University of South Carolina Libraries
. /L..: . H ? ? *^ " V'^ '?^ ^> ' * ' _* *" ; ; . * < ? , X ? ? ." " ; ' . ; III f < .') M 'I; ;.". " ."^Qj* '.I L -li w ! i ' X *J M- * .. " N - ? V* ..,/: ?' 'H - : ?!0i.SiBEVILLE PRESS W BANNER. ; # 4 * ~~ 1jj|jj^jHttG^ WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 31, 1880. NO. 43. VOLUME XXV. ' ' ' I ? nr?iit?Tin? ?>imr ! I IK n Fli U ?VTfVP 1 VP A VT I Ilv th? ^trpftm. ' , The Marked Grave Bowie's rangers, out on the trail, Had galloped from early dawn; But the prairie road was cool and sweot And green as a garden lawn, And the strong air stirred the blood like wine? The strong air, sorted with flowers and pine ' Silent and stern and ready to fight, Hiev followed the Indian foe, Till Bowie cried: " Let the bridles lull, For the sun is sinking low, "Wo must feed and rest or we shall fail, Though fifty miles ou-the Lipan trail." They hkd reached the grove of mighty oaks, I Into the shadows they went; The saddles were loosened, and beasts and , v men Were glad of their leafy tent. Said Bowie: " JusUake your rifle, Hays, ryiad see toow the land around ns lays." . \&J( &.X, A The youth went forward with head-up step; Came back with a quicker tread. "Captain, I found beneath yon oak ?? HOnito iton'.t m ? W His saddle and whip beside Lira lay, B Lreckan his horse has strayed away." . I ' J i /T / T f . ? . : Tee, dead he lay sn the blowing grass, Lay sleeping like any child, One arm was under his curly head, , , H?.liptt?tiUJaintly trailed. . Booted and spurred he bad gpn? to rest, a But lookod like ft man that death had blessed. Thera wa^noffii wound, or Jftatk, or stent, x Thore'was not aline to tell From -^heaoe he aaxue, or wbat was -hits name, a J X i k * ? < Nor where he was wont to dwell. "Well, no'inatter," ?aid Bowie, " because Where woknow nothing at all 'Cod knows!' " y t They dug aim a grave beneath tfce awe, And Boiiffe^iA ft bunting kqile, Cnt in ittftiving bark the dato S V/beatl|l s&Kertteppajji irom Hfo. "Apikltiimihg down, ifch A solemn pause,- j , Cot under the date two words: - "God knoiip!" ?Lillie t. Barr, in the Independent.^ J3IW8 .8JJWA.I r;.:0 A:> -? ZS1; ! .J ..it 1 ' '1TTpr . His First and Last Diggings. v What ifi this'dilapidated old book? I An heirloom?" asked my friend, who ] for the last half hour had been looking over mv library. . . t : i " Oh," no," I replied, " that is no heirloom, but ^om?thing. which I., prize as highly as.if I eou Id prove that Ifr1 came over m the Mayflower. If you would like, I willexplaiirit to you. Dfaw tip your on^^iyiud, taking the book. . "'and if, in- my own. interest, I get tiresome, stop me, I beg of you." ?'I BaVe aJway^ called this my 'College Register.' In iny sophomore year Jlcoaai-wd tiie idea of keeping in my room this book, in wlfich I'asked everybody coming to see me for the first time to write their name, with the date. My friends were not bored but once, and. if the tnrable^ofr writing their names caused-tbem % little'annoyance at llifrj! time, I am sure that it t?ey knew lUf 1 amount flff pleasure the, possession of j ihefa>mgataph| ; has'given me since. J they wouKneel amply rep'ain. A good : deal of fun was made of me at the time, j hut that has all passed, and the book i remains the most powerful reminder of j my college .days. When I look at the i ^ names of the good fellows written here, j 11 SOIUULiUiCD DCUU13 *i j. a , student, with no care but that of prepar- ! r in? my recitations for the next day. I But enough of that; let us get to the in- i side. Often it anywhere?familiar names i are on every page. ."'.George H.^Adams, January 15,! I846J* He was ft fine fellow, son of a I widow living in the town. He worked j his way through college, and had a hard J time of it. but he succeeded, and is now j a Mjcoeaafttl buftUK-ss man in the south- , , SS3F?iEl&trfa? ?v * ! '"Louis M. Huntington, March 3, | 1847.' >L;re7?'infesr;him very well, for i h(* c:itiie to my^roOTri but once. He was ; a baa?d?ome, fhsrfpatiggialiow; always j a favorite in sbcietybecause of his easy, ! fraceftil manners f.nd his fine voice. I > ave often wondered what has become I of him, But.I have never been able to j find him outrtts i lost sight of him very ( soon after we graduatedT "Leonard Meredith. February 26, 16^6.1 'Jthat nama.dagerves more than a passing notice; he life and mine have in frfet ailTetly over my 'heftd, there roomed a young man whom I had seen ?? f 1?a onH in tlm Italia r\f*nnr building; . He was callo^ Meredith by the instructors,-and1 tfest was all I knew of him. However, I -liked his looks, and determined to know more of'him. So, one evening I went to his rooA, under the pretext of borrowing something; he received *ne itya most cordial manner .jAd Snti&5i6ap.od me what I asked. We easily dropped into conver*Mr* sation. and he was so entertaining that I remained an hour or more. Whenever I spoke.U jhoticei tbat he^^pt his eyes fbcediupctfi my Mate?large; deep brown- ev#, with Varafsj, feager lookln triem. indeed, liis whole face expressed an earnestnessanddetermina- | tion wMchfa^h mc completely. I told , him 'rtMt T^rootrfW ftght'under him, | and asked; stop-in anytime when I he w:is going by. " Attar jWng foEOiim fai' month, I determfhra roHry*again.rtT was re-! ceived in..the same,cordial manner as ! before, and when I asked him ^y he ; had not been to see me; he frankly con- ; fi-ssed that he was afraid of meeting a j croyd of fellows there, which he always avoided, if possible. I talked I with lAyp^fcfaer classmates abwrtahim, " I had also noticed that Meredith, although quite talkative when I whs i with hira alone, became suddenly verj I quiet if another person joined lis. 1 attributed this peculiarity to diffidence, but I soon found that I was most completely : uusjtujityi, for; Lefifiard was al- j ways at !iij?easV< ana ajtiiough by no I means forwwd,-hexould n?t be called | diffident. nwT,r ' " The more I knew and saw of Leon- j ard Meredith the morel liked him, and finally, on February 26, 1846, he came I i to my room and wiote hfci nara6 there in my 'register.' From that time we bei catue bettif aoqoaiHtfid, rftnd he used to come to my room often when he know mat I was alone. On one of the 'evenings when he was with me he told me the'reason why h? shunned general society. I had never suspected it, nor would you, had you known him. He told me'that he was almost totally deaf. I could hardly believe him. His voice was as perfectly modulated as yours or mice, and then I had been talking with him more or less for a whole year, and ? i 1- 1:1- t? *i. I nun never once suspecieu ijik inurmiby. Lip-readirg was not so commothenas It i? completefyastowiwiea^iwmTW cfmrtne tuat 1 be could understand what a person saia by watching tlie movements of their lu>3. If there wertv n>ro or three in the company, lie was unable.to look quickly * enough /torn one person to another in order to see what he said. This explain edn i s rather peculiar conduct. "After Leonard had told me of his infirmity .jcuxr friendship grew stronger, and' we gradually became almost insep{ embie. Our walks were always, taken ? t< (pettier, ana auringone ox inem, on a beautiful spring Jiiternoon, be entrusted' u> me another secret. 