The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, May 29, 1878, Image 1
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ABBEVILLE PRESS
? -~ J 11 * ' . . "
BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, MAY 29, 1878. NO. 51. VOLUME
(xoinsj Home.
Where are you going eo fa<t, old man ?
Where are you goiDg so fast ?
There's a valley to cross and a river to ford
There's a clasp of the hand and & parting word,
And a tremulous sigh for the past, old
The beautiful, vanished past.
Thn rna/1 hn.R Vx??n TOf?p<?rJ nnrl rnnirh nlil
mac;
To your feet it's ragged and rough;
But you see a dear being with gentle eyes
Hap shared your labor and saoiiflee.
Ah! thathas been sunshine enough, old man;
For you and me, sunshine enough.
How long ranee yon pa?*>ed o'er the hill, old
man.
Of life? o'er the top of the]hill?
Were there beautiful valleys on the other side?
Were tbere flower J and trees, with their
branches wide,
To shut off the heat of tbe sun, old man,
That heat of the feverish sun ?
And how did you cross tho waves old, man,
Of sorrow, tho fearful waves ?
Did you lay your dear treasures by, one by one, ,
With an achingheart and "God's will be done," j
Under the wayside dust, old man
In the grave 'neath the wayside dust? |
There is sorrow and labor for all, old man; I
Alas! there is sorrow for all;
And yon, pc-radventnro, have had your 6hare, |
For eighty lODg Winters have whitened your
hair,
And they've whitened your heart as well, \
old man:
Thank God, your h?art as well.
Yoa'ro now at the foot of the hill, old man; i
At last at the foot of the hill.
The sun has gone down in golden glow,
And the Heavenly City lies just below.
Go in through the pearly gate, old man?
The beautiful pearly gate.
^BRICE.
Ho came up the mountain road at
nightfall, urging his lean mustang forward
wearily, and coughing now and ;
then a heavy, hollow cough that told its I
owe story.
There were only two houses on the ,
mesa, stretching shaggy and somber I
nri+V* nrroOQO.TTnnrl fmm fVlA of i
mountains to the valley below?two unpainted
redwood dwellings, with their ;
clumps of trailing pepper trees and tat- [
tered bananas, mere specks of civiliza- '
tion against -a stern background of raoun- !
tain side. The traveler halted before j
one of them, bowing awkwardly as the j
master of the house came out.
" Mr. Brandt, I reckon ?"
Joel Brandt looked keenly into the '
stranger's face. Not a bad face certainly;
shallow and drawn with suffering,
one of those hopelessly pathetic faces,
barely 6avod from the grotesque by a
pair of dull, wis ful eyes.
Not that Joel Brandt saw anything
grotesque or pathetic about the man.
" Another sickly-looking stranger outBide,
Barbara, wants to try the air up
here. Can you keep him ? Or may be
the Fox's 'ill give him a berth."
Mrs. Brandt shook her head in house- i
wifely meditation.
" No, Mrs. Fox can't, that's certain.
She has an asthma and two bronchitises i
+rm?v? nnrv What, io tlm mot tor Mn'fli him I 1
JoeT?" ~ ' ]
The stranger's harsli, resonant cough j
answered.
" Keep him ? to bo sure. You might j
know I'd keep him, Joel; the night air's ]
no place for a man with a ceugh like ]
that. Bring him into the kitchen right | j
away." I
The new-comer spread his bony hands j;
over Mrs. Brandt's cheery fire, and the j j
soft, dull eyes followed her movements ]
wistfully. j
"The fire feels kind 'o homey, ma'am; j j
Californy ain't much of a place for fires, 11
it 'pears.'" :
" Been long on the coast, stranger ?" j <
Joel squared himself interrogatively.
" 'Bon? a week. I'm from Indianny. ' j
Brice'8 my name?Posey Brice the boys j in
fl?A nrlaoo mill />allo/l ma T w?Q Klnwprl ' <
up in a glass once." The speaker j
turned to show an ugly scar on his neck, j
"Didn't know where 1 was for six weeks
?thought I Ladn't lit. When I come j
to there "was Loisv potterin' over me;
but I uJn't been hugged since." i1
I v'4 Harris!?" I
The man's answer broke through the j (
patient homeliness of his face at once, i
He fumble^ in his pocket silently like ;
one who had no common disclosure to
make. ' i
" What d'ye think o' them, stranger ?"
Joel took the little black case in hi
hand reverently. A woman's face?not
grand or fair even?some bits of tawdry ;
finery making its plainness plainer?and 1
beside it a round-eyed bov plumped into j
a high chair, and two little feet sticking ;
sturdily out in Joel's face. i
Mrs. Brandt looked over her husband's
shoulder with kindly curiosity. (
" The boy favors you amazingly about
the mouth, but he's got his mother's i
eyes, and they are sharp knowin* eyes
too. He's a bright one, I'll be bound."
"Tours, I reckon."
o f.Vint'a T.fiier and fli#> hnv " '
fightin. the conscious pride in Lis voice
like one who tried to do Lis honors :
meekly. ]
He took the well-worn case again,
gazing into the two facec an instant with j
helpless yearning and returning it to its j
place. The very way he handled it was
a caress, fastening the little brass hook i
with 8crnpulous care.
" I'll be sendin' fur 'em when I get \
red o' this pesterin' concjb."
A very quiet, unobtrusive guest Mrs. j
Brandt found the man Brice; talking j
little save in a sudden gush of confidence,
and always of his wife and child;
choosing a quiet corner of the kitchen
in' the chill California nights, where he ;
watched his hostess' deft movements
with wisfnl admiration. (
"Try hunting, Brice; the doctors
mostly say it's healthy." .
And Brice tried hunting as Joel advised.
Taking the guu from its crotch
over the door after breakfast, and wan3?!?
?? v i;i,?
UeriU? lur XiUUlO 1U cuc? jcnun Itxuc-imv
air of the mesa, he came in at noon and
nightfall always empty handed; yet no
one derided his failure. There was
pomething about the man that smothered
derision.
And so the hunting came to an end
without bloodshed. Whether the doctors
were right or whether it was the
mingled resin and honey of the sage and
ohaparrel, no one cared to ask. Certain
it is that the " pes term' cough " yielded
a little, and the bent form grew a trifle
more erect.
it 1L. 1 t-*_ >
' 1 XUIIJK llKCiy lid HIP JUOH.1U up, |
raa'arn. Mountains seem to straighten
a fellow some way. 'Pears to me some- j
l)ody writ once nv liftin' his eyes to the 1
lulls for help. Mebbe not, though. I j
ain't much at recollectin' verses. Loisy's j
a powerful hand that way."
Perhaps the man was right. It was the j
looking up.
He followed Joel from the table one !
morning, stopping outside, his face full !
of patient eagerness.
" I'm crittin' rieht smart 'o strencrth. 1
neighbor. Ef there's odd jobs you oould
Ki' me; I'd be slow, mebbe, but seems
like most anything 'ud bebetter'n settin*
round."
Joel scratched his head, reflectively.
The big brawny-handed fellow felt no
ilisposition to smile at his weaker
brother.
"{Fox and I was saying yesterday
-we'd like to put another man on the
ditch; it'll be easy work for a week, till
we strike rook again. Then there is the
grease-wood. It's always on haud. You
might take it slow, grubbin' when yon
was able. I guess we'll find you jobs
enough, man."
The scared, colorless face brightened.
"Thank ye, neighbor. Ef you'll be
as kind there's another little matter.
I'll hev a trifle over when I've paid your
woman fur her trouble. I wuz thinkin'
like enough you'll let me run up a shanty
on yer place here. Loisy wouldn't
mind about style?just a roof to bring
'em to. It's for her and the boy, you
know," watching Joel's face eagerly.
