The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, December 13, 1876, Image 1
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THE ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER.
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BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBEK 13, 1876. VOLUME XXIV.?NO. 36. ?
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The Absent Oue.
Oh, silence of the niglu, whoso voice alone is
Hweet,
WLei? Lers is lost to m*?
Mysterious ray that falls about tbo mossy
feet
Of yonder shading treeTell
me if that hor eyo, when othors soundly
sleep,
Rekindles soft its snn,
And if my darling fiieud, while I my vigil
keep,
Recalls the ahtent one!
Wben in the blue aloft the moou floods with
her light
The forest and the sky?
What time the bells that to the vesper prayer
invite,
Chime and vibrate and dieTell
me if that her sonl to their sweet harmony
Responds in unison,
And if to her that chime of peaceful melody
" Recalls the absent one!
JOHN'S PROMISE.
Ail Incident of Western Pioneer Life.
Sumner was a mushroom city which
had sprung up on the bauks of a ravine
that cut through the western bluffs of
the Missouri. In a thicket of oak sap-,
lings high up on tlie nide of one of
' Ihof-e bluffs, etooil a hastily built house,
aided with rough, upright oottonwood
boards, a rubty Btovepipe sticking
through the roof; a small window, curtained
by a soollop edged newspaper;
and a white door taken from a sunken
lAA~.kr.ni mVtACA YIISKAIV* finieVlO/^ VNu Y~1 ill D
fcj Of & Hi LTV/AC) WUUOD UlVQiJ uutouvu ^/uulio
contrasted strangely with its surroundings,
completing the exterior.
One pleasant May evening, ju?t as
the shrill whistle of a steamboat echoed
among the hills, this door was opened
by a pleasant young woman, who was
followed by a ciyiDg child.
"Ob, Sammy, quit your noise; that's
pappy's little man; see the great boat
'way yonder ; " lifting him up; " don't
you see? look right sharp now, close
ag'in' the bank. Does Sammy want to
go down town and see the big boat, and
see pappy?" The willing feet toddled
down the path; but the mother called:
"Wait a bit, and mammy '11 pack
Sammy;" and, tying on a pink sunbonnet,
she took him in her arms and started
down tbe steep, crooked path.
She reached the steep main street to
* ? /in - 3 ?:ai- n.^4. i
ana ir mieu wim waguus mtu u?a uccu
turned crosswise of the street, to rest
the te :ms. But, edging her way close
to the clay bank, she reached the river
just as the 6teamer was leaving the
wharf. The srorting of the engine and
the shouting of the deck hands, together
with the puffiing of the mill near by,
was too much for baby bravery, and
Sammy's lip begun to quiver. Catching
him in her arms, his mother sat
down on a sawlog, saying : "There,
there, honey, don't be afeared, be
pappy's man, now."
The tide waves of the receding boat
6unk lower and lower on the sand; the
gay crowds that leaned over the guards
* grew indistinct, and she peered more
and more eagerly in among the tall cott-onwood
trees on the opposite shore. At
length four men came out of the woods,
and, entering a skiff, started across the
river. She watched the skiff anxiously,
for it frequently disappeared between
the waves which were raised by the
strong south wind.
Four rough looking men, in red
woolen shirts?for lumbermen aid not
pretend to wear coats, except in the
coldest weather?jumped out of the
skiff, and, with boisterous laughter and
rude jests, entered the mill. Presently
one of them spies her and came toward
her saying, boisterously :
" Hoorah for you, Nancy ! Whatever
brongM you'un down 'ere this time
of evenin'! Mighty fine doin's, when
you oughter be to home gettin' your
old roan a bite o' supper I Packed that
? A - - Till 1 i. t T> U
young nil aown, ioo, x ji uei. i xvwcuuu
you'd as well get back right quick,
now!" He snatched the bahy from her
and tossed him on his shoulder, shoutiDg:
"Hoorah for pappy's man! ,
Peertest boy in this 'ere town! Mighty
proud to see his pap !" Poor Nancy !
Her husband was drunk again.
She hurried up the street, pinning
her deep sunbonnet more olosely
about her face, that the passers might
not see the tears that would come. He
had kept sober so long that she had
hoped he would come home sober again.
She bad anticipated so much pleasuie
of meeting him, afk. his week's absence.
How often she had thought of
it in those long, lonely'nights, when
sho had only her child and hei thoughts
for company.
It took but a few minutes to put supper
on the table. Ihen she sat down on
the doorstep to watch for her husband,
worrying, all the time lest he lefc something
happen to Sunmy." When at last
ho entile the effects of the liquor were
wearing off, and be ate his supper and
smoked his pipe in sullen silence. She
could not eat a mouthful, but she dared
not let the tears come, for she knew
that it would make him angry. So she
fed Sammy, layiDg her face on his little
h8ad ocoe in i while, to force back the
choking lump that kept rising in her
throat. Then she hastened to rock him
to sleep, lest his fretfulness should disturb
his father.
The first peep of dawn fonnd her ,
busily preparing bre*kfast, for she
knew that John wanted an early start.
The sound of the cofft?emill woke him j
from his heavy sleep, and he lay quiet- i
]y watching her by the light of the dim (
lamp, as she moved onicklv back and i
forth from table to stove ; from thence to 1
the little row of shelves, in lieu of a cup- .
board, setting on the dishes, watching ;
the bacon, and taking the crisp corn
dodger from the ov?n. " She is a dear,
good wife," thought he; " what a scoun ,
drel I was to make her feel so badly."
T - Ua V* rwl Vtiion f a lt/i?
XIO ( Uav uu ua<i n?w? iv/u^u tv utti
t be nifjht before. He wished that ho
could remember what he Kuid. Of
course he never got dead diunk, but ho
wished that he could forever let whisky
alone.
His breakfast, was just to his liking,
and hi^ wife as cheerful as if he was the
1>est iron in the world. Ho wanted to
ray something pleasant to break the
awkward silence, but he did not know
how to begin. He had an uncomfortable
feeling that he ought to beg her
pardon ; but, being a man, of course ho
did not condescend to that. At length
he begun by saying : " You was right
)>eart about your breakfast this morning,
Nancy."
? "Oh, I allowed most likely you'd
want to get off soon," she answered.
" Ten, Jones wants us there ag'in sun?
T * ? 11
up. AIM UUiy U 111 mm ,
we can get it down to Leavenworth ag'in
the night train starts, and I'll get right
on, and be back to Atchison afore day.
Don t catch me foolin' away another
day 'rouiid that old fort."
"Oh, John! I'm so proud!"?she
panned abruptly, for his eyes dropped
with a look of <">jacious shame. What
mood was he in ? Would it do to speak
then ? He had shoved back from the
table, and there was a eerions, far-away
look in his eyes, but nothing so lien or
forbidding.
She went around, and dropping on
her kueee beside him, slipped her arms
about his neok, Baying : " Oh, John, I
wish you'd promise me you'd never
drink * ay more whisky."
" That'b most too hard on a fellow ;
but I'll promise not to?not drink too
much ag'in," he answered.
" But I'm aftard that wouldn't do any
good."
" You talk like you thought I hadn't
House enough to stop when I've got
enough, if I try," he exclaimed.