1 knew that he was In the habit of H visiting one family in the town, and it wh3 the only place outside of college I had never guessed the attraction which f drew him there. " In one part ot the house, ho told me, < there lived a brother and sister, who I were orphans, and these were the per- s sons whom he viaited. The brother was 1 an invalid, and it was probable that he c would never recover. The sister, Mar- t garet Wadsworth, was most devoted to c him. taking entire charge of him. She t was accustomed to read to her brother a ^ great deal, and it was in this way that t Leonard had been able to assist her. 1 All this was mere preface to Leonard's r secret, and by this time I had guessed t that ho was in love with Miss Wads- I worth. It was so indeed, and they were b engaged, but with no immediate pros- a pect of being married, although Leonard f wished it as soon as he graduated; but li .Margaret was not willing that he should b encumber himself, at the beginning of 11 his career, with the care of her invalid j d brother, who demanded also all her time ! o and attention. I saw that Leonard was n in great earnest, and, although he longed to claim Margaret as his wife, his love c for her would not allow him to urge c anything against Ifer wishes. t " In a few days after our confidential t taiK i^eonara asKea me n i woum can t with him upon Miss Wadsworth and r lier brother. I was very much pleased j] that he should show me'that attention, b and I eagerly accepted. n "Leonard led the way to a little cot- t tage in a retired part of the village, a where the brother and sister lived, d They occupied only a part of the house, v as their moans would not allow them to b do more, and Margaret wished to have n somebody else in the house, in case she 1; had need to cftll anyone. Leonard gave h a couple of little raps on the door, and fi 3soil we heard some one runnine lightly ii own stairs to let us in. Margaret e Wadsworth opened the door herself, and ^ Leonard introduced me as ' My friend, n Will Bennett, of whom you have heard h me speak so often.' By the manner in d which Miss Wadsworth gave me her t< hand I knew I wtis welcome, and her d ?yes fold me that any friend of Leonard's hud a claim upoD her friendship 1< I i & \ 1 L 4 i 8 ir ' 'She led the way upstairs to their j u Bttle sitting-room. We paused a mo- tl ' - - a., j ?,j t ???n 111 mens in uie uwrwaj, uxiu i u-ran tA- ? actly how the room looked to me then, b with the marks of Margaret's graceful and artistic nature displayed every- ii where. A dark, modest carpet coverid t< the" floor, a wood fire burned on the ii hearth, and on a low, broad touch, by u E curtained window, lay the invalid. By i his side was a small table with an open I t j book, face downward, as if some one j tj had just ceased reading, and a lamp, | ( ) with a crimson shade, which shed a I a] solt, subdued light through the room, j ]J Between two of tlie windows stood a j low bookcase, and among the knick- w .nacks upon the top was a vase of flow- jr era, which I. immediately knew-must |); have come from Leonard. jt ^SAe^W.'futered'the room, Margaret went'to the1" lounge 'to arrange her | e, brother's pillow and to tell him that we j jy had come. As she walked across the j g[ room, I had an opportunity ,to iook at ; \J her more minutely. The way she had | bi of arranging her brother's piliow and of j speaking to him showed at once what i a gentle, beautiful disposition she had. 1 Her large gray eyes were full of aflec- ' w tion, as she said in a low, sweet voice, h, 'Albert, Leonard lias come and has , m hrlpujrht hifc friend, Mr. Bennett. , Would you not like to have the lounge ; b, moved a little, so you can see them?' 1 Albert did not speak, but smiled eon- 1 w sent; a sweet, patient smile, and so ; much -ike his sister's. j jy "As we were saying good-night I : Gj asked Albert if I might come and re i fc to him when Leonard could not. Hi a] face lighted up with the same smile, a 7j he said he never cot tired listening to ] tc his favorite authors. I used to go fre- ' ^ quently after that, when Leonard was j j busy, to read to the invalid. It became j one of my greatest pleasures, and I i.. thought it was entirely my desire to do j good, but I now know that a more selfish ! mntirrn i n fl 11PT1 fV>H V?1P Sfimpwllftt. " Leonard's love for Margaret was as ol sincere and pure as her's was for him. w They were most devoted to each other, pi but with none of that sickly sentiment j m ality which you so often see nowa- fr days. ! it " Time went on, and with it our ' friendship increased. We formed a | ^ very happy quartette in the little sit- j CJ ting-room at Miss Wadsworth's. I " generally left Leonard and Marga-et to- j w getlier, wtiue i aevoiea niyseii ?j ai- | bert. He was no better, but bore up j under his affliction with great fortitude j aI and set an example of self-control to w me particularly, who was to need it so I ^ sorely. i w 44 At last the spring of '49 c-ame, and j we were making preparations to grad- . . uate. Immediately after, Leonard was j to leave for California. For the last; few month3 his health bad been failing, j ( and the physicians told him that an en- ? tire change of climate with some active out-door work was necessary Jor his complete recovery. He was unwilling =? to leave Margaret, but she urged it so strongly, and I also advised it, that he | finally consented. California seemed , the place for him; the gold excitement j was at its heicht, and he Hoped that J al while seeking for his health he might | Mi also find.his fortune. j m " I went to the nearest city to read jlaw, but always managed to see Mar- | Sl caret once or twice a week, for Leon- ; t. ard's sake, 1 said to myself. t "We received ?ne letter from Leon- o) ard, mailed at the Isthmus. He said Q] that the sea voyage had done him much * J * - la. 1 1. -ti J s. L gOOfl, ana ue it*it aioiusi lucmieu tu ic- l turn. What a difference it would have j made in my life if he had ! "The damp chilly days of October ti had come. We had not yet heard of j gl Leonard's arrival, and we naturally (;j felt a little anxiou3, but the uncertainty ti of the mail9 at tliat time would account w for the delay. .. The change in the \v weather began to tell upon Albert; he r< a;row weaJcQr/and no- longer tock the } same interest in the books which we | p read to him. I told Margaret, one day, j w that I feared her brother's end was near, j ir I found her prepared for it; indeed, she ' h had realized it, but Juid not the courage j to speak of it. Po^r girl, he had been a ^ care to her all her life*yet, when she d was called to part with him, it seemed u almost impossible to give him up. | j; " By the first of November A lbert left, U6. After tlie last duties of love wer6 n performed, I took Margaret back to her w little home. Tu as gentle a manner a9 I s: could, I asked her what her wishes were tl and how I could aid her. She said that ^ she would wait for a letter from Leon- c ard, to see what were his prospects. If she could go to him she would, hut if Ii that wits impossible she should look for a some woik to do until his return. Her e little fortune had been almost exhausted t by her brother's long illness, and by the i a necessarily heavy expenses at the last, j p Un that account she felt obliged to do something for her own support, but she j y I liorl aiaAiinr)i mnnon loft tr\ tol*n lmi* f rv uau muuvj Ull w?v ?w uvy , California, if that seemed the best v I course. j f " I admired her courage, bi"avt girl. , 1) There she was, all alone in the world, | c with no one but her betrothed, who was I f three thousand miles away. I admired j f her courage, but I loved herself. It was I the first time I had admitted it to my- j 1 self, although I had recognized its influ- ' 1 I ence. 11 " I felt it necessary that one of us ' should go awuy, because I was doing 1 Lwrnnra an injustice, since I oould not i longer treat Margaret as a friend. I thought this all over on my way back to ( the city, and resolved to go abroad and 1 study, if Margaret did not go to Cali- f fornia. i "Little did I know that my course 1 was all marked omt for me, as soon as I should get to my rooms. There I found on my table a small package and an envelope directed to me in a strange hand- i writing. Inside were two letters, one 1 rom Leonard, and the other in the same vriting in which the envelope was a limited. There was but a word from ^ i ..eonard, and as I read it, my heart stood chir ti 11. 