"Yes, yes, Brice, we'll make it all
right. Just take things easy. I'll be
goin' in with wood next week, and I'll
fetch out a load o' lumber. We'll make
a day of it after awhile, and put up your
house in a jiffy."
And so Brice went to work on the
ditch, gently at first, spared from the
heaviest work by strong arms and rough
kindliness. Ami so. ere lone, another
rude dwelling went up on the mesa, the '
smoke from its fireside curling slowly
toward the pine-plumed mountain tops.
The building fund, scanty enough at
best, was unexpectedly swelled by a
sudden and obstinate attack of forgetful- j
ness which seized good Mrs. Brandt. i
" No, Brice, you haven't made me a :
spark o' trouble, not a spark. I'm sure |
you have paid your way twice over [
bringin* in wood, and grinding coffee,
and the like. Many a man'd ask wages
for the half you've done, so I'm getting
off easy to call it square." And the good .
lady stood her ground unflinchingly. '
" YnnVfl hp?n nnworfiil tronrl tn me. i
ma'am. We'll be watcliin' our chance to !
make it up to you?Loisy an' me. I'll !
be sendin' fur Loisy direckly now."
" Yes, yes, man, and there'll be the
bits o' furniture and things to get.
Spread your money thin, and Mth. Fox
and me'll come in and put you to rights
when you're looking for her."
He brought the money to Joe at last, !
a motly collection of silver pieces.
" Ef ye'll be so kind as to send it to I
'er, neighbor?Mrs. Loisy Brice, Plattsville,
Indiana?I've writ the letter tell- !
in' her how to come. There's enough j
lor her ticket and a trifle to spare. The |
boy's a master hand at scuffin' out shoes <
and things. You'll not make any mistake
sendin' it, will yon ?" 1
"No, no, Brice, it'll go straight as a j,
rocket. Let me see now. The letter'll 11
be a week, then 'lowin' 'em a week to 11
get started? i
" Never you mind, man. Lowin' 'em
a week to get off, that's two weeks; :
then them emigrant trains is slow, say i
thirteen days on the road?that's about i
another fortnight?four weeks; this is tu..
lifL-u rr?i.
IUC ill til) ill" L 1U ; ouu J
five's thirty-three; that'll be 'bout the I j
third of next moDth, say. Now mind j
what I tell you, Brice?don't look for
'em a minute before the third?not one \
minute." \ I
"'Pears like a long spell to wait, l ]
neighbor." j 1
"I know it, man; but it'll seem a
sight longer after you begin to look for
'em." |
" I reckon you're right. Say four j
weeks from to-day, then. Like enough j
you'll be goin' in."
"Yes, we'll hitch up and meet 'em!
it the train?you and me. The women
'ill have things kind o' snug 'gin we get ]
bome. Your week'll soon slide along, \
man."
The southern winter blossomed royilly.
Bees held high carnival in the
nodding spikes of the white sage, and
aow and then a breath of perfume from
the orange groves in tho valley came up
to mingle with the mountain odors.
Brice worked every moment with feverish
earnestness, and the pile of gnarled
roots on the clearing grew steadily
larger. With all her loveliness nature
fr*.tttf\i\ ln'm Wliof nrna flio onni.
site languor of those days to him but so f
many hours of patient waiting? The I
lIuII, liuugry eyes saw nothing of the ! i
lavish beauty around them, looking j i
through it all'with restless yearning to 1
where an immigrant train, with its dust; 1
and dirt, noisome breath crawled over ' <
miles of alkali, or hung from dizzy i
heights. ^ ? b
" To-morrow's the third, neighbor. I 1
reckon she'll be 'long now direckly" ; I
" That's a fact; what a rattler time is." '
The days had not been long to Joel. ; ]
"We'll go in to-morrow; and if t'vy i
ion't come you can stay and watch the 1
trains awaile. Site won't know you, i1
Brice; you've picked up amazingly."
" I think likely Loisy'll know me if j \
she comes."
But she did not come. Joel returned !
the following night alone, having left ;
Brice at cheap lodgings near the station. '
Numberless passers-by must have no- ]
ticed the patient watcher at the incom- '
ing trains, the homely pathos of his
face deepening day by day. The dull j J
eyes grew a shade duller, and the awk- .
ward :orm a trine more stooped witti j
each succeeding disappointment. It: 1
was two weeks before he reappeared on J j
the mesa, walking wearily liie a man :
ander a load. !
"I reckon there's something wrong, :
ma'am. I come out to see ef yer man '
'ud wiite mo a letter. I hadn't been long i \
in Plattsville, bat I worked a spell for a
man named Yarnell; like enough he'd
look it up a little. I ain't much at j j
writin', an' I'd want it all writ out careful
like, you know." The man's voice j'
bad the old, uncomplaining monotony. I;
Joel wrote the letter at once, making
the most minute inquiries regarding Mrs.
Brice, and giving every possible direction
concerning her residence. Then
Brice fell back into the old groove, working
feverishly in spite of Mrs. Brandt's
kindly warnings.
' I can't stop, ma'am; the sittin' round
'udkill me."
The answer came at last, a businesslike
epistle, addressed to Joel. Mrs.
Brice had left Plattsville about the time
designated. Several of her neighbors
remembered that a stranger, a welldressed
man, had been at the house for
nearly a week before her departure, and
il. i i?J ?
Ilia IWU lUKl ?Uiio awnj uugouuor,
the western train. The writer regretted
his inability to give further information,
and closed with kindly inquiries concerning
his former employe's health, and
earnest commendation of him to Mr. :
Brandt.
Joel read the letter aloud, something j
?some sturdy uprightness of his own, !
no doubt?blinding him to its significance.
" Will you read it again, neighbor,
for I'm not over quick."
The man's voice was a revelation full j
of an unutterable hurt like the cry of I
some dumb wounded thing.
And Joel read it again. choking with
indignation at every word.
"Thank ye, neighbor. I'll trouble
you to write a lino thankin' him that's
all."
He got up heavily, staggering a little
as he crossed the floor, and went out into
the yellow sunlight. There was the
long, son-kissed slope, the huge pile of
twisted roots, the rude shanty with its
clambering vines. The humming of
bees in the sage went on drowsily. Life,
infinitely shrunken, was life still. A
more cultured grief might have swooned
or cried out. This man kdew no such
refuge; even the relief of indignation
wfl* denied him. None of the thousand
wild imnnlses that come to men smitten
like him flitted across his clotided brain.
He only knew to take tip his burden
dumbly and go on.
Day'by day the hollow oough grew
more frequent, and the awkward step
: t . I j
slower. Nobody asked him to quit his J
work now. Even Mrs. Brandt shrunk
from the patient misery of his face when
idle. He came into the kitchen one
evening, choosing the old quiet corner,
and following her with his eyes silently.
"Is tliere anything lackin', Brice?"
The woman came and stood beside him,
the great wave of pity in her heart welling
up to her voice and eyes.
"Nothin', mn'am, thank ye. I've
been thinkin'," he went on speaking
more rapidly than was his wout, " an' I
dunno. You've known uv people gettin'
wrong in their minds, I s'pose.
They wuz mostly smart knowin' chaps,
wuzn't they ?" the low. monotonous
voice growing almost sharp with eager- j
ness. "I reckon you never knowed of ;
any one not over bright gittin' out of !
his head, ma'am ?"
" I wouldn't think o' them thiDgs, i
T.?nt /?/v />?* rlA TTA111' Kqqf I
JLPJLJAJO* U UOb ftU \JU.J aill* uu JVUJ. -V.JV, I
and if there's any good, or any righi, or !
any justice, you'll come out ahead; J
that's about ail we know, but it's enough i
if we stick to it."
"I reckon you're right, ma'am.
'Pears sometimes tho' as if anything 'ud '
be better than the thinkin'."
