University of South Carolina Libraries
. * *" ! THE ABBEVILLE PRESS & BAMER j " # i . . . . ' ?.V> /;*; . * !?: 3 BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBEK 13, 1876. YOLUME XXIY.-NO. 23. ' ;j . ?? Rest. 5? f \ , -r , My feet are wearied and my hands are tired? My soul oppressed? And with desire have I long desired Rest?only rett. Tis hard to toll?when toil is almost vain? In barren ways ; Tis hard tc sow and never garner grain In harvest days. The burden of my day is hard to bear? Bnt God knows best; And I have prayed, bnt vain has been my prayer, V ; For rest?sweet rest. Tis hard to plant In spring and never reap The autumn yield; Tis hard to till?and when 'tis tilled to weep . O'er fruitless field. ~ > -V*. ' And so I-cry a weak and human cry, So heart oppressed; And so I sigh a'weak and human sigh For rest?for rest. My way has wound across the desert yearn, **1 And cares infeet My path ; and tbrongb tbe flowing or not tears I pii^ed for rent. Twas alwitye bo ; when still a chill, I laid 4 I On mother's breast y wearied little bead; e'en then I prayed, f ? As now,, for rent. 9 r f * ?, And I am restless still. 'Twill soon be o'er; For, down the west Life's son is setting:, and I soe the shore Where I ahall rest. 1 ,&l!ij5?eat fool. His name wsr John Holt; and, moreover, be looked like his name, or like the image which the sound of his name, -? ? ao II nr* fVio in & UIU11UU GCfcX, WVUIVI vou u^/ Ui vuv mind. For John should be strong, and quiet, and true, and grave, and John Holt was all of these. His skin was fair ' and tis eyes bine, but the hair, which had been tow colored in his childhood, had deepened to brown. Ordinary persons woald call him good looking, rather handsome, but a close observer would pronounce his profile perfect, aud his mouth and chin models of firm an 1 symmetrical chiseling. The brows were straight i-nd strong, though smooth, and hia not very high forehead was broad and open. John Holt's characteristics were a ~ Womanish gentleness, a most marvelous ?nr? nhmrd honestv.and a patience which. to them, looked only too much like cowardice. In his family John was called a great fool. John's father had died when the lad was but ten years old, and left his wife to bring up her .'amily of five children and manage the farm. She was perfectly Capable of doing it, and even wary business men were on th< ir guard when making a bargain with the sharp Yankee matron. Pour of hor children followed * in her footsteps, and knew perfeotly well wlich was the best e^id of the bargain ; but John?well, if he was a fool it was not becaase she had not warned and talked to him. T/iV.t> /li/1 not crmxv tsi.q/tr oa Vifi dttaw VVUil um "WW W ' "WV? w ?? Q , older, and took upon himself the cares of life. Mrs Holt had a large and n .valuable farm just on the borders of the town. Streets had crept * gradually about her fields, and surrounded them on three sides; on the fourth woodlands stretched back toward the east. Why she should give the control of this place to John, instead of one his sharper * brother*, was a puzzle even to her own mind. The only reason she could give was that John was steady and quiet, and more likely to remain home than the others ware. But she confessed to herself to be in continual tribulation with " him. "My dear," she said, to a crony, "you know that-flfty cords of wood we ha J, good be^cK, birch and maple, with not more thau twenty sticks of spruce *".? through tho whole? Well, John must mention that f-tovefnl of spruce, and so i u .. i ? .... t t ?? lose UVU UUllUIS I'll mo i iJCVCi did see such a fuoi. i'jjeu he wanted to hurry off our potatoes last fall for fear of rot. I told Jobn particularly not to own to it speck ; but, it yuu will believe it, when Thurl"w came to buy them, and asked if we had seen any signs of rot, that niany said : 'Yes, a little,' t.iough I vow I don't believe there were six epotfl larger than the head of a pin in the whole lot. I don't know where the fellow got his shiftlepsn^-ss. I'm sure I could always make a bargain." John took all this very quietly, as we have said. He kuew that though his mother wonld say such things to others, she would by no means have allowed any one to say them to her. Rut oue thing he could not bear wna that Nellie Cramer should talk in the same way. Nellie seomed to delight i*> tormenting him She would follow him into the gaidens and fields, hang on his arm with her curls blowing across his bre?Mt, looking up smiling and chatting into his face, so soft aid sweet as a bitten; then suddenly, if h? chanced to prens thc.ne wandering curls against his breast, or to bend too near her lovely upturned face, or to breathe a word of tenderness, off she went wi'ch a toes of the head and a curl of the lip, and as likely as not, some , such speech as: " I do wish you would not be so foolish, John Holt!" He never got sngry with her. How could he? But sometimes a shadow would drop over his face, and he wouldn't have much to suy to her for a time. Then, when she weijt to him with her coBxing w*.ys, nnd laid hei littlehand on His arm, whispering: 44 No r, don't be vne.], John; I like yon bo mncli, hut I don't want you to tulk nonsense," he would look down and smile, though not vt-ry brightly, and , promise to try to uvidd nonsense for the i fntxire, ending his promise with a sigh. 44 Dt ar ! I wish yon wouldn't sigh bo, John 1" the g rl wonld say, pettishly. 14 It makes me feel luelancholy to hear you. One would think I had done something dreadful to yon." |f Then John Holt would smile again, still lt?.?R brightly, and promise to try not to sigli any more. Such little scenes as this were more asides, however. Nellie usually paid but little attention to John, being chiefly occupied in daaciug, flirting, aud quarreling wi th Lis more showy brother Frank, or with any other gay fellow who was so unfortunate hk to betaken with her pretty face. For Nellie was an incorrigible flirt. It was only when Khe had no one else to to Ik to. or wanted to pique some other lover, or wi-en she wanted some real service, that she went to John, who was sometimes pleased and sometimes hurt to see that she came \ to nun only wnensne wanted neip or huvioe. " You are a sort of grandfather, you know," she said one day, giving his arm 1 a squeeze. " I have an idea that yon are about seven ty-five years old. How old are yon, John ?" " I am just one-third of that,"hesaid, . Bmflicg. "I am only a month past twenty-five." * "Possible! "Well, you must have bren very old when you were bom. twenty-flve is old to m<\ I am ' ot.ly nineteen. Now, yon come and h'-ormy ?fo'jyand tell me what to do. I can e over here on purpose to see you." Johy fallowed her obediently through the gardt t>, and down to a beech under thesbielew of Hie beecli grove mi the town; and when she took her seat there I he leaned against the trunk of a tree and waited, looking down on her. "You see, John," she begun, "I've had an offer." John Holt was tanned that summer, but through the brownness one might have seen a faint blush run over his face. Nellie didn't see it, for she was looking down and rolling her apron tassels, a very bright color in her own face. There was a moment's silence after this announcement, and Beeing that he was expected to say something, John presently said " Yes." Nellie gave her shoulders an impatient shrug, and looked up. "It's a very good offer," she went on. "I supSose you will guess from whom. It is ames Lee. I told him I would think about it, and tell him my decision tomorrow. Now, he's very well off, you * " ?'