'I entrust Margaret to your care.' wjtl; riie writing was Leonard's, but so rGpa hanged; it looked as if it had been writ- try i en with the greatest effort. I was so mus vereome by reading these few words 0ffH hat I forgot all about the other letter. sflor Viiy should Leonard entrust Margaret even o me? Was he dead, and she free? forej ?he thought flashed through my or g( nind like lightning. I eagerly seized his < he other letter and read it at a glance. Httl ..eonard was dead, and his death caused The] iy his infirmity without doubt. It was p0rt: s I feared. Feared, when Margaret was hard ree, and I could rightly sue for her men land. I was completely overpowered rjou< ?y the contradiction of feelings in my ship >reast. My grief for my dearest friend's for . eath was in strong conflict with my \y00 wp seltish feelings that Marcaret was. the s nine?mine if I could win her. Sp}cl " I took up the letter again and read it had ' arefully. It was written by a friendly unde ainer who had been with Leonard at Chin he time of his death. He had gone to Hi he hydraulic mines to try his fortune the r here. A morning or two after he ar- abou ived he was working under a project- A co as mass of earth ana rock which had one c ipen loosened by the water. The other proje ainers saw this mass tremble and called ing u o Leonard to run from under it; but, a erf las, he could not hear them?he was mak< eaf. The earth find rocks cjme down over, nth a crash, and partially buried him; lots iut he was rescued while life still re- abaft aained, and taken to a neighboring form louse, where everything was done lor baml iim that was possible. But all in vain, to si )r he died within the next twelve bono ours of some internal injury. How- hcacl ver, he was con-cious to the last, and llrect note these few words, entrusting to lllus, le what was dearest to him on earth; calen e also requested that the little gold dowi UBt which' he had found should be sent hips a me, the result of his first and lasl is its ig?ings. and i " I learned all this from the minar's slide ;tter. It was written in strange lan- snow uage, and still stranger spelling, but give ~ 4 r*\\ rtv+flfmf ttaII nrtlllH COO I Tnrlf I1UC1 L11U 1 UU^Ii lAttllWl JVU VVUiU kjvv/ *_/HV4\ bat there was ona of the kindest of self J earts, always ready to aid a fellow- wher eing in distress. penal 44 Leonard's friends in the little min- raisei lg town sent the gold with the letters Sam, > San Francisco, where they were given .the 1 i charge of a merchant on his way hung last, who brought them to me. firep] "After rereading the letters, I satin ^?ns lought for a long time. At the end of ? j lat time, let me say it to my credit, I j lought only of Margaret's deep sorrow .po1 " tid my great loss in the death of "aTe eonard Meredith a Pm ''The next day I went to hpr. How 1 'as I to break the news without break- ? ig her heart? She had just lost her s"ujj> i-other, and now to lose her lover was raP'P ideed very hard. . sculle 41 This was the severest trial I had Pr?Je rcr been tlirough, and when I told "1C| [argaret the burden seemed more than ie could bear. The hope of seeing wind oonard had carried her through her th.es? rother's denth, but now no hope was ft, and she was alone. gethe - * * -? ' -> ~ -i n - form "1 was resolved mat sue snouia norr nger remain in the little college town, . ^ here everything reminded her of her niSBt rot her and Leonard. I urged her to iovc into the city, and she consented, 11 1)61 :>cause she thought she would be in a itter position to eet work. " How I longed to tell her that there as no need oi her working! It J " Through the influence of friends, expei [argaret was soon offered the position new : : governess in a family going abroad pose < ii* three years. She consulted me 000 ai )out accepting the place, and I ad- elude ised her to, by all means. I was loath tana, ? have her go away, but what better I Coioi ling was there for her than a change Calift f scene? Wasl " I continued in my law studies, was ritorj Imitted to the bar and practicing for has y yself when the three year3 appointed and i1 ir Margaret's absence had passed. come " In the meantime I heard Irom her suppl rlen. Shrf wrote, in a bright, chatty surve ay, which showed that she was im- this t oving both in health and spirits. In with v letters to her, I tried to write as a wouli iend, but I know that my love showed consii seif in spite of me. By-and-bye I withe ncied there w:is a change in her let- plain! rs. I was unable to tell whether this area lange meant that she was offended at valle; le love which I could not conceal, or, tion, hat I scarcely dared hope, that she the n: as learning to love me. not r " I met her at the dock as she landed, land i id hardly knew the Margaret VVads- tion < orth of old. The lines of care had avail; >ne from her face, and, although she tent, as three years older than when I saw grow ;r last, she looked as much younger. quire " I will not burden you further with the si ito- T wnnpd and won her. but if vou for t ill notice the wedding-ring on "ray coulc ife's hand, the only jewelry she wears, rado :>u will see that it has a richer, deeper land, >lor than ordinary rings, because it to th as made out of his first and last dig- rigati ngs. Cong ?i . . .... ing f propc The Untold Story. enter The morning was warm and bright, ipaen id the robins were whistling in the tion ees behind the hospital. The sun that lishei lade the morning so mild, streamed in fount , the half-curtained window and borin zhted up the wan fpaturers of a poor the a ifl'erer lying on a cot in the lone ward. expr< , was a young man, and he was a ?an b ranger in the city All that was known the p f him was that he had been found early mour lie morning lying beside the railroad riculi ack with his lower limbs crushed and atten leeding. He was taken to the hos- r ital, and when he recovered sufficiently, sunk, s said that he had fallen beside the ack weak from hunger and loss of eep. His eyes brightened as ft sister 01 rnrity entered the ward, and he asked Xh nit his cot be pushed near the window, Lieut inch being done he begged that the for ? indow might be raised. The sister ?fust*d. beint " Please, please raise the window," he ftn(j f leaded? " it will not be for long, and I j)orn rant to hear the birds sing this morn- fo0th lg. Raise the window, good sister; I Qf th< ave something to tell you." discL With some misgivings the sister did w,th 3 she was requested, and the patient firecj ragged himself upward with great pain Cnga: ntif his arms rested upon the sill. after 'hen he spoke with difficulty: fortu 44 Ob, what a happy day this was to on ] ave been for me. 1 knew the bin's Qeor rould aing to-day. I knew they would to Co ing for Mattie and me to-day. Hear? savs hem?out?there?in the tree??oh! ? Ye l:ittie. Mattie, I was innocent of the v0;1 ri-." i eithc The poor fellow was exhausted and upol] is head dropped upon his thin, wasted first rms, while the tears flowed from his 8tro]j yes. The sister gently raised him from e he position iDto which he h:id fallen, poul< nd prepared to lay his head upon the to tl lillow. # Johr " 1 am much to blame for aliowmg swol ou to talk- You must be quiet, now." 0f hi " No! no!" he whispered, hoarsely. "I passi rant to tell you now. have only a si10U ew minutes to wait, we were u>? c:im< iave been?married to-day. I was?ac- broti used (oh, will the pain never leave me mUcl or a moment)?quick! see, here is her hati'i >icture." , were The sufferer's breath carae faster, and Valel le grew paler as lie tore away a small _an oeket fastened with a cord around his Mon leek. ?Nc "Sendit to Mattieand say that?God cnows I was an innocent. The address s ?." A The noor boy's head fell upon the win- natr low-sill, but the bright sunbeams could grea )ring no warmth to the face that was thee .'rowing icy cold, and only He who and nade tne sun to shine knew the story ner, hat was left untold.?Detroit Free Press. i T1 [t Is the short men who should get inch iiarried. The long ones don't need to side be spliced.?Zou/eZJSun. thei: The Boatmen of Shanghai. V correspondent of the Boston Jourivrites: The floating population of 1a is immense; and one is struck i this at every port. To build and fa ir their vessels is a branch of indus- is ] have never seen, described, but it di t be enormous. Millions, probably, pi milies live in them and never go on g< e. There is no craft so small, not gi the 44 sampan" that attends a m gn ship, but has room for its idols di )ds. before which the owner burns w 'joss paper." I will digress here a d< ; to teu of the boatmen of Shanghai. p< r are mostly from the distant sea- c< 3 of Ningpo and Swatow, being of a ui ier race and better sailors than the sp of this province. By some myste- w s telegraphy they know when a ct is coming, and several lie waiting w i job at the 44 red buoy " outside gi sunc. Bach one has the name of it hip he served last painted in a con- | m leus place aft. The one I engaged le "Halloween" and his name,"Sam," tl: rneath. Sam is a cognomen all tli ese boatmen glory in. di s sampan, wjyich is exactly like all di est, is about sixteen feet long, and w t the shape of a halt peach stone, gc upieof guards run around it, as to b: vf Kfflo ofnrr?