The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, June 27, 1877, Image 1
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ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER.
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BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JUNE 27, 1877. NO. 3. VOLUME XXY.
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7 i ZTIZ I
Grandmother Gray.
Faded and fair, in her old arm chair,
Sunset gilding her thin white hair,
Silently knitting, sits Grandmother Gray ;
While I on my elbows beside her lean.
And tell what wonderful things I mean
To have, and to do, if I can. some day.
You can talk so to Grandmother Gray ;
Sho doesn't laugh, nor Bend you away.
I see, as I look from the window seat,
A house there yonder, across the street,
With a tine French roof and a frescoed hall
The deep bay windows are full of flowers ;
They've a clock of bronze that chimes tl
hours,
And a fountain?I hear it tinkle and fall
When the doors are open : " I mean," I say,
" To live in a house like that, some day."
"Money will buy it," says Grandmother Gra;
mere s u iuw uaruucnt;, uu gnrcu uuu
And a pair of horses as black as jet,
I've seen drive by?and before I'm old
A turnout like that I hope to get.
How they prance aiul shine in their harne
ga.v '
What fun 'twould be if they ran away V"
'Money will buy them," says Grandmolh
Gray.
"To-morrow. I know, a great ship sails
Out of the port, and across the sea ;
Oh ! to feel in my face the ocean gales.
And the salt waves dancing under me!
Tn fnr nf fliifl lav
I long to roam?and shall, some day."
"Money will do it.' Kays Grandmother Gra
"And when, like me. you are old." r-ays she,
And getting and going are done with, dear,
What then, do yon think, will the one thing 1
Yon will wish and need, to content you here
" Oh, when in my chair I have to stay.
Love, you sec. will content me," I say.
"That money won't buy," says Grnndinoth
Gray.
"And, sure enough, if there's nothing worth
All your can-, when the years are past,
But love in heaven, and lovo on earth,
Why not begin where you'll end at last ?
Begin to lay up treasure to-day,
Treasure that nothing can take away.
Bless'the Lord!" savs Grandmother Gray.
THE GIRL DETECTIVE.
The door of Rufns Marls ham's counting roo:
was securely closed, and the proprietor of tl
large, flourishing cotton factory talked eari
estlj with a gentlemanly looking man of mi'
die age, whose face was as impressive as a \\s
mask.
" Five thousand dollars!" said the iudividua
" It was a hir.se sum to leave exposed."
"Exposed!" said Mr. Markham. "It was i
my private desk, to which no one has acce:
but myself and my nephew, Fred Tryon."
" Would it be possible the young gentli
man "?
"SiV." wild Mr. Marklmm. indignantly, "11;
nephew is not a thief. If he needed ten turn
that sum he knows I would give it freely I
him. He will be my heir, m.d is as dear to n:
as a son. It is simply absurd to connect hii
in any way with this robbery."
"Just state the matter again, briefly as yc
oi.n, and allow me to take notes, will you, M
Markham V"
" Certainly. I drew five thousand dollars o;
of bank yesterday, to meet a note that was n<
presented for payment Retaining it unt
after the bank was c osed, I concluded to loi
it in my desk until this morning, and did s
At nino -o'clock this morning the expected no
was presented, and I opened the desk. T1
money was <;one, and with it a small menv
ran'Iam book that was in the same roll."
" The lock-was not forced V"
"No. sir; the desk was apparently exact
as I left it."
"And Mr. Tryon has the only duplica
key V"
The old gentleman frowned. He was e\
dently displeased at the turn the detective
suspicions seemed to be taking.
' Mv nephew certaiuly has the only duplica
- key."
' Il'm ! yes. Yon have tl.e numbers of tl
notes V
" Yes. The roll consisted of ten flve-lm
dred-dollar notes."
The list of numbers being taken, the dcte
tive made a searching examination of tl
oi^orfmnnf mul nr#>r?a!wl to tnko his denartnr
As Lie stood near the door, Mr. Markham su
donlv said, nervously:
"I think, Mr. Vogdes. if you make any di
covories, you had better report to me private
before making any arrests "
'Certainly, sir, if yon desire it. Will y<
grant me one favor? I)o not mention the ro
berv to Mr. Trvon, if you have not done ;
already."
u No one has heard of it but yourself."
"Very good! I will call again wnon I ha\
any report to make."
"Fred ! Fred!" the old gentleman said, in
low tone, when he was alone; "Vogdes ?
dently thinks it is Fred ! It cannot be ! It
impossible that my nephew would rob n;c !
cannot believe it. And yet he knew the mon<
was there. He was here when I handed Arno
the check, and here when he returned with tl
niOUPY. ue kucw mai juu:i?uii f linn; ?as ui
presented, and Fred alone has a duplicate ke;
Oh, if it should be! Anna's boy, that
promised to love as my own son. Have I n<
kept niv promise? Where have I failed? An
why should ho steal from mo, when all I ha\
is his ? I cannot, I will not. believe it!"
'May I come in?" asked a bright, plcasai
face at the door, and permission being givei
Fred Trvon entered the room. Looking int
his handsome young face, bright and franl
with well opened brown eyes, cud curls of un
brown hair, it was hard to connect it wi h ar
idea of roguery, ingratitude and theft. II
manner toward the uncle, who had ever filli
a "father's place, whs the perfects of resptc
fill affection, and before he bad been an hoi
in the counting-room, Mr. Markham's iinea;
fears were entirely gone.
They were talking of a certain dark-eye
little maiden, who was soon to be Mrs. Tryoi
and when Fred left bis uncle, it was with
promise that he would call in the evening upc
Miss Clarkson, to finally arrange for tl
wedding day.
The young man. a favorite of fortune, appa
ently, spent the afternoon with his betrotlic
received his uncle in the evening, beside be
and accompanied the old gentleman to li
boarding-house, received an affectionate far
well, when he took up his way to his ov
rooms in another house. For a week he lieai
nothing of the robbery.
It was just when summer twilight was fa
ing, that, returning from a drive with Mat
Clarkson, Fred met his uncle's coniidenti
clerk waiting for him at Maud's house.
" I have a note for yon, Mr. Fred," he sail
"and, as you were not at home, I thought
wpnld wait here for yon."
Something in the man's face and maun
struck a sudden chill to Maud's heart.
"Yon have bad news !" she cried.
'T>..rVirin? Mr. KrfvJ had better rend the note
was the evasive reply.
Bat Maud's terror was only increased whi
Fred, after reading the not;', broke into u fuj
on-t exclamation of rage.
" Who dares to say I ain a midnight burglar
he shouted.
"Oh, Fred, what is it?" asked Maud, tur
ing very white.
" My* uncle has been robbed of five thousr.i
dollars, and he pays mo tho compliment
supposing me the thief because I have a dup
cute key to his private desk. I?gre
heavens!" he cried, with a sudden change
his voice, '"he cannot mean it! I rob n
uncle! I!"
