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.:> '.;'!Wl8B * "' - ''Af>s?!f&A [ ILLE PRLfoS & BANNER. ^ BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T.WAEDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1880. NO. 18. VOLUME XXVI. j Work nucl Wait. li A husbandman who many years V Had plowed his fields and sown in tcais, Grew weary with hid doubts and fears. ?. " 1 toil ir. vain ! These i-ocks and sands U Will yield no larvest to my hands; The best seeds rot in barren lands. r< My drooping vine in withering; b< J*o promised giapts its blossom3 bring; No birds among its branches sing. 11 My flock is dying on the plain; it The heavens are brass?they yield no rain; ^ 1 The earth is iron?I toil in vain !" L While yet he spake a breath had stirred M His drooping viue, like wing ol bird, 1 And horn its leaves a voice he heard: sj( " The gorms and fruit ol lile must be ^ Forever hit! in mystery, Yet none can toil in vain lor Me. A mightier hand, moro skilled than thine, ^ Must barg the cluster on the vine, And make the fields with harvest shine. ca Man can but work; God can create; But they who work, and watch, and wait, ?j Have their reward, though it coine late. Look up to heaven ! behold and hear The clouds and thundering* in thine ear? pQ An answer to thy doubts and lear." fl), _ Ho looked, and lo ! a cloud-diaped car, With trailing smoke and flames alar, Was rushing to a distant star. sbi And every thirsty flock and plain Was rising up to meet the rain afj That came to clothe the tlelds witb grain. sat llC! And on the clouds he saw again < The covenant oi God with men, ? Rewritten with His rainbow pen: at tbi " Seed-time and harvest shall not iail, <; And through the gates of hell assail, at My truth and promise shall prevail." SOC . thj THE HEIRESS. ^ crc Madge Lambert gave a vexed little no' toss of her Lead?a gesture intended to sty be awfully annihilating to Mr. Rupert , Chessington, standing c>n the lower step ttie of the piazza at the Sea Spray house. * ?or " Very weli! Go, of course, Mr. Ches- ^pi sington, if you prefer; but really I think it is too bad of you!" ^ "Of course it is," added pretty little . Miss Baileray, with the golden locks J?y and baby- blue ej es, that were consid ered a?J irresistible by the generality of the stern- . er sex. " Of course it is too bad, when se[| you know that to a dozen ladies stop- ' ping at the Sea Spray there are only such * 0 a very few gentlemen. I know what the ^ a trouble is, tnougn, aont 1, air. unessington? You're tired of all of us?the f( same ones over and over -and you are . reserving your forces until the much- in& talked-of and anxiously-expected heir- not ess and beauty arrives " an5 Chessirgton turned lazily around and ?ot laughed ^ 44 I am afraid I shall have to incur an en* awful risk in contradicting a lady," he A said, good-naturedly. oy* Haughty Madge Lambert -flashed hiui .. a half indignant, half sarcastic glance aii? from her black eyes. ~ 44 And then, when she has arrived, I dare sav, Mr. Chessington will suddenly ~ lose all his wonderful interest in his Iu|t( solitary boat rides and fishing excursions, while we forlorn maidens get y?u through the day a3 well as we can, for cu,r; lonesomeness. Mr. Che3siogton, you're T seltisli!" " e8i "Well, yes?rather, if always want y?u ing the best of everything concerned is what you call selfish," he said, pleasantly. " But I'll redeem my character, Unf by proving to you that which will doubtless set your heart at rest. I don't but believe in your wonderful coming beauty ?ae? and beires3, to begin with. And, in the dra second p.'ace "?and then his handsome mer blue eyes flashed a second?"1 would waI commit hari-kari before I'd many an heiress. There! am I vindicated?" Pa? He bowed and walked off, just a little " to the discomfiture of the fair belles on ey?? the piazza?went off toward ill e beach, ^u,i where his boat and fishing tackle | *8* awaited him, with more of a disgusted, impatient look on his face than was at A all customary with him. "What a lot of idiots a fellow comes ?ea across in the course of his life! Because J a lot of pretty, chattering girls loose their heads when a wealthy beau comes *eai along, they argue, with a woman's do11 senseless persistency, that the men are su? as mercenary and money -seeking as ^ themselves. Mary an heiress! Not if ?*e she were beautiful as Venus, and every be ' word she dropped was transmitted into tVe1 aKohinoor!" And then Mr. Chessington pushed ofl 1 in his surf boat, dashing and plunging through the breakers like a sailor-fisher ]"e born and bred. ^er? To row a mile or so out, straight to J?er another fishing boat, containing a couple d0* of barefooted little boys of seven and * ten, with tremendously wide-iimmed ~~ f hats, and bright, sunburnt faces and big w" brown eyes. ??? And a tall, gawky la l ol sixteen or w" seventeen, worried and anxious-looking, who was evidently not a little dismayed at the momentarily-increasing swell of ^is the sea and the freshening south wind. * And a young girl, ypitli wonderful, slia lovely gray eyes?grave, thoughtful, yet anc bright and flashing, as she looked at ^ar Chessington while he rowed nearer and Jac nearer, in response to a hallo from one of ro^ the youngsters. ' . * A decidedly nice-looklug girl; hardly iml what one would call pretty, and yet the wa pure, fair complexion, fiver so slightly arn suntanned, the scarlet mouth so tightly clo?ed. the waving, deep gold-colored 1DS hair, braided in a thick, magnificent braid, and hanging down to her waist, ^ and tlie glorious gray eyes, made a whole h01 ttiat Rupert Chessington quite thor- wjj oughly admired as he pulled alongside. gjr " You seem to be in a little difficulty," cfjj; he said, as he laid down his oar, and sjn touched his hat courteously. ^ She bowed. hCJ Joe seems to be somewhat demoral- ?< ized, I think. There is no danger, is ton mere?" tjie Chessington glanced at " Joe's" scared suc face, and the restie33 antics of the boys 9in in the little boat. *< "If you bad a man in charge who un- j derstood his business, there would be ? no shadow of danger. As it is, this ten young fellow has no excuse for ventur- Yo ing so iar out." th? "We were fishing," she said, in a pleasant, apologetic little way. "I j0I, think Joe hardly realized how far we ( had gone. Weil," with a swift, troubled cot little look that was more anxiety than ml fear, " we will do the best we can. Per- s^( haps you would tell Joe what to do ne. < with the boat." ? Chessington took in the situation at a glance. "Joe" was too thoroughly ] scared to be capable of any orders, and, gu left to the mercy of the freshening wind, the plunging waves, the little boat might or might not reach shore jm safely. ey "If you will allow me to exchange rol places with your pilot, I will row you aC] shore. I am Rupert ; Chessington, of ac Chessington & Van Lawn, brokers, Wall street, at present stopping at the Sea Spray house. he He touched his hat again, and bowed an slightly, and smiled?a frank, pleasant jU! smile, that was received just as frankly ci and pleasantly. " You are very kind, Mr. Chessington, w] and I will thankfully accept your offer. My name is Jessie Lane." * ht the laughed, as if the oddness of the w, mutual introduction amused her, and m Mr. Rupert Cnessington made up his fu mind, then and there, that she was the Su very nicest girl he had met in many a bf dav. w "Well, then, Joe, you spring in here d( and row yourself to shore. You won't tb ave any trouble to take yourself only, rill you?" The alacrity with which the overrown lad changed from the Nellie to :ie Clytie was sufficient answer, and either Chessington nor Miss Lane ouid avoid a smile at his expense, as, hessinaton seated in the Nellie. Joe )\ved off for dear life in the other out. "I dare say he thought it was ail glit," Jessie said, apologetically. "He had no business to think so, lough. Shall I take you straight back, iiss Lane, or would you rather fish while longer?" " If you please, I will ero back. Aunt iattie will be worried about me, and if should keep dinner waiting?" She leaned contentedly against the 3e of the boat, trailing her hand in the Lshing water, while the two children t quiet as churchmice, watching Chesogton, with aw a and admiration, as he ilied long, steady strokes, that sent em spinning along; while Chessingn? " She is the most sensible girl I ever me across. Pretty, modest, dignified, jasant, with no sham reserve about r any more than too much freedom, id what a thorough lady she is! I know as well os if I had met her a thousand nes." And Jessie, sitting so contentedly opsite hiin, her gray eyes drooped to e shining waves, thought?if ever ere was a true gentleman, in manner, rcch and actions, it was this handle stranger who was rowing her to ore. 