged. The lockers-on
hastened to relieve it, and found that
its side or pectoral fins were caught in
the wood, but by pushing the fish ahead,
which you may be sure they did, they
liberated it, and it darted away into the
upper pond.
Here, then, was the explanation. The
trout climbed the mountain by swimming
up the falls, darting up the foaming
masses, and adopting even* expedient
to accomplish their journey. For
these fish deposit their eggs high up
stream, so that the young fry, when
hatched, may not be disturbed by pred- j
ntory fish and other foes living in the
lower waters.?C. F. Holder, in St.
Man for 3faster.
A ?c*>d story is told about town at this :
side of a fashionable door
Paris, Berlin, or the eity'trom whence '
they came, are here lionized to a degree .
that makes their heads swuii. They are j
naturally delighted with America, and
float alonjr on the surface of the fashion- ,
able current of Washington as big as
Newtown pippins. Some of these fellows
actually-live on their invitations to
rlirmnv rttilv nivinnr -fnv t1w> lvrnnlrfnst: ;lt '
some cafe. Well, tlie story goes that ]
one of them was asked to dinner by a
family, the heads of which were total
strangers to him. He knew that invita- J
tions had been extended to others of his !
set, v.iio had declined, so he was quite !
certain it was not his person that was 1
wanted. -Meeting another young fellow !
the latter suggested that an experiment
be tried. <
' Give it to your valet," said his merry i
friend. 'Til wager they will never dis- :
cover the difference; he's such a bloody <
Englishman. They don't know you. j
All they want is somebody there, you 1
know. By Jove! what a lark!" 1
'Til do it," said the other. And he <
lid. Instructing his valet, who is fully <
as polite and genteel looking as his 1
master, the latter posted off to the resi- 1
ilenee at the proper hour in the legation <
carriage.
Whit trrin<snir/>d thoriv mnv hf> imrto
ineil, from the fact that among the din- <
ner guests given in the society papers (
svas the name of the young secretary, <
;ind from the account of the affair which ,
I::t3 leaked out through other servants ,
to whom the valet confided the story, it (
svould seem from the latter that the .
ralct got along very well until the wine
began coming around to him too fre- '
juentlv. He know all about his mas- ]
'crs affairs, and discoursed on diplo- \
matic matters with exceeding volubility. <
,\s lie got mellow, however, his dignity ]
javc way, and his 'gossip became, that ,
interesting stuff retailed by servants below
stairs. To anybody who had been
Accustomed to move in diplomatic socie- '
[y, his talk would have betrayed the ^
real state of the ease: but the parvenues '
ivlio were entertaining him were igno- {
rant, and accepted his vulgarity as the '
:ceentricity of foreigners. They piled
ivery courtesy upon the valet until he '
jould no longer bear them, but was fin- !
xllv interrupted in the act of making ;
iovc to one of the ladies of the house, |
put into his carriage quietly, and sent ,
iiome. To the credit of the family, it
may be added that the young secretary |
never got another invitation. i
1
A Natural Salmon-Trap. i
The salmon, the cousin of the trout, J
s famous for its method of going up ,
stream: it darts at falls ten or twelve
'cot high, leaps into the air and rushes J
.ip the falling water in a marvelous
nanncr. So determined arc the salmon i
:o attain the high and safe waters, that
n some localities nets are placed be
neath the falls, into which the fish tumble
in their repeated attempts to clear
the liiil of water. Other than human
hunters, moreover, profit by these
scrambles up-hill. Travelers report
hat on the banks of the Upper St John
[liver, in Canada, there was once a rock
n which a large circular well, or pothole,
had been worn by the action of
:he water. At the salmon season, this
:ock proved a favorite resort for bears;
md for a ^ood reason. Having an esxxrial
tasv for salmon, the bears would
.vatchatthe pot-hole, and as the salnon,
dashing up the fall, were thrown
:>y its force into the rocky basin, the
aears would quickly scrape them out of
he pot-hole, and the poor salmon would
je eaten before they had time to won.ler
at this unlooked-for reception. The
Dominion Government finally auinoriz;d
a nartv of hunters to destrov the
)ot-holc, anil thus break up the bears'
ishin^ ground.?C. F. Holder in St.
\~ickol<UL
yellow.
Mr. John Henry Grimes, a native of
Nova Scotia, resident of San Francisco,
has four perfectly developed and serviceable
ears.
A subterranean outlet to the Great
Salt Lake of Utah has recently been
found. The lake was discovered by
Colonel John C. Fremont in 1846.
Mrs. Livermore thinks the future of
New England is behind her, and that
the hope of progress now lies in the
Western States settled from New England
stock. .
In 1883 an American farm was estab
lished m Corea, whereon nothing was
to be grown but American vegetables.