" Mr. Fred," said the clerk, respectfully, 4
only waited to see how you took tho note,
speak a few words of advice. Mr. Fred, I w
with your father when lie was killed on a ra:
way train; I was with your uncle when hebroug
you from your mother's funeral to his hom
1 took you to boarding school, and broug!
you home for the Holidays, ana i ve loved yo
boy nnd man, since you were ten years' ol
and that's twelve long years. I know y<
never took the money, tut things look ve
ugly for you."
'"But," said Fred, grasping hard the hai
the old clerk held out to him, " I cannot nude
stand it Listen," and he read aloud the no
from his uncle:
'"Mr. Frederick Tryon?I could not t
lieve without proof?undeniable, positive pro
tt"
! i
! ?that you could rob me of five thousand dol- j
' lars. taken, an you know, from my private desk, j
i on Wednesday last. You are my si.-ter'K son, 1
and I will never be the- one to imprison or ,
i punish you, but you are no longer nephew of j
mine. Willingly, I will never look in your face i
again. Your ill-gotten gains I freely give you
j to start in some business, trusting you w ?
1 live honestly in future. Do uot try to see mo ;
I will not listen to any explanations I know to
I be false. Do not write, for I will not open your
j letters. "4 ItcFUs Makkham."' "
j Maud Clarl;son grew white as death as she
j heard the stem edict. " 01), Fred!" she cried,
J " what can you do?"
? j "Starve, I suppose," was the bitter answer,
I " as I do not happen to possess the ill-gotten
l(1 1 gains so generously presented to me. But I
I ?:ii ?* .1. ?.. Man*
j Will IIU I UIUV WU IV Oinnv "IIU 4I?V, (
You were betrothed to tno millionaire's nephew 1
| and heir; the disinherited beggar frees you |
i from your promise."
; " Fred," she cried, bursting into tears, " howcan
you be so cruel?" Then, unheeding tin
F- i clerk, who was discreetly looking from the
! window, she came close to Fred's side,
i ' Dnriing," she said, fixing her eyes upon his
' face, " if all the world thinks you guilty, I do
; not. If all the world casts you off, I will keep
I my promise."
| The young lover had been bewildered, indigss
uant, desperate, but he folded the gentle comj
forter fast in his arms, and great tears fell j
j 0:1 her upturned face.
' "God bless you, Maud," he cried; "lean!
cr : defy the world,"if you are true to me. Now, I
Totter, sit down, and tell me what you k^ow !
: of this wretched business."
"Well. Mr. Fred. I never heard of the robbery
myself until this morning, when Yogdes,
the detective your uncle employed to work it
up, came to make his report. They did not
notice mo at first, and when youruncle remembered
I was in the room, I had heard about all
I Yogdes Knew. You remember there was a note j
I coming due las'. Wednesday? "
j "To JohnsonV*
"Yes; well, I thought at the time it was
curious your uncle gave him a check, when I
I knew the money was drawn out of the bank
be the day before to meet that very note. But I
? j never knew till this morning that the money I
v as stolen from Mr. Markham's private desk
by false keys. Mr. Fred,' said the old man,
earnestly, "it was all in five-hnndred-dollar
er notes, and vour uncle had the numbers."
I " Well ?"
i 'This morning Yogdes brought back 0110 of
: the notes which you gave to T vestef- j
! day in payment for a pearl locket."
"Stop, Potter! let me think. Where did 1
get that note? I have it! Arnold gave it to
me to take out a hundred dollars I lent him
rome time ago. And Arnold Totter,
Arnold borrowed my keys last Wednesday
' night to open his trunk*! Potter ! huzza!
j We know the thief!"
" Not so fast, Mr. Fred?not so fast. It will
j not be an easy matter to prove this. Wtre there
any witnesses present when Arnold borrowed
the keys?"
"No; I was alone in my room,half undressed,
v. hen he knocked at my door, and said he had lost j
m j the key of his trunk " I lent him my bunch of |
le keys, wlncn lie returned oeiorei was ouioi oeu :
n- i t)ie next day."
3- "AnJ you were alone when he paid yon the
ix | money?"
"Yes ; I thought ho was very flnt-h, for yon
1. j know as well as I do, Totter, that a note for five
I hundred dollars is not a daily vi.-itor in Arnold's
in j ] octet."
is i " He is a cunning scoundrel. He wants tons
j certain if the notes can he identified before he
e- j trios to get rid of them himself. Mr. Fred, will
| ye n leave it to me for a few days?only a few j
iy i d.iys??and if I do not catch the thief, you may j
?s : try !"
o | "But my undo V
ie t ? Wait till vou can prove your innocence ben
j fore you see Lim. Only a week. Give nie only
a week to watch Arnold. And. by-tho-way,
u you will give me an additional chance if you
!' will leave the city. Throw hiui off his guard
bv letting him suppose vou are banished for his
it crime."
;t " Huu away," Hashed Fred, " like a coward
il " Onlv for a week. You see, the probabilitv
!.- s.. ii,?? *i?^ i.ju !
o- j yet. He will wnit t>see the fato of what he |
te j ins given you before putting any more iuto j
10 i circulation: but he has probably hidden it very
?- ' securely. You he will watch ; but if you are
| willing," I will take your room while you are
! gone, and do a little private detective business
l.v \ oa my part "
: It was not easy to persuade Fred to consent
to Potter's plan."but Maud's persuasions being
added to the old man's he finally consented to
j- leave the city for a week, and return in that
>'s j time to vindicate his own innocence in cawe of
I Potter's failure.
te j Before night Fred was on his way to visit
another city, and his landlady had agreed to
( allow Mr. Potter to occupy his'place during his
] absence.
ii- ! Fred had been gone t'.vo days, when the old
| c!erk called upon Miss Clarkson to report proc*
I gress.
| "I am completely baffled," he said, in answer
e. to her inquiries. " You see, Arnold knows me,
and evidently suspects me. He is so affectionately
desirous of keeping me in sight, that I
*- cannot pet a peep mio ins room: una \wien]y
,.ver he is out, he locks the door and gives the
key to the landlady. I cannot force his door
' i yet, and by the time Fr. d returns, I am afraid
b- the money will be smuggled away. lam sure
so it is in his possession now,he is so careful about
liis room. Nobody gets in there but the lai'dlidy.
1 did think "of bribing the chambermaid
to let me in when she was at work there, but,
unfortunately, she left to-day."
a A flash of light seemed to pass across Maud's
j- face, but she only said, demurely :
is " Your landlady is a German, is she not'/"
1 " Yes; hex English is very imjwrfect. Have
y you ever seen her V
Id ' "No: 1 havo heard Fred speak of her. My
ie mother, you know, was German."
>t " Jiut ivhat has that to do with Fred's case?"
y. " I will tell you. Vogdes has tried to find the
I thief, and failed. You have tried, and failed.