? V- #.i1 U? 1 III Know, ana wnen ms iatuer uiw u? wm be rich. Bat tnen, of course, there's no hurry about that. But the trouble is this, James will live all his days in Biceville, I am positive; and that is dreadful. You know I want to live in a city, and want my husband to make a figure in the world. And James, why, James is almost as much of a deacon as you are." "You are complimentary," observed John Holt, with a certain quiet dignity. The blush had quite gone from has face, and Bome of the brownness seemed to have gone, too; for he looked slightly pale. "Oh, I don't mean any harm, yon cross fellow," Nellie said, hastily, u You know I think you are splen^ " "I am much obliged to you," he eaid, with a stiffness which was quite new to his manner. " Ob, if you don't want to advise me, I won't trouble you," the girl flung out, rising in a pet. " Come back, Nellie," he said, kindly. "I am not cross. Only tell me what you want." She seated herself again with a little quiver in her lip. "I want you to tell me what you think of James Lee. Tell me if you fhink I'd better marry him. Tell me if you think he cares enough for me to go just where I say, and live where I wiali." The oolor wavered again in John Holt's face, and he drew a quick breath. Some impulse to speak seemed to oome upon him. Glancing up for his answer, Nellie saw the change, and added a word: "You see, John, I like Albert Leighton better than I do James." The color and light dropped out of 1119 IIKX5 Ugttlll9 UUU a J."" VI otuu r*mtv teeth pressed for an instant his under UP- , "Then why don't you marry Albert Leighton?" ho asked, looking up into the tree that spread over his head, and reaching to break a slender twig. " Ho never asked me to," she answered, demurely. 'I suppose he means to, doesn't he?" asked John, looking at her with a glanco that might be called almost haughty. " How can I tell ?" Nellie pouted. " Men are so queer. The most of them would rather wait to be asked, I think." "If yon want my advice, I will give it," John said, twisting and flinging away the little twig in his hand. " If , you like Albert, don't keep James in suspense. You have no right to do it. You can't seriously think of marrying one man when you prefer another. If Albert , likes you, as I believe he does, take him. He's a good fellow." "You tMnk so?" the girl said, looking up suddenly. "I tnink so," he repeated, turning arrrarr ?? VriTE- lot.'a Ctf\ Tin fn UlA VimiHM " """j- *wn *v.vDw-r She rose and walked quietly by his side, her fair, girlish face a little pale, Ler eyes downcast. At the gate she stopped. 44 I will not go in now," she said, in a low tone. " I will go home." He merely bowed, and looking back after a few steps, she saw that he bad not entered the house, but was stealing ofl' toward the barn. . The next week James Lee commenced a violent flirtation with Bessie Holt, John's sister, and in a month the two were engaged. Nellie laughed, and turned the light of her smiles upon Albert Lcigbton, a handsome, dashy fellow, who bad been crazy about Lee for the last six months. John Holt paid nothing, but was rather cool about hie i sister's engagement. You se<j, suspense would have killed Uim," Nellio whispered, misohicvously. 441 hope be isn't marrying my sister out of pique toward you," John said, c >ldly. 44 If I didn't think Bessie loved him too well to eivo him up. I would tell ! < her." "And betray my confidence, John i Holt," N< llie exclaimed. "I tell yon, ' he is likn moat of you men?purely sel- i fish. Ho didn't care a fig about me. I < think he seems to like Bef-eie." i "When are you going to be married ?" he asked, abruptly. The question camn so suddenly that for onco tho girl lost her oompoRuro. A crimson blush swept over her face, and : fdie dropped her eyes without being able to speak a word. She recovered herself in a minute, and ] protested that she had no thought of marrying. Bat the blush had convicted her in John Holt's eyes, and he soucely 1 nearu a worn mat sue saw. It was winter, and while they talked < they were waiting, with half a dozen other f, for a large sleigh that was coming to take them out to a party given by a friend seven or eight miles off in the country. Even before Nellie's blush had faded,tho trampling and jingling at the gate attracted their attention, and Albert Leighton put his hrad in at the door to call thom. Bessie and hei lover come forth from an adjoinirg room, an other group caim* up from a distant window, and they all rangayly out and bun- j died into their places. j The party passed off as such things ' usually do. All seemed to enjoy themselves; Nellie was lovely as a pink and full of mischief, Leightnu was attentive, and John Holt was cheerful and kind to everybody. He was fully as quiet as 1 usual, to be sure, and rather avoided Nelliu Cramer, but it is doubtful if any I one but hersolf noticed that. It was twelve o'clock when they start- j > ed to go home, and the moon had set. I At firsS their tfayety held out, but after a mile or so fatigue and want of sloop begun to tell on them, and one by one they fell into silence. "John," Nellie said, "there is just room for me on the seat with you. May I come there? It is cold here." He made room for her in silence, and she left her discomfited escort and took her place next that strong shoulder. Then silence fell again; but after a while, in the darkness, John Holt was aware of a light pressure against his arm, then a soft, plaintive whisper stole into his ear. " I am so sleepy, John !" ? - ***** ?i? rm,A? He turned a nine?wuy mm iuoj were old friends?and lifted his arm to the back of the seat, took the head softly and tenderly to his bosom. And so she lay in that faith fnl and tender clflsp till they drew Dear home; then, with one whispered word of loving gratitude : " Nobody is so good as you I" she drew away, and took Albert Leigh ton's Land to step ont at her own door. After n r-'ir in bis own mind, John j Holt concluded tuut Nellii) and Aibert had quarreled. He sighed, oinoe she 1 could not hear, and sobeannoyed, pitied the girl, and then went steadily about his work. The waters of his soul were too deep for babbling. When spring came, for the first time in his life John electrified his friends. He was going to California. The announcement was made quietly but firmly, and he stood like a rock against which expostulation beat itself to spray. He gave good reasons, and resolutely maintained his right to choose for himself. " You have always said, mother, that you wished I were more venturesome," he said. "I am going to please you. now, "But how is the farm to get along without you ?" she objected. "Frank understands everything, and can manage." Mrs. Holt took courage, and, breaking over some little awe which, in spite of her talk, she felt for her son, spoke out: "John, has that Nell Cramer jilted you ?" "Jilted me!" he said, flushing as much with anger as with surprise. "What do you mean, mother? We have always been good friends, but never any more. I never gave her the chance to jilt me." "Then why don't you give her the chanoe ?" persisted his mother, who did not choose to give up, now that the ice was broken. " Nell is a good girl, if she does flirt a little. I always thought that.she liked you, only that you wera too slow to see it. Then, Nell has got a little sum of money of her own that wouldn't be amiss." "You are entirely mistaken, mother," he said, decisively. " Don't let us say any more about it." " Oh, you great fool!" muttered the mother, looking after him as he went out. Was there ever a man so blind 1 He is. no more fit to live in. the world , than an angel out of htaven is." , Th?n nooiricr Nflllio Oramer nassmc the street, she lifted her voioe and called her in. . , The girl came in, wondering at such a peremptory summons. " Gome and sit by mo I" oommanded the matron, and Nellie obeyed. ^ Mrs. Holt scanned her from head to foot, tbe neat, trim figure in its snugly i fitting paletot of