Happily, it all came to an end one af- j
ternoon. Brice was at work on the i
ditch again, preferring the cheerful com- :
panionship of Joel and Bert Fox to his 1
own thoughts, and Mrs. Brandt was
alone in her kitchen. Two shadows fell !
across the worn threshold, aud a weak, |
questioning voice brought the good wo- ,
man to her door instantly.
" Good-day to you, ma'am. Is there |
a man named Brice livin' nigh here any- j
where ?"
It was a woman's voice, a woman with j
some bits of tawdry ornament about her, i
and a round-eyed boy clinging bashfully i
to her skirts.
Mrs. Brandt brought them into the j
house, urging the stranger to rest a bit j
and get her breath.
"Thank you, ma'am.- I'd like to be :
movih' on. Do you know ef he's well? I
the man Brice? We're his wife an' !
boy."
The woman told her story presently, I
when Mrs. Brandt had induced her to ;
wait until the men came home?told it 1
with no unnecessary words, as her list- >
ener made no comment.
'' My brother come a week afore we j
was leavin' au' he helped us off an' j
came as far as Omaha. He'd done well i
out in Nebrasky, an'*he gave me right
3mart of money when he left. I was
took sick on the road?I disremember
just where?and they left me at a town
with a woman named Dixon. She took
care of me; I was out of my head a long
time, an' when I come to I told 'em to
write to Brice, an* they writ, an' I
reckon tbev took the name of the place
from the ticket. I was weak like fur a J
long spell, an' they kep a writin' an' no I
word come, and then I recollected about
the town it was Los AngeleB on the
ticket, and then I couldn't think of the
place, I'd sent the letters to before, an'
thinkin' worried me, and the doctor said I
mustn't try. So I just waited, an' when
[ got to I^s Angeles I kept a askin' for
i man named Brandt, till one day somebody
said ' Brandt, Brandt, 'pears to me 1
ihere's a Brandt way over beyond the
Mission ' An' I went there an' they 1
jhowed me your house. Then a 1
nan give us 'a lift on his team a part o'
:he way, an* we walked the rest. It
lidn't look very fur, but they say moun;ains
is deceivin'. There's somethin'
iind of grand about 'em, I reckon, it
nakes everything 'pear sort o' small." i
Mrs. Brandt told Joel about it that I?
jvening.
"i ]ust iook tne two 01 tnem up i? r
:he shanty, and opened the door, and :
pou'd a cried to see bow pleased she
vas with everything. And I told her
o kindle a fire and I'd fetch up a bite o' }
supper. And when I carried it up and |1
eft it, I just come bo^k and Btood on i
:he step till I saw Brice comin' home. I
Se was walkin' Blow as if his feet was a I
weight, and* when be took bold of the
loor he stopped a minute, looking over
;he valley kind of wistful and hopeless.
[ guess 6he beard him come for she
jpened the door, and I turned around
rnd come in. ' Barbara Brandt,' says I,
rou'v seen your see. If God wants to
look at that I suppose be has a right
:o; nobody else has, that's certain."
Russian Wounded During the War.
During the late war thirty-six trains,
specially fitted up for the purpose, were
constantly employed in removing the
5ick and wounded of the Russian army
in Bulgaria and Roumelia from the
theater of operations into the interior of
Russia. Of these trains, twenty-four
were provided by the military authorities,
seven by the Russian Red Cross '
"inpiflfr ftpn V\T7 fho inrnoriol fnmiltr o n rl
v? v"" """'v
three by Germany, the average number
3f carriages in each train being twentyfour.
All the sick and wounded in Bulgaria
who could be moved were in the first
instance carried to Sistova or Simnitiza.
There they were placed in hospital,
their cases inquired into, their -wounds
bound up afresh, proper medicines and
food given to them, and then after a few
days' rest, they were transported in carriages
to the terminal Btation of the railway
at Fratesti. At the Russian frontier
a permanent commission of thirty doctors
was established. These examined
carefully all the patients that arrived,
and divided them into three classes. In
the first were placed those that were so
severely wounded or so seriously ill that
it would have been dangerous to move
them further. In the second class came
those who were only so Blightly injured
or unwell that they would probably bo
able to shortly rejoin their corps, and
these were ecbolonned along the railway
running into t^io interior; while in the
third class were placed those who could
be moved with safety, but who were not
likely to recover speedily, and these were
sent uacK into me neart 01 me country;
core being taken to assemble all those
ill 'with the same disease at the same
places.
Two of the ambulance trains started
for the interior every day, the doctors
and attendants accompanying them, each
being allowed fourteen days' rest after
each journey.?Pall Mall Gazette.
An Interesting Monument.
Among the various churchyards in the
city of Hanover is one which has been
closed for a number of years?the garden
churchyard. Owing to its antiquated
monuments and the fact of its
being the resting place of a number of
celebrated characters, it awakens the
liveliest curiosity. Charlotte Kestner
(Werther's Lotta) is buried here. This
is not the only interesting feature which
makes it worthy of a visit. Nature herself
has paid her tribute. A few paces
east of tne unassuming little church in
the graveyard is a monument tottering
from its foundation. It is built in the
form of steps, and the massive stones
are secured by heavy iron clamps. The
monument was erected in the year 1782.
Beside the usual family inscriptions, at
the base of the monument is engraved
these arrogant lines: " This sepulchre,
purchased for all eternity, is not permitted
to be opened." Opposed to
this determination of man, a beech seed,
perhaps carried by the wind, found its
way into a orevioe of the foundation. In
the course of years this little seed grew
to be a strong, luxuriant tree, mooked
the proud inscription of the monument,
raised the massive stones from their
foundation, and rent the strong iron
clasp aaonder.
JENGHIZ KHAN.
j The Greatest Conqueror the World Has
Ever Seen.
Temuchin, afterwards known as ?fengliiz
Khan, was born in the year 1162,
in a Mongol tent, on the banks of the
I river Oaon, one of tli$ headwaters of the
i Amoor. When he grew up, he did
I nothing of any importance, and was
| looked upon by his neighbors as an
1 ordinary kind of being. But the birth
; of Temuchin was not without its por'
tent, for a " clot of congealed blood like a
! red stouewas found in his clenched fist."
! At the age of thirteen he lost his father,
1 and became the head of several associated
tribes, but some of these fell away
from him, and he had at once to enter
upon a career of warfare which ended
only with his death. In the year 1206
his power had so greatly increased that
he resolved "to proclaim himself the
ruler of the empire." So he called an
assembly of chiefs at his birthplace on
the Onon, assumed the imperial title,
and, at the request of the assembled
' ' 1--1- 1L _f T? T7Unn
CilieiH, IOUK. lilt) LiUUlC Ul UCUj}UlL uunu I
or " Perfect Warrior." Then he con-j
ceived the idea of attacking the Kin I
dynasty, which reigned in Northern j
China, and of avenging the wrongs
which he believed himself to have suffered
from that power.
Jenghiz Khan died in the year 1227,
in the sixty-sixth year of his age, and
was buried in the valley of Keleen, north
of the Desert of Gobi. He had "forty
wives save one," and he had six sons.
Jenghiz must undoubtedly have been a
man of vast ability, and was perhaps
the greatest conqueror the world has
ever seen. It is apparent that he possessed
that characteristic of great men,
the art of selecting able assistants, of
attaching them to his person, and of
imbuing them with his own spirit and
energy. His early wars nad accustomed
his Mongol followers to victory, and
gave them that sense of superior prowess
and that faring spirit which almost ensure
success. On the other hand, his
opponents were dismayed bv his victories,
and were horror struck by the cruelties
and wholesale slaughters in which \
his armies indulged. It was his spirit
that animated and set in motion the vast
armies which accomplished sach wondrous
conquests; but he worked through
able lieutenants, whose campaigns and j
successes depended more upon circumstances
and opportunities than upon j
settled plans of conquest devised by !