'If you will tell me opposite which tel 1 am to row you," he said, as, er a most delightful hour's converion, he rested on his oars, and awaited r command. She laughed. ' Oh, not at any hotel. I am stopping one of thejlishermcn's cottages, about ree miles further down." secretly, [Che3sington was de lighted the prospect of continuing in her sirrty. 'Yes; I know where you mean, I nk. The place we call (Jlen Inlet?" ' Yes. And you can't imagine how ely it is there?old-fashioned, rather iwded quarters, to be sure, but with ; the faintest vestige of anything like le or amusement." '^nd you actually are boarding re, Miss Lane? Why didn't you oe to one of the hotels? The Sea ray, for instance, is a good house, 1 a pleasant company is there." 'essie laughed. 1 Not I! I came to the seashore to enmyself, and get away from fashion i dress, a.id such things." And you succeeded in enjoying yourAdmirably?since five weeks ago. u are the first devotee of the world ,t I have seen since I came to Glen Bt." ler gray eyes sparkled mischievously. Is that really so?" he asked, lookat her. "I hope, though, you will condemn yourself to such isolation ' longer?at least from me. May I join your solitary amusement, Miss iaO T fr\ Un ICl ? f/lUUliac l/V UC JUUi aiusiuucm:* . delicious, taint flush crept softly r her rare, pale face, as she laughed. > I am net sure Ted and Rick will iff it. They arc my inseparables." .nd she looked at t lie two little bare;s. hessington gravely produced a handof pennies, which he gave them. Now, young gentlemen, may I escort and Miss Lane on a charming exrion I know of to-morrow?" I must make it conditional then," iie said, gaily. " Plea?e promise me won't tell any one there is anybody m at the Inlet, wili you? Occasionfishing parties come to arrange with ;le Ben?I ca] 1 the Bettzes Uncle Ben 1 Aunt Mattie?horrible, isn't it?? : I always contrive that no one sees for I am determined not to be wn into fashionable society this sumif I can possibly help it. I don't it to see company." But you don't regard me as comy?n ^e looked with admiring, respectful 3 straight in her own, and that exsite little flush warmed her face in. No, I don't regard you a9 company!" iter that it was all up with Rupert :ssington, and he went back to the Spray, acknowledging that he wa3 oveat last, and with an unknown cure girl, who, doubtless for other sons than her dislike lor society, ibtless for pecuniary reasons, was lmering at Glen Inlet. [e liked her all the better for il, too. honored her for her sensibleness, and was over head and ears in love with dainty, gray-eyed, golden-haired 1. "he next three weeks were the most 3sed ones he ever had spent in his . He appalled the souls of Miss Baliy and Mad^e Lambert daily, by his sistent neglect of them and their dear ;en friends. le continued his solitary excursions Dlitary till he came to Glen Inlet, ere Jessie was always ready to acupany him, or entertain him. and be,ch him, until one day he told her he ed her dearly, dearly, and that it was one wish of his life to have her for wife. ind Jessie, with her lovely gray eyes, .dowed with the tenderness of love i trust unspeakable, looked in his idsome, eager face, and told him she 1 loved him from the moment he had red up beside her that summer day. ind as he took her in his arms, and printed a lover's ardent kiss on her rm, scarlet mouth, and wrapped liis a about her supple waist, his heart re great throbs of blissful thanksgivfor this blessing on him. ******* 'he rude piazza of the Sea Spray ise was a bewildering, bright scene, ;h the half-dozen or so gayly-dressed Is standing in earnest conversation, ittering like magpies, as Mr. Ches- I gton came leisurely to the house, ladge Lnmbert tossed her pretty dark id. saucily. 'There! Didn't I say Mr. Chessingwould not fail to be on h- nd to greet heiress? You men can't withstand :h a golden tempiation. Mr. Chesgton, she has arrived." 'She! Who?" ladge laughed, sarcastically. 1 There isn't the least use ol your preding you don't know who I mean, ur indifference is charming, but not s genuine article. You know I mean ! heiress we've been expecting so 'g." 3hessington smiled?a sort of pity nine over him as he remembered how ich happier he was than the man who juld be fortunate with this wonderful w-comer. ' Yes, I really had forgotten. Arrived, 3 she?" Vliss Balleray went up to him, in her shing way. '* I prophesy you will be the very first go wild over her. She is just what I agine you will like. Great, big gray es, and the goldenest hair. And to mantic. I wonder you never came ross her in your solitary rambles. She tually has been staying all summer wn at old Bettz, the fisherman's cot?e. But then Jessie Lane always had r own curious tastes and ideas, ^t 1 events, she is here now, and I am st dying to introduce you to.Jier Mr. lessington." He stood confounded for a |minute, hile he tried to realize it. Jessie, his darling, the heiress whom > bad declared, before them all, he ould sooner commit suicide than arrv! Jessie, his gray-eyed, thought1 little girl, in her cheap blue- flannel lits, with no gloves or veil on her mds or face, she the great i-eiress, hose comings and goings, whose >ings and sayings, were chronicled in daily papers?whose dreeses were - " ' - V. ? i-'' j". , copied by less favored mortals, whos< presence was as welcome as the sunshine! i " And she is pretty, too," Madge Lambert said, a little venomously, as if it were quite a shame. " I saw her as she went to her room." Chessington looked self-possessedly up at the array of faces, " I am glad you think Jessie is pretty. I think she is the loveliest drl living. So vou did not know I was engaged to her?" And then followed n. sudden lull in the merry chatter, that eloquently expressed ?he dumfounded astonishment Cliessington's announcement made. So Cupid had his own way at the seaside, just as surely as though there had been no such tiling as fate to overcome. A Fox's Strategy. " 1 was once," says a hunter, "chasing a small fox with half a dozen hounds. They had been pushing him pretty closely for some three hours, and he was finally forced to try to gain his den in a ledge of rocks. Now, it happens to be a fact that a fox always likes to put as much distance as possible between himself and his pursuers when he takes to his domicile and as a consequence he makes the highest possible speed when finishing the run. In this particular instance Reynard started on a straight run for his home when uuai ly ix lliikj uisiaui uuu v> iis buuii or 3 0 yards ahead of the houuds and widening the gap. When less than a quarter of a mfie from home he was intercepted by three fresh dogs, which, hearing the chase, had started to join it from a point on a line with the fox's kenneling place. Of course they drove him back on a line nearly parallel with the course on which he had been running, and it looked as though he would have to make a circuit of two or three miles to reach home. The fresh hounds having literally taken up the chase and carried it back past my own at an angle, my dogs left the trail and by a short cut joined the intruders, and the whole pack was soon in full cry within 100 yards of Uie fox, which was now running directly away from home. At this point the fox lelt J i. 1. 