dark gray, tbe green bonnet, that brought out her fresh, clear . color with a new luster, and the fair, , bright face. ( "Did you know that our John is . going to California?" asked Mrs. Holt, J abruptly, her keen eyes on the girl's , face. All the oolor faded out of it in an in- : Htant, and Nellie Cramer dropped into a chair as suddenly as if she had been : shot. She sat there and looked at the ! other with her strained eyes, but said no < word. . " i " Yes," said Mrs. Holt, unable to re- i press a slight smile of satisfaction at : this proof of the correctness of her sur- i ruiso; "yes, he's Bet on oing in spite of j ell I can say. He is going iu a month ] or six weeks. Let me see; this is the ; middle of April. He says he shall start i by the first of June, at furthest." i That smile of Mrs. Holt's was an unfortunate one. Nellie had always feared those sharp eyes, and now the thought flashed into her mind that John's mother was trying to expose and mortify her. j A woman's pride will do a good deal for < her, even when her heart is breaking. ( It brought the color to her face again, , find strengthened her trembling limbs. } It steadied her voice and her eyes. Mrs. . Holt was puzzled and disconcerted by j the sudden chan ge. ( "lam so sorry?" Nellie said, in a tone of fearless regret. " We can scarce- , ly get along without John. He seems ( Rnch a standby. But men ought not to be tied at home, L think. if they chose to go, they should be allowed their own way. There he in now in the garden. I am going <.ut to speak to him of it." ? "Try lo coax him to stay, Nellie," ( aid the mother, in a tone of more entreaty than, perhips, she had ever used in hrr life before. " He is a good eon, and 1 can't get along without him. I think you can keep him if you will." This prayer would havo been effeotual, but for the niemory of that hmile which mukled in the girl's heart. Had she not given John libit every encouragement, if he had cared about her? Had she rot paid and done things so affectionate toward him that she had blushed with hhame thinking cf them afterward? John was no fool, and if he had cared for her, he might have understood. TT . 1 3 L .U1_ no tiau pruu;iuijf uceu bij/iug iaj pun 1101 j back. With thefe thoughts burning in her heart, Nellie Cramer went directly to John Holt as he walked up and down the garden. He stopped, seeing her, und looked wistfully into her face. Though he had denied his mother so il.-cidedly, her words had not been withnut weight. Women understood each at her. Could it bo possible? and there was Nellie coming down the walk. Her .head was erect, and her face perfectly composed, though slightly pale. " I am so sorry," she begun. " lour mother has been telling me of your |.'!:ms. Of course, you know best what ix good for you, and I have been telling her to let you have your own way. But wo shall all be sorry to lose you, John." That was all. He gave a last grasp at bi* self-command, and held it. There <vas a short, formal conversation, both so engaged in making a pretense of being 1 kiud and friendly, and just as usual, that each c;?uld not perceive that the . ?ther was al-o making a pretense ; and four weeks a'ter they parted with loler- ( ible composure, and Jphn Holt went to i California. '* ' Bo stayed there five years, and sent 1 ais mother hor gold spoon. He stayed 1 Mrrifl hnTYlA ' /UlUU VCIUO iVS-Ugls 1) c*11\A VJL4VAM v iimself. Nullio was Nellie Cramer still, j ;hey t-old him, and was much sobered. ' Someway ti.iv. liadn't seemed to care mnch ibout flirting for several years. Her 1 lather aud mother were dead, and she ? w.vfl keeping house for an unmarried j brother. There were hints that the new sinister went to see her very often, bat k Mrs. Holt didn't believe that Nellie ! would look at him. J John listened, and when evening came ; took his hat aud went out for a walk. * N?> one but Lis own family as yet knew of his return, and he was resolved to see * himself the effect of his coming 011 Nel- 1 lie. The soft spring twilight was set- * Uiog down when he reached her house, ' aud as he walked quietly up the path, a 1 slight figure sat in a window, looking out, singing lowly to herself in a mournful reverie. She did not see him, but when he came nearer he saw her face 1 clearly. The round outlines and bright ] color were gone, but he was forced to j own that she had grown far more beauti- j ful. The chastened luster of the eyes, 1 the firmer, sweeter closing of the mouth, ] the purer and more perfect outlines?all ] belonged to one who had eaten of the ( bread of sorrow, p.nd had found a bless- ( ing in its bitterness. _ j Something swept over nis neart witn passionate force?some regret, some longing, he scarce knew what. If he ] had suffered at losing her eight years before, he felt that such a loss now | would kill him. He quietly entered the t open door, paused on the threshold of i the room where she sat alone. She still sncg softly, but, as he looked, i stopped, sighed, and became silent "Nelli'1!" he would have said, but , his v-jic*. wa< only a whisper. He went forward into the shadowy room. " Is it you, James ?" she said, half turning, expecting her brother. John took a step nearer, and this time his voice did not fail. "Nellie!" She started, half rose, hesitated, then, as he took one step nearer, sprung with a glad cry into his extended arms. "I thought you never would oome, John 1" she sobbed. " Were you waiting for me'?" he asked. "Did you care forme before I ? L fj?> WOUl OWttJ I "Then ami always, John. How could you be so blind ?" John Holt smoothed her hair tenderly, for one moment of silenoe; then exclaimed, as though some great truth had suddenly dawned upon him. "I deserved it! I always thought them wrong, but they were right. I was, indeed, a great fool I" The Honey Bee. There are some things in the history of the honey bee which shows a fidelity and devotion that is really touching. There is something almost human in their loyalty to their sovereigns. Several instanoes are upon record where bees watched over and guarded the remains of their queen for days, licking and caressing her as thoueh they were trying to restore her to life. Though food oniMiliiul fViair Tofnafl/1 t/i oof And At TT UU OU|/|/UUU KUVJ *V* MUUM ww w?J . the end of four days every bee was dead. When a queen makes a royal progress through the hive she is always attended by a body guard, not a particular number of bees which are devoted to her person, but a body guard whioh forms itself at her approach out of the subjects through whom she is about to pass, but who fall back into their regular work whan she has gone by. She never lacks the most dutiful and devoted attention ; those about her, whenever she moves, caress her, offer her honey, and cluster around her to keep her warm if Bhe is chill. When a swarm loses a queen, they are at first in deep and violent grief ; if a Dew queen is immediately given to them, they refuse to accept her. If, however, twenty-four hours is allowed to elapse, they reconcile themselves to the idea of her loss, and rooeive a substitute with royai nonors. The instinct of the bees denies all oar traditions of instinct, it adapts itself to circumstances, overcomes new and unexpected obstacles, benefits bj experience, employs temporary expedients, and then casts them aside when the occasion for their use is gone, in a way which is marvelously like reason. It is, indeed, difficult to draw any Jine between the two qualities when looked at in minute detail; it is only in its cumulative power, which produces such different effects, that we can dare to make the distinction, and then we are at a loss for a definition. It is strange to find in the insect world, among an order of beings fio low in the scale of the