:,t I mean to try and succeed!"
'd " You! What can you do ?*'
e " Come to-morrow, and I will tell you."
Punctual to the appointed time, I'otter made
it his appearance.
' With dancing eyes and Hushed cheeks, Maud
met him.
"Well?" he asked, certain from her looks
t- that she had good tidings.
iy " I told you I would succeed !"
is ''And you did? Huzza! I feel as young as
'd Fred himself !"
t- "To whom I have telegraphed to return.
t ]fe will be here this evening, and you must
?y bring Mr. Markham, 3Ir. Yodges and "the
proper police authorities, to meet in his room,
d Then, Mr. Potter, go to Mr. Arnold's room,
" and remove the pipe of the stove at the elbow,
a In the joint you will find Mr. Markham's memo111
randum book and the missing notes."
ie "You are sureV"
"Listen! This morning, in a calico dress,
r- sun-bonnet, and a pair of coarsc shoes, for
d. .disguise. L applied for the place of eliamber,
maid at the boarding house where Mr. Arnold
nas a room. I braided mv liuir 111 two long
e- ' plaits, and convinced your landlady that I wan
111 a recent importation from Germany, unable to
l'd speak a word of English. She agreed to take
me for one week on trial, and before I had been
<1* two liours in the house, I was sent to tidy Mr.
' <1 Arnold's room. Never was a room tidied so
111 quickly: and. seeing my mistress on her way to
market, I shot the bolt, aud took a survey of
: the premises. The trunk was locked, the bu
1 reau drawers wido open, the closet door ajar.
I felt a reluctance to overhaul any private deer
| positories ; though I should have done it," sho
' added, resolutely. " if I had been driven to it!
I rummaged a little, when on the closet-floor I
espied a shirt, apparently scarcely soiled, except
one sleeve, and that was black with soot.
:'Jl 'What is he doing at the fireplace in summer?' I
r'" thought, and went to examine. A few minutes
sufliced to convince me that the stove had been
' moved out, and the elbow of the pipe removed.
I repeated the process to find a roll of five
n- hundred-dollar notes, and a small note-book,
with the name Itufus Markham on the first
II(J page. I replaced everything carefully and
{!* came home. Now, Mr. I'otter, he must be
| taken by surprise, or he may say Fred put the
! notes there."
in " You nre a bravo girl!" cried the old man,
?7 ] looking with admiration at the beautiful, animated
face, " find Fred will owe you more than
'I his life.'
to i ?' He can repay me by coming to tell me tho
as good news when he is clear."
'**) Eight was striking by the city clocks when
Doctor Graham Arnold, dressed in the latest
C. f.ml.i.in mid Tv-it Ii a frnrrrnnt. Havana } if'tween
his lips, strolled leisurely into his room.
He had been in tlio parlor of lite boarding">
house for an li<mr, watching Mr. Potter
m with 'some anxiety, but wholly unaware of
T the little party of four, who. in Mr. Potter's
temporary apartment, awaited his return to bis
1(* j own rooni.
f~ i Once inside the door, the iionc'ialant look left
I the handsome face of the young man, and he
i muttered fiercely:
ie- j I must g^'t out of this! Potter suspects me,
of ! aud may yet communicate his suspicions to Mr.
Mnrkliam. I will be off to-night as soon as the
house is quiet."
He opened a small traveling-satchel, as he
spoke, aud was rapidly filling it with necessaries
for a journey, when he was interrupted by
a luiocii at the door.
Tossing the satchel into the closet, ho cried:
" Come in!"
But his face turned livid as his call was
obeyed, and a pftrty of five entered his room.
Two policemen stationed themselves on his
right and left, while Mr. Markliam, Mr. Potter,
and Fred Try011 followed.
"Now, Mr. Totter," said one of the policemen,
with the face and voice of the detective
Vodges, " will you tell us whero to find those
missing notes?"
" What notes?" cried Arnold. "What does
this outrage mean V"
"It means," said Mr. Potter, "that your
plan to throw the robbery of Mr. Markham's
private desk upon his nephew has failed. It
means that the five thousand dollars stolen from
that gentleman are now in your possession, excepting
only one note given to Mr. Tryon in
payment of a debt!"
"It is a lie!" cried the prisoner; but his
white face, faltering voice, and shaking limbs,
were 110 proof of innocence. " Search my trunks,
everything I have."
"No, gentlemen," said Mr. Potter. "Draw
out the stove, if you please, and look in the
elbow of the pipe !"
"With a cry, Graham Arnold fell senseless
to the lloor, as Vodges put his hand upon the
stove.
Mr. Markham turned to Fred. There was
no word spoken. Hand clasped hand, and
each read forgiveness and love in the other's
eyes.
Mr. Graham Arnold spent some weeks in jail
ere his trial and conviction; but before his
; sentence was pronounced Mr. and Mrs Frederick
Tryon were crossing the ocean on a wedding
tonr to Europe, and only Mr. Potter and
Fred ever knew of Maud's first and only appearance
as a Girl Detective.
Iler Pupa's Grave.
A little girl, with tangled locks peeping
from under a calico hood, clad in a
dress of chintz that hung all awry, loitered
behind as tho great, dusty crowd
moved out of the gates of Mt. Adna the
other day, after they had scattered their
flowers and done lionor to the dead.
Half dreamily she gazed after them, her
i eyes filled with a far-away look of ten
derness, until tho last one lmd disapI
peared, and the rattle of drums had died
! away. Then she turned and vaguely
' scanned the mounds that rose about her,
i clutching still tighter the fast-fading
bunch of dandelions and grave-grass that
her chubby hand held.
An old man passed by, and gently
patted her curly head, as he spoke her
name, but slie only shrank back still
: further, and when he told a passing
stranger that the little one's father was
one who went on the .battle-field and
never came back, there was only a teari
drop in the child's eye to tell that she
heard or knew the story.
When they were gone she moved on
J further to a neglected, empty lot, and
kneeling down she packed up a mound
of earth, whispering as she patted it
down, and smoothed it with her chubby
hand:
" This won't be so awfully big as the
others, I guess, but maybe it'll be big
enough so that God will see it, and think
that papa is bnried here."
Carefully she trimmed the sides with
the stray grasses she plucked, murmuring:
" And maybe it will grow so that it
will be like the rest in two or four years ;
and then, maybe, papa sometime will
come back and "?
Eut she paused as tliongh it suddenly
dawned upon her young mind that he
rested where the Southern breeze whispers
"unknown;" and the tear-drops
that spraug to her eyes moistened the
; little ouucn 01 aanueioms mat sue
; planted among the grasses on the mound
she had reared.
When the sexton passed that Tray at
night as he went to close the gates, he
found the little one fast asleep, with her
, hi:ad pillowed on the mound, and when
ho roused her she started up and looking
: dreamily around for a moment, and then
; smilingly faltered:
" Yes, I'll go home now, for God says
ho will watch papa's grave."?Fulton
(,V. Y.) Times.