Jenghiz himself. As the head of a j
mighty confederacy of warriors, the con- j
quests effected by his armies are attribu- ,
table to him, and he must also bear the j
everlasting odium of having caused the j
slaughter of millions of human beings; !
but some of his greatest victories were |
achieved, and some of the -worst massa- !
ores perpetrated, when he was far ab- j
sent and could have had no immediate !
directing influence.
It is remarkable that the Chinese 1
writers say very little about those whole- 1
sale and indiscriminate butcheries which
figure so prominently in the writings of |
Mohammedan and other historians.
According to Mr. Howorth, who no
doubt had authority for the statement,
" 18,470,000 human beings perished in
China and Tangut alone at the hands of
Jenghiz and his followers." Chinese
authors tell of armies most imposing in
many thousands?in one instance of as
many as 80,000?on the field of battle ;
and the sum total of the slain, if it could
be arrived at, would reach a very high [
number, but nothing approaching to the I
almost inconceivable total of eighteen
millions and a half. Once, and once .
only, are we told that the Mongols, j
after takinp certain cities, "butchered i
0 ,
their inhabitants." This silence about i
massacres cau hardly be accounted for
by the supposition that tbey were so
common as to escape mention. Writers
who frequently took care to record the !
numbers who fell upon the battle-field
would have been equally if not moro
careful to mention any cold-blooded
slaughters which followed. These
authors were not indifferent to Mongol
savagery; they speak of supernatural
warnings whicn Jenghiz received against
" blood- shed ding " and "slaughter,"
but there is nothing to show that this
meant more tL- n the carnage of battle.
In China it was apparently the common
practice of the Mongol armies " to carry
away captive men and women," for the
conquerors were comparatively near
home, and the prisoners had perhaps a
value as slaves which saved them from :
slaughter. Of the general character of
the Mongol warriors, however, the records
are too numerous to be set aside.
It is incredible that 700,000 people lost
their lives, as stated, in the massacre at;
Mery, 1,747,000 at Nishapoor, and !
1,600,000 at Herat, bnt much as we may ;
diminish them, the enormity of the ;
crime is in no.degree extenuated, and if i
the Mongols rank among the greatest
warriors of the earth they are equally to
be classed among the most brutal of its
savages.
A Cat's Fierce Attack.
The New York World says : At the j
beginning of the winter Mrs. Sager, a !
German woman, who lives in the tene- I
ment house at No. 22 Sherman avenue, !
Jersey City, remarked to her husband
that their rooms were overrun by mice, I
and asked him to get a cat. In com- j
pliance with her request he one day
made her a present of a cat. It was a
large-sized cat, entirely black, with the
exception of a white spot on the breast,
and it had such gentle eyes that it
\ 1.1. ~ ?4. I
speeuny uecumtj mo pet ui wc muiuj, i
and waB the favorite plaything of the
youngest member of the family, a boy j
of three, -who wns in the habit of rnb- !
bing its fnr the wrong way, pulling its !
tail and doing all sorts of things to it!
which ordinary cats do not allow to be
done to them. Besides being an ornament,
the cat proved to be useful, as it
drove all the mice out of the rooms.
Last week it presented a litter of kittens j
to a grateful family, who promptly I
drowned them. Since then a change i
was observed in the cat; its tail shunned |
the fingers of the baby. On Sunday j
afternoon the cat slept for some time in |
the cot of the baby. When it woke up 1
"? * J 1L I
it uttered a meiancnoiy moan, uuu muu |
walked gloomily into a corner. Mrs. j
Sager took pity on it, and pouring some ]
milk into a saucer, offered it to the cat.
The latter turned its head away at first, !
then it gave a fierce cry and leaped with '
stiffened tail and distended claws upon
Mrs. Sager's breast. "It flew on me :
like a bird," was the way in which Mrs. j
Sager described the movement. The !
cat held itself tightly on Mrs. Sager by
sinking its claws into her dress and then
tried to bite her neck. It failed in this,
but succeeded in burying its teeth
deeply in her right arm near the elbow.
Mrs. Sagcr's three chldren ran into the
room attracted by hor cries, and man
aged to take tne cat on wieir motner. i
But the cat appeared to have become j
crazy and attacked the three ohildren. ?
Nettie, aged twelve, was bitten on the j
nose and cheeks ; Lou's, aged four, on !
the legs, arms and hands; Margaret, f
aged nine, was slightly bitten on the |
foot. The attack was so fierce that Mrs. j
Sager and her children ran out of the
room, leaving the cat alone. A message
was sent to the police station, and an
officer went to the house and shot the
cat after an exciting hunt. The wounds
of Mrs. Sager and her children were
cauterized and no serious result is apprehended.
The only member of the
family who was not bitten is the baby.
Mr. Sager at the time was away from
home.
A Garden.
Everyman, however limited his means,
should contrive to have and cultivate a
garden. There are three Btrong reasons
for it:
1. Working in a garden is highly conducive
to health. The exercise is gentle;
it is united with a.. u.;cment, and by it
both the body and the spirits are invigorated.
There is something in the odor
of the earth that strengthens the whole
syBtem. Let the sedentary man take up
the pruning-knife and spend an hour of
the dewy morning amongst his vines, or
the spade, hoe or rake and prepare or
work over his asparagus, lettuce or radish
beds, and he will thus give tone and
vigor to his body and his mind for the
severe studies of his desk. The teacher
will all thfl hfitter: the minister
will preach all the better for the mind
exercise which the garden gives. For
this natural employment of the bones
and muscles of the system an hour or
two's practice in the gymnasium is but
a miserable substitute, since the healthimparting
exhalations from the ground,
as well as the interest and variety are
wanting.
2. The garden is a teacher. There
Nature is ever at work, producing her
most beautiful forms and transformations.
No man can witness attentively
the germination of the seed, the uprising
of tke blade, the unfolding of the flower,
the maturing of the fruit, without at the
same time becoming wiser, nobler, and
better. The vegetable, the mineral
kindoms here meet and work together.
To tne curious every step in ims wording
offers something fresh for meditation.
Why, for instance, does the plumula ascend
? Why does it incline toward the
sun ? Why does it aesume this or that
tint ? Why does the sap arise in it ?
Why does this plant take to this kind of
nutriment, another to that ? Why is a
thorn given to this vegetable, an acrid
juice tothisand honev to that? Why
does the dandelion shoot forth in the
spring and the aster in the autumn ? Why
is this leaf orbicular, this heart-shaped,
this finger-shaped, this needle-shaped?
Why is this plant mediciual, this poisonous
? Why is this flower fragrant, this
scentless ? And a thousand other curious
questions constantly arise to awaken
thought.
3. The garden is a source of profit. I
Vrntro tnnum a man wlm realized as much
from what he sold from his garden of I
one-half acre, as his bard-working brother I
did from what he sold from his farm of
more than one hundred acres. It is said
that & man consumes about sixteen hundred
pounds of food per annum. How
much of this could and should come
from the garden ? "I can buy my vegetables,"
says one standing by, and who
calls in the doctor frequently, " cheaper
than I can raise them." Not so, indeed,
I answer, if you take into account the
health and instruction imparted by the
garden. Then it is so delightful to
see your own lettnce, radishes, tomatoes,
melons, peas, beans at ; sweet corn
growing." It is so pleasant tj go out and
pick with your own hands your own currants,
grapes, pears and peaches. And j
what if you happen to raise a few such !
things to give away to your poor neigh- I
bor ? Does it not all come in for profit ? I
- 1- ?"UV. I
A garaeu men promotes yuur ucumu,
imparts instruction and greatly helps to
sustain your table. It helps other people
also. Some things you can afford to
do without, but I see not how you can
live a really happy life without a garden.
Do you??Cor. Qer. Telegraph.