naturalist, a faculty so near akin to the divine gift of reason which is man's crowning glory. But it is just here among the bees and among the ants that it is most marveloos 1 ind mostperfeot.?Scientific American. A Story of Gambling, 9nmn f tronfr-Altrht VAArfl A CD. fliid Y ?"WMV *"0 ?r o / I 3enator Jones, of Nevada, I went to California, and on the way out was an ' ild gambler, with a set out of faro boxes, roulette tables, etc. He took a liking to j ne, and ho Raid : "Johnny, I'll tell yon , i secret that may save you many a dol- 1 ar. Do you see this wheel f it's cir;le is black and red, and they bet on the ! ;olors?a nearly even, chanoe. Now, . watch me, Johnny, as I set here and ; spin the ball. Do you see me gently uise my knee and press under the ' 'rime of the table ? Well, those red and 1 black compartments are connected by 1 t*7o sets of wires. I raise my knee ( when I see that the bulk of money is on 1 ilio red, and that wire running throngh ;he reds trills and trembles, so that the ! ball won't rest on any red cell, but is re- , Polled and settles in some black spot. Johnny, remember this when you have J bagged your gold dust." I went into a , gambling house about a year afterward to make a stake. There was a fine, j fighting gambler sitting there spinning roulette. Said I to myself: " Young man, I'll just take a peep at your knees." ' Be raised them very gently, and I planted my money against the pile, ; knowing that when he swept the great j imount off for the red he must pay the black. So I picked up a hundred dol- ' [are or so. Every time I hit it. That ' 1-1 i T. T4. < jiimDier got, uih eyo uu me, xn who uu ?ye fall of smallpox Audacity. He ad- \ Sressed mo finally in a load tone of poice. Said he : " Didn't I tell you 1 Dover to come here again? Didn't I j *11 you that this was a place for gentlemen? This a gentleman's game. That man, gentlemen, it is my duty to warn pou againBt; that loafer is a thief." ( Well, continued Jones, I had never in J my life been there before, but I saw the 1 scheme. If I resented what the boss , Kiid there were forty fellows there, cap- , pprs and so forth, to kiok me down itnirs and rob me, so I meekly said: ; " "Well, sir, I do not wish to make any . iibturbance here. If you don't want ne here I'll take my money and go." ( A Stage Kiss. 1 The other night at the imperial op^era, ! Vienna, a handsome tenor, Bastiano , SVidmann, having to kiss tne soprano, , Jignorina Giovanni, in Lortzing's opera j )f the "Armoarer," that lady, at the , ehearsal, requested him to " make , relieve " in the correct Viennese man- , ier. When the proper moment came ] it the first performance the handsome , :enor plumply and resonantly kissed the } istonished soprano upon her rosy lips. : Bignorina Giovanni, after the ourtain , 'ell. went in a pretty rage to the man- , igor and complained. The manager lent for the handsome tenor and requested him to restrain his ardor. When ;he second representation took place, aignorina Giovanni, distrusting him, ixcltiimed, loud enough for the house to lear: "I will excuse you from the kiss." The handsome tenor, inoensed at the nsnlt, responded in a stage whisper : 'Thank God for that. Who wants to lies such an old thing?" The house sat ippalled. Signorina Giovanna flounoed )ff th9 stage and the handsome tenor ias been bidden to apologize or abicond. If I Had Leisure. " If had leisure I would repair that sveak place in my fence," said a farmer. He had none, however, and while drinking oider with a neighbor the cows broke in and injured a prime pieoe of corn. " If I had leisure," said a wheelwright last winter, "I would alter my stovet i?? ?/? ?? i,q pipe, 1VI A niiUVY it in XiUl CKIIO. UUV did not find time, and when his shop caught Are and burned down he found i time to build another. "If I had I leisure," eaid the mechanio, " I should I have my work done in season." The i man thinks his time has been all oocu- 1 pied, but he was not at work till after i sunrise; he quit work at five o'clock, < Bmoked a cigar after dinner and spent I two hours on the street talking nonsense i with an idler. " If I had leisure," said 1 a merchant, " I would pay more attention to my accounts and would try and i collect my bills more promptly." The i chance is, my friend, if you had leisure you would probably pay less attention to the matter. A THRILLING ADVENTURE. How a Newspaper Man Cheated the - Mloax?Retreat of the Thirty Uader Groa&rd, the Seoat. We were looking death fall in the face, says a correspondent of a Chicago paper, and so close that we oonld feel his oold breath npon onr foreheads, and his icy grip upon our hearts. " No surrender, was the word passed from man to man. Each one of us would have blown out his own brains rather than fall alive into Indian hands. A disabling wound would have been the same as death. I have often wondered how a man felt when he saw ? * * i L.i I-.- T inevitaDie, snaaen aoom Deiore iuuj. x know it now, for I had no idea of escape, and conld not have suffered more if an Indian knife or bnllet had pierced my heart. So it was with all of us. It is one thing to face death in the midst of excitement. It is quite another thing to meet him in almost cold blood, with the prospeot of your dishonored carouse being first mutilated and then ltft to feed the fox and the vulture. After a man once sees the skull and crossbonea as our party saw it on the afternoon of July 7, no subsequent glimpse of grim mortality can possibly impress him in the same manner. Well, the eternal shadows were fast dosing around us; the bullets were hitting nearer every moment, and the Indian yell was growing stronger and fiercer, when a hand was laid on mj shoulder, and a soldier named RufuT, my neighbor on the skirmish line, said: " The rest are retiring, Lieutenant Sibley tells us to do the same." I quietly withdrew from the friendly pine tree which had kept at least a dozen Indian bullets from makiug havoc of my body. " Go to your saddle bags and take all your ammunition." said Siblev. as I passed him. " We are going to abandon the horses. The Indians are all aronnd ns, and we must take to the rocks on foot It is our only chance." I did as directed, but felt a pang at leaving my noble beast, which was bleeding from a wound in the side. We dared not thoot our horses, for that would disoover our movement to the enemy. Grouard advised this proceeding. With a oeierity which was only possible to men struggling for life, and to escape a dreadful fate, our party obeyed their orders, and, in Indian file, retired through the wood and fallen trees in our rear, toward the east, firing a volley and some scattering Bhoto before we moved out, to make the Indians believe we were still in position. Our horses were ovidently visible to the savages?a circumstance that facilitated our escape. We ran for a mile through the forest, waded Tongue river (the headwaters) up to our waist, and gained the rocks of the mountain range, where no Indian pony could follow us, when we heard Ave or six scattering volleys in succession. It was the final fire of the Indians before they made their oharge at our late "corral" to get our scalps. "We are safe for the present," said Grouard, with a grim smile, " but let us lose no time in putting more rocks between us and the White Antelope." We followed bis advice with a feeling of thankfulness which only men in snch trials can ever know. How astonished the Indians must have been when they ran in upon the maimed horses and did not get a single scalp! Even under such circumstances as we were placed in, we had a little langh at their expenee. But we bod escaped one danger only to encounter another. Fully forty Ave miles of mountain rock and forest lay bptween as and Crook's camp. We coull not