An Idyl of the Rail.
A Palisade correspondent of the
Eureka (Nevada) Sentinel tells this idyl
, of the rail: A little incident occurred here
the other morning, on the arrival of the
Western-bound immigrant train, that il.
lnstrates the old story of love and its
i 6tratagems. Among the passengers was
a family from the 'hojjper-devastated
; State of Kansas, consisting of father and
i mother, and a small brood of thirteen of
' assorted sexes, ages and sizes. The
oldest was a plump, fair-haired girl, with
i a weary look that betokened a life worn
(flit with a constant struggle with the
tow-headed children that had fallen to
I or charge. A stalwart young fellow
from Maine, bound to the redwood section
of the Golden State, made the acquaintance
of the girl after leaving
Omaha, and the trip, so tedious to the
uiumury ]JUbhfu^t*i, ucuunu wicnx uuj^
one of pleasure. Friendship ripened
into love, and the flame was mutual.
Soft glances, ardent pressures of the
; hand, and delicious rides on the platform
together became daily incidents, only
interrupted by the shrill voice of the
mother, whose falsetto shriek of " Mary
Ann," recalled the daughter from her
dream of love to the stern duties of life.
This riled the young man, and he unfolded
a plan to the girl whereby she
could shake herself free from her sisterly
duties, and after some hesitation the
fair Mary Ann consented. On the arrival
of the immigrant train at Falisade the
couple got out of the car and incontinently
skedaddled in the direction of
the round house, behind which they
i stayed until the train pulled out. Then
boarding the Eastern-bound train, they
proceeded as far as Elko, where they
j procured a license and were duly made
one. The groom telegraphed the fact to
the anxious parents, passed the night at
the Depot Hotel, and taking the morning
Western passenger train, they proceeded
I on their way to overtake their old train,
wnicn uiey oxpecieu tu uu humewut-ic m
the neighborhood of Winnemucca.
Dealing in Dead Dogs.
i It is a fact, perhaps not generally
known, that there is a firm doing business
in San Francisco who purchase the
i thousands of dogs slaughtered by the
poundmaster of that city, or that may
havo been otherwise killed, for which
they pay forty cents each. The carcasses
: are conveyed to- their manufactory at
Hrmtli VrunfMBpn tvliorp flift wkillS fll'fi
removed ami sold to the tanneries, the
i bair taken off and resold to plasterers,
the hide tanned, made into glov&s, and
sold in the market. The denuded cnrca3B
is then thrown into a huge cali
dron and boiled until the bones are
easily separated from the flesh, when
they are removed and sold to the sugar
refineries, where they are ground to a
fine powder and used to clarify sugar.
The oil that rises to the surface of the
boiling mass is skimmed off and manufactured
into cod liver oil, and the re|
mainder is used for the purpose of fatI
tening hogs.
A RESUSCITATED CORPSE. J
i Tlic Criminal Cnrocr of a iHiirdcrer lie- | I
culled to Life. j In
tlie year 1774 a man named Joseph i j
Richelot was broken alive on the wheel |
at Orleans for highway robbery, and, as j
there were no relatives or friends to :
j claim the body, the executioner, when '
I he thought life was extinct, gave it to a ] ,
: surgeon, who carried it to the anatomical j (
j academy for dissection. The legs and j,
' arms of the wretch had been fearfully j.
broken and mangled, but yet, when the | j
j surgeon applied his knife, he detected .
' signs of life, and, by the aid of powerful (
I excitants and stimulating cordials, the (
' highwayman was brought to his senses ,
1 aiul to the power of speech. ,
The surgeon and his pupils were kind 1
j hearted, and, deeply moved by the .
I sufferings and the earnest solicitations .
: of the culprit, they resolved to attempt ,
| his cure. v .
! They would thus lose the subject for .
j dissection, but then the experience of J
handling such a case in treatment would ;
' be valuable to them. So dreadfully
! mangled was he that they had to am- j (
' putate both his legs at the hip-joints!
: and take off his left arm at the shoulder. J
| His right arm had been fractured above j (
| and below the elbow, but the bones had j
not been shivered, and withjextreme care j
that important limb was saved. Not-1
; withstanding the mutilation?a mutila- j '
j tion and blood loss that would bo surely ;:
I fatal in a hundred and ninety-nine cases ! !
- XI ,1 A n>1 i '
! Ill it UlUllOllllU WIG 1XJU11 itunutu, auu
; now what should be done with him ? A :
man with not even the stump of a leg, \
and with only one arm! He begged j
that he might be taken further from*
Paris, where he could gain a livelihood by
begging. They might be sure he would
henceforth lead an honest life. He swore J
I that he would rather die than steal!
again. The good doctor, willing to do |
anything in his power, put Richelot into j
a cart and sent two of his student3 to I
convey him fifty leagues away to the 1
southwest, beyond Poitiers.
j The man was full forty lengues away |
from the nearest place he hail ever been I
known. He took a situation by the j
roadside, close by a ragged clifF of rock j
and a dense wood, where his deplorable
condition excited the compassion of all i
I who saw him. In -his youth he had
served in the army, and, clad in an old
hussar's jacket and helmet, he passed
for a soldier who had lost his limbs in
battle.
Time passed. Byc-aud-by a peddler,who
had set out from Lusignan on his way to
Vitray, with afull pack and much money,
was missed.
Other men mysteriously disappeared
in that same section. The police
searched for the robbers, but could not
find them, and yet they were well assured
thut these oft-recurring disappearances
were not the result of accident. There
must be robbers and assassins somewhere.
The celebrrtted Jean Coquelle, with a
platoon of his well trained detective
force, came down from Paris, and spent
two months in the provinces, but failed
to unearth the mystery.
One day n drover, returning from
market where lie bail been selbng cattle,
came upon the poor, legless beggar by
the wayside, and was solicited for
charity.
Being moved to compassion by the
sight of so much disfigurement?for the
wretched man seemed to be both legless
and armless?the drover threw him a |
piece of silver.
"Alas !" said the mendicant, in pite- I
ous tones, " you see I cannot reach your i
I bounty. L have neither an arm nor a j
! leg. If you will be so kind as to put j
j your generous donation into my pouch, j
| I will bless you. To-night my poor j
faithful Lizette will come with jMoulard'e |
cart and take me home, where your silver i
shall find us a meal such as we have I
not tasted for many a day."
Tlio drnvpr rrnh (lfwn from his cart and i
| approached the beggar, and as he stoop- J
; ed down to pick up the money, the huj^
! suddenly breaking from behind a clou^P
: threw a strange shadow upon the sward/'
| causing the traveler to look up, when he
| caught siglii of a good, stout right arm, i
1 elonging to the mendicant, raised above j
' his head, the brawny hand of which ,
; grasped a short iron bar, with a knotted |
j knob on the end. He arrested the blow j
i in its descent, and being a man of im- ]
! mouse muscular power lie lifted the beg!
gar and carried him 1.0 his cart, and liftv-;
ing thrown him into it he drove to the !
next town, where lie brought his prison- !
er to the magistrate.