?,
I
Two Fearful Diseases,
Speaking of "a sanitary measure of
more than ordinary importance, not only
to the southern seaboard states but to
the country at large, recently passed in j
the form of a bill to be known as the [
'National Quarantine Act of 1878,' the I
object of which shall be, by means of
an efficient uniform national system of
quarantine, to prevent the introduction
of contagious or infetious diseases into
the United States," the Scientific
American says:
In Afiiatic cholera we have a disease i
caused by the access to the alimentary
canal of a specific form of organic
poison, which is portable, communicable,
and capable of reproducing itself in
everybody in which it obtains lodgment.
It always has its origin in Hindostau;
and whenever it appears outside of the
limits of that country it is absolately
certain that is an exotic. It was in 1756
that the fact was first recognized that the
disease is a periodically returning
twelve-yearly epidemic, connected with
the twelve-yearly Hindoo festivals at the
great temples. The pr a vailing direction
in which the epidemic always advances
from its birthplace is to the west and
north, always proceeding along the lines
of the greatest and most rapid travel;
and at each periodical recurrence, extending
its limits and spreading itself
over an increase of territory. It made
its first visit to the United States in
1832, starting from Quebec, where it
had been introduced by ten or twelve
Irish emigrant ships. From this time
on its periodical returns have been
pretty uniform; and judging from the
past, we should expect another outburst
either during the present or next year.
In our next contest with the epidemic,
our whole safety lies in efficient quaran-i
tine and thorough disinfection.
As of cholera, so we may say of yellow
fever, it comes in every case from without;
there is no spot in the United
States where it is indigenous. Its birthplaces
are the West Indies, tlie South
American coast, and possibly, Vera
Cruz in Mexico. From these neighboring
countries it evades almost every
summer our sea-board cities, and occasionally
produces a desolation such as
words fail to describe. This disease
made its first appearance in this country
in 1668, and from that time down to
1877 it had vipited us seven hundred
and forty-one times, spread its ravages
to two-hundred and twenty-eight cities
and towns, and extended to twenty-eight
states of the Union, causing 65,311
deaths counted?besides the innumerable
deaths of which no record was made.
Of all these numerous apperances of the
* 4~ ^5 ^^^4
disease among ub, xuri/j-uvo pci uwt,
are directly traceable to foreign origin.
Depths of Lakes.
A foreign paper publishes an interesting
comparative statement of the depth
of lakes. Among European lakes the
Achensee, in the Tyrol, hea;ls the list.
At some points the depth of this lake
amounts to 2500 feet. The greatest
depth of the lake of Constance is about
975 feet, that of the Chiemsee about 458
feet, and that of the Wabhen and Kon*
igssee, 611 feet. The measurements
made abQut 1870 at the Dead Sea showed
that at the deepest part its depth is 1,836
feet, but if we"consider that the level of
this lake is already 1,394 feet below the
level of the Mediterranean, then we find
-that the total depression in the soil here
amonnts really to 3,230 feet. The Lake
of Tiberias is extremely suauow in comparison
; on its eastern part the average
depth iB only twenty-six feet, while on
the western side it lies between nineteen
and twenty-two feet. In Lake Baikal
depths have been found which for a lake
are truly astonishing. In the upper
part of the lake the depth is 10,800 feet
(about the height of Mount Etna), but
downward the bottom constantly descends,
and near the opposite bank the
depth amounts to 13,230 feet. This
j depth far exceeds that of the Mediter'
ranean Sea, which at its deepest part
I measures only 7,800 feet.
FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
Recipes.
Beef So vp.?Boil the soup bone until
the meat in quite tender, pour the broth
in a kettle then rub an egg into dry flour
and mix thoroughly until the noodles
are quite fine, then add them to the broth
slowly, stirring until all are in; boil fifteen
minutes, season to taste. |
A plain boiled Pudding. ?Slice up a
loaf of bread in tbe morning and pour
milk over it. Let it remain so until half
an hour before dinner. Then beat up <
ioar eggs very iignt, ana mix mem wuu
the milk and bread. A teaspoonful of :
yeaat-powder is an improvement." To be served
with sweet sauce. Twenty minutes
are sufficient to allow for the boiling. <
Apple Dumpunos.?Quarter and core 11
one apple for each dumpling; then put 1
the parts together, with sugar in the '
middle; surround each apple with pie '
crust; if you wish to babe them, put '
them on a pan like biscuits, and set them '
in the oven. If boiled, tie each in a 1
separate cloth, and boil for half an hour. <
Serve, both baked and boiled, with '
| liquid sauce. <
I Lemon Pie.?Grate the rind of one j
| lemon, squeeze out the juice; beat the '
I yolks of three eggs with four tablespoon- '
fuls of sugar; add one cup of milk; stir 1
all together and bake with an undercrust; ]
| then beat the whites of your eggs to a !
froth, add one very large tablespoonfni |'
of pulverized sugar, pour over the pie
and brown in the oven. This makes one
pie.
To Cotin Beef.?For fifty pounds of
meat allow ten pounds of salt and three \
ounces of salbpetre; rub each piece of |
meat with a portion of this mixture and j
lay it in a cold place over night; on the j
next day repeat the process and again j
lay the meat in a cold place until the I
following day; to the balance of the salt
and saltpetre add a potfnd and a half of
brown sugar, half an ounce of potash and
four gallons of water; boil the brine for
fifteen minutes, (then skim and set it away
to cool; on tne succeeding morning pack
j the meat, having first wiped every piece
j perfectly dry, pour the brine over it and
put a heavy weight on top to keep it
tinder; examine often, apd if there is the
least indication of the meat not keeping ;
1 "well turn off the brine, boil and Bkim it |
and add more salt, or else make a new !
and stronger brine; let it get perfectly
Virt/rvx/i frtminrr nxrar til A mPflt,
I 1/U1U UClUig UUimiJg VI V* vuv aMivv"vf
Farm Note*. 8
Loppered skim-milk is good feed for *
barn-yard fowls. J"
According to Lawes' tables, the manure
of one ben fed with the usnal 0
quantity of grain, is worth about forty- j
seven cents per year.
In 100 pounds of dressed pork there j,
are usually fourteen pounds ham, sixteen
pounds ehoulders, forty pounds ^
sides, sixteen pounds lard and fourteen j
pounds waste. The hog products are
now lower than they have been since v
the war.
No feed produces finer flavored milk, c
butter, cheese or hams than parsnips, c
and no roots are botter relished by hogs B
or bovines ; 700 bushels may be grown t
per acre. *]
From a ohemist's view, the roots of a
an acre of clover contains 185 pounds of ii
nitrogen, 240 pounds of lime, forty-five A
pounds magnesia, seventy-five pounds a
potash, ten pounds soda, twenty-four p
pounds sulphur and seventy pounds I
phosphoric acid. f
A farmer of twenty-five vears' experi- a
ence finds that it pays well to roll pas- F
ture as well as meadows, wherever the j 8
frost has loosened the grass roots. It c
may be well to scatter a little grass j ^
seed on the bare spots. ! J
TT- ?1? 1?--??? Iiim (n?tvi lmnlompnffl ! ?
ne wuu uuudco mo imm , ^
in the corners of fences, whose fowls ,
roost in the trees during tue winter, E
whose manure-pile leaches into a roadside
ditch and who tripes his nose on his
coatsleeve, makes piteous complaint
'1 that farming don't pay."
A acre of soil one foot deep contains T
4,000,000 pounds. An average acre of i
American soil six inches deep is esti- ]
mated to contain 17,333 pounds of pot- E
ash, 12,500 pounds lime, 16,000 1,
pounds magnesia. 6,000 pounds soda, ?