carry a single particle of food, and had to throw a way everything superfluous in the way of clothing. With at least live hundred Indians behind us, and uasount. d precipices before up, we found our i.fles and ono hundred rounds of ammunition each, a sufficient load to jarry. The brave Grouard, the ablest of scouts, conducted our retreat, and we marched, climbed, and tumbled over plaoes that at ether times would have been impossible to us, until midnight. Then we halted under an immense pile of rooks on the top of the mountain, and there witnessed one of the most terrible wind storms that can be imagined. Long before dawn we were again stumbling through the rocks and forest, and at daylight reached the tremendous canyon cut in the mountains by what is called the eastern fork of Tongue river. Most of our men were too exhausted to make the desoent of the canyon, so Grouard led us through an open valley down by the river, on the left bank, for two miles as hard as we could go, for if discovered there by the savages, we oould 1_ 1..U 3 Ji- 4.1 my iiaii tuiu uiu lugoiuex. x uibuuu favored ub, and we made the right bank d? the stream unobserved, being then ibout twenty-five miles from Crook's headquarters. In our front were the plains of the eastern slope, fall of hostile Indians, while our only avenue of essape was to climb over the tremendous precipice which formed the right side of the canyon. Bat the dauntless Grouard was equal to the crisis. He scaled that gigantic wall diagonally, and led us along a mere sqnirrel path, not more than a foot wide, with an abyss five hundred feet below, and with a sheer wall of rook two hundred feet high above us. After in hour's herculean toil we gained the arest and saw the point of the mountain, ibout twenty miles distant, where lay dot camp. This, as may be imagined, was a blissful vision, but we were half lead with fatiiroe. and some of us were almost famine stricken. Yet the indefatigable Grouard would not stop until we reached the eastern, foothills, where we made a dive into the valley to obtain water, our only refreshment on that hard, rugged road. Scarcely had we slaked our thirst, when Grouard led us ap the hills a.amin, and we had barely reached the timber when, around the rocks, at the point we had doubled shortly before, appeared another strong party of Sioux. This made us desperate. Every man examined his rifle and looked to his ammunition. We all felt ;hat life would be too dearly purchased by farther flight, and, following the example of the brave young Sibley and ;he two gallant scouts, we took up our position among the rocks on the knoll we had reached, determined to sell our lives as dearly as possible. " Finerty," jaid Sibley to me, "we are in hard luck, but we'll show the red scoundrels how 1 *1 - ?~ J*" TJawo / fri *VjQ1W3 ULHL1 (JttU UIO. xj\jjo ^uu&ujLug w bhe soldiers), we have a good position; let every shot dispose of an Indian." At that moment not a man among us felt any inclination to get away. Desperation and revenge had usurped the place of the animal instinct to preserve sur lives. Hut we were spared the or3eal. The Sioux failed to observe us, ind, very fortunately, they did not advance high enough to find our trail, but kept eastward on the lower branch of Tongue river. Thoroughly worn out we all fell aaleep, exoepting the tireless scouts, and awoke at dark somewhat refreshed. Not a man of us, Sioux or no Sioux, oould endure the mountain journey longer, so we took our jaded hunted lives into our hands, and struck along the valley, aotually wading Big Goose creek up to our arm pits, at three o'clook 3unday morning, the water being oold as the mountain snow oould make it. Two men, Sergeant Oornwell and Private Collins, were too exhausted to oross, so they hid in the brush until we Bent two companies of cavalry after them, when we reached camp. Alter crossing Big Goose we were nearly a dozen miles from our camp on Little Goose creek, and you may judge how badly we were used up, when it took four hours to make six miles. The rocks had skinued our feet, and starvation had weakened our frames. Only a few were vigorous enough to push on. At five o'clock wo saw a few more Indians but we took no pains to conceal ourselves further. They evidently mistook us for a camp outguard, and, being only a handful, kept away. . At seven o'clock we met some cavalry out hunting, and we sent into camp for horse?, as most of them oould go no further. Captain De Wees, and Rowelle, of the Second cavalry, came out for us with led horses, and we reached camp at ten o'clock Monday morning, amid congratulations from every side. The men who remained at Goose creek were brought in some hours later. Thus, after passing through incredible danger and great privation, every man of our thirty, unwounded, as by a miracle, found himself safe in Camp Oloud Peak, surrounded by oom raaes. i! or conaucnng inis reireac warn such consummate success, Frank Grouard deserves the highest plaoe among the scouts of the American continent. SIoox War Parties. To organize a war party, a few bucks will go around the camp at midnight singing love Bongs to the squaws, and finishing with a signal song, saying they are going to the Medicine rook (a well known landmark about twenty miles from the camp), and will wait four days; all those wishing to join procure their ammunition and necessaries, leave camp quietly at different times, and on the fourth day all are at the Medicine rock, where they agree upon the route and choose a leader. They start for the enemy's camp by an outside, untraveled road, to hide their trail, traveling about twenty miles a day, keeping in tne timber as much as p ssible. If the enemy should discover their trail they would be; cut off and few escape. When within ten miles of the enemy's village they leave the extra horses, eto., with the boys in the timber and proceed, with their war rig and horses, to the village at night and get under cover behind a knoll or in the woods. They are very cautious, and prefer waiting to find some buck looking for his ponies, or squaw going for wood, that they may have a euro thing of getting a scalp and little danger of losing one. On finding their victim in a safe position, they charge on him, like a pack of wolves, and the first warrior striking the enemy with a hand instrument counts the ooup and some of the others scalp him. . The firing is heard in the village and all is excitement and oonfnsion, the bucks and Bquaws rushing for their ponies, cnimren crying ana aogs parsing. The attacking parties have got the scalp and are off like the wind and the others after them, taking different rontes , to try and head them oft; bnt it generally proves nseless, as the Sionx havie the start,, and the hardy war horse will carry them two hundred miles in twentyfour hours if necessary to escapo. \ J On their return to camp, the war , horse, being now reduced to a mere , skeleton after his long race, is turned in the herd, and on the nutritious buf- j falo grass soon recuperates and is able; i for his master's next service. The "warriors are feasted by nearly every lodge in'tho camp, aud repeat over and over , every little incident and detail of the whole trip. They are listened to with ; the most marked attention and approving words and gestures by the men, women and children. The little youngsters' eyes glisten aud almost pop out with joy and admiration at the account j of twenty or thirty warriors charging an old man or sqaaw, counting the coup, and scalping thorn, and wind up by say- ; iug that if it had not been so cold they , would have killed all, when they ran like | scared coyotes the moment ttiey were pursued. , , Thoughts for Satnrday flight. Experience is a torch b'ghted in the ? ashes of our