4 A LUC WUUU3 tlllU tUUK UJ till uppci uuu that sloped abruptly down some 300 yards to a narrow valley. He had barely disappeared over the brow of the hill when the nine dogs broke from the woods over the fence, all of them ixcept the leader with heads erect looking eagerly for their prey. I was standing on the opposite hill and had an unobstructed view, and caiefully noted all the movements of the fox and his pursuers. As soon as he had cleared the fence and before the hounds were in a position to see him lie put on a magnificent burst of speed for 100 yards down the hill until he reached a large stump three feet in height and perfectly flat on top. Leaping upon it he lay down with his nose pointing in the direction of his noisy pursuers and flattened himself out so completely that he was practically invisible to me, and I doubt whether a man would have noticed him pacing within two rods of the stump unless he was looking for something on it. The hounds came down the hill with a rush, some takinir one side of the stump and some the other. There was no abatement in their speed until tbey reached nearly the opposite side of the field, when the leader discovered that the trail was " lost," and giving the well-known signal the pack was thrown into confusion and the search to pick it up began. As soon as the hounds had gone a safe distance beyond him, Reynard leaped from his perch and made a bee-line for home. It was nearly fifteen minutes before the hounds made out the trail, and he had ample time to reach the ledge before they were again in pursuit of him. Chicago Grain Elevators. Their aggregate capacity is 16,840.000 bushels; individual capacity from 90,000 to 2,000,000 bushels. They are in different parts of the city, but those at the disposal of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy [railroad give neaily onethird of the whole capacity. One of the newest of them, Armour Dole & Co.'s elevator " D," may be taken as what it is the fashion to call a " representative " el6vator. It certain ly is a very fine one, and should be seen by all inquiring visitors. It was begun in 1875, is 336 feet long, 100 feet wide, and 145 feet uigu, ruquireu uvu uimiuji icut ui jumber in its construction, and cost $350,000 One can easily obtain permission to in spect it, and the superintendent will enlighten his ignorance, or increase and qualify his knowledge, as the case may be. He is conducted to a little " elevator" (here is thi3 confusion of names again'; it is what our English friends call a " lift"), and hoisted to the top floor. At one end he sees, swiftly passing over a shaft, the largest belt in the United States, 280 feet in length, and eighty inches in width. Below him are great scales, and bins sixty feet deep. A fine and suggestive dust gradually covers his clothes, as be listens to the Dolite cicerone, who is telling him that there are twenty-six standard Fairbanks scales in the building, and that they weigh so accurately that in an aggregate of six carloads there was only ashortageof thirty gMinds between " St. Joe" and Chicago, at " look out for the engine when the bell rings." A train has come in below full of grain in bulk. Into a car goes a great shute, or nozzle; somebody pulls vl lever, hiiu, pieatui awav xiaDguuu grain up into a weighing bin, then down into another receptacle of profundity and security. It dawns on the observer's mind that one man's property is by no means kept separate from another man's. This grain is all graded by a State inspector ; it is "weighed in" and " weighed out," and all that is needful is that the contents of each bin should be homogeneous. But here comes another train ?empty cars to be filled for the hast. Men wanted, with shovels, to laboriously handle the grain? Not at all. onwnn 4-Vtftt- fl Kll f a Affoin Kaq 1/UVVII V/UUL1C3 IUUU OUUtC U^U(U) kj\sn,t. v*o are put across the doorways" of the cars, and|in one of them after another the grain runs up foot by foot. In less time than any one would think possible?a few minutes to each car?the train is entirely loaded, its doors are closed, and the engine is drawing it out again, to be delivered to one of the Eastern trunk ines.?Harper''a Magazine. Prove It by Mother. While driving along the street one day last winter in my sleigh, a little boy, six or seven years old, asked me the usual question: " Please may I ride?" I answered him: "Yes, if you are a good boy." He climbed into the sleigh; and when I asked again, "Are you a good boy? he looked up, pleasantly, and said," Yes, sir." "Can you prove it?" "Yes, sir." "By whom?" "Why, my ma," said he, promptly. T thought to myself, hfre is a lesson for boys and girls. When a child feels and knows that mother not only loves but has confidence in him and her, and can prove their obedience, truthlulness and honesty by mother, they are pretty safe. That boy will be a joy to Lis mother while she lives. She can trust him out of her sight, feeling that he will not run into evil. I do not think he will go to the saloon, the theater or the gambling house. Children who have praying mothers, and mothers who have children they can trust, are blessed indeed. Boys and girls, can you prove by mother that you are good? Try to deserve the confidence of your parents and every one else.?Children's Friend. The national convention of deaf mutes of America wiJlj|h?liiJU?eit nej.t meeting in the city bf TfttK in 188?,. ; A THRILL1NU RICE. Ridden by Two Spirited tilrli Before n Crowd of ThouaandH at Minneapolis and One of the Girls Injured by a Fell , From Oer Hone, Thetwenty-mile running race between Mis j Emma Jewett, of Minnesota, at Minneapolis, and Miss Belle Cook, of , California, aroused the interest and ex> ! citement of the 30,000 people who saw it. | At fifteen minutes past five o'clock, after . the multitude had enjoyed the proverbial wait on a woman's toilet, the | young ladies were driven in a carriage, amidst the cheers of the people, to the j judge's stand, in front of which were a ] dozen swift running hordes. ( The plan of the race was for each of ] int; lauitrs iu uuaugu uer uuroe ai picas- j ure, which was acne generally after , running each mile. Both ladies were J petite in form, Miss Jewett weighing i twenty pounds more than her opponent. , She was distinguished by tne elaborate r decorations of her habit in gold, and Miss ( Cook by a blue veil which streamed j Irom her head. It was almost inipossi- T ble for men at the bits to hold the wild c racers. a At the word "go" the horses plunged r off with their fearless riders, and then g occurred one of the most intensely ex- ^ citing races that was ever witnessed, f The crowd was tumultuous at first, x and alterward grew crazy with excite- a ment. Miss Jewett was, of course, the t) lavorite of the great majority, but Miss j. Cook's easy possession and pluck rap- ^ idly won her friends. Miss Cook's veil ^ was soon seen fluttering in the lead, but v half way around the glittering gold of t Miss Jewett's habit came abreast, and ^ she passed under the wire ahead, while Miss Cook reined her horse close to the one waiting, and with hardly any help r, snrnnp from the back of one horse to k the back of another and dashed in pur- a suit, encouraging her steed, already wild D with excitement from the shouts that ? rose above the noise of the crowd. The girls seemed lost to all danger in ]( the enthusiasm and excitement of the t| race. At the end of each mile they jt changed to fresh horses, and to do it jj without the loss of time the speed of thp rj running horse seemed hardly checked. c] The men threw themselves recklessly in ^ front of the animals, and seizing their a bits threw them on their haunches, g Once Mi^s Cook's horse wa3 thrown ^ violently to the ground and fell upon p: her. A cry of alarm went up from the t]j crowd, but the girl sprang to her feet 1 and to another horse in waiting, losing only thirty seconds. Miss Jewett was w very unfortunate in changing horses, losing much time trying to mount un- U( manageable ones. Once she was kicked in the side, but if it hurt no one knew it. ^ She was soon on the animal's back. r( On the seven-mile round Miss Jewett je was unhorsed. When the intelligence w was shouted from the reporter's stand pl that she had fallen, for a moment fear g. held the crowd silent,but tne craze of the ^ race returned and they shoted, madly: tc " Send her another horse!" and one of a] her backers dashed down the track with ^ a fresh animal. This she did not mount, ?j and the crowd noted with horror the g? ffAm T*rVi>/>h ohfl foil f^Qr. ,1 lXUCllrOO 11VIOU iivui W UlOAl UliV <vii bWM?ing around with saddle turned. jc Miss Cook rode once more round the track and was awarded the purse of $2,800, having made eight miles in j( less than twenty minutes. 