2,730 pounds sulphuric acid, 4,000 ^
pounds phosphoric acid, and 500 pounds f(
chlorine. i v
An English grape-grower, whose vines p
were much affected by the mealy bug, i
applied, with a small brush, a mixture h
of a pint of spirits of wine and four v
ounces of petroleum. He describes the ! b
rAsnlt, as " wonderfulthe insects were | c
destroyed and the plants suffered no t
harm." e
Hens In the Orchard. p
Speaking of keeping hens in orchards,
the Poultry World says : Last fall we
visited an orchard in which fowls were
kept, the owner of which told us that v
before the fowls were confined in it the t'
trees made little or no growth, and a a
corresponding amount of fruit was ob- ii
tained. Bat what a change was evident o
now. The grass was kept down, the a
weeds were killed and the trees present- r
ed an appearance of thrift, which the s
most enthusiastic horticulturist could
not but admire and envy. The growth d
of the trees was moBt vigorous and the p
foliage remarkably luxuriant. The fruit e
was abundant, of large size, and free c
I-*** wAttma on/1 nUinr imnorfflp.fcinns. li
This excellence was accounted for by the n
proprietor, who remarked that the' 'hens t
ate all the worms and curculio in their 1
reach, even the canker - worm." He t
found less trouble with their roosting in a
the trees than he expected, and that a \
picket fence six feet high kept them r
within bounds. His orchard was divided b
into three sections, and the fowls were t
changed from one to another, as the condition
of the fowls or the orchard section s
seemed to require.
How a Day is Gained and Lost. fl
Questions are frequently asked as to *
how a day is lost or gained in going
round the world. Professor Davidson "
gave a popular explanation of the phe;
nomenon to the Academy of Sciences. ?
j He started a traveler westward from 1
London, or rather from the meridian of
I n-rpATiwi>h nrfip.iflfil v at noon, and he .
made him travel round the globe at pre- J
j cisely the rate of speed that the earth J
carries us eastward in its daily whirl of ?
twenty.fonr hours. The tfaveler is al- J
ways in local time at meridian ; he
goes round the globe in twenty-four B
hoars, and it's always noon with him. 1
At New York his application of time |J
agrees with the clocks of the city, but \
his watch, which was at twelve, noon,
when he left London, is now five r. m.
He goes still westward, and in long- I
itude 120, the border meridian of I
Nevada and California, ho is still at ?
noon locally, and his watch indicates (
Greenwich time to be eight p. M. In (
longitude 180, the sun is at meridian. 1
and the time occupied by his journey is f
twelve hours ; and in the longitude of \
No rtonnroq ftiVlitfipn honrs have '
ruw ?o ; # ,
elapsed ; and continuii^ bis transit to 1
Greenwich he has still the sun in me- "
ridian, and finds that twenty-four honrs ]
have been lost. The rising and setting 1
of the enn for one day has been wit- 1
nessed by the people of London and
not by the traveler. Actual time ia the !
same, but in his case the division has .
not been marked.
In one of the relief camps in India recently,
among the famine-stricken natives
brought in was a full-grown man,
large limbed and big made, who weighed
forty-five pounds.
The History of Pews.
The first oeata provided in churches
are seen in those of some Anglo-Saxon
and Norman edifices still standing in
England. They consist of stone benches
which project from the wall running
around the whole interior excepting on
the east end. In 1319 tho congregations
are represented as sitting on the ground
or standing, and it was at this period
that the people introduced low, rude,
three-legged Btools promiscuously over
the church. Not until after the Norman '
conquest were wooden seats brought j
into use. In 1287 a decree was issued, '
in regard to the wrangling for seats j
(which had become a decided nuisance), J
that no one should call any seats in the j
church his own 9icept noblemen and j
patrons, each person taking the nearest j
empty seat he could find, as he entered I
the church. From 1530 to 1640, as we J
approach nearer to the reformation, J
3eats were more generally appropriated, '
their entrance being guarded by crossbars,
and the initial letters of their own- i
?rs engraved upon them. But directly i
ifter the reformation the pew system 1
commenced, for there is extant a com- i
plaint from the poor commons addreesed !
io Henry VIII. in 1546, referring to his j
Jecree that a Bible should be in every !
Jhurch at liberty for all to read, becacse j
;hey feared it might be taken into the !
;'guyre" or some "pue." Galleried in '
hurches were not known until 1608.
As early as 1011 luxurious arrappe- !
nents were conside^d essential in ;
5hurch pews, and thi.y ,?er6 baized or j
jushioned all over their sides, and the
teats furnished with comfortable cush- !
ones, while foot-stools were also intro- 1
iuced. Next the sides of the pews were
nade so high that they entirely concealsd
the occupants from view. Fireplaces
vere also built in the pews, and every !
)ossible convenience added for the com-!
ort of the highly-favored few. But the I
lervices were often so long and tedious I
hat the listeners fell asleep, and fre- :
juently nodded their approbation of the i
ninister's sermons, while they were to-!
ally oblivions of its teachings. Swift's 1
ines, which we quote, allude to the pre- j
railing fashion of church upholstery: !
"A bedstead of the antique mode,
Compact of timber many a load,
Such as our ancestors did use,
Was metamorphosed into pewa,
Whioh still their ancient nature keep,
By lodging folks disposed to sleep."
With the rei^n of Charles I. the reaons
for the heightening of the sides of
he Dews disappeared: and from the civil
car they declined to their presentr
leight.?Springfield (Mass.) Republian.
'he Great Bazaar of Constantinople.
After threading a narrow street,
ined with shops of the tobacconists,
on pass, it seems, nnder an old archray
festooned with vines, and arrive in
ront of a large stone edifice, throngh
?hich runs a long, straight, covered
ray, flanked by dark shops and crowdd
with people, cases, sacks, crates, j
anisters, caddies, and heaps of mer
nanaiee. jtiere you are mou ujr ou
trong an odor of drugs and spices
hat it almost hurls you backward.
?his is the Egyptian bazaar, a sort of
nte-chamber to the great mart, wherea
are gathered all the Indian, Syrian,
irabian, and Egyptian wares, that,
iterward reduced to essences, pastes,
owders, and unguents, go to dye the '
aces and figures of odalisques, to perame
rooms and baths, breaths, beards, '
nd dishes, to reinvigorate exhausted 1
lashas, calm unhappy wives, stupefy
mokers, and to spread dreams, intonation,
and forgetfulness over Sfamboul.
liter advancing a few steps you feel
our head swim and retreat; but the
ensation of that warm, heavy atmophere,
and those inebriating perfnmee
ollows you into the outer air, and re- J
aains vivid in the memory as one of the
aost powerful and significant impres- j
ions of the East. Presently you reach j
he bazaar proper, which is an immense j
1 1 In/vVl <YrflTT I
COD0 structure, icuuou wuu u^u i
rails and surmounted by hundreds of I
ittle cupolas, perforated to let in a dim j
ight on the interior spaces. This is |
lot so much an edifice as a roofed
abyrinth of arcaded streets, bordered j
>y sculptured columns and pilasters?a j
eritable crypt-liko city, with mosqnes, i
ountains, crossways and squares, along j
rliose thoroughfares press not only foot j
?assengers, but carriages, sedan chairs, ;
lorsemen, and camels. There are a j
lundred little bazaars embraced in this
sst enclosure, each kind of goods
laving its particular quarter, its street,
orridor, and square. Every one of
kese compartments is odd and piotursque,
every shop door the frame of a :
dcture full of color and fancy.
How Edison Amuses Himself.
Edison, the phonograph man, is j
wretched unless he invents half a dozen I
hings every day. He does it just for
musement when regular business
3n't pressing. The other day he went
ufc for a little stroll and he thought out
, plan for walking on one leg, so as to
est the other before he had gone a
quare.
He hailed a milk wagon and told the
[river of a little invention that had
topped through his head just that moaent
for delivering milk without getting
iut of his wagon or even stopping his
lorses. A simple force pump, with hose
ttached, worked by the foot, would do
he business. Milk men who dislike to
lalt for anything in their mad career
tecause it prevents them running over
s many children as thoy might otherwise
do, would appreciate this improveaent.