On searching him a silver whistle of
curious construction was found in his j
pocket, which naturally led to the sus-1
picion that ho might have accomplices !
i in the woods, wliereunon the magistrate !
called a sufficient guard, under com- j
j maud of au experienced officer, and sent
them, with a drover for a guide, to the
pluce where the murder wns attempted. 1
I Not more than an hour had elapsed since
: the drover had left with his prisoner
j when the spot was reached, the distance j
j from the village being not quite a league, j
j The gendarmes concealed themselves i
I in the bushes, after which the whistle !
j was blown, the sound being exceedingly j
sharp, clear and penetrating; and directly
an answering whistle was heard, j
seeming to come from under ground. [,
Nor was this all. Hardly had the note :
of the whistle died away when three men 1
rose to sight from a thick tangle of ;
I shrubs and vines close at hand. The |
j soldiers, with muskets cocked aud prej
eented, advanced and ordered the men j
! to surrender, uue 01 tnem mrneu wi.
I flee and was immediately shot down, J i
I upon which the other two, seeing that
j they were fairly caught, threw down ' i
their arms. When they had been sc- ,
cured the place where they had appeared I;
was searched and the eutrance found to ,!
a deep spacious cave, wherein were dis-11
covered two women and a boy and a girl, j
The women gave in evidence that they .
had been origiually seized by the rob- ;
hers and carried away from their homes ; |
that fche,y had been forcibly held cap- :
I tives and had finally married with their .
| abductors The boy and girl were their j
; children. The girl, a bright, intelligent j i
miss of ten or twelve years, testified that'
bodies of travelers newly killed were I
ofteu brought into the cave aud stripped
i and buried. On j^leasant days it was;
| their custom to carry the old mutilated 1
; soldier out to the roadside, where he i
woidd sit for three or four hours at a J
time, his (itiable condition being sure [
to excite the compassion of passengers. 5
When a traveler appeared who gave ,
promise of a well-filled purse thcoldrobi
ber, with that strong right arm and bar
! of iron, having inveigled him within I
; reach, would administer a blow that was
; sure to stun if it did not kill him, and ,
j then the whistle would quiqkly call assis- j
I tauce. Only the sudden gleam of the
j sun from a thickly clouded sky had saved '
the drover. The mvsteiy of the disap- j
pearance of so many travelers was solved, j
and with the putting away of the pre- r
cious gang the work was stopped. I
The next time Joseph Bichelot was j
broken upon the wheel be sure the excmtioner
did not surrender the body |
until lie was 'well assured that no surgeon
of earthly mold could bring it
back to life.
Lynching in Iowa.
There was intense excitement at the
3cene of the hanging of Eckler, in
Grundy county, Iowa, says a correspondent.
The trouble out of which
it grew is of long standing?a neighbor-1
1 " ' ' n.1.1 j _ I
nooa quarrel Detweeu j&uiuer uuu a mi* i
vicious and desperate men. To get rid j
uf Eckler and drive him out of tlie j
30unty some five years ago, they trumped
up a charge that he had committed a
3Prious crime. Ho 'was warned to quit
the county, but, failing to do this, he
was tarred and feathered. Eckler quit
the county, but returned about a month
ago. He made several threats of having
those engaged in the tar-and-feather
matter brought to justice. In meeting
one of his enemies one day in the field
he told him he had a settlement to make
with him, and accused him of being one
ol the men who had tarred and feathered j
him. Several days after this the man '
above mentioned had Eckler arrested,
charging that he had drawn a gun upon
him and threatened to kill him.
Eckler was arrested late in the evening
by Constable Nelson and taken before
Justice Crary, seven miles from
Union. The case was adjourned over
nil Hfnn/low mid +I10 tnnlr llim
home to await Monday's examination. I
At twelve o'clock at night, after all were !
in bed, Nelson heard an alarm at the j
door and, suspecting nothing, opened
it, and was met by five men, all disguised,
who demanded Eckler. Upon
his refusal to give him up, two of them
seized him and held him, while the other
three rushtd past into JEckler's room,
seized him, and, without allowing him to
dress, hurried him off on foot for over
three-quarters of a mile, to a row of
Cottonwood trees by the side of the road,
where they had previously prepared a
rail across two limbs, with a large rope
attached. They pinioned h;s hands and
gagged him, and then lifted him up,
placed the noose atynit his neck, and let j
him drop. The rope was so long his >
feet touched the ground. They readjusted
the rope and let him down again,
and, thinking they heard somp one coming,
they started to leave. One of them,
on looking back and seeing Eckler's toes
just touching the ground, ran back and
dug tbe earth from under his feet with
his hands, and with an oath exclaimed :
" There, curse you, die!"
TT? 1 1 *1,
XIUW 1UI1?? lie luiuiwucu unci c juuaica AO
not able to any, as lie thinks he became
unconscious, but on reviving he found
his toes just touching the ground. The
rope, beinlarge, did not slip tight
enough to choke him, and by a desperate
effort he wrenched his hands free, and
by drawing himself up with his hands
soon freed himself. Then he made his
way to a neighbor's house and procured
clothing.
Thoughts for Satnrday Night.
Goodness is beauty in its best estate.
Your eoodness must have some edge
to it, else it is none.
It is much better to have your gold in
the hand than in the heart.
How did the atheist get his idea of that
God whom he denies ?
The love of glory can only create a
great laero ; the contempt of it creates a
great man.
One might as well try to calculate
mathematically the contiugent forms of
the tinkling of bits of glass in a kaleidoscope
as to look through the tube of the
future and foretell its pattern.
Fortune, like other females, prefers a
lover to a master, ana uuuuiu) wim mipatience
to control; but be that wooes
her with opportunity and importunity
will seldom court ber in vain.
To be thrown upon one's own re- \
ources *3 to be cast into the very lap of'
fortune ; for our faculties tben undergo j
a development and display in energy of i
which they were previously ansuscepti-1
ble. '
Thonglx fraud in all other instances
be odious, jet in matters of war it is I
laudable and glorious, ami he who over- j
comes his enemies by stratagem is as'
much to be praised as he who overcomes I
hem by force.
A man is thirty years old before he has j
settled thoughts of his fortune ; it is not |
compl .'ted before fifty. He falls to
building in his old age and dies before
his house is in condition to be painted
and glazed.
The sea as well as the air is a iree ana |
common thing to all; and a particular i
nation cannot pretend to have the right j
to the exclusion of others without vio-|
latiug the rights of nature and public j
usage.