14 Oh, John, don't talk so ; you know
you promised me that nigh onto a year
t'go ; but you think you'll just take one
dram, and then just one more, and
afore you know it, it's too much. If
you'd only promise me now that you'd
never taste nary drop ag'in."
Still he kept his eyes steadily turned
away from hers.
" Don't you mind, now," she went
on, "how your mother said one time:
* I reckon, Nancy, you count John a
mighty rough chap, but he's all right at
tho core' ? aud don't you mind how she
used to pray for you in them old times ?
Don't you mind tho evenin' we heard
her prayin' down by the old spring?
If bhe's watching you among the stars,
how proud she'd be to hear you promise.
And John," she continued, dropxai'aa
n ' T TlT*QX7
UC1 VU1V.C IU C9 tt uioyv.JL j A |
too, sometimes. I have never told you,
but I've been feeling right serious here
of late. I've taken to readin' my Bible,
and I've just made up my mind to live
better'n 1 used to; and pray for you, too,
and it seems like God hears me." And
she laid her head on his shoulder to hide
her tears.
His arms slipped around her, but he
still kept his eyes turned stubbornly
away from hers. At last, laying his face
against hers, he spoke earnestly : " Yes,
Nancy, I promise."
Pr<iFently, startincr up, he exclaimed:
"If I haven't stayed till plum daylight!"
" Oh, John ! come and kiss baby afore
you go, he looks so sweet. Sammy !
Sammy! wake up, honey, and kiss
pappy I"
" Bless his sleepy eyes ! Pappy's
little man ! I'll bring him some candy
when I come home ag'in."
All day Nancy went about with such a
light, cheery heart as she had not carried
in her bosom for many a day ; singing
snatches of old hymns, and thinking
happy, hopeful thoughts of him who,
ail those long hours, was working his
milder n en in fit, tho stronir current of the
Missouri.
That evening the stars shone brightly
down upon her, when she kaelt by the
little window, and asked God's blessing
on her husband and his good resolu- 1
tions.
But she was awakened, a few hours 1
afterward, by a rush and confusion, a
shower of glass and hail across her bed ; ]
and, catching her baby in her arms, she 1
sprung up, frightened and bewildered. 1
It was a terrible storm ; one long to be \
remembered by all who felt its terrors. '
The deafening roar of the wind and hail ]
almost drowned the loud thunder. A '
blinding flash of lightning showed the i
trees almost bent to the ground, and '
the house rocked to and fro like a
cradle. (
She suddenly felt a new, strange feel- '
ing, as if she was flying, floating,
through the air. She thought that she (
wat, dizzy, and caught hold of the bed. J
A terrible crash?she never knew how
it all happened! Her baby's ories
aronsetl Her. rue winu ana rain cuuiea
her tbrongb. She started to spring up,
but something held her down. A shock
of pain darted over her, and, putting
out her hand, she felt a great beam
lying heavily across her limbs. It
seemed as though it was crushing her.
Something struok her, then another,
and another. How they stung ? Oh !
was her child unsheltered from that pitiless
storm ? His screams grew louder.
Oh! she must reach him I She could
see nothing throngh the thick darkness,
but she knew that he was not far off
What if he, too, was fastened, crippled !
She stretched her arms ; every movement
made her pain more excruciating.
She strained every Tiwrve, she could almost
reach him. What if he was free
una couia come to ner f -un, oammy i
Sfimmy!" she called, "cometo mammy." 1
The child ceased orying. She heard
him move. His warm body touched
her hands, that were groping in the
darkness. She caught him in her arms
and hugged him to her breast. She felt
of his head, his arma, his feet; sound
and whole. How thankful she was for
that. But how those cruel nailstones
must have bruised him. She rested
him on the ground and crouched over
him; she could move just enough for
that. The frightened child ceased crying,
and put his arms about her neck,
[f she could only find something to
cover them from the storm. She reaohed
around, but could touch only cold mud.
Oh ! that terrible pain ! She had a!- :
most forgotten it in her anxiety for her
child. It grew more and more intolerable.
It seemod as though the hailstones
struck through into her brain.
TX7V*nf if fl.ar lrillrkrl lier f Wqq i
afraid to die? Visions of eternity, of
the heaven of her faith, rose before her.
Should she dwell with God and the
angels forever? Was it possible that
there would never be an end ? No? f-he
was not afraid of death. Bat her child, '
her husband?how could she leave
them ? Not yet! No, no, when life
opened before her I She must live to
help John keep his promise. God
would spare her for that. How long '
would it bo until morning ? How could
she bear the pain so long? Oh, it J
would be terrible if John should come ,
and find her lying there, cold and stiff. '
John did love her, oh! so well. He j
bad loved her so long. It seemed so
many years since he first told her that '
he loved her ; it was on the mountain
side, in de;u: old Tennessee. How far j
iway it seemed. How the sun shone ,
and the bi~ds suns:. How dreamy and .
bewildered her thonghts were. How 1
still the baby was. Yes, she could feel ,
hin Imnrf liftxf, Hlin nn lmttrpr felt f.hfl
pelting of the storm ; hail it ceased? '
Her thought wan answered by ft rush of
wind from a new direction. Sho felt j
the great weight lifting oil from her.
She was free. Then?something struck J
her.
******* '
The train went snorting into Winthrop '
just at daylight. John jumped off, and !
was the first to reach the ferry. He '
had never seen Atchison so quiet. With j
the exception of those who had crossed
on the ferry, and a few early risers who 1
were hurrying up the street, the town J
seemed asleep ; but as he passed up the
street he saw a man who was riding a '
mulo coming down in great haste, who
cried out: " How d'ye, John ?,:
"Why, Jake!" he replied, "is that \
you? 1 allowed you was half way to
Denver afore now."
"We started yesterday, but we had '
a powerful storm on the prairie out :
here la^t night. We chanced to be
right near to a house and they let us in;
but it sent our old wagons rolling over
and over across the prairie, and our oxen
all stampeded: I'm on the hunt of them
I)
now.
" It don't look like it had reached
Atchison." i
"No; I reckon it just took a streak."
John hurried on down the river. The
road ran bo near the bank that the steady
swash of the water seemed under his
feet. The birds were singing in the
trees, acd the sunshine came creeping
down the bluffs overhead. How eager
he was to get home that morning. His
heart was full of new plans and new
purposes. He could keep his promise,
and he would; he would never make
Nancy's heart ache again by breaking
that promise. He stopped aaddenly?
had the storm reached Sumner ? The
tall buildings along the wharf were
leaning roofless, one this way, another
that, as if the wind, coming over the
bluffs, had reached just low enough to
unroof them. He hastened around the
foot of the hill; there lay the briok
hotel, the boast of the town, in scattered
fragments on the ground, like a
wasps' nest scattered by the housekeeper's
broom. He looked around;
three-fourths of the town lay in ruins.
How was it with his home ? He ran up
the street until he could see where it
stood. Gone I Not a vestige of it left.
And his family ? Perhaps they had escaped
before the storm; perhaps.
Scarce knowing what he did, he hurried
to the nearest house that was yet standing,
and without ceremony opened the
door. There was no one in the room,
but on a couch in one corner a white
sheet "sunk to the still proportions" of
two silent forms. Moved by some
strange impulse, he turned back the
covering that shrouded the faoes?
Nancy and the baby !