illusions. It is beautifully said that the veil ' of futurity is woven by the hand of 1 mercy. ] Thefts never enrich, alms never im- 1 poveriah, and prayers hinder no work. j The gem cannot be polished without friction, nor man perfected without adversity. Waste of wealth is sometimes ro- , trieved; waste of health seldom; waste j of time never. j jjaviu B ptiu uovtsr wruKJ mure oweoujr j than when dipped in the ink of affliction. Self-denial is the moat exalted pleasure, and the conquest of evil habits the most glorions triumph. There is no readier way of bringing your own worth into question than by de treating from the worth of others. God will not refuse the poor offerings of poor people; but he will not accept the poor offerings of the rich. The teacher who governs well gains . more by waiting than talking. Many words are^an evidence of weakness, not 1 of strength. Losses may be about the most proflta- . ble outlays you ever made, if you take , into account what they sometimes save you afterward. j Some men make a great flourish , about always doing what they believe j to be right, but always manage to be- . lieve that is right which is for their own i interest. ( Fear small temptations rather than i great ones. These come only now and 1 then; those every day. Beware of be- i ing witty at tne expense ui revereiiuo; j sarcastic at the expense of charity; entertaining at the expense of truth; coarse at the expense of purity. Enthusiasm of the Servians. Of the enthusiasm of all Servia, and of all Sclavos outside of Servia, iu favor of this war, a correspondent writes, there can be no doubt. The atrocious rule of the Turks when they governed this j country, their bad administration in j Bosnia, Herzegovina and Bulgaria at ] the present time, and the barbarous ( cruelty practiced in times of insurrection ] on even the most peaceable of the Chris < tian subjects of the sultan by Bashi- ( Bazonks, Kedifs, Circassians, and other ( irregular troops employed in the work , of endeavoring to pat down these risings j by fire and sword, have sunk so deeply , into the souls of the Servians, that never ] will there be peace in this country until j the last trace of Mussulman rale is a j thing of the past. , The monks have left their convents to | march with the columns going to do , battle, and inspire tbem by the cross whioh they hold aloft at the head of the battalions. Every man and woman in Servia regards the war as one in the cause of Christ and country, and I h ive I not met one of them in any class of life < who could be made to understand why | Servia should .not have the sympathy of I every Christian nation. 1 I Veby Pboud.?The late Lord Alvan- < ley, who was delightfully odd, met the ! ?? J T 3 .( A i i pruuu uuiu ui x/uxutkJLu t?i? niuvpju*, < Prince Woronzow's place on the Euxine, i and Dtjrham, who was filled with an ] amazing quantity of consequence, said, ; in refenLig to some scene of English : hqme life: " I was obliged to assert my i dignity, for the fellows had found out , who I was." The wit looked up and rejoined: "Ah! and who were you?" i THE BUSINESS OUTLOOK. Returning < onfldence?RevlvlnrflTrade? A View ol the Situation. In a few weeks three years will have elapsed einno the breaking out of the panic of 1873. The fictitious rise in values enabled those holding merchandise, stocks, mills, manufactures and real property to borrow largely from capitalists and corporations. In many cases these stocks and properties were mortgaged to the extent of seventy-five per cent, of their then estimated value. In point of fact the actual increase of national wealth during these three prosperous yeais amounted only to the surplus produced each year, whioh was "utterly insignificant when compared with the great increase in all values throughout the country. Meantime an enormous amount of indebtedness was piled up. The crisis of 1878 was simply an awakening of the whole oommunity to the actual state of afEairs. Every one desired to realize; every one desired to be paid. Values reoeded much more rapidly than they had advanced. Confidence was destroyed, and very justly so, as it became patent that a heavy percentage of those indebted were utterly and Hopelessly bankrupt. xneir margins and equities were destroyed by the depreciation of the stocks, merchandise and real properties, which had, under other conditions, formed the basis of their supposed wealth. The major part of these people put off the day of reckoning as long as possible, and hence it is that the number of failures increased bo steadily during the three years of disaster we have jnst pas3ed through. TfTT J, i. XI K.'UL VYiimperueuuige ui meoo lenujreB axw fraudulent it is difficult to say; !-ut that numerous unscrupulous debtors avail themselves of the facilities which are afforded by generous creditors to rid themselves of indebtedness, and start afresh with the capital of their victims, is beyond a doubt Experience of this kind tends to infuse a greater element of caution in future business transactions, whioh is muoh to be desired in this community. It would seem from the semi-annual statement of Dun, Barlow & Co., showing the number of failures throughout the United States and Canada, for the first two quarters of the present year, that the number of failures and the volume of liabilities is very much on the deoline. They culminated with the last quarter of 1875, wnen tney reached $7U,UUU,000, decuning during the first quarter of 1876 to 864,000,000, and during the second quarter to $43,000,000, Bhowing a decline of 821,000,000 over the first quarter of 1876 and a decline of $27,000,000 over the last quarter of 1875. Daring the last three years, while failures were taking place in every direction, almost all business has been transacted on steadily declining values, and, consequently, at aloes. More than three-quarters of the weak brethren have liquidated by bankruptcy. An immense mass of individual indebtedness has been actually paid in hard cash, while fully nine-tenths of the outstanding indebtedness is amply Becured, taking even present low prices as the standard of value. Foroed economy has prevailed in almost every household, with almost every individual, since the fall of 1873. The great falling off of our foreign imports denotes one phase of this eoonomy. The foreign imports at the port of New York alone fell from $420,385,032 in 1873 to $396,090,852 in 1874, to $367,358,908 in 1875, and to $306,743,366 in 1876, for the fiscal years ending June 30. New York transacted in 1874 fifty-seven per oent. of the foreign oommerco (imports and domestic exports) of the whole country. In three years me imports as mis port uiuue nave declined to the extent of $113,641,666, und a farther decline will undoubtedly be established during the current year. While people have bought sparingly of all descriptions of manufactured^goods the cost of production haa been greatly diminished. The farmer is in want of everything known as "store goods." His crops have been abundant during fciie last four years. The production has been large and a greater area has been planted. The sources of the country's agricultural wealth are rapidly increasing. As a single instance of this increase the corn production of Kansas grew from sixteen millions of bushels in 1874 to eighty millions in 1875. In a word, all these above enumerated facts combined have had the effect of reviving confidence among merchants, manufacturers, builders and traders. The public have come to the conclusion that the period of depression has passed and is about to bo succeeded by a period of activity and prosperity. The rebound will not be sharp or quick, nor should we desire that it should be. With the sarly fall we may confidently look for a very considerable change for the better in all branches of business.?New York Herald. Alas! Poor Child. One ridiculous sight at the Grand CJnion garden party, says a Saratoga letter, -was that of a little three-year-old, who was dressed in a rose colored silk, with a yard of her mamma's point lace flounce for an overdress, and who wore ciny white gloves, pearl fan pendant, pink silk stockings, and with kid boots the same color. Well, this baby started iff well pleased^ to dance with another baby of her own age, but, seeing a companion of the like tender years dancing frith a boy several years her senior, she 5ame down the lawn with her mouth iride open, and her hands spread in 'rantic fashion, screaming vigorously, ind when she reached her anxious nother veiled out with the passion of an mraged child : " I want to dance with a joy ; I won't dance with a girl." Poor ittle thing I That is her beginning of ieoes, for there are numerous maidens ill forlorn who wonld ory aloud if they :ould for masculine partners. Her Heart. She was an angel blonde, and she lipped through the market until she reached a stall where a handsome autcher stood.