Nothing can he more absurd than the !
idea that " looking guilty " proves guilt. ;
An honest man charged with crime is'
much more likely to blush at the accusa- 1
tion than the real offender, who is gene- I
rally prepared for the event, and has his
face "ready made." The very thought i
of being suspected of anything criminal!
will bring the blood to an innocent man's
cheek nine times out of ten.
The New Boy.
The other day a small boy arrived in '
Dotroit, from Eaton county, with a
view of becoming a boot-black and a j
gamin. They called him a "hard nnt," i
out there, but yet he was a very innocent j
lad compared with the post-office gang, j
says the Free PrcM. The boys of Detroit.
received him kindly, posted him as well j
as they could, and the other morning !
he was found in Moffat's alley, as white '
as a sheet, and looking like death on a j
pale horse.
"You've been trying to learn to'
chew tobacco, have you ?" asked the !
officcr who discovered him.
" I only c-chewed up one plug,"
replied the lad, as his teeth knocked together.
" I think what ails me is the j
smell of these brick buildings, and the
sight of bo much sidewalk. . 1 wish 1 j
was b-bnck 011 a f-farw !" v |
Perturbed Spirits.
A neighborhood on North Hill was
disturbed all one night recently by
dreadful, awful noises coming from a
haunted house, and the appalled family
in the house itself never slept a wink,
but sat up with palid faces and beating
hearts, alternately reading the Bible and I
calling loudly for the police, while the
perturbed spirit of the placo wailed and I
shrieked and moaned and howled like j
the echoes of despair. But when mom- j
ing broke the mystery was partially j
cleared awa^by the discovery thut the
cat had gone into the cistern to wash its ;
feet, and had neglected to take a fire
Escape along by which to get out.?Burlington
Hawkey c.
FARM, UAKDEJf AM) UUUSfcHULU.
Dairy Cows.
*The present Beason, usually called
" between hay and grass," is a critical
one fov all live stock, nncl particularly
for cows. They should be turned out
as soon as the ground is thoroughly dry,
for a few hours each day, and then driven
up to dry fodder until they are gradually
inured to the succulent grass of the
pasture. Heating feed of any kind for
cows before calving will involvo great
rlnnffpr of milk fever. It is a bitterlv
cruel thing to keep a cow fastened in a
stanchion while calving. They should
be kept in roomy stalls or loose boxes.
Just as long as the nighta continue cold
and raw the cows should be kept up
nights. In fact there are few if any
nights, even through the wannest
months, that cows woiild not be better
for a shed to lie under out of the heavy
dews of night. A contemporary says a
farmer asks if there is any way to " deonionize"
the milk of cows which run
in the woods where wild onions and leeks
are plenty. Of course it can't be done
if the cows eat any rank weeds; the
flavor will remain in the milk as in the
butter and cheese made from it. It is a
qiiestion whether the little forage cows
get in the woods pays for tainting the
milk in this way in any case where there
is any oiner means 01 huudiswucc 101
them. No cow can produce pure and
healthy milk unless she 1ms pure and
healthy food and drink. Whatever may
cause an unhealthy condition of a cow,
it will be sure to determinate her milk,
and nothing will be more sure to do this
than scanty and poor food and drink,
rough treatment and exposures. A
neglected or thin feverish cow will not
only yield a diminished profit, but she
will give feverish milk, if any; or if
there is anything wrong about her, it
will affect her milk; or if she eats anything
that has a strong or disagreeable
odor it will Burely appear in her milk
cream, and the butter produced from it,
as her milk is one source she has of casting
off filth from her organism. These
facts should at all times be well impressed
upon tho minds of farmers, but
more especially in the spring of the year,
when cows are liable to be thin and more
or less feverish. Many farmers keep
their cows confined in stanchions too
great a portion of the time through the
long winter, and too, in small, ill-ventilated
stables, where they cannot always
get fresh, pnre air, neither can tliey
have proper exorcise ftnd water at ail
t'mes when desired aud needed by them.
IIouNclinld llhKH.
'Canned Strawberries. ? Fill glass
jars with fresh whole strawberries,
spriukled with sugar in the proportion
of half pound of sugar to a pound of
berries, lay the covers on lightly ; .'tnnd
then in a wash boiler tilled with water to
within an inch of the tops of the cans
(the water must not be more than milkwarm
when the cans nre placed in it).
When it litis boiled for fifteen minutes,
draw to the back of the stove ; let the
steam pass off, roll the hand in a towel,
lift out the cans, and place on a table.
If the berries are well covered with their
own juice, take a tablespoon a*l fill up
the first can to the very top of the rim
from the second; wipe the neck, rub
dry, and screw the top down firmly ; observe
carefully the general directions for
canning berries. Fill another from the
second can, and so on until all are finished.
Ginger Beer. ? Take nine gallons
of water, ten pounds of brown or white
sugar, eleven ounces of braised ginger
rnnt niim ounces of lemon iuice. half a
Sound of honey, and three pints of yeast;
oil the ginger half au hour in a gallon
of the water, then add the rest of the
water and the other ingredients and set
it aside ; when cold, strain it and add
the white of one egg, beaten, and half
an ounce of essence of lemon ; let it
stand foul- days, then bottle, and it will
keep many months.
Cure for Sprain.?Take one tablespoonful
of honey, the same of salt, and
the white of one egg ; beat all well together
for at least one hour?or two
would be better. Let it 6tand for an
hour. Then anoint the sprained place
freely; keep well rolled up with a good
bandage.
Vinegar.?Save the parings and cores
of apples, put them in a jar with warm
water enough to more than cover them ;
set them in a warm plae? for several
days, then strain and add one pint of
molasses to a gallon of the water ; put
m a ]ar, tie a thin ciotn over it, Keep in
a warm place, and in two weeks you will
have good vinegar.
For Arresting Fermentation.?Dissolve
a small quantity of borax (half a
teaspoonful), into a tablespocnfiil of
boiling hot water, for every quart of
cream or milk. To keep jneat from spoking,
sprinkle on a little powdered borax
like salt; then wash well in borax watej
before cooking.
Petroleum on Sliiuirle*.
In regard to applying petroleum to
shingles to preserve them, a writer says:
" It enters the pores of the wood at
once and as it hardens makes it more
compact in texture, and rather less liable
to take fire. The petroleum also prevents
the surface of the shingles from
rising in downy fibers, or 'fuzz,' and it
in on the whole not so liable to fire from
"sparks when treated with it. We have
tried the exneriment with shingles oiled
some time previously, and find they are
not so candy ignited by outside fire, although
when once burning, they will, of
course, produce more fiame than the
wood without the petroleum." Petroleum
is also very- good to apply to the
iron work and steel of farm implements^
to preventthoir rusting when not in use.
The crude article costs but ?3 or 84 ner
barrel?the price may be higher at present?and
it is useful to keep on hand.
When any outbuildings, or even your
dwelling house is to be painted, onehalf
of the expense may be saved by applying
a coat of petroleum with a fine
whitewash brush; let it dry several
weeks, and then put on one coat of
paint, and by so doing a second coat of
paint is rendered unnecessary. *
The Orchard.