Shocked, stunned, he Bunk on his
knees and laid his face on that dear
form. Who can describe, who can com
prehend, the utter desolation of that
hour ? None but those who have felt
it. Oh, the thoughts and memories
that crowded upon him?many of them
bitter, regretful thoughts. But there
was one memory for which he was thankful:
that he had not listened to the
tempter which whispered to him yestermorn,
that it would be weak and unmanly
to yield to her request.
They found him there an hour afterward,
but he asked no questions, made
no reply to their attemptsat consolation,
and they left him alone with his dead.
Cost of Making a President
"The American people," said an
English writer on our politics, " is perpetually
voting for some election or
other." Somebody, it might be added,
has to bear the expense of these perpetual
elections. Just what the expense
is, in a general canvass like that which
has just drawn to a close, it is difficult
to estimate with any approach to accuracy
; lor there are no statistics ex
* -a a xi 1
tant upon tne suojeci, ana me puimuiuutt
who plan and conduct campaigns are
naturally reticent upon such matters.
It is plain, however, that there must bo
a heavy outlay of money. The printing
and distribution of campaign documents,
the rental of public halls, the pay of
stump speakers, the purchase of banners,
torches, uniforms and other paraphernalia
; the expense of postage and
telegraphing?all these are necessary
outlays, and when the extent to which
they are carried throughout the oountry
is borne in mind it becomes very apparent
that the aggregate must be enormous.
A paragraph has lately been going
the rounds of the press, to the
Bffect that the strenuous campaign in
' - A A- 1U.
Indiana preparatory iu wc icucuu uuno
election consumed ten million dollars.This
is, of course, wild exaggeration,
based upon a mere random guess. An
ef-timate that seems to us not far from
the truth places the average coat of a
Presidential election at about one million
five hundred thousand dollars for
each of the great opposing parties, or a
total of three million dollars. Accepting
this as within the bounds of prob
ability, it would seem that the expense
of putting a President into the Whito
House is fifteen times greater tbau the
whole amount of salary paid to the incumbent
during his term of four years.
Calling the population of tho country
about forty millions this would be
equivalent to a tax of seven and one
half cents a head for every man, woman
and child in the United States. The
maintenance of the court of France for
the first year of the second empire was
less than two cents per head of tbe population.
It appears that the cost of
makiDg a President may be greater than
that of keeping a prince.
Tlio expense of our elections, however,
are borne mainly by voluntary
contribution. The burden falls chiefly
on wealthy partisans who expect to
share in some way the benefits ensuing
from the election of their candidate. It
takes the form of a tax only in the case
of offioe holders, who are assessed for
flection expenses by the party in power.
The burden touches tbe people remotely
and indirectly, if at all. while in
reality they derive an actual and immediate
benefit. The various devices
by which their sympathy and support
itre solicited awaken a more active interest
in publio aflcirs, and the masses
thereby acquire the rudiments of political
education, instead of remaining in
apathy and ignorance of tbe condition
i>i lue country ana mo uamiuiHtrouuu ui
tho government. Great as the costs of
our elections may be, they cannot bo
lamented as an unmitigated burden upon
the people.?New York Herald.
A. Town Inundated.
Managua, tho capital of Nicaragua,
was inundated on the night of the third
and the morning of the fourth of October.
On the third of October dark
ulouds begun to gather over the doomed
oity, followed by a furious wind, accompanied
by a deluge of rain. Toward the
dawn of tho fourth the downpour begun
to abate, and there was some prospect
df its cessation; but at about eight a. m.
the rain recommenced, without causing
much alarm at first; but suddenly, from
the direction of the Sierras, a dull, rumbling
sound was heard, approaching
avery moment nearer, till at last an overwhelming
flood of muddy waters, sweeping
along in their headlong course great
trees and masses of rock, burst upon
she hapless city, penetrating into its
inmost recesses.
Tho people of the city were at breakfast
when the flood burst in upon them,
rising almost instantaneou ly to a height
:>f ono or two yards in the houses. Don
Floi encio Arce, a comfortable merchant,
tried to save his daughter, who was ill.
Se rau to the yard, but stuck faat in the
oaud; a wall fed and killed him on the
*pot, breaking both the legs of his
laughter, who was rescued with great
rltffi/niHp Vvtif tlio iliml Tim ttnfo r\f
iliiUi.lUVJ) UUU fUU UiVU. AJUW TV AAV v*
Don Jesus Trinidad, another well-to-do
merchant, trusted her life to a rope that
bad been tied across the street. But the
rcpe gave \vny, and she was swept off by
the flood, drowned before the eyes of
her own husband and sons, who were
helpless to save her.
On the morningof the fiflhof October
the flood had subsided, and the streets
of Managua were once more, though not
withont some dancer. rmsRn.hlR. The
victims are six men and women, and fire
or six children in tho city, and seven big
and little of both sexes in tho Sierras.
A Wonderful Horse.
Startle, one of Robort Bonner's
horses, recently trotted a quarter of a
mile in thirty-two and one-half seconds.
A noted horseman who witnessed tho
feat Bays: When all the facts are considered,
the performance was certainly
the most wonderful ever made. Startle
accomplished the feat so easily, and finished
so well within himself, that I was
convinced that, great as was the performance,
he was capable of readily accomplishing
a still greater. Startle, in
his physical conformation, is a marvel
of power, and the fact that a horse of
his size could draw a wagon a 2:10 gait
under such unfavorable circumstances,
and without any special preparation,
stamps him as the most wonderful horse
of the age.
THE HORRORS OF WAR.
The Battle of DJddU--3,000 Serrtana Dt>aerted?How
the Wounded Prlaonen
Were Treated.
A correspondent of the Londoi? Telegraph
writes: Thus they came on, and
presently opened so fearful a rifle fire
that the bullets fell around us all like
hail. As yet our infantry were quiet;
not a rifle was heard, and the foe was
coming nearer to the semi-circular
trenohes of whioh I have before spoken.
Suddenly there is a movement in the
bushes, a sharp note from the bugle, a
rattle of bayonets and steel barrels, and
then a little cheer. Our men are moving,
the supports are taking the empty
trenches, and the rest of each battalion
is in the reserve lines. All at once suoh
a fire pours forth as envelops you in
smoke, and makes that still advancing
column stagger. Yet only for a minute;
there is a counter cheer and a rapid
rush. Whirr ! how the bullets fly past
them; with what shrieks do :he shells
bound in 1 See, the Servians are stand-!- ?
t? x a~?
BbllJL lur H lilUUlUlibj Uiii-Jg JCV| uuu
coming no nearer to the mountain.
Their line is gradually being fed, too,
and they are extending eveiy moment
It is only the fear of the shells and the
bullets which makes them hesitate.
Perhaps not only the fear, but rather
the effect, for now they are falling fast,
and without the aid even of a glass we
can see that they are strewing the
ground by hundreds or staggering away
to die. Harder than ever is our fire, as
theirs weakens, and more determined,
too, are our men, for they now quit the
outpost trenches and are advancing upon
tho bewildered enemy. Volley after
volley from the foe fails to stop them;
they leave many a comrade on the
ground, but on they go, till at length
the Servians, seeing their red fezes coming
nearer and nearer, turn and fly, deserting
3,000 of their number, who will
never see home in Russia or on tho
banks of the Danube any more. * * *
Not one was there but might have been
the hardy father of a numerous family.