- "Have you a heart?" 'he said, blushing timidly. " Have I a ieart, miss?" responded the butcher. "Do you think that I can watch you lay after day and see your eyes droop is they meet mine?that I can feel your relvet breath upon my oheek as I stoop io servo you?and not have a heart? .\h, maiden, I am all heart, and you ask me have I one?" "Yes," she sighed, faintly, " this is beautiful, this is divine, but it ain't the kind I want this morning, jo give me a bullock's heart, quick, and brim it for stuffing, for my old man is ifter his dinner." A Brave Officer. During one of the expeditions into the Caucasus Ignatieff ordered a battery of artillery under a captain named Ser[jueieff to shell a column of the enemy kVint thrantanAri ftr? nntflftnlt Viifl fnrrwL The order was obeyed, but the sheila did not explode, and produoed no more Bffect than round shot. Ignatieff galloped to the battery and addressed the captain in language rt?her more vigorous than complimentary. He calmly lifted a shell in one hand and applied a portfire to the fuse with the other ; then remarked to the general: "As you 3ee, general, the powder is bad." The general sprung from his horse and embraoed him, crying : "Sergueieff, my Ban, ypu are braver than L" 1 I CENTENNIAL CORRESPONDENCE. Outside Dlinpo'ntmeDti ? Reasonable Charges- -Outside Shows ?- Eating Places?The British Department. OUTSIDE MISOAI1OUI1ATION8. The Centennial Exposition has proved a sad disappointment to the proprietors of hotels, restaurants, eating nouses and saloons outside the Exhibition grounds. The large hotels in the immediate vicinity have a great many vacant rooms, and the desolate or half occupied buildings for long distances in every direction with the sign "To Bent," or "For Sale," are the evidenoes of disappointed hopes. Most of these proprietors will lose their investments, and many of them go into bankruptcy. They evidently misapprehend the number and the money spending disposition of the Centennial visitors. CHABGES NOT EXORBITANT. P^tvunfinti mav Via 1UUCH3 VIOXUU^ VUJJ *'' ?j " M?y ?r? assured that good, comfortable board may be obtained in private families at $7 or $8 a week, and that owing to the general disposition of householders to accommodate visitors from abroad at a low rate, the old established hotels have not been crowded. People can board here as oheaply as in any first* olass city in the Union; so that none need ttay away for fear of exorbitant ohnrges. THE OUTSIDE SHOWS, whose name was legion, have fared worse than the restaurants and saloons. The Centennial itself so eclipses all other shows that 1:0 sensible persons stop to look at them, and most of them have folded up their tents and deputed. An/1 an a arnrul rlintiflr mil be had in the Main buildingand on the grounds for fifty cents- justwhat they would have to pay for readmission if they left the grounds?all who have not passes, and most of those who have, take their dinners inside. , , . EATING PLACES. Ample provision has been made for feeding all visitors inside the Centennial grounds, under regulations of the Centennial commissioners, at reasonable rates. There are two classes of restaurants?those who give hot dinners at fix ed prices, meats, vegetaoies ana oreaa and butter at fifty cents, as well as lunches; and those on the lonch or Europeon plan only, where yon select what yoa wish from a bill of fare, and pay only for what yon order. And right here, let me say, yon can dine cheaply and well at the best restaurants, if yoa only know how to make your order. The best restaurants in these grounds give better fare for the same price than you get at any first-class hotel; for they give you for a single order meat enough and vegetables enough for two persons. Now, if there are two to dine, and they can agree as to what meats, vegetables, etc., they will have, let one order meats and the other vegetables, and they will hftvo an abnndant dinner at a 'moderate price. THE BRITISH DEPARTMENT in the Main building deservedly holds the post of honor, and occupies a very large space between the middle portion of the center aisle and the north side of the building. It surpasses all other nationalities, both in the extent and excellence of its display, and is a most attractive exhibition in itself. . * ! I ''/ ' . TEE BRITISH COMMISSION HOUSE ' on St. George's hill, after the style, I should judge, of a country gentleman's house in the time of Henry the Ylllth, with its thick walls rendering the rooms cool in summer and warm in winter, and the furnishing, even to the stoves, ranges and fire grates, qs also the wrought iron garden seats, chairs and tables, brought from England, are good samples of the solidity, idea of comfort, ond nuwl tanto of OUT trflTlH gWU OOJUOV MUU _ ___ Atlantic cousins. THE HACTTFAOTUBHBS are chiefly represented, a few large dealers only having notable exhibits. And remarkable as is the display of British manufacturers, it would have been far larger, bat for almost prohibitory tariff which makes it impossible for many classes of manufacturers to sell their goods in this country. The display of china, glass and stone ware, pottery, and terra c?tta, and of silver, and electro plating, is remarkable, and represents the beat makers in the United Kingdom. The Bame may be said of furniture, microscopes, and philosophical instruments. On the north side of the center aisle, near the grand concert stand, is an ex hibition, as unique as it is beautiful, deserving of more than a passing notice. There is nothing resembling it in the whole Exhibition, and it shows how the plastic hand of art can transform the rudest materials into the highest forms of beauty. It is a lawn pavilion, in cast iron, of Japanese style, designed by Thomas Jeckyll, Esq., of London, and the decorations by the well known American colorist, Mr. Whistler. It is thirty-five feet by eighteen, and thirtyfive feet high, contains two stories, with balcony in upper story, supported by iron oolumns, transom bars, brackets, surrounded by wrought iron railings of exquisite workmanship, ornamented with a great variety of flowers, flying birds, butterflies, bees, fish, etc., in the ofiria nt orf Within are beauti uigucov ovjxxj v* w*?i ?? fol specimen of wrought iron work, toilet tables, gates, fire grates, stovee, etc., like those in the British commission house, and a statue, in plaster, of Thomas Oarlyle. Messrs. Barnard, Bishop t Barnards, of Norfolk Iron Works, Norwich, England, have a continental reputation for making such goods. Also wire nettings harness fittings, lawn mowers, garden chairs, rollers, etc., exhibited in Agricultural and