_Txrhppl afonmpra Tn, icting aft over the stern and bend- th ip at the extremities like the horn of vi scent. What this is for I cannot pt ? out. The forward half is decked is , and under this deck Sam keeps m of things. The midship section tr ; this is not decked, but has a plat- pi , and is roofed over, the rool of bi boo and matting arched from side re de. Under this roof is the seat of ar r. On the floor is a rug, and over- al .ire fre?roes taken from Harpers, su ly, The Illustrated London News or to !rated Zcilwng, or an illuminated m dar, many of the pictures upside dc 1; all begged from the different cii S:im has attended. Over this roof w i exact counterpart made to slide, an vhen we are seated Sam will gently tei the whole thing over if it rains, pc or the wind is raw and cold, and us ft wrap to cover our limbs with, ne x this at night Sam arranges him- fa for sleep somehow or other, and, pr 1 religious, worships his " lares and di :?cs." Abaft the seat and roof, of d a little, is the standing place for or or poop deck, where he pronels lei >oat. He unships this deck when st< ry, and there are underneath his th ace, kettle and other domestic be lis, and there he cooks his rice and ro th lust not forget to tell how they pro- ke leir boats. It is by sculling. They no a gigantic oar which they poise on th on the stern (nobody but a China- dtsan do it), and by means of a cord th bed to the oar and the boat, they ra or " eulo," as they call it, at a very foi rate. Vessels of a larger size are >d this way, by means of beams , cting from the sides, to the end of 0f li an oar is attached. The tides at WJ ghai run very swift, and the winter a . s are furious and piercing; but 'srt fol 1. .wo o/.iill rio'Vit nlniity iUHV/ITO t3VsVA*4 ? '5"" "3*?"-'- |Qj and tide. When all moored to- fj r at some wharf for the night, they a j a large community, and discuss jt rents of the day or gamble half the i. There is nothing done within miles of Shanghai but they know ore any one else. ?a ex 1 Plan to Reclaim Desert Lands. lias lately heen proposed to sink imental artesian wells UDon the md arid public lands for the pur- su jf irrigation. There are 900,000,?res in the arid region, which in- tr} s Arizona, Dakota, Idaho, MonNew Mexico, Utah, Wyoming, po ado and Nevada, and portions of co >rnia, Kansas, Nebraska, Oregon, th rington, Texas and tbe Indian Ter- a 1 . Not one per cent, of this land thi et been sold by the United States, wj ; must remain unsold for vears to unless some means are found to W y it with water. Government yo ys show that 2'K),000,000 acres of sel ract are mountainous, where even wl an abundance of water agriculture it i be impossible. An equal amount ru 3ts of lava beds?" bad lands pri >Ut soil or vegetation, and desert w* i of drifting sand. This leaves an of 500,000,000 acres oi plain and ' y land susceptible of high cultiva- he and wanting only water. Under i lost favorable conditions probably mj nore than three per cent, of this ch i:an be reclaimed bv the ultiliza of rivers and small"streams now . able. The remainder, to some exis utilized for pasturage, but tha 1 th of grass is so scanty that it re- so 3 from fifteen to twenty acres for nil jpport of each head of cattle, and th ,his reason the land, of course, I not "be profitably sold. In Colo- a { alone are 40,000,000 acres of this cu capable of producing twenty-five irty bushels of wheat per acre, if ir?d. The people of the West desire ress to appropriate $50,000 for bor- ,jj( irtesifm wells, the land being the ;rty of the government. Private prise will not undertake the exper- "X t, but let the practicability of irriga- 01 by artesian^ wells once be estab- ra 1 and private purchasers will be I who will carry on the work of of g at their own expense. Some of th blest geologists in the country have ini ?ssed the opinion that flowing wells na e obtained in many localities on th lains east and west of the Rocky itains, and the commissioner of agture. under whose auspices special tion has been given to the subject, 0n ecommended tiiat artesian wells be pf .?Boston Ecrald. pr i th qu A Duel on Horseback. in e Earl of Glencairn challenged th ;enant-General Sir George Monro r<r rossly opprobrious language used p m toward the Highland troops, aa j " no other than a pack of fcieves th obbers." They met in a field near hi oeh. by gray daylight. They were well mounted on horseback; each U1 am were to have one pistol, after ev larging of which they were to fight Q1 broadswords. The pistols were without doing hurt. They then ?ed with their swords, and " a few passes my lord had the good yc ne to give Sir George a sore stroke re tiis bridle-hand, whereupon Sir ge cried out that he was not able W mmand his horse; "and I hope," " he, " you will fight me on foot.1' P1' carle," says my lord, " I will let know that I am a match for you * r on foot or horsebak." W h ere- CI l they both alighted and at the bout my lord gave him a sore :e on the brow, about an inch above te yes, which bled so much that.he i not Bee. His lordship was going in ? 1 KnHr Kilt. 11^ lrUSL lllill bli 1 uu^cn buv 4j, muv i White, his man, pushed up his a' d, and said: "You have enough w ra, my lord." His lordship, in a ion, gave John a stroke over the P1 ldera, and then took his horse and P* i to his quarters. Monro and his Her went to headquarters, but with li ado, for the bleeding at head and tr I. There only attendants as seconds Ix>rd Glencairn's trumpeter and 'tj \i?his man, John, Grove mentioned ?( d Lieutenant-Colonel Alexander ^ ro, a younger brother of Sir George, j,, >les arul Queries. (j] - -si <? remarkable peculiarity of the Bj res of Southern China is that tlfe ft< t toe of each foot is separated from e,' >thers like the thumb of the hand, can be used in much the same man although not to an equal extent. p le first friction matches wer? six es long and five cents apiece. Con- w rable prejudice was raised against rt r use by their occasional explosion. B ABM, ttAUDKN AH1I HOUSEHOLD. Something About Water. Water is one of the first essentials in trming. Eighty pec. cent, of all flesh waters and even in what are callecf ry foods, water must form a large prosrtion, if the animal is to be kept in 5od thrift. It is generally better to ;ve food somewhat moist, making it tore palatable, and therefore more j igestible. With our northern ice-bound inters, a good supply of water for smestic animals becomes a very imjrtant consideration. Very often in )!d weather stock will prefer to remain ader shelter, rather than go to the tring or brook where only ice-cold j ater awaits tMem.. it is very easy to luse animals to lose, from want of ater, all that they gain by feeding ain. Lack of water is one reason why is so difficult to keep up a flow of ilk in winter. The food is not succunt, and the water is generally so cold lat if a eow drinks all that she requires ie chill to the stomach will impair gestion. Usually the animal will not ink enough, while the coldness of the ater keeps the food from doing as much >od as it should. In ail basement irns (and all barns intended for stock eding should have a basement under ieir entire extent), this matter of proding water can be settled with comiratively little expense. If the wat?r not too far distant from the barn, it ay be brought close to the feeding ough in pipes. If there .be not a supv sufficient for this, cisterns can be lilt. A barn forty by ninety feet will quire a cistern holding 120 barrels, | id this aize will usually accommodate 1 the animals that need to be fed under oh a barn. To save room itisbettez make the cistern just outside the baseent wall, and have the top covered eply enough to prevent freezing. The stern will be filled previous to the inter with the warm summer rains, id it will * e far into winter before the mperature approaches the freezing int. When roots are fed, less water is eded, and it is a curious fact that a ttened animal generally drinks less in oportion than one in only store contion. There is less water in the flesh a fat animal than in that of a poor ie. It is probably this fact which has i farmers to believe that fattening jck do not need regular drink. But e moderate amount they require must i given regularly, or the disquiet and ugh appearance ?f the coat will show at something is wrong. If wnter is pt by them all the time there will be i danger that they will drink more an is jor their good. We shall not crease the proportion of water in eir flesh by furnishing less of that, but ther by giving more' of fat and flesh rminfi elements.?Country Gentleman. Household Hint*. Common Paste.?To a tablespoonful flour add gradually half a piDtof cold 1 iter, and mix until quite smooth; add j jinch of powdered aium (some add a lall pinch of powdered rosin) and boil 1 r a few moments, stirring constantly. < le addition of a little brown sugar and 1 ew grains of corrosive sublimate will, j is said by practical chemists, preserve ' for years. J Glue Liquid.?Glue, water, vinegar, | ell two parts; dissolve iu a watertli; then add alcohol, one part. An , cellcnt cement. * t j fiiterkoof Paper.?