I did not see a boy among them. One
is imrticnlar I noticed?and he was but
a type of the rest?a tall, well made,
broad shouldered warrior, who, having
fought to his uttermost and received a
wound in the stomach, had lain down
upon the road to Derbent in hope of
succor. Unhappily for him, friends
were far away, and his comrades had
hung in fantastio fashion, on a tree hard
by, a Circassian, who, having fallen into
their hands, had been first tortured and
put to death. I was looking at him as I
rode by, wondering n ne were yet anve,
when, horrible to relate, there came
upon the scene fonr Ghirkesaoes. They,
too, had seen their hanging comrade,
and they thirsted for blood. At this
moment the wounded Servian raised
his head and rolled his glassy eyes round
in hope of descrying help. Down sprang
a Circassian, and with a little dagger
pierced the dying man through and
through, cut off his right hand, and
ripped him up as he lay upon the
ground. Fortunately his end was near,
and he expired; but even in death he
was a handsome giant, this victim to the
barbarous war which Russia has caused
and waged.
Desecration of Lincoln's Tomb.
The attempted desecration of the tomb
of the late President Lincoln is one of
those stories whioh would seem to belong
to imaginative rather than real crime. It
is difficult to believe that even the worst
of criminals would plan and endeavor to
execute such a project. Had it succeeded
the whole world would have regarded
it with horror, and we may well
believe that the expectation of a ransom
with which the criiao was planned would
have led to the final detection of the
criminals, even if they had succeeded in
concealing their purj-ote until its accom
plishment. The later developments in
regard to the attempted desecration,
says a letter from Spiingfield, 111., shows
that it was the consummation of a most1
determined and deep laid conspiracy, in j
which no novices in the criminal art :
??- ?/?. of I
were eilgtiguu* j uo ww^iuiuuikj nuu ?v
first eo horrifiod by the discovery of the
midnight attempt that they hastily jumped
to a conolusior. that something of
either political or QCttional significance
attached to tho crime ; but it i3 now definitely
known that the sole motive or
object was tho obtaining of a great ranson
for restitution of the remains. The
Lincoln Monument Association, composed
of leading citizens of tho State,
have rained a large amount of money
and erected a splendid monument which,
with its fine surroundings, is the point
of interest to all visitors hero. It was
conjectured by the would-be robbers
that the association, the citizens of
Springfield and the people of Illinois, as
ot the Union, would pay an immense
sum to recover the body. It was to be
another " Charley Ross" outrage, with
much larger possibilities in the way of
rewards.
Ex-Chief Elmer Washburn was called
in to aid in the capture, which would
have been complete, with conclusive
evidence, while all were in the crypt,
but for an unfortunate accident. As
the deteotivea emerged from their hiding
place, one hundred feet from the vault
entrance, one of them in examining his
pistol accidentally discharged it. The
robbers instantly fled and disappeared
in the wood, which is bufc a few rods
distant. The names of the parties engaged
are all withheld by the officers,
who say they can be had when wanted,
but thev are alleged to bo among tho
shrewdest managers of gigantic orimes |
on this side of tho water. The first inkling
of the affair was known in Jnne last,
the details having been overheard in a
honse in a Northern city, and wa3 soon
reported to parties interested he^g.
Since that time Robert Lincoln and
Hon. Leonard Swett, of Chicago, have
constantly been on the alert, and by
means of several fortuitous circumstances
were able to prevent what certainly
would have been a most horrible
sacrilege. The monument is now closely
guarded. _
Did She Mistake.
She led Lim to a sofa, and in a deep
bass voico called him her soul's idol, and
inquired what his monthly income was.
Seeing his gaze fixed on her boa constrictor-like
mouth, sho remarked :
" DarliDg, I see you notice my largo and
beautiful potato trap; let me explain to
you the reason of its unusual size.
When I was quite a child I was playing
on pappy's cellar door; it gave way; I
was precipitated down into tho basement,
and caught by the mouth on a
projecting meat hook, whioh ripped up
my face and extended my mouth several
inches." With his eyes full of sympathetic
tears he rose from tho sofa, and I
replied, as ho made toward tl'e door : |
" My angel, you are perhaps mistaken, j
Probably, in the exoitement of that awful J
moment, you l?ft your mouth down in i
the basement, and accidentally brought j
np tho cellar. We shall meet again in a
better world. Adieu."
Stopped Fooling.?At tho opera house
in Cincinnati, odo of the attendants at
a menagerie plaj ed a trick upon the elephant.
' He offered the animal a quid of
tobacco, which was thankfully received.
Within a quarter of an hour tho young
geutleman fell a victim to retributive
justice. While he was standing in the
oenter of a small group the elephant's
trunk wound alnrat him and kissed him
into the air. i
Tweed as a Fireman.
It is known that Wm. M. Tweed,
whose case is now attracting so muoh
attention, commenced his politioal
career in New York as foreman of a fire
company. "Big Six " was the name of
the company aud " Big Six " has been
attached to Tweed's name ever sinoe. A
New York paper gives some incidents of
this company, and of Tweed's connection
with it. It says : Upon the ooourrence
of the Hague Btreet explosion, at
an early hour in the day, Tweed and his
oompany were among the first to reach
the Boene of the catastrophe, and to them
was oommitted the task of extricating
the living and dead from the rnins.
Faithfully and laboriously did they toil, j
remaining upon the ground all that
day and night until three o'clook in the
morning of the next, while the members
of other companies retired after
several hours of labor.
The term "Big Six," applied to the
j Americus engine, originated from the
I 4-Jmo nf f.VlA rflntCftTllTA.
JLOCb liuai au vuo wiuu v* ?mw -
tion of No. 6 the oity had caused to be I
constructed four e: gines of the Philadelphia
pattern, two of tho largest of
which were assigned to reorgsnized
companies, assuming the prefix "big"
to distinguish them from their predecessors.
Niagara company thus became
known among firemen as "Big Four,"
and Amerious as "Big Six." Jn this
connection it is interesting to note the
gradual and successive ohanges time and
circumstances have wrought in the size
and fashion of the engines used by our
olnnteer fire department during the
last half century of its existence. Originally
companies employed the primitive
style of fire engine, destitute of the
power of suotion, yet furnished with a
"goose neck," whion term denotes a
species of universal joint attached to
the tube ranning down into the air
ohambers, to which joint could be
screwed the discharge pipe, rendering it
capable of being turned in any direction
by the pipeman, who played directly on
the fire from his station on top of the
case containing the air chambers. To
supply water for this machine the citizens
were pressed into service, each
house being by law compelled to keep
hanging in the hall near the street a
number of leathern buckets, inscribed
with the owner's name. Upon an alarm
of fire in the neighborhood, each house'
1 * -li-.ii -1 1 L~
bolder tosseu nia coueouuu ui uuutoia
into the street, to be picked up by passera-by
harrying to the conflagration.
At the fire the bucket holders were
formed into two lines, extending from
the engine to the various town pumps
in the vicinity, the one line to pass the
buckets when filled to the engine, which
had a box at the rear end to reoeive the
water, and the second line to return the
empty ones to the pumpers. After the
fire was extinguished, the buckets were
piled in a huge pyramid in front of the
oity hall, and op the morrow the park
3 :a1- noornli I
swarmed wim uuiuicu dtuvuiu u oviuuu
of the property of their respective masters.