Edison isn't sure but that sauage
and pigs' feet could be delivered in
he same way.
He stepped into a hotel office, and oberviug
the humiliations which guests
encountered in seeking to obtain infor- I
nation from the high-toned clerk, he j
at down in the reading-room, and in !
Ive minutes had invented a hotel olerk
o work bj machinery, warranted to
tand behind the counter any length of
ime desired, and answer all questions
rith promptness, correctness and suavty?diamond
pin on and hair parted in
he middle if desired.
He went through the barber shop of
he hotel, and as he did so he sighed to
.1 I ?-11 l-io "iinino ami nrflft.
limK WILLI nil I1ID guuiao M?4\%
ive imagination, he could never hope
o equal the knight of the razor as a
alking machine. This saddened him
10 that he went home and invented no
nore that day.?Cincinnati Saturday
Wight.
An Aerial Spy.
Mr. W. B. Woodbury has recently
proposed an ingenious idea for taking !
ihotograph's of an enemy's works from I
' l-' Ll i
i baloon, withont necessiwiiiug m? proa- ;
;nce of an aeronaut in the car. Electri- i
jal wires are run along the cable by ;
yhich the air ship is held captive. Initead
of a car a box is provided, inside
>f which another box is pivoted eo that
t will keep horizontal. In the inner
oox is the photographic apparatus, and
iver the lens is an ebonite shutter
moved by the current, to open or shut
instantaneously. There is also a sensitized
tissue on rollers in rear of the lens,
which is operated by clockwork, also
controlled by the ourrent. When the 1
ballcon is elevated to the required j
height, the lens properly focused and '
the tissue in position, the shutter is set
in motion by the current, giving instantaneous
exposure. A poiograph is thus
obtained, and by further controlling the
clockwork fresh sensitized surface may
be exposed and additional image* takes.
DETROIT JUSTICE.
Two Sorrowlnjr Ilcarta?A Peddler'* Threat
?A W'eiiry-Hearted Man. (
THE SOBBOWINO HEARTS.
Henry P. Warner, a bachelor of forty,
| met the widow DeKalb in a hardware
I store a few months since.
The widow was there a kettle to buy?
The old one had got a bad crack.
And Henry called in the dealer to aok
If he had a shilling boot-jack.
Henry was struck with the widow.
She blushed, and let him pat her safely
aboard a street car. To make a short
story long, they soon loved. He learned
that she owned a house and lot, and she
learned that he had a farm in Wiscon- a
in ana a tnoubana aouars in tne nan&.
They would have been married ere this t
but for a gadding gossip, who nosed
around until she found out that the r
widow didn't own anything bat a dog, 0
and that Henry was even in debt for his
liat and boots. She took care to post
each one, and Henry made a bee-line ^
for the house and called out:
" Base deceiver I"
"Oh! you old fox in the swamp 1" "
promptly replied the woman. a
"You want me for my wealth 1" he
shouted. 0
"You haven't enough to buy a sas- ^
sige with I" she screamed.
" Gimme that engagement ring I" I
" I'll give you a cuff." b
She pushed him off the steps and run
him out of the yard. She had her head 0
ont of a broken pane, and he was " boss- 0
ing" over the fence, when along came
an officer and harvested him in.
* 'Don't you feel ashamed of yourself 1"
asked his Honor as he looked down upon
tho nriannor
" She's the one who ought to hide tl
her invidious face in perfidious shame1" r<
hotly replied the prisoner. "She wanted aj
my wealth?she was playing the base
hypocrite 1" lj
"And you wanted her house and ci
lot?" . {?
" No, sir! I calculated to give that
house and lot to the poor as soon as we
were married. Oh 1 the base boss basilisk."
* w
" Did you love her, Mr. Warner ?" ^
"I did I She was my sunny star? my .
beacon light! T ie dream has been "
shattered?the golden sun has gone c<
down in the darkness of midnight I" 1
" Well, you'll save a heap of pork and
potatoes," sighed the court as he pow- g
dered up a peanu-< shell between his w
thumb and finger. "Y ju come under h
the head of 'heart broken,' and you can I
go. You'd better let widows alone after
this." tl
"I will?I will I If I ever love anoth- p
er widow I hope to be spiked fast to the K
sidewalk 1 Heaven will reward you for gj
tout merciful mercy toward one whose
bounding nature has been severely R
shooken with a shock."
ci
Tread softly, shed a tear?
Heave one regretful sigh; ?!
We love to-day, to-morrow?well, 8
We find 'twas in our eye.
"bexe."
SI
Johnson McOlurg buys potatoes for "
thirty cents per bushel and drives around ?
and sells them out at forty. He was
making a sale of a peck to a woman on
Brady street, and was just remarking 2,
that he prided himself on handling the
plumpest, fattest, mealiest potatoes ever 01
dug from the soil of America, when a ! ai
man came along and called out that;m
eight quarts made a peck. The fuss j
ofarf-orl fVioro ThA nriunnflr AT- I nt
plained to his Honor: ^ id
" He halted, and sez e eight quarts pi
make a peck, and sez I 'tis so, ana sez e cs
you are trying to cheat a poor orphan, tt
and sez I you go 'long, and sez e I'll not
move till I see fair measare, and sez I fc
who be you; and sez e you are a fraud w
and a liar, and sez I I'll prove to the w
contrary, and sez e I'll mop the ground n
with you, and sez e?" u
"That's plenty," interrupted the court. 8,
" Now, then, how many quarts were you
giving her for a peck ?
" Haight, of course."
" Full measure?"
" Tne biggest kind o' measure, sir."
" Then what was wrong ?"
" Nathink, sir?only the man thonght *
I wasn't going to allow for some papers
which had slipped into the measure." p
" Ah ! the tine is five dollars, Mr. Mc- t
Clurg." ci
"Beside the pounding I got? It's ^
awful, sir 1" ^
" Can't shave those figures a bit. We &
give honest measure here."
The prisoner paid his fine and walked
out. When clear of the door he called .
back; .
''Qqttoti nrtorfn will mftlrfl a TJftck with ! .
me for the next year to come !" I **
<53
NOT A OHABM. pi
Dennison Col'e came to the station and ! ty
aeked to be sent up. st
" Haven't you any work ?" asked the!
court. j ra
"Not an ounce," was the mournful m
reply. ai
" How's your appetite ?" oj
" All gone?all gone ! I don't believe fl,
I could eat a mince pie i> I was paid for ic
it " | si
" II you go up yon can't eat any early
onions." Ic(
"Nevermind?i'm willing to put up
with the sacrifice."
" Root beer will soon be on the fizz j1(
and harvest apples will be seen in the
land/^ suggested the court. r(
" Wtiat does a weary, iauumg m?u | ^
care for fizzes and roots and beers ?" de- j w
manded the man.
"Batthe circus season has opened, L
Mr. Cole." | b
" I don't care for 'em?I never have j ^
money to go." j?
" Don't you love to sit on the curb- |J?
stone and see the sprinkling carts go a]
past?" 81
"No." g
"Don't sit around the ferry dock to "
see heart-bioken girls jump into the
river ?" si
"Not a sit." jd
"Mr. Oole, has life no charms for in
you?" b
" Not a one?not as much as you can j 1^
put on the p'int of a hair." I w
"Well, I'll send you up. They have ! d
a new buck-saw and sixty cords of wood, j li
and you can?"
" Say, Judge, I guess I won't go up I" ! e
suddenly put in the prisoner. I p
" I guess you will!" | ii
'' i ? _ nr j. _ /I t T?? ?*M A I _
JUUf?e, 1 m OQ IU \jauuuui I x m ui a 8
hurry?I'm?I" t
"You are booked, Mr. Cole, and e
when you reacli the last cord of that i il
hickory wood, drop me a note and sign j d
it 'Affectionately thine.' Trot along, ja
my little man."?Detroit Free, Press. a
Geographical Mispronunciations. t
Des Moines, instead of Da-Moins, is j *
oft called Dez Moines. Chicago is mis- 1
called She-caw-go. California pronoun- [ *
ted Kell-ee-for-nee, (and thro' the nose |8
at that.) Iowa miscalled Ioway. Cal- 14
houn should be pronounced Ca-houn. j ?