-Take a solulion 1 alum and dip the paper into it; then i row it over a line to dry. Try a \ ? * % r\ f' a non/1 In a P Ui jjupt'l. Ill bljc uuuic \JX a. vtiiiuib, I d if not sufficiently prepared dip and j j it a second time. To Clean Marble.?Chalk (in the ' wder), one part; pumice, one part; i mmon soda, two parts; mix. Wash ! e spots with the powder, mixed with i ittle water; then clean the whole of < e stone and wash off with soap and < iter. 1 ro Pbevent Ikon from Rusting.? j arm the iron until you cannot bear ur hand on it without burring your- ' If. Then rub it with new and clean { lite wax. Put it aeain to the fire till 1 has soaked in the wax. Wherw done 1 b it over with a piece of serge. This ' events the iron from rusting after- ( jrd. 1 Poultry IVote>, 1 Tomatoes are a wholesome food for ] ns, and they like tliem too. i; Chopped onions, with a little ginger ]! ixed in, are said to be a sure cure for 1 icken cholera. I Poultry houses need not be expensive, , t should be built snug and warm. , Give hens constant access to lime in j me form. Hens must have the raw i iterial in order to manufacture shells; i ey cannot make them out of nothing, i A few camphor pills about the size of ' garden pea are recommended as a sure 1 re for gapes. 1 Pickled eggs won't boil. Whenever ey come in contact with hot water the ell dissolves partnership i**. the mide. Beans harden the muscular fibers and ] shoffowls. We doubt the wisdom feeding them to the barnyard vete- < ns. ( A French writer recomm&ds the use \ green bushes or flowering shrubs in e hen house, with the view of impart- J ? a pleasant smell, and giving a more i "tural and hom'e-like appearance to 1 - i C piiWC. The Preacher's Uevlce. A preacher who had been preaching j l trial in a country church in Northern ] ;nnsylvania w:w tackled by an older ; eacher and told that it would please e congregation greatly if he would tote a little Latin, Greek and Hebrew : his sermons, as if taking for granted at his hearers understood it, when in ality none of them knew anything tout those languages. The preacher j oked puzzled. He didn't know anying of either Hebrew, Greek or Latin I mself, but he was a native of Wales, ! d thought they wouldn't know the 1 B'erenee if he gave th.m a little Welsh , pry time. So lie made a Scripture mtatinn in his tirst sermon to them, 1 id said: "Thispassage, brethren, has ] en slightly altered in the translation. ' is only in the original Hebrew that ?u can grasp its full meaning. I will ad it to you in Hebrew, so that you ay comprehend it more exactly," and i gave them the passage in very good 'elsh. They liked it first rate, and esently he gave them some Welsh afl reek, and then some more as Latin, len he was goin(g to give them the laldaio version in Welsh, when he ,w a Welshman sitting by the door, most bursting with suppressed laughr. The preacher didn't let on, but mead of the Welsh quotation he was gog to give, said in Welsh: " For good;ss' 6ake, my friend, don't say a word >out this till I hnve a chance to talk ith you." The Welshman never told i him, and the congregation, cometely deceived, calledliim to be their LSMjr There was an incident of the Dow ia], at Belton, Texas, that most un;countably escaped the attention of le local press, and yet is entirely too )od to be lost. When one of the f?male itnesses was naked by the prosecuting wyer, of a well-known convivial turn f mind, if she believed in the Bible, ic replied emphatically that she did. Do you believe, then, that wives lould be obedient to their husbands?" sked the lawyer. She snapped her jvs and responded: "Notwhen their usbands come home drunk, like you r?." You could have heard a paper of ins fall for ten minutes afterward. The tramp law of Ohio is working 'ell. In this particular it differs very laterially from the trainp himself.? 'eokuk Gate City. A nvfl^iuuu tin. An English JournaUit Expreaaea Hli Astonishment at Chlcaiio'a Growth and Energy. George Augustus Sala, t!ie eminent English journalist, writes from Chicago, giving an interesting account of that c'ty, as follows : Just ponder a little. Forty years ago this city, which now contains 500,000 inhabitants, and in ^another fifteen will probably contain 1,000,000, was a petty Indian tradingpost. The business portion of the city is now fourteen feet above the level of Lake Michigan. It was formerly much lower, but in 1856 the entire district was raised bonily to a height of nine feet by means of jack-screws inserted beneath th^ houses and worked night and day by half-turns and with an imperceptible motion. The city Stands on the ridge dividing the basin of the Mississippi from that of the St. Lawrence, and is surrounded by a prairie extending several hundreds of miles south and west. In 1870 the population was about 300,000. Now ponder yet again. In October, 1871, Chicago was " burnt up." The fire originated on a Sunday evening in a small barn in De Koven street, in the south part of the western division of the city?the proximate cause of the conflagration being the upsetting of a Kerosene lamp, Dy tne ngni oz wmcn a cow was being milked. The kerosene was Mantua and the cow Cremona. The houses in the west division wer'i mostly of wood, and there were several large timber yards along the bank of the adjacent Chicago river. Through these the flames swept with irresistible fury, and were carried by a strong westerly wind into the south division, a district thickly covered with stores, warehouses and public buildings of stone or brick, many of which were erroneously supposed to be fireproof. The tire raged during the whole of Monday, crossing the main channel of the Chicago rirer and carrying all before it in the northern district, which was chiefly occupied by dwelling houses. The last house which caueht fire was reached on Monday morning, but the ruins continued to smolder foi* months afterward. The total area " burnt up V was nearly three and a half square miles. " Nearly 18,000 houses were destroyed; 200 persons lost their lives and 200,000 more were rendered destitute. Not including de preciation of real estate and loss of business, the total lose occasioned by the fire was set down at $190,000,000, out of which aggregate some $30,000,000 were recovered by insurance, although one of the first results of tha fire was to bankrupt the lire-offices throughout the Union. Policies to heavy amounts were, however, held in English offices, which paid promptly. The Liverpool and London and Globe, for example, is said to have disbursed many millions of dollars* and t he consequence is that English fire insurance companies have been doing an immense business in Chicago ever since; the Western business men having shown steps of a pardonable partiality to insure their property in offices which do not " bust" when firerisks fall in. But the prairie city saw not the end of her miseries in th*5 giant blaze of 1871. In Juljr, 1874, another i$rcat fire swept over Chicago, destroying eighteen blocks or sixty acres of buildings in the heart of the city, and mnihilating over 5i.uuu.mru worm 01 property. On the Saturday night preceding my arrival here a v:ist range of bonded warehouses went up, and one of the headings of the graphic account of the disaster in the Chicago press ran thus: " The insurance money not beginning to cover the losses." A cheerful prognostication! But Chicago has always proved herself equal to the occajion. Whether the city was to be ??J ?? ? ? 11? bUa lino tlUrt jcreweu up ur uumcu uu> ixao ^icjervetl her high spirits ana her untiring enterprise and go-aheadedness. On the Jay after the first fire there appeared in She midst of a mass of smoldering ruins i pole surmounted by a board on which these words were writ large: "All lost but wife, children and energy. Ileal estate agency carried on as usual in the lext shanty." And the undismayed real estate agent is alive to tell the tale ?a prosperous.gentleman who proudly exhibits the "wife, children and energy" placard in his handsome office. He has reason to be proud. The wonderful prairie city now ranks next in commercial importance to New York. Chicago is the largest grain market and emporium in the world. The pulse of Chicago's board of trade must be felt before Mark Lane and the Halle aux Bles can jperate. Her lumber trade istren:enious. She employs 70,000 pairs of hands in her iron and steel works, her flour mills, her potton factories, ner ooot ana shoo manufactories and her tanneries, ind in the year ending March I, 1879, she slaughtered and packed 5,000,000 tiogs and 65,000 head of cattle, in addition to curing innumerable hams. The Sacred Fire of the Pneblos. A SantaFe (N. M.) letter says: The Pueblos claim that their Montezuma was torn through the immaculate conjeption of an Indian maiden of their ywn tribe in the village of Pecos, about thirty-five miles distant from this city. While a youth he did not exhibit any extraordinary qualities, but upon reaching manhood's estate showed himself to be a great hunter and possessed of supernatural powers. After dwelling with the tribe for a long period and performing many miraculous deeds he departed, ;oing southward. On the eve of his ioumey he is reported to have lighted a jaored fire, which he told his people to keep burning until his return. Although this, was lon? centuries ago;'it is said that the Indians have scrupulously obeyed the injunction and have never allowed the lire to die out. They liave continuously, through successive generations, Kept tne siumoeriDg embers aglow. At least this is their story, ind it is largely believed, especially by those who have seen the fire glimmering in their old adobe temple. In 1837 thejpubeblo, or town, of Pecos t7as sold. It was on a Spanish grant, md at that period the Indians removed the sacred tire with great care to Taos, svhere it is still burning and viewed with reverential awe. Some of the Indians of the present day have so much confidence in the return of Montezuma lL"1" ? ?liAIIOO-tAnQ LIUll LUUy f?C L UUL uf;uu lui^ix nv/ jvery morning with the rising of the run and look anxiously into the far distance for his comine. Even though many of the Pueblo Indians have outwardly embraced the Christian religion, yet they maintain their faith in Montezuma, whom they regard as their savior or sovereign. Tnev are a docile and industrious people, who live a pastoral life. As communities they are far more prosperous and live far better than the majority of the natives. The Foop to Make Flesh. In general we do not think health is promoted by "taking thought" too much about it. But on the other hand there is no advantage in ignorance. Here is a hint from the Toledo Blade: Sugar, syrup, fresh cheese, wheaten grits, hominy and juicy meats are the fnnds to make flesh. Almost any woman will get plump on brown bread and wheaten grits, or oatmeal twice a day, with meat and plenty of vegetables at breakfast and dinner, and a supper of brown biscuit, with sweetmeats, cheese and cream, or coffee drank with plenty of sugar and milk. It is not necessary to eat largely if the appatite does not call for it, out the food must be tempting, and if the hunger is keen, any one who would be plump and spirited must not be afraid to indulge it. Unrelishing, distasteful iood, though it may be considered healthy, will not nourish and stimulate like what is piquant and savory, and changed in variety day by ??p TIM Eli I TUmS. 1 The appearance of American tallow, 1 not only in St. Petersburg, but even in Moscow, has lately caused an unpleaa; ant surprise in Russian industrial circles. The particular industry affected i is an important one in Russia. The leadiDg stearine factories ot Moscow are . now using the American product,which, in regard to quality and packing, is said J to be preferred to the Russian tallow. j The failures in England reached a J liittAiiiiuuu m iov?7t n ucix u^iu nnc ic- c ported, and that thereafter, for six : years, the number ranged from eight to t ! nine thousand only. Since then the number has steadily increased from 10,846 J in 1876 to 15,732 in 1879. There was a marked decline in the number of failures during the last quarter of 1879, and ~ the believers in cycle theories of trade depression are confident that there now * will be a rapid decline in the number, followed by six years of sound trade. J A Liverpool merchant last year took S his son, wno was recovering from scar- ^ let fever, that is to say, was in the most | infectious stage of the disorder, to stay j at a hotel in Wales. The young man's ? condition transpired, and there was a general exodus from the house. The f landlord thus had his house empty at a 1 busy time, and, besides, was obliged to ? go to a considerable expense in disin- f. fectingit. He brought an action to re- ; cover the loss he had sustained, and it f has been settled out of court by the pay- J ment of a large sum, nearly 810,000, in- j; elusive of costs. c The news received from the interior of e the Russian empire is heartrending. ? Famine and diphtheria are decimating the population. The provinces of Sara- ? tof and Kief, which annually export enormous quantities of grain,'scarcely , had any crop last year. The calamity 1 is aggravated by the want of fodder for 9 the cattle, the peasants being forced to e sell them at any price. In the C'auca- ? sus the famine is still greater. Here people are committing suicide, selling 1 their children, and taking other extreme measures to stave off starvation. The c government and private charity are do- a ing their utmost to alleviate the suffer- ? ing* b The Boston Traveller is of the opinion ? that " what the farmers of Massaclm- 11 setts with the other New England 7 States, with the Middle and Southern K Atlantic States need more than anything y else now, is experiment stations such c as the State of Connecticut has and has ? had for several years. For this purpose our neighboring State appropriated, in ? 1877, 85,000 to be expended annually * under the management of a board of con- a trol, that shalfappoint a director who J shall have the general oversight oi ex- j! periments and investigations lor t.ne u promotion and advancement of agricul- e tural knowledge among the farmers of y the State. Massachusetts needs such 3 an organization to promote its agricul- ' ture. * The Montevideo harbor improvement c company, in dredging the harbor of c Montevideo, lately raised two Ingots. a They were at first believed to be of iron, 4 but one of the Bailors in cleaning off e the shells which covered them discovered that they were two bars of 1 silver, each seventy pounds in weight. * On one of them traces of an inscription " were found; the "dnte " 1772 " was still 8 legible. There is no doubt that these v ingots formed part of the treasure which the Spanish galleon Aurora took from J Chili in 1772. and which, according to c Lozan, was lost in that port, opposite 0 the powder magazine, during the storm r of the nineteenth of August in that year. r As it is probable that in this spot then.- P are other treasures which have been 1 hidden during a century, the dredging a company have arranged with diver3 to ? make further researches. = i: A Dog and His Doings. He was a pure Newfoundland, with a nice broad head and beautiful brown t eyes, and such a sweet expression at the corners of his mouth you would be sure to think he was smiling. A more affectionate heart never beat than that P beneath the shaggy breast of our dog Custer. We trained him to hold the halter in his mouth and lead the horses P away, and he was very proud to be al1 ^Airrvf txr/Mllrl ura Of hlQ 1UWCU OHIO iiUUl/1} (kuu n vu>v4 ???'&, **? big,'bushy tail in a satisfied way, and ? hold his head high in order to look as ? dignified as possible, I suppose. His tricks and accomplishments were * many. He could carry two eggs in his P huge mouth at once and never break " one. He could tnrn a knob as well as P any one, and on entering a room would always turn around and put his paw on the door to close it. If this failed he would jump upon the door, taking care nor to scratch with his nails. He was more intelligent than many men I have seen, and if any one sat down in the a, house without doffing his hat Custer b would steal stealthily up behind him tl and pull it off, then dropping it on the b floor at the side of his chair would walk ti quietly away and lie down, as one who e had performed a duty. ci We would wrap a few pennies in a v, paper and send him with it in his mouth C to a store for candy, of which he was s< very fond. He woujd never give it to f( any but one clerk, with whom he was li acquainted, and would bring the candy ii home untouched, but after delivering it ri to us would stand expectantly by, wag- n ging his tail and waiting for the sweet d morsel he knew he was sure to get. He n was fond of milk, too, but would carry a it laithfully to our pet lamb; and t] though he would glance longingly into c< the pail occasionally, he was never h known to betray our trust or steal one b sip of the coveted beverage. a We could send him to a remote part of n the hou<?e for any article, and he would v Kn onra to iinrlprRtATid and brin? it to us h if lie could find it, and lie generally h found whatever he searched for. I would I s< say: " Custer, bring my overshoes from d the hall." He would get up and yawn, b perhaps, nnd look up in my face with a n dog-smile, as though he said: "You J lazy girl, why did you disturb my pleas- w ant dream?" then turn the knob of the d hall door and in a moment return to me o: with both rubbers in the cavernous c] depths of his great'red mouth. d I would say: Bring me my thimble. ** It is up-stairs on the window." He \ would turn his grand, glossy head first on one side, then on the other, and look at me in a puzzled way, as though trying to fix it upon his memory, then turn slowly away to do his errand. Sometimes on the way he would seem to forget and ^ come back to me, looking very much u ashamed, dropping his wide, curiy ears j, and peering at me from the top of his t( oves. Then I would r.-peat my deinaud |, and lie would run friskily away again, | and come back with the thimble hid in his mouth. Often he would tantalize me * playfully and refuse to give it to me, . shaking his head in a mischievous way q and keeping just out of my reach, as I & ran toward him. n One day a friend came to visit us, bringing her little poodle. He was a 11 mere pigmy co-upared to our noble New- 8 foundland. One blow from his great c paw would have utterly annihilated 1 the little fellow. In playing around v him as he lay on the rug, tne poodle bit him with his sharp little-teeth, upon his huge upper lip. Dear old Custer did not retaliate at all, but as the n impudent little dog persisted in annoy- Sing him and biting him, t.'te tears rolled c down the dusky face, and a lew sobs H welled up from his broad breast, men- vcatims of physical pain, but he was al- v together too gentlemanly to touch one v so unequal in size with himself; when t lie would have needed oulj to open his t mouth once, and close it, and the little n poodle would have been amons the I things that were.?Chicago Field, c All JJUU1 llaillinii wnatiii ?? j lite First Elephant Ever Born In Cap. tlvlty?An Event that Canted Ureat Excitement In a Philadelphia Menaserle?How the Infant wil Treated J by Its Mother. The Philadelphia Times of a recent late says: A most important event in < :he zoological world occurred at the itables of Cooper & Bailey, the circus ( nen, at an early hour yesterday mornng. This was nothingmoie or loss than lie birth of a young elephant. The imlortancc of the affair to the world of ( science will be realized when it is stated .hat it is the first instance of the kind hat has taken place, so tar as is known, imong these animals in a state of cap-1 ivity. I A quoer-looking little black animal, |1 lot much larger than a Newfoundland log, with a very diminutive specimen of C l trunk, and with a disposition to run at ;hings blindly like a young colt, fairly lescribes the appearance of "the stranger C is it waddled about in the large brick itable' known as the elephant house. / die mother, a large black Asiatic eleihant, known by the attractive name of | iebe, stood in "the center of the large g table room, with both hind lees chained 0 two posts. This precaution was ab- E lolutely necessary, as will be shown. At he upper end of the stable room, about 1 dozen yards from Hebe, stood six other arge elephants with their heads turned oward her, likewise chained to posts, t was a most exciting scene among hese elephants when the birth toos ilace. For months past Hebe, on acnf hnrnnnHlh'nn liner hnpn nlininP^ >n the same spot away from the other e ilephants, the room being always in care ?f a watchman or keeper at night. The vatchman was at his post when the vent by"which Hebe distinguished her- ^ elf occurred. The scene that followed he describes as ively. Instantly all the other elephants b et up the most tremendous bellowing ver heard of, and threw their trunks fi .bout and wheeled around and stood on p heir hind leg? and cavorted and danced a the highest glee, as*though they -had j] ;one mad. The excitement communi- 0 ated itself to Hebe and she became .lmost frantic. With a terrific plunge he broke the chains and ropes which leld her, and, grasping UD?thc little 0 taby elephant with her trunk, threw it ,bout twenty yards across the room, n etting it fall near a large, hot stove? ' yhere a fire is always kept burning to ;eep the place heated?then followed J ritn a maa rush, bellowing and lashing 1< ler trunk, as though she would carry verytbing before her. The keeper fled n or his life, and not a moment too soon. 0 Lround this stove was a stout railing . UnnrrTt a I JILUCU Uy lieiXYJ ail? iwtv.nuv.v. -. . protection for the stove in case any of c he elephants ever eot loose and ?ook it ? nto their heads to oe vicious. Against n liis railing Hebe charged with such ffect that she reduced it to kindling rood in short order. Not stopping here a he struck the stove and knocked it into d he position of the leaning tower of 'isa in an instant and badly irnashed I. he pipe. The keeper meantime had r :iven the alarm, and three or four others ii oming to his assistance the animal was, a iter some trouble, secured and chained o the poJt again. Meantime the other n lephants kept ud their bellowing and ^ he lashing of tlieir trunks as though ^ hey could not make noise enougti and g layer would get through- i*ejoicing. t rffe baby elephant which at once howed a disposition to make friends ? vith anybody or everybody, was piloted 9 iack to its mother, where the keepers I( ,nd others who had now been attracted p iy the general commotion, becume at mce interested in nursing it. It would o un about with its mouth open very S tiuch like a young colt. The old ele- v thant would not stand still long enough I o suckle it, being constantly swaying ,nd swinging .about, so the keepers hit t in the happy expedient of procuring a e unnel and rubber tube about a yard in n ength. Inserting one end of the tube s< n the baby's nouth they fed it by miikng into the funnel at the other end, the ittle newcomer taking its sustenance 0 run a reusu uum iu ummcu il wum r :ike no more by promptly jerking its c aouth away. During the day it was ^ ecessary for two or three keepers to be \ resent to attend to it. their great fear t eing that it might get entangled in the hains which held its mother to the osts and get crushed. The mother erself is a fine specimen of the Asiatic lephant, being twenty-three years oli nd very large. The sire is Mandrie, an lephant of about the same size of the ]other and two years older. The baby 3 thirty-five inches high and weighs 214 ounds. The period of gestation is put y scientific authorities at twenty lonths and a half. There will probaly be scientific investigation of the ase by Professor Leidv and others. v When Trousers Were First Worn. n - n- i o 11 is genurany kuuwu iaj us mmuiw- ? ged men, by " tradition," that breeches e egun to give place to trousers during tl tie lirst decade ot the present century, s ut it is not generally known that a rousers were actually worn by London a xquisites in the latter years-of the last b entuvy. "Itwill be observed," says a ti rriter in "Arliss' Pocket Magaziria ot tl llassic and Polite Literature," new v ;ries, volume three, 1825, " from <he si illowing description of a dandy, pub- tl shed in 1791, that trousers were tlien n i fashion, and were considered as a ri idiculous article of drpss: 'Advertise- n lent Extraordinary!?Lost, hist Saturay night, supposed in the lobby ot the n ew theater, an overgrown baby, who tl rrived but two days ago in town from d lie country. He had on a light-colored n oat, with cape hanging careiessly over h is shoulders; a pair of his lather's b reeches, which reach down to his o nkles, and an old pair of his grand- fi lamma's spectacles, which he con- si erted into an opera-glass. He had on f< is sister's high-crowned hat, and his v ain cut so short that you might ob- ii jrve liis bare poll. Laughs a great b eal; cau swear a few fashionable oaths, a ut does not know how to write his s< ame. Answers to the name of Master n ackey. As he had only sixpence a n reek pocket-money, it is feared he is r etained in some cake-shop for his reck- t ning, ,f so, all demands shall be t lieerfully paid if he is restored to his fc isconsolate parents.'" Burlesque ad- c . U *t.? r_ L eriisemenis, nucu its tuc luicgutuy, i. ?re not uncommon in old magazines, v -Notes and Queries. 