As the fire department had for many
years exercised strong local political in
fluence, and even claimed the office of
register as a reward for the faithful service
of a popular chief engineer, the
foreman of "Big Six " naturally aspired
to municipal representation of the ward
in which ho dwelt. Consequently he
ran for the aldermanship of the Fourth
ward, but was defeated. Chagrined at
this untoward result, the com puny persuaded
their foreman to remove from
Yandewater to Rutgers street, and he
was there placed in nomination for assistant
alderman of the Seventh ward.
His election laid the fonndation of a
prolonged-political career, hia influence
speedily extending over the Congressional
district, proven through his election
as representative over Conrad
Swackhamer, a prominent political leader,
and editor of the Democratic Review.
Only once was he defeated, and
then in a contest for the aldermanship.
The Nail District of Birmingham.
On a murk winter's nigLt, in the
oldej time, when the fires from the
blast furnaoes, and the lurid flames of
some ignited pit mound, were all aglow.
tho mtisio of the nailing hammers of
Birmingham, England, might bo heard
nil the country round. From the little
huts or jhedB, dotted here and there
upon the broken landscape, with an
utter absence of order or convenience,
as though the micrhty geological operations
underneath liad shaken them into
the most unlikely places, the gleam of
the hearth fires would shine from the
open4 shutters, and the merry songs of
the workers, male and female, sung at
the very topmost pitoh of their voices,
might be heard a mile away. Up to ten
or eleven o'clook at night would these
sounds continuo?no unusual circumstance
in a district where labor never
seems to rest, but where the roaring
furnaces and the great rolling wheels go
on unceasingly day and night. Through
the open loophole, the whole art and
mystery of nail making could be witnessed
by any passer-by. The nailer
would have the ends of three or four
rods in the fire, and taking out the one
which had been in longest, after a pull
or two at the bellows to bring it to a
welding heat, he would taper down tho
point upon his anvil, at the Bamo time
making a shoulder for the head. He
would then hold it over a ctasei or outting
punoh, stuok upright at the Bide of
his anvil, and, giving it one tap with his
hammer, cut it halfway through, an
iron stop in front of the punch giving
him the exact guage for the length.
Ho would then turn down the point of
the half-severed nail into a steel instrument
called a bore $he top of which
ormed a mold for the head), and twist
it off, and then, with a few smart blows,
he would beat it down until the head
was spread out sufficiently, and assumed
the required shape, the nail juat turning
from red to black as ho gave it the
finishing tap. As his rods got too short,
he would weld or "shut" two of them
together, and put a new rod in the fire ;
ami so on, with liie regularity 01 ciockwork,
probably, in a thousand nails, not
one varying the number of blows upon
each.
English Statistics.
The returns for 1874 shpw that sixtynine
of the 526,632 persons whose deaths
were registered in England in that year
were itated to be one hundred years
old, or upward. These centenarians
comprised sixteen men and fifty-three
women; and the oldest were six widows,
described as being 104 years old. Of
the fifty-three women all but eight are
registered as being widows. Among the
whole sixty-nine there is only one who
is styled a gentleman; one of the men
is described as a pensioner, one woman
as ail annuitant, and anotiier woman
(one hundred years old) as a " ward in
Ohancery/|
A Bright Omen.
Just as the long procession of people
who had attended the last day of the Exhibition
were slowly and reluctantly
vending their way toward the exit gates
of the Oentennial grounds, the leaden
clouds which had veiled the sky during
the whole of the day were parted in the
west and a glorious glow of sunset
overspread the inclosure. The grand
towers of the Main bnilding were illuminated
with golden light. Auspioious
omen t May it bring in its train all the
bright anticipations whioh it started instinctively
in the minds of those who
beheld it!
The Heat of the gun.
At a meeting of the academy of sciences,
Prof. Rose's naval experiments
were disousaed. A paper was read as
follows : On no one of the unsettled
questions of science is there so wide a
discrepancy as in respect to the values
set on the actual heat of the surface of
the sun. Estimates have been furnished
by Herschel and Secchi that place it at
10,000,000 deg.; by Ericsson at 4,000,000;
and on the other hand, by French
physicists of repute at a point a little
over that of a blast furnace?say 1,500
degrees centigrade. This is a monstrous
discrepancy for skilled experimenters.
The difference in results depends upon
the mode of working the problem, and
the assumption involved. The large
estimates come from following Newton's
law that temperature increases as radiation
does. The smaller estimates come
from applying Dulong and Petit's law,
in which temperature is a function of
radiation; a function that reaches its
nractif-al extreme when it is pushed be
yond a temperature of two thousand degrees.
Strange to say, the direct and simultaneons
comparison of the sun's heat
and that from terrestrial sources has not
yet been made. As an approximate
mode of inquiry, Prof. S. P. Langley
determined to compare the lignt of the
sun with that from the molten iron
poured out of the Bessemer-converter.
The experiments were made at the Edgar
Thomson steel works, where every facility
was given. The galvanometer
could not be used for measuring comparative
heats, because that instrument
is at once affected by the movement of
large masses of iron in its vioinity. The
Ritchie type of photometer was employed;
Prof. Langley described its
construction and merits. In using it
La was placed under great disadvantage
from the continuous changes in the position
of the Bessemer converter. The
heliostat arrangement to give a beam of
the snn for comparison, had to be as
oontinnally shifted; the observer eat on
a window sill in uncomfortable proximity
to the furnace operations. The
details of the experiment need not be
given here. The first conclusion reached
was that the sun's light, which turns the
light from the molten steel into a black
spot, must be at least fifty times the
greater. Then the spectroscope was
employed and the two rays compared.
The steel rays were again blotted out.
Hence the sun's rays must have been at
least sixty-four times brighter. Next
T.on/?lon modo (i/imnnrifinnR of th?
X 1UI. J
enn's rays with those from tho flame
above the converter, when the latter
were at their brightest. This was a less
difBoult proceeding, and.furnished more
specific results. The photometrio comparison
could be made directly. It is
admitted, however, that the flame light
may not be quite so bright as that of the
molten steel. The arrangement was
somewhat like that of a camera obscura.
It gave tho image of the sun so accurately
that sun spots could be easily examined;
it also gave an exact representation
of the furnace flame. Each was
alternately superposed on the other.
The conclusion is that tho sunlight is at
least 2,168 times brighter than the furnace
flame. As the hent is presumably
of tho same relative order, the result Is
adverse to the law of Dulong and Petit.
The actual heat of the sun is probably
among the higher values that have been
suggested.
Novelties in Milliuery.
Qlovo kid is coming into use for bonnets,
says Harper's Bazar. A very few
have been imported, but they are preferred
by Parisiennes to the finest felfe
or even velvet. One of pale rose pink
has the fine rose kid drawn smoothly
over the frame and trimmed -with ostrich
tips and gros grain ol tho same
shade.
The Benoiton, or scarf of silk passed
under the chin, is another novelty. This
is a long width of soft twilled silk,
either cardinal red, oream, or other
shade of tho trimming of the bonnet,
and is in many cases bordered with fur.