The pear slugs will visit your pear nnd
quince trees this season, no doubt. On
small trees destroy them by pinching
with the fingers; on larger trees throw
road dust or dry ashes on them when the
dew is on the leaves. They will be
abundant in June, and ought to receive
prompt and thorough attention.
l-'ersons wno nave .yoiuig prar ui 14^10
trees affected with the bark-louse have
probably found most of their efforts to
get rid of the pest ineffectual. If they
will examine their trees about appleblossom
time very closely they will discover
the newly-hatched licc moving
about tbe bark appearing liko minute
white specks. Now, "go for" them with
a brush and strong soapsuds and make a
finish of them. If left until they form a
scale covering, it will be too late, for
then they cannot bo dislodged.?Farm
Journal.
A KEJl;lKK.A15Lfc VWAItr.
A Duodecimo Copy of Nature'n Finest I Work
?A Carious Little Alan.
' Count Joseph Bornwlaski was aptly ;
| termed " a perfect copy of nature's finest i
| work in duodecimo." His intellect was
remarkable and was early developed. He J
spoke several languages. To soundness
of understanding lie combined quickness ;
of apprehension and solidity of judg- \
j ment. He soon acquired an elegance of ,
| deportment only attained by intercourse
| with polished society. He was born in
i Challez, in 1739, and' measured but eight
inches at birth. He was exceedingly
well proportioned, and became a portege
of the Countess Humiska, a woman distinguished
in her birth and personal accomplishments.
She soon took him on j
a tour through the leading courts of Eu- j
j rope. He reached Vienna at the age of !
i fifteen, and at that time was but twenty- i
five inches in height. He saw Maria !
Theresa, who became much attached to
him. That great princess was at that
time at war with the king of Prussia.
The queen asked the dwarf his opinion
of the Prussian monarch. "Madam,
said he, "I have not the honor to know j
him ; were I in his place, instead of j
waging a useless war against you, I
would come to Vienna and pay you my
respects, thinking it more honor to gain
your esteem than to gain a victory from
you." The queen took him in her lap
j and kissed him. He laughed. The
I queen asked him what he was laughing
at. His quick reply was To see so
j small a man on the lap of so great a wo|
man." This answer procured him fresh
j caresses. He gazed at a ring on the
I lmnrl nf flip nnoft when sit tine on
her lap, anil she asked liim if he thought
it pretty. Boruwlaski replied It is
not the ring that I wa*> looking at, but
the hand I beseech your majesty to kiss."
This was granted, and the queen took
from her daughter a diamond ring and
gave it to Boruwlaski. The young lady I
! from whose finger the ring was taken I
j was the unfortunate Maria Antoinette, j
] afterward queen of Fiu_?e.
; Maria Theresa made strenuous efforts
to have the dwarf remain a member of j
| her court, but Countess Humiska would j
not consent to the arrangement.
When in Paris Count Olinski gave an j
entertainment to some ladies of high dis- \
tinction. and, to please them, he put i
i Boruwlaski into an urn. The urn was |
I placed on the table, and a funny noise j
proceeded from it. The*count refused I
to uncover the urn, and the curiosity of
the ladies was raised to the highest point. [
At length the cover was removed and j
out sprang Bornwlaski, who ran about j
the tables to the no small astonishment;
I and diversion of the ladies.
He visited various courts of Europe,
j his reputation proceeding him, and
1 everywhere lie was caressea Dy tne iaj
(lies, who universally took him on their
! laps and kissed him.
At twenty-five he fell in love with an
actress and proposed to her ; she laughed
at him. At forty love was again interfered
to disturb his peace of mind. He
married shortly after Isalina Barbonton,
and was turned adrift into the world by
his former benefactress, countess Humisktra
He set out and gave concerts for
the support of himself and wife. A little
daughter of one of the members of the
nobility heard him sing, and asked her
father to go buy the nttie man ior ner. i
When asked what she would do with
him, replied : "I will keep him in my j
room and dress him like a doll."
i Once, when the wife of Bornwlaski was i
sick, he sent for Dr. Walker, who, seeing j
, Bornwlaski in the room, bade him keep j
; j quiet. It was with difficulty he was
made to believe him a husband and a
i father. He had two children and lived to ;
i the extreme age of ninety-eig lit.
The Monitor Superseded.
! If the story told by the dispatches concerning
the blowing up of the Turkish
monitor is true then that peculiarity of
naval warfare which superseded almost
' every form of " man-of-war " has been
, not only superseded but rendered*use
I less. It matters not liow impregnable a
11 craft may be from fort or ocean broad|
side if a torpedo can be placed nnder lier
i in broad daylight and her fragments
, I scattered all over the surrounding space.
;! Substantially, this is what was done in
,; the case referred to. The monitor was
| j able to fire upon the approaching craft
: j which carried the engine of destruction ;
but was not able to check its onward
movement. And when this fact became
i apparent, the supremacy of the monitor
j ceased. Its elevation skyward was
merely excess of proof. The torpedo'
| showed itself king the minute it demon:
strated its capacity to advance under fire.
The whole question, therefore, of naval
I warfare is opened again, just as it has j
I been scores of times when the discovery :
, I of a new gun or projectile has necessi-1
; tated a more powerful ship, or viae versa.
j The powers with fleets of iron-clads can j
no longer proclaim themselves masters |
: of the ssas, for. the most ius'gnif'cant |
I power with a practicable torpedo or two 1
j can demolish their whole reliance. The j
torpedo must be met with an engine i
! more destructiv s ; aud when this is ac- j
! coinplished the 1 attle ground will only i
i be shifted, for tl e new must in its turn i
: be destroyed. Ti.ere is hope, however, I
AI.-4. ? nmvtBBOU fctlA lmnlfi-t
Il/JLiU 1/ ifcO llDCillilUU w..~ -?4 .
ments of war, both hy laud and sea, will j
1 become so frightfully destructive as to .
put nu end to war altogether. If the |
' day ever should come, as it probably !
will, when war means annihilation of the '
| unsuccessful party to the conflict, >
j nations will be les3 eager to engnge in it!
! than they now arc. i
Fashion Notes.
] J lack and silver fans with Japanese I
! designs are the tnost stylish.
A novelty in feathers for I mama hats !
is a plume tipped with straw
Lisle thread gloves with long clocked j
cuffs are the most fashionable.
j Silk stockings, to be worn with low
slippers, have designs imitating colored 1
! ribbons crossing the instep and continu'
ing above the ankle, where thoy end in a
knot. These should be called
i " Malvolios.^
tl(irring8 composed of little goKl hoops
' in which ore swung owls made of bog- 1
. wood, with yollov eyes, or rings of gold ,
n.uing tiny birds'-nests of dull gold,
j with birds' $gg $ in enamel, the little !