0] Interest in the race gave way to the ^ desire to know the extent of Miss 01 Jewett's injuries. She was bought to 0, the judge's stand and surgeons sur- a] rounded her. She was pale as death, begrimed witli dust and dirt, and was t? only kept from fainting by brandy being ^ administered. Her leg was severely a) sprained but not broken. p] tr Mrs. Judsou's Ghost. Dr. Way land, In his "Life of Judson," h' has but feebly portrayed the scene of B Mrs. Judson's funeral. Our decks were crowded with sailors of all nations, and b every llag was at half-majt, while a P( long line of boats took ours in tow, and t* on "arrival at the wharf the clergy of ^ every denomination formed the head of the procession, which moved through P| UZl* ?11 (J UK* 111 HI II bliuct, VYiiliC an Dlit; vuv^i were closed. My recollections of Dr. Judson are of ni the most agreeable kind. Deeply afflicted as he was by his loss, he still maintained a cheerful demeanor, impressing b all of us with love and veneration for ?? his character. His life was a constant " sermon. ?' But scenes like that of the death and *c funeral they had lately witnessed prepared the minds of the crew for the J" access of superstition. Goon after leav- b ing St. Helena the second mate called ' *-* %?% 5r* tho tiiffhh Thfl nnnr ^ LUU OUUUCUljr iu l;uw fellow's tone evinced thai be was as ^ much frightened a3 were the eatlori, a: who, he said, bad seen a ghost. ai "A gho?t, Mr. Bronson?" I asked. ? " What kind of a ghost?" b " Mrs. Judson's, sir; we can all see it 01 in the foretop." ~ n "Pshaw!" n " Captain, do come on deck, do, and 31 you will see it for yourself," replied Mr. ^ Bronson. d Well, as I had never seen a ghost. I ?' complied with his request, and walking i! nto the waiet, where the watch were ? gathered in stupefied amazement, they b pointed their trembling fingers to the ^ foretop, whispering, in hushed voices: " There she is, sir?look at her." Yes, there she was?a perfect figure of 11 a woman in a white dress, with out- 7 stretched arms and a gLastly face. I fj will confess that no little astonishment was combined with my incredulity. I .J had been awakened from a sound sleep 1! to behold this visitation with half- v opened eyes. But in a moment 1 saw ? the cause of the singular deception. J1 "Boys," I said, " who will go with 1 me into the foretop and speak to her?" c There were brave men among the v crew who would have gone aloft on my 1 order to send down a royal yard, even P if they thought the mast might go over , the side, but now none of them would P stir. At last I said: " Do you think it 11 is my place to go up and 6tow that top- r gallant studding-sail?" ? Then they unders:ood the meaning of T the apparition. This sail, which when 1 not in use, was lashed against the fore- " topmast rigging, had got adrift, and f spreading itseii across 10 tuu tuieumsi, head, had assumed the weird and 1 unearthly appearance of a ghost. So a this puzzle for metaphysicians was ? solved. c Had I sent the men below and gone r up and stowed the sail myself, as I was ? tempted to do, no argument would have ^ convinced them that they had not seen J; the ghost of Mrs. Judson.?L'aptain John J Codman, in Harpers Bazar. 1 Sardines. t These little funny creatures are caught ^ in nets, and after being well washed the t heads are cut off, and the fish are sprin- t kied lightly with salt. After lying for s a few hours they are placed on girds in i rows almost perpendicular. The frames c are then placed in pans containing boil- t ing olive oil. This oil is changed as t soon aB it becomes too black ana dirty ^ for continuing the cooking process. As t soon as the fish are considered sufficiently I cooked they are withdrawn from the f pans of oil, and the girds are placed on 1 the tables covered with zinc, the surface of the tables inclining I oward a groove in the center. The oil is thus carried to i a vessel prepared to receive it. Around < these tables stand the women whose i business it is to pack the fish closely and i uniformly in boxes. The boxes being 1 full, the fish are covered with fresh oil, < and the lids are then soldered down. 1 Thus hermetically sealed they are placed t in iron baskets and immersed in boiling < water. The smaller boxes are thu3 boiled for about half an hoar and the larger ones somewhat longer, in propor- i tion to size of box. The fish are then j ready for the market, and being packed | ' in cases, are seat to the ends of the j earth. , IN THE GREAT LIJRAY CAVERN. A World Where Everrthlng Is Upside Down?Palaces Under the Earth A Virginia correspondent of the Washington Republic writes: At 10 o'clock in the morning we drive out one mile from the town. The land as we approach becomes rolling but not liillv, and corn-liclds line both sides of the road. We halt at a frame structure, procure tickets and prepare to descend, tor this is the entrance to the caves, through which thousands have already passed and more wiil It is well that we have provider! -ourselves with wrnria nrirl fUtrPatwl r?nr< pIijpii r>f superfluous headgear. The wisdom of >othissoon shown. We descend fifty reet, having left at the door a warm sunihine and a temperature of eighty-eight legrees. The latter is now reduced to ifty-six degrees, but we are in a new world with a temperature of its own. The laws of nature appear reversed, for ; ivery thing here grows down from above nstead of up from below. The root is faulted, stalactites bang singly and in i ilusters and meet the eye at every turn; ; ometimes his twin brother, the stalag- j nite, rises to meet him, but not often, i Stalactites from four inches in length j ,nd a few ounces in weight, up to forty eet in height aad a hundred tons in j weight. Washington's column first j .rrests the eye. A long entrance avenue j o the ^ballroom past columns immense < a size and wonderful in profusion, here t re find a plateau entirely open and de- j otecl to Terpsichore?in its immediate < icinity a cemetery, suggesting the ( beory tha:; the Naiads were as prone to \ ance themselves to death as their fair i isters above ground. "] Now we enter the fish market where t ows of fish adorn the walls, the illusion t eine perfect. On a little, and we stand t t the brink of Pluto's chasm. At no ^ oint from entrance to exit does the l wful grandeur so impress a3 here, ? rhere 200 feet below the surface we t H>k down into a bottomless pit. We a irow down a boulder and fail to hear f , stop. Turning sharp to the left we are a ly prepared to greet the specter whi :h a ises in giant form just ahead of us to i bide uti for our intrusion. Passing a jrough the Elfan ramble we almost run c rainst the Enmresa column, a beautiful e gure almost white, looking very like a i 'oman on a pedesital. On past Proser- j ine's column, through the balcony to t le grotto, and rest at the vegetable ? arden. A moment against the leaning a >wer, a glance at Brand's cascade and n e gain Giant hall, where the forma- l, ons are colossal. A broken column r>w lies directly in our path. It is r velve feet in diameter and sixteen iong. r 7e descend to Skeleton gulch, and are j iwarded for the effort by a sight of a c mur and pelvis of some unfortunate ? ho long a^o must have fallen over the f recipice just above. These bones are 3 rmly imbedded in the limestone floor, t s we return we find a group of specta- j>rs at the flower garden, and we look i; round a moment. At no point yet n ave the stalactites shown any signs of e iving out, and it is no exaggeration to y iy that you have now seen eo many <j iou9ands of them that you {naturally ft 10k for something else. Inotherworcs 0 ley ceaae to attract. d The cathedral is a beautiful and won- h 3rful feature?.he pulpit at one end, the 3 rgan at the other. The pipes are sym- d letricai, ana are in perieci, musical j] -der; on the side of the wall, high c perhead, standing out of the wall, tne c igel's wing is clearly defined. Natural e ridge, tower of Babel and Stonewall's 0 int follow in rapid succession. The rapery in rich folds in the latter will p ivays attract