It is sewed to the back of the bonnet low
down on the crown, is passed around to
the front, muffling the neck, and is fastened
on the left side. Silver fox fur or
else marabout feathers trim the handsomest
Benoitons. The square figured
basket woven silks are aiso used for this
purpose.
Some of the newest French hats, especially
those of plush or felt, have an
edge of fur that borders the face; gray
and black furs are most used.
White plush, velvet, or soft felt hats
chosen for dress by young ladies who
dress richly. They have broad crowns,
high but not pointed, are very shore behind,
and are trimmed around the crown
" 1 ui?
Willi & pjfUTCU HULTit Jl* UA locc niiiiuniuQ
is dark velvet of some becoming shade,
or else a fringe of ostrich feathers very
mnch curled. The newest French felts
are of the tilleul shade, a greenish cream
tint, trimmed with the samo color, and
contrasted with pale blue or with dark
damask red. Oream colored felts have
cardinal puffings under the brim, with
many upturned loops of ribbon outside;
the ends of the ribbon are also turned
upward, and are cat into five or six sawteeth
points. The pointed Mother
Goose crowns and one sided bonnets
have become so commonly worn that
fashionable milliners are furnishing
their customers with more quiet looking
bonnets with broader crowns, or else
regular capotes. Felt bonnets are very
popular, notwithstanding the outcry
against them made at the beginning of
the season.
The Life of a Reporter.
I reported on a morning newspaper
three years, says Mark Twain, and it
was pretty hard work. But I enjoyed
its attractions. Reporting is the best
school in tho world to get a knowledge
of human beings, human nature and
human ways. A nice, gentlemanly reporter?I
make no differences?is well
treated by everybody. Just tninK. 01 mo
wide range of his acquaintanceship, his
experience of life and society. No other
occupation brings a man into such familiar
social relations with all the grades
and classes of people. The last thing
at night?midnight?he goes browsing
around after items among the police
and jailbirds in the lockup, questioning
the prisoners and making pleasant and
lasting friendships among somn of the
worst people in tho world. And tho
very next ovening he gets himself up regardless
of expense, puts on all the good
clothes his friends iiave got, goes and
takes dinner with the governor or com- i
mander-in-chief of the district, the j
United States senator and some ox the |
upper crust of society. He is on good
terms with all of them, and is present at
every gathering, and has easy acceK3 to
every variety of people. Why, I breakfasted
almost every morning with the
governor, dined with the principal
clergyman and slept in the station
house.
* ?v.oq tn Ha a littlfi. of course.
a. IDJLA^A VSJJL uuu wvr ? ? , ,
or they would discharge him. That
is why I left it. I am different
from Washington. I have a
grander and higheT standard of principle.
Washington could not lie. I can
lie, but I won't. Keporting is fascinating,
but then it is so distressing to have
to lie so. Lying is bad?lying is very
-bad. Every individual knows that by
experience. I think that for a man to
tell a lie?when he cannot make anything
by it?is wrong.
Countlug the Fotes.
In 1865 Congress adopted a joint rule
that if any member of either House
should object to the certificate of the result
of tha Presidential election in any
State, both Houses ehould withdraw and
vote upon the question without delay,
and unless both Houses concurred, the
certificate should be rejected. But this
rule has been repealed, and there is now
no provision for the settlement of such
a question, should it be raised. The resuit
of the present election is so close,
and the probability of some such question
is so evident, that the first duty of
Congress upon re assembling will be to
make provision for the contingency.
The differing political sentiment of the
Houses may make suoh action more difficult,
but it should not seriously embarrass
it. At present, if one House should
protost against the result as declared,
and withdraw, the validity of the election
that might be announced would be
questioned. The Constitution provides
that the president of the Senate shall
open the certificates, count the votes in
the presence of the Senate and the
House, and declare the result. This
seems to imply the assent and acquiescence
of both Houses, and the protest
and non-conourrence of either might
lead to confusion and trouble.
" 1 dMt L_;_i _?*.V,n
xne rrne 01 jlockj uerwuxujr oipo mu
country to some risks. If, for instance,
the result is any election had depended
upon New York, and objection were
made upon the ground of frand, but
really for a mere party purpose, and it
were sustained by a party majority in
either House, the temptation would be
very strong to raise a similar objection
in the other House upon similar, party
grounds, and to sustain it in the same
way and for the same purpose. The re
ception of the whole electoral vote was <
.hus exposed to the whim of party
spirit. It is assumed, however, by our
system of government, that there are i
good sense and patriotism enough in
the American people to curb the perils i
of unbridled party spirit, and the action
of Congress, we have no doubt, will
justify that faith. Some method might
be suggested under which, if objection i
be made to any State return, the ground
should bt stated, and the question referred
to a oommittee of equal numbers <
from both Houses. They should make
a speedy report, and, in case of disagreement,
they might call in the chief
a j or>iitrafnr Th? ^flniainn
should be final. Any plan that could i
be devi ed would be open to objection.
But friotion and inconvenience and compromise
would bo very much better
than any failure to determine.
The problem is not in itself difficult.
Its solution demands only honest patriotism
and loyalty in Congress; and if
they do not exist there, the country is i
much more unfortunate than we believe.
It is foolish for either party to
insist at this time that the other is not
willing to abide by the decision of the
majority. If, for instance, the result of
the election depends upon the vote of
Louisiav.s, the sole question is, For
whom were the majority of the votes in
that State cast ? Fraud can be assumed
upon either side, and the assumption
proves nothing. Tho previous action
of the present returning board has indeed
laid it under suspicion. But a
careful survey of the canvass of votes by
prominent representatives will satisfy
the country. The declarations of the
President were most admirable, and
worthy of the chief magistrate. All that
honorable Republicans and Demoorats
wish to know is the fact as it is.? Har
per'a wee my.
Yankee ys. Jap.
Looking at the pottery in the Japanese
bazaar, says a Centennial letter
writer, I espied a flower pot which
struck my fancy, and I inquired the
price. *
" Four dollaire," was the response of
the youthful Jap.
The price suiting as well as the article,
I determined to take ifc on my way
out, and in the afternoon again approaohed
the bazaar with that object.
This time there was a leathery old Oriental
in attendance, with a face like that
of a wrinkled old monkey, who, being
asked the price, answered :
" Eight dollaire 1"
"No," I said, throwing up four
fingers, " it was four dollars this morning."
The old heathen opened a mouth like
a slit in a side of sole leather, and displaying
a row of yellow fangs, ejaou
IttLCU
"Oh, noa, he is eight dollaire."
As I retreated, I noticed in the little
garden which surrounds the bazaar the
same kind of flower pot, in some of
which were plants, and I tried the custodian
of these, a sober, chestnut complexioned
Jap.
" How much are those?"
" Six dollaire."
Again I explained they were four dollars
in the morning, but was only answered
by a quiet grin, and?
" Six dollaire."
Approaching the bazaar once more, I
waited until the withered old swindler
was called away for a few minutes, and
then hailing the youngest and most
amiable faced Jap 1 could select, I
touched the flower pot and asked :
"How much?"
The yonthfnl son of Japan picked it
up, looked at it, trying to estimate its
valne, and then turning to me said, evidently
at hazard :
" Four dollaire an half."