A recent report says the enterprise has *
proved an entire success.
A Chinese banker, Han Qua, of Canton,
is said to be the wealthiest man inthe
world. He pays taxes upon an estate
of $450,000,000, and is estimated to
be worth $1,400,000,000.
Some one wrote Gen. Sherman a 'let--.
ter requesting a lock of his hair and an
autograph. In reply the general said: .
"I regret to state that as mv orderly is
bald, and as the man who formerly
wrote my autographs has been dismissed.
I cannot comply with your request"
This was mailed without his
signature.
At the recent meeting of a philosophical
association in New York, the president,
Mr. Latimer, read a paper on the
"Migration of Races," in which lie
maintained that the Anglo-Saxons are
the remains of the lost tribes of Israel,
though he acknowledged the proof of
the statement to be a little difficult of
comprehension to the ordinary mind.
j. tie late Dr. Humphrey Sandwith, of ?
Kars, when he stood for Marylebone ' some
years ago, was told at an electioneering
meeting that he wasn't a work
ingman. "I don't know exactly what
you mean by workingman," was the
cheery reply, "but I have worked hard
all my life. For several months I
groomed my own horse, and, what is
more, I ate him afterward."
Some men while fishing^ in White
river, Indiana, one night recently,
a_?iV? ncilrwr f/-.y ? J-? 1 ol.'lCiCT
rather transversely across. Investigation
revealed the fact that the "backlog"
was bone?a huge femur of a mas- v ?
todon.
In a paper on the rule of the road,
from a scientific standpoint, George
Campbell, a member of the English
parliament, maintains that the most
natural and convenient method for all
right-handed people is to turn. to tho
left on meeting others on the road, as is
done in Great Britain, instead of turning
to the right, as we do in this country.
He opposes the proposition to make
a change in England.
Tn jvnr>iertfc times /vmhlprs mnrip shrkfls
ant of hides, flax, silk, cloth, wood, iro:>.
silver and gold, and in great variety o!
shapes, plam-and ornamental. In" the
eleventh century the upper part of the
shoe was made of leather and the solo
n-oocL The Saxons wore shoos with
thongs. In the year 1090, in the reten ?
Df William Rufus, the great dandy Robart
was called "the hornet," because he
svore shoes with long points, stuffed,
turned up and twisted Ske homs. The
:Iergy waged war on this fashion until
it was discontinued.
The man who gave John Husch, of
bt. Louis, a loaded cigar is now invited \
to come into court and answer in a
?o,000 damage suit Mr. Husch sat
.iown at home to enjoy his cigar, and, .
to add to the happiness of the occasion,
took his wife on his lap. The cigar exploded,
and Mrs. Husch was severely injured,
We have no wish to interfere in
:i matter that in no way concerns us;
but, when a man so flies in the face of
the social usages of his town as the
St. Louis man aid in taking his wife on
[lis lap, it seems to us that he ought to
abide by the consequences.
An acquaintance of Walt Whitman
says: "I never knew a man to be more . popular
with the ladies than the old "> %
poet, and especially with English ladies.
He is constantly in receipt of
ipistles from them praising his verses. ?^fl
Hie old man, by the way, while not 11
rolling in wealth, is still coming on ; ffij
quite comfortably. He has a steady,
if small, income from his books. His ^w|
receipts from England are larger than ^
those in this country. A short time ago n
he got $160 for one article, in an En- 1
jlish magazine. As his wants are simple,
it doesn't take much to satisfy him."
Clerical starvation is little less than a " :
in thr* T. ic/v/\y>o 1
tkl< AUVV a >4 V liV J. 4 vvvcvuiiv A>Jk/i?JVVj^a4
L'lmrch, according to the assertion of
the Church Press, which argues that |
ivhen a man lias been duly ordained to
the cure of souls lie is entitled to an adequate
support for himself and family
from the bishop by whom he has been
?et apart, and from the parish in which.
lie toils. The editor tells of a clergyman
who was induced to relinquish a
mercantile position worth 84,000 a year,
and during ten years of ministerial life
has never received more than $500 a . 4
rear, and now he has a wife and four
bhildren: yet he is strongly indorsed by
his bishop and approved by his parishes.
Another case taken as an example"!^
that of a man earnest and devoted to ,
the work, a good reader and a fiir
preacher. He has a wife and six children.
He is promised $500 a vear. and
furni.-hes his own house. In point of
fact he received last year less than $400
salary. He has had parishioners at
summer resorts who have not contributed
one dime to their minister s support
_
An analysis of some of Lord Randolph
Churchill's recent speeches shows
that he has spoken of Mr. Gladstone as:
"An unkenneled fox"'; "a purblind and
sanctimonious Pharisee": "that.
moonstruck Minister"; fthe Moloch of
Midlothian."
? ?