Buena Vista should be called Bona Vis- ; J
ta, aud not Buna Vista. Louisa is not ; c
Loo-i-see instead of Loo-e-sa. Cairo is *
not Kaa-ro but Ki-ro. Russia is Rush-a, !
not Roo-sho, and Prussia ditto. Paris ; t
should not be Pare-is. Vienna is Ve-' 1
en na. not Vi-en-nee. Baden Baden not *
Bajdeu Biiyden, nor Rome Room. Mi- j ^
lan Bhonld not have the accent on tho i}
first syllable. Italian is It-al-i-an, not c
I-tal ian. China and Chinee should not t
be pronounced alike?nor Africa be call- i t
ed Afrikee, nor America Amerikee. Don ] c
is a Spanish title; Dora a Portuguese? j e
therefore, Dom Pedro. 1f
Items of Interest,? -L ^
Handicraft?GLove-ipaking. aj{T,
Dr. Mary Walker is forty-eight year*
>1<L
Rejected manuscript?Notes at pro- *:2
est.
A popular sovereign?one pound stering.
-
Deadwood, in tbe Black Hills, is 4,823
eet above the eea.
America d igs up $81,000,000 worth of
fold and silver per year. ' .j?|
It is consoling to read that dentists'
ools are constantly improving. The
swan's down, which ladles sigh
Iter, is plucked from wild geese. v
India robber tires for wheels are
lecoming quite common in England,
In an ounce of mud there is the mate*
ial for a diamond, a sapphire and an
pal.
A little Cairo (111.) girl nine yean old
} the champion checker player of that
Dvra.
"money, says an exuuaugc, us uo
lissing link between our subscribers
nd the editor.
A Texas young lady raised three bales
f cotton on five acres, doing the work
rith her own hands.
A German woman at Connersville,.
ad., recently gave birth.to five fine
oys. The quintette are doing welL . ;r
A Rochester editor's wife has killed
tie burglar, wounded two tramps, put *
at a big fire and delivered a lecture. -
" The birds are now upon the wing," ;
The teacher read; the papil heard;
"Oh, no," said he, "it seems to ma '
The wings are on the bird."
A man of seventy married a miss t ' -J
le same age at Brunswick, Me., ..
joently, and gained a mother-in-law
jed ninety-two. .
It is a pleasant thing to see roses and
lies glowing upon a yoong lady's :
leek, but a bad sign to see a man's
ice break out in blossoms. ,' '
Question for a debating faociety.?"If
man has a tiger by the tail, whidh
V?? Konf. fnr hid rKuwintl -Safe*
j?to hold on or to let go?"
The total number of domestic fowls
i Massachusetts, as taken from the last
msus, is 1,056,900, valued Ct $625,064.
'he egg product was valued at $908,857
Why wouldn't Oleomargarine do for a
id's name??Cincinnati Enquirer. If
e had a little girl and hadn't any but
er, we would call her that* ?Richmond >
ndependent.
Col. Forney says that there are over s
lousand millions of dollars held in the
rivate banks of England, drawing not
lore than one per cent, interest, held
inply for safety. "
At Taylorstown, Pa., a cow owned by {
:obert Hall, farmer, gave birth to fifty ?
in aiira ftnm nin to VT.,
U VCD, xaugiug u ? p- -possums.
The cow died shortrpafter
iving birth to the calves. / .-p
A lady in Texas saw an advertiwmehl^'^^j
i a New York paper of an opium core.
be sent for it, took it, and died in oonllsions
in less than an hoar. The
ew York physician has Been arrested.
The average daily wages earned by
042,209 workingmen, as shown by the
st census of 100 cities of America* was
lly ninety-seven cents, and each had
i average of only 180 days' employent
a year.
Tennyson may seem to be a man of '
ern dignity; and to have no ideas below
yls forty feet long, bat yoa are rea5ctfully
informed that he keeps an oil
in and oils the hinges of every door in
le house, every Monday morning. ? *
Mr. Gesner of San Francisco, claims
) have discovered a chemical which,
itli any existing machinery, freezes
ater, with one-tifteenth the pressure *
pfvwurv when ether or ammonia is
sed. ~3e proposes to ice an acre of
irface for a skating rink.
When the violet drinks the first sunbeam,
And fondly the orioles pipe,
How bright doth the little boy's gnn beam
As he goes o'er the meadow* for snip*.
Ah! steatbily wanders the truant
By the marge of the reed-fringed flood,
Then wends (to a licking pursuant)
Home, covered with mnd.
The'duelling pistols usdd by Aaron
;urr in his dnel with Alexander Hamil>n,
are said to be in the possession of a
tizen of Louisville. They were left to
im by his uncle, an army officer, who
imself purchased them from Burr for
500. It is asserted that they have been
aed in eleven duel*.
A brutal mother threw her five years'
id boy from a bridge into the river at
Milwaukee the other day, and leaned on
le railings to watch the death struggles,
eelaiming: "If your father won't supart
you, drown!" The child's clothing
aoyed him up until the horrified byanders
could rescue him, .
The famine in the north of Chins 9
?mA.oaoinff oavorihr and thfl
kgtTO WILLI iUUCUOJUg wvfwv|
oat dreadful reports come from the
flicted regions. In one town a man
pened a shop for the sale of human
ash, and did a good business, until the
cal mandarin interfered by causing the
lopkeeper to be beheaded.
A young and estimable lady of Cres),
Iowa, when dying, requested that
er parents, who resided a short dis- aince
from her home, be summoned to
sr home that she may bid them a last *
.rewell. They refused to go, and also
;mained away from the funeral because
le lady had married against their
ishes.
"I should like to live to draw two
reaths after I am acquitted, and then I
onld die satisQed," said John Smart of
iurnet county, Texas, who had lain in
iil nearlv a vear on a charge of murder,
ad was brought into court on his couOh,
ck. At eleven o'clock the verdict "not
uilty " was brought in, and at twelve
le old man died.
"Is it becoming to me?" asked she, as
le paraded in tho costume of one huu?
red years ago, before the man who is
ot her lord and master, but is her husand.
"Yes, my dear," said he, meeker.
"Don't you wish I could dress this
ay all the time?" Bhe asked. "No, my
ear," he replied; "but I wish you had
ved when that was the style."
Man is intended to draw in fresh air
very time he breathes. Almost all peo>le,
when in their houses, and the workag
people in their shops, breathe the
ame air over and over again. To show
he necessity of allowing fresh air to
nter rooms, and the bad air to escape,
t may be stated that every person,
luring each minute of his life, destroys
. quantity of air twice as large as himelf.
This ib the way one of the ladies who ,
telonga to the Atlantic's Contributors'
31ub remembers tilings: "General
Forrest was buried the day my new nai
same home. Hayes was inaugurated the
pring I made over my old silk. Dickjns
died .when Jenny was a baby. Linioln
was killed when Alary was creeping.
Che civil war broke out when Sallie waa
jutting her teeth. The King of Spain
ras born the year I was married."
An extraordinary romance recently
iranspired ftt the Liberty (Ind.) poor
lcmse. For some time a woman 01 botmty
yeara Iiuh been kept as a panper,
vbile employed as a farm hand was a
ronug man of twenty-six years. A few
lays ago the keeper was informed by
ii? young man tbat he wished to marry
;he old woman, ami notwithstanding all
jpposition and advice the affair was conmmmated
and the parties are living to*
?ether, apparently in all happiness.