And I carried it off at the fourth price
at which'it had been offered me during 1
the day.
A French Lore Story.
Marie Gauthier, a rich heiress, befcween
fifteen and sixteen years of age, ,
who lived with her parents at St. Me- ,
dard, was the object of many hopes ,
umong the eligible yonng men of the
neighborhood. In addition to these,
one especially ineligible sighed for the
gilded boauty. His name was Theophile ,
Parceau, his ago eighteen, and his '
parents were humble cultivators of a J
small farm. His education had been j.
good, but feeling that he could not hope I
to obtain the consent of the girl's fath- j
er, he entered his household as a ser- :
vant, with a view of daily being seen
and heard by her. Within a month the
heiress received his declaration and ,
warmly responded to it, and the couple
eloped.
Theophile bad made a confidant of a
young man, Jules Gatinaud, who was
engaged to marry his sister, and seeking
the couple in their retreat, he told them
ihat the police were searching for them,
and that there was no alternative but a
temporary separation. He advised Theophile
to escape, and offered to cany
Mile. Gauthier back to her father.
Theophile acted upon his advice, but ,
Gatinaud, instead of performing his
promise, took the young lady to a wayside
tavern, and thenoe, on tbe next
day, to his father's house, ana requeeiea
the latter to call on Mons. Gauthier and
offer to find his daughter if he would
promise to give heL hand to his son.
But Gauthier refused;
Mile. Gauthier was, however, soon
discovered and taken home. Theophile
was also found, and both he and Gatinaud
were arrested. The parents of
Gatinaud were likewise arrested, but
they were acquitted. Theophile was
condemned to two years' imprisonment,
and Gatinaud to three years, '
On the Situation,
The London limes has a strong proRussian
leading editorial article o \ the
Eastern question. It first notices the
slow progress toward an agreement
abont a conference and its basis, facts
which are clearly not promising for its
success, but declares that the worst symptom
is a disposition to prescribe beforehand
conditions inoompatible with ideas
of negotiation and compromise. It cites
as thus inconsistent with the idea of a
conference, the stipulation that there
must be no limitation of the sultan's
sovereign will. But those who labor for
peace, it says, will not lose heart because
the prospect is not perfectly clear.
The Times condemns past British policy
and says : "If Austria and Great Britain
had known their interests last year, they
would have arrested any extension of
this difficulty by promoting what was
then a comparatively easy settlement."
It then proceeds to forecast the future
in this wise : " Supposing the armistice
expires without a conference, or the
conference fails, the czar would declare
war, disavowing, probably, a desire to
add to the Russian dominions, or any
other object than securing good government
for her Slavonic brethren. Many
would say that this was mere hypocrisy
and falsehood, but it is clear that England
could find no pretense for interference
until much more had happened
than the outbreak of such a war for
snch an avowed DurDOse. The time
might come, when we, declaring to the |
sultan our regret at the inevitable partition
of his dominions, might be obliged
to demand that he should resign Constantinople
to a power able to take care of
it." The says it doea not suppose
it would come to. this. The czar
would stop before he provoked a crisis
calling for England's intervention.
With Servia aggrandized and independent,
and with Boumania independent
and aggrandized south of the Danube
in exchange for territory ceded to Russia
on the north, he would stop well
contented with what he had done in a
work, the completion whereof must be
left for another time. But what a result
this would be of a polioy having for its
first note the maintenance of the independence
and integrity of the Ottoman
empire. What we have described is the
probable course of events to which we
must look forward if the armistice ex
pires without peace being proclaimed.
Without Baying that under no circumstances
could a shot be fired from English
cannon, this much may be unhesitatingly
declared : that if Bussia took
up the war from Servia's failing hands,
English opinion would no more justify
armed opposition to Bussia, than it did
justify armed opposition to Serria, and
the diplomacy of Bussia would show itself
altogether -deficient in the sagacity
attributed to it if it did not so describe
the objects of the war and restrict its
operations as io prevent the occurrence
of any sufficient reason for our interfering.
The Price of Beef.
The New York Times has the following
: If American beef can be sent from
here to England?a distance of three
thousand miles?and retailed in the
London market for nine pence, say
seventeen cents per pound, surely it
should not sell here for from twenty to
thirty cents per pound. And be it remembered,
only the very choicest Ohio,
Indiana, Kentucky, and Missouri cattle
are used for export; the common sort,
more especially rough Texans, being
exoJuded. This promising addition to
our export trade is comparatively new,
constantly growing, and ia likely soon to
attain vast proportions. It has already
attained an average of about one hundred
carcases a day?roughly estimated
at $75 per carcase?making a total daily
export amounting in value to 87,500.
Is it not a monstrous anomaly that
American beef should be retailed in
London at lower rates than are charged
for it here ? All cotton goods show a
great advance and decline from the beginning
of the war down to the present
time. New York Mills, which sold f<*r
twelve and a half cents in 1861, and are
offered for the same price per yard today,
were advanced to eighty cents at
one time during the war. Wamsutta
goods, which sold for twelve cents a
yard in 1861, were advanced to seventy
cents in war times, ?nd are now offered
at the old prioe. Printed cotton goods
or calicoes are selling to-day in the lower
standard grades at a reduction from the
prices of 1860. Merrimacks, which sold
for ten and twelve cents a yard in 1860,
and twenty-eight and thirty cents during
the war, are now offered retail at six
and a quarter cents a yard. Garner's
sell to-day at six and a quarter cents a
yard, the same price as in 1861, and so
? 11?~V? Tnkrtln Aflfalnorno.
UH (LUVUgUUUU urn ituviu
Prime outs of beef sold before the war
for twelve and a half cents per pound.
To-day they are selling at from twenty
to thirty cents per pom*? in this market.
The Eastern Question.
The following is the text of a speech
delivered by the ozar of Russia at Moscow:
" I thank you for your sentiments
respecting the political situation, which
is now more clearly defined than before.
You know that Turkey has yielded to
my demands for an immediate armistice
to end the useless slaughter in Servia
and Montenegro. In this unequal struggle
the Montenegrins, as heretofore,
have shown themselves real heroes. Unfortunately
the saa e cannot be said of
the Servians, notwithstanding the assistance
of our volunteers, many of whom
shed their blood for the Slavonic causo.
I know that all Russia joins me in
warmly sympathizing in the sufferings of
our brethren and co-religionists. The
true interests of Russia are, however,
dearei to me than all. My wish to the
attermost is to spare Russian blood.
Therefore, I have striven and will stil
* * 1 *- - ? -?1 nf
Strive to OOiaill It rem im^u?om'3u? V>
the position of the Christians by peaceful
means. In a few days negotiations
will commence at Constantinople. My
most ardent wish is that we may arrive
at a general agreement; should this,
however, not be achieved, and should I
see that we cannot obtain guarantees
necessary for carrying out what we intended
to demand from the Porte, I am
flrmly determined to act independently.
I am convinced that the whole of Russia
will respond to my summons should I
consider it necaF3ary, and Russia's honor
requires it. Moscow will lead the van
by its example. May God help us to
carry out our sacred mission."
Chinese Cheap Labor.
The testimony taken by the Chinese
commi -:sion in San Francisco in reference
to the shoe trade was very interesting.