Horticultural halls. S.M.B. An Indian Toilet No dandy of civilization is more fastidious in regard to his " make up" than a young warrior, or " buck," as he is called on the plains, whether in preparing for the warpath, a big feast, or an important oouncil. The work of the toilet of an Indian warrior is always performed by the squaw, who takes great pride in adorning the person of her owe particular "brave " in the highest style of savage art. Generally the first stage of the proceeding is the painting of the f?ce. This is an affair of the greatest importance. In winter, black appears to be the favorite color; in summer, reds and yellows are regarded as the fashionable fin to Paint ft rinnhle tmrDOSe in an Indian toilet; while it adorns the face, it covers up tho accumulated dirt, and saves the disagreeable necessity of washing. As a rule, Indiaus have an instinctive dislike to water, either as a beverage or for washing, and thus their faces are covered with alternate layers or orusts of dirt and paint. They say the paint preserves the skin, and keeps it from peeling off. The colors are kept in receptacles of horn, curiously carved and otherwise decorated, and they are always hung, ready for use, in every tent or lodge. The manner of deooration varies, of course, with individual taste. For the mere purpose of preserving the skin, a general wash of black in winter and vermilion in summer will serve; but on extraordinary occasions the face is generally streaked with dashes of different colors, which is supposed to have a very fine effect. Items or interest. If every would only take the advice he gives to other people he would be happy. A recent fancy makes earrings of black velvet and watered ribbon, held in place by small buckles. What love is. If thon wonldat be taught, Thy heart most teach aloneTwo souls with bot a single thought, . Two hearts that beat as one. A Chicago liveryman secures the patronage of lovers by having the seats of his vehicles made rather small for two persons. Iowa juries hold that in case a marriage engagement is broken the parties must return all presents, 01 their worth in money. Two Chinamen, oonvicted of robbery in Sacramento, offered to provide substitutes to endure the punishment, as is the custom in their own country. At a brewery in Cumberland, Md., there is a deer which eats with gusto any quantity of cigars and smoking tobacco -"'"on ViifYi oti/1 Joli/?Vif.a in lgcrnc hnv giTCU il?M| **** V MVJQIU'l W0WO >vwa a When the war of the Revolution began there was bat one man in Massachusetts who was worth more than $80,000; there are now forty-five worth more than a million. Sealing wax is no wax at all; nor does it oontains a single particle of wax. It is made of shellac, Venice turpentine and cinnabar. Cinnabar gives it the deep red color, and turpentine renders the shellac soft and less brittle. When a Delaware radian woman's house near Gana river, Indian Territory, was surrounded by th^iate flood, she tied two children to hef jN^tewd from . ^ her housetop monntecfr %?&'-{ When .(vJ&?jr i- -t V thL. HaA tiov&mB ouii ui roouu ux uw ?< ."iittvn babies to the limbs fiinj l|pfygii m . A circus wagon oonfcaining 'sfea lions was backed into Lake WfiUMNgb, Wis., to give the animals watarA sudden- ly the doors flew open HfltTB'lnnii ??3 oaped. As one of thisfe" Tafev bythia time a litter of young ooc ' that a colony of theaafeu ii! np in the lake. A man in Boone qp^B-, I . weary of his wife's absigp her mother-in-law, and' bi return by having a photo > house taken with himsptf' bor's wife standing on lfl?: i Ju he sent to his better half turned by the first traiijyg t little fonr-year-old the el en metio was astonished by and propounding the fdZItt . ' ? Mamma, if you had Ale T and each butterfly had A bi bow manv butterflies m The mother is etili ijlfo; iSfg A correspondent waato best Tray to preserve ctar Norwich, the Bulletin flttta > ? SM climb the trees with a Mb and ?tay there till morhi) 1 way is to carry the tr^e i every night at sunset; way, however, is to ea$ th ' fore they are ripe. This is how Elder Hk fineohronio rheumatism .' vv two quarts of carpet tackfljla jump bare legged into *Jm beer bottles, let a swarmo nets roost on your head, and then roll ont into a bed of fishhooks, and you'll get a faint idea of the a tan mi S6HS&tion of a first-class rheumatism- -when it gets hold of you and UMtitttaftjiness. The New England and &3ddle States yearly pay a profit of onjcft rtfllion and n half of dollars to States Post-Office department.' Tnj875 they paid in as an exoess of receipts over ex-. * /a penditures $1,665,168.42. The single State of New York showed a surplus of earnings of 8832,022 86, and Pennsylvania cleared $878,527.82 for the government. Alaska cleared $64.41, and..that was the only instance outside of the New England and Middle States where the running expenses of the postal service were not in excess of its receipts. A Few Hints. J Three-fourths of a cubic foot of water evaporated per hour will prodnoe one horse power. Cold blast iron is stronger than hot blast. Annealing oast iron diminishes its tensile strength. The safe load in tons which an iron chain will withstand equals the square of the diameter divided Dy nine. Laths are one and one-fourth to one and one-half inches by four feet in length, are usually set one-fourth of an inch apart, and a bundle oontains one hundred. Two hundred and seventy eubic feet of new meadow hay and 216 and 243 feet from large or red stacks will weigh a ton; 297 to 321 cubic feet of dry clover will weigh a ton. A mixture of nine parts phosphate of soda, six parts nitrate of ammonia, and four parts dilute nitric acid is a freezing compound which will cause atau in temperature of seventy-one deg. Fah. A tarred rope is about one-fourth weaker than untarred white rope. Tarred hemp and manilla ropes are of about equal strength. Wire rope of the same strength as new hemp rope will ran on the same sized sheaves; but the greater the diameter of the latter, the longer it will wear. One wire rope will usually outlast three hemp ropes. Running wire rope needs no protection; standing rigging should be kept well painted tarred. Striking a Clock. George HI., of England, was extremely punctual, and expected punctuality from every one. Lord H. was the most punctual nn who attended on his majesty. He an appointment one day with the king at Windsor at twelve o'clock. On passing through the hall 11? ni^r,Av fwaivA nn which his I/UtJ UlUUa Ob; uvu tnwovf lordship, in his rage at being half a minute late, raised his cane and broke the glass of the clock. The king reminded him that he was a little beyond his time, which he excnsed as well as ho could. At the next audience the king, as bettered the room, exclaimed: " H., how came you to strike the clock?" " The clook struck first, your majesty." The king laughed heartily at the grave manner in which Lord H. justified him-; self, the mock solemnity of the answer adding zest to the bon mot. From "Wheat to Bread. . A trial -was made at the Moss Greek I mills, near Carroll ton, Mo., to ascertain the time in which bread could be msda from wheat standing in the field, and with the following astonishing result, commencing at ono minute after three " ' " tnrolvA minutes o'clocfc, ana nmsuuig <a? after three : Commenced reaping wheat. 8.01 Finisned reaping wheat 8.02 Commenced thraahing wheat 3 02 Finished thraahing wheat (J bushel)? 8.08; Commenced grinding wheat 8 0$ Finished grinding wheat 8.06 Mrs. Lawton oommenced making bread.. S.08 Finished making bread 8.0& Commenced baking bread 8.0& Finished baking griddle cakee 3.09 Finished baking biacuita 8,12 This is an achievement in bread making equal to the best time of Goldsmith Maid or Smuggler on the turf.