the feminine eye. At no a lace have we had to stoop, and for tlie j| lost part we have had a ceiling of from d ^enty to one hundred feet over i.ur ( eads. History, mythology and the c ible have furnished names for this 1 onder under the earth. In this ram- t ling note I have omitted many minor j aints of interest as not being profitable r > the general reader. Coming back to t le entrance we find that we have spent [ iree hours in the tramp, and our r sdometer registers three miles traveled, t f course we have gone over some s round twice, but many places we have 8 Dt visited at all. a Let me advise any one to wrap up c Diore going aown, iiie suuueu uuttugu j eing too great for weak lungs. At the 8 itrancethe wealth of stalactite formaons is thrusts upon vou by the ceiling irving low toward the floor. We have >r the journey only candles, but as we ;ach points of great interest and we ght our taper, instantly every recess is rought out clearly. That stalactite rhich a moment ago looked like a white bject in the distance now comes out rith clear outlines. We are now in the Qte-room, with a ceiling of great height ad a sength of 100 feet. A little further n urn Hiannrn nillar after t>illar in dark- / rown stone, with here and there a j rystallized crust, which throws out j mny brilliant points before our magesium light. To our right we see the , jntinel room, and, in one corner, Lot's | rife passing on to the throne; we see , istmctly a white rat climbing a brown ] talagmite. S3 life-life is it that our , idies elevate themselves at once, and do | ot come down until assured that it has ( een in that position possibly for 10,000 j ears. , Only a few steps more are required to | each the Omnibus room; not so easily ( Bached, for we go through Yosemite j alley, where the path is narrow and j lie huge boulders lie on every side. In , tie omnibus at last. You naturally look brough the roof for the driver, but he j not there; and so you sit down, and, rhile resting, think about all you have een. Yonder, hanging from the Jceiltig, is a huge mitten, perfect even to humb. We pause before a frozen casade. At no point is the real object so rell imitated as here. Now we look tirough Tobacco race track and Cleoatra's hall. All along the course we lave noticed the profusion of stalactites, iut now they occur less frequently, and a so doing rest the eye. The solid stone on/1 inrrrainoH aa if. ia Kpinff > <WVI,I'U wuu 1U&4UiUVU MIJ 4U "vlMb ,s perfect architecturally as though wrought out by skilled hands. The crysal formations now multiply on our way, nd indicate clearly our approach to the )ia.mond room. Here only a brilliant Humiliation is needed to bring out unold beauty. After admiring until we ,r<; reminded that our stay must now be hort. we visit the cathedral, the grotto, levil's chasm. Lethe's stream, where we efresh ourselves from a stream of pure old water. Thiii at a depth of nearly DO feet. We now hurriedly look througn Solomon's temple, Queen's pass, Bearrack hall, and other places on our way o the Diamond lake, and here we are epaid for the journey. A clear lake, ival in form, has an edge of white crysal tablets, supporting brown stalactites, vhich droop irom the roof and rest upon he lake. Here the ceiung has rounded o the floor, and all stalactites have met lalagmites. This is without doubt the uost beautiful feature in any cave. It :annot be described so that an idea of its >eaut,y will be conveyed. On returning o the entrance we lind that we have valked three miles and spent two hours inderground. We bid our guide goodjye, but not until he promises to send us or exhibition in Washington some of lis specimens. Father?"Here you have only been narried four weeks and almost every lay you come to me with complaints ibout your husband. You ought to be ishamed of yourself." Daughter?"But le fights me all the time." " Foolish ;hila! Haven't your mother and me seen fighting every day for thirty years, ind don't we get alone peaceably and luietly with each other?" General Stoneman, reasoning from precedents, says diseases of various kinds will take the Indians off, and that the country west of the Rocky mountains will be rid of them at an early day. THE BABY ELEPHANT. How "America" Ifai Grown and Prospered. America, the baby elephant, has been enjoying exrelltnt health since she started on her summer tour, and the traveling she has accomplished,together with the admiration that has been lavished upon her at all places, has had the effect of benefiting her wonderfully in strength and spirits, and she is as wii'nnkiatfaiin n v\ ta nlittf Til I o n a IrSif am mubiut vuua anu. pinjiuino a, rwulcu. Last spring, when America was brought to see the light of day in the inclosure set aside for her mother, Hebe, at Twenty-third street and Ridge avenue, crowds of wondering people called upon the little elephant prodigy. The infant, when strong enough to receive the visitors ihat flocked to her nursery, presented a very funny appearance, indeed. She was then about thirty-five inches in height, but her heavy skin was loose and flabby. Extreme youth and a not yet developed character made baby a little dull and uninteresting except for the fact that she was a curiosity for having had the luck to be born in a civilized community, and far away from the native jungles of Hebe, her mother, and Mandiil, her father. America has been the most interesting, playful, affectionate big little thing ihat could be found among animals. How much her mother loves her can inly be known by close observation of ;he extreme care the watchful parent ceeps. Mandril exercises 'all his kind?st qualities toward his affianced and )ffspring, and the attention he lavishes lpon them is amply returned by the tfarm affection they show toward him. rhe domestic happiness of the elephanine family seems to be perfect. AlA tvinMirtn Knfl ITni?TT liff Ifl lUUUgll .TXLUCX. LKsCk UOO glVnil Ttl J 1IVU1C aller than when she was born, having gained only two inches in height, the oosenes3of the hide has all disappeared ind her weight has increased by more ban 200 rounds. Baby now turns the cales at 500 pounds. This increase has ;one principally to enlarge the limbs md fill out the body. Baby has also tcquired a suppleness and activity that, n so large a bnby, is remarkable. In ippcarance, baby is a miniature likeness if her kind mother. She seems to be ndowed with all the gentleness of iebe's disposition. There is a vein of ilayfulness and mischief in the characer of the little one that is manifested in ill her actions. She has not been taught ,ny circus trickery yet, but she is laturally full of pranks of the most auehable sort. Baby han traveled many hundred niles during the summer, and has seen oany strange faces, but the task of partng with old friends pnd the irksomeness if meeting new ones has not left a hadow of care upon her bright, cheernl disposition. Some very tunny cenes were sometimes enacted within he inclosure in which the family is :ept, and there seems to have developed a America a "bump of destructiveiess " that spares not anything. Whatver is thrown in the pen she rushes for srith a tiny baby trumpeting call and toes xier dksl kj uewvuuu. a uuu&ci ? ier favorite plaything, and when one is otten hold of she rolls it around and ances over it until finally a tramp of ier heavy foot crushes the staves. Then he will roll over and over iu the sawust in great glee, and jump nin.My to ier feet as lightly as a cat. Brooms and anes she has no use for. and whenever ine comes within reach, she makes very attempt to wrest it from the wner's hand and breaks it up. Baby is strong, too, though in her ower she is very gentle. She runs at nd butts any one who comes within the nclosiire, and she views their certain iscomfiture with evident satisfaction. )ne day she created much merriment by basing some boys around and around ier ring. When she has nothing else 0 play with, she amuses herself examinng the meshes of her net-work suroundings. She is always at worfc and lever tires. Occasionally she apparently >ecomes filled witn the idea that her nother is the supreme Droprietor of all hings, and she will approach the crowd tanaing near, grab anything she takes 1 fancy to from