A manufacturer testified that four
years ago the average wages of journeymen
shoemakers ranged from $24 to $c>0
a week, whereas at present they are able
to earn only from 816 to $18 a week.
This reduction is attributed to the employment
of Chinese journeymen. The
price of Chinese labor in San Francisco,
he paid, was on a levol with that of white
abor in New England. An assistant
forewoman in a factory in which 300
Chinese journeymen were hired, stated
that twenty-three young women were
also employed on nppers. They did not
like to work with the Chinese, but starvation
was the alternative. There were
hundreds of unemployed white women
in the city who would gladly take the
place of the Chinese, and they could
certainly work with greater rapidity.
A Burglar Shot and JLliiea.
Mr. Joseph B. Pitzer, of Zio^.svillo,
Boone county, India' a, with bis shotgun
diminished the number of burglars
infesting Indianapolis and neighborhood
by one. At a late hour at night Mr.
Pitzer was awakened by a noise in the
rear of his residence, which proved to
be made by burglars climbing upon the
kitchen. They removed the upper sash
of the gable window opening out upon
the roof of the kitchen, and through the
window gained access to the main build- * "*
ing. They passed from the room first
entered down the stairway into the hall
and parlor. Their movements wefe
heard by Mr. Pitzer, who hurriedly
dressed himself and Armed himself with
his shotgun. He took the precaution to*
add to the load of birddhot in the gun a
few buokshot. He then went to a side j
door on the east side of the house where :
he could oommand a view of the kitchen t
and the probable exit of the burglars.
He passed out of this door to a small
porch, and as he stepped from the porch
a man advanced cautiously toward him,
stooping as if to conceal himself, evidently
not being aware of Mr. P.'s presence.
He soon disoovere I Mr. P., however,
and started up, and, as Mr.
Pitzer thought, attempted to draw a
pistol. Mr. P. immediately fired upon
him with, as it afterward proved, fatal
effect. The man disappeared behind
the house, and Mr. Pitzer returned to
his room and remained on guard until
daylight. After breakfast he started
for the barn to feed his horse, and- in
the barnyard found the dead ooay 01
the man npon whom he had fired the
night before. The shot had taken effect
in the breast and nock. The verdict of
the jury was that the deceased came to
his death by a'gunahot wound by the
hands of Joseph B. Pitzer, while in the
attempt to felonionsly rob the honse of
the said Joseph B. Pitzer.
People recognized the dead burg?ar
to be Charley Brown, a professional
thief. Mr. Pitzer is a well known and
wealthy citizen of Boone county, and it
is possible the burglars, knowing his
circumstances, believed he had a con- .
siderable sum of money in the house.
Presidential Contests.
Five Presidential elections in which
the vote of some one State might have
changed the result occurred in the
United States out of the twenty-two
from 1789 to 1872. In 1876, when the
State legislatures chose the electors,
Adams had only a majority of two over
Jefferson, the vote being seventy-one to
sixty-nine. In 1812 President Madison
was chosen over De Witt Clinton by 128
to eighty-nine. In this contest the vote
of either Pennsylvania (twenty-three)
or Virginia (twenty-three) would have
made De Witt Clinton President In
1824 t^e full" electoral vote of New York
(thirty-four) would have given Andrew
Jackson a majority of all the votes cast.
As it was he received only one vote
from New York 8tate, and the election
devolved upon the House of Kepresentatives.
The contest in 1844 was exceedingly
close. Polk received 170 votes ; Clay,
inc Inoo nf Vatr Ynrlr rthirtr.fonr
-LUU. 1UO 1UUU WA *1 w
votes) was fatal to Henry Clay. Polk's
plurality in the State was only 5,106?no
that a change of 2,554 votes would have
secured the election of Henry Oluy. At
the sixteenth .Presidential eioctiou
(1848), the vote of New -York (thirtyfour).
or Pennsylvania (twenty-four)
would have given Cass a majority over
Taylor. Buchanan won in 1856 by fiftytwo
votes. Without the aid of Pennsylvania
be would have had only 148 votes
?the exact number necessary to a
choice. Had Pennsylvania gone Republican
in October, his defeat was
inevitable. Lincoln received, in 1860,
180 votes, against 123 for his opponents.
Notwithstanding his great plurality, he
needed the vote of New York to give
him a majority of all the votes cast.
Henceforth small as well as large States
may deem themselves of great account.
A. Deadly Pool.
Some remarkable statements were
made at an inquest held at Bury, Lancashire,
England, reoently, respecting a
mill stream lodge"known as " Old Charley's
Lodge," or "The Hatter's Ceme
tery," in whioh a young woman agt.u
nineteen drowned herself. The lodge,
it seems, is in the midst of a thickly ,
populated neighborhood, and is not protected
by any fenoe. The water being
warm, it offers unusual temptation to
suicide, and owing to its unguarded
condition, it is also the scene of many
fatal accidents to yorag children, who
fall into it while playing on tho banks.
The coroner said he considered it " a
publio scandal" that "Old Charley's
Lodge" was not fenced off in some
way. He had himself held inquests on
the bodies of from fifteen to twenty
persons who had met with their deaths
in chat lodge, and he understood that
altogether npward of fifty bodies had
been taken out of it. Hfe did not think
there was another place in the kingdom
to equal it. This is a mistake. The
ponds on Hampstead Heath claim to
have destroyed more human lives tlrnn
any other piece of water of a similar size
in Great Britain, aijd the number of
bodies taken out of them is almost beyond
calculation. "Old Charley's
Lodge" is, however, beycnd doubt a
most deadly pool, and a police constable
present at the inquest stated that it was
a oommon saying in the borough: "I'll
go to Old Charley's Lodge," or "Go to
Old Charley's Lodge "?tho first being
i ^oanaiyi thfl HUAOnd of
an expicofuuu Ui ?
brutality. The coroner, with the hearty
concurrence of the jury, suggested that
he should himself write to the owner of
the lodge on the subject with the view
of having it fenced off; and it in to be
hoped that this letter will have the desired
effect.
Yisit Your Parents.
Never allow weather or want of time
* ? ?
or considerations ui cipeuoo uj. wmonience
prevent it, short and oiten if in
the same town, or if at a distance, make
it a point now and then to go back to
the old home, and talk about old times,
and tell them how you are doing. They
are old now, and are very much alone.
There are no young people about the
house to attract others, and mo3t of
those of their own age have passed
away; they need some break iu the loneliness
of their homes; every vidit of a
child is pore happiness, and when the
message comes, "They aie dead," your
first regret will bo that you had not done
more to make them happy, and to
smooth their pathway to their last reliting
place.
A Law Abiding Citizen.
A little old lady, wrapped with blanket
shawls almost to suffocation, stopped off
from one of the ferry boats at Detroit
and appeared desirous of interviewing
some person. As there were no handboxes,
baskets, or bundles visible, tiie
nnct/Mn ttnnsn officers paid no attention
to her until after a he "had lingered on
the wharf l'or fully half an hour. At
last an officer inquired if she was looking
for any person, and she replied that she
had been '* making some 2inrcha:jefl
across the river, and wanted some of the
government chaps to inspect the good4."
Mr. Thompson offered to perform the
service, when he was gratified with, *
view of two kittens whoso eyes were not
yet open. Soffioe it to my, no duty *ra.i
demanded ;!