, birds sitting on 'he edge, are among the ;
newest fancies French jewelry shows ;
J many new do igns in -imitation of bee- j
, ties, flies, bir-'s, arrows, keys and other 1
; devices, in which turquoises and flue rti- i
bies are encnistcd. Silver combs are
i fashionable, and demand silver jewelry j
to match.
?
I was somewhat shocked when a young man
1 pot up in our young converts' meeting and said
he had carried a pocket pistol ever since he be!
carno converted. But when lie drew it out it
I was a Testament. I hopo every one of the
I young converts will carry a pocket pistol of that
I Uiud.?Moody at Borfw.
IQLJApaiK
GENESIS xxxi. 49.
The Lord watch between me and thee,
When we are absent one from another ;
Though long miles away thou mayst be,
And a hard fate each from the other
Forever divide, yet still mast my prayer
. E'er be the same?in hope or despair,
In days of soft peace, in suffering's breath, _
In storm or in calm, in life or in death,
In right or in wrong, in gt>od or in ill,
Ever the same, the same prayer still?
The Lord watch between me and thee,
Thee, love, no other, ii
Through might of the land, through power
of the sea,
Where'er thou mayst be,
While we are absent one from another.
Items of Interest.
The "bier Kruon" gun is worth $100,000.
Some cf qui big gtrns are worth $10,000,000.
The king of 8iam signs himself " Chu Long
Korn." It is better, however, in the shape of
succotash.
A young man from Auburn. N. Y., who went
to Texas this spring, has telegraphed to his
father : "Fatted calf for one.
A superannuated Turkish officer has just
been given a position where ho will have nothing
to do. He is a paymaster.
We have reached that season when a girl
unintentionally leads her fellow up the street
that is most thickly populated with ice caeam
saloons.
A Chicago man has invented an instrument
be calls a "poison sucker," by means of which
ho extracts the virus from wounds made by mad
dogs and other venomous beasts.
In London they talk of establishing a corps
to keep the sidewalks and pavements clear of
orange and banana peels. The death of a
well known citizen was caused there by his
slipping upon an orange peel.
" Mamma, if we cross the bridge at night,
mus'.' o pay toll?" "Of course," my dear;
whv do you "ask V" "Why, because the river
will have gone home to sleep." " Ob, the river
never sleeps." "Then why has it a bed,
mamma ?"
A little girl visiting a neighbor was asked if
she would have some bread and butter. " No,"
she replied, rather sorrowfully, "my ma said I
mustn t ask you for bread and butterthen
un<Mniilv >irijrViffln?nrr iin ?hft said : "H?V6
you got any cookies V"
The tigress in the Berlin gardens lately gave
birth to a litter of two, but as nothing would
induce her to behave maternally to them they
were added to the domestic circle of aladyNewfoundland,
who most affectionately took them
in aud does for them.
A Paris showman recently presented to his
son-in-law, as his daughter s fortune, an elephant
that danced a fandango; a camel that
went down on its knees, head to the east, at
sunset; a dog that catt up accounts, aud two
canaries that played cards.
A San Francisco firm lies contracted to pay
forty cents apiece for tho unlicensed dog?
slaughtered in that city. The skins are to be
tanned forjjlove making, the hair will be used
iu plaster, the bones ground for clarifying
sugar, and the fat manufactured into oil.
" Go away; you're too heavy to hold on my
knee," said a cross young man to his sweetheart's
little brother. "Me too heavy!" exclaimed
the child; " why, I ain't so heavy as
Eliza, and you hold her on your knee easy
enough !" Eliza also then told him to go
awav.
Lessing, the German author, was, in his old
age, subject to extraordinary fits of abstraction.
On his return home, one evening, after
ho had knocked at his door, the sen-ant looked
out of the window to see who was there. Not
recognizing his master in the dark, and mistaking
him for a stranger, he called out: "The
professor is not at home." " Ob, very well,"
replied Leasing; " no matter?I'll call another
time!- ________
Dn<l Condition of the Turkish Troops.
A correspondent writing from Constantinople,
gives a deplorable acconnt
of the medical and sanitary necessities
of the Turkish troops. He says that
the medical staff does not exceed one per
one thousand strength, and he writes
most contemptuously of the sort of men
who form the staff. He describes them,
indeed, as for the most part apprentices
in the art and science of medicine, without
culture, and who possess only such
a smattering of physic and surgery as
may be picked up in the Turkish medical
school at Constantinople.
This correspondent eays, moreover,
that the Turkish forces are in want of
mediciues, bedding, litters, ambulances,
and surgical and medical necessaries of
all descriptions. He also asserts that
even thus early in the war the question
arises: How are the troops tone fed?
As to the medical and sanitary wants,
the- Turks believe that help will come
from England; but as to foot], he asks:
Where will this come from ? Turning
to the Russian side, we find a medico
sanitary organization which, so far as it
can be judged before it is fully tested
" ' n _T 1 J.. ,1 ^t
Dy tne exigencies 01 me jlluki iuiu vi
actual warfare, would seem to be comElete,
while the military organization is
eing supi)lemented by voluntary efforts
of the people at large for aiding the sick
and wounded almost unique in their
character.
Out On a Fly.
A trio of ladies got <yi the special
Chicago express going West, and discovered
when the train was in motion
tbat they wero going in the wrong direction.
Two of them rushed for the platform
and jumped. The momentum of
the train threw them off their feet, and
they rolled over in the depot yard. The
third ran throngh the train to the platform
of the rear car and then jumped.
But fickle fortune favored. A very fleshy
reporter happened to be standing there,
and seeing the predicament of the lady
opened his arms. She jumped. He
staggered under the force of the concussion,
but held on. It was a good catch
and a happy escape from injury, as the
train by this time had increased its speed
to a pretty good jog. No sequel.? Utica
Observer.
Aii Awful Struggle.
A stranger with a weak back walked
into an Oil City drug store the other day
and said he wanted the strongest kind of
a mustard plaster. "With a fiendish grin
the clerk built up a terrible mixture aud
passed it 'out. That night the inmates
of the hotel were startled from their
slumbers by loud cries in room iiftyseven.
When the door was burst open
they fouud the stranger wrestling with
t iat mustard plaster in Grieco-Romau
style. But the plaster had thrown him
twice, aud was now thumping him
against the wall preparatory to drawing
him through the transom. ' It took two
policemen to separate the two.
A Little Boy's Narrow Escape.
A six-year-old son of George Simmoup,
of Lancaster, tried to board a moving
train, but fell from the platform ami
was seen to go down under the car.
Spectators shuddered and turned away,
but the boy's pantaloons caught on a
projecting bolt under the car platform,
and he hun? there, between life and
death, unable to release himself. The
conductor ran to the platform, pulled
the bell rope with one hand, and with
the other reached down, seized the boy,
who was dragging along the ground,"and
drew hiin up alivo, but considerably
braised and with his clothes ripped to
pieces.
N