one's unsuspecting hand, ind run off with it to her mother. On >ne occasion "la'S country youth had >rought his sweetheart to see the circus, md they stopped long jwith wondering iyes fo watch the , happy elephantine amily. Suddenly America ran forward, matched a fan from the frightened ind astonished girl's hand, and )ore it triumphantly to her mother, aying it down with her trunk on he ground beneath tne maternal jody. After same difficulty and time Eent in chasing the playful thief around e pen, the fan was recovered. Oftentimes when Hebe sees her daughter pick lp what she ought not to have, or >ther wise doing wrong, she calls to her, the obedient child invariably obeys ier and runs to her parent's protection. A dastardly attempt was made to joison little America during her stay n Brooklyn, As she did not then, nor loes sue now, accept any nuiuiaumcui, sut her mother's milk, the poison, it is illeged, was given to Hebe. Luckily, :he mother showed si^ns of having eat?n the baneful stuff in time, and America was prevented from taking the milk until Hebe grew quite well. For twenty-four hours was the baby kept withDUt food, and she was well-nigh famished by the time the proper antidotes tiad taken favorable effect upon her aiother.?Fhilade'j'hia Times. The Alpine Horn. The Alpine born is an instrument made of the bark of a cherry tree, and like a speaking trumpet, is used to convey sounds to a great distance. When the last ravs of the sun eild the summit of the Alps, the shepherd who inhabits the highest peaks of these mountains takes his horn, and cries in a load voice: "Praised be the Lord." As soon as the neighbor shepherds hear him they leave their huts, and repeat these woids. The sounds are prolonged many minutes, while the echoes of the rocks repeat the name of God. Imagination cannot picture anything more solemn than such a scene. During the silence that succeeds, the shepherds bend their knees and pray in the open air, then repair to their huts to rest. The sunlight giiding the tops of these stupendous mountains, upon which the vault of heaven seems to rest, the magnificent scenery around, and the voices of the shepherds sounding from rock to rock the praise of the Almishty fill the mind of every traveler with enthusiasm and awe "In what condition was tbe patriarch Job at the end of his life?" asked s Brooklyn Sunday-school teacher of a quiet-looking boy at the foot of the class. "Dead," calmly replied the quiet-looking boy. About 75,000 miles of hoop ironenough for ft tln*ee-fold girdle around the earth, will be needed to bind the cotton crop, if it reaches the number of bales predicted by statisticians, or 6,000,000 bales. The number of bands required is six to a bale, or 36 000,000 in all. The cost of ties will be about $3 000,000. A Harlem minister, while marrying a couple recently, is reported to have been rather disconcerted on asking the bridegroom if he was willing to take the young lady for his wedded wife, by his scratching his head, and saying: "Yes, I'm willing; but I'd much sight rather have her sister.'" A Wisconsin cow died not jong ago, after a lingering illness, attended by a persistent cougli. After her death a veterinary surgeon opened the windpipe to discover the cause of the irritation, and found in the upper part of the lunsr a live striped frog of ordinary eize. The surrounding portion of the lung wm much discolored. FOB THE FUR SEX, Professional Beauty's Children. Apropos of the gayeties at Southsea, in England, there is an amusing story told of Mrs. Cornwallis \v est, the professional beauty. She and her husband have taken a house belonging to a gentleman who dislikes children, and one of the conditions of the lease was that no children were to reside in the house. Mr. and Mrs. West are, however, blest with four olive branches, whom they brought with them. The owner of the house, hearing this, wrote a furious letter to Mr. West, who calmly replied that he had taken the house and he should submit to no dictation as to how he was to occupy it. Upon this the owner posted off to Southsea and sought a personal interview. He was met by Mrs. West, who received him with her sweetest smiles and listened natiflntlv to hiB angry expostulations, Presently, during a pause, she rang the bell and the servant appeared. 44 Tell nurse to bring down all the children," she said, quietly, and then turning to her angry visitor with her most fascinating manner, re marked, "They are so lovely, Mr. , that I am eare you won't object to them when you have seen them." It need hardly be added that the owner left the house completely vanquished. A. Costly NeckUeti New York is becoming a market for diamonds, and it is claimed the prices charged there are less than those at London, Paris or Amsterdam. An English earl, on the recommendation of Mrs Mackey in Paris, recently gave a New York house the order for a diamond necklace whicii was to be an exact fac simile of one worn by the empress of Russia at the time of her daughter's marriage to the Duke of Edinburg. This last cost $820,000; but the New York firm agreed to duplicate it for $125,000, and has done so. The necklace consists of fifteen magnificent brilliants, graduated from about the size of a filbert to the central stone of nearly three times that size. The total weight of the fifteen stones is 640 carats. They are linked together by a nearly invisible setting, so that as they lie on their bed of black velvet in the case, there is nothing to detract from the matchless Uw11.'a.am i1iovn/\m/)a fViomanlrroo uillliauujr 1/1 IUC uiawv/uuo uuvuidv^vvsi Besides th? necklace are earrings and a brooch. The earrings are solitaires, weighing twenty-six carats each, in exact harmony, as to color and shape, with the great stones of the necklace. The brooch is made to imitate one of the heraldic emblems of the earl's coat of arms. It contains seven large stones, weighing 144 carats, and sixteen smaller diamonds weiehing sixty carats. The cost of the earrings and brooch is $35,000. The whole set, valued at $160,000, will be taken to England, and the name of the purchaser will then be made known. Fuhlon IVotei. Frog green is a new fall color. Brocaded plush is used for trimming. Red sashes are worn with blue flannel suits. Handkerchief dresses are shown foi little girls. Jet and colored beads still retain theii popularity. Plaid dresses have Byron collars and WUUO Ml VCiVCU* The majority of dressy kilts for boys Have caps to correspond. Black evening toilets embroidered with gold are all the rage in Paris. Sash effects are a conspicuous feature of recently-imported costumes. Richly-colored mummy clothes of fine wool are offered for winter wear. Red is more fashionable than white for trimming children's sailor suitB. French gray and ecru felt Derby hats are now worn with light-colored wraps. Capucine brown is the new color for woolen costumes* Young girls will wear English walk* ing jackets again this ec&oon. Shirring is the fashionable trimming fnr silk and satin mantles. Many imported bonnet3 are trimmed with cheniile passementerie. Small bustles are worn with street costumes and larger ones with evening toilets. Brazilian bugs and beetles are used in prolusion upon some of the Paris bonnets. Gold and silver mulle muslins have superseded the gold and silver net of last year. Jersey webbing resembling stocking net is now sold by the yard for curiasse basques. A grotesque ornament for a bonnet ia the foot of a boar's cub in natural fur with claws of French steel. Winter corsages, coats and jackets will be of a different material from the skirts worn with them. The newest round waists have the fronts shirred at the shoulders and belt, and the back cut perfectly plain. Spanish lace in black and white, ? I* nofifl fAr nt*. WI'UUgUL WILLI &U1U, TT Hi UOUU 4UI u*namenting dresses bats and bonnets. Sailor collars made of two silk handkerchiefs witb a jaunty knot iu front are largeiy patronized by young ladies. Satin merveillieuse, with sprinklings of gold, silver atd jet beads, is a feature among the new millinery material. No dinner dress is now complete without a chemisette made of Handsome iace, spangled tulle or silk gauze embroidered with beads. Silver jewelry