1 C t Living ou Sea Weed. h A correspondent on the British gun- J oat Goshawk, which is distributing *' leal among the Western islands, writes 1 rom Innishark, oil' Galway: It is a T ;rrible state ol allairs. Filty families 5 ere ene out a miserable existence. 1 'heir land is rock and soft bog. liun- 1 er and want are everywhere visible. v 'he people go naked and without food. S Liny are slowly starving to death. r uch scenes of appalling restitution 1 n ever before witnessed. Every step we g aok brought belore our view new and c lore feariui pictures ol destitution anu v uttering. The more we saw the more j ertain did death irom starvation appear t he inevitable Jate of nearly every man, g Ionian and child on the island. Gaunt, thin and pale were the faces of g tie men, who were naturally of liercu- c 3an build. The features of the woman 0 nd children were overspread by the e hastly pallor of hunger. In many ^ abins children crouched, shiveringand ? lmost naked, around the tire. W hen 1 n ntered they sprang behind their mother, [ /hose sin?le garment?a thin dress? n ras but the slightest protection against e he wind which blew through the a iroken roof. On the tire wm the din- ? ter?a pot of brown green seaw eed. tl t is certain that unless thej are well r< ared for dozens will die of starvation. M * Sweet tangled banks, where ox-eyed doisio grow And scarlet poppies gleam; Sweet changing lights that ever come and go Upon the quiet stream ! )nce more I see the flash ot splendid wings, As dragon flies flit by; )nce more for me the small sedge-warbler sings Beneath & sapphire sky. )oce more I feel the simple, fresh oontcnt I found in stream and soil, SVhen golden summers slowly came and went And mino was all their spell. find amid the honeysuckle flowers And shy lorget-mo-not i )ld boyish memories ot lonely hour3 Passed in this silent spot. )h, God ot natoro, how tby kindness keeps Some changeless things on earth ! tnd he who roams tar off and toils and weeps Comes Dome to learn ineir worm. fay visions vanish, worldly schemes may tail, Hope provo an idle dream, tut still the blossoms flourish, red and pale, Beside ray native stream. ?Sup day Magazine. ITEMS OF INTEBEST. / England paid $12,500,000 for foreign ggs m 1879. The wealth of Harvard university has ncreased $3,000,000 since 1879. The chief cook at the Union club, in Tew York, is paid $6,000 a year. Advertising is yeast that makes the usiness rise.?Daniekonvillc Bertlinel. Tennyson has his tobacco sent him om America, and he smokes clay ipes. A colored man who cooks terrapin at tie Maryland club, Baltimore, earns ver $2,000 a year. } "Soled again." as the cobbler relarked when he finished tapping a pair f shoes.?Rome Sentinel. Jt is estimated that 3,000 additional liles of railroad will be bnilt in Texas rithin the next three years. The great Cornish copper smelter, olin Michael Williams, recently died, ;aving a $20,000,000 estate -M* il-.l 1J it is not every soiaier iu?t wouiu lake a good carpenter, but thousands if them can make a good wheel rieht. t Reporters who find themselves "finanially embarrassed," are just iia good at iving as taking notes.?Yonkers Slaicsion. ' :It has been figured out that our 50,00,000 inhabitants consume on an averge forty-three pounds ol sugar per head uring twelve months. There are so many idle doctors in /ondon that one of the busy on<*s who ecently advertised for an assistant offerig $500 a year, received between 400 nd 500 answers. 1 David Burns is the oldest living boatlan on the Kentucky river, having been orn in 1791. He has walked from New Means to Frankfort, Ky., 1,500 miles, ix times. Every man who has become President f the United States has been elected urinp a leap-year. This is something sr the girls to wonder over.?PJiiladelhia Chronicle. > t , There is astanding olTeron the part f the Bahama legislature of $10,000 a ear for ten years to anv companv that rill lay a cable between Nassau and the Jnited States. Th'} New Orleans Picayunc is forty liree years old. It was started as au , xperiment in journalism, and pot its omQ fmm the pnin lor which it was Id?-six and a half cents a copy. The singular phenomenon has be< n requently observed in the mountainus parts of Switzerland. Baden, Bavaia and elsewhere in Europe! in the ourse of the current winter, that it has ieen generally warmer in the elevated istricts, on the hills and mountains, han in the plains and valleys. There's a demon in the glass Dashitdownf' -<i With a chain of triple brass? Dasli it down! There is many a bosom's throo, And a world of bitter woe, Lying underneath Its flowCash it down! ?Old S<yg* "I The Tragedy of the Cottage. Henrjr King has an article in flcrifmcr n life in a Kansas cattle town, from rhich we""make this extract: It was a bland, moonlit, beautiful ight, and we rambled aimlessly out long the railroad track, away from asy hearing, but still within sight of lie town, until suddenly we found ourelves looking upon the Conwell cottage, s it was styled. The open prairie lay bout it, and no other building could a mi!e nr mnrp in Jin V diree f. aix-u iui <* lunv v. ~ w ion; it was untenanted and dark: and liough now sorely beset by creeping ines, and things that grow only where il nee invites them, we could yet sec lat it had at one time been temptingly eat and cosy?and our imagination eadily restored it to life, and brightess, and abounding merriment. It was the landlord?or was it the linister??who had rehearsed /or us lie mysterious and bitter story of this eserted cottage. The man whose ame still clung to it, hnd set it apart, ad built it vhile Grand avenue was ut grass aud cacti, and New Sharon nly a ranch where accidental Saata Fe eight wagons halted over night. No tranger site could have been selected 5r such a bird-cage of a dwelling; and rlien Con well brought a woman to lire i it with hira?a woman of wonderful eauty, with ever so many rich dresses, nd diamonds, and a laugh like a lark's ong (the ranchmen said)?it was rojantic and perplexing enoueh for a ovel. But by and by the railroad arived, and the town wife started, and he cow-boys occupied the scene; and lien one day there came a portly, iearded man, who talked in low and oaxing tones, but with a wild look in lis eyes. Tnis man inquired for Conveil and the handsome woman, particularly the woman. Nobody knew, o ourse, what his errand was; had the ownsfolk suspected it, they would lardly have shown him the cottage, ie found her there alone?attired us if or a ball?and asked her to tell him the ruth, on her soul, it is supposed; and rhen she had finished he deliberately hot her to the hearr, kneeling at his set. Then he stoopeJ and lifted her ip, and stood with her in his arms, ehen some passing herdsmen thrust pen the door1 o t>ee what had happened, ie laid the dead body on a couch, diectly, looked at it intently foramonent, took one ol the hands in his, and poke to those ahout him: "She was aine, and I killed her. She's good and phite again at hist. I've saved lier." .'lie limp hand dropped, and lie Ff-emed alking to himself, as he added: "If he had loved him, he might have had ,er, for ail m&; but she didn't love him, he told me she didn't, it was rue uue Iothes, the fine clothes!" Then he bent ver and k;ssed her forehesid once, boImnly. A minute lat<r he turned his ack upon her; and he said with a hastly smile: "I feel easier in my lind than I've felt afore in two years. 'II go now." And that wasall?no one him or to auestion him, ven when he walked aboard of the ain next morning; an? Conwell never ime back to the cottWfcany more: and ie cottage itaclf waa shunned and sur?ndered to the vine# ?nd weeds, n? we IW it.