is more fashionable than gold in England just at present. and the indications are that it will before long become so here. Gilt stitching and cashmere-colored tinsel work are used to head rows of creamy lace on soft mull kerchiefs. Squares of jetted net will be worn in handkerchief shape around the neck in the street, instead of the long scarfs of black iace. Lovely pointed collars entirely of jet beads, finished with jet fringe, are shown to wear with black dresses. Casi) merecolored beads mounted in the same way are also imported, and serve as a gay finish for simple dresses. New veils of black net have dots as large as a pea wrought with gilt threads, whiie others have pea dots of chenille? black, red, white, or else old ^old. Red net witli tiny aots 13 aiso suown ior veils. Grenadine veils of dark colcr have chenille dots of the shade of the grenadine. New cravat bows are made of the gay Madras plaid Surah. Instead of a strap, a pearl pin holds the two large loops of the bow at the top, while below this is a sailor knot finished with two pointed handkerchief corners. This is worn with a round collarette made of three frills of the new Alencon lace that is tinted creum in color. The single narrow balayev v flounce added at the foot of the skirt will remain a favorite finish for winter costumes. At present it is laid in smali box plaits, instead of the fine kniteplaiting used lsst year. It is made of the silk or satin used for the dress or for its trimming, and is a finger deep, cut straight across the goods; it is lined throughout with crinoline, or else wiggin of fine quality, with less stiffness than that used lor facings. The silk is turned up half an inch on the wrong side, the box plaits are an inch wide, and the top of the flounce is sewed to the bottom of the skirt with a cording of silk, making a seam between the silk and the dress facing. Large collarettes and fichus of round, straight, and square shapes are shown, as well as those that are three-cornered, or pointed in regular fichu fashion. A gre?\s deal of ehirring i? on? of fell* new t . features of these articles lor the neck, and this is done not only on white and creamy muil muslin, but on colored mull in heliotrope, pink, lilac, and pale blue shades. Some white satin is also introduced, and ivory satin ribbons are used for the square and long-looped bows that adorn the collar. Still another novelty is silk muslin in dark changeable colors, which is shirred in scarf, and trimmed with lace. Old gold with blue and heliotrope colors make pretty changeable tints for this soft fabric. A kind of Chinese crape with incised figures is new for cravat bows and collarettes in white and creamy tints. The large Directoire collars witli notched revers and the full frills worn by Sara Bernhardt, with a tiny square bow on cue leit siae 01 tae necK, are stynsn designs for satin and lace collars; colored velvet witb? beaded trimmings is also employed in the same way. The effort seems to be to heap as much material as posssible around tlie neck, and this is often done irregularly that the sides differ, and two or three designs are combined in one. For instance, one of the richest novelties has first a white satin collar large enough lor a shoulder cape, and cn this is mounted a Directoire revers collar of silk muslin, with three frills of plaited Languedoc lace, held on the left side by an ivory satin bow. Adelaide P.-octor. One day Charles Dickens, as he sat in the office of All the Year Round, making his way through the mass of papers that lay on his table, was attracted and surprised by the singular merit of some lines which had been atnt him. Such a discovery is always a refreshment 10 an editor, as he wades among the slough ol ?rv l\ ViJxm am/1 iuajiua^uyia wuiuu suauuuu liiuiy auu he glanced eagerly at tbe name with which the verses were signed.'* It was " Mary Berwick." Dickens had never before, to his knowledge, either heard this name or seen it in print, bat there was the ring of true poetry in Mary Berwick's line9, be she whom she might, and so they were inserted in the next number of tbe maeazine. Months went on, and AU the Year Rou?d had frequent contribution? of Miss Mary Berwick among its contents. Dickens, however, knew simply nothing kbout her, except that she wrote a legible hand, that he always, by her own wish, addressed all communications to her to a certain circulating library in the west of London, and that when he sent her a check, she acknowledged it promptly, but in a very shorl, matter cf fact way. At length, one winter evening, when Dickens went to dine with the Proctors, he happened to putin his pocket, to show then, the Christmas number of AU the Tear Round, which was just coming out. He called their attention especially to what i. _ * _ _ _ 1 if* lie saia was a very preuy poem oy jmsa Mary Berwick. The author of " Pickwick" remarked, to his astonishment, that those simple words of his were received by the whole family with much suppressed merriment. He could not in the least make out what was in the wind, but he took it good-naturedly, supposing it to be some home Christmas joke, and asked no questions. Next day the mystery of the unaccountable mirth of last night was cleared up in a letter from Barry Cornwall to Dickens. Mary Berwick was Adelaide Proctor. And from that time forward, Miss Proctor took an acknowledged place among English poetesses.?The Argosy. Some Feats of Endurance. A New York paper says: The 156-hour race between men and horses, at Chicago, ended in a victory for man. Byrne, a new pedestrian, who is scarcely twenty yet, scored 542 miles as his six5 a ??J -* a a/i/MiA r\4 aay recoru, auu ouuppcu wuu a dwic w 578 miles. The leading horse finished ten miles behind him. The Chicago papers cail the contest a "great" one, ol course, but without finding fault with that, it may be said that they are quite in error in describing it as ,fthe first ol the kind ever given." Last October there was a similar contest in San Francisco, but then a horse won, with a six-day record of 559 miles. However, the list of such contests?we believe there have been others?is, happily, a brief oae, and stepping ouside of it, there are authentic records of remarkable rides which are far more interesting than such objectless displays of grim endurance as the Chicago performance. In 1847 General J. C. Fremont and two companions covered 800 miles across a roadless-and mountainoas country in 158 hours, only 100 of which were spent - ? 11 J AT +Kfltr VloH a h?a. in tLltJ aauuie. ul uuuioi: iucj uou u j?vquent change of horses, those not nnder saddle being driven ahead and lassoed when wanted. This is perhaps the most remarkable horseback ride on authentic record. Two or three years ago nine Italian officers undertook a nde of 310 miles to see what was the extreme performance which might be expected of ordinary horses in war. Only three finished the distance, and they required 103 hours for the task. Some time before this another Italian officer rode 580 Italian miles in ten days on a single horse. From Vienna to Paris is 500 miles as the crow flies. Prince de Ligne once oovered the road between the two cities in six davs, but with relays of horses. Count de Maintenay is said to have done it in less time on a single Hungarian roadster. He was tnen a bearer of the consent of the emperor of Austria to the marriage of Napoleon and Marie Louise, and he was rewarded for his speed with a jeweled snufl-box, 3l,vw, ana me horse which carried him so well. It is said that he rode the whole way without dismounting, but that is scarcely credible. The conditions are so different that it is impossible to compare these feats with those of last week at Chicago, but it seems reasonably certain that neither on horbeback nor on foot can the rate of 100 miles be Kept up lor more than five days, and that there are men who can do the distance at least as quickly without a horse.aa with one Chicago as a Hraln Market. Who has not read almost daily allusions in the papers to the great arrivals there, and shipments thence of this staple? of a " blockade " or a " comer " in it? of a rise or fall in the prict? of fortune? made or lost? Yet the business shovs no very marked "outward and visible sign" of its importance to the transient visitor. It is in concentrated and compact shape, and managed with admirable system and skill. In the year 1679 there were brought into the city, of flour, 3,370,000 barrels; of wheat, corn, oats, rye. and barley, 122,633,000 bushels. And it is curious to learn that ali came by rail except 36,000 barrels of flour and 339,000 bushels of grain by the lake, and 42,000 barrels of flour and 6,479,000 bushels of grain by the canal, thus showing what the iron roads have done for the city. In Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, Nebraska and Dakota; in Illinois and Missouri, and in that young giant of a State, Kansas ; away up in the Red River valley, and away out on the Santa Fe trail, beyond the hundredth meridian; on the fertile prairie farms which lie east of the Mississippi, and on new ones in the heart of what we used to call the Great American desert?the farmers toiled to raise this ? real i m port. On all the iron roads the freight trains were made up through long months to be concentrated on the lines leading into Chicago, and to deposit much of their carryings within her borders. The latter are somewhat curiously divided. The Chicago and Northwestern railroad, for instance, which brought, in 1879, 1,300,000 barrels of flour, brought only 7,000,000 bushels of corn; while the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy registered only 461,000 barrels ot flour, but 26,000.000 buaholi of cgro.'?Zfarper'# Magatim. When All the World Is Fotuif. When all the world is younjf, lad, ; And all the trees are green, ~*f And every goose a swan, lad^ And every law a queen. They hey lor boot and horse, Md,^ <. ' And round the world away, * Young blood must have its course, UA, . -; And every dog his day. * When all the world is old, lad,, And all the trees are brown, And all the sport is stale, lad, And all the wheels run down. Creep home, and take your place there TV?a an/1 orwAnr* " J, 1UO ej'tuw nuvt hmuhiw uiuvuj^p God grant you fled one face there You loved when yon were yonng. ?Kingtlty. ITEMS OF INTEREST. ||| The iate3t thing in boots -Stockings. Worth 100 cents on the dollar?A good nose. Canada's surplus of oats tis about v 7,500,000 bushels. . A famine extending over a large ter? * . ritory in India is threatened. >. , The boy who was kept after school v' for bad orthography said he was spell bound. A swift train ran into an unwary flock of wild turkeys on a Canada railroad, ^ . killing twelve. ? The town of Winchester. Tenn. levied on a law book belonging to a " * young attorney named John R. Beasley mdetaultof the payment of his sidewalk tax. ' A Mount Pulaski (Iowa) man set oat a willow twig in his yard in the year .* v 1848, and to-day it measures five feet . through the body, and c*\sta a shade seventv-two feet acrosB at noon. Artillery was first used in field war- * fare at the battle of Cresy, August 26, 1348, where the English bowmen were drawn up in the form of a hanom, with -> , small bombards between them, which threw little iron balls to frighten tha ? ." horses. ' * Some two years since, according to a. . foreign medical report, a girl of seven- - ? " . teen received a severe fright, which, "* within a few days thereafter, resu ltea in a total loss of her hair. None has . .V grown since, and she remains com pletely^ At certain places in Virginia, along * . the Pamunky river, where there are great numbers of fresh-water mussels, it is impossible to raise ducks, because _ '' at low water the ducklings are caught by the mussels, and held until drowned ^ by the rising tide. It is not generally known that if a. ' v one-dollar ereonback is neatly cut in two, each of the halves is good for fifty cents at the Federal treasury. The same % process can be carried on till tht bill Ib .livid/i/4 mtn t/>nfha wlthnnt. ininrlmr the aliquot value of its parts. ' An old goose at New Albany, Lid., with oue leg and one wing broken, and that had been deserted by the balance of the flock, deliberately threw its neck underthe wheels of a wagon and allowed itself to be run over and killed. . Trades unions (the Celestial Empire say9) appear now to to have taken root in Japan. It is reported that owing to ' the recent rise in the price of rice all the ' . laborers in Gifu, Mino province, made an arrangement among themselves aud forced the employers to raise the wages. . , William Rodifer, the Indianapolis \ burglar shot through the. coolness of Mrs. Dr. Walker oDe recent night, once ? escaped from prison and rid himself of ? bis ball and chain by lying down by the railroad and letting the wheels of ' a passing train clip off his incumbrance. A preacher and a lawyer weredis- . [") cussing the direction of the wind. ^ The ? former said: " wego Dy ine courc-nousa vane." "And we go by the church vane," replied the lawyer. " In the matter of wind that is the best authority," said the parson. And the lawyer went home to cogitate. The mints of France belong to private corporations, bnt coin money nnder the supervision of the national authorities. Any person possessing silver or goli can have it coined. The five-franc piece in silver is the only standard national silver money, the other pieces being mere bullion for market conven- * ience. Colonel George L. Perkm.?, of Norwich, Conn., wrote the following encouraging note to a young physician. "I have already buried seven family physicians, so he mast be a bruve man . who now accepts the post." But the . * a colonel is now ninety-four years of age. He has visited in person every Presi> * . dent since Washington, excepting Folk. - Donkey and Fox?4 Fable. One day a fox who had wandered afar from his den found bis return cut off by a stream of considerable depth and current. He could not swim, and he cudgled his brain in vain for some method by which he might get over. In this dilemma a dsnkey suddenly appeared in search of a drinK. "Ob, donkey, I am deiighted to meet you!'' exclaimed tne tox. as He came lorward. "I was just wishing for good company, for the forest is so very still and night is coming on." ' The donkeys and the foxes have no fraternal feeling. While you bark I bray; while you lope I gallop: while you Iovj fl? sh I prefer grass. Go your way and I'll go mine." " It is true we do not mate," quietly replied the fox, " but that is no sign I do unnr0i'>i*'iP TTOfir in fpl li OPTIMA *nd beauty. I could not help being bom a fox, hut, oh, how often I have wished that I had your beautiful ears, your thunderous bray and your elegant * shape." "Eh, what's that?" queried the de- , ighted donkey. "See what beautiful Ions, legs you have!" continued the fox. " Do you really think so?" "And such beautiful long cars! If I onlv had vour feet I would be as proud as a peacock." The flattered donkey began to gambol and show off, and the fox continoed: 1 "Across the stream and beyond the swamp is my den. I should really like my children to behold you and near your voice. They have heard me tell of you, and they cry for you. One of them is ill, and I cannot let him die until he has seen the greatest aas in America." A little more flattery and coaxing jquite won the heart of the donkey, ana he agreed to go. As he entered the stream the fox leaped lightly to his back and passed over without a wet foot. When they entered the swamp he renewed his flattery, and was finally carried to dry land. " You are not going?" asked the donkey, as the fox jumped down and started " Yes." "But I thought ycu wanted me to bray to your children?" " I have changed my mind," replied the fox. 44 I have concluded to do my own braying after this." 44 But I am far from home and cannot find my way back." 44 Then it is your misfortune that you were not bom a fox. l>t me give you a tew words of advice. Be what nature _ designed you to be. Never take a dollar's worth of flattery in place of a shilling's worth of pork. While you can bray, never do so without realizing that a bray always gives away the location of a donkey, it is more easy to flatter . than to buy. A donkey who can be flattered can always be duped. In brief, don't knock down persimmons on shares before you have found out whether you like 'em or